There is a teeny tiny kitten wandering the streets of London. One street in particular, in fact. A certain wizard has been known to walk down this street, heading towards a certain wizarding home. Hmm. Perhaps this certain wizard will see this poor, lost, hungry little kitty and take her home?
John is hanging out in the Owlry! He is sending a letter. His once-a-month letter to his parents saying 'hey I'm still alive no worries.'He is also giving his own treats.
There are three students waking up -- slowly -- in the Room of Requirement. Two Hufflepuffs and a Gryffindor. Donna stirs a little, and shifts over, cuddling up to Quill.
Quill, devilishly sneaky thing that he is, has managed to completely avoid both Donna and John for nearly four days now. Far too distracted to manage the complex rumor-mill that he's established over the years, reasons for this avoidance vary wildly among those prone to such malicious gossip. One popular one is that Donnatella caught Quill spying on her in the shower, told John, and now the both of them want to hex him into something small and slimy. Another is similar, except it was John he was supposedly peeping on. Thankfully, Quill is oblivious to such rumors, although that very obliviousness is cause for yet still more rumors, considering there hasn't been a single bit of juicy gossip he has not been immediately apprised of since his third year.But for once, Quill has more important things to worry about than what the latest news is. Things like making himself presentable without running into...anyone he doesn't particularly want to run into. Skipping History of Magic to nip into his room for clean robes and such is, therefore, a perfectly logical decision. And if he happens to sit on the bed and mope for a while after he changes, who's business is that of anyone but his? No ones, that's whose.
John is sitting out on the grounds by the lake again. With a bottle of whiskey.While this is not suprising in the least, it is noteable that he is sitting, doing arithmacy, and drinking considerably.
John is sitting on a flight of stairs, textbook open in his lap.Potions, it would seem. He's not really paying attention to what it says.But then, he never really does. John isn't fond of potions.Which could be why he's not doing well and needs a tutor in the subject.
I'm starting study hall sessions again, for sixth and seventh year students. Anyone with questions about their homework is welcome. This does not, however, mean that I will give you all the answers.
Some outside Hufflepuff House, particularly those first years who have had the unfortunate experience of crossing him, say that Klarion Horne isn't human--that he's a boggart, or some bizarre male veela, or a dragon turned into stone, recarved into human shape, and changed back to flesh.None of it, of course, is true: Klarion is human, if one with an occasional bit of a vindictive streak. However, to maintain his appearance as such takes careful work--and so, every morning, he takes the time to apply the trademark dark rifts around his eyes, and slick his hair back, teasing the 'horns' out of it.This being a weekend, he's slept in rather late, and so is only just now contemplating his typical cosmetics.
The mild-mannered reporter Colin Clark is sneaking onto the grounds of Hogwarts.This is because he is mild-mannered, and so badgered into it by his boss, and a reporter for an almost-tabloid newspaper, and so this is pretty much his job.He's doing remarkably well so far, if only because he's been smart enough to wear properly camouflaging clothing for the expedition.
Rochefort sits in his office, ignoring the quiet chatter of the portraits of past Headmasters around him. If anyone wishes to bother him, now's a good time.