September 1st, 1895 — Slytherin Common Room
Dress

It had been so long since Dorothy had been to the castle, but the Slytherin dungeons had barely changed. She almost felt like a young woman again, until she glanced into one of the mirrors and caught sight of her much-changed reflection. She sighed lightly, shook her well-coifed head to dispel the memories, and straightened the sugar spoon on one of the tea trays she'd set out earlier before moving towards the common room entrance.

The house elves had done an acceptable job, bringing a variety of wonderful teas hot and ready down to the common room — even a spiced chai that Dorothy was positively itching to try — while the Sorting Ceremony had come and gone. Dorothy had left before the end of the feast, to ensure that she was ready to greet the students as they arrived to the Slytherin common room.

She was waiting by the entrance when the first years entered. "Welcome to Slytherin House," she said, her tone warm and welcoming. "I am Mrs. Price, the new matron."

Open to any and all Slytherins; first years (and prefect) are just arriving.

  

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beauty by KELLY

Perdita couldn't believe how much time had flown by; how is this possible? The lingering moments of the summer months were long gone, and now she is a Seventh Year. While this is a new school year, this meant that she had to study for N.E.W.T. exams; oh, what fun it was going to be.

As her shoes hit the pavement of the lower level of Hogwarts, making her way to the Slytherin Dungeon, nothing about it changed. It was the same as it always was during the past few years that she had gone to the school. Her eyes had gazed upon what seemed to be the elderly woman who appeared to be greeting any younger students who were new to Slytherin; she thought she heard the woman introduce herself as 'Mrs. Price,' though she wouldn't have been too surprised if her ears deceived her.

Perdita lightly curtsied. "Good day," she said. She paused for a moment before carrying on the conversation, "My name is Miss Perdita Bloomfield. It's a pleasure to finally meet a new face at Hogwarts."

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Dorothy Price

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   Dorothy Price

Sorting was over, it had been an interesting experience. Between the strange outburst from Silas Merlion and the thing with the Ravenclaw girl it had been entertaining. She made a mental note to speak to Mr. Merlion at some point though, he had seemed decent enough and she might help mould him just a little. Time for that later.

"Jocasta Flint, Miss." she said with a courtesy. "Its a pleasure to make your acquaintance." she meant that sincerely. As much as she was unsure how much she would need a matron, it was good to see this woman had a few more years on her than some of the others. Between her and their Head of House they must have nearly 200 years, that was most proper. It didnt do to be entrusting your one chance at a proper magical education entirely to people younger than one's own father.

"Will Professor Valenduris be joining us?" she asked politely.

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Dorothy Price Perdita Bloomfield

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   Dorothy Price, Perdita Bloomfield, Silas Merlion

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Anne was never disappointed by the antics that happened at Sorting. Granted, her first year, she'd been the one in tears because the Hat threw her to the snakes in the dungeon. Now it was dinner and a show, as far as Anne was concerned.

She held back to greet her friends, bouncing around to the three other tables for the few people she thought worth making a fuss over on their first night. She was still laughing at something ridiculous Antelope as she broke off to join the sea of green flowing into Slytherin House. Anne lasted all of five seconds before she picked her way through the gawking children clogging up the corridor.

Finally pushing her way into the common room, Anne noticed the smell of something spicy, something that smelled more interesting than tea. "You lot better not be setting anything on fire. It's still the first night." Anne moved toward the fire and stopped short when she saw an old woman she didn't recognize and her heart sank. Not another old woman with nothing better to do than pick at hemlines and harp on manners. Anne didn't have time for that. Still, it wouldn't do to be rude.

Anne gave a slight nod of her head; curtseying was for people like the fancy first year. Anne didn't go simpering like that without reason. "Anne Moony, sixth year and captain. I'm also president of potions club." It would be rude to tell someone's grandmother they were unneeded, but Anne hoped that by making it clear she'd done perfectly well without someone fussing over her hemlines, she could save herself and the new woman plenty of frustration.

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   Dorothy Price, Jocasta Flint

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MJ about made me cry with this one!
Thread Log | Help Anne Blame the DJ

Goodness, there were a lot of them. Dorothy tried to keep up the smile, but she was intimidated. She had no doubt she could handle it, but seeing them all at once, in a smaller space, was just a touch overwhelming. Still, she couldn't let it show.

"It's a pleasure to be back in the castle, Miss Bloomfield," she replied eagerly to the eldest girl to approach her. "I haven't been back in the dungeons since I left them for the coming out ball." Which was over sixty years ago, now, but who's counting?

She turned to the first year who approached, smiled, and said neatly, "I am most flattered but I am indeed a Mrs., not a Miss, Miss Flint. As for Professor Valenduris, I admit, I am unsure if he will be joining us." She didn't add that she knew Meserimus was older than her mother.

Then there was Miss Moony. Dorothy's expression grew a bit stony as the sixth year announced her titles. Of course. Dorothy knew of the Moony family. With a mother like that, of course Miss Moony thought Quidditch appropriate. Her position as potions club president was respectable enough, but Dorothy got the point. "You've done quite well for yourself, Miss Moony," she said, her tone steely but smooth. "Perhaps we might chat about potions at some point. I do consider myself something of a hobbyist."

There was more she wanted to say, of course, but she held her tongue. It wouldn't do to antagonize.

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   Anne Moony, Perdita Bloomfield

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beauty by KELLY

Morgan had followed the stream of her housemates the moments they were released to leave the feast - as happy to disappear amongst them all as a snake would’ve been to disappear in the tall grass - and had let the conversation of her dormmates flow over head as they caught up after the holidays.

She had been rather pleased at the fact that this year was another year that the booming Valenduris' family did not cause a stir at the Hogwarts Feast. She wondered if she ought to feel grateful to the muggleborn boy - Silas was it? The First year's outburst would surely remove all memory from the student body of the other commotion her sisters had caused in her first year. She was beginning to finally feel as if the incidents in her first year were behind her and with her most... eccentric... sibling now settled at home and the other less likely to cause a disruption to Morgan's rather detailed plans for her future Morgan's only real obstacles were now what they ought to have been all along: Herself. Perhaps she was being hopeless optimistic or perhaps she was just being caught up in the euphoria that coming back to Hogwarts gave her but she was certainly ready to settle back into her regular routines and spend time at a place and with people she liked.

This year of course would be different - she was now a third year and taking subjects that would prepare her for her OWLs at the end of her fifth year and was no longer one of the babies of the school.

As the door opened again to let the tiniest children in the school she glanced towards the welcoming matron - a different one from her first two years - and would've entirely chosen to go back to her dormmates discussions had not the President of the Potions Club made an appearance. Morgan began to pick her way towards her. Questions already bubbling on the tip of her tongue. She held them in however and hovered. Not wanting to interrupt what was clearly a conversation that she didn't yet feel comfortable putting herself in the middle of.

Her fathers name was mentioned - but that was a given - she had assumed his absence now was simply due to his duties as Deputy or in relation to the first year Silas. Perhaps he was giving the first year the proper talk which seemed to have been neglected by the other teacher? Or... perhaps he was scolding the other teacher for failing to give said talk properly in a way that would've prevented the student from causing such an outburst at the feast.

Blasphemy indeed.

She noted too the change in the womans' expression and tone as she interacted with Miss Moony - a change from the eagerness and the smiles she'd given Miss Bloomfield and Flint and as determined as she was to keep an open mind about the woman until she got to know her better she wondered what exactly had gone through her mind to cause such a reaction. Was she a classist? A purist? Or perhaps she was simply one of those traditional women who believed women ought not to play Quidditch and other traditional masculine things. She hoped she was overthinking things and simply being too empathetic and as she was never a fan of conflict at the best of times Morgan found the urge to wring her hands and stopped herself and clasped her hands nervously together instead. She hoped she was wrong because her mind was already catastophising the chaos that issues between the matron and the Potions President would cause.

Would it be too forward now to interrupt? She wanted to discuss with her the ingredients she'd gathered from her own (and her parents) gardens - over the summer and the potions they could possibly make with them - she'd even bought enough to donate. If she did now would be the best time as potions had been bought up... however she hung back still.

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   Silas Merlion

Jocasta blushed slightly at the unwelcome correction, she must be more careful. "My apologies, Mrs. Price. I shall remember that." Joy's heart fluttered a little at the mention of setting the dorm alight, but she said nothing about the subject. The taller girl was clearly joking but she could not help but have those words trigger her fears just a little, they were in a dungeon, if there was a fire they would have no escape. She found herself involuntarily looking at the windows wondering how tough the old glass was.

"Mrs Price, I have noted that the castle has several unrestrained ghosts. Might I enquire if there is any forbiddance in place to prevent them entering our chambers?" for all her feelings of fear around fire, they were matched by her feelings of hatred towards ghosts. If they were not already forbidden from the dorms she would have to quickly gather the reagents to cast her own. At least, the version of one that the child had found in a book in the Paris library that had been so far untested by actual ghosts.

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Dorothy Price Morgan Valenduris Anne Moony Perdita Bloomfield

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   Morgan Valenduris

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