Hogwarts: A Jamjar Meme

[madam_rosmerta]

HOGWARTS: A JAMJAR MEME Wizards of all ages and from all times: whatever you were doing, wherever you were - none of that matters now. You've been brought to Hogwarts, school of witchcraft and wizardry. You’ll find yourself in the Great Hall under a starry sky, illuminated by the light of a thousand candles. What happened? Why were you brought here? How were you brought here? All questions to be answered, perhaps. But first, mingle with your kind and find a seat for yourself. This will be your home for a while. Because there is no leaving. Student, staff, you with nothing to do - all of you trapped inside the school grounds. Sorting to houses & Start-of-term feast Those of you who have not been sorted into your houses, you're guided to sit on a stool while an old hat will contemplate a proper house for you. After, you can join your housemates at their long table. The ghost of the headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, will soon give a speech once the last student is sorted... "The very best of evenings to you! Now… to our new students, welcome. To our old students, welcome back! Another year full of magical education awaits you…" He will warn you about the anti-curse charm set upon Hogwarts and how it will bring harm in equal measures to yourself. He will urge you to stay calm and have a lemondrop; they’ll be provided at all tables. Dumbledore would like you all to note few things, Hogwarts attendees: 1. This will be a continuous, no commitment necessary “storyline.” What does that mean? Depending on the level of interest, there will be at least one post per month on the 3B-DR that will continue the storyline which begins here. Players are encouraged to make top-levels in the dressing room if they want to keep this verse going with their characters. Madame Rosmerta’s made a tag specifically for this. 2. Multiple versions of characters at various ages are welcome. Whether that means there’s three Harry’s all in fifth year, or one Harry in first year, a second in third year, and a third in sixth year is up to you. All three Harry’s could also interact, depending on player preferences. AU versions of (HP)canon and non-(HP)canon characters are also welcome. Sometimes people disappear from Hogwarts and sometimes they come back. 3. Schoolwork Dumbledore's ghost will invite all characters of age and knowledge to teach their specialties to the younger wizards. If your character could be possibly a teacher, or is interested in teaching, refer to this thread to sign up for a teaching position. The courses do not need to be anything serious (unless you want them to be). If your character would be interested in a course, you can look it up from the character's toplevel. Your character doesn't need to be of student age to participate in courses. (They're free for all!) 4. Sign up for your house. Here is a thread for all the Hogwarts houses that your character could be sorted in. 5. This means… war! Are you a Death Eater? A member of the Order? Rival students? It’s likely your character will encounter someone they don’t get along with. Duels are fine, but beware that any attacks meant to cause harm (curses) will backfire on the caster. If your character doesn’t care that damage will also bounce back to them, then Dumbledore’s ghost will be intervening. He won’t tolerate harm to any of his students… even if it’s harm to Tom. 6. Housecup Of course points will be awarded and taken away by teachers and prefects. You can leave a comment in this thread for the points taken or given. Madam Rosmerta will add them up together for the next post. You can also sign up for a prefect role. Each house has one and that one will change in each post. First come, first serve is the rule, except if your character was a prefect in the last post, you can't sign up in this one. 1. Toplevel with your character Name in the title line. Do not leave an empty toplevel. Write a starter like you would to a game event. Link to preferences if you’d prefer. 2. Tag other characters The name of the game is interaction. Why is your character here? Do they want to be here? Are they being reunited with lost loved ones? 3. Have fun! Dumbledore (and Madame Rosmerta) is watching. Behave yourselves. Don’t godmod, infomod, respect other players, etc.

Comments

SIGN UP FOR YOUR HOUSE

[madam_rosmerta]

Please fill in the following form in the respective house toplevel.

<b>Character:</b> <b>House:</b> <b>Student’s Year/Professor’s Job:</b> <b>Age:</b>

GRYFFINDOR

[madam_rosmerta]

Gryffindor values bravery, daring, nerve, and chivalry. Its emblematic animal is the lion and its colors are scarlet and gold. Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington, also known as "Nearly Headless Nick", is the house ghost. The founder of the house is Godric Gryffindor.

Gryffindor corresponds to the element of Fire.

The common room is located in one of the highest towers at Hogwarts, with the entrance situated on the seventh floor in the east wing of the castle. It's guarded by a portrait of The Fat Lady. She permits entrance if given the correct password, which is changed numerous times throughout the school year.

SIGN UP TO TEACH A COURSE

[madam_rosmerta]

<b>Course name: </b> <b>Teacher:</b> <b>Description:</b> <b>Teacher's notes:</b>

Example:

Course name: Transfiguration: Never too many socks
Teacher: Albus Dumbledore
Description: The course will focus on transfiguring various items into thick socks.
Teacher's notes: There will be a lot of foolish wand waving in this class.

[negativechill]

Course name: Charms.
Teacher: Gellert Grindelwald.
Description: From beginners' level to extremely advanced charms, Professor Grindelwald nurtures his students' talents. Particularly brilliant students are taken under his wing.
Teacher's notes: Don't look at me, man.

SIGN UP FOR POINTS & PREFECTS

[madam_rosmerta]

Leave a comment to this thread for points, either given or taken. Name the house and the person the points belong to, and the reason for the reward or punishment.

Also comment if you want your character to act as a prefect for this post. One for each house. First come first serve.

James Potter

[firsttogo]

I. GREAT HALL
Whatever you were doing, wherever you were - even if that means he was dying? Apparently so.

The headmaster's speech meets James unusually grim and quiet. He knows he just died. His wife and child left behind, most likely to die right after him. This must be afterlife. The thought brings him no joy to know that he'll be spending the rest of his life in a place that he holds very dear.

But he'll sit at the Gryffindor table, like he always has, at the very place where he sat during his last year in the school, quiet and contemplative. If you look close enough, you might notice a tear or two behind his glasses.

II. GRYFFINDOR TOWER
Later, the feast is over. James is eagerly looking around in the Gryffindor tower. So much has changed since his years. So much as stayed the same.

He's going to claim his old bed, at least briefly. Find his initials carved into the wood. Some charred wood from a prank gone bad.

It'll bring a smile to his lips. Come join in the reminiscing with him!

III. QUIDDITCH PITCH
And then there's the Quidditch pitch. He'll be heading over to the broomshed the next day when morning dawns. At least he'll know what he's doing when he's up there and flying.

He doesn't know what is happening and who to believe. The ghost of Albus Dumbledore didn't exactly stick around to share that many details of the current situation.

i, PER REQUEST

[brighteyedsacrifice]

Panic, panic, panic. Baby not in vicinity. Abort mission!

Lily doesn't give a damn about what ghost Dumbledore has to say. She's not quite sure why there's a ghost of Dumbledore, either, considering he'd been alive last she'd heard. It's more than she can say for herself. Regardless, the horde of students makes it near impossible to rush to the front and demand an explanation (though she doesn't truly expect to receive one, dead is dead... right?), so with a pained look, she follows the others and heads towards Gryffindor's table.

Like waves crashing against the shore, a plethora of emotions crash against her. Sorrow, fear, loneliness, and far too many others to list. She can't think about her baby and what's become of him. Nor can she think about James. The mere thought of his name is enough to make her choke, a hot wave of prickling wetness blurring her vision.

It's really by chance she notices that mop of messy hair as soon as she does. No one--no one has ever managed to master the art of having hair which defies gravity quite like James Potter.

With a sharp cry, she's darting past smaller bodies and flinging herself beside him on the bench. Hands reach over to grip his shoulders, her eyes wide, heart pounding in her ears. Is it? She's not going mad? With a tug, she pulls him to face her.

