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.

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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.

[oncedead]

Harry oomphed when Draco ran that shoulder into him, but he didn't back down, never really prone to do that, but instead threw his weight behind his own shoulder and rammed it right back into Malfoy.

"What's up with you?" he asked. They hadn't done this for years. Ever since the... sixth year, really. And when Harry paused to look at Malfoy for a lengthy moment he had to wonder if he seemed a little younger, didn't he?

"Wait, Malfoy... " He reached out to grab an elbow or the sleeve of his robes, whatever might be there to grab.

[putorius]

The moment Harry's fingers touched Draco's arm--his left arm--Draco whipped around, yanking his arm away as if Harry's touch were red hot. He glared at the other boy, looking every bit has hollowed out and harassed as he had in that year that Harry was so intent on watching his every move.

He glared at Harry, momentarily unsettled over something he had trouble placing. There was something fundamentally different about the other. A shift that wasn't immediately obvious and he didn't have the patience to puzzle out.

"What do you want, Potter?" he snapped, carefully smoothing out his sleeve. "Was one broken nose not enough for you this year?"

[oncedead]

Broken nose. Harry doesn't have any problem puzzling this out. Because he knows the way Draco looks like and how he acts. He also remembers that broken nose well enough.

"Sixth year, is it?" he asks, a hint of a smile gathering on his lips. "I thought you looked a little young." Harry isn't that much older, three years. But he might as well be decades older given what happened during that one particular year.

"You're trying to kill Dumbledore this year. It's not going to work."

[putorius]

Absolute horror slowly sketched itself across Draco's pale face, that some how drained even more of color. His eyes widened, and he looked like he might be sick. No one knew. No one COULD know. He hadn't told a soul out of those who'd been around for his assignment. He, his parents, his aunt, and Voldemort alone knew of his task.

Far too late, he managed to find some composure. "As always you're talking nonsense. Did you actually want something or did you just want an excuse to harass me?" But he wasn't looking at Harry. He was plucking imaginary lint from his left sleeve, to hide the fact that he was checking to make sure it was all smooth and his arm was covered.

[oncedead]

"I know also that you have the dark mark," Harry says as he watches Draco pick his sleeve. "And I know you will have doubts about it. I know he threatened to kill your parents."

If there is something Harry has always regretted, it's that time when he cursed Draco in the bathroom. He has regretted the sixth year in so many ways. So many times. Maybe he can fix a little bit of it with this Draco.

"It's not too late to stop, Draco."

II grounds

[whereagainst]

Albus spends a lot of time outside. Whether he's running around to get rid of extra nervous energy or lounging, he's out there a lot.

He also heads out often to smoke, which is patently against the rules, and he finds quiet spots he won't be bothered. It's a bad habit but it calms his nerves, sort of. Today he's out under those selfsame stone arches, taking a break and staring out into the distance.

As soon as he's done he vanishes the remnants, moving to go back toward the castle - and stopping dead. He'd wondered if he'd see Harry, and, well, there's no mistaking his profile even from a distance. So he walks along the length of the line of arches, pausing a respectful distance away. "Harry Potter?"

This feels so familiar. If Harry looks at him, it'll be almost like looking in a mirror. Almost, not quite. Subtle differences: different height, longer hair, no glasses, a smattering of freckles.

And the Slytherin robes.

[oncedead]

Harry breathes in deeply. Just breathes. The air is happily crisp enough to calm his nerves a little bit. But he turns when he hears his name spoken, looking at a young man in Slytherin robes. He looks pretty familiar, doesn't he?

Harry's not in robes at all, but a pair of jeans and a flannel shirt, casual and simple. He arches his brows.

"Yes? I am. Who are you?"

Seems like he should know this person. Like something on the tip of his tongue.

[whereagainst]

"Sorry for bothering you," is a murmur. He looks nervous, a little bit. "I'm, ah..."

(He thinks about being a disappointment for so long. He doesn't say it. Maybe he shouldn't have done this.)

"Albus," he finally settles on, "Albus Potter." There's a beat, a pause, and he looks at him with something desperate in his eyes. "This place is so strange, but... You're my dad." Just like that. "Later, obviously, but I just wanted to see someone familiar to me."

[oncedead]

"It's okay," Harry says warmly, his chest so full after meeting all the old friends and his mum. Even if this would be Draco Malfoy, he might as well hug the bastard.

But the smile on his lips dies when there's a name, and then further along, family connection and he's left just looking at Albus with wide eyes, so very surprised and kind of startled.

He... a dad?

"I'm... your dad?" he asks, then turns fully to Albus, a hand rubbing over his chin, eyes blinking, but a smile curving its way over his lips. "I have kids?" That's.... Amazing.

"Why are you apologising?" It's all jumbled and a little strange but oh the idea of being a dad is just making him happy, filling him with joy. A family of his own.

