Hogwarts: Year Seven - A New Age [IC/OPEN]

[Skylus]

Derek Forester

Derek looked down at the list of names. He didn’t recognize most of them. “I see no objections.” He finally said, moving his gaze from the list to Andrew. “A dueling club sounds great, I think.”

He then paused. “Lay low? Avery seems to have it out for me already, I’m not sure if I can lay low, but I’ll try.”

[Arlye Austros]

Ricado

Andrew’s words seemed to herald something, in Ricardo’s mind. He wondered if Avery, or the High Lordship didn’t have anything else in store for them. But he nodded at his suggestion. “Yes. A Dueling Club sounds like a good idea. Although I can imagine some barriers being put for it as well.”
He then thought once more of that doubt he had. That he feared. Ricardo didn’t reply Derek. He didn’t think it was as bad as suggested, but for Derek it would be particularly hard, and critical, to stay out of trouble. As for himself…

Going back to the Common he was again, thinking. His mother had been able to read his mind. Everyone in the Province could, she claimed. Some more than others. And it provided them enough power to control the students at both ships, and their parents. What if these tactics had come from somewhere else?

At the Hufflepuff Common he wanted to go to bed, but noticed that once he laid down, Ricardo would probably be unable to close the eyes. He found himself alone with Adam.
"There is one thing that bothers me..." He said, gaining his attention. "He seems to accurately locate each one of us. To think ahead. To let the leash go as long as it's safe. His control is just... too much." His voice was soft, but enhancing the cryptic nature of what he said. Then Ricardo, who's gaze had lowered as he spoke, looked straight into Adam's eyes.
"Could it be that the Headmaster is able to read minds?"

[Britanania]

A month Later

Things had been quiet at the school as the days turned to weeks. Classes seemed to come and go after the first Quidditch exhibition, and Caitie found herself increasingly devoted to her studies--if only to dull herself from the otherwise painful realisation that everywhere she went, every step she took, the eyes of the Headmaster were upon her, and that the new addition to the staff and faculty of Hogwarts seemingly had an interest in all of them as well.

And so it was that on a quiet evening after classes Caitie found herself in the usual confines of the Slytherin Common Room, doing a little more studying, briefly taking a moment to glance around the room with a sigh.

Even now are his eyes here? she wondered, thinking how not that long ago she barely escaped this dungeon with her life, defending it against hordes of the undead.

[United Democratic Christian States]

guess who's back? back again...

David-

Well the first weekend was shit. Not only did his first match as Seeker end with a loss to Derek, who while a respectable seeker spent the summer in a cage and was riding a broom he had never touched before. Even if it was stupid fast. However as he beat himself up over it he figured he'd just practice harder. After all they had only lost an exhibition game.

Unfortunately that wasn't the worst thing to happen that day. The meeting went even worse. Avery is as Avery does and is a dick to anything that isn't 100% under his control. The Army was on his side and saved countless lives, what purpose did he have to do that other than fucking over himself and the rest of the school if something else bad happened this year? Usually while harsh Avery was at least interested in *positive* effects for the school. However this didn't seem to fall in that category.

Luckily it seemed the army managed to convince Rachel to just lay low. With only the possibility of a dueling club to ease David's troubled mind.

Everything happened so fast he almost missed the fact Anton was there. Which the last time he crossed paths with the man outside of class he and Isolde had gotten into a fight to save Derek from dying. Another of Williams goons named Emma had called David a nobody, and David promptly stunned her and called her a worthless brat. Since then he always held Anton in a negative light, another Ravencloack who had bought into Williams delusional ideals. However that changed with Anton changing sides to save the day. That took guts and a better moral compass than David gave him credit for.

He felt compelled to give him a classic Hufflepuff welcoming conversation and walked up to him.

"Oi, Anton mate." he started before offering his hand to shake as everyone began leaving. "Could not have been easy standing up to William in the 11th hour. Regardless of everything you have done, in the end you came through. For that you've earned my respect, and I'm glad you showed up today. Even if we now have to lay low for a bit. If you need anything at all, just ask and I will see what I can do."

[Segral]

Ed Wilson
Ravenclaw Common Room

Much like Caitie sequestered away in the underground common room from hell, Ed was in his own personal hell, a small blue table and chair at a windowed corner of the Ravenclaw Common Room. Sure, there were wondrous views, but between the constant gravitational pull of some brutally complicated runes messily scrawled across his class notes and the slight issue of sheer and utter nighttime darkness clouding his window, there wasn't exactly much to look at. It had been such an easy choice to make. He wished he could go four years back with a Time-Turner and scream at his thirteen-year old self to not be an idiot and pick a class that actually required work. Care of Magical Creatures would've been so much better. With how much time he had spent shoveling Hippogriff shit, he was practically an expert in magical biology. Transcribing a paragraph in some runic rubbish that hadn't been in use since Egyptians trawled the sands? Fucking useless. Not a few words, not a sentence, not even a few sentences, a paragraph. Apparently, it was just a starter exercise; they would have multiple pages worth of reading and writing problems on the N.E.W.T. Nastily Exhausting just about summed it up. What a joke.