It is him! "Oh thank Merlin!" she gasps, nearly flinging herself into his arms for a frantic hug.

Tom Riddle

[saevusacutus]

I. The Great Hall

This was...not the place he expected to be in the least. In the great hall at the school he'd once thought of as home. The place where he'd found his true purpose. He was on his feet in a heartbeat, ready to demand just why he was here. But a quick glance around stalled his tongue. Even at the Slytherin table where he'd appeared, there were looks of confusion, some more shocked than himself. Slowly, he sat down, intent to see just what was at play here. Borgin and Burke's could wait. For now.

II. In Class and After

There was much trepidation in allowing him to teach, but he was nothing if not relentless. The anti-curse protections ensure that his lessons will be theory and theory alone. Should any teacher check in on him will find his lessons are completely as advertised: no wands allowed, only lively discussions and lectures on the effects of the darkest magic out there. He does, however, mention in the earliest lessons that students are expected to keep at least a few hours of their Hogsmeade visits free, but does not expand upon this. He is always willing to linger after class, to speak with any of his students that wish further information. Each and every one of them hand picked for his class.

III. Teacher's Lounge

Having no doubt that some of the other teachers may be suspicious, he makes no attempt to hide. He spends his time among them, just as anyone else would. He has his coffee. He smiles and makes small talk. He is as charming as he'd been as a student, disarming and pleasant.

IV. After Hours

Everyone knows students should not be out of bed, but he's not a student any longer. A fact that he relishes in. He strolls confidently through the corridors, as if merely heading to finally turning after a late night of grading papers. Most nights he has one goal, and one goal only in mind. As a teacher, he now has free reign of the restricted section. And the Hogwarts library holds tomes unseen anywhere else in the world. It's merely research for future lessons. That's all.

iv

[peremare]

Everyone knows students should not be out of bed, but she's not the sort to follow such ridiculous rules. She's above them, you see. What use does anyone have for an old man's stifling ways, least of all her? The headmaster's a loon. Her father say as much countless times.

This year, she'll graduate. Like all the years before, she'll do what she wants, when she wants, and no one will be the wiser after the fact. It's simply how things work. Having been held back from sneaking out sooner due to the incessant chattering of her roommates, it's not until the wee hours of the morning that Bellatrix finally manages to slip out of the Slytherin common room. There's a group of others, all her age, who intend to march through the forests. She should be heading that group!

Her rush to reach the outer grounds of Hogwarts makes her careless, alas... Imagine her surprise when she nearly runs head first into the new DADA professor. A handsome bloke, if unremarkable in his name and mysterious origins. There's plenty of others--purebloods from one of the sacred twenty-eight--who are just as attractive. That still hadn't stopped her from eyeing him up upon his advancement to the position.

"Professor," she murmurs, head tilting in greeting. Is it too late to be out? Silly her. Of course she certainly won't act as if she's in the wrong.

Lily Potter

[brighteyedsacrifice]

1. THE GREAT HALL
One moment she'd been blinded, screaming, agony--and the next, she's here. Back in Hogwarts, where she'd once belonged, but certainly doesn't right in this moment. Blinking, Lily casts a wary glance around her. ...Is she dreaming? Certainly this is a joke. A terribly unfunny one, at that.

The biggest joke, perhaps, is the fact that she's staring at a ghost of her old headmaster. Does that mean she's a ghost, as well? A quick glance at her hands reveals that she's corporeal. Not dead? But she'd been...

With a furrowed brow, she's jostled toward the Gryffindor area like an animal being herded by a mindless pack. And mind like one being herded, her feet move automatically, guiding her along until she reaches those all too familiar benches. Habit dictates she claims her old spot, where she and the girls once frequented.

Are you sitting beside her during the sorting ceremony? If so, please excuse her. She's not quite in the mood for celebrations--worrying as she is--though she'll give the obligatory claps when a new Gryffindor is placed.

Or perhaps you're the poor sod she bumps into in her rush to the teacher's table after the food's been had? "Excuse me!" she gasps, green eyes sparing you a quick glance before swiveling back up to where Dumbledore'd been. Gone. Poof. "Oh, bugger!"


2. GRYFFINDOR COMMON ROOM
Alright, now she's truly starting to fret. With Dumbledore making his hasty disappearance, she's forced to trod old and familiar steps, coming face to face with a portrait she'd be more than happy to have been rid of. The Fat Lady is a troll, through and through. Dramatic and annoying. She's no patience for passwords, and is quick to a verbal lashing when the woman says, for the fourth time, that her password is incorrect. This will continue until someone lets her in.

In the common room, she's sitting in her old spot, alone. No girls. No Marauders. Nobody she recognizes, and she's convinced this is some sort of nightmare. Where's her baby? Her family? James--he--her eyes well with tears, throat closing up as that memory hits her.

Give her a day or two, and she'll be a wee bit more approachable. Maybe.


3. POTIONS CLASS
It's taken her a little bit to bounce back from the initial shock, but once she has, she grimly accepts her fate. Fine, then. This ridiculousness will have to end at some point, yes? And until that point, she'll play along. She'll even take on a job, when the offer's made. Slughorn might've squawked upon the discovery that his old--dead, which is decidedly less impressive than she'd imagined--student was following in his footsteps (though perhaps she shouldn't use the term quite literally, seeing as she was no lush).

With her course description shared, she'll be in her new classroom, looking over the ingredients she's gathered for today's students. It's all with a note of surreality that she stands at the wrong side of the room, her red hair pinned back so as not to get in the way. So many eyes on her... but she greets everyone with a smile, regardless of whether or not her heart's fully in it, and she'll introduce herself as one should.

2

[lycanthpuppy]

Remus has been giving her odd looks for a bit, because she looks an awful lot like his friend Lily, just much older, but he hopes that's not true. Not because that'd mean some weird time travel thing is happening here, that seems like part of what's going on anyway, but because he doesn't want his friend to grow up to look so haunted.

He doesn't want to bother her when she's clearly upset, but he doesn't feel right just letting her be either. Especially if it turns out she is Lily.

"Sorry to bother you, but-- Are you okay?" He's not really sure he can do anything to help, really, but he knows just asking can mean a lot.

Remus Lupin, babby edition

[lycanthpuppy]

[Open to interacting with older Remus' why not. I default to action-spam but I'll match prose]

1. during the feast;

[He'd dozed off on the train to school and when he'd woken up, the train had arrived, his friends were gone, there were loads more people he'd never seen before (not just the new first years either), and Dumbledore was a ghost?

Is he still dreaming? This feels too real to be a dream. He doesn't even recognize half the people sat at Gryffindor table, and many of the professors are entirely new too.]

Does anyone know what's going on here?


2. gryffindor common room;

[Well, this is still the same, at least. He still hasn't seen James or Sirius or Peter though (or at least not the ones he knows, the ones he'd left on the train).

He feels more alone now than he had coming to school his very first year. He plops down in a chair by the fire, hugging his knees to his chest and resting his chin on them. He'd been looking forward to seeing them again all summer and he'd only just seen them again on the train and now they were gone! It's not fair.]


3. library;

[He's still not entirely convinced this isn't a weird dream, so... time to find some books on dream magic!

It's not as much fun doing research like this by himself as it was doing it with his friends to figure out their secret plan to help him with his transformations, but... maybe he'll just wake up soon, if he doesn't figure it out before then.]

2.

