PROCLAMATION EDUCATIONAL DECREE 01 This page is an expansionarchive. Please do not edit the contents of this page. Direct any additional comments to the current talk page or contact an administrator for aid if no talk page exists.
*There are a seemingly endless range of wizard photos of the fallen - Ailred Birch and Kyra Flare in particular involved in numerous different activities and groups.*
On the steps
Sarah NormanDurmstrang/Salem/Hogwarts -"How do you find the facts when memory becomes a dream?" – 18:00, February 9, 2013 (UTC)
*Sarah fidgets nervously as she watches the room fill up.*
Sarah NormanDurmstrang/Salem/Hogwarts -"How do you find the facts when memory becomes a dream?" – 20:10, February 9, 2013 (UTC)
*She gives a signal, and a ghostly choir literally materialises, including a couple of familiar Hogwarts faces. They begin to sing.*
Sarah NormanDurmstrang/Salem/Hogwarts -"How do you find the facts when memory becomes a dream?" – 22:06, February 9, 2013 (UTC)
*As the echoes drift off in search of their creators, Sarah pulls herself, with obvious reluctance, to her feet. Her eyes are welling even as she approaches the podium. She lifts her wand, and casts an NV 'Sonorus!' amplifying the natural oddities of her voice.* Ailred Birch is, literally, the reason I am standing here. A chance encounter, eighteen months ago, without which I would never have known the joys of teaching. I'm addressing you like this, in my strange speech, because, well, because Ailred was one of the very few not bothered by its strangeness. Not entirely from compassion, of course, but I like to think largely. Ailred Birch was my teacher, as much as my students'."
Sarah NormanDurmstrang/Salem/Hogwarts -"How do you find the facts when memory becomes a dream?" – 22:45, February 9, 2013 (UTC)
*She casts a variant of the Sonorus on her pendant, and moves forward, to make eye contact with several different people she knows, her voice, now 'unruffled', resounding through the ancient building. She signs with small, hesitant gestures, the words coming only with difficulty.* "Ailred Birch was far better known to many of you, not just as his colleagues *She speaks directly to Professor Kinsel* but as his friends *this is addressed to Bran Thompson, who's trying to compress his massive frame into the fifth row*, than I, but I know, now, something many of you, I imagine, do not. In just the last few months the Professor had undertaken to commit a lifetime of knowledge, finally, to parchment, and the beginnings of his book are, apparently, to fall into my custody. So, I would ask each of you, in memory of your friend, to commit to the Pensieve at the back of the chapel one wisp of memory, so that when I attempt to finish his opus, I can do him true justice. Ailred is now with Cora, we trust, but his legacy is in our hands."
*As Sarah retakes her seat, a single sheet of parchment wafts down from the vaulted ceiling, turning some five feet off the ground, to face the congregation, in the manner of a Howler. The voice, however, is mellifluous and deep, though recognisably that of Ailred Birch - in his prime.*
StevenSlytherin Graduate, Father of Sam and Kathy, Husband of Emily -Writer – 22:33, February 9, 2013 (UTC)
He passes her a tissue, and sits down
Linch– Advisor to the Minister TALK– 22:36, February 9, 2013 (UTC)
Sits and watches.
Nicholas Patrick- Auror Office/Intelligence Division - Order Member -"Youth can not know how age thinks and feels. But old men are guilty if they forget what it was to be young." – 22:39, February 9, 2013 (UTC)
*Nicholas arrived here with his friend Charles and Charles' son Joshua. They sat in the second Row. Nicholas wore black and gold robes, Charles wore his newer robes of deep yellow and purple, Joshua wearing blue and black robes. Nicholas planned on paying great respects to these warriors*
*Joshua followed Charles and Nicholas, his robes dragging along the ground. Joshua felt sorrow for the warrior's*
BranGryffindor -"You've heard of bouncers? I'm the Splatter." – 23:18, February 9, 2013 (UTC)
*The big man is very uncomfortable, as squashed down as he can be in the pew, but wouldn't miss this for the world. The old man had had so many tales, and so much enjoyment of life, he deserves a decent number here to send him off.*
From her place amidst the congregation Merwyn was indistinguishable, in a way that was entirely her own she mourned for Ailred. Finding a sense of comfort in the beautiful words that spoke of the life he had lived in the time he spent upon this earth.