Present-RP & OWLS: Unpacking and a bushel of letters (Harry Potter, former Gryffs of his age-group)
DATE/TIME: 21 June 2007 (late evening)
CHARACTERS: Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Neville Longbottom, Fred & George & Charlie Weasley, Lavender Brown, Parvati Patil, Oliver Wood, Alicia Spinnet, Katie Bell
PLACE: Harry's new Professor's Quarters at Hogwarts, wherever it is everyone else may be
RATING: G
STATUS: Complete
Harry Potter, almost 27-years-old and still as lanky and pinched-looking as ever muttered to himself in no discernible language as he shut the heavy oak door behind him. It sounded almost as if he were spitting. A pale green garden snake in an aquarium at the back of the flat seemed to sit up in notice. Well, if snakes could "sit" that is. It's little head lifted a bit, it opened it's beady eyes, and realizing that his owner was not, indeed, speaking to him, Flix lay back down on the warm rock he'd been enjoying all evening.
Hedwig noticed Harry's mood and hooted indignantly before hopping to the large bay window that looked out on Hogwarts' Lake and tapping on it lightly to get her boys' attention. She wanted to hunt - it was a cool night in June and Hedwig never could turn down a good hunt over the Lake. Harry noticed and walked past two piles of unfolded, probably dirty, laundry and opened the window for her. With what seemed to be the owl's version of a sigh, she swooped out into the night and Harry watched her smooth form until he could no longer see it in the moonlight. He'd just come from dinner, in the Great Hall - his Great Hall, the Great Hall that had held dreams and nightmares and parties and hopes and comfort for him when he was a boy. Now, it seemed a tiring trip, from his quarters up near the Gryffindor Tower Common Room, down to the Hall to have a meal and make small talk with other professors and staff who happened to be around for the summer holidays. There were no gilded goblets, no enchanted ceiling. It made him feel... old
Harry had moved into the castle just two weeks prior. As classes were being let out and exams were finishing, he'd been asked to fill the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor. Thinking back to that letter, he'd shrugged and figured it was bound to happen eventually, right? And he'd missed the feelings of home and stability that the castle had always offered him, and so he agreed. It seemed the previous Professor had been victim of some sort of terrible Grindylow incident just after she'd finished grading the last of her exams - something about scuba diving in the Lake. No one would admit it, of course, but it seemed that the position was still cursed just a bit and Harry'd enjoyed teaching enough to give it a try either way. Hermione had reminded him - as a mode of cheering him up, Harry thought - of his days as the instructor of the so-called Dumbledore's Army. The DA had been great fun, and he'd really felt something wonderful when 'his students' had proven they'd learned from him. He remembered the look on his best friends face as she watched her otter patronus swim merrily around the room, and the feeling of pride as Neville Longbottom - until then a fairly ineffectual wizard at almost all subjects except Herbology - came into his own and grew to trust his abilities in defense. Neville had been particularly helpful during the final battle, and Harry couldn't help but still feel a bit of pride at the thought. When Hermione had reminded him of those days, those feelings, she'd done the right thing and he'd resigned from his post as a Junior Auror in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement the next morning. He'd enjoyed his time as a dark wizard catcher, and he remembered how badly he'd wanted to make that title when he was a teenager, but having spent a good deal of the last fifteen years of his life on the tail of particularly nasty witches and wizards, he felt maybe it was just as good a time as any to take a break.
However, after the warm fuzzies had died down, he'd realized he was now all alone for the rest of summer holidays in a castle that was at times drafty and ghostly and at other times sweltering in the heat and humidity - the stones that made up the walls seemed to breath and swell with water in the air no matter the temperature. He realized that he was stuck with Flix - his small, lazy garden snake - and Hedwig as company (other than the other professors, of course, but he was only 26 and felt like a child sitting at the grown up's table when it came to them). He realized he missed sitting and listening to Hermione go on about her research at the ministry or some new book she'd picked up at the shop down the street from their cozy little two-bedroom flat in London. He realized it was going to be a very long two months before September the first.
And so he hadn't unpacked. He'd spent his days in the library trying desperately to come up with a teaching plan, completely clueless about such things, and in general he'd disappeared for the last two weeks straight. His clothing was all in piles - muggle jeans and work robes mixed in with the finest of dress robes and dirty, hole-y socks. His books were haphazardly stacked on his bookshelves - Harry smiled as he thought of the look on 'Mione's face if she could see them! Even Hedwig's cage (which she didn't really use all that often anymore, it's not as if she was unwelcome in the halls of the school) was getting to be a bit on the... well... disgusting side.
