Detention Detail PV Beyond the Treeline

Date : 7 June 2026
Time : 11:45 A.M.

George walked out of the castle, humming softly to himself.

Wait a minute. Why was he humming? He was in detention. Who hums in detention? He should be sobbing his eyes out.

Ah, well. Why was George in detention in the first place? He didn't mean to be sneaking into the Forbidden Forest. He just... did. He had... lost something in there (wink, wink). Anyways, detention was supposed to be fun sometimes, right? (cough, Yeah, right, cough)

"The grounds near the old wardline have become overgrown after the storms this spring. Branches need clearing. Several of the old boundary markers have collapsed. You will assist with cleanup until sunset. You are not here to socialize. You are not here to explore. You are absolutely not to enter the Forbidden Forest under any circumstance. Pairs. Clear debris from the wardline and stack anything usable near the trail markers. Stay where I can see you.", he heard a voice announce.

The voice of Headmaster Solomon Lear.

Hold up. Assist with cleanup? Was he kidding?

Uh oh.

This was going on the worse end of things. George started looking for a partner. He saw some familiar faces down there, though what they could be doing there he had no idea. He suddenly saw a Great Hall spying mission partner... no, a friend among the huge crowd of some 75-odd people. He walked up to her and asked, "Hi, Sabrina! Wanna team up?", he asked her. And then, to his dragonhide gloves, "Scourgify!"

OOC NOTES:

Reducio

Word count : 238
Mentions : @Solomon Lear @Sabrina Lyons
Moderated Action : Uses Scourgify on his dragonhide gloves
D20 Roll : I felt too lazy to log in back to my Discord, so I just used the Google d20 roll Easter Egg and got 14.

Grounds | xx.06.2026 | Outfit | HEX #454545 | @Tatiana Contraire | WC 292 | Roll 5

Coded by Cirrus Nam

time. detention
location. edge of the grounds
mentions. @della barfield | open for interaction

Dahlia had not taken a great importance to finding a partner for the activity. Rather, she had not planned to partake in the activity. There were sufficiently many people engaged in the detention task that one non-participatory straggler would not cause concern. That was why Lear had gathered so many students, was it not? He needed the task done, yes, but he knew subconsciously that a good third of them would be uncooperative. These were students who had previously gotten in trouble he was asking. It was safe to say that a majority of those who received detention also had issues with succumbing to authority.

Dahlia was, personally, proud of her "disciplinary issues." God forbid she be the sort of individual who followed the rules all the time. Such obedience suggested a lack of questioning, which, in turn suggested a lack of productive thought. Dahlia was not stupid. She might not have the intelligence of a Ravenclaw or the refined ambition of a Slytherin but she was capable of critical thought when it served her. She would take the "easy route" every time.

However, obviously, there were complications. Dahlia liked these as well. Things were boring when they happened as they ought to. These complications took the form of one blonde-haired girl interrupting her deeply important, self-judged stump jumping competition (of which the winner was Dahlia, obviously.)

The young witch wobbled on one foot, taking a small hop forward so she could stand balanced on both feet. Did she look like she was working? Della was greeted with a deeply incredulous look for two or three seconds. Then, because she did not mind the idea of talking to someone, Dahlia hopped down from her perch. "Sure." She dusted any possible dirt off her robes, addressing the air between them. "Dahlia. Enchanted. I do not know if I've seen you before. I have, potentially. Or, I have not. I will learn soon enough." She would not, in fact learn soon enough. Still, it had sounded right to say so she had said it. Such was her logic.

"Do you know, perchance, what the task is?" Dahlia feigned ignorance, eyes widening. She knew what the task is. This was a distraction tactic placed in the moment before someone might expect her to actually haul sticks. She would not.

interacting with della | exploring the stump area

⠀ IV. Sweat, tears or the woods.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ To be thrown into dirt and soil, to be dragged with little mercy or grace, to hear things you thought existed only in nightmares, and to be told you are one of them. A fallen angel of God, like Lucifer, the archangel who brought light – perfect and beautiful, pure as foam on a cold glass of milk. But one day, his pride led him astray, and he was changed forever: once a servant of God, now a sinner in the world, forever to be hated – a worm in an apple rotting from inside to surface. To be apathetic and lazy, to be filled with rage and fiery, to be a mixture of both, a storm brewing within – and you will never find peace in your soul…
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ Her eyes saw right through him. They locked onto his desperation and dragged it through the mud, leaving marks behind, making it visible – like a patch on white sheets, like an advertisement in a magazine. Her expression made it obvious – she thought he was just one desperate boy, standing there pathetically, hoping to pair up with someone he didn’t even know. Because, god, how could he be so stupid? She was clearly confident, she clearly had friends, and what would stop her from making a fool of him and going to work with them? Yet, at the end of the day, the only one making a fool of Sebastien was himself. In what godawful world could he have expected her to say yes to him: nothing more than a stranger in her world, nothing more than a meaningless presence, no more significant than a bird passing somewhere above the clouds the students could barely see. Standing there, he felt so stupid, his hands fidgeting, hoping for a Time Turner – though of course, he didn’t have one. Didn’t have it anywhere, just hoped that maybe this was the day his prayers would finally be heard by God, that God would see how devoted he’d been, how he’d been praying just like his grandparents told him to, and in some magical way put a Time Turner in his pocket. But no such miracles ever happened, and though Sebastien was one doomed and unlucky kid, he knew that finding such a miracle would have been unlikely in anyone else’s pockets, too. Still, even knowing it was impossible, all he wished for in that moment was to escape the scrutinizing gaze of her dark brown eyes, hooded in a way that made them appear siren-like.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ Judging by the look she had given him before turning away (for which he thanked God, because he doubted he could stand such a gaze any longer – one almost as intimidating as his grandmother’s), the girl struggled even to send a glance his way. He had no idea how she could leave the option of working together on the table. If he were deaf and hadn’t heard what she said, he would have guessed she wished for him to disappear off the face of the earth, or turn to dust just so she wouldn’t have to bear looking at him, rather than offering an open invitation to do as he pleased, even encouraging a decision: work with her or not.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ Looking down, he saw her gloves had been dropped on the grass where the both stood, the shadows of the Forbidden Forest tangling around the gloves and preventing any chance of keeping dry on the dew-soaked morning lawn. Did she even want to work at all? he caught himself thinking. But of course – who wanted to be here? He had forgotten that not all these students were as miserable as he was, spending weekends in the library as he was, barely going outside as he was. Was there any worse place for him than a school?
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ Still, he found her answer rather amusing. From her tone, and perhaps their first impression of each other, he was immediately put off by everything she said. He noticed a flaw in her response he could prod at, just to get back at her for the attitude she’d greeted him with. Sure, he could have simply walked away, found a different partner, or even worked alone – the place was so crowded he doubted the headmaster would notice him by himself. But after all, if they were going to spend the next ten hours in this field with nothing to do but clean up, he might as well find some entertainment. And she? She was certainly a character, so he made a deal with himself, weighing his options, and decided that in the face of disaster, it was more important not to lose his sanity. What kept him sane was curiosity, along with amusement.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ “Of course I came up to offer to pair up. Did you think I was just asking if you had a partner to make sure?” he said, his tone concealing a slight hint of sarcasm, though he was far too shy for it to have any real bite. He didn’t understand what had come over him, or how he had found the nerve to say that sentence – especially to a student like her, who seemed so concerned about her reputation, and who was in this detention for some supposed reason he did not yet know. What if she had been hexing students she disliked, making them ill, or causing other such inconveniences? He supposed it was not very intelligent of him to get ahead of himself, since he did not yet know what consequences he might face.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ “I wouldn’t mind working with you, if you let me. I do not mind doing most of the work,” he said quietly and hesitantly, as if the words were forced from him, as though he were possessed by the spirit of the gentleman he had been taught to be. Only afterwards did he realise it made him sound even more like a friendless loser, and he regretted his words immediately. But it was not as if he had to clean a specific area of debris, just generally tidy up, so there was no pressure for him to do too much. He did not mind her relaxing, because it still did not seem likely they could have many harmonious conversations together, given how their temperaments clashed.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ …And when the storm reached the high ground and knocked you off your feet, you rolled into the pits of hell, far from where you once fell. You have hit your head, lost your mind, and run with no place to go and no one to tell, in the pits of hell.

