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In this alternate universe, Lord Voldemort is dead, but so is Harry Potter. Factions continue to fight, Hogwarts educates the next generation of witches and wizards, and the Ministry of Magic does its best to hold everything together.

It is 2030 in the Wizarding World

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Slytherin Graduate
Slytherin Graduate
Keiran Hayes
30 : Alumnus
NoneHogwarts Headmaster
PurebloodHuman
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Opening Feast 2030

on Sat Sep 02, 2017 6:07 am
The Hogwarts Express was up and running again. That was the only thing that concerned him so far. He’d managed to find enough help to transport the train to a safer location, and once brought back to Kings Cross, everything seemed to run according to plan. It pulled in at Hogsmeade, safe and sound, and the first years boarded their boats in time to make it to the feast. At least the year was starting off relatively smoothly.

So as the older students filed in and found seats at their house tables, chatting along the way, Keiran strode up to the Professor’s table, his thoughts distracted. He and Kenna had been working on a way to help students and parents who had trouble affording supplies for the school term. Muggles had to navigate the Wizarding World for the first time when their children received letters, and while he didn’t plan on excluding those from Wizard backgrounds, he was looking forward to the first weekend of the school year, when the events would take place.

At any rate, he set aside thoughts of Quidditch and of Kenna, instead looking towards the great doors at the end of the hall, where first years began to enter. While they made their way to the front, he did his best to look serious but welcoming in case any of the little ones met his gaze. And as Selwyn donned the hat on each one, as the Deputy Headmaster or Headmistress always did, Keiran had to wonder if the other Slytherin hated it or not. Keiran would have.

After the new students had been sorted and the clapping ended, Keiran waited for Selwyn to sit back down before standing to greet them. Luckily, the talking died down relatively quickly.

“Welcome, everyone,” he began, his voice echoing through the Great Hall. “To some, this is of course a familiar home-away-from-home, but many of the students seated around you are in entirely unfamiliar place. I trust that you will all take a moment or two to assist them in the coming weeks as they learn their way around and adjust to Hogwarts life.”

He then took a minute to introduce each of the professors, but then turned back to the room. “Now, I’m sure you’re interested to see what we’re having for dinner. So let me show you.”

With a wave of his hand, Keiran watched the tables cover themselves with all sorts of food – entrees, bread, desserts – and as goblets filled themselves with water or pumpkin juice or whatever else.




[OOC: It might be helpful to mention at the start of your post which table your character is at if they leave their house table. You can also have students approach the professor’s table if they want to. It’s all up to you!]
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Seventh Year Ravenclaw
Seventh Year Ravenclaw
Molly Weasley
Seventh Year
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Re: Opening Feast 2030

on Mon Sep 04, 2017 6:21 am
Spoiler:
Roaming the campground up by the lake where we swam
We were hunting for snakes, but we couldn’t find them.


The car whipped down the road. Molly didn’t know how Margo had convinced her eldest brother to drive, but she had. She and Margo sat up front, though the blonde spent the majority of the ride turned in her seat, chin on her hands, as she animatedly spoke to Kathryn Jericho, turning around only to point out interesting landmarks and tell her brother to shove off when he made a cheeky comment. Molly kept her eyes on the road – someone had to. And she didn’t exactly trust the Richards with heavy machinery.

But time went on and she allowed herself to relax, allowed her eyes to wander, allowed her fingers to  fumble with the straps in her backpack. She wondered if anyone had followed Ace’s rules. She doubted it. She had brought a flask and cigarettes. Margo probably had worse.

Her eyes drifted towards the rearview mirror and looked at the stringbean of a blonde in the back seat. If she didn’t know better, she would have thought Ace looked defeating, but not even Margo Richards in her most hedonistic scheming mindset could derail the youngest Longbottom. But she did look a special shade of miserable. Christian and Apollo were supposed to join them, of course. But the latter had never accepted the invitation, much too busy with his apprenticeship. Christian had, and while he had been intended to go, Ace had been the most enthusiastic of the group, excited to test their abilities with survival.

And then not one, but two clerks called in sick. On the day of the new shipment. Ace had tried to reschedule, and then insisted she not go at all. Few people could convince Ace to do something she didn’t want to. Some would say no one could. But Christian did. At least this once.

She must have felt Molly’s gaze, because those stormy eyes lifted to meet the crystal one in the mirror. Ace shifted, frowning pointedly, and turned her chin away, leaning her head against the window. Molly’s eyes slid over to Kathryn, eyes alight but face somehow closed off, even to Margo, someone she seemed strangely eager to investigate. That was what Molly saw in this strange, budding friendship. An ego and an investigator. It wasn’t hard to guess which Margo was. Figuring out the middle Jericho would take more effort.

