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Post by Ashlyn Swallow G5 on Oct 31, 2008 16:33:58 GMT -5
((*shrugs* Feel free to send someone in if you wish. Ashlyn is just planning to have a nice little chat with her Uncle but she won't mind people coming in search of her.))
Last class of the day. Ashlyn sighed heavily, ignoring the slightly concerned glance from Damon. Exasperated with the general inattention, Hawthorne dismissed the class early and huffed with annoyance. “I have to talk to McGonagall; Gryffindor stuff.” Ashlyn told Damon the lie with a flicker of a smile before practically running out of the classroom. It was Halloween and almost everyone was looking forward to the feast tonight. Ashlyn wasn’t one of them, nor had she ever experienced the Halloween feast at Hogwarts. In her dorm, Ashlyn only paused to change into purely black robes, grab the book she would use for reference despite knowing what she was going to do perfectly and swapped her book bag for the white bag with her materials in. A quick moment to check that she had everything that she would need and then Ashlyn was gone, closing the door softly behind her.
Halloween was the day when the barriers between the living and the dead were said to be thinnest. It was the day people chose to honour and remember their dead relatives and friends. Naturally, Ashlyn, with her knowledge of rituals and traditions and what older generations longingly called the ‘old ways’, did her remembrance in a different way. The room, in a corridor close to the Gryffindor common room for convenience, had been selected by her way back in first year and she hadn’t ever needed to choose a different one. Carefully, knowing that one small mistake would render her plans useless, Ashlyn prepared the room for her ritual. With salt, she drew a perfect circle from north to east to south and completed it in the west before pouring a bright blue potion over the salt. As the salt absorbed the potion, the circle glowed a bright white and Ashlyn smiled in satisfaction. It was working, just like it had every year. Gritting her teeth, Ashlyn snapped the necklace around her neck and knelt to place it in the middle of the circle before sitting outside the circle with her eyes closed, visualizing her Uncle’s face in her mind. She could sense the circle glowing brighter and brighter even through her closed eyelids and a tear escaped her tightly closed eyes when memories started floating through her mind, provoked by the ritual.
It took perhaps ten minutes for the memories to cease flowing through her mind. The first time had taken almost an hour before she could gain enough magical strength and stamina to finish the ritual. It was, after all, not supposed to be attempted by anyone who hadn’t graduated and especially not by a first year. Tentatively, Ashlyn opened her eyes and offered a small smile to the apparition standing in the middle of the circle, arms folded and eyebrow raised expectantly. Just like her Uncle. “I’ve missed you,” she told him gently. His blank stare softened slightly as the corner of his mouth twitched into the hint of a smile. Then, just as she did every year, Ashlyn took a deep breath, raised her head so that her blue eyes met the dull blue eyes of her dead Uncle and asked him the question she most wanted to know the answer to. “Are you proud of me this year, James?” Normally her Uncle grinned and nodded smugly, assuring his niece that she was loved. This time, his smile dropped and he shook his head slightly. “No? Why not?” Her voice was panicked, rising in volume. “The twins and Layla? Do you hate them like my parents do?” Grimly, he shook his head and Ashlyn racked her mind for other offences she could have caused him, listing off possible things, each more wild and unlikely than the last, until she thought of something. “Damon,” she stated, somehow sure that this was the reason and confirmed it with the nod from James. “Why?” She demanded furiously, her eyes feverishly bright as she glared at her uncle. “He...he’s there when I need him and I trust him and he cares! I haven’t been cared for for so long. Please don’t take that away from me now. Please.” Her voice cracked as her hands came up to cover her face, turning away from her uncle. Unseen by her, James reached out a transparent hand to his niece and then dropped his arm back to his side, smiling sadly. “Tell him that,” a hoarse whisper ordered her, making Ashlyn turn back to him in shock. The husky voice was so very unlike the smooth tones of her uncle but it was definitely coming from the apparition she had summoned up, the apparition that should not be able to speak. “Bloody hell!” Ashlyn cursed exasperatedly. “Can I just not do any ritual in the right way anymore? First the bonding with Damon and now a speaking spirit! Why don’t I just invite everyone down to stare at my terrible ritual skills!”
