Posts by King and Lionheart

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"Run!"
Penny shrieked with laughter, trying to run without dropping the armful of fireworks she held in her arms. She and her older brother Pippin and their friend Merry rushed into a nearby tent, giggling uncontrollably.
Penny jerked upright as she heard a loud sizzling. "What's that?" she whispered.
Pippin lifted up his now-lit rocket and showed it to his sister with glee. "Time for the party to start!"
"YOU IDIOT!" Penny squealed. "You're supposed to stick it in the ground!"
Pippin's face changed to a look of pure terror as he shoved the rocket into Merry's arms, who threw it back at Pippin.
"God, boys," Penny sighed dramatically as she snatched the rocket out of Pippin's grasp. "It goes outside!"
The three of them stumbled over one another to get out of the tent, but it was too late. The rocket whizzed to life and flew out of the roof of the tent, pulling it away from the stakes that held it to the ground. The rocket flew up into the night sky and burst into an enormous red/gold dragon. The firework dragon flew over the crowd, now panicking as it just brushed their curly heads. As soon as the dragon reached the river it erupted into a thousand golden sparks.
Penny, Pippin, and Merry's clothes were smoking and they were covered in ash, but they didn't care.
"Let's get another one!" Merry cried with a grin. He tried to get up but was shoved back down by a large pair of wrinkled hands.
"Meriadoc Brandybuck and Peregrin and Pennela Took... I might have known." Gandalf the Grey stood before them, glaring sternly down.
"Penny," Penny mumbled. "I'm Penny. I hate the name Pennela."
"Regardless, you're doing the dishes tonight."
And before long, Merry, Pippin, and Penny all stood washing dishes in a barrel under the watchful eyes of Gandalf. Soon, members of the throng began calling out for a speech.
Now, hobbits are known for hating speeches. They would much rather eat, drink, and leave, but speeches were custom at parties, and Bilbo's Eleventy-First Birthday Party was the biggest party Hobbiton had ever seen. Hobbits were already preparing to fall asleep at their tables, for Bilbo's speeches were notoriously long and drawn out.
Bilbo stepped on top of an overturned barrel and cleared his throat. "My dear Bagginses and Boffins," he began, "Tooks and Brandybucks, Grubbs, Chubbs, Hornblowers, Bolgers, Bracegirdles and Proudfoots-"
"Proudfeet!" Old Odo Proudfoot shouted, raising his glass of ale to Bilbo.
"Yes yes, of course. Proudfeet. As you all know, today is my one hundred and eleventh birthday. Yes, and alas...Eleventy- one years is far too short a time to live among such excellent and admirable hobbits!"
The crowd erupted in applause. This was the kind of speech they liked and rarely received form old Bilbo; short and to the point.
"I don't know half of you half as well as I should like; and I like less than half of you as well as you deserve." At this, the more dim-witted members of the crowd clapped as the rest tried to decide if Bilbo's last comment was a compliment or not.
"I have.. things to do and I have put this off for far too long." Penny noticed Bilbo's muscles tighten as he gripped something behind his back, and she leaned away from the barrel of dishes to try and see what it was.
"Oi, stop watching 'Ol Bilby and help us out a little!" Pippin yelled, whacking her in the head with a soapy plate.
"I regret to announce," Bilbo continued, "this is the end. I am going now. I bid you all a very fond farewell!" Bilbo looked across the crowd at his nephew and Penny's best friend, Frodo Baggins. Frodo was staring at his uncle worriedly, and Penny was confused as to why until Bilbo whispered "Goodbye" and disappeared with a flash.
The crowd, including Penny and Frodo, emitted a collective gasp. Hobbits ran around in confusion, asking one another drunkenly what had happened.
Penny dropped her half-washed tankard into the barrel and ran to her friend. "Frodo!" she called "Frodo!"
He heard her second call and turned toward her. "What happened to Bilbo?" Penny asked.
Frodo shrugged. "I don't know. Come on," he said, grabbing her hand and dragging her up the hill.
"Where are we going?" Penny asked.
"Bag-End." Frodo pulled her up to the door and burst through. The hobbit-hole was empty save for Gandalf staring into the fire in the parlor. "Wait here," Frodo whispered, leaving Penny alone in the entryway.
Penny watched as Frodo wandered into the parlor, and leaned down to pick something up off the floor. Penny caught a flash of gold in his hand as he stood up. "He's gone, hasn't he? He talked so long about leaving, but... I never thought he'd actually do it."
Gandalf mumbled something, but all Penny caught was "my own."
"Gandalf?" Gandalf turned to Frodo, eyeing the glint of gold in the hobbit's fingertips.
"Bilbo's ring," Gandalf said, almost absentmindedly. He leaned over to sort through some papers, talking to Frodo all the while. "Bilbo's gone to live with the elves," he explained, "he's left you Bag-End and all of his possessions." Gandalf held out an envelope, into which Frodo dropped the gold object. "The Ring is yours now, Frodo, but make sure to keep it out of sight."
A ring? Penny wondered. What's so important about a little ring? Is it a family heirloom?
"Where are you going?" Frodo asked as Gandalf stood.
"I have some things I must see to," he answered, heading out into the entryway. He did a double take when he saw Penny standing there.
"Ah, Miss Took!" he exclaimed. "Eavesdropping, are you?"
"No, sir," Penny said. "T'was just trying to give you two a bit of privacy."
"Much appreciated," Gandalf nodded. "You didn't hear anything, did you?"
"No," Penny lied. "Can't hear anything over the racket those party stragglers are making."
"Humf," Gandalf sighed. "Well, I'll see you again before the end of the summer, Frodo. Good day, Miss Took."
And with that, Gandalf stepped out of the house and slammed the door behind him, leaving Frodo and Penny alone in Bag-End.

Penny was sipping tea in Bag-End's dining room when she heard a small crash coming form the parlor. "What was that?" Penny gasped.
"I'll check," Frodo said. "Climb out the window there, okay?"
Penny nodded reluctantly as her friend disappeared into the parlor. Suddenly, he let out a strangled cry. Penny jumped up to help him until she heard Gandalf the Grey's voice.
"Is it secret? Is it safe?" Gandalf nearly yelled.
Is what secret? Is what safe? Penny knew that eavesdropping was horribly rude, but she was a Took. Curiosity ran red in her veins. So there she remained behind the door, listening, knowing full well that Frodo wanted her to leave.
Penny watched through the slit in the door as Frodo handed Gandalf the envelope from Bilbo's Eleventy-First Birthday Party. Gandalf snatched it up and tossed it into the fireplace.
"What are you doing?" Frodo asked, bewildered.
Flames engulfed the envelope, burning it away to reveal a simple gold ring. Gandalf reached into the fire with a pair of tongs and lifted the ring out. "Hold out your hand, Frodo. I assure you, it's quite cool."
Frodo cautiously held out his palm and Gandalf dropped the ring into it. Frodo's hand twitched as the metal hit his skin.
"What can you see?" Gandalf asked.
"Nothing, there's nothing. Gandalf, what's this about?" Frodo looked closer at the ring. "Wait..."
The band of the ring glowed as fiery letters began to appear on it. A tiny inscription of what looked like Elvish glowed red as if burning from within.
"I can't read it," Frodo said.
"There are few who can. The language is that of Mordor," Gandalf explained. "I will not dare utter it here. But in the common tongue, it means One ring to rule them all, One ring to find them, One ring to bring them all, and in the darkness bind them."
"What is it, Gandalf?" Frodo asked. Penny was shocked to hear the amount of fear in his voice.
"This is the one ring forged by the dark lord, Sauron, in the fires of Mt Doom, taken by Isildur from the hand of Sauron himself."
"I knew it." Frodo whispered. "Bilbo found it.. in Gollum's cave."
"For sixty years the ring lay quiet in Bilbo's keeping, prolonging his life, delaying old age... but no longer, Frodo. Evil is stirring in Mordor. The ring has woken. It has heard its master's call."
Penny knew the legend, of course. She was a Took. Legends and adventures were their forte. And as dull as hobbits were, most had at least heard of it. Sauron, the evil ruler of Mordor, forged some powerful rings and gave them to the leaders of the Races. But he also forged his ring, the One ring, behind their backs. It controlled the other rings, making it the most dangerous object on the face of Middle Earth. But Sauron had died, and the Ring soon after. What was it doing now, in the care of Frodo Baggins?
"But he was destroyed, Sauron was destroyed," Frodo said, voicing Penny's doubts.
"No, Frodo," Gandalf said. "The spirit of Sauron has endured. His life force is bound to the ring and the ring survived. Sauron has returned. His Orcs have multiplied, his fortress of Baraddur is rebuilt in the land of Mordor. Sauron needs only this ring to cover all the lands in the second darkness. He is seeking it, seeking it, all his thought is bent on it. For the ring yearns, above all else, to return to the hand of its master; they are one, the ring and the dark lord. Frodo, he must never find out."
Suddenly, Frodo scooped up the ring and began to pace. "Alright. We put it away, we keep it hidden! We never speak of it again. No one know it's here, do they?"
Gandalf shifted uncomfortably in his chair.
"Do they, Gandalf?"
Gandalf looked at Frodo sadly. "There is one other who knew that Bilbo had the Ring. I looked everywhere for the creature Gollum, but the enemy found him first. I don't know how long they tortured him, but amidst the endless screams and insane babble, they discerned two words. Shire and Baggins."
"Shire.. Baggins!" Frodo yelled. "But that will lead them straight here!" Frodo thrusted the ring at Gandalf. "Take it! Please, Gandalf, take it!"
"No, Frodo.." Gandalf eyed him with pity.
"You must take it."
"You cannot offer me this ring," Gandalf said sternly.
"But I'm giving it to you!"
"Do not tempt me, Frodo! I dare not take it, not even to keep it safe. Please understand, Frodo, I would use this Ring from a desire to do good, but through me, it would wield a power too great and terrible to imagine."
"But it cannot stay in the Shire!"
"No, dear Frodo, it can't."
Frodo sighed. "What must I do?"
"You must leave, and leave quickly. Pack your things. You need to get out of the Shire."
Frodo, leave? Penny panicked. This sounded dangerous.
"Where? Where do I need to go?"
"Make for the village of Bree. I'll be waiting for you at the Prancing Pony."
"And the ring will be safe there?"
"I don't know, Frodo. I don't have any answers. I must see the Head of my Order. Trust me, Frodo. He'll know what to do. You'll have to leave the name of Baggins behind you, for that name is not safe outside the Shire."
You can take my name, Frodo, Penny thought frantically. Wait, no. That's weird. I didn't mean that, obviously...
"Travel by day," Gandalf continued, "and stay off the road."
"I can cut across country easy enough," Frodo said with feigned bravery.
Oh, Frodo... Penny debated whether or not she should offer to go as well when she lost her balance (she was always a klutz) and fell into a barrel of potatoes with a huge crash.
"What was that?" Gandalf yelled. He threw open the door to find Penny sitting in a pile of food with an overturned basket on her head, a string of carrot stem falling in her face.
"Hey." Penny tried to act casual. "'Sup?"
Gandalf, fuming, snatched Penny up by the back of her bodice and lifted her up, her feet dangling in the air.
"Can't.. breathe!" Penny gasped, the bodice digging into her chest.
"Confound it all! Pennela Took, have you been eavesdropping?"
"No.. sir," Penny gasped, still hanging in the air while Frodo watched terrified from behind Gandalf. "I was.. having tea with Frodo... when you showed up and he told.. me to leave out the window but it was jammed.." Penny was so near passing out she didn't even care that her lie was easily validated. Gandalf dropped her to the ground where she grabbed her chest, sputtering. He marched into the dining room and tried the window. To Penny's luck, the window actually was stuck.
"What did you hear, Took?" Gandalf yelled. "Speak!"
Penny sucked in a breath, panicked. "Nothing important... that is, I heard a good deal about a ring, and a Dark Lord, and something about the end of the world, but... please, Mr. Gandalf, sir, don't hurt me! Don't turn me into anything unnatural!"
Frodo laughed despite himself.
"No," Gandalf smiled. "I've thought of a better use for you."

"Look out!"
Frodo laid sprawled on the ground, Meriadoc Brandybuck on top of him. "Sorry, Frodo!" Merry laughed. Frodo stood just to be knocked down again by Pippin.
"Hey, Sis!" Pippin called, looking up at a taken-aback Penny. "Nice of me to drop in, huh?"
"What are you two doing?" Frodo asked, looking at the vegetables scattered everywhere.
"What are you two doing?" Pippin asked, eyeing Frodo and his sister warily.
"Have you been into farmer Maggot's crops again?" Frodo asked, ignoring Pippin's question.
Just then, the four hobbits heard a rustling in the field beside them. Penny looked over to see the tips of a pitchfork floating above the crop. "Who's that in my field! Get out of it! Get out of my field, you young varmints! I'll show you... get out of my corn!"
"Run!" Pippin shrieked with glee as the four of them hightailed it out of there.
"I don't know why he's so upset," Merry yelled, looking behind him. "It's only a couple of carrots."
"And some cabbages, and those three bags of potatoes that we lifted last week. And then the mushrooms the week before."
"Yes, Pippin, my point is, he's clearly over reacting."
"Three bags?!?" Frodo cried.
"You didn't invite me?" Penny yelled.
The baying of large dogs slowly grew louder and the hobbits ran faster until they reached the woods at the edge of Maggot's property. Frodo skidded to a halt at the top of a bank, where Penny promptly crashed into him, and Pippin into Penny, and Merry into Pippin. The addition of Merry to the pileup sent the four of them rolling down the hill. Penny came to a crash into a tree trunk where Frodo landed on top of her while Merry and Pippin rolled out of sight.
"Ow!" Penny complained. "Get off me!"
"Sorry." Frodo got up, Penny behind him.
"Pippin?" Penny called.
"Here." Pippin was a few feet away from her, staring cross eyed at a pile of horse dung that was just an inch from his nose. "That was close."
"Ow..." Merry moaned. "I think I've broken something." He reached back and pulled a carrot, broken down the middle, out of his back pocket. "Oh."
"Did you have to crash into me, Merry?" Pippin asked.
"What? That was just a shortcut."
"A shortcut to what, exactly?" Penny asked.
Pippin gasped. He'd spotted something under the trees. "MUSHROOMS!"
Merry rushed over to Pippin and began inspecting his latest find. Penny was about to join them, but she noticed Frodo stiffen.
"What is it?" she asked walking over to him.
"I think we should get off the road," he whispered.
A long wail floated down the road. "Frodo..." Penny grabbed his arm.
"Get off the road!" he yelled to Merry and Pippin. He turned and ran into the woods pulling Penny along with him.
"Pippin! Merry!" Penny called over her shoulder, looking to make sure the boys were behind them. They hid under the roots of one of the huge trees.
Before long the sound of galloping hooves neared the four hobbits, accompanied by the same wailing that Penny and Frodo had heard earlier. The sound was the worst thing that Penny had ever heard; some ungodly mix of a dying animal and a knife scraping a rock. The things stopped on the road just above the hobbits. Penny didn't dare breathe as she held so hard to Frodo's and Pippin's hands that she was afraid her bones (or theirs) would crack. After a few seconds, the thing rode on and disappeared from sight.
"A Ringwraith," Frodo hissed as soon as it was gone.
"A Ringwraith?" Merry asked. "Why? Why was one here, in the Shire?"
Frodo glanced at Penny, and then at the ground.
"What's going on?" Pippin asked. "Why did you just look at my sister? Does she have something to do with this?"
Penny jerked her head up. She had never seen her brother act like that. Usually he was completely carefree, always letting Penny tag along with him, no matter how dangerous the stunt they were pulling really was. "Frodo," she whispered. "Tell them."
Frodo sighed and began to explain all that had happened with the two of them, Gandalf, and the Ring.
"Wow," Merry exclaimed.
"Wait," Pippin snapped. "You're dragging my sister into this?"
"I can make my own choices, you know," Penny retorted. "I'm forty-nine. Almost a legal adult!"
"Actually, it sound's like it was Gandalf's choice, not yours," Merry added.
"Not helping."
"Hold up," Pippin interjected. "If you've told us, then that must mean..."
"You bet 'cha." Frodo grinned. "Come along on our adventure, you two."