For the third time in fifteen minutes, Ed pushed back his chair and painfully clambered to his feet, stretching the locks and cramps out of his muscles in distinguished manner. First his legs, then his arms, and then his aching neck, rolling it back and forth to let some of the sting in the back subside. This was useless. He had poked so many holes in the parchment that he could barely read what he had started with in the first place. Even if he did struggle through the next few hours and wrap everything up, he would be exhausted by the time class started the next morning, too exhausted to deal with the ass-ripping he would get for his dogshit translation. It was best if he called it off for the night. He could get the full translation from someone else tomorrow, and finish it in the library during his free period before Runes in the afternoon. It was a plan, a good plan, but he was still frustrated.

Despite what most people thought, Ed was a good student. He was in Ravenclaw for a reason. He had only failed one of his OWLs, and that wasn't even his fault! How was one supposed to fill out a star chart when clouds covered the goddamn stars?! The point was, he rarely, if ever struggled with his schoolwork. Never had he stayed up obsessing over tests, or tossed and turned with symbols floating in front of his eyelids, or lost two fingers in the greenhouse. That actually happened to a girl in his year. She got her fingers back, of course, but the point still stood. But this year? This year, it was different. He could feel his lids getting heavy earlier and earlier, he could feel himself giving up halfway through his classes more and more, he felt...overwhelmed. What was he supposed to do with all of this information? How could he finish all of it? And what was next after that? Work? A career he knew nothing about? The mere thought of it put his neck and chest in a vice grip, his breath needing manual force to flow in and out of his body.

Enough common room for one day. Thinking about his future and other rubbish was tiring. Some fresh air would do him good. He could feel some of his autonomy returning to him as he got further and further away from the desk splashed over with torn parchment, broken quills, half-empty ink pots and what looked like a quickly aging glob of Drooble's, the fog in his mind clearing as he turned his back on the mediocre fireplace and slightly threadbare chairs and towards the exit tunnel. Finally clambering down the tunnel and letting the eagle-knockered wooden door slam shut behind him was an even greater relief. When he began to walk, aimlessly hopping from staircase to shortcut to corridor as he wandered around Hogwarts, his head felt clearer than it had in days. Hopefully, it could stay that way for a little bit.

[Miekzhemy]

Rachel
Andrew

---

The lot of them had begun to file out of their meeting room in silence. Naught but the clack of shoes on wood characterized the end of what very well may be the last meeting of McGonagall's Army.

And when the room emptied, Adam found himself the only one standing before both Rachel and Andrew at their big table. He regarded the former--sat with her head laid down upon crossed arms--with a look of solemn concern. Andrew shared this expression, before turning away from the witch to address him.

"Go on, mate," Andrew told him. "I'll help clean up..."

Part of him seemed wanting to protest. But try as he might to open his mouth and say something, in the end, Adam found himself conceding. Instead, he turned on his heel, making his way out of the room, leaving a long quiet to fall upon the two that remained. Eventually, Andrew broke the silence, having a distinct feel of deja vu as he pushed himself out of his own chair.

"You okay?"

"No." Rachel's muffled voice choked. He expected more. Expected her to...perhaps say something else. But he soon found himself staring down upon the downtrodden witch for another long time.

He had barely gone about shifting some of the chairs back to the pile of unused furnishings when she spoke again, her voice a soft echo through the empty, abandoned classroom.

"How much more do I have to lose...?"

Andrew looked over, barely hearing it at first. "Mm?"

"First the battles..." she mumbled. "Everything we had thrown at us. Everything we overcame... Everything I've lost, and Avery sees me as just another problem! Another...soon-to-be Ravencloak, or another Reynolds...? He uses my badge to turn me into a...s-some sort of pawn? And if taking me away from my friends wasn't enough, now he wants to take away the one thing that brought us together?!"

Rachel strained herself to raise her head up, staring meekly down at her hands. They didn't even feel like her own anymore.

"Was it not enough for Darkenstone to have left me like... Like this?"

"I told you, it'll feel that way at first..." he tried to explain, at least trying to be optimistic. "But once you get a little better--"

"Get better? Get better?!" The legs of her chair screeched as Rachel shot up to her feet, sheer anger choking out the immense pain that presided over almost every movement she made. Her good hand snatched up her weathered wand of aspen. "It's not GOING to get better, Andy!"

Without hesitation, the witch drew her wand across the air in front of her face, prompting a shimmering wave of red-tinged light to pass over her for but a moment. Finite.

"Look at it!"

The dispelling charm lifted the veil that hid the full extent of what William had done to her. The festering burns from his cursed fire that had boiled the skin raw. They spanned the entire left side of her face in erratic patterns that reached both down her neck, and even along her "good" side, albeit to a lesser extent.

Peeling scars and bubbly blisters, somehow numbed but excruciating at the same time...

"Look at me!"

Her wand hand reached over to the other, clasping around the loose end of the bandages around her palm, disappearing underneath her sleeve as it ran all the way up her arm and around her chest. In a single violent motion--and ignoring the searing pain that followed--she outright pried a long string of the dressing from her hand, revealing more of the same grotesque sores, hidden beneath little more than mere strips of antiseptic-laced cloth.

