The Quaking Cleanse Detention Reopened

Erin would be the second, behind only Thomas, to arrive. She arrived a few minutes early for reasons that were her own. They were being directed to a death witch's den of sorts, the Caretaker's Office which was every bit as odd as the caretaker themself from Erin's perspective. She did not like Mr. Paine, even his name was a red flag for the girl. Like having a lawyer named Faust or a customer named Karen. He was like one of those Saturday morning cartoon villain with the obvious name and the weird appearance, they had a charming smile and acted nice enough that the main character's fail to realize what observers knew from the very first episode.

Hogwarts is basically Paris on fashion week. For those that care, Erin was not wearing her wizarding robes. Rather, she was wearing a black, sleeveless turtleneck tank. [Link] That and a pair of olive green cargo pants. [Link] tucked into a pair of black heeled combat boots [Link]. Why heels? The honest truth was she was not growing as fast as the males in her year, they were springing past her and she could not be having that. Yes, it was petty. Erin was a petty little girl.

She would look, for the abominable Caretaker. Not hind nor hair of him. She would step once she crossed the threshold. Her eyes scanned for options - an open window, some rags, bucket of ...something, a trio of oblong boxes. Nothing of interest to her, it looked like this would be a generic clean an office task. A dangerous notion, not that consequences were often considered. She was fearless, so this was more an opportunity than a trap for as long as the actual caretaker was not present.



She did not say anything to Thomas, she just gave him a sideways glance and grabbed a rag. Just another Saturday as far as she was concerned.

WC: 326

Whether or not it had been intentional, a student who especially seemed to favor the number 'three' was the third to arrive on the scene. He carried himself with the air of one more familiar with the school and himself than a first year might have been, his lanky frame and casual demeanor suggesting a higher grade probably closer to Erin's own year or perhaps even older.

His looks weren't especially exceptional and his clothing even plainer. Olive-tan skin with dark brown eyes and even darker hair suggested a possibly more exotic heritage than those of paler complexion from the United Kingdom, but that was all. Still...if the Quidditch-playing part-veela (or anyone who had taken particular notice of Kit Paine's features aside from his flashy tattoos and mis-matching eyes) was observant enough, she may have picked up a certain...resemblance to the owner of the office nevertheless. The smile that fell upon her following his gaze, for instance.

"Excuse me," his polite voice spoke up, already stepping partly into the room from the doorway. "Is this where the detention that Prefect Thomas Lestrange is conducting takes place?"

Eyes with irises so dark in color they were nearly black darted to Thomas seated at the main desk in the room. The swarthy student calmly approached him, still wearing a vaguely-amused smirk. "Prefect Lestrange, I presume?"

He regarded the other boy thoroughly. "With all due respect...you don't actually expect to oversee the simultaneous detentions of four offending students all by yourself, do you...?" A skeptical brow rose in an incredulous expression.

@Thomas Lestrange & @Erin Ryan

The last thing Ami needed on her first day back from winter break was a letter summoning her to detention. And to think, she thought that she had gotten off scot-free from that ridiculous Quidditch incident during the fall, but it made sense that all those tense moments in the Headliner office hadn't just been because Ami was always covered in ink. As far as she could remember, Thomas had never directly approached her about what had happened outside the locker rooms, although maybe he had attempted to do so in a manner so tactful that Ami had completely brushed it off. Regardless, the letter was a bit of a surprise, and definitely a major downer. What a way to come back to school!

Part of her really didn't take Thomas seriously. After all, he was just a kid, right? Plus, even if he was a prefect, or whatever, what power did he hold over her? She had seniority in age, seniority in tenure on the Headliner, and obviously, she was much stronger than him... but she also didn't want him going to Browne with this. She couldn't let her position as Co-Captain be stripped away from her over some stupid detention. She had tackled him, and she needed to face the consequences.

And as always, she was running late. It wasn't like she'd planned on being late, but the shoulder strap on her bookbag had snapped during her class right before lunch and she'd spent well over 10 minutes on her hands in knees on the cold, stone floor of the classroom trying to retrieve all of her belongings, meaning that she was late to lunch, where Leo had decided to throw a fit while she was writing a letter during lunch, which meant that she was in a spectacularly bad mood as she made her way back to her dorm to take a shower and change her clothes, so she didn't show up to the detention looking like a total mess. Except, of course, she'd gotten sidetracked with her imaginary concert in the shower, which meant she'd almost left the common room with her jeans on backward, which would've been ridiculous. At least when she was running late, she had a good reason for it.

