Rising from her place at the faculty table and clearing her throat loudly in a meaningful manner, Melvina lifts her hands motions for the room to quiet. The hall is lavishly decorated in blue and silver, as seems the tradition for the current house points holder. “Hello, dear students of Hogwarts term 1926 to 1927. Or, more aptly, I should say, goodbye. What a year it has been! Yes, indeed. But, before we travel much further done this ceremonial road designed to fill our bellies, hearts, and minds until our next fine year of learning, it is my great honor of announcing to you all we have with us a special guest, joining us for a good-will mission of sorts. If you will please direct your attention, and warmly welcome…” withdrawing her long wand from the sleeve of her emerald green robes, Melvina gives the length of cherry wood a dramatic flick. The huge double doors at the rear of the hall swings open slowly, their loud creak filling the room.

(Ravenclaw) Clavicle Gravely turns curiously to look at the doors with wide eyes. Surely this isn’t normal procedure. He looks around to see if any other students have a clue as to what she’s doing.

(Ravenclaw) The prefect has been until now sitting quietly with Joseph Wexler at her side, looking as if the two of them have been sharing a bit of a secret until the Headmistress has begun speaking. Without another word, Noémie leans out to see who’s joining the lot of them at the feast, biting her lip a bit. Is it someone important? “Who do you think it could be this late in the year?” she asks those close to her and continues leaning out so as to better see the doors at the end of the room.

As the doors swing open to allow a view into the entrance hall, it is Sylvie Winters-Geroff, Minister for Magic, who is revealed standing behind them. Her eyes flit over the tables of students quickly, head not turning, before she takes her first steps into the room. From there it is a straight walk up the middle aisle, somewhat formal dark robes swishing slightly as they hang around her, until she has joined Melvina at the front of the hall. When she reaches it she gives a brief nod of greating to Melvina. “Thank you, Headmistress.”

(Ravenclaw) Riley Markham lofts a brow, shifting his gaze in the direction of the pointed wand — sitting far enough away from Noémie and Joseph that he didn’t feel the need to glare daggers at them, yet near enough to stay in earshot. “Knowing Gran, God only knows,” he murmurs in response to Noémie’s query, though as Sylvie Winters-Geroff strides in, Riley‘s eyes do appreciably widen.

(Ravenclaw) Clavicle says, “Hey, that’s the minister isn’t it? But why would she be here?” he looks down at Riley as if he would know. “What did you do this year?” he asks with a grin on his face. “That was a Joke Riley.. I promise.”"

(Ravenclaw) “Well, point taken,” Noémie responds to Riley with a chuckle, grinning at her cousin with a shrug. As the Minister walks in, however, Noémie sits up and uncrosses her legs, trying to look as responsible as one might be able to on a mere glance. She watches with interest as the woman walks up to the front of the room, and the prefect straightens her pointed hat carefully, trying not to stare too gape-mouthed. She’s seen the Minister twice this year now!

Melvina Prichard returns the nod with one of her own, her lips painted with a quiet, half-amused grin that is pertepually a part of her character. Perhaps more so now than on average. She did so enjoy the dramatics. “Naturally, Minister,” she replies, before finishing her introduction to the crowd. “Sylvie Winters-Geroff, Minister for Magic.” She offers some time for the stunned silence and whatever applauses might creep up out of the shock, before pushing on. “The Minister’s time is short, and she has a very special purpose for visiting us today, so I will turn the floor, and my pedistal, over to her. Minister?” Stepping away from the podium from which Melvina usually stands behind, she motions for Sylvie to take it, before returning to her seat.

(Ravenclaw) Kassandra Verkooyen stretches to be able to observe the opening door and immediately straightens as she catches a first glimpse of the Minister. “Oh, Mrs. Winters-Geroff…” she whispers somewhat to herself and smiles as she had never been able to meet her before.

“Thank you, again.” As Melvina takes her seat, Sylvie turns to fully face the students, pausing a moment as she looks over them again before she starts speaking. It’s been a few years since she’s been in this exact position, after all, though many of the older students are still familiar. “I am here today to honor two of your peers, two of the wizarding world’s finest citizens, for their great efforts put forth this past year on behalf of one of your professors.” A very quick glance is directed back at Karina. “Miss Eliza Marlowe, Mister Martin Foster, would you please join me?”

With a startled gasp, Eliza Marlowe springs to her feet, unfolding gracefully to her full height despite the fact that her mouth is still hanging open in surprise. It stays open as she exchanges a glance across the room with Martin over the heads of the other students – then looks back to the Minister, and then to Karina, and then to the Minister again. Slowly at first, and then faster as the initial shock wears away, Eliza strides down the aisle towards the head table, a slow, incredulous smile beginning to spread across her face.

Sylvie Winters-Geroff offers a brief smile to the Head Boy and Girl as they walk forward, waiting until both have reached the front of the room before she speaks again. “Mister Foster and Miss Marlowe played a crucial role in researching and apprehending Immanual Irving, a man who was working illegally to create and test dangerous potions.” She leave the explanation at that; the news of the trial likely spread even to here. “In doing so, they also cleared the name of Professor Sedgewick, for which I know we are all very grateful.” “For their skill, determination, and bravery in assisting the Ministry in this way, each will be awarded the Order of Merlin First Class.”

“What?” Eliza‘s exclamation carries to every corner of the Great Hall, and her mouth hangs open again for a moment after it is done. She looks swiftly over at Martin, as if to check whether he’s heard the same thing that she has. “Order of – First class?” Eliza repeats, her powerful voice barely a whisper now. And then she looks back at Sylvie, gulps, and straightens up, unfurling her shoulders to stand at attention before the Minister. Another smile starts to edge up the corners of Eliza‘s mouth, smaller, wondering, and proud.

(Ravenclaw) Clavicle Gravely blinks, “That’s the youngest anyone’s ever been given an order I believe. Amazing!”

(Ravenclaw) Kassandra Verkooyen nods at Clavicle, still in disbelief, but delighted of the fact that the Headgirl and Boy already have achieved what others not even can dream about. “Yes, amazing is the right word, I think.” Kassandra smiles.

(Ravenclaw) “I don’t know, I think I’ve heard of them being given to really young people who happened to be in the right place at the right time,” Noémie comments off-hand to those around her before leaning up again to watch the Minister continue on, and see whether the woman will stay around. “My, an Order of Merlin. I don’t know that I’d ever do anything worth getting something like that,” The girl comments to her companion and bites her lip as she continues to watch.

(Ravenclaw) Clavicle says, “Keep going undefeated in seeking and you’ll get a good pro sport though.” Clavicle comments to Noémie. “You’re a killer on a broom.”"

Slight smile back as she watches Eliza and Martin’s reactions, Sylvie waits until the large amounts of cheering have died down again before continuing. When it finally does, she turns to face the Head Boy and Girl, taking a single step toward them to present each with the award and offer a handshake. Alongside this she adds, “Thank you, both, for your services. I’m glad to know there are people such as you, and am sure you will both do well once you leave these walls.” She offers another, larger smile to the two, before turning back to the student body at large. “It has been a pleasure to be here with you today. With no further ado, I turn you back to your Headmistress.”

With a steady hand, Eliza reaches out to accept the award, shaking the Minister’s hand firmly with the other. She stands even taller, if that were possible, and her smile shines forth into a full-force grin as she closes her hand around her Order of Merlin. But Eliza‘s eyes are shining with more than pride – as she withdraws from the handshake, she hastily reaches up to scrub at her eyes with the heel of her hand, swallowing hard even amid her smiles.

Rising from the Faculty table after Eliza and Martin have accepted the rewards, Melvina applauds loudly, after after a few moments, motions for everyone to rise and applaud as well. And with some satisfaction, she notes that the applause is both loud and very sincere. “Thank you, Minister, and congratulations to the Head Boy and Head Girl! Let us praise our fine student leaders by honoring the with the school song!” Giving a great, wordless, hooting cheer, the Headmistress breaks in to a very loud, very happy round of largely off-key song, in hopes that the room follows her lead in good cheer. “Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts, teach us something, please! Whether we be old and bald, or young with scabby knees! Our heads could do with filling, with some interesting stuff! For now they’re bare and full of air, dead flies and bits of fluff! So teach us things worth knowing, bring back what we’ve forgot! Just do your best, we’ll do the rest, and learn until our brains all rot!” And only once the Headmistress-invited standing ovation and song has progressed for several minutes, the Headmistress makes motion for everyone to quiet again. Turning to Sylvie, Martin, and Eliza, Melvina grins, warmly. Obviously quite jovile, even if there is a small mark of seriousness in her eyes. “Miss Marlowe, Mister Foster, please remain there for a moment. Thank you, Minister. I know you have pressing a pressing agenda, but if you could see fit to stay, I’m sure my staff would make room for you at our table. The meals are as lovely still as I’m sure you remember.” The offer made, she looks back to the crowd of students, her rich brown eyes twinkling, “Now, moving right along..”

“Indeed, indeed. Well done, Miss Marlowe, Mister Foster. You have both performed an act and bravery and cunning that speaks well of yourselves and this school. It is with a genuine heart that I, the faculty of Hogwarts School, and your fellow students congratulate you. However,” Melvina notes, the mirth leaving her expression at the note of that last word. The Headmistress’ tone becoming gravely serious. “As prefects, and certainly Head Boy and Head Girl, you of all pairs should know that rules are rules, and are not to be broken lightly, even in the wake of such good tidings or favorable results. Thus, I fear I must make some last moment addendums to our house rankings.”

Stepping back to allow the Headmistress the spotlight along with the two students, Sylvie joins in with the last round of clapping as the room stands up. As the clapping.. and, later, song.. fade off and Melvina resumes her speech, Sylvie apparently accepts the invitation to stay. After all, who would refuse the Hogwarts feast? And the beginning of Melvina’s speech finds her at the Faculty table.

Basking in the glow of applause and praise, Eliza stands at the front of the room, pushing back the tears of joy and pride that threaten to spill out of her shining eyes. She tosses her head back, and lifts her chin higher in a show of strength, struggling to keep her smile from wavering. And then the Headmistress’s next announcement comes – and Eliza‘s expressive face melts into a look of sudden apprehension. She exchanges an entirely different kind of look with Martin now, worried and uncertain.

(Ravenclaw) Kassandra‘s expression fades as the Hufflepuff’s and the Slytherin’s award would automatically mean more points for their houses. “Oh no, we’ll lose our lead in the house points.” she whispers, still admiring, but not really loving the two Headstudents anymore.

“For leaving the school grounds without express permission or escort of myself or one of the school faculity, I find that I must penalize both the Head Boy and Head Girl by twenty points each.” Knowing what an unpopular announcement that will be, especially after such a jolly congratulations, Melvina similar waits and allows that to sink in. Noting those who boo with the same quiet, grave expression.

(Ravenclaw) Clavicle Gravely That’s outrageous.” he frowns. “I mean sure I want us to win, but really, doesn’t that undermine the minister? Your grandmother is one tough woman Riley. Er.. how about YOU come visit ME over holiday. I can train tigers, whip lions, but she scares me.”

(Ravenclaw) Noémie can’t help but look exceptionally pleased as the other houses lose points. “That secures our win,” she comments. “The Quidditch cup and the house cup.” The girl beams at her companion and watches witha bit of a smug expression.

Eliza lifts her chin higher still – not in defiance, but in acceptance. She stands just as straight and tall as ever, even with the burden of losing her House points as one of her last acts as a Hufflepuff – but Eliza still can’t quite bring herself to meet the eyes of her housemates, or Martin.

(Ravenclaw) Clavicle Gravely hmmms and shrugs. “I don’t know, Last year they hit us negative then positive. I think we’d better wait and see.”

Once Melvina has let that reality sink in, that Ravenclaw’s lead had become absolute, the Headmistress continues. Her expression equally as serious and tone just as grave. “However, I would be remiss in following Hogwarts policy if I didn’t then, in turn, reward your fine accomplishments as well.” It’s only then than the tell-tale twinkle in her eyes glimmers as she shifts her gaze toward Martin and Eliza. “With dedication and cunning that exemplifies the core traits of both your houses, Miss Marlowe and Mister Foster, you two alone subdued and helped bring to justice a singularly Dark Wizard, and cleared our dear Professor Sedgewick’s name. For that, I have the great pleasure of awarding you fifty points, each.”

(Ravenclaw) Dolly Faeden briefly looks up, having been tinkering with a clock under the table after the chorus of the school song faded out, “Wha’? Oh, well, smatter with losin’ twenty points when they’ve just got the… firs’ class bits? Right? Not like it’ll change their exams or anythin’ important.” A pause in her chatter as Melvina speaks, “See? No matter, they’ve won, then, so it’s all to rights.” She doesn’t wait for a response but resumes her tinkering, eyebrows coming down in concentration. Who cares about feasts and points when there’s a clock she’s supposed to have fixed to show off to grandfather tomorrow?

(Ravenclaw) “FIFTY?” Noémie respons, gawking open-mouthed. “How completely unfair! They shouldn’t get more points than they lost for that! They broke the rules!” The girl says this rather loudly, and her disappointment is apparent. “{Rotten, no good, awful,}” Noémie mutters in French and concludes with some words that would make a french Sailor blush, looking quite annoyed. “Completely unfair,” is all she can end with in English.

(Ravenclaw) Clavicle Gravely shrugs a bit. “That’s what Riley got last year, and Saphia if I remember right. It fits right with their policy I think. But it ties us Noémie. so we still got a chance for a tie.”

Continuing on, as if not to lose her momentum, Melvina adds in a grand voice, “Further, I award Martin Foster another fifty points efforts that saved the lives of third year Louis Harper and our Professor Rathe while putting himself under great personal risk.” Drawing a deep breath, Melvina grins, quite suddenly, and opens another round of applause, before looking down to Martin and Eliza, nodding that after they have soaked up enough praise, they may return to their tables.

And Eliza‘s grin bursts forth again, spilling over into a laugh of relief and triumph. She reaches over to shake Martin’s hand, and then changes it to an enthusiastic thump on his shoulder. With the momentary anxiety entirely dispelled, Eliza is free to let her joy emerge again, and she strides – no, runs back to the Hufflepuff table to rejoin her housemates for one last time.

(Ravenclaw) Kassandra corrects Clavicle. “No, Slytherin is in front of us…” and as another fifty points are awarded to Martin she sinks in a bit “way in front of us…” her voice fades.

(Ravenclaw) “Nobody asked you,” Noémie responds irritably and it is clear that she is rather inconsolable at the moment. The girl says nothing else, muttering the occasional swear in French as she crosses her arms and her posture fails a bit, hunching over and leaning on the table. “No good Slytherin.” The girl looks quite displeased.

(Ravenclaw) Clavicle says, “Well that certainly killed it then.” he shrugs. “But still Noémie. We beat their quidditch team, and we’ll do so again.” he nods stoically. He looks a touch worried at the captain, “We’ve still the best team.”"

(Ravenclaw) Kara Raine‘s shoulders slump at the latest addition to the points. “Fifty? Each!” Pushing her auburn locks from her face she turns to her fellow first years near by, “That will put Slytherin in the lead…” Sighing deeply, she frowns, her next words quite soft. “Would have been nice to have both cups, ah well.”

(Ravenclaw) Shooting a glare to those who address her directly, Noémie continues to brood at her spot on the table, not looking forward or even applauding, despite the fact that someone’s life has been saved. “Might ‘s well go home now,” she comments and sighs, looking around only once more, mostly to glare at those around her before staring hard at the table in front o fher.

“Our Hogwarts family has endured much this term, and by sheer pluck of our students and faculty, we have emerged from the struggle stronger and shining brighter than we ever have. It is on that note, that I also wish to praise Professor Sedgewick and Professor Rathe,” Melvina continues, after the applauses have died down again. “Professor Sedgewick, of course, endured a grueling assault on her character and soul and perserved as best as one could expect. Professor Rathe showed great strength of character and soul in during the trial of Paul Clairwill, and such fortitude and bravery should be rewarded. Thought it would be unfair for me to award house points, or implore upon our dear visiting Minister to grant medals as were just recieved by our esteemed Head Boy and Head Girl, I believe they are each equally deserving of said regards, and we should all be proud of them, and of there connections to us and this school.” Again, leading a round of applause, Melvina then turns to Astra with a grin brimming with genuine pride, and motions to the blue and bronze decorations lining the room. “I believe we have a new House Champion, do we not? If you would do the honors?”

(Ravenclaw) Clavicle says, “Noémie, we beat their best teams, you did actually, you beat them with your training of our team. You should see this differently. Look at their points?! YOU beat that. You lead our team against theirs and we flattened them. So Noémie.. you can do as much if not more then they can too, because you’ve faced both of them on the field, and beaten them both, you lead us, and you are the best captain Ravenclaw has had in I don’t know how long.” he grins. “So they got these points. Great, Next year we’ll get it, and we know we can cause you’ve beat them once already, we just gotta work harder to get more points is all.” he hmms. “A little luck wouldn’t hurt either.” but he looks at Noémie, “But still, There’s the rub of it, they got lucky and were in some situation, that’s all, next year we’ll get them…but good.”"

Standing up, there is a pause as the small woman reaches into her cloak to retrieve her wand. Looking rather perplexed as her name was mentioned, Astra tries to cover up her discomfort with a tight smile and a muttered, ‘my pleasure.’ Following that there she moves swiftly with a snapping motion of her wrist and wand, the banners flip from Blue and Bronze to Green and Silver changing to display from Ravenclaw to Slytherin colors. Astra‘s smile faded during the loss of points, but now she bestows a very pleased expression upon the Slytherin table as she tucks the wand away and retakes her seat without a word.

(Ravenclaw) “Bugger off!” Noémie says rather loudly. “I know we won the cup.” She glares at him again. “Stop being so… smug,” she tells him and turns away, her arms still crossed as she frowns hard. It is clear she is disappointed and not the least bit resigned to the outcome. “Don’t touch me, Joseph,” the girl snaps as her companion tries to comfort her. “Can’t anyone just let me be unhappy for a little while. Why are you all so happy and smug? We just lost the cup because of that heroic… nonsense!” She hmphs and stares hard at her plate, obviously indignant of anyone who is not as put out as she is.

(Ravenclaw) “Well we prolly beat them all on exams, dinnit we?” pipes up Dolly without looking from her clock, not really paying attention to the proceedings except with her ears. “An’ if you think about it, it’ll be scores on exams that show who’s the best at their subjects and the ‘portant exams show what ye get to do outside of Hogwarts. Unless ye were wantin’ ta play Quid’ for a professional team.” Pause, “Even so ye wouldnae had to win House Cup or faught Dark Wizards or anythin’ ridiculous like that. Just good at flyin’ and passin’ and suchlike.” Tinker, tinker, blather.

“Congratulatuions, Slytherin house! Now, only one more thing to say, before we enjoy –” With her still withdrawn wand, Melvina negligantly flicks it at the direction of the tables, summoning the End of Year Feast for everyone to enjoy. “– the fine food which has been prepared for us. This has been my first year at Hogwarts School, but it has been a fine one. Thank you all for that. When I arived, this was an imposing castle, something I remembered from my youth. A daunting job. But thanks to you all, staff and students alike, I felt welcomed, and now, I can’t help but see this place as my home. For those of you students who will return next year, remember that magic use over the summer is strictly prohibitted, and that next year I hope we can grow together as much as we have this one. For those of you graduating and going out in to the world, we have only had the oppertunity to touch each other’s lives briefly, but I hope you will remember me and this place fondly, as I will remember you. My first graduating class as the luckiest woman in the world, Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Eat well.” And with that, Melvina sits, smiling quietly.

(Ravenclaw) Kara Raine Fiddling with the hem on her robe, Kara glances upward, still quite dejected looking as the Ravenclaw colors are replaced with green and silver. “Quite right Dolly, I am sure that we did. ‘Sides, we still have Noémie, and next year our quidditch team will be better than ever with her leading it. We won the one cup this year, next year will will have both. I’m sure of it.” A smile lifts her face as the food appears, eyes glancing around excitedly, “Now, what to eat first.”

(Ravenclaw) Clavicle Gravely frowns. “I wasn’t being smug. i was trying to raise your spirits. I apologize.” he states formally and turns to watch the proceedings. ”

(Ravenclaw) Clavicle Gravely looks at Riley. He just shrugs and pushes his plate away, not eating at all. “Why would she think I am being smug when all I am doing is trying to make her feel better?” he shakes his head and just waits to be allowed to go, turning away from Noémie for sure and just staring off to the faculty table.

(Ravenclaw) Dolly Faeden looks up as the speech ends and the food arrives and with an audible, “Oh thank ‘eavens,” she stuffs the clock in her bag, finds a plate of something that looks difficult to chew and passes it toward Clavicle while taking a few rolls from another basket herself. “Nonesense not ta eat this feast, unless yer Da’s a good deal better’n mine at cookin’.” Some more food is taken and passed this way and that, and she sets to stuffing her mouth and muddying her brain rather than dealing with the perplexing emotions of older people.

(Ravenclaw) Riley Markham makes a loud hissing sound, somewhat muffled and mollified by Melvina’s genuine words. “Because she’s pissed, Clavy, ’cause we lost, an’ so am I,” Riley responds, curtly. Not so much at his housemate, but largely at the situation. “Bloody rank, is what it is. Holding the lead all year to lose it now. What say you we give Mister Order of Merlin, Dumb Class a good jinxing after this is done?” The shaggy-headed second year says to Noémie, rather quite meaning it.

(Ravenclaw) Clavicle says, “Because no one jinxed you last year when YOU got 50 points did they Markham. So it’s all fine and good for you to break the rules and go off and be a hero, but if someone else does it they deserve a good jinxing eh?” he shakes his head. “Surely you can see there’s a similarity, i would expect you of all people to see that Markham.”"

(Ravenclaw) “{Raising my spirits after we just} lost to stinking Slytherin…” the girl comments, half in French, half in English and sighs, but now tehre is food before her. “Oh, food,” she comments blandly and reaches out to start spooning things onto her plate. The girl’s plate ends up quite full, almost defying that it might all be eaten, but without another comment she begins to eat. “Oh, stuff it, you two,” she tells the boys. “Just eat the food. We’ll just have to work harder next year to get it.” Noémie is clearly in a sour mood as she begins to eat some potatoes rather quickly.

(Ravenclaw) “Honesly! Shut up an’ eat, you lot, ya’r killin’ me appetite,” intones Dolly a bit crossly, though from the heap of food on her plate (and the fact that she’s talking with her mouth partially fully) her appetite is a long way from the grave. She does sit up a little straighter at Noémie saying it, adding, “She’s a Prefect, ye know!” Sassy little firstie today, isn’t she?

(Ravenclaw) Clavicle Gravely just shakes his head. He doesn’t fill up his plate or anything. He begins polishing his flute.

(Ravenclaw) Riley Markham simply shrugs, passing off Noémie’s anger and Clavicle’s reasonableness with the singular act. “Haven’t you heard, Clavy? All’s fair in love and war.” He does reach out to help himself to the same bowl of potatoes that Noémie took copious amounts from, and mutters something about a Boogie-Foot Jinx being just the thing.

(Ravenclaw) Clavicle Gravely just shrugs silently.

Rising from her place at the faculty table and clearing her throat loudly in a meaningful manner, Melvina lifts her hands motions for the room to quiet. The hall is lavishly decorated in blue and silver, as seems the tradition for the current house points holder. “Hello, dear students of Hogwarts term 1926 to 1927. Or, more aptly, I should say, goodbye. What a year it has been! Yes, indeed. But, before we travel much further done this ceremonial road designed to fill our bellies, hearts, and minds until our next fine year of learning, it is my great honor of announcing to you all we have with us a special guest, joining us for a good-will mission of sorts. If you will please direct your attention, and warmly welcome…” withdrawing her long wand from the sleeve of her emerald green robes, Melvina gives the length of cherry wood a dramatic flick. The huge double doors at the rear of the hall swings open slowly, their loud creak filling the room.

(Hufflepuff) Olivia, who has been seated at the table quietly, her eyes perhaps lingering a bit longer on the Slytherin table than they previously did, just turns her attention to the front of the room as Melvina begins her announcement of the feast. A last minute visitor? Who could it be? As many others’ heads do, Olivia‘s turns to look at the doors in the back and she waits to see who it is who is joining them.

(Hufflepuff) Near the head of the Hufflepuff table, Eliza Marlowe looks up from where she is comforting one of her fellow seventh-years. The feast is a bittersweet moment for them, marking the end of their time at Hogwarts, and while the Head Girl herself is managing to maintain an almost cheerful version of her usual broad, crooked grin, one of her housemates has already started sniffling. Eliza pats the other Hufflepuff girl awkwardly on the shoulder, her own smile growing slightly more wobbly as the minutes wear on – until the Headmistress makes her announcement, and Eliza looks quickly towards the door, her eyes sparking with curious interest.

As the doors swing open to allow a view into the entrance hall, it is Sylvie Winters-Geroff, Minister for Magic, who is revealed standing behind them. Her eyes flit over the tables of students quickly, head not turning, before she takes her first steps into the room. From there it is a straight walk up the middle aisle, somewhat formal dark robes swishing slightly as they hang around her, until she has joined Melvina at the front of the hall. When she reaches it she gives a brief nod of greating to Melvina. “Thank you, Headmistress.”

Melvina Prichard returns the nod with one of her own, her lips painted with a quiet, half-amused grin that is pertepually a part of her character. Perhaps more so now than on average. She did so enjoy the dramatics. “Naturally, Minister,” she replies, before finishing her introduction to the crowd. “Sylvie Winters-Geroff, Minister for Magic.” She offers some time for the stunned silence and whatever applauses might creep up out of the shock, before pushing on. “The Minister’s time is short, and she has a very special purpose for visiting us today, so I will turn the floor, and my pedistal, over to her. Minister?” Stepping away from the podium from which Melvina usually stands behind, she motions for Sylvie to take it, before returning to her seat.

(Hufflepuff) “It’s Evan’s mum!” Olivia exclaims quietly to those around her, looking surprised but not quite as in-awe as the other students seem to be doing. She claps quietly for the woman and leans back to watch what the occasion is. “I wonder why she’s here,” the girl murmurs and then quiets down, glancing only momentarily at the Slytherin table again, as if trying to catch Evan’s eye to ask him if he’d known his mother would be coming.

“Thank you, again.” As Melvina takes her seat, Sylvie turns to fully face the students, pausing a moment as she looks over them again before she starts speaking. It’s been a few years since she’s been in this exact position, after all, though many of the older students are still familiar. “I am here today to honor two of your peers, two of the wizarding world’s finest citizens, for their great efforts put forth this past year on behalf of one of your professors.” A very quick glance is directed back at Karina. “Miss Eliza Marlowe, Mister Martin Foster, would you please join me?”

With a startled gasp, Eliza Marlowe springs to her feet, unfolding gracefully to her full height despite the fact that her mouth is still hanging open in surprise. It stays open as she exchanges a glance across the room with Martin over the heads of the other students – then looks back to the Minister, and then to Karina, and then to the Minister again. Slowly at first, and then faster as the initial shock wears away, Eliza strides down the aisle towards the head table, a slow, incredulous smile beginning to spread across her face.

