Molly Weasley's Story

((Okay, so I thought we'd start in the end of October. They've been in school for about two monthes, the first capture will happen in a few days. On of my characters, Lysander, is going to be the first one captured. I'll also temporarily be playing his twin, Lorcan. We'll start on a Saturday, day of a Quidditch game between Gryffindor and Slytherin, as they are the two most inhabited by our characters. If you wish for your character to be on the House team, be my guest. I'll keep a "roster" list so we know what positions are full. If you want to be captain, you must be at least in sixth year.))


She's in a room of white, the only one there, aside from a few animate blobs of color. The colors seem to correspond with the houses of Hogwarts, but the green of Slytherin is generally absent from the room. She ponders this inexplicable absense meekly. The room is lighted by some unknown source, as there are no furniture, windows, or doorways. A black shadow begins to appear on the opposite wall. It comes closer.... Closer... Even closer... And then it's in the room. It has the vague form of a person, with a fuzzt outline, although she cannot pick out features, gender, or age of the newcomer. The shadow merges with the colorful blob, and she feels an inexplicable sense of wrongness. But the shadow soon extracts itself, pulling along an especially small blue blob, which seems to fight. They walk into the wall, and are gone...

Lily Luna awoke with a start. Enough with these dreams! she screeches, inside her own head of course. If anyone knew... Well, they would think something was wrong. They wouldn't leave her alone. Dad would freak, Mum would pull him from the room to calm him, tell him that he's over reacting, to quit babying his only daughter. But who knew? Perhaps something was wrong. Perhaps she did need help. These dreams were not normal. They recurred for days, and then something would happen that seemed to fulfill the dream.

Lily had often wondered if she could be a Seer, despite the lack of the Inner Eye from her ancestors. Indeed, she had taken Divination this year for that very reason, despite her Aunt's warning about Trelawny. Lily wished meekly that she would have taken Aunt Hermione's advice. But it was too late now. No use crying over spilled potion, that was for sure, even if Trelawny was a big phony, even if Divination was a joke. It didn't help at all, it only made Lily hope she wasn't a Seer.

Climbing out of bed, Lily knelt over her trunk, extracting a scarlet Quidditch robe. She smiled down at it pleasurably. The first game of the year had come, and she couldn't wait. The thrill of the game was addicting, the joy of winning naseating in a pleasant way. She had played Chaser since second year, her first year of elgibility. Everyone had always said she was lucky both her parents were such excellent Quidditch players, that she was guranteed to be a skilled athlete. But Lily refused to believe that her gift had not come from hardwork and determination. She shaped who she was, she worked towards the goal, not her parents.

Slinging her Firebolt over her shoulder, Lily started downstairs, out of the common room. As usual before Quidditch games, the common room was filled with eager students, excited to get down onto the pitch. Lily's broom was a hand-me-down from her mother, from her years playing as a professional Chaser on the Holyhead Harpies. That was before Lily had been born, though she longed to have seen it. She looked up to her mother, even if she could be a daddy's girl when it suited her.

Lily slid onto a bench at the Gryffindor House table, helping herself to some scrambled eggs and bacon. she pushed her red ponytail out of her face, sipping from a glass of milk. Lily had never been one for juice, which confused her friends. But she just didn't like it. What else was there to say?

The Slytherin's were being poor sports as usual, jeering and booing from their table. Rolling her eyes, Lily stood on her seat and turned to face them. Gicing a mocking smile, she waved to them. Most laughed, but a few of the younger ones reddened and busied themselves with their food. Lily smirked to herself, but sat back down. McGonagell had beenglaring her way.

Emauntro DaVilese stepped onto the rotating staircase out of the headmaster's office. He wouldn't waste his time on Quidditch, but his colleagues would suspect something if he didn't attend the game. They looked at him as a good-natured man, calm, quaint, understanding, and caring. In a way, he supposed he was. But in another, he knew he was just the opposite.

Aside from that, all of the studetnts would, surely, be down on the pitch this morning. They lived for the sport, and didn't hide it, didn't even try to, it seemed. DaVilese needed to pin his first target, and needed to inspect the students in order to do so. Who's disappearence would cause the least commotion? Who's exclusion would go practically unnoticed? It was hard to investigate during classes, even in mealtime, but Emauntro had a vague idea of what kind of student he wanted. Quiet, shy, practically friendless.

As he strode into the crowded Hall, he noticed a redhead girl perched on a seat, acting towards the Slytherins as though she were a show they were watching, and she knew it. DaVilese had long since crossed the girl off his list. She seeked attention, and the teachers loved her. Her disappearance would wreak havoc even without her famed parentage. Besides, from what he had heard about the girl's mother, she would burst into the school, cursing everyone in the way until she found her daughter.

DaVilese sat in the center of the High Table, McGonagell to his right. She was eyeing him hard, and he winced. He might be headmaster, but that woman was like a vulture. Flat out scary. "Whatever is it, Professor?" She pursued her lips, her response primp. "You didn't say anything to her." Emauntro furrowed his brow. "Who - You mean the Potter girl?" A stiff nod from the Transfiguration teacher. Emauntro shrugged. "She's not doing anything wrong, just being a child. We can't punish people for everything. They have the right to act their age." McGonagell sighed. "I suppose you're right. You understand the children, Emauntro. That's why you were the right person for the job." "Why, thank you, Minerva."

Lysander sat at the Ravenclaw House table, pushing his cereal around with his spoon distractedly. He didn't feel like eating, but he knew he should try to eat something. On the other hand, Mother had insisted that it was unhealthy to not eat breakfast, that it was the best - and only - way to start one's day on the right foot. And one shouldn't start the day off on the left foot, that just wasn't right. Lysander supposed he understood, but all the same....

A poke in the shoulder. Lysander turned to the left to see his twin brother Lorcan eyeing him with a twinkling look. "You gonna eat?" Lysander shrugged, which earned him an elbow in the ribs. "Come on, Sander. Finish up." Lysander pushed his bowl away. "I'm just not hungry, Lor." Lorcan grinned, pulling his brother's bowl in front of him. "Why didn't you say so?" Lysander watched his brother down the cereal in a few seconds.

Lysander sighed. He and his brother were like night and day, even if they were twins and looked alike. He never ate much, Lorcan was always hungry. He was shy, Lorcan outgoing. He was shy, Lor extremely popular for a first year. All the same, he and his brother got along well enough. Sander supposed this was due to the opposite personalities. If one couldn't do something, the other could. Simple as that.