It Was a Dark and Stormy Night...
The eaglets shivered with cold 'neath the rain, wondering how on earth would they be able to dry themselves from such a monsoon. It was a big one, boy oh boy. Thunder and lightning and the works!
Then Mama Laffengraff landed, her glossy feathers thick and warm. She unfurled her wide wings that spanned miles and miles around, engulfing the ickle eagles, covering them from the torrential downpour. The eaglets dried themselves and grew under her care. And that's how Ravenclaw began.
Or, well, HOL Ravenclaw that is.
Perhaps it went a little bit differently for others, but the stories about Professor Willow Laffengraff haven't changed drastically. She started the House and nurtured it for as long as she could, then passed the responsibility on to trusted colleagues. But that's what mother eagles tend to do to allow more growth, right? Take the wings away and trust that we'd all come out just fine.
And we did. (Unless you count the psychopaths like us Heads of Houses...but this is digression).
We're procrastinators and workaholics both. We dabble in everything from science and math, to graphics, to quidditch, to writing poetry and prose, to animation, to music. Sometimes our heads hurt enough just arguing the hours away over who the Godfather of Ravenclaw is, or what the next fangirling fad is, or why medieval weaponry has been found strewn all over the prefects' offices and why swords are the in-thing for professors (hide them NOW, guys!). Yet even with all the shortened descriptions of what comprises our House, there really is no substitution for the direct experiences each eagle has.
The Ravenclaw Yearbook is probably the best showcase of Ravenclaw talent. How else can we display the cleverness, skill, creativity, and innovation of the eagles that have graced the halls in the past and the present than through the smattering collection of this lovely site? It's only fitting then, that glimpses of our House can be shared to the rest of HOL in such a manner.
So travel with us, through our quaint, blue-bronze pensieve, and fly the skies the way an eagle flies it!
Just try to mind the quidditch players. They're slightly rabid and dangerous. We kid you not.
The eaglets shivered with cold 'neath the rain, wondering how on earth would they be able to dry themselves from such a monsoon. It was a big one, boy oh boy. Thunder and lightning and the works!
Then Mama Laffengraff landed, her glossy feathers thick and warm. She unfurled her wide wings that spanned miles and miles around, engulfing the ickle eagles, covering them from the torrential downpour. The eaglets dried themselves and grew under her care. And that's how Ravenclaw began.
Or, well, HOL Ravenclaw that is.
Perhaps it went a little bit differently for others, but the stories about Professor Willow Laffengraff haven't changed drastically. She started the House and nurtured it for as long as she could, then passed the responsibility on to trusted colleagues. But that's what mother eagles tend to do to allow more growth, right? Take the wings away and trust that we'd all come out just fine.
And we did. (Unless you count the psychopaths like us Heads of Houses...but this is digression).
We're procrastinators and workaholics both. We dabble in everything from science and math, to graphics, to quidditch, to writing poetry and prose, to animation, to music. Sometimes our heads hurt enough just arguing the hours away over who the Godfather of Ravenclaw is, or what the next fangirling fad is, or why medieval weaponry has been found strewn all over the prefects' offices and why swords are the in-thing for professors (hide them NOW, guys!). Yet even with all the shortened descriptions of what comprises our House, there really is no substitution for the direct experiences each eagle has.
The Ravenclaw Yearbook is probably the best showcase of Ravenclaw talent. How else can we display the cleverness, skill, creativity, and innovation of the eagles that have graced the halls in the past and the present than through the smattering collection of this lovely site? It's only fitting then, that glimpses of our House can be shared to the rest of HOL in such a manner.
So travel with us, through our quaint, blue-bronze pensieve, and fly the skies the way an eagle flies it!
Just try to mind the quidditch players. They're slightly rabid and dangerous. We kid you not.
Quite sincerely from your esteemed Head of House and Deputy Head of House,
Prof. Rhiannon Llewellyn
Prof. Cassandra Lobiesk
Prof. Rhiannon Llewellyn
Prof. Cassandra Lobiesk