(Hufflepuff) Orion Kari is completely non-plussed by the events of happening about him. In his right hand, he idly twirls a stick of graphite, while staring somewhat idly toward the Gryffindor table with an amused sort of look. Two younger students holding his attention in a way that the Minister for Magic or the Headmistress of Hogwarts School can neighter seem to manage. As a small fuss about a napkin and some hissing whispers pass between the two younger students muffled by distance, Orion almost grins, slyly. Oh, yes. A deceptively coy grin. Oh, his final year at Hogwarts would be ripe, indeed.

(Hufflepuff) Glancing around the table momentarily, trying not to gasp too loudly before she takes notice of Orion. “Oh, do– d’you draw? Oh, my…” she comments quietly, looking in awe as she glances to see the older boy’s drawing. Her face twinges pink as she realizes she’s taken a look without asking and she turns her attention to the front of the room again. “Sorry,” she whispers before asking a bit louder, “I wonder what it is that they’ll get awarded with.” Olivia does a good job at appearing more interested in the events at teh front rather than the drawings of the nearby sixth year, though it is clear that she would like to examine it in awe.

Sylvie Winters-Geroff offers a brief smile to the Head Boy and Girl as they walk forward, waiting until both have reached the front of the room before she speaks again. “Mister Foster and Miss Marlowe played a crucial role in researching and apprehending Immanual Irving, a man who was working illegally to create and test dangerous potions.” She leave the explanation at that; the news of the trial likely spread even to here. “In doing so, they also cleared the name of Professor Sedgewick, for which I know we are all very grateful.” “For their skill, determination, and bravery in assisting the Ministry in this way, each will be awarded the Order of Merlin First Class.”

“What?” Eliza‘s exclamation carries to every corner of the Great Hall, and her mouth hangs open again for a moment after it is done. She looks swiftly over at Martin, as if to check whether he’s heard the same thing that she has. “Order of – First class?” Eliza repeats, her powerful voice barely a whisper now. And then she looks back at Sylvie, gulps, and straightens up, unfurling her shoulders to stand at attention before the Minister. Another smile starts to edge up the corners of Eliza‘s mouth, smaller, wondering, and proud.

Slight smile back as she watches Eliza and Martin’s reactions, Sylvie waits until the large amounts of cheering have died down again before continuing. When it finally does, she turns to face the Head Boy and Girl, taking a single step toward them to present each with the award and offer a handshake. Alongside this she adds, “Thank you, both, for your services. I’m glad to know there are people such as you, and am sure you will both do well once you leave these walls.” She offers another, larger smile to the two, before turning back to the student body at large. “It has been a pleasure to be here with you today. With no further ado, I turn you back to your Headmistress.”

With a steady hand, Eliza reaches out to accept the award, shaking the Minister’s hand firmly with the other. She stands even taller, if that were possible, and her smile shines forth into a full-force grin as she closes her hand around her Order of Merlin. But Eliza‘s eyes are shining with more than pride – as she withdraws from the handshake, she hastily reaches up to scrub at her eyes with the heel of her hand, swallowing hard even amid her smiles.

Rising from the Faculty table after Eliza and Martin have accepted the rewards, Melvina applauds loudly, after after a few moments, motions for everyone to rise and applaud as well. And with some satisfaction, she notes that the applause is both loud and very sincere. “Thank you, Minister, and congratulations to the Head Boy and Head Girl! Let us praise our fine student leaders by honoring the with the school song!” Giving a great, wordless, hooting cheer, the Headmistress breaks in to a very loud, very happy round of largely off-key song, in hopes that the room follows her lead in good cheer. “Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts, teach us something, please! Whether we be old and bald, or young with scabby knees! Our heads could do with filling, with some interesting stuff! For now they’re bare and full of air, dead flies and bits of fluff! So teach us things worth knowing, bring back what we’ve forgot! Just do your best, we’ll do the rest, and learn until our brains all rot!” And only once the Headmistress-invited standing ovation and song has progressed for several minutes, the Headmistress makes motion for everyone to quiet again. Turning to Sylvie, Martin, and Eliza, Melvina grins, warmly. Obviously quite jovile, even if there is a small mark of seriousness in her eyes. “Miss Marlowe, Mister Foster, please remain there for a moment. Thank you, Minister. I know you have pressing a pressing agenda, but if you could see fit to stay, I’m sure my staff would make room for you at our table. The meals are as lovely still as I’m sure you remember.” The offer made, she looks back to the crowd of students, her rich brown eyes twinkling, “Now, moving right along..”

“Indeed, indeed. Well done, Miss Marlowe, Mister Foster. You have both performed an act and bravery and cunning that speaks well of yourselves and this school. It is with a genuine heart that I, the faculty of Hogwarts School, and your fellow students congratulate you. However,” Melvina notes, the mirth leaving her expression at the note of that last word. The Headmistress’ tone becoming gravely serious. “As prefects, and certainly Head Boy and Head Girl, you of all pairs should know that rules are rules, and are not to be broken lightly, even in the wake of such good tidings or favorable results. Thus, I fear I must make some last moment addendums to our house rankings.”

Stepping back to allow the Headmistress the spotlight along with the two students, Sylvie joins in with the last round of clapping as the room stands up. As the clapping.. and, later, song.. fade off and Melvina resumes her speech, Sylvie apparently accepts the invitation to stay. After all, who would refuse the Hogwarts feast? And the beginning of Melvina’s speech finds her at the Faculty table.

(Hufflepuff) Applauding loudly, Olivia watches with pride as it is someone from her house who gets this award and she, for the moment, ignores Orion’s drawings and watches as the Headmistress now stands. “Oh, no…” she comments at the statement about points and slumps a little in her seat, having ignored rather strognly the invitation into the house song.

Basking in the glow of applause and praise, Eliza stands at the front of the room, pushing back the tears of joy and pride that threaten to spill out of her shining eyes. She tosses her head back, and lifts her chin higher in a show of strength, struggling to keep her smile from wavering. And then the Headmistress’s next announcement comes – and Eliza‘s expressive face melts into a look of sudden apprehension. She exchanges an entirely different kind of look with Martin now, worried and uncertain.

“For leaving the school grounds without express permission or escort of myself or one of the school faculity, I find that I must penalize both the Head Boy and Head Girl by twenty points each.” Knowing what an unpopular announcement that will be, especially after such a jolly congratulations, Melvina similar waits and allows that to sink in. Noting those who boo with the same quiet, grave expression.

Eliza lifts her chin higher still – not in defiance, but in acceptance. She stands just as straight and tall as ever, even with the burden of losing her House points as one of her last acts as a Hufflepuff – but Eliza still can’t quite bring herself to meet the eyes of her housemates, or Martin.

Once Melvina has let that reality sink in, that Ravenclaw’s lead had become absolute, the Headmistress continues. Her expression equally as serious and tone just as grave. “However, I would be remiss in following Hogwarts policy if I didn’t then, in turn, reward your fine accomplishments as well.” It’s only then than the tell-tale twinkle in her eyes glimmers as she shifts her gaze toward Martin and Eliza. “With dedication and cunning that exemplifies the core traits of both your houses, Miss Marlowe and Mister Foster, you two alone subdued and helped bring to justice a singularly Dark Wizard, and cleared our dear Professor Sedgewick’s name. For that, I have the great pleasure of awarding you fifty points, each.”

Continuing on, as if not to lose her momentum, Melvina adds in a grand voice, “Further, I award Martin Foster another fifty points efforts that saved the lives of third year Louis Harper and our Professor Rathe while putting himself under great personal risk.” Drawing a deep breath, Melvina grins, quite suddenly, and opens another round of applause, before looking down to Martin and Eliza, nodding that after they have soaked up enough praise, they may return to their tables.

And Eliza‘s grin bursts forth again, spilling over into a laugh of relief and triumph. She reaches over to shake Martin’s hand, and then changes it to an enthusiastic thump on his shoulder. With the momentary anxiety entirely dispelled, Eliza is free to let her joy emerge again, and she strides – no, runs back to the Hufflepuff table to rejoin her housemates for one last time.

(Hufflepuff) “Oh!” Olivia responds, clapping happily! “Fifty points! We’re…” she pauses for a long moment, doing the math in her head. “We’re tied with Ravenclaw now! For second place! Maybe we could win it!” Nobody seems to be paying attention to the girl’s quiet speech, though, and she quiets down, looking forward again and watching, looking a bit disappointed as Slytherin gets more points, putting them securely in first. “Well, tied for second isn’t too bad,” she comments with a shrug.

“Our Hogwarts family has endured much this term, and by sheer pluck of our students and faculty, we have emerged from the struggle stronger and shining brighter than we ever have. It is on that note, that I also wish to praise Professor Sedgewick and Professor Rathe,” Melvina continues, after the applauses have died down again. “Professor Sedgewick, of course, endured a grueling assault on her character and soul and perserved as best as one could expect. Professor Rathe showed great strength of character and soul in during the trial of Paul Clairwill, and such fortitude and bravery should be rewarded. Thought it would be unfair for me to award house points, or implore upon our dear visiting Minister to grant medals as were just recieved by our esteemed Head Boy and Head Girl, I believe they are each equally deserving of said regards, and we should all be proud of them, and of there connections to us and this school.” Again, leading a round of applause, Melvina then turns to Astra with a grin brimming with genuine pride, and motions to the blue and bronze decorations lining the room. “I believe we have a new House Champion, do we not? If you would do the honors?”

Standing up, there is a pause as the small woman reaches into her cloak to retrieve her wand. Looking rather perplexed as her name was mentioned, Astra tries to cover up her discomfort with a tight smile and a muttered, ‘my pleasure.’ Following that there she moves swiftly with a snapping motion of her wrist and wand, the banners flip from Blue and Bronze to Green and Silver changing to display from Ravenclaw to Slytherin colors. Astra‘s smile faded during the loss of points, but now she bestows a very pleased expression upon the Slytherin table as she tucks the wand away and retakes her seat without a word.

“Congratulatuions, Slytherin house! Now, only one more thing to say, before we enjoy –” With her still withdrawn wand, Melvina negligantly flicks it at the direction of the tables, summoning the End of Year Feast for everyone to enjoy. “– the fine food which has been prepared for us. This has been my first year at Hogwarts School, but it has been a fine one. Thank you all for that. When I arived, this was an imposing castle, something I remembered from my youth. A daunting job. But thanks to you all, staff and students alike, I felt welcomed, and now, I can’t help but see this place as my home. For those of you students who will return next year, remember that magic use over the summer is strictly prohibitted, and that next year I hope we can grow together as much as we have this one. For those of you graduating and going out in to the world, we have only had the oppertunity to touch each other’s lives briefly, but I hope you will remember me and this place fondly, as I will remember you. My first graduating class as the luckiest woman in the world, Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Eat well.” And with that, Melvina sits, smiling quietly.

Rising from her place at the faculty table and clearing her throat loudly in a meaningful manner, Melvina lifts her hands motions for the room to quiet. The hall is lavishly decorated in blue and silver, as seems the tradition for the current house points holder. “Hello, dear students of Hogwarts term 1926 to 1927. Or, more aptly, I should say, goodbye. What a year it has been! Yes, indeed. But, before we travel much further done this ceremonial road designed to fill our bellies, hearts, and minds until our next fine year of learning, it is my great honor of announcing to you all we have with us a special guest, joining us for a good-will mission of sorts. If you will please direct your attention, and warmly welcome…” withdrawing her long wand from the sleeve of her emerald green robes, Melvina gives the length of cherry wood a dramatic flick. The huge double doors at the rear of the hall swings open slowly, their loud creak filling the room.

(Gryffindor) Though the gryffindor has been chattering almost incessantly to her friends, when Melvina begins to speak, Briony clams up quickly, staring up at the front of the room. Now is not the time to lose more points for Gryffindor, of course. It wouldn’t be the right way to end the year. “Who do you reckon is coming?” she asks those around her as the doors open and she cranes her head to see what’s going on at the back of the room.

(Gryffindor) Not one to be outdone by the likes of Briony, Rawnie was chatting it up quite feverently herslef and had to be nudged several times by her neighbor before she was stifled sufficiently. “Maybe it’sa troll.” Whispers Rawnie to Briony, it’s no secret she had been wanting to see one since the begining of the year.

As the doors swing open to allow a view into the entrance hall, it is Sylvie Winters-Geroff, Minister for Magic, who is revealed standing behind them. Her eyes flit over the tables of students quickly, head not turning, before she takes her first steps into the room. From there it is a straight walk up the middle aisle, somewhat formal dark robes swishing slightly as they hang around her, until she has joined Melvina at the front of the hall. When she reaches it she gives a brief nod of greating to Melvina. “Thank you, Headmistress.”

(Gryffindor) Leaning back, away from the fainting chatter, Andy Carver pays attention to what the Headmistress has to tell them. Brisky turning around to the opening entrance door he almost falls over and saves himself by taking a hold of the table. “Hm, who’s that?” he asks, feeling sort of uninformed.

(Gryffindor) “It’s the Minister for Magic,” Briony hisses to Andy with a wide-eyed expression. “I got to meet her at the Ball! Oh, she’s so important!” Briony seems not to know what other adjective to apply to the woman as she stares with interest, almost rising in her seat to see better over the tall person nearby.

Melvina Prichard returns the nod with one of her own, her lips painted with a quiet, half-amused grin that is pertepually a part of her character. Perhaps more so now than on average. She did so enjoy the dramatics. “Naturally, Minister,” she replies, before finishing her introduction to the crowd. “Sylvie Winters-Geroff, Minister for Magic.” She offers some time for the stunned silence and whatever applauses might creep up out of the shock, before pushing on. “The Minister’s time is short, and she has a very special purpose for visiting us today, so I will turn the floor, and my pedistal, over to her. Minister?” Stepping away from the podium from which Melvina usually stands behind, she motions for Sylvie to take it, before returning to her seat.

(Gryffindor) A sigh of dissapointment from Rawnie, “I wish it was a troll. Witha big club’n everthin.” She mutters pokeing at her empty plate before turning attention to the Head Mistress again curiously…. but still pouty.

(Gryffindor) Felicity Wexler actually drops her pumpkin juice as the Minister for Magic enters, and lets out a fairly loud squee as it stains her skirt, immediately grabbing up as many napkins — her own, and her neighbors, to try to contain the mess as best she can while turning a fairly brilliant shade of red.

(Gryffindor) “A troll? Well, that would be exciting, I admit,” the girl tells her housemate with a bit of a giggle until she notice that her napkin has been stolen up. “Hey, that’s mine, FeLICity,” Briony tells her cousin with a scowl. “You shouldn’t take things without asking. It’s just a bit of pumpkin juice.”

“Thank you, again.” As Melvina takes her seat, Sylvie turns to fully face the students, pausing a moment as she looks over them again before she starts speaking. It’s been a few years since she’s been in this exact position, after all, though many of the older students are still familiar. “I am here today to honor two of your peers, two of the wizarding world’s finest citizens, for their great efforts put forth this past year on behalf of one of your professors.” A very quick glance is directed back at Karina. “Miss Eliza Marlowe, Mister Martin Foster, would you please join me?”

(Gryffindor) “Just a bit of pumpkin juice?” Felicity says, her voice becoming a bit shrill, even as she tries to whisper. Sylvie’s words, however, give her pause, as she looks up front while maddly dabbing at her skirt as if it would help the orange liquid from settling in.

(Gryffindor) Andy Carver really feels dumb now, but does not try to find and excuse. “Oh, politicians…” he rolls his eyes and sends a commiserating smile to Felicity as she tries to recover her skirt. As a quarrel seems to be about to begin between the cousins she hisses back, adressing both of them with a blink. “Psst, the Minister.”

(Gryffindor) “She’s the one making noise, don’t psst at me,” Briony retorts irritably and scoffs at Felicity. “You should just learn a charm for that,” the girl tells her cousin and turns her face to Sylvie as the Minister begins to talk. “Oooooh, I wonder what they’re being honored for! I want to be honored!”

With a startled gasp, Eliza Marlowe springs to her feet, unfolding gracefully to her full height despite the fact that her mouth is still hanging open in surprise. It stays open as she exchanges a glance across the room with Martin over the heads of the other students – then looks back to the Minister, and then to Karina, and then to the Minister again. Slowly at first, and then faster as the initial shock wears away, Eliza strides down the aisle towards the head table, a slow, incredulous smile beginning to spread across her face.

(Gryffindor) “Quiet ya ninnys!” Whispers Rawnie to her table suddenly and uncharacteristicly as Martin and Eliza are called. “I bet there gunner get a reward er somthin.” She says with a bright smile tossing Felicity one of her own napkins.

(Gryffindor) Andy Carver smiles and applauds as the headgirl’s and headboy’s names are announced. “Maybe we’ll be seeing you walking up there in a few years.” Andy grins to Briony. “I wonder what she’ll tell them…or give them…” he considers.

(Gryffindor) Felicity Wexler makes a vague clucking noise with her tongue at the notion of Briony being honored, though she sagely keeps any further commentary to herself, actually to curious about what it is that the Minister for Magic has come all this way to do.

Sylvie Winters-Geroff offers a brief smile to the Head Boy and Girl as they walk forward, waiting until both have reached the front of the room before she speaks again. “Mister Foster and Miss Marlowe played a crucial role in researching and apprehending Immanual Irving, a man who was working illegally to create and test dangerous potions.” She leave the explanation at that; the news of the trial likely spread even to here. “In doing so, they also cleared the name of Professor Sedgewick, for which I know we are all very grateful.” “For their skill, determination, and bravery in assisting the Ministry in this way, each will be awarded the Order of Merlin First Class.”

(Gryffindor) “I will be honored someday,” Briony comments quietly, then clapping cheerfully as the Minister announces the Head Boy and Girl’s work in apprehending a criminal. Her applause is loud, though she does not deign to whistle as she might otherwise. After all, Briony has some sense of decorum when she needs to.

(Gryffindor) “Woo! Way ter go!” Yelps Rawnie as she cheers with the rest of the school as the two students are awarded, in the middle of her excitement she pauses and leans over the table asking “Wot’s this order-o-Merlin thing?” Yes utterly clueless as usual but being raised Muggle gives her ignorance an exscuse at least.

“What?” Eliza‘s exclamation carries to every corner of the Great Hall, and her mouth hangs open again for a moment after it is done. She looks swiftly over at Martin, as if to check whether he’s heard the same thing that she has. “Order of – First class?” Eliza repeats, her powerful voice barely a whisper now. And then she looks back at Sylvie, gulps, and straightens up, unfurling her shoulders to stand at attention before the Minister. Another smile starts to edge up the corners of Eliza‘s mouth, smaller, wondering, and proud.

(Gryffindor) Andy Carver‘s jaw drops. “An Order of Merlin First Class?” A warm feeling of joy emerges from deep inside of him and he applauds loudly. Amazed he settles again. “Unbelievable, it must be like a dream comes true for them.” he says, still beaming.

(Gryffindor) “First class!” the girl gasps loudly. “It’s the top award they can get!” Briony tells Rawnie and stands up a bit, clapping loudly again. “Oh, my… can you imagine? We should be so lucky.”

Slight smile back as she watches Eliza and Martin’s reactions, Sylvie waits until the large amounts of cheering have died down again before continuing. When it finally does, she turns to face the Head Boy and Girl, taking a single step toward them to present each with the award and offer a handshake. Alongside this she adds, “Thank you, both, for your services. I’m glad to know there are people such as you, and am sure you will both do well once you leave these walls.” She offers another, larger smile to the two, before turning back to the student body at large. “It has been a pleasure to be here with you today. With no further ado, I turn you back to your Headmistress.”

With a steady hand, Eliza reaches out to accept the award, shaking the Minister’s hand firmly with the other. She stands even taller, if that were possible, and her smile shines forth into a full-force grin as she closes her hand around her Order of Merlin. But Eliza‘s eyes are shining with more than pride – as she withdraws from the handshake, she hastily reaches up to scrub at her eyes with the heel of her hand, swallowing hard even amid her smiles.

Rising from the Faculty table after Eliza and Martin have accepted the rewards, Melvina applauds loudly, after after a few moments, motions for everyone to rise and applaud as well. And with some satisfaction, she notes that the applause is both loud and very sincere. “Thank you, Minister, and congratulations to the Head Boy and Head Girl! Let us praise our fine student leaders by honoring the with the school song!” Giving a great, wordless, hooting cheer, the Headmistress breaks in to a very loud, very happy round of largely off-key song, in hopes that the room follows her lead in good cheer. “Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts, teach us something, please! Whether we be old and bald, or young with scabby knees! Our heads could do with filling, with some interesting stuff! For now they’re bare and full of air, dead flies and bits of fluff! So teach us things worth knowing, bring back what we’ve forgot! Just do your best, we’ll do the rest, and learn until our brains all rot!” And only once the Headmistress-invited standing ovation and song has progressed for several minutes, the Headmistress makes motion for everyone to quiet again. Turning to Sylvie, Martin, and Eliza, Melvina grins, warmly. Obviously quite jovile, even if there is a small mark of seriousness in her eyes. “Miss Marlowe, Mister Foster, please remain there for a moment. Thank you, Minister. I know you have pressing a pressing agenda, but if you could see fit to stay, I’m sure my staff would make room for you at our table. The meals are as lovely still as I’m sure you remember.” The offer made, she looks back to the crowd of students, her rich brown eyes twinkling, “Now, moving right along..”

“Indeed, indeed. Well done, Miss Marlowe, Mister Foster. You have both performed an act and bravery and cunning that speaks well of yourselves and this school. It is with a genuine heart that I, the faculty of Hogwarts School, and your fellow students congratulate you. However,” Melvina notes, the mirth leaving her expression at the note of that last word. The Headmistress’ tone becoming gravely serious. “As prefects, and certainly Head Boy and Head Girl, you of all pairs should know that rules are rules, and are not to be broken lightly, even in the wake of such good tidings or favorable results. Thus, I fear I must make some last moment addendums to our house rankings.”

Stepping back to allow the Headmistress the spotlight along with the two students, Sylvie joins in with the last round of clapping as the room stands up. As the clapping.. and, later, song.. fade off and Melvina resumes her speech, Sylvie apparently accepts the invitation to stay. After all, who would refuse the Hogwarts feast? And the beginning of Melvina’s speech finds her at the Faculty table.

Basking in the glow of applause and praise, Eliza stands at the front of the room, pushing back the tears of joy and pride that threaten to spill out of her shining eyes. She tosses her head back, and lifts her chin higher in a show of strength, struggling to keep her smile from wavering. And then the Headmistress’s next announcement comes – and Eliza‘s expressive face melts into a look of sudden apprehension. She exchanges an entirely different kind of look with Martin now, worried and uncertain.

“For leaving the school grounds without express permission or escort of myself or one of the school faculity, I find that I must penalize both the Head Boy and Head Girl by twenty points each.” Knowing what an unpopular announcement that will be, especially after such a jolly congratulations, Melvina similar waits and allows that to sink in. Noting those who boo with the same quiet, grave expression.

(Gryffindor) Joining in cheerfully, Briony sings the school song loudly, and perhaps a bit out of tune, sacrificing her tone for her volume. “Oh!” she comments as both Hufflepuff and Slytherin lose twenty points each. “Maybe we’ll catch up!” she comments, though this is rather wishful thinking, even given the wake of point losses.

(Gryffindor) Andy‘s eyes suddenly widen. “Hey, they just got the Order of Merlin, why do they still have to be penalized?” Andy shakes his head. “Hm, maybe you are right, Briony. But don’t you think they will be awarded even more points for what they really intended to do? They just broke the rules for other good purposes, you know…” Andy is quite uncertain.

(Gryffindor) “Maybe!” Yelps Rawnie excitedly. “I wouldn’ta traded points fer some order thingy.” She says sniggering softly. Truth be known Rawnie only recently came to understand the points system. “But that erm… Ravenclaw house should lose some too… erm for reasons I don’t care ter discuss…” Meaning ‘I just want us to win.’

Eliza lifts her chin higher still – not in defiance, but in acceptance. She stands just as straight and tall as ever, even with the burden of losing her House points as one of her last acts as a Hufflepuff – but Eliza still can’t quite bring herself to meet the eyes of her housemates, or Martin.

Once Melvina has let that reality sink in, that Ravenclaw’s lead had become absolute, the Headmistress continues. Her expression equally as serious and tone just as grave. “However, I would be remiss in following Hogwarts policy if I didn’t then, in turn, reward your fine accomplishments as well.” It’s only then than the tell-tale twinkle in her eyes glimmers as she shifts her gaze toward Martin and Eliza. “With dedication and cunning that exemplifies the core traits of both your houses, Miss Marlowe and Mister Foster, you two alone subdued and helped bring to justice a singularly Dark Wizard, and cleared our dear Professor Sedgewick’s name. For that, I have the great pleasure of awarding you fifty points, each.”

Continuing on, as if not to lose her momentum, Melvina adds in a grand voice, “Further, I award Martin Foster another fifty points efforts that saved the lives of third year Louis Harper and our Professor Rathe while putting himself under great personal risk.” Drawing a deep breath, Melvina grins, quite suddenly, and opens another round of applause, before looking down to Martin and Eliza, nodding that after they have soaked up enough praise, they may return to their tables.

And Eliza‘s grin bursts forth again, spilling over into a laugh of relief and triumph. She reaches over to shake Martin’s hand, and then changes it to an enthusiastic thump on his shoulder. With the momentary anxiety entirely dispelled, Eliza is free to let her joy emerge again, and she strides – no, runs back to the Hufflepuff table to rejoin her housemates for one last time.

“Our Hogwarts family has endured much this term, and by sheer pluck of our students and faculty, we have emerged from the struggle stronger and shining brighter than we ever have. It is on that note, that I also wish to praise Professor Sedgewick and Professor Rathe,” Melvina continues, after the applauses have died down again. “Professor Sedgewick, of course, endured a grueling assault on her character and soul and perserved as best as one could expect. Professor Rathe showed great strength of character and soul in during the trial of Paul Clairwill, and such fortitude and bravery should be rewarded. Thought it would be unfair for me to award house points, or implore upon our dear visiting Minister to grant medals as were just recieved by our esteemed Head Boy and Head Girl, I believe they are each equally deserving of said regards, and we should all be proud of them, and of there connections to us and this school.” Again, leading a round of applause, Melvina then turns to Astra with a grin brimming with genuine pride, and motions to the blue and bronze decorations lining the room. “I believe we have a new House Champion, do we not? If you would do the honors?”

Standing up, there is a pause as the small woman reaches into her cloak to retrieve her wand. Looking rather perplexed as her name was mentioned, Astra tries to cover up her discomfort with a tight smile and a muttered, ‘my pleasure.’ Following that there she moves swiftly with a snapping motion of her wrist and wand, the banners flip from Blue and Bronze to Green and Silver changing to display from Ravenclaw to Slytherin colors. Astra‘s smile faded during the loss of points, but now she bestows a very pleased expression upon the Slytherin table as she tucks the wand away and retakes her seat without a word.

“Congratulatuions, Slytherin house! Now, only one more thing to say, before we enjoy –” With her still withdrawn wand, Melvina negligantly flicks it at the direction of the tables, summoning the End of Year Feast for everyone to enjoy. “– the fine food which has been prepared for us. This has been my first year at Hogwarts School, but it has been a fine one. Thank you all for that. When I arived, this was an imposing castle, something I remembered from my youth. A daunting job. But thanks to you all, staff and students alike, I felt welcomed, and now, I can’t help but see this place as my home. For those of you students who will return next year, remember that magic use over the summer is strictly prohibitted, and that next year I hope we can grow together as much as we have this one. For those of you graduating and going out in to the world, we have only had the oppertunity to touch each other’s lives briefly, but I hope you will remember me and this place fondly, as I will remember you. My first graduating class as the luckiest woman in the world, Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Eat well.” And with that, Melvina sits, smiling quietly.

