(Late afternoon, around 4:00)


Fauna sat nervously in the empty classroom, her hands resting stiffly on the desk and her feet curled around the two front chair legs. Her backpack slouched on the floor beside her, mimicking her bad posture, and her gaze kept flicking at the door whenever the sound of footsteps and voices came closer. So far, no one had tried opening the door, or peeking in through the little window. This made her worry.

She heaved a sigh and thought about the announcements she’d posted. Twice this morning she’d forgotten some important tidbit of information, like the time of the meeting, and the location of the classroom, so she’d had to run all over the school again making edits. What else had she forgotten? She had the time, the location, and the date of the meeting. She’d clearly said ‘Student Art Booth for Remembering Day week’.

Fauna frowned and rested her chin in her hand. Maybe she should have said that the meeting was open to all years, and they could work on a collaborative project, or work individually. Perhaps the text had been too small, or the handwriting too messy, or-

She smacked her forehead and groaned. Fauna had forgotten to make a drawing. How could she have missed that? She was supposed to announce an art meeting, for Merlin’s sake, and there were no pictures on the fliers. No one in their right mind would come. Fauna shook her head glumly, stood up, and gathered her backpack. She’d come to the meeting ten minutes early, and had waited there for what seemed like forever, so there was no sense prolonging the embarrassment. The common room would be a much more comfortable place to work, anyway. Fauna would simply go back to the common room and work on a project by herself.

Her nerves faded away slowly, but instead of feeling relieved, she only felt worse. Disappointment caused her head to droop, and she quickened her steps and reached for the doorknob of the classroom, when suddenly the door swung open. She took a step back in surprise.

Atticus had heard of the art booth through the grape vine having ignored most of the announcements as usual. Rarely had the school given him an option to do what he truly loved. Though he had to admit his studies in Defense Against the Dark Arts and Transfiguration had been perking up. It was still slow go being that studies were never his strong suit. Atticus didn't really have to study to get decent grades and if he read his text through his grades weren't actually bad.

In his hand Atticus held sketching's of the pictures he saw in the history books. Both in charcoal, and color. If he liked to paint more he might have even attempted that medium as well. But at the moment he was only looking to create a couple photos to give them the real depth of his work.

Sliding through the door, Atticus was shocked to see only one person sitting there. Fauna sat looking rather nervous across from the door way. He knew her from around, but not well enough to ever have a full conversation one way or another. There had been whispers here and there about her but nothing substantial worth noting in his book.

"What no crowd?" His voice was low as he greeted the girl. Walking towards her he pulled the photos out of his messenger bag and placed them on the table for her view. "I wasn't sure what you were looking for, but I decided to give you something to look at. A test of my skills if you will." Atticus tilted his head to the side looking her over.

Waker was not an artist, beyond the very occasional and (very private) little scribble or two she made and seconds later vehemently erased from the corners of too-punctually-completed test papers or particularly indulgent journal entries. And even those were quite dismal. They were decidedly nothing with which the Ravenclaw wished to burden human eyes. Thus, Waker's reasons for attending the advertised art meeting that prefaced the school-wide Remembering Day celebration were strictly for preparation's sake.

When she reached the classroom in question, she double-checked the note card in her hand before leaning toward the little window. She blinked, taking in the scene of two lone students (artists?), and then looked down at her watch. She wasn't too early, or even early at all. Perhaps Hogwarts was lacking in the creativity department. But Waker had the funny feeling it had less to do with a shortage of artists and more to do with the fact that her peers were eternally lazy and ungrateful. Well, they would be the ones working at the Leaky Cauldron in two years.

Pulling the door open, she stepped in to discover Fauna, whom she expected and knew was the organizer due in part to the recognizable handwriting on the posters, and... that Atticus boy from Slytherin.

"Hello," she spoke hesitantly, approaching the pair. She looked to the door behind her, and back again. Projecting her tone more loudly and slightly more enthusiastically, she spoke again. "Fauna, I hope you don't mind, but I enlarged a few of the announcements near my common room. I think we have some decent artists..." Her eyes were kind as they appraised the Hufflepuff, but became slightly more aloof as they traveled around the empty room.

"And," she continued, her head snapping back to the girl. "I'm afraid I'm rubbish at drawing and everything related to it, but if there's anything I can do to help with organizing or advertising, I'd be happy. I'm giving tours on Remembering Day, so it would be a good idea for me to get the general gist of your project beforehand." With that said, Waker smiled briefly and took a seat, smoothing the edges of her skirt, and attempting to will an obedient stampede through the door by (calmly) staring daggers at it.


outfit

Fauna stepped back to let the boy through the door, and then took a seat for the second time. She stared at him. Atticus, the quiet Slytherin who was always hunched over a sketchbook or frowning in thought. Fauna had heard he was a skilled artist, but she’d never gotten up the nerve to talk to him, and he wasn’t exactly friendly. Fauna bit her lip. Well, he wasn’t rude, but he definitely kept hung out with some rude people, and by people she meant Ava Grosvenor. That was more than enough for her to stay far, far away.

