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Dear students of the 2009-10 NEWT level Astronomy courses,

The Dec 10th 11:30pm Starcharting course will be occurring on schedule due to the clear weather. Please attend and be on time with all your materials ready, as there may not be extras available upon arrival. This will likely be our last chance to work on star charting prior to the Mid-term examinations.

Dress warmly, as we will be outdoors.

- Professor T. Trishna

The night sky was crystal clear, the stars sparkling like tiny diamonds. The moon was a half-moon but hung behind the school, for now out of the way of any stargazing. It was a beautiful night, the layer of snow that had fallen during the day now slightly frozen over and sparkling in the light from the torches.

It was also incredibly cold. The wind wasn't fast, but it was enough to add an edge to a night that really didn't need one. Tapendra sniffed, pulling his cloak tighter around his shoulders. This was probably the last night for star gazing before the Christmas break, and he'd be damned if he was going to waste it just because of the chill.

The tower was bright on the inside, the lamps burning and the fires crackling cheerfully in their grates. The curtain he'd opened and tied off was the only reason it wasn't very warm in the tower, despite the fires. He considered cancelling the star gazing every time the slight breeze picked up and the chill found its way to his desk - but they did need to review one more time at least before the midterm, and the forecast was rain and snow and clouds until Christmas.

He sniffed again, drinking deeply from the cup in front of him - which, while looking rather like tea, actually held buttered rum. Best to make himself think he was warm, wasn't it?

The echoing thuds of feet on the stairwell below was what coaxed him to his feet, pausing to pour the hot rum into a thermos rather than a tea mug. He'd drink it later. While the drink wasn't going to get him in any way really inebriated, he wasn't going to go about drinking in front of students, and certainly not during a class.

"Good evening," he said, as heads appeared at the top of the spiral staircase. "Take a telescope and head to the battlement -" he gestured out through the open curtain, to the battlement that ringed the classroom. "I'll join you all out there shortly. Be careful, the battlement's a bit icy."

It was cold, but it wasn't that cold.  Granted, it was colder than it usually got back at Salem so some of his classmates might be suffering - the East Coast got chilly, at best.  But, compared to a clear, northern plains winter night, this was nothing.  A letter from home had confirmed temperatures were already dipping below zero.  Fahrenheit.  The temperatures here were probably just below freezing - nothing their school robes, a wool ear-flapped cap and a simple warming charm couldn't handle. 

Another evening of star charting.  It wasn't the most exciting lesson plan but clear days were a bit of a rarity up here.  Despite the cap, Migs' hair got picked up by the wind as he stepped out onto the battlement and found a spot.  Cursing his inability to remember a hair tie, Migs set up his telescope and pulled out a blank chart.

"And, off in the left field," Migs mused aloud as he scanned the skies for a starting place.  "It's a mouse!  With really big ears!  And his scrawny sidekick."  Having found his starting point, he glanced to his neighbor before turning to chart the stars that could be seen with his naked eye.  "They looked to be on a warpath.  Coming to take over the world." 

Finishing off a nice, hot and gooey muffin as he reached the landing Gabriel tugged his robes more securely closed and his hat down. Now he was warm on the inside and out, no windy chill was going to bother him. Besides, it was a nice clear night and he couldn't blame the professor on wanting to hold class.

Nodding to Professor Trishna as a greetings he picked up a telescope and went to the battlement and fully got set up. Listening as the American student started off on his starting point he had to chuckle some. "You sure it's the world they're after? Could just be that giant wheel of cheese by that pitchfork." Smiling he began to chart stars as well.

A Hogwarts Gryffindor came and commandeered a spot next to Migs on the battlement.  "You're Gabriel, right?"  Migs asked, glancing towards the Gryffindor.  The American was generally decent with names and they'd been sharing classes with the Brits for a few months now. 