The four hobbits reached the village of Bree by nightfall. It was a small town nestled into the base of a hill and circled in a large wooden wall.
"Come on," Frodo urged them to the gate, where he promptly knocked.
A small peephole was opened from the other side and the face of a burly man looked down at the hobbits. "What do you want?" he asked.
"We're headed for the Prancing Pony," Penny answered.
The Gatekeeper swung a lantern down to get a better look at the group. "Hobbits! Four hobbits, and what's more, you're from the Shire by your talk. What business brings you to Bree?"
"We wish to stay at the Inn," Frodo said, "and our business is our own."
To Penny's relief, the Gatekeeper opened the gates without any further questions. "Alright, young sir," he said, "I meant no offense. It's my job to ask questions after nightfall. There's talk of strange folk abroad. Can't be too careful."
The tall Bree folk loomed over the nervous little hobbits as Frodo, Penny, Merry and Pippin made their way through the narrow streets. Tall buildings towered above them, their lights glowing dimly from behind thick curtains. The Gatekeeper left the hobbits outside the Prancing Pony Inn, and the four of them headed inside.
The place was crowded and smelled of the strong mead that Men enjoyed. Everyone in the inn were nearly twice the size of the hobbits, and all stared suspiciously at them as they made their way through the winding tables. They stopped in front of the bar, and after a few tries Frodo managed to get the bartender's attention.
"Good evening, little masters," he said as he saw the hobbits. "If you're seeking accommodation, we've got some nice, cozy Hobbit sized rooms available, Mr.. ah..."
"Underhill," Frodo said. "My name's Underhill."
"Underhill, you say?" the tender asked. "And who's this young lady beside you?"
"Penny Took," Penny said. "And this is my broth-" she began to introduce Pippin, but saw he and Merry had already disappeared into the crowd. Probably ordering a ton of food even though we have hardly any money on us, she thought.
"Anyway," Frodo said, "we're friends with Gandalf the Grey. Can you tell him we've arrived?"
The bartender frowned. "Gandalf? Gandalf... ah! I remember him! Elderly chap, big grey beard, pointy hat?"
Frodo nodded with relief.
"Haven't seen him for six months."
"What?" Frodo exclaimed as the bartender turned to another customer.
"What do we do now?" Penny whispered worriedly.
The two of them went to find Pippin and sat down beside him. They tried to look inconspicuous, but Penny couldn't help glancing around once or twice.
"Penny, he'll be here," Frodo assured her. "He'll come."
"I know," Penny said.
Merry walked up to them and sat down carrying a tankard of ale that was bigger than the hobbit's head.
"What is that?" Pippin asked, his eyes wide.
"It's a pint!" Merry said, obviously proud of himself.
"It comes in pints?" Pippin was beside himself. "I'm getting one!"
Penny watched as her brother stood unsteadily and waddled over to the bar. "Pippin, you've had a whole half already..." Penny warned him, but he was already out of earshot.
Penny glanced around again and her eyes met with a stranger in the corner's. He was tall, with shoulder length brown hair and a fair amount of stubble. And he was staring right at them.
"Frodo.." Penny whispered. Frodo followed her gaze and stiffened before waving over a waiter.
"Excuse me, but who is that man?" he asked, nodding toward the stranger.
"He's one of them Rangers," the waiter said. "Dangerous folk they are, wandering the wilds. What his right name is, I never heard, but round here he's known as Strider."
"Strider," Frodo repeated.
"Baggins!" the voice of a very drunk Pippin rose over the crowd. "I know a Baggins! He's right over there!" Pippin pointed straight at Frodo.
"Pippin!" Penny shrieked.
"Steady on, dear sister!" Pippin cackled.
"PEREGRIN TOOK-" Penny gasped as a hand clamped around her mouth.
"Hey!" Frodo shouted. "What are you-" he fell silent when he saw who had grabbed Penny. It was the Ranger who had been watching them, Strider. He drug Frodo and Penny into a corridor away from the crowd.
"You draw far too much attention to yourself Mr.. Underhill," Strider said.
"What do you want?" Penny snapped.
"A little more caution from your friend here," Strider nodded toward Frodo. "That is no trinket you carry."
"I carry nothing." Frodo said, his voice surprisingly strong.
"Indeed? I can usually avoid being seen if I wish, but to disappear entirely... that is a rare gift."
"Who are you?" Penny asked.
"I know what hunts you," Strider said, not answering Penny's question. "You have a stout heart, little Hobbit, but that alone won't save you. You can no longer wait for the Wizard, Frodo. They're coming."
"The Ringraiths?" Frodo whispered.
Strider nodded. "They were once men, you know. Great Kings of men. Then Sauron the deceiver gave to them Nine Rings of Power. Blinded by their greed they took them without question, one by one falling into darkness, and now they are slaves to his will. They are the Nazgul, or Ringwraiths as you called them, neither living or dead. At all times they feel the presence of the ring. They are drawn to the power of the one. They will never stop hunting you."

[color=#363636]The four hobbits and Strider made their way through the forest early the next morning, with Pippin and Merry's hangovers in full swing.
"Where are you taking us?" Frodo asked.
"Into the wild." Penny soon learned that Strider never explained much. He liked to give the simplest and most vague answer as possible whenever he could. Frodo watched uneasily as Strider moved off into the cover of the trees.
"How do we know this Strider is a friend of Gandalf?" Penny whispered.
"We have no choice but to trust him," said Frodo.
"But where is he leading us?"
Strider stopped and glanced back at Penny. "To Rivendell, Miss Took. To the house of Lord Elrond.
Penny nearly shouted with excitement. She had always wanted to visit Rivendell, and now she was finally going to.
"Ugh, how much longer?" Pippin moaned.
"We do not stop until nightfall," Strider stated.
"What about breakfast?" Pippin inquired.
"You've already had it." Strider looked confused.
"We've had one, yes. But what about Second Breakfast?"
Strider stared at Pippin blankly then turned away, shaking his head.
Penny slowed down to match Pippin's stride. "I don't think he knows about second breakfast, Pip."
"What about Elvenses, Luncheon, Afternoon Tea, Supper, Dinner... he knows about them, doesn't he?" Pippin was almost frantic.
"I wouldn't count on it," Merry said.
Strider threw an an apple is to Merry, who deftly caught it. Another, aimed at Pippin, caught him on the forehead.
Penny sighed. "Pippin..."

[color=#363636]Penny's eyes flicked open as Frodo sat suddenly up beside her, sniffing the air. Merry and Pippin were huddled over a fire, sausage, eggs, and bacon sizzling over it.
"What are you doing?" Frodo gasped.
"Midnight snack," Merry shrugged.
"We saved some for you!" Pippin added.
"Put it out you idiots, put it out!" Penny was on her feet now; she and Frodo kicking dirt into the fire to try and smother it.
"That's nice, " Pippin moaned. "Ash on my sausages!"
As soon as the crackling of the fire was gone, the faint wails of Ringwraiths could be heard over the wind. Penny looked down from the cliff they had been sleeping on to see five of them climbing the rocks at an unnatural speed.
"RUN!" she shrieked. The five of them (Strider was awake and alert now) ran up toward the summit of the hill, with Penny and Frodo bringing up the rear. Before long the wraiths were upon them, swinging hissing ebony blades at an impossible speed.
"Strider!" Frodo yelled. Strider appeared in front of them wielding a blazing torch. He swung the torch in front of him, holding back the Nazgul. However, it wasn't enough.
Frodo screamed and Penny turned to see him fall to the ground, blood erupting from his shoulder.
"FRODO!" Penny shrieked, falling to the ground beside him. Frodo's eyes began to roll back into his head. "Help him, Strider, help him!"
Strider gave one last swing of his torch, sending the burning Ringwraiths fleeing down the hill. He rushed over to Frodo and grimaced. "He's been stabbed my a Morgul blade," he said grimly.
"Well, do something!" Penny yelled.
"This is beyond my skill to heal. He needs Elven medicine."
"Well, we were already headed to Rivendell," Penny said. "Come on!"
"We're six days from Rivendell," Strider explained. "He'll never make it in time."
Frodo's breathing was getting shallower by the second. "Is he going to die?" Pippin asked in a hushed voice.
"No. He is passing into the shadow world; he will soon become a wraith like them." Penny heard the ominous wail of a wraith in the distance.
"They're getting close," she sobbed.
"Merry, do you know the Athelas plant?" Strider asked.
Merry looked at him blankly. "Athelas?"
"Kingsfoil."
"Oh, Kingsfoil! Aye, it's a weed."
"Get some. It may help to stall the poison. Hurry!" Merry frantically searched for the small white flower. Finding it, he plucked some from the ground and gave it to Strider.
"What's this, a Ranger caught off his guard?"
Penny looked up to see a tall, platinum-haired Elf before them. She was astride a beautiful white mare.
Strider looked up at her in shock. "Estel?"

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[color=#363636]"Now, tell me again... where are we going?"
Penny rolled her eyes. "Pip," she whispered under her breath. "We're going to Mordor. If you're going to eavesdrop, then why don't you actually pay attention?"
"Well so-ry, mother." Pippin mumbled.
The Fellowship was on its way out of Rivendell at dawn the following morning. Gandalf was in the lead, Aragorn, Boromir, Legolas, Estel, and Gimli behind him. The six of them were deep in conversation, something about Rohan, but Penny wasn't listening. She and the other three hobbits were having their own conversation, one that was immensely better than the other folks' talk, thank you very much.
"I don't feel so good," complained Pippin.
"Probably because you ate four pieces of that Lembas bread," Penny said.
"You ate how many?" one of the Elves, Estel, slowed her pace to match the hobbits'. "That is nearly a month's worth of food!"
"How was I supposed to know?" Pippin mumbled.
"If anyone were to ask for my opinion," said Gimli, who was loud enough that Penny could always understand what he was saying, "which I note they have not, I would say we are taking the long way round. Gandalf, we can pass through the Mines of Moria. My cousin, Balin, would give us a royal welcome."
"Oh, not Balin," Estel moaned. "Please not Balin."
Gimli looked offended. "I'll have you know, you pointy-eared bi-"
"Gimli." Gandalf stared sternly at him. "In response to your proposal, I would not take the road through Moria unless I had no other choice."
"Humf."
Something in the distance caught Penny's eye. Squinting, she could see that it was some sort of dark cloud. "What is that?" she asked no one in particular.
"Nothing," Gimli answered. "Just a wisp of cloud. Ah, you hobbits. So easily frightened." Penny glared daggers at the dwarf.
"It's too fast to be a cloud," Boromir pointed out. "And it's moving against the wind. Legolas! What do your elf eyes see?"
Legolas stared at the "cloud" for a moment before realization dawned on his face. "They're Crebain from Dunland!"
"Hide!" Aragorn shouted urgently.
The Fellowship rushed to hide underneath what little brush there was on the moor. Before long, the "cloud" was upon them; huge, black ravens, cawing and clacking their beaks. They flew over the moor before turning back south.
"Spies of Saruman," Gandalf explained as soon as the birds were gone. "The passage south is being watched. We'll have to take the Pass of Caradhras."

[color=#363636]The Fellowship of the Ring pushed onward through a snowy mountainside, slipping and sliding on the ice and rock. Penny's bare feet ached with cold, and the other three hobbits didn't look to be in much better shape.
Frodo seemed especially miserable. Out of the four hobbits, he was the least adventurous, and looked to Penny as though he was already regretting his decision to go to Mordor. She couldn't blame him. What were they thinking, going to a place like that? There would be a war. War was no place for a hobbit.
Frodo gasped and slipped in front of her. Penny hurried forward to help him, but Boromir got there first.
Something glinted in what little light there was in the storm, a gold something, dangling from Boromir's fingertips. The ring!
"Boromir?" Aragon had come up behind him and was watching anxiously.
"It is a strange fate that we should suffer so much fear and doubt over so small a thing." Boromir murmured.
"Boromir, give the ring to Frodo," Aragon warned. Penny saw his hand drift toward the sword in his hilt.
After a moment, Boromir held out the ring. "As you wish," he said, surprisingly lightly. "I care not."
Yeah sure, Penny thought. As soon as Boromir and Aragorn turned away, she rushed over to Frodo. "Are you okay?" she asked.
Frodo nodded and opened his mouth to speak, but fell silent as the wind suddenly howled louder than ever before. The hobbits staggered to avoid tumbling off the cliff, and Aragorn nearly fell back on top of Frodo and Penny. She looked behind her to make sure Merry and Pippin were okay, when the rock beneath her began to break. Loud cracks filled the air, along with something else, some sort of chanting...
"Listen!" Legolas cried. "A voice!"
"Cuiva nwalca Carnirasse, nai yarvaxea rasselya!"
"What is it?" Penny called.
"It's Saruman!" yelled Gandalf.
Penny shrieked as the cliff beneath her broke off entirely. Frodo grabbed her by the arms and pulled her back onto the mountainside. As soon as they were steady (as much as one can be in a horrid snowstorm), a large boulder came tumbling down the mountain above. The two hobbits leapt aside just in time.
"He's trying to bring down the mountain!" Estel cried. "We must turn back!"
"No!" Gandalf shouted. He raised his staff and began to chant as well. "Losto Caradhras, sedho, hodo, nuithoi ruith!"
But it was no use. Saruman's voice was growing louder and louder, and was soon shaking the whole mountainside. White snow began to fall from the cliffs, faster and faster, until an avalanche came racing down toward them. Within moments, the pass was blocked and Penny was neck deep in snow. Before long, she couldn't see anything but white and the occasional jagged rock.
The avalanche stopped as suddenly as it began. After a couple seconds, Penny felt a cold hand grab the hood of her cloak and pull her out of the snow.
"You okay?" Estel asked as Penny brushed the snow from her clothes. She had never been so cold in her life.
"F-f-fine," Penny shivered.
She felt a hand on her arm and looked over to see her brother, Pippin. "W-watcher, Penny," he grinned, his teeth chattering.
"We must get off the mountain," Boromir yelled. "Make for the Gap of Rohan and take the West road to my city!"
"The Gap of Rohan takes us to close to Isengard," Aragorn pointed out.
"We cannot pass over a mountain. Let us go under it. We can go through the Mines of Moria," suggested Gimli.
"We shall let the ring-bearer decide." Gandalf said.
Penny looked at Frodo, who thought for a moment, and said, "We will go through the mines."
Gandalf nodded. "So be it."

