Harry Potter - Life Goes On (IC)

Kleo let out a sigh as the bar keeper barked at her to finish up what she was doing, there were patrons to serve. She sat before the small vanity in her room, carefully gathering her blonde hair and wrapping a tie around it to keep it out of her face. Standing, she quickly straightened things before exiting the room and heading down the stairs towards the crowded bar. She supposed there were good things about working in a place like this, there was always somebody new to talk to. The shoppers of Diagon Alley liked to spend some time talking to the friendly servant and she had managed to make friends with some of the other shop keeps in her rare moments of freedom. "Keep that up and you'll be out on the street girl" Tom told her as she stepped onto the main floor, she could feel her face flushing slightly as she slid behind the bar and began filling orders as they were given, offering friendly smiles to familiar faces and introducing herself to new ones. Even so, she wanted so much more out of her life, all that time and effort in Wizarding school, was this all she was ever going to amount to? She was still young, there was time to do more, but she was never given any time to do anything else, and a part of her felt guilty for leaving the old bar keeper without any help. He may have been gruff and rude, but she knew he would never really kick her out and that deep down he knew he needed her.

She glanced up as the back door opened, rays of sunshine coming into the darkened room, it was mid summer, her favorite time of year. Maybe if it died down enough she could go out into Diagon Alley before the sun went down and enjoy it. She considered the idea of stopping by the broom shop, but that idea brought along with it a surge of pain and longing. She knew she'd never be able to afford even the cheapest of brooms, she made nothing more than the tips that some were kind enough to slip and that was what she used to get the few things that she needed to survive.

'a pint o' Mead m'dear' came a familiar friendly voice. She glanced behind her, recognizing the beetle black eyes crinkle in a smile beneath that main of his "Hagrid, how are you?" she asked, grinning widely. Hagrid had always been one of her favorite professors at Hogwarts. She pulled out one of the largest glasses she could find and began pumping the mead into it.

Marc entered the Leaky Cauldron, just like he did almost every day during his lunch break. He took place near a free table and patiently waited until he was served. He started to look around and immediately spotted Hagrid. It was kind of hard to miss a man of that size. He smiled and nodded towards him. While Care of Magical Creatures wasn't his best subject while he was still on Hogwarts, he did finish it with an A. He took the class because he was mainly interested in the Magical Creatures part, not the Care part. Still, it had served him well. His last project was based on the scales of the fire salamander, making flame retardant robes and it was rather successful.

Aella had entered Diagon Alley than to pass time away from her band members before she was tempted to jinx them.
They seemed to think that their's was a democratic organization when in fact it was at best a benevolent dictatorship, after all Aella had invested a good portion of her own capital in forming Spellbound.
She'd almost cashiered the lot of them they'd so terribly angered her arguing over petty issues.
"Decisions made in anger and haste are always bad and such a waste" she said to herself with a sigh
It was always this way it seemed when you worked with talented people
She walked past the shops that lined this narrow little piece of the Wizarding world finding all the hurry and social games around her a bore.
In a evil twist of humor she suddenly without cause shrieked as loudly and gratingly as she could.
The shocked expressions mingled with disapproval and even fear made her smile as she turned and walked into the Leaky Cauldron.
Aella had always enjoyed the unexpected considering it one of life's bonuses in an otherwise boring, orderly and dull gray society.
Her ebony nails stroked the bar as she took a stool and ordered a drink. When a Wizard smiled at her Aella smiled back exposing sharpened fangs coupled with a dangerous manic expression that made him reconsider annoying her.
She'd actually obtained the fangs in a muggle theatrical shop and had since then enjoyed the looks they got when she smiled

Logan sat at the desk of his big office, typing one of his latest stories on his type writer. It was rather busy at the Daily Prophet as many journalists and workers moved about and chatted among each other. The news business was very hectic and had a lot of social Darwinism. Survival of the fittest. Many journalists were cut throat to get to the top of the latter, proving to the Editor and Chief Barnabas Cuffe that they could be the next editor when he retires. Luckily for Logan, he already had one foot in the door already knocking out Rita Skeeter from her post. Logan had drastically changed the Daily Prophet ever since he started working there. Before, the paper had a habit of spitting out false information and only putting out what the Ministry wanted. The Daily Prophet had left a nasty taste in the mouths of Wizards and Witches for lying to them numerous times about danger. Logan had to fight tooth and nail to bring the paper back to it's honest roots and Barnabas respects him for that. Although the Ministry isn't too fond of Logan for the fact he was a bit "too truthful" and could jeopardize future situations they could cover up. Logan also created a huge uproar in the newsroom when people learned that he was both muggle-born and a homosexual, both being a bit taboo to some of the witches and wizards. However, through obstacles Logan fought his way to the top and earned respect from many.

