Wall Of Inspiration

Bertie was looking for inspiration. After recently spending two weeks in St Mungo's due to nasty magical bug alongside The Welsh Green Itch the Ravenclaw had exhausted his creative spectrum. With nothing to do by lay there Bertie had found himself writing crime novels, romance novels, novels about Hogwarts, novels about his friends, poems, plays about love, plays about crime, plays that could only exist in the imagination of Bertius Peter Nogard. The list was endless and now his mind was stuck. Frozen as though trapped in an icy Tundra where his imagination had been smothered by an avalanche. No matter how hard he tried to come up with something to write his mind was blank. For the first time Bertie was experiencing writers block.

After his final class of defence against the dark arts Bertie separated himself from the rest of the fourth year Ravenclaws and in stead of heading up to the common room decided to walk. He wasn't walking anywhere, merely following the direction that his feet took him on his search for inspiration. 

After circling the third floor, going up to the fifth, past the music classroom then down a set of spiral stairs he'd never seen before Bertie found himself once again on the third floor landing. Then, something caught his eye. One of the double doors to the trophy room was open - wide open. Not that there was anything wrong with a wide open door but the Trophy Room was usually locked. 

Taking the opportunity to have a look around the brown eyed boy swallowed then headed into the room. As he entered a flame ignited in a nearby torch besides the door, casting the room in an orange glow. 

The windows were tall and narrow, set in deep arches meaning that the light from outside wasn't entering all that easily. Silver plates and golden trophy's were in a concealed in glass cases. Along the Walls were wooden shelves, each populated with shields and rewards. A suit of armour watched as Bertie made his way around the room. 

There were awards for special services to the school, talisman's for students that had achieved top grades and an entire wall dedicated to the annual gobstones tournament with trophy's dating back as far as five hundred years. It was incredible how huge the room was. The blank canvas that was Bertie' mind had been splashed with colours of reds and greens, blues and yellows. The empty feeling inside his skull was gone and his mind was racing with thoughts. 

This room was a Mark of Hogwarts' History. Students, most of whom were dead, had at one point been just like Bertie. Curious and keen. Some of the trophy owners would have gone on to great things, their first award at Hogwarts being a stepping stone before their Order Of Merlin. Back then, the first year who received the 'most promising transfiguration student' would have had no idea he would invent the self soaping sponge. It was amazing to Bertie, how time flew by, yet nothing really did change. People continued their way of lives as normal as though the entire world was trapped in a cycle, orbiting a certain way of life. 

Walking further into the room the Ravenclaw finally reached the far wall. A large chimney breast with a grande fire place stood proudly at the heart. Around it, however, were plaques. From floor to ceiling there were gold and silver names plaques. Examining the one nearest to him his beady brown eyes read the inscription: 

 

It was almost a memorial for all the people who had fought in the legendary battle of Hogwarts over twenty years ago. That was before even Bertie was born, gosh, his Mum would have been a student then had she not been a squib. 

Immediately Bertie began to search for his aunt and uncle's names, wondering if they had fought at the battle of Hogwarts.


Bertie gulped. Besides Remus Lupin's plaque was a plaque for a Nymphadora Lupin. His wife. It was hard to believe there had once been at battle at Hogwarts, a gruesome battle so gruesome that people had plaques in honour of all those who died and survived in fighting to protect the school. They fought for the future generations. If it weren't for them Bertie probably wouldn't be stood there today, staring at the many names of those who sacrificed their lives or were willing to. 

Jamie always visited the trophy room since she liked seeing the name of her father in a plaque for winning the Quidditch Cup as a seeker. She had it in her blood and she liked being reminded of that,so she constantly visited the Trophy Room. Her brother had shown her the plaque of their father in her first year and since then she decided to become a seeker. Carter told her they both had it in their blood he said he would help her become the seeker of the Ravenclaw team as he once had been before graduating. They practiced everytime they could and when her father still was alive they all played together.Jamie was walking down the stairs of the Ravenclaw tower and decided to be reminded once again who her father had been and what she aspired to become. She walked to the doors of the Trophy Room that were open which wasn't usual she normally had to use spells to unlock it but today that wasn't the case.She walked in and saw a Ravenclaw, a younguer Ravenclaw.

“Hi, are you looking for the name of your parents?”She asked as she standed next to the boy.She looked at what the boy was looking he was looking at the section of the Battle of Hogwarts then she realized it probably hadn't been a good idea to ask since there was a possibility they had died and he wanted to see what they had acoplished. She didn't like to remember people of their tragedies and that would have been what she'd done just now. She actually never asked her brother if their father had been in the battle.She looked for the names starting with the letter D and she found it.

