Post by MARA ELISE WESTON on Aug 7, 2009 21:28:25 GMT -5
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MARA ELISE WESTON
i'm a shoulder you can cry on
your best friend, i'm the one you must rely on
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MARA ELISE WESTON
i'm a shoulder you can cry on
your best friend, i'm the one you must rely on
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OKAY, SO GIVE US THE BASICS !
"ER, HELLO THERE. I AM MARA ELISE WESTON BUT YOU CAN JUST CALL ME MAR OR MARA. I HAVE BEEN WREAKING HAVOC FOR SIXTY YEARS AND I DON'T REALLY PLAN ON STOPPING SOON. I GRACED THIS WORLD WITH MY PRESENCE ON JUNE 22 OF 1915. I BRANDISH A MAHOGANY, HIPPOGRIFF TALON, 12-INCH WAND, I KNOW YOU ARE JEALOUS. I WAS IN THE HOUSE OF HUFFLEPUFF, 1933, AND DAMN PROUD. I WAS BORN WITH MUGGLE BLOOD, NOT THAT IT REALLY MATTERS. SO YEAH, ARE WE DONE?"[/size]
SORRY, NOT QUITE. SO WHAT ARE AND AREN'T YOU INTO ?
“Well, when I’m not busy teaching and grading papers, you can usually find me knitting. I tend to hum while I knit. When I’m at home, I really enjoy cooking and finding new recipes. I’m a pretty good cook, if you don’t mind me saying. And speaking of home, I like to feel home. My classroom, my office, and my living quarters have a very warm, welcoming, homey feel. Um… I like eating, too. I love good food. I guess that’s where my gut came from, huh?[/size]
“As far as what I don’t like, I try not to be picky. I…don’t like pureblood supremacy. I think too many people get caught up in worrying about who’s who and who was born where and who has what blood. It’s stupid. I don’t like repeating myself, and I hate having to raise my voice to get attention. I don’t think that I should have to do that, especially when I’m the one teaching in my classroom. Oh, and I can’t stand pumpkin juice. It’s warm tea, black coffee, or water for me.”
HOW ER... INTERESTING. EVER LOOKED INTO THE MIRROR OF ERISED ?
“I’ve never been an ambitious person. I mean, sure, we all have those childish dreams of becoming Minister of Magic of Headmaster of Hogwarts. For me, though, it’s always been more personal and less public. What I would really like to accomplish in life is being a good person. That’s my one main goal. I want to make a different in the life of every person with whom I come in contact. Teaching was…the first step.[/size]
WHAT MAKES YOU SHAKE IN YOUR BOOTS ?
“I don’t like bugs, especially not the stinging ones. When I get stung, I swell up like a balloon. I’m scared to die alone. When I say alone, I don’t mean without a partner. I mean…alone in a room…by myself…alone. But I guess dying in my sleep would be ideal. My biggest fear…death. What happens after we die? Can we still hear anything? Is it like…sleeping and hearing but not being able to move or open our eyes? Is it cold? Hot? What is it? What happens?”[/size]
EVEN YOU HAVE TO HAVE SOME GOOD QUALITIES, RIGHT ?
“I guess it’s a matter of opinion, but I think I’m a pretty good teacher. The students are passing my class, and they seem to understand what’s going on and what is being taught. I’m also a pretty good cook, and I know good food when I taste it. I also like to think of myself as a lively and cheerful person; it helps people keep attention and feel a vibe. That’s important in a classroom.”[/size]
AND IT'S QUITE OBVIOUS YOU HAVE YOUR BAD, HUH ?
“I have to admit, I’m a little nosy. Everyone is, though. I’m also a hit of a hypocrite. Like… I don’t like procrastination, yet I do it all the time. I’m not very good at speaking in front of people. I know I’m a teacher and teachers shouldn’t be like that, but… I am. Oh, yes, and I’m gullible.[/size]
LET’S GET DIRTY. WHAT TURNS YOU ON ?
“Money means nothing to me, nor do looks. If that was the case, I would never have found Richard, my first husband. And, honestly, I could care less about sex. A relationship shouldn’t be based on that. In a relationship, I look for trust and understanding, honesty and respect. I need a guy with…a great sense of humor and a warming personality. Richard was like that, and that’s why I miss him.”[/size]
DO YOU LOVE YOUR FAMILY ?
“My family is amazing. Not many people say that about their family, but I can honestly say that I love mine. My parents are Mildred and Patrick. I have two younger siblings, my sister Collen, who is fifty-six, and my brother Meredith, who is fifty-three. I was also married—a long time ago—to a man named Richard. He died in the Second World War, though. And then I was married again, to my Ministry mentor, Clyde, but we divorced less than a year after we married. We had different opinions. I went back to my first husband’s surname.”[/size]
WHERE YA FROM, BY THE WAY ?