Harry heaved a sigh and contemplated just calling it an early night and ignoring the mess once more. Somewhere in the back of his head though he heard a familiar voice - one that sounded disturbingly like that of his Aunt Petunia's from all those years ago - shrieking and telling him to get up right away and finish with the bloody chores. Just the thought that he might continue hearing that voice was enough to shake him from his haze at the window and he turned to scan the room, wondering where on Earth to start. He summoned is wand from here it lay on top of the pile of parchments and quills and other such things on his desk and set about straightening the books. His quarters weren't large, which was fine by him, and mostly consisted of a sort of living-room-slash-bedroom and then a private bath. In the main room was his desk (which he now sorted and threw out most of which was on top - used parchment and broken quills from his attempts at writing his teaching plan), one wall completely covered with bookshelves (his collection only used up two full shelves of one set), a small closet (plenty large enough for him, though), and of course his bed. There was also a very comfortable reclining chair, that he'd brought with him from the flat in London - it was deep maroon, slightly over-stuffed, and one of the few real luxuries he allowed himself. The private bath was simple enough, which he didn't mind at all.
He lazily sat down cross-legged next to the piles of clothes and levitated (what he assumed were) the dirty ones to a pile in the back corner of the room (for the house elves to take) and then swished his wand around some more and the remaining piles folded and hung themselves appropriately in his closet. Harry laid down on the newly cleared floor, the rough stones covered with a rug of maroon and gold (which were the colors most prevalent in his design, if you could call it that, much to the displeasure of Flix, who preferred purple), and stretched his hands high over his head, satisfied that he'd done something and quieted the Petunia-Voice in his head. Harry closed his eyes, letting the quiet of the rising night wash over him and considered finally letting himself sleep. Instead, he sat up, got up to his feet, and went to his newly cleared off desk to write a few owls (Hedwig would take them when she came in, whether he was asleep or not, he knew).
'Mione,
How are you? How's the flat? Finish taking over my room yet? I'll have you know, professor's quarters here have more bookshelves than even YOU would know what to do with (makes my small collection seem sadder than it is, though).
Well, I'm a bit bored, and missing the city and our place and your chattering on about boring topics like books and research and Ministry stuffs. Want to come up and have dinner? I was thinking of getting a bunch of the old group together - though I haven't heard from Ron in ages, so I don't know if any letters will get to him quick enough to come. We can do dinner in the Great Hall here at Hoggie's and get everyone caught up, what do you think?
Do let me know, Hedwig won't like to come back without a reply, you know that.
Harry
PS. Oh, and Flix says hello.
Gred & Forge:
Dinner this weekend? I'm bored as a stone here at the Castle and have decided to liven up the old place a bit for the holidays, what do you think? Won't be any fun without you two - How about Saturday night? I figure we can take over the Great Hall. Send a reply back with Hedwig, she'll wait.
-Harry
Neville,
How've you been man? I heard your name on the wireless the other day, something about Herbology? Alchemy? I'm not sure - it's not as if it's a rare occurance to hear about you in the news. How've you been though? It's been too long since we've all gotten together, so I'm having Hermione and the Twins and Charlie up for dinner this weekend, I'm living at Hogwarts now, taking over DADA finally. Saturday night? Can't wait to catch up.
-Harry
Charlie,
Hey there! How've you been? It feels like it's been forever since your mum dragged everyone around for a family dinner, so I'm sort of taking the reigns on this one. Free on Saturday? I'm up at Hogwarts, all settled in now and bored as can be, let's take over the Great Hall for a bit, eh? Everyone else should be coming, can't wait to see you too.
-Harry
Katie (& Oliver and Alicia as well!),
Here there, stranger! Hogwarts is NOT the same without Quidditch, let me tell you. And so, I'm having a "Harry is bored out of his mind stuck at school and so all the old Gryffs need to come to his rescue" sort of dinner thing (think you can bring up some of that firewhiskey your pub is so famous for? I'll kick in for it if you want, of course) this weekend. Saturday night, here at the Great Hall - imagine, us drinking in the Hall? I can't wait to catch up, hope all is well, and I'll see you this weekend (Hedwig is trained to just NOT take no for an answer, as a warning). Oh! And be sure to pass the news on to Oliver and Alicia (you still see them a bit, right?)
-Harry
Parvati (& Lavender as well!)-
I know I said I'd write after running to your at your shoppe at Diagon, but things got a bit hectic - I've taken up position of DADA professor at our Hoggies. You've got to come up, I'm having a whole bunch of the old Gryffs together for dinner this weekend, and I'd love to catch up more than "oh good to see you too."
Saturday night, hope to see you there,
Harry
Harry's hand cramped a bit and he realized he'd been writing for just over an hour. Muttering a charm to strengthen the torchlight that kept his room glowing, he saw the faintest remains of the scars on his hand and set the pen down gently. The reminder of the Umbridge torture always made him a bit skittish about pens... He folded and labeled each of the invitations for Hedwig to take and crawled into bed, looking forward to hearing back from everyone and making plans for the weekend in his mind. Taking off his glasses just as a list of things to give the house elves unraveled in his thoughts, he fell straight asleep.
