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Gryffindor: 170 |
Slytherin: 48 |
Ravenclaw: 880 |
Hufflepuff: 1022 |
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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. |
HIRP: Reborn is located here. |
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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? You're currently viewing our forum as a guest. This means you are limited to certain areas of the board and there are some features you can't use. If you join our community, you'll be able to access member-only sections, and use many member-only features such as customizing your profile, sending personal messages, and voting in polls. Registration is simple, fast, and completely free. If you are interested in joining our forum as a role player, please take a look at the Joining HIRP Checklist (click me!) for an easy-to-follow guide on how to join! Click here to register! Await your email confirmation before you can post. If you're already a member please log in to your account to access all of our features: |
| Snowball Fight; Y7, Day3, After Breakfast | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Nov 15 2012, 10:09:52 PM (1,241 Views) | |
| Ana Banana | Nov 30 2012, 07:16:53 PM Post #21 |
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Sixth Year
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"Hey Ana! Room for two more over there?" She heard her name called, followed by a question. She twirled around in a circle, merely surprised. No one was yet to have joined her, and a chuckle escaped from her chapped lips. She peered at the two, both from her house, and gave an earnest nod. She turned to the speaker, Ray, and gave him a friendly wink. "Why, of course! I could use all the help I can get!" Which is a lot, she thought to herself as her freshly made snowball began to melt in her hand. With her hand extended, she offered the frozen ball to Ray, dropping it into his palms. "You can't be any worse than me." She said in a light tone. Her lips turned up, and she sent a friendly smile to the gryffindor girl. "I don't believe we've met. I'm Ana Banana." Introducing herself, she grasped the unknown girl's hand and shook it politely. The girl seemed a tad bit shy, but Ana had a knack for putting people at easy and making them feel welcome. Making friends was second nature to Ana. She watched as the girl packed together snowballs. One by one, she made them, until a pile began to rise above the ground. They were perfectly round and smooth, putting Ana's snowball making to shame. She giggled to herself, and made her own lopsided snowballs. She then added them to the hill of wet ammo that they were creating. She beamed at the girl named Opal whenever she spoke, saying that Ana could use the snowballs as well. However, she had another idea in mind. "You should throw a snowball!" Opal had, afterall, rolled together most of the spheres that laid before her. She deserved to be apart of the game, lousy throw or not. It was a game of fun, and Ana believed everyone should participate. She grinned at Ray whenever he claimed that it was hard to resist joining her with all the fun she appeared to be having. As good of a time she was having, it was nice to have fellow gryffindors by her side. "I'm certainly glad you did! I was beginning to think the only company I would be having was the snowballs." She spoke, teasingly, and glanced at all the fallen snowballs around her. One thing is certain, Ana Banana could use some improvement. Edited by Ana Banana, Nov 30 2012, 07:22:25 PM.
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| Opal Martin | Dec 2 2012, 05:19:23 PM Post #22 |
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Shy Gryffindor Artist
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Opal smiled politely at Ana. The girl seemed really nice. Not like a fake, like some people tried to be to the quiet Gryffindor. "I-I'm Opal M-M-Martin," 'You have got to be kidding me', Opal thought to herself in frustration. It was one word, one tiny word- her own crazy last name! "A-Ana B-Banana? I-I m-mean, it's-s a-a pretty name, b-but the l-last-t n-name is-s a-a little unusual. N-no offense, o-or a-anything-g...." Opal trailed off, realizing she'd probably overstepped her bounds. She hoped Ana wouldn't get mad at her- she didn't want to cause some sort of conflict. If need be, she could always step out, if Ana was annoyed or something. She didn't want to cause trouble with anyone. When Ana suggested that she throw a snowball, Opal paled (if that was even possible- her skin was milky white). "O-oh, this is-s enough f-for m-me. I-I can d-do some extra r-repairs-s t-to the f-fort though- it-t l-l-looks like s-something-g broke through the e-edge a-a while a-ago. O-once I-I aimed-d for m-my own-n head-d i-in-n gym class-s," Quickly, Opal ducked down to the edge of what she had decided to call the drop off. She needed sticks. The quickest way for her to make a good, strong repair for the fort was to create a skeleton on the inside- luckily, they had positioned themselves near enough to the tree that there were some sticks in easy reach. Well, sort of easy reach. That counted- didn't it? Running out for several feet, she dodged a few snowballs, and ran back with the sticks in her arms. She quickly hammered a few into the fort, spaced well enough apart. She kept an inch above, grabbed several hair ties from her wrist, and began to 'tie' the sticks together. Once that was done, she added more snow, and the repair seemed to be working like a charm. She went back to making snowballs quietly and setting them in the ammo pile- the were running a little low. Opal was having so much fun, she didn't notice the sleeve of her robe soaking in a bit of redness, or a couple of snowballs here and there. After all, with the thrill of an all out war, a minor cut was nothing. What she did notice, however, was the rumbling of her stomach. She blushed out of embarrassment, hoping neither Ray nor Ana had heard. She also hoped the game would be over soon. Though she was having a ton of fun, breakfast seemed like hours ago! Edited by Opal Martin, Dec 3 2012, 10:25:17 PM.
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![]() Thanks Montana! Opal Martin/ Plot Annette Johnson/Plot | |
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| Ginny Weasley | Dec 4 2012, 01:29:24 AM Post #23 |
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Seventh Year & Gryffindor Chaser. I love Dave. I AM THE SWAN QUEEEEEEEEN!