[perpetuallypeaky]

[Hogwarts had changed. He'd only just begun to feel at home at his new school – had even made friends with some boys in his own year – when all of a sudden one morning he'd gone down to breakfast and everything had been different. Like the whole year had started all over again, but without any of the familiar faces he'd come to rely on to keep him company.

Feeling terribly alone, Remus trudges up to Gryffindor Tower after the Start-of-Term Feast (the second such feast he'd been to this year alone), thinking that perhaps if he goes to bed, he'll wake up tomorrow and everything will have righted itself again.

Climbing through the portal into the common room, he spies a boy sitting alone by the fire – the first boy near to his age that he's seen all day. Uncertain, Remus hovers awkwardly by one of the sofas, feeling terribly shy. At least the other boy looks about as lonely as he feels, which helps him gather the courage to speak.]

Er. Hello.

Remus Lupin (professor age)

[lupine314]

I. GREAT HALL
It's not so long ago that Remus sat in the staff table of the great hall. He doesn't quite know where he's supposed to go now. Instead of finding a seat for himself, he hovers, looking around, grabbing a bite to eat onto a plate but not really eating it.

He attempts to talk with Dumbledore's ghost before the man disappears, which is not happening. Eventually he just leans against the wall and starts taking head count of people, old and new, faces that he hasn't seen for ages...

Some that will make him freeze and put down the plate, hold onto his wand carefully, some that will make his face twist with grief. And some that will make him smile a relieved, fond smile.

It's like a bizarre dream. And that's what he expects it to be. Here now and gone in the next moment.


II. KNOW THY BOGGART CLASS
A few days later the classes start. Professor Lupin is late, as per usual. He slips into the class without any fanfares in his rugged, well-worn robes, carrying a record player.

"Take your seats, please," he says when he gets to the front of the class and eyes the collection of students he's been given.

"Does anyone know what a Boggart is?"

---

Later there's a line forming in front of the wardrobe and playful music at the background. Remus looks over at the next student with a patient smile. "Wand at the ready? Do you remember the incantation?"

ii

[lycanthpuppy]

This is so weird. One of his teachers has the same name as him, has even more visible scars than he does, and the record player he brings in looks just like the one at home. One of his teachers is him, just... a lot older.

Remus knows a lot about Boggarts already, his dad talks about them all the time back at home, but he stays quiet unless called on. It's gotta be breaking some law with time travel or something, to talk to his older self, right?

Then it's his turn with the Boggart, and of course he remembers the incantation, so he just steps forward and the Boggart turns into a glowing, white orb that Remus has never actually seen while fully himself since he was four years old.

Lily Evans (AU)

[lightmagic]

grounds

[ Lily doesn't go out in the Hogwarts grounds to be social. She goes there to find places to be alone, to sit quietly and decompress and not have to deal with the fact that she's suddenly back at Hogwarts, full of memories that apparently haven't happened yet. It wears on her and makes her snappish with her fellow students. Sometimes she sits by the lake reading, other times she goes further out on her trek to be alone.

She's never been frightened of the forbidden forest and she often lingers at the outskirts of them, not quite in them but close enough that most people leave her be. Most, of course, doesn't mean all. Still, best not to sneak up on her if one doesn't want to be hexed (not cursed, mind) by the brightest witch of a generation. ]

great hall

[ It's so ridiculous and disheartening and confusing and Lily hates it. All of it. The wrongness is everywhere but it's never more visible than sitting at the Gryffindor table and looking around at faces she's never met and doesn't recognize. She forces herself to eat because it would be stupid not to but it doesn't stop her from categorizing and cataloging everyone she sees. She watches for people she knows, and certain ones hit her harder than others across all houses and faculty alike.

She's trying to geet herself settled. It's difficult but she can at least pretend. Some people know a life she's never led and that bothers her too. Still, she's functioning. Going to classes. The ghost of Dumbledore won't tell her anything. Still as infuriating as ever.

If she's not seated at the table, she's on her way in or out, usually with her bookbag or some kind of notes with her. She's trying to find a way out. ]

classes

[ Lily is sharp as a whipcrack and brilliant as the sun - she has years more experience than she should but here she is, clawing her way through classes she shouldn't have to take anymore, already took before. She's subdued but there's something almost frightening in the way she uses magic - she uses her wand if she's urged but so much of her magic is inherent and instinctive and open-handed and silent that really there's little need for her to. Magic breathes out of her and it's too much for someone that looks only seventeen.

That's all right.

Classes are the one place though that she can shut her brain off and just feel the way magic works, the way it does just what it's supposed to do. She's not showing off, she's just being. Whether it's just classes with her fellow Gryffindors or classes being paired with other houses, it doesn't matter.

Lily Evans is and always has been a prodigy. ]

ground; massive shitposting

[purports]

[ it's irritating being back here. he doesn't particularly mind regaining his youthfulness (although, arguably, he wasn't that old before), but, of all the places to waste it in, he is stuck back in bloody hogwarts.

what's worse is all the familiar faces, old and young of both comrades, enemies, and comrades-turned-enemies alike; not to mention, the alive and the i'm going to have to kill you again, aren't i?

it's bollocks.

the only thing person making this even remotely tolerable is his wife girlfriend wife-turned-girlfriend (but still ostensibly his wife). without her, a lot of people would most likely be dead right now. yes, he has zero chill about this because emotions suck. fight him.

anyway, he's sneaking up on you, lily. have fun with that (but also sup). ]

sirius black / professor

[thedogfather]

the great hall;
Sirius hasn't ever had any great expectations of death; after all, most of his life was lived very much in the moment, expecting to be invincible. It takes him a moment to even realize he's gone and died at all, considering the smooth, quick transition from the veil to.. well, to wherever this place is. He'd always hoped for an afterlife; as far as Sirius is concerned, there's absolutely nothing at all worse than, well, than nothing. Even pain and suffering are preferable to nonexistence, to the cold, boring loneliness of the void. Not to mention, Lily and James, and Regulus too - he couldn't bring himself to consider the fact that they could be gone, evaporated - that he would never see them again.

Perhaps he might not have expected to have the opportunity so soon, but when you're fighting a war, it's.. well, it's inevitable, isn't it? In many ways. At any rate, if there's going to be an afterlife, being a professor at Hogwarts is just about the best he could have chosen; all of his very best memories are here, after all, in these halls. The only way for it to become better would be to find those he's lost.

They're bound to be around here somewhere, yeah? He'll happily stuff his face with this incredible food in the meantime, though.

gryffindor tower
Oh he'll absolutely be poking around up here, finding his favorite old haunts, reclining in his old bed; ah, the memories; it's all the same, even down to the subtle smells of it. Excuse him while he takes a nap.

magical engineering;
Well, perhaps he was wrong about the afterlife thing. Despite the.. well, oddities and anomalies taking place, everything here feels quite real, and some of the people he's met certainly don't remember dying before arriving here. So, deep philosophical thoughts about death and existence and parallel universes aside.. Sirius is quite happy to be here, doing something he loves.

He's got a soft spot for kids, too, and generally speaking his classes are noisy, raucous, and fun. Very hands-on, texts generally used only for reference. They're working outside today, it's warm and sunny, and on several rickety tables are arranged several odd things - bits of wood and straw and fluff, little ceramic bowls of varying shapes, chicken wire, wicker, stones, fabric, small panes of glass - all number of things.

