b&w - sad

September 13th, 1978 - Narrative

September 13, 1978
7:11 am
east end of London, Bridget's apartment

It was probably safe to say that Severus had had no idea what his note to Varian would bring. He certianly hadn't expected to have his fears confirmed from the source itself. Almost three hours after he'd started the conversation, and he had been sitting here on the floor in Bridget's living room for nearly a half hour after the last message, head buried in his arms on the coffee table as everything that had been said between them ran through his head, over and over.

It was all well and good to be angry over what happened, and he had expected that. But what he hadn't expected was the overwhelming feeling of crushing sadness and hurt and disappointment he felt. Here he had been hoping that, for once in his life, he had been wrong about something, that his fears were unfounded - and then, not only did Varian tell him that he was right, but the man had then proceeded to try and make him think it was his fault it had happened in the first place.


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Hrm

Tuesday, September 6, 1978

8:55 am

Frank Longbottom walked at a suitable pace as he moved down the hallway and then turned the corner (right) to head towards one of many classrooms this section of the Ministry had. He glanced at his watch, his eyebrows went up slightly as he tried to read it, and then squinted. For someone who was far sighted, Frank only really wore his glasses when reading, or to look sexy for the sexy sexy ladies. He paused at a relfective window of someone's empty office and admired his reflection, sweeping his hand through his longish hair, making the bangs sweep back and stick up a little more. He then licked his fingertip and thumb and swept them across his eyebrows.

"Oh yeeeahh..." he then pointed his fingers like a gun at the window. "Cool!" He said, using, again, that new phrase he picked up from the students in France. That was, before they were attacked, and one died. Frank tilted his head and stared off at a space on the wall as he let his mind wander back, reliving only seconds of that event before he was snapped back into reality.

It was...well Frank didn't know his name. He was an old old old bearded man with a slouch who cleaned the hallways, in charge of the house-elves that helped maintain order in the depths of the Ministry.

"Well, aren't we all spiffy and purty today, Nancy." The old man said, his long white beard dangling to the floor and he laughed a hissing laugh because he lacked teeth.

"My name's Frank-" Frank stated for probably the hundreth time since he started at the Ministry.

"Nancy. What a pretty name. I see your boobies have almost grown in," and the old man took a sweeping look at Frank's chest and then made another hissing throaty laugh as he moved down the hallway. Frank, in the meantime, has consciously grabbed the edges of his work robe and closed them in front, as if protecting his fair-weather chest. He walked away quickly, taking peeking glances down at his front, at his vest and properly done-up tie, at his trousers and semi-scuffed dress shoes. He looked back, eye-balling the old man before yanking open the door of the classroom.

"Sorry sir, the janitor was talking to me and I'm la-" Frank started saying immediatly as he stepped into the room, and then paused. The teacher's desk was empty, and so were the student desks. Even the corner that Ted Tonks sat was vacant, and then Frank noticed the lights were off. "Oookay..." He said outloud, to no one.
b&w - sad

September 5th, 1978 - Journal

September 5th, 1978
11:52 pm
Bridget's flat, London, England

I wasn't going to write in this again today. I felt the need to. My week is looking up slightly. All I need to do now is talk to a couple friends and make sure they're ok some plans to get together at some point so we can catch up, and then maybe things won't look so grim.

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Tuesday September 6th Early Morning Press

ATTACKS IN PARIS LEAD THE INTERNATIONAL COMMUNITY INTO A PANIC OVER POSSIBLE TIES BETWEEN THOSE AND THE ONES RECORDED IN ENGLAND

Yesterday morning explosions rocked the Parisian Wizarding community leaving several dead and countless other injured. One woman reported that it was like the end of days were upon them. It is though that the attacks involved members of the organization known as the Death Eaters who have been illusively terrorizing England. Though no arrests have been made preliminary information suggests that there was possibly an Auror present at the attack. The Ministry had been unavailable for comment, but suffice to say questions will be asked and answered demanded as more of the story unfolds.