Headmaster Brockert

April 15, 2016 1:00 AM
Nothing, it seemed ever changed in Mortimer's life. His daughter-in-law, Amanda, Gene's wife, had just announced her pregnancy last week. At least, though, it wasn't Opal. In fact, after Amethyst's birth, Mortimer had had a talk with Zeke about not having any more kids, which had been awkward as can be.

However, since it was Gene and Amanda and it was their first, he supposed he could be happy about it, like most people were about having grandchildren-and really he shouldn't have been that surprised to constantly having grandchildren since he had five sons and they were more than old enough to do so. Besides, Amanda was overall less stupid than Opal. Not that that was saying much since Mortimer suspected there were actual opals that were smarter than his daughter-in-law of the same name.

And just as every other year, when the first years filed in, he stood and began to speak. "Welcome to Sonora for the new first years and welcome back for all older students. In just a minute,first years will be receiving a goblet distributed by Deputy Headmistress Skies, in order to sort you into your houses. You will turn the color representing your house which are blue for Aladren, yellow for Teppenpaw, red for Crotalus, and brown for Pecari. Afterwards, you may join your house table."

Of course, this year there were relatives among them, a Brockert girl and another girl who was Clifford Brockert's great-great-granddaughter or something. That wasn't anything new either, they just weren't that closely related to him. Next year his own granddaughter would be here.

Come to think of it, maybe it was good for things to be the same. When things weren't that meant they were going wrong and it was a lot of bull crap that he had to deal with. Then again, things had started normally when the Charms facility had malfunctioned and when the Satori had shown up, so it really didn't matter. It was just painfully repetitive.

After the first years had been sorted and found their tables, it was-like every year-time to announce Head Student and prefect. Mortimer picked up the official ballot and while his face naturally did not betray his inner emotions, he internally did a double take. This was certainly something new and different. "Would Duncan Brockert and Serena Brockert please come up and get your Head Student badges. In addition I'd like to call up John Umland, Aiden O'Neil, Makenzie Newell, and Joella Curtis to recieve their prefect badges. Congratulations." He was rather surprised really, no Brockert had won Head Student in over twenty years. There were those two girls whose grandmothers had been Brockerts but they themselves had been a Dobson and a Lennox. He thought the last person whose last name had actually been Brockert to win was actually Duncan's father but he wasn't really sure. It was hard to keep who was related how straight. His niece Alessa was as far he knew, the only one who could. Mortimer would be shocked if Clifford himself knew.

Anyway, he had one more announcement as they sat down. "This year's Midsummer event will be the ball and this year there will be theme, to be announced later.Now we will sing the school song." Though I am not sure why we bother.

Every day we strive
Learning to survive
Life’s hardships and to solve its mystery.
Learning to defend
Our honour and our friends,
Flying high to meet our destiny
We will stand and face those who want to harm us.
We won’t let the world transfigure, jinx or charm us
I won’t fight alone, as long as you are with me.
Sonora be my home, my tutor and my spirit
Vasita quoque floeat; Even the desert blooms.


With that, food appeared, students were free to converse, and he was free to enjoy his meal as well as a family victory.
Subthreads:
11 Headmaster Brockert Opening Feast 6 Headmaster Brockert 1 5


Jack Spencer

April 18, 2016 1:51 PM
It was absolutely dreadful having Lily here with him, but Jack was determined not to let it get to him. He was going to his routine and make more friends so Lily could see how popular he was. It was rather embarrassing to say he didn’t have a best friend or a group, really. Adam had Ginny and Francesca; Charlotte had Emrys; Jack didn’t have any one person in particular. If he ended up being the only one of his siblings to end up friendless he would stay in America out of embarrassment.

