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Date: January 16th, 2013
Today's Forecast: The air is reminiscent of spring. The snow, turning slowly into a fine carpet of slush, is slowly disappearing after a decidedly warm spell.
We've moved!
HIRP: Reborn is located here.
It is now: Year 7 - Day 4 - Supper/Quidditch Practice

Happening now: Supper

Azkaban Trip is now out of time. Feel free to continue all plots as planned.

Feel free to finish all plots out of time.
Next: Day 5: Valentine's Day
Read Today's Daily Prophet: Knights of Walpurgis attack Hogwarts; Belleford steps down as Hogwarts closes until further notice
Welcome to Hogwarts Interactive Role Play, one of the net's best in Harry Potter and Hogwarts role plays. We hope you enjoy your visit.

Here at Hogwarts our students are currently in their Seventh Year. Last year, the war against the Knights crescendoed into a direct attack against the school. Disappearances are still reported (or not) daily, and the Dark Lord and his Knights of Walpurgis have succeeded in spreading their message of "do as thou will" far and wide across the globe. Magical Law Enforcement, which is now the only authority in the wizarding world under Martial Law, has responded by tightening security, controlling the media, and strictly enforcing curfews and other laws. Their control is damaging to the people's freedom, and their hierarchy is a suspicious lot. It is clear that some members of the MLE like their new found power a bit too much, others see it necessary, but all are in serious danger of being consumed by it. But with the picture of just what Azariah Amaranth is after becoming ever clearer, and a third player in the form of a group called SAVIOR entering the scene, what will the MLE do next to ensure that they've got the situation under control?

The Elementium, the Higher Plane that had once been hidden just beyond the veil in the Department of Mysteries, and the Deathly Hallows. The pieces of the puzzle have been identified, but what picture do they make?

Today is Day 1 of Year Seven. Students have had time to recover from the Knight's attack, and are beginning to reluctantly return to the walls of Hogwarts. The safety of the school has been diminished, bringing up the question everyone must ask. Are you safe anywhere these days? It's up to each individual to decide their fate, where will you decide to go?

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The Grounds; Quidditch, Round 2.
Topic Started: Jan 9 2009, 11:12:19 PM (670 Views)
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Ian was quite shocked to see that his head of house wasn't about to string him up by his toenails in the castle dungeons for knocking him down. And even more shocked when the Professor known for being a jerk and a hardass made an attempt at small talk.

Oh how Ian wished he had the time to tell someone, anyone his thoughts on Alphonse and that cow Belladonna--queen of the bloody free world--Quagmire-de Ponte du Lac. Bah! But he didn't have time.

"Sorry Professor!" he said, grabbing his broom, "but I've got to go!" Ian made to run past him, yelling back, "Enjoy the--"

He didn't get to finish his sentence. The pounding feeling in his head suddenly intensified, filling his head with an excrutiating, yet familiar pain. It brought him to the ground, convulsing; screaming. This had happened before, he was able to think, just before he blacked out.

His last coherent thought was that it hadn't been this bad the first time.

He lay there convulsing, screaming. But he did not hear any of that. His mind was once again cut off from the outside world. All he heard was a voice. It wasn't Aunt Julia's, he could tell that much:

So long...so long, it said, So cold. So cold. Only the dead to keep me company. I can't help the dead. I can help you, now...

"Who are you!?" Ian called out aloud. Anyone outside his head could have heard him, unbeknown to the boy having the seizure.

"I...am the will of the universe. You know me by many names, but you've never known me. I've been away for so long...so cold...so happy to finally be heard again."

Then, another voice. This one was familiar, soothing. He felt arms wrap around him. Ian couldn't tell if they were real or inside his head.

"Its going to be okay," came the voice of Aunt Julia. It was stronger than it was before. Ian looked up into the face of a beautiful dark skinned young woman. Her eyes were wide and consoling, "I thought this day might come. You're going to be okay. Just have a rest...even if it is but a short one..." Ian heard no more voices, but his convulsions did not cease.

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Charles Tortal
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Magical Concepts Professor
[ * ]
Charles stopped and looked back at Ian as he grabbed his broom and was about to race off to the Pitch. He understood why Ian couldn't wait and that was the main reason he asked him in the first place. Pulling back his sleeve and examining his watch, Charles cleared his throat.

20 seconds. Charles smoothed down his hair and then continued to walk towards the pitch.

"Sorry Professor!" Ian said, grabbing his broom, "but I've got to go!" The boy passed him. Professor Tortal glanced at his watch. "5... 4... 3... 2..."

"Enjoy the--" Charles was taken aback when his student didn't finish his sentence, but instead was replaced with a crash upon the ground and yelling. Raising his eyebrows and looking to Ian, Tortal noted that he was convulsing upon the ground like a fish out of water. Charles raised his hand to his chin and began to rub at his lower lip with his index finger.

He knew then that this wasn't just a coincidence. It was too well connected - Ian was now convulsing on the ground and the veil along with the Department of Ministries was destroyed. "Who are you!?"

Charles retrieved his wand, shining it on his sleeve and preparing it to be used. Ian continued to convulse, Tortal watched and took his time. Finally after about a minute, the professor turned his wand upon Ian. "Stupefy."

A red bolt shot from the man's wand and connected with Ian's body, stopping the convulsions. He sighed. "Might as well take you to the hospital wing, eh?" Charles said to himself. Waving his wand once again, the boy's body levitated and the professor took him off the grounds and to the hospital wing.
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