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|| OOC: idk if this is still going on, but if it is you can bet that I want to be part of it || Ginny burst through the front doors of the castle and charged onto the battlefield. Terry's goodbye kiss still lingered on her lips; she wiped her mouth on her sleeve to try and forget the feeling. There was no time for distractions now. Her plan today had been to tag along with him on his prefect rounds, but when she looked out the window and saw this happening, she couldn't resist coming out to play. So she patted him affectionately on the shoulder, but he yanked her back for a kiss before she left. Sweet, yes. Helpful, no. But it didn't matter because now she was free of distractions. She spotted a few seventh year Gryffindors and ran towards them. They seemed to be building some sort of fort structure. She playfully kicked up some snow at them. "Hey Ana, Ray - and Opal, right?" The third girl was less familiar to her, but Ginny was pretty good at eavesdropping - er, remembering names, that is. "You guys got room for one more on your tea--AHHHH!" She ducked just in time as two snowballs in a row whooshed right over her head. "Oh, these fourth years are going down!" Ginny pulled her sweater sleeves down over her hands (who needs gloves, anyway?) and started forming Quaffle-sized lumps of snow. |
![]() Plot page. Outfit. Character sheet. POSTER OF THE 100,000th FORUM POST!!! ORIGINAL HOUSEWIFE OF HIRP | |
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| Opal Martin | Dec 4 2012, 05:30:31 PM Post #24 |
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Shy Gryffindor Artist
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Opal blanched. More people? When did she get so popular? All she did was sit in the back of the class, do her work at a satisfactory level, and avoid getting called on. Then, at meals and in her dorm, she sat with her friend Mr. Sketchbook. She was pretty sure the girls in her dorm had no idea who she was, and she had no idea who the girls in her dorm were. The only person outside of family she really talked to was Freya. "Y-yeah, O-opal," She told Ginny (at least, she was pretty sure that was her name). She shrugged. She certainly wasn't going to ban anyone from joining the little team they'd hobbled together. Then again, she didn't feel like it was her decision- she wasn't taking much of a leadership role, here. She was shy, but then again, if this girl wasn't going to make fun of her, then more power to her. She pushed a couple of her snowballs from the ammo pile over to.....Ginny, then went back to making more. Another rumble from her stomach made her blush with intensity and continue as if nothing had happened. With any luck, Ray, Ana, and Ginny would blame it on a squirrel. Edited by Opal Martin, Dec 6 2012, 06:17:44 PM.
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![]() Thanks Montana! Opal Martin/ Plot Annette Johnson/Plot | |
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| Freya Willoughby | Dec 9 2012, 05:30:18 PM Post #25 |
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Hufflepuff's Chief Mischief Maker
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Freya glanced out of the window, a smile growing over her face as she took in the acres of land covered in beautifully white snow. It came every year without fail to their school, and through the years the novelty aspect had yet to wear off. Shrugging on her robes, Freya wound a long woollen scarf around her neck, before hunting under her bed for her gloves, faint memories of her throwing them there the previous evening in a rushed attempt at making the place look tidy. Pulling on her boots, she tied her hair in a ponytail before running out onto the grounds, almost toppling a couple of younger students on her way in her excitement. Crunching through the fresh layers, she found a group near the place she had agreed to meet Opal, an occasional ball flying through the air. Squinting as the sunlight bounced off the snow, Freya made out the face of her friend, talking to a couple of people and maybe discussing tactics for the battle that seemed to be looming, judging by the heap of balls prepared around them. "Hey Opal!" she greeted happily to her friend, a nod to the others who she took classes with. "So- a snowball fight huh?" she grinned, rooting around her pockets for her gloves. |
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| Opal Martin | Dec 9 2012, 07:46:06 PM Post #26 |
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Opal smiled at Freya- her best friend. Freya was pretty much the only person who refused to take Opal's "shy" exterior as "not personable", and the two had become fast friends way back in first year. "Yeah! You surprised? Wanna join, Freys-s?" she asked happily. The British accent, carefully cultivated around her classmates, was dropped immediately and her fluency improved to a noticeable extent. Opal had gone through the stages of warm-up with Freya years ago. She tightened the strap around her glasses a little and handed Freya one of Opal Martin's patented perfect snow balls (still not noticing the fact that her arm was still bleeding). She quickly decided to introduce Freya to the team. "Freya, do you know Ray, Ana, and Ginny? They're in Gryffindor with me, and we k-kind of just formed a team together. E-everyone, this-s is F-Freya, my b-best f-friend. She's i-in Hufflepuff," . |
![]() Thanks Montana! Opal Martin/ Plot Annette Johnson/Plot | |
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| Brock Baker | Dec 10 2012, 04:55:35 PM Post #27 |
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Auror | DADA Teacher | Head of MLE
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Although he had planned to make it for the start of the fight, Brock had been halted by one of his Aurors on the way to the Grounds. It was merely a regular report he'd requested for the day and some adjustments had to be made to the patrols around the castle, with so many students being allowed and even encouraged outside. In the end, the head of security opted to mount a broom and check on all the stations himself. Spotting the snowball fight preparations down below, he smiled to himself at the sight of one apparently cold Transfiguration Professor. What the man also noticed was the couple of trees she retreated beneath and a vicious plan formed in his mind after his round. Coming in low, he steered the broomstick directly over the trees and gunned his way barely a foot above the treetops. As his feet brushed against the snowy pillows, the white mass briskly cascaded to the ground underneath. With a self-satisfied smirk, he made a sharp turn, landing on the path further away and sent the broom back to his office. There had been a brief moment when Brock considered not appearing at all and waiting for the furious Scare to find him, and boy was that an enticing idea, but this time as it often happened Brock decided vexing her in person could prove to be more entertaining. So far he was on the right track as he made his way, hands stuck casually into the pockets of his overcoat, to the appointed referee. "So, what did I miss?" he announced brightly as if he didn't have anything to do with the earlier incident. It was difficult to stifle the twitching of his lips when he got a closer look. "Looking a bit cold, Professor?" How long had it been since breakfast? Because pissing this woman off certainly became to seem as far too distant a memory for his liking. |