CHARACTERS: Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Neville Longbottom, Fred & George & Charlie Weasley, Lavender Brown, Parvati Patil, Oliver Wood, Alicia Spinnet, Katie Bell
PLACE: Harry's new Professor's Quarters at Hogwarts, wherever it is everyone else may be
RATING: G
STATUS: Complete
Harry Potter, almost 27-years-old and still as lanky and pinched-looking as ever muttered to himself in no discernible language as he shut the heavy oak door behind him. It sounded almost as if he were spitting. A pale green garden snake in an aquarium at the back of the flat seemed to sit up in notice. Well, if snakes could "sit" that is. It's little head lifted a bit, it opened it's beady eyes, and realizing that his owner was not, indeed, speaking to him, Flix lay back down on the warm rock he'd been enjoying all evening.
Hedwig noticed Harry's mood and hooted indignantly before hopping to the large bay window that looked out on Hogwarts' Lake and tapping on it lightly to get her boys' attention. She wanted to hunt - it was a cool night in June and Hedwig never could turn down a good hunt over the Lake. Harry noticed and walked past two piles of unfolded, probably dirty, laundry and opened the window for her. With what seemed to be the owl's version of a sigh, she swooped out into the night and Harry watched her smooth form until he could no longer see it in the moonlight. He'd just come from dinner, in the Great Hall - his Great Hall, the Great Hall that had held dreams and nightmares and parties and hopes and comfort for him when he was a boy. Now, it seemed a tiring trip, from his quarters up near the Gryffindor Tower Common Room, down to the Hall to have a meal and make small talk with other professors and staff who happened to be around for the summer holidays. There were no gilded goblets, no enchanted ceiling. It made him feel... old
Harry had moved into the castle just two weeks prior. As classes were being let out and exams were finishing, he'd been asked to fill the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor. Thinking back to that letter, he'd shrugged and figured it was bound to happen eventually, right? And he'd missed the feelings of home and stability that the castle had always offered him, and so he agreed. It seemed the previous Professor had been victim of some sort of terrible Grindylow incident just after she'd finished grading the last of her exams - something about scuba diving in the Lake. No one would admit it, of course, but it seemed that the position was still cursed just a bit and Harry'd enjoyed teaching enough to give it a try either way. Hermione had reminded him - as a mode of cheering him up, Harry thought - of his days as the instructor of the so-called Dumbledore's Army. The DA had been great fun, and he'd really felt something wonderful when 'his students' had proven they'd learned from him. He remembered the look on his best friends face as she watched her otter patronus swim merrily around the room, and the feeling of pride as Neville Longbottom - until then a fairly ineffectual wizard at almost all subjects except Herbology - came into his own and grew to trust his abilities in defense. Neville had been particularly helpful during the final battle, and Harry couldn't help but still feel a bit of pride at the thought. When Hermione had reminded him of those days, those feelings, she'd done the right thing and he'd resigned from his post as a Junior Auror in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement the next morning. He'd enjoyed his time as a dark wizard catcher, and he remembered how badly he'd wanted to make that title when he was a teenager, but having spent a good deal of the last fifteen years of his life on the tail of particularly nasty witches and wizards, he felt maybe it was just as good a time as any to take a break.
However, after the warm fuzzies had died down, he'd realized he was now all alone for the rest of summer holidays in a castle that was at times drafty and ghostly and at other times sweltering in the heat and humidity - the stones that made up the walls seemed to breath and swell with water in the air no matter the temperature. He realized that he was stuck with Flix - his small, lazy garden snake - and Hedwig as company (other than the other professors, of course, but he was only 26 and felt like a child sitting at the grown up's table when it came to them). He realized he missed sitting and listening to Hermione go on about her research at the ministry or some new book she'd picked up at the shop down the street from their cozy little two-bedroom flat in London. He realized it was going to be a very long two months before September the first.
And so he hadn't unpacked. He'd spent his days in the library trying desperately to come up with a teaching plan, completely clueless about such things, and in general he'd disappeared for the last two weeks straight. His clothing was all in piles - muggle jeans and work robes mixed in with the finest of dress robes and dirty, hole-y socks. His books were haphazardly stacked on his bookshelves - Harry smiled as he thought of the look on 'Mione's face if she could see them! Even Hedwig's cage (which she didn't really use all that often anymore, it's not as if she was unwelcome in the halls of the school) was getting to be a bit on the... well... disgusting side.
