Challenge #092 Rhyming Slang, Challenge #005 Blue, Fic Amnesty Day
Title: Approaching The Bar
Rating/Warnings: Crack. PG. Crack.
Characters/Pairing: Bellatrix/Voldemort
Summary: Bellatrix Black has to do one more thing before she is proven worthy to serve the Dark Lord: buy a round of drinks in a Muggle pub in London. How hard can it be?
Word Count: 931
Author's Notes: For prompt #092 Cockney Rhyming Slang, for eggsnail's prompt of Bellatrix/Voldie, and some reference to a pony. Pony is cockney for £25, so there ye go.
Registered purchases?: Both
The two figures sat in the dirty Muggle pub, purely because they knew the wizarding world was watching him very carefully, almost waiting for an excuse to find him and bring him down. His reputation had been slowly building in the years of exile, and therefore, he needed to re-enter the wizarding world somewhat undetected.
The venue was certainly neither of their first choice. Far from it, the young woman looked around her surroundings as though everything were contaminated, and for all she knew, it probably was.
"The smell in this place is revolting," Bellatrix hissed. "Master, we could simply return to my family's residence! I assure you we will be honoured to have such an esteemed guest in our residence!"
"Ahh, yes," Lord Voldemort said. "I do know Cygnus and Druella, Bellatrix. I met them many years ago, when you were but a child, and your sisters unborn. I have no doubts about your pedigree."
"Then why?"
Voldemort readjusted the poise on his seat. "It has come to my attention that you have barely even laid eyes on a Muggle, Bella. You were raised in the Black household, and you spent most of your childhood years at Hogwarts."
"Muggles, Mudbloods, blood traitors," Bellatrix rattled off with a pout. "They're all the same to me. Filth."
"Ah, but they are not," Voldemort said. "You see, blood traitors are the ones who willingly weaken our society. They choose to pollute the world with their half-bloods and half-breeds. They turn their back on what is true wizarding pride."
"With respect-" Bellatrix began, but Voldemort put up a thin, bony hand.
"Let me continue. The Mudbloods are the consequence of this. They come from ignorance, and these weak-willed traitors choose to let them learn our ways. Of course we will never prosper if they keep coming! And yet, these Mudbloods... they know magic. Which is why we must look at the Muggles themselves. Show me your arm, Bella."
Reluctantly, she raised her sleeve. Voldemort looked at her naked flesh, and ran a long finger down it.
"You do not bear the Dark Mark yet. And I have held back because you need to prove one final thing to me," Lord Voldemort said, smiling as he laid down the terms of this final chapter of the girl's initiation. "I need you to prove to me you truly understand Muggles."
Bellatrix's nose wrinkled as she looked around the dingy London pub. It was the sort favoured by old working men, all of whom looked like they belonged in the gutter, as best as she was concerned. She looked at him, and he smiled.
"Bella, won't you buy me a drink?" Voldemort smiled.
She stood up uneasily and made her way to the bar. A grubby fat man with a smudged face grinned in her face. "Wotcher lovely! What can I do you for?"
She recoiled. "Excuse me?"
"What are you and the gent having to drink?"
"Oh..." Bellatrix said slowly, before realising she had no idea what the Dark Lord would even drink. "Can I get, uh... one of those"
"Pint?"
"Yes, why not?" Bellatrix shrugged. "And I'll have a pumpkin juice, barkeep."
"A pumpkin juice?" The barman laughed as he pulled the pint of Guinness. "Are you havin' a giraffe?"
"A giraffe?" Bellatrix said, scowling at the man. She was barely twenty years old, but suddenly felt like an old woman being caught out by some clever teenagers speaking a made-up language.
"You from out of town, I take it?" The barman chuckled, letting the pint settle. "Not familiar with the ol' rhyming slang, eh?"
"Rhyming? Is this some kind of joke?"
The barman frowned. "No, it's fine. If you don't want something stronger to drink, I'll make you an Al Pachino."
"Oh, make me whatever," Bellatrix said, exhausted; as the barman busied himself making her a coffee, she got the impression the Dark Lord was listening to her struggle, and was laughing to himself.
"So is this.... rhyming slang a common thing among your sort, or is it just exceptional cases such as yourself?"
The barman was only half listening. "It's easy enough to get the 'ang of if you use your loaf and keep yer wits about you."
