Rays of sun shined over the top of The Three Broomsticks. The day was warm, the perfect setting for what he had planned. Sitting in the shadows created by the large pub sat a cage full of small humanoid creatures with overly large heads. They were packed in pretty tightly, some having to stand on top of others just to fit. Occasionally the Hufflepuff would shove a stick through the bars or rattle the cage, irritating the pesky critters inside. It was crucial that the animals inside were irritable and cranky, or his plan wouldn’t work as well.

The gnomes hadn’t had breakfast, so they were getting a little hungry. Charlie wasn’t trying to starve the little munchkins, he wasn’t cruel, he just needed their hunger to aid him with his Woodcroft Day festivities. He was scheduled to start at noon, when the sun was directly overhead, another factor in making this a difficult and extremely fun phenomenon.

With about twenty minutes to spare, Charlie sat down next to the cage, back planted against a pretty big tree. In one hand the Huffler held a chilled bottle of Butterbeer, and in the other he held a large turkey leg. Twenty minutes was plenty of time to finish it off, it wasn’t like he was trying to eat a whole turkey. He held a scrumptious slice over the cage, tantalizing the tiny terrors with the tasty morsel. “Get it! Come on… you know you want it,” he coaxed, watching the gnomes tearing at each other trying to get at the bite far out of any of their reaches. “Too bad!” He grinned, throwing the nibble into his mouth and swallowing it whole.

With only ten minutes left to wait, Charlie stood up, tossing the gnawed-on turkey bone in the nearest trash receptacle. He brushed off the backside of his plain black robes, removing any evidence of his prior stance. Charlie preferred to wear robes on really hot days, there was always a pleasant breeze running around his frame that he couldn’t get with constricting muggle clothing.

“COME ONE! COME ALL TO THE GREATEST GNOME-Y GAME EVER CREATED!” He called, throwing his free hand out toward the homemade sign reading: Throw-a-Gnome.

Eirene stood by the Three Broomsticks, sipping delicately at an iced concoction that tasted like jellybeans (the yummy ones, not the boogie flavors) through the straw. Her mother was off somewhere by the Herbology booth having a Very Important discussion about work, so now that Eirene wasn’t tied to her hip, she saw the festival in a whole new way. It was a big adventure with prizes, games, and dangers (i.e. dirt) lurking around every corner! One young man caught her eye when he dangled a scrumptious turkey leg over the heads of caged gnomes, who all rushed at the bars and tried to grab it. One gnome hit another gnome with his own hat, another kicked out viciously, and another one went for the eyes. Eirene’s eyebrows raised and her mouth opened, drink momentarily forgotten. The young man teasingly pulled away the turkey leg and the gnomes fell back, grumbling. Eirene shook her head but kept her eyes on the display, secretly amused.

When the man finished eating he wiped the dust off his robes- Eirene fought the urge to hand him her napkin- and announced loudly that the greatest gnome game was about the begin! She looked around the festival, wondering who would be the first to brave the game, while her feet became fidgety and restless. Slowly, cautiously, she walked over to the booth, discarded her refreshment, and wiped at her blue-tinted mouth with her napkin.

“Excuse me,” she said with a shy smile, unaware of the blue sheen over her teeth. “Exactly what does this game entail?” Obviously the sign said ‘Throw-a-gnome’, but she wanted to be completely prepared before she jumped into anything. She knew there had to be rules and maybe even a prize!

Eirene stared at the gnomes clustered in the cage. She’d seen gnomes before, but had never been right next to any. She rather wished she wasn’t so close because they weren’t very pretty. Their bushy eyebrows drew together in annoyance, frowns pulled at their mouths and made their chins pucker in lines, and even their noses looked warty! One of them looked at her and stuck his tongue out. She let out a small gasp and lifted her chin up in the air, then turned back to the young man who seemed to be in charge.

“They won’t bite me, will they? Or grab my hair?” Eirene questioned, smoothing out her locks, which she’d washed this morning. She would probably wash her hair again when she got home, but she didn’t want another spitting incident from creatures that reminded her of Keegan!

Prize!