Logan finished typing his story and took the paper out of the typewriter. He stood up and weaved through several people moving and running around. It was very loud and hectic at the moment like it always is. Logan passed by one of the writers and waved to him. "You better get that forecast in to Barnabas before he has your head!" He laughed a bit, patting him on the shoulder. Logan was known to be the friendly funny one, despite his drive to be the best. Logan walked up to the Editor's office and knocked on the door twice before entering. "Ahh Logan! Finished with that report, I hope?" Logan nodded and put it on Barnabas' desk. "Finished and ready for you to proof read, Barnabas!" Logan straightened his bow tie which matched his buttoned-up shirt. He always dressed in bright colors that matched his personality. Barnabas read silently over the article, making little notes here and there as he went on. Finally he looked up at Logan with a loud laugh. "You really think the darkness is coming back? And have you any proof of this?" Logan bit his lip nervously. "The signs are everywhere. I mean all of the accidents lately and the strange disappearances. Put two and two together! And in fact, I do have someone. I'm interviewing them at the Leaky Cauldron later this afternoon." Barnabas scoffed a bit, shaking his head at the article. Logan wrote for the Good News and Bad News of the paper which were the two post popular sections that made the front cover. "People go missing all the time. It doesn't mean a new dark lord is coming." Barnabas paused for minute before giving it a second thought. "Well you had better have that interview ready by tomorrow. I risk my head to the Ministry to keep you hear and you had best not embarrass me. Your job depends on it." Logan nodded his head, looking at the editor in his head. Logan was in fact quite the looker and deemed attractive by anyone that's seen him. He didn't have the manly rugged features, but the soft pretty-boy kind. "When have I ever let you down? I've practically saved this paper from going to hell. Now I was the smartest student in my year at Hogwarts. Getting information out of someone is not hard. Don't worry, Barnabas. I've got this in the bag!" Logan tried to stay positive and enthusiastic despite that he could risk his job writing about a darkness that may or may not be real. "Well off you go then," said the Editor sternly. Logan nodded his head and left the office in a hurry.

It took a moment to fill the large tankard sized mug before she set it on the bar top for Hagrid "thank ya Kleo m'dear" he stated gruffly before drinking deeply from his mug. He glanced up only when he heard his name, spotting the familiar face and waving energetically towards him before burying himself in his mead once more. Kleo was quick to slide out from the bar, moving towards the table, she recognized Marc easily enough, one of the few that she looked forward to seeing everyday. She already had his drink of choice in hand "were you looking to get some lunch as well today?" she asked, a slight professional tone, marred by the grin she was wearing. "Where have you been? I-er we haven't seen you in a couple of days now" she asked, true curiosity brimming. The two weren't close enough for Kleo to make anything so personal, though she wanted it to be. She'd get in trouble with Tom though if she got too comfortable with certain customers, still she liked it when Marc came in, he was easy to talk to and was one of the few things she had to look forward to anymore. She remembered Marc from school, he was three years ahead of her and from Ravenclaw, he proved himself there as well, being one of the smartest in his class, of course this was all hear-tell, Kleo never shared any classes with him being in Hufflepuff and he wasn't around during her years as a Seeker so it was doubtful he'd remember her from school. No, she was nothing more than the bar maid at his favorite in, at least that was what she was sure he saw her as.

There was a part of her that felt embarrassed to speak to him, probably the part that kept her from getting too close and making a real friendship out of their almost daily chats. Marc had gone on to do amazing things while Kleo was stuck here living in a tiny room above the bar and managing off a few tips a day, secretly, deep down a part of her felt unworthy towards him. Still she kept all of that to herself wearing that usual grin as in nothing were bothering her. She was caught off guard by the sudden scream that took place only a few yards outside their door, her heart began to pound as adrenaline pumped through her for fear that someone might have been injured or worst. She watched as a few headed out the door, wands ready. She noticed the few who had were older, wary looks on their faces, those who fought or lived through the second dark war. She had lived with her mother in the muggle world so she hadn't been aware of such a thing until she started at Hogwarts, it was the one part of History of Magic that she had bothered to pay attention to, unfortunately it was a very brief subject that Mr Binns didn't feel much like elaborating on. Still she had checked out a few books and read what she could, the Dark Lord who ruled during the war sounded frightening but every book she had read on the subject clearly stated that he had died at the hands of the great hero, Harry Potter. Still after a time like that, she could see how those who were aware of it's affects could react in such a way.