"Loaf?"
"Of bread. Head," the barman smiled. "Where are you from? You sound like you're from London, but..."
"We've travelled a long way," Bellatrix said, choosing not to make small talk with a petulant Muggle such as this one. "And I believe we shall keep on travelling soon."
"Like gypsies, eh?" The barman frowned. "As long as you don't put a curse on this place, it's fine. That's three pounds twenty, thanks."
Bella scowled as she stuffed her hand into her pocket, pulling out a few Muggle banknotes she had been forced to convert. "Is this enough?"
The barman blinked. "You've given me a pony, duck!"
"I asked if it's enough! I didn't wish to discuss animals with you!"
"It's more than enough," the barman said, taking the five pound note and opening the till.
"Keep the change!" Bellatrix screamed, staggering back to her table with a pint of Guinness and a cup of dirty-looking cappuccino. Lord Voldemort smiled at her, proud of his charge's bravery.
The pair of them tried to drink the brews, but neither could stand the dirty, bitter taste of either beverage, which refused to yield no matter how much they attempted to transfigure the contents. Satisfied, Lord Voldemort allowed Bellatrix to set the establishment on fire for her own entertainment, and granted her the Dark Mark the very same evening.
Title: Blue in the Face
Rating/Warnings: G, or PG.
Characters/Pairing: Percy/Neville. Kinda implied, but not really. Fluff stuff.
Summary: With the Monster of Slytherin on the loose, Percy returns to Gryffindor Tower from patrol, and encounters a student in distress.
Word Count: 832
Author's Notes: To Prompt #005 'Blue'. Written for erzebet, who is always looking for more Neville/Percy fluff.
Registered purchases?: Both
Percy's footsteps were the only ones that occupied the corridors at this time. He knew the Gryffinor students were too busy being under curfew, and the Prefects were not allowed to go anywhere by themselves, but he had just been allowed to stand down for the night by Professor McGonnagall, so he headed back to the dormitory by himself.
It was not a wise thing to do, but Percy knew deep down that he was not under any threat whatsoever. For one, he was a pure-blood wizard. Secondly, he was a prefect. The Heir of Slytherin wouldn't try anything quite as audacious as attacking a Prefect.
He was at the foot of the stairs of Gryffindor Tower when he heard a hissing, snuffling sound from one of the nearby side-rooms. His blood froze; it was only natural to freeze: Percy knew he wasn't to be targeted by the monster of Slytherin, but that didn't mean he couldn't fall foul to an accident. And what if the monster was caught? Two students, a ghost and a cat were down already. It was only natural for people to be afraid, and who knew what would happen to anyone who stood in the Heir's way?
But therein lay the problem. Percy knew he would have to do something to investigate the noise. His thoughts turned to Penny, a fellow Prefect but a Muggle-born. If he didn't stop the monster today, and it did something awful to her, he would never be able to live with the guilt.
Sure, it was terrifying to go in undefended, but what was a Gryffindor to do?
He steeled his nerves and opened the door with a sharp twang.
A boy squealed and fell off his chair. Percy looked down at the small, round-faced figure and tilted his head.
"What are you doing here? Why aren't you in the common room?"
"I, er, I lost my toad down here after dinner, and when I tried to get back into the common room, the Fat Lady wouldn't let me through! I'd forgotten the password and-"
"The password is Bombastes Furioso," Percy said, before looking at the boy. "You're Ron's friend, aren't you?"
"Yeah, yeah, er, Neville Longbottom."
"Why is Ron allowing you to be outside the dormitory after curfew? It's dangerous."
"It's... it's my fault. I'm sorry," Neville whispered, looking down at the floor. "I thought it would be a good idea to get out of the corridor. I didn't want to get in the way any more."
"Well, be that as it may," Percy began, "you should have been in there two hours ago."
"I know," Neville sniffed. "But I wanted to work on my homework."
"Homework?" Percy was stumped. "But you need to-"
"No, I need to do this!" Neville whimpered, and Percy was surprised to see the younger boy was on the brink of tears. "Professor Snape's threatening to, to get me punished if I fail this homework assigment! And I'm really bad at magic... I just don't get it! And I'm scared that I'll be targeted by the monster if I fail-"
"You won't be," Percy interrupted. "You're a Longbottom, right? Your family is as pure-blooded as mine, and-"
"No, Filch was targeted first; I'm not safe at all," muttered Neville, his face white and his eyes red. "That's why I need to do this now!"
