Basis Of Everything
Guess who's started up a Marauders Era RPG?
Yep, that's right: me.
So... we're fairly new but we would love you forever if you came and joined in.
it's the calm before the storm...
James could barely feel the little round box that his fingers were so tightly clasped around anymore. All he could see were the people standing in front of him, wrapped in a tight embrace, their bodies so close to one another that it was almost becoming difficult to tell where one stopped and the other began. He was seeing red, but for once in his rash, impulsive life, he didn't act on it. His best friend, and the woman he loved... He threw the box into the shrubs and stormed away, cursing the day he ever laid eyes on Lily Evans.
*
Bellatrix and Rodolphus had grown up together. They had been friends, had shared secrets and heck, had even caused a bit of havoc together. They were both attractive, but arranged marriages always seemed to suck the romance out of the room. There was also the small problem of Lavanya Yaxley.
Lavanya was still in school, but already her beauty was spoke of across the country. She had been approached about a career as a model, had lazily accepted, and went about the business of remaining beautiful. Everything about her was skin deep, down to the company she kept. She was currently stringing along Antonin and Rico, the boys fighting over her and consistently vying for her attention. What she wanted was a challenge.
*
Irma Pince wasn't always a hardened woman. She still felt as though she was barely out of Hogwarts herself, and perhaps that's why it started... she felt so old these days, and she simply was NOT old. She was young, and had a dark, shadowy look about her that was quite alluring to most of the men who stopped by her library.
One in particular kept a roving eye. He had always been studious, so his stays at the library weren't suspicious. Was it his fault that last year, they had hired a beautiful young Librarian to take over for the aging bat who had preceeded her? Was it his fault that he stayed late hours, often out-doing his own homework in order to spend more time in her company?
Perhaps that last part was his fault.
*
Surely it was the schoolyears that were the hard ones? SURELY, when one was an adult, the whold drama of teen angst was over?
Surely?
Bugger it if it wasn't the greatest love triangle with six sides that ever existed inside the walls of Hogwarts, and there was no longer the excuse of teenage hormones to tide them over. It started when new staff was needed, the older ones more inclined towards retiring happily in their golden years. There had been a new staff over the past seven years, each year bringing on a new professor. That was all well and good, until the numbers evened out, and on the night of Professor Harlan James's welcoming party, when the young gang of professors were celebrating at the nearby Three Broomsticks. Some knew one another from school, and some even had past relationships. Someone - no one will admit to who - pointed out that they had three girls, three boys, all within the same age range.
Then, it got awkward.
*
It's October 1976; school has started in earnest, and everyone is settling in for yet another perfectly normal year at Hogwarts. The homework is piled on, the threat of looming exams being beaten into ignorant minds, but all the while... something doesn't feel right.
It's so much darker this year than it was last year. The days seem to be shortening beyond comprehension. The fog is thick and cold and constant, not to mention the fact that everyone seems so glum. There are disappearances being noted in the newspaper, but everything seems vague, as though someone knows what is going on, but too afraid to voice it aloud.
The teachers seem a bit on edge, uncertain how to handle the evil that is lurking in the shadows. The students, for the most part, are completely unaware of what is going on, even those whose parents are deep in the throes of swearing their allegiance to one side or another. The students, it seems, live in a world of their own, one untouched by the misery and doom of the outside world.
Still, there seems to be something very unpleasant lurking unsaid, something creeping and crawling into the very veins of those it infects. Though the Head students are trying to keep morale at a high by organising a Halloween Party, there are some things that cannot be fought.
There they are, standing on the edge at the basis of everything, wondering when they will fall
two weeks later...
It was supposed to be a night of frivolous fun for the students, but they could not even be granted that small pleasure.
Albus Dumbledore sat behind his desk, his head rested in his hands as he looked down once more at the parchment in front of him. It had come by owl less than a half hour ago, and had chilled him to his very core.
This was his fault.
Standing slowly, Dumbledore looked out at the faces of those assembled before him. He had taken them from the merriment of the Halloween Dance, and though it pained him to do so, certain people needed to be informed. The Heads of Houses, Professors, and Head Students all stood in his office, their faces anxious, none of them speaking.
"There has been an attack." He explained, gesturing to the sheet of parchment on his desk, "I have just been informed of it."