Before long, a young girl walked up to the open area where Charlie stood, advertising his booth. He knew she couldn’t be more than eleven, Charlie hadn’t seen her around school. Perhaps it would be a little fun to play a little trick on her? Nah. What was the point when the truth would probably do the same without Charlie having to lie?

He had to crouch down to get at the girl’s level. He didn’t want to frighten her by towering over her like some menace telling her that he’d give her candy if she let a gnome bite her finger…even though that’s pretty much exactly what he was. “Do you have magic folks?” he asked the unnamed child, “Because we have these things here,” he waved his hand toward the caged gnomes, “that like to pester our gardens and yards.”

“No one likes a gnome. They’re pesky, dirty, and unequivocally annoying, so you don’t really want them around your yard, biting the ankles of your guests. It’s a rather common practice within magical households to pluck a gnome out of the ground, spin it around your head a few times and toss it as far as you can across your garden wall. That way the gnomes have a really hard time finding their way back home.” He smiled and took a breath.

“That’s what we’re doing today. When the contest starts, you’ll grab a gnome, wait for it to be magically charmed with a paint charm, twirl it around your head and throw it as far as you can. It won’t be easy, because these gnomes haven’t eaten in a little while, and they’re getting pretty feisty. You may get bitten, but the prize is well worth the pain. Plus, I have little bandages if you really want them.” He smiled, sitting cross-legged. “The winner of today’s contest will receive a basket full of Honeyduke’s best! Ice Mice, Acid Pops, Bertie Botts, Cockroach Clusters…You name it and it’s probably in the basket.”

“We’ve got it sitting in The Three Broomsticks now; you wouldn’t want the chocolate to melt now, would ya?” Ah yes, this would be a fun little adventure, and maybe he’d get to make a new friend. Charlie didn’t care how old someone was, as long as they were fun.

When the young man crouched down, Eirene tried to stand up a little straighter, practically on her tiptoes. She wasn’t that short!- for her age, anyway. In comparison to the gangly teenager she looked tiny.

“Do you have magic folks?” he asked the unnamed child, “Because we have these things here,” he waved his hand toward the caged gnomes, “that like to pester our gardens and yards.”

“Of course not!” She shook her head fiercely. “They only bother, you know…” she lowered her voice and leaned in. “Neglected gardens. The gardens at my home are probably the nicest in the county,” She informed him, completely serious. Her parents actually paid the gardeners extra to hide the distasteful creatures from her sight.

Listening as he described gnomes and the act of throwing them, her eyebrows drew together in confusion. The process didn’t make much sense! The gnomes found their way back to the same place eventually, it seemed. Eirene stared at their wrinkled faces. They had to be the most unpleasant neighbors.

“Could you levitate them somewhere else? Or, apparate them?” She asked, thinking about Keegan’s backyard just sitting there, unsuspecting and muggle-ish. Eirene shook her head and smiled sweetly at the teenager again, putting that thought away for later.

As Charlie explained the rules, Eirene made various faces of distress. First there was the mention of paint, which could splatter. Then there was the throwing, which could strain her arm. And then, worst of all, the biting! Oh Merlin, the biting.

Eirene was about to refuse when he mentioned the prize. Candy?! Her eyes lit up. Her mother only let her have one piece of candy every night, and they were sour lozenges that tasted like cough syrup. She shifted her feet, torn. Chocolate waited for her in the Three Broomsticks! Eirene licked her lips and made her decision.

A quick glance around told her that the lines were forming around the food stands, not the gnomes. “If I’m the only one who participates, does that mean I automatically win?” She said slyly, calculating how little effort it would take to toss the ugly thing a few feet.

Charles, for once, didn't have to be escorted everywhere by one of his parents. or at least in theory. Charles knew his father too well not to know fora  fact that one of the family would be close by. Near the Three Broomsticks, Charles spotted a 'throw-a-gnome' game. looked like fun. the little things were a constant menace near Harcroft Manor. Heading over there, he asked " Excuse me, can I play?" He asked, quite politely.