Date June xx, 2026 Time (morning) Location Caretaker's Cabin, Hogwarts Grounds Tags interacting with @Andrea Woodsburn

Reducio Any color-coded text (red/blue/green/yellow) is intended to represent the speaking/thinking character's house or former house, other characters or characters with their house unknown to me will be grey. Colored italics are thought; colored "quotations" are spoken. Uncolored italics are usually books or songs etc., while uncolored quotations are usually meant to emphasize the included word or make it sarcastic.

A sigh of relief left Robin's mouth after the girl accepted his invitation and introduced herself as Andrea Woodsburn. He stopped in the middle of his breath, however, after Andrea commented that she'd seen him around. Robin felt a little uneasy, since he didn't remember her at all.

"I'm Robin Lockett." He eyed her outstretched hand for a moment before giving it a single firm shake then letting go. "For me it was an unauthorized duel. Not abusing anybody, just practicing with my friend privately since we couldn't find a moderator. Apparently we weren't exactly alone." After exchanging a few remarks about their crimes, Robin looked around to find somewhere to start. They will be here for nearly a whole day, and the day had just begun. Manual labor wasn't something he preferred to spend his weekends on, but leaving a bad impression on professors and even the Headmaster was something Robin would like to avoid at the best of his abilities. Therefore, he or rather "they" should get started.

Robin looked around to make sure they were still within the Headmaster's eyesight, then pointed his finger at a less crowded section of the debris. It was maybe a couple minutes walk from where they were standing, but not too far to count as "wandering off".

"We should probably start cleaning." The boy put his hand down and took a step towards the pile. Then he stopped, and as if to make his tone seem a bit less pushy, added: "We could probably take our time though, there's surprisingly a lot of people here today, it'll be handled just fine."

Reducio

n/a

And there were 80 students... These were the worst degenerates the academic wizarding world had to offer. Most of them, 43 in fact were barely teenagers. First years, which there were a lot of, but their numbers quickly dwindle and by their third year they would find themselves reduced to a quarter of what they once were.

It happened time and time again, the Ministry was to an extent aware. Shrugging it off as juvenile delinquency: run aways being the usual excuse, like it was still the 1980s. Even if it did not make much sense. They came from a good home. Had every reason to stay. Solomon was no fool, he knew that there was more to it than running away, but anxious belief is a far cry from knowing what was happening or why.

The headmaster knew that there were ways to survive at this school, rules. Don't go out late at night, don't wander in the woods, don't let strangers into the school. Rules that substituted common sense which was severely lacking in many of these children, at least those that disappear. At some point, Solomon thought, they had to learn there were rules, and that rules existed for a reason - even the strange ones. Especially the strange ones. The tedious ones. The ones students mocked for being overly cautious or archaic or boring.



Boring meant these students got to go home alive at the end of the term. The Forbidden Forest was forbidden for a reason. The warning was quite literally in the name, and yet every year students wandered beneath its canopy anyway. Not for necessity. Not for scholarship. Not even for shortcuts between classes. They went because some reckless, self-destructive part of them wished to brush against death and survive it long enough to brag afterward.

Solomon had long since stopped pretending otherwise. There were healers for that sort of thing. Potions for unstable minds. Therapists in St. Mungo’s with soft voices and expensive certifications. Frankly, more than a few of these children desperately required all three. But Solomon was a headmaster, not a miracle worker, and he possessed only negligible medical training besides. If these students had guardians who were not simultaneously deaf, blind, and catastrophically negligent, then perhaps someone would have sought proper treatment for them already. Instead, they arrived at Hogwarts determined to fling themselves into danger like lemmings enchanted by prophecy.

Which left Solomon with simpler methods: if students insisted on breaking rules, then rule-breaking needed to become profoundly unpleasant. Hence, hard labor. Minimal magic. No shortcuts. No dramatic speeches about redemption. Just an exhausting day beneath the oppressive summer heat with dirt beneath their fingernails and sweat soaking through their clothes. The assignment itself was painfully straightforward: clean things up.

The offending students had been marched to a neglected stretch of Hogwarts grounds near the treeline, far enough from the castle that the sounds of laughter and lakeside leisure no longer reached them. Years ago, the area had suffered a particularly ugly fire after a Hufflepuff picnic went catastrophically wrong. Some dark thing, or several dark things, had emerged from the forest and descended upon the gaggle of students sheltering beneath the canopy.

Back then Solomon did not know what they were, only that they were destroyed. These strange, living shadows were sensitive to the light and while most of the students were self aware enough to realize that the lumos charm could draw back the encroaching dark, some students had learned a second spell already, just not the cure: Incendio. A reckless incendiary spell by a student caused the forest to burst into flames, threatening the lives of several injured students but also destroying whatever those dark things were.

That day was the start of so many bad things. Things that even Solomon had not woven together. This was the same day Potter had allegedly killed Dolores Umbridge. He was tried and then incarcerated at Azkaban for her murder. A trio of students had seen everything, as unlikely as it seemed.

Those events were a lifetime ago. The trees had eventually grown back. Thin young trunks that had clawed upward from blackened earth, their bark still stained with old scorch marks. Beneath layers of dead clippings and rotting brush lingered dark ash from the original blaze, disturbed now by shovels and boots and the reluctant labor of sulking adolescents. Even after all these years, the place still smelled faintly burnt when the wind shifted.

@Tina Carilla & @Dido Bleaklane

Tina, a Ravenclaw, had trudged from the castle to the treeline alongside the rest of the punishment detail, shoes likely not intended for yeardwork dragged through damp earth and brittle leaves. Tina made no effort to join the clusters of whispering students forming around the worksite. No nervous small talk. No performative complaints. She simply drifted toward the outskirts of the clearing as though solitude were the most natural thing in the world.