Sliding into the Caretaker's office, Breakfast Club style, Ami froze as she realized that Erin was also there, which meant Howard would also be coming, and there was another student beside Lestrange whom she didn't recognize. What an odd group. "Hi!" she said brightly, remarkably cheery considering that she was serving a detention. "Hey, uh.... oh, am I not late?" Glancing at the clock on the wall, you could practically see the gears in Ami's brain turning as she struggled to read and process the analog clock. "Dang, right on time!"

Removing her wand from the armband on her left forearm under her hoodie with a flourish, she pointed it at Thomas, grippy-part first. Hilt? Do wands have hilts? "You're taking our wands, right?" Most students she knew, most of her friends included, would probably loathe the idea of relinquishing their wands in any scenario or situation, but she really didn't mind. There wasn't much more that she could accomplish with her wand than without... at least, without accidentally blowing something up. Plus, she really didn't want to make this detention more painful than it already was.

Erin seemed ready to get to work, having already grabbed a rag, but Ami eyed the other student with interest. "Who're you?" she asked bluntly, her eyebrows creased in pure confusion. "You didn't fight Thomas at the pitch... oh my god, Howard, is that you? Holy cow, you got tan! ...and shorter? Wait, you're not Howard..."

Howard’s long legs carried him swiftly through Hogwarts castle as he made his way towards the Caretaker’s office. The day had come for him to pay for his transgressions. His crime: not listening to a punk with a toy badge and a wannabe sense of authority. Oh, and tearing said boy’s chest open with his bare hands. The sentence: probably cleaning a staff members office or some other mundane chore. The justice system at this school was odd to say the least.

As he walked down the halls and corridors, Howard relived that day in his mind. A small part of him knew that he had again lost control of his anger and allowed his rage to push him towards violence. That annoying little bit of humanity that lived deep within his soul scratched at the surface as a slight pang of guilt fluttered through his chest. However, that part of him would be easily squashed as he strolled down memory lane. The other and more dominant part of his human nature was quick to the scene as Howard justified his actions to himself. That foreign boy deserved the beating he got and Thomas was clearly in the wrong as he abused his authority. Eye for an eye was a simple and easy code for someone like Howard to live by. It was also a code that would most likely continue to push him down the dark path of extremism, but for now it served its purpose for an angsty teenager that was tired of being told what to do and how to do it.

The human part of Howard would always be a complicated struggle of right and wrongs, but the memory of that day would also stoke a much simpler nature within him. The very nature that had stripped away his bright blue eyes to replace them with crimson. The nature that washed away the healthy, vibrant skin tone of a young boy only to leave it grey and void of life. The undead part of him that reveled in the violence and bloodshed. It was the undeniable urge of a predator that compelled him to dominate through strength and fear. The sensation of flexing his muscles and the feel of his claws on flesh left him craving more. It was this dangerous nature that left a wicked smile upon Howard’s face as he opened the door to the Caretaker’s office.

However, the smile would quickly fade as he entered the room. His eyes would be quickly drawn to the office chair that sat before the window and to the back of Thomas’ big, stupid dough head. A flash of irritation and anger coursed its way through Howard and was surely evident on his face as he made his way forward. There was something about the way Thomas sat that again carried the air of false superiority and Howard could only imagine the smug look he must carry as he looked out the window. At least Ami and Erin were there to offer some distraction, along with another boy Howard had never met.

“I’m here.” The Dhampir announced his presence to Thomas as he chucked his wand on the desk in a feeble act of defiance. No way was he going to place it neatly in the case. Plus, they both knew Howard didn’t need it to cause damage if he wanted to. “Sup.” He offered a simple greeting to Erin along with a single nod of his head. Like always they had found their way into each other’s lives. The relationship between the two swung to both ends of the spectrum, but there was a consistency there that always seemed to draw them together. “Get your head checked Ami. The kid don’t look nothin’ like me.” Howard wisecracked with his Quidditch co-captain. He offered no greeting to the other kid before turning back to Thomas. Alright boss. What we doin’?” He made sure to lay on the sarcasm and defiance nice and thick.