Dumbledore looked quite old as he stood there, perfectly still. His voice was the only one that spoke, and when he fell silent, the room was still except for the quiet, albeit unconvincing snores of the portraits all around him. He relapsed into his memory; not a week ago, a man had arrived at Hogsmeade, one unwelcome in his school. He had sent a message to Dumbledore, demanding that he hand over the school or innocent lives would be lost. Nobody, save the Heads of Houses, knew the extents to which Dumbledore went to protect his school and those students in its walls, and no one could doubt their security.
Albus Dumbledore was not a foolish or stupid man, but a short sighted one in this case.
"Beauxbatons has been destroyed," He explained, his voice trailing away amidst the gasps and shocked cries of those in his office, "at the hands of Voldemort."
A shudder ran through the room, and only the Head Students looked confused. For their sake, he explained, "Voldemort is a Wizard the likes of which this world hasn't seen in quite some time. He believed that he could bully his way into power... and perhaps, without the efforts of those brave enough to deny him this, he would have already succeeded. Attacking Beauxbatons, I believe, is just the beginning. He has the ways and means to destroy and kill many..."
"The survivors," he continued after a brief pause, "few though they may be, have already been offered a home in our walls. The injured, the dead... uncountable numbers..."
Shaking his head sadly, he looked out of his window, letting the silence filter into his office, "I will explain more in the morning... let the students have one more night of carefree fun before I inform them of the way in which their world has crumpled."
*
"Although many students are opting to stay at home, those whose parents believe in safety are being sent here. In two weeks, our houses will become extended and made to accommodate whomever we welcome. They will be sorted among us, and we will treat them as our own. A babel charm will be cast so that we can all understand one another, despite our language barriers."
Through the quiet sniffing and silence of shed tears, Dumbledore looked out at the faces of his students, "At Hogwarts, you will be as safe as you allow yourselves to be. The town of Hogsmeade has been given the highest protection that we can offer, and no harm shall befall you on my watch... I beg of you, do not search for trouble. Anyone who searches for Voldemort will find their safety compromised."
And though his words were sincere, there was still a sense of unease all through Hogwarts. If Beauxbatons could be destroyed so easily, what chance did they stand?
Basis of Everything: come and join.
Yep, that's right: me.
So... we're fairly new but we would love you forever if you came and joined in.
it's the calm before the storm...
James could barely feel the little round box that his fingers were so tightly clasped around anymore. All he could see were the people standing in front of him, wrapped in a tight embrace, their bodies so close to one another that it was almost becoming difficult to tell where one stopped and the other began. He was seeing red, but for once in his rash, impulsive life, he didn't act on it. His best friend, and the woman he loved... He threw the box into the shrubs and stormed away, cursing the day he ever laid eyes on Lily Evans.
*
Bellatrix and Rodolphus had grown up together. They had been friends, had shared secrets and heck, had even caused a bit of havoc together. They were both attractive, but arranged marriages always seemed to suck the romance out of the room. There was also the small problem of Lavanya Yaxley.
Lavanya was still in school, but already her beauty was spoke of across the country. She had been approached about a career as a model, had lazily accepted, and went about the business of remaining beautiful. Everything about her was skin deep, down to the company she kept. She was currently stringing along Antonin and Rico, the boys fighting over her and consistently vying for her attention. What she wanted was a challenge.
*
Irma Pince wasn't always a hardened woman. She still felt as though she was barely out of Hogwarts herself, and perhaps that's why it started... she felt so old these days, and she simply was NOT old. She was young, and had a dark, shadowy look about her that was quite alluring to most of the men who stopped by her library.
One in particular kept a roving eye. He had always been studious, so his stays at the library weren't suspicious. Was it his fault that last year, they had hired a beautiful young Librarian to take over for the aging bat who had preceeded her? Was it his fault that he stayed late hours, often out-doing his own homework in order to spend more time in her company?
Perhaps that last part was his fault.
*
Surely it was the schoolyears that were the hard ones? SURELY, when one was an adult, the whold drama of teen angst was over?
Surely?