Percy stood there awkwardly. He just wanted to chivvy Neville into the common room, but he was sure Fred and George were due to start bouncing off the walls any time soon. "When is the homework due?"
"Tomorrow morning," Neville admitted sadly.
Percy chuckled. "You're as bad as Ron. What's the problem?"
"I have to refine a potion recipe from last lesson. But when I made it, it turned deep blue."
"Blue?" Percy said, peering at the parchment. "What colour is it meant to be?"
"Golden orange," Neville chuckled weakly.
"Heh, okay," Percy said, pulling up a seat. "You're probably just mixing it wrong. Did it go blue early on?"
Between the two of them, they sat in the empty room, helping Neville work through the potions homework. He wasn't confident the final result was fully understood, but at least Neville wasn't worked up into such a stress about it like he had been shortly before. The boy looked up at Percy like he was some sort of mentor.
"You might have saved my life, you know?" Neville said thoughtfully, scribbling a final suggested flourish to the potion. "I really understood that, too."
Percy smiled and told Neville if he was every worried or upset, and he needed a helping hand with his homework, Percy would be more than happy to talk to him. That reassurance, if not the assistance alone, seemed to do the trick; Neville held himself taller as he packed his bag up and climbed the stairs with Percy.
"Bombastes Furioso!" Neville said proudly to the Fat Lady, who swept aside to let the two young men enter.
Title: Start-of-Term Announcements.
Rating/Warnings: PG-13 due to reference to death and war and dark stuff? idktbh
Characters/Pairing: Professor McGonagall, a few other random Smarms mentioned, too.
Summary: Minerva McGonagall begins her first school year as official Headmistress, and makes announcements to the school.
Word Count: 928
Author's Notes: Accio Fic Amnesty Day! For myself, because I wanted to write this for a while.
Registered purchases?: Yep, still both
Professor McGonagall looked at the Great Hall for the first time. It looked so similar to usual, but there was a clear difference in the atmosphere. It reminded her of when she was younger, and her old friends had had a long on-going heated feud, and it had all boiled over catastrophically, only to be replace with a serene calm now all the badness had been aired and dissipated.
But she could feel the scars lying beneath the surface. The events of last May could not be forgotten. It would be the first time she had made a speech such as this at an opening ceremony in all her years of teaching, but it had to happen. She clapped politely as the large influx of first-years took their seats at the four house tables at Professor Flitwick's behest, and she finally stood up to address her audience.
"Welcome all of you to Hogwarts," she announced proudly to the school. "We are very proud and happy to have you all back, and furthermore, we welcome a large number of first-year students to our midsts. I have several announcements I wish to make, all of which concern every student in this room, so please pay attention."
There was an excited buzz from all the tables; Minerva let it die down before continuing:
"I shall begin with staffing announcements," she proclaimed. "Firstly, I am beginning tenure as official Headmistress of Hogwarts School. I ask you all to be cooperative with this transition; even though I came to this position late last academic year, we are still trying to rememdy some problems. On top of this, Professor Sinistra of the Astronomy department shall be overtaking my duties as head of Gryffindor House. I ask my former students to make her feel welcome in this position."
The table adorned with scarlet and gold began clapping, as Professor Sinistra accepted it with a polite nod. Minerva waited.
"Additionally, we have two further changes in the lineup," she explained. "For one, we welcome Professor Diggle, who will be taking up the position of Muggle Studies Professor. Furthermore, we also welcome Professor Podmore as the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher."
The two wizards accepted the students' applause in the appropriate fashion: Dedalus Diggle was wearing a top hat instead of the usual formal hats worn by the academics, while Sturgis Podmore smiled thinly, looking at the new charges, presumably wondering why he had agreed to sign up for a supposedly-jinxed job in the first place.
"Now, I must stress something upon all students," McGonagall said, leaning forward, allowing her voice to carry to every corner of the room. "Last year, this school underwent a terrible and bloody battle. Most of you will remember it, but there are some here who do not. Some of the new students may have avoided the worst of the fighting. Indeed, some new students may have not even heard about it until now. But I mention this to everybody now: the war is over, and the school is a safe place to be. I ask you all to heed the Sorting Hat's words and stand together. Intolerance and prejudice will not be accepted from any party. This zero-tolerance policy begins immediately. Prefects shall be briefed on this accordingly."