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burke.
the only town in the world that has dragons, let alone rides them.

[color=#363636]x basic information
x

[/fancypost]

[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 360px; font-family: bell MT; font-size: 12px;][justify][color=#363636]
[color=#363636]Basic Information x
x Lyanna is the younger sister of Bellatrix, Andromeda, and Narcissa Black.
x She is seventeen years old.
x In the Slytherin house.
x Captain and Seeker of the Slytherin Quidditch Team.
x Lyanna is really competitive, sarcastic, and ambitious. She's best friends with the rest of the Marauders, but also popular within Slytherin House.
x While she doesn't hate the two of her older sisters that are active in Lord Voldemort's cause, Bellatrix and Narcissa, she certainly doesn't approve of them either. Lyanna hates Death Eaters, and Voldemort, but she believes that while one can choose their own family, like her cousin Sirius has, she still loves her sisters (she ends up dying before Bella, her husband, and Barty Crouch Jr. torture the Longbottoms though, so she'd end up hating Bella eventually. It's a complicated relationship.)
x Unlike the majority of her fellow Slytherins, she doesn't hate Muggle-borns. She is able to see that Muggle-borns are capable of great magic (like her friend Lily, for example,) and that's good enough for her.
x Is currently dating (and eventually will marry) Remus Lupin.

Outfits x
school uniform
quidditch unifrom
hogsmeade wear
casual wear
casual wear
casual wear
casual wear
casual wear
formal wear
formal wear
ball wear

theme x obliviate (skip to about 50, it's super quiet at first)
[youtube]7RkRlgYGdbY[/youtube]

[/fancypost]

[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 360px; font-family: bell MT; font-size: 12px;][justify]
"Hey." Lyanna slid onto the bench across from Alice, ignoring her reproving glance. Members of other houses weren't technically allowed to sit at another house's table, however it wasn't during a meal and she wanted to catch up with her friend.
"James giving you a hard time already?" Lyanna asked. She knew Alice despised most of the "Marauders," as they called themselves, but Lyanna didn't. She, like almost everyone else at Hogwarts, found them amusing, and spent most of her free time with them. She was even dating Remus Lupin, though the two were polar opposites.
Lyanna knew that Alice liked Sirius, it would have been obvious even if Alice hadn't told her. She was so tempted to tell Sirius, but she knew how cruel that would be, and decided to instead spend her time teasing the two whenever possible.
"You know, Sirius.."
Alice's face burned at the mere mention of his name. Lyanna laughed. "So, anyway, have you seen Iglehart? I need to give him his Quidditch schedule." Daniel Iglehart was the Slytherin Keeper.
"You have a schedule done already?" Alice asked.
"Yep! Made it over the summer. Hey, Evans!"
Lily Evans looked up from her parchment and saw Alice and Lyanna. "Oh, hey!" She walked over and sat down beside them. "How was your summer?"
"Confusing." Lyanna pursed her lips. "Bella's up to something, she's still into that whole You-Know-Who-Nonsense. She's dragging Cissy into it now as well. She's dating that Malfoy boy she was friends with at school, Lucius, and he's just as bad as Bella. I just hope they'll forget about it soon."
"Same with Severus," Lily said. "They should form a club."
"They have," Lyanna whispered, looking down at her lap. Severus was one of the Slytherin boys that called themselves Death Eaters. They didn't openly support You-Know-Who, no one dared to under Professor Dumbledore's watchful eyes, but everyone knew they wanted to join him. Two of Lyanna's older sisters, Bellatrix and Narcissa, were (and as far as Lyanna knew, still are,) Death Eaters. Her other sister, Andromeda, had been disowned after eloping with a Muggle-born boy known as Teddy Tonks.
Alice shook her head. "They'll come to, I know it."
"Al, not to be rude, but I think I know my own family a bit better than you do."
"Sorry," she mumbled.
Lyanna sighed. "Well, I'd better go track down Iglehart. See you in Double Potions tomorrow morning, Lily?"
Lily nodded, clearly still deep in thought about Severus.
"See 'ya, Ly," Alice called as Lyanna hurried from to Great Hall and out onto the Hogwarts Grounds.
It was the first day of Lyanna's seventh year, and she already knew it was going to be a good one.

[hr]

Lyanna blinked her eyes groggily as she stared down at her schedule, trying to ignore the shouts of her fellow Slytherins.
"Did you see, You-Know-Who killed another Mudblood woman! Look, it's in this morning's Prophet!"
Lyanna looked down the table as a fifth year boy, Markus Ledford, read out loud,

[color=#363636]"She had it coming for her, being what she was," another Slytherin interrupted.
Lyanna clenched her teeth, but before she could say anything, Ledford began to read again.

[color=#363636]"That's the end of the article," Ledford said. "I do hope the Dark Lord picks up the pace soon, don't you agree?"
After a few moments, Lyanna looked up and realized that Markus was staring straight at her. "Hm?" Lyanna started.
"I said," Markus sighed, drawing out his words, "I hope He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named will hurry up and kill the rest of these Mudbloods. Don't you think so? Your sisters are Death Eaters, aren't they? I heard that Bellatrix and Rodolphus Lestrange are You-Know-Who's most trusted supporters, and that Narcissa isn't doing too bad for herself either. Are you going to join the Death Eaters after school? I know I am. They're doing real good for the Wizarding World, that lot."
Lyanna stood, her breakfast untouched, and made her way out of the Great Hall.
Markus stared after her. "Was is something I said?"

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[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 360px; font-family: bell MT; font-size: 12px;][justify]
[color=#363636]

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[hr]

[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 360px; font-family: bell MT; font-size: 12px;][justify][color=#363636]
[color=#363636]basic information x
x Muggle-born.
x Younger sister of Petunia Evans, a muggle who despises her sister out of jealousy.
x Member of Gryffindor house, and is a Prefect as well as Head Girl.
x Used to be best friends with Severus Snape, but she ended the friendship in their fifth year due to Severus's calling Lily a "Mudblood" and his fascination with the Dark Arts.
x Lily always disliked James because he bullied other students, however she always admired his loyalty to his friends.
x She became quite skilled at Potions, attracting the attention of Professor Horace Slughorn, who made her a member of his Slug Club.
x Lily's two best friends included Alice Potter, James's younger sister (only by eleven months, though, as she was in the same year as her brother), and WHOEVER THE HECK JOANNA'S CHARACTER IS YO

outfits x
school uniform
quidditch unifrom
hogsmeade wear
casual wear
casual wear
casual wear
casual wear
casual wear
formal wear
formal wear
ball wear

theme x
[youtube]sfU_sC7m2cA[/youtube]

[/fancypost]

[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 360px; font-family: bell MT; font-size: 12px;][justify][color=#363636]
[color=#363636]basic info x
x twenty years old.
x born in Warrington, UK on March 7, 1944 to fashion designer Ossie Clark and his wife, Celia Birtwell.
x started singing when she was sixteen under her father's label, and has become the biggest blues singer in the UK.
x has one older brother; George (21), and a younger sister; Anna.
x will eventually fall in love with Paul McCartney.

outfits x
casual wearcasual wear
casual wear
casual wear

formal wear
formal wear
formal wear

swim wear
swim wear
swim wear

winter wear
winter wear

theme x penny lane
[youtube]1FlQCtg96SQ[/youtube]

songs x
[youtube]hMq2KnudicQ[/youtube]

[youtube] ORnYNaTZGUU[/youtube]

[youtube] 8ZwCu8u0bzA[/youtube]

[youtube]1fA4uA2-BQ4[/youtube]

[youtube] 3BwfuFuYOWE[/youtube]

paul x

[img width=377 height=510]http://38.media.tumblr.com/tum…zdtnVbWb1qhnkvco1_500.jpg[/img]

[/fancypost]

[hr]

[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 360px; font-family: bell MT; font-size: 12px;][justify][color=#363636]
[color=#363636]basic info x
x seventeen year-old daughter of Bellatrix and Rodolphus Lestrange.
x went to live with her cousins, the Malfoy's, when her parents were arrested for torturing Frank and Alice Longbottom, along with Bartemius Crouch Jr. and Emma's uncle, Rabastan Lestrange.
x her cousin, Draco Malfoy, became like a little brother to Emma during the ten years she lived at Malfoy Manor.
x at Hogwarts, Emma was sorted into Gryffindor, much to her Aunt and Uncle's dismay.
x became close friends with fellow seventh years, Fred and George Weasley, Lee Jordan, Angelina Johnson, and Katie Bell, as well as Robin Weasley, Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger.
x after becoming friends with the Weasley's in her first year, who were blood traitors, the Malfoy's disowned Emma and she went to live at the Burrow.
x Chaser for the Gryffindor Quidditch Team, and became Captain during her seventh year after Oliver Wood left.
x currently dating eighteen year-old Oliver Wood, former Keeper and Captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch Team.
x Oliver is currently playing Keeper for Puddlemere United.
x will eventually break up with Oliver because of distance and date George Weasley, whom has fancied her since third year (which was obvious to everyone except for Emma, of course). They will get together after Emma is injured by her mother in the battle at the Department of Mysteries.
x prefect.
x gets good marks, especially in Transfiguration.
x Emma's parents, Bella and Rodolphus Lestrange, are currently in Azkaban.
x even though Emma was disowned by the Malfoy's, she and Draco still get along rather well, even though they get on one another's nerves quite often.
x is a member of the Order of the Phoenix and will join the D.A. later in the year.
x has two pets, an owl named Charlie and a calico cat named Ollie (click their names to see them)
x plans on playing Quidditch professionally after school.

outfits x

school uniform
quidditch robes
artifacts
formal wear

hogsmeade wear vol. I
hogsmeade wear vol. II

weekend wear vol. I
weekend wear vol. II
weekend wear vol. III

night wear
swim wear

theme x
[youtube] RLkGKkfmgjU[/youtube]

George Weasley x

[img width=478 height=510]http://31.media.tumblr.com/63c…3qwohKQ1t6s1gro1_1280.jpg[/img]

my love
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[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 360px; font-family: bell MT; font-size: 12px;][justify][color=#363636]
[color=#363636]"I can't believe we have so much homework already. It's only the first day!"
"But it's N.E.W.T. year," Emma said absentmindedly. She was doodling on the edge of her Potions essay, watching Fred and George complain out of the corner of her eye.
"I don't care about whether it's N.E.W.T. year or not," Fred whined. "I don't have the time for all this. Two feet of parchment from Snape, one from McGonagal, and we have to practice Bubble-Head Charms for Flitwick!"
"Well, you have three days to do it, why don't you get started?" Emma snapped. She wasn't usually so short tempered with the twins, but she was trying to concentrate on her own essay, which was on the properties of moonstones. She could care less what moonstones did, but Snape didn't hate Emma quite as much as he did other Gryffindors (because of her past history with the Malfoy's and the fact that she was a pure-blooded Lestrange) and so if she did well on the first essay of the year, Snape wouldn't make her bomb the rest of them. However, after only a few minutes, she decided she couldn't concentrate on her essay and would talk to Fred and George instead.
"We could ask around-"
"Or pin up flyers-"
"Nah, the prefects would just take those down-"
"Us prefects would remove what, exactly?" Emma asked. The twins grinned at her. Even though she was a prefect, they new she would never turn them in, and she actually got them out of trouble more often than not.
"We need more testers for our Skiving Snackboxes. You can't because you're a prefect, you'd be in huge trouble; Lee's too chicken; and Angelina and Katie'd never agree to it, they don't like us enough," George explained.
"And it's getting rather difficult to test ourselves. We don't know if our, erm, side affects are from one candy in particular or multiple reacting with each other." Fred said.
"Side affects?" Emma raised her eyebrows.
"Well, when we tested out the fever fudge, you know, the red coloured ones, we got these massive puss filled boils, and we haven't worked out how to get rid of them yet." George said rather quickly.
"What are you talking about? I don't see any boils."
“No, well, you wouldn’t,” said Fred darkly, “they’re not in a place we generally display to the public —”
“— but they make sitting on a broom a right pain in the —”
“All right enough!" Emma squeezed her eyes shut. "I get it, I get it, hush up!"
They laughed. "Want one?"
"God no," Emma snapped. "But I'll tell you what, why don't you try and put some Murtlap Essence on your, erm, 'boiled areas'. It's supposed to help heal things."
"Thanks, will do," said George and he and Fred stood up and started toward the portrait hole. "See you in a few minutes."
"Not now! It's after hours! And besides, I have some in my potion-making kit in my dorm. Lemme go grab it."
"Few," sighed Fred, sitting back down. "It's tough breaking into Snape's private stores at the best of times, but after hours on the first day? What a nightmare."
Emma rushed upstairs and rummaged around in her potion-making kit. As soon as she grasped her bottle of Murtlap Essence, she started out the door to find Angelina Johnson and Katie Bell standing there.
"Oh, hi Emma!" said Katie. "What's that for?"
"You don't want to know," Emma said, and pushed past them back down into the Common Room.
"Here," she gasped, shoving the bottle into George's hands. "Now go about your business."
"Thanks," the twins said in unison, and headed up to their dorm.
Emma pulled her potions essay back out of her bag and was about to start working on it again when she heard someone call her name. She looked up and saw Robin, Harry, Ron, and Hermione slide into the couch across from her armchair. "How come the twins need Murtlap Essence?" asked Hermione, who was probably the only one of the four who actually knew what Murtlap Essence was (seeing as it was an ingredient learned about in the sixth year).
"Can we please stop with the Murtlap?" Emma yelled, causing a group of first years sitting nearby to jump. "Sorry," she mumbled to them.
"Okayyyy..." Robin said, giving Emma her signature you'd-better-tell-me-later-or-I'll-murder-you glare.
"Look, I'm sorry, but I'm exhausted," Emma sighed. "I'm just going to go up to bed."
"Okay," said Harry.
Emma scooped up her bag and headed up into her dorm, but not before she heard Ron mumble "It's only the first day, and she's gone mental already."