Migs offered the Gryffindor a broad grin before turning his attention back to the skies overhead.  "Of course they're after the world.  Why wouldn't they be?  We've got fried oreos and Charlie's Angels.  Who wouldn't want to take over our world?"  Migs lifted his quill and waggled it at Gabriel.  "Can't let them take it, though.  They'll take the creamy filling and girls and leave us with nothing but the cookies."

"Ah, shi- ... shingles!"  Stupid quills.  Ink dribbling from the tip of a quill and Astronomy star charts were not a good match.  A new constellation had dribbled its way onto the northwestern quadrant of his chart.  "Think he'd notice an extra bear in the sky?" Migs asked, glancing over his shoulder towards the tall Hogwarts Professor. 

"Problem, Mister Nadge?" Tapendra asked at the boy's language, as he made his way (with some reluctance, admittedly) out onto the balcony. He hadn't been such a wimp about cold when he was the student's age - what had happened? Had he softened up with....well, it wasn't old age. With early middle age?

Either way, his desk did seem more appealing than the biting cold outside, but he wasn't going to show that so long as he could avoid it. He walked over to the two boys, sniffing as his nose began to go numb. Still, something they'd said made him raise an eyebrow.

"Wait - there's such a thing as a fried Oreo?" He asked, leaning near the two, one hand resting on the battlement to balance himself. Admittedly, it shouldn't have surprised him; Americans seemed to fry everything, didn't they? Still...that actually sounded intriguingly good. Or bad. "Fried X" tended to swing either one way or the other. "What exactly is that, then? They just throw oreos in a deep frier?"

Gabriel wasn't too sure about the fried oreos, but he'd taken it in stride. Food was food after all. "They'd take all the muffins too, probably. Maybe we can keep them at bay with the pitchfork." Pausing to see what was wrong he smirked. "He always notices things like that, I'm afraid."

There was a phrase that seemed rather apt in this situation. Speak of the devil. Soon after he was mentioned, Professor Trishna wandered over. Listening as he asked his questions Gabriel resumed charting. This little story Migs had going of the mouse and his sidekick wanting to take over the world would probably end up rather hilarious.

Their gallant professor seemed to have overheard Migs' near miss and had presently joined them in the cold.  Migs looked at the man before tapping his chart with the feathered end of his quill.  "We seem to in desperate need of pitchforks," Migs answered, casting a grin at his Gryffindor compadre.  "Other than that, nothing a little correction charm can't fix.  The hummingbird just got a bit overzealous and gave Dipper an extra appendage."  Migs retrieved his pale, aspen-wood wand from his back pocket and siphoned the little drops of errant ink from the page. 

Migs cast the professor a sly grin, his eyebrows hitching up twice.  "Fried oreos.  Fairs and rodeos are always finding something new to fry.  Oreos aren't as bad as fried butter, though."  That was taking it just a bit too far.  "They can have the muffins, though." 

Was the professor being serious?  Granted, Migs had never tried it but he was fairly certain one couldn't just toss an oreo in a fryer.  He imagined the thing would melt and disintegrate into a brown, molten blob. "No, man.  Like fried fish or chicken.  They dip'em in batter and fry them like donuts.  Oreo-filled donuts. So good.  But, not the best thing to eat before a ride." 

Cloaked in as many layers as Eli could manage, the sixth year Ravenclaw made his way quickly through the halls of Hogwarts, headed toward the Astronomy tower. In his hand he carried a briefcase-sized trunk, graffitied with various stickers from across the world. Over his shoulder was slung a bag, stuffed with parchment, quills and ink, and his textbook (just in case). Not that he had anything against the Gryffindor and the Salemite, but when he reached the tower, Eli walked away from the two, nodded to his head of house, and set up his very special telescope across the way.