Yet here he was, and she was supposed to be welcoming.

“What no crowd?”

Fauna shrugged and shook her head, almost guiltily. She watched him walk towards her to set a stack of photos on the desk. He said something about not being sure if it was what she was looking for, a test of his skills, and though he spoke clearly enough Fauna blinked at him in confusion. She glanced down at the artwork, and then back up at him. Her fingers grazed the edge of one photo gingerly, as if she was afraid she might smudge it. Then her eyebrows flew up into her hair.

He was asking for her opinion. Atticus assumed she was the leader of this group, and as Fauna glanced around the room in a slight panic, she realized it was a very logical assumption. No one else was here to make decisions, and she’d been the one to think of the idea and create announcements. By Merlin’s knotted beard, she was the leader of this art group. Dismay flickered across her face, but she leaned forward and finally looked at the artwork he was showing her.

“Oh… well, I…” she murmured, to fill the silence. The door swung open and her head snapped up. Fauna didn’t know whether to be hopeful or worried. What if someone’s artwork was bad, really bad, and she had to judge it? Oh Merlin, how would she tell them?

“Waker!” Her face split into a surprised smile. Fauna had no idea Waker did any art… her eyes widened for a moment. If Waker’s artwork was awful, she didn’t know what she’d do. Fauna gazed at her friend’s scarf as if searching for answers. She would just smile and accept it, it wouldn’t matter anyway, because it was about creativity and-

"I'm afraid I'm rubbish at drawing and everything related to it, but if there's anything I can do to help with organizing or advertising,..”

Fauna let out the breath she’d been holding. Waker was a life saver. She definitely needed to find a way to repay the girl one of these days.

“Thank you,” she told her sincerely. “I don’t know anything about, well, hanging artwork or displaying it, so I guess that’s where… organization comes in.” She fiddled with a loose strand of hair around her face, thinking. “And I’m glad you made the art announcements bigger. You know, some people, they paste over announcements they don’t care about just because they can…” she trailed off, cheeks flushing. Fauna had done that before, when she’d needed to find a book she’d lost, or something else important to her, and up went her announcement over the latest Quidditch poster.

Her mind quickly switched gears. “Giving tours, huh? I can see you doing that. You’re going to be great at it,” Fauna nodded, then glanced back at Atticus, realizing that she almost forgot about him.

“Artwork! Right.” Fauna studied the sketches before her, slowly but surely focusing on the art and forgetting about the two people in the room. That’s the way art should work, she thought. These sketches were immediately recognizable because of the themes they portrayed, the battle and the people involved, the battered castle walls and the spells fired every which way. However, the illustrations from their history books were more technical, and while these were certainly drawn by a skilled hand, they had emotion. He’d caught the expressions of fear and determination on people’s faces, the tension of the figures, and the chaos of the scene.

Fauna shifted through the papers carefully, then set them down when she was done looking. It took a moment for her to come out of her ‘art trance’, so she blinked at him, and finally smiled. She was impressed.

“These are… great.” Her brain scrambled for the right words. She knew what she was thinking, if only she could say it. “Um, definitely something we’ll want in the show. They’re not good drawings, but-“ Her face paled. “I mean, they’re not just good drawings, but they have feeling behind them.”

Okay, it was time for her to stop talking. Fauna bent her head and shuffled through her bag until she found her sketchbook. Hesitating for a moment while her stomach twisted in protest, she handed it to Atticus and smiled weakly.

Fauna had been thinking about this project for months, though she wasn’t sure why. At first she’d studied the illustrations in their history books, hoping to glean some understanding or knowledge from them, but it just left her frustrated. She had so many ideas, and yet she lacked the strong technical skill to make her drawings look natural, as if you could reach inside them and find a real world in there. So her first drawings consisted of awkward, complicated scenes filled with action and figures. Slowly she’d moved away from the naturalistic, and more towards expressive faces, where she focused completely on sadness, or anger, or victory. Then she’d brought in color, trying reds, oranges, and other warm colors, until she threw in green on a whim.

It made some of the faces look a bit ghastly, though the majority had just a hint of the color on a cheekbone, or highlighting the hair. The last pages of the sketchbook had outlines of shadowy figures, surrounded by an eerie green, almost being suffocated.

Fauna didn’t know exactly what she meant by these images, but they felt right to her, so she just kept drawing them. Now though, doubt crept up her spine, and she peered at Waker and Atticus, trying to gauge their reactions.