"Furthermore, there are many students who are returning to school for the first time in twelve months. These are students who were unable to attend last year due to political reasons. We ask you to not harass them for the details if possible. Rather, we invite you to seize the opportunity to meet people you may have not done so in any other circumstance."
The students looked around at a few stragglers, mostly at the Gryffindor, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw tables, and it was known at once what the Headmistress meant: Muggle-borns, who had either been captured, turned away, or gone into hiding for a year, were finally returning to the surface. Minerva's eyes caught those of Hermione Granger's at the far corner of the room- seated next to Ginny Weasley of course- and she could make out a small smile.
"There are two final points on the matter: all students should note that a monument has been erected to remember those who lost their lives in the Wizarding War last year. Every student, teacher and friend of the school who gave their life for our freedom has been remembered on the shrine. Please feel free to pay your respects in your own time. We do not wish you to forget their names."
The students were silent, which pleased McGonagall. She continued: "Finally, due to the damage inflicted upon the castle by the War, there are still some areas that are out of bounds to all students. Age lines have been put up around the forbidden areas: no person under the age of twenty will be able to get within ten feet of any forbidden area. In short, that means no students, so do not attempt to try."
It was a shame what had been done to the school, but Professor McGonagall chose to wear the damages like battle scars. They would make the school stronger, and act as a reminder of what happens to those who venture too far off the path of righteousness. The students would learn by assosciation.
After making the usual remarks about the Forbidden Forest being off-limits, Quidditch tryouts, and all Weasley Wizard Wheezes products being banned, the feast began. The students began to make noise merrily as they ate, and Hogwarts felt like home once more.
931+832+928 = (2691 /30)
Rob // Gryffindor
89.7 90 points + 30 (or 40? 35?) bonus GET!!
(Mods: i'm a little confused by the points this week.
I did both april challenges, but i also did an amnesty thing here.
also, i maxed out along the line too, so idk, just smiling nicely cos it's 5:40am and fff work tomorrow.)
Rating/Warnings: Crack. PG. Crack.
Characters/Pairing: Bellatrix/Voldemort
Summary: Bellatrix Black has to do one more thing before she is proven worthy to serve the Dark Lord: buy a round of drinks in a Muggle pub in London. How hard can it be?
Word Count: 931
Author's Notes: For prompt #092 Cockney Rhyming Slang, for eggsnail's prompt of Bellatrix/Voldie, and some reference to a pony. Pony is cockney for £25, so there ye go.
Registered purchases?: Both
The two figures sat in the dirty Muggle pub, purely because they knew the wizarding world was watching him very carefully, almost waiting for an excuse to find him and bring him down. His reputation had been slowly building in the years of exile, and therefore, he needed to re-enter the wizarding world somewhat undetected.
The venue was certainly neither of their first choice. Far from it, the young woman looked around her surroundings as though everything were contaminated, and for all she knew, it probably was.
"The smell in this place is revolting," Bellatrix hissed. "Master, we could simply return to my family's residence! I assure you we will be honoured to have such an esteemed guest in our residence!"
"Ahh, yes," Lord Voldemort said. "I do know Cygnus and Druella, Bellatrix. I met them many years ago, when you were but a child, and your sisters unborn. I have no doubts about your pedigree."
"Then why?"
Voldemort readjusted the poise on his seat. "It has come to my attention that you have barely even laid eyes on a Muggle, Bella. You were raised in the Black household, and you spent most of your childhood years at Hogwarts."
"Muggles, Mudbloods, blood traitors," Bellatrix rattled off with a pout. "They're all the same to me. Filth."
"Ah, but they are not," Voldemort said. "You see, blood traitors are the ones who willingly weaken our society. They choose to pollute the world with their half-bloods and half-breeds. They turn their back on what is true wizarding pride."
"With respect-" Bellatrix began, but Voldemort put up a thin, bony hand.
"Let me continue. The Mudbloods are the consequence of this. They come from ignorance, and these weak-willed traitors choose to let them learn our ways. Of course we will never prosper if they keep coming! And yet, these Mudbloods... they know magic. Which is why we must look at the Muggles themselves. Show me your arm, Bella."