“I’m from Glasgow, Scotland. I’m…not entirely sure why my parents were living there at the time. I guess it’s because they liked it. After I graduated from Hogwarts and started working at the Ministry, I moved to London. My parents didn’t like the idea, but I couldn’t rely on them forever.[/size]
THE DEMENTORS ARE HERE. WHAT DO YOU THINK OF ?
“It was December of 1941, a couple of days before Christmas. I was at home, drinking hot chocolate or something—I can’t remember now—and there was a knock at the door. I got up and went to answer it, and standing there was a man in a uniform. I knew what it meant, so I just…stood there. The man handed me a small box—a f*cking box, like that was going to make things better—and told me the news. [Sigh] “Mrs. Weston,” he said, “I’m sorry to inform you of such news, but your husband was shot down by enemy forces about six days ago. His body will be arriving after Christmas. Happy Holidays.” He stood there for a moment, but I couldn’t bring myself to say or do anything, so I just stood there with the door open and the snow on the ground. It was shocking, and… I don’t think I’ve ever gotten over that.”[/size]
BETTER GET UP A PATRONUS. WHAT ARE YOU REMEMBERING ?
“Definitely my wedding. June 28, 1937. My father walked me down the aisle at a church in London. I was wearing a beautiful white dress, on my way to join my life with that of the man of my dreams. I remember Richard watching me as I walked down the aisle with my father, and he gave me one of his looks, like everything was going to be okay—because I was already crying, even though I was smiling. And after we said ‘I do’ and after he kissed me…I knew that everything was going to be perfect. I knew.”[/size]
AND YOUR QUALIFICATIONS FOR BEING PART OF THE STAFF HERE AT HOGWARTS ?
“Well, I worked for nine years in the Ministry of Magic, during which time I was part of the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes. I started off as a secretary, fresh out of school, and then I was offered a position three years afterwards. I was given a mentor, and he taught me things that I needed to know. I worked there for six years…and then I was offered a spot here at Hogwarts. I took the offer, obviously, and I’ve been working here since. Fifteen years into my teaching career—I guess the staff thought me reliable and responsible enough—I was made the Head of Hufflepuff. So I’ve been Charms professor for thirty-three years, and Head of House for eighteen.[/size]
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HI, I AM AMBER AND I AM EIGHTEEN YEARS OLD.
I HAVE BEEN DOING THIS FOR FOUR AND I'M NOT
QUITTING ANYTIME SOON. WELL, I GUESS I NEED TO SHOW YOU I'M THE SHIT,
SO HERE IT GOES.
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HI, I AM AMBER AND I AM EIGHTEEN YEARS OLD.
I HAVE BEEN DOING THIS FOR FOUR AND I'M NOT
QUITTING ANYTIME SOON. WELL, I GUESS I NEED TO SHOW YOU I'M THE SHIT,
SO HERE IT GOES.
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“Welcome to yet another year at Hogwarts…”
Here we go, Mara thought as she straightened her fork and knife, which had somehow become crooked between the time she sat down and now. She cleared her throat quietly, as to not interrupt the headmaster’s welcome-back-to-Hogwarts speech. She admired his ability to say the same exact thing at the start of each year without realizing it. While she loved routines and organization, she was not entirely sure she could recite the same speech at the start of every year. She would have to change a few words here and there and try different tones in her voice. But the headmaster, he said the same exact thing each and every year, and his voice was always the same. The funny thing was that the first year students and first year teachers were all so enthralled with what he had to say. The professors and students who had been there for a year or more were already familiar with what he was going to say and felt no need to pay attention. The Charms professor glanced at the Hufflepuff table. None of the older students were paying attention. Though she knew that the thought should have infuriated her, she could not help but grin slightly.
“…I will remind you that the Forbidden Forest is forbidden to all students…”
Yes, headmaster, we know, she thought. Usually, she was not so rude in her thoughts, but she was feeling a little fidgety. She could not sit in one place for a long period or else she would explode. Not literally, of course. Mara was an active person. She had to be doing something at all times. If there was nothing to do, then she would find something to do. During mealtimes in the Great Hall, she was always able to shovel food into her mouth and eat. That was action enough for her when she was sitting there. The headmaster was giving his speech, though, and the food would only appear when he told it to. Mara looked at the watch on her right hand. It was like clockwork. Yes, Mara had timed how long his speech was every year, and it was always the same. Three minute and twelve seconds, that was how long Mara had calculated.