(Gryffindor) “Ooooh, tasty food!” Briony squeals, feeling relatively apathetic about the house cup now. After all, from the start of the term, Gryffindor had been at a disadvantage. “What’re you doin’ ‘fer summer?” she asks those around her, her mouth full of chicken. “My da’ says ‘eeees go’ a project ‘fer us.” Really, Briony. Girls this age should know better than to talk with their mouths full.

(Gryffindor) Has no qualms about talking with a mouth full of food, and she is eating just as ravenously as ever as she answers. “Im gunner try an spend ano’r summer with me mum I think, She said she’s gots me a surprise an Im je diein ter know wot.” Rawnie washes her food down quickly with some pumkin juice. “I’m gunner ask if we kin stay at that Hogsmeade place!”

(Gryffindor) Felicity Wexler only adds a very small amount of food to her plate, and compared to Briony whom she sits next to, her usually slow method of eating appears positively dainty. Still somewhat cross about the pumpkin juice on her skirt, the third-year asks with a somewhat lofted brow, “I imagine I’ll spend the summer with my Grandmother Larsen — she wants to go up to the lake. What sort of project?”

(Gryffindor) “I ‘unno,” Briony answers, surprisingly congenially considering to whom she is speaking. “Dad hasn’t told me yet, he just said we’ve got a project after we get home for summer. He said mum gets to help, too, so maybe it’s something fun and not repapering the house or something.” Briony shudders at the thought of this. “If you come to Hogsmeade, you should owl me! We can go on adventures and such! It’ll be fun! Gabe is probably coming to visit, too. It’s going to be a very exciting summer.” She pauses. “I’m going to be thirteen this July!” Briony looks quite proud at this.

(Gryffindor) “Oh! Blimey, thirteen! I only jes turned twelve a few days ago.” Rawnie says a bit surprised. She seems a little dissapointed being the youngest of the three girls but it still doesn’t curb her appetite. “I’ll do that! I don’t gots many people ter send Figaro too with let’as so ‘ell be happy.”

(Gryffindor) After Andy has shuffled a good amount of food onto his plate he follows the conversation, mainly just listening while eating. “Hm, I’ve got no idea what I’m going to be doing the whole summer with my parents. So you…uhm…won’t be in Hogsmeade or so over the summer, Felicity?” Andy asks with a small voice, quickly looking down to his plate again, trying to let it sound as occasionally as possible.

(Gryffindor) Felicity Wexler seems to consider that, after placing a small forkful of meat pie on her mouth. It’s quite a curious thing, despite being somewhat upset about her skirt, her tone to Briony is more or less cordial as well. There were, it would seem, times that they occasionally put aside (or simply forgot) the fact that they couldn’t stand each other, and got along rather well. “July fourteenth, right?” Felicity murmurs, recalling the date from her calander. “I don’t know that we’re planning to stop in Hogsmeade, though I imagine that Gran probally will have a few more visits with Aunty Sybil, at least until Aunty Sibyl becomes — well, to busy.” Her eyes twinkle, almost a little mischeviously at that, as she glances to Briony. The idea of Briony’s coming little sister excites her, especially since she has no little sisters — just a little brother, who cried all the time. “She doesn’t like me to be around when she sees Auntie Sybil, but I tell her I’m going to play with you, I’m sure she’ll bring me along.” She pauses a little, as Andy speaks, turning her gaze to him as she puts down her fork, and picks up her pumpkin juice — being very careful with it this time. “Some, I’m sure. Will you be?”

(Gryffindor) “Oh, mum should have the baby before my birthday, she said. She told me she’s amazed she lasted this long.” Briony pauses as she thinks of another sibling, though, looking forward some, and then also cringing a bit. Another one to stretch their school supplies and clothes between. Of course, it doesn’t occur to Briony that the little one might not even need to share with them. “Oh, yes, it’s in July,” the girl finally answers, nodding before she puts more food into her mouth. “Iffs gunna be great, too. Gabe iff gunna be there, too. His birfday’s the same.” Briony pauses as she continues to chew. “Are you going to be there for your birthday, too?”

(Gryffindor) Andy quickly gulps down half a potato and almost has to cough it out again, because it still is too hot for being swallowed. Having managed this while blushing to a deep red he replies to Felicity. “Yes, I surely will be there. I’ve nothing planned, you know. So just send me an owl when you know the date and so on.” Eased that there could be a way to meet his friend outside of the school’s boundaries, Andy takes another fork of carrots.

(Gryffindor) “That all depends, I guess,” Felicity murmurs, her voice becoming quiet, and her eyes somewhat subdued at Briony’s question. A thought creeping up on her that she’d rather not consider, a harsh reality. “On Grandmother Larsen.” Those last few words fall from her with a weight that she can’t quite bear, which immediately summons her voice again, with a somewhat forced smile to try to lighten them. “She loves the lake, after all. She might want to stay all summer.” Looking grateful for a switch in direction from her hard thoughts, Felicity smiles warmly to Andy. Her too-cute, shimmery smile. Subtle, cute, and real, unlike her fake-face-everyone-is-looking smiles. “I will. I look forward to it.”

(Gryffindor) Looking from Andy to Felicity and back again, Briony seems to miss entirely the connection between them and the significance of their words. Why the drama about visiting? Shrugging, the girl continues working on cleaning her plate, and it is not long before her plate is, in fact, cleaned. “Should be a great summer,” Briony responds, grinning at Felicity, apparently unaware of the significance, too, of the comment about her grandmother.

(Gryffindor) “Mhn, great,” Felicity murmurs, quietly, in response to Briony’s assessment of the summertime’s potential. Her tone half-genuine, and half-filled with a quiet dread. She’d not expected Briony to cotton on to her verbal slip, and honestly, she was glad. It hurt to much to think about. “Well, I still have some packing to do. I’ve let it go late. And I need to change my skirt. I’ll let you know when I’m going to be in Hogsmeade. See you on the train tomarrow. Excuse me.” And before Andy can make note of it, afraid that he might be more perceptive, she pushes herself up and makes her way from the hall.

(Gryffindor) After a long while, Briony, too, finishes her meal and grins at those around her. “Have a good vacation!” she tells them all. “I’m going to go make sure all my things are together so we can leave sooner!” She giggles as she says this and finishes off her pumpkin juice before standing up from the table quickly and making her way out to her commonroom.

Rising from her place at the faculty table and clearing her throat loudly in a meaningful manner, Melvina lifts her hands motions for the room to quiet. The hall is lavishly decorated in blue and silver, as seems the tradition for the current house points holder. “Hello, dear students of Hogwarts term 1926 to 1927. Or, more aptly, I should say, goodbye. What a year it has been! Yes, indeed. But, before we travel much further done this ceremonial road designed to fill our bellies, hearts, and minds until our next fine year of learning, it is my great honor of announcing to you all we have with us a special guest, joining us for a good-will mission of sorts. If you will please direct your attention, and warmly welcome…” withdrawing her long wand from the sleeve of her emerald green robes, Melvina gives the length of cherry wood a dramatic flick. The huge double doors at the rear of the hall swings open slowly, their loud creak filling the room.

As the doors swing open to allow a view into the entrance hall, it is Sylvie Winters-Geroff, Minister for Magic, who is revealed standing behind them. Her eyes flit over the tables of students quickly, head not turning, before she takes her first steps into the room. From there it is a straight walk up the middle aisle, somewhat formal dark robes swishing slightly as they hang around her, until she has joined Melvina at the front of the hall. When she reaches it she gives a brief nod of greating to Melvina. “Thank you, Headmistress.”

(Faculty) Bonnie, who has been expecting a rather typical — or boring, however one might put it — end of year feast, is startled at this. Assuming that perhaps the events of the school year might have something to do with this, she sits up straighter, watching down the end of the room with perhaps a bit less awe and pure curiosity than the students all seem to have. As the Minister for Magic enters, however, Bonnie‘s mental assumptions seem to have been proved true while she leans back again. Though, of course, what the Minister would have to do with an end of the year sorting, the teacher can only guess.

Melvina Prichard returns the nod with one of her own, her lips painted with a quiet, half-amused grin that is pertepually a part of her character. Perhaps more so now than on average. She did so enjoy the dramatics. “Naturally, Minister,” she replies, before finishing her introduction to the crowd. “Sylvie Winters-Geroff, Minister for Magic.” She offers some time for the stunned silence and whatever applauses might creep up out of the shock, before pushing on. “The Minister’s time is short, and she has a very special purpose for visiting us today, so I will turn the floor, and my pedistal, over to her. Minister?” Stepping away from the podium from which Melvina usually stands behind, she motions for Sylvie to take it, before returning to her seat.

(Faculty) Apparently expecting something of the sort, Astra leans back casually in her chair. Her left hand dangles at her side, but she instinctually reaches for the flask that is ever at easy reach. Fingers settle around the familiar friend, but she does not pull it out. An actual smile lights her features when Sylvie enters the room, but it fades quickly and she begins to eye the ceiling of the hall in a casual manner.

(Faculty) Keelan Walsh is sitting unusually stiffly, looking about as comfortable as she normally does when the hall is bedeked in Ravenclaw’s colors. Still, at the announcement, the green-clad Herbology professor quirks her head to the side. With eyebrows raised and expression clearly registering surprise at the notion of a guest, she waits expectantly for the entrance. When she sees who it is however, Keelan actually smiles and briefly applauds. After all, outside of being Minister for Magic, Sylvie Winters(-Geroff!) had been her first Head of House. That alone commands a nostalgic respect. Soon enough, she settles down, stiff-backed again, to wait.

(Faculty) “Oh my…” comes Sibyl Wexler‘s impressed murmur, from her seat at the end of the Faculty table. Her eyes widen as she follows the Minister’s progress down the aisle, and she pulls herself a little straighter in her chair as she applauds. She makes no move to do anything more strenuous, though – this late in her pregnancy, Sibyl has grown large enough that staying seated is a much more comfortable option than anything else. The nurse’s cheerful smile is undimmed, though, and she turns to look at first Melvina and then the Minister with growing interest and raised eyebrows.

“Thank you, again.” As Melvina takes her seat, Sylvie turns to fully face the students, pausing a moment as she looks over them again before she starts speaking. It’s been a few years since she’s been in this exact position, after all, though many of the older students are still familiar. “I am here today to honor two of your peers, two of the wizarding world’s finest citizens, for their great efforts put forth this past year on behalf of one of your professors.” A very quick glance is directed back at Karina. “Miss Eliza Marlowe, Mister Martin Foster, would you please join me?”

With a startled gasp, Eliza Marlowe springs to her feet, unfolding gracefully to her full height despite the fact that her mouth is still hanging open in surprise. It stays open as she exchanges a glance across the room with Martin over the heads of the other students – then looks back to the Minister, and then to Karina, and then to the Minister again. Slowly at first, and then faster as the initial shock wears away, Eliza strides down the aisle towards the head table, a slow, incredulous smile beginning to spread across her face.

(Faculty) Melvina Prichard continues to watch the Minister, even after she sits, her half-amused expression lingering on her lips. A handful of the faculity were made aware of the events that were about to take place, but owing to a love of the theatrical, Melvina had naturally left some out. After all, what is a surprise if everyone knows what will happen. That thought proves a bit to much, though, and the Headmistress does find herself having to take a sit of the flagon of water in front her to briefly hide a small chuckle.

(Faculty) Grinning mischievously at the events as they unfold, Astra too has an obvious love for the theatrics, but unlike Melvina she takes few pains to hide the sly smile or the soft chuckle that follows. Glancing sidelong at the Headmistress, the teacher purses her lips and forces herself not to say a word. The grip on her flask relaxes and she withdraws her fingers from the object. Settling both hands in her lap, she sits up straight and returns her gaze to the Minister and the students in question.

Sylvie Winters-Geroff offers a brief smile to the Head Boy and Girl as they walk forward, waiting until both have reached the front of the room before she speaks again. “Mister Foster and Miss Marlowe played a crucial role in researching and apprehending Immanual Irving, a man who was working illegally to create and test dangerous potions.” She leave the explanation at that; the news of the trial likely spread even to here. “In doing so, they also cleared the name of Professor Sedgewick, for which I know we are all very grateful.” “For their skill, determination, and bravery in assisting the Ministry in this way, each will be awarded the Order of Merlin First Class.”

(Faculty) Bonnie‘s eyebrow raises as she turns to see that Astra looks awfully smug several seats down the table. While the Divination professor would like to lean down and ask the woman, it certainly wouldn’t be very good form to do this while the Minister for Magic is speaking and she keeps mum, instead turning her face foward again, taking in the woman’s speech further.

“What?” Eliza‘s exclamation carries to every corner of the Great Hall, and her mouth hangs open again for a moment after it is done. She looks swiftly over at Martin, as if to check whether he’s heard the same thing that she has. “Order of – First class?” Eliza repeats, her powerful voice barely a whisper now. And then she looks back at Sylvie, gulps, and straightens up, unfurling her shoulders to stand at attention before the Minister. Another smile starts to edge up the corners of Eliza‘s mouth, smaller, wondering, and proud.

(Faculty) Continuing to look rather impish than full of herself, Astra grins a touch wider to show teeth. She’s enjoying this scene very much, although it’s a personal sort of pleasure that bursts into full bloom when Sylvie finally makes her announcement. Clapping, she purposefully controls her reaction and bites back a shout of joy for the two young adults so awarded.

(Faculty) Keelan Walsh doesn’t look too surprised, though she could just be covering up her expression for once. A soft smile spreads across her features, but in all reality they weren’t her closest students by a wide margin, not having the scores for her particular class. Still, should they look her way for any reason, the smile will widen appreciatively. So they saved the professor of her least favorite subject; At least they had and the Ministry wasn’t ignoring it. Keelan glances briefly down the table toward Karina, and then sets her expresison forward again, hands folding across her lap.

Slight smile back as she watches Eliza and Martin’s reactions, Sylvie waits until the large amounts of cheering have died down again before continuing. When it finally does, she turns to face the Head Boy and Girl, taking a single step toward them to present each with the award and offer a handshake. Alongside this she adds, “Thank you, both, for your services. I’m glad to know there are people such as you, and am sure you will both do well once you leave these walls.” She offers another, larger smile to the two, before turning back to the student body at large. “It has been a pleasure to be here with you today. With no further ado, I turn you back to your Headmistress.”

With a steady hand, Eliza reaches out to accept the award, shaking the Minister’s hand firmly with the other. She stands even taller, if that were possible, and her smile shines forth into a full-force grin as she closes her hand around her Order of Merlin. But Eliza‘s eyes are shining with more than pride – as she withdraws from the handshake, she hastily reaches up to scrub at her eyes with the heel of her hand, swallowing hard even amid her smiles.

Rising from the Faculty table after Eliza and Martin have accepted the rewards, Melvina applauds loudly, after after a few moments, motions for everyone to rise and applaud as well. And with some satisfaction, she notes that the applause is both loud and very sincere. “Thank you, Minister, and congratulations to the Head Boy and Head Girl! Let us praise our fine student leaders by honoring the with the school song!” Giving a great, wordless, hooting cheer, the Headmistress breaks in to a very loud, very happy round of largely off-key song, in hopes that the room follows her lead in good cheer. “Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts, teach us something, please! Whether we be old and bald, or young with scabby knees! Our heads could do with filling, with some interesting stuff! For now they’re bare and full of air, dead flies and bits of fluff! So teach us things worth knowing, bring back what we’ve forgot! Just do your best, we’ll do the rest, and learn until our brains all rot!” And only once the Headmistress-invited standing ovation and song has progressed for several minutes, the Headmistress makes motion for everyone to quiet again. Turning to Sylvie, Martin, and Eliza, Melvina grins, warmly. Obviously quite jovile, even if there is a small mark of seriousness in her eyes. “Miss Marlowe, Mister Foster, please remain there for a moment. Thank you, Minister. I know you have pressing a pressing agenda, but if you could see fit to stay, I’m sure my staff would make room for you at our table. The meals are as lovely still as I’m sure you remember.” The offer made, she looks back to the crowd of students, her rich brown eyes twinkling, “Now, moving right along..”

“Indeed, indeed. Well done, Miss Marlowe, Mister Foster. You have both performed an act and bravery and cunning that speaks well of yourselves and this school. It is with a genuine heart that I, the faculty of Hogwarts School, and your fellow students congratulate you. However,” Melvina notes, the mirth leaving her expression at the note of that last word. The Headmistress’ tone becoming gravely serious. “As prefects, and certainly Head Boy and Head Girl, you of all pairs should know that rules are rules, and are not to be broken lightly, even in the wake of such good tidings or favorable results. Thus, I fear I must make some last moment addendums to our house rankings.”

Stepping back to allow the Headmistress the spotlight along with the two students, Sylvie joins in with the last round of clapping as the room stands up. As the clapping.. and, later, song.. fade off and Melvina resumes her speech, Sylvie apparently accepts the invitation to stay. After all, who would refuse the Hogwarts feast? And the beginning of Melvina’s speech finds her at the Faculty table.

(Faculty) Mumbling the school song with no great enthusiasm, Astra‘s lips move nicely but the words are more spoken than sung and what does manage to be audible is more a whisper of jumbled words. As Melvina begins her own speech, the remaining smile fades away.

Basking in the glow of applause and praise, Eliza stands at the front of the room, pushing back the tears of joy and pride that threaten to spill out of her shining eyes. She tosses her head back, and lifts her chin higher in a show of strength, struggling to keep her smile from wavering. And then the Headmistress’s next announcement comes – and Eliza‘s expressive face melts into a look of sudden apprehension. She exchanges an entirely different kind of look with Martin now, worried and uncertain.

“For leaving the school grounds without express permission or escort of myself or one of the school faculity, I find that I must penalize both the Head Boy and Head Girl by twenty points each.” Knowing what an unpopular announcement that will be, especially after such a jolly congratulations, Melvina similar waits and allows that to sink in. Noting those who boo with the same quiet, grave expression.

(Faculty) Keelan Walsh sings the school song with all the enthusiasm of a dead rock–that is, she sort of opens and shuts her mouth once or twice but not sound comes out and her cheeks turn a rosy shade of red. Her nostrils flare at the reduction of points, and it’s in a still inaudible mutter that the professor comments, “As if Ravenclaw needed more of a lead in order to win.” She resumes her unpleasant posture of ‘getting through the feast’. Very mature. No. Honest!

Eliza lifts her chin higher still – not in defiance, but in acceptance. She stands just as straight and tall as ever, even with the burden of losing her House points as one of her last acts as a Hufflepuff – but Eliza still can’t quite bring herself to meet the eyes of her housemates, or Martin.

Once Melvina has let that reality sink in, that Ravenclaw’s lead had become absolute, the Headmistress continues. Her expression equally as serious and tone just as grave. “However, I would be remiss in following Hogwarts policy if I didn’t then, in turn, reward your fine accomplishments as well.” It’s only then than the tell-tale twinkle in her eyes glimmers as she shifts her gaze toward Martin and Eliza. “With dedication and cunning that exemplifies the core traits of both your houses, Miss Marlowe and Mister Foster, you two alone subdued and helped bring to justice a singularly Dark Wizard, and cleared our dear Professor Sedgewick’s name. For that, I have the great pleasure of awarding you fifty points, each.”

Continuing on, as if not to lose her momentum, Melvina adds in a grand voice, “Further, I award Martin Foster another fifty points efforts that saved the lives of third year Louis Harper and our Professor Rathe while putting himself under great personal risk.” Drawing a deep breath, Melvina grins, quite suddenly, and opens another round of applause, before looking down to Martin and Eliza, nodding that after they have soaked up enough praise, they may return to their tables.

And Eliza‘s grin bursts forth again, spilling over into a laugh of relief and triumph. She reaches over to shake Martin’s hand, and then changes it to an enthusiastic thump on his shoulder. With the momentary anxiety entirely dispelled, Eliza is free to let her joy emerge again, and she strides – no, runs back to the Hufflepuff table to rejoin her housemates for one last time.

(Faculty) Keelan Walsh is watching the giant hourglasses fill and lets out a rather unprofessional, “Ha!”, turns bright red, and then murmurs, “Rather, congratulations to them. Deserved it, of course. Hard work.” Lower, probably just to whomever is closest to her (in all likelyhood, Julie), “Not being Ravenclaws.” Back to herself, she smiles at Astra and Melvina and the Slytherin in general. At least she resisted the urge to smirk at the Ravenclaws. After all, who knows, maybe some of the first years saved a barrage of house elves while nobody was looking and they’ll win again anyway. She waits.

“Our Hogwarts family has endured much this term, and by sheer pluck of our students and faculty, we have emerged from the struggle stronger and shining brighter than we ever have. It is on that note, that I also wish to praise Professor Sedgewick and Professor Rathe,” Melvina continues, after the applauses have died down again. “Professor Sedgewick, of course, endured a grueling assault on her character and soul and perserved as best as one could expect. Professor Rathe showed great strength of character and soul in during the trial of Paul Clairwill, and such fortitude and bravery should be rewarded. Thought it would be unfair for me to award house points, or implore upon our dear visiting Minister to grant medals as were just recieved by our esteemed Head Boy and Head Girl, I believe they are each equally deserving of said regards, and we should all be proud of them, and of there connections to us and this school.” Again, leading a round of applause, Melvina then turns to Astra with a grin brimming with genuine pride, and motions to the blue and bronze decorations lining the room. “I believe we have a new House Champion, do we not? If you would do the honors?”

Standing up, there is a pause as the small woman reaches into her cloak to retrieve her wand. Looking rather perplexed as her name was mentioned, Astra tries to cover up her discomfort with a tight smile and a muttered, ‘my pleasure.’ Following that there she moves swiftly with a snapping motion of her wrist and wand, the banners flip from Blue and Bronze to Green and Silver changing to display from Ravenclaw to Slytherin colors. Astra‘s smile faded during the loss of points, but now she bestows a very pleased expression upon the Slytherin table as she tucks the wand away and retakes her seat without a word.

“Congratulatuions, Slytherin house! Now, only one more thing to say, before we enjoy –” With her still withdrawn wand, Melvina negligantly flicks it at the direction of the tables, summoning the End of Year Feast for everyone to enjoy. “– the fine food which has been prepared for us. This has been my first year at Hogwarts School, but it has been a fine one. Thank you all for that. When I arived, this was an imposing castle, something I remembered from my youth. A daunting job. But thanks to you all, staff and students alike, I felt welcomed, and now, I can’t help but see this place as my home. For those of you students who will return next year, remember that magic use over the summer is strictly prohibitted, and that next year I hope we can grow together as much as we have this one. For those of you graduating and going out in to the world, we have only had the oppertunity to touch each other’s lives briefly, but I hope you will remember me and this place fondly, as I will remember you. My first graduating class as the luckiest woman in the world, Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Eat well.” And with that, Melvina sits, smiling quietly.

(Faculty) Chuckling darkly as the Headmistress resumes her seat, Astra does reach for her flask this time. Opening it, she pours some of the contents into her goblet. Stopping it back up, she puts it away and reaches for the goblet. “Ah yes, a warm welcome from the staff,” grinning sharply her dry humor hasn’t changed in the slightest. “That’s not exactly how I’d phrase such things but then,” raising the glass to Melvina, “You’ve grown on me. I hope we all have a better year next year.” Sweeping her arm to include those down the table away from her, she smiles to all gathered at the table. “To all of us, it’s been interesting this year if not always pleasurable.”

(Faculty) Melvina Prichard chuckles, softly, passing a vague glance to Astra with a coy sort of expression. “Truly? It must be age, then, as I was certain everyone at this table welcomed me with open arms.” Her tone is laced with a similar dry amusement that marks Astra’s, though her expression softens noticably at the gesture made by the Defense Master. Taking up her own tankard, she lifts it as well, in response. “To all of us. Hear, hear.”

(Faculty) “Poor Ravenclaw,” is all Bonnie comments before she begins to fill her plate with some of the delectable cuisine from before her. The smug looks on some faces before her causes the woman to chuckle, however, and she does seem amused at how the various houses are taking the news.

(Faculty) “The Ravenclaw did very well for themselves this year with Quidditch and they managed to get the House Cup last year. I’m sure they’ll continue proving themselves.” Smiling a little fondly, Astra takes a drink from her goblet, but ignores all the food on the table. “I’m proud of the Slytherin. I don’t know when the last time was that the won a House Cup, but even if they don’t win again it’s good to see they’re turning around and actually caring.” “I’m a bit sad for Hufflepuff actually they did very well this year. Maybe next year they’ll surprise us all.” While she’s not the kind to typically make conversation, she is trying and more, she’s actually being polite for once rather than using her usual curt manners.

(Faculty) “Indeed. I had some very talented Hufflepuffs in my class this year,” Bonnie adds after a sip of some stew. “Perhaps next year will surprise us all,” the woman comments as well, smiling down the table to Astra. How congenial! Bonnie does not appear to be so very hungry as all that, though, leaving bits and pieces of the food she has taken on the plate before her and instead sipping her pumpkin juice slowly, interspersing it with the occasional bite of food.

(Faculty) “Good to hear, all I managed to glean was complaints and whines from students about how hard Divination was.” Grinning sharply, it’s a glimmer of her dark humor and Astra directs it at Bonnie. “I’m glad to hear and see that Divination isn’t at all like old Dinsmore taught. I thought it was another easy ‘A’ until I heard things in the hallways. Things are different now, but that’s not such a bad thing. I hope your Hufflepuff continue to do well, they’re a mostly good bunch that House.” “May you continue to get talented students and not ones like,” chuckling, “well to be blunt, like I was.”

(Faculty) Bonnie laughs actually quite loud as Astra says this. “It’s only hard if they don’t apply themselves to it.” Bonnie seems to believe this, too. “And I wish you good students as well. I can only imagine from the stories I’ve heard about the horrors of the old Divination teachers what the rest of the teachers must have been like. I simply can’t imagine. Hiring people like that after the joy that Professor D’Estiny was.” Bonnie‘s eyes almost seem to glaze over in sheer joy as she thinks back to her own Hogwarts days. “Hopefully the students are doing better in Defense than many were doing in Divination?”

(Faculty) Melvina Prichard simply listens, quietly smiling, feeling quite warm from the butterbeer that had found it’s way in to her belly and the steaming turkey legs she had enjoyed. She had meant every word, ultimately. About this place feeling like home, and her staff feeling like family. It was pleasant, that way. And she hoped that feeling would continue. Astra was right. It had been a rocky start, but once things had smoothed over, everything seemed to even out. And now.. she had a family again. ‘Actually,’ Melvina thought, as she looked out at the Ravenclaw table, to one fifth-year prefect and one second-year teenager. ‘Two families, under one roof.’ “What a year,” she whispers, sipping her butterbeer once more.

(Faculty) “I would say they’ll at least survive the world when they leave my class, but I don’t think many really care about the subject.” Shrugging, Astra takes another drink and sets the goblet down. “I can’t really blame them; it’s not my favorite subject either. Who really wants to prepare to face off things that range from pests to outright dangers? Not really a pleasant subject at all.” “Most of them do what they have to in order to get by.”