There were several frown and mutters of disapproval as the group returned followed by a woman with darkened hair and pale skin. A vampire? Kleo thought, it wasn't completely unheard of, every now and then one would wander in, a few werewolves as well, they usually stuck to very specific drinks that were sold. Once the woman had sat down Kleo excused herself from Marc and made her way towards the pale woman, pausing about a foot away and smiling her friendly smile "what can I get you today?" she asked casually, expecting the bitter smelling red liquid the bar keep kept on hand for just such a customer.

An elderly wizard in brilliant purple robes muttered absentmindedly in the pale morning light, searching through his robes for an ancient silver key. A sign hung above him, stating “The Wickwell Workshop”, and the wizard was none other than James Wickwell himself. He unlocked the large door to his Workshop, eager to begin the day’s work and was immediately greeted by his apprentice’s huge Kneazle, Adonis. The cat-like creature shot a look at the old man, twitched its ears, and began to lead him down a hallway to the Laboratory proper. He only sighed, and followed, knowing that it was leading him to its wizard.

The poor boy had probably been up all night again, working on something or other, like his blasted broomstick. He had told Griff that even skilled Artificers often have trouble with brooms, and that he himself had not completed his own until he had been an Apprentice for ten years, but of course the younger wizard was very confident he would have his finished in a few months. “I must admit, though,” he told himself, “If anyone could do it this young, it would be him. He is definitely a remarkable young ma-“

Suddenly, his thoughts were cut off, as he had entered the Laboratory, only to find that Griff was indeed not working on his broom. Instead, the apprentice was in a sturdy, two-handed stance, pointing his wand down into a huge tank filled about a quarter of the way up with water. It filled the open space of the Lab completely, somewhere around 30 feet tall and about the same in diameter. He was standing on a small scaffolding attached to the tank’s rim, and as the master looked on, he loudly intoned ”Aguamenti maxima!” With a small jolt, a high-powered stream of water shot out of Griff’s wand, and would have thrown him off of his feet, if not for the Sticking Charms he was using to stay sturdy. It didn’t take long for the tank to fill, and once it was done, he finally noticed the older wizard standing below him. He grinned toothily, and said “Good morning, Master Wickwell, you’ve arrived just in time!”

Wickwell gave him a slightly reproachful look, noting that he was obviously up to something. The apprentice only chuckled slightly, and continued, saying “Don’t worry, I didn’t stay up all night, I just got up early, in order to prepare. I really think you’re going to like this. Remember how we were having all of that trouble determining what my Animagus form would be, and how it seemed to have odd proportions in my part-transformations?” The master nodded, saying “Yes, I remember. You always ended up with an elongated snout and smaller limbs, but neither of us could figure out what the full form would be…” His eyes grew wide, as he looked between his apprentice and the large tank that had filled his Laboratory. “Could it be…?”

Griff just smiled widely again, and having undone the Sticking Charms, did a high backflip into the water below him. During the flip, while in mid-air, his body blurred and elongated, and he splashed into the tank as a fully grown Bottlenose dolphin. Wickwell gasped at the transformation, before breaking out into a huge smile of his own, and laughing out loud. “Griffin my boy,” he said, “I can’t believe you finally did it! I thought it would take years longer, but once again I’ve underestimated you… Merlin’s beard, we need to write a letter to the Ministry immediately!” While his master bustled around, looking for parchment and a pen, Griff just lazily floated through the water, kicking his tail once or twice, and testing out the new form he had spent the last several years of his life working towards.

His first full transformation had actually been the previous day, when he was working out its final kinks, and had been expecting another partial change, but instead found himself rather rudely enlightened of his true form, and its limitations. After a minor period of discomfort, however, he managed to transform back, and had almost burst into tears. This was his first major personal accomplishment, and he had started it all the way back in his Fifth year at Hogwarts, over seven years before. All those years of slowly becoming accustomed to more and more of a change, until finally, just now, it was complete. He was an Animagus. Sitting there on the floor, he realized that his old Headmistress, Professor McGonagall would want to hear about it… She had been the one who, after hearing about a particularly successful Transfiguration he had pulled off, called him to her office and suggested he begin the training. She had a feeling that he’d be able to complete it, and now, he had. He quickly wrote her a letter explaining his success, and his form, though he knew little about it beyond simply “dolphin”. Ending the letter on a very gracious note, thanking her for all of her support while he was at her school, he sent it with one of his master’s owls, then got to work setting up for his grand reveal.