"So who here can offer a guess as to what a magical engineer does, eh?" Sirius asks, from where he's leaning back against the nearest table, sleeves rolled up and fingers curled loosely around the lip of the tabletop, wand in his pocket.

the great hall

[oncedead]

After seeing mum, it's not so much of a surprise to see Sirius but Harry's heart is about to explode at that point. He's never known his mother, but he knew Sirius and he misses his godfather still, like an aching wound to his side.

"Sirius!" he's yelling already from half a table row away. Then he's running towards him and eventually will wrap him into a tight, tight hug, his eyes squinting shut when he squeezes his godfather.

"I missed you," he whispers and there's a lump in his throat that just doesn't want to go away.

Harry Potter

[oncedead]

I. GREAT HALL
There's a brief opportunity to catch him before he's going to be rushing away to meet his mum. He's sitting at the Gryffindor table and most likely running after Dumbledore's ghost, probably trying to follow him to the back and being stopped by magically locked doors.

Stop him? Chat with him until he's going to see his dead relatives and friends?

II. GRYFFINDOR TOWER & SCHOOL GROUNDS
The emotional rollercoaster that just keeps happening with people who should be dead is taking its toll on Harry. Gryffindor tower is just as bad as the Great Hall. There's mum and Sirius, Remus... And he honestly doesn't know how to handle the urge to cry and laugh at the same time. At least not after the first couple of hours.

A breather is needed, isn't it?

He's going to just slip into Moaning Myrtle's bathroom or take a walk by the quidditch pitch. Hogwarts in his time is restored to its former glory. Yet, you can feel the war in its halls, see it in little marks, almost like post-it notes, scars, smoothed out cracks in the walls or ceilings, darkening on the wood panelling where a curse was hit.

Harry doesn't pay these things much of mind, but they're there, a firm reminder that it actually happened.

Maybe you'll find him outside, under the stone corridors, just staring at the mountains surrounding the school grounds.

III. CLASSES
Now, Harry didn't have time to finish his school. Now he's happy to sit in class and study. Teach him anything you like. He'll take notes, listen with interest, probably score really well too.

Though, of course, like usual, something fishy is happening and he's just incapable of keeping his fingers out of it. Perhaps he isn't exactly paying attention like he should?

II. Corridors

[putorius]

While Harry was grateful for all of this, Draco was continually unsettled. From where he stood the war was poised to happen, all sides crouched and ready to spring. The first shot had yet to truly fire. He was meant to be that shot. But his goal seemed further and further away with every passing moment. He needed to find out what was going on, and why Hogwarts was all wrong now.

So wrapped up in trying to figure out how to make this all happen, he moved through the halls between classes with his head down, too wrapped up in his own thoughts and planning to pay attention. It was only out of habit that he slammed his shoulder into Harry's as they passed each other, with a half-hearted "watch it," called back to him.

evan rosier | graduate (post-death)

[shorted]

great hall

[ well, fuck him. so this is what hell looks like. he is fairly certain he saw the last of his days when alastor bloody moody took his final shot at him. no way he could have survived it and ended up in actual hogwarts, so this must be hell.

his own personal hell.

at least it has food, except he is highly skeptical dead people need to eat. then again, what would he know? he hasn't been deceased for very long. it's also a bit on the suspicious side why there are so many familiar faces. none he particularly likes, but that's to be expected.

he's just going to sit and stare at everyone with a "what the fuck" expresssion while he eats. ]

lurking wandering

[ it turns out he's not dead, but he's still in hell.

at the very least, he's not obligated to attend classes. he's already graduated for fuck's sake. most people may get nostalgic about walking through the school, must dredge up plenty of fond childhood memories, and feel a certain comfort in being back. evan feels none of the above.

that being said, hogwarts doesn't bring back bad memories. it was actually a reprieve for a very long time. it's also a reminder, however; of what he could have been. a lot to think about. all of his choices which had led him up to that defining moment with moody.

he has no regrets. ]

wildcard

[ come up with a scenario of your own! it can be random af. but also fair warning, this is just going to be all shitposting. :') ]

wandering;

[purelyblack]

[Narcissa certainly isn't one of the many who seem to be experiencing some misplaced sort of nostalgia; but then, Narcissa had woken up in her four-poster bed just as she has every other morning of her sixth year, so today has simply been yet another tedious day at Hogwarts as had every other, however strange the day had been.

She's on her way back to the dorm when she spots a familiar surly figure lurking prowling along ahead of her, and she quickens her step step to catch up with him, feeling somewhat relieved to spot a familiar face amongst the wash of new arrivals. Of course, she hasn't any idea that the Evan in front of her isn't the Evan she'd met with only last night for their regularly scheduled lock-everyone-out-of-the-girl's-bathroom-to-complain-for-an-hour-about-stupid-boys-especially-that-Rabastan-Lestrange meeting.]

Evs! [She links her am with his when she reaches him, heaving a world-weary sigh that speaks to her firm belief this entire day had been planned out simply to inconvenience the two of them.]

Can you believe this nonsense? Honestly, I can hardly breathe for how tiresome it all is. 'Wizards from all ages and times'— [She scoffs, and you can hear the scorn dripping from every word.] —my shapely derrière.

rodolphus lestrange (au)

[purports]

grounds

[ he left the great hall as soon as the feasting began. no interest in the stares, whispering, and general wariness directed his way. they're confused. can they be blamed? he's rather young again after all. but one thing is certain, none of them suspect he is any more than his Seventh Year self.

it gives him the upper hand. not too long ago, he was being escorted back to azkaban for the second time in a row. now, he's back here. swapped one prison for another, but at least this one will prove to be much more entertaining.

it's dark out, just the way he prefers it. he is en route to the forbidden forest. most wouldn't dare venture near it, but he isn't most. ]

dungeons

[ he doesn't feel much nostalgia when he walks through these halls, but they do bring forth memories. he never forgets. every corridor, every classroom, every step — he can recall events that have transpired here during his youth. they don't hold any personal significance for him, but it is interesting to return and experience it all over again.

down here, in the dungeons, he has the most memories. he trials his fingers lightly across the cold, damp walls. it's not the most pleasant location in the school, yet it fits right in with him. perhaps, a bit too suited. he is seemingly making his way to the slytherin common room, but who really knows with him? ]

classes

[ rodolphus lestrange is currently asleep because he gives zero fucks about the courses he has to take again. he graduated once before; he is not doing a repeat. granted, nobody actually knows this, but he's still going to nap. feel free to ask him questions. he'll be able to answer them.

but then he's just going back to sleep afterward.

if it helps, he'll at least complete all of the assignments and projects given to him relatively early on in class. ]

wildcard

[ you know the drill. this is also all going to be shitposting. :') ]

Dungeons

[putorius]

This situation was flat out not sitting well with Draco. He was going out of his mind, trying to pin down what was different, and if this in any way changed his mission. He knew he needed to send an owl home. It wasn't his fault, he wouldn't have failed if Dumbledore was a ghost before he even got here, would he? He'd been agonizing over it, but he knew there was no escaping it in the end.

Decisively, he bolted out of his chair in the common room and headed for the door. But he nearly collided with a slender figure just outside the door. "Hey! Watch where you're--"

As he spoke, he looked up at the young man's face, and felt the bottom of his stomach drop out. He'd only seen him at a distance before now. He'd tried to write the uncanny likeness off as a coincidence, as he was clearly far too young to be his uncle. But well within arm's reach, there was no denying it. No way to write it off. He knew that exact face, just many years older. He struggled to find his voice again, as the color drained from his face.

His mind raced. Was this some sort of transfiguration? A reverse aging potion? Was he here to keep an eye on Draco? Wasn't Snape enough?!