The school telescopes, though passable, weren’t exactly advanced, and honestly most of the time they were so out of focus you couldn’t tell if you were looking at Mars or a speck of dust on the lens. Eli took his telescope from the case; goblin-wrought and Egyptian, it was one of Eli’s greatest treasures. It had been a gift from his Aunt Opie for his last ‘birthday’, after finding that Elijah would be continuing with Astronomy for NEWT level. Of course, no one really knew when Eli and Evie were born, so they just celebrated the day that the twins were welcomed into the family, and that was good enough for them.

As Elijah calibrated the focus and set the locks, he wondered, not for the first time, how his Aunt had possibly paid for such an extravagant gift. He’d probably never know, but that was why she was his favorite, she was always so mysterious and exciting. He spread his parchment out across the easel and set his inkpot on the ledge of the battlement and caught a glimpse of the conversation going on around him. Wondering what an oreo was, he put his eye to the telescope and began charting in silence.

You would never find Sasha claiming to dislike a class.  Even in the case of Divination, Sasha was hesitant to offer any more judgmental of an assessment than 'it was frustrating non-specific.'  But, especially when he was as fond and as loyal to the classes' instructor as was the case with Astronomy, Sasha was very unlikely to speak ill of the class. 

However, Sasha had to admit that star charting was not the highlight of this particular class.  Really, he understood that the School Governors felt reading the magical transit of the stars was the actual important material in the class but...after five and a half years of charting the stars, one did finally get the idea.  It wasn't like the stars progression through the seasons changed that much from year to year.  Or, at all over the course of a single student's Hogwarts career.  And, given the math they were learning had the potential to predict the movements of the stars each night ahead of time, sitting out in the cold and staring up at them just seemed redundant. 

Especially when there were so many other things things the Ravenclaw could be doing. 

Shivering, slightly, Sasha set his telescope up in a space between Eli and the Gryffindor and the American and fetched his parchment from his bag.  Despite his best intentions, his nose wrinkled slightly at bits of overheard conversation - fried cookies.  He couldn't remember the last time he'd had fried potatoes.  The notion of eating fried cookies was just about enough to make his stomach churn. 

"Have you ever considered," Sasha mused aloud, either to Eli or himself or whoever happened to be listening.  "How ... unsettling it'd be if our star charts tonight actually looked different than the ones we did our first year?"  Or third year, for that matter.  Or, even, Professor Trishna's first year!

Tapendra look at the two in unmasked confusion. He hadn't heard most of their conversation, so any mention of pitchforks all but made an audible sound as the reference went over his head. He looked down at Mig's chart when the boy waggled his quill, though, and tilted his head slightly. The Salem, and other foreign, students were at a bit of a disadvantage here, he'd admit; while the Hogwarts students in the class had had the chance to sort of memorize the sky here, their foreign visitors hadn't...and it showed in many of the charts he got.

Admittedly, Mig's issue was an ink spill, which he seemed to have cleared up. Tapendra decided he was probably fine, and so it was easy to turn his mind to fried oreos, in...doughnut batter, was it? That sounded...well, better, he supposed. Kind of delicious, if he was being honest. Still a bit difficult to imagine, though. Did they look like cream puffs?

Gods, he needed a snack. His rising hunger was a little curbed at the idea of friend butter, though, and even the thought made him feel a little sick. He didn't need to say ugh - the expression that crossed his face said it for him.

"I...imagine it's not, no," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "Well, then - anything you need, Mister Nadge, Mister Sabern?"

Migs grinned, broadly, at the look of confusion on the professor's face.  To be honest, the conversation with the Hogwarts student didn't make a whole lot of sense to Migs, either.  But, he'd followed the line of thought from pitchforks to stolen muffins to fried oreos easily enough. 

Migs' grin broadened, good-naturedly, when the man seemed to offer a blank agreement.  It was hard to tell if the man was being awkward or agreeing without having any idea what Migs was talking about.  All in all, the man seemed rather easy to fluster.   