That, he thought, clearing his thoughts of those events, was why he had constructed the tank: so his master could take his measurements, as well as a picture of his form, so Griff could see what he looked like. The shrewd old man gleaned as much from the camera on the nearby desk, and the outline of measurements Griff had placed beside it, and before long, everything was quantified, and Wickwell gave his apprentice an “OK” symbol. The dolphin swirled around a few more times, enjoying the feel of the water on his skin, and the strength of his tail, but reluctantly rose to the surface to shift back into a human. Griff tried to contain himself, but couldn’t hold back his excitement. “Haha! Ah, this is fantastic! Thank you for your help, Master Wickwell, all these years I’ve been here. I don’t think it would have happened this quickly without you.” His master simply smiled back, saying “I don’t tell you this enough, Griff, but you are indeed a remarkable young man. You’re going to go far in this world, and this is just the first step.”

By this point, Griff had made his way back down to the floor, and had magically dried himself, so he and his master took some time to disassemble the tank and drain all of its water, during which Wickwell considered erecting something more permanent for his apprentice to transform in. An idea suddenly seized him, and he went off on his own to begin building. This was no rare occurrence, and Griff simply smiled at the bustling wizard, and told him he was heading down to the Leaky Cauldron to celebrate. Wickwell gave a noncommittal wave over his shoulder, already levitating huge metal beams to begin his project. His apprentice, Adonis in stride, left the Workshop and walked down Diagon Alley, waving to shopkeepers he knew and enjoying the varied sights and sounds of the busy wizarding marketplace.

Especially intriguing was a dark-haired witch about his age, who suddenly began to shriek out of nowhere, causing a tiny panic with the people around her on the street. This in itself would have just been weird, but the witch actually smiled at the shocked faces, and despite himself Griff found he was chuckling as well. He glanced down at his companion, throwing a non-verbal “What do you think?” The Kneazle looked up at him, and if it had been human, it would have sighed. It knew that Griff had a dark sense of humor sometimes himself, but couldn’t care less about strange witches that screamed in the middle of crowded streets. Griff just shot him a grin, and said “Come on, it looks like she’s going into the Cauldron too. Let’s go talk to her.”

A little reluctantly, the Kneazle followed him in, taking his usual place stretched out at the wizard’s feet when Griff sat down next to the screaming girl. “Could she be a banshee?” he thought to himself, looking her over. “No, she seems human enough. Well, here goes.” He ordered a small drink himself, and smiled over at her. She returned the look with a strange, fierce expression, and Griff noticed that her teeth were very pointed, almost like a vampire’s. He nearly reconsidered, but decided to push on anyway, consequences be damned. He knew he could take a vampire in a fight. “Ahem, I noticed your little stunt in the Alley a few minutes ago,” he said with another smile. “Pretty funny. You must be starved for laughs to have to resort to screaming your head off, though. People might think you’re crazy.” He looked over at her with a little twinkle in his eye, and asked “Are you?”

Ten glasses broken. Ten. ‘Oh, I’m sorry, Violet, but there was some kind of match on and’ – Match? What do I care about ridiculous Muggle football games? What I care about is the fact that ten of the lovely new glasses I purchased just a month ago are now broken. Incompetent idiots.

Since Voltaire’s catered both for Muggles and for the witches and wizards passing through to Diagon Alley, Violet's bar had always attracted an eclectic crowd who nevertheless left their arguments at the door for a pint of ale and, if they were lucky, live music from some odd little band that Violet liked. But, having such a crowd on most nights meant that accidents would almost be inevitable, and the loss of profit instantaneous. When the fight had broken out, everyone else had scarpered.

Violet’s increasingly barbed mental tirade at the world in general came to a sudden, unexpected stop when a loud shriek rent the air. Jumping in surprise, she spun, already reaching for the wand in the pocket of her jacket. As her fingers closed around the familiar wood, her eyes scanned the crowd, and alighted on the woman who appeared to have made the sound, if the irritated-looking people around her were any indication. Realising in that moment that the sound had in essence been a prank, Violet released her wand with a muttered curse, the frantic pounding of her heart calming back to its regular rhythm.

Idiots, she repeated with finality. Moving towards the Leaky Cauldron, Violet gave up on finding some replacement glasses in favour of a drink. While she owned her own bar, she never drank there, preferring a change of environment and a different crowd. She took the first empty table she saw in the Cauldron, sinking down with a sigh. She’d been trudging up and down Diagon Alley for most of the day already, and it was tiring work.

