It had been a few weeks into school, but already things were becoming monotonous. The day began with a sunrise rather you were up at night, you went to class more then you wanted too, did your homework, went to practice if you had it, ate at some point when you had the time, maybe got to hang out for a few minutes with your friends, and then sleep would inevitably bestow itself on you like a heavy cloak. You didn’t want to get up, but didn’t want to flunk out of a school that was supposedly teaching you things that was in your blood, DNA, or just your soul. Something that you no doubtingly believed in rather or not you could perform it functionally or not without taking off a chunk of someone’s ear. It became a routine, especially when your sixth or seventh year finally took its sweet time rolling around. Already you felt like you would never escape, even if at the end you thought it went too fast.

Tradition came in many ways and many forms. This tradition had been collaborated by both students and professors; the students needed something fun to look forward too and to lighten their workload while the professors saw that the mild form of a break brightened up their students. It was a win-win and couldn’t be denied. It had only become a recent tradition of five years ago. Some were around long enough where they’ve taken part of this fun each and every year while some were around to help invent this idea that so many look forward too those first weeks back. There were a couple years where it got beyond insanity and each year people try to outdo those past.

The Bonfire.

It didn’t need a better name. Its simplicity was what made it sound like perfection when it was rolling off the tongues of all of the other students. When there was nothing better to gossip about, you could hear ‘did you hear what so-and-so was going to bring to The Bonfire?’ or ‘the girls can get so drunk! The Bonfire’s the night of my life’. It was the party that everybody wanted to go to simply for the fact that most of the professor’s would leave to go get a drink together down in Hogsmeade. A ‘staff meeting’ was what it was called. Of course, the students didn’t go completely crazy because the ghosts roamed the party, keeping track of who did what when with whom. Then again, a strong breeze could up and take them away. Besides, Peeves always seemed to crash the party. Yet, a couple of years ago, the professors had come back to find the annoying thing spell-o-taped to the tree. It looked like a pack of rabid fan girls had come by and dolled up his face. It was the talk of weeks to come.

The Bonfire is as simple as it sounds: massive piles of dry wood get into a structure that looked similar to a teepee. At five past ten in the night, the stars fully dazzling up above and students from most years swarming themselves on the beach to see the chunks of wood take fire in huge bursts of light, emblazing all at the same time. The first years tend to stay for a few minutes if they show up at all, the second and third years stayed for maybe half an hour, fourth years still didn’t quite understand the hype so were gone by one AM, and the fifth through seventh years, well they took it as a prime opportunity to party hardy until the sun started to come up. Quite a few passed out right there on the beach, intoxicated or not, others crawled off to their dorms, and others crawling off to other people’s dorms. It’s party central since somebody always manages to get something alcoholic, the music is way too loud, the dancing is corny or sometimes erotic, the water’s freezing but people are in it anyway, and there’s so much screaming that voices are usually lost.

The Bonfire.
You know there’s things you want to do.