When it came to being realistic in his drawings, Atticus attempted to bring out the purist images from the subject he drew. While many went for abstract and new age pictures in their designs Atticus was still fascinated by the human form. Always drawing and sketching one person or the other. If he could capture their features in the precise minute they are in an extreme state of feeling it was what he considered his greatest achievement.

Much like that girl who sat across the room in Defense Against the Dark Arts. He could draw her from memory without even batting an eye. That was different though, Atticus had noticed her, truly noticed her, earlier this term. When she flitted past him the one day without noticing him, but that didn't matter. No one had to notice him for the pictures to flow from his finger tips.

Atticus watched as Fauna, who started to look a little flustered, took his pictures in her hand. While that was happening the door popped open once more. The girl who swished through the opening looked terribly familiar. Though he knew her by face he rarely cared about names. She had been around but never quite caught his interest enough to draw her form. So instead she pushed aside from his attention, with many others nowadays. Not that he had focused on that girl from his class but he was certainly distracted.

Their simple exchange left him without much of a comment. Crossing his arms, Atticus noted his hand was smudged with ink once more. He would have to remember to clean it off before he went back to his room. His roommates already thought he spent too  much time with ink and parchment. The last they needed was more ammo.

“Artwork! Right.”

Fauna's words snapped him out of his deep self involved thoughts. Atticus watched her as she studied his photos. If he hadn't been told before that it's weird to draw people when the mood strikes you he might have very well taken up that moment to sketch the first few lines of Fauna's figure. She looked so zoned in, he couldn't help but find it interesting.

She told him they were good and his brow furrowed, "I know they are," he hissed almost silently. It wasn't  until she fixed her statement that the now creased brow of his relaxed. It was a big step showing anyone his pictures, so the thought of her possibly ready to criticize put him on the defensive. "Good, well I am glad you enjoy them. Those are only a small sampling of what I can do. Is anyone going to work with clay of some sort or perhaps wooden figures? There will be other mediums on display I'm sure..." It was an Art Booth, he expected there two be more than just his pictures, something this Fauna girl drew and the organizational skills of the Ravenclaw who had just walked in. If that was all, the booth would be nothing more than a display of a couple pictures and three bored students sitting at it. Atticus shuddered to think of them being forced to play cozy while other students passed them without a simple glance.

The thoughts were swirling in his head as Fauna took her own sketch pad and shoveled it in his direction. Atticus cocked a brow as he felt the weight of the book in his hands. Thumbing through a few pages, he scanned the images drawn there with his analytical eyes. They bounced from picture to picture, one after another then back again.

 Before he closed the book and looked at her. Really looked at her. The Puff was a contender. Atticus wasn't sure if he was pleased with the realization or if he didn't like competition in his field. Pleased, yes he had to say. To put his pictures up against paint by numbers would have been degrading rubbish.

"So you can capture emotion with color... I do like that. Dramatizing the moment, and the images. It's almost abstract but not." Taking a step towards her his green eyes once more raked over her features, "I like them. I can definitely see the passion in the work" even if it was still in it's infancy. She had potential. 'Curious, if this wasn't the subject I wonder what she might put on paper...' He thought to himself. "What do you draw besides battle scenes?" The question left his lips faster than he could grab it. So much for avoiding small talk of any sort, or really getting to know the girl before him. Atticus looked back over at Waker unsure of what to discuss with her. They never talked before, if this never came up it surely would have stayed that way. He was of course focusing on who he saw as the head of this little unit, he wanted to know what sort of person hid behind those pictures.

“Thank you. I don’t know anything about, well, hanging artwork or displaying it, so I guess that’s where… organization comes in. And I’m glad you made the art announcements bigger. You know, some people, they paste over announcements they don’t care about just because they can…”

Waker nodded repeatedly, hoping to convey that it was no problem at all, and that she completely understood the dilemma of rounding up their fellow students. How many times had she tried in her Hogwarts career? Nothing short of a thick rope and a very strong Silencing Spell seemed particularly effective in getting people to do anything constructive. Not that Waker had tried it firsthand. Kidnap was unfortunately grounds for losing more than a few House Points.

"Fauna, I'm sure people care about art," she insisted, trying to sound reassuring. "And your cause is a million times more interesting and legitimate than most of those announcements. Some of our... peers are just a little slow. It'll take them time to realize anything is going on. But they'll come. And I'll help get the word out." Waker knew a thing or two about avertising, despite not being the castle's most social creature. Getting people to listen outside of the classroom was trickier but still similar to getting them to listen to speeches, debates, and presentations during lessons.

“Giving tours, huh? I can see you doing that. You’re going to be great at it."

"Thanks, I hope so." Waker smiled lightly, conveying as much confidence as was possible. "You're the only group to have called a meeting yet, actually, so..."