Sauntering through the crowd with a vaguely dissatisfied (or, more accurately, bored) expression on her sharp face, Lorraine Irving wondered why she had found her way to Hogsmeade so early, when all that really mattered of the day's itinerary was the concert later that evening. She could have been sleeping, browsing for a parttime job of which former Hogwarts adviser most would certainly not approve, or perhaps unpacking boxes of belongings in the new flat she shared with Malynda. Their own first home as adults. Freedom. And here was Laney, still standing in the shadow of Hogwarts.

Malynda's tattoo booth the day before had been a great success in the Irving girl's own estimation-- and her friend had certainly made the efforts of the pair of face painters not only laughable, but double-over-and-start-hyperventalating-in-an-effort-to-scream-with-laughter laughable. Laney would have paid them to go pity themselves in the Three Broomsticks, but she couldn't have been bothered to do more than roll her owls, or scowl in passing. Or (once or twice), lift her wand in the direction of a freshly painted piece of Azkabait and ask whether he wanted a tail to go with those lush whiskers.

Flicking a clove-spiced cigarette into the cobbles of the high road, she strode over it with her boot and not a second's thought, and headed for the first cluster of people to catch her eye: oddly enough, it was a vaguely familiar Hufflepuff a year below hers, and a freckled English rose who had to be no more than ten or eleven. Laney caught the last bit of what she was saying, and intervened without bothering to consider the context. It was much easier to forgo aloofness and careful calculation around badgers and babies.

“If I’m the only one who participates, does that mean I automatically win?”

"No, it means you're pathetic," she said casually, leaning against a pole with decorative flags on it. Her eyes found the 'Throw A Gnome' sign and she nodded her chin toward the boy-- what was his name?-- Robards. "I'll play against her," she said, keeping her eyes on Charlie, a hint of humor dancing in them. The rest of her face dripped with mock innocence that obviously a sign that Laney was up to no good. It was too easy. She was, without exaggeration, about to take candy from a baby. She didn't even like Bertie Botts all that much, but the Acid Pops were great for keeping herself on her toes during early morning practices... when she'd still had early morning practices. Now they were just great for silly, time-wasting drinking games: the sort of thing Laney lived for right now, as a new graduate, and, finally, and adult witch.

Laney didn't even notice the other child until his voice floated to her ears. She looked around both ways, and then down, zeroing in on him. "Two for one. Goodie," she said in a blasé drawl.

Glancing back toward Charlie, Laney straightened up. "So where are the little monsters?" She asked, ready to get her claws on a gnome or two. It was actually sort of entertaining, now that she was going to do it. Her brothers, for all of their failures, had always been good at terrorizing garden gnomes. Especially Clinton. He had a way of befriending them, only to betray a whole colony. Laney had learned from the best. She was a bit less cordial, though.

outfit

"Yes, I do believe it would, little miss!" Charlie began, "But it appears we have another taker, so that’s out of the question now!” He said, turning slightly to accommodate for the boy joining their little gang. “And what are your names?” He asked, smiling kindly to the two soon-to-be first years.

"No, it means you're pathetic,"

“Hey!” Charlie began, standing up. “That’s no way to be now!” Then he saw who it was. She was a recent grad from Hogwarts, what was her name? Linny? Lanny? Laney! That’s right. Still, that didn’t give her any reason to be mean.

"I'll play against her,”

Of course you will. he thought. “Alrighty then, looks like we can get started then.  The rules are simple, pick up a gnome and throw it as far as you can. The paint has been spelled so that it won’t splatter, it’ll only come off when the gnome lands. We count from the initial hit, not how far it bounces or how far it walks. If you get bit, well sorry, but that’s all part of the fun! Soooo… Let’s begin!” Charlie smiled a big toothy grin and walked over to the cage of twittering beasts.

“Now, once I open the cage, reach down and grab one. Be careful to only grab one, and then let’s see you toss. It doesn’t matter who goes first, just come and get one!” He said. Oh this was going to be fun. Was it sadistic to hope that someone would get bitten? Hard?

"I'm Charles Harcroft." Charles replied, frowning at what looked to be either a soon-to-be-7th year, or a recent Hogwarts grad who had insulted the other player.