The battle was famous, everybody knew about the battle. Sure it wasn't taught in History of Magic (Professor Binns preferred to do long lectures on giant wars and goblin riots) but people knew of it. It was a battle that had changed everything, brought light into the darkness and changed the face of the wizarding world. Of course it was only the first phase of changing the nation but it was a step. A sacred step.

In books Bertie had read accounts of the battle. Acromantular storming the castle alongside death eaters and giants. People from Hogsmede came up to defend the school alongside the movement named the Order of the Phoenix. On top of that there were the family and friends of those fighting that got wind and ventured to the castle and even a few students had snook back into the castle after evacuation. Bertie liked to think he would be one of them although a part of him knew he wouldn't. Not at his age. Perhaps if he were more of a skilled duelist? Then again Bertie could only imagine how dark times must have been. So dark people wouldnt have cared about living anymore at the prospect of eradicating evil. 

Suddenly a voice broke the thoughts in Bertie's head. Turning around his eyes met those of an older Ravenclaw, sixth year he believed. Jamie Griggory. Quidditch Player. Everybody knew who Jamie was, well, everyone in Ravenclaw anyway. It was a sort of Hogwarts tradition for everyone to know who was on the Quidditch Team, even for students like Bertie who didn't follow it religiously. Without a doubt he wanted Ravenclaw to win the cup but in all honesty it didnt affect him. Living in the Muggle World outside of school enlightened him to sports and activities that wizards didn't such as tennis, badminton, swimming, archery. They weren't played on broomsticks but they were easier to follow. Bertie found Quidditch to be too distracting and on top of that the weather wasn't always the best. If it were to rain when a match was on the budding Ravenclaw preferred to remain in the castle, warm, happy and lost in his imagination.

'Oh. No, I was just looking. I didn't even know there was a memorial in here.' Bertie replied, smiling hesitantly. He didn't feel the need to tell Jamie that his Mum was a squib and his Father... Well, Bertie couldn't remember his Father. He'd heard stories of course, about how after making his uncles piano play by itself his Dad ran out, leaving Bertie and his Mother alone. According to his uncle Bertie's Dad didn't want to be associated with a 'freak of a child.' Not that Bertie cared. Sure when he'd first heard the story it had left him slightly crestfallen but he loved his Mum. His Mum had been twice the parent than his Dad would have been. 

'My Mum didn't come to Hogwarts.' Wow. What was that? The words seemed to have simply slipped from his lips. That wasn't like Bertie, especially when it came to older students. He was awkward, never knew what to say. Perhaps being on the verge of death had changed him more than the Ravenclaw thought. Maybe almost dying had subconsciously woke up him, told him he needed friends, to enjoy life and to chase down whatever he wanted. 

'But I think my uncles and auntie's may be on here, if they were in the battle.' Bertie continued, 'Are yours on here?' He asked, a slight smile spreading from the edge of his lips. He wasn't sure if Jamie even knew his name, chances are she recognised him - in fact he was sure last year the pair had been stood outside the common room for a good fifteen minutes trying to crack the quiz the eagle knocker posed. 

“Jamie Griggory, you are Bertie,right?”She extended her hand for him to shake it.She remembered being outside of the common room trying to solve the riddle together.”She wondered if his parents had been friends with her father. It would have been cool she didn't know why but she felt it would be cool to have a friend of the family attend Hogwarts with her, even if he actually never met her outside of school.He said his mum never came to Hogwarts so that probably ment his mother was a witch and his father a muggle, that was the opposite of what she had.

“Beauxbatons or Durmstrang ?”She knew they couldn't have been friends if she didn't attend Hogwarts but that didn't matter much.She actually already had thrown away the posibility since it was very unlikely to actually be true.

“Do you know what house they were?”Why did she always asked so many things? She was curious and  she used it as a conversation starter, she would be killing 2 birds with 1 stone. “Yes, my dad is right here, my mom was a muggle so she obvioulsy didn't attend Hogwarts.Probably your uncles and aunt are here since I actually didn't know my dad had been there.”She also wasn't afraid to tell her story.She pointed to the plaque. “He is also where the Quidditch players are honored he was a seeker my brother also was a seeker.”She knew that Carter was also there and she hoped she would be there before she graduated.

