three_broomsticks | Hogwarts: A Jamjar Meme

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*jamjar meme

Hogwarts: A Jamjar Meme

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

2. Tag other characters

3. Have fun!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Sleep still clings to the edges of his consciousness, his eyes itchy and his body pleasantly heavy. It's warm in here, and the sheets and covers and pillows all smell just like he remembered them, everything is the same, right down to Remus reading a book in the bed next door.

Of course, he's far older than he would have been then, not a skinny, mousy boy, but a man, tall and slim and scruffy. But then, Sirius knows this man, too, just as he'd known the boy, though he can't for the life of him guess at what's got him behaving so oddly.

"What, Moons, pretending not to hear me? Cold shoulder, eh?"

Crying about his own ridiculous phantoms is not what Remus Lupin needs to be doing. But it's pretty much what seems to be in the stars for him tonight.

Except Sirius still is there when he glances at him from the corner of his eye and Remus lets out a stuttering breath, hand still covering his mouth.

Ridiculous.

"Is this a dream?" he asks with a thick voice, careful not to move too much because even if it is a dream, he'd not like it to end.

Ah.

Sirius doesn't know what Remus has seen, doesn't know what he might know or not - how could he? Sirius himself has only been here for a handful of hours, last remembers falling through that veil.. but Remus is looking at him as if he's seen a ghost, a fierce pain in his eyes.

Slowly, Sirius sits up, hair wild and pillow lines on his cheeks, and he scrubs both hands over his face, then squints toward Remus again.

"Don't know," he says, honestly, and turns to swing one leg over the side of the bed. "Might be. But I don't think so."

The bed makes a sound under Sirius' weight and Remus listens to it, thinking that ghosts don't weight anything. Then he's pushing aside the book and slipping his feet onto the ground, sitting on the side of the bed and leaning forward to touch an arm.

Solid. Warm. Real.

Remus pretty much surges upright, pulling Sirius with him by a hold on his shirtfront. If he hits his head to the canopy, Remus doesn't even care, but he's going to be pulled into a tight embrace.

Sirius doesn't know what he expects, but it's certainly not to be grabbed and tugged so hard and suddenly. He's hardly able to react to the gentle touch to his arm before Remus is suddenly yanking at him so suddenly that the top of his head cracks against the canopy frame - oh it's been years since that's happened.

He hisses in pain, but Remus' arms are so desperately tight that he can't help but hug back, a rough chuckle in his throat.

Remus doesn't look much older than when Sirius last set eyes on him. He looks a tad greyer, maybe, and his hair and beard are overgrown, his clothing more rumpled than usual, but it can't have been very long, can it..? Sirius has no idea, and doesn't want to ask just yet. Instead he presses his face to Remus' shoulder and hugs him tightly, speaking gently. "Hey, it's all right, Moony," he says. "I'm right here."

Sorry, Sirius, Remus is a little bit desperate, holding onto him so tightly that it might seem like he thinks Sirius is going to just slip away if he loosens his hold any.

They lost twelve whole years to misunderstandings. Getting back only a few and then he lost Sirius again. This is like a mirage, a dream that might end whenever he isn't looking.

"You shouldn't be," Remus says tightly, his throat dry and awkward around the lump he tries to swallow down. "You are dead." And just saying that makes him flinch, dig his fingers a little tighter into the folds of Sirius' shirt.

Sirius doesn't seem to mind. He knows how it feels to be desperate like that, he'd felt the same after too many years locked away, he'd felt the same when he'd seen James and Lily again. Remus clings hard, and Sirius allows it, doesn't pull away, though he can't help the cold guilt that clutches hard at his chest, grasping his heart with icy fingers. He shouldn't have been so reckless, he shouldn't have left Remus behind, alone, the last of them, to carry that weight, that burden, that loneliness.