Reaching down to the gnomes, he grabbe done, which promptly bit his finger. "OUCH" he yelled, then started swinging the gnome around his head. Then, he tilted the angle of the spin, so the gnome would be launched at an angle. what angle, you may ask? 45 degrees. Then, when he was satisfied with the speed and angle, he released the gnome and let it fly out. He watched it go higher and higher, actually going signifciantly higher than the tops of the houses around. then, at about 45 feet from where Charles had launched it, it peaked in height, and started coming back down, still at an angle, considerably shallower though. In fact, it eventually landed with a massive thud 90 feet away, and didn't bounce. It eventually got up, looking rather dazed, and raised it's hand giving what was unmistakably a very rude hand gesture*. " I didn't think gnomes knew that guesture... or were so rude" Charles said.

Beads of sweat were forming on her neck from the heavy weight of her hair; dreads perhaps not the smartest idea come summer. She had done this just over a week ago and it had appeared to be a brilliant idea at the time. Lucky for her she had been bright enough not to wear her tights like she did nearly every other season of the year. No today she had just bare pale legs exposed to the world. Her runner clad feet leading her around Hogsmeade for the Woodcroft festival. The fact that Astrid apparated here on her own accord was brilliant, it meant her parents didn’t have to come along and leave their theories and experiments. Sure they loved spending time with Astrid but Astrid wanted to leave when she wanted to leave, not when their experiments or work was done because what if she missed something. Astrid was not a selfish person but sometimes her parents just got lost in their work and it took forever and she missed things entirely.

Well now that was not going to happen and now she was free to roam when she wanted too. She was looking out for Charlie as he had told her that he had some sort of event at the festival but what she was not aware. She was searching him out when she heard his voice and she headed in that direction. She didn’t think it was anything mean spirited but as she neared the location and as she overhead her blood began to boil.

“CHARLIE ROBARDS!” Astrid yelled out in furious anger. “What are you doing to those gnomes!” He had locked them up and was going to use them for a Gnome Toss? “Throw a gnome!” She said in a horrified voice as her eyes widened. “You cannot be serious!” Astrid had enough problem with people throwing them off their property (hers included) but they had more of a right, but for recreation now that was disgusting. “You are being cruel!” She said as she marched towards him. Best friend or not she was going to give him an earful on this matter. “I cannot believe you!” She rounded on the others, “Or you for taking in part in such an activity.”

“Don’t throw gnomes! Even if they are on your property! Escorted them kindly from your domain!” She said sternly to anyone that listened. “Merlin’s beard…they don’t like it.” She sighed heavily in a frustrated way.

Outfit

Eirene was just complimenting herself on her witty remark, when a dry, bored voice sounded near them. Her eyes widened and she turned around to stare at the woman, instantly offended and intimidated. Pathetic?! She’d thought she was being smart! A flicker of hurt crossed her face, but then she turned towards the young man again (with more flounce than was necessary).

"I'll play against her.”

Oh, no. That wasn’t fair! Eirene’s back went rigid and she gave the young man a pitiful look, hoping he’d tell the woman that she was far too old, no, ancient, to be playing a game like this. The woman exuded a confident, cool, and casual air that made Eirene feel very young and silly in comparison. She didn’t like this at all.

She sneaked a look at the woman’s arms: muscular, thin. Eirene looked at her left arm: soft and flabby, very little muscle.

Before she could make up an excuse and leave with her pride intact, a boy appeared beside her. He seemed young, around her age! Still, she wasn’t sure she wanted to stay here. The young man asked for their names then, and Eirene hesitated, not wanting to be rude.

The boy introduced himself as Charles Harcroft. Harcroft! It sounded very familiar.

“Eirene Antonopoulos,” she said, in a voice less pompous than normal.

The man went on to explain the rules in more detail, with a cheer and excitement that Eirene couldn’t match. She made no move towards the gnomes when he opened the cage, allowing someone else to try first, which was very unusual for her. Charles stepped forward. For a moment she desperately hoped the gnome would bite off his finger so he’d have to leave the game, and then she felt really guilty when the gnome did bite his finger! The creature just didn’t bite it off.

Her head swiveled round and round, watching him swing the nasty little gnome and finally release it, where it flew a far distance and landed by another shop. Eirene didn’t even think to gasp at the rude gesture the gnome made. She knew she had no chance of winning.