The major point for Waker-- and the point she hoped to share with whoever decided to show up late-- was that all of the Remebering Day activities would be interconnected. Waker figured it was imperative to understand exactly how that would work. She didn't fancy leading around a group of twenty people, from screaming babies to deaf old women, without being a certified Hogwarts Remembering Day celebration specialist. What was not an option, was further contributing to the crying and deafness of the crowd. She knew she would need cooperation on the part of everyone else to ensure this, and it pained her slightly to think about it.

Waker felt out of her element, sitting there while Fauna and Atticus poured over what was presumably a taste of his artwork-- and then hers. She resisted the urge to peak, feeling that it was inappropriate. Instead, she extracted a notebook and quill from her bag, ready to start jotting down major points and ideas that she would need to remember on the big day. Unfortunately, as the exchange between the two artists became slightly more audible, Waker found herself feeling uncomfortable and useless. She folded her legs and straightened her spine, choosing to speak up on something Atticus had mentioned after his initial whispering.

"I heard something about different mediums?" She raised a brow, staring between them. "I would imagine there are a few lesser known statues and paintings and things in storage, somewhere in the castle. Maybe they could be pulled out and polished-- some that relate to or recall the battle in some way..." She knew it was weak, as this was supposed to be a student art initiative. "I mean only if you need something extra."

Fauna could understand why Atticus’ first reaction was a bit defensive, especially with her awful timing in slipping up her words. Luckily, the tension quickly dissolved and he got over the awkward moment. Fauna, however, still felt her heart racing.

“Is anyone going to work with clay of some sort or perhaps wooden figures? There will be other mediums on display I'm sure..."

She gave him an apologetic look, as if it was her fault that so few people showed up. Logically, she knew there wasn’t much more she could do, but she wanted their art booth to be successful, and dare she say it, fun.

“It depends, on, uh, who submits their work,” she told him lamely.

Fauna kept throwing Atticus anxious glances as he flipped through her sketchbook. Normally she’d interpret the furrowed brow, intense stare, and general grim expression as negative, but Atticus looked that way so often that she had no idea what to expect. When he closed the book and stared at her again, Fauna tried not to fidget. He had one of those analytical, searching gazes. It could mean he either liked her work, or he was concentrating on transfiguring her into something- maybe a paintbrush. Maybe he was low on supplies.

His next words surprised her completely, making her feel relieved and a bit more comfortable with him. He understood. He actually appreciated what she was trying to do (not that she knew what she was trying to do, anyway, but it was the principal of the matter). A blush rose on her cheeks and she glanced down, happy to be complimented. She had a hunch that Atticus rarely sugarcoated his opinions. Even though he was a ‘sneaky Slytherin’ (and spent time with Ava), he seemed very direct.

"What do you draw besides battle scenes?"

Fauna raised her eyebrows. “Oh. Well, things I can see, mostly. Plants. Animals. People,” she shrugged. She’d been trying to do more technical studies these past couple of years so she could improve the naturalism and believability of her drawings. “But… sometimes I like to create things. Imagine worlds.” She opened her mouth again and then shut it quickly. She could say  more, but she wasn’t sure yet if she could trust him. Battle scenes were somewhat understandable, but drawing abstracted, alien planets might not make sense to him. Fauna liked thinking about the creatures that inhabited these worlds, and at times she paid more attention to how animals looked and moved in her Care of Magical Creatures class, rather than what she was supposed to be learning.

“Sometimes I think I’ve thought of something new, and then I find it in a library book later,” Fauna glanced at Waker, who might share her amusement.

When her friend mentioned bringing in related statues and paintings out from storage, Fauna perked up. Now that was an idea.

“I like that! It would be a…. a comparison. Here’s what other artists thought of war and history, and here’s what we think.”

She beamed at her. Waker sat with her legs crossed, her hand poised for taking notes, and Fauna wanted to hug her for it. As she thought of something she could add to the discussion, she straightened and leaned forward.

“Are you two, uh, any good at Charms?” She blinked at them, trying to find the best way to explain it. “Motion spells. Animating… you know how the photos and paintings in the castle all have movement? Can we… do that?”

Fauna had never really tried it before, at least not for her own artwork. If they could integrate it into the show somehow, especially if it was going to be a small show, she thought that they’d have a better chance of engaging people. Perhaps she and Atticus could work together, taking turns on one project. She could start it, give the piece to him for a while, and they could go back and forth. If the layers of the project could be captured magically, viewers could actually see the progression and how the image evolved. The changes and movement of the artwork could be a whole different dimension to the artwork itself.

She held in the rest of her jumbled thoughts for now, waiting to see what they thought. There were only three people present, and already they were getting somewhere. It felt good. It made her glad she'd put up those announcements.