[hr]

The first week of term flew by fast, and before long it was the weekend. Emma had booked the Quidditch Pitch for the day, and was planning on holding tryouts for the new Gryffindor Keeper, as Emma's boyfriend, Oliver Wood, had graduated last year. However, it had been storming from the moment she had woken up, but she wasn't going to let a little rain stop the tryouts.
Alright, team, listen up," Emma called at breakfast that morning. Fred and George, who were sitting on either side of her, stopped talking at once, along with Angelina, Katie, and Harry, who were sitting across from her. "I know it’s not ideal weather, but there’s a good chance we’ll be playing Slytherin in conditions like this so it’s a good idea to see how our potential Keeper will cope with them. Harry, didn’t you do something to your glasses to stop the rain fogging them up when we played Hufflepuff in that storm?"
“Hermione did it,” said Harry. He pulled out his wand, tapped his glasses and said, “Impervius!”
“I think we all ought to try that,” said Emma. “If we could just keep the rain off our faces it would really help visibility — all together, now — Impervius! Okay. Let’s go.”
They all stowed their wands back in the inside pockets of their robes and headed out to the changing rooms. Once in their quidditch robes with their brooms shouldered, they headed out into the field.
There was a group of about fifteen students standing in the center of the pitch, ranging from third to sixth years. Emma noticed Ron Weasley right away; even the rain couldn't obscure his flaming red hair.
"Ron's trying out?" Fred said in disbelief. "He'll never make it!"
"You won't be the judge of that," Emma chastised.
"Alright, team, up!" As soon as Emma yelled, the six players kicked off the deepening mud and rose into the air. Emma followed, feeling the usual rush of excitement as her Firebolt flew through the air. "First off, Demelza Robins!"
Demelza, a nervous looking third year with long auburn hair, kicked off the ground and flew over to the goals. Angelina and Katie took turns throwing the Quaffle at the hoops while Emma scored Demelza. Harry was off chasing the Snitch somewhere, and Fred and George were beating a Bludger back and forth with their bats. Emma watched them inbetween contestants, and as soon as the rain died down from a torrential downpour to a low roar, she could hear them complaining in low voices.
“I think a few of mine have ruptured,” said Fred in a hollow voice.
“Mine haven’t,” said George, wincing. “They’re throbbing like mad . . . feel bigger if anything . . .”
Emma looked away at once, praying she'd be hit in the head with the Bludger and forget what she'd overheard.
"Ron! Ron Weasley!" she yelled, trying to concentrate on anything, everything, but the Weasley twins.
At this, Harry stopped searching for the Snitch and began to watch Ron as he flew over to the goals on his new Cleansweep Eleven.
Ron was the last contestant to go, and by the end of the tryouts Emma had decided that she would give the position to him. He had done second best out of all the contestants, saving nine out of the ten Quaffles, but the only person to score ten out of ten was Cormac McLaggen, who was a major pain in the "boil spot" (one of them, at least) and whom Emma didn't want to spend her last year on the team with.
That night, after dinner, Fred and George threw a party in the Common Room congratulating Ron on his making the team. Emma stayed until around midnight when she crept up to the girl's dormitories, leaving Fred and George behind to finish setting off their indoor fireworks display.
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[color=#363636]"What do we have today?" George asked at breakfast, picking at his eggs with his fork.
"Care of Magical Creatures, Double Herbology, and Defense Against the Dark Arts," Emma answered, trying to concentrate on reading the letter Oliver had sent her.

Dear Emma,
It's hardly been three months
since last school year ended,
and I miss you so much already...

Emma sighed and sat down her letter, choosing instead to focus on her pancakes. She loved Oliver, but sometimes he was just too pretentious.
"Trouble in paradise?" Fred asked.
"Not really," Emma said, not wanting to explain her feelings (which seemed to be getting more and more complicated by the minute.) "We should probably get going, we have to go out to the grounds for Care of Magical Creatures." Emma swung her bag over her shoulder and stood up. "Come on."
The first Care of Magical Creatures class of the year was more educational than usual, since Hagrid was still no where to be found. Not that Emma didn't like Hagrid, of course, but all they ever did was feed flobberworms and walk blast-ended skrewts. Double Herbology was terrible, owing to the fact that it was with the Slytherins and the new Slytherin Quidditch Captain, Graham Montague, was even more cruel to Emma, the twins, Angelina, and Katie than usual. After lunch the Gryffindors headed up to their first Defense Against the Dark Arts class of the term.
"I wonder what Umbridge is like," George said to Emma as they waiting for Fred to grab his copy of Defensive Magical Theory from the Common Room where he had "forgotten it."
"Well, judging by her start of term speech, I'd say a right piece of work," Emma said.
"Agreed." George looked at her quizzically for a second. "Hey, um-"
But whatever he was going to say was cut off as Fred came clambering up the staircase, making it just before it moved. They ran full speed to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, getting it there just in time.
"That was close," Emma said under her breath, giving a halfhearted wave to Angelina and Katie.
As soon as Emma got herself situated, she noticed Professor Umbridge already seated behind her desk at the front of the classroom, wearing the same horrible pink cardigan and black bow as the night before.
"Good afternoon!" she chirped in her sickly sweet voice as soon as the last person to arrive, Lee Jordan, sat down beside Emma.
A few people mumbled "Good afternoon," in reply. Fred and George exchanged amused glances.
"Hm," Umbridge feigned a sigh, looking around at the class disappointedly. "That won't do, now will it? I should like you to reply 'Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge.' One more time, please. Good afternoon, class!"
"Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge," the majority of the class chanted, although Fred and George merely snickered under their breath.
"There now," said Professor Umbridge sweetly. "That wasn't so bad, now was it? Wands away and quills out, please."
A few members of the class groaned at this; the order "wands away" had never yet been followed by a lesson they had found interesting. Emma shoved her wand inside her bag and instead pulled out her golden quill, ink, and a fresh roll of parchment, tearing off two pieces for Fred and George, who had surely forgotten them.
"You know us too well, Emma my dear," George whispered, earning a "Hem hem" and a glare from Professor Umbridge, who stalked slowly toward them, staring at the twins all the while. Emma was reminded of an oversized toad sizing up a likely-looking fly.
"I see you two did not come prepared?" Umbridge said, pouting her lower lip in disappointment. "Pity. Five points from Gryffindor, each. And five from Miss Lestrange, as well." She turned on Emma. "As a Prefect, I should be able to count on you to help enforce the rules, rather than aid in rule-breaking. How.. disappointing."
What? Emma glared at Umbridge's back as she returned to the front of the room. She could see the rest of the class watching the three of them from the corner of her eye.
"Wow," Lee whispered to Emma. "What a b-"
"Twenty points, Mr. Jordan," Umbridge called. "There shall be no cursing in my classroom."
"Better learn how to talk quieter, Lee," Emma whispered. Lee had never been very good at keeping his voice down.
"And this goes for all of you," Umbridge said, addressing the class, "You shall raise your hand if you wish to speak in my class. Understood?"
The class nodded.
"Tut, tut. That won't do. We already went over this! I want you to say, 'Yes, Professor Umbridge.' Go on, now."
"But we were just told not to speak!" Emma said before she could stop herself.
"Twenty points for you as well, Miss Lestrange. My, what a disappointing Prefect you are."
Emma's face burned. At least the Slytherins aren't here, she thought, trying not to imagine Montague's snickering face.
"The next person who speaks out of turn will receive detention," Umbridge said, still smiling sweetly. "Now then. Let us start, shall we?"
A few students muttered, "Yes, Professor Umbridge."
Umbridge smiled. "Good." She opened her handbag, extracted her wand, which was an unusually short one, and tapped the blackboard sharply with it; words appeared on the board at once:

“Well now, your teaching in this subject has been rather disrupted and fragmented, hasn’t it?” stated Professor Umbridge, turning to face the class with her hands clasped neatly in front of her. “The constant changing of teachers, many of whom do not seem to have followed any Ministry-approved curriculum, has unfortunately resulted in your being far below the standard we would expect to see in your O.W.L. year.
“You will be pleased to know, however, that these problems are now to be rectified. We will be following a carefully structured, theory- centered, Ministry-approved course of defensive magic this year. Copy down the following, please.”
She rapped the blackboard again; the first message vanished and was replaced by:

Course aims:
1. Understanding the principles underlying defensive magic.
2. Learning to recognize situations in which defensive magic
can legally be used.
3. Placing the use of defensive magic in a context for
practical use.

For a couple of minutes the room was full of the sound of scratching quills on parchment. When everyone had copied down Professor Umbridge’s three course aims she said, “Has everybody got a copy of Defensive Magical Theory by Wilbert Slinkhard?”
“Yes, Professor Umbridge,” rang through the room.
“Good,” said Professor Umbridge. “I should like you to turn to page five and read chapter one, ‘Basics for Beginners.’ There will be no need to talk.”
Professor Umbridge left the blackboard and settled herself in the chair behind the teacher’s desk, observing them all with those pouchy toad’s eyes. Emma turned to page five of her copy of Defensive Magical Theory and started to read.
It was desperately dull; Emma felt her concentration sliding away from her; she had soon read the same sentence a dozen times. On her left, Fred and George were messing with something from Zonko's Joke Shop, and to her right Lee was drawing a lion on the corner of his book.
Around ten minutes later, Umbridge stood. "Now then. Are we all finished?"
The students jumped, startled out of their stupor.
"Good. Now I want you to read Chapter Two for homework tonight. Any questions? Yes, Miss Johnson?"
"There was nothing in the course aims about using defensive spells," Angelina said. Emma looked over the board and realized she was right; it said nothing about using spells.
"Using defensive spells?" Umbridge repeated with a little laugh, as though the thought had never occurred to her. "Why, I can't imagine why you'd be needing to use spells, Miss Johnson. You surely aren’t expecting to be attacked during class?”
“We’re not going to use magic?” Fred ejaculated loudly.
“Students raise their hands when they wish to speak in my class, Mr. -?”
“Weasley,” said Fred, thrusting his hand into the air.
Professor Umbridge, smiling still more widely, turned her back on him. George, Katie, and Emma immediately raised their hands too. Professor Umbridge’s pouchy eyes turned to Katie.
“Yes, Miss-?"
"Bell," Katie said.
"Miss Bell. You wanted to ask something?”
“Yes,” said Katie. “Surely the whole point of Defense Against the Dark Arts is to practice defensive spells?”
“Are you a Ministry-trained educational expert, Miss Bell?” asked Professor Umbridge in her falsely sweet voice.
“No, of course not—”
“Well then, I’m afraid you are not qualified to decide what the ‘whole point’ of any class is. Wizards much older and cleverer than you have devised our new program of study. You will be learning about defensive spells in a secure, risk-free way." She smiled. "Anything else?"
The class remained silent.
"Good. Class dismissed."
The class filed out silently, but broke into speech as soon as they got down the staircase.
"What makes her think that-"
"Why can't we use magic-"
"Who shoved a wand up her arse?" Fred asked as they headed toward the Common Room.
"No idea," George said.
"But no magic?" said Emma. "What is she thinking?"
"Some rubbish she and Fudge came up with, no doubt," Fred said darkly.
"But if we can't use magic, how are we going to protect ourselves?" Emma asked.
"I'm sure Dumbledore will think of something," George assured her.
"Yeah," said Emma, not convinced. "He will."

[hr]

"High Inquisitor?" Emma gasped, lying the copy of the Daily Prophet Charlie had brought her down on the table so Fred and George could see.

"High Inquisitor?" said Fred darkly, his half-eaten toast slipping from his fingers. "What does that even mean?"
Emma read aloud:
“In a surprise move last night the Ministry of Magic passed new legislation giving itself an unprecedented level of control at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
“‘The Minister has been growing uneasy about goings-on at Hogwarts for some time,’ said Junior Assistant to the Minister, Percy Weasley. ‘He is now responding to concerns voiced by anxious parents, who feel the school may be moving in a direction they do not approve.’
“This is not the first time in recent weeks Fudge has used new laws to effect improvements at the Wizarding school. As recently as August 30th Educational Decree Twenty-two was passed, to ensure that, in the event of the current headmaster being unable to provide a candidate for a teaching post, the Ministry should select an appropriate person.
“ ‘That’s how Dolores Umbridge came to be appointed to the teaching staff at Hogwarts,’ said Weasley last night. ‘Dumbledore couldn’t find anyone, so the Minister put in Umbridge and of course, she’s been an immediate success —’ ”
“She’s been a WHAT?” said Fred loudly.
"Once I get my hold on that slimy git of a brother-" George began.
“Wait, there’s more,” said Emma grimly.
“‘— an immediate success, totally revolutionizing the teaching of
Defense Against the Dark Arts and providing the Minister with on-the- ground feedback about what’s really happening at Hogwarts.’
“It is this last function that the Ministry has now formalized with the passing of Educational Decree Twenty-three, which creates the new position of ‘Hogwarts High Inquisitor.’
“‘This is an exciting new phase in the Minister’s plan to get to grips with what some are calling the “falling standards” at Hogwarts,’ said Weasley. ‘The Inquisitor will have powers to inspect her fellow educators and make sure that they are coming up to scratch. Professor Umbridge has been offered this position in addition to her own teaching post, and we are delighted to say that she has accepted.’
“The Ministry’s new moves have received enthusiastic support from parents of students at Hogwarts.
“ ‘I feel much easier in my mind now that I know that Dumbledore is being subjected to fair and objective evaluation,’ said Mr. Lucius Malfoy, 41, speaking from his Wiltshire mansion last night. ‘Many of us with our children’s best interests at heart have been concerned about some of Dumbledore’s eccentric decisions in the last few years and will be glad to know that the Ministry is keeping an eye on the situation.’"
"Geez, Em," George said. "You're Uncle is a right piece of work."
"Hush," Emma shushed, and continued reading.
“Among those ‘eccentric decisions’ are undoubtedly the controversial staff appointments previously described in this newspaper, which have included the hiring of werewolf Remus Lupin, half giant Rubeus Hagrid, and delusional ex-Auror ‘Mad-Eye’ Moody.
“Rumors abound, of course, that Albus Dumbledore, once Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards and Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, is no longer up to the task of managing the prestigious school of Hogwarts.
“ ‘I think the appointment of the Inquisitor is a first step toward ensuring that Hogwarts has a headmaster in whom we can all repose confidence,’ said a Ministry insider last night.
“Wizengamot elders Griselda Marchbanks and Tiberius Ogden have resigned in protest at the introduction of the post of Inquisitor to Hogwarts. “ ‘Hogwarts is a school, not an outpost of Cornelius Fudge’s office,’ said Madam Marchbanks. ‘This is a further disgusting attempt to discredit Albus Dumbledore.’ (For a full account of Madam Marchbanks’ alleged links to subversive goblin groups, turn to page 17).”
Emma finished reading and sat down her paper.
"Well," said Geroge, "Three cheers for Marchbanks."
“So now we know how we ended up with Umbridge! Fudge passed this ‘Educational Decree’ and forced her on us! And now he’s given her the power to inspect other teachers!” Emma was breathing fast and her eyes were very bright. “I can’t believe this. It’s outrageous!”
“I know it is. I wonder if I could send the Minister some 'treats'?" Fred smiled darkly.
Emma had the horrid feeling he was referring to his and George's Fever Fudge.
"Save it for another day, Satan," she said.
[/fancypost]

[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 360px; font-family: bell MT; font-size: 12px;][justify][color=#363636]
[color=#363636]Emma awoke before dawn and tried to go back to sleep, but with no avail. She tossed and turned, continually falling into a sort of half sleep and dreaming that a swarm of doxies were chasing her through the village of Ottery St. Catchpole. Finally, Emma gave up on sleep and walked down to the Common Room.
To her surprise, Fred and George were already up. They were both standing by the Gryffindor notice board, being unusually silent. Emma walked up to them and saw that a large sign had been affixed to the Gryffindor notice board, so large that it covered everything else on there - the lists of second-hand spellbooks for sale, the regular reminders of school rules from Argus Filch, the Quidditch team training schedule (Emma would have to place that back on top again later), the offers to barter certain Chocolate Frog cards for others, the twins’ new advertisement for testers, the dates of the Hogsmeade weekends, and the lost-and-found notices. The new sign was printed in large black letters and there was a highly official-looking seal at the bottom beside a neat and curly signature.