(Faculty) Sylvie Winters-Geroff has remained mostly silent for the feast so far, though even she looked slightly pleased at Slytherin’s win. It would hardly do for her to say so of course. Now she contributes, “The first Divination professor I had was rather good; of course, Professor Love left while I was still young.” As if she’s terribly old now – but it was her fourth or fifth year. As the conversation moves on however, she quiets again, rather enjoying just being back for one feast.

(Faculty) “Ah, yes, well… that does make sense,” Bonnie answers. After all, it had not been her best subject by any means. “I never could quite cotton on to it, myself, anyway.” Pausing as the Minister speaks up, bonnie nods. “That will have been after I left school, I think, that Professor Love was there.” Stating this, Bonnie almost balks at herself. How is it she comes to be so much older than the Minister after all? “It’s a real pity that there were such poor teachers after.” Bonnie shakes her head again and sips her pumpkin juice, falling quiet.

(Faculty) Glancing at the Headmistress, Astra doesn’t quite scowl. “My own are coming in next year. I don’t know how you manage Melvina, I really don’t. I’m almost afraid of having my children as pupils.” Grabbing up the goblet, she sips again from the contents and grins at Bonnie’s words. “We had a few decent professors, but most of them were terrible really. The ones that were good I would have done anything for, they made me love being here. Then of course there were the terrible ones that I detested and they made school almost as unbearable and the horrible students.” “I think that the demand for quality is improving, rather than the Board just placing their favorites in positions. It’s good to see and it’s good to know that the students who leave us will have a solid education.”

(Faculty) “Oh, I do hope yours will take Divination when the time comes,” Bonnie comments cheerfully, finishing off the last of her food, though she leaves much of the stew in its bowl, mostly untouched. “I had better go set things to rights in my office before I head off for the summer,” the woman comments. “So very nice to meet you,” she addresses to the Minister for Magic and then smiles to the rest of the faculty. “See you soon,” she tells them all, giving a mock salute with a bit of a grin as she stands and makes her way out of the Great Hall.

NEWTs and the end of the year approach, and the strain is starting to show on the oldest students in Hufflepuff House as well as those all over Hogwarts. Eliza Marlowe has been seen very little around the common room in the past few weeks – she’s mainly been in the Restricted Section of the library, or buried up in the dormitories. But today, the Head Girl seems to have just given up, or given out. She is sprawled sideways in one of the large comfortable armchairs in the common room, her long limbs strewn over the arms and back, and her head draped back over one padded arm. A pile of books is on the floor next to her, knocked over in a sideways tilt, like a row of dominos that has been knocked down, and Eliza appears to be ignoring their presence completely.

Climbing carefully through the portrait hole, Olivia has her nose stuck in a book, one that appears to be a new one. The girl appears to be so enthralled in it that she does not, in fact, look where she’s going. This causes a dangerous situation, and given the pile of books on the floor, does not bode well. It is only moments before she comes up to it and loses her balance as she walks into the pile. Her own book goes flying across the room and slides across the floor, while Olivia throws her hands out, in an attempt to break her fall. “Ooof!” is all she says, on hands and knees as she detangles herself Eliza’s books and tries to get herself upright again. “Oh, no…”

“What?” Righting herself in a pinwheeling spin of long arms and legs, Eliza springs into alertness again at the sudden sound of the crash, and her mouth opens in surprise and horror as she sees the younger girl sprawled on the ground. “Oh, bollocks!” Eliza exclaims – and then catches herself, hastily backtracking with “Oh, bother! Sorry! Baxtor, are you all right?” Despite the fatigue she had been showing a moment before, Eliza vaults up to her feet at once, and bends swiftly down to help Olivia up. “All my fault,” she declares, putting her hands on the younger girl’s shoulders. “Shouldn’t have left my things out like that.”

“I’m alright,” Olivia tells her, but still looks down, holding the bottom of her skirt. “My skirt tore,” she comments. And, indeed, there is a horizontal rip in her skirt, about four inches long. “No, no, Miss Eliza, I should’ve watched where I was going. It’s just the book is so good.” She doesn’t seem concerned where her book has gone, though, as her eyes do not move from the tear in her skirt. It almost seems that tears are welling up in her eyes as she stands stock-still, merely staring at the torn garment.

“What?” Eliza says again, blinking down at the younger girl in worried confusion. “No, Baxtor, it’s all right,” she protests, searching Olivia’s increasingly distraught expression for clues as to the cause of her distress. “Completely my fault. Shouldn’t have left those where people could trip over them. Don’t worry! Who isn’t distracted by books these days?” Eliza‘s laugh is just a little too hearty, as she struggles to counteract Olivia’s tears and her own stressed weariness. “Not hurt, are you?” is her next attempt, as she peers more closely at the younger girl.

“No, I’m not hurt,” she reiterates and reaches up and wipes a tear away before it has a chance to fall. “It’s just…” She seems to hesitate a moment. “My skirt.” Olivia holds up the skirt a little more, causing some snickers from a group of girls nearby, to whom she glares. “It must have ripped when I fell.” The girl looks up at Eliza, looking as if this is possibly the biggest tragedy that could befall her at this moment in time. “I don’t know any way to fix it. I haven’t learned those charms well enough yet.” She pauses. “Last time I tried, my swatch broke into pieces like porcelain.”

“Oh, is that all?” Relief is Eliza‘s first reaction, and a wider, truer smile spreads across her face – but then she catches sight of Olivia’s stricken expression, and worry returns, making her own expression serious again. “Look. If that’s all you’re worried about, I can help with a Reparo or two,” she offers, reaching out to give the younger girl a gentle, reassuring thump on the shoulder. “Is it…a favorite of yours?” Eliza ventures. She gives Olivia another searching look, faintly confused as she probes for clues to the cause of her housemate’s extreme reaction.

“Well, er…” Olivia comments, and clearly doesn’t know how to answer this. “I like all my clothes,” she answers honestly, looking at Eliza with a perplexed expression on her face, wiping her eyes with the other hand. “I just try so hard to keep them clean and neat and I don’t get new ones very often and this I got for Christmas from my grandmum and…” Olivia trails off, looking down at the rip and then pausing. “Can you really fix it so that it doesn’t show the rip anymore?” The girl bites her lip and runs one hand along the rip, holding it out with one hand.

There is still a decided aura of confusion coming from the Head Girl, with her straggling ponytail, and slightly tattered brown Puddlemere United jersey showing at the collar of her unbuttoned robes. But Eliza gives Olivia a smile of sympathetic acceptance, if not complete comprehension, and nods. “Good as new. I promise.” She reaches out to give the younger girl another friendly thump on the shoulder, and drapes herself back over the chair, swooping down to get a better look at the hem. Eliza fumbles around in the pockets of her robe for a moment, and comes up with a handkerchief and her wand – she hands the former to Olivia, with a crooked, comforting grin. “Here. I’ll just be a minute.”

Taking the handkerchief, Olivia dabs at her face awkwardly as Eliza thumps her on the shoulder. “Oof,” she responds quietly to this and rolls her shoulder. No, Olivia is not delicate, and could not claim to be such even if she wanted to, but it still takes her by surprise. “I still need some practice at mine. I’m hoping I can master it so that I can make my own clothes and then my parents won’t have to buy me clothes anymore.” The girl watches Eliza and reaches down to hold her skirt out again to help the older girl in any way she can.

“Oh, it’s just a Reparo,” Eliza says with a shrug and another grin, as she starts to get her wand into position. “Don’t think I’ve ever tried making my own clothes. Although I bet you could, with enough conjuring charms and the like. Good idea for something to work on in future.” Eliza leans forward, carefully putting her hand on the other side of Olivia’s, and narrows her eyes to examine the tear. “Oh, this isn’t bad at all. Reparo!” With a flick of her wand and a decisive incantation, Eliza lets the spell go, and in a few seconds, the skirt has bound itself up again, leaving only a few straggling threads to indicate where the rip once was.

“Oh, thank you,” Olivia replies, looking down at her skirt quietly, now merely clutching the handkercheif without a comment. It is a long moment, though, while she continues to stare down at it and then she blushes a bit, looking back at Eliza. “Isn’t it possible to take the strings off so nobody could tell that it’s been ripped?” the girl asks quietly, looking down quickly. “I mean, thank you, so much, for helping me, I shouldn’t be ungrateful.” Her voice is quiet as she says this and she bites her lip, looking back up at Eliza, red-faced.

“What, those?” Eliza nods down at the few stray threads. “‘Course, if you like.” There is still a faint air of incomprehension about the Head Girl’s manner, but she takes Olivia’s concern in stride with another shrug and a crooked, reassuring grin. Eliza slides backwards into the chair again, kicking her feet out to push herself backwards against the cushions as she considers the mended skirt. “You could just get ‘em with scissors if you want. Or you could do a Cutting Charm, if you need practice with that. You’ve gotten those by now, haven’t you?”

“Oh, right, scissors. I could ask the Muggle Studies teacher if I can use them,” she comments quietly, looking down at her skirt and then finally letting it go. “We did cutting charms in first year,” Olivia remarks quickly, uncrumpling the handkercheif in her hand and folding it up carefully before glancing around. “Did you see where my book went?” she asks the older girl, holding out the handkercheif to return it. After all, she’s only barely used the thing. “I was just getting to the really interesting part.” She smiles ever so softly as she sais this and looks around Eliza’s books carefully, though given the trajectory of the fall, even Olivia seems to think it unlikely that the book will have fallen there.

“Why not get a bit more practice on Cutting Charms, then?” Eliza replies, with another, easier grin. She reaches out to take the handkerchief, stuffing it back into her pocket and following it up with her wand, then cranes her neck back to look over the edge of the chair at the floor, searching for the book. “Oh, there it is,” she says, unfurling a long arm to point at it, lying open and face-down several feet away. “What were you reading?” Eliza steps easily over her own fallen pile of books – mostly advanced Charms texts today, their covers shimmering with elaborate decorative patterns etched into the leather – and heads over towards Olivia’s book to retrieve it.

“Oh, Cutting Charms are easy, though. I need more practice with scissors before I can really work out how muggles go using them so often.” Olivia shrugs a bit. “Oh, oh, good,” she sighs, seeming relieved that it hasn’t miraculously changed directions and ended up in the fire. “It’s called…” Olivia has to pause a moment trying to remember the name, but she does not look at the cover of the book as she takes it in hand. “Oh, right, A Tale of Two Cities, by that Dickens fellow.” She pauses and sits down, careful to make sure her skirt does not wrinkle in the process. “It’s about the Muggle French Revolution.” She beams as she says this and tries very hard not to look down at her skirt, though her fingers do reach down to twine one around her index finger.

“Ha! Thought it looked like a Muggle book,” Eliza declares, with a triumphant flash of a grin as she passes the book over. “Haven’t read this one. Looks. . . rather rough going, if you know what I mean. Most of Dickens does.” Eliza vaults backwards across the arm of the chair, plunking down on the seat with her legs still dangling over the cushioned arm. “Did you get it for class?” she asks, reaching lazily down to shove her books into a pile that is slightly less obstructive, if equally messy. “I’ve found it awfully hard to get Muggle books shipped up here. . .”

“Oh, I enjoy it! I love the stories he tells…” The girl trails off as she says this and giggles a bit. “My friend lent it to me. She’s a muggleborn, and she brings a whole lot of books with her to school and things.” Olivia pauses. “Though, I won’t have to ask her for books anymore, because I’ve found some that are at the school.” Olivia certainly looks pleased at this, but the smile fades just a bit from her face as she realizes what she’s admitted. “But only when I’m at school. When I’m at home, I suppose I’ll still have to see if I can’t borrow any.” The girl shrugs and leans back. “What kind of books do you like better, if you don’t like these kinds?”

“Muggle books? Here?” Interest is the only emotion that Eliza shows in response to Olivia’s information – she lifts her head up off the arm of the chair, and raises her eyebrows in curiosity. “I’ll have to – huh. Guess I won’t have time to look for ‘em.” Eliza catches herself halfway through the sentence, and a brief ripple of unhappiness flows over her expressive face as she realizes once again how little time she has left at Hogwarts. She swallows, tosses her head to clear away the emotion, and pushes ahead, “Well. Good on you, finding them, then. And – oh, have I got any of mine around here?” Eliza cranes her neck to look down at her pile of books again, and shrugs. “Guess not. Well, I found these smashing adventure books – all about voyages in the Himalayas and pirate ships and things. Did a project on ‘em for class, even.” A spark of excitement lights her eyes, and her grin turns up again. “I could lend you some, if you want, once you’re done with that one.”

“Oh, adventure books… well, they aren’t really my favorite,” Olivia comments, biting her lip a bit and looking down at the book she’s got. “Are they gorey at all?” she asks, nevertheless. After all, she’ll be trying out Dracula soon, won’t she? Olivia pauses as she realizes that the term is coming to a close soon, which means that Eliza won’t be there much longer. “What are you doing after you leave school? Aren’t you frightened at going?” Olivia leans back in her seat a bit and tucks her feet up next to her. “I’m sure I’d be nervous. I don’t even know what I want to do.”

“A bit of blood in some of ‘em,” Eliza says, with a casual shrug and a toss of her head. Then she hesitates, her mouth screwing up in evident thought as she reconsiders, and admits, “Well, quite a bit, I s’pose. I’ll see if I can find one without too much for you,” she adds, brightening again. The thought of leaving Hogwarts diminishes Eliza‘s grin yet again, and she lets out a long deep sigh, folding her arms back to cushion her head on them. “Not frightened, exactly. I mean, I don’t want to go, but it’ll be all right.” There’s something of Eliza‘s usual bravado in her voice as she shrugs off the thought, but her eyes take on a sparkle of excitement as she continues, “And I’ve got plans already. I’m apprenticing with the Obliviators.”

“Oh, isn’t that terribly hard? I’m sure I wouldn’t be able to.” Olivia pauses and considers that. “Though, I suppose we can’t all be good at everything.” It stands to wonder what has put the usually worrisome girl into such good spirits. “And, I suppose if it isn’t too gorey, I could read it. I’m not fond of the blood or anything. I really like the happy stories.” She pauses. “I’m hoping this one ends up happy. So far it’s not all that happy.” She shrugs as she says this, though, seeming to think more about the obliviators than the books. “Do the Obliviators work with the aurors, then, and go on missions with them? The dangerous ones, I mean.”

“Hope so,” Eliza replies, the sparkle intensifying to a gleam, and a grin of anticipation spreading across her face. “I mean, it’s mostly going out into the Muggle world to take care of routine Memory Charms and the like,” she admits. “Muggles who’ve seen people flying on brooms, magical items that have found their way into Muggle junk shops, that sort of thing.” Slight disappointment about the mundanities of the job dims Eliza‘s grin, but she brightens again as she adds, “But I’ve heard that sometimes we do get to work with the Aurors and the other departments on big things. There was this fire-breathing dog a couple years ago – that must have been some fun, to track down people who’d seen that!”

“Oh, my…” Olivia comments, staring for a moment. “Why do people do that to muggles? I mean, they can’t help that they haven’t got magic. It seems so cruel to give them magic things or to do magic in front of them when they can’t help it.” She sighs a bit, and it is clear that she has perhaps learned something from the Muggle Studies classes. “Does it hurt, do you think, to be obliviated? Or maybe their head just aches a bit after.” She pauses thinking about this and sets her book down. “After all, it’s altering your memory some, so perhaps your memory would hurt a little after, just because it’s missing things now.” Olivia seems curious about this now and sits forward a bit. “I wonder if there are books about that. Do you think?”

A quieter sort of smile comes to Eliza‘s face, and she nods approvingly in response to Olivia’s compassionate questions. “Most of ‘em happen by accident,” she explains. “It’s pretty hard to come up with a flight path that doesn’t go over some Muggles somewhere, especially if you’re going in and out of London or Manchester or somewhere big. And you can’t control animals and that sort of thing. They’ve pretty much given up trying to obliviate all the Muggles in Scotland who’ve seen the Loch Ness Monster.” Eliza speaks with the authority of the newcomer – even if she hasn’t really started working with the Obliviators yet, she is absolutely confident of the two or three facts that she knows. “But you’re right – it’s not sporting to send things out to Muggles who can’t deal with it. And. . . Memory Charms don’t hurt, really. Little headache sometimes, if a lot’s been taken out. Professor did ‘em on us in class a few months ago – said we weren’t ready to do ‘em on each other, but we needed to know what it felt like. There are loads of books on Memory Charms – you’ll get some of the basics in OWL class next year, I think.”

“Well, I suppose I won’t worry about it, then. It would be awful if muggles got hurt because of it.” Olivia picks up her book again and licks her lips, as if in anticipation. “I hope I haven’t lost my place,” she comments aloud, and though it appears she’s about to settle in to reading her book again, she puts it down and looks at Eliza again. “Are the OWL exams terribly hard? I do so want to pass them, and I’m going to have to start studying now if they’re going to be very hard. I’m not very good at some classes.” She bites her lip as she says this and leans against the armrest on the chair. “Evan told me that I shouldn’t worry, but I’ve heard some fifth years talking about how hard they were, and how poorly they thought they’d done.”

“They were…er…” There is clearly an internal battle going on for Eliza – the reassuring smile she attempts to keep on her face is continually being weakened by the uneasy memory of her own OWLs. Lying isn’t a possibility, so… “Well, that is, they were…er…There’s a lot to ‘em,” she eventually settles on. “If you work hard, though, you’ll definitely pass,” Eliza adds, confidence returning. “Don’t need to start studying now – you won’t even know what sorts of things they’re looking for till you get back in the fall. Just keep up working next year, and it will all turn out right.”

“Well… alright. I just want to do well, is all,” Olivia admits, turning to look away and around the commonroom, which seems to be full of more mirth and mischeif than usual, being almost the end of term. Glancing up at a clock, Olivia gasps audibly. “Oh, no, I’m supposed to meet someone now!” uncurling hre legs from the seat, she stands up and seems to have forgotten about the strings on her skirt as she smooths it down. “I’ll see you later?” she comments to Eliza, and then carefully picks up her book, stepping over Eliza’s stack of books. And within moments she has slipped out of the commonroom again, the only sound left of her being the clicking of her shoes as she walks quickly down the hall.

Rhian Brecon settles into her announcing chair and does a quick test to make sure that everything is working properly and she can be heard. “Good afternoon boys and girls, Professors and staff. Today is a wonderful and beautiful day, perfect for the last Quidditch match of the 1926-27 school year. Today, we have a battle against two excellent houses, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff. These two teams have managed to win both of their previous games this year and so making them tied, point for point for the Quidditch Cup, and so this match will determine which House walks away with the Quidditch Cup this year. This match is being refereed by Professor Walsh, our Herbology Professor. And now we merely wait for the two teams to take the field and to get this match underway.”

For the last week, the captain of the Hufflepuff Quidditch team has been in constant motion, bouncing from practice to practice in a blur of manic energy. Today, Eliza Marlowe is wearing the same grin that she has worn throughout the period leading up to the big game, but her eyes are serious as she looks around at her team for the last time. “Right,” she says, her strident voice as firm as ever, but with a low quiver of intensity behind it. “This is it. This is for the Cup.” Eliza looks slowly around the circle of faces. “This is what we’ve been working for this all term. We’re going to go out there and play a good game. If we win, we win cleanly. If we lose, we lose cleanly.” A different kind of quiver enters Eliza‘s voice as she mentions the possibility of losing, but she pushes ahead. “You’ve been a good team. You’ve worked hard. Now get out there and play your best.” Eliza gives her team one last crooked grin. “Good luck,” she says, and slings her broom over her shoulder to head out for the handshake that will start the match.

Alexandra Leong looks distracted as she strolls onto the pitch, broom in hand, canary yellow Quidditch robes hanging loosely, her straight black hair contained in a rough ponytail. She nods at her Captain’s little speech, making very little eye contact with her teammates. This is it, and for the Hufflepuff Seeker, the pressures are nearly overwhelming. She shifts her grip on her broom, then starts to twirl a stray strand of hair between her fingers, a nervous gesture she’s had since before her Hogwarts and Quidditch days.

Striding out to the center of the pitch, Noémie‘s face is set in a serious expression as she looks around. The stands seem to be buzzing even louder than usual on this occasion of the Quidditch Cup. The captain and seeker holds her broom down in her hand and glances around, standing off from where the Hufflepuffs are to line up before she turns to look at her teammates. “Gather ’round here,” she calls to them, clearly ready to give them a talking-to, though how harsh she will be today is a matter of some uncertainty. The cool air seems to be causing goosebumps along her arms as she waits for her team to join her.

Contrary to Noémie’s stony expression, Tegan stomps onto the pitch, looking almost angry as she settles herself near to Noémie. Riley follows just behind her, not looking quite as angry, and Tegan almost yanks him to stand next to her. “Don’t screw up today,” she hisses at the younger student, her eyes staring into his face as she says this, until he nods affirmative. The girl stands next to Noémie and crosses her arms over one another with her broom in hand and waits to see what the captain will have to say.

Rooted to the place she’s standing while listening to Eliza’s speech, Carrie stares straight at her captain with something of a determined expression having descended upon her face after Eliza finishes up. Nodding definitively as the captain goes to shake hands, Carrie, somewhat nervously, switches her broom from her right hand to her left as she takes a few tense steps ahead. She makes a point of not looking at Marybeth, but glances down to Alexandra shortly before looking to Eldric, nodding once more.

Leaning in close with the rest of her team Marybeth has her broom clutched tightly in one hand listening intently to Eliza’s pep-talk. When the captain finishes Marybeth grins and adds. “This is for all the marbles! …. No really I’ve got a big bag of marbles I’ll split them up if we win.” Yes it was a lame stab at humor but it was lighthearted and isn’t that just the Hufflepuff way? The chaser grins a final time with a small laugh bolstering her courage before she begins doing her stretches. You always want to be nice and limber for when you are playing the most exciting game ever!

Standing a little apart from his fellow Chasers, Albert Bryce listens to the captain’s speech with rapt attention…or, perhaps, nervously glazed eyes…or, perhaps, an extremely determined effort not to look at Eldric. At any rate, he’s staring straight at Eliza through the whole thing, nodding every so often, his hand wrapped so tightly around his broom that his knuckles show white.

Charlie Linwood stands, in freshly laundered robes, with a freshly polished broom, in front of Eliza, listening seriously to her speech. This is it. “For the Cup.” he croaks back, voice belying the nerves that have settled in at the last moment. It is, after all, true. If they win this the Quidditch Cup belongs to Hufflepuff… for the first time in how long? Charlie stands unnaturally firm, though he seems to force his face into a sick grin. Today of all days it is important he not accidentally hit his team instead of the other.

Bailey Williams walks out to the pitch, broom in hand, smiling and ready to retrieve the best performance of the year from himself. Stopping at the group of teammates, he addresses Tegan with a short grin and leans on his broom, waiting for his captain’s speech.

Clavicle Gravely trots out. Sort of the clown of the team, he stops in front of the Ravenclaw stands and flaps his arms, “GO RAVENCLAW!” he slings the broom, the sandsweeper 25 over his shoulder and trots over to Noémie. His robes ripple around him in the wind as he looks to the captain.

A feeling of nostalgia sweeps over Van as she makes her way out to the pitch, standing in group with her team and glancing only momentarily at the Hufflepuff team making their shouts before turning her attention forward again. It is her last match at Hogwarts, and Van seems to have to wipe a tear away as she thinks of this, taking a deep breath of the cool air and looking up into the sky. A nice clear day, perfect weather for the determinative match for the Quidditch Cup.

Eldric Carver still has a bandaged up neck, and as possibly the largest member of the team and thus the biggest target, also sports two furry purple horns like a goat’s and, barely visible under his robes, an abundance of bright pink arm hair. “I’ll get it fixed after, doesn’t change how I play!” was his reponse when he turned up to the changing rooms with these anamolies, and now he stands trying to look serious while marked by some clever but, fortunately for the casters, anonymous hexes. For a moment, he glowers over at the blue-clad players, but then nods (and grunts a bit) to his Captain’s speech and tightens his grip on both his broom and bat without a word.

“I’ve been nice this season before matches. I’ve not demanded that we win, and yet we managed to pull out wins against Gryffindor and Slytherin. Let’s keep this up and manage a win today. Let’s get that cup, because we deserve it.” Noémie‘s face is focussed and set, and her expression as she glances to Hufflepuff is almost annoyed. “We’re not going to do any stupid chanting or pep talks, because I think we have the technical skill to manage this. So, let’s pull it off. I know we can do it.” With a nod, she offers a rather strained smile to her team and turns to face the Hufflepuff team, walking forward to prepare for the handshake. Her face is stony and set as she does this, as if showing emotion to the Hufflepuff captain during the handshake will put her at a disadvantage.

Clavicle Gravely looks over to David, as David comes out as well. Today David is in serious mode. His broom is clipped and polished and he comes up to Noémie as well.

Keelan Walsh looks absolutlely disgusting in yellow, so her robes are black instead. It could almost be called unbiased, except for the yellow ribbon she’s laced around the end of her broom (Which lies next to the box of Quidditch balls). A closed expression surfaces as she watches, in a strange, detatched way, the teams chat a bit. She straightens her shoulders when it seems they’ve had enough time, clears her throat and says, “Captains? Shake hands, everyone else? You might want to get in place to start if you’re not.” Her voices rises, though still likely inaudible to the watchers. “While this game may determine which team has the glory of the Quidditch Cup,” a smirk, soft, “I want it clean. If I have to call any fouls for roughness or underhanded tactics,” she seems to look at the Ravenclaws more, though they haven’t any more record of the behavior than the Hufflepuffs, “I will not hesistate to award as many penalty shots as possible or to ground the off ending players.” Serious as stone, now, she turns to gather up the Quaffle, but doesn’t throw it yet.

At the center of the pitch, Eliza reaches a steady hand out to Noémie, and gives her Ravenclaw counterpart a firm nod. “Good luck,” she says, with complete sincerity, and even a fainter version of the crooked smile that she gave to her own team.

Noémie‘s face barely breaks its expression as Keelan makes these comments, seemingly entirely in the direction of her own team, and then nods at Eliza, giving her a stiff handshake and withdrawing her hand as quickly as she has offered it for the traditional handshake. Noémie does not say anything in response, merely nodding again and making her way back to the line of her team to make way for the chasers to vie for the Quaffle.

Readying herself to take off into the air, Carrie takes a few cleansing breaths as she looks to her feet and prepares to play a hard game. She is only vaguely aware, somehow, when she looks up to see the two captains shaking hands. Looking avidly to Keelan and the Quaffle, Carrie takes a firm grasp on her broom and waits.

Nodding firmly after the speech, Bailey looks and walks over to Clavicle and David. Clapping into his hands he urges them on. “Let’s go guys, I want to drink a good amount of butterbeer out of that cup, when this is finished.” Then he steps into position and readies himself to shoot up for the quaffle.

Making her way to get into position as the captains shake hands Marybeth is primed and ready…. if not completely nervous. She flashes a friendly smile Eldric’s way despite his shocking appearance while Professor Walsh makes her statement. She takes a deep breath and readies herself mounting her broom waiting for word to start.

Charlie Linwood moves rather mechanically to his proper spot, bringing down his broom and lifting one leg over it to stand like a muggle child with a broom for a pony, feet still on the ground. Holding his broom one-handed as he has learned to, he holds his bat-hand in the air at what could be a menancing angle if only he didn’t look so ridiculous standing and waiting. Perhaps if he didn’t look as though he might be sick it would help as well.