Despite it being his fourth year now, Jack still felt a bit queasy after the long ride and he stepped out, his lungs expanding to take in as much fresh air as possible. It felt nice to be on solid ground again and took a moment to let his body rest. Flying was nothing compared to riding in a wagon across the country, what with all the jostling and discomfort and lack of control. He gave Lily a brief lecture, one she didn’t respond well to - as typical of her - and saw her off to her first year orientation group. Jack was glad to have her off his hands, but he did hope she fit in. She was very outgoing and social, almost foolishly so. She would make friends easily.

Jack walked into Cascade Hall, famished and feeling much taller than last year. He sat down at the Aladren table and waited somewhat impatiently for the Headmaster to finish his speech and the sorting to take place. Jack imagined what house Lily would be in, but he didn’t hold his breath. All he knew was if the potion sorted her into his house, no one would be very happy.

As the sorting began, Jack watched, more focused than usual, and clapped with relief when Lily’s skin turned brown. He felt some sort of brotherly affection for her when she turned to his table, no doubt searching for him, but she quickly went to her table instead. There were moments when Lily wasn’t an annoying, bratty little witch. As few and far in between as they were, Jack appreciated those moments. Once the school song was sung and all the announcements taken care of, Jack turned to his meal, absolutely ravenous. He would worry about finding the appropriate date for the ball later; he had an entire year to think about who to ask.

Macaroni and cheese, platters of fried fish and green beans and grilled chicken - this was heavenly. Jack piled up his plate and snacked on dinner rolls as well as a side salad. It was very nice having enough food here to satiate his appetite. As he picked up the pitcher or pumpkin juice, he offered it to the person in front of him. “Would you like some?” he asked with a friendly smile. Though Lily might think him unsociable and quiet in comparison to her, Jack really wasn’t so unfriendly and not at all shy.
40 Jack Spencer I'm starving. 299 Jack Spencer 0 5


Madeleine Dautin

April 19, 2016 4:50 AM
Blue.

Madeleine blanched under her magically coloured skin and glanced towards the table where Bastien had gone only moments before, his skin quite nearly the furthest thing from blue. Was this some kind of sick joke? Perhaps if Bastien had joined her in Aladren it would have been okay—after all, Aladren was supposed to be the smart house and she certainly was proud of her brains, but instead they were separated and she was stuck…with Louis Valois. She felt as though she was going to cry. Which was, of course, completely ridiculous because Madeleine didn’t cry, crying was for weak and the lonely and the bourgeoise…well, alright, she supposed she did feel rather lonely but she was neither weak nor bourgeoise!

She blinked back the tears that threatened to spill forth and sat herself down at the table, suddenly feeling all the fight that she had in her leave in a gust of air. She and Bastien were supposed to be allies against the situation they had been forcibly stuck in against their will. And then the school had forced her to go and abandon him. At least she had abandoned him for Aladren and not Pecari, but it was still abandonment all the same and she was sure he would be furious with her.

Sitting at the table alone, unsure of herself, Madeleine lost all confidence that she’d had during the orientation when she’d been sure, so sure, that she and Bastien wouldn’t be separated. It wasn’t even that she liked him. Back home she never would have spared him a second glance, being much more interested in playing with Léo than the stuffy heir of the Évreux estate. But here it was different since he was a familiar face, a familiar tongue to communicate in. The brief walking tour of the school had been nice, she’d been able to rest her brain for a while and whisper with him and she had been looking forward to spending the Opening Feast in much the same manner. Now, however, she would have to exercise her brain--something she was not normally opposed to, but she was tired from all of the earlier English conversation with that one girl who, Madeleine had noted, had gone to Teppenpaw.

Her self-pitying thoughts were interrupted by an older student offering her a pitcher of some sort of beverage and Madeleine simply nodded her head, unable to discern that it was pumpkin juice since Maman didn’t allow the stuff in her house and since Madeleine herself didn’t particularly like it anyway. “Yes, thank you for asking,” she replied, her words a bit stiff and more formal than an eleven year old would normally speak. She wanted to wince upon hearing herself, but talking like Bastien was going to be the only thing to hold herself together. After all, she couldn’t cry. Not here.