Perhaps she expected someone else to approach her eventually. Or perhaps she genuinely preferred being alone. At Hogwarts, being alone was rarely a safe preference. The wilderness surrounding the castle was not decorative. It breathed. It watched. The Forbidden Forest alone housed enough hostile magical creatures to populate several Ministry incident reports, and even the supposedly safer grounds beyond the main pathways had a tendency to develop teeth when left unattended long enough.

Worse still were the students themselves. Hundreds of adolescents armed with wands and catastrophic decision-making skills roamed the grounds daily with the collective maturity of unsupervised fireworks. Every year someone attempted a blood ritual they found in a library book, adopted something venomous because it looked "lonely," or vanished into the forest chasing rumors they absolutely should have ignored.

In an environment such as Hogwarts, isolation stopped being peaceful and started becoming vulnerable. Still, Tina lingered near the treeline because she had to... this was detention and they, the administration that is, knew where she slept. She would find herself being approached by someone with slightly more sense than she, Dido Bleaklane. A first year Slytherin. Yeah, she was apparently involved in some sort of dark magic ritual, thankfully most first years were terrible dark wizards. Hopefully the toils of labor prevented her from making a habit of reinforcing the house of serpent's stereotype.

Thrusting a pair of gloves and shears into the girl's direction, Dido (ideally the 'real Dido') offered to pair up. Tina was not good about staying in place, having immediately gone off to see if Angel was interesting in joining them, but she accepted all the same. Dido did not give Tina an honest account of what had landed her in detention on this day - it was just a joke. It was a shame that the professors had no sense of humor.

Having an emotional moment when Tina walked away, Dido's had already written a story of her own and had already made those girls out to be villains. It was not like she was likely wrong, stereotypes existed for reasons. Sadly, it would prove to be all mirrors eventually.

Focusing on her glove with an imaginary tear, the girl would cast a spell - "Reparo."

Dido casts Reparo.
Roll: 20 Critical Success!

It seemed like a waste of a perfectly good crit, but there it was, a perfect reparo cast. Her dragonhide gloves looked now almost new.

Separation anxiety and abandonment issues, check. Tina would find her way back to Dido, noting the girls distress - while she might have been inconsiderate, she was not a sociopath. An apology later, they would get to work.

@Avery Gray & @Mikey Forville

Avery, a Gryffindor had stolen potion ingredients. Something that was not just criminal, but it was dangerous. If not for Nibbles, or was it Nibbler. The carnivorous houseplant that Professor @Lesmana Asmaralaya had grown so attached to, despite the perennial risk of digit loss if someone was too friendly or too close to the plant. On the plus side, the dungeons had a precipitous drop in the rodent population likely in part thanks to the former Head of House's plant. But it was more than the plant, it was the ingredients themselves. The Potions Master has a number of dangerous, rare, expensive and addictive potion ingredients that had conventional use and remained a part of the curriculum in spite of the Headmaster's protests.

They were only one ingredient short of Darkest Night, a potion that proved to be highly addictive and dangerous potion that was abused by wizards in the late 1990's and early 2000's before it inexplicably disappeared. It was the sort of potion that only brought out the worst in everyone and every thing. @Halford Booth understood that better than most, he lost his father to the world addictive substances accommodated. With crime came criminals, and moreover violence. He never did get a chance to clear his father's name or bring his father's killer's to justice. Rather, his bloodline was marred with the legacy of weak integrity.

The girl needed to stay out of the potions store room. To never try again.

The rot beneath the ash caught her olfactory sense. This sense of wrongness pervaded her senses, and where those with better sense might had risked the scolding and ran away, the fearless^TM girl approached Mikey Forville, her boyfriend.

Perhaps things would have went better for them if they had broke in together, but their staggered entry and lack of decoy made them easy to identify and catch. Mike had also broken into the same potions storeroom, just a few hours later. He did not get too far, the items were quickly identified as missing and the nearby teen with a suspicious supply and a terrible poker face was swiftly convicted to a day of hard labor.

Unique Information: But there was something noticed in there that neither of them had a chance to share. It was the loose drawings that were scattered on the shelves. Lesmana appeared to have an unexpected werewolf fixation..

Reducio

Please note: this image was derived by generative AI.

Mikey Forville - 25% chance to identify something observing them (Sixth Sense)
Roll: 54 Failed

@Angel Dayes, @Cecilia Merrick & @Charlotte Winfield

Angel was proving to be considerably more devil than angel. If one were to look at her, one might liken this situation to someone opening a book advertised as a respectable science textbook only to discover, several pages in, that it was in fact an aggressively illustrated graphic novel.

And apparently, according to Angel, the entire catastrophe was Cecilia Merrick's fault. Naturally. But it was Angel who had somehow failed to absorb the fairly basic rule regarding Hogsmeade visits: namely that one needed to be at least in their third year before they would be permitted to go to Hogsmeade. Hogsmeade was not exclusively for adults, but it was reserved for upper-year students possessing enough common sense not to immediately wander into danger, commit petty crimes, or accidentally ingest cursed candy. A standard Angel clearly did not consider particularly important.

Though attention, in general, did not appear to be one of Miss Dayes' strengths. For instance, she seemed entirely unaware that she was no longer in a room.

Unfortunate how the others are walking inside the room with her

They were in fact not indoors. They were not contained safely between four walls. She was standing outside beneath an open sky, looking at ankle-deep dead leaves, discarded brush and soot near the treeline. Wind moved through the recovering forest before her. There was no ceiling overhead. No floorboards. No room. Just dirt, smoke-stained trees, and consequences.

But there was something off about this place - yes there was the small of natural vegetative rot, but there was something else that smelled a bit sour that was carried by the wind. A smell that for her would have been appetizing if it was fresh, but like fridge with questionable produce, the smell would actually cause her stomach to tumble. That was the smell of blood.

She would not have much time to ponder this, the very cause of her detention had approached her: the ever-devious, newly-appointed Prefect Cecilia Merrick. was she there to apologize or to mock, as it was common with teenage girls - it was hard to tell the difference. There were a few other students here that did not seem to fit the deviant mold, unlike Cecilia who seemed concerningly comfortable with the concept: Leo Noxley to whom she called out to and Rosaline who she simply saw but could not bring herself to speak to.

While Cecilia seemed to be taking the detention in stride, unfussed by the potential impact this might have on her reputation, the same could not be said of Angel. She was unhappy with the girl and verbally expressed as much, most others would have probably drawn their wand and had an "accident," but not Angel. She was too delusional offering to start in the grounds... the very grounds they were standing in.

Hopefully nothing goes wrong with this party, because Angel was likely going to be among the first to die. But at least one of her friends had a modicum of sense, Tina Carille who had broken away from her partner Dido to approach the girl, irrespective of Cecilia, her friend... frenemy... bully... it was hard to even tell anymore. "I'm working with Dido. Do you want to come join us?" And ditch Cecilia?

Instead of an agreement or a denial, Angel only mentioned the chill of the wind before returning to Cecilia.

Erast Yan was more vocal than most, identifying Cecilia, an unexpected co-conspirator who was also put in detention. That was certainly unexpected. Perhaps someone was out to get them both.