“…Mr. Filch would also like me to remind you that dueling in the corridors is restricted…”
Who cares about Filch? She looked at the headmaster as he stood in front of his seat and spoke, moving his hands occasionally. His face had aged since June, it seemed, and he was looking even more tired. Maybe his day had been like hers, long and tiring. It was the first day of the term, which meant that there had been a lot of preparation before the students arrived. Of course, Mara had arrived that morning to set up her living quarters, office, and classroom. Everything in her classroom was exactly as she had left it. The only thing that she had done was clear the room of the dust and dirt that lingered on the floor and in the corners of the classroom. Her sinuses were bad enough as it was, she did not need dirt and dust to make it worse. The woman looked down at her empty plate and continued to listen vaguely to the headmaster speak.
“…Students in their third year and up will need a signed permission slip from a parent or guardian, or else they will not be able to attend Saturday trips to Hogsmeade…”
Hogsmeade… She was starting memorize the headmaster’s speech about as well as he had memorized it. She had not realized it, but she was mouthing the words as he said them, knowing each and every breath he took and each pause he made. Thirty-three years of teaching had done that to her. She had heard this same speech thirty-three times. Maybe by year thirty-five she would have it memorized to a tee. God, I hope not… she thought as she realized finally that she knew what he was going to say next. She blinked her eyes closed and shook her head. The students were probably looking at her with confused expressions. If any of them realized that she was mocking the headmaster, they were probably laughing to themselves and telling the person sitting beside them. She bit down on her lower lip. She could not continue mouthing the words as the professor said them. Surely, he would realize what she was doing and pause in the middle of his speech to ask her if there was something wrong. That would have been embarrassing.
“…And now, let us eat!”
Finally! Food appeared on the trays in front of them, and students and professors started digging in. Mara was about to reach for some baked chicken but stopped when she realized that the professor to her left was already going for it. Of course, the woman sitting beside her was right-handed. What a disaster that would have been. Every year, Mara bumped elbows with the person to her left. Most of the time, her fellow professors were right-handed, and she was usually stuck between two people because of the headmaster’s brilliant idea to keep the heads of house in the center of the table with him. She scoffed through her nose at the thought and then reached for the chicken. This time, she managed to actually reach the tray and put some food on her plate. She filled her plate, because she always ate a lot and because she was feeling overwhelmingly hungry. Not only that, but she had missed the house elves’ cooking. She loved her cooking, but Hogwarts had some amazing food, she had to admit.
The professor ate at a normal speed from her plate. She paused between bites of food to take sips of water from her water goblet. The first years were probably staring at her as if she were some type of glutton, but that thought never bothered Mara. She enjoyed food and enjoyed eating it. She did not care what the students or professors thought of her. If they thought she was a glutton, then she was a glutton. It was not a sin to enjoy good food, and Mara was a very good judge of food, being a good cook herself. The woman pushed the food around on her plate a bit as she chewed a mouthful of chicken. After she swallowed, she brought her water goblet to her lips and sipped lightly from it. Her eyes surveyed the room, and her mind took note of the new faces as well as the old ones. Many of the students she admired had graduated the previous year. Hopefully, a group of first year students would make it onto her “great admiration” list. If not, then she would have to find some other students to admire. That was easier said than done. Mara sighed to herself and set her fork down on the side of her plate, making sure that it did not land in her mashed potatoes. She was feeling a little melancholic thinking about her recently graduated students. She wondered how they were doing and whether or not any of them had gotten a job. Had Lucille and Timothy gotten married? She remembered them talking to her about it during the last few weeks of the school year, but they never wrote to her or informed her of anything after that. She at least thought she would get an invitation to the wedding, seeing as she had always been one of their “favorite professors.” The woman sighed again. Taking her fork in her left hand, she started to eat again. The food certainly was delicious.
Here we go, Mara thought as she straightened her fork and knife, which had somehow become crooked between the time she sat down and now. She cleared her throat quietly, as to not interrupt the headmaster’s welcome-back-to-Hogwarts speech. She admired his ability to say the same exact thing at the start of each year without realizing it. While she loved routines and organization, she was not entirely sure she could recite the same speech at the start of every year. She would have to change a few words here and there and try different tones in her voice. But the headmaster, he said the same exact thing each and every year, and his voice was always the same. The funny thing was that the first year students and first year teachers were all so enthralled with what he had to say. The professors and students who had been there for a year or more were already familiar with what he was going to say and felt no need to pay attention. The Charms professor glanced at the Hufflepuff table. None of the older students were paying attention. Though she knew that the thought should have infuriated her, she could not help but grin slightly.