[b]All Student Organizations, Societies, Teams, Groups, and Clubs are henceforth disbanded.
An Organization, Society, Team, Group, or Club is hereby defined as a regular meeting of three or more students.
Permission to re-form may be sought from the High Inquisitor (Professor Umbridge).
No Student Organization, Society, Team, Group, or Club may exist without the knowledge and approval of the High Inquisitor.
Any student found to have formed, or to belong to, an Organization, Society, Team, Group, or Club that has not been approved by the High Inquisitor will be expelled.

The above is in accordance with
Educational Decree Number Twenty-four.

Signed:

Dolores Jane Umbrudge

HIGH INQUISITOR

“Oh no,” Emma sighed.
Fred and George jumped and spun around.
“Emma!” George yelled.
“When did you get down here?” Fred asked.
“Geez, sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” Emma said. “But did you read all that?”
“It can’t be a coincidence,” Fred said. “She knows.”
“She can’t,” said Emma at once.
“There were people listening in that pub. And let’s face it, we don’t know how many of the people who turned up we can trust. Any of them could have run off and told Umbridge,” said George.
“Zacharias Smith!” said Fred at once, punching a fist into his hand.
“He can’t have done,” said Hermione’s voice behind them. This time, Emma jumped with Fred and George. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Robin were standing behind them. 

“God,” Fred moaned, “people need to stop doing that!”
Ron ignored him. “You’re so naive,” he said to Hermione, “you think just because you’re all honorable and trustworthy —”
“No, they can’t have done because I put a jinx on that piece of parchment we all signed,” said Hermione grimly. “Believe me, if anyone’s run off and told Umbridge, we’ll know exactly who they are and they will really regret it.”
“What’ll happen to them?” said George eagerly.
“Well, put it this way,” said Hermione, “it’ll make Eloise Midgen’s acne look like a couple of cute freckles.”
“What are we going to do?” 
Robin asked, looking at Harry.
“We’re going to do it anyway, of course,” he said quietly.
“Knew you’d say that,” said George, beaming and thumping Harry on the arm.
“The prefects as well?” said Fred, looking quizzically at Emma, Ron, and Hermione.
“Of course,” said Hermione coolly.
Emma straightened up so fast she thought her spine would snap. “Oh my God. Oh my God.”
“What?” George asked. “Are you okay?”
“You realize she’s including Quidditch in this, don’t you?” Emma said. “We have to go and ask permission to reform the Gryffindor team!”
“What?” said Harry.
“No way,” said Ron, appalled.

“You read the sign, it mentions teams too!” Emma was on the verge of tears. “I can’t believe this…”
“It’ll be okay, Emma,” Robin assured her. “I’m sure the Quidditch teams will be reformed.
“They had better be,” Emma said.

[hr]

The first half of the day was a slow torture for Emma. The seventh year Gryffindors’ first class of the day was Charms, which ended in Emma singeing George’s eyebrows off (much to Fred and Lee’s amusement) as she stared distractedly at the rain outside the window. Emma was assigned extra practice to do that night, something that had never happened to her (though had happened to Fred and George almost daily). She had a free period after that, and spent it halfheartedly discussing Fred and George’s new planned addition to the Skiving Snackboxes: Nosebleed Nougat. Before she knew what had happened, she had agreed to test it, and would have bled herself half to death if Hermione had not come to the rescue and stopped the bleeding, giving the still laughing twins a dark look as she did so.
After lunch, Transfiguration finally began. By the end of class, Emma had managed to transfigure her moldy bread into a slightly less moldy version of its original self.
After the rest of the class had filed out, Emma approached Professor McGonagall.
“Professor?” Emma asked.
“Yes, Miss Lestrange?” McGonagall replied. “I’m assuming you’re wondering if you can reform the Gryffindor Quidditch Team?”
Emma nodded.
“I’ve already tried,” said Professor McGonagall, “and Professor Umbridge said she’d have to ‘think about it.’ ”
“What?” cried Fred from the back of the room, where he and George were “waiting” for Emma (they were actually eavesdropping, of course.)
“I will try to appeal to Professor Dumbledore after my next class,” Professor McGonagall assured them. “I’ll get back to you during your afternoon break, so if you don’t mind, just wait outside Professor Dumbledore’s office. And,” she added after a glance at the twins, “you might as well bring these two along with you.”
Emma nodded and left the room, Fred and George on either side.
“Can you believe the nerve of that woman?” Fred snarled.
“Who, McGonagall?” Emma asked. “It isn’t her fault, she-”
“No, I meant Umbridge. She reformed the Slytherin team right away!”
Emma stopped in her tracks. “She – did – what?”
Fred inhaled deeply; clearly he hadn’t thought through how Emma would react. “Well, the Slytherins asked Umbridge this morning, and she said yes…”
“UGH!” Emma shrieked. “How can she do this?”
“I don’t know,” said George, sounding miserable. “I don’t know…”

Later that day, the rain was pouring down so hard onto the castle grounds that the students were allowed to stay inside during their break. Emma, Fred, and George sat on the floor outside Dumbledore’s office, waiting to hear about Quidditch. Dumbledore had summoned Professor Umbridge to his office after Professor McGonagall had appealed; so hopefully the combined efforts of McGonagall and Dumbledore would be enough to convince Umbridge to let Emma reform the team.
After around fifteen minutes of Emma staring blankly at the Potions essay she was supposed to be writing, the stone griffin moved, revealing the winding staircase up to the Headmaster’s office. Professor McGonagall was standing on the steps looking slightly flustered, while Umbridge was right beside her looking absolutely furious. Emma took that as a good sign, and jumped up at once.
“Professor! Are we able to-”
“You can reform your team,” Umbridge said in her sweetest (and most dangerous) voice. “For now.”
As soon as the stairs stopped moving, Umbridge stepped out and strutted down the hall.
Professor McGonagall sighed. “Well, at least we have the team back,” she said. “Now, run along back to your break, it’s nearly over, and I expect you’ll want to tell the rest of Gryffindor that their Quidditch team will be reformed.”
Emma nodded, thanked Professor McGonagall, and together she, Fred, and George ran back down to the classroom serving as their temporary break room.
“Harry!” she called as she neared the room. “Ron!”
“Emma slow down!” George shouted breathlessly.
Emma skidded to a halt in front of the door and barged in. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Robin were waiting for her.
“We heard you yelling,” Robin said as soon as Emma and the twins were safely in the break room. “What’s up?”
“We can reform the Quidditch Team!” Emma said.
“Really?” said Harry. “That’s great!”
“McGonagall had to appeal to Dumbledore,” Fred complained. “Of course, Umbridge let the Slytherins reform right away.”
“Anyway,” said Emma, “our first match is next Saturday; do you have any idea how much practice time we’ve lost? Practices are going to have to be every day now, I expect… oh… I suppose I’ll have to leave one day free for the D.A.D.A. meetings…”
“Speaking of,” said Harry, “Our first one is tomorrow night.”
“Great!” Emma grinned. “That gives us time for practice tonight! Meet us at the pitch at seven?”

[hr]

“C’mon, Emma, we’re going to be late!” George called over his shoulder.
“Coming!” Emma yelled back as she tugged on her right shoe. Her bright Gryffindor tie hung loosely around her neck; she was so looking forward to tying it while running. She had been working on her Potions essay just moments before and had lost track of the time, and, of course, Fred and George had been counting on her to know when it was time to leave for their first D.A.D.A. meeting, seeing as they never bothered themselves with responisbility.
Emma managed to look only slightly disheveled by the time she arrived at the tapestry on the seventh floor that Harry had told her to meet them at. After a moment of wondering where everyone else was, a large, ornate metal door formed into the wall.
“The Room of Requirement!” said Fred and George together.
“The what?” asked Emma.
“Blimey,” Fred said, “Sometimes I forget how innocent you are.”
“It’s a hidden room,” George explained. “It appears as whatever room you need.”
“Brilliant!” Emma exclaimed.
She pushed open the door and walked in. Most of the D.A. were already there, lounging on pillows or, in the case of Luna Lovegood, perching precautiously on a stack of suspiciously sinister looking books. Hermione had her nose deep in a book titled Jinxes for the Jinxed, Robin was deep in discussion with Ginny Weasley and Michael Corner, and Harry and Ron were finishing tidying up the bookshelves. Many of the other students were looking around the room; Emma copied them, taking in the stone walls and tables laden with strange silver instruments not unlike the ones in Dumbledore’s Office.
Emma and the twins were, to her surprise, not the last ones there. Cho Chang and her friend, Marietta Edgecombe, came in as she was sitting down, and Zacharias Smith came in a moment later.
As soon as everyone was situated, Harry cleared his throat. “Er, hi. So, clearly you all found the place.”
“Yeah, about that,” Dean asked. “What exactly is this place?”
“The Room of Requirement,” Robin answered, who had moved over to sit by Hermione. “It takes the form of whatever you need.”
“So say you really needed a toilet,” Ernie MacMillan said, causing a chorus of laughter from the crowd and a sour look from Marietta.
“Yes, that is the idea,” Hermione said.
“Alright,” Harry began. “Let’s start with…” his voice died down as he saw Hermione waving her hand frantically in the air. “Er, yeah, Hermione?”
“I think we should come up with a name,” she said eagerly.
“Yeah!” Robin said. “That’ll make it seem more official.”
“Good idea,” Harry said. “Any ideas?’
“Can we be the Anti-Umbridge League?” said Angelina hopefully.
“Or the Ministry of Magic Are Morons Group?” suggested Fred.
“I was thinking,” said Hermione, frowning at Fred, “more of a name that didn’t tell everyone what we were up to, so we can refer to it safely outside meetings.”
“The Defense Association?” said Cho. “The D.A. for short, so nobody knows what we’re talking about?”
“Yeah, the D.A.’s good,” said Ginny. “Only let’s make it stand for Dumbledore’s Army because that’s the Ministry’s worst fear, isn’t it?” There was a good deal of appreciative murmuring and laughter at this.
“All in favor of the D.A.?” said Hermione bossily, kneeling up on her cushion to count. “That’s a majority — motion passed!”
She pinned the piece of paper with all of their names on it on the wall and wrote DUMBLEDORE’S ARMY across the top in large letters.
“Anyway,” said Harry, “we don’t have a set day for meetings, because as I’m sure you all know, clubs have been disbanded, so it’ll be too easy for Umbridge to catch us if we meet at the same time every week. Plus, some of us have other activities, like Quidditch-”
“Hear hear,” Emma called, Fred and George whooping in agreement.
“Yes,” said Cho, glaring at the three of them. “I think Harry got his point across.”
Emma glared back at her, but she noticed Harry blush a little. Fred must have too, for he muttered “weakling” under his breath, warranting a snort from George.
“As I was saying,” Harry said, slightly rushed now, “our meetings are going to be irregular. So, Hermione charmed some Galleons, and they’ll say the date and time of the next meeting on the sides… oh, it’ll be easier to explain once you’ve all got one to look at, here…” he and Hermione began passing out the Galleons. As soon as Emma received hers she examined it; it looked exactly like a normal Galleon.
“Okay,” Hermione said once everyone had one of the coins. “You see the numerals around the edge of the coins?”
Emma turned her coin so that the edge faced her.
“On real Galleons that’s just a serial number referring to the goblin who cast the coin,” Hermione continued. “On these fake coins, though, the numbers will change to reflect the time and date of the next meeting. The coins will grow hot when the date changes, so if you’re carrying them in a pocket you’ll be able to feel them. When Harry sets the date of the next meeting he’ll change the numbers on his coin, and because I’ve put a Protean Charm on them, they’ll all change to mimic his.”
“Awesome,” Robin said. Emma couldn’t help but notice that Ron, who was standing next to her, looked a bit disappointed. He probably thought the coins were real gold, Emma thought with a smile.
“Alright,” said Harry. “So, first we’re going to be working on Expelliarmus you know, the Disarming Charm. I know it’s pretty basic but I’ve found it really useful -”
“Oh please,” said Zacharias Smith, rolling his eyes and folding his arms. “I don’t think Expelliarmus is exactly going to help us against You-Know-Who, do you?”
“I’ve used it against him,” said Harry quietly. “It saved my life last June.”
Smith opened his mouth stupidly. The rest of the room was very quiet.
“But if you think it’s beneath you, you can leave,” Harry said. Smith did not move. Nor did anybody else.
“Right,” said Harry. “So, let’s partner up…”
Fred and George were together, naturally, and Angelina partnered with Katie, so Emma went to find Robin. “Do you want to go first?” Emma asked. Robin nodded.
“On my count,” Harry called over the din. “One, two, three!” Robin flicked her wand and shouted “Expelliarmus! Emma’s wand went flying through the air; Robin caught it in her free hand.
Clearly, it was good Harry started with the basics; many people were not doing nearly as well as Robin had done. Luna’s partner, Justin Flinch-Fletchley, was watching open-mouthed as his wand floated above his head. Ginny was teamed with Michael Corner; she was doing very well, whereas Michael was either very bad or unwilling to jinx her. The Creevey brothers were enthusiastic but erratic and mainly responsible for all the books leaping off the shelves around them.
“Oh Lord,” Robin said beside her. Emma looked in the direction of her gaze and saw that something very odd was happening to Zacharias Smith; every time he opened his mouth to disarm Anthony Goldstein, his own wand would fly out of his hand, yet Anthony did not seem to be making a sound. Emma did not have to look far for the solution of the mystery, however; Fred and George were several feet from Smith and taking it in turns to point their wands at his back.
Emma laughed as Harry strode up to them, Fred and George unaware that they had been caught in the act.
“Sorry, Harry,” said George hastily, when Harry caught his eye. “Couldn’t resist . . .”
Emma laughed again as Harry cleared his throat. “That wasn’t bad,” he said, “but there’s definite room for improvement. We’re out of time for tonight, though, but keep checking your Galleons for the next meeting.”
The D.A. left in groups of two or three at a time so as to not bring attention to themselves. Emma, Fred, and George were the fourth group to leave, and, after a quick stop in the Hogwarts kitchens (with Emma keeping watch nearby trying not to fret too hard of her neglect of her Prefect duties), they retired to Gryffindor Tower for the night.