WC: 666.....hehe

Lestrange’s blue hues found the clock, still an ample amount of time to resume the many preparations that would spice up an otherwise dull afternoon. From the confines of his robe’s inner pockets the boy would retrieve a collection of materials and goodies prior to this afternoon. First, a pair of protective gloves and a small glass bottle containing a green plant with ternate leaves. He would place these items on the desk before him, reaching into his opposite robe pocket to retrieve another container of multicolored bonbons.[Screenshot of items available upon request]

Thomas donned the pair of gloves carefully, grasping the bottle that most certainly contained the irritable plant known as poison ivy. He stood from the desk’s chair and approached the bucket of water at its side. The boy knelt down, removing the plant and rubbing it thoroughly in between his gloves. Then he took the dry side of a rag that hung on the bucket’s exterior, repeating this process until the oils thoroughly coated the rag. To finish, Thomas tore the contents of this plant apart before letting the bits fall into the bucket itself.

Of course the boy’s plan had flaws, underestimating the repercussions to come for coating the professor’s office in a poisonous plant. But on this day, Erin’s misery outweighed the littling logical part of his brain. Thomas shook the gloves off carefully next to the bucket of water, ensuring they did not touch any part of himself. Standing up, he retrieved the container of bonbons.

One with a sweet tooth may be offended, but the exploding bonbons one could find in a shop at Diagon Alley would make for an interesting chew. Thomas opened the container, sprinkling a set of 10 bonbons into the same bucket of cleaning water. The boy was unsure of when the reaction would come when left in water, though if anything would make for a fun surprise...at some point. The boy left the site of gags, returning to sit in the professor’s chair.

Initially his eyes would find his reflection in the window behind the caretaker’s desk. Not resembling the color of his own, wide and black. His mouth would curve into a distorted smile, his mop of brown locks seemed to retreat, as if his hairline receded before his eyes. Though a clack of steps echoed at a distance, urging his attention away from his perturbing reflection. What a fool he was to think for a moment he would escape.

Ryan would enter first, an air of purpose accompanied her heightened stride through the Caretaker’s archway. A detention in heels was very Erin, and left Thomas with a neutral stare. Her eyes did not find his own, left examining the corners of the office. Without hesitation Ryan approached the site of a tampering Thomas. The boy bit his lip to fight off a smirk, pressing his lips together in approval. “Wand first.” The boy nodded towards the collection of wooden cases at the desk’s end.

Thomas hated to interrupt her approach to the water, but a standard had to be set, otherwise the others may not fall in line. As Thomas awaited Erin’s cooperation to place her wand in the case, another boy entered. A tan boy with dark hair that Thomas had not intended to make miserable, as there was no reason for him to. After a pair of questions to ensure he was in the right place, the boy approached Thomas and addressed him directly.

"Prefect Lestrange, I presume? With all due respect...you don't actually expect to oversee the simultaneous detentions of four offending students all by yourself, do you...?"

“Professor Jensen is waiting in the wings, if needed.” Thomas narrowed his eyes at his inquirer. “Hopefully I won’t have to call on her.” He said with a gentle shrug, retrieving a journal and placing it before him. He flipped open to a page utilized as a detention log. After acquiring the caretaker’s quill, he looked back up to the tan boy. “You are? And what did you do that landed you in the caretaker’s bad graces?” Thomas’ tone was neutral, blinking at the boy as he awaited an answer.

Next to arrive was the seemingly sociable Hufflepuff. Thomas looked past the tanned boy, a brow slightly elevated at her enthusiasm. When it came to Ami, Thomas was mostly indifferent. A tackle in the defense of her peers oozed loyalty, and Thomas could not fault her for her actions. Still, the offense landed her in this room nonetheless. Why would Thomas feel the need to include her?

She asked for confirmation on giving up her wand, which Thomas met with a short nod--blue eyes flickering to the wooden cases. Though she flipped the wand’s “handle” to Thomas, reaching across the desk, offering it to him. “The cases are right the--” Thomas just shook his head, grasping her wand in his dominant left. The boy reached forward to place it in case, but stopped himself, slowly bringing the wand back towards his chest.

It was the first time he held the wand of another. His eyes scanned the hearty chestnut wood, catching himself before examining it any further, placing it in one of the three cases that would seal itself on impact with a swift whoosh sound. Miss Procoppio would go on to comment on their third party, somehow drawing a connection to Howard in the process. Thomas formed a dumbfounded expression, hoping the boy would end her deductive process.