She sipped tentatively at the cup, stomaching the awful flavour despite herself because she Could Not allow this school to defeat her anymore than it already had, and asked the older wizard to pass her some crudités, thinking that the tomato-cucumber salad was looking refreshing, especially with what looked to be a fresh vinaigrette and mozzarella on top. As she waited, she scanned the table and planned out the rest of her meal. After the vegetables she would take some roast chicken and asparagus, and then she would take a salade since she doubted there would be a cheese course and then she would hope for a halfway decent dessert, one that would be better than the over-frosted cupcakes from orientation.

It then occurred to her that the wizard had offered her the juice with a smile and was probably looking for someone to talk to and Madeleine, despite her deepest urges to melt into the background and just watch everyone, was not going to let the Dautin name go to shame and blatantly ignore someone who could very well be someone of importance from a family either she or Bastien were meant to be friendly with.

“Do you enjoy it here?” she asked, letting her voice take on the tone of someone full of wonder and slight worry, something appropriate for a young witch who found herself suddenly in a new country but not something that was overly homesick sounding; at least she hoped. “It’s so far away from home and so different too! But,” here she lowered her voice and let it sound slightly excited despite lying her face off. “It’s really beautiful, much more than I thought it would be!”

Glossary:
crudités - an appetizer course of raw vegetables, Madeleine probably would not have called it this to Jack but rather asked him to pass “that salad”

salade - French for lettuce, as crudités are for before the meal, the French take their “salade” which is simply plain lettuce with a bit of vinaigrette after their meals between the main course and the cheese course
10 Madeleine Dautin And I'm blue, in all sense of the word. 340 Madeleine Dautin 0 5


Jack

April 22, 2016 2:12 PM
It wasn’t ideal, talking to a first year, but Jack didn’t show it on his face. Making the best out of any situation was a must - not that he was desperate to make friends or anything. He poured her juice when she accepted and poured himself a glass. Pumpkin juice was his favourite beverage out of them all. If he could drink this entire pitcher he would. The witch asked him for something else and Jack passed it on cordially. He remembered his first year, spilling juice everywhere and getting angry at his fellow peer for knocking him. Not the brightest start to his social career.

Friends had never been difficult for Jack to make back home, but going back and forth from Arizona to London made it difficult to keep them. He didn’t know how his mates did it, keeping friends at home and abroad. One group Jack missed in particular were lads he’d met at one of the small hidden Quidditch pitches in the city that Adam had discovered. They were around his age, the lot, and they all got on rather well. It only lasted a summer, however, and during the winter holiday they were nowhere to be found. Off at school or on holiday, no doubt, and Jack thought it would be strange to post a letter to them.

The witch picked up the conversation, which Jack was glad she did before he could say anything else. “I enjoy it. Academically it’s challenging and the professors here are professional and teach creative lessons. Socially students differ year-by-year, but overall they’re kind enough. I suppose it might be a bit more difficult for muggle-borns to transition and prejudice around here, but isn’t it that way in our society already?” Jack didn’t have a sound opinion on the subject of Muggles and muggle-borns, but he wasn’t bothered by them as he hoped they weren’t bothered by him.

“It’s far from home for me too,” said the English wizard. “You’re from France?” If she said far and with her intonations he assumed her first language was not English nor was her accent American or English. “It’s all right to feel homesick, if you do. I miss London when I’m here, but you get used to it. I’m in my fourth year now and Sonora’s begun to feel more like home. Aladren is a brilliant house, better than the others, in my opinion.” It was the sort of conversation Jack had never imagined having with his little sister, but he was glad he could impart some wisdom on someone who was willing to listen.

As the third and middle child, Jack hardly got a word in whenever his family was together. Adam and Charlotte were successful and had loads of interesting things going on in their lives and Lily could chatter on and on. If he ever got angry with her, his parents would scold him. He thought he had some right to dislike her at least a little.