So, when Professor Trishna asked if they needed anything, the temptation was far too great.  "Single malt, if you're asking," Migs replied, nodding.  "Straight.  Make it a double.  It'd be nice and warming.  And, muffins, apparently."  Migs dipped his chin in Gabe's direction.  Gabe could take the muffins, Migs would take the whiskey.  The rest of the oddballs on the roof ... well, Professor Trishna would have to ask them. 

Eli looked up from his telescope and gave his dormmate a quite confused look. What did he mean by that? Eli’s star charts never looked the same, not even when he looked back into the telescope five minutes later. Sure, the positioning of the planets stayed the same, but that wasn’t the point of star charting, not really. Every time Eli looked into his telescope, he saw some other shape, some form outlined in the sky, as if connected by invisible lines, drawing him to their skyward gazes.

The Ravenclaw knew that the point of star charting wasn’t to pick out fanciful shapes in the ether, but it was impossible for Eli not to, and it seemed like Professor Trishna didn’t mind so much as long as all the stars were in the right alignment and he had the ‘proper’ constellations outlined correctly. “I dunno,” He said, giving Sasha a serious look, “The last time I star charted, I swear I saw a turkey in the stars, and then the next day, what do you know? Roast turkey for dinner.” He knew that that wasn’t all there was to Astronomy, not even all there was to astrological divination, but it was true, nonetheless and it never hurt to have a little fun with your friends.

Sasha looked up from his telescope at Eli and blinked.  Had his housemate just said what he thought he said?  He saw a turkey in the stars and then they had turkey for dinner?  As if doing so might offer some enlightenment as to how Sasha should respond, the Ravenclaw looked from Eli to the sky overhead and back down.  "Oh.  Well.  The probability that it was a, you know, coincidence seems significantly higher than if it was ... a message from the stars." 

It was still difficult for the Ravenclaw to really fully wrap his head around Divination on a small scale - but, he could learn the motions and memorize the meanings behind the various clumps of leaves and smoke designs in a crystal ball.  But, messages from the cosmos?  That implied the cosmos and all the expanse of their universe felt what they were having for dinner was a significant enough detail to broadcast across space and time.  It was a turkey dinner. 

"I can't remember.  Are we supposed to chart satellites and space junk?  Or, just the natural stuff.  Do you think we'll live to see a wizard in space?"

When it came to the conversation about the objects and things they saw in the stars, he didn't have a clue. It was all good natured fun, though, and Gabe didn't mind joining in. After all, it would otherwise be quiet, and probably very boring just charting stars out in this cold air. Talking about something, anything, passed the time better.

Gabriel chuckled to himself as Migs asked for the whiskey. The professor would never go for that and obviously wasn't what he had meant but.... "Never can go wrong with muffins. Especially when they're hot and gooey in the center." He had eaten a good sized, and not completely unhealthy, dinner before the class, but just the thought of those hot muffins had his stomach growling again. Offering a semi-embarrassed grin he shrugged and charted some more stars.

Tapendra looked at Migs for a moment - then he laughed, grinning. "I'm afraid my classroom has a no alcohol policy, Mister Nadge," he said. "Though I suppose butterbeer is a loophole of sorts, isn't it? That'd be acceptable, if you're alright with a substitute." The stuff was a bit alcoholic, though not enough to really be considered an alcoholic drink, he supposed. Certainly the wizarding world didn't think of it that way - the issue had never arisen for him until entering the muggle world, where any alcohol made something alcoholic.

"Muffins, however, may be possible," he said, rubbing his chin. "Provided you get your charts done, mm?" He gestured at the two boy's charts, raising an eyebrow but not making much effort to be super authoritative. "I'm not sure I want to explain to your Headmaster that your grades are dropping because you're distracted by muffins." He wasn't sure he wanted to spend more time around LeBeau than he had to - the man wasn't dislikeable by any means, just...confusing.

"I'd rather not have a crocodile turn up in the tower and stare at me," he added with a mutter. Or was in an alligator? He could never tell the difference.