"Seems that way," he says quietly, both hands sliding gently up and down Remus' back over his sweater, slow and soothing and rhythmic. There's nothing he can say to make it better, he knows, nothing that could make it easier; he remembers the jarring, soul-deep pain when he'd looked down to the lifeless bodies of his very best friends, the fierce agony that nothing could soothe.

"But I'm here, now."

"Mnn," Remus says nothing to all that. Nothing at all. He doesn't know what to say. Just that he needs to keep holding on, his nose buried in black hair, breathing Sirius in with each calming inhale.

Maybe this is a mirage. Maybe it's a dream. Maybe everything will be back to normal when he wakes up.

But he doesn't care. Not right now.

Finally he pulls back a little, just enough to look at Sirius with exhausted eyes, nose stuffed and his smile small and trembling.

"Hi."

Sirius' smile is a wry, painful thing, but he delivers it all the same, and lifts one hand to ruffle at Remus' rumpled hair, a little bit greyer than he last recalled. It aches to see Remus in pain like this - Sirius has always been relatively in tune to him, call it the canine bond it you will, but Remus is a stoic creature by nature, doesn't easily give much away, so to see him fraying around the edges is painful to see.

But there's nothing to be done for it. It seems they can't be allowed any joy in their lives that lasts longer than a few fleeting years. Gently, Sirius drags his thumb over the rise of Remus' cheek, to wipe away any stray wetness there.

"Hi," he says, then chuckles softly. "Please tell me you didn't die to get here, mate."

Remus bites his lips when Sirius drags a thumb across his cheek, wiping away some tears. He doesn't think about it much further when he leans in bump their foreheads together.

"No," he murmurs, a hint of a sad smile. "I'm still alive."

But the thought that he doesn't want to leave and leave Sirius here bubbles up so fiercely that he has to swallow, shift under its weight.

"I'd rather... Ah. It's so good to see you."

It's good to see you too, he wants to say, but to Sirius, it's hardly been a handful of hours, if even that much, since he's seen Remus. Not that it isn't always good to see him, but that's not really the point, and it seems to cheapen what he's feeling, so Sirius only smiles warmly, if a little painfully, and knocks their foreheads together playfully, trying to keep a lighter, warmer mood even if the talk is anything but.

".. how long's it been?"

Sorry, mate, Remus has been mourning so he can't quite just set it aside. He tries though, for Sirius' sake. He searches for a smile and it almost reaches his eyes, too.

"Some months," he says and you could probably measure the time by the length of his beard and hair because he just hasn't really cared to groom himself.

This place seems to make less and less sense with every minute that passes, but he's got no choice but to simply roll with it. He's alive (probably, in a manner of speaking), he's safe, and nearly all the news he's heard has been good news, so he's got no complaints yet. So far as life after death goes, this isn't so bad.

Why Remus is here, though - that's really the question. Sirius can worry about that later; right now, his best mate looks a sad wreck, and Sirius just can't abide that.

"Are you growing that beard out in memory of me?" he asks with a grin, tugging playfully at the thick fluff at Remus' jaw. "It's quite impressive. I'm touched."

"Shut up," Remus says with mild amusement but despite the harsh words, there's fondness there and he doesn't seem to mind the tugging at all. "Maybe I was just cold."

He draws back then, rubbing his hands over his face and what emerges from behind them is an actual smile, soft and flushed, a spatter of freckles clear on his high cheekbones, a map of stars broken with haphazard lines of scars.

He studies Sirius for a moment, his greying hair and stormy eyes.

"Seems like a gift, this thing."

It's good to see that smile, however sad and weary it might be, still it's able to fill his heart with a bit of burgeoning warmth. Much as he's enjoying this place, it's easy to accidentally run headlong into heartache, he's found, but that's something they're simply going to need to grow accustomed to.

"Cold, sure. Well you'll certainly be warm enough now, with that wool coat on your face," he teases, and all that fondness that Remus is offering is reflected right back in the warmth of Sirius' eyes.

".. but yeah, seems so. You won't be hearing any complaints, from me."

As far as being dead and all goes, this is pretty grand.