Tegan uncrosses her arms and crosses them again, doing this over and over until Riley finally reaches over and snatches at her arms, forcing them to hang at her sides for the time being. Tegan glares in his direction as she stands this way, and stands on her tiptoes to see what Bailey is doing, and whether he even notices her. No, Tegan! Now is not the time to get distracted. The girl manages to shake the thought out of her head and she watches for the whistle, putting her broom in a position to be able to take off for the bludgers as soon as she can.

Alexandra Leong hops onto her broom and stands ready to take off. Her gloved hands fiddle nervously with the polished handle of her broom, rubbing at none existent smudges and scratches. “We have to win we have to win we have to win…” she mutters to herself, her face scrunched with with anxiety.

Van seems to still be trying to stifle the tears that want to fall from her eyes, and she waves rather discreetly towards the Gryffindor bleachers, a smile spreading over her face. Then she seems to realize the gravity of the situation, and she rolls her shoulders a bit, rotating her arms as if to limber herself up for the shots that might come her way over the course of what promises to be a very exciting match.

Clavicle Gravely straddles the Sandsweeper and gets ready to take flight. The Egyptian broom is ready, polished and trimmed. He looks determinedly to Bailey. “Lets hope the pratices paid off then. ” he grins, having spent quite a few days in practices with Bailey getting passes down and all. David is ready as well. He looks to Noémie and Tegan and gives a thumbs up, then turns to watch the release of the quaffle.

Eldric Carver tries a smile at Marybeth, but it seems the final Quidditch match of the season, one which is so important, has drained most of his flirtatious spirit. Moving into position, his eyes fix on Professor Walsh expectantly, legs already pushing down a bit in anticipation of take-off. Unlike Charlie, he manages to look somewhat imposing with his bat lofted, as long as nobody notices, in the slip of his robes, the arm hair, or that his horns have a bit of sparkle to them. Really.

Keelan Walsh pauses, still holding the Quaffle, to release the latch that holds the Snitch in it’s own compartment. The golden ball flies out, hovers for a second, and then soars upward erratically, as if unsure how it will fly today. Turning, now, the Herbology professor straightens. With one last look at the teams (is that the tinyest of smiles toward both?), she brings the whistle to her lips, lofts the Quaffle skyward with a strange amount of force, considering it’s one handed, and blows. With one shrill note, the Cup game has begun.

As the whistle blows, Noémie pushes off the ground and flies high up into the air as fast as she can manage. If she is high up where she can see the action, she figures she will be better suited towards catching the snitch quickly. At this point, the little gold ball is out of sight, unable to be seen from where she is high above the pitch. However, as the match has just begun, Noémie does not appear nervous at this.

Glancing momentarily at Riley, Tegan kicks off the ground and flies up, brandishing her bat in her right hand. Her arm is reared back, as if there is a bludger to be hit already, despite that the bludgers have not yet been released. “Remember, Riley! AIM!” She calls to her very sullen-looking teammate as she flies to the other side of the pitch as he is at. Riley, for his own part, makes his way towards the center, watching Keelan carefully for the release of the bludgers.

With all her speed Marybeth is up in the air gunning toward the quaffle, her expression determined losing it’s usual carefree expression. With an outstretched hand she hopes to grab it before any of the Ravenclaw chasers do. As she draws closer Marybeth pushes herself to go faster and faster until she is close enough to try and make a grab for the quaffle plucking it out of the air like so much ripe melon! The girl begins flying with all her speed down pitch ready to play he heart out in this one.

In a flash, Eliza is in the air and soaring swiftly towards the goalposts, taking up her position as Keeper. Her eyes narrow, keeping close watch on the Quaffle as she edges from side to side, covering as much space as she can. “Good luck!” Eliza shouts. “Go for it, Campbell! You’ve got it!”

Rhian says, “The two teams have come out of their respective lockers, words are exchanged among them, obviously encouraging words from the Captains to their own teams. The two Captains, Seeker Noémie Ribouet for Ravenclaw and Keeper Eliza Marlowe for Hufflepuff, come to the center were Professor Walsh waits for them, which they give their starting handshakes before the two teams take their starting positions. Professor Walsh releases the Snitch before it goes zooming off, then one last look at the teams, she blows the whistle and tosses the Quaffle into the air. The game has started. Cambell manages to get a hold of the Quaffle off the toss-up for Hufflepuff as the bludgers are also released. The Hufflepuff Chasers take the Quaffle and head down to the Ravenclaw goals, the Ravenclaws working on keeping up with them.”

Van is already up in the air when the quaffle is caught by a Hufflepuff chaser, and this causes the Keeper to fly even quicker towards the hoops, readying herself quickly. Perhaps she ought to have spent less time in practice goofing off. The seventh year is stationed in front of the hoops, however, and she holds her arms up, balancing carefully on the broom as she looks out at the clump in the middle of the field, keeping her eye mostly on the chaser with the quaffle.

Bolting into the air as the professor tosses the quaffle up and blows the whistle, Carrie is off with quick reflexes. The girl notes Marybeth’s better positioning to snatch the thing and veers left, out of her way. Seeing her catch out of the corner of her eye, Carrie flits towards the Ravenclaw goalposts, turning around after having gotten a bit closer to them, her arms outstretched. “Marybeth!”

Alexandra Leong kicks off hard and scrambles towards the snitch, but it vanishes within seconds. Grumbling, the small Hufflepuff climbs rapidly, stopping a dozen feet above the rest of the players, scanning the entire pitch for signs of the erratic little golden ball that is her query. “Come to Hufflepuff…” she says in a small voice… “I’m wearing yellow, see? We could be friends, little snitch…” This recent bout of talking to objects (inanimate or otherwise) appeared last week, after speaking with a teacup resulted in a successful transfiguration of said teacup into a skittering spider-like creature. She pays almost no attention to Noémie, at least for the moment.

Clavicle Gravely shoots for the sky in the swarm of chasers shooting up after the Quaffle. His robes wip around him and he looks determined, but he is not in the lead today, as he had a bad shove off at the get go. He sees Marybeth get the quaffle to begin with and instead tries to get into a better position to harry the Hufflepuff on the way to the rings. David shoots up as well to prepare to try to steal the Quaffle as well. The two split to try to come at the Hufflepuff girl from both sides to force her away from the rings if successful.

Keelan Walsh watches for a minute and then, quickly, frees the bludgers, ducking under them as they move at first of their own speed, with the seeming joy these inanimate objects always seem able to express at freedom. One bludger heads up at almost a straight line, detouring at last toward Bailey, though the course is random. Of course, a bludger doesn’t focus on one person. The other bludger moves skyward toward Alexandra, as if aware(though of course it is not) that the other went for a Ravenclaw. For her part, Keelan mounts her broom and begins the slow, careful circling of the pitch, eyes darting here and there with a strange intensity, alert for fouls.

Seeing Marybeth moving forward to catch the Quaffle, Albert moves to take up a supporting position. One hand out to catch the ball if Marybeth decides to pass, Albert starts to maneuver himself carefully between David and Marybeth, trying to prevent the opposing Chaser from intercepting any passes. Albert aims a quick, wary glance over his shoulder at David, keeping a careful eye on his Ravenclaw counterpart.

With the sound of the whistle Bailey kicks off and rushes towards the quaffle. Seeing that Marybeth has an advantage, he accelarates even harder, trying to tip it out of her hand. But as the Hufflepuff grabs the ball, Bailey zooms up, performing a hard turn to chase the carrier. He notices his fellow chasers approaching her from both sides and keeps follow her closely.

Spying that one bludger is headed toward one of her own chasers, Tegan begins to fly toward it quickly, her bat brandished. “Heads up, Bailey!” she calls to him, to warn him of the danger he’s in in case she should be too slow to get to it. Thankfully, Tegan catches up to the bludger fast enough to be able to give it a whack, sending it directly toward Marybeth in hopes of dislodging the Quaffle from Hufflepuff posession. Riley watches for the moment, as he is not entirely motivated to go save the other team’s seeker from being hit by a quaffle.

Charlie Linwood is in the sky as soon as the whistle blows, though he sort of hovers below the rest of the teams, waiting for the release of the bludgers. As they are, he notes the one that hurtles toward Alexandra, and makes pace to stop it, bat brandished two-handed like the club it is. Coming level, he looks, briefly, for a flash of blue, and smacks the ball away from his team and toward–it looks like Tegan. Oops. Never hit a bludger at the opposite beater, Charlie.

Flying as fast as her broom will take her Marybeth is well aware of the three Ravenclaws on either side of her and looks hastily down the pitch while maneuvering a bit snakily to avoid them. A great smile comes to her face as her savior Carrie is spotted and with a great heave Marybeth sends the quaffle hurtling toward her fellow chaser down the pitch with a yell of excitement “Carrie!” It is unfortunate however that the moment the quaffle left her hand Marybeth was struck in the side by bludger hit by Tegan and nearly slips off of her broom before catching herself. Well she seems alright for now.

Eldric Carver is off toward the bludger Charlie hits before he spots Charlie doing so as well and makes a wide, banking turn to avoid redundancy. The redirected bludger is spotted, but of course he’s farther from it than he should be and doesn’t make it in time to save Marybeth. “Sorry!” escapes as he zips past to redirect it from his own Chasers–toward Clavicle goes the bludger, at the sound of Eldric‘s bat. The horns seem to quiver, but of course they can’t be. Too small.

Wincing as Marybeth takes a rather nasty-looking blow from a bludger, Carrie has only a split second in which to compose herself. Doing so, the girl lunges down to receive Marybeth’s pass, managing to catch it using two hands. “Okay!” she exclaims, turning and bolting off in the direction of the Ravenclaw hoops, hoping to make it there before the Ravenclaw chasers can catch her.

Rhian says, “With the bludgers released, a new danger is in the game. One of the bludgers goes after Williams, though Madison manages it to deflect it before it got too close to the Ravenclaw Chaser, hitting it towards Campbell in hoping to get Ravenclaw the Quaffle. The second Bludger has gone after Leong, the Hufflepuff Seeker. Linwood manages to get that Bludger away from Leong, though now it heads toward Madison, possibly a bad move. Campbell notices she’s surrounded by blue and passes the Quaffle to Whittier, just before she gets hit by the Bludger sent by Madison. Carver gets the last of that Bludger and sends it off toward Gravely.”

Wincing at the impact of the Bludger with his teammate’s side, Albert still keeps his focus, and moves ahead to position himself for a pass forward from Carrie. They’ve practiced this dozens of times – Albert keeps his eyes on Carrie, ready for one of her fancy flying tricks. And he keeps on the Quaffle, ready for another pass so that he can bring the ball one step closer to the goal.

Startled that for once a bludger is headed directly towards her, Tegan‘s head seems to quirk a bit, but not for long as she sends the bludger flying to the group of chasers, hoping to hit Carrie this time, as she has already managed to shake up the quaffle’s posession from Hufflepuff a little bit. Riley spots the other bludger flying towards one of the Ravenclaw chasers, and starts flying speedily down toward the group of chasers in hopes of intercepting it before it hits someone. “Look out!” he calls and brandishes his bat out as far as he can manage to try to keep the bludger from hitting. He only barely manages to whack it back in the other direction, at nobody in particular before he has to pull out of the way rather than run into his own teammate.

Clavicle Gravely turns and sees the pass and whips the sandsweeper 25 around. He pours on the speed. The Egyptian broom is built for speed and soon he’s catching up to the hufflepuff, The broom catches up to the other and Clavicle sees David’s broom didn’t quite have the speed to be close enough, so he tries for a steal, He shoves at the Quaffle, and sends it off towards Bailey instead!

Charlie Linwood seems to have taken up protecting Alex, somewhat out of his head at the fact that this leaves Eldric to deal with both bludgers most of the time. He doesn’t get too close to her, but neither does he swoop in to join the main fray. Charlie‘s face has gone about as pale as it is able, though he swings his bat around in a somewhat lunatic way.

Rubbing her side furiously and just hovering in place for a moment Marybeth shakes her head to get over the pain of the blow and get her head back in the game. Again she quickly begins to fly down the pitch this time trailing a bit behind Carrie as a bit of a safety net incase the quaffle needs to be passed backward. This time Marybeth is quite careful to be on the look out for bludgers as well as Ravenclaws…. those things really do hurt. Letting out a cry of frustration as Ravenclaw steals the quaffle, she moves into position flying toward Bailey with aggressive speed.

Eldric Carver does notice Charlie’s abscense as he flies to meet the bludger with his bat. Carrie of all people on the team is under his particular protection (plus he was already right there), and so off the ball goes, this time toward Bailey, given that the Ravenclaw Chaser seems to be in line to take the stolen Quaffle. “Go!” he calls to the Hufflepuff Chasers, not waiting for the ball to get closer.

“Aughhh!” the girl shrieks in aggravation, in echo to Marybeth, as Carrie loses possession of the quaffle. Attempting to trail Marybeth without competing with her, Carrie flies a fair distance behind her. Spotting Albert, Carrie moves to compensate, trying to maximize Hufflepuff’s position for opportunities on the pitch.

Either Alexandra is exceptionally brave, or she just didn’t see the fact that she was quite close to getting creamed by a bludger. Either way, she carries on zooming about the pitch, looking for any sign of the snitch, while starting to keep an eye on Noémie. Her flying is quite solid, although her turns are wide and occasionally wobbly.

Stolen! “Blast!” Albert exclaims. He leans down over the handle of his broom, pushing himself faster to chase after the stolen Quaffle that is now heading towards his own goal. Faster – faster – he zips ahead of first Carrie and then Marybeth. Albert‘s eyes are fixed firmly on the Quaffle in Clavicle’s hand as he speeds forward, his breath quickening as he spurs his broom ever faster.

Hearing Noémie’s call, Bailey ducks on instinct as the bludger passes him and knocks Marybeth in the side. He races towards Carrie now, catching up to her and letting himself drop a bit beneath her, using her as a protection from the approaching bludger. “Watch out, Clavicle.” Bailey calls. But too late, Clavicle has been fast enough to hustle the quaffle out of Carrie’s possession. Swooping down to finally catch it, then forming up with Clavicle and David to initiate the offence, Bailey calls “David! Left!” and dashes the quaffle over his shoulder towards David at a good speed and just manages to avoid the bludger in time, hoping that he’ll get knocked away soon.

Riley has stayed near his teammates and is ready to meet the bludger, rearing his bat back and giving it a hard whack up towards Alexandra, despite the fact that Charlie appears to be guarding her closely. The bludger flies off and gratefully Riley turns his attention back to his chasers. The other bludger seems to have veered off its course that Tegan sent it off on, and the girl flies towards it to try and prevent it from hitting her own seeker, catching up to it quickly. Soon, Tegan has whacked the bludger back towards the group of chasers, aimed right towards Albert.

Clavicle Gravely races to the side and calls out “YES!” He grins then blanches as a bludger races at him “NO!” He dives trying to get away from the thing but banks…trying to lead it over to the ravenclaw beaters “Assistance!” David hears the call and takes the Quaffle, He chuckles a bit. “That boy is cursed by bludgers. ” he races back towards his scoring hoop!

Faster, faster – Albert flies in a perfect, smooth arc, his hand out to intercept the Quaffle at the peak of its flight – and then with a cry of alarm, he abruptly jerks out of the way as a bludger comes hurtling directly at him. “Aaaaahhh!” Albert manages to escape the bludger, but he is too far away from the Quaffle to even make another try for it. “Blast!” he mutters again, and speeds forward again in a desperate attempt to protect his own goal.

Charlie Linwood snorts. “Hah!” he calls. “That’s not ruddy well going to work!” Really, he’s much too close to Alex (without, you know, being so close as to crowd her) for a bludger to get through. Even in his somewhat panicked state (with a distinct sort of green tinge about the edges), he can at least smack the bludger back toward the Ravenclaws–this time, actually, toward their own Seeker and Captain.

Rhian says, “The Bludgers are getting a beating as Madison now hits one of the Bludgers to the Hufflepuff Chasers in general, while Markham manages to protect his own Chasers and sends that Bludger off to nowhere it seems. Gravely attempts to interfere with the pass to Whittier and knocks the Quaffle off toward Williams in Ravenclaw’s attempts to steal the Quaffle from Hufflepuff. With the Ravenclaw steal, the players move back the other way, though Williams now has a Bludger after him thanks to Carver. Williams tosses the Quaffle back over his shoulder to Mildred as Bryce attempted and failed to steal the Quaffle from the Ravenclaws due to one of the Bludgers getting in the way thanks to Madison. The other Bludger is sent off to Leong by a hit from Markham. Ravenclaw still has the Quaffle and getting awefully close to Marlowe and the goalposts she’s guarding. Linwood manages to intercept the Bludger heading towards Leong and sends it after Ribouet who is seeking the Snitch as well.”

Watching as Albert tries to take the quaffle and fails Marybeth hurries to try and make up for it racing at top speed around Albert and his bludger to make her way behind David. She is a bit behind though and catching up is going to take some doing but that’s what Hufflepuff is good for, trying hard. Marybeth bites down on her lip and really lays into her broom.

Eldric Carver again fails to keep the bludger from one of his Chasers, though mostly because there is only so much flying space, and over half of both teams appear to be attempting to use the same amount. Still, once Albert misses the bludger(or rather, it misses him), it’s an easy enough hit back toward David, nostrils dialated in annoyance. Well, at least continually deflecting the same bludger from and to the same people is something to do. And he does enjoy hitting them. The bludgers, not the people.

Clavicle Gravely recovers and races towards the goal. David is doing well as well, and coming in to the edge of the scoring zone. he suddenly banks right at the scoring zone edge and makes a hand off to Clavicle as the boy races by, Clavicle uses the move he and Bailey practiced a lot. suddenly braking fast and hard, he feints high and shoots at the lower hoop, It’s his first in game scoring attempt.

As David catches safely, Bailey swerves to the left hoop and waves to him, signalling that he’s unguarded. Hovering inches before the zone, he is ready to shoot into it and attempt a score. One fine pass and Ravenclaw would lead in that deciding game. But then the quaffle is tossed to Clavicle, who performed the known manouver. “Come on, Clav…” Bailey mutters and zooms lower to be set up to catch a dropped quaffle or so, watching his teammate attempting the score at the right hoop.

Tegan is ready to leave her seeker to the job she has before her, and then seeing that the bludger has been whacked in her direction, Tegan backtracks a bit, quickly hitting the bludger in the direction of the hoops, hoping that she’ll maybe get it to the Keeper, now that the quaffle is in scoring range so that her team has a chance at scoring. Riley, for his own part, makes his way towards the bludger which is headed toward David, and tries to get a hold on it. Within seconds, he has managed to catch up to it, and whacks it in a direction that he thinks will make it head toward Marybeth, but which instead seems to head down the other direction on the pitch, headed directly toward his own keeper. In a resigned fashion, he begins to fly down to retrieve it an hopefully manage to hit it actually toward a Hufflepuff.

Eldric Carver has banked back somewhat to escape the crowding of Chasers and to keep from entering the scoring zone, a glance sent toward Keelan, but now sees the bludger on it’s way to help and quickly darts into line. There is a massive CRACK as the pink-arm-haired, purple-horn bearing Beater swings back and then forward, this bludger sent chasing after Riley as well. After all, if Riley gets taken out and doesn’t save Van from his own bludger, well, that might be a penalty shot, right?

Throughout the match, Eliza has been hovering a few yards in front of the goalposts, watching the interchange of Quaffle and bludgers, shouting encouragement to her team. “Good! Right, keep it up! Good save, Bryce!” And then, suddenly, the Quaffle is heading towards Eliza, and she is speaking to herself. “Right! Here it comes!” With a little upwards skip, she takes off towards the right-hand goalpost, keeping her eye fixed on the ball. Aiming…aiming…and then WHACK! she spins swiftly to block, hitting the Quaffle away from the goal with a firm smack of the bristles of her broom.

Clavicle Gravely flies stright through the zone and out of the other side. He begins circling back, unlike what some may think, he is not dissapointed he was blocked. Quite the contrary, he looks exstatic he got to try. “I’ll get it next time!” he calls out to Eliza as he circles around laughing, he looks to see where the quaffle is. David never entered the zone, he’s all business, and zips down to assist Bailey to attempt to get the Quaffle.

“Where are you, little snitch?” Alexandra continues to mutter to herself. “Don’t you like me anymore? Come on little snitch… I’ll be gentle…” She’s flying in faster and faster circles now, a sense of desperation and panic raising in her chest. “Snitch snitch snitch… snitch… SNITCH!” A glitter of gold catches the small girl’s eye, and immediate she starts to zoom towards the stands.

Sighing a breath of relief when the Quaffle is deflect Marybeth hurries a bit faster trying desperately to catch up and catch it. She is nearly next to Clavicle and begins racing with him giving him a bit of a glare…. well as much of a glare as a Hufflepuff will muster that is. Her eyes quickly dart forward though onto Bailey.

Tegan flies quickly down the pitch toward the bludger, as she certainly doesn’t want to give Hufflepuff free penalty shots, especially if Van is taken out by it. She manages to get to the bludger in enough time to block it from Riley, and she sends it flying toward Marybeth this time, rather than back toward the keeper. The crowd around the goals causes Tegan to fly back toward it quickly so as to save her own teammates from the bludger if necessary.

“Argh.” Bailey hits his broom and dives for the bounced off quaffle, which just passed him by a few yards. He picks it up, hoping that David and Clavicle got out of the zone quickly enough and rushes towards the left hoop, trying to catch Eliza off guard. “Hewk!” Bailey strikes out and fires the quaffle at the hoop, leaning hard into the shot to give it an enourmous boost. Then he performs a curve and watches the ball rushing for ten points.

Rhian says, “Carver manages to protect his Chasers by sending the Bludger off toward Mildred is passing the Quaffle off toward Gravely to make a scoring attempt. Madison sends one of the Bludgers off to Marlowe, who is intercepted by Carver, which is now going after Marcham, who in turn just sent a Bludger down at his own Keeper, Douglass and is now attempting to intercept it once more. Marlowe protects the goal by knocking the Quaffle away with her broom and while Gravely and Mildred get out of the way, Williams manages to recover the Quaffle to try and score again.”

Riley Markham curses, quiet loudly, as he darts across the pitch after the bludger he sent sailing toward Van. He wasn’t having a terribly good game so far, he thought. Trailing through the sky as fast or faster than the safety regulations for a Windwalker would suggest, he demonstrates a hint of his only real talent, it would seem, on the quidditch pitch — trick flying. Out-running the by fractions, he does his best to position himself between it and the keeper.. only to find Tegan having taken it out from under him. He can’t help but shoot the girl a somewhat angered, narrowed expression. Floating there for a moment with no real purpose, he watches the cluster of people at the other end of the pitch for a long moment before drifting that direction, until he’s lingering around mid-pitch.

Eliza‘s relief at protecting her goal lasts for barely a second before the Quaffle is back in action again. Speeding across the length of the goalposts, Eliza leans down, kicking her heels back as if by doing so, she could make her broom go faster. Closer, closer – Eliza turns outwards, trying to intercept the ball before it can reach the goal It’s to no avail, though – the Quaffle gets to the goalpost a fraction of a second before Eliza does, and it goes through. “Blast it!” she cries, her face crumpling with frustration as the opposing team scores.

Clavicle Gravely does something very odd to Marybeth. he waggles his eyebrows and winks. Clavicle is having the time of his life. He comes up neck and neck with the Hufflepuff girl and pours on the speed, trying to outclass her broom with the egyptian sport model he’s using. He’s racing her. What a cheeky bugger. “Nice hair.” he comments as he pulls ahead a bit. David is racing around back as well. Heading towards the : Quaffle, waiting for it to hit play again!

Spotting that Alexandra has started flying quickly toward something that she herself can’t see, Noémie turns quickly and starts on Alexandra’s path, trying to catch up to the other seeker to hopefully overtake her and snatch the snitch out of the air before her. After several moments, Noémie manages to come up to full speed and comes neck-and-neck with Alexandra, flying perilously close to the girl on her left, trying to keep up as well with the tiny gold ball.

“Aww nuts!” Cries out Marybeth as the Quaffle is scored and Ravenclaw gets in the lead. Worse still that little ravenclaw twig is _hitting_ on her distracting her badly and eliciting another glare. As she turns Marybeth is indeed so distracted that she has no idea that there is a bludger coming right at her until it is far too late. Again poor Marybeth is pummeled this time right in her stomach taking the wind right out of her and probably her lunch too, though wether from the bludger or from the younger boy’s advances is anyone’s guess.

Bailey raises a fist into the air as the quaffle sails through the hoop with a loud “CLONK!” Not saying anything, as the game isn’t decided at all yet, Bailey nods over to his fellow chasers and gets back into formation, peering for a cheer or any other reaction from Tegan, until the game is continued.

Eldric Carver throws Eliza a look, whether sympathetic or annoyed, it’s hard to tell, but either way, he’s distracted from his duties–and then there’s bits of lunch in the air and Eldric swerves hard to the right to avoid being splattered, and misses. Now he’s got purple-and-sandwich colored horns, and bits of partially digested something in his hair. Behold the Hufflepuff’s elder beater’s panic. “Disgusting! Campbell!” Far be it for him to feel sympathy or responsbility, he’s got bits of regurgitated food in his hair. Apparently, far be it for him to remember the closeness of the bludger until it’s almost too late again. Flying erratically, he hits it away-up, really, just far, and continues doing weird circles to get the vomit off without, you know, touching it.

Clavicle Gravely nods to Marybeth. “I had the pea’s for lunch too. by the by…there’s a bludger coming.” he zips off having a laugh. He gives a hands up victory fist to Bailey. “Good show!” He sighs, maybe he can score next time. “I’d stay away from the ham before a game next time though.” David can’t help but go, “Ewh, Gravely…that’s just…gross!”

Gulping back her frustration and anger, Eliza zips behind the goalposts, dipping down to retrieve the fallen Quaffle before it can descend any further. “Blast, blast, _blast_!” she mutters, her expressive face still crinkled in a frown of discontent as she soars back up to the level of the other players, the Quaffle held securely in one hand. Up goes Eliza‘s arm, drawing back to wind up, and then she sends the Quaffle flying in a high, graceful arc over the cluster of people crowded around the Hufflepuff goal with a forceful overhand throw. “Campbell, are you all right?” she calls, a different sort of frown coming to her face as she watches her Chaser’s plight. “Carver! Focus!”

Riley Markham curses, quiet loudly, as he darts across the pitch after the bludger he sent sailing toward Van. He wasn’t having a terribly good game so far, he thought. Trailing through the sky as fast or faster than the safety regulations for a Windwalker would suggest, he demonstrates a hint of his only real talent, it would seem, on the quidditch pitch — trick flying. Out-running the by fractions, he does his best to position himself between it and the keeper. Ultimately, it’s a narrow victory on Riley‘s part. Inching out ahead of his clobbered bludger, he has very little bat-room to swing and his deflection away from Van sents it up high and above the grouped crowd on the end of the pitch, angling up toward the sky. Still, the power he puts behind the hit rather substantial. The sound of the bat cracking against the leather cannonball is echoing. “At least I can do something right!”

Charlie Linwood is startled when Alex begins moving in earnest toward the stands, and looks wildly about himself for signs of the bludgers. Down, he goes, as the bludgers soar upward–”Hey, Carver, what are you playing at?” Charlie missed any Quaffle and/or Gravely induced vomiting, and instead hits the first bludger back down at the group of Ravenclaw Chasers, and turns tail to get to the bludger and aim it again at Noémie. Just a little bit further–CRACK! Well, hopefully it won’t get too near Alex, who he watches with no small amount of trepidition.