“I think I hear my mother…” she started to say, disheartened, when an angry voice sounded from around the Three Broomsticks. Eirene looked up, puzzled. A girl in dreads appeared, wearing a strange ensemble of a t-shirt, shorts, and suspenders. Eirene didn’t have proper time to judge her because she started screaming at Charlie about how horrible it was to throw a gnome. The phrase written across the girl’s shirt was also very strange: Save a broom, ride a keeper. Eirene blinked. She knew what a keeper was. She knew the rules of Quidditch, vaguely. She knew…

Her eyes bugged out of her head. Could it mean…? Eirene looked at Charles, the young boy, wondering if he understood too. She then dissolved into giggles, clutching her stomach and wiping tears of mirth from her eyes.

“I know!” She looked up at the girl, still giggling. “I know what your t-shirt means! Or, I think… no, I get it! I get it!” She announced proudly, face flushed. Then she thought of something sneaky. Oh, Effie would be proud!

“And you’re absolutely right,” she told the girl sweetly. “Gnomes…” she could barely look at the creatures without wrinkling her nose, so she focused on the girl’s dreads instead- it was less appalling, though not by much. “Gnomes really just need patience and understanding, don’t they? No wonder they’re so grumpy! I don’t think they’ve eaten today,” she said, shaking her head and pretending sadness. She avoided looking at Charlie Robards, too, for fear of dissolving into giggles and ruining her act.

“But, we can still play the game!” Eirene bounced a little, feeling very smart. She would prove she was not pathetic! “I can levitate a gnome with my wand. I’ve been practicing levitation at home! It won’t hurt it,” she said reasonably. Plus, it couldn’t bite her fingers that way.

Ignoring the do-gooder (weren’t all Hufflepuffs sick in the head like that, anyway? Hopeless, the lot of them), Laney merely smiled a calm, casual, but also decidedly indifferent smile. “We’re not in school, Robards. Save the lecture.” Keeping her arms crossed, she moved her gaze back to the children, lingering there in hopes of intimidating it. It was easy; they were easy prey. But Laney wished to waste the afternoon, bask in the newfound freedom of summer... which would last into the autumn, and afterward.

The rules floated in like a lazy cloud, and she paid only half mind, except for the bit about gnomes possibly sinking their teeth into her skin. She would have none of it. Her dark eyes moved away from her competition-- two ten year olds, one in braids and the other hardly larger. Settling on the colored creatures, she loomed over them suspiciously for a moment before reaching in a lanky arm and plucking out an emerald one. She dodged the rest and held up her prize; the prize before the prize, rather. It tried to put up a fight, which Laney promptly ignored, extending it away from her figure by the cuff of its ugly little neck. She was a seeker, but playing chaser for the day, even on the ground, had its allure. She smiled blandly at the thing as it twisted against its will like a hangman.

Poised to give it a throw, and possessing blind faith that she would beat the boy’s record without much effort, Laney was distracted by the newcomer’s voice. She fumbled in her first attempt, and the little pest crumpled from her grasp and jumped to its feet, letting out a bit of paint and running away with a squeal. Fear or elusiveness, she didn’t know, or care. Grimacing, the Slytherin alumnus took in the picture of Astrid O’Malley, whose name she knew because the Ravenclaw never shut the hell up.

If Hufflepuffs were do-gooders, Astrid O’Malley was a social saint who belonged in a psych ward. Was there a cause she didn’t front? It was a shame, really, because Laney rather liked her hair.

“O’Malley, you just ruined my toss...” Stepping away from the green paint, which was already drying on the ground, thanks to the late summer sun, Laney moved closer to the blonde and fished her cigarettes out of her pocket again. With luck, the girl would have some moral dilemma with the tobacco industry. Anything Laney could do to help... Lighting one with her wand, she took a drag and crossed her arms again. The smoke snaked in Astrid's direction, and, though she spoke to Charlie, her eyes remained on the girl. “I think I should get a free shot.”

What was the little girl saying? About levitation? The Irving girl furrowed a brow. “That sort of ruins the whole idea... throw a gnome.” Clearly she wasn’t a quidditch fan.