And though he had seen them plenty of times before, Andrew could only regard them with gloom of his own...

"Look at what he did to me!"

"Rachel..."

The witch's quivering hands balled up into fists.

"He... He fucking ruined me--!"

"Rachel!"

Andrew's hands seized her by the wrists, firmly enough to stop her practically frenzied trembling. Part of him was caught off guard by just how weak she had become. "No he didn't..." he hissed, his previous somberness rising to a more impassioned tone. "These things, they... They take time, alright...?" he slowly nodded his head. "Strout said it herself. Get your strength back, let things heal--"

"And what about my classes?! My progress!" she snapped at him, her marred face awash with anguish as she looked to the floor. The witch's shaky arms fidgeted in his grip. "Learning to wield it all again... I can't play quidditch... I still can't even walk right without the pain!"

In a single, painstakingly slow motion, Rachel craned her head back up. She felt utterly deflated. Powerless, even. The aspiring witch that had brought so many of them together. Excelled in fields where even experienced wizards had never succeeded. To have been brought to this... Little more than a brooding husk of shot nerves and pain. Even after her outburst, it only seemed to yet again strike a nerve within. The same nerves that just couldn't - wouldn't - be soothed, despite the months of recovery.

And amidst the contorted brow and clenched jaw that marked her grief, her emerald eyes began to blink tears.

"Please don't cry..." Andrew swallowed hard, almost finding himself doing the same. The haggard witch let a faint sniffle escape her nose.

He pulled her into a tight embrace.

"We'll find a way," he told her, a soft voice in her ear. "We always do. We're all in this together, remember...?"

And though she said nothing, her arms weaseled out of her robes, clutching tightly around the back of his cloak.

Rachel Ackerley
Andrew Bishop
Adam Tarkin

---

Hogwarts Castle
First Floor - Kitchens

A month later
September, 2023

Amidst the hustle and bustle of the other Hufflepuffs chatting and enjoying the ever-peaceful atmosphere and persistent scents of delicious food that characterized the Kitchens, the trio of students - two Hufflepuffs and a Gryffindor - sat at a single round table in their usual spot.

"You're gonna throw chunks if you keep that up," said Adam from behind his open textbook, a smug grin plastered on his face. Though he opted to at least warn her, he couldn't seem to bring himself to stop Rachel from scarfing down the rest of her plate of dinner. Like some sort of wild animal, he figured. Oh, wait...

"...'m h'ngry," the witch mumbled though a mouthful of roast pheasant.

Adam laughed. "I can tell!" His attention was caught by a somewhat irritated grumble on his right. The boy turned his head, looking to Andrew to find his nose buried in a convoluted textbook of his own. Idle hands sifted through his dirty blonde hair, and his squinting eyes darted between the book and...whatever was scribbled on the paper next to it.

"Okay..." Andrew mused aloud. "Now I know why Ed was complaining about it. This is actually a load of shite."

"Divination?"

"Even worse. Arithmancy."

"Kuh--" Adam threw his hands up, leaning as far away as he could without tumbling out of his seat. He'd already done the minimum amount of work he needed for it this week. Now? He wasn't going to touch that with a ten mile pole.

Rachel, however, perked up somewhat. She looked across the table, finally managing to swallow down her oversized bite of pheasant she had been ravenously devouring.

"Need help?" she asked, leaning forward to get a look at his book. "Sedwig's N.E.W.T. Transfiguration uses a bit of maths for--"

But the moment her eyes met the page, the witch blinked.

"...what the bloody hell is that?"

[Triassica]

Raphael Raymond

No sooner after the year began was Raph swept up into his long and tiring studies for not just last year's finals but for the current year's classes as well. They managed to keep him busy enough to be locked in the Slytherin Dungeon with the exception of classes and feasts. Not much time to worry about Caitie and how she violated his mind, erasing what could possibly have been the most important parts of his school life, even as it all lingered over the muggleborn's mind.

Luckily, however, Raphael managed to find a window of time to himself and his own devices to do as he pleased. Making a relieved sigh with a toss of his textbook into his bag, he stretched before getting off a comfy chair and leaving the Slytherin Dungeon to find Rachel. After a month into this final school year, it was long past the time he at least got started on working to face Caitie for what she had done to him.

It didn't take long for Raph to find Rachel, thankfully, being pointed to her location by a helpful house elf on errands. The Kitchens also seemed like a good place to go, finding himself starving and in need of a snack.

"What the bloody hell is what?" Raphael would ask as he walked into the room, instantly spoting Rachel among the Hufflepuffs.

[Britanania]

Karamazov

Over the Public Announcement system set up over the school, the chilly and young voice of the newly appointed Carrer Counselor blasted over the airwaves of the medieval castle.

"Would Mrr David Hendrrricks please kome to my office rright away? Spasibo."

The Russian accented voice was followed by yet another chilling sound as a team of heavily trained aurors arrived at the Common Room to personally escort David, should he refuse the Counselor's request.