Harry heaved a sigh and contemplated just calling it an early night and ignoring the mess once more. Somewhere in the back of his head though he heard a familiar voice - one that sounded disturbingly like that of his Aunt Petunia's from all those years ago - shrieking and telling him to get up right away and finish with the bloody chores. Just the thought that he might continue hearing that voice was enough to shake him from his haze at the window and he turned to scan the room, wondering where on Earth to start. He summoned is wand from here it lay on top of the pile of parchments and quills and other such things on his desk and set about straightening the books. His quarters weren't large, which was fine by him, and mostly consisted of a sort of living-room-slash-bedroom and then a private bath. In the main room was his desk (which he now sorted and threw out most of which was on top - used parchment and broken quills from his attempts at writing his teaching plan), one wall completely covered with bookshelves (his collection only used up two full shelves of one set), a small closet (plenty large enough for him, though), and of course his bed. There was also a very comfortable reclining chair, that he'd brought with him from the flat in London - it was deep maroon, slightly over-stuffed, and one of the few real luxuries he allowed himself. The private bath was simple enough, which he didn't mind at all.
He lazily sat down cross-legged next to the piles of clothes and levitated (what he assumed were) the dirty ones to a pile in the back corner of the room (for the house elves to take) and then swished his wand around some more and the remaining piles folded and hung themselves appropriately in his closet. Harry laid down on the newly cleared floor, the rough stones covered with a rug of maroon and gold (which were the colors most prevalent in his design, if you could call it that, much to the displeasure of Flix, who preferred purple), and stretched his hands high over his head, satisfied that he'd done something and quieted the Petunia-Voice in his head. Harry closed his eyes, letting the quiet of the rising night wash over him and considered finally letting himself sleep. Instead, he sat up, got up to his feet, and went to his newly cleared off desk to write a few owls (Hedwig would take them when she came in, whether he was asleep or not, he knew).
'Mione,
How are you? How's the flat? Finish taking over my room yet? I'll have you know, professor's quarters here have more bookshelves than even YOU would know what to do with (makes my small collection seem sadder than it is, though).
Well, I'm a bit bored, and missing the city and our place and your chattering on about boring topics like books and research and Ministry stuffs. Want to come up and have dinner? I was thinking of getting a bunch of the old group together - though I haven't heard from Ron in ages, so I don't know if any letters will get to him quick enough to come. We can do dinner in the Great Hall here at Hoggie's and get everyone caught up, what do you think?
Do let me know, Hedwig won't like to come back without a reply, you know that.
Harry
PS. Oh, and Flix says hello.
Gred & Forge:
Dinner this weekend? I'm bored as a stone here at the Castle and have decided to liven up the old place a bit for the holidays, what do you think? Won't be any fun without you two - How about Saturday night? I figure we can take over the Great Hall. Send a reply back with Hedwig, she'll wait.
-Harry
Neville,
How've you been man? I heard your name on the wireless the other day, something about Herbology? Alchemy? I'm not sure - it's not as if it's a rare occurance to hear about you in the news. How've you been though? It's been too long since we've all gotten together, so I'm having Hermione and the Twins and Charlie up for dinner this weekend, I'm living at Hogwarts now, taking over DADA finally. Saturday night? Can't wait to catch up.
-Harry
Charlie,
Hey there! How've you been? It feels like it's been forever since your mum dragged everyone around for a family dinner, so I'm sort of taking the reigns on this one. Free on Saturday? I'm up at Hogwarts, all settled in now and bored as can be, let's take over the Great Hall for a bit, eh? Everyone else should be coming, can't wait to see you too.
-Harry
Katie (& Oliver and Alicia as well!),
Here there, stranger! Hogwarts is NOT the same without Quidditch, let me tell you. And so, I'm having a "Harry is bored out of his mind stuck at school and so all the old Gryffs need to come to his rescue" sort of dinner thing (think you can bring up some of that firewhiskey your pub is so famous for? I'll kick in for it if you want, of course) this weekend. Saturday night, here at the Great Hall - imagine, us drinking in the Hall? I can't wait to catch up, hope all is well, and I'll see you this weekend (Hedwig is trained to just NOT take no for an answer, as a warning). Oh! And be sure to pass the news on to Oliver and Alicia (you still see them a bit, right?)
-Harry
Parvati (& Lavender as well!)-
I know I said I'd write after running to your at your shoppe at Diagon, but things got a bit hectic - I've taken up position of DADA professor at our Hoggies. You've got to come up, I'm having a whole bunch of the old Gryffs together for dinner this weekend, and I'd love to catch up more than "oh good to see you too."
Saturday night, hope to see you there,
Harry
Harry's hand cramped a bit and he realized he'd been writing for just over an hour. Muttering a charm to strengthen the torchlight that kept his room glowing, he saw the faintest remains of the scars on his hand and set the pen down gently. The reminder of the Umbridge torture always made him a bit skittish about pens... He folded and labeled each of the invitations for Hedwig to take and crawled into bed, looking forward to hearing back from everyone and making plans for the weekend in his mind. Taking off his glasses just as a list of things to give the house elves unraveled in his thoughts, he fell straight asleep.