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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.
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It is now: Year 7 - Day 4 - Supper/Quidditch Practice

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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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Champagne Dreams
Topic Started: Jun 27 2009, 10:18:33 PM (1,031 Views)
Elle Kennedie
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Sixth Year

Elle was in a surprisingly quiet mood as she walked out of the castle and onto the grounds. She smiled a little to herself as a gentle breeze pushed her copper curls back from her shoulders and ruffled the hem of her plain white sundress. She shifted her guitar more comfortably across her back and took a deep breath, meandering over to the shore of the lake. She took a seat on the ground and situated herself, pulling her guitar into her lap and leaning against the base of a tree. She sighed deeply and for a moment closed her eyes, listening to the hush of the world around her and losing herself in thoughts.

She was thinking of home and her parents, Nicolette and Zane. They had such a beautiful, romantic story, on she had been told so many times that it was etched permanently in her mind and soul. Elle found herself wanting that, someone to sweep her off her feet; someone to break down the wall she seemed to throw up whenever she started getting close to someone. She wanted it more than anything, but she wondered if she could ever truly commit to someone, trust them with her life and her heart and her innermost thoughts. In her mind, no one was ever going to be good enough for her, at least not good enough to share those things with.

She sighed and opened her eyes, plucking out a few random notes on her guitar before settling into a song. She played the opening riff several times more than was usual, enjoying the sound of the quiet, sweet notes floating in the air. Finally she opened her mouth to sing, her voice low and a little breathy, almost perfectly pitched and soothing to listen to.

"I was a little girl,
Alone in my little world,
Just dreamin' of a little home for me.
I played pretend between the trees,
And fed my houseguests bark and leaves,
And laughed in my pretty bed of green.
I had a dream...

That I could fly
From the highest tree,
I had a dream..."


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Kane Resultran
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Seventh Year; Ravenclaw Quidditch Captain; His Royal High and Mighty Godly Modship

Kane walked onto the Grounds, his hood up, his wand in his jacket pocket. It wasn't advised to be out of bounds this time of night, but from what he'd heard, it wasn't against school rules. He walked to the edge of the Black Lake, and admired the beauty. The giant squid had poked its head out of the water and was observing the Durmstrang ship. Kane turned around and saw a girl, about his age, leaning against a tree trunk, strumming a guitar and singing a tune. He walked over to her from behind. "Why, hello there," he said, his voice breathy. "That's quite a blissful song you're singing there." He grinned and spoke again. "Do you mind," he paused, "if I sit next to you?"
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Elle Kennedie
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Sixth Year

Elle smiled a little at the squid who had poked his head up to visit the world for a while. She had always been a sucked for animals, even ones that most people didn't consider cute. In fact, some of her favorite animals were sort of off the wall ones: hippos, zebras, fennec foxes, among many others.

"Why, hello there. That's quite a blissful song you're singing there. Do you mind if I sit next to you?"

Her breath caught in her throat and she whirled around, her fingers fumbling over the strings of her guitar, making a significantly less pleasant sound than the previous ones. She stared up at this stranger, her eyes wide and her mouth a little open, completely surprised by his sudden appearance. She blinked at him a few times before closing her mouth, flicking her tongue over her lips and turning back towards the lake. She caught her breath, realizing that she was taking an absurd amount of time responding to him. Finally she turned back to him, nodding a little bit.

"Sure. Have a seat, then."

She turned, facing the lake and resting her hands on her guitar, making no move to say anything else. She was at a complete loss for words, an unusual feeling for her. So instead she just sat there, resolving not to say anything until he did. She stole a fleeting glance in his direction, but she didn't recognize him as anyone she'd ever seen before.


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Kane Resultran
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Seventh Year; Ravenclaw Quidditch Captain; His Royal High and Mighty Godly Modship

Kane squatted down next to the girl, who had begun to stare at the lake. The pleasant tune that emanated from her instrument was very amusing. He watched the lake with a fond expression showing on his face, listening to the sounds of nature. Kane turned slowly to the girl and smiled under his hood. "You've no idea who I am, do you?" he said, chuckling. "Well, I'm sorry. That's my fault. I suppose I should have introduced myself before, err... barging in on you. You obviously felt like being alone. But, in any case... my name is Kane Resultran." He stuck out his hand, held it there for a moment, then hastily pulled it back. Kane looked up at the castle as he heard a magnified voice yell the names of the Champions.

"Marianne Quicompoix!... Piotr Rasputin!... and none other than our very own, Tristan Nightshade!"