Bugger it if it wasn't the greatest love triangle with six sides that ever existed inside the walls of Hogwarts, and there was no longer the excuse of teenage hormones to tide them over. It started when new staff was needed, the older ones more inclined towards retiring happily in their golden years. There had been a new staff over the past seven years, each year bringing on a new professor. That was all well and good, until the numbers evened out, and on the night of Professor Harlan James's welcoming party, when the young gang of professors were celebrating at the nearby Three Broomsticks. Some knew one another from school, and some even had past relationships. Someone - no one will admit to who - pointed out that they had three girls, three boys, all within the same age range.
Then, it got awkward.
*
It's October 1976; school has started in earnest, and everyone is settling in for yet another perfectly normal year at Hogwarts. The homework is piled on, the threat of looming exams being beaten into ignorant minds, but all the while... something doesn't feel right.
It's so much darker this year than it was last year. The days seem to be shortening beyond comprehension. The fog is thick and cold and constant, not to mention the fact that everyone seems so glum. There are disappearances being noted in the newspaper, but everything seems vague, as though someone knows what is going on, but too afraid to voice it aloud.
The teachers seem a bit on edge, uncertain how to handle the evil that is lurking in the shadows. The students, for the most part, are completely unaware of what is going on, even those whose parents are deep in the throes of swearing their allegiance to one side or another. The students, it seems, live in a world of their own, one untouched by the misery and doom of the outside world.
Still, there seems to be something very unpleasant lurking unsaid, something creeping and crawling into the very veins of those it infects. Though the Head students are trying to keep morale at a high by organising a Halloween Party, there are some things that cannot be fought.
There they are, standing on the edge at the basis of everything, wondering when they will fall
two weeks later...
It was supposed to be a night of frivolous fun for the students, but they could not even be granted that small pleasure.
Albus Dumbledore sat behind his desk, his head rested in his hands as he looked down once more at the parchment in front of him. It had come by owl less than a half hour ago, and had chilled him to his very core.
This was his fault.
Standing slowly, Dumbledore looked out at the faces of those assembled before him. He had taken them from the merriment of the Halloween Dance, and though it pained him to do so, certain people needed to be informed. The Heads of Houses, Professors, and Head Students all stood in his office, their faces anxious, none of them speaking.
"There has been an attack." He explained, gesturing to the sheet of parchment on his desk, "I have just been informed of it."
Dumbledore looked quite old as he stood there, perfectly still. His voice was the only one that spoke, and when he fell silent, the room was still except for the quiet, albeit unconvincing snores of the portraits all around him. He relapsed into his memory; not a week ago, a man had arrived at Hogsmeade, one unwelcome in his school. He had sent a message to Dumbledore, demanding that he hand over the school or innocent lives would be lost. Nobody, save the Heads of Houses, knew the extents to which Dumbledore went to protect his school and those students in its walls, and no one could doubt their security.
Albus Dumbledore was not a foolish or stupid man, but a short sighted one in this case.
"Beauxbatons has been destroyed," He explained, his voice trailing away amidst the gasps and shocked cries of those in his office, "at the hands of Voldemort."
A shudder ran through the room, and only the Head Students looked confused. For their sake, he explained, "Voldemort is a Wizard the likes of which this world hasn't seen in quite some time. He believed that he could bully his way into power... and perhaps, without the efforts of those brave enough to deny him this, he would have already succeeded. Attacking Beauxbatons, I believe, is just the beginning. He has the ways and means to destroy and kill many..."
"The survivors," he continued after a brief pause, "few though they may be, have already been offered a home in our walls. The injured, the dead... uncountable numbers..."
Shaking his head sadly, he looked out of his window, letting the silence filter into his office, "I will explain more in the morning... let the students have one more night of carefree fun before I inform them of the way in which their world has crumpled."
*
"Although many students are opting to stay at home, those whose parents believe in safety are being sent here. In two weeks, our houses will become extended and made to accommodate whomever we welcome. They will be sorted among us, and we will treat them as our own. A babel charm will be cast so that we can all understand one another, despite our language barriers."
Through the quiet sniffing and silence of shed tears, Dumbledore looked out at the faces of his students, "At Hogwarts, you will be as safe as you allow yourselves to be. The town of Hogsmeade has been given the highest protection that we can offer, and no harm shall befall you on my watch... I beg of you, do not search for trouble. Anyone who searches for Voldemort will find their safety compromised."
And though his words were sincere, there was still a sense of unease all through Hogwarts. If Beauxbatons could be destroyed so easily, what chance did they stand?
Basis of Everything: come and join.