Back in her office, Karamazov herself was happily arranging her dossier, having opened the attache case with files on the Hufflepuff student.

[Arlye Austros]

(Colab between Skylus and I)


Ricardo wasn’t all that comfortable during the exams. He had been able to feel prepared with Transfiguration, and his results in Alchemy had been extraordinary. But he was merely “Exceeding Expectations” at Potions, a major blooper on his part. And now, he couldn’t really focus for DADA two days later.
And he had enough reviewing the Three Twists of Tenebrosity that Giles DeMorrigan had used to subdue the population of Oxford in 899 and their counters based on Merlin’s Fire Swap. They just didn’t make sense, had nothing in common with each other and were basically the same. Then again, the Twists are supposedly mind-bending and said to curse their students. Maybe he was pushing too far into them.
He sighed frustrated and stood up from his seat at the Library, returning the book An Account on Nothing, 700 AD. – 0BC. to its original place before storming out, heading swiftly into the grounds, finally stopping at the Viaduct and overlooking Hogsmeade from across the Great Lake. Still an hour until Potions.
Derek had been throwing himself into his classes with a ferocity that no one had seen before. He didn’t speak much, instead mostly focusing his attention on making sure Avery and the authorities had no reason to give him any sort of punishment.

It seemed his entire personality, entire self had changed after what had happened during the summer. He was quiet, subdued, non confrontational, stayed close to those he considered friends, was clearly scared of Avery and his goons, and no longer dared to speak out about things.

Whenever he could, he wandered the grounds of the massive ancient castle, and often found himself at Hagrid’s hut, passing the hours away by the fire with good food and company.

After the dissolving of the Army, the others were on guard, especially since the government could dish out a punishment like they had given Derek on short notice. They were mostly safe, but with the current atmosphere, anything was possible.

Derek sat on the centuries-worn stone steps leading down to the lake, looking out at the massive forest on the other side of the water.

“Saw you from up there…” Ricardo called as he walked down the steps. He had his backpack hanging from one hand and brushing the stones at every drop towards the lake. “Trying to get away?”

He said that not only for the cheer of a light remark, but also for his own fears. He had dwelled more and more into that idea about Avery he had weeks prior.

Derek looked up briefly to acknowledge Ricardo’s presence before he returned to looking out over the lake. “You could say that. As much as I can while I’m here, anyway.”

“I just want these exams to be over. Be able to lay my head a bit.” He said while sitting against a rock flanking the road to the lake. “Have a normal year for once. Since the Army is disbanded, I suppose we can, perhaps, hope for that. Just once.”

“Normal? Since when has anything here been normal? Not just for us, but for the last… century? Two centuries? It’s like this entire place is cursed.” Derek reached down and picked up a loose rock that had fallen from the stair railing, then threw it as hard as he could. It managed to hit the water and it skipped on the surface three times before sinking into the cold depths. “Call me superstitious, but I think some sort of curse was placed on all of us on our first day here so that all of our lives were utterly ruined. And worse things can still happen.”

The other one seemed to want to say something to otherwise counter that assertion, but didn’t quite do anything.
“That catch was rather good, though.” he complimented. “In the game, I mean.” Ricardo glanced at the forest across the lake. “That being said, I see where you come from. Something’s… off. Don’t know what it is, but it’s been bugging me since the start of the year. Maybe it’s just the peace. But they haven’t found William yet. Doesn’t feel normal to me. So I think you have a point there.”

“What are you doing out here, Ricardo?” Derek finally focused his attention on who was sitting next to him.

“Other than catching air in between scroll dives, let you know that I will be heading north for Christmas. In case you still want to tag along. However it’s not going to be so direct, and I will have to take a small detour.” He told Deek. “After London I will have to do some backtracking north, but it should take us less than a day to get there. If you have anything to do in London before we vanish we can make space for it.”

“I don’t think I’ll have anything in London to do.” Derek said thoughtfully. “Things change though, something could come up.” He moved his gaze back to the water. “I don’t suppose you’ll mind showing me that ship of yours ahead of time?”

He laughed. “Wish I could. We’ve been trying to break into the Lake, but something else than rocks is in between. I am somehow linked to the ship. We talk, you know? But since I came to Hogwarts her voice is like a broken radio. Maybe less.” Ricardo nodded, between frustrated and amused, as if this posed a challenge of sorts.

“However I can describe her. Not physically, though. She likes to change size and form. But so far I’ve only seen her as a two decked wooden ship of the eighteenth century. Sometimes she has two masts and sometimes four, but likes to use grey and blue sails..” He recounted, remembering those little details. “Inside… it’s much like Hogwarts, but without any stone, obviously. She seems able to grow entire decks without affecting her outside appearance and depending on who needs it. And I don’t think there’s a limit to that space. So it has to be an extremely powerful Extension Charm under her control.”

Ricardo then closed his eyes and chuckled, seemingly remembering something. “Of course! Most important thing should be obvious by now, but it is just too important.” He added looking at Derek. “She is a person, so make sure you don’t insult her in any way. I believe she is in the Know-it-all phase, so just play along with it and you should be on her right side.”