Last but not least, Howard White approached with minimal enthusiasm. As expected, the boy carried an air of defiance as he announced himself. Made evident when Howard would fling his wand in the direction of Thomas, leaving the boy to lunge forward and catch the Dhampir’s wand, eyes glaring up at Howard as he very passive aggressively placed it into the second wooden case that locked on its own.

Reducio

Thomas tries to catch Howard’s wand with style
DC: 15
Acc Roll: 15

[After not-Kit but also Kit introduces himself and addresses the others Thomas would begin instructing the attendees.]

Thomas stood from his chair, looking first to Erin. “Erin, start by cleaning all the glass surfaces. Hoping you can manage that without...irritation.” Thomas would not need to force a smile as he spoke to her, looking next to Ami. “You’re good with words.” The boy pointed to a bookcase with student files and detention records. A stack of papers she would soon be adding her own name to. “Go through the files and organize them alphabetically. If there are loose papers in the stack, ensure they go into the right file.”

As he spoke to Ami, Thomas removed the key that was given to him by the caretaker himself, Kit Paine. He threw it in Howard’s direction[feel free to catch with style ;]. “And Howard, about time you returned the favor. To feed something, instead of on something. Mr.Paine asked that we feed his pets. You’ll find one of them at the locked drawer across the room.” Thomas pointed at the corner that was fairly distanced from where the other students would be going to work.

Thomas would take his seat again if there were no further questions. The tanned boy’s work would depend on his offense, provided to him if he chose to tell Thomas this information. Otherwise, Thomas would only pass the popcorn his way, and encourage him to enjoy the fun.

Wand first

Erin had no wand to give. Not that she would hand her wand over to Thomas if he was the only authority on earth. "No," she replied with a monotone expression. She would only see that sardonic expression he donned out of the corner of her eye. He was not worth a reaction from her. "Wouldn't need it to perform muggle labor. Wouldn't need it to defend myself. You're the one that drew a wand," she reminded him. Neither Howard or Erin needed a small length of wood to kick Thomas' ass. "Take every handicap you can get i suppose," she prodded with a tiny thorn. There was no reason to lie but she did not expect to be trusted, nor did she want to be trusted.

With the ingress of the others, some exotic boy that Erin had never met; Ami Procoppio, a friend of Howard's; Howard White, her... well, that sentiment might be one-sided. He was someone she valued, even if she was incapable of affection she was capable of loyalty. The same loyalty she had shown for Thomas when he disappeared and she fought to find him. The same loyalty she had learned some time ago was terribly misplaced. She would look for Howard too if he went away. She would rip apart those that took him, those that hurt him because he was hers.

"If you do not believe me, search me," she offered. Not that she expected him to. Usually there is dinner and a whatever the wizard equivalent of a movie would be as a prelude. "Or Procoppio might be willing," instil a bit of awkwardness, Erin was not easy to embarass. There also was no wand if anyone was frisky enough to verify.

She would take the tainted rag in her hand. She was not one to dally, it was her intention to complete her task and move on with her day. She would listen in on the conversation between Thomas and the stranger. Someone about her age that had an unusual physical appearance who was an unknown. There was no way that she would know that it was the caretaker in disguise, a metamorphmagus that got his jollies masquerading as a teenager. She would however know that there was no student by any name he would utter. There were maybe two dozen in her year... left. The others had disappeared, moved on to 'other schools' or were mysteriously forgotten. One was somehow a second year after a lengthy absence and Thomas was a year behind after a protracted absence of his own. She was not certain how many of her peers she had already forgotten. How many were never searched for because nobody valued them. Nobody missed them.

"Doesn't matter, whatever the deathwitch says is a lie," and she would see him on the ground after a few story 'accidental fall' if he so much as laid a finger on herself or Howard. If the opportunity presented itself, she would murder the death witch anyways. Yes, she was pondering murder. It was an act of self-preservation at this point. Afterall, there was no reason to pretend to be someone that never existed that was not sinister in nature. Nobody believed the mad ravings of a crazy person, she expected today to be no different so she would offer nothing else on the matter.

Thomas would give Erin her instructions. She expected the rags to be for her, one of the more manual tasks unless he sought to redecorate the office and required some heavy lifting. Clean the glass surfaces. "Sure," she announced as she dipped the rag into the water. Agitating the pebbles or whatever it was (bon bons) that were housed on the bottom. Presuming that the bon bons did not burst right away, Erin would thrust her right arm elbow deep in the tainted water and then with both hands wring the rag until it was merely moist.