It was time to get to work and Angel would get things started by drawing her wand. It was a length of aspen wood and unicorn hair, a common combination among Hogwarts students who had acquired their wand at Ollivanders. "Scourgify!" the first year incanted, putting into question what she thought the outdoors were made of.

Angel casts Scourgify.
Roll: 13 Success?

What was she cleaning? The outdoors was made primarily of... dirt.



Charlotte Winfield was well on her way to make a love match with @Archer Duncan. Her family's former affluence was diminishing since her father's, well... in disposal. In fact, Charlotte had found herself in this very detention in part due to Archer. For at this moment Charlotte was hideous, a great, still dark bruise marred her otherwise fine features. Lead balls to the face tended to do this and without bruise paste, the swollen area of dark injury would turn several shades of brown and green before it was finally healed.

Some may wonder why Charlotte did not simply go to the nurse, seek basic healing and then go on with her day. Ask Archer out on another date that he would not be able to attend because he was in detention. Honestly, it was an excellent question. But she decided crime was a more logical, or perhaps expedient solution. But she was no criminal and she was caught.

She probably should have approached Archer, but she thought better of it with the disfiguring mark on her face as well as the fact that Archer seemed to have someone else attending to him. She would have to find another lone student. Rather, she spied one of the most mentioned students in the detention, Cecilia Merrick. Yes, that girl was totally alone if she ignored the fact that Cecilia was paired up Angel Dayes. Don't worry, the narrator is not entirely sure she knows she is there either.

Her restlessness was going to get her into trouble, as Angel started pulling the weeds by hand.

Infestation Roll: 25%, roll 99 No infestation

Well, she approached the girl all the same with the enthusiasm of a chore. "And here I thought you would be taking over practice today. I suppose that won't be happening." Well, considering the weather and the lack of students, perhaps that was for the best. It seemed that Cecilia was the least fussed among them, offering a partnership with the grumpy girl.

While Angel's 'partners' if one could truly call them that, Charlotte and Cecilia, started talking captain-stuff rather than work. Angel was making decent progress clearing the brush, revealing the fine, long grass beneath and tangles of wild vegetative life.

@Zach Zaphiere, @Rosaline Everhart, @Damien Dragonclaw & @Mamori Anezaki

A forger by day, the white collar criminal was about to engage in hard labor. He would rather be in the comfort of Ravenclaw tower - a warm, soft bed, but that was a non-option. He would need to endure the day and hope that this blemish on this record goes ultimately unnoticed. It probably won't.

He needed to find someone to partner up with. While the fourth year did not know anyone, the population of peers having dwindled significantly by this year, he would have to make new friends. He just picked someone at random, Rosaline Everhart. They were in the same school, so there was at least a passing familiarity , which was better than nothing.

The duo would be approached by a third, Damien. Damien was a "victim" of circumstance, he was sold a fake prophecy by Mamori Anezaki. The boy was not even a Seer or a human-adjacent creature that had the power of foresight, but he seemed to know enough, perhaps as a non-human enthusiast to put on a good show. Damien had been told that he would venture out towards the forbidden forest and find something absolutely fascinating out there. Perhaps Mamori had a little something, because he was not wholly wrong. He did see something that night, even if he did not realize it.

Unique Information: Damien saw a man in a brimmed hat and a long dark jacket walking along the treeline. He was too far away to see who he was or even obtain any distinguishing features, but he would know that the man appeared "too mature" to be a student and that the man did not look like any staff member he had ever seen.

It is said, speak of the devil and they will come and that was the case for Mamori. And the devil was on a streak - he was right, this all existed for the Headmaster's personal entertainment. Was there a quota, no, not really. It was just that a point needed to be made and unfortunately the usual detentions had proven to be not only ineffective, but in some cases, as odd as it might seem, an incentive to some of the stranger children. Solomon had decided that he would demonstrate what a detention should look like - something utterly unpleasant.

He would have the audacity to approach one of his victims and ask "What does a model student have to do to end up here," the answer was listen to him. "Want to group up?" With who, Zach, his victim, the girl that was standing with them. It did not matter, he addressed none of them by name, in fact the basically made his rounds asking all three. "What about you two? What are you in for? For what it's worth, I'm here on false charges." An audacious claim, at least for Damien to hear.

Erast would address Rosaline as well, it was simply unbelievable that the seemingly well-behaved girl would find herself in detention, but there were facets that were unknown to even the closest of confidants. Why was she even there? Apparently she had sold some false maps, describing a labyrinth pf passageways that did not, for the most part, exist. She had actually gotten a few right, but even a broken clock was right twice a day.

Upon seeing the number of students in detention her first thought was - what happened to the management of this school. Well, the fact that they were seeing ramifications would suggest that they were actually doing something right.

@Dahlia Lee & @Della Barfield

The girl had come across the answers to an upcoming exam. That was all there was to it, she came across the answers and she decided to not only keep them but to 'share' them with interested parties... for a nominal price. 10 sickles might have been a good deal for those that earned an A, not even an O on that exam; but it was a great deal for a full day of labor. Indeed, her renumeration was not a 'livable wage.'

She was asked top pair up, as was everyone there. It might have seemed like an offhand mention - find a buddy - but it was more than that. It was dangerous to travel alone, a partner meant a witness, a safety net, someone to call for help if the earth swallows them whole.

Dahlia would do neither the labor or find a partner. Rather she would wander off, walking along the surface of a felled tree. No interaction, no intervention, she was a person who was existing passively in this situation. Perhaps that will be why she makes it to the second year, not because she listened or she learned but rather because she did not stir anything enough to get cut down.

It was dangerous to delve deeper into the woods alone, something Della Barfield knew well enough. She had stayed out of trouble, drama and disaster for the most part, but surely she had heard stories and knew the basic horror tropes to avoid. One being, don't wander off alone unless you want to be the first to die.

Della was not even in detention for a 'good reason', it was the sort of reason that caused the headmaster to take a double take. Afterall what are "googly eyes"? Was she hitting on the suits of armor in the halls? How lonely could these students be! Solomon never got an answer to what googly eyes were, the Ministry would similarly be confused when they read her permanent record, but that was an issue for future Della. Present-day Della just needed to get through a day of hard labor.

She would approach Dahlia, better someone that did not know her than someone that did. "Hey, would you like to work together? I’m Della, by the way. I’ve seen you in the dorms, but I don’t think we’ve met yet."

Della probably should have found a different partner to pair up with. Dahlia's inner narrator found pride in her 'disciplinary issues', she had no real intention of making an honest effort. Apparently she honestly believed it was a 'good idea' to slack off in front of a headmaster, even if he looked semi-disengaged. That was like raising the pot when it looked like their competition might have a straight flush and in their hand they were nursing a pair. It was the sort of odds a cleaver person does not generally take, but on rare occasion it does actually pan out.

So what were they supposed to do again?

Della (Parselmouth) would hear a low, raspy voice call out to her. Nobody else could hear it call her name. "∂єℓℓα" Yes, something knew her name. "яυη gιяℓ"

@Mikaela Hendricks & @Skylar Blue

Allegedly afflicted with sleep walking - apparently she had only dreamed of sneaking out after hours. Apparently the staff person that had caught her shared the same dream and even filled out paperwork in their sleep. Despite selective memories, the criminal would have to serve her time alongside the other delinquents.