"Ginny's your mum, right?" There's a hint of a grin on his lips as he steps to Albus and tentatively reaches up to brush back a bit of that long hair. Yes. This boy looks exactly like him. Like his dad. Like a Potter.

II Moaning Myrtle's bathroom

[grayblack]

It's in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom that he'll come upon an amusing sight, at least amusing to anyone who isn't Regulus Black, currently trapped somehow up against one of the sinks with Myrtle's clawlike fingers dug into his robes to keep him from escaping. It might not be fair to consider Myrtle's syrupy sweet nothings to be a fate worse than death, but she's awfully strong for a ghost, and it's with no small amount of relief that Regulus stares past her when the door opens.

He doesn't expect her to whirl around and screech at the intruder before rising into the air and wailing all the way into a toilet, but it's over, and he isn't going to object. "James," he says as he stands straight again, brushing off his robes even if they're ghost robes and nothing he does to them will make much difference, "thank you."

Then he turns and looks more directly at his rescuer, and his smile falters. "Oh. You're not James. My apologies, I don't believe we've met."

[oncedead]

This is a new ghost. One that Harry hasn't seen before. He rolls his eyes at Myrtle, who has always been more than a handful to be honest. Either she's screaming or she's cozying up with him in a bathtub, Harry gave up with trying to understand her a long time ago.

He steps in, however, walking towards the the sinks at the other side of the room and opens a tap.

"I'm not James, I'm his son, Harry. Harry Potter."

He sprinkles some water onto his face and then turns to the ghost while wiping himself dry on his sleeve. "I don't think I've seen you here before. What's your name?"

There is something eerily familiar in this ghost, though, something that tickles Harry' imagination, his memory. "I've seen you somewhere, though..."

[grayblack]

"James had a son?" It's such an odd thing to think about, the idea of James Potter as a father, that he takes a moment to collect himself again. Clearly James had a son, a son named Harry who looks enough like him at a glance that for a moment, Regulus had been certain it was James himself coming to his rescue.

"Oh, Regulus. Regulus Arcturus Black." He almost offers a hand, then remembers that wouldn't be very productive at all, and ends up folding them behind his back. "I don't know where you would have seen me, I died before you were born, I think."

[oncedead]

"Oh." Harry turns to look at him properly now, curiously so. "In your house. You're Sirius' little brother. He was my godfather."

Harry wondered where to begin, but also he wondered if Regulus would want to talk about any of it.

Harry kind of wanted to hear his side of it, though.

"You took the locket. You took it and hid it away. We destroyed it, you know. My friend Ron did. And we destroyed all the other horcruxes. Even the one inside me."

quidditch pitch!! quit knocking all my gingers up omg

[hextrained]

A broom is like a set of wings for Ginny. It doesn't quite matter what's happening--that she'd been pulled from home and brought back to school, a brighter version of a school she remembers as a girl--so long as she has access to a broom. At least, she tells herself that's the case for this particular instance.

Thing is, she'd seen a bunch of students dart after Dumbledore's ghost that first day. Seeing his ghost summoned a great deal of sadness, despite not knowing the man personally. It reminded her of things from harsher times, reminded her of people she'd lost--both friends and family alike. She wasn't one of the group who chased a ghost because it was clear the old headmaster didn't want to be followed. So she'd quietly gotten up and excused herself from the great hall before the masses of people got up to go as well. It's better that way; crowds make her a little irritable these days.

An engagement ring shines brightly on her finger, glistening in the sunlight as she makes her way down a well trodden path, broom slung over a shoulder. The air's got a bit of a nip to it, but that doesn't dampen her smile. A smile which only seems to grow, blooming into something bright and warm when she catches sight of a familiar figure already on the pitch. Of course she'd find him here, of course.

With a laugh, she hops on her broom and shouts his name, speeding closer and springing right off that broom to throw herself at Harry for a hug. "I didn't think you'd be here!"

PFFTTTTTT don't even start

[oncedead]

Harry barely has time to spread his arms out and catch her when she springs at him. He hadn't seen her at the main hall, kind of half relieved, half sad that she wasn't there. But it would have meant she's home safe, hopefully, wich is a lot more preferable to being caught in the school like this.

But when she's in the circle of his arms, he has to admit that for a few seconds, he just selfishly thinks he's happy.

Then it passes, because he remembers that they're not exactly in speaking terms right now. At least not where he stands. They have a tendency to break up and get back together but it's been a little bit longer this time and he feels like it might be it. She's finally done with him.

"Where else would I be?" he asks her, smiling with all his face as he grabs both of their brooms in his free hand, his other arm wrapped around her middle. "I wished you wouldn't be here. That you'd be home and safe," he says a little bit quieter.

how many other gingers will you knock up?!