Of average, actually slightly taller than average for a girl, she would not be able to reach the high the higher panes. So she would start at the bottom and then work her way to the top. She was rather practiced at this sort of labor. He would continue on with his tasks. Ami would organize the books. Howard would feed a pet that the caretaker kept locked in a drawer, a notion that sounded cruel at the most basic of notions. Not that Erin would intervene on behalf of the creature, she was a shitty hero.

She would dip her rag again into the water and wring it dry. She was accustomed to the repetitious behavior of cleaning. It did not matter much to her, in fact little did the Professors or Thomas for that matter realized she wanted these detentions for reasons she would one day answer if someone was ever observant enough to ask. For now, it was cleaning a window. A window in which she could see her own reflection. It was wrong, it was always wrong. A twisted manifestation of herself. The sclera was black, the lips too thin, she smiled too much. Seemed almost giddy when Erin noticed her. She occasionally wondered who or what she was, a part of her had believed that she might have just gone mad. People acted as if she had and with how hard it was to maintain a grip on reality when people looked the same, when she was allowed to believe a lie, when she was led on. Of course she was insane and the fall from this height... She felt a tightness in her throat. Not yet, not today.

She climbed onto a chair she had dragged in front of the window to reach heights she could not on the tips of her toes. The reflection was a mimic, the very same chair but a loping gait. Arms and fingers a bit too long for her frame, she wondered if she was just as pale as she washed the pane before her, obscuring her silent tormentor for but a moment. She would make the trip to the floor, to her bucket and endeavor on unaware of the taint and then climb the chair again, balancing this time on the backrest. Not what these shoes were made for, but they did give her the slightest advantage of height. She would remove them. Moist hands that would pull off the leather shoe and peel off the socks that she would stuff inside. This time she was not as unsteady, she would hold her balance. Complete the task, the first surface.

She would look over at Howard White and Ami before finally resting on the death witch that Thomas was likely in league with. She half paid attention to the chair that wobbled beneath her, perhaps that was why she would fall. Fall onto the ground with a clamorous BANG, knocking over at least in part the bucket that would slosh over its edges and leave a large puddle on the floor that Erin was now sitting on. The only thing bruised was her ass, her ego was just fine. Well, that and her arm. It ached, daresay it even tingled a bit. She would hold her right in her left and bend the wrist back and forth, no stranger to broken bones she would recognize a sprain when she felt it. A bit of swelling, some minor discomfort. She would stand up and brush her legs with her hands, her cargo pants partially soaked from her fall.

"Professor Jensen is waiting in the wings, if needed," the prefect responded. "Hopefully I won’t have to call on her."

"Hopefully you won't," the dark young man agreed, chuckling softly. He spread his arms in a parody of a helpless shrug, unable resist giving Thomas a cheeky grin. Then, leaning forward and lower towards the seated student, he spoke softer as if in the utmost confidence. "Who knows what could happen in however long it might take her to get here. Assuming she answers your summons at all."

Having said that, he backed off and moved away, still grinning. It didn't change when the newcomers came in after, but nor did he seem to bother answering the later questions posed to him if he'd even heard them being asked.

The fellow grinned through the girl's - Ami Procoppio's - spoken assumption and continued on through Howard White's arrival and subsequent correction of his peer. He watched wands being passed about the room, but did and said nothing to impose, intervene, or interrupt. By the way he behaved and his stillness, he might as well have been a piece of human-shaped furniture. His fixed expression, as unchanging as any muggle poster's or portrait's, made him seem like some breathing statue of flesh and blood.

It wasn't until Thomas finally started doling out instructions and delegating duties that the guy once more demonstrated proper signs of life. Dark eyes followed while the prefect assigned each student with a task - each student except himself, that was. Not that he was about to complain. Like so many kids who enjoyed causing trouble, he seemed to look forward to the opportunity to...test his boundaries. As of yet, he seemed to have been given quite a bit of leeway, but that was probably because Thomas had no personal quarrel with him that he knew just then. The second year Slytherin seemed far too occupied carrying out his own personal vendettas on the ones who had already earned it in his eyes.

Curious about these individuals and apparently free to do as he wished until further notice, the young man silently drifted over to join Erin by the window. At her acknowledgement of him, calling him 'deathwitch' (which was more than Howard seemed to have done), he laughed quietly, but did not deny the accusations she spoke aloud as fact.

