A Magical Roleplaying Experience 

Welcome Back! It's time for our 20th Start of Term!

 #39279  by Minerva McGonagall
Location: Hogwarts Grounds • Date: July 1st 1997
Time of Day: Dawn • Weather: Sunny

The grazes on her cheeks and forehead had faded. Despite the light wounds being the last of her concerns a rather insistent Madam Pomfrey had managed to slatter a layer of salve on the cuts.

As the flesh wounds scarred, internal wounds festered. She did not have time to tend to them as it seemed a world of responsibilities had befallen her, but she felt them nonetheless. Guilt, grief, and agony lived in strands that were constantly being threaded in tight knots inside of her chest.

After a long conversation with the Minister of Magic and his delegation, Minerva and the Head of Houses had convened an emergency meeting with the Board of Governors. The meeting would be at noon. As decided with her Head of Houses and Hagrid, she would advocate for the school to remain open. She would also insist that the students be allowed to remain at Hogwarts until Albus's funerals. Harry had been right, they should have a chance to say goodbye.

Minerva stood close to the edge of the lake. The first halo of sunlight reflected upon the Great Lake, mocking her grief. How could the world keep going when such an immense loss had been suffered?
 #39280  by Freya Craft
Freya was puzzling over something it a letter she got from parents.They were questioning how safe school was for Freya.She was coming along rather well in transfiguration and we'll her aunt mysterious died.

She suspect that she was murder by someone her parents hired.But she was planning something they would not see coming.Dumbledore she had nothing against him no hatred.She did feel bad for everyone and she hang out a lot.

She sometimes daydream what it could been like if her aunt had not died.She was seat by tree play a muggle game and she had place where her aunt would play.She saw Minerva standing there she wipe at eye.

"I'm sorry I did not see you standing there."She had bag she started to put game away.
 #39300  by Minerva McGonagall
Startled by the student's presence, Minerva reflexively dabbed the corner of her eyes but found it to be dry.

"It's rather early, Miss Craft," she observed though she suspected most of the students were already awake. News of the prior night's events had probably awoken the entire castle.
 #39301  by Freya Craft
Freya had develop this habit about getting up in the morning like on key she would on time. Would she lay there looking at ceiling unable to asleep?She knew other that other Slytherin would not allow her to play simple friendly game of checker. She was taught this game by her aunt and she taught by muggleborn.

"I just find it difficult to a go asleep with everything that is going on."She was having difficult sleeping.
 #39408  by Minerva McGonagall
A slight nod punctuated the student's statement. She could not argue with that and she could not foresee a time when sleep wouldn't elude her.

Words of comfort seemed futile and yet she wished she could offer them. "It has been a remarkably eventful year," she admitted.
 #39587  by Freya Craft
Freya wasn't tried to be difficult student though she should be because she was slytherin. She could act like everyone else but it had difficult year almost every year since she start school. She miss her aunt stories that is would tell her.That is sometime she would tell her when she went to school at Hogwarts.

"Yeah it has." She did rather well in Mcgonagall class that is transfiguration classes that is for slytherin. "I want to ask you something about transfiguration and being Animagus. Is it difficult that register that to a keep private from other people knowing that should not know."
 #39646  by Harry Potter
The weird, weird thing about devastating loss is that life actually goes on. When faced with a tragedy, a loss so huge, the survivor has no idea how to live through it, but somehow, the world keeps turning, the seconds keep ticking.

And grief still feels like fear. Perhaps, more strictly, like suspense. Or like waiting; just hanging about waiting for something to happen. It gives life a permanently provisional feeling. Up till now Harry had always felt as if he had too little time to achieve the greatness he was promised at birth. Now there is nothing but time, empty successiveness.

The only way he could control his sorrow was not to think of it at all, which was almost as painful as the loss itself. Because there really is only one ending to any story wasn't there? Human life ends in death. Until then, it keeps going and gets complicated. Everything involves loss; every relationship ends in one way or another. It was better to not get attached.

So he waited for dawn, but only because he had forgotten how hard mornings were. For a second he'd feel normal until the the dim awareness of something off, something out of place came crashing down upon him with a hard, physical longing, like a craving for air underwater.