Waker would be giving tours? Tours of what, he wasn't sure at the moment. With only the two of them showing any of their artistic talent he wondered if there would be enough for them to have an exhibit at all. "Suppose there would need to be a decent enough venue if we include more than just a few pictures here and there."

Moving up to a desk he hopped onto it taking a seat and grabbing his sketch pad to ink out a layout out. If they had a large space he could see them including older sculptures and items from the school. "If there is enough space, I think you may be onto something. To pull in some of the older art that was created throughout the castle." No one said it had to be only student's work from what he had figured.

“Are you two, uh, any good at Charms?” She blinked at them, trying to find the best way to explain it. “Motion spells. Animating… you know how the photos and paintings in the castle all have movement? Can we… do that?”

"Charms, well I'm sure if I practiced it a couple times I can figure something out." The spell to make paintings move had never been something he thought of using before. His sketches were mostly stationary aside from the ones used with ink from an art store with supplies for that specific use. "We could use the paintings from the school that were around during key moments of the battle... maybe they would give their accounts of what they saw like living art... I don't know."

Besides with only three people involved in the current art exhibit he didn't see it expanding much more than a few pictures each. "Where is everyone else?" Atticus tried to hide the irritation as he sketched on. How can no one else be interested in this?

Atticus looking up at Fauna and produced a picture of what they could do to optimize the images being portrayed. Pointing in the corner of the picture he sighed, "We could do some pictures there." Moving towards the center he constructed walls, "Perhaps a painting or two on either side of this wall if there are any available. Maybe figures and sculptures over towards the west wall," he continued to think and calculate. "There should be a consistent story being told. Something that explains the depths of what occurred."

That's when it hit him. "Do you think when they first walk in on the floor written in ink that disappears and reappears the names and positions of those we lost?"  Chewing on his lip he wrote things down on the paper as they came to him. Before he knew it he looked at both girls and he shut his mouth. It appeared he was taking over the conversation and he hadn't meant to do that.

“Sometimes I think I’ve thought of something new, and then I find it in a library book later."

Waker looked up from the blank, fresh sheet of notebook parchment, locked eyes with Fauna, and returned the smile in a discreet but knowing manner. While she had never experienced it with art, Waker had occasionally run across seemingly-obscure theses, rune interpretations, or other random bits of information she was then forced to remove from her homework papers or support them with quotes. It was the double-edged sword of knowledge; part of it was relieving, and the other part annoying, at least for Waker.

Pleased with both of their reactions to her own suggestion, Waker continued to share a small, reserved smile. But a smile nevertheless. "I think it would tie in nicely with any presentations or performances others might give," she noted. The smoother the lead from booth to booth, or whatever other activities which would be conducted on Remembering Day, the better. Waker was thankful that someone as friendly and agreeable as Fauna was running this meeting, and that Atticus, however quiet and distant he seemed in general, was also amiable. "As for a venue..." Waker considered the boy's point. She had assumed all of the events would be in the same area. But now she could not decide whether that would inspire or hamper the whole purpose of visitor's day. Would friends and family be roaming the entire castle and school grounds, or simply be confined to the Entrance Hall and the parties in Hogsmeade? "We probably need to talk to a professor," she suggested lamely.

“Are you two, uh, any good at Charms? Motion spells. Animating… you know how the photos and paintings in the castle all have movement? Can we… do that?”

"I'm not bad," Waker admitted, trying not to sound too self-assured. She sometimes got ahead of herself, attempting to prove her talents as a witch. It often became a competition in the classroom. But now was hardly the appropriate time, particularly because this meeting was about art, and Waker was the one person in the room who couldn't sketch, paint, or bring some other artistic vision to life to save her soul. "I think that's a fantastic idea, too. It really puts a wizarding emphasis on it." As a muggleborn witch, Waker felt this was an important distinction when celebrating a wizarding holiday. "I've never really worked with paintings, though, so I think we may have to visit the library. There's bound to be some sort of art-charm manual..." She trailed off, now wondering which section of the school's vast collection of tomes she would scour first. If Atticus was going to master such magic, Waker felt she should try also.

As the Slytherin began to voice his visualizations, Waker was only reminded why she wasn't an artist. It irked her slightly, to be the least advantaged person in the room. It was not something she was used to, but at the same time, it was probably a good and humbling lesson for the girl (at least subconsciously). She began to write meticulously, attempting to commit to paper the concepts Atticus was now suggesting. If she imagined it in purely practical, organizational terms, it was easier.

"Do you think when they first walk in on the floor written in ink that disappears and reappears the names and positions of those we lost?"