He wished he knew at least a little French to practise with her, but though his mother was fluent, Jack was not. He hadn’t cared for the language, not till now when it could potentially be useful. “I’m Jack Spencer,” he said. “What’s your name?” Maybe chatting with a first year wasn't that terrible.
40 Jack It's not that bad. 299 Jack 0 5


Madeleine

April 27, 2016 2:27 PM
Madeleine had never really formed an established opinion on muggle-borns as French wizarding society was both more closed off and, simultaneously, more open-minded than that of their puritan counterparts in either the U.K. or the U.S., but she had always been vaguely curious about them having never met one herself. So, at a risk of appearing to be too plouc for words in front of her native-English speaking conversation partner, she simply nodded her head in agreement, hoping that his observation was not false. She was glad, on the other hand, to hear that the older student found the school to be enjoyable and that he liked the courses. His accent placed him as English and therefore Madeleine wasn’t sure how much she trusted his opinion, but his opinion was still probably better than those of any of his American contemporaries.

She nodded again in response to his question about her home country, thinking rather privately that if this sort of communication kept up she would soon lose her head à la style de la Revolution. “I do miss it,” she elaborated, pulling just a little bit more on the ‘lost child’ card since apparently it appealed to the other wizard’s sensibilities. “I hope it’ll feel more like home soon, but I don’t think it ever will.” Although her tone was forlorn and could be taken to mean that she was worried to never feel at home there, she was of the sound opinion that nothing would ever match up to France.

But at least this sagely wizard seemed to think their house was the best house. It did make her feel a little better about being stuck with Louis and without Bastien who, from the looks of it, had all but forgotten about her as he talked with another red-coloured student. Madeleine tried to repress the rage that threatened to boil up inside her at the site and smiled at the older student instead. “That’s good at least, and one of the colours are blue, like Beauxbatons so maybe that’s one step further in the direction of home.”

It was kind of a silly remark, the sort that Madeleine often had to herself but would never actually say out-loud to anyone since she was well-aware how idiotic and simple it could make someone sound and she was definitely no bécasse. However, she was enjoying playing the roll of a wide-eyed, curious foreigner although she knew that once she was in class and among her new classmates she would have to step it up a little since there was no way she could let her classmates for the next seven years think poorly of the intellectual level of the French people. However here, on her first night in a new country, at a school she wasn’t supposed to be at, that she didn’t even want to be in, with an older student who seemed to be keen on giving advice Madeleine thought she could afford to sound young and naive. Just for one night.

She was grateful when the older boy offered her his name so she didn’t have to keep referring to him in her head as various ambiguous titles and smiled in return. “Madeleine Dautin,” she replied, resisting the urge to bob down in a slight curtsy the way she would have had she been meeting Jack in front of adults at one of the functions she was sometimes dragged to. She didn’t feel the need to tack on ‘of France’ as they had already established at an earlier point in their conversation that she was from another country just as they had establish Jack’s residency in England.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she continued, trying to go through the list of names she had been made to memorise of influential families who went to Sonora, wondering if Jack belonged to one that she and Bastien were meant to interact with. Pretending at the same time that she was at a gala, surveying the room for a new lead in some sort of case against stopping international crime now that she was more at ease.

The daring Flora Deschamps makes a risky move, talking with the dodgy Englishman in the open, she imagined. Flora knows the risks involved with such blatant conversation, but she knows it is a necessary move if she wants to know who really kidnapped Finland’s Minister of Magic. She is certain it is a conspiracy on the part of the Russians to upset the delicate trade relations between Finland and France and the very peace of her nation is at risk!

Glossary:
plouc - slightly offensive term for any French person not from Paris, meant to imply stupidity
bécasse - literally a woodcock, not literally a slightly offensive term for a simple woman, also a plouc
10 Madeleine It's okay, it's nothing that Flora can't handle. 340 Madeleine 0 5