![]() " Brock Baker allows the Chuck Norris meme to exist." <3 Eme | |
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| Opal Martin | Dec 10 2012, 10:17:48 PM Post #28 |
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Opal squealed as she looked over the snow bank and found.....Professors Hicks and Baker. Professor Hicks was alright, of course- Opal was fairly good at transfiguration and she had genuinely liked the class, even if she tried to stay in the back row, somewhat invisible. Professor Baker, on the other hand..... To put it simply, he scared the living daylights out of her. And she would have used a stronger word if she wasn't so against swearing, even in her own head. Ok, maybe it wasn't just him who scared the living daylights out of her- the subject contributed quite a bit. She wasn't nearly as good in DADA as she was Charms and Transfiguration, and other such classes- DADA required confidence, Opal had none, though she managed to score fairly good grades in the class, it was just harder. Professor Baker was a brilliant teacher, what scared her was having his lovely insults trained at her. Silly fear, she knew. It was irrational. That honestly didn't help her much. 'But anyway,' Opal told herself. 'Doesn't matter- he's just your teacher. Now back to the war!' Giddy on excitement, Opal grabbed a snowball and decided to follow Ana's earlier suggestion. It was just a snowball, for crying out loud. A perfect round beauty, too- the perfect one to learn on! She took careful aim for a 4th year and threw. Unfortunately, her aim really, really stunk. "You have got to be kidding me," she muttered to herself, skin paling as she watched the snowball fly. An infant could tell that it wasn't heading toward the 4th year. Nope, much worse. It was heading toward the two professors. Opal's heart pounded in her chest, and time seemed to slow down. "W-Watch Out-t!" she yelled helplessly. She wasn't sure if they could see it. 'Stupid, stupid Opal! What the heck were you thinking! I am never, ever throwing a ball again!' Another thought crossed her mind as the patented Opal Martin snowball drew ever closer to it's target. 'I am so dead MEAT!' |
![]() Thanks Montana! Opal Martin/ Plot Annette Johnson/Plot | |
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| Professor Halcyon Hicks | Dec 11 2012, 12:05:07 AM Post #29 |
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Transfiguration Professor
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The fight seemed to be going well enough. She hadn't needed to assert her authority more than a few times. The game seemed to be flowing continuously. The kids had taken the rules and ran with them, she didn't mind. As long as they were having a good time of it. It wasn't happening for any other reason, as far as she knew. This was probably the only reason she'd allowed the game to continue for so long. It certainly wasn't because she enjoyed the cold. It was probably about the time she was debating casting a spell to warm herself up that she was suddenly and quite intrusively covered in snow. Halcyon yelped and flinched in closer to the tree, it didn't spare her any of the downfall, but at least she didn't fall over. Annoyance replaced shock almost immediately as she pulled out her wand. A quick flick had the heap of snow hovering in the air and she glanced around for the asshole who'd thought covering her in cold was a good idea. Her eyes narrowed as Brock approached. Of course Brock was approaching. Who else would knock snow all over her? Didn't he look right damn pleased with himself. As he should, the snow she had pulled had come only from the ground, she was still covered in the terrible substance. Halle was positioned as such that he probably hadn't noticed the great bout of snow her magic was levitating, perhaps why he still looked so smug. "Why don't you come warm me up, sweetie?" Not said, of course, at any sort of volume the students could hear. There hadn't been a lot of thought behind what she said, she only really wanted to share how cold she was, and it was not like he needed to be enticed closer for her spell to hit. The snow shot towards the man, seemingly driven by the need to wipe that annoying smile right off his kisser. The Professor was not given an opportunity to see if her retaliation hit its target. A shocked cry from a student pulled her attention away from the head of MLE. A snowball, seemingly coming right towards her, was the next step in a previously uneventful few minutes. The woman might have released a swear. More snow. Not that it mattered at this point. She was already ice cold. What was a little more snow? Halcyon had not seen who had thrown the snowball. It was instinctual to attempt to dodge the incoming ball of doom and it was this instinct that seemed to over ride everything else. Grace, unfortunately, did not see fit to visit her twice. The woman tripped in her hurry to avoid the incoming projectile and probably made her situation worse, ten times over. A snow ball was probably infinitely better than falling into a large heap of it. Anything was better than coming into contact with Brock and using him as a barrier between yourself and the ground. It all happened a little too fast. Part of her had decided dodging was a good idea, the other had decided against... Her uncovered hands had somehow found their way onto Brock's chest. The momentum had them sprawling across the ground in seconds. This wasn't really what she'd had in mind, on asking him to warm her up, but... Halcyon laughed, when the initial shock had worn off. It was way too familiar not to. One hand was still propped against his chest, her elbow against his stomach, the other was buried deep into the snow. Their legs were such a right mess she didn't want to think about who's belonged to who. Everything about them was close. The woman allowed a smug little smile to cross her features, wanting him to know full well what was going to happen and that he had no chance of stopping it; Vengeance! Sweet, sweet vengeance. A snow filled hand was raised and she happily acquainted it with his face. No more than a minute could have passed between all this. But getting up, sooner rather than later, would be prudent. This could only end badly. |
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| Opal Martin | Dec 11 2012, 01:04:08 AM Post #30 |