“That’s pretty interesting. Is she…. Like an Animagus except she can turn into a wooden ship?” Derek asked.

“No. Not quite. I said she is a person, but she is also not human. I believe she is something between an Obscurus and a Ghost.”

The Gryfinndor looked very interested. “Does she ever make herself visible to you as a ghost or human-like figure?”

“Human-like. Other than the fact she sometimes sinks into the floor, she looks very material all the time.” Ricardo shrugged. ”And I do believe she is partially able to read minds…” His semblance changed, as if he had remembered something.

“Read minds… That’s a tad bit unsettling.” Derek commented. “Although if it’s partial like you said then it’s not as bad.”

Ricardo smiled faintly, but it faded, as if it wouldn’t stand the thoughts he was going through.
“It is unsettling. Then. I don’t think we are in a better place on that regard. I suspect somebody’s been looking into our heads here in Hogwarts.”

“Well they’ve been spying on us, at least. I wouldn’t put it past them to… I dunno, put fake birds everywhere with recording spells.” Derek half turned to Ricardo. “What do you think will happen at that supposed ‘job interview’?”

Ricardo shrugged. “One can never be sure.”

The Next Day.
Ricardo Salgado.

He did make a breakthrough on Dark Arts. Ricardo was feeling much confident about Retroversal Enchantments and was starting to get back the feeling he could navigate the Six Principles of Nadamura’s Walking without tripping.
He also began plotting in his mind the way back to Lucerna, and tried to remember the diagram of the waterways in central England which he would have to use.
After a quick breakfast he was heading to the library to return his books. Then he heard the calling done by that mysterious woman.

"Would Mrr David Hendrrricks please kome to my office rright away? Spasibo."

Everybody in the hallway stopped on their tracks to listen, and odd looks were exchanged. Ricardo hesitated, then turned around, heading back to the Common Room.


Isolde Grenwald.
Huffelpuff Common Room.

Waking up meant for Isolde keeping her same mantra. Don’t get in trouble. Stay low. She was quick to overcome her frustration at losing her first game of the year, and now was entirely focused on studying.

She was also worried about her mother. She written, and she feared Amelia had got herself in troubles. Her plan to make a school newspaper was put on hold until the exams were dealt with and she could get an idea of how much freedoms she would have.
Not much, apparently.
The girl sat in the Common, looking the day’s Prophet and reading an interview on the head of the Lindisfarnian Voting Block at the Wizengamot and their worries about the future of wizarding communities in the hinterland.

Then the announcement was made. She held her breath as her mind put things together. This Karamazov was doing these vocational interviews. Nothing to worry about so far. But two of the last three words made her feel uneasy. And her feelings were confirmed seconds later as a squad of Aurors entered the Common, searching for David.
“What is this?” She asked, standing up and forgetting her mantra.

[Segral]

Ed Wilson
The Great Hall

Just moments after Raphael's question exited his mouth, a figure passing by with his hat pulled down over his face stopped to stare at the absolute mess of a paper over Rachel's shoulder. The sound that echoed through the air immediately afterward was best compared to that of a mauled animal. It was Ed himself, clearly and evidently displeased by the revelation that Arithmancy was a subject that existed and had a presence in his life. "Oh for Christ's sakes, I'm seeing numbers everywhere!" Ed cried out, sliding into a seat next to the Hufflepuff-Gryffindor alliance. "I was in the loo and seeing L'Hopital's number charts floating around in the water. Moaning Myrtle floated in and she looked like a big number '7' coming through the door. I don't think I should've told her that though, her eyes were a little moist when I left. Should've told her she was leng." he said with a shrug, running an anxious hand through his hair.

Truth be told, he still didn't actually understand what Arithmancy was. It was magic, but it used numbers for divination, event prediction, and mapping out complex magical scenarios using numbers, but he still couldn't tell you why you needed numbers at all for it, or even what the numbers did. It was like Muggle computer algorithms, except magical, and utterly obnoxious when you did them by hand with quill and parchment. He could solve any problem he wanted, he just couldn't explain how he figured it out. By this point, he was just taking the class for the NEWT so he could work at Gringotts after-school...if that was still what he wanted. He had no clue, and even as he took longer and longer walks every week in an attempt to figure out, he was no closer to finding that clue. Hogwarts had been his life for seven whole years, and the idea of just...leaving? It didn't feel right, not after everything he had been through, not after he had seen life and death and change in a three-way Quidditch match. Coincidentally, a three-way Quidditch match was also the center of Andrew and Ed's latest set of study problems for that blasted course.

As if on cue with his thoughts, a sudden voice echoed all around the Hall through Avery's stupid announcement system, one that sounded eerily familiar. "That East European career lady, hmm?" he asked out loud to the group of assembled students, trying to hide the chill that ran down his neck at the sound of her stern voice. "Guess David'll get to tell us what she's like. What do you think she does with students during meetings? I mean, why would Avery need a whole separate Career Counselor instead of getting some of the teachers to take it up, like they did with the Seventh Years before us? There has to be something different about her."