Reluctantly, she raised her sleeve. Voldemort looked at her naked flesh, and ran a long finger down it.
"You do not bear the Dark Mark yet. And I have held back because you need to prove one final thing to me," Lord Voldemort said, smiling as he laid down the terms of this final chapter of the girl's initiation. "I need you to prove to me you truly understand Muggles."
Bellatrix's nose wrinkled as she looked around the dingy London pub. It was the sort favoured by old working men, all of whom looked like they belonged in the gutter, as best as she was concerned. She looked at him, and he smiled.
"Bella, won't you buy me a drink?" Voldemort smiled.
She stood up uneasily and made her way to the bar. A grubby fat man with a smudged face grinned in her face. "Wotcher lovely! What can I do you for?"
She recoiled. "Excuse me?"
"What are you and the gent having to drink?"
"Oh..." Bellatrix said slowly, before realising she had no idea what the Dark Lord would even drink. "Can I get, uh... one of those"
"Pint?"
"Yes, why not?" Bellatrix shrugged. "And I'll have a pumpkin juice, barkeep."
"A pumpkin juice?" The barman laughed as he pulled the pint of Guinness. "Are you havin' a giraffe?"
"A giraffe?" Bellatrix said, scowling at the man. She was barely twenty years old, but suddenly felt like an old woman being caught out by some clever teenagers speaking a made-up language.
"You from out of town, I take it?" The barman chuckled, letting the pint settle. "Not familiar with the ol' rhyming slang, eh?"
"Rhyming? Is this some kind of joke?"
The barman frowned. "No, it's fine. If you don't want something stronger to drink, I'll make you an Al Pachino."
"Oh, make me whatever," Bellatrix said, exhausted; as the barman busied himself making her a coffee, she got the impression the Dark Lord was listening to her struggle, and was laughing to himself.
"So is this.... rhyming slang a common thing among your sort, or is it just exceptional cases such as yourself?"
The barman was only half listening. "It's easy enough to get the 'ang of if you use your loaf and keep yer wits about you."
"Loaf?"
"Of bread. Head," the barman smiled. "Where are you from? You sound like you're from London, but..."
"We've travelled a long way," Bellatrix said, choosing not to make small talk with a petulant Muggle such as this one. "And I believe we shall keep on travelling soon."
"Like gypsies, eh?" The barman frowned. "As long as you don't put a curse on this place, it's fine. That's three pounds twenty, thanks."
Bella scowled as she stuffed her hand into her pocket, pulling out a few Muggle banknotes she had been forced to convert. "Is this enough?"
The barman blinked. "You've given me a pony, duck!"
"I asked if it's enough! I didn't wish to discuss animals with you!"
"It's more than enough," the barman said, taking the five pound note and opening the till.
"Keep the change!" Bellatrix screamed, staggering back to her table with a pint of Guinness and a cup of dirty-looking cappuccino. Lord Voldemort smiled at her, proud of his charge's bravery.
The pair of them tried to drink the brews, but neither could stand the dirty, bitter taste of either beverage, which refused to yield no matter how much they attempted to transfigure the contents. Satisfied, Lord Voldemort allowed Bellatrix to set the establishment on fire for her own entertainment, and granted her the Dark Mark the very same evening.
Title: Blue in the Face
Rating/Warnings: G, or PG.
Characters/Pairing: Percy/Neville. Kinda implied, but not really. Fluff stuff.
Summary: With the Monster of Slytherin on the loose, Percy returns to Gryffindor Tower from patrol, and encounters a student in distress.
Word Count: 832
Author's Notes: To Prompt #005 'Blue'. Written for erzebet, who is always looking for more Neville/Percy fluff.
Registered purchases?: Both
Percy's footsteps were the only ones that occupied the corridors at this time. He knew the Gryffinor students were too busy being under curfew, and the Prefects were not allowed to go anywhere by themselves, but he had just been allowed to stand down for the night by Professor McGonnagall, so he headed back to the dormitory by himself.
It was not a wise thing to do, but Percy knew deep down that he was not under any threat whatsoever. For one, he was a pure-blood wizard. Secondly, he was a prefect. The Heir of Slytherin wouldn't try anything quite as audacious as attacking a Prefect.