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"O-Oh G-God, O-Oh God-d, O-Oh M-my G-G-God-d-d!" Opal's sentence fluency almost completely deteriorated, and the British accent creeping back into her voice wasn't helping matters much. She was flustered. And when Opal got flustered, Opal got really hard to understand. Another reason why DADA scared the living.....erm, pixies out of her. She couldn't believe she had been so stupid! She was such an idiot! She was dead meat! Was she crazy? You simply did not aim for professors during a snowball fight unless they specifically wanted you to, and even then it was iffy. Visions of possible detentions or, even worse, scoldings ran through her head. "I-I just-t hit-t.....I-I j-just hit Professor H-Hicks w-with a-a-a snow-snowball!" she realized. She wondered if she should go apologize to her Professors- the sooner the better. She really hadn't meant to hit Professor Hicks at all! The fourth year with that smug grin on his face; that's what was supposed to be her target. So much for not looking spastic- she'd just embarrassed herself in front of half the school! "I-I'm-m j-just-t going-g to....uh....going-g to g-go apologize....then c-crawl in-into a h-hole," She said quietly- loud enough so Freya, Ray, Ana, and Ginny would understand her, but barely. Opal's cheeks were flushed red with embarrassment. Without waiting for such a silly thing like replies- why would anybody, except possibly Freya (but best friends didn't count- they always did that) want to try to stop her? She was the resident crazy anyway. It was only on her way through the walk of shame that she finally noticed her arm was bleeding. Dang it! She clasped a hand over it, and vowed to put a bandage on it later- she hated the hospital wing. She just hoped the Professors wouldn't notice- it looked like her sleeve around the cut was soaked in blood. Finally, she approached the Professors and hung her head down. "P-P-Professor.....P-P-Professor," She paused to breathe- apologizing did no good if no one could understand! "P-Professor H-Hicks?" That was better. "I-I a-am t-t-terribly.....uh....s-sorry f-for the s-snowball. I-It-t w-wasn't m-meant f-for you, r-r-really!" . Opal looked pale, and squeezed the fist she wasn't using to sort of block the cut in threes- what she did when she was nervous. 'One, Two, Three.....One, Two, Three....I am dead meat......" |
![]() Thanks Montana! Opal Martin/ Plot Annette Johnson/Plot | |
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| Brock Baker | Dec 11 2012, 02:50:51 PM Post #31 |
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Auror | DADA Teacher | Head of MLE
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Seriously. Next time he'd need to remember to bring a camera to capture such precious moments as this one. Possibly even set up an indestructible collage of it in her office as a reminder. To her credit, Scarecrow did rather well at trying not to look angry, and it wasn't at all fair to experience the surge of warmth her words brought about. Well, who was he to argue with such a request? Fortunately, there was enough sense in his brain to at least momentarily drive out the first straightforward solution it came up with, but he wasn't about to reassure her. The wolfish smile hopefully let her know about the nature of his initial idea as he spoke up in a similarly private fashion. "Since you asked so nicely..." But, obviously, he wasn't the only piece on the board with ulterior motives and the sole hunch saving him from the onslaught of snow was his half-hearted expectation of a payoff. Baker's wand left his pocket to rise in a blink, bringing the snowy mass to a sudden halt before him. She'd have to try better than that to get back to him; though, he had no say but to appreciate her choice of deception. The only problem with his defence was that Brock couldn't see what Scare was doing for a moment, and just as he lifted the load above his head, a blur of bespectacled fabric propelled straight into his chest. The man's attempt at taking a step back to steady them both conspired against him when the sole of his boot slipped on the icy ground beneath the white blanket. Before he knew it, his back thudded into the snow with a foreign weight pressing from above. It only took a second and a sound of her laughter for him to identify the tangled mass atop, but the Auror wasn't given enough time to process all the information as the looming heap of snow finally collapsed upon them. Bringing up a hand to brush the snow off their heads, a chuckle stumbled up Brock's throat only to die on his lips at the look on Scare's face; and he was fairly certain it wasn't fear that made him want to squirm as he did. The man had barely enough presence of mind to close his grinning mouth and shut his eyes just as they were met with the frosty assault. That was familiar, though he did rather prefer mud. Realizing full well her revenge wouldn't stop here he resorted to the only reasonable counteraction applicable - wrapping his arms around the woman's frame to trap her hands between them, and rolled them both over in a quest to regain control. On later evaluation, it might not have been such a reasonable choice of action after all. Their struggle partially cleared their white camouflage, revealing the pair of professors to the world once more. Yet, Brock seemed to remain under the impression there were only the two of them in the neighbourhood. Craning his neck as far as physically possible, which was not nearly enough to negate their closeness, he gazed down on her face victoriously. "You... have been a very bad girl this year." His voice was hushed, but breathing quickened due to the exertion; or so he preferred to believe. Brock hummed in contemplation. "Whatever shall I do about it?" The sound of a nearing voice was finally registered in his increasingly distracted brain and Baker scowled at the not entirely welcome interruption, glancing up to sight the feet of an approaching student. That was about enough of a hint he needed to remember they, in fact, weren't alone and that to the onlookers their situation might not seem as innocent as it really was. Right. Clearing his throat, more for his own sake than Scare's, the man sent her a last look of mock disappointment, perhaps even suggesting she wouldn't get off the hook so easily, before extracting his arms from beneath her and bringing himself up to his full height. Baker's head was cocked to the side and hands crossed on his chest, his overbearing stance not reaching its full potential with the fluff of snow adorning his head and the tops of his shoulders, not to mention the white dusting all over his clothes. "Never told me you already had a kid, Scare," the man announced with mild amusement, eyes shifting from the stuttering girl to his fellow professor. "Seems to have inherited your striking deftness, too," he remarked as an aside to the woman upon noticing the blood on the intruder's sleeve, before addressing the girl directly. "How the hell did you manage to do that, Clumsy? Aspiring to etch your name into history as the first human to ever get a snow-cut?" His voice didn't carry any hostile undertones about it, but neither was it anywhere close to amicable. As usual, Brock remembered spotting the student's face in his classes but she hadn't been noticeable enough for him to give her any thought, let alone grant the girl a nickname until now. If she had been any good at DADA, Brock was fairly sure he'd at least know which house she was in. As to what she was stammering about, it did take him a while to piece together the meaning behind it, as he hadn't actually seen the cause of their little, erm, accident. Edited by Brock Baker, Dec 11 2012, 03:31:36 PM.