[Skylus]

23 September 2023
Headmaster’s office

Derek couldn't help but feel a twinge of fear as he was silently escorted by Aurors from the Gryffindor dorm up to Avery’s office. He wondered what was going to happen, how long he’d be there for, what would be discussed.

All too soon, Derek was standing before the door, the Aurors announcing their presence to those in the room behind the closed door.

But instead of the Headmaster was Karamazov sitting.

“Mrr Forresterr,” she said in her heavily accented English. “Please, sit.”

Derek silently crossed the room and sat down in the chair before the desk. He attempted to somewhat relax. “Hello.” Gryfinndor hoped his voice was steady enough to not betray his nervousness.

“Do you why you arre herre?” she asked tersely.

“Something about determining my future after I leave Hogwarts, I believe.” Derek responded, relieved that at least her accent was mostly understandable.

Karamazov opened up her attaché case, retrieving a series of documents.

“Why werre you imprrisoned last summer?”

’So she’s starting with this…’ Derek slowly met the woman’s gaze. “The gameskeeper attacked a Selkie, I attacked him and the Selkie got away. But I knocked him out, and ran across the property to the other side of the river. So they sent boar hounds after me. I killed a few in self defense, then the Aurors that were called used an illusion that set the cottage I was staying at on fire. I ran back to the cottage, believing the illusion to be real, and was captured.”

“Da, and you think yourr punishment was…unfairr?”

“Being stuck in a near pitch black cell with no contact for the summer? Being fed only bread and water every eight hours? The cell being self cleaning? Yes, I do think it was unfair.”

Karamazov leaned forward.

“You are lucky to be sitting herre forr what you did.”

“The Aurors that threw me onto the street when I was released told me something like that.” ’What else is she going to ask me?’

The Counselor removed her hands from the desk.

“Yourr grrades, they arre…average. What carrrerr path did you have in mind?”

“I’ve always liked history… I think if I had the choice, I’d choose to be an archivist.”

Karamazov nodded, checking her notes once more. She gestured to an auror standing guard to leave the office as she pointed to a cabinet.

“What do you think of Headmaster Averry?”

“Um… I don’t… necessarily like him as a headmaster due to how strict he is, but as a person, he’s okay.” ’She has to know I was part of the army, right?’

She nodded.

“He does his job…well?” she offered.

“…Yeah. I guess so.” ’She’s asking this for a reason.’

The guard was now out of the room. They were alone. The silver-haired Russian gestured towards the cabinet again, snapping her fingers and undoing its lock.

Derek eyed the cabinet. ’What is she doing…’

The cabinet opened, and Derek’s eyes went wide as a flickering shadow wolf appeared. It was massive, he couldn’t keep his gaze off of the thing as it stalked towards him.

He was silent as the wolf continued to move towards him, its fangs bared and eyes glinting in the low light of the room.

’…You have to be kidding me - why…’ Derek drew a deep breath and felt somewhat ridiculous doing so, but a few seconds later he managed to laugh despite the situation he was in.

Yet that didn’t work. Derek remembered too late that you were supposed to use the spell and point a wand at the boggart. The wolf crouched down and leapt across the room from where it was near the cabinet. It landed on Derek’s chest. Even though it felt like the thing was clawing his chest open, that wasn’t actually happening.

Although that was the furthest thing from Derek’s mind at the moment. He began to panic and tried to shove the boggart wolf off of him.

And then he was lying on his bed in the Gryffindor dorms, without any recollection of what had happened.

That was utterly terrifying, anything could have happened to him in the headmaster’s office and he wouldn’t have remembered any of it.

Actually… Had any of it happened? Derek didn’t know. The whole thing felt like a dream, or nightmare, or… something.

Maybe what had happened had just been a bad dream. Yeah, that was it.

…Right?

[Arlye Austros]

Isolde Grenwald

No news came form David or from Derek, who had been called on the loudspeakers. Isolde sat on the Common room, wondering what this was all about. A vocational interview, perhaps. But with escorting Aurors?

Isolde began taking mental notes of the atmosphere and the time going by. She was now determined to chronicle the events in Hogwarts during the year, perhaps publish them in secret.
Some other name was called that she could really remember, from Gryffindor. Then the loudspeaker called once more for her.

Not wanting the Aurors to come again into the Common Room, she quickly stood up, enduring the gaze of some other students remaining, and walked outside to the kitchens. There she saw the Aurors walking up to her, and she pushed down the knot forming in her gut.

As they escorted her, Isolde tried to figure out what these Aurors were ready for. She could tell they weren’t green behind their ears. These were at least prepared for another rendition of last year’s attack. She also tried to check if they had those breastplates under their robes, but the movement made it difficult to tell.
Soon enough they delivered Isolde at the door and knocked on it.

[Britanania]

Collab with Tii

The young woman was brought to the new counselor’s office where she was instructed to sit, much like Derek before her. Karamazov was reading over a file, presumably Isolde’s school records, nearly ignoring her for several minutes as she poured over the dossier until finally, agonisingly, she placed it down.

“Miss Grenwald, your mother works for the former Ministry. Do you plan on following her down that path?”