As Erin set to work with her rag and water, he regarded her with the fond look of a secret admirer who had been observing someone for some time in order to have developed the feelings they had for them. After a few moments, he removed his cloak to set off to one side, rolled up the sleeves of the white dress shirt he wore, and grabbed another rag to dip into the bucket of treated water.

With a bit of a height advantage without the heels, he moved to help the girl with the higher parts of the window. He lingered close in order to catch her if she fell, warily watching those percarious heels perched atop the chair that did not seem to be specifically for reaching elevated places with. Because of his caution, he might have already been ready to catch Erin when she wobbled and eventually fell, but it was not to be. Something else distracted him instead at the last minute - a reflection just off enough for someone who'd read enough stories on magic reflections to recognize a distortion of reality and accept it for what it was when he saw it.

Before he could examine Erin's image in the glass closer, she had toppled off the chair. He dropped his rag immediately and swept out an arm to catch her, but by then had been so caught off-guard that he misjudged the projection of her fall and the angle as well as distance optimal to safely intercept. Thus, instead of managing to catch her, they both splashed into the contents of the overturned bucket as it pooled on the floor of the office. All at once, the young man swore sharply under his breath; all former signs of his previous grin and easy-going demeanor evaporated.

He looked down at himself, his clothes partly drenched as his brows narrowed. His attention shifted to Erin and he noticed her testing her wrist. Frowning, his gaze cut to Thomas who still sat behind the desk. What was the prefect going to do about this? Anything? Send her to the nurse?

"Are you alright?" he asked Erin abruptly, not bothering to wait to see what Thomas did before acting himself. He moved to try to examine the wrist if she would let him, not seeming to care or even notice that he was getting into her personal space for all the deference he showed. It didn't matter that she obviously mistrusted him and had just called him both a death witch and a liar. Didn't seem to bother him, either, that they were of different sexes or practically strangers. All that immediately concerned him was the condition of her wrist and her overall well-being after her fall.

@Thomas Lestrange, @Erin Ryan, @Ami Procoppio, & @Howard White

Or Procoppio might be willing.

Ami's eyes widened as she glanced from Erin to Thomas and then back to Erin once more, like a child waiting to be told they could have one more cookie from the jar. "Procoppio would be very willing, actually," she said, stepping towards the part-veela with a wide, puppy-dog smile. Similarly to Erin, it was hard to embarrass Ami, unless you outright scolded her. And frankly, she was a teenager who had an unrequited crush on nearly every mildly attractive girl she came across with very little impulse control. "Hands up, if you don't mind, Miss Ryan."

She'd been to the airport before, she knew what a pat-down looked like. With as straight of a face as humanly possible, Ami imitated the motions she'd seen in the security lines- one arm at a time, down the sides, one leg at a time... 'No wand," she confirmed, standing up and shrugging at the prefect.

Similarly to the brawl on the Quidditch pitch, Ami wasn't quite sure as to exactly why Thomas and Erin seemed to hate each other so vehemently, and likewise with Howard and Thomas. There was clearly some bad blood and some drama between the three of them; like, Grey's Anatomy, Scandal level of drama. But whatever was going down, Ami hadn't ever heard head nor tail of it during her entire time at Hogwarts. Some primal instinct buried deep in her warned her to proceed with caution around everyone else in the room, and the growing knot in her stomach made her very aware of the fact that if somehow, everyone were to end up in some sort of altercation, there would be no one on her side. And she wasn't quite sure if she was okay with that idea.

Speaking of uncertainty, there were many, many things that Ami didn't understand.

For instance, she wasn't very good at math— even the multiplication table stupefied her. Or sometimes Quinn would remark upon something during Quidditch practice and Ami would have no idea what he was saying underneath that ridiculously thick Irish accent. Much of what Hogwarts students were taught in Astronomy went way over her head, and sometimes she wondered why certain people really felt the need to do up button-up shirts all the way to the very top button when they weren't wearing any sort of tie. But quickly rising up the ranks of this list of the not-understood was Thomas Lestrange.

Ami studied him as he studied her wand before he finally seemed to realize that, in fact, it was a perfectly normal (albeit, rarely used) wand, placing it in what she had originally assumed to be a pencil case. Her eyes flicked to his confused expression momentarily as she fired query after query at the stranger, wondering why he was wondering about her wondering about the unknown variable standing in front of them. Legitimately, she wondered if Howard was actually a metamorph and simply didn't tell her, but her de-railing train of thought was quickly righted by the arrival of the actual Howard.