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Post by Rister Graas S6 on Nov 2, 2008 16:03:40 GMT -5
Rister peered absently at the piece of paper Lita and he were using for amusement in a make-shift game they had developed over the years and stifled a yawn. He had just returned from a longer romp that had also taken him through Hogsmeade to see some relatives and had been fully planning on going to sleep. Lita, however, seemed to have other plans and Rister had found himself being dragged towards History of Magic classroom. He wasn’t even sure why Lita took the class. But then again, he took the class as well, even though he knew the history of the wizarding world as well. He knew the history of both muggle and wizarding world for that matter. Mom considered it to be part of general education so they had all learned through games and books and stories the history of the entire world. Rister draw a large X in a still free nook of the game and glanced up towards the professor as the bell rang loudly. “Bed-time,” Rister told Lita with a smile flashing over his face for the briefest of moments, as he stood and reached the classroom door with two long strides. He didn’t want to get stuck in the throng of students strolling lazily out of the classroom and he truly intended to get an hour or two of sleep before he’d head off to dinner. It was Halloween feast today anyway. Too many idiotic decorations for Rister’s taste, who had never been a fan of the holiday. His family just didn’t celebrate it, which might count for part of his distaste for the day.
Rister moved swiftly through the hallways, enjoying the fact he was an older Slytherin as that mere fact made people move out of his way. And it wasn’t even as if he had a reputation as a bully. He was generally too lazy or too indifferent to bother with that, but that didn’t mean Rister didn’t have a temper. Even so, he had only gotten half-way towards the dungeons entrance when Damon called out for him. Turning, Rister caught the book with a couple of parchments between its pages and blinked at his brother. “Ashlyn forgot those,” Damon called from where he was standing next to the Head Girl, who was attempting to get his attention. Well, if the choice was playing bag-boy for Ashlyn or listening to the blabbering of the Head Girl? Rister raised the book towards Damon who allowed himself to be dragged away at that and turned on his heels. Considering that Ashlyn hadn’t been with Damon and it was too early for a meal, she was most likely in her common room. Rister wouldn’t mind irritating some Gryffindors while he delivered the book.
He hadn’t really even reached the Gryffindor common room door, when he saw the first Gryffindors. Ashlyn’s dorm-mates even, Rister noticed with only a little bit of malicious glee. Ashlyn would probably enjoy the irony of having her dorm-mates run for her. “Ladies,” Rister drawled lazily, “Is Ashlyn in your common room?” Both of the girls smiled at him and while one blushed and dropped her eyes, the other smiled boldly, tossed her hair over her shoulder and stepped closer to Rister. “She left as soon as she came. Ashlyn never really takes the time to just sit back and smell the roses, does she?” the bolder girl simpered and Rister measured her with a lazy glance and a quirk of his lip-corner. “And in which direction did she leave to?” Rister purred back and after the girl had waved a general direction for him, turned and left without even listening to what the Gryffindor girl was calling after him. The Gryffindor fifth year girls had correctly guessed that if Ashlyn wasn’t speaking overly fondly of them, the Graas males would keep their distance. Not that it meant Rister would have been interested anyway. But he could wander the hallways for a little while and see if he’d find Ashlyn.
Rister was good at orientating so he always knew just which direction he would have to turn when he wanted to turn to the Great Hall. But he didn’t frequent in this part of the castle and so he had to count on pure luck to guide him. Thereby, it took him a good quarter of an hour before an odd glow caught his eye. Narrowing his eyes at the eerie white glow pouring out from under a closed door, Rister let his wand fall from its pocket in his sleeve into his palm. Who knew what was stored in that room or what it was used to? Generally it was safer not to prod strange fires and potions if you weren’t sure what would happen. But just as he was about to turn away in order to leave, Ashlyn’s voice carried over from the room as well. Far too faintly for Rister to understand the words being said, but loudly enough for him to know it was Ashlyn. A bleak mask fell on his face and his fingers were still gently toying with his wand, as Rister grasped the door-knob and pushed the door open. It took a brief moment for him to take in the view he was now presented with.