And Molly’s eyes continued to travel. To an unruly mop of hair and thin, silent lips. To a boy who struck her as neither loved nor hated, neither legendary nor unknown. The eldest Jericho was liked and known, smart and seemingly unobtrusive. And it seemed very strange to realize that all that separated her from him was a seat back.

His eyes shifted towards her. Warm chocolate brown against cold icy blue. Her eyes moved, more quickly than she meant, back to the road, leaving her only with the imprint of his inquisitive eyes.

Surrounding by nothing but the nothing surrounded us..

The campground was idyllic. A little clearing in the woods. The sounds of the lake lapping up against the makeshift dock. A half mile hike along the water led to a rope swing and a small, smooth cliff, perfect for jumping. It was quiet. Calm.

“You said it would be a survival weekend.”

Ace stood over Margo Richards, her fishing pole in hand. Margo and Kathryn were sitting at a log in front of the fire Casper had conjured, peeling the bark off of sticks to make skewers for the bags of marshmallows in their laps. Margo glanced around, grinning widely, trying to defuse the situation without understanding it fully. Casper was driving the stake of his tent further into the ground, watching curiously. Molly, having been unrolling her sleeping bag, looked up as well.

“Look, I loved the idea of survival weekend, but I did bring some… extra stuff.”

“Extra?”

“Marshmallows. Sausages. Crisps…. Beers. Some vodka-“

“We said essentials only,” Ace said, grip tightening on her fishing rod.

“They’re essential to me,” Margo quipped with a laugh. Ace stared, swelling, but Margo had no eyes for her. Molly’s eyes moved beyond this scene to the boy behind them who was slowly standing. A look of mild irritation gave way to a relaxed smile as he approached, picking up the other fishing rod. “I’ll go with you. I’ll take a fresh catch over whatever store-bought, factory-made food they’ve brought.”

Ace shot him a scathing look but his smile didn’t buckle, tightening the line on the rod. She nodded and he began to head towards the lake. Ace stalked over to one of her bags, bringing her closer to Molly. She kneeled, thrusting her hands into the bag as Margo and Kathryn continued their topic.

“Sorry,” was all Molly said.

Ace didn’t look up. “Not really you’re not.”

“Yes. I am.”

Ace tilted her head, hand still moving in her bag. “Then I’m guessing you only brought the essentials too. The real essentials. No alcohol or drugs or junk foods.”

She stopped her search, only for a moment, to really look at Molly. But she didn’t need an answer. Her lips pursed knowingly and she yanked out her tackle box, dropped the bag, and stalked out of camp.


“Molly. We’re leaving in half an hour.”

Night fell. Ace had said nothing over dinner. She and Casper ate their fish. Margo and Kathryn ate their sausages and crisps and marshmallows. And Molly smoked her cigarette. Ace excused herself for bed the second the girls took our sparklers. Casper was convinced at last and stood, drawing his name and other patterns in the air with the smoke. Molly joined as well, back angled from the group, drawing twisting images only she could discern, of certain Hufflepuffs grasping hands, of certain muggleborns standing tall, of certain Ravenclaws speaking truths. But like these little mental distractions, their smoky images faded into the night sky, with no one but herself to bear witness.

Night fell. She crawled into the tent with Ace, who she knew wasn’t actually sleeping, but she didn’t bother to point it out. And there she lay. Until the sounds of Margo and Kathryn turned to slight snoring. Until Ace’s breathing slowed. Until the sounds of the outdoors seemed less foreign and almost didn’t sound like anything at all.

It took no time at all, and she was sitting on the dock, legs dangling over the water, chill creeping to her bones. Stars scattered across the sky and reflected in a perfectly impossible rendition across the tranquil lake. She lifted her head skyward and her eyes slide shut.

But it’s just me in my room… with my eyes shut.

“Care for some company?”


“I do mean it. One hour.”

Her eyes slid open. She sat on the edge of her bed, trunks at her feet, last year of Hogwarts ahead of her, regrets deep in her heart. She was alone here. Her mother was calling. Her sister was probably already out the door. But she was here and she was alone. The room was empty. She alone knew it was the last time she would sit on her childhood bed. She alone seemed to understand that her childhood was growing to a close.

Still. No reason to keep her mother waiting, she supposed.

The Ravenclaw table was always the quietest, even at feasts. Despite the particularly rambunctious group of first years they had been assigned that year, they still fell into respectful murmuring, drowned out by the happy cheers from the Hufflpeuffs, the proud calls of the Gryffindors, the jostling jeers of the Slytherins. Her eyes drifted across the hall, looking for her small list of people, people that reminded her of the world she desired. The Zabinis, Longbottom, the Jerichos, even Waldorf.