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![]() " Brock Baker allows the Chuck Norris meme to exist." <3 Eme | |
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| Opal Martin | Dec 11 2012, 05:39:15 PM Post #32 |
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Oh God! Was it just her inability to pick up on sarcasm? Or did he actually think that she was Professor Hick's daughter? She was good at transfiguration, that was true, barely better than her performance in Charms, which was excellent. But really? She and Professor Hicks looked nothing alike! Not that she was ranting at all. It was a surprise- and kind of a complement- to be compared to her favorite professor....well, most admired professor. But it was kind of wrong. "O-Oh n-no, Professor Baker. I'm-m n-not.....I-I mean-n......I-I'm a-a muggleborn," she explained, then blushed. She'd been unable to keep the slightly proud yet embarrassed tone out of her voice. "O-Opal M-Martin." She tried to explain the cut, but found she couldn't exactly remember when she got it. She'd been having more fun than she'd had in years. She did, however, have a suspicion. "I-It wasn't-t o-on s-snow. I-I think-k I-I c-cut i-it on-n one o-of the b-branches....um....I-I used-d them a-as a s-skeleton o-on our f-fort. I-I d-didn't r-really n-notice until now," Edited by Opal Martin, Dec 11 2012, 05:41:21 PM.
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![]() Thanks Montana! Opal Martin/ Plot Annette Johnson/Plot | |
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| Professor Halcyon Hicks | Dec 12 2012, 08:19:10 PM Post #33 |
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Transfiguration Professor
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Well, she had been planning on pulling herself off the man upon exacting her revenge. Brock apparently had other ideas. The snow seemed to flutter about crazily as their positions were reversed. Halcyon hadn't had much of a chance to struggle against the man, nor would she have been able to deter him had she the opportunity. Her breath was all but lost to her as he grinned victoriously down upon her, like he'd just won some incredible battle. He looked extra silly with the bits of snow on his face that had yet to melt. Had her hands not been pinned against his chest she would have probably tucked some snow into his shirt and made a snide comment. In those moments she had honestly forgotten any other circumstance surrounding them. It was an interesting sort of moment for them, it bursted with a sort of happiness that made everything else about them seem... worth it? Halle had no idea the extent of her feelings for this particular man but it would be very hard to find a replacement and not simply because finding someone so crude was a chore. Maybe impossible? This unusual feeling made what was said next all the more hard to resist. She suddenly wasn't quite so cold, leastwise. "I think-" Her thought, whatever it might have been, was cut short by a student's voice. Reality came jumping back towards her with an incredible force. Shitshitshit. Her face got distinctively redder. Luckily the cold would hide her embarrassment. A few moments of panic, in which she desperately wondered how quickly she'd lose her job, and Brock was clearing his throat and removing himself from her. Suave. It took her a little longer to gather her bearings and stand, which had absolutely nothing to do with the look he bestowed upon her. The Professor followed suit as quickly as possible, snatching her wand, which had been dropped in her mad scramble, and standing. It appeared the Gryffindor had come to apologize. Brock, of course, was a lot quicker to respond than she and then she was so flabbergasted at the suggestion she was a bit at a loss on how to tell him off. (Which, in retrospect, was probably a good thing. He was head of MLE and she'd done just about enough yelling at him in front of students.) Opal was in her seventh year, for Chrissake. (Because that was the ONLY thing wrong about his suggestion.) Halcyon would have brushed aside the apology, had she been given a chance to, she certainly didn't expect one. It was a little strange, being addressed in such a way. Most of her students knew her as a giant push over. Laughing here, would be a bad idea. She knew what it was like, to be so nervous you couldn't help but stutter and having people laugh at you only made matters worse. The situation was a little funny though, wasn't it? Maybe she was just nervous. Opal, luckily, seemed far too embarrassed to comment upon the state she'd found two of her Professor's in. Her hand reflexively started brushing off snow, her glasses were ridiculously askew as she tried to determine how best to save the poor girl from further embarrassment. (As she was desperately trying to explain that she hadn't actually been injured by a snowball.) Halle directed her wand towards Opal's arm. An encouraging, warm (not at all indicative of her own body temperature), sort of smile followed, "Can I have a look at that?" The Professor interjected, as sweetly as possible whilst elbowing the auror in he ribs. It was generally a good idea to ask before you cast magic at someone. As much as she would have preferred being left alone to vent out her embarrassment, a student's safety came first. Halle was fairly certain she could fix whatever was bleeding, she had a decent medical knowledge. Brock could cool off for a bit. It did take a lot out of her not to suggest he go dunk his head in a snow bank. Halcyon had never had much of an opportunity to directly talk with Opal, she'd only been her instructor these past few months. She'd always done well enough in Transfiguration that she hadn't needed to be pulled aside and was so quiet in class the Professor hadn't even realized she had a stutter. Did that make her a bad teacher? Especially considering the fact that she'd been in a similar position at that age. Certainly she could help? Who was she kidding? Edited by Professor Halcyon Hicks, Dec 13 2012, 09:32:16 AM.