'Y-yeah, I'm Bertie.' He replied, wearing a look of astonishment. Who knew that the popular Quidditch player would know his name, his name. A warm buzz fluttered through his insides. It felt good, refreshing to be known for a change. Usually nobody knows who he is, they think they have recognised him at the most but to know his name? There had been times when he had to tell people what his name was on three different occasions and they still were completely clueless to who he was. Bertie was often a face with no name and now, here in the trophy room, he was a face with a name. 

Already he felt a likening towards Jamie. She was cool, outgoing and she knew his name. Bertie wasn't sure why the fact she knew his name was so pleasing to him, he didn't feel any sexual attraction towards her. Unless it all went back to his escape from death? Was he destined to become known, celebrated for his creativity? That would be the dream. His ultimate goal in life. To know people loved his writing as much as he loved to write the words would be a completely indescribable feeling. If only he didn't had writers block. 

'Oh.' Now Jamie was asking about which school his Mother had gone too, and which house. He wasn't clued up kn Durmstrang but he'd read about Beauxbatons. It sounded like such a magical place and the French language really did sound beautiful. Pity his Mother hadn't studied there. 'She, erm, went to a Muggle school.' Bertie muttered.

Telling someone he was the spawn of a squib and a muggle always was embarrassing. Not that he was bothered or ashamed. Bertie loved his Mother more than anyone in the world, more so than Vivianna Varnes and that was saying something! Although he remembered saying that his Mother was a squib in his second year - making the mistake of proudly stating it in company of a bunch of Slytherin blood purist. Immediately they laughed, thought it a sham that he was at Hogwarts, thought it pitiful that he barely made it as a wizard. In their eyes he was less than muggle born. He'd been born to a muggle and a witch who couldn't perform magic in the slightest. It was their reaction that made Bertie hesitant about his blood status. What was he exactly? Squib born? If that was a status, or would he be muggle born considering his Mother presented no magical ability? Then again the rest of his family were all half blood descendants, surely that made him a half blood? On the other hand why did he have to be labeled anyway? Bertie was an individual, quirky, you couldn't brand him in anyway what so ever. 

Quickly drawing his attention away from his heritage and to the plaque that read Jamie's fathers name Bertie smiled. 'My family were all in Ravenclaw too, well, apart from my cousin Paul - he was a Gryffindor.' Bertie exclaimed delightfully. 'Do you think it runs in the family, what house you're in?' A spontaneous thought had come to him upon realising that Jamie, like her Father was a Ravenclaw and he, like his aunts and uncles too, was a Ravenclaw. 

“ Why so amazed?You told me your name last year when we were solving the riddle at the common room entrance. You didn't think I'd forget a fellow Ravenclaw's name so easily,did you?”She never actully felt superior for being a Quidditch player.She sometimes forgot she was kind of famous among the Ravenclaws.She actually almost never thought that playing her favorite sport would make her known among the students.When Bertie said that his mother went to a muggle that ment three things, one his mother was a muggle and his aunt and uncle are muggleborn ,two his mother was a squib,or three his aunt and uncle were from the paternal side and they were halbloods or purebloods.Then Bertie brought a thougth into her mind and old thought she had when she was younguer.

“Maybe it doesn't run in the family but you are raised a certain way and that affects it also but sometimes your personality can't be changed and that's why some people in the family are in a different house or maybe the hat also takes into account your family's house history.”She had actually just thought about the second one people said she could have been a Gryffindor or a Hufflepuff because his aunt was a Gryffindor and her grandmother had been a Hufflepuff.She was glad she couldn't have been in Slytherin because she hated one Slytherin in especific,Zabini, the rest were fine as long as they didn't hurt any of her friends.

'Oh, just, people often forget my name.' Bertie replied honestly. There was no point in hiding the fact that he didn't feel rememberable, after all Jamie had asked the question right out and, despite being the clever boy Bertie was, he simply couldn't lie. Besides, Jamie didn't seem the type to judge. 

'Maybe. I think you're right.' Bertie said, 'If someone's parents are Ravenclaw's then they're likely to bring their children up to think like a Ravenclaw. But...' Yet another thought had popped right into his head. 'Do you think the sorting hat ever gets it wrong?' He wasn't asking about himself, no entirely. Sure he'd gone through a phase where he felt like a Hufflepuff but upon reflection he was smart, creative, individualistic. The characteristics of a Ravenclaw. However ever since his near death experience an ambitious side to him had began to shine. Life was short and he wanted to enjoy it, live the life he wanted. Bertie wanted to be famous, known for a change. Famous for his writing. Famous for his imagination. Famous for his creativity. Famous for being himself. 