"Very warm," Remus says with a hint of a smirk. They both know that he had just let it go, out of Feelings. There's no need to say it.

He reaches over to lay his fingers on Sirius' forehead and feels it gingerly. There's a small bump ready to grow larger.

"I'm sorry. I was... in a hurry, apparently."

Merlin he's missed that fortunate face smiling at him. He had thought he'd never speak with Sirius again.

Well, Godspeed, Moony, because Sirius plans on keeping his fortunate face right here, for as long as he can, thank you very much.

"Yeah, cracked me one good, you did," he says through a smirk, lifting his eyebrows and looking up toward Remus' wrist, wincing a little at the pressure of his fingers. "I'm maimed for life, I hope you're pleased with yourself. Who could ever love me now?"

"Oh, I don't know," Remus says, his brows arching up with amusement. "You're probably ruined for life."

He pulls his hand away and then turns to pick up the book from his old bed, walking with it to the window and dropping it to the desk.

"You'll just have to get used to loveless life."

"I don't know how I'll ever manage."

Remus pulls away, and Sirius smiles after him, then drops heavily onto the edge of his bed again, leaning his elbows onto his thighs. The bump is clearly all but forgotten.

"So, going to angle for your old job back?"

"I might as well teach while we're here if anyone wants the classes I can provide," Remus says as he returns to his bed, sitting on the edge, opposing Sirius. "Might have to look for the Shrieking Shack for full moons again."

He reaches over to nudge Sirius' thigh. "Are you going to teach?"

"'Course they do," Sirius says with a grin, cocking a brow and giving Remus a knowing look. "The way I heard it told, you were Hogwarts' most popular Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher by far."

Not that the competition was incredibly stiff, what with Umbridge, Quirrel, Lockhart and Snape in the running against him, but somehow Sirius still thinks that even if the others had been decent, Remus would still be favored. Sirius never saw him teach, but he knows Remus; he's got exactly the right temperament for it, and just enough of a sense of humor and adventure to likely make every class entertaining, as well as informative.

"Me? Oh, I don't know. I've thought about it, yeah."

"And the competition for that spot was ever so challenging," Remus replies drily. But he thinks Sirius is right, there probably is something to teach. Especially to the younger ones. It seems that the courses that are cropping up are pretty advanced most of them. Someone should provide something to do for the kids.

"What would you teach?" he urges Sirius to think about it further.

Yeah yeah, he saw that coming; Remus has always had a knack for skirting around compliments. Sirius smiles anyway, because he knows he's right, that Remus surely made an excellent professor, and will again.

"Mm, I don't know.." he says, leaning back on his hands and squinting up at the familiar ceiling. "Transfig, maybe? I've always been good at that." But the way he says it is noncommittal; much as he enjoys transfiguration, he's not so sure he'd be good at teaching it.

It's not that Remus doesn't think he can't do it. Just that it's pretty clear he's not wanted by most parents to teach their kids. And he understands why. So he has given up thinking about it as something he can do.

"Hmm." Remus eyes him curiously. He doesn't think Sirius would be good at teaching transfiguration. Minerva excels in it because of who she is. Sirius is too much of a fast and loose type to teach something that requires a lot of training and concentration.

"Maybe something more imaginative?" he suggests mildly. "I doubt it has to be one of the usual subjects."

Well those parents are wrong, of course, because Sirius knows his werewolf, knows that he's about as frightening as a puppy, and he's far too protective a person to ever admit otherwise. In his eyes, you'll always be the best professor ever, Moons.

"Mmm.."

Sirius lapses into a thoughtful silence, chewing absently at his lower lip. This Hogwarts isn't quite like the one he's known, of course, and it's entirely possible that they could offer all manner or colorful elective courses. It wouldn't be a stretch, really; He'd always thought Hogwarts had been a little light on the more vocational studies.

"Wonder if there's any demand for magical engineering."

Hogwarts: A Jamjar Meme

c: smooches

SMOOTCH!

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