Aella looked up as the barmaid asked her choice and instantly her nimble mind and memory came into play, Kelo, Hufflepuff, seeker, 2 years her junior..
Aella's mind was her finest instrument but almost as soon as she could talk she'd cultivated the need to expose that fact to as few people as possible.
Mandarin Black Tea 105 degrees two lumps yellow sugar and a Vandy Biscuit chocolate hazel nut.
It is a surprise to see you working as a Bar Maid Kelo, one would think a young lady of your talent more able to find better work says Aella in her soft musical voice
Her order placed Aella scans the patrons of the Cauldron seeing if she has any enemies or just people she'd like to avoid among the patrons.

Mitch came barreling out of Gringotts speaking vary loudly, "And those sleeping quarters better be up to par by my next visit!" He was in Diagon Alley performing his mandatory inspection assigned to him by the International Draconic Standards Bureau. Once every three months, Mitch was required as a Fourth Degree Master Breeder to inspect the living conditions of all commercially utilized dragons in his jurisdiction, which included all of Ireland, England, and Scotland. This seemed like a lot of territory but the only commercially used dragons were the ones in Gringotts, a guardian of dangerous magical items in northern Ireland, and a rare water dwelling species in Loch Ness in Scotland used to attract tourism. So Mitch had to make a round trip twice a year and Gringotts was his last stop. So now Mitch was tired, hungry, and needed a stiff drink, therefore he heading to the Leaky Cauldron. As he walked he remembered when he first came here to buy his school supplies with his parents and younger brother. It was during the rebuilding after the second great war and it was depressing. Mitch was happy to see that everything had been returned to normal and the people where more at ease, even if the older witches and wizards were a bit jumpy. Mitch pondered on the events leading up to the war and how one of them was the exact reason he made the quarter-annual business trip. The famous Harry Potter and his associates broke into Gringotts and during there excursion, discovered a Ukrainian Ironbelly who as being severely mistreated. The dragon was subsequently freed and after the war was over, the mistreatment was brought to the Bureau's attention and stricter investigation was enforced. Mitch's father initially performed the search as the preceding residing Fourth Degree Master Breeder, however the old man has retired and is enjoying old age on the reserve back home. Mitch finally reached the Cauldron and entered into the din of the lunch crowd. He scanned the room looking for a place to sit and was happy to see an old friend. The man took up two bar stools and Mitch only ever met one man who could take up two bar stools. He smiled wide and approached the man, slapping him on the back as he took a seat to his right.

"Hagrid! Good to see you again! How's things going?" he asked in a heavy Irish brogue.

"Mitch Malone! You ol' egg warmer! I 'avn't seen you in ages! hows things back at the reserve?" Mitch became good friend with Hagrid during his tenure at Hogwarts. It was well known Hagrid had a soft spot for dragons and knew all about Mitch's family reserve. He immediately wanted to have him over for tea to discuss dragons and how the reserved work and how many dragons they had and of what breed. Mitch eventually invited Hagrid for a visit over the summer and that sealed their friendship.

"Well, da's enjoyin' 'is retirement sure 'nough. 'Im and mom always tell me to tell you to come fer another visit if I ever see you on mi rounds."

"I've been meanin' ta visit. Things been busy at Hogwarts. How are the dragons?" the huge man asked with he twinkling eyes of a child.

"They be doin' fine. I am a bit sad though."

"About wha'?" Mitch got the attention of the girl behind the bar.

"Excuse me miss, can I get an Guiness, two shots of fire-whiskey, and the corn beef lunch please?"

Marc smiled when he noticed Kleo, unexpectedly she had his favourite drink, pomegranate juice. "No thank you. I've been to Germany for the last couple of days. The planets there lined up great for a specific kind of reaction." He liked talking to Kleo, she was one of the few people that were genuinely interested in his work. Most wizards and witches didn't care much for magical advances and often saw it as unnatural or something. He was about to go into detail about the reaction until he heard a scream.He turned around to see what it was all about when he saw a familiarly looking black haired girl walk in. It took a couple of moments, but eventually he recognized her as a slytherin who was a year younger than him. He let out an soft annoyed sigh, he hated attention seekers. On top of that, she was a slytherin, and while he tried to be as open-minded as he could, he didn't like those either.

During his years on hogwarts the slytherins tried to give him a hard time once they found out he also took Muggle classes. He didn't care much, but it did leave an impression. Even more so recently. Purebloods and slytherins were the people that criticized his work the most. Especially when he tried to find a link between the Muggle and wizard world. He shook the thought, took a sip of his juice and looked around the bar for more familiar faces.