This announcement made by the Headmistress was followed by vast amounts of cheering.

Quicompoix? That has to mean that she's related to Katriane, then. And who exactly is this Piotr Rasputin fellow? I should congratulate Tristan. Maybe tonight at Savannah's party after the feast.

Kane grinned. "So, err... is that who you expected to become Cham--" But his sentence was cut off. A large barn owl had flown right above him and dropped an envelope. "I wonder who this is from. The mail is supposed to be monitored now, so it has to be from the Ministry to come straight to me." He looked at the girl. "I'm sorry, you'll have to excuse me...."

Kane stood up and walked to the edge of the lake and opened the envelope carefully. The paper was a light violet colour and had quite a bit of writing on it. It read:

Mr. Kane Resultran
The Grounds
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Dearest Mr. Resultran,

It is with the Ministry's greatest regret that we must inform you that your parents, Calvin Resultran and Darma Resultran, have passed away earlier this evening at twenty-one minutes past seven. The cause of death, as shown from them having no apparent injuries, is suspected to have been the Killing Curse.

Ministry Officials have been sent to inspect your place of residence, otherwise known as the Resultran House, in order to find any clues as to the reason of murder. We greatly sympathize with you and your loss, and your sisters have been dually informed of the tragedy.

Best regards with the current situations,

Mafalda Hopkirk


Kane stood there, baffled. He dropped the letter and it fluttered onto the black surface of the lake, where it lingered for a moment before sinking into the icy depths of the water. But... that... that can't be possible! I mean... my father always seemed so strong, so tough. He never would have let this happen! And there was the Fidelius Charm placed upon our house! There's no way a Knight would have been able to get in. It's just not possible. Dad was our Secret Keeper. There was no way that he could have let it slip. Unless it was tortured out of him. But that's not possible. Dad told me he'd learnt to resist the Cruciatus Curse. He was dumbstruck, in shock. It certainly couldn't be possible. It was not true. And how had the Ministry received the news so soon? It was such a short time since they passed. It had been just over an hour. It could only have been about half past eight right now! Kane shook his head. No. It's not possible.

Then, suddenly remembering where he was, Kane walked back to the girl in the white sundress. "I'm sorry," he said, a tone of mock cheerfulness in his voice. "Where was I? Erm, I believe I had just introduced myself. I'm Kane Resultran... again. You are?" He seemed unbelievably happy. If, if it is true, Kane... then you'll just have to move on. The Fidelius Charm is still there. You and your sisters are Secret Keepers in turn. You'll just have to be vigilant from now on. Kane then remembered, as he'd heard Mad-Eye Moody say at the World Cup before he'd left... "Constant vigilance!"
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Elle Kennedie
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Sixth Year

Elle turned to face him as he spoke, a trace of a smile playing around her still red lips. Her fingers squeezed tight around the neck of her guitar -- Svetlana -- as she listened.

"You've no idea who I am, do you?"


She bit gently on her lip and shook her head, a few rogue curls tumbling in front of her shoulders. When he offered his hand she gazed at it for a second before lifting her own at the same time he pulled his back. She blushed a little bit and put her hand back down on her lap, her fingertips brushing the strings. She distantly heard the announcement of the champions, but she couldn't find it in her to care. She didn't know any of these people. It didn't affect her in the least. She looked over at him as he asked her if it was who she expected, but her response was interrupted by the arrival of a wide-eyed messenger.

She nodded and watched him rise and walk to the edge of the lake. She sighed deeply, a feeling of emptiness seeping deep into her soul. She wasn't ready to hit rock bottom. Not now. Just twenty minutes ago she was completely fine, happy even. And now? It was amazing what a little bit of time and some well-placed guitar chords could do to her. She continued on her song very quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. At last he came back, a phony cheerfulness in his voice. She had always been perceptive, and she could tell something was very very wrong. She cleared her throat and took a moment to find her train of thought.

"I'm," she began hesitantly, "Uhh..Sorry. I'm Elle. Kennedie. Elle Kennedie. Pleased to meet you. So what was the letter about? I can tell something's up."

The thing was, she was worried he would think she was just being nosy. But contrary to what most people would think, she was being sincere. She genuinely cared what happened, and wanted to listen to what he had to say. Elle was one of those rare souls, the kind that only come around once in a blue moon; and even though she could be hard to deal with, she was honest about things that mattered to her, and truly cared about the people who deserved it. So, for the millionth time in her life, she prepared herself to open her ears and her heart to a complete stranger.