Ezio Auditore | Professor

[dominus]

►►great hall

[ Slytherin house has a new addition to the table. That whole "hello, you've apparated into a foreign school and can't leave" is concerning enough for any wizard. When you're also a government spook masquerading as a bog-standard Muggle, in the midst of investigating dark dealings in the Vatican, well, "racheting anxiety" is only the start of it.

Oh, Hell. Ezio feels for the shard of his father's wand, deep in the pocket of his cassock, and glances at those around him at this end of the table, the others that aren't in student robes. At least he's not the only one that seems baffled and out of place? ]

►►grounds

[ It had to happen sooner rather than later. A fight has broken out in the quadrangle, helped along by the shouts and jeers of bystanders. What are teachers for, if not putting a stop to escalating situations? Ezio crosses the wide swathe of green turf, hurrying for the crowd. ]

Porca madonna... All right, break it up!

►►wildcard

[ Your choice, I'm easy. Is your character taking Muggle Studies? Causing mischief? Inclined to ask Ezio for help with said mischief? Go for it! ]

grounds.

[darkart]

[ When the proverbial dust clears from the scuffle, students are in varying degrees cowed and resentful, but something in the air prompts them to quickly scuttle away and accept their reprimands (whatever those might be). ]

You're settling in quick enough, [ says a low voice behind Ezio. Ah, maybe that's what prompted the quick getaway. No one wants to get busted fighting (or uh, busted at anything) by Professor Snape. ]

Draco | 6th Year student

[putorius]

I. Great Hall

One moment, everything seemed as it should be. Draco sat at the Slytherin table as always, but he wasn't joining in the usual chaos of the arrival feast. He sat with his head in his hand, simply trying to work out just how he was going to do what needed to be done, while trying to not look at the man he was meant to kill. He'd seen Dumbledore at the staff table as always, and seated himself right where the headmaster was blocked from view. He could hear the Gryffindors, all the way across the hall, a murmur of worry and panic spreading across their table. Draco knew exactly why they were worried, but he couldn't even find it in himself to gloat.

But then something shifted. The first thing he'd become aware of was a sudden kick of dread in his stomach, moments after the din of the room seemed to shift in a way he couldn't quite place. Slowly, he lifted his head, and some how everything seemed different. The quality of light. The people around him. Was it just him, or were there a lot of people too old to be students at the tables? Casting around for something more solid, he saw Dumbledore preparing for his speech.

No, not Dumbledore. His ghost.

It was like ice had flooded through Draco's veins.

II. The Dungeons

Though he wasn't supposed to let anyone know what his job was, Draco needed answers. The only person in the entire school who he could even mention it to was Professor Snape. But he couldn't let on any details about the what or why, just that their Dark Lord had given him a task. He paced the hall outside the teacher's office, scrubbing his hands through his hair. If he gave even a sign that anything was wrong, or let slip a hint of what he was doing, it was all over. But how could Dumbledore be a ghost? None of this made sense.

More than once, he raised his fist to the door, but changed his mind and resumed pacing. Fingers dug at his scalp as he tried to decide. Keep it to himself, or make demands? What was more fitting? What could he possibly do?

Finally, before he could change his mind, he threw himself at the door that he assumed belonged to his Head of House, hammering his fist on it.

III. Slytherin Common Room

Just as in the great hall, he sat alone. Quiet. Distressed. He should have been celebrating. Acting like everything was fine. He'd gotten one over on the Golden Boy Harry Potter. He was the youngest Death Eater he'd ever heard of. He'd been trusted with a job more important than his father had ever been given. He had the whole year to figure it out and make it happen. And yet, he had no interest in celebrating. He just sat by himself, chin in his hand, waiting for the hours to tick by. The last thing he wanted was to go to classes tomorrow. It seemed pointless, frivolous. There were far more important things to deal with. But he needed to wait to speak with Crabbe and Goyle. Where were they? He hadn't seen them at the feast. He couldn't go find the cabinet without them to be his lookouts. All the while, the fingers of his left hand curled around the end of his sleeve, as if afraid it might ride up as he sat there.

iii.

[meraclus]

Narcissa had stayed out of the way in the Great Hall, slipped out of the way as quickly as she could to reassess the situation. She saw faces that were much younger than she remembered and when she had tried to leave the castle grounds, she hadn't been able to do so.

They were all trapped here, it seemed. A dreadful situation in the least given how they had went against the Dark Lord at the end of the second wizarding war. She meant to kept that little tid bit as her own private information, however. As long as she could.

Draco, though, was obviously younger, a little bit at least. Quite like her sister and the other Death Eaters. Except in his case it was just a couple of years, not decades.

She took a seat next to him, not touching him or even looking at him as she leaned in a bit closer to him. "You don't look especially thrilled today, darling."

Adrian Lynch | 7th year student

[lunaphobia]

1. great hall;

[Adrian hadn't been doing anything so dramatic as fighting a war or dying when he'd been brought here. In fact, his mum had been catching him up on what he'd missed in his muggle schooling over summer break. No rest for the wicked, or something. Sure, he's a Ravenclaw, studying's kind of their thing, and he likes not being completely useless in the muggle world, but it'd be nice to actually get a break for once, you know?

And now there's this weird thing going on with a bunch of people he only knows from history lessons, monuments, and portraits, and what happened to Headmaster McGonagall?

He's sat at Ravenclaw table, looking over the Hall. Some of the faces make his head hurt a bit, like he should be more familiar with them than he is. It's the same sort of feeling he'd had every time he'd walked by a secret passageway in the school and just knew that it was there and how to access it. No one had told him, and he couldn't explain how he knew, but he did. Some of the people here are familiar, but he knows for a fact he's never seen them before. He might be staring a little, trying to puzzle it out.]


2. after hours;

[Okay so he's definitely not supposed to be out in the halls at this time of night, but obviously there's something going on here and he'd like to find out what. For now, he's just looking to see if anything's different, and okay maybe a brief stop in the kitchens for a late-night snack. And to see if the house elves are still about. Which they are. For all intents and purposes, everything in the castle is as it's supposed to be.

He's surprisingly good at sneaking around, but he doesn't have anything so convenient as an invisibility cloak or, say, a map that reveals the location of everyone in the castle, so if he hears anyone coming, all he can do is dodge behind the nearest object, hope they didn't see him, and quiet his breathing.]


3. grounds;

[Adrian's got a small selection of what must be muggle devices around him that he's fiddling with, though he may be the only one from a late-enough time period (with strong enough connections to the muggle world) to actually know what any of them are.

Getting his iPod to work at Hogwarts had been a challenge, but one he'd conquered years ago. Cell phones, however, those were trickier. Maybe the signal didn't play well with heavy magical fields. Maybe there were just no towers out here. He's got everything from an old brick of a Nokia phone to a modern smartphone.

If anyone feels the need to express concerns about the legality of it, he'll just say that they're his items, therefore they're not muggle items, because he is not a muggle. ]

Regulus Arcturus Black | Hogwarts Ghost

[grayblack]

I. The Great Hall

He hadn't really had the time to resign himself to dying before the water of the silent cave had closed over his head, but he was certain he'd expected that death wouldn't be this loud. Or this familiar. Regulus Arcturus Black (1961-1979) is grateful that he'd only wandered through one wall before a passing ghost had noticed his very obvious distress and cleared up a few essential points for him.

Even being dead, the ghosts at Hogwarts feel that same tug toward the Great Hall during meal times. Feel free to strike up a conversation with the (very) (translucently) pale, oddly wet-looking young man sitting at the Slytherin table.