Surprised by this idea, but also quite intrigued, Waker kept silent. She looked back and forth between the two, finally settling on the Hufflepuff in charge. She sometimes let house differences get to her head, categorizing people too quickly as, say, 'ruthless' Slytherins. She found herself stilly applauding the concept. It was respectable and very in tune with meaning of Remembering Day.

Shuffling of feet and a screeching halt followed by the sound of crashing items declared the arrival of Adelia Delacroix who had somehow conveniently forgot about the meeting Fauna had told her about. She had been sketching for a good hour or two when it finally hit her square in the face. Picking up the pieces of armor next to the classroom, she mumbled 'sorry' while her face was burning from the spectacle she had caused. Snickers from those around her certainly did not help the situation - nice one, Addie, ya klutz, she told herself before peeking her head in.

The meeting, by the looks of it, had been going on for quite some time. Another point for the loser, eh? Shaking her head to get rid of her lack of time skills today, Addie headed over to a spot near the others, sitting down before opening the sketch pad once more. The drawing was turning out more or less of her father in wizard robes, or something of sort, warding off bad guys. After all, couldn't Malcolm be something more than just the usual Muggle father? A giggle escaped her lips before looking up at the group, attempting for five minutes to pay attention.

"Sorry, sorry. What have I missed? It's obvious a great deal. My mind, kinda y'know....wandered and forgot this meeting," she mumbled rather in jumbled speech before looking back down to the sketch pad. "If it's about Remembering Day, I can help definitely. I mean, I've done murals before, that's not too hard. Just a great deal of paint and such." Looking at Fauna, Adelia smiled briefly at her before finding herself immersed into her father's picture.

She was still curious what he'd do for Remembering Day - after all, it wasn't every day that he, Malcolm Blake, got commissions. It paid the bills, not to mention, he'd be busy but in a much more playful mood. Addie could easily attest him being moody was not fun at all. Looking back down to the sketch, she began to add more details to his cloak and eventually his face, putting stubble on his face, smiling as she waited to hear the next details while keeping herself preoccupied.

Fauna rested her chin in her hands and watched Atticus construct how the work could be displayed on a piece of paper. She nodded encouragingly at him, happy that all the pressure wasn’t on her. Fauna may have been the one to call the meeting, but this was definitely a team effort, and she never would have thought of the ideas Waker and Atticus had.

Most of her listened attentively, but the artistic part of her admired the confident way Atticus designed the plans. He drew the three-dimensional space quickly and she could understand where the artwork and statues would go. Fauna wished she could think of buildings and spaces accurately the first time she drew. The proportions often looked skewed to her, so she just ended up avoiding internal structures and focusing on objects and details.

Her head popped up when he suggested the disappearing and reappearing names on the floor. “That’s… I love that.” Fauna glanced at Waker, who had paused in her note-taking and seemed impressed.

She jumped up from her seat and looked at the plans more closely. “Maybe… we could make the names a pathway… through the space. Have it.. a few letters at the beginning, here, and then the names become clearer the more- or the farther you go in.”

It could start out subtle. People may not even be aware of what they were walking over at first. She imagined it like a trail of breadcrumbs, except instead of leading to a gingerbread house, the breadcrumbs themselves were the most important.

Fauna smiled at him. “I like that it’s on the floor. Art doesn’t always have to be on walls.” She paused. “We could even… charm some of the drawings to hang in midair if we wanted.”

Shrugging, Fauna sat on a nearby desk and thought for a moment. “About the space,” she looked at Waker. “There’s a community art show in Hogsmeade the Saturday of Remembering Week. If we can get permission, we can do a student booth there. And… well… there’s nothing stopping us from displaying our work one day in the castle. Except for professor permission,” she flushed slightly. Fauna would have to talk to someone, probably the Headmaster. She liked Greyfriar and most of the professors, actually, but the idea of seeking them out and telling them about their art show made her nervous already.

The door opened and in walked Adelia, looking embarrassed. Fauna let out a sigh of relief. She’d worried that her friend hadn’t really been interested after all, but she should have known that Addie just forgot. Fauna smiled at her.

“It’s okay! I’m glad you’re here,” she added. “Well, we’re trying to figure out space. Where to display the work. But since there’s not a ton of people in our group, Waker had the idea of adding in some of the old artwork in the castle. Atticus has been sketching out the plans and thought of including the names of, um, people we lost.”

She didn’t comment on her idea to make the pictures move because her mind was stuck on the names. Her feet swung as she thought. The idea wasn’t traditional, because it showed words and text instead of images, but the way in which it was displayed made it art. She thought it was very creative. She looked at Atticus again, knowing that he felt annoyed that there were so few people here at the meeting.

“Um…” she hesitated. “We… we want to have more people in the show, right? Well, what if we do, uh,” she glanced down and her feet swung faster. “A type of chain letter?”