Isolde had been paying attention to the office, trying to find out any detail that could prove useful for some reason beyond her present comprehension. She turned to the woman but didn’t reply by instinct. Instead, she decided to provide evidence that this was a thought-out answer.

“Given the circumstances, anything goes. I haven’t planned on it up to this point.”

“Have you made any plans?”

She broke a smile that stood somewhere between cynicism and frank petty. “Plans? No. I have been too busy thinking of the year.” The girl said before making a pause, then shrugged. “Maybe I will see if I can get a job abroad to earn some experience after graduation.”

“So eager to leave Albion?”
Isolde chuckled softly..
“Let’s be honest. It’s very boring here. Having a real sense of the world feels like a must, and perhaps boredom will then turn into… I don’t know. Comfort?”

“Your Headmaster spent some time abroad. He was my instructor at Durmstrang.”

“Indeed he was.” Isolde poorly feigned interest as she continued to observe the room, wondering what kind of woman this person was. “Instructor of what?”

“The Dark Arts, naturally.”

Isolde reestablished eye contact with the woman. It shouldn’t have come to her as a surprise. But to her, the outspoken praising of the Dark Arts didn’t come so <<naturally>>.

“Well, I don’t fancy myself a teacher. So far I’ve only liked journalism.”

“Your boyfriend’s father works for the Prophet.”

“Must be a tough, hard-earned position.” Her reply didn’t have an ironic tone, but she recognized the ease with which those words could be offensive. “I have only been near small local papers. Which might be the reason I find Britain boring.”

“And what values do you find important in journalism?”

“The usual''. Truth. Dedication. A speck of courage. Although creativity, I think, is also important.”

A small smile appeared on Karamazov’s face.

“Do you think that you live up to those values?”

Isolde shrugged. “I like to think I do. But who’s to judge oneself honestly?”

“So you think you’re honest with your friends and boyfriend, generally? No secrets are kept?”

Although her face didn’t change, Isolde was aware that if her eyes could, they would have poured fire. “As of now. No. And personally, I don’t like keeping secrets either. You never know when they will be used against you…” She was going to rant but felt the urge to stop herself. “Leave secrets to the death, I’d say.”

“Well, there are no secrets here,” she replied.

“Shall we go down to the interview, then?”

Karamazov looked at her dossier for a moment.

“How would you evaluate the level of education at Hogwarts?”

Isolde looked at the ceiling for a couple of seconds. “It works, generally speaking. I still believe the staff is doing what they can with what they have. But the balance between security and imminent death has got everybody on edge, so there is so much they can do for the learning environment.”

“And of the Headmaster specifically?”

“Compared to the late Headmistress? He’s got a lot to learn for that environment’s sake.”

“Do you have specific critiques?”

“I don’t think he properly handled the aftermath of McGonagall’s murder if I am honest. And, it sounds crazy, but this is Hogwarts, after all. It feels as though the School turned against us after he was created in the position.” After a pause, Isolde made an effort to neutralize her voice and demeanor.

“Personally, I would have liked more fluidity in classes. Their schedules didn’t conflict, but it does feel like moving through a pack of thestrals.”

Karamazov made a few notes before looking back at Isolde.

“All right, you’re dismissed.”

Isolde was a bit surprised. She was going to ask if she was sure and there was nothing else, but in the back of her head, she knew it was best to shut up and head out. She stood up and walked to the door.

[Triassica]

Raphael Raymond

Raphael was in the Library, keeping himself occupied by playing with a nearly complete Rubik's Cube. His eyes glanced towards the Library exit as the speaker called his name. Clearly he was up next for Karamazov's 'job interviews'. He took a deep breath and took out his remembrall, which was pinkish instead of scarlet red, signaling that he was caught up with his memories, for the most part.

Raphael stood up putting his cube in his bag and his remembrall back into his pocket before leaving the Library. One of the staff found him and instructed to follow, obviously due to the new teacher's office being someplace new. Walking in, the muggleborn stared at Karamazov, still wondering what to think of her.

"You wanted to interview me about my potential, career, Professeure?" Raphael would ask her, glancing at the chair before Karamazov, "I have had some ideas…"

[Britanania]

Karamazov's Office

"Yes, take a seat," she instructed, not looking up from the dossier she was reading--presumably a dossier on Raphael. As he sat, Karamazov spent several minutes letting him wait as she continued to read until finally she put the folder down and looked intently at the muggleborn.

"Raphael Raymond, Muggleborn, House Slytherin. Bat Patronus, and you're also a registered animagus. Also a bat." Karamazov folded her hands.

"And what sort of career are you thinking of?"

[Triassica]

Raphael Raymond

Raphael nodded slowly and took a seat where gestured towards. He watched her curiously and it didn't take long for him to realize that she was reading a file on him. The bureaucracy in the Wizarding World really was no different than that of the Muggle world, even if more "magical".

"Yeah. Read the whole book about me, more or less." Raphael nodded, "As for my career, well, my parents have urged me, and I have had an interest of such, to take part in the legal profession. Though, I'm not sure if the Wizarding World have lawyers, or still do..."

