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It's summertime in Scotland; the weather has begun to clear, and the flowers are in full bloom! Now is a time for bonfires, stargazing and long nights spent with friends and family! Welcome to Wizarding Realm- an AU Harry Potter role play set in current day hogwarts!
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Ruthie · 15 · 5th · Viridian Guild · Muggleborn · 5'3
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Jun 13 2018, 09:41 PM   Link Quote
Blow off some steam, they said. It’ll be fun, they said. Well whoever thought the idea of allowing a species that was barely above a bunch of rabid animals and permitting them to fling the equivalent of their own faeces at each other deserved to be locked away. A panicked whimper escaped the shaking snake as his face hovered mere inches away from one of his greatest fears — a dirty floor. He had thought he could dodge that wad of paint Matrix style, but like so many of his failed attempts to recreate movie magic, it had merely landed him flat on his face. Or well, to be more accurate, precariously placed on his forearms and knees. Even so, that bloody time turner — whatever that foop that was — had better be worth it.

He presumed it was like a DeLorean.

Another dreary breakfast bubbled up from its bowl, not more then ten minutes ago. A grey and lifeless substitute for real food, only boasting enough nutrition to keep a person alive. Unfortunately, today he couldn’t quite savour in the delectable blandness of the whatever-this-was concoction, which really was a shame. The house elves had outdone themselves this time, the flavour truly resembling what one might imagine purgatory tasted like. Though as his tongue rolled over the mush, his brain couldn’t help but be preoccupied with the upcoming summer. Normally, the little shut-in couldn’t wait for the two months of sprawling on his bed and binge-watching every program and movie he missed until his eyes completely evaporated of all moisture. But this year that meant two months away from her. Perhaps they could write each other again, maybe they could even plan to meet somewhere. They did both live in London, after all. It seemed silly to not try for at least one meet up. In the very least, he supposed this time they could actually sit with each other on the…

Best not to think about that.

Lenny’s beady eyes drifted up to the headmistress as she prepared herself for what he could only deduce was another end of year speech. Congratulations to all for making it through another year! And maybe something about their O.W.Ls, which the fifth year supposed he should’ve cared about, but… meh. Thanks to being fifteen forever, this was like his third year taking it anyway. His spoon clattered lightly against his bowl as the faceless, scuttling Pink Lady mentioned rewarding them all with a game. There were certain games the small snake was fairly well adept with. Video games, for one, and manipulation games in which the only rules included lying and cheating to get ahead. Games that involved a certain amount of physically prowess and skills, however, were not among them. His eyes shot straight to the door, already mapping out his escape route as he laid his spoon against the bowl and began neatly folding his napkin. He slowly started pushing off his seat…

And then the prizes came into play.

By this point in his slimy existence, he should’ve been used to staring at the floor. Yet no matter how many times he had been forced to meet this awful place, one where so many shoes had trod over it — shoes that carried the outdoors in with them on their disgusting soles — it never got any easier. There was one such incident he vividly remembered, no matter how hard he tried to forget. But then again, he hadn’t been alone at that time. In his panic, he had almost forgotten where he had started heading to. The moment the proverbial shit started flying, the Great Hall falling into the chaotic realm of teenage greed, his brain had sent an interdepartmental memo to his legs asking where to go. His legs didn’t even hesitate in their answer, finding themselves making a bee line straight for the Ravenclaw table. Of course, he had barely made it a third of the way there before attempting a Keanu Reeve and hitting the deck.

His breath came out and short and shallow, confronted by his own personal ‘Nam, feeling the coldness of the stone floor pressed against his forearms… and whatever else happened to be lying on top of it. He screwed his shut, trying to refocus his mind onto the mission at hand. Step One: Find Gretchen. Step Two: ??????? Step Three: Time Turner! How strange it was that when he had been magically glued to the eagle’s side he had wanted nothing more than to be apart. With a deep breath, he slowly pushed himself back onto his feet, “Gretchen?” He peered around the swelling sea of people, primary bursts of colour ricocheting across the room, and he felt another surge of panic threatening to grip his throat. Why, in recent years, did it always have to end in such madness? “Gretchen!?” He spun around, looking for any sign of the short witch, or the tuxedo kneazle-cat that was sure to accompany her, “Gretch— AHHH!

And there she was.

It was hard to say whether she had been searching for him, but in the moment he had come face-to-face with her, he didn’t care. And if ever there was a moment to make movie magic, this was it, “I was on that gross, dirty, gross floor!” But, instead, he said that… Embarrassing, though the squeamish Slytherin was still clearly shaken by the whole traumatic ordeal, “I mean,” he shook his head, “.. let’s get the fuck out of here.” And, for the first time since the game had started, he whipped out his wand — as if it was any use to him — crouching low in front of Gretchen, bringing his arm to the side and waving his hand as to motion her to stay behind him.

“Follow me if you want to.. um… keep your clothes clean… of paint.”

Movie magic.