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Kane Resultran
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Seventh Year; Ravenclaw Quidditch Captain; His Royal High and Mighty Godly Modship

"So what was the letter about? I can tell something's up."

Kane grinned and looked at the lake. "Oh, it was nothing," he said quietly. Nothing that you'd need to know about, he told himself. Kane reached into his pocket and fiddled with his wand before pulling it out and pointing it at the floor. "Err... Accio firewood." Immediately, a number of logs flew out from the Forbidden Forest and landed themselves in front of him. He gave his wand a little twitch whilst muttering, "Incendio." The logs burned and created a magnificent blue flame. "So, err... I haven't seen you around Hogwarts very much," he said, turning back to Elle. "Are you new? Or do we just run in different circles?"
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Elle Kennedie
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Sixth Year

She yawned slightly, covering her mouth with slender, delicate fingers, her nails unpainted and ragged. She peered into the flames for a minute, watching them dance and consume in fascination. She could feel herself sinking, her mood rapidly changing from sulky to reckless. She knew she was getting to the point where she would do anything to forget feeling so badly, and she hated that. She looked up at him, her eyes a little blank, but glittering pleasantly in the firelight.

"I'm new. I really haven't been here long enough to have a circle. Look, I'm not...completely senseless, and I won't push the matter but..you know if you want to talk I'm actually a really good listener. So feel free to hunt me down if you need to talk about whatever that was," she said with a quick gesture to the lake.

She looked back down at her guitar, placing her fingers and plucking out a few quiet notes. It wasn't really anything, just a random melody, but it calmed her. For a moment she floated pleasantly by the idea of running away from this place, restlessness kicking in. But she brushed it off and played a few more soothing notes, trying to focus.


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Kane Resultran
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Seventh Year; Ravenclaw Quidditch Captain; His Royal High and Mighty Godly Modship

Kane shrugged. "Well, it's a pleasure to meet you," he said. "And I'm pretty sure it's nothing. Nothing that concerns you, anyways." Kane quickly caught his mistake. "Oh, err... I mean, you don't really need to know. It's between my family and I...."

And apparently the Ministry....
Kane looked up at the castle, then back at the Kennedie girl. He folded up his right sleeve and checked his watch. The watch was old and rusty, but that would change once he turned seventeen. It was traditional in the Wizarding world to give a wizard a watch when he came of age. "Well, I can see that it's getting late," he said gloomily. "I guess I'll be seeing you around, then?" Kane smiled and unfolded his sleeve and pointed his wand at the fire. "Aguamenti." A jet of water erupted from Kane's wand and doused the blue flames, soaking the logs. Kane then aimed his wand at the watersoaked logs. "Expulso," he murmured, and the logs flew back into the forest. "Good evening," Kane said curtly.

Kane stowed his wand back in its holster and smiled at Elle, before heading back up to the castle to go back to the Feast.
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Elle Kennedie
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Sixth Year

Elle blinked up at him, completely silent as he said his goodbyes and left, somewhat abruptly. She smiled back and gave a little wave and watched him walk away.

"So much for that."

She shook her head and looked back out at the lake, a little miffed by his departure. She gave a short, bitter laugh into the darkness as she stood. Probably wasn't anywhere near her standards anyway. She brushed herself off wordlessly and marched back up to the castle, determined to go back to the feast and have a little fun. There was no way she was going to go bed sober and single (at least for the night), not when she had such an amazing costume.


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Hellius Surla
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If we see a man glorifying his race, gender, or creed, we can understand there is nothing about himself that deserves glorification.

After walking off towards the Black Lake, Hellius plopped himself down in the sand and looked out onto the eerily still waters, crowding his body close to keep warm in the winter-esque air. He pondered going to Hogsmeade on his own accord to get alcohol and get drunk on his own, but he wasn't a drinker like that. He usually only liked getting drunk on social occasions when everyone else was planning to stay sober. It made a jackass of himself, sure, but he had fun with it afterwards as well.

Rolling his shoulders again, he lit a cigarette in his mouth and took a drag, blowing the smoke out towards the lake, watching it as it dissipated into the air.
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Olivia Linnet
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Sixth Year

Olivia walked out onto the Grounds, pulling the giant Olive off her body, now donning a red sweater and matching hat with green pants. The crisp, cool night air fell upon her body like a sigh of relief, the perfect contrast from the warmth of the Great Hall. Her left arm around her paper mache monstrosity, she began strolling across the grounds. It was a clear night, the stars clearly visible above the castle. The radiant moon shone over the Black Lake, and in its reflection, a figure was visible, silhouetted against the gleaming waters.