II. Students Out Of Bed

He doesn't need to sleep as a ghost, which is a benefit in a way, but it does mean that if someone's sneaking through the corridors after hours, he's almost definitely going to be curious as to why.

There isn't a lot to do, as a ghost, when you can't visit the library and the exterior walls of the castle aren't as easy to drift through as the rest of them. What are you doing awake?

III. Slytherin Dungeons

It's definitely convenient not needing to use the password anymore, but people finding him here might find him staring at the lake as if he isn't entirely certain what he should think of it. Because he isn't. He could go out into the lake now, the ghosts do it all the time, they've told him about it. Distractions wouldn't come amiss.

IV. Quidditch

Obviously he can't play anymore. Even if he can glide very quickly, the Snitch will fly right through him. But that isn't going to stop him from attending the games, and possibly the practices, and shouting encouragement and discouragement at the Seekers for their techniques, in turn. He might not even play favorites (he will definitely play favorites).

V. Elsewhere

He's a ghost, doing ghost things, here for all your ghostly needs.

II.

[saevusacutus]

Oh, Regulus. It's a shame it would be another ten years before you even existed to Tom. And nearly twice that again before you were such a colossal disappointment to him. As it stands, he has no idea who you are. He doesn't even know you're a member of the Black family. You're just a ghost he'd never seen before.

He may not be a student, but it's not exactly common for even teachers to be roaming around at this hour. Especially when it's not their duty to patrol the corridors for wayward students. It's a few hours before dawn, and he's heading back to the dungeons with a rather ancient looking book with an oily black cover tucked under his arm. He gave the ghost nothing but a curt nod of greeting, as if he barely noticed this apparition crossing his path. But then he halted, looking up at the ghost.

"You weren't here when I was in school," he said, pointedly. "And there are not many ghosts who are quite so...current." He knew of one, specifically. If only she knew how she'd died, things might be a bit more difficult.

Minerva McGonagall

[mcfriggingonagall]

I. The Great Hall

If Minerva McGonagall feels as bewildered as the sea of faces at the House tables, and indeed at the head table, she hides it well. No, she isn't certain either what's happening, but she intends to track down the ghost of Albus Dumbledore just as soon as she can and find out. The last she remembers, the castle had just been exhaling in the full light of day, with little pockets of survivors coming together to breathe and remember the fallen, even make a start on the cleaning up. Now here they all are.

After the first speech, she'll be mingling with the other professors at the head table, and sweeping down to the Gryffindor table to try and assuage whatever fears she can, and figure out who all of these new students are. Some of them look far too familiar, and really shouldn't be sitting next to each other considering when she remembers them all from, but she isn't going to let that fluster her.

II. Classroom/Office

Transfiguration is still her area of expertise, but her focus in this situation is a little different. The syllabus reads ANIMAGI: THEORY AND PRACTICE, and there is drawn lovingly on the chalkboard a truly gruesome image of a half-man-half-cow. Not all of his innards are currently in. There is a cat on the desk. Almost everyone has seen this trick already, but it's such a good one.

After class, her office hours are as extensive as ever, for students with questions, concerns, likely problems unrelated to class. She'll do her best to answer them. Once a teacher, always a teacher. She will also, unless otherwise directed, return to her duties as Head of Gryffindor House.

III. Out and About

There are such a lot of new faces, and old faces, she's going to be kept busy trying to keep up with everyone. That said, feel free to flag her down as she passes.

II.

[lupine314]

Remus pushes in her classroom after the students file out, waiting by the door until the crowd thins, nodding and smiling mildly to the giggled Professor Lupins that are thrown at his way. Finally the classroom is empty and he closes the door behind him as he slips in, approaching the teacher's desk at the front with a frown upon his brow as he studies the drawing on the board.

"I'm impressed, Minerva," he greets her with a small curve upon his lips. "Your artistic abilities have been greatly undermined."

He actually has other business here than just commenting on her artistic impression, though.

albus severus thomas weasley van damme potter.

[whereagainst]

classes

[ Albus has lived his school years as a pretty big fuck up, but seventh year has been when he's finally coming into his own. He's never been good at much but he seems to have figured something out because he's flourishing. Of course, this will only be apparent to people that have gone to school with him all along: maybe he just looks like a good wizard to other people. It's almost annoying that they don't know how much work he's put in.

In most classes he's adept but he shines best in charms and potions (naturally). Magic coiling from his wand. Little eager tricks for preparing ingredients. (Crush the leaves of dittany before you chop them, get more use from them, a boost to efficacy.) It doesn't come to him easily but it does come to him because of how bloody hard he works. He forces himself to be good. ]

grounds

[ What a shit deal. This whole thing is garbage. He's not playing Quidditch here and when he's not studying there isn't anything to do but stew in it. So he spends time out on the grounds, lounging by the lake, wandering aimlessly, finding places to sequester himself so that he can smoke a bloody cigarette in peace without getting caught.

He never smells like the smoke at least: more often it's the faint ozone of magic, a damp pine from the forest. Anything but. ]

dungeons

[ You don't show weakness, not even around your housemates. He's used to an era in which Slytherins not only don't have support from outside forces but eat themselves from within. So for all appearances Harry Potter's younger son has slotted into place neatly, going to classes and extracurricular activities (loafing and studying) like he should. It's easy to pretend, easier when he can lay on a sofa in the common room and stare up at the lake, lit only by the luminescence of the green-blue glow from the water when it's late enough for everyone else to have gone to bed.

At other points he's in his bed in the dorms even though his roommates are different than usual, or seated at a table going over coursework. The point is, he's doing all he can. ]

misc

[ man, do whatever. lmk if you want cc or not. ]

Dungeons

[putorius]

Already at wits end, Draco needed to find someone to work with him. To work for him. The marked absence of everyone from his class wasn't sitting right with him. He could understand why none of them were there. If they were from other houses, sure. The parents were cowards, but not those of his classmates. Slytherin was protected better than any other house. At the very least Crabbe and Goyle should be there. He needed them.

In their absence he needed another accomplice or two. So he'd been watching the people coming and going in the common room. There were some who were vaguely familiar, in a way that unsettled him. But they were all too young to be the people he thought they were. Maybe they were cousins he's never met before. But they were there last year. Then there was the quiet boy. He'd been watching Albus ducking in and out, looking like any of his fellow Slytherins would bite him if he stayed around them for too long. In Draco's time, the house was as close as could be. United through common goals and ambitions, their claws aiming outward, so this behavior stood out to him. That and there was something irritatingly familiar about him. Something he couldn't put his finger on.

As the common room emptied one night, he moved over to the table where the kid appeared to be doing homework. Who cared about homework anymore? Standing rigidly on the other side of the table, he simply said pointedly. "You. What's your name?"

Merlin (yeah THAT Merlin)

[witwanton]

[For the sake of what I'm interested in writing (and the fact that Merlin's HP presence is literally all just background stuff anyway and has literally no bearing on the actual plot) I'm going with "wizard history got just as much stuff wrong about him as muggle myths did" so. Yeah.

He did actually go on to found the Order of Merlin after Arthur died, but he def didn't get sorted at Hogwarts as a kid cause it didn't....... exist.............. idk maybe he got an honorary sorting after the school was founded it's kinda canon that he casually lives forever]


1. great hall;

[It's a school. For magic. A magical school! He's so startled by this revelation that it actually manages to distract him from figuring out how to get back to Camelot for a while.