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| Opal Martin | Dec 13 2012, 01:00:30 AM Post #34 |
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Shy Gryffindor Artist
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Opal shrugged. It wasn't as if she was going to refuse Professor Hicks- it wasn't like her Transfiguration professor was going to spray a bunch of salt into it. More than likely, Opal reasoned, she was just going to heal the cut. Looking down at the robe, Opal realized that the "cut" she had tried to hide from her professors was a lot worse than it had looked earlier. If it was the branch (which was the most likely possibility), she hadn't noticed that said branch had torn the fabric in a strait line, and made a slightly deep cut that drew quite a bit of blood. For a moment, she hoped she didn't get in on the snowballs. She had a hard enough time making friends- she didn't need this breakthrough encounter to go this badly. Oh God, Opal just wanted to crawl in a hole. Carefully, she lifted her hand off the cut and extended it slightly towards Professor Hicks, carefully placing a foot just slightly behind her other, giving her a split second advantage to bolt if..... What the heck was she doing? This was Professor Hicks, not some rude Slytherin 6th year that claimed he knew how to heal! 'Alright Opal. Foot back where it was. There you go. You trust Professor Hicks, don't you? She's just your transfiguration professor- seriously, it's not like she's going to do anything crazy. But she might if you don't stop being a freak!' With every passing second, her face was growing slightly more red. Was this what it was like when she was afraid of Professor Baker? Oh yeah, this was like the time when her boggert had actually turned into the DADA professor. In front of the Slytherins. She'd never felt so embarrassed in her life. Well, maybe the time her pants had dropped in front of a good handful of high ranking members in the US army, showing her Heart be-speckled undies. But that was another story entirely. She quickly pushed her glasses back onto her nose with her free hand- the candy-red frames were starting to slip into what Opal referred to as "librarian position"- and pulled the piece of bang that wouldn't stay back in her braid behind her ear. "N-No problem, P-Professor," . She scowled. If her accent had ever sounded so fake...... She didn't use an accent during spells, it messed it up. And usually she could say the spell softly enough that she wouldn't stutter. Transfiguration was more about visualization anyway. But she stayed quiet enough in class that most students (Freya excluded, like most things) didn't know she was faking the accent. The stutter, on the other hand, was just too apparent. But back to the case at hand. Her Mom was from Arizona. Her Dad was from Minnesota. To say that anyone even kinda had a natural British accent would be lying. No one used it around the house. Henry and Eirin didn't use it outside the house, it was just Opal and her crazy desire to fit in. Granted, Henry lived in New York, but that really didn't matter. And now she was rambling in her head again. And over analyzing it again. But she actually wanted to make a good impression on Professor Hicks. That chance had kind of been wasted a long time ago on Professor Brock- maybe because she stuttered on the very first word of the very first spell he taught and accidentally set fire to the table- but she admired Professor Hicks. Opal wanted to be.....an artist. She thought she was pretty good. She could set up something in Hogsmead and make portraits, if she could just figure out how to make them move. But her parents would say it wasn't practical. Opal wished, as her second choice, she could be a Transfiguration Professor. It just wasn't possible. Not with her shyness, but a girl could dream. |
![]() Thanks Montana! Opal Martin/ Plot Annette Johnson/Plot | |
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| Brock Baker | Dec 13 2012, 01:06:27 PM Post #35 |
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Auror | DADA Teacher | Head of MLE
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Not knowing what Scare's sentence would have been annoyed Brock to no end, and judging from her secrecy at breakfast and in a few other instances, he was fairly sure it would be nigh impossible to ply that thought out of her. At least with the restriction of certain means of persuasion. And no, he wasn't about to come up with brilliant schemes only to inadvertently bring them both teetering on the edge of propriety - mind you, his concept of the word was somewhat askew in comparison to general public. Shovelling the frustration onto the towering stockpile labelled with her name, Brock did his best to remain level-headed. Surely, there would be an option to... what was it even they had just been doing? ... to have some more fun at her expense whilst avoiding the contact wrestling next time. Bringing up the slightly nippy palm of his left hand, Brock clasped it to his face as though to rub down his light stubble, while in fact he was trying to hide how entertained he was by the two females swallowing his hook. The following explanation, or at least an attempt at it, had Baker dipping his chin and regarding the student from beneath his heavy eyebrows with apparent incredulity. He wasn't a nurse, and frankly didn't care about petty injuries unless they were caused deliberately by other students. Naturally, he wouldn't let her bleed to death, but as long as his conscientious sidekick was there he felt no need to worry about that. The man's impending retort came out as a sudden unintelligible gasp with Scare's punishing elbow. Swiping a hand over his slighted chest, he glared at the offender wryly. In fact, however, Brock was glad to have someone to deal with this stuff close by. Although able to heal such a wound himself, to some degree at least, he was much more comfortable breaking and burning things rather than fixing them. Not to mention his exceptionally compassionate dispositions. Stashing his fists back into the warmth of his pockets, Brock couldn't be bothered by the layer of snow on his person and instead chose to observe how Scare's first aid would work out. The curve of his lips twitched at the volume of Clumsy's body languages, apparently distrusting her professor. "Ready to bolt," he remarked indifferently before quirking a brow Scare's way, "You really get that effect on everyone, don't you?" Being helpful, as always, he decided to alleviate the student's fears. "Don't worry, darling. Any limbs fall off we can stitch back on." The exaggerated reassurance in his voice giving the haughtiness of his statement just the right nudge. With a complete lack of subtlety, he sidestepped away from the Ravenclaw Head of House to avoid further physical abuse. Not that he really minded, at all, which was kind of the problem. |