The girl would say her prayers to her saints, the fact that it was pluralized suggested that perhaps she should skip over St. Thomas Aquinas (patron saint of students) or St. Joseph of Cupertino (the patron saint of studying and test-taking) in favor of the saint of lost causes, St. Jude. This was truly a lost cause, but perhaps St. Joseph, saint of hard work and manual labor will aide her as she embarks on her first task - find a partner. [If you did not mean these saints, sorry.]

She would seek out someone familiar, someone 'safe' and find a partner - Skylar Blue.

This narrator cannot really add anything to the wraith story and if it was a literal statement or merely an unreliable narrator so the writer is going to skip over that whole area. Spirits are usually bound to a single location or object, ghosts being people one can often recognize; wraiths being what happens when that identity erodes. The loss of memory, the generational obsession, aspects of stories this narrator knows nothing of, so has nothing real to actually add.

Not that it mattered here and now, Mikaela Hendricks asked to pair up. "Took you bloody long enough. You, Mikaela Hendricks, have some explaining to do. And I have all the time in the world to listen." For what? Who really knew! But they also had work to do.

@Isabeau Nevara & @Reyna Evergreen

Apparently she had opinions about the headmaster's chosen attire. The goblin-made armor was a gift. The sunglasses, well they were on sale. The pineapple, that was a special order he had demanded of the house elves. The teeny umbrella, well he had a whole drawer of those, they effected the taste more than one would think. While some might have a moral complaint, Solomon Lear would rest well knowing - I am not the one that got detention, this was his Saturday too.

She had been caught selling exam answers to her peers. That was the problem with having so many students that each professor taught the same class a few times a day. The wizarding population in spite of all the danger, was still growing. Perhaps the professors would have to swap to more practical examinations.

She was not looking to make new friends, she was just attempting to get through the day, but she would find herself being approached by one of Hogwarts rising star students, Reyna Evergreen. Reyna was a fourth year, so older than Isabeau; she was also a writer and a duelist, one of those girls that kept too busy to get in trouble or one would have thought. But no, she had forged a handful of permission slips for some of her underclassmen. A means by which they could sneak into Hogsmeade if they so close, a locale that was closed off to them until they reached their third year.

She also did not have a partner and she also seemed to have a healthy enough sense of sense and capacity to interface with other humans that she was able to make the first move. She approached Isabeau and introduced herself. Isabeau was far from warm over the course of introductions, but curiosity tugged at her enough to ask - what did you do?

@Nabi Park, @Matthew Campbell, @Winnie Athanatos, @Evelynn Decipio & @Marshal Mozor

It would seem that Aamon has a 'type' when it comes to young women. While one Angel was not sure if she was indoors or not, the other was not sure if Gideon, who she had seen at the ball, had ever left the Forbidden Forest. Yes, the forbidden forest, a moment where Gideon did more than reveal his own true nature, but also Winnie's.

Indeed, Gideon, or something that wore his face was ambling through that castle even now. But he was a problem separate from this. Nabi had been caught by Hogwarts staff attempting some sort of occult ritual, of course the claim was it was "ironic" but that was because claiming it was "iconic" probably would have resulted in a letter to both of their parents.

Nabi would take note of the tapping noise, remembering something only a few students still knew - the forest had a will of its own. At least parts of it did. The ruined treeline here was like an old scar, something that was healing but a nasty mark remained where there was pain. Nabi would know better than most to remain out of the woods, even during the day, even if the day time was the safest time to enter.

Nabi had been caught performing some sort of occult ritual. Apparently her not-boyfriend that she did not dump at the viaduct was not allowed to talk or dance with other girls, such as @Angel Dayes. Winnie, wife of a well-known wizarding family had taken her beneath her very pink wing and wished upon the youngest Athanatos she knew of the curse of bad hair or torn pants. She should have invoked her family name, she probably could have gotten off with a 'warning' even if her target was her brother-in-law. Winnie would look around at the other students gathered, there was sure a lot of other students here. Winnie was on the short-side, many underclassmen towered over her, perhaps that was why she did not find Nabi before Matthew had.

At least Matthew was more honest than most of his fellow detainees. If one listened to the internal narratives circulating through the group, most of his peers were apparently framed, misunderstood, unfairly targeted, or heroically punished for crimes they absolutely did not commit. Matthew alone seemed willing to admit that, yes, he had in fact done something profoundly stupid. It was not something new, but the modicum of self-awareness made him a stand-out.

In truth Matt was guilty of several profoundly stupid things, actually. Exchanging himself for a dormmate he could barely stand was one of many errors in judgement. Making out with a known sociopath, was another. But he had to add onto this, breaking and entering the Restricted Section of the library. And, perhaps more tragically, his carefully concealed supply of illegally acquired alcohol that had been discovered in the course of the fourth trespass which was ultimately confiscated shortly afterward.

The boy had been unraveling for some time. Admittedly, Matthew may have harbored suspicions regarding the origins of Solomon’s own aggressively strong morning "juice" but Solomon had not touched the confiscated liquor personally. Teenagers invariably purchased alcohol the same way they made most decisions: prioritizing quantity over quality with suicidal enthusiasm. The bottles Matthew had smuggled into the castle smelled less like proper liquor and more like industrial solvent with aspirations to be carcinogenic poisons.

Drinking it would not have produced a pleasant buzz. It would have produced liver damage and a punishing headache by midafternoon. So no, Solomon preferred refinement in his vices. The house-elves, however, had enthusiastically accepted the confiscated stock.

Which, in hindsight, explained why the meals that day for the innocent denizens of this castle would be somewhat erratic. Soup portions which would vary wildly in temperature, one tray of rolls had emerged inexplicably purple, and at least one elf had become emotionally overwhelmed while serving pudding. The criminals here would be "safe" comparatively, a peanut butter and jelly sandwich to-go and a cup of milk, oat milk for the vegans. There were few ways the house elves could mess that up, but there were incidents. Mostly jelly on jelly bread coverage.

Still, the alcohol itself was not the truly important issue. The real question, the one nobody had bothered asking: was why Matthew had entered the Restricted Section in the first place. And perhaps more concerningly: what had he actually found there?

Because Matthew had not gone searching for power. Or forbidden rituals. Or dangerous magic for the thrill of it. He had been searching for information on restricted memory magic. Not for himself. For his father. A diagnosis of dementia had slowly hollowing the man out, piece by piece, until more than simple names and specific incidents were lost and larger memories itself had begun to slip loose like rotting threads from old fabric.

And somewhere in the desperate, irrational part of Matthew's mind, he had convinced himself that if magic could alter memories, erase them, fracture them, bury them. Then perhaps magic could also preserve them. Restore them. Save them before they disappeared completely. And he was right, they absolutely could.