Tagged: @Gretchen Kirke-Faust

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Robin · 15 · 5th Year · Viridian Guild Leader · Pureblood · 5'
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Jun 17 2018, 12:56 PM   Link Quote
For the past years, Gretchen Kirke-Faust had looked forward to the summer, and to going home. She had no friends at Hogwarts that she missed, and after months of pretending to like the company of her peers, at home she was finally able to freely be herself. No fake polite smiles necessary, no coquettish quips or witty remarks to hide her anxieties behind. At home, it would just be her, Billy, Anthony and the ghost of Nicholas de la Fontaine – for surely her father would be busy at the Ministry again. Gretchen was an introverted girl, and while most social interactions drained her, her own family’s company was effortless and comfortable, almost like being alone – but better. She’d be able to tell Anthony all about the new potions she’d learned to brew, which was an art that honestly didn’t interest the vampire at all but he’d be excited for her all the same, and she was grateful for that. Without the strict rules of a boarding school, she’d also be able to stay up all night again, a rhythm that felt more natural to her than the early risings Hogwarts expected of her. She would fill her evenings playing chess with Nicky (she’d move the board pieces for him since he couldn’t touch them), and spinning at her spinning wheel – which was Gretchen’s most stress relieving activity. She didn’t sew, or knit, with the thread she spun, but she liked watching the wheel spin, and her thoughts mulled over in her head with it. It was relaxing, and cleared her mind. Spinning was something she missed at Hogwarts, and she could’ve certainly used such occupational therapy right now, because for once, her mind was not at ease at the thought of going home.

The plates cleared from the tables, and Gretchen watched the chatter around her slowly die off as her fellow Ravenclaws eventually turned their attention to the headmistress. Surely the Pink Lady would have something to say about their exams, about OWLs and NEWTs, and wish them a nice summer, as she did every year. That was one of the reasons why Gretchen was apprehensive about going home this year. She was a precocious student, and academically inclined, and could be confident about her grades. Yet whenever she actually saw her rapport card in her father’s hands, that confidence would be gone in an instant and she’d feel anxious and uncertain – what if she had scored an Exceeds Expectations instead of an Outstanding somewhere? And an Acceptable would most certainly not be acceptable! This summer, the rapport card that would arrive at their house in Kensington would contain her OWLs, so it was more important than ever that it would please Arthur Kirke-Faust.

That wasn’t all though. The purple-painted nails of Gretchen’s left hand tapped gently against the brown wood of the Ravenclaw table while the Pink Lady started her speech, as if she needed a rhythm to think her thoughts to. Things had changed at home last summer, after the train accident. Instead of looking happy and relieved that she was home, Anthony had carried a perpetually worried expression around her. He’d even suggested apparating her to Hogsmeade in September, instead of having her take the train again, but Gretchen had declined the offer – for her own reasons, which Anthony didn’t understand. Just like how he didn’t know where all those letters were coming from and who she was writing to last summer, and she’d known it had bothered her guardian – no, worried him, like it always did when she kept something from him – but she’d felt like she couldn’t explain. Even now, she couldn’t, and Lenny was another reason she didn't look forward to the summer. Last year he wrote to her, but that was because of what had happened. Would he write her if she wasn't terribly injured?

As slowly as breakfast had passed for Gretchen, with all these anxieties to silently fret over, as fast did the events after unfold. The Pink Lady explaining the game, showing the prizes, and the students jumping into action, all happened in a matter of minutes, and Gretchen quickly got up as well, her wand already in her hand. Billy was hissing and growling wildly at what he perceived as sudden violence, suspiciously eyeing the paint that splattered against the table and floor. His owner wasted no time in grabbing her own wand, all the thoughts that had plagued her over breakfast now banished to her subconscious – where they belonged – while she focussed solely on her immediate surroundings. Her braids whipped behind her as she jumped out of the way to avoid a splash of red paint, and for a split second, a terrible memory interfered with her concentration. It manifested as the sound of a projectile sharply cutting through the air, and a window breaking. Gretchen almost fell, the sound of shattering glass had seemed so real and close-by that it had knocked the air right out of her, and when she’d regained her balance, she looked around her in bewilderment. There was no broken glass anywhere, and only paint was flying through the air. Billy stared at his witch with an almost pleading look in his yellow eyes, his growling had turned to wailing.

That’s when she heard Lenny calling her.

She got back on her feet and ran towards him, and once the Slytherin halted in front of her, it occurred to Gretchen that maybe he’d been looking for her. If her own thoughts hadn’t been so rudely interrupted by last year’s trauma, she would’ve ran straight towards his table as well. This, finally, seemed to push the unease that the memory had brought with it out of her system, and the Faust felt like herself again. They had survived an actual disaster last year. This was just a game.

Gretchen couldn’t help but grin, despite Lenny’s obvious discomfort at his brief meeting with the floor. It was just so him. As was what he said next, about getting out of there but with the focus on keeping their clothes clean. “Don’t worry,” she quipped with a smile on her purple lips, “I don’t mind doing the dirty work.” The witch meaningfully raised her inflexible, black wand in front of her, then nodded shortly towards her kneazlecat for him to follow them.

“You go first,” her eyes were on the Great Hall’s open doors, which was a short stretch from their hiding spot behind the Ravenclaw table, but it’d leave them exposed all the same. “I can cover for you.”

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@Lenny Plunkett

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