An apparition in a summoning circle, Ashlyn with tears in her eyes. Dropping Ashlyn’s book, Rister stepped into the room and slammed the door closed behind him with his foot. He crossed the room with long strides and the room was filled with loud sizzling and the light smell of burning flesh as he reached his left arm into the circle and snatched up the necklace in the middle of it. Pulling his arm from the circle as soon as possible, Rister pushed the unpleasant sensation of fire-ants crawling on the arm he had reached into the fire to the back of his mind. He’d deal with it later. Or maybe go to Lita. If she could help soothe the pain in his arm, she would perhaps feel a bit better as she hadn’t been completed soothed with Rister’s explanation about being subjected to Cruciatus. Tossing the warm necklace from one palm to another, Rister glanced at the circle again. Upon seeing that the apparition was gone, he placed his foot on the circle to douse the flame and pulled the salt away, effectively breaking the circle and making the glow fade. His wand slipped back into his sleeve as Rister stared at the necklace in his hand. How was he supposed to go on from here?
Ashlyn was smart and very well educated when it came to old traditions. Even mom had been pleasantly surprised at that. Surely she knew there were repercussions to avoid people summoning spirits. It would be so easy, if spirits and ghosts could give you answers to all life’s problems. Yet, such spells not only left possibly harmful residue, but they could take a very heavy toll on the person summoning, occasionally even be fatal. The fact the apparition had spoken was just one sign that the ritual had developed a mind of its own to an extent. And Ashlyn had been careless at not locking the door as well. Stepping a bit closer to Ashlyn, Rister crouched and sent a comforting smile – usually reserved for his sisters – to the blonde Gryffindor: “They only way of comfort I’ve been taught to offer is to let the woman lean on my shoulder and borrow my strength, but you wouldn’t like that.” The apparition had told her to tell him something. Tell Damon? What would even be important enough for Ashlyn to risk so? She was far from a fool.
“Was that your uncle?” Rister questioned, even though he was quite sure of the fact so he didn’t really react when Ashlyn affirmed it with a light nod. He could understand Ashlyn’s distrust and he knew she hadn’t had the same happy childhood as Rister himself had had. But apparitions and ghosts weren’t the same as the living creatures had been. Ashyln was bound to know that too. “You cared for your uncle, so why don’t you trust him?” Rister questioned, raising a hand as a sign for Ashlyn to let him finish, “He loved you and brought you up and did a very good job at that from where I stand. So why don’t trust your uncle to have already taught you all he needed to while he was alive? Let the dead rest with the dead, this world is for the living.” And it wasn’t really his place to say anything more or to lecture Ashlyn right now. Reaching a hand out, Rister took one of Ashlyn’s and dropped the necklace in it, before standing and offering a hand to her as well: “Come. We have some Dreamless Sleep potion in Morgana’s room you can have. At least the dreams can be kept at bay tonight.”
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Post by Ashlyn Swallow G5 on Nov 3, 2008 16:01:58 GMT -5
She wished that her cousins had gotten the chance to meet their uncle. Despite what they thought, what she allowed and almost encouraged them to think, Ashlyn’s attitude had been worse than their own when she had first met James. She was perhaps the only three year old child to hate anyone so fervently. He had officially taken her into his household when she was three but there had still been business to take care of and contracts to renegotiate so she had stayed with her Aunt, Castor, Pollux and Leda for another three years except for the odd months James was allowed to spend with her. Ashlyn had never told anyone that before. Even her parents thought that James had immediately cancelled his contracts with other musicians and his record company for her, Foolish. They had overestimated the possible sentiment a man could have for a child he didn’t even know properly. Her Aunt, bribed well by James for her secrecy, merely allowed them to think that she was looking after Ashlyn for the day when her parents summoned her and it was not James who brought her to their side. Loyalty was dead, but bribery had always worked well in its place. That was the very first lesson that James had taught her, however much he hadn’t meant to. He had taught her a lot, o much that she was struggling to pass onto her cousins. She didn’t have the way with words that James had had. Always James, never Uncle, before Uncle meant that he was family and family had never been a word to savour. Family represented betrayal.