![]() " Brock Baker allows the Chuck Norris meme to exist." <3 Eme | |
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| Professor Halcyon Hicks | Dec 13 2012, 01:41:26 PM Post #36 |
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Transfiguration Professor
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Hmm, that was oddly satisfying. Perhaps she was getting a little too familiar with the man that she was not only able to anticipate a witty retort but counter it too. It seemed her abusive behaviour to a man of superior ranking was making Opal skittish, the Professor immediately regretted offering to help. Both eyebrows rose curiously, as though trying to determining if the Gryffindor was sure she was comfortable getting healed by her Professor. "I-I could take you to the Hospital Wing, if you prefer." Was that the cold? Or how uncomfortable she felt over the situation finally showing through? It was even more shocking being regarded with fear. Had she really changed that much? It was probably silly to offer to take the girl to the Hospital Wing, she was old enough to know what was best for her. Right? Halcyon had the strangest feeling that if she weren't to heal Opal or take her to a place she could get healed the girl would end up passing out from blood loss. Opal's worded consent came a few moments later, however. She seemed less likely to run away and Halle tried another smile. Maybe she was just really bad at looking sincere? Who knew. Brock seemed determined to destroy any tentative balance the girl had discovered and Halcyon was quick to retort. "Funny, I don't see any limbs missing from you." The Professor remarked, her head tilted back to the man and she glanced down curiously, as though suggesting what might have been lost. It happened without much thought. He'd stepped out of range and she'd needed to retaliate in some way. A way that didn't involve magic, anyway. Fat lot of good hexing a bout of snow after him would do anyway. Whoops. Well, it wasn't like Opal could see where she glanced, right? "Don't mind him, he thinks he's terribly clever." Her brow furrowed slightly. Her tone was shockingly dismissive as she gave the girl's cut a good once over. "Episkey." The cut while fairly deep was clean, the branch, if that had been what cut her, hadn't left anything in the wound... which made her job easier. Two spells later had the blood removed and her clothing stitched back up. "I th-think Lunch'll be starting soon, if you care to head inside." The Professor finished, stepping away from the Gryffindor and glancing tentatively at the now dying snow fight. A bunch of students had already started to head in towards the castle, so she would have to rally the rest of them. Or at least tell them how long they'd been out in the cold. Maybe then, she could leave and spend some time with her parents. Her wand was pointed at her throat a few minutes later and a similar announcement was made; "If everyone could head inside, please, lunch will be starting soon." The charm was removed and she cleared her throat slightly. And I can't leave you all outside unsupervised... That, of course, she was too nice to voice but the thought was still there and perhaps it had been a little apparent in the tone her announcement had taken. |
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| Opal Martin | Dec 13 2012, 09:07:41 PM Post #37 |
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Shy Gryffindor Artist
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'Not again,' Opal thought to herself. She thought the slight shift in her foot hadn't been that obvious. Honestly, it was just because last time she tried to have a cut healed the magical way she got an arm full of salt for her troubles. She really liked Professor Hicks. Opal smiled at the now-healed arm. Seven years later, and the wizarding world still amazed her. "Th-thank you, P-Professor Hicks. I-I was getting-g pretty h-hungry, a-anyway," Waving her goodbye she started to turn away, but stopped a moment. She wondered, silently, if Professor Hicks knew anything about accidental magic in the same household as a trained witch. Or Professor Baker. They probably did, she was just too nervous to ask. But she had to ask someone. She knew most muggleborn witches were fine till eleven, but Eirin was....on a short fuse. Opal had three close calls this summer. If it was her, then she needed to figure out how to fix it. But if it was Eirin.....if she was right, and Eirin was a witch.....Opal had no idea what to do. Was there some sort of primary school to teach little witches not to fire off? An exercise to help them control accidental magic when angry? "P-Professor?" she asked hesitantly. "M-Maybe we could-d t-talk? S-sometime after c-class, or d-during the d-day? I.....I have s-something r-really important-t, I-I was h-hoping you'd-d...um....h-have s-some advice," |
![]() Thanks Montana! Opal Martin/ Plot Annette Johnson/Plot | |
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| Brock Baker | Dec 14 2012, 07:49:37 PM Post #38 |
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Auror | DADA Teacher | Head of MLE
