Backdated log: There are few, if any, jobs in which ability alone is sufficient.
WHO: ALL MEMBERS OF EITHER THE ORDER OF THE PHOENIX OR DUMBLEDORE'S ARMY
WHERE: A small, private conference room at Magic*Con
WHEN: Saturday, September third
WARNINGS: Lots of wizards in an enclosed space. One of them is Snape.
SUMMARY: The HP cast attempts to fill in Rowling plotholes, Or: it's like Hermione's purse has Dark Wizard herpes.
FORMAT: whatever works, kids
[OOC NOTE FROM THE GET-GO: THIS IS NOT THE CON-WIDE "TEAM MAGIC" THING! This is for dealing with what they all think might be a horcrux. LARGER "TEAM MAGIC" (or whatever it ends up being named) WILL BE ORGANIZED AFTER MAGIC*CON HAS SETTLED DOWN.]
Between Snape, Hermione and the rest of them, the word slowly got around to the witches and wizards who had stood in firm opposition of He Who Must Not Be Named that the He heretofore unmentioned was not as absent from the City as any of them would be comfortable with. How much or how little each individual had been told (or understood) might vary, but the underlying message was the same: it was time to meet, hear the whole story, and figure out what the magic-loving hell to do.
After a few quiet words with the constaff (and...possibly some gentle memory modification and firm anti-muggle wards, a small conference room that did not technically belong to the con but which was not going to be in use until tomorrow anyway, was theirs.
Sirius had summoned water, lemonade, various food to snack on, and had charmed a tea service to float and heat properly. He'd also snuck in a small bottle of whiskey, which he was certain that some voices would object to, but which other voices (including his own) were definitely going to need. Not only was a piece of Voldemort on the line, Snape was going to be in the room, and for once he actually did know aaaaall about it, and was thus going to be twice as insufferable as normal.
Well. Sirius could tell that he was getting old, because his response to that thought was that there were more important things to worry about.
WHERE: A small, private conference room at Magic*Con
WHEN: Saturday, September third
WARNINGS: Lots of wizards in an enclosed space. One of them is Snape.
SUMMARY: The HP cast attempts to fill in Rowling plotholes, Or: it's like Hermione's purse has Dark Wizard herpes.
FORMAT: whatever works, kids
[OOC NOTE FROM THE GET-GO: THIS IS NOT THE CON-WIDE "TEAM MAGIC" THING! This is for dealing with what they all think might be a horcrux. LARGER "TEAM MAGIC" (or whatever it ends up being named) WILL BE ORGANIZED AFTER MAGIC*CON HAS SETTLED DOWN.]
Between Snape, Hermione and the rest of them, the word slowly got around to the witches and wizards who had stood in firm opposition of He Who Must Not Be Named that the He heretofore unmentioned was not as absent from the City as any of them would be comfortable with. How much or how little each individual had been told (or understood) might vary, but the underlying message was the same: it was time to meet, hear the whole story, and figure out what the magic-loving hell to do.
After a few quiet words with the constaff (and...possibly some gentle memory modification and firm anti-muggle wards, a small conference room that did not technically belong to the con but which was not going to be in use until tomorrow anyway, was theirs.
Sirius had summoned water, lemonade, various food to snack on, and had charmed a tea service to float and heat properly. He'd also snuck in a small bottle of whiskey, which he was certain that some voices would object to, but which other voices (including his own) were definitely going to need. Not only was a piece of Voldemort on the line, Snape was going to be in the room, and for once he actually did know aaaaall about it, and was thus going to be twice as insufferable as normal.
Well. Sirius could tell that he was getting old, because his response to that thought was that there were more important things to worry about.