Layla had fewer problems than her older siblings. Which, Ashlyn supposed, made sense. Though the twins hadn’t known it at the time, they had always been fighting for attention with the sister they had never got to know. Kellyn Ellison. Ashlyn’s eyes turned calculating. She would have to deal with the girl in some way at some point. Keegan felt nothing for the girl who, had she been born to the same mother, would have made him a triplet instead of a twin, other than a faint wish to make sure that she survived Hogwarts because they shared blood-ties. Layla didn’t even know about the girl; she had enough problems of her own without being burdened with the decision of whether to approach a half-sister that, by rights, could disinherit and disown all of them as soon as she turned 17. By only a few minutes, Kellyn was older than Alexis and the fact that the twins had been illegitimate meant that they were entitled to nothing from their father unless he cared to give them it. Layla was entitled to little more than her older siblings. Alexis completely despised the Hufflepuff girl who had always had more of her father’s attention than she did, who had more power than they did and showed no sign of wanting it. Not that she wanted Kellyn to claim what was rightfully hers but Alexis felt, and Ashlyn could help but to agree, that if she had that power, that influence, then she should use it. Hadn’t Ashlyn always used hers to her advantage when she needed to? But what could Ashlyn do about yet another cousin she had succeeded in ignoring the existence of? For five years she had succeeded in all but disowning her family and then three cousins popped up in her life, bringing the threat of yet another cousin with them, and Damon and his family brought a whole other set of issues that she wasn’t ready, would surely never be ready, to face.
“No!” Ashlyn’s anguished cry broke through the silence as Rister ended the ritual – in a very unorthodox and dangerous manner which Ashlyn just knew that Lita would be furious to learn about; well, Ashlyn wasn’t above a bit of revenge for the abrupt end to her conversation with the only person she had ever loved. A low sob escaped before Ashlyn forced herself into composure. Five years and she still needed a bit more warning than Rister had given her to adjust to the fact that James was once again gone from her life. She truly was pathetic. Maybe it was time to return to her parents. She had never been so weak when she had been fighting against them. But her parents would demand that she cut all ties with Damon and Ashlyn couldn’t help but to flinch away from that idea. She had defended the bond between them to James, the one person she would never usually even think of defying. Giving into her parents simply wasn’t an option. It never had been.
Her head hurt. The flickering lights in the room affected her eyes and Ashlyn bit her tongue fiercely, forcing herself to focus on Rister. Her magic-induced migraine could wait until later. Rister knew well enough that she wouldn’t want any comfort from him so she didn’t bother to offer a reply to that. Perhaps she would have accepted, possibly even welcomed, comfort from Damon but he wasn’t there nor did he like offering comfort. He asked if the spirit had been her uncle and Ashlyn nodded lightly, her eyes wary as she regarded Damon’s older brother but she stayed silent while he spoke. It was only polite after all, and Rister often had good points to make. She liked him for that, even though she didn’t trust him as much as she probably should considering that he was the older brother of the person who was her closest – only? – friend. Trust didn’t come easy to her. It probably had, once. Or maybe not. She couldn’t remember, didn’t really want to remember.
“I was meant to be a Slytherin,” Ashlyn told him unexpectedly. She hadn’t meant to say anything of the sort; the words just slipped out. It seemed right to be finally letting someone share that part of her so she didn’t bother to make herself shut up. “If not Slytherin then Ravenclaw.” Ashlyn laughed quietly, shaking her head in amusement at a distant memory. “The Sorting Hat nearly begged me to accept one of those two choices. It was expected; James had been a Slytherin and my parents aren’t idiots. I was raised by him and I suppose I idolised him. He died and that offered my parents the opportunity to get what they wanted: a good, obedient Gryffindor daughter.” Her smile was bitter, betrayed, but she continued. She had to. “They bribed me with something that should have been mine anyway. I shouldn’t have accepted but I did; I was weak, easily manipulated. It was expected. After all, what child can discover the dead body of the only father she’s ever known and still remain strong? At least...they tell me that I found him.” Instinctively, her hand pressed against her forehead as if she could force the memory to come to the front of her mind. “I can’t remember. I remember waking up and going to find him because it was my birthday and I was excited because he had promised that my violin would be finished by then – it was being handmade by the same man who made me my first violin and it’s a long process to an eager child. I knew better than to try to open his bedroom door. I had tried it once and he hadn’t been alone.” Ashlyn’s cheeks flushed lightly in embarrassment. She hadn’t understood the situation then but she certainly did now. “So I went to the music room that I always had my lessons in. I opened the door; I think I opened the door. And then I can’t remember anything until a few hours later.” With the memories so close to the surface Ashlyn nodded and took Rister’s hand without resistance. Yes. That Dreamless Sleep potion would be needed. She didn’t want any bad dreams tonight.
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