He'd asked someone where they were, what kingdom this was, but they'd given him a strange look, as well as the most ridiculous-sounding name for a place he'd ever heard. Hogwarts.

But he could feel the magic here, it was worked into the castle itself, and-- Why were people saying things like "Merlin's beard" and "Merlin's saggy left tit"? He'd tried to speak with the ghost of the man-- Headmaster Dumbledore, he'd introduced himself as-- that seemed to be running things, but he had just as much luck there as anyone else.]


2. library;

[Seeing the impossibly enormous collection of books on all different sorts of magic actually brought a few tears to his eyes. If this was really the future... they must have done it. They'd reunited all the kingdoms, magic must no longer be outlawed... Of course he'd told himself over and over again that it would happen, that all his work and all he'd sacrificed would be worth it, but to see the evidence for himself...

Now he just had to get back home and do whatever it took to make it happen.

He was a bit giddy at the prospect of all the knowledge at his fingertips, as well as being able to freely use his magic without fear of death. It might look like he's showing off, calling books over to himself without so much as a look or a gesture, but that's just how he is.

First topic, time magic.]


3. class;

[He's still incessantly working at finding a way back, but people here seem to think he's like a god or a mythical figure and they're very insistent on learning from him. He almost misses just being a servant to most people, even if he was the king's servant. He is a little curious if there will be anyone who can do the same sort of magic that he does, instinctual, effortless... he doesn't even have a wand, because he doesn't need one.

Hopefully the whole bloody school doesn't show up for his class, he's not even sure if he'll be that good a teacher. How do you teach something you've just done without even thinking your entire life? It's like trying to teach someone how to breathe.

He looks out at his class with a nervous sort of excitement, though.]

Alright! So... we'll start with, uh. Moving things, I guess! Can anyone already do any spells without using an incantation or their wand?

3

[lightmagic]

[ Merlin.

Well.

All right, as much as she's miffed by taking things over again when she'd long ago graduated, this is something entirely new. Not the course work - while not taught at Hogwarts it's part of her expertise - but Merlin.

She's sat in his class very still and watching him. She's not staring owlishly like many of her classmates - there's a tiny sense of awe residing in her but there's also the fact that he's a person too. They're all people.

No one is forthcoming when the question is asked and Lily actually rolls her eyes at the state of her fellow students before raising her hand. ]

I can, Professor. Being Muggleborn I didn't grow up surrounded by my parents doing magic with wands, so it's how I initially learned. [ It'd helped, having a friend showing her how to harness it, someone close by and right there to work with. ] Wandwork came later.

Bellatrix Black (ain't nobody got time to get married)

[peremare]

I. Great Hall
What is this nonsense? Bellatrix watches the newcomers--old and new, some older than they have any right to be--with sharp eyes and a pronounced frown. She's a seventh year. So close to graduating she can taste it. The eldest of all those who step within these halls, whether they be purebloods, mudbloods, or bloodtraitors. And yet... There are those who step foot within this room, those she knows for a fact she is senior to. What on earth is going on?

"This is ridiculous," she says to no one in particular, flipping dark hair over a shoulder before stabbing her pancake maliciously with her fork. "Who are these fools, and why are they here?"

Oh, but the joke's to come. When the headmaster--the old, idiotic geezer--steps up to talk, Bellatrix stops short from mutilating her pancake and stares. If she weren't a Black, she might've gaped at the fact that the man's a ghost.

There's no stopping the hysterical laughter which follows.


II. Slytherin Only
Oh that Dumbledore, always the go-to for a good laugh. That he's a ghost is irrelevant. She's no longer angry over intruders in the halls she's claimed as her own. No, anyone who might be a newly recruited Slytherin and who dare invades her haunts will be reminded rather sharply of their place. Especially blood traitors and mudbloods. The Slytherins who do so won't receive such harsh treatment, but they'll feel her displeasure nonetheless.

When Bella is in the Slytherin common room, she's more relaxed. The perpetual scowl or smirk she wears in the halls is not so pronounced. One might even catch her smiling or laughing (not maliciously, that's the difference) within this space. She'll be lounging around in one of the comfy chairs, cigarette lit, feet propped on anything nearby--whether it be a table, or another person if they're sitting close enough.

If you're someone in her group, she'll undoubtedly be talking about plans. What sort of plans? Something to do with the forbidden forest.


III. Wildcard
Come at her! Bella will be all over Hogwarts.

ii. say that again in two years

[purports]

Unlike Bella, Rodolphus feels impartial to the new additions to the castle. He might have shown mild amusement, perhaps even fascination, at some individuals in the beginning, but, by the time the feast ended, he has more or less lost most of his interest. Anyone who has caught his eyes have been shelved away to be dealt with later.

For now, he has returned to the Slytherin common room with his fellow housemates where he has found his usual place among the small group of mates he so very much cherishes. He is seated next to Bella as she speaks. They're always together. This situation changes nothing. His left hand idly kneads one of her ankles where she has deigned to rest them.

He barely speaks for the duration of the discussion. Always quiet, always impassive. Not yet.

Scorpius Malfoy | 7th year

[unyieldingebony]

[Not CC compliant. There's a history/personality in his journal if you're curious but all you really need to know is he was Sorted into Ravenclaw and became friends with Al in 3rd year]

1. classes;

[With the current troubles he's having with his best friend (the only friend who seems to have made it here), Scorpius returns to the behavior of his earlier school years, burying himself in classwork, keeping to himself, avoiding speaking with others if at all possible.

He's attentive, well-spoken when called on, and polite in a distant sort of way. He's a good student. And that's all he lets on.]


2. halls;

[There are only four places Scorpius goes on the regular: the Great Hall for meals, his classes, the library, and straight to his dormitory in Ravenclaw tower for bed. Catching him in between can be tricky, because he goes out of his way to take long routes around the castle, ways that avoid where the biggest crowds of students tend to go. If he does need to pass anyone, particularly groups of other students, he tries to hold his chin and gaze up and walk with a confidence he does not feel.

Otherwise, he keeps his eyes to the ground, usually with a few books clutched defensively to his chest.]


3. misc;

[He seems very good at making himself scarce but he can still be found in other places from time to time, and as much as he may often wish otherwise, it's very easy to spot him from afar. The hair's a dead giveaway.]

halls!!

[labyrinthus]

[ unfortunately for scorpius, he's not the only ravenclaw that takes roundabout routes to get where he's going. luckily for wynne, he manages to blend in much better than scorpius does, too-- no familiar features, no famous (or infamous) name. he does it so well, in fact, that most people don't even remember that he exists or that he's a ravenclaw. he's made a practice of it his entire life, from one shitty foster family to another. the first three years of hogwarts had maybe been the best years of his life, until he'd started receiving strange letters, and then remembering things.

and now, well, he's here. at least in this hogwarts, he doesn't think he can continue getting said letters. still, old habits are hard to break, and he's stepping out of a secret passage that most people have no idea exists (there are a few benefits to very old memories) when scorpius rounds the corner. it startles him so much that he yelps, dropping his books. papers scatter across the stone, and he turns as if to flee back into the passage before he realizes it's already closed behind him. ears and face burning, he glances back.. and realizes that he sort of knows who this is. ]

Oh, [ he breathes, and presses shaking hands to his outer thighs, turning back to crouch and try to gather up everything he'd dropped. ] .. You're, um.. Scorpius, right? Malfoy? [ he ducks his head, voice lowering to a flustered mumble. ] I've.. seen you around.