Fauna looked at them nervously, imagining they thought the worst. “A lot of people don’t think they’re artistic. But… everyone can do something. We could start something simple, a basic drawing on a regular piece of parchment, and pass it on. To friends, housemates, peers, anyone. They could add to the artwork, like… put in words, newspaper clippings, doodles…. photos… anything that relates to the battle and their feelings. And then they pass it on and it just keeps going.”

They could start multiple ‘chain’ letters and circulate them around the school. When the letters were filled, they could string them together like a collage and display them in the show. Fauna figured some students might want to remain anonymous, so she wasn’t certain how to give everyone recognition. It was an idea though. Fauna glanced between the other students and fought the urge to bite her fingernails.

The ink names disappearing and reappearing was already a hit. All he needed was to make a plan for how to have that function properly. If he could find a charm that would allow the lettering to grow and fade he would be in business. His attention was on the details far too much to realize someone was outside smacking around one of the castles many suits of armor.

Waker was rather quiet on his ideas but that didn't phase him one way or another. If he was going to work with her he would have to deal with whatever personalties would be in the group. So if she was quiet or even if she thought his ideas were foolish he knew he would just have to bite his tongue. He hardly knew that she actually might like his work, perhaps it was his years in the very house she deemed ruthless to herself that caused him to be so cynical. When she suggested talking to a professor he shook his head, "No thanks there, I'm an idea man don't see myself going up to a professor and pestering to them."

When the girl who was crashing about outside came inside, Atticus looked up for a second to appraise the person. Not really knowing her one way or another he went back to the drawing he was making for Fauna's perspectives. The quill scratched away as he moved things about.

Hearing Fauna say she loved the idea of the names appearing and disappearing made him grin with self satisfaction. So maybe he wasn't above hearing that his ideas were being taken as solid contributions. It wasn't every day that Atticus actually got involved with a school event. In fact it was a very rare day that he gave two knuts about what the school was putting together. This was the first time he had any genuine interest in the prospect of showing the school who he was.

Secretly Atticus found him a little stunned when Fauna suggested it being a path. Something that traveled with the person as they walked. "Subtle but it would make a great impact," he blinked unsure of how he felt with his idea being changed but she had a good point. 'Damn it!' Atticus bristled a little internally. It wasn't all about him and his visions so he would have to drop his attitude and he knew it. She had improved his brilliant idea and really made it a group effort. "No you are right, that will be an interesting twist on it. They might not notice it if we only place the names at the entrance. It would be almost like stage art."

There were times when he was traveling with his brothers he had come across street art in London. They were bizarre but some what interesting the way they would act out images or just stay in one place as if they were a sculpture themselves. If anyone showed up that was interested in that they would need a large venue. "Would it be too much to ask for some of the Great Hall or would that be completely occupied?" The more he considered expanding the venue he knew they would need a large open space.

Fauna mentioned the chain letter and his eyes lit up, "Now that is creative. I do like the sound of that, I absolutely do." There was no hiding it, Atticus was forming a new found respect for this young lady. How curious to think he never noticed the Hufflepuff before this.

Waker jotted away: Charmed pathway with names of those lost in Battle... She paused every now and then to let their words sink in. It was rather like listening to a lecture delivered by younger and more open professors. She added Fauna's input, about the path becoming clearer. She would revise her notes to include whatever they eventually decided, but this was a great start. With each idea spoken aloud, she became a little more confident about Remembering Day. Even if Fauna and Atticus were the only people in the school who managed to produce an interesting exhibit for the holiday visitors, it was one place Waker knew she would be able to usher people.

“There’s a community art show in Hogsmeade the Saturday of Remembering Week. If we can get permission, we can do a student booth there. And… well… there’s nothing stopping us from displaying our work one day in the castle. Except for professor permission."

Noting Fauna's visible nervousness, Waker was quick to respond. "I think having the booth near the art show would be a great idea. It's bound to be more crowded there. If you do want to do the show in the castle as well, there are lots of professors who we could ask. I don't think they would mind at all, particularly if you go out of your way to follow the rules and boost participation." She shot a look in Atticus' direction, feeling none-too-pleased about unintentionally being pegged as someone who 'pestered' professors. What were professors there for, if not guidance and rule-checking? To serve them tea and then beat them with rulers?

The Ravenclaw stayed silent as a fourth person joined them. Ordinarily, she might have eyed the tardy newcomer with discreet suspicion-- particularly given the commotion of the Hufflepuff's entrance-- but as she was not in a formal lesson, nor was she in charge, so her face remained decidedly mellow, if also more deeply unreadable. She nodded briefly in greeting. Adelia Delacroix seemed to be one of Fauna's closest friends, and even if she had just made a rather smashing debut, it was not Waker's place to say anything about it. It had clearly been a harmless accident.