There was no telling how long he had been standing there at the edge of the lake, staring off into the vast watery horizon, unblinking, unmoving, caught somewhere between madness and tranquility. The sound of nearby voices pulled him from his intrusive thoughts and it was with mild curiosity that he even bothered to look over his shoulder. McGonagall stood tall and stiff and was talking to another student who looked as tired as Harry felt. He watched them for a moment, nosily listening in on the conversation before disinterest set in again.

Harry took a deep breath and turned his head towards the lake to take it in for the last time.
 #39652  by Hermione Granger
Hermione's eyes felt like they had been rolled in sandpaper. She had cried so much during the funeral that she wasn't sure she had any tears left. This was probably a good thing, as Hermione currently felt as if any further hysterics would send her over an edge she wasn't sure she could bear.

Dumbledore had always seemed so untouchable. So safe. Never once had the possibility of his death even crossed Hermione's mind. The greatest sorcerer in the world! Gone. Voldemort had won himself a terrible battle in this war. Now there were only three people in the world who knew how to take him down... and they were left more vulnerable than ever.

Hermione swallowed another dry sob at the thought. The rest of the funeral party was breaking up, milling about the sunny, wind-swept grounds. She had to keep herself together - but not for them.

Hermione walked over the crest of the hill and toward the lake, coming to a stop beside the lone figure standing at its banks. Harry stood with his hands jammed in his pockets, expression inscrutable.

"Do you want to go for a walk?" she asked softly.
 #39659  by Harry Potter
"Do you want to go for a walk?" Her voice resonated: a cooing dove amidst the self orchestrated mantra Harry silently repeated in his head.

the locket...the cup..the snake...something of Gryffindor’s or Ravenclaw’s..the locket...the cup...the snake…

Harry blinked, his irises of emerald green narrowing, the pupil constricting and getting visibly smaller until Hermione came into full focus. “No,” he said, feeling betrayed by the calm in his own voice, “I’d like to stay a bit longer.”

The melancholy silence that followed was broken only by the sounds of birds chirping merrily in the trees as if a really promising school year hadn’t ended in tragedy and sorrow. Dumbledore was dead, many others were injured including Bill Weasley who had barely survived a werewolf attack, and while Hermione made the connection to the meaning behind Snape's secret identity as the Half-Blood Prince it was too late to do anything about it.

Harry clenched his fists tightly in his pockets. He could feel the small cold lump of the fake Horcrux which he now carried with him to serve as a reminder of what still needed to be done. He would be sure to finish what Dumbledore started. He would find the horcruxes and destroy them at whatever cost.

“I broke up with Ginny,” he said quietly, avoiding eye contact with Hermione, “Voldemort uses people his enemies are close to.”

Out of the many admiring qualities Hermione possessed it was her compassion and the emotional intelligence she displayed that made Harry thankful she was at his side this very moment. Apart from Ginny, she was the only other person able to understand him on an emotional level.

“ Which is why I have to do this alone. I know you and Ron want to come with me but...losing Sirius and Dumbledore, that’s one thing...losing you and Ron...I can’t.”
 #39664  by Hermione Granger
Hermione nodded sadly.

"I thought you would... sooner or later, anyway. She'll be all right. She understands."

Hermione looked over her shoulder and caught sight of two heads of flaming red hair, one long and one short, standing close by one another. Ginny stood stalwart, strong as ever; but as Ron put a hand on her shoulder, she crumpled. Without missing a beat, Ron drew her into a hug.

Hermione felt a sudden swell of emotion deep in her chest. There was no mistaking the utter tenderness in the gesture.

She forced herself to turn back to Harry. For days now Hermione had been feeling like a cup filled to its brim, any one of the dozens of painfully strong emotions she'd been feeling threatening to spill over the edge at the slightest provocation and overwhelm her. Sadness, determination, fear, hope and... whatever that had just been.

Hermione let out a long, slow sigh. She stared out at the horizon line of the lake with Harry for a long time, letting his insistence sit, heard, for a while.

"I know you're going to tell us to go back, let you do this alone, at least a hundred more times before this is over," Hermione said at long last, "but there's no point. No matter how much you say it, it'll be the same answer Ron gave you just now. We're with you whatever happens."