But he did not need to find the answers for that in the restricted potion of the library, the answers he needed came from the classroom. Memories potions existed. Other memories could be restored, recycled. Broken things could be healed, when put into the right hands. But that was a different problem entirely. There were rules, and muggleborn knew that magic was meant for wizards, not muggles. It was one of the many unfair truths he had come to learn, with so much suffering in the world and so many answers just on the other side of the veil, wizards were allowing people to suffer, to lose who and what they were and to die unnecessarily. They, the wizarding world that is, could help him right now if they so deigned it necessary, but they did not. They would ignore this, call it a muggle's unfortunately plight, and then carry on with their lives never learning anything about the man whose legacy would be lost with his memory.

The Restricted Section would never give him the answer he actually wanted, because the problem was never a lack of magic. It was that the people with power had already decided who deserved to be saved by it.

The restricted section of the library would not give him the answer he was looking for.

Unique Information:
Hogwarts housed numerous books, some first and only editions. Handwritten accounts by scholars who once lived in these same walls, some by former professors, and others still by those that wished for their work to be preserved, but needed it to also be forgotten.

Reducio

A sealed Ministry dissertation from the late 1800's discussing memory extraction from elderly human subjects, some muggle who were suffering from "degenerative dissolution of self."

Most of the text is clinical and detached, but several lines might horrify Matthew:

"Muggle minds deteriorate more rapidly once exposed to magical recollection stabilization. The psyche appears incapable of reconciling preserved memory with non-magical neural decay."

"Subjects retained emotional recognition after linguistic collapse."

"Family members described the preserved personalities as 'almost correct.'"

The implication being that wizards had attempted to preserve dying minds before. That they could save the memories, but there were other losses in function that they could not save. That memory was more than an aggregation of lived experiences, that there was learning and understanding that also needed to be applied and that was at times lost.

Reducio

A heavily restricted theoretical text proposing that memories are not entirely stored in the physical brain, but partially imprinted onto the soul itself. This book suggested that magical extraction can preserve memory independently of bodily decline. But repeated annotations in the margins warn:

"Transferred memories degrade into imitation over time."

"Continuity of consciousness cannot be proven."

"Copies are not survivals."

This theory raises more questions than it truly answers, but it also adds a horrifying possibility that magical memory restoration might only create convincing replicas of a person rather than truly save them. But it also brings up another quandary, even if it is merely an imitation, if it is the same soul, with the same memories, doesn't that mean that they are the same person?

Reducio

This was a book that seemed to have been placed between unrelated volumes. Written by an unnamed healer that must have worked at Hogwarts within the past several years considering the age and scent of the pages, had secretly treated a seer whose dementia progressed unusually slowly after exposure to experimental memory draughts.

However, the file ended abruptly with no outcome listed. Just a final attached notice:

FURTHER INTERVENTION DENIED UNDER SECRECY ACCORDS.

It seemed official even if it lacked the Ministry of Magic's seal.

Reducio

An obscure branch of potioncraft and magic of dubious origin where memories could be distilled into liquid form and reintroduced later. While in concept the distillation of a memory was not dark magic, there was no official designation of the spell as a charm mentioned in the book nor was it clearly described as a potion because there was no brewing process described.

This was more like an encyclopedic account, not a blueprint on how it was done. Allegedly, Memory Wines were mostly used recreationally among wealthy purebloods. A means by which elders passed their memories onto their children to ensure that family secrets remained within their bloodline.

But one passage mentioned something concerning:

"Repeated use resulted in personality fragmentation, dream leakage, and eventual inability to distinguish lived experience from implanted recollection."

Matthew would realize there are magical ways to preserve pieces of his father. Perhaps not the man wholly, but the parts that mattered, even if it was more a work of defiant patchwork. Even if every method seems monstrous.

But then, Matthew would make a truly dangerous discovery before his invasion of the restricted section was discovered.

Reducio

This missing page was not metaphorical, it was a page that was physically removed from a book discussing "cross-compatible mnemonic stabilization."

The surrounding text implies somebody discovered a way to anchor deteriorating memories inside another living mind. A human vessel. But the missing page was torn out decades ago.

But in faded ink near the binding, Matthew could make out a partial sentence: "…transfer survivability increases significantly among blood relations…" And beneath that, written by hand: Do NOT allow the Athanatos family access to this process again.

So, magical dementia treatments existed that went well beyond the memory charms that would prolong Matthew's father perhaps another decade. But for some reason, someone suppressed them.

Today Matthew would need to labor, finish whatever the the adults expected of him and do a better job not getting caught next time. No lessons were learned. He would approach Nabi Park, a girl he had gotten to know for the better or the worse of it all, she was if nothing else a 'stable' presence. He needed to pair up with someone and who better than someone that absolutely understood the dangers of this school, even if he was slowly becoming one of the very terrors Nabi should learn to fear.

Winnie would make her way over to the duo who were already in conversation. Nabi was Winnie's partner, right? They committed crime together, so they did the time together also.

@Winnie Athanatos' Paragon of Health boosts @Nabi Park and @Evelynn Decipio, giving them both 10% more overall health.

Winnie had no intention of assisting Campbell. She had every reason to distrust him, especially after the poison ivy incident. More than that, he was a man, or at least a male and most of them were infuriating, as both Nabi and Winnie had already declared. Matthew did not help his people's cause as he asked her about her honeymoon, a potential sore point for all he knew.

The group only continued to grow, a trio became a quartet as another ginger joined the 'pair.' Evelynn Decipio was only a month away from graduation, a former prefect and captain, she was used to being on the other side of the law. She was caught broom racing indoors. Considering all of her other transgressions through the years, this one was probably one of the more mild incidents she was actually guilty of.

She found the entire scenario uncanny, and she should have. Solomon Lear rarely hosted detention, in fact he rarely left the tower unless it was for ceremonial purposes, yet on this day he seemed comically prepared to vacation while the students toiled. She would be graduating with more questions than answers.

Headmaster Lear had gone missing several years ago for months, only to be found in the groundskeeper cabin emaciated and half-mad according to the gossip. But how true was rumor? It was hard to say for certain. There were a few that had a notion of what happened, but they did not talk about it. The paintings were never recovered, nor were his herd of Gregs that used to fill his office with a cacophony of squeaks and purrs. While the headmaster's health returned in time, he had become an insular creature, more akin to a figurehead or a person of ceremonial relevance than a man engaged with his public. He seemed to prefer it that way or perhaps it had to be that way.

There was also the murder of Dolores Umbridge, something that happened before Eve had come to the school, but she had come to know the alleged witnesses to the murder. Considering their dealings with hags, their testimony seemed less certain.

With so many concerns and considerations, the lioness would come over-prepared, unlike most of the students. Silver Arrow with attached compass, cloak of camouflage, wizard's camera, some empty vials, antidotes for common and uncommon potions, black fire potion, blood replenishing potion, and essence of dittany.

Eve recognize numerous faces, some peers or even rivals, some with better reputation than others. A few she even considered friends. Evelynn would hear the order for pairs, and perhaps due to her experience she would understand what that meant. Why he was pairing the children when they were so close to the wood. Perhaps she would recognize that this was not a cruel social exercise.

Eventually Eve would set her eyes on her sister, well half-sister Winnie Athanatos. There was of course the salutation followed by the main question: how? How did the Ravenclaw of all people end up in detention?