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The slight stammer from his colleague made Brock regard her with chaffing curiously, but the man surprisingly had enough decency not to flaunt his rehabilitative talents before a student. He still felt particularly proud about his achievement, and who knew, maybe if he got sacked after the war, he could make a living on curing this condition globally. Not that he'd ever come across such a riveting patient again; and that way of thinking about Hiccups needed to be stopped, now. Turning to watch the fight instead, he glimpsed one of their Hufflepuff stalkers with her snowball-filled hand in midair staring flagrantly in their direction, only to briskly look away upon being caught and trying to hide behind a snow wall. The Professor snorted and shook his head, wondering whether he'd see some new inspiration in the friendfic the Iron Man inconspicuously worked on. A set of brows nearly hit his hairline at Scare's comment, and Brock barely caught his sinking jaw from becoming too apparent. It soon set back into one of his trademark smirks as he noted, "Maybe you just really like my limbs." Once more breaching a topic he wouldn't mind letting her contemplate longer, but the company was a bit of a turn off for his liking. The Auror couldn't help a slight smile when her insult reached his ears, but decided it would be better not to interfere and wait for the girl to be sent on her merry way. He had to, after all, make use of those last few minutes before Scare's departure to his best advantage. That tactic seemed to work out pretty well when the student turned to leave. Brock reclaimed the vacant place by Scare's side, innocuously brushing his arm against hers. But before he had a chance to utter a word, Clumsy changed her mind. The man failed completely at suppressing the roll of his eyes. What he did manage to suppress was saying something along the lines of 'yes, she will, now scram', though it was still written all over his face before he'd schooled that look as well. Baker glanced at Scare with mild annoyance at getting interrupted, again, but then chose to take matters into his own hands and do what he normally would. Go straight to the point. "Well, spit it out if it's so bloody important." There was no room for argument in his voice, as he didn't feel like hanging around for the two stutterers to work it out between themselves. As evidenced earlier, Hiccups didn't exactly seem to be herself around the girl. Well, at least not as herself as he got to know her - which on the second thought probably wasn't such a terrible prospect. Brock, the incarnation of altruism, was in fact helping by forcing them to skip all the awkwardness. |
![]() " Brock Baker allows the Chuck Norris meme to exist." <3 Eme | |
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| Opal Martin | Dec 14 2012, 09:00:44 PM Post #39 |
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Shy Gryffindor Artist
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With the tone of his voice, she mentally braced herself- Eirin's magic, if she had it, as Opal suspected, and possibly quite a few other things hung in the balance if she didn't ask. But somehow she was wondering if Professor Baker, no matter weather he was a professor and how important it was, would laugh at the question. It wasn't funny. It was really serious. It was important. She was just scared of Professor Baker. Not unusual, she was scared of her last DADA professor. She had to rush it out. It was too important to say, too important to be understood. And that was what gave her the final push. "D-Do you know a-anything a-about accidental m-magic? N-not j-just in g-general....uh.....b-but, d-do you know h-how t-to t-tell if someone i-is a w-witch before they get-t their l-letter? 'I shouldn't of asked,' she thought to herself. 'I should have gone to another teacher, or tried to see if I could catch Professor Hicks after class. Without Professor Baker,' But she knew- if this was something either of them could control, they needed to know. As soon as possible. She just hoped Professor Baker would understand. It was her little sister; her responsibility. Especially since Henry was a muggle. |
![]() Thanks Montana! Opal Martin/ Plot Annette Johnson/Plot | |
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| Professor Halcyon Hicks | Dec 15 2012, 08:36:35 PM Post #40 |
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Transfiguration Professor
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Halle, turned to Brock expectantly, he had yet to leave; certainly a head of M.L.E had better things to do than hang around a stuffy old transfiguration professor. Her bespectacled gaze flicked back to Opal when she realized the girl had remained... though not before seeing her co-worker's look of annoyance. Brock snapped out a response before Halcyon had had a chance to process the request. Advice? Honestly? The Head of House was going to tell him off for stepping into her personal affairs, what a joke, but Opal seemed content spitting the question out in front of the man. Thankfully it hadn't been something of a more personal nature. The woman shot a look at the man that clearly suggested he go be himself elsewhere. Brock had a way of putting people on edge and he had no right to loom over this particular conversation. "If you need something, Professor Baker, I'll be stopping at my office before I leave." Not checking to see if her suggestion was heeded she motioned towards the castle, to suggest they start heading inside. Surely the topic could be covered before the reached the Great Hall. A final glance at the arena to check if anyone lingered before leading Opal towards the castle, "I think there's a list somewhere." The Professor remarked, after a small moment of thought on just how much of the magical processes behind needed to be explained. It seemed more likely she was inquiring because of a general interest, perhaps family related, than an interest in learning the magic behind. Of course they had ways of telling the difference been magical and non magical students. It wasn't like they sent letters to everyone and those who thought their children magical sent them forward. "It'll have all the magical births in the UK to date." Or was the range wider? She couldn't recall. A tiny hint of a smile before she encouraged the Gryffindor to tell her why the topic needed to be so urgently discussed, "Can I ask why you're curious?" Edited by Professor Halcyon Hicks, Dec 15 2012, 08:37:22 PM.
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