Remus Lupin | Professor Age (married edition)

[lunisolar]

1. great hall;

[Fighting in what was shaping up to be the final battle of a war one had many personal stakes in and very suddenly finding oneself in the same location (albeit a different part of it) with no battle going on at all is... disorienting, to say the least. Remus is a bit out of sorts, even as he seems to settle at the staff table.

He looks out into the crowd of people and there are many faces that are painfully familiar. Long-dead loved ones, as well as a few he'd rather not see. A few he knows are not dead, or are younger than they had been when they'd died. There's one face (one brightly colored head of hair) in particular he searches the crowd for, and he doesn't know if it'd be better to see her here or not. Depends on how this plays out, really.

She could very well be in disguise.

The thumb of his right hand rubs against his wedding ring absently.]


2. staff room;

[The ratio of faculty to students is far more skewed in the faculty's favor than it was his previous tenure, so predictably, the staff room should be rather more lively.

At this exact moment, however, it's not, because Remus has dozed off in one of the chairs by the fire.]


3. class;

[It feels good to teach again. There's no way of knowing how much call there'll be for knowing the Patronus Charm here, especially with so many members of the Order and Dumbledore's Army about, but there's bound to be someone who doesn't already know it but would like to. It's really quite a feat that he knows so many wizards and witches that can perform it, and Merlin if he isn't proud of Harry for teaching it to so many others so effectively.

He's set up a few targets to act as Dementors (of course they're not going to practice on the real thing, and the Boggart solution wouldn't really work for everyone), but he doesn't expect everyone to cast full, corporeal Patronuses on day one.

He smiles warmly as the students filter in.]

Let's begin, shall we? Who can tell me what a Patronus is?


4. wildcard;

[bring your own prompt]

wildcard!!

[chaungen]

[ the hallways of hogwarts are almost always busy, and today's no exception. students bustle between classes and leisure activities, socializing, heading to and from quidditch practice. --inside the infirmary, however, it's relatively quiet, a few students lingering for treatment, one teacher lying in a bed recovering from a migraine.. and at the far end, the voice of one of the few mediwizards here to take care of the entire school.

maybe remus came to check on a student, or get to know the people working here, or to check on the availability of the wolfsbane in this changed hogwarts. it's evident, at least, that no one's quite expecting him, because the young man in the lab-coat hasn't yet bothered to lift his head from where he's talking to what looks like a first year. he seems to be finishing up, though, because he reaches out to pat one little shoulder, and the boy smiles up at him, then hops up and rushes off.

teddy straightens, then, tucking his hands into the pockets of his coat. ] Don't run! [ he waits to make sure the boy is listening, then glances toward remus. --teddy looks to be in his twenties, isn't tall, but his features are probably familiar.. and of course his hair is a bright shock of turquoise curls. he blinks once, going very still for a moment, and his eyes fly wide with shock. ]

Remus Lupin?

teddy lupin ( infirmary mediwizard )

[chaungen]

[ the new mediwizard is still in his twenties and is a metamorphmagus. at any given time, it's pretty much impossible to recognize him save by his white coat and nametag, which reads lupin. his hair and eyes, his height and weight and shape and even his physical sex frequently change, but he always has the same warm smile and the same open friendliness.

his office in the infirmary is full of books and papers and a potions station that obviously sees a great deal of use. he might be here for the foreseeable future, but that doesn't mean he's stopped his work and research-- he just does it between fixing broken arms and clearing up unfortunate jinxes. he has an open-door policy when he's not actually in an appointment with someone or busy out on the infirmary floor, and he's very happy to talk about his work, which has to do with some of the nastiest curses and conditions known to the magical world. (werewolves are, perhaps unsurprisingly, his particular specialty.)


when he's not in the infirmary (which is rare), he might be found in the library, or out watching the quidditch teams practice.. or checking in on the people he knows. he's especially hawk-eyed over the potters, weasleys, and scorpius, considering they're family and he's the (technically) eldest of that generation.


otherwise, he can be found pretty much anywhere. if you see some random person you don't recognize with brightly-colored hair, it's at least 57% likely it's teddy lupin tbh. ]

[oncedead]

[ Harry's gotten used to the different versions of the people in his life. Various little Lupins and he even glimpsed himself from the distance one day. He didn't think of much of this young man at first, just smiled at his brightly coloured hair.

But when it happened to be blue instead of purple one day, he begun to think about it. Eventually he takes it upon himself to investigate. He'll slip into the infirmary with hands in his pockets and hollering from the door. ]

Anyone in here?

gellert grindelwald.

[negativechill]

great hall

[ Gellert sits at the staff table as is expected of him, even if some of the other staff may seem extremely wary of him, most are at least polite. He hardly seems the type to become a Dark Lord - or, well, hardly looks it at least, despite the milky look to one eye and the scarring around it. He's chatty and engaging and fond of intellectual conversations even if at times it might seem as he's gauging and categorizing people, it also seems relatively benign.

Relatively. ]

class

[ Professor Grindelwald is brilliant. He has a way about teaching that pulls even people that have trouble with magic out of their shells and leaves them casting at the very least adequate charms. He has an air about him of caring and it's unclear whether it's genuine or not - but it certainly seems so. Surely this isn't the man that caused a war and killed countless people?

Especially talented students are brought aside after class for chats: he inquires if they would like to move up to a more advanced course that's better suited for their needs. If said conversations make a student late for their next class he writes them a pass to excuse them signed in a gently looping hand.

When he teaches and casts magic, he uses a long wand with tell-tale bumps along the length of it. Most people won't know what it is, but those having done enough research on the Elder Wand will know it on sight. It's the same wand that Dumbledore uses until his death. ]

corridors/office

[ Between classes, before them, late in evenings, or at night, it's easy to find Gellert in the corridors, walking and exploring and taking everything in. He's making a mental map of the layout that's so different from Durmstrang. That's not immediately clear as his goal, though: it simply appears as though he's making rounds to see if any students are out of place. He's doing that as well of course, naturally, but with a good excuse he's inclined toward giving more leeway.

Hell, sometimes he's just invisible.

He also has generous office hours, very available for chats or questions. It's secluded and a bit low-lit but he keeps his windows open and there's only the faintest sense of something dark about the edges. Often he has experiments although it's unclear what their purposes are. ]

misc

[ Hit me up with whatever! I'm open to most situations! Also if you prefer prose I'll match you; I just did brackets for those that prefer them. ]

office!

[preferable]

[ if gellert has been particularly observant lately--and doubtless he always is--then perhaps he's noticed that something feels a bit different. it's hard to tell what it is, though; a once-familiar head of hair in a crowd, maybe, quickly gone. perhaps he's already guessed the cause. regardless, it resolves itself this evening with a gentle click of a door opening and shutting, and a slender young man leans back against the heavy wood with his wrists crossed neatly between his body and the old planks.

he shifts, lifting cornflower blue eyes-- older than his years, wickedly intelligent, calculating and unreadable. it's been a very, very long time since albus dumbledore looked like this. --pushing himself up out of his lean, he crosses slowly toward gellert's desk, long fingers ghosting over the back of a chair as he goes. ]

I didn't believe it at first, [ he admits mildly, a stray curl falling over his brow. he lifts a hand to push it away, stare flicking over gellert's face--eyes to mouth to chin--then traveling down his throat and chest, sweeping to his hands.. then back up once more. ] As soon as I saw you, though, I knew it was you. [ finally, the first hint of real emotion: his lips press thin, brows drawing together almost imperceptibly. the things he's heard, the things he's read..

he takes a breath, releasing it slowly. ] Gellert.. We should talk, don't you think?