Marshal had also found himself in the same detention, an apparent entrepreneur, he was caught selling fake maps that revealed secret passageways to a gaggle of first years. He was primarily caught because of where the secret passages could allegedly be found, the actual chimney was not a secret exit from the school, it was a smoke -filled column with flames at the base. By the third rescued firsty, Marshal's name was finally spilled.

He was suspicious of the headmaster's presence and for good reason. The man had been rarely present these past few years, his name was often at the bottom of official statements. He was often seeing standing, rarely and often briefly speaking for official school events. But nothing more than a glance, ideally from a distance. But it was not always this way, it was before Marshal's time, but for three years Solomon Lear was the Professor of Care of Magical Creatures. It was shortly after the Umbridge incident that Ackerly Blackburn stepped down from his station as Headmaster and Professor Lear who was Deputy Headmaster for less than 3 months at that time had become Headmaster. Headmaster Blackburn's quiet departure from staff was never truly discussed, but for most it did not seem relevant. Blackburn left just as things started to go wrong in Hogwarts, the stress of it all, was the most common rumored excuse. And, it was probably true.

The isolationist lion would have likely went off on his own if it was not for Eve's demand to Move. It was not like they needed to rush through the acquisition of supplies, the day was not likely to end because it was about to rain, because it started raining, or because they got their gear faster. This was going to be a long day.

It was going to be a long day, and the young man down-played the logic in his own head. She was the only person he'd seen that might not altogether annoy him over ten hard hours. This man literally pined for the red head, for actual years. Ever since Eve was the only one to show a modicum of judgement during the 'train incident' years ago. Marshal had to sort of luck where he might get his with a meteorite if he dared look through a telescopic lens. So when the train derailed and somehow both flung him from the car, rolled over and in rolling over, rolling over him, one would have thought whatever karmatic retribution he had earned in his last lives had been just served, but they were wrong. Aide did not come gracefully or kindly. A student failed to bandage him, their poor wandwork resulted in his mummification and the leap of logic that could have aligned with tossing virgins to a volcano because the jungle might otherwise get mad, decided to put him out of his misery.

Yeah, Hogwarts students were at times a special brand of stupid. But Eve had the brains to realize that murder was not an effective treatment for being run over by a train. Besides that, she was hot, maybe even hotter than Winnie. Maybe the guy just had a thing for ginger girls, who knew. But Eve was still around, standing here today in an unfamiliar environment around all these deviants. Wasn't Marshal the best among these deviant youths. Someone who could lend a hand to a pretty girl, and perhaps even enjoy a punishment for once.

Nabi Park - 25% chance with Keen Eye to see something.
Roll: 82 Failed

Evelynn Decipio - 25% chance with Keen Eye to see something.
Roll: 96 Failed

@Livia Machavariani & @Camille De Varenne

Frankly everyone was appalled to hear that Livia Machavariani of all people had started a food fight. Tossing soggy potatoes and rubbery chicken at the other students was simply an act of barbarism. But here she was, accused and apparently convicted of the filthy crime: starting or perhaps in her case finishing a food fight.

Casting a spell while underaged, willfully at another person was also quite illegal, since the accepted circumstances of casting included academics and self defense. While the sausage might have been an offensive party, she was far from any actual danger.

Today was going to be a bad day, but it could have been ones hope that the young woman would learn a thing or two about fashion. Indeed only a man such as the headmaster could pull off attire that was essentially three violently conflicting identities forced into a political alliance. From the neck up, he resembled a retired celebrity hiding from paparazzi on the Amalfi Coast, which was not particularly far from the truth. In the headmaster's youth, Lear was a famed magizoologist who left the limelight after his daughter's death and the divorce from his wife was finalized and came to Hogwarts to escape the media's attention.

The rest of him, however, suggested a warlord expecting assassination attempts at any moment. Also, not far from the truth - people, not just his ex wife harbored numerous grudges. Some of those grudges were misdirected towards him. Several years ago one of his illegitimate sons, he likely had several others, broke into his office and forced Solomon into the floo network where events transpired that broke his mind. He was 'found' months later in a cabin on the grounds that now housed the groundskeeper. While the space was cleaned out, the space was obviously inhabited by something strange and quite mad. That son had died during the headmaster's absence, so amends were never made but the scars remained. The armor carried history the way noble houses carried grudges. A gift from when he was more popular than brave or even good. Goblin-made armor was the best kind, but it suggested something deeper than brand loyalty: it suggested his not-so-secret affinity towards the inhuman. Solomon Lear after all had dramatically changed the landscape of magical education over the past decade: openly accepting, much to the chagrin of pureblood and elitist families, half-breeds. It was not that long ago that werewolves would not have even been allowed in the school, if they were, parents would be outraged. Some still were. It was the same for service classes such as part-goblins, their lesser-than status was necessary to maintain the pecking order that ensured that certain families stayed on top and "Solomon was ruining it for everyone."

She would match herself up with Camille De Varenne after casting scourgify on her gloves. [Roll:6] Well, they no longer had poor people germs on them.

Camille De Varenne was a lovely creature, but he was none too bright. He was only a first year, so there were limited opportunities for a near-death experience. But still, considering how he had gotten himself here, his survival would prove to be far was less a testament to his judgment and more compelling evidence that the universe occasionally protected idiots for entertainment purposes.

Indeed, Camille was the sort of youth that had always been a trouble-maker, he just rarely got caught for his crimes. Trips to the kitchens, to Hogsmeade and to places besides flying class; all successfully accomplished crimes. He was caught drawing attention to himself on one of those illegal trips of Hogsmeade - he had fed "authentic Italian espresso" to a pygmy puff. Once the caffeine hit, the fluffy beast went on a rampage, who knew that those little balls of fluff could crack stone, but the Muggle Artifact shop now suffered a crack in the foundation. A fractured hip for an elderly wizard and a gaggle of girls accosted by the small pink terror drew not only the attention of the citizenry but also one of the Hogwarts staff members who had been enjoying a satisfying shopping excursion until that very moment.

Why he thought that he was sent to detention for animal abuse on its own when it was obvious he had also snuck off school grounds to obtain that espresso. And why he thought it was a good idea to list his other crimes, the ones he had gotten away with Scott-free was a good idea was beyond the unfortunate professor who was only left questioning how strong an academic curriculum we offered if this was one of the products of their efforts. A bit of self-reflection was cut short as the boy went on about Hogwart's failure and hypocrisy. That he was somehow unfairly treated and nobody gave damn... A damn about what - not liking his house, having classes to attend or having boundaries that he took more as casual suggestions.

Somehow he found the admissions of guilt to be well-chosen words. But little of what he said was in fact well-chosen. "Until sunrise - is this even legal?" Surprisingly yes. But also, it was already sunrise... it was sunset that he would have to work until. He was never assigned anyone to be paired up with, but perhaps that was what his ego claimed as he decided he was paired up with Livia Machavariani, a girl he gave far too much thought to for him to actually be upset over the pairing. "Ugh, you again," instead of a hello. "What did you do this time, call out a professor for incompetence mid-lesson? Shocker."