He was at the foot of the stairs of Gryffindor Tower when he heard a hissing, snuffling sound from one of the nearby side-rooms. His blood froze; it was only natural to freeze: Percy knew he wasn't to be targeted by the monster of Slytherin, but that didn't mean he couldn't fall foul to an accident. And what if the monster was caught? Two students, a ghost and a cat were down already. It was only natural for people to be afraid, and who knew what would happen to anyone who stood in the Heir's way?
But therein lay the problem. Percy knew he would have to do something to investigate the noise. His thoughts turned to Penny, a fellow Prefect but a Muggle-born. If he didn't stop the monster today, and it did something awful to her, he would never be able to live with the guilt.
Sure, it was terrifying to go in undefended, but what was a Gryffindor to do?
He steeled his nerves and opened the door with a sharp twang.
A boy squealed and fell off his chair. Percy looked down at the small, round-faced figure and tilted his head.
"What are you doing here? Why aren't you in the common room?"
"I, er, I lost my toad down here after dinner, and when I tried to get back into the common room, the Fat Lady wouldn't let me through! I'd forgotten the password and-"
"The password is Bombastes Furioso," Percy said, before looking at the boy. "You're Ron's friend, aren't you?"
"Yeah, yeah, er, Neville Longbottom."
"Why is Ron allowing you to be outside the dormitory after curfew? It's dangerous."
"It's... it's my fault. I'm sorry," Neville whispered, looking down at the floor. "I thought it would be a good idea to get out of the corridor. I didn't want to get in the way any more."
"Well, be that as it may," Percy began, "you should have been in there two hours ago."
"I know," Neville sniffed. "But I wanted to work on my homework."
"Homework?" Percy was stumped. "But you need to-"
"No, I need to do this!" Neville whimpered, and Percy was surprised to see the younger boy was on the brink of tears. "Professor Snape's threatening to, to get me punished if I fail this homework assigment! And I'm really bad at magic... I just don't get it! And I'm scared that I'll be targeted by the monster if I fail-"
"You won't be," Percy interrupted. "You're a Longbottom, right? Your family is as pure-blooded as mine, and-"
"No, Filch was targeted first; I'm not safe at all," muttered Neville, his face white and his eyes red. "That's why I need to do this now!"
Percy stood there awkwardly. He just wanted to chivvy Neville into the common room, but he was sure Fred and George were due to start bouncing off the walls any time soon. "When is the homework due?"
"Tomorrow morning," Neville admitted sadly.
Percy chuckled. "You're as bad as Ron. What's the problem?"
"I have to refine a potion recipe from last lesson. But when I made it, it turned deep blue."
"Blue?" Percy said, peering at the parchment. "What colour is it meant to be?"
"Golden orange," Neville chuckled weakly.
"Heh, okay," Percy said, pulling up a seat. "You're probably just mixing it wrong. Did it go blue early on?"
Between the two of them, they sat in the empty room, helping Neville work through the potions homework. He wasn't confident the final result was fully understood, but at least Neville wasn't worked up into such a stress about it like he had been shortly before. The boy looked up at Percy like he was some sort of mentor.
"You might have saved my life, you know?" Neville said thoughtfully, scribbling a final suggested flourish to the potion. "I really understood that, too."
Percy smiled and told Neville if he was every worried or upset, and he needed a helping hand with his homework, Percy would be more than happy to talk to him. That reassurance, if not the assistance alone, seemed to do the trick; Neville held himself taller as he packed his bag up and climbed the stairs with Percy.
"Bombastes Furioso!" Neville said proudly to the Fat Lady, who swept aside to let the two young men enter.
Title: Start-of-Term Announcements.
Rating/Warnings: PG-13 due to reference to death and war and dark stuff? idktbh
Characters/Pairing: Professor McGonagall, a few other random Smarms mentioned, too.
Summary: Minerva McGonagall begins her first school year as official Headmistress, and makes announcements to the school.
Word Count: 928
Author's Notes: Accio Fic Amnesty Day! For myself, because I wanted to write this for a while.
Registered purchases?: Yep, still both
Professor McGonagall looked at the Great Hall for the first time. It looked so similar to usual, but there was a clear difference in the atmosphere. It reminded her of when she was younger, and her old friends had had a long on-going heated feud, and it had all boiled over catastrophically, only to be replace with a serene calm now all the badness had been aired and dissipated.
But she could feel the scars lying beneath the surface. The events of last May could not be forgotten. It would be the first time she had made a speech such as this at an opening ceremony in all her years of teaching, but it had to happen. She clapped politely as the large influx of first-years took their seats at the four house tables at Professor Flitwick's behest, and she finally stood up to address her audience.
"Welcome all of you to Hogwarts," she announced proudly to the school. "We are very proud and happy to have you all back, and furthermore, we welcome a large number of first-year students to our midsts. I have several announcements I wish to make, all of which concern every student in this room, so please pay attention."
There was an excited buzz from all the tables; Minerva let it die down before continuing:
"I shall begin with staffing announcements," she proclaimed. "Firstly, I am beginning tenure as official Headmistress of Hogwarts School. I ask you all to be cooperative with this transition; even though I came to this position late last academic year, we are still trying to rememdy some problems. On top of this, Professor Sinistra of the Astronomy department shall be overtaking my duties as head of Gryffindor House. I ask my former students to make her feel welcome in this position."
The table adorned with scarlet and gold began clapping, as Professor Sinistra accepted it with a polite nod. Minerva waited.
"Additionally, we have two further changes in the lineup," she explained. "For one, we welcome Professor Diggle, who will be taking up the position of Muggle Studies Professor. Furthermore, we also welcome Professor Podmore as the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher."
The two wizards accepted the students' applause in the appropriate fashion: Dedalus Diggle was wearing a top hat instead of the usual formal hats worn by the academics, while Sturgis Podmore smiled thinly, looking at the new charges, presumably wondering why he had agreed to sign up for a supposedly-jinxed job in the first place.
"Now, I must stress something upon all students," McGonagall said, leaning forward, allowing her voice to carry to every corner of the room. "Last year, this school underwent a terrible and bloody battle. Most of you will remember it, but there are some here who do not. Some of the new students may have avoided the worst of the fighting. Indeed, some new students may have not even heard about it until now. But I mention this to everybody now: the war is over, and the school is a safe place to be. I ask you all to heed the Sorting Hat's words and stand together. Intolerance and prejudice will not be accepted from any party. This zero-tolerance policy begins immediately. Prefects shall be briefed on this accordingly."
"Furthermore, there are many students who are returning to school for the first time in twelve months. These are students who were unable to attend last year due to political reasons. We ask you to not harass them for the details if possible. Rather, we invite you to seize the opportunity to meet people you may have not done so in any other circumstance."
The students looked around at a few stragglers, mostly at the Gryffindor, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw tables, and it was known at once what the Headmistress meant: Muggle-borns, who had either been captured, turned away, or gone into hiding for a year, were finally returning to the surface. Minerva's eyes caught those of Hermione Granger's at the far corner of the room- seated next to Ginny Weasley of course- and she could make out a small smile.
"There are two final points on the matter: all students should note that a monument has been erected to remember those who lost their lives in the Wizarding War last year. Every student, teacher and friend of the school who gave their life for our freedom has been remembered on the shrine. Please feel free to pay your respects in your own time. We do not wish you to forget their names."
The students were silent, which pleased McGonagall. She continued: "Finally, due to the damage inflicted upon the castle by the War, there are still some areas that are out of bounds to all students. Age lines have been put up around the forbidden areas: no person under the age of twenty will be able to get within ten feet of any forbidden area. In short, that means no students, so do not attempt to try."
It was a shame what had been done to the school, but Professor McGonagall chose to wear the damages like battle scars. They would make the school stronger, and act as a reminder of what happens to those who venture too far off the path of righteousness. The students would learn by assosciation.
After making the usual remarks about the Forbidden Forest being off-limits, Quidditch tryouts, and all Weasley Wizard Wheezes products being banned, the feast began. The students began to make noise merrily as they ate, and Hogwarts felt like home once more.
931+832+928 = (2691 /30)
Rob // Gryffindor
89.7 90 points + 30 (or 40? 35?) bonus GET!!
(Mods: i'm a little confused by the points this week.
I did both april challenges, but i also did an amnesty thing here.
also, i maxed out along the line too, so idk, just smiling nicely cos it's 5:40am and fff work tomorrow.)