“…I will remind you that the Forbidden Forest is forbidden to all students…”
Yes, headmaster, we know, she thought. Usually, she was not so rude in her thoughts, but she was feeling a little fidgety. She could not sit in one place for a long period or else she would explode. Not literally, of course. Mara was an active person. She had to be doing something at all times. If there was nothing to do, then she would find something to do. During mealtimes in the Great Hall, she was always able to shovel food into her mouth and eat. That was action enough for her when she was sitting there. The headmaster was giving his speech, though, and the food would only appear when he told it to. Mara looked at the watch on her right hand. It was like clockwork. Yes, Mara had timed how long his speech was every year, and it was always the same. Three minute and twelve seconds, that was how long Mara had calculated.
“…Mr. Filch would also like me to remind you that dueling in the corridors is restricted…”
Who cares about Filch? She looked at the headmaster as he stood in front of his seat and spoke, moving his hands occasionally. His face had aged since June, it seemed, and he was looking even more tired. Maybe his day had been like hers, long and tiring. It was the first day of the term, which meant that there had been a lot of preparation before the students arrived. Of course, Mara had arrived that morning to set up her living quarters, office, and classroom. Everything in her classroom was exactly as she had left it. The only thing that she had done was clear the room of the dust and dirt that lingered on the floor and in the corners of the classroom. Her sinuses were bad enough as it was, she did not need dirt and dust to make it worse. The woman looked down at her empty plate and continued to listen vaguely to the headmaster speak.
“…Students in their third year and up will need a signed permission slip from a parent or guardian, or else they will not be able to attend Saturday trips to Hogsmeade…”
Hogsmeade… She was starting memorize the headmaster’s speech about as well as he had memorized it. She had not realized it, but she was mouthing the words as he said them, knowing each and every breath he took and each pause he made. Thirty-three years of teaching had done that to her. She had heard this same speech thirty-three times. Maybe by year thirty-five she would have it memorized to a tee. God, I hope not… she thought as she realized finally that she knew what he was going to say next. She blinked her eyes closed and shook her head. The students were probably looking at her with confused expressions. If any of them realized that she was mocking the headmaster, they were probably laughing to themselves and telling the person sitting beside them. She bit down on her lower lip. She could not continue mouthing the words as the professor said them. Surely, he would realize what she was doing and pause in the middle of his speech to ask her if there was something wrong. That would have been embarrassing.
“…And now, let us eat!”
Finally! Food appeared on the trays in front of them, and students and professors started digging in. Mara was about to reach for some baked chicken but stopped when she realized that the professor to her left was already going for it. Of course, the woman sitting beside her was right-handed. What a disaster that would have been. Every year, Mara bumped elbows with the person to her left. Most of the time, her fellow professors were right-handed, and she was usually stuck between two people because of the headmaster’s brilliant idea to keep the heads of house in the center of the table with him. She scoffed through her nose at the thought and then reached for the chicken. This time, she managed to actually reach the tray and put some food on her plate. She filled her plate, because she always ate a lot and because she was feeling overwhelmingly hungry. Not only that, but she had missed the house elves’ cooking. She loved her cooking, but Hogwarts had some amazing food, she had to admit.
The professor ate at a normal speed from her plate. She paused between bites of food to take sips of water from her water goblet. The first years were probably staring at her as if she were some type of glutton, but that thought never bothered Mara. She enjoyed food and enjoyed eating it. She did not care what the students or professors thought of her. If they thought she was a glutton, then she was a glutton. It was not a sin to enjoy good food, and Mara was a very good judge of food, being a good cook herself. The woman pushed the food around on her plate a bit as she chewed a mouthful of chicken. After she swallowed, she brought her water goblet to her lips and sipped lightly from it. Her eyes surveyed the room, and her mind took note of the new faces as well as the old ones. Many of the students she admired had graduated the previous year. Hopefully, a group of first year students would make it onto her “great admiration” list. If not, then she would have to find some other students to admire. That was easier said than done. Mara sighed to herself and set her fork down on the side of her plate, making sure that it did not land in her mashed potatoes. She was feeling a little melancholic thinking about her recently graduated students. She wondered how they were doing and whether or not any of them had gotten a job. Had Lucille and Timothy gotten married? She remembered them talking to her about it during the last few weeks of the school year, but they never wrote to her or informed her of anything after that. She at least thought she would get an invitation to the wedding, seeing as she had always been one of their “favorite professors.” The woman sighed again. Taking her fork in her left hand, she started to eat again. The food certainly was delicious.
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