@Laasya Manjunath & @Harumi Everdane

Another pair of "innocent" victims of the Hogwarts justice system, Lasasya Manjunath and Harumi Everdane. Laasya had apparently "tripped" and her glass of juice defied gravity and physics, soaking a particularly upset portrait. Their stories certainly did not align - it was a mistake, it was an assault. Either way, the girl was in detention.

And then there was Harumi, she was caught forging permission slips. It felt more like a Slytherin business venture, but no house owned the rights on deviancy. Well, she was holding it for a friend, Max something or other. Probably not @Maximilianus Kenneally Vidler, he was selling fake prophecies for profit. So another Max, unless the boy had gotten a corner market on various devious deals.

The two lone girls would find one another, and in their shared solo journeys decide it was better to work as a duo.

Harumi Everdane - 25% chance with Keen Eye to see something.
Roll: 57 Failed

@Logan Baird & @Remy Break

Logan had produced several fake maps of the Hogwarts castle. There were facets of the school she had gotten right, they were indeed indoors, there were rooms and halls. By actual luck, happenstance or forbidden seventh year knowledge she even got a passageway or two right. She was however caught, it was not hard - she had sold her "work" cheaply and numerous students had gotten either a Baird original or an even worse drawn copy of the original made by an underfunded first year.

It did not take long for a student or two to be caught and for the eventual source to be located. The Baird family, mostly due to Clark, were known troublemakers so it was no surprise to the administration when they learned that Logan was also a deviant.

She would attempt to pair up with a boy who, if one were to judge him by his size, would assume the was close to her year. He was not, as his attitude and maturity would declare louder than any student roster. Remy had been caught beating up another student, who thankfully was also not sent to detention for being a victim. And it would appear that the right man was punished, Remy's attitude followed him into his detention. After giving the middle finger to the headmaster and rejecting rejecting both labor and human interaction with theatrical finality.

So Solomon would lower his sunglasses and ensure the now sitting boy was in his line of sight as he set his pineapple drink on his lap and drew his wand. The headmaster's wand was a piece of art - aspen wood and phoenix feather, intricately carved along the shaft the images of feathers. Ancient runes rested subtly between the carvings, polished smooth by decades of use. It looked less like a weapon and more like something belonging in a museum exhibit dedicated to dangerous men.



Solomon gave the wand a small, almost lazy flick. "Levicorpus," he incanted. A spell better known as the dangling jinx. A spell that would simply suspend the part-giant in the hair, upside-down, by his ankles. Whatever was in his pockets would now be on the ground.

Solomon casts Levicorpus on Remy
Attack: 15 Hit
Evasion: 7

The spell struck the boy instantly. For half a second, nothing happened. Then his legs betrayed him. As if an unseen force had yanked the boy up by his ankles, the boy was lurched not only upright but also upside-down. Nothing graceful about the scene, not even remotely. Blood would rush to his head, giving his face the color of a tomato. "It will be a long day like that," Solomon commented as he allowed his wand to slide back into his holster and he recovered his pineapple drink.

"You will find," the headmaster said calmly as he took a sip of his refreshing beverage, "that publicly disrespecting authority becomes substantially less satisfying when your head is below your trousers." He reclined back, "let me know when you are ready to work with your peers." It went without saying, but he could do this all day.

@Sebastian Cain Knox & @Blair Annabelle Du Pont

Sebastian was just another detention attendee trudged along with the group; this one apparently had done something involving brooms. Solomon had stopped attempting to keep precise track of every pre-teen and adolescent disaster some time ago. There were simply too many of them, and the offenses tended to blur together after the fifth incident report involving reckless velocity, minor property damage, or "it seemed funny at the time."

Still, broom-related stupidity ranked fairly low on the scale of catastrophes Hogwarts students routinely attempted. At least the Slytherin boy had not been caught trying to summon a devil into an abandoned corridor. At least he was not stealing restricted potion ingredients with the obvious intention of brewing something profoundly illegal in a bathroom cauldron (toilet). As far as Solomon knew, nobody had discovered this one halfway through an occult rite while bleeding into geometric symbols scratched onto the floorboards because their boy/girl-friend moved on after they broke-up their non-existent relationship.

By Hogwarts standards, Sebastian was incredibly well-adjusted. More importantly, the snake was not currently on Solomon's ever-growing list of students possessing aggressively self-destructive survival instincts. The headmaster maintained that list mostly out of necessity. Certain children radiated the sort of energy normally associated with doomed explorers, cult initiates, or people who poked sleeping dragons "to see what would happen" in spite of the very clear warning sign and charred bones at the cavern opening.

The broom incident boy, thankfully, seemed more irritating than terminal. And it would also appear that he was not taking this situation very seriously. Sebastian did not look for someone he knew, someone that would help him get through the day or heck survive it if things went wrong. He looked for a cute girl.

He did not choose Blair Annabelle Du Pont because she seemed smart, or sturdy or even capable. She just "caught his eye." There were worse decisions than trying to pick up girls in detention, chances were they had father issues and were less than clever if they got caught for some sort of crime. But maybe that was what he liked about them.

In her years, all of one year, indeed Blair had maintained an impeccable record of conduct. That was until she assaulted some poor student because they tripped near her book. Talk about unstable. Solomon just wanted a cup of cocoa and he ended up peeling the crazed girl off the other student

She was already miserable by the time Sebastian had the misfortunate of addressing her. Not every book was as appealing as their cover, a lesson he would perhaps come to learn. Honestly considering the way she responded, the dare devil might be better off taking his chances elsewhere, anywhere in fact.

"No. I don't. If you are going to ask me to be your partner, sure, I don't care, but if you aren't, just leave and don't waste my time."

While the girl might have been brought up in excess, she was poor in manners. Still, for whatever reason Sebastian took it. Agreed even to do most of the work? Unearned honor and consideration for the lady, despite the fact that there were several others that were still paired. Perhaps it was easy to accept her than to bother looking elsewhere, poor sod if that was the case.

A snake slithered along the ground, dark as midnight with eyes that were so blue they seemed almost purple. Understood only by Blair (Parselmouth), to Sebastian he would only hear a long hiss. нєℓℓσ мιѕѕ.

@Andrea Woodsburn & @Robin Lockett

A stereotypical pureblooded Ravenclaw, born with money and prestige and gifted with either the natural brains or the ambition to engage in study, Andrea did well in classes. She was not considered unique in terms of her demographic, but she was excelling in an area many of her peers struggled. So, armed with her talent and a modicum of entrepreneurial skill she started selling answers, but it did not last for long. It was quickly obvious that there was something "wrong" when the kid that used to proudly announce when in doubt, Charlie out resulting in answer forms that were in fact all C's, started getting near perfect scores, it became painfully obvious that someone was selling them test answers.

She was not making the first move, rather she stood there passively and waited for someone to approach her.

Fellow Ravenclaw, Robin Lockett was also in the same detention. He was caught duelling another student. Spell slinging at another human, without the proper safety net could have resulted in yet another disaster at Hogwarts. The school nurse was already overworked enