#nox.event002

[blondsnake]

“ it’s really weird to be back, “ draco admitted quietly, hands shoved in pockets. his eyes avoided other’s, especially students ━ TOO RECENTLY HAD HE BEEN ONE OF THEM, and not much besides his friendship with the slytherin gang was was something he wanted to remember. he let out a light, breathless laugh. “ i think i saw a body right there, “ he said, toneless, chin pointed in the direction.

[agrngrss]

location: hogwarts grounds

astoria’s frozen in place, her body refusing to move as a chill runs up her spine. there’s commotion all around her, bodies crashing into hers as they try to escape the grounds. she’s always been the type of person to run, not away but towards something, be it safety or danger, or anything. however, her feet remain in place, eyes staring up at the dark mark emblazoned onto the sky with horrifed disbelief. she can’t help but grab someone, anyone to tell her that this wasn’t happening – not again. she had been brave the first time, but she doesn’t think she has it in her to fight another war. she’s pleading with her eyes, wanting them to tell her that everything would be okay, “what’s happening?”

[noxtms]

❝ SIX YEARS AGO, dozens of our allies laid down their lives in the battle that brought about the end of the ( second wizarding war ) : and so, too, life as we had come to know it. there is not a single member of our community alive today who did not lose someone, then. who did not know someone who fought... courageously, until the last, for a future they couldn’t know existed - but that we ALL have the immense privilege to be living. we honor, with our MEMORIAL, the boy who lived and died for us, and our comrades. our friends and family and every stranger there was, who entered these grounds on may 2nd, 2014, to fight a fight that they did not know we would triumph in. we owe them EVERYTHING, and would be remiss to forget it - ❞

WHO, WHAT, WHEN, WHERE :  

the memorial for the battle of hogwarts, fought valiantly by wizarding persons and beings alike on MAY 2ND, 2014, is held every year upon hogwarts school grounds. it’s a beautifully and tastefully done event, that is pulled together, rain or shine, and opens the school to more than just the current roster of students. from friday afternoon to monday morning, the many who took part in the battle in some sense are invited by the professors of hogwarts to pay homage to those lost. it’s a rather somber affair, there’s no denying : though many gather in hogsmeade on the first night to share a round of drinks, there’s no escaping the weight of the remembrance ceremony that is held on castle grounds the morning of the 2nd. a feast inside the castle follows, where for one night, the tables are simply abandoned ; black curtains decorate the walls and candles fly overhead and ricket tables and chairs have either been conjured in place or dragged by filch out to scattered positions, open mingling encouraged - and expected. it continues well past when the current students are gone to bed, and the next day is one of... quiet reflection. HOGWARTS WAS HOME, once ; on sunday, survivors are allowed to simply exist. the only expectation is that they attend the goodbye ceremony that final night ; when everyone gathers once more on the grounds to raise their wands and send light floating to the sky. 

OUT OF CHARACTER:

this is it, folks ! the first BIG event for noxtms couldn’t be anything but the memorial for the battle that has so shaped the rp, and i hope that over the next week you all get involved and enjoy it - even if i’m sure it won’t be as enjoyable for our characters.

those attending have a choice of availing of guest quarters in a far wing of hogwarts castle, or a room in one of the handful of inns in hogsmeade. though it falls during a school term, classes are suspended for the friday for all students and they are instructed, for the most part, to stay out of visitors way- which they respect, also for the most part. there is a stifling sense of community, during these events, and there tends not to be trouble. 

the event will be beginning on friday ( may 1st ) at 6:00pm GMT / 11:00am PST / 12:00pm MST / 1:00pm CST / 2:00pm EST / 3:30pm NST and running for about a week. this may change based on wider involvement, but you’ll be let know in advance if it does ! 

many of our characters would be widely expected to attend, so i highly encourage everyone be involved in some capacity ( though if you really CAN’T imagine your character attending, then that’s okay ). this is our first MAJOR event, so while you’re welcome continue threads, no non-event starters should be posted during the event times. 

speaking of event starters ; they should be tagged with nox.event002 ! you have the wide range of choice that comes with an event based at hogwarts & hogsmeade, but should specify in your starters which point of the event you’re setting them, such as : DAY : friday / saturday / sunday or TIME : friday evening / etc.

if you have ANY questions or concerns, please do not hesitate to message the main ! please reply to this post with ‘lumos’ once you’ve read it ! 

[lildiggory]

nellie really thought she’d be fine coming back to hogwarts. it’s been six years since the battle, eight since cedric. SHE JUST SO HAPPENED TO USUALLY BE COUNTRIES AWAY WHEN THE MEMORIAL CAME AROUND. not this year, though. she really thought things would be fine. evidently not. she sat in quidditch pitch, staring blankly ahead, unbothered by the tears that went down her cheeks. she snapped out of it when she heard footsteps. “ no offense, really none, love, “ her tone was casual, but her voice was wrecked. she sounded so small, AND LOOKED IT TOO, arms curled around her knees as she rocked lightly back and forth. “ but could you perhaps get out of here ? “

[petriichvrs]

𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍:   hogwarts grounds   ! 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄:   friday   !

FRED WEASLEY. 1993 - 2014. she followed the curves of the engraving with the featherlight touch of her fingertips, to which she had pressed the gentlest of kiss before even daring to touch. a lump had formed in ginny’s throat sometime since arrival, and seemed only to grow the longer that she stood there. by the time she had pulled her hand back from the cold stone of the fallen fifty memorial, she was forced to swallow thickly and blink a few times, rapidly, just to avoid what that rise of emotions in her chest would inevitably do to her. out here in public was simply not the place to fall apart - and fred would have mocked her endlessly for the fact that she had even come so close. this thought alone has the power to bring a RUEFUL sort of smile to her lips, the only kind that she can give -

it disappears completely when, after scanning the rest of the names written in stone, ginny’s gaze finds the one engraved largest at the start.

HARRY JAMES POTTER. 1996 - 2014. the boy who lived died. his is the only name with a horribly ironic epitaph ; and the ONLY one that she comes across with the hastily written graffiti scrawled beneath. something in ginny rises, and it is not the emotion that fred’s name had brought to the surface, but something far more vicious. WHITE HOT like a fireplace poker that had been resting too long within flame, she forgets formality, forgets that she is in public, forgets that she has an IMAGE ( and a wand ) - “bastards-“ she hisses, pushing red hair from her reddening face and beginning to scrub, furiously, with her sleeve- “UNGRATEFUL whelps. BASTARDS !”

[kngweasley]

may 3rd, 2020 - moments after the dark mark appears in the sky.

Chaos descends on the castle ground as the crowd realizes, almost all at once, the symbol formed by the darkening clouds in the sky. Ron has goosebumps. It has been years since he has seen the wretched sight of the Dark Mark, the insignia of the fallen Tom Riddle and his heinous supporters. He hates what he sees but cannot look away. He is frozen, head tilted up towards the sky. Only the force of the crowd bumping into him brings his attention back to Earth. People are just blurs as they brush past, trying to escape, trying to find loved ones. One face becomes clear in the crowd. Ron moves towards them, grabbing their arm. “You should leave. Now.”

[pansy-pansy]

Time: Saturday evening, the feast

Pansy wasn’t sure she should be here. It felt wrong to be here, because she’d practically switched sides last minute. Not that she’d ever actually been a Death Eater, but her best friend had been and so had other friends’ parents. She was as close as a person could get without actually being related to one. Was her proximity a strike against her? Did her decision to fight against Voldemort outweigh that? She felt like she didn’t deserve to be here. She wasn’t a war hero, she just did what she felt was right in the moment. Would people question the fact that she was here? Because she’d run away to France (and then 7 other countries), this was the first time she was able to attend. And this was a memorial. She’d only lost one person in the battle, Crabbe, and despite his friendship with Draco, the two had never really been friends.

She almost hadn’t come. She had packed and repacked her bag 3 times before finally deciding that it would look worse if she didn’t go now that she was back in the country. So, here she was, sitting alone at one of the many tables in the Great Hall. Or, she was alone, until someone pulled out one of the chairs across from her. “Evening,” she said solemnly.

[noxtms]

time isn’t wasted when it comes to the GOODBYE CEREMONY. memorial weekend is overwrought with emotion, and no one is entirely themselves by the time the final night rolls around. it’s a part of the event, but no one is exactly cheery - and however lovely the gesture of light is, there is, this year especially, a distinct feeling of wanting to be done with it as quick as possible from those that gather on the hogwarts grounds. 

the speech is much the same as the one at the rememberance ceremony. headmistress mcgonagall says a few words - directing some to the survivors, to their friends and family, to the students and the professors, and to the HOGSMEADE villagers that make the trek every year - but all too soon ( and yet not soon enough, for some ) instructs the able to take out their wands and raise them to the sky. the first years are taught the spell to create the individual orbs in the first month, now, in preparation.

“alea iacta est.” at first, the voice goes almost unnoticed. the words are little more than a whisper, and headmistress mcgonagall’s earlier warnings to those who might have deigned to interrupt the ceremonial event were severe enough that only a single first year takes their eyes from the front of the gathered crowd to crane their neck and search for a source. they find their gaze drawn to a woman they’ve yet to encounter, in lessons : tiny mirrored beads sown onto her robes giving the impression of a thousand glittery stars as the light from wands being lit around her reflect off of them. her wild hair is flecked with grey, and her ancient looking glasses magnify her eyes to such an extent that it is discerning... and all the easier to see the way in which they seem to be, not blue, or brown, or green - but a milky, endless white - color covered, perhaps, or simply rolled to the back of her skull. the first year gasps and grabs her friends robes - 

“the lamb shall lie with the lion,” the woman’s whole body seems to convulse as she speaks, voice strange in a way that cannot be explained, for it is not one voice that sounds but a dozen - each of them unique in inflection yet similar in their raspy undertone. it shouldn’t be POSSIBLE. wands are raising around them, now, but this tiny ( growing ) gaggle of first years are frozen in place, and their stillness is all the more obvious in a crowd of MOVEMENT. “and the lion shall feast upon the lamb. and there will come a day as dark as night...”

sybill trelawney’s companion, the much more recognizible professor flitwick, only takes real note of her as her hand rises to grip his shoulder tightly with a grasp that proves UNBREAKABLE. she does not look to him, nor to the students that are beginning to look to her - she seems not to notice them entirely. “when death will mark a new equal, though alone they are not. and wise is he who looks ahead... as to go forth is to go back - for only once lost may the lost be found.”

wands are beginning to lower. whispers erupt. headmistress mcgonagall has no trouble spotting the point in the SEA of gathered bodies where there seems to be trouble, and briskly begins making her way through - mouth twisted in a way that would make even older students nervous. lights begin to rise from the lifted wands into the sky, the ceremony undisturbed by and large. minerva arrives full of fire and ready to drag the culprit of their interruption away by the ear, so help her : until she breaks through the distanced circle of enthralled first years and discovers the scene. “and he who lived once shall live twice and lived twice, thrice... and in the middle of all things, the one eyed man will find himself king.”

anyone taking note of headmistress mcgonagall’s expression in that moment would have seen, not anger at the interruption, nor confusion at what’s happening before her. for a long moment, minerva mcgonagall simply looks the way that half of the tiny gathering feels : fearful. she finds her composure QUICKLY ( it is bad enough that filius cannot hide the pain from sybill’s nails digging into his shoulder ). 

“shadow will lift from the kingdom of the blind and with the light shall come a new empire... an empire without end.” minerva thinks, perhaps, it’s a containable event. she moves forward, now, with purpose, reaching out to grab sybill’s elbow and escort her through the distracted while the others continue the ceremony, and is almost knocked off of her feet completely as the other woman lets go of filius and grabs her by her robes : misty eyes focusing upon her but not possibly seeing, grip vice like, voice more urgent now than it has ever been. “tremble... for the dark shall lift but the light will fall... vita ante acta.” 

and sybill goes limp before her, filius only barely managing to stop her from tumbling to the ground.

and there is a gasp -

and then, there is a SCREAM.

minerva twists around, her eyes scanning the crowd. there is an undeniable buzz of activity, now, as the crowd begin to react to what to her, is the unseeable. the sea begins to move, no organization, just blind panic, and wands are falling, all around, and the light that was streaming into the sky - wands are falling, all around, and the sea is beginning to move : no organization, just blind panic, and the light that was streaming into the sky -the light that was streaming into the sky - 

“minerva...” filius’ horrified whisper is lost to her.

“up there!” comes a shout too close to her ear from someone who is trying to push their way through the crowd quicker than anyone else, now, like by sheer force of will they might make it before the hundred others. but she doesn’t NEED to be told where to look.

overhead there has erupted a horrifying sight : a skull as large as the castle itself, it seems, formed of dark cloud that a handful of moments ago simply did not exist. and as she watches, its mouth opens wide - a SNAKE slithering from it’s open maw to twist grotestquely around it, eyes glowing menacingly all the while. 

OUT OF CHARACTER :

the goodbye ceremony is the final curtain of memorial weekend. the thought is quite simple, really : though wizards don’t believe in the same sort of afterlife as muggles do, the act of sending light up to the sky ( similar to the art of fire lanterns ) is seen as symbolic. students, professors, neighbours, friends, families : all of them gather upon the grounds for the FINAL show, and it is not uncommon for them to spend hours outside underneath clear, starry skies, simply observing the show of good that they have partaken in as way of honoring their lost. really, it’s quite cruel that this is the ceremony in which things go wrong.

we’ve reached the NATURAL end of our second event, and what a trip it has become ! not only has sybill trelawney pulled out all the stops - the appearance of the dark mark in the sky above the grounds is... truly, quite a horrifying thing. it hasn’t been seen in the wizarding world in six years to the day - and you can surely imagine the terror seizing those that actually UNDERSTAND its weight, now.

though the event is now technically winding down, the plot won’t further progress for another week period ( because we like having set blocks such as these, you know ) : this means that while you should begin winding down your previous event threads, you can feel welcome to create as MANY within the chaos of this as you want ! go wild with it, in fact - the reactions each character have will likely vary in intensity, and i for one want to see it all !

i’ll announce the end next friday, after which point we will be progressing past SUNDAY THE 3RD OF MAY.

the prophecy is going to be posted on a sub section on discord where you can all DISCUSS your thoughts : i actively encourage you all to work together and spitball ideas and see what you think ! will i confirm or deny ? probably not. but feel free to get involved in it, as this marks the beginning of our main plotline ! 

you can continue tagging these threads with nox.event002, and remember to keep in mind location tagging ! 

if you have ANY questions or concerns, as always, please feel free to message me with them !