[hr]

The morning of the first Quidditch match arrived soon after the first D.A. meeting; much too soon for Emma’s liking.
“We’re not ready,” she kept murmuring to herself as she heading down from the girl’s dormitories to the Common Room.
“Oh, yes we are,” George said after Emma had repeated herself twelve times. “The team’s never been better!”
“Well, Oliver was a better Keeper than Ron…” Fred said.
“Speaking of Oliver, how are you two doing?” George asked Emma.
“Hm?” she looked up; she hadn’t been paying any attention to the conversation.
“I said,” George repeated, “how are you two doing?”
“You two?” Emma asked quizzically. “Who’s the other person?”
“Oliver!” Fred said, exasperated. “You know, your boyfriend?”
“Oliver? Oh, we broke up weeks ago.”
George slopped the pumpkin juice he had been drinking down the front of his sweater. “What?”
“Yeah, I didn’t tell you? I suppose we’ve been so busy lately, I must have forgotten… hm.” Emma’s thoughts returned to the day’s match: Gryffindor versus Slytherin.
“Why’d you guys end it?” Fred asked.
“Who ended it?”
“And when, exactly?”
Emma didn’t respond.
“She in her ‘Quidditch Mood’ again?” Robin said, sitting down on the couch across from the trio.
The twins nodded. “That, and she broke up with Oliver Wood.”
“What?” Robin stared at Emma. “When?”
“Don’t even bother asking,” George moaned. “It’s hopeless.”

Emma and the rest of the team headed down to the pitch just after breakfast to change into their robes (Ron attempted to do his up back-to-front for several minutes before Emma took pity on him and went to help) and then sat down to listen to the pre-match talk while the babble of voices outside grew steadily louder as the crowd came pouring out of the castle toward the pitch.
Emma left her team behind and went into the Captain’s Office to get the piece of parchment Madam Hooch had left her that listed Slytherin’s team. “Okay, I’ve only just found out the final lineup for Slytherin,” she said, consulting the piece of parchment as she returned to her team. “Last year’s Beaters, Derrick and Bole, have left now, but it looks as though Montague’s replaced them with the usual gorillas, rather than anyone who can fly particularly well. They’re two blokes called Crabbe and Goyle, I don’t know much about them -”
“We do,” said Harry and Ron together.
“Well, they don’t look bright enough to tell one end of a broom from another,” said Emma, pocketing her parchment, “but then I was always surprised Derrick and Bole managed to find their way onto the pitch without signposts.”
“Crabbe and Goyle are in the same mold,” Harry assured her.
They could hear hundreds of footsteps mounting the banked benches of the spectators’ stands now. Some people were singing, though Emma could not make out the words. She was starting to feel even more nervous; it was her first match as Captain, she had to do well.
“It’s time,” said Emma in a hushed voice, looking at her watch. “C’mon everyone . . . good luck.”
The team rose, shouldered their brooms, and marched in single file out of the changing room and into the dazzling sunlight. A roar of sound greeted them in which Emma could still hear singing, though it was muffled by the cheers and whistles.
The Slytherin team was standing waiting for them. They were wearing some strange silver crown-shaped badges, Emma noticed. The new captain, Montague, was a seventh year whom Emma had known (and disliked) since the beginning of their Hogwarts careers. Behind him lurked the two new Beaters who had to be Crabbe and Goyle. They were almost as large as Montague; blinking stupidly in the sunlight, swinging their new Beaters’ bats. Draco stood to one side, the sunlight gleaming on his white-blond head. He caught Emma’s eye and looked away quickly.
“Captains shake hands,” ordered Madam Hooch, as Emma and Montague reached each other. Montague was trying to crush Emma’s fingers, though she tried not to wince. “Mount your brooms. . . .”
Madam Hooch placed her whistle in her mouth and blew.
The balls were released and the fourteen players shot upward; out of the corner of her eye Emma saw Ron streak off toward the goal hoops and Harry soar up further still to look for the Snitch. Shee zoomed higher, dodging a Bludger, and set off after Montague, who had caught the Quaffle.
“And it’s Montague, Montague with the Quaffle- no, now it’s Lestrange, she’s swooped in after it - what a player that girl is, I’ve been saying it for years but she still won’t go out with me -”
“JORDAN!” yelled Professor McGonagall.
“Just a fun fact, Professor, adds a bit of interest-” Emma laughed; Lee had never asked her out.
“-and she’s ducked Warrington, she’s passed Montague, she’s - ouch - been hit from behind by a Bludger from Crabbe. . . .” And indeed she had; Emma missed the next few moments of narration due to the loud ringing in her ears.
“Montague catches the Quaffle,” she heard once she had regained her hearing, “Montague heading back up the pitch and - nice Bludger there from George Weasley, that’s a Bludger to the head for Montague, he drops the Quaffle, caught by Katie Bell, Katie Bell of Gryffindor reverse passes to Angelina Johnson and Johnson’s away - dodges Warrington, avoids a Bludger - close call, Angelina - and the crowd are loving this, just listen to them, what’s that they’re singing?”
And as Lee paused to listen the song rose loud and clear from the sea of green and silver in the Slytherin section of the stands:

“- and Johnson passes back to Lestrange!” Lee shouted, and as Emma streaked toward the goals, Quaffle under her arm, her insides boiling at what she had just heard, she knew Lee was trying to drown out the sound of the singing. “Come on now, Emma - looks like she’s got just the Keeper to beat! - SHE SHOOTS - SHE - aaaah . . .”
Bletchley, the Slytherin Keeper, had saved the goal; he threw the Quaffle to Warrington who sped off with it, zigzagging in between Angelina and Katie, leaving Emma cursing behind him; the singing from below grew louder and louder as he drew nearer and nearer Ron –

Emma could not help herself: Abandoning her pursuit of the Quaffle which was now at the other side of the pitch, she turned her Firebolt toward Ron, a lone figure at the far end of the pitch, hovering before the three goal hoops while the massive Warrington pelted toward him . . .
“- and it’s Warrington with the Quaffle, Warrington heading for goal, he’s out of Bludger range with just the Keeper ahead -”
A great swell of song rose from the Slytherin stands below:

“- so it’s the first test for new Gryffindor Keeper, Weasley, brother of Beaters, Fred and George, and a promising new talent on the team - come on, Ron!”
But the scream of delight came from the Slytherin end: Ron had dived wildly, his arms wide, and the Quaffle had soared between them, straight through Ron’s central hoop.
“Slytherin score!” came Lee’s voice amid the cheering and booing from the crowds below. “So that’s ten-nil to Slytherin - bad luck, Ron . . .”
Emma swore as the Slytherins sang even louder:

“- and Gryffindor back in possession and it’s Katie Bell tanking up the pitch -” cried Lee valiantly, though the singing was now so deafening that he could hardly make himself heard above it.

“Harry, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” screamed Emma, who had just noticed him hovering above the pitch watching the game instead of actually playing in it. “GET GOING!”
Emma sped toward the Slytherin end of the pitch, trying to ignore the chorus now thundering through the stadium:

“- and it’s Warrington again,” bellowed Lee, “who passes to Pucey, Pucey’s off past Bell, come on now Katie, you can take him - turns out you can’t - but nice Bludger from Fred Weasley, I mean, George Weasley, oh who cares, one of them anyway, and Warrington drops the Quaffle and Angelina Johnson - er - drops it too - so that’s Montague with the Quaffle, Slytherin Captain Montague takes the Quaffle, and he’s off up the pitch, come on now Gryffindor, block him!”
Emma sped off after Montague, willing himself not to look at what was going on at Ron’s end; hard as it was not to seeing as she was flying toward it. Montague’s voice flowed back to her, singing along with the crowd below,

“- and Pucey’s dodged Bell again, and he’s heading straight for goal, stop it, Ron!”
Emma did not have to look to see what had happened: There was a terrible groan from the Gryffindor end, coupled with fresh screams and applause from the Slytherins. Looking down, Emma saw the pug-faced Pansy Parkinson right at the front of the stands, her back to the pitch as she conducted the Slytherin supporters who were roaring:

“RON!” Emma yelled, flying toward him. He looked like he was going to puke. “Don’t listen to them, Ron, come on, you can do it…”
But Ron let in two more goals. There was an edge of panic now, if only Harry could just get the Snitch soon and finish the game quickly . . .
“- and Katie Bell of Gryffindor dodges Pucey, ducks Montague, nice swerve, Katie, and she throws to Lestrange, Emma Lestrange takes the Quaffle, she’s past Warrington, she’s heading for goal, come on now Emma - GRYFFINDOR SCORE! It’s forty-ten, forty-ten to Slytherin and Pucey has the Quaffle. . . .”
Emma ducked a Bludger that either Crabbe or Goyle had sent rocketing in her direction and resumed her frantic chasing of the Quaffle, keeping one eye on Ron as she flew.
“- Pucey throws to Warrington, Warrington to Montague, Montague back to Pucey -Johnson intervenes, Johnson takes the Quaffle, Johnson to Lestrange, this looks good - I mean bad - Emma’s hit by a Bludger from Goyle of Slytherin and it’s Pucey in possession again . . .”
Emma’s head rang again as she stopped to catch her breath; the Slytherin’s song was floating into her ears again…