Pulling hastily away from the distressed Marybeth – and giving Eldric’s filth-covered form a look that is decidedly less romantic and admiring than any she has given him before – Carrie keeps her focus on the game and races up towards the Quaffle. Looping neatly around Clavicle’s back, Carrie reaches out to snatch up the Quaffle in one hand, holding on to her broom with the other as she speeds towards the Ravenclaw goal. Albert circles around the other way, giving his other teammates a wide berth, and starts flying ahead of Carrie, positioning himself for a forward pass.

Rhian says, “Williams gets back into position and Ravenclaw scores! Ravenclaw has made the first score of the game as it is now Ravenclaw-10, Huffelpuff-0. Marlowe takes the Quaffle and tosses it to one of her own Chasers, Whittier , who with the others heads down the other side of the pitch to try and answer the Ravenclaw swore. The Bludgers come flying back around, one heading towards Campbell which her, once more. See’s she’s having some bad luck today with those Bludgers. The other one Markham manages to deflect from Douglass, sending it off into the sky with quite an amount of force. Linwood manages to get one of the Bludgers, sending it after the Ravenclaw Chasers. What is this? It seems the Seekers have found the Snitch. First it was Leong and Ribouet is after it as well. They are neck and neck as they chase after the Snitch. The match and the cup rely solely on these two ladies as they go after it. Linwood has now sent the second Bludger after Ribouet to try and get her off the chase of the Snitch.”

Both bludgers go flying at once, and Tegan is alarmed to see her seeker targeted once again. She flies quickly toward the bludger in hopes of catching up to it. The seekers are moving very quickly and the girl is having a tough time catching up to the bludger, but she does finally manage to do so, hitting it toward another Hufflepuff chaser with an echoing crack.

Wobbling badly on her broom as the bludger is smacked away by Charlie Marybeth can’t seem to get her broom to go forward even though she is leaning hunched over cursing the sarcastic ravenclaw’s name (which she wished she knew… so she could actually curse at it you know.) she begins sinking toward the ground slowly until she is safely on the grass before collapsing on her side.

Alexandra Leong clenches her teeth as she zooms straight for the stands. Noémie’s presence is not lost on Alexandra. She urges her broom on, gaining a bit of speed, but the quickly upcoming stands forces her to abandon speed for manuverability. The snitch is quite clearly in front of her, a fluttering golden ball, extremely speedy, and extremely erratic. The Hufflepuff Seeker almost slams into a supporting beam holding up the stands as she follows the snitch. Weaving between the various beams, supports, and struts, she tries to keep up, and almost succeeds… until she grazes a beam with her left arm, causing her robes to rip, revealing a deep, argry looking scratch.

Clavicle Gravely was going for the Quaffle as well but Linwood’s well aimed blow sends a bludger at him, His face blanches and he dodges to the side as the cannonball like bludger slams right by him, “Great bones… that thing gave me a shave as it went by… and I don’t have whiskers yet! Markham! A hand!” he zips around to head towards a beater to get the bludger off of him. David banks swiftly and takes off after Carrie to try to Harry her Scary scoring attempt!

Noémie manages to avoid the beam, but is forced to dive a bit and pull back up as she tries to avoid getting hit, pulling forward ever so slightly from Alexandra, but she is still unable to grab onto the tiny gold ball. While they zoom about, avoiding the supports and the beams, and then soon they’re out of the bleachers again, flying now behind them, out of view of the pitch, and thankfully, out of range of the bludgers. The girl’s balance seems off, and her broom begins to veer of its own accord, separating her distance with Alex until she is a full two feet away, though she tries to guide the broom back closer to where the snitch flies. Soon, there is a swift right turn and she follows the snitch back into the stadium, barely missing a beam to the head as she closes the distance between Alex and herself again.

“Campbell!” Eliza shouts. “Get to the nurse! Whittier! Bryce! Spread out! Cover that ground! Only two of you now! Good work, Alex! Keep going!” Either Eliza is no longer feeling the pain of letting the shot go through, or she has gotten too busy with her teammates’ plight to pay much attention to her own emotions. “Come on! Carver, focus! Whittier, watch out behind you! Come on, Alex!”

Charlie Linwood is totally distracted by the disappearance of the Seekers underneath the stands, eyes trying to follow them as he catches glimpses of yellow and blue through the beams–and then there’s Noémie again, and Alex with a cut. “Oi!” Then Charlie seems to remember his duties as a Beater, and spins around to look for the bludgers. Quickly he zooms, rather faster than normal, and the bludger is this time aimed for the Ravenclaw Chasers. He isn’t about to risk putting Alex off track by aiming at Noémie, that’s for certain.

Eldric Carver is very, very distracted by his state of disgustingness, but at the reappearance of Charlie where he belongs there’s a” Took you long enough, Linwood!” and a redoubling of efforts in order to look better. The bludger that missed Clavicle is zoomed toward, now, Eldric‘s expression determined that he get to it before one of the Ravenclaw Beaters can.

Alexandra Leong can’t hear anything but the whistling of the wind past her ears. She’s struggling with her control of her broom; with one arm injured, her turns are becoming less and less controlled. She’s slowing down, little by little, as the pain of her arm starts to register. The snitch is gaining a larger and larger lead on both Seekers, and it threatens to disappear into the sky once more. “Come on come on come on…” Alexandra mutters as she flattens herself further on her broom, hoping to gain speed and control.

Following their captain’s instructions, Carrie and Albert split off, veering sharply towards opposite sides of the field while Carrie accelerates, struggling to move past Clavicle. Albert, too, tries to maintain his speed as he spins off from Carrie – but a bludger is whistling towards him, and he lets out a yelp and wheels even further to the side, sending himself spinning into a barrel roll. Charlie saves him from the bludger, but vertigo is another story – Albert shakes his head quickly to clear it. From far ahead of him, Carrie still has time to laugh, “Leave the fancy flying to me, Albert!” as she speeds ever faster.

“Argh!” Tegan hollers as Clavicle shouts about the bludger, doing her best to go and intercept the one headed toward her chasers now. “Let’s pull close!” she suggests to Riley, flying in toward her team as fast as she can manage and rearing her bat back. The girl is soon amidst the thick of things, her bat held high as she whacks the bludger quickly toward Albert this time, trying to knock out as many opposing chasers as she can manage. “Get the other, would you?” she calls to Riley and bites her lip, following in the direction that she has hit the bludger in case of a quick return.

Riley Markham lofts his brows and dashes forward from having been more or less waiting at mid-pitch, sparing a somewhat side-long look toward Clavicle before pulling up high enough to collect the bludger, somewhat above the rest of the tightly knit group of chasers mingling below. A small bunt to hold the bludger more or less stationary is followed by a hard whack — supposedly in the direction of the approaching Eldric, in an attempt to de-bat him. Instead, however, the bludger archs upward toward Leong, quite by accident, in a startling burst of speed and power.

Rhian says, “Tegan has managed to get the Bludger away from Ribouet and Leong as the two Seekers now disappear among the stands… but there… Leong seems slightly hurt, loosing some ground on the Snitch. Gravely almost got hit by one of the other Bludgers, quite a close call as help is called for the Ravenclaw Chasers. There’s the Snitch, as it and the Seekers come back out onto the pitch. Ribouet seems to have lost a bit of ground on Leong but is working hard to gain it back. Campbell seems too hurt from the two Bludger blows in order to continue as she leaves the pitch to be seen by the Nurse. Linwood has learned his lesson and now sends one of the Bludgers back to the Ravenclaw Chasers who outnumber the Hufflepuffs 3 to 2 in their Chasers. Let’s see how long the Hufflepuffs can hold onto the Quaffle. The Bludgers are going everywhere, Bryce has had to dodge one, the beaters are going insane trying to keep the Ravenclaws off the Hufflepuffs or the Hufflepuffs from scoring.”

Going after Albert and getting between him and Carrie, Bailey watches the quaffle and Albert, trying to guard him as close as he the speed allows it.

Resisting the urge to shove her shoulder into Alexandra, Noémie flies straight for a moment, and then as the snitch ascends, she makes her way into the sky, flying up higher and higher, trying to get her fingers around it. Having the other seeker right neck-and-neck with her makes it more difficult, as well as the snitch staying just out of reach. Noémie‘s face is red from exertion as well as frustration at not having caught the snitch yet, despite the chase it has been. Grunts emit as she reaches out for it, trying to wrap her fingers around it, but only tapping it with them instead, and the snitch begins to descend again at a very steep angle. Noémie follows, however precariously diving as she has practiced so hard. The improvement is apparent, though she is still not all that great at it.

The situation among the Hufflepuff Chasers remains the same: Carrie is still in possession of the Quaffle, and the same bludger is still chasing after Albert. “It’s like that thing has it in for me!” Albert mutters, as he glances apprehensively behind him at the bludger, searching for his team’s Beaters. And then Bailey closes in on his other side, and Albert is caught weaving back and forth, frantically trying to avoid colliding with the bludger on one side and the Ravenclaw Chaser on the other. Carrie attempts to evade with a sharp curve that sends her into a sideways loop, holding on precariously with one hand while still trying to maintain her grasp on the Quaffle.

Charlie Linwood gives out a strangled yell as the bludger moves toward Alex, “This is why I was watching her!” He shoots off to intercept, while being mindful of not getting in the way. Difficult buisness this, as Charlie circles round behind them (sharp! thanks to a lot of practice at it) and manages, barely, to hit the bludger straight diagonally down the other way–more toward the ground than any particular group of people. His face is pale again, but furious.

Alexandra Leong‘s heart almost stops when Noémie grabs at the snitch and makes contact. Luckily, it’s not over yet, and as Noémie pulls into a steep dive Alexandra follows effortlessly. The dive ends only several feet from the ground. The Snitch flattens out it’s trajectory suddenly, and the Hufflepuff Seeker pulls up to follow. The trio – Noémie, Alex, and the snitch – continue straight at breakneck speeds, with neither Seeker within reach, until the snitch makes a sudden left turn. Alexandra pulls left hard, but her arm throbs, and her turn isn’t as sharp as it needed to be. She starts to lose speed as pain shoots up her arm.

Rhian says, “The Snitch flies high into the sky, the girls now neck and neck as they case after it. Ribouet seems to almost have it… but no, it dives to the ground, the two Seekers going after it. It seems one of the Bludgers likes Bryce as it continues to chase him around and away from Whittier who still goes for Douglass and a goal. However, Bryce comes back around and causes Whittier to go into a loop, trying to desperately hang onto the Quaffle. Bludgers flight back toward the Seekers once more though Linwood manages to protect them once more. A hard turn by the Snitch causes Leong to lose ground once more as it seems her arm is bothering her again.”

The flight to the groun causes Noémie to go breathless and she is perhaps just a bit slower than Alex in pulling out of it, and it takes several feet before she has managed to right herself and even up with the Hufflpeuff chaser. As the snitch turns left, Noémie follows suit, turning as hard as she can manage and thrusting her arm out, closing her fingers around the tiny ball with a shout of victory. She had managed to catch the snitch! Ravenclaw wins! She flies down to the center of the pitch and holds up the snitch, her face joyful, and are those tears on the Ravenclaw seeker’s face as she laughs for joy, thrusting her fist into the air again and again jubilantly. “We did it!” She shouts.

Eldric Carver is having a hard time keeping up with the bludger and the Hufflepuff Chasers, given that he had to completely change course to do so. Finally, he joins the fray, grip on his bat so tight his that the whitness in his knuckles seems to spread, he slams into the bludger full force, sending it arcing skyward, as much toward the Seeker-Snitch train as he can from here, hoping Alex will dodge and–there is a very, very loud string of curses here, as the vomit-and-hex covered Beater deflates, quite literally sinking down at a slow, defeated pace.

Rhian says, “Ribouet is still on the Snitch though and manages to catch the Snitch! Ravenclaw wins the match and the Cup! Final score is Ravenclaw – 160, Hufflepuff, 0. A marvelous game by both teams indeed with an excellent chase provided by our Seekers. A wonderful end to a wonderful season for Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff did a wonderful job as well. That is it for Quidditch this year, the next match not starting until November of this year. Well, I am Rhian Brecon of Ravenclaw and I’m signing off for the last time this year. Good luck with your end of term exams everyone.”

Alexandra Leong sinks dejectedly to the ground (luckily not too far up), holding her left arm with her right hand, and grimacing. She is clearly in pain – not surprising, as there is a rather large slither embedded in the poor arm. Tears are falling down her cheeks. She nearly falls off her broom as physical and emotional exhaustion catches up with her.

“Bloody — ” Tegan calls, pulling out of the chase she has been in, she makes her way down to the groun. “Bloody brilliant!” she calls gleefully and throws her arms around Noémie. “Champions!” Her voice rings out loud and echoes as she laughs with Noémie, her joy having overcome her previously serious attitude. “We did it!” The Ravenclaw bleachers seem to have erupted with incredibule noise at this and the girl is hopping up and down with sheer energy, though lord knows how she could have any left.

Keelan Walsh is watching, and has been, and several times she’s had the whistle up and had to drop it at the last moment. Now, however, as the Ravenclaw Seeker closes her hand around the snitch and announces the win, Keelan blows-hard-on the whistle and then, without looking much, zips down to the box. Amid the celebrating Ravenclaws (and the noise from the stands ringing in her ears), she shoves out her open hand. “Snitch please.” Pause, “So I can put it away.” From accross the pitch, some students, jubilant, carry the silver Quidditch cup. A very terse “Congratulations.” is all Keelan has besides a demand for things to be cleaned up. Poor Ravenclaws, a lot of them will have to go to Herbology this week.

Clavicle Gravely almost falls off the broom! “We won? WE WON! ALRIGHT! Great catch Noémie!” He does a prouette in the sky, a spin on the broom and zips off towards the ground where he will try to lift noémie up in a victory dance!

The fight goes out of the bludger – and out of Albert and Carrie, too, as the thunderous cheer erupts from the Ravenclaw bleachers. With one last look at each other, their energy fading swiftly into disappointment, the Chasers drift down to the ground, starting to cluster towards Alexandra and the fallen Marybeth.

Was that…? No, it couldn’t…or really? Noémie has caught the snitch and Ravenclaw has won the cup. It’s like a huge stone falling from Bailey‘s head and a wave of joy filling him up. “We won it! Wooohoooo!” he shouts, raising his fist and cheering wholeheartedly. Bailey performs a huge turn over the Ravenclaw bleachers and then lands on the pitch. He runs towards his teammates and helps Clavicle to lift up Noémie to celebrate their captain.

Looking quite green Marybeth stares up at Clavicle as if willing him to fall off of his broom when the game is won. “Well…” she croaks out rubbing her stomach. “Im still splitting up my bag of marbles so the joke is on you Ravenclaw.” Yes even with possibly broken ribs, a defunct stomach and scars of ravenclaw flirtation Marybeth is still a joker.

“Bravo!” Van calls as she has finally made her way to the ground, coming in to hug her captain and the other female beater. “Good on everyone!” she says, the tears that have been threatening to fall finally coming streaming down her face. “What a way to go out!” she comments, but her comments are drowned by the noise on the pitch as she celebrates with her teammates excitedly.

For the briefest of moments, Eliza‘s face crumples, her eyes closing against the sight and sound of the other team’s victory. But she opens them again, and swallows hard, and brings her broom down to earth in a smooth, controlled arc. Eliza steps lightly off of it, runs a hand backwards through her dark hair, and begins to stride, shoulders straight and posture upright, towards the center of the pitch for the closing handshake.

Charlie Linwood bites his lip and lets himself go limp. It was over. They hadn’t won, but they put up a good fight. Not typical behavior, this time when he flies down to the pitch he stays with the team, giving Alex a–well it’s almost kind look. “Want to go to the nurse, Leong?” That’s about as many words as he’s said to her in a row for a long time. Eliza, he doesn’t look at. Actually he’s mostly muttering things to his chest rather than looking up at people’s eyes or anything.

“Oh, right, sorry Professor,” Noémie tells Keelan and wipes her eyes from their tears as she hands over the snitch to the referee, detatching herself from her excited teammates. “No, no, guys,” she tells the boys who seem to be bent on picking her up in celebration, and she strides over to Eliza, putting her hand out much more cheerfully. The girl’s face cannot hide her obvious joy at being the winners of the match. “Well matched,” she tells Eliza with a mighty grin. Looking to the stands, there appears to be a Ravenclaw fifth year who looks to be trying to garner her attention, and she waves excitedly. “I’ll see you all in the commonroom later, there’s sure to be a party!” she tells her team and trots off, looking at the stands, where the boy has disappeared, and makes her way off the pitch very quickly, broom still in hand.

Clavicle Gravely then does something differen’t After hopping around with the team, he crosses the field to the hufflebuff side and offers first, Charlie a hand. “Good show.” he says stoically.

Keelan Walsh closes her hand on the snitch and turns to put it in the box. The bludgers have moved in and are strapped down, still somewhat wiggly from getting used. With a click, all balls in need of restraint are returned, and now the Quaffle is placed in as well. Noémie runs off without the cup and so it is presented to the rest of the team, though it seems that as Keeper and oldest, it is shoved closer to Van. Keelan, for her part, moves away from the students (especially as those in the stands trickle down) and out.

“Good match,” Eliza replies, with a firm nod and a sincere tone, giving Noémie’s hand a strong shake, with a true, honest smile that even lingers for a moment after the handshake has finished. And then Eliza is off towards the edge of the pitch, reaching Alexandra’s side in a few long, swift strides. “Come on,” she says softly, stretching her hand down to touch Alexandra’s shoulder gently. “Let’s get you up to the nurse.”

Alexandra Leongshakes her head at Charlie, although her arm is turning an interesting shade of purple. She is trying very hard not to burst into tears, but her efforts are less than successful. In a few seconds, she completely loses control and flings herself into Charlie, sobbing into his shoulder.

Does Charlie look like a crying post? Still, he’s in such a subdued mood that he merely pats her back a bit awkwardly and lets her cry. “It’s okay, it isn’t your fault the Snitch went under there. You’d've had it otherwise, really.” Clavicle’s offer of a handshake is just stared at–he does, after all, have a girl sobbing on him. He still won’t look at Eliza, and probably won’t for at least a week or so after this.

Clavicle Gravely lets his hand drop awkwardly. “Right then.” he nods and looks to the other Hufflepuffs, “Good match.” but feeling more awkward then anything he heads back to his side’s locker room.

There is no anger in Eliza‘s expression as she looks down at her teammates – just sympathy, and a little of her own sorrow. “Come on,” she says again, still softly, with a gentle but strong tug at Alexandra’s shoulder, transferring the weeping girl from poor bewildered Charlie to herself. “Let’s go.” Eliza swallows hard, and starts to walk her sobbing Seeker off the field.

Donovan Harrison stands in the center of the Quidditch Pitch, not in his usual robes but in more appropriate referee robes for the game. With a broom in one hand, he also has the box full of those well-known Quidditch balls that are needed. He waits patiently for the two teams to arrive and the captains to come over to him to do the usual pre-game ‘meeting’ with the referee of the game.

Rhian Brecon settles into the announcer’s seat and clears her throught. “Good afternoong everyone, what a wonderfully white day to have a quidditch game, isn’t it? I hope everyone is nice and bundled up like I am, though I’m sure the two teams today won’t need it. Today’s game we have Gryffindor vs. Hufflepuff, two excellent teams so this should ideally be a good game, despite the weather. Today we have, for the first time this year Professor Harrison of Transfiguration refereeing this game. Let’s just hope that we will be able to see this game, as well as the Quidditch players.”

Marie-Anna Greyton steps out onto the pitch in the colours of Gryffindor House. Broom in hand the captain makes her way over towards the referee of todays match. “Professor,” the teen gives with a slight nod of her head as she looks towards the rest of her team, and towards the Hufflepuff team.

Wandering out to the pitch, Briony seems to be feeling almost ill as she steps onto the pitch for the third and last time during the season. Granted, the girl has practiced all she could manage for this last and final match, but while she is quite adept at blocking the shots of her own team, her confidence is still lacking when it comes to blocking shots from those whose movements she cannot predict.

As it is his first match for the Gryffindor team, Sebastian Praw is more than nervous. He is trying to hide his excitement behind short smiles and because he’ll be the seeker today, he’ll be watched especially hard by everyone. Of course dressed in Gryffindor colors, his nearly mint broom in hand, Sebastian is standing on the pitch next to his teammates, waiting for the game to begin. Agitated, he rubs his short blonde hair with his free hand, wondering if he’ll be successful today.

Eliza Marlow strides onto the pitch with a confident gait, her broom on one shoulder. She gives her team a wide smile, projecting her confidence at them, hoping to calm their nerves. “We will do just fine,” she said to them as she motioned for all the members to gather around for a quick huddle. “We’ve worked hard, and we’ve really improved, even after our last game. We won against the Slytherins, and we will win here. Now let’s go out and play hard. Chasers, remember to work together, and keep an eye out for the bludgers. Beaters, you need to know where everyone on the pitch is, on our teams and theirs. Alex, don’t let your nerves take over your flying.” She paused in her impromptu little speech, and flashed a grin at her team. “You are all great flyers, now let get out there and win this for Hufflepuff!”

Donovan Harrison gives a nod to Marie-Anna and then looks to Eliza as they both stand on either side. “Well, I’m sure I don’t have to tell either of you that we should have a good, clean game. Just be careful of course, with this weather. Now, shake hands, get in position and let’s get this game started then.” He lets the captains do such and turns to the box with the Quidditch balls and opens it up to get ready to release the four different balls into the air.

Following the team captain, Eldric Carver walks on the pitch, sporting his trademark confident smile. The boy walks with his chest sticking out proud, his broom is swung over his left shoulder. As he walks forward, he toys with his heavy bat in the right hand, and he occasionally waves to a few people he knows and who are sitting on the bleachers. “We’ll smite them!” he replies with a broad grin to the captain’s little speech.

Marybeth Campbell wanders out to the Pitch, this time with her very own scarf on, near Carrie as usual. Her own broom is held carefully, and she keeps brushing snowflakes off of her robes with her free hand, if just to keep them from melting and soaking through before the game has even properly started. Listening to the speech, she punctuates the end with a bit of an excited yelping noise and “Right! We’ll win!” but then she gets into position for kicking off.

Charlie Linwood is practically bouncing on his feet as he comes out, not even half as ridiculously bundled as he has been for the last several …dozen… practices. No, he’s still got on a full set of clothes under his Quidditch robes, gloves, scarf, hat, and cloak, but that’s about a layer less than usual. After all, it’s a game and if he’s used to being weighed down, this should help. The other Hufflepuffs get a grey-eyed glance, but any turn of the mouth up or down is concealed, as usual, with the thick black and yellow stripes of his scarf. Clutching his broom, it seems that Charlie is not about to display any nerves. Just don’t mind the way his eyebrows are kind of twitchy. Even with Eliza’s characteristic enthusiasm, he’s Charlie.

Marie-Anna Greyton nods towards the Professor and turns to offer Eliza her hand. Once the formalities are done she offers a smile at the Gryffindor team. “You guys’ll do fine, you’ve worked hard for this match, just like all the others,” she gives in a calm voice before she takes her position on the pitch. Her stance is that of someone ready to play the game.

Feeling remarkably dizzy, while stepping onto the field, Andy Carver clings to his broom. Today he does not care about its tousled looking tailtwigs. He positions himself next to Briony and glances over to her, while tying up his hair to a ponytail, so that they won’t bother him during the match. As acclimates slowly, the spectators seem to come out of reach. ‘You’re playing here. Don’t care about them. Don’t-care-about-them’ he says to himself under his breath and puts on his father’s old quidditch gloves. Finally he puts his head back and breathes in deeply, looking up to the sky.

Alexandra Leong titters nervously, bouncing on her toes, toying with the handle of her broom. She gulps as Eliza mentions her nerves, but nods in response, bobbing her head up and down vigorously. “I won’t let you down, Captain,” she blurts, and turns a bright red. She looks at the rest of her team, then, in a small voice, adds. “Good luck, everyone.”

These words to not soothe Briony‘s nerves, and she looks to her fellow second-year with a bit of a gulp, then readies her broom for when the whistle is given to fly up to the hoops. The only thing Briony can hope is that there is a large tussle for the quaffle and she won’t have to see it for a good long time.

“Yes… we’ll smite them.” Carrie Whittier repeats after Eldric, clutching her own broom firmly with her right hand and smiling back, for the briefest moment, at the sixth year boy. “We’ve trained a lot and I’m sure this will pay off eventually” she goes on, mostly for herself. She wonders how she’ll fare in this match and if she would be able to do justice to her team, but now is not really the time to doubt about such things, is it?

Eliza Marlow steps forward and shakes Marie-Anna’s hand firmly. “Good luck,” she said to the opposing captain, with a friendly smile. “Alright team! Let’s get started!” She mounts her own broom with an almost careless grace, like something she’s done a thousand times (and perhaps have), and could do in her sleep. There is a certain edge to her movements, however, as soon as she is on the broom. Poised and ready to take off, her grips her broom firmly, adjusting her grip until it is perfect, flexing her gloved hands.

Donovan Harrison looks up at the two teams and waits for them to be in the proper position as he takes the Quaffle out of the box into his hand. His wand is in his hand to be quickly used though. Once everyone was relatively settled despite the weather, he points to the box and has the Golden Snitch released, which flitters in place for a while and then goes zooming off into the snow. Following that the two bludgers were let go, which he dodges one while they go to create mayhem. Once that is done, he waves the box off the field and then tosses the Quaffle up into the air between the Chasers, letting them argue over it as he moves to his broom and kicks off to keep an eye on the game.

Charlie Linwood is not in the habit of mounting his broom until the referee has signaled the start of game. With a “Why do they always release them before we’re even airborne?” under his breath, Charlie pulls out his beater’s bat, mounts, and zooms upward. He watches as the other members of both teams begin to play. He looks, as always, a strange combination of menacing and ridiculous, holding the bat and moving rather quickly from here to there, but thin and all bundled up against the cold.

Marie-Anna Greyton makes her way up into the air, with Landon no ttoo far behind. Both beaters have bats in hand as they prepare to keep their teams from getting knocked out cold from the flying monsters that are bludgers.

Andy Carver sets up as the game is about to start. His toes seem to dig themselves into the ground to perform a proper kick off the ground. Since the quaffle is taken out of the box his eyes only know one direction. As it gets thrown into the air he shoots up into the air, trying to reach it earlier than the Hufflepuff chasers.

“I don’t know, but we’d better take off quickly” Carrie Whittier says to Charlie. Mounting her own broom, Carrie quickly takes off and takes her own position with the other Chasers of the Hufflepuff team, and starts manoeuvering so as to get closer to the red ball.

Marybeth Campbell moves with her team-within-a-team toward the quaffle as well, racing with the set of Gryffindor Chasers to gain hold of the ever-important red leather ball. “Oi!” she calls briefly, moving suddenly to the left, “Mind the wind!” Down, toward Andy, then, expression set rather seriously, for Marybeth.

Eldric Carver follows suit, and jumps on his own broom, bat firmly held in his right hand. He kicks off the ground, flying directly towards the nearest bludger, which is, however, still a bit too far away to be hit directly. Eldric mutters something under his breath as he presses his broom forward towards the heavy iron ball. The beginning of the game is the best moment to shoot a Bludger against the opponents and wreak confusion amid their ranks, he thinks.