[hextrained]

"Home and safe," she lobs back at him. It's true. Whatever's going on right now with this fiasco of being back at school, she'd hoped against hope he wouldn't be here as well--despite knowing she'd be much lonelier for it. He deserves a break from all these things. He's done enough for the wizarding world. "I didn't see you yesterday, but it was so chaotic that I suppose it's not too surprising."

She's smiling like a loon and she knows it as she pulls back from the hug. Not far enough to step out of his hold, but enough to look at him. It doesn't quite dawn on Ginny that they may be from different times, like some of the others. He looks so much like her Harry, and the relief of seeing him here right now washes over her so completely, that she thinks nothing of cupping his cheeks with both her hands and leaning in to give him a quick kiss.

"I wished the same. But it can't be too awful, seeing as we're here together?"

HOW MANY DO YOU HAVE???

[oncedead]

Harry freezes when she kisses him. His eyes going a little wide but he does't pull away.

When would he pull away when she has kissed him? He never will.

But while he will respons to the kiss, with the kind of a shuddering breath that is reserved for surprises and fantastic shows of self-control, he seems surprised, and doesn't seek for more contact with her.

"Um, we're doing this now?" he asks, looking a little confused and fragile at the same time. Please, just tell him they can go back to loving each other. He'd be so ready for that...

THE LIST GROWS BY THE MONTH, I FEEL LIKE

[hextrained]

Ginny freezes. Eyes widening, lips parting.

We're doing this now?

Well... just what is that supposed to mean, exactly? She pulls back, hands dropping from his cheeks to his shoulders as she watches him with furrowed brows. He'd responded to the kiss. Sort of. Not in the way she'd imagined he would've under normal circumstances, but he'd still responded. And yes, that's not exactly the sort of thing she wants to hear after kissing Harry, but--

"Did you have something else you'd rather be doing?" There's a note of something in her voice. Not snappish as she might've been--because she's working on that temper, damn it, because she wants this to work--but still something defensive.

Without thinking of it, she reaches up with her left hand to jerkily tug a chunk of red hair behind her ear. The ring on her finger feels much colder in the choppy wind, now; or maybe that's just her.

grounds

[witwanton]

Merlin's still finding his way around; he's used to living in a castle, sure, but not a magical one with moving stairs and rooms that change places and entire corridors that disappear and reappear elsewhere. In Camelot it all stays put, and he knows where everything is already. It's really fascinating, of course, but it's also sort of annoying because once he figures out one way to get somewhere important, they change things up on him.

At least the outside stays the same. Merlin was wandering on the edge of the forest nearby (he'd heard someone say it was forbidden but no one seemed to be stopping him) to see what sorts of wild-growing plants were nearby. The physicians were well-stocked already, but it was habit now to see what was around. You never know.

He passes by Harry on the way back and something about the man seems achingly familiar. Not in the sense that he knows him personally, but the set of his shoulders looks like he's resigned himself to carrying the world on them. It's the same way Arthur's look when things are grim, the way his own look when he's alone and catches sight of himself in a mirror.

By now, Merlin knows very well what a man with a weighty destiny he's not sure he's capable of handling looks like.

He leans against one of the stone pillars near him, following his gaze out to the mountains.

"It's a beautiful view."

[oncedead]

"Isn't it, though?" Harry replies with a surprised smile. He doesn't think he's seen this man around. Which isn't surprising considering there are dead wizards all over this place. But it still makes him want to pause and curiously study the man.

He has a kind face and a smile that makes him look a little bit mischievous. Harry hums with amusement as he leans again on the banister and turns his face to the mountains.

"You didn't fight in the war, did you?"

[witwanton]

The first war that springs to mind is the one on the Old Religion, years before Merlin was born, but obviously he can't be asking about that. There is a war back home that he's fought in in his own secretive way, that he will continue to fight in once he goes back, but he's pretty sure that's not the one he meant either.

There will always be wars. He's not naive enough to not know that. Hopefully this one isn't a continuation of the wars from back home.

"There was a battle here, at the school, wasn't there?" It's not quite an answer, but it certainly implies he wasn't part of the war Harry's asking about. "I've seen the marks of it in the stones."

[oncedead]

"Yes, there was," Harry replies. He doubts that anyone could have lived through either their time or the time after without knowing about Voldemort and his agenda. It's safe to assume this person is from an earlier era.

Partly Harry is relieved. He's tired of being that Harry Potter, the boy who lived and died and defeated Voldemort.

"Harry Potter," he says and straightens up to offer his hand to the other young man. "You're probably from before my time."

[witwanton]

Merlin smiles, shaking the offered hand. He's a bit reluctant to give his name, he's quickly learned that people get a bit awe-struck when they learn who he is. Or they accuse him of lying. It's nice to just speak casually with someone. "I'd expect so! I, uh-- I'm Merlin." He says it a bit quickly, with a sheepish sort of grin. Please don't freak out.