Get your head checked Ami. The kid don’t look nothin’ like me.

Almost like a dog at the promise of a treat, Ami's posture straightened and her head swiveled to allow her stare to follow Howard towards the desk where Lestrange was presiding. "Hey, Howard!" she said cheerfully, smiling at her teammate and fellow fourth year. "I swear I didn't mean anything by it, I just thought... oh, nevermind. Nice catch, Dr. Strange," she added, Thomas' hand-eye coordination skills not going unnoticed.

And then the prefect began to dole out tasks, and Ami groaned inwardly, resisting the temptation to roll her eyes. What was he, her mother? She couldn't believe that he, a child, was ordering them, sophisticated fourth years, about like this, and she had half a mind to petition for prefects to be banned from overseeing detentions altogether. But Erin seemed remarkably unaffected but Lestrange's bossiness, grabbing a rag and the bucket without any fuss.

You’re good with words.

"I am?"

Go through the files and organize them alphabetically.

"Are you sure you want me to do it? Like, can't I trade with Erin... or Howard... I really think they'd do the job better than me, you know. I always get my m's and n's mixed up. Like M&M's? Or Eminem? I dunno..."

She didn't actually get them mixed up all the time, but at this point, she was just stalling so she didn't have to actually think about the alphabet. Regardless, her eyes flickered over to Erin dutifully cleaning the window, and she sighed. If even Erin was doing what Thomas was telling them to do, there was no point in arguing, right? She made her way over to the bookcase, picking up a stack of papers with a frown. How should she even start this...?

Humming the alphabet to herself quietly as she shuffled through the stack of papers, Ami's eyes darted over to the mystery boy and Erin cleaning the window together jealously. She wondered why Thomas hadn't given mystery boy a task to do- was this something she should be bringing up with Browne later? Normally, she wasn't one to tattletale on anyone (in the wise words of John Edmund Mulaney, stop snitchin' melonfarmer), but something about this whole ordeal was seriously off-putting.

Whatever. She'd get this over as quickly as possible, and then maybe she'd go to Jensen and Browne with her concerns. She had always felt seen and heard around them, and maybe they would be able to settle the strange sense of doom settling in her stomach. Or was that the suspicious orange juice she'd had at lunch?

The loud bang from the window startled her out of her stupor. The stack of files she currently held slipped out of her hands in surprise as her head whipped around to look at Erin and Kit in Disguise, and then to Thomas, and finally to Howard. The mystery boy was already at Erin's side, checking to make sure she was alright, the Slytherin already brushing herself wordlessly like it was simply NBD. For once, Ami held her tongue as she bit her lip, crouching down to collect her fallen materials. There was something that was bothering her, something about this whole situation that she couldn't exactly put her finger on.

"Hey, 'Strange, if two people have the same last name but one has an extra letter, which one comes first?" she asked quietly, drifting over to Thomas' makeshift throne by the desk. Despite the fact that he was the one who had doled out this detention in the first place, she was significantly less afraid of him than she was of everyone else in the room. Pausing with two different files in her hands, Ami would shoot a glance over to Howard and... whatever he was doing.

Howard’s eyes locked with Thomas’ as he deftly lunged forward to catch the wand before it fell to the ground. He no longer had any attachment to the magical instrument and was more than willing to sacrifice it in a gesture of defiance. His red eyes would squint in anger to further send the nonverbal message. It was short and sweet: fuck off! Howard couldn’t quite remember when their relationship had soured. Perhaps it was just the dark influence of two warring covens that pit the two against each other. Maybe just the natural instinct of two hormonal teenagers vying for dominance as the testosterone raged through the bodies. Probably both. Regardless of the cause, the two were heading down dark paths that would dead end into each other. The head on collision would surely would surely be carnage.

Howard stood with arms crossed as Thomas began to dish out the tasks for the evening. More manual labor it seemed, it always was. It never made any sense to him. Were Witches and Wizards really so lazy that a bit of cleaning was supposed to be punishment for clawing someone’s chest open? Bunch a lazy bums! Erin would be cleaning windows, Ami was to organize and Howard was to feed a pet...ok. To further his defiance he side stepped and allowed the key Thomas chucked his way to fall to the floor with a clang. His only reaction to Thomas’ smart ass comment would be to part his lips and quickly protrude his fangs. Yeah, that’s right boy. Tasted you once. Keep it up and I’m coming for seconds! The thought flashed through his mind as he turned to pick up the key and get on with his task.