Alexandra Leong kicks off hastily. Once in the air, her hair black hair flying, she lost some of her nerve, and began to fly a search pattern above the game, her eyes scanning the pitch for any sign of the snitch. So far… nothing. She does a fancy little turn, to change directions, more to calm her own nerves than anything.

Sebastian Praw decided to always keep an eye on Alexandra, as she is the opponent seeker and he really isn’t experienced. Of course he already caught a Snitch in his life, but this was a real Hogwarts quidditch match and not a fluffy training session. He whisks off some snowflakes from his broomstick, to make it more handy and looks up again. Where is Alexandra? Apparently gone. “Argh.” Sebastian curses himself and kicks off, following the Hufflepuff seeker and glimpsing out for the nasty bludger he has heard of.

Marie-Anna Greyton flies towards a bludger and takes a heavy swing at it, doing her best to aim for the Hufflepuff seeker. Meanwhile, Landon’s on his way towards the other bludger.

Seeing that he has a small lead in the race for the quaffle, Andy reaches out for it and plucks it out of the air. A bit surprised that he made it again to catch the first quaffle, he zooms upwards, trying to get out of the trajectory of the Hufflepuff chasers and starts looking for Josh and Gabe, who were flying next to him a second ago.

Rhian says, “And the two teams have come out. The captains, Eliza Marlow and Marie-Anna Greyton come to the center, getting last minute advice from Professor Harrison, shake hands and go to get their teams into position. Once everyone is settled, Professor Harrison releases first the Golden Snitch, good luck in this weather Seekers, then the Bludgers, which one attempts to hit Professor Harrison, and now the Quaffle is tossed into the air, with… Gryffindor taking it, Carver managing to get a hold of it. Greyton manages to get a hold of one of the bludgers and sends it off toward someone else.”

Too late for Landon. As he reaches the bludger, Eldric Carver swings his bat and sends it towards Andy, who seems to have caught the quaffle. This would give him something else to think about, he smirks.

Eliza Marlow launches herself with a firm kickoff, and within seconds she was bobbing about her goal posts. Her eyes narrow as she watches her team and the trying to keep an eye on the play, but so far, everything seems to be fine. “HUFFLEPUFFS! Communicate!” She yells out, sounding a bit short, although her tone of voice is usually like this during a game or a practice. Short and to the point, although not unkind or angry. Hopefully the team remembers that what “communicate” means in Eliza terms.

Charlie Linwood watches Eldric go for for the bludger and so heads in the direction of the other ball, rerouting when Marie-Anna hits it, with a bit of a glower. Actually, the ball is now closer and becomming rapidly more so. Quickly applying the breaks he glances very briefly around the pitch and barely has the time to swing and hit the bludger back toward Andy and the Gryffindor Chasers, with a bit of a shout.

Pushing her own broom forward, Carrie begins to chase Andy, trying to get the quaffle, exactly as her role requires. As she hears the sound of the bludgers drawing nearer, she breaks off the pursuit. It wouldn’t do much good to be targeted by the bludgers. Better leave them all for Andy to taste.

Marie-Anna Greyton flies upward a bit to have a better view of the players below, and the bludgers. Just as she’s about to head off towards the bludger Landon beats her to it. A swift hit of his bat sends the bludger in the general direction of the Hufflepuff end of the field.

For the very first time in her life, Alexandra felt complete at ease with her direct competition. After a few minutes of flying, she felt completely comfortable with her broom, and actually started enjoying the flight, although her muscles are still tense and she still overreacted to every sound or shout. She could tell that the Gryffindor seeker was following her, and that gave her an idea. Suddenly she zooms in the opposite direction as she was flying before, hoping to distract the other seeker and maybe lose him with a bit of fancy flying.

Marybeth Campbell frowns as Andy gains the quaffle, but follows Carrie out of the path of danger, swooping rather unexpectedly sideways (hopefully not into anybody else’s airspace). “Linwood! We’re down here too!” she calls in a surprisingly good-spirited tone, not that it’s likely to reach his ears. For all she knows, Eldric hit the ball in this direction, but it’s more fun to blame Charlie, for one reason or another.

Sebastian does not really search for the snitch, he’s more trying to keep track of Alexandra and avoiding bludgers. As Alexandra performs a hard turn, Sebastian wonders if she is trying to trick him, but then he just decides to stay behind or at least near her.

Andy hears the sounds of the bludger rushing towards him and hectically passes the quaffle to Gabriel, who caught up and swooped down to his left side. An adequate toss and Gabriel catches the quaffle. A grin escapes from Andy‘s lips and then he the bludger slams into his chest. “Ugh.” Andy moans and fights back onto his broom. Sitting on it again holding his side, he watches Gabriel engaging the Hufflepuff hoops.

Rhian says, “Ooo, the Hufflepuff chasers have to break off their attack following the Gryffindors due to the bludgers coming in from their own beaters, not a good thing. Leong seems to behave that she’s found the Snitch every now and then, but keeps changing direction, Praw following her almost like a lost puppy. Carver tosses the Quaffle to Goden, just before Carver is hit straight on by a bludger, that had to hurt. Carver tries to get air back into his lungs while the other two chasers head off toward the hoops.”

Marie-Anna Greyton looks towards Andy. “Come on, keep it going, Carver!” she shouts as she flies overhead, still, taking on the bludger that hit Andy. With an oomph she winds up and hits said bludger, intent on getting it towards the Hufflepuff chasers.

Charlie Linwood hit someone who isn’t a team member! Far from feeling bad that Andy took the quaffle to his stomach, he gives a bit of a whoop, grinning a bit (still obscured by his scarf) and waving about his bat. Andy isn’t Leong, who is the only person (or broom) he’s managed to hit yet (it was Louis’s fault, really!). As Marie hits the offending bludger toward his own chasers, however, Charlie urges his broom forward, eyebrows set. “Not if I can help it!”

Eliza Marlow watches calmly as a bludger heads towards her end of the field. The other bludger is hit towards the her chasesrs, which is a bit of a relief, as two quaffles might be a bit dangerous to deal with, if the Gryffindors get towards her end quickly enough. “Hufflepuff chasers! Watch for the bludgers!” she warns her team.

Alexandra Leong rights herself from her turn, just in time to see a glimpse of something glittering gold in the falling snow. For a moment the small Seeker shocked into a kind of trance, but the moment passes and a plan quickly forms. She still closer to the snitch than Sebastian, but not by much. Quickly she pulls into a sharp dive for about 10 feet, then she shoots straight up again (something she’s learned how to do from losing control of her broom way to many times), pulling up hard, then righting herself. She makes another swerve, then heads straight for the snitch, her body pressed against the handle of her broom as she urges it faster, everything around to beginning to blur as she gains speed.

Rhian says, “Gryffindor heads for the Hufflepuff hoops, but what is this? Leong has suddenly picked up speed. Has she actually spotted the Golden Snitch? And where is Praw?”

Marybeth Campbell pushes snow flakes away from her face, but it seems they’re coming down thicker than before, or maybe she’s just looking at them instead of through them. “What?” She urges her broom toward a blur of red that must be a Gryffindor chaser, as they haven’t been much far apart, and finds herself flying ridiculously close to Josh. “Ugh, you haven’t got the quaffle at all!” is her statement, as the whistle of a bludger reaches her ears and she leans sideways to increase the distance between herself, the ball, and Josh.

Sebastian suddenly sees Alexandra swooping down, but has no idea where the snitch could be. His new broom giving him a faint boost, Sebastian catches up to Alexandra slightly but still is a few yards behind her. Then he focusses something glimmering in front of the snow covered scene. It the snitch. Come on, broom. Sebastian leans forward to hide from the wind. The opponent’s seeker coming nearer in front of him, just in form of a fluttering robe.

Andy tries to catch up to Gabriel and Josh, who is also trying to maneuver into a good position. As Marybeth let’s go Josh, Gabriel tries to throw the quaffle to him, fooling the Hufflepuff chaser, who is heading for the other direction. Josh gets a hold of the quaffle, but then he gets entangled in his cape and drops the red ball. The three Gryffindor chasers seem to sigh simultaneously and discontentedly steer downwards to recover the quaffle.

Charlie Linwood finally notices the bludger heading toward Eliza and, figuring that the Chasers are, for starters, not in possession of the quaffle, and for seconds, much more able to avoid the hurting ball of metal, changes course. He isn’t about to let his Captain and Keeper have to deal with the bludger, even if it’s unlikely she’ll be his. Away, and then CRACK!, with an awful lot of force, he sends the bludger in the opposite direction, toward Gryffindor’s end of the field.

She’s close now. Only feet away, Alexandra raises one arm, reaching forwards, but she’s not close enough. She mutters to herself, pushing for her broom to go faster, and it obliges, although the increase in speed is only slight. With the golden ball so tantalizating close, she is aware of nothing else, not even the other seeker.

The race goes on and Sebastian is getting nearer inch by inch. He’s approaching a bit faster now, that he is right behind her, but there its still a long way, if he is going to overtake her. The Hufflepuff’s cloak whips into his face, but he won’t concede. Sebastian swerves to the left, as it seems to be a good moment and perceives, that Alexandra’s fingers are only inches away from the fluttering golden ball. He reaches out and tries to catch it with a single strike. He misses and tumbles, doing a awkward roll in the air and falling back immediately, losing several yards in a second.

Sebastian’s sudden appearance (and disappearance) startles Alexandra, and she nearly falters, but as she turns to check on the other seeker, her outstretched hand brushes against something fluttering. Instinctively, she closes her fist. A second later she is slowing down, and in a few moments she is stopped, right dead center of the pitch, looking a bit confused, her hand closed on something. She opens in hand a little, taking a peek, and suddenly she breaks starts to laugh. Finally, she raises her arm into the air, holding the snitch, now visible in her hand, it’s wings protruding from between her fingers. “I catch it!” she says intelligently.

Rhian says, “The Seekers are so close it seems in catching the Snitch, Praw makes a grab for it but fails in getting it, quickly loosing ground on Leong. Leong has stopped and… she has the Snitch! Hufflepuff wins! The final score is Hufflepuff 150, Gryffindor 0 as they failed to get a score before the Snitch was caught. That’s it for the game and lets all get back to the castle and warm up.”

Marie-Anna Greyton screeches to a halt as she hears the words from Alexandra. “Oy, good try guys,” she gives to her teammates as she looks around and offers a nod towars Alexandra. “Yeh did good,” with that she lets her broom make it’s way to the ground. Once having touched down she offers her congratulations to the Hufflepuff team before heading back to the castle.

Donovan Harrison gives a whistle as he sees that Alexandra has caught the Snitch. He flies up to her and nods. “Good job Miss Leong. I’ll take the snitch now. Go ahead and get cleaned up and celebrate with your House.” He also goes around and gathers up the bludgers and quaffle, putting them away as he also makes sure the pitch is cleared of players before he goes to get warm himself.

Pushed against the wall, the tables are out of the way and the benches stacked neatly upon them. This semester has been much the same for the fifth year class, with little to no personal space outside of where people decide to set their bookbags. Seated upon her desk, Astra waits for her students to arrive for class. As she does so often, she shifts through a pile of papers and then sets them back down.

Perched on another one of the tables, long legs swinging as they dangle from the edge, is Eliza Marlowe. The Head Girl is still serving as Professor Rathe’s teaching assistant, and still looks like she is enjoying every minute of it – the resting expression on her face is an easy grin, which widens in greeting as the class begins to enter.

Noémie Ribouet strides into the classroom, looking at nothing in particular. The prefect seems almost distracted as she sets her bag down near the doorway, keeping only her wand on her person. Perhaps today she would manage an actual Patronus, rather than wisps of white smoke.

Ivy Thornweld almost stalks after Noémie, boring holes into the back of the girl’s head with her eyes. Well, not literally. As soon as there are other people, especially given that one of them is Professor Rathe, Ivy straightens, averts her glance elsewhere, and moves as far away from Noémie as she can to set down her books with a soft huff.

Once all the students have arrived, Astra hops off her desk. Spreading her arms out in a wide gesture once she smiles, “Glad to see you’re all here today. Now I think we know the routine by now. Everyone up against the right hand wall and take out your wands. I want to see if some of you can actually produce your Patronus today.” Nodding to Eliza, she continues, “Miss Marlowe and I will be on hand to assist those of you who may need a little extra help.” “Miss Marlowe, if you’d make sure everyone is situated properly so no one gets hurt?” Grabbing the stack of papers, Astra then walks toward the entrance and sets them on the edge of one table while everyone settles in for the day’s lesson.

“Right.” Launching herself off her own desk in a wider arc than the professor, Eliza lands lightly on her feet and takes off around the room. “Good – no, move a little to your left, Tremont – perfect, perfect – ” She keeps up a steady commentary as she circulates between the rows of students, all shuffling to get themselves in order. As Eliza passes behind Ivy, she pauses, giving the Slytherin girl a slightly longer look than she gives the student next to her. “You all right, Thornweld?” she murmurs, leaning in to speak softly enough so that nobody else can hear. “Won’t help if you go into the lesson angry.”

As irony would have it, Noémie has situated herself right next to Ivy, and while this was not an intentional action, the Ravenclaw does not appear to be bothered by it. She puts her wand at the ready and takes a deep breath. Patronus, happy thoughts. “How are things, Ivy?” Noémie comments rather quietly, not hearing Eliza’s comments to said person, and really not listening all that well for a response as she mentally prepares herself to make a patronus.

Ivy Thornweld blinks at Eliza. “Yes, thank you, Miss, I’m fine.” She flashes a bright smile just to prove the point. Of course, something in her eyes says ‘Shoo, I don’t need to share with you’. The smile fades entirely when she turns and sees that it is, of all people, Noémie standing next to her and chatting. “Miss Ribouet,” she is much much too bright when she says, “I’m just fine, how are you? You know I just got a letter from my Mr. Fleuve, did I ever show you the bracelet he gave me for Christmas?” Her voice carries, hopefully, to a certain Hufflepuff boy as well. Now she turns and pulls out her wand, hoping there will be a lot of ignoring of each other going on now.

“These,” pointing at the stack of papers the professor then explains, “are your essay questions for next week. I expect you to choose two of the three and answer them with references.” Astra walks in front of the assembled fifth years checking their position and their stance. “You all look good to me. Miss Marlowe you may wish to step aside.” “Very well, now then, everyone together ‘Expecto Patronum!’”

With a single long nimble stride, Eliza steps out of the way of the rest of the class. Her hand swoops down to pull her wand from her belt, and in a smooth, continuous motion, she raises it into casting position. “Expecto Patronum!” she declares, along with the rest of the class. A white plume shoots out of the end of her wand, resolving swiftly into the form of an eagle, which spreads its wings and soars up in a silent arc.

“No, I don’t believe you did, Miss Thornweld,” Noémie responds, chuckling a bit at Ivy’s comments. “Perhaps you could show me after class.” With this, Noémie‘s voice hushes and she looks to Astra for instructions. Alright, ballet recital, Quidditch game, her last birthday… “Expecto Patronum!” A cloud of silvery smoke swirls out into the air in front of her, and there is just the slightest shape of an animal there, though it appears to be more of a blob with a tail.

Suki hangs tightly onto her wand as she announces, “Expecto Patronum!” The girl glances somewhat nervously at the Head Girl as she does so, hoping the spell will work well for once. Wand-work was never Suki‘s strength, but that hardly mattered. Suki would never need to know complicated spells once she graduated. Eyeing the end of her wand after the incantation, Suki huffs as the bright, silvery mammal erupts, rather hunched and not very intimidating, in Suki‘s mind. Why was hers a hyena?

Ivy Thornweld occasionally dreams of putting all her professors in a room and chaining them to desks while handing out essay after essay and tearing them up without grading them. Ivy occasionally wakes up in the middle of the night very bored. Other comes her wand, up scrunches her nose, and “Expecto Patronum!” produces a puff of silvery smoke and mnothing else. Okay, Ivy, think Happy Thoughts. Isn’t there a muggle play like that? Ivy! Focus. Summertime… “Expecto Patronum!” There’s no change. Her cheeks flush as she recalls something else, but this time her Patronus comes out fully formed, a ram with huge, curling horns and pointy little hooves. Horrifed, she stares and murmurs something about ‘Stupid sheep herder.’

Cracking a smile at the attempts made by her students Astra notes the various forms. “Excellent try, now then.” Pulling out her own wand, she doesn’t normally bother with this except to demonstrate the proper way to cast a certain curse or hex. Picking out one student, she sidles in next to Noémie and gives the girl a grin. “Try it again, and remember to put conviction into your casting as well as your thoughts.” Demonstrating the motions, she does not speak the words. “Use force too, this is not one of those spells that rely on subtlety.”

“Conviction,” Noémie repeats after Astra says this, gripping her wand a bit tighter and resituating herself. The fifth year looks down at the teacher once, then down at the ground for several moments, trying to come up with happier memories. She finds that she has already thought of the things that make her happiest, so instead she focuses on them harder. “Conviction,” the girl mumurs once more, closing her eyes then pointing her wand energetically out and nearly shouting, “Expecto Patronum!” This time, a more formed patronus appears, looking to be some sort of creature on four legs with a long tail. Noémie lets out a resounding laugh joyfully as she sees this. “Nearly!”

“Go away now,” Suki Korosu-Dawson says pointedly to her skulking patronus. “You’re ugly,” she notes, crossing her arms and turning on her heel towards the professor. Sticking up her hand but speaking straight after, Suki inquires in something of a whiny tone, “Patronus animals can change, can’t they Professor Rathe?” The last thing Suki needed was a grinning hyena saving her from mortal peril.

“Good show, Thornweld,” Eliza murmurs, as she slips between the rows. Then, breaking free of the crowd, she strides around the edge of the room, on her way to the other side to deal with another group of students. “Rodgers – I thought you had it last week?” the Head Girl says, coming to rest beside an anxious-looking Ravenclaw girl. “Everything all right?” Eliza gives the younger girl a friendly thump on the shoulder, and says with a grin, “You heard the professor – conviction! Here, let’s try it again.” Side by side with the Ravenclaw girl. Eliza moves her wand in the spell’s pattern, walking her through it. And it pays off – as the two girls declare “Expecto Patronum!” together, the younger one produces a puff of silvery smoke that turns into a monkey, scampering away below Eliza‘s eagle.”

Ivy Thornweld actually looks proud of herself, for all that her Patronus is of the boy-sheep variety. It charges, head down, in a circle for a minute and then dissolves. Noticing that the others are trying again to make them more solid (Ivy‘s ram had had a kind of wispy rear end), she thinks again of her happy thoughts–her face goes dark a minute and she shakes her head. That would never do. Happy thoughts! Mustering up something really good, she says without about as much convinction as she’s ever said anything, “Expecto Patronum!” Out comes a ram with very ridgey horns and shiny silver eyes… and yet his back end is kind of whispy. “Professor Rathe, is it supposed to be perfectly formed to be right?”

“Well done!” Astra crows happily after the next attempts. As always, whines grate on her nerves and she breaks rank, making eye contact with Suki, before addressing Ivy’s question. “The clearer definition that a Patronus has the more good it will do you. You’re doing quite well and you still have the rest of the semester to perfect it. Don’t worry so much.” Turning then, she looks back to Suki “Yes Miss Korosu-Dawson, a person’s Patronus may indeed change. That’s a very good point, but whining about it isn’t going to change what comes out of that wand. Now riddle me this. Why would a person’s Patronus change? What circumstances or changes would a person have to experience in order to see their Patronus change?” Striding down the row of students, she comes to stop in front of Eliza, “Is anyone able to answer this question?”

Noémie‘s hand shoots up into the air as she forgets all about her mostly-formed patronus, anxious to be the one to answer the question. She remembered this from her reading! At least, she thought she did; only Professor Rathe would be able to tell if she was correct.

The Head Girl tilts her head in a half-nod, half-shrug, as she looks down to meet the professor’s eyes – she has gone through this class before, after all. But Eliza looks over at the Ravenclaw girl next to her, and from there, her hazel eyes skim over the rest of the class, scanning for raised hands, or the anxious motions that might signify knowledge of the answer without raising a hand.

Suki Korosu-Dawson doesn’t read. From textbooks, anways. Or, more accurately, she doesn’t retain the information she reads from dull tomes. Still, it never hurt to hazard a guess, and she sighs as she raises her hand, too. Sure she’s answering, in effect, her own question.

“Very well, it seems we have two volunteers to answer this question.” Astra rounds back to where Noémie stands but points to Suki, “Miss Korosu-Dawson you may answer first. Miss Ribouet, please feel free to answer after Miss Korosu-Dawson has answered to the fullest of her abilities.”

Suki Korosu-Dawson was not suppsed to be chosen first! Lowering her hand with one eyebrow raised, Suki utters a low “Uhh,” before catching herself, sniffing and flipping her hair over her shoulder as she replies smartly, “Your patronus’ shape depends on which memory you focus on. Mine’s a hyena because I always think of the time Tallis likened one of our friends to an overweight poodle,” Suki says, crossing her arms once more.

Looking at Suki as if she’d lost her mind, Noémie shakes her head a bit, and then smiles. Ah, it’s her turn. “Major life events that somehow alter oneself can cause a patronus to change. It isn’t a definitive thing, something that can be measured, but it happens after one has gone through trials or something very changing and had their ‘self’ changed for going through it.” The Ravenclaw nods curtly afterward, ignoring the fact that she sounds just like a textbook as she gives her answer.

“Unfortunately for the Slytherin, it would seem that Miss Ribouet’s answer is correct. Three points to Ravenclaw for having the answer to the question, rather than avoiding the question entirely.” Giving Noémie the smallest of smiles Astra then rounds on Suki, “Miss Korosu-Dawson your memories feed the Patronus but do not guide it. You cannot demand what shape it takes anymore than a baby can decide what color hair it is to have.” “Furthermore, your answer avoided my question entirely. Next time you raise your hand to volunteer at least make an attempt.”

“Fine, whatever,” Suki replies under her breath, turning her back on the professor to see that her patronus has, likely, long faded. So, Suki would have to go on a life-altering inner journey to change her patronus? Truthfully, she’d been only half listening to Noémie. Suki was very distracted by a crease in the Ravenclaw’s robe… or maybe it was the light? No matter. Life-altering anything was too much work. “Looks like I’m stuck with an ugly hyena,” she comments, inspecting her finger nails.

Ivy Thornweld listens to Noémie’s answer with a slight frown, and then her cheeks color. She looks, attempting to discretion, over at The Hufflepuff Boy very, very briefly, and shifts. Her ram again does a circle, this time chasing after a Gryffindor girl’s bouncing silvery hare before dissolving. Ivy does something she almost never does: She raises her hand.

“Ah,” Noémie responds happily, for earning points for Ravenclaw is always a good thing in her eyes. “Should we give the patronuses — patronusi? — another go, then, Professor?” the girl asks, putting her wand more or less at the ready while she looks around. She does not look in Suki’s direction again, for though she did not hear what Suki said, she did hear the girl mutter, and that could not turn out well.

It takes a great deal of effort for Eliza not to respond to Suki’s first suggestion of what could change a Patronus, and even more for her not to respond to what Suki’s happy memory was. Eliza‘s mouth remains tightly shut, and she remains silent, maintaining all the dignity of her position. – but her eyes narrow, and her cheeks start to flush an angry red, and she scans the room swiftly, on guard to see if there are any students who look particularly upset at the memory. Knowing Suki, she might just say something like that in front of the person she’d originally been taunting. The Head Girl relaxes a bit when the other students jump in, and even flashes Noémie a grin after she gives the correct answer. But at Suki’s disrespectful response to the professor, though, Eliza‘s face reddens even more, and she actually takes a step forward, her head lifting in shocked, defensive anger.

“I’ve had it with your attitude Miss Korosu-Dawson.” There’s a distinct warning in Astra‘s frigid tones as she speaks to the Slytherin. “Do not turn your back on me when you are in my presence and then continue with such impudence. It is impertinent and disrespectful. That’s five points for pure cheek and as you’re Slytherin you can count on a detention.” Coming down hard and swift on the girl, what little color the professor had in her cheeks has drained. “In fact since you don’t seem to appreciate what I’m trying to teach you, you can have mandatory study sessions with me every week for the rest of the semester.” Having brought a swift and merciless sentence upon the Slytherin girl, she shakes her head to Noémie. “The class is dismissed; remember to take your essay questions on the way out.”

Ivy Thornweld lowers her hand and glares a little bit at the back of Suki’s head (it will turn into a sympathetic smile should the girl look Ivy‘s way). Putting away her wand, the Thornweld girl grabs her bag and a paper with the essay questions on it. For all that she’s not particularly tall, she moves swiftly, and it’s almost as if she was barely in the class at all.

Noémie can’t help but gawk a bit as Suki is given mandatory study with her own House Head, from whom she has even lost points, but quickly gathers up her things, resolving that she would definitely practice on her patronus more, and soon. She is soon over by her bag, studiously ignoring glances from a group of Slytherins who seem to be wispering about some ‘goodie-two-shoes’ in the class. Soon the girl has procured her questions and then slips out of the room as discreetly as she can manage.

Knowing full well (from experience) that additional sass will only make things worse, Suki only tears her attention away from her nails long enough to grimace falsely at Astra, answering, “Yes, professor,” in what she hopes is interpreted as a humble tone. She flashes her best ‘hurt’ expression in Eliza’s direction, furrowing her eyebrows and putting her hands behind her back. Her eyes are narrowed, however, at the know-it-all textbook Noémie. Suki would remember this.

Eliza meets Suki’s pout with a hard, steady look. Slowly, her long arms cross; slowly, she leans back against the wall and crosses one foot over the other; and she keeps watching Suki long after the younger girl has turned away. Only after Suki has left does Eliza break her gaze, and toss off a few friendly goodbyes to the other students.

Most of the students in the Hufflepuff Common Room are at their leisure on the weekend – uniforms are unbuttoned, books are pushed aside, and games of Exploding Snap and wizard chess fill the room with a comfortable undercurrent of chatter. But Eliza Marlowe is not looking as much at ease as her fellow students: the Head of House is gone, and the Head Girl is filling in as best she can. A small cluster of students has gathered around her, all anxiously waving parchments at her – the Hogsmeade permission forms. “Right. So. . . er, your mum signed the permission form?” she is saying to a small, weedy, nervous-looking third-year boy as he hovers near the table at which she sits. “That should be all right, then.” Eliza runs a hand through her hair, but the dark wisps continue to slip out of her ponytail almost as soon as she lets her hand fall back to the table. “So you’re all set.” The boy hovers in front of her, while Eliza looks at him with increasing intensity, and increasing confusion, nodding as if to prompt him. Finally, “Er, you can go now.” And the third-years, satisfied, scamper off. Eliza lets out a long sigh, and droops back in her chair, stretching her arms up behind her to cushion her head.

For the exact reason that Eliza is in the commonroom, Olivia has camped out for much of the day in the fourth year girls’ dorms, attempting to finish homework. On such a day as this, though, while the noise wafts up to her from the commons and the sun is shining down over her small desk, Olivia can’t concentrate. Instead, her eyes fall on the white umbrella that she had acquired during the recent Hogsmeade weekend. She smiles a little to herself, then stands and opens said umbrella, spinning it in her hands for a moment, before deciding that, yes, she would bring it downstairs. The fourth year is soon on her way down the stairs from the girls’ dorms, pausing a bit to take in the scene. Oh, there was the group of third years who had forgotten to get their forms signed for the first Hogsmeade weekend, and had not let her be until she told them all about it. Olivia takes special care to walk a wide girth from them and comes over to take a seat in a particularly cushy yellow-and-black chair. She offers a closed-mouth smile at Eliza and rather cheerfully greets her, “Hullo, Eliza, ma’am.”