Then Emma saw it: the Golden Snitch, and Harry was chasing after it, Draco right behind him… the Snitch skirted the foot of one of the goal hoops and scooted off toward the other side of the stands; its change of direction suited Draco, who was nearer. Harry pulled his Firebolt around, he and Malfoy were now neck and neck . . .
Feet from the ground, Harry lifted his right hand from his broom, stretching toward the Snitch . . . to his right, Malfoy’s arm extended too, reaching, groping . . .
“Come on,” Emma shouted. “COME ON!”
It was over in two breathless, desperate, windswept seconds - Harry’s fingers closed around the tiny, struggling ball - Draco’s fingernails scrabbled the back of Harry’s hand hopelessly - Harry pulled his broom upward, holding the struggling ball in his hand and the Gryffindor spectators screamed their approval. . . .
Emma breathed a sigh of relief. They were saved, it did not matter that Ron had let in those goals, nobody would remember as long as Gryffindor had won.
WHAM !
Emma looked back around; A Bludger hit Harry squarely in the small of the back and he flew forward off his broom; luckily he was only five or six feet above the ground, having dived so low to catch the Snitch, but he seemed to be winded all the same as he landed flat on his back on the frozen pitch. Emma heard Madam Hooch’s shrill whistle, an uproar in the stands compounded of catcalls, and angry yells as well as jeering.
“Are you all right?” Emma asked, landing beside him.
“ ’Course I am,” said Harry grimly, taking her hand and allowing her to pull him to his feet. Madam Hooch was zooming toward one of the Slytherin players above them, and though Emma could not see who it was at this angle, she had a hunch.
“It was Crabbe,” said Emma angrily. “He whacked the Bludger at you the moment he saw you’d got the Snitch - but we won, Harry, we won!”
Emma heard a snort from behind them and turned around; Draco Malfoy had landed close by; white-faced with fury, he was still managing to sneer.
“Saved Weasley’s neck, haven’t you?” he said to Harry, completely ignoring Emma altogether. “I’ve never seen a worse Keeper . . . but then he was born in a bin. . . Did you like my lyrics, Potter?”
Emma was relieved that Harry did not answer; she turned away to meet the rest of the team who were now landing one by one, yelling and punching the air in triumph, all except Ron, who had dismounted from his broom over by the goalposts and was making his way slowly back to the changing rooms alone.
“We wanted to write another couple of verses!” Draco called, as Katie and Angelina hugged Emma. “But we couldn’t find rhymes for fat and ugly - we wanted to sing about his mother, see -”
“Talk about sore losers,” said Angelina, casting Draco a disgusted look.
“- we couldn’t fit in useless loser either - for his father, you know -”
Fred and George had realized what Draco was talking about. Halfway through shaking Harry’s hand they stiffened, looking around at Draco.
“Leave it,” said Emma at once, taking Fred by the arm. “Leave it, Fred, let him yell, he’s just sore he lost, the slimy little -”
“- but you like the Weasleys, don’t you, Potter?” said Draco, sneering. “Spend holidays there and everything, don’t you? Can’t see how you stand the stink, but I suppose when you’ve been dragged up by Muggles even the Weasleys’ hovel smells okay -”
At this Harry grabbed hold of George; meanwhile it was taking all of Emma’s strength to keep Fred leaping on Draco, who was laughing openly. Emma looked around for Madam Hooch, but she was still berating Crabbe for his illegal Bludger attack.
“Or perhaps,” said Draco, leering as he backed away, “you can remember what your mother’s house stank like, Potter, and Weasley’s pigsty reminds you of it -”
Emma looked over at Harry and saw, with a shock, that he had released George, and a second later both of them were sprinting at Draco. They must have completely forgotten the fact that all the teachers were watching. Harry drew back his fist, still clutching the struggling Snitch, and sank it hard into Draco’s stomach, George doing the same.
“Harry! HARRY! GEORGE! NO!” Emma was screaming, so were Angelina and Katie, who were now helping her hold Fred back.
All Emma could hear was her, Angelina, and Katie’s shrieks, Draco yelling, George swearing, a whistle blowing, and the bellowing of the crowd around her. Madam Hooch, finally realizing what was going on, raised her wand and shouted “IMPEDIMENTA!” causing Harry and George to fall to the ground.
“What do you think you’re doing?” screamed Madam Hooch, as Harry and George leapt to their feet again. Madam Hooch was holding her whistle in one hand and a wand in the other, her broom lay abandoned several feet away. Draco was curled up on the ground, whimpering and moaning, his nose bloody; George was sporting a swollen lip; Emma and her fellow Chasers were still restraining Fred, and Crabbe was cackling in the background. “I’ve never seen behavior like it - back up to the castle, both of you, and straight to your Head of House’s office! Go! Now! And Emma, as their Captain, you’d better go as well!”
Emma’s stomach dropped. Numbly, she followed Harry and George off the pitch. They were both panting, neither saying a word to each other. The howling and jeering of the crowd grew fainter and fainter until they reached the entrance hall, where they could hear nothing except the sound of their own footsteps. George tried to slow to match Emma’s pace, but as soon as he did she sped up; she couldn’t even bear to look at him.
They had barely reached the door of Professor McGonagall’s office when she came marching along the corridor behind them. She was wearing a Gryffindor scarf, but tore it from her throat with shaking hands as she strode toward them, looking livid.
“In!” she said furiously, pointing to the door. The three of them entered. She strode around behind her desk and faced them, quivering with rage as she threw the Gryffindor scarf aside onto the floor.
“Well ?” she said. “I have never seen such a disgraceful exhibition. Two onto one! Explain yourselves!”
“Malfoy provoked us,” said Harry stiffly.
“Provoked you?” shouted Professor McGonagall, slamming a fist onto her desk. “He’d just lost, hadn’t he, of course he wanted to provoke you! But what on earth he can have said that justified what you two -”
“He insulted my parents,” snarled George. “And Harry’s mother.”
“But instead of leaving it to Madam Hooch to sort out, you two decided to give an exhibition of Muggle dueling, did you?” bellowed Professor McGonagall. “Have you any idea what you’ve-?”
“Hem, hem.”
Emma, George and Harry all spun around. Dolores Umbridge was standing in the doorway, smiling sickly.
“May I help, Professor McGonagall?” asked Professor Umbridge in her most poisonously sweet voice.
Blood rushed into Professor McGonagall’s face.
“Help?” she repeated in a constricted voice. “What do you mean, ‘help’?”
Professor Umbridge moved forward into the office, still smiling her sickly smile.
“Why, I thought you might be grateful for a little extra authority.”
Emma would not have been surprised to see sparks fly from Professor McGonagall’s nostrils.
“You thought wrong,” she said, turning her back on Umbridge. “Now, you two had better listen closely. I do not care what provocation Malfoy offered you, I do not care if he insulted every family member you possess, your behavior was disgusting and I am giving each of you a week’s worth of detention! Do not look at me like that, Potter, you deserve it! And if either of you ever -”
“Hem, hem.”
Professor McGonagall closed her eyes as though praying for patience as she turned her face toward Professor Umbridge again.
“Yes?”
“I think they deserve rather more than detentions,” said Umbridge, smiling still more broadly.
Professor McGonagall’s eyes flew open. “But unfortunately,” she said, with an attempt at a reciprocal smile that made her look as though she had lockjaw, “it is what I think that counts, as they are in my House, Dolores.”
“Well, actually, Minerva,” simpered Umbridge, “I think you’ll find that what I think does count. Now, where is it? Cornelius just sent it. . . . I mean,” she gave a little false laugh as she rummaged in her handbag, “the Minister just sent it. . . . Ah yes . . .”
She had pulled out a piece of parchment that she now unfurled, clearing her throat fussily before starting to read what it said.
“Hem, hem. . . ‘Educational Decree Number Twenty-five . . .’ ”
“Not another one!” exclaimed Professor McGonagall violently.
“Well, yes,” said Umbridge, still smiling. “As a matter of fact, Minerva, it was you who made me see that we needed a further amendment. . . . You remember how you overrode me, when I was unwilling to allow the Gryffindor Quidditch team to re-form? How you took the case to Dumbledore, who insisted that the team be allowed to play? Well, now, I couldn’t have that. I contacted the Minister at once, and he quite agreed with me that the High Inquisitor has to have the power to strip pupils of privileges, or she - that is to say, I - would have less authority than common teachers! And you see now, don’t you, Minerva, how right I was in attempting to stop the Gryffindor team re-forming? Dreadful tempers . . . Anyway, I was reading out our amendment . . . hem, hem . . . ‘The High Inquisitor will henceforth have supreme authority over all punishments, sanctions, and removal of privileges pertaining to the students of Hogwarts, and the power to alter such punishments, sanctions, and removals of privileges as may have been ordered by other staff members. Signed, Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic, Order of Merlin First Class, etc., etc. . . .’ ”
She rolled up the parchment and put it back into her handbag, still smiling.
“So . . . I really think I will have to ban these two from playing Quidditch ever again,” she said, looking from Harry to George and back again.
Emma stared at her in shock.
“Ban us?” Harry said, beside her. “From playing . . . ever again?”
“Yes, Mr. Potter, I think a lifelong ban ought to do the trick,” said Umbridge, her smile widening still further as she watched him struggle to comprehend what she had said. “You and Mr. Weasley here. And I think, to be safe, this young man’s twin ought to be stopped too - if his teammates had not restrained him, I feel sure he would have attacked young Mr. Malfoy as well. I’m wondering if I should ban you too, Miss Lestrange, for allowing your team memebers to behave in such a way… hm… ah, well, you did hold back the other Mr. Weasley, so I will allow you to continue to play. I will want their broomsticks confiscated, of course; I shall keep them safely in my office, to make sure there is no infringement of my ban. But I am not unreasonable, Professor McGonagall,” she continued, turning back to Professor McGonagall who was now standing as still as though carved from ice, staring at her. “The rest of the team can continue playing, I saw no signs of violence from any of them. Well . . . good afternoon to you.” And with a look of the utmost satisfaction Umbridge left the room, leaving a horrified silence in her wake.
“Banned,” said Emma in a hollow voice, late that evening in the common room. “Banned. No Seeker and no Beaters . . . What on earth are we going to do?”
It did not feel as though they had won the match at all. Everywhere Emma looked there were disconsolate and angry faces; the team themselves were slumped around the fire, all apart from Ron, who had not been seen since the end of the match.
“It’s just so unfair,” said Angelina numbly. “I mean, what about Crabbe and that Bludger he hit after the whistle had been blown? Has she banned him?”
“No,” said Ginny miserably; she and Robin were sitting on either side of Emma. “He just got lines, I heard Montague laughing about it at dinner.”
“And banning Fred when he didn’t even do anything!” said Katie furiously, pummeling her knee with her fist.
“It’s not my fault I didn’t,” said Fred, with a very ugly look on his face. “I would’ve pounded the little scumbag to a pulp if you three hadn’t been holding me back.”
Emma stared miserably at the dark window. Snow was falling. The Snitch Harry had caught earlier was now zooming around and around the common room; people were watching its progress as though hypnotized and Crookshanks was leaping from chair to chair, trying to catch it.
“I’m going to bed,” said Emma, getting slowly to her feet. “Maybe this will all turn out to have been a bad dream. . . . Maybe I’ll wake up tomorrow and find we haven’t played yet…”

[hr]

But, alas, when Emma awoke in the morning, she realized it had not been a dream, and Harry, Fred, and George were still banned from Quidditch. Going down into the Common Room she found the twins sitting on one of the sofas by the fire. Without a second glance at them, she made her way out of the portrait hole and down to the Great Hall for breakfast.
Taking a seat between Robin and Hermione, Emma spooned some porridge into a bowl before realizing she wasn’t hungry.
Not long after, Harry and Ron came down and sat across from the three girls. Without a word, Emma stood and stalked off. She had no clue where she was going; her feet carried her out of the Great Hall and through the front doors.
“Emma!”
Emma turned at the sound of her name. Robin was rushing toward her.
“Don’t you think you’re taking this too hard?” Robin said.
Emma didn’t answer, but instead turned away from the other girl and started walking again.
“Sorry,” Robin murmured, but Emma didn’t think she looked sorry.
The two of them stopped once they reached the lake. They sat down on the shore, and Robin pulled some chocolate frogs out of one of the pockets in her robes. Emma stared at the water of the lake. A chilly wind was rippling the edges; the water dark and cold and foreboding. Emma sat, entranced, for what was either a few seconds or several hours before she realized that Robin had been talking to her.
“Emma!” Robin shouted, but Emma pretended not to have heard her.
“Emma, what are you doing?”
The water looked so welcoming.
“What, can you not talk?”
She wondered what it would be like, to go in…
“Emma!”
… and feel the icy water fill her lungs…
“Oh for God’s sake,” Robin sighed. “What is it with you and Quidditch?”
Emma continued to stare at the lake water, turning around only when she heard someone clear their throat behind her.
Emma jumped and turned with a start; Robin did the same, and Emma knew that she was thinking the same thing Emma was…
But, fortunately, it was not Professor Umbridge, but instead Draco Malfoy. Emma glared at him long and hard. Sure, she was mad at Harry and the twins, but if Draco hadn’t been harassing them, they wouldn’t have been banned…
“Emma, I…” Draco flushed, looking at a point beside Emma. She turned and saw Robin still beside her; Draco must have just noticed her standing there. To her surprise, Robin too looked flushed.
“I’ll just um… I’ve got… er… homework…” Robin spun off, her face now as red as the scarf around her neck.
Draco cleared his throat. “I, uh…”
But whatever he had been planning on saying seemed to have left him. He was still watching Robin’s retreating figure.
The thoughts of yesterday’s match gone from her mind, Emma narrowed her eyes. “Um, is something going on?”
Draco jumped and faced Emma again, seemingly remembering that she was still there.
“No,” he retorted. He looked to be trying to decide whether he should leave or not; he kept starting forward on one foot and then slowly moving back to his original position.
“Oh my god…” Emma grinned. “Oh my God! You like her!”
Draco blinked. “What?”
“You like her! Like, in a romantic way!” Emma laughed; her voice seemed unnaturally shrill. “I can’t believe this!”
“What? No,” Draco denied, but the damage had been done.
Emma turned, still laughing, and started off toward the castle. “Wait till I tell Robin about this…”
[/fancypost]

[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 360px; font-family: bell MT; font-size: 12px;][justify]
[color=#363636]In years past, there were vampires in Skyrim.
Granted, there still are, not only in Skyrim but all across northern Tamriel. But the Volkihar Clan had been the biggest issue for the country, and they have long since learned to lie low. For years they had terrorized Skyrim, but their numbers eventually diminished and they disappeared. In the centuries that followed, Skyrim changed; glaciers formed and melted, forests grew and burned, dragons maimed. The Dragonborns came and sent Alduin and his fellows from Nirn, and the Volkihar were still nowhere to be found. Centuries passed; the tales of the dragons and their banes passed from history into legend, as did the children of Molag Bal.
But now that has changed.
The dragons are back, and so are the Children of Coldharbour. Skyrim has been plunged into chaos, and the Volkihar Clan are lead by a new leader, Lord Harkon. Harkon is working to fulfill a prophecy made by the Imperial Moth Priests; he plans on blocking out the sun.
Only one can stop him.
Who will it be? [/fancypost]

[img width=510 height=286]http://cloud-4.steampowered.co…D987B849261B5C32D7E34FDF/[/img]
[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 360px; font-family: bell MT; font-size: 12px;][justify][color=#363636]
[color=#363636]castle volkihar[/fancypost]

[img width=510 height=286]http://api.ning.com/files/Fd0H…eeR/10573101344058604.jpg[/img]
[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 360px; font-family: bell MT; font-size: 12px;][justify][color=#363636]
[color=#363636]fort dawnguard[/fancypost]

[img width=510 height=300]http://img3.wikia.nocookie.net…/8/83/DayspringCanyon.png[/img]
[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 360px; font-family: bell MT; font-size: 12px;][justify][color=#363636]
[color=#363636]dayspring canyon[/fancypost]

[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 360px; font-family: bell MT; font-size: 12px;][justify][color=#363636]
[color=#363636]and just because x

x map of skyrim
x map of tamriel
x map of nirn

theme x[/fancypost]
[youtube]T0gtYz_T_HE[/youtube]

[hr]

[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 360px; font-family: bell MT; font-size: 12px;][justify][color=#363636]
[color=#363636]Basic information x
x born in Whiterun, Skyrim, to the ancient faction of Gray-Mane.
x her father is Eorlund, the best blacksmith in all of Tamriel, and her mother is Fralia.
x Aryana is seventeen years of age.
x her older brother is Thorald, and she has two younger siblings, a second brother named Avulstein and a sister named Olfina.
x Thorald is eighteen and has been missing for several months, and the Gray-Manes believe the Battle-Borns had something to do with it.
x after Thorald went missing, Avulstein, who is sixteen, took to never leaving his room.
x Avulstein and Olfina are twins, and Olfina is a food vendor.
x Aryana and Thorald grew up spending time with Vilkas and Farkas, who lived at the Jorrvaskr.
x Aryana always got along best with Thorald; she still got along well with Avulstein, and did with Olfina until she began spending time with Jon Battle-Born.
x Aryana, like the rest of her family, has long silver hair (hence the name Gray-Mane).
x never got along with any of the Battle-Born, but particularly not Jon since he and Olfina are romantically involved.
x grew up around the Jorrvaskr, and she and Thorald have always been best friends with Vilkas and Farkas.
x has always wanted to join either the Companions or the Stormcloaks, but when she finally came of age at 16 the Volkihar Clan had begun attacking and there were scarcely any members of the Dawnguard, so she joined with them instead and moved out to Fort Dawnguard.
x Aryana is outspoken and generally hot-headed, just like the rest of her family.
x is skilled with short swords; preferred weapon is Dawnbreaker, though she has gotten good at using crossbows ever since joining the Dawnguard.

theme x
[youtube]ZSmXMMc28yw[/youtube]

vilkas x

[/fancypost]

[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 360px; font-family: bell MT; font-size: 12px;][justify]
[color=#363636]The world is changed; I feel it in the water, I feel it in the earth, I smell it in the air ... Much that once was is lost, for none now live who remember it.
It began with the forging of the Great Rings.
Three were given to the elves; immortal, wisest, fairs of all beings. Seven to the Dwarven Lords; great miners and craftsmen of the mountain halls. And nine... nine rings were gifted to the race of men, who above all desire power. For within these rings was bound the strength and the will to govern each race.
But they were all of them deceived, for another ring was made.
In the land of Mordor, in the fires of Mount Doom, the Dark Lord Sauron forged in secret a Master Ring to control all others. And into this Ring he poured his cruelty, his malice and his will to dominate all life.
One Ring to rule them all...
One by one the Free lands of Middle Earth fell to the power of the Ring. But there were some who resisted.
A last alliance of Men and Elves marched against the armies of Mordor. On the slopes of Mount Doom, they fought for the freedom of Middle-Earth. Victory was near.
It was in this moment, when all hope had faded, that Isildur, son of the king, took up his father's sword. Sauron, the enemy of the Free Peoples of Middle-Earth, was defeated.
The Ring passed to Isildur, who had this one chance to destroy evil forever.
But the hearts of Men are easily corrupted, and the Ring of Power has a will of its own. It betrayed Isildur to his death, and some things that should not have been forgotten were lost.
Thus a Third Age of Middle-Earth began. History became legend, legend became myth. And for two and a half thousand years, the Ring passed out of all knowledge.
Until, when chance came, it ensnared a new bearer...
The Ring came to the creature Gollum, who took it deep into the tunnels of the Misty Mountains. The Ring gave to him unnatural long life. For five hundred years it poisoned his mind. And in the gloom of
Gollum's cave, darkness crept back into the forests of the world. Rumor grew of a Shadow in the East ... whispers of a nameless fear. And the Ring of Power perceived its time had now come. It abandoned Gollum.
But something happened then the Ring did not intend...
It was picked up by the most unlikely creature imaginable - a Hobbit - Bilbo Baggins of the Shire. For the time will soon come when Hobbits will shape the fortunes of all.