But the food had arrived and she supposed she should eat. She hadn’t been eating much lately. The hams and puddings and rolls held no appeal to her. All she wanted was a night sky, a cigarette, and a  rickety little dock on a peaceful little lake.
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Seventh Year Ravenclaw
Seventh Year Ravenclaw
Charlotte Waldorf
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Re: Opening Feast 2030

on Mon Sep 04, 2017 10:59 am
For the first time in her life, Charlotte was looking forward to school to start. This is it. Her last year. After this year, she will finally go to college and start following her dreams. After she came to the Hogwarts, she first went to her room to put down the books she was caring with her at the train so she had something to read.
When she finally came to the great hall, the ceremony was already finished. Students were sorted and she saw few new faces at her table. It was easy to notice them since they were the loudest students at the table. Other students were silently speaking with each other, probably telling each other how much of the lectures they already read.

She saw Molly and sat next to her with the smile on her face.
"Hi Molly" it was enough to say. Molly was eating so Charlotte didn't want to bother her.
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Seventh Year Gryffindor
Seventh Year Gryffindor
Hit Mulciber
Seventh Year
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Kim

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Re: Opening Feast 2030

on Tue Sep 05, 2017 5:17 am
This was it.

She wasn't sure if she was excited or if she was dreading her seventh year at Hogwarts. The place she'd called home for so long now. There was a mixture of emotions floating around in her chest, making her just slightly nauseous. She wanted to be excited, she really did, but just the thought of having to be a real adult once this year was over was kind of terrifying for Anabelle Mulciber. Once this year was over, she would no longer be a student but a real working adult who would be thrown out into the world.

Good thing she had already started on her career at the Ministry. Not that it scares her any less. In fact, it should probably scare her more.

She was sure the same went for the redhead sitting beside her at the Gryffindor table. Freyja seemed to have even less of an idea of what she was going to do with herself. At the very least Anabelle had already found a department she felt comfortable with, even if it hadn't originally been the choice she'd thought of. Freyja hadn't been that lucky yet, she was still just one of the interns that ran dumb errands and went of coffee runs. She'd tried to tell her friend to intern in the magical creatures department, because of Ryo, but Freyja was adamant about not going there just yet.

She eventually gave up on trying to convince the Podmore girl. Though a part of her was sure she would end up there anyways.

"Are you excited?" Hit looked over at Freyja who'd leaned in toward her to speak.

She shrugged. "I don't.. really know yet. It's weird to think that this is our last year here."

"I know, but then we'll be real adults!"

"Yeah, I know. That's what scares me. I'm not sure I'd really trust you as a "real adult."

"Me? I think you should be worried about Cronis." Freyja laughed along with Hit after momentarily pouting over her previous comment.
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Seventh Year Ravenclaw
Seventh Year Ravenclaw
Molly Weasley
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Re: Opening Feast 2030

on Tue Sep 05, 2017 6:39 am
Absent. It was a word she thought about a lot these days, a word she had finally recognized as one of the truest words to describe herself. She wasn't sure she could truly change that about herself, but she could change the perception, could at least be aware of work to give the impression of warmth to those who warranted it. Trying as she could be, liability that she was, Charlotte Waldorf was a good, naive girl who needed friends and needed kindness. It was that naivete that led her to try and seek camaraderie from one of the few almost incapable of giving that warmth, but Molly could not begrudge her that.

She turned to look at the redhead. "Hello, Charlotte. How was your summer?"

"WALDORF."

Margo slid out of her seat on Molly's left, spun around the two girls, and shoved her way into the seat at Charlotte's right. "Hey! I haven't seen you since - well, you know when." She grinned, acting as though Charlotte and Clair's early departure that night at Satan's hadn't bothered her as much as it truly had. "You get into any more shenanigans?"
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Seventh Year Ravenclaw
Seventh Year Ravenclaw
Charlotte Waldorf
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Nadia

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Re: Opening Feast 2030

on Fri Sep 22, 2017 2:11 pm
If anyone ever asked Charlotte why she was desperately trying to be Molly's friend, she probably wouldn't have a good answer. She was aware of the fact that Molly probably didn't care, not only about Charlotte but about anything. But there was something about this girl that always gives Charlotte peace. Maybe it was the fact that Molly didn't ask many questions, she wasn't the one who will desperately try to realize who Charlotte really was.

"My summer... It was fine, I guess." Her summer was everything but fine. Strange things happened. She spent most of her time working with Christian, only to realize that they probably aren't good for each other. Charlotte wanted attention, love, and someone who understands her, but it was like Christian wasn't able to give her that. The only reason why she was still going to that store every morning was the fact that working would probably look good in her application for college.

And then, she heard her surname. That could be only one person. Before she even realized what was happening, Margo sat on her right side and Charlotte put the brightest smile on her face only to hide the shame she felt.
"Hi Margo, how are you?" Color completely left her face while she was trying to say anything that makes sense.
"Um, no. I spent the rest of my summer working. By the way, I'm sorry because I left Satan's so early but that place just wasn't for me. How was your summer?" Maybe this question would occupy blonde enough to stop talking about that night at Satan's.
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Re: Opening Feast 2030

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