[Britanania]

Karamazov's Office

Karamazov nodded, again looking over the file on Raphael for a few more minutes as she seemingly contemplated his aspiration and weighed them against the matters found in his dossier and school files. With little flourish or enthusiasm, the silver-haired Russian witch put the file down and interrogated the muggle-born through her steely gaze.

"Yes, your parents. Of course, their judgment on the matter is somewhat irrelevant. They aren't British nationals, nor are they wizards themselves. Regardless of your carer choices, it is likely, if not probable, that your contact with them will be limited. That aside, of course, is that matter of you even achieving the marks necessary to be a wizarding attorney. How would your professors judge your chances, in relation to your school work?"

[Triassica]

Raphael Raymond

Raph gave Karamazov a stare at the remark of his parents, before his eyes shifted nervously and bit his tongue. No need to get into a fight and ruin whatever prospects he may still have about his legal ambitions. He took a deep breath and sat back to answer. "Well, I have been doing pretty good in my classes, achieving decent marks on most of my assignments and exams." The muggleborn replied, "I have also begun studying Wizard Law recently, reading Law Books from the Library. Hopefully that will help set me on the right course, right?"

[Britanania]

Karamazov's Office

The Slavic-born witch made a few notes on her dossier, her steely gaze lingering over the muggleborn without a drop of intensity. She remained silent, however, for a few more minutes as she wrote something unseen to Raphael--of course, even if the French muggleborn saw it, she was writing in Old Church Slavonic anyway.

Finally, after some time, Karamazov suspended her pen in midair and turned her focus solely on Raphael, her eyes narrowing ever so slightly.

"And tell me about the memory issues you seem to be experiencing."

[Triassica]

Raphael Raymond

Raphael blinked at Karamazov's next request and paused in thought, wondering if he should speak of this. He trusted her about as far as he could throw her and suspects something to come out at the end of this interview. However, on the other hand, his memory issue have already been known through the school already.

"Well, I suspect someone has tampered with my memory last year, specifically that of my late boyfriend Alexander Markus who... passed away in Year five." He instinctively shivered in that thought, as if even if its vague, it still haunted him, "I have a good idea of who it might be already though. I just need a good time with a friend to confront her about it. Still, my relationship still happened and I have been working hard in collecting pieces to put back together all that happened. It... helps, I guess."

[Britanania]

Karamazov's Office

"You suspect," Karamazov stated, "but can you prove these accusations? Such accusations against a fellow student are grave, and I cannot let them stand."

The career counselor wrote down a few notes in her dossier, barely looking at Raphael even as she spoke to the muggle-born student, seemingly thinking of something else, something as of yet, unknown to the young Slytherin, at least for now. However, after some time of intense scribbling on the document continuing in Old Slavonic, Karamazov looked back up at Raphael and leaned forward.

"As a member of this school's staff, you have an obligation to inform me and the Headmaster."

[Triassica]

Raphael Raymond

Raphael nodded. "A couple of other students who are familiar with Caitie also suspect her." He admitted, "And she is a particularly powerful witch and I wouldn't be surprised if she had skill in memory charms."

He stared at Karamazov as she wrote, before his eyes wandered around, and his mind gave to other thoughts all the while twiddling his thumbs. When the counselor spoke to him again, Raph's head was jolted out of the clouds. The muggleborn nodded slowly, not wanting to admit his lack of trust towards the current upper staff the school. And the fact that the Headmaster was also a suspect.

"Right. I should speak to the Headmaster about this when we're finished." He still agreed. "Is there anything else for us to discuss about my career choice, Conseillère?"

[Britanania]

Karamazov's Office

The counselor nodded, writing down something unknown to Raphae, taking her time with it and letting the muggle-born student linger in her office for a while longer. Finally, she closed her dossier on him and magically moved it into a filing cabinet behind her, which shut and locked.

Karamazov folded her hands together.

"You're dismissed," she told him. "And inform Miss Glacies that she is next in line."

[Triassica]

Raphael Raymond

Raphael stared at Karamazov write something down before looking around a little and getting more eager to leave. His attention was brought back to her when she suddenly put the folder away and finally dismissed him after what felt like eons. Raph nodded slowly and got up with a thank you before turning around to leave the room, taking deep breaths, thankful to be out of there. He just remembered what Karamazov told him when he found Glacies not long afterwards.

"Uh, Ms. Karamazov said its your turn to speak to her." Raphael would sat before looking around for a moment, also just now remembering that he should go to the Headmaster's office, as much as he didn't want to.

[Britanania]

Caitie

The Slytherin witch was reading from her textbook on the history of magic in her usual spot in the Dungeons when Raphael arrived to inform her that she was next for her career counseling session with the new Hogwarts faculty. It was hard for her to believe that only a few months ago, the entire Commonroom and Dorms flooded and she barely escaped with her life before she returned to the Dungeons to defend against the hordes of the undead.

Caitie didn't immediately look up when Raph told her, choosing instead to finish the chapter before closing the book shut.

"Very well," she replied as she stood, placing her textbook down as she exited and made her way toward the office.