"If it's about Remembering Day, I can help definitely. I mean, I've done murals before, that's not too hard. Just a great deal of paint and such."

Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, Waker focused on the quill in hand and added murals to the growing list of things she'd been writing. She was fairly sure she needn't add anything about paint supplies, as the individual artists would probably take care of their own. She wondered whether she mightn't need to pick up a few art critic books in the library, though, so that she didn't sound like a twat if anyone happened to ask her about the art at hand. Hopefully their questions would all be directed toward the other people in this room. Waker was certainly out of her element.

 “A lot of people don’t think they’re artistic. But… everyone can do something. We could start something simple, a basic drawing on a regular piece of parchment, and pass it on."

Where only a moment ago, Waker had been silently cursing her own shortcomings in this field, she now felt a jolt of wonder. Fauna had just addressed the very problem that the Ravenclaw suffered when it came art. If there were some way of incorporating even the drawing-impaired into this Remembering Day project, the Hufflepuff had surely just described it. "Coming from someone whose penciled unicorns look like tic-tac-toe boards, I think it's an excellent idea. And I'd feel more comfortable contributing if I could write something or add a photo, or attempt a sketch but not necessarily sign my name. It gives people a lot of freedom."

In the awkward silence that followed her suggestion to make the words a pathway, Fauna worried that Atticus didn’t like the change. She couldn’t read his expression, though he might have just been taking a moment to think. Fauna tried to shrug it off. If he did have a problem with it, she hoped he’d say something.

Clearly, Atticus didn’t seem too keen on the idea of asking professors for permission, so Fauna gave Waker a pleading look, and sure enough, she came through. Fauna nodded slowly. She wanted to do both, an art show in Hogsmeade and an art show in the castle, but she wasn’t sure how much was too much and if they could plan it all in time.

"Would it be too much to ask for some of the Great Hall or would that be completely occupied?"

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “I don’t know what the schedule will be like, yet, but we can… ask.” Maybe Waker would come with her. She was always so good at articulating ideas, especially to authority figures.

Fauna waited nervously for the group’s reactions to her letter idea, and she was happily surprised to see it met with enthusiasm. She grinned, feeling quite good about herself. Her cheeks flushed but she didn’t care at the moment. She wished she could feel like this all the time, like her ideas mattered and people cared about what she had to say. Though, it helped that she was so interested in art and had some skill in it.

She hopped off the desk again and hovered by Waker, reading the careful notes over her shoulder. They were written so neatly, with just the right amount of detail. Her eyes focused on one word: murals. She looked up. Fauna noticed that Adelia was drawing quietly and stared at her for a moment.

“Addie?” She bit her bottom lip. “Do you think… instead of setting up a booth in the castle, we could… start a mural? I mean, we’d still have the booth in Hogsmeade,” she reassured them quickly, with a glance at Atticus. “But, well, I think it would be fun. It would be something, another thing, that we could involve other students with, and- and visitors!”

Fauna walked over to Adelia, looking at her drawing but not processing it quite yet. “We could start it, um, on the first day. Like May first. Waker could let people know during tours that they could chip in…” she mumbled, thinking out loud. “And well, we could do a bit everyday, during that week. Everyone could help paint, who wanted to. And we could tell them about the art booth in Hogsmeade,” she smiled. That was an added bonus.

Her eyes took in Adelia’s ‘superhero’ drawing more closely. “Who is that?” she asked her.

The eternal daydreamer had not only lost focus among her fellow peers but that with the drawing, music was playing within her head. She was quite oblivious that Fauna was heading her way until she was there. Inquiries about a mural perked her attention and luckily, that got Adelia's attention once more. "A week long mural? I like, no...love that idea! It really could people's interest and we could always, you know, give it up for the school to keep or something like that!" she chirped up, the grin on her face genuinely amazed by the thought.

Maybe, she began to think, Dad could come and do something on it too! Maybe that's what was in that note! The grin remained plastered, that is, until Fauna went to mention who was in the sketch Adelia was doing. A lump arose in her throat and she knew what would occur. She had to lie, again.

"Uh, who is this? It's a relative of mine. I always imagined what they'd be like if they had been in the Battle here at Hogwarts. They weren't able to fight, so I'm attempting to put them in the scenario. No, it's not going into the exhibit for Remembering Day either. I couldn't do that - it's not fair to those who did fight," she stated in a tone meant for the two girls to hear solely.

Oh, how she wished she could tell Fauna the truth, but the promise was meant to be kept and the last thing she wanted was Malcolm to be disappointed in her. Sure, it was bad when her mother was, oh sure, but when Malc was disappointed in her, Addie felt ten times worse. "So, a mural it is?" she soon chirped up.