“Hey, Baxtor,” Eliza replies, with a grin that chases away a little of the anxiety that had crept into her own expression during her dealings with the clamoring third-years. The Head Girl leans back, tilting her chair to balance on its two back legs, and stretches her own long legs out in front of her, and cranes her neck to look over at what the younger girl is carrying. “Hey! You’ve got yourself an umbrella!” Eliza‘s grin widens with approval. “Talked your mum into getting it for you? Good show!”

“Well, not really,” the girl responds with a little shrug. “When we were in Hogsmeade last Hogsmeade weekend — Evan and me, I mean — I met his brothers and sisters, and since I bought them sweets, he bought me an umbrella.” She opens the umbrella, twirling the white thing and looking rather pleased. “After I show it to Professor Hayward, we’re going to see if we can’t charm some colors onto it.” The girl’s cheeks tinge a bit pink at this admission. Now why would Olivia have any reason to be pink-cheeked about any of that? “Evan thought I ought to look through all the umbrellas, but I liked this one right off. I don’t know what I want to put on it yet. It will be very pretty, though, I hope.” The fourth year lets out a little giggle and covers her mouth as she does so, as if hiding something.

“Evan Geroff?” Eliza asks, raising her eyebrows just a little bit, and a knowing spark crooks her smile up farther. “Well, he got you a nice one, that’s for certain. Didn’t know you could even get ‘em in Hogsmeade.” She tilts her chair back even more, holding it at a precarious angle with the pressure of her feet on the ground and knees against the underside of the table, and brings her gaze closer to the umbrella to examine it thoughtfully. “If you want to go completely Muggle with it, you could paint on it. But I think charming some colors onto it would look nice, too.” Despite her easy grin, Eliza seems to be treating the subject of the umbrella with just as much sincerity as Olivia.

Nodding as Eliza mentions her friend, Olivia doesn’t seem to notice what being friends with him even means. “We found it in a knick-knack shop. The man had a lot of them. He had a really ugly yellow one in the window, and we wanted to see if there were nicer ones inside, so we went in.” She smiles a bit and gives the umbrella another twirl before closing it up. “You can paint on it? I don’t think I’ve ever tried painting before.” She runs her fingers across the white fabric and a little smile spreads over her lips. “I don’t know what I’d like on it yet. Maybe some yellow flowers, like my gloves for the social had. Those were pretty.” She pauses. “I suppose if we painted it, we wouldn’t have to worry about getting into trouble for charming it.” The girl looks thoughtful about this as her fingers run across the clean white umbrella. “Isn’t the handle lovely?” she comments, holding the bottom part of the umbrella up for inspection. It has ornate carving in it, and appears to have small flowers decorating it until they smooth out about twelve inches up.

“If you had a teacher’s permission, I’m sure you wouldn’t get in trouble,” Eliza declares, with a tilt of her head and a crooked grin. “But painting would be more Muggle-ish anyway. Bet it would be easy to get paints. . .” She tilts her head sideways to peer down at the handle. “Mm. Lots of flowers, there.” The sight doesn’t seem to inspire much enthusiasm in Eliza, but she can still say with complete, sincere honesty, “I can see why you liked it.”

“Oh, I didn’t think a teacher would let us do something like that.” The girl blushes a bit. “I thought I would get into trouble for asking to charm a Muggle … thingy.” Olivia can’t seem to remember the official word, so substitutes the first word she thinks of. Ah, how eloquent the girl is. “I wonder whether the Wizo-Art teacher would be able to help me. I’ve never tried painting or anything, so I don’t know that I’d be best at doing it. Evan was going to help me do it anyway.” Evan, Evan, Evan. One has to wonder whether she does actually have any other friends. “We’ll need to charm it to repell rain, though. This one doesn’t seem as if it was meant to be a rain umb-er-alla.” A pause. “What else would someone use it for, though?”

“Decoration, I s’pose. Matching to your clothes, and all that.” Eliza shrugs her un-ruffled and practical shoulders, dismissing the idea. “I’ve seen ‘em at the seaside, too – some of ‘em are for keeping off the sun instead of the rain. That might be one of those, actually,” Eliza adds, angling her gaze down at the ruffly white umbrella in Olivia’s hands. “Doesn’t look too rain-worthy to me, either.”

“Perhaps that’s what it is, then,” Olivia responds with a nod and runs her fingers along the bits of lace at the edges. “I don’t know that I’ll keep the lace. It seems a bit…” Frilly? Fluffy? Over-the-top? “Girly.” Olivia says this as if she herself isn’t indeed a girl, and prone to actually having girly things. “Well, I don’t know that I’d make it match my clothes — white is so easy to get dirty, after all — but maybe it would be nice to put up as a decoration in my dorms.” Olivia looks perhaps more pleased over the umbrella than any of her peers might be, but this doesn’t seem to occur to her. “Do you go to the seaside often?” she asks, curious.

“Oh, in the summer, yes.” Another easy grin comes to Eliza‘s face at the thought, and she gazes up at the ceiling with an almost wistful look in her eyes. “Usually stick to wizard beaches and things, but I had to go to a few Muggle ones last summer. Internship with the Obliviators,” she adds in an aside, looking back down to the younger girl as she explains. “Looking for people who’d seen sea serpents and that sort of thing. Anyway, a lot of the Muggles carried umbrellas like that. Girlier, even.” Eliza exchanges a mischievous look with Olivia, repeating her housemate’s assessment of the lace trim. “All over lace. And fringe, too, some of ‘em.”

Sighing a bit, Olivia leans back against the high-backed cushy chair. “Oh, I wish mum and dad would take us to the shore again. We haven’t been since before my second year.” She frowns. “Christian pushed me into the water and spoiled my clothes. I wasn’t able to enjoy it anymore after that.” She sighs a bit and sets the umbrella next to her, and crosses her arms. “I imagine muggles haven’t got ways to keep themselves safe from burns or the like,” Olivia admits. “After all, they have to wear those silly hats in rain.” The thought of this makes her snicker a little. “There was one of those in the shop we were in. Evan put it on, and it looked even more ridiculous than the pictures show.” Of course, he had it on backwards, but at the time, neither noticed this fact.

Eliza wrinkles her nose at the mention of Christian, in equal parts sympathy and distaste, but doesn’t say anything, and her good humor returns as soon as she sees Olivia’s smile when talking about Evan. “I’m sure he did,” Eliza replies, with a chuckle of her own, but the look she gives the younger girl is curious, and almost measuring for a moment, before she continues, in a more casual tone, “You find any other interesting Muggle things in that shop?”

“Not really; we were running out of time. We spent most of the day with his brothers and sisters and cousins, so it was getting dark when we finally made it to the shop.” Olivia pauses in thought for a moment. “I can’t remember what it was called, but it was at the edge of Hogsmeade.” She pauses again, drawing her umbrella close to her. “Are you going to go there?” She asks curiously, wondering why the seventh year seems so interested in her small side-trip to the shop. “There were a lot of things in there — hardly much room for many people to be in there.”

“Oh, I think I already have,” Eliza replies with a grin. “I was mad on Muggle things just after I started Muggle Studies classes. Found a whole stack of books, toys, footballs – much harder to play when the ball doesn’t leave the ground on its own, I can tell you!” She tilts her chair back even farther, and her easy smile widens. “Just off of Manticore Way, isn’t it? Little shop on the corner?”

“Right, that’s the one,” Olivia answers with an affirmative nod. “I might see if I can’t go back in there next time. We didn’t really have much time to look at things. Though I don’t know what I would do with muggle things if I had them.” She’s having a hard enough time trying to figure out what to do with the precious umbrella that she has procured, as it is. The girl laughs a little, thinking of all the things she could get, for no reason whatsoever. “I wonder. Did you have to dress up for your Muggle clothes presentation? Some of the Gryffindors are mentioning that they’ll be doing that.”

“Dress up in Muggle clothes, you mean?” Eliza shrugs off the question with an easy tilt of her head. “Oh, some did, some didn’t, I think. I did my presentation on Muggle transportation instead, so I didn’t have to worry about that. Didn’t want to muck around with those short skirts anyway,” she adds, wrinkling her nose briefly. “I remember a few of the students in my class came up with pretty decent Muggle outfits, though. Borrowed ‘em from Muggle-born friends, that sort of thing.”

Olivia wrinkles her nose at Eliza’s comment about the skirts, clearly agreeing. “I suppose I won’t, then. Mum and dad would be horrified if I did, anyway. They think it’s improper to like Muggles too well.” Olivia shrugs at this comment, brushing off their closed-minded thoughts. “I think they’re rather fascinating, even if they do odd things. I do hope I manage to get into NEWTS, though.” Those who know the girl very well, know that her getting into many NEWT level classes is going to be a long shot, but still, the fourth-year keeps up her hope. “Why did you decide to take Muggle Studies?”

“I’m sorry.” Eliza‘s voice is uncharacteristically quiet, and there is no trace of a smile, only sympathy, when she hears Olivia’s assessment of her parents’ attitude towards Muggles. She quickly recovers her easy manner, though, and continues, “Sort of fell into it, I suppose. Didn’t want to take Runes or Arithmancy, I knew that. Not Divination, either. I was curious about Muggles, though – and, like I said before, I had a Muggle-born chum, and I was curious about the things that she talked about. Motor-cars and football and cricket and games where the pieces didn’t move by themselves and pictures that didn’t move!” Carried away by her own list, Eliza grins widely, her eyes bright with enthusiasm.

Olivia giggles a bit, only moving her gaze from Eliza for a moment as she sees some of her fellow Hufflepuffs get a bit rowdy over a game of exploding snap. This causes the girl to cling to her umbrella a bit protectively as if they pose any danger to her precious prize. “I can’t imagine seeing pictures all the time that didn’t move. It just seems so bland and boring.” The girl shrugs a bit. “I imagine if you’re used to it, though…” She doesn’t finish this though, mostly because she doesn’t need to. “I’ve often wanted to see those muggle games played, but I don’t know where I would, unless Professor Hayward takes us to see one.”

“I hope he does. You don’t really understand football till you’ve seen it played,” Eliza explains fervently. “‘Course, that’s mostly ’cause none of the books show the game being played ’cause the pictures don’t move, but still.” The enthusiastic light in her eyes brightens, and she lets her chair fall forward with a resounding thump! as she returns its front legs abruptly to the ground, and leans forward towards Olivia. “And not as fun as Quidditch. But still, it’s a great game!”

“I’ll ask him if we’re doing that next time I have Muggle Studies,” Olivia says with a nod. She isn’t one for sports much, but even she can’t help but be curious about what the sport is like, at least. “I’ll have to remember to ask him that.” The girl grins a bit and tucks her legs up under her while she nestles into the chair rather comfortably. It seems as if the girl has busied herself with examining the detail on the umbrella’s handle, though it is clear her mind is wandering elsewhere.

“Good luck, then,” Eliza says, and opens her mouth to add something to her comment – but then, a small first-year boy comes tearing down the stairs, practically in tears, and heading straight for the Head Girl. “Oh no. . .” Eliza mutters, her eyes widening in apprehension. “This is going to be another one of those Head of House things. . .” By the time the frantic little boy has reached Eliza, wailing “Miss Marlowe!” she is already turned towards him, reaching out a hand to steady him with a firm touch on his shoulder. “What’s wrong?” And the Head Girl leans forward as he talks, resuming her attempt to fill in for her absent Head of House.

Olivia, spying that her chatting companion has now been distracted, decides to leave the older student to her new duties and stands. She considers bidding her farewell, but decides against it, given how harrowed Eliza seems to look upon the boy’s frantic arrival. Olivia makes her way back across the room, umbrella kept close to her for its safety, and she soon makes her way back up the stairs, hoping to take another stab at her still unfinished homework.

Most of the younger students are in class at this hour, but for the NEWT-level students, there is a bit more free time, and Eliza Marlowe is taking advantage of it in study. The Head Girl, her robe casually unbuttoned to reveal the brown of a Puddlemere United jersey, sits sprawled sideways over a chair, her head propped up on one of its cushioned arms and her long legs dangling over the other. A stack of books sits on the floor next to her chair – surprisingly small and drab books, with flimsy paper covers whose pictures don’t even move. Their titles, proclaimed in bright but similarly unmoving letters, are things like “Tales of ADVENTURE!!” and “PERIL in the Himalayas!” One of Eliza‘s hands holds one of the paper-bound books open while her other holds a quill, busily scribbling notes on a piece of parchment propped up on one leg. Her hazel eyes devour the words on the pages, their eager spark in odd contrast with the flimsy, drab appearance of the book.

More stumbling into the room rather than walking, Olivia makes her way into the commonroom, a fresh stack of Muggle Studies texts in her arms. Oh, dear, it was going to be a long night. “Hullo, Eliza,” the girl says quietly and drops her stack of books rather hazardously on the table. A second glance at them would show that all of her books are organized alphabetically. The girl sits down carefully, making sure not to bunch her robes so that they don’t wrinkle and offers a half-smile to the older student lounging.

“Mm?” Eliza tilts her head away from her book and lets the cover drift closed over the finger that marks her place, only reluctantly dragging her attention away from what is revealed to be ‘TRUE! Tales of Shipwreck and Survival!!’ “Oh. ‘Lo, Baxtor.” Eliza gives an easy grin to her younger housemate, and cocks a curious glance over at Olivia’s stack of books. “Working on Muggle Studies too?” she asks, her dark brows lifting with interest. “Fascinating stuff, isn’t it?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Olivia answers, still quietly, still unable to separate the ma’am from her statement, for Eliza is Head Girl! Olivia‘s extreme respect for the older student is apparent and she nearly blushes, though Eliza’s comments are casual enough. The girl takes the top book from the pile — Apples Are Apples But Bonnets Are Not — and opens it to the first page, before pulling out her inkwell, quill and some parchment to write on. “We’ve just been assigned a project about muggle clothing,” the girl comments, carefully opening the blue ink and dipping her quill in it. It is clear that every motion she does is slow and careful, and cleanly organized.

By this point in the year, Eliza has given up fighting the battle of ‘ma’am’ and the ‘miss’ from younger, awestruck students – the Head Girl’s eyes just glance heavenward with the briefest of resigned looks as she accepts Olivia’s deference. And the prospect of talking Muggle Studies is too interesting for Eliza to worry about the younger girl’s insistence on formality. “Oh, right. Loved that bit!” she replies, her grin widening with enthusiasm. “Have you got to zippers yet?” Her own Muggle book lies forgotten for now – Eliza spreads the small paper-bound volume open face-down over her leg to hold its place, and shifts her lanky body back to allow her to face Olivia more directly.

“We’ve just learned about rain jackets today,” Olivia answers, pointing to a picture of it in the book, and rather marvelling. “Do they have to be such awful colors?” she comments quietly, holding the book up closer to her eyes as she tries to view all of its attributes. She scribbles a couple of things down on the parchment. “Muggles wear the oddest clothing,” the fourht year comments, a bit louder, furrowing her brow at the oddly shaped rain hat.

“Oh, not all of ‘em,” Eliza replies, with another easy grin. “I’ve seen some in rather drab colors, actually. All black and brown. I’d think that when it rained they’d want to put on brighter clothes, but no. Not in London, at least,” she adds, giving a rare bit of precision to her casual words. The younger girl’s next comment draws Eliza‘s attention even more, and she pulls herself up from her lazy slouch on the arm of the chair, craning her neck to see the illustration in the book. “Oh, the hats!” she exclaims, and lets out a laugh. “The hats are right out. Ridiculous looking, the whole lot.”

“Why do they wear things that look so ridiculous?” Olivia asks. “I don’t understand why they would wear hats anyway. Doesn’t it fuss up your hair?” Not that Olivia is a terribly vain one, but she does like to look neat. “Or they could use one of those umb-er-allas,” she comments, making a motion with her hands, rather resembling an inside-out umbrella. She shakes her head and writes down some more notes before turning the page to reveal a page of weather-appropriate footwear. “What on earth are those?” she asks incredulously, staring at a pair of galoshes.

“Rain shoes,” Eliza replies with a grin. “Also known as galoshes or Wellingtons. I’ll say this for ‘em, the Muggles have some good names. Although ‘Wellingtons’ sounds a bit too dignified for those things, doesn’t it?” She waves a hand in expansive dismissal at the picture of the floppy rubber boots. “Uncomfortable, too, but not as bad as the hats. If you have to wear Muggle rain things, I’d say an umbrella would work best.”

“Gal-oo-shes just seem so pointless. The least they could do is make them less floppy. More like the puddle boots we use in Herbology. Then again, how do you keep the water from getting your feet wet in these?” Olivia shakes her head. Muggles. So impractical. “And these? These aren’t for rain, surely?” Olivia points to a pair of sandle-like shoes. “I imagine your entire foot would get soaked in it.”

Eliza‘s shoulders move in an eloquent shrug. “If the water gets inside ‘em, you mean? No way at all. Your feet just get wet.” She wrinkles her nose in distaste, but it quickly passes with another shrug. “Wait, what are those?” Eliza leans over farther, swinging her legs up and over the arm of the chair in a wide pinwheeling motion to straighten herself up so that she can get a better look at the second picture. “Oh, those. No, they aren’t for rain. They’re for summer, I think.”

“Oh, hmm. What does one do with them in the summer? I shouldn’t think half-shoes are necessary just because the sun comes out occasionally.” Obviously Olivia has completely missed the point. She writes some more notes out in slow, neat handwriting before turning the page again. “What are zippers?” she finally asks — clearly they haven’t gotten to that part of the lessons. “I’m sorry, I’m just such a terrible dunce, and Muggles are so confusing.” Her cheeks pinken and she feels almost embarrassed for not knowing what the zipper is, despite that she hasn’t been taught of it yet.

“You’re not a dunce,” Eliza pronounces. Her words are blunt and straightforward, but their impact is softened by another easy grin, and honest friendliness towards her younger housemate. “Guess you haven’t got to them yet. Can’t be expected to know something you haven’t done in class yet!” Eliza tosses her book down on top of the stack, and lets her quill and parchment slip down between the cushions of her chair as she leans forward, resting her arms on her knees while she explains. “Zippers are these things that hold clothes together. They do the same thing as buttons, but they’re. . . all together, like.” Her hands stretch out, interlacing her fingers in a rough imitation of a zipper’s teeth. “Here, I bet the textbook has a picture of one. Check near the end,” Eliza suggests, untangling her hands to wave at Olivia’s textbook.

“How very odd,” Olivia comments, leafing through the book to find the illustration of a zipper. “And they use it to close up their clothes? I can’t imagine that would be a very comfortable thing,” the girl comments and runs her finger along the illustration, which zips up and down in demonstration of how the thing works. “Muggles are so very peculiar, and I do have such a hard time pronouncing some of their words. Umb– Umb-er-alla, and Gall-oo-shies?” Olivia sighs a bit and purses her lips, certain she’s butchered the words again. “I’ve never heard of such ridiculous things. Did you have to learn about all this when you were a fourth year, too?

“Oh yes. All of it.” Eliza shrugs again, and leans back in her chair, stretching out her long legs in front of her and cocking one foot atop the other. “Well, I had a Muggle-born chum in the year ahead of me, and she helped me with some of it. But yes, I had to start from the ground up, pretty much. Didn’t even know how electricity works. Well, still don’t, really,” Eliza adds, with a crooked, self-deprecating grin. “But at least I know what to do with electric lamps and things.”

“Oh, we haven’t gotten to that yet, either,” Olivia comments, feeling a little disappointed as she hears this. Why hadn’t Evan taken Muggle Studies so that he could explain these things to her? The fourth year sighs and looks at the zipper picture for several more minutes before flipping back in the book to watch the shoes demonstrate themselves some more. “I suppose it’s a good thing I’m a wizard; all this Muggle stuff… so much of it doesn’t make sense!” The girl shakes her head ruefully and turns the page, revealing a number of modern frock styles — well, they were modern twenty years ago, anyway — demonstrating how they vary from the wizarding styles.

“Oh, it does, in its own Muggle-ish sort of way. And if you’d been born a Muggle, then wizarding things would seem just as odd. Or that’s what my Muggle-born chum said, when I told her the same thing.” Eliza gives Olivia a reassuring grin and tosses her head casually – and then pauses, regarding the younger girl for a moment. “Here,” she offers, nodding down at the textbook, “want some help with that? What are the bits that aren’t making sense? Is it the clothes? The whole Muggle thing?”

“Why don’t they ever wear robes like what we wear? Aren’t they more practical for every day wear than their … frocks?” To Olivia, the dresses that the Muggle women wore looked terribly fussy and not at all useful for any purpose at all. Whether she realized it or not, Olivia‘s own casual clothing resembled muggle wear to a slight degree, but even those items were more practical than the fussy getups that the book displayed. “Do they always wear skirts and dresses? Don’t they ever wear trouserS?”

“Well, the men do. All the time.” There is a faint hint of envy in Eliza‘s voice. “But the women don’t, usually. Or if they do, everyone else thinks it’s scandalous. I’d think it would be much more comfortable, too. ‘Specially when you compare it to those skinny little skirts that most Muggle women wear. No room to move!”

Olivia‘s mind is immediately brought to the skirts that she herself wears, pleated and roomy. No, she doesn’t understand that, either. “Why do they do that to themselves? I don’t understand. That isn’t practical at all.” Olivia, while she likes pretty things, is clearly more concerned with practicality than she is with fashion. “Why do muggles put themselves in these kinds of things, restricting themselves so.” Olivia pauses. “And why can’t women wear trousers? Professor Rathe does all the time. It seems to me that they’re more practical sometimes than skirts.” Ah, that word again.

“Beats me,” Eliza replies, stretching lazily back in her chair, kicking aside her own loose and practical robes as she stretches out her long legs. “Something about propriety – that’s all I could get out of ‘em. Which is rubbish, I think, ’cause they wear short skirts that show more leg than any trousers would!” Eliza‘s tone isn’t judgmental, despite the critical nature of her words, but rather one of casual bemusement. “But yes, that’s how it goes. The men wear trousers and the women wear skirts, most of the time.”

“What, the men sometimes wear skirts?” Olivia looks generally shocked as she says this, and looks down at the various pictures in her book which are still modelling for her. “I can’t imagine that it would be more proprietous for a man to wear a short skirt like that than it would be for a woman to wear trousers.” She frowns a bit. “Muggles are peculiar. I don’t understand them at all.” The fourth year shakes her head a bit ruefully and crosses her arms across her stomach.

Light amusement colors Eliza‘s grin as she shrugs off the younger girl’s question. “What? Men in skirts isn’t any less proper than men in robes. And hardly any of ‘em do, anyway. Wear skirts, that is. I haven’t seen any, but I’ve seen pictures. In the Scotland section of ‘Muggle Britain’, if you’ve got that book.” She stretches up her arms, folding them back to cushion her head on her hands. “Muggles have got their own logic, I think. It’s a strange one, but it it works.” Eliza shrugs, accepting the oddities of Muggle life with complete calm and ease.

“Right, but I meant the short skirts, like what the muggle women were wearing in that catalogue that Professor Hayward showed us. The women were all wearing skirts that showed their knees and things. Mum said that’s improper for a woman to show her knees.” The girl shrugs a bit. “I suppose if women can wear skirts like that then men can, too.” The girl looks down and turns the book shut, pulling another off. “I was reading through this book here, and this is one thing that I can’t quite get. Muggles make their tea in little bags.” The girl stifles a giggle as she comes to the page where it demonstrates just that. “How odd!” Clearly, Olivia finds this part more amusing than peculiar.

“Not all of ‘em,” Eliza says yet again, although now a bit more amusement finds its way into her voice. “Some of ‘em look down on it, even. Can’t say I blame ‘em – tastes much worse that way. And looks pretty silly, too, dunking a little bag on a string, or fishing about in your teacup to get it out with your spoon.” Eliza rolls her eyes, but her chuckle is more sympathetic than anything else, as she reflects on the hardships of dealing with teabags.

“I don’t imagine the rich muggles use them, then,” olivia comments. “We haven’t had occasion to try them in class yet. Maybe we’ll do it sometime.” She shrugs a bit and closes the book. “I suppose it’s good for me to learn about this,” she comments. “Evan says that learning how other people live helps you appreciate your own way of life. I suppose it’s true enough. Mum said taking Muggle Studies was a ridiculous idea.” Olivia pauses. “I think she would have much rather I took Divination instead.”

“Divination’s all right,” Eliza says, with an agreeable shrug. “Useful, in its own way. And having the chance to know about the future?” For a moment, her eyes light eagerly at the thought, and her grin widens. “But Muggle Studies is practical, too.” Has Eliza picked up on Olivia’s emphasis on practicality, or is it just a fortunate convergence of personalities? “After all, there are plenty more of them than there are of us. Hard to avoid ‘em, even if some people try.” There was no disdain in Eliza‘s voice throughout all of her discourse on Muggles, but she rolls her eyes as she speaks of ‘some people’. “Might as well learn about ‘em, then,” she concludes, good humor returning once more.

Quietly, Olivia admits, “I think my mum and dad are like those people.” She looks genuinely ashamed at this. Aside from the fact that her sisters are notorious for being ridiculous snobs, Olivia is generally able to ignore her family. “You don’t think it’s something you get by default because of your family, do you?” While Olivia knows better, she can’t help but be concerned. “Does your family mind that you’re taking Muggle Studies?”

Instantly contrite, Eliza sits up, her eyes widening in swift surprise and hands sweeping out to wave away the younger girl’s doubts as she protests, “Oh, no! I mean, some parents teach their children not to like Muggles, but it’s not something you get, like blue eyes or something like that.” Her voice softens a little, and she gives Olivia a gentle, crooked grin. “And you seem to have turned out all right.” Eliza leans back, folding her arms behind her head again. “My parents didn’t mind. They’d rather that I’d had the marks for something like Arithmancy – ‘specially ’cause Mum knew Professor Morgan, way back when – but they thought Muggle Studies was just fine. Useful. And they knew I liked it, so they were all right with it.”

Olivia smiles, despite herself, at Eliza. “Well, I suppose I don’t have to worry about it. I took Muggle Studies anyway.” The girl shrugs a bit, pushing all thoughts from her family from her head. It isn’t that her family is horrible, per se, but she doesn’t seem to fit in her family all that much. “I suppose I’ll manage my way through my Muggle clothes project well enough,” she comments, coming back to her original comment as she carefully begins restacking her books alphabetically again. Her parchment is now quite dry from her notes and she packs it away carefully in her bag, which is also rather neatly organized. “Thank you for your help with it, ma’am.’

The ‘ma’am’ draws another grin from Eliza despite herself, but all she says is, “Let me know if you need any more help.” She reaches down to retrieve her own Muggle book off the top of her stack, and kicks her legs up, swinging them around to drape herself sideways across the chair again. “Good luck, Baxtor,” Eliza says, tilting her head to give one last smile over her shoulder to the younger girl. “See you around.”

Another ‘thank you’ is emitted from the younger student as she picks up her books and bag and heads towards the stairs, on her way up to her quarters. Olivia looks a bit less perplexed and concerned and soon vanishes up the stairs towards the girls’ dormitories.