I thought everyone was at the feast...


Curiosity getting the better of her, Olivia discretely began inching toward the lake, attempting to get a better view. With all the intrusions of late, she wondered if it could be a potentially dangerous Dark wizard. She slipped her wand out of her pocket, holding it at the ready.

Just in case.

Where the lawn began to slope into the sandy shore, Olivia stood on her tiptoes, eager to catch a glimpse-

Suddenly, the olive slipped from her grip and began tumbling toward the Black Lake.

"Bloody hell!"
she cursed, all attempt of secrecy abandoned. She sprinted after her costume, but it bounced over a log and splashed into the lake. With a groan of frustration, she sat upon the ill-placed log.

"It took me three days to make that," Olivia muttered, her head in her hands. Without missing a beat, she added in a glum tone, "Hi Hellius," whose identity she realized in moments.
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Hellius Surla
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If we see a man glorifying his race, gender, or creed, we can understand there is nothing about himself that deserves glorification.

With hearing of a wolf due to his own unfortunately painful affliction, Hellius could hear footsteps approaching his position before the actual silence of the night was broken with an abrupt yell, followed by tumbling through the darkness. Hellius stared ahead, not bothering to look over his shoulder nor acknowledge that anyone had tumbled down the hill. He simply gaped upon the moon and its reflection of the water, taking a drag of his cigarette.

"Olivia," he welcomed, glancing back at her and then taking another drag of his cigarette, "I honestly think you look better without trudging around in a giant watermelon."

He knew it was an olive, but without the interior, Olive's costume simply looked like a giant, hollow watermelon; he was simply being sarcastic.

Sighing out of habit, he shook his head, clearing his hair of his face. "Somehow I expected you to be off partying."
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Olivia Linnet
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Sixth Year

"Olivia, I honestly think you look better without trudging around in a giant watermelon."

"Ha ha. Always the charmer, aren't you? Anyway, it's an olive." She looked up to watch the green mass bob and dissolve in the gently ebbing waters.

"Somehow I expected you to be off partying."

Olive shrugged. "It got to be a bit much in there. You try walking around a humongous castle wearing a giant pun and then sitting at a shmancy feast. Besides, I needed the air." She rolled her shoulders back and looked up, gazing at the sky.

"So what are you doing out here by yourself? Mighty suspicious if you ask me."
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Hellius Surla
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If we see a man glorifying his race, gender, or creed, we can understand there is nothing about himself that deserves glorification.

"Mighty suspicious if you ask me."

Hellius slapped his lips and then took another drag of his cigarette, staying quiet for a few moments. He knew Olive was trying to kid around, engage in small talk, but he really didn't have a lot to say that was completely positive. He could've responded in a manner that could disengage all further attempts to reach out to him, but he didn't want to lose the company. There was something about Hellius in his current state that wished to retreat and be alone, but there was something else, just there, that wished for contact with another human. Neither of the feelings were particularly strong, but it calmed him: the isolation spent with another person.

"I suppose so. But I really couldn't care. I'm enjoying the quiet solitude of nature, trying not to get too caught up in..." he trailed off, not wanting to discuss his own issues.
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Olivia Linnet
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Sixth Year

"I suppose so. But I really couldn't care. I'm enjoying the quiet solitude of nature, trying not to get too caught up in..." He trailed off. Olivia looked at him quizzically. She was curious, but she wasn't going to push it.

"Yeah, it's nice out here. Sorry about breaking the solitude... I hope you don't mind if I stick around." She repositioned herself so that her head was leaning against the long, her kneed pulled up to her chest. The quiet sloshing of the water relaxed her, and she closed her eyes.

"So is the infamous Hellius Surla too cool to dress up for Halloween? Or just too unimaginative?" she asked jokingly.
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Hellius Surla
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If we see a man glorifying his race, gender, or creed, we can understand there is nothing about himself that deserves glorification.

"Probably a bit of both, plus some laziness," Hellius responded before taking a drag of the cigarette and tapping the tip, allowing the ash to fall to the sand below. "Make yourself at home, really. If you like this sort of thing, I thing we'll get along just fine."

Oh, Hellius. So many changes. Why, I wonder, have you become such a spineless swine? Don't you remember what you were? Don't you remember what we are?

Hellius closed his eyes, trying to retreat from pain in the back of his eye sockets. His body flexed and tensed up dramatically as the Gryffindor attempted to keep himself from being possessed once again.