Howard would cross the room and slide the key into the lock of the drawer. Just as he was about to turn it a roaring crash would make him jump back around. The scene was almost comical as he saw Erin and the stranger crumpled on the ground, the contents of the wash bucket spilled across the stone floor. He wasn’t concerned for Erin’s well being, not because he didn’t care, but because he knew it would take a lot more than a tumble to take down Ryan. You’d be better off with a Mack truck and he wasn’t sure that would even be enough to get the job done. Merlin knows he tried before. With a shrug Howard turned back to the drawer. Most might have questioned the situation, but he was more of a do first ask questions later kind of guy. First of all, who keeps a pet in a drawer and what the hell was he supposed to feed it? This Caretaker guy surely didn’t take his title very seriously, but Howard wouldn’t think twice. With a twist of the key he opened the lock.

BANG!

The second of the night erupted through the room as the drawer burst open. The surprise caused Howard to step back defensively, his right hand raised and clawed instinctively. However, as the scene unfolded before him his hand would fall slack at his side. The others would only see his back, but his eyes would widen in horror as a figure crawled its way out of the drawer. The image before them would be anything but threatening, but to Howard his worst fear stood before him. A shorter woman with a kind and loving face looked upon him with warmth in her eyes. The grey streaked hair framed her round face as a sweet smile came to her lips. None other than Dawn White stood in front of him, arms outstretched to call her son into an embrace.

“Mum?” Howard called out to her, his voice shaky and full of emotion. “Yes, my dear.” Her sweet voice answered. He should have known that whatever was before him was surely not his mother, but the image of the women he had not seen in years shook him to the core. Rational thought was no where to be found as his heart yearned to embrace her. To tell her at least one more time how much he cared for and loved her. To bury his face into her shoulder and let her make it be ok. However, as he stepped forward the figure would recoil away from him, a wicked hiss escaping her lips as the smile turned to sneer. The sweet features of her face would distort into disgust as she looked upon him. “You’re not my son!” She growled as she stepped forward and pushed him away. Howard would stumble backwards, his arms raised before him as his backside crashed into the desk. The figure would slowly approach. “You’re disgusting! A monster! You’re no son of mine, MY SON IS DEAD!!!” It screeched in an unnaturally high tone, slapping at his arms with every word.

“NO!!!” Howard bellowed before covering his eyes with his hands and kicking out at the figure before him. As his foot made contact the creature would scurry away. It wasn’t real! It couldn’t be! His mother was safe and sound at home in Manchester. She didn’t know of his turning and Howard would go to extremes to make sure he kept her safe from that knowledge. No, as rational thought returned to him he knew that what had crawled out of that drawer was only an illusion. A creature that transformed itself into the deepest and darkest fears of those that looked upon it. A Boggart! Howard let his hands fall from his face, smearing the blood tinted tears down his cheeks as he did so. With no wand on his person, he would defend himself in the next best way.

Pushing off of the desk he would reach for Ami (sorry, proximity) and attempt to shove her towards the image of his mother before turning back towards the desk. His eyes would search for only one person, Thomas. Regardless of what he might say, Howard would assume that he was responsible for setting the trap. The Prefect had surely seen rage in his eyes before, but this time was different. This time the rage would be mixed with a deep and horrible pain. The blood stained tears would continue to slide down his cheeks as Howard stared deep into Thomas’ gaze. There was no embarrassment at the emotion, only pain and anger. A wicked smile would cross his lips as Howard visibly cracked before the group.

He didn’t care anymore. The image of his mother reminded him of the life he loved and the the harrowing fact that it was gone forever. That regardless of what path he chose to walk he could never go back to what he truly wanted. He had been obsessed with finding the power to forge his own way in life and tonight was the reminder of what it cost. The magic that flowed through his blood had cost him his family and Muggle life. His lust for power had cost him part of his humanity and jeopardized his soul, but all he yearned for in this moment was someone to blame and that someone was Thomas Lestrange. Erin Ryan would not be the only one to consider murder this night.

Howard would not scream in rage or smash things in anger as he was accustomed to. With cold, dead eyes he would look at his target and with all his strength he would lunge towards Thomas, claws first.

Attempts to throw Ami towards the Boggart and attempts to attack Thomas. Please feel free to determine any success/failure or roll if you’d like.