[hr][/fancypost]

[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 360px; font-family: bell MT; font-size: 12px;][justify][color=#363636]
[color=#363636]Basic information x

x younger sister of Aragorn
x is 78 years old during the Fellowship
x once Aragorn is crowned king, Finna becomes the Lady of Gondor.
x rather shy and not very outspoken at first
x fights with a short sword
x is in love with Legolas Greenleaf, and he loves her, but he won't marry her because she will die so much sooner than him and he's afraid to loose her
x Aragorn went north to become a ranger when Finna was 30, and ever since then she's been living in Rohan with her friend Eowyn.

theme x

[youtube]Om_BKWttz18[/youtube]

legolas x

[/fancypost]

[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 360px; font-family: bell MT; font-size: 12px;][justify][color=#363636]
[color=#363636]"Hey, Newbie!"
Aryana lowered her crossbow and looked over her shoulder to see Isran, the head of the Dawnguard, walking toward her carrying what looked to be a roll of parchment in his hands.
"What?" she asked. She had long since given up on trying to convince Isran and the other senior members of the faction to stop calling her Newbie. She'd just have to wait for someone else to join, and they'd forget about her.
"Letter," he said, handing her the parchment.
"Why didn't the courier just come and find me?" Aryana asked as she took it.
"Are you kidding?" Isran said condescendingly. "Only the Dawnguard are allowed in here, Newbie." He paused. "You'd better go pack your things."
"Why?" Aryana asked.
He nodded to the parchment.
"You read it?" Aryana glared. "How dare-"
"Oh, save it till you've read the letter," he said. He turned away, but before he got more than two feet away from her, he turned back around and added, "Why don't you take Sceolang with you. He's taken a liking to you."
"Where am I going?"
Isran nodded to the parchment again and left the room. Frowning, Aryana tucked her long silver hair behind her ear, opened the parchment, and began to read. She recognized her mothers thin, slanted writing at once.

Aryana,
I know you have just arrived at Fort Dawnguard,
and I'm sorry to drag you home so early, but I
have devastating news. We received news from
the army that your brother, Thorald, is missing-
in-action. I'm convinced that the Battle-Borns
know something about it, but they won't admit
anything. Avulstein has taken to his room and
refuses to leave, and Olfina is stillconvinced that
our 'little feud' with the Battle-Borns is ridiculous;
I don't believe even the Divines know what for.
I'm sorry that this had to happen just as you got
settled in, but we really need you back here in
Whiterun now.
Best wishes,
Mother

Aryana's hands were shaking so bad she could hardly read her mother's words. Thorald was missing? He was (is, she reminded herself sternly) her best friend throughout childhood. He and Aryana had spent all their childhood with their friends, Vilkas and Farkas, and Aela when she had become a Companion when Aryana was fifteen. Aryana had a hunch that her mother was right, and that the Battle-Borns knew more than they were letting on. Before long Aryana had packed and was about to fetch her horse from the stables when her fellow hunter, Ingjard, came into the quarters.
"You're leaving?" she asked, eyeing Aryana's packed trunk.
"Yeah," Aryana sighed. "By brother's missing."
"Oh," Ingjard looked uncomfortable. "I'm sorry."
Aryana shrugged. "He'll turn up. I've got to go, but I'll be back soon." She smiled. "See you."

[hr]

"Mother? Avulstein? Olfina... I'm home!" Aryana looked around her empty house. It wasn't weird that they were gone; her mother and Olfina worked the jewelry stall in the marketplace and her father was a blacksmith. And as to her brother, he was probably either hiding in his room or having a drink at the Bannered Mare. Aryana headed up the stairs to her attic bedroom and sat down on her bed. She had only been gone for two weeks, but there was already a thin layer of dust forming on her quilt, and when she tried to pry open her window she found that it was stuck. Aryana laid down on her bed and stared at the ceiling. Before long, her eyes had begun to droop; she had, after all, spent the past three days on horseback. Perhaps she would just take a short nap until supper...

She was standing in front of a dark castle, not unlike the many Nord forts scattered across Skyrim. She saw shadows moving in the windows, harsh and black against the red light behind them. She heard muffled voices as well, but could not make out any words. Perhaps they were speaking another language? No, she somehow knew it was the Common Tongue, though perhaps an older form of it. Just as she began to take a step closer to the castle, the scene changed.
She was now on a frozen mountainside; a snowy landscape before her eyes. She shivered; looking down, she could see she was still in her Ancient Nordic armor. Aryana heard movement behind her and turned. She faced a small village adorned with wooden cottages. People moved around them, tanning leather, skinning horkers, cooking in out-door fire pits. Aryana recognized the people as Nords at once; they were tall and fair, though slightly different than her fellows that she was accustomed to seeing in Skyrim. These Nords wore heavy fur coats and spoke in accents like the Dark Elves in Windhelm. Maybe I am in Windhelm, she thought, but pushed the thought away as soon as it came. There were no mountains like these in Windhelm, and was that ash in the sky?
So maybe we're in Morrowind, Aryana wondered, but pushed that thought away too. Nords didn't live in Morrowind. Plus, it was covered in ash from the Red Mountain, and as far as she knew, Morrowind never had mountains like these.
Solstheim! she nearly shouted when the thought occurred to her. Of course! The rocky landscape fit the descriptions she'd heard perfectly, and that would explain why the Nords were different than the ones in Skyrim.
Aryana watched them work. She took particular interest in a girl who looked to be the same age as Aryana. She had long red hair that she had tucked into a hood while she worked. There was a boy who also looked around Aryana's age working alongside the red-haired girl. They seemed to be skinning some sort of elk. The girl had a bow and a sheath of arrows strapped to her back, and the boy a double-edged axe. They seemed to be made of pure ice. The weapons made Aryana's own Dawnbreaker look like a butter knife, and it was Daedric artifact.
Aryana tried to take a step toward them, but her legs wouldn't move. She frowned. She swore she'd seen the girl before, but she didn't know where, or how she could have. Maybe she'd seen someone in Skyrim who was a distant relative of this girl?
As soon as she came to this conclusion, the scene changed again. She was still watching the red-haired girl, but this time the boy wasn't with her. She looked frightened, her ice-bow drawn, as she made her way up the mountainside toward what appeared to be a large temple. People were working around her, Nords and Dark Elves alike, but they all had this glazed look about them. Aryana opened her mouth the speak to the girl, but the scene changed before she got the chance.
She was now standing not on a mountain, but in the shadow of one. This time, she knew where she was right away; she had seen this mountain nearly everyday her whole life. It was the Throat of the World, and as she looked down, she saw the outlines of Ivarstead below her.
She felt something cold touch her shoulder and, turning her head, she could see flaming red hair. It was the girl from Solstheim, but now she had her bow drawn, an arrow notched and aimed at some unseen enemy. Aryana and the girl were standing back-to-back, Dawnbreaker glowing in Aryana's hand. She heard a loud noise, a language she had never heard, and realized that it was her and the red-haired girl shouting. The mountain shook, and for the first time in living memory, a dragon flew across the horizon.
Her vision faded to black, with one word echoing over and over in her ears... "Dovahkiin."
[/fancypost]

[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 360px; font-family: bell MT; font-size: 12px;][justify][color=#363636]
[color=#363636]basic info x

x sixteen years old.
x just celebrated her sixteenth name day.
x only child of Agathe Diônê.
x lived in Edipsos, along with her friend Zoë, until she joined the Hunters of Artemis.
x a rather shy girl.
x daughter of Zeus, which she discovered after she joined the huntresses.
x when Eris, the goddess of strife and discord, gave the goddesses Athena, Hera, and Aphrodite a golden apple and told them that the "fairest" of them should receive it, they went to Paris, Prince of Troy, and bade him tell them who should receive it. Paris judged that Aphrodite was the fairest of the three, and so Athena and Hera made Thalia, who, as a Huntress of Artemis was a sworn maiden, fall in love with him, so Artemis's wrath would reign on them both. The Hunters of Artemis were in Sparta at the time of the Trojians' visit, and there Paris and Thalia met. The night of Paris's leave, Thalia went with him and Zoë (who had become betrothed to Paris's brother, Hector) to Troy.
Artemis's wrath was so great the Greek army followed in her stead. Menelaus had wanted a reason to continue the war, and he justified it by claiming that by taking Thalia, the Trojans had angered the gods, and they needed to pay for what they had done. The Greeks sailed with the intent of destroying Troy and its people, killing Thalia for her desertion, and kidnapping Zoë, whom had since then fallen in love with Hector.

Theme x
[youtube]DT-dxG4WWf4[/youtube]

Paris of Troy x

[img width=353 height=510]https://40.media.tumblr.com/tu…2um18UXJ1rov6n6o1_500.png[/img]

we're gonna pretend he's not a total idiot.

speaking of him being an idiot...

done.
[/fancypost]

[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 360px; font-family: pieces of eight; font-size: 16px;][justify]The year is 1742.
Cursed Aztec gold had glittered on an island in the Caribbean; but was now in the hands of pirates. The crewmen of the Black Pearl were cursed, their bodies bone in the moonlight. Captain Jack Sparrow was once the captain of the Black Pearl, but had been mutinied upon. Captain Barbossa and his crew knew that the child of "Bootstrap" Bill Turner was in the possession of a medallion, and so they journeyed to Port Royal where Elizabeth Swann and Will Turner were living. The pirate's kidnapped Elizabeth, thinking that she was Bootstrap's daughter. Will convinced Jack to help rescue her, so they traveled to the Isla de Muerta and saved both Elizabeth and the Black Pearl.
Thirteen years ago, Jack Sparrow had made a deal with Davy Jones. The Pearl had been at the bottom of the sea, and Jone's raised it in return for 100 years of service. The thirteen agreed upon years passed, and so Jone's sent a messenger, Bootstrap, to remind Jack of their agreement. Bootstrap branded Jack with a black spot, marking him for the Kraken. The Kraken came for Jack, and the crew of the Black Pearl abandoned ship. Elizabeth tied Jack to the mast of the Pearl and escaped with the rest of the crew, with none of them knowing what she had done. Jack died and was sent to Davy Jones's locker.
The crew went to Tia Dalma, an enchantress living in the Amazon, and bade her tell them a way to rescue Jack. Tia agreed, and sent them to Singapore, where they made an agreement with Sao Feng and acquired a ship, the Hai Peng, and a crew. They sailed to Davy Jone's locker and rescued Jack, who promptly told the crew what Elizabeth had done. They escaped the locker, but not without Davy Jones's notice. There was a battle between The Brethren Court and the crew of the Flying Dutchmen. Will and Elizabeth married, but while fighting, Davy Jones stabbed Will through the heart, killing him. Jack took the heart of Davy Jones, placed a knife in Will's dead hand, and stabbed it.
Davy Jones was dead, but at a cost. The crew of the Dutchman cut out Will's heart, and placed it in a chest. Will returned from the dead, but was forced to a decade of service as Captain of the Dutchman, so long as Elizabeth remained faithful. If she did not return to him ten years after he set sail, Will would be doomed to captain the dutchman for eternity.
Nine and a half years had past when Elizabeth next saw Jack Sparrow. She had a son then, William Turner III. They had been living in Scotland when Jack sought out Elizabeth, asking her to join his crew to search for the Fountain of Youth. Elizabeth agreed to sail with Jack and, leaving her son behind with a friend, set sail with Jack and his companions, Angelica and Blackbeard on a journey that would last two years.

Locations x

The Black Pearl
The Flying Dutchman
Hai Peng
Queen Anne's Revenge
Shipwreck Cove
Tortuga
Whitecap Bay
Fountain of Youth

Characters x

Jack Sparrow
William Turner II
Elizabeth Turner
Mary Frances IV
Philip Swift
Angelica
William Turner III [/fancypost]

[hr]

[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 360px; font-family: bell MT; font-size: 16px;][justify][color=#363636]
Basic info x

x born on May 8th, 1725 in London.
x was 7 years old when she found Will in a shipwreck while on a ship from England.
x the governor of Port Royal's daughter.
x married to William Turner.
x has a son, William Turner III.
x an orphan.

theme x
[youtube]cScVoZWVDLQ[/youtube]

William Turner x

Will and Elizabeth x

[/fancypost]

[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 360px; font-family: bell MT; font-size: 12px;][justify][color=#363636]
[color=#363636]basic info x

x the younger sister of Aragorn II, and as their parents died when they were young, Aragorn raised her.
x as a member of House Elendil, Lyanna has been gifted with long life (averaging a little over 200 years if she dies a natural death.)
x was born on April 19th, 2938.
x is seven years younger than her brother, Aragorn.
x in love with Legolas Greenleaf, who is in turn in love with her, but he is afraid of being with her because she will live a mortal (though extended) life.
x moved to the Woodland Realm when she was fifteen, when Aragorn went north to become a ranger. At the time, Legolas was 1953 years old.
x quickly became good friends with Legolas.
x at the time of her brother's death in FO 120, Lyanna, Legolas, Gimli, and Samwise Gamgee will journey on a ship Legolas will build to the Undying Lands, where they will be reunited with Frodo and Bilbo Baggins, and will become immortal like the elves who live in the Undying Lands.

theme x

[youtube]BhpiQ4aZ75k[/youtube]

legolas x

[/fancypost]

[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 360px; font-family: bell MT; font-size: 12px;][justify][color=#363636]
[color=#363636]"I shouldn't be too long, I promise," Elizabeth assured her son, Will, as she finished strapping a saddle to her horse. "I've just got to go for a few hours, there are some errands I need to take care of."
"But Mummy," Will whined, "I want to go with you!"
"Not today," said Elizabeth sternly. She couldn't explain it, but even though Elizabeth only in

WIP

[/fancypost]

[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 360px; font-family: bell MT; font-size: 12px;][justify][color=#363636]
[color=#363636]
basic information x
x nineteen years old.
x studying criminal defense at Middleton University.
x was in the top 25 of her high school, and the leader of several clubs.
x graduated from Bakers High School in Bakers, Indiana with an International Baccalaureate diploma.
x Grace is very opinionated, making her a great candidate for an attorney.
x has been best friends with Ally Marshall since seventh grade; and now shares an apartment with her.
x has one younger sister, Margaret.
x will fall in love with attorney William Bloom.

bedroom x

outfits x
x shown in thread.

theme x
[youtube]62hH0BRkhxE[/youtube][/fancypost]

[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 360px; font-family: bell MT; font-size: 12px;][justify][color=#363636]
[color=#363636]Falling.
It was dark, and the world was cold; but then it was warm, and there was light again.
The light came from a window above Aryana's head. She heard a voice calling her name, and she turned her head to see who was talking to her. It was a man, wearing silver armor engraved with the head of a wolf.
"Vilkas?" Aryana whispered.
"I'd heard you were back!" Vilkas exclaimed, sitting down on the end of Aryana's bed. "Though, regretfully, not for a good reason."
"Yeah," the girl answered. She made no attempt to sit up. Her palms were sweaty and her voice shook.
"Are you okay?" Vilkas asked.
"Mmm hmm," Aryana said rather quickly, and forced herself to sit. The world spun and her head began to throb.

WIP

[/fancypost]