Tsk... tsk... tsk...

As the rest of his body began to shake, appearing from the outside as if he had shivers, Hellius's fingers withhold of the cigarette between his lips and his arm slowly moved downward, the tip growing closer and closer to exposed skin on his other arm.

You know that all efforts against me are futile. I can control... every part of you.

Hellius' leg kicked out, the kneecap popping. The glowing tip of the cigarette slowly grew closer to his skin.

And it's such a pity that this also applies to your voice... As much as I know you want to cry for help...

As much as he truly did. He hated the pain that the parasite always caused him and he hoped that he wouldn't have to experience it. The pain is what made him to be what he was known by the school.

I won't let you.

Struggling to keep the cigarette tip from piercing against his skin, Hellius tried in vain to yell out to Olive. Not even a groan or grumble escaped from his throat or nose, and as he shook in silence, the cigarette grew closer and closer.

Tsk...

Hellius could feel the warmth as it grew closer.

Tsk...

Digging his nails into his palm, Hellius struggled even further as the tip of the cigarette was just centimeters from meeting with his skin.

Ts--

"STOP. MY. ARM," Hellius called out to Olive, being capable to keep his right arm from pressing the tip of the cigarette against his arm.
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Olivia Linnet
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Sixth Year

"Make yourself at home, really. If you like this sort of thing, I thing we'll get along just fine."

Olive smiled, bringing her arms behind her neck. "Thanks." The night was still, the cold air creeping through Olivia's body. She gave a little shiver. Glancing over at Hellius, he too seemed to be shaking.

"You cold? We can go back inside if you want..." Olivia paused. Something was wrong. Hellius took his cigarette out of his mouth and began lowering it towards his arm.

"What the hell are you doing?" Olivia asked incredulously, getting to her feet and cautiously approaching him. His leg kicked out.

"Calm down, Surla,"
she said, both defensive and startled. Fear began creeping into her veins.

"Are...are you okay? Should I go inside and get-"

"STOP. MY. ARM."


Olivia blinked, confused. Still, she crouched down beside him and attempted to pull his arm away.

"This isn't funny, Hellius. If this is your idea of a Halloween prank..." The force of his arm was too much. In frustration, she took out her wand.

"Petrificus Totalus!"

With the boy's body frozen, Olivia wrenched the cigarette from his grasp and flicked it into the water of the Black Lake.

"Finite,"
she said with another flick of her wand. She continued, beginning calmly, "So tell me, just so I know before you have another episode; are you mad!?"
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Hellius Surla
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If we see a man glorifying his race, gender, or creed, we can understand there is nothing about himself that deserves glorification.

You got off lucky.

With the disappearance of pain in the back of his eye sockets, Hellius laid in the sand, stunned, relieved, his heart beating profusely. He wasn't sure what to do: explain his situation to a girl who could then spread the news around the school, forcing him to leave, or keep it to himself and keep her view of him as simply a homicidal nut.

He stayed quiet, his eyes closed, taking deep breaths, trying to calm himself.

"I-it's..." he stuttered, "a very, very long story."
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Olivia Linnet
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Sixth Year

"I-it's... a very, very long story."

Olivia's heartbeat slowed to a normal pace, but her body was still on edge. She sat beside Hellius, giving him a moment to recuperate. Olivia swallowed, closing her eyes and breathing in the autumn air. She opened them once more and turned to Hellius.

"What just happened?"
she asked softly, meeting his eyes for the first time that evening. She was genuinely concerned; for his mental welfare and for her own safety.
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Hellius Surla
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If we see a man glorifying his race, gender, or creed, we can understand there is nothing about himself that deserves glorification.

A gentile breeze blew over the two as they laid in the sand. Hellius was now unsure of how to explain the situation, but now that he had proposed the idea, there was no going back.

"It began in our second year- this thing. I don't remember much, only awakening to unbelievable, burning pain and bright, orange-red, magical blotches all over my skin. They rolled over my body like waves, crashing into my skin, and seeping into my body tissue. The healers didn't know what it was and were puzzled, apparently scared out of their minds. I was in pain, writhing and flailing under the bounds and straps that kept me pinned to the bed."

His eyes closed, Hellius tried to recollect everything. From the times he was taken into his subconscious to the murder- everything. He paused for a moment, trying to decide how to present it without coming out with too much shock value.

"Professor Tortal came, and diagnosed what the healers could not: I had a magical parasite, implanted into my body from an unknown source."
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