Perhaps the sorting hat does get it wrong in the long run. Sure people may be Hufflepuff's when they start Hogwarts but perhaps they could grow into Gryffindor's. Something inside of him breaks free and shows who they really are. Instead of being the helpful, hardworking, honest Hufflepuff they're a courageous, noble lion within. 

"That happened to me in my first and second year before we won the house cup in my third year.What year are you in,fifth?"She got Bertie she always was the unnamed face, she really didn't mind but she knew some people that did mind.They didn't ask for popularity they just wanted to be remembered.

"I think it's very hard to change your personality but if you can actually change it the old personality still remains deep inside and sometimes it acts out.People say I should have been a Gryffindor since they believe I'm noble and I'm not afraid of many things but still Gryffindors are more bound to break rules than I am and I spend my days reading not getting into trouble."If a death eater came in right know to try and hurt Bertie even if they were complete strangers she would protect him.She always had felt that it wasn't moral not to protect a life younger than yours she had gotten this from Lucca and she thought it was true, he always protected Julio, his younger nephew from the horrible father that he had.Also from Logan, he always took care of Brad

"Maybe you choose your house subconsciously, when you think about what house could be yours you analyze your traits or abilities right? Maybe the Sorting hat Makes you subconsciously do that.See Logan for example he could have been in Slytherin but he knew he couldn't and he wouldn't because he would save other before himself and even though he was ambitious he didn't want to be like his father who had been in Slytherin."She only knew Logan's father wasn't a good man from what he had told them so she supposed he was right since it was his father.

'Fourth.' Bertie told her, perhaps he has grown more than he had thought over the summer for her to believe him to be a fifth year. Then again, after being ill for the last two weeks or so it wasn't something he'd paid attention to. Glancing at his reflection in a glass cabinet not far away he took in his features. He seemed taller, slimer, as if he'd been compressed inwards and upwards. His cheeks still had that ever so slight chubbiness to them though. 

It was interesting what Jamie was saying about the sorting hat. It was something Bertie usually thought about every sorting ceremony, how it came to it's decision. Then again the sorting hat was like a label. Much like blood status it branded them on their personality and abilities. 

The Ravenclaws were always viewed a studious, clever clogs with their head in a book. Yet Jamie was living proof that there was more to a Ravenclaw than reading all the time, like she said, she had Gryffindor traits. 

After that the Hufflepuff's were given the badge entitled 'duffers'. People looked down on then, assumed them to not be clever enough to be a Ravenclaw, not cunning enough for Slytherin nor brave enough for Gryffindor. The house were friendly, a trait usually overlooked.

Then you had Gryffindor's. The were branded as the brave and bold, the ones who were rebels - sometimes show offs. Yet, Bertie had met a Gryffindor last year: Molly Weasley. She wasn't your typical Gryffindor. She wasn't loud, confident or a show off, however if she were to say she was a Gryffindor people would assume she's all what she's not. 

Of course, lastly there was Slytherin. Known for their notorious ability to get what they want. Branded the devious, meddlesome. Although Vivianna wasn't meddlesome nor was she devious. She was ambition, cunning and Viv represented those traits in a positive, light-hearted fun way. It was a shame half the school would judge her because of her house.

'Maybe there shouldn't be a sorting?' Bertie suggested as he mused over the houses, 'I mean, it gives people a label, brands them to be such and such a person when really there is more than what they show on the surface. It makes me think-' Bertie continued, not noticing his rambling. '-If we didn't get sorted there could be a Gryffindor and a Slytherin who were best friends, each others person, but being sorted into rival houses chances are they'll never be friends.' 

"I don't know maybe but I feel like it unites us all who like the same things but it also makes us rivals with people who also might be like us but don't show it as much but at the same time it separates us from who we might not like.We should be able to make our own quidditch teams though because I don't like having to play against my Gryffindor friends."She went into deep thought all the pros and cons she just could think of one that bother her the most stereotypes.

"You know what I hate, stereotypes.They say every Gryffindor is a show off,every Ravenclaw is studious,they say every Slytherin is devious that every Hufflepuff wasn't good enough.Please just look at me I love knowledge but I don't spend every minute studying or reading.I think I spend more time playing Quidditch than doing homework mainly because I'm fast doing it but still."She knew she was rambling but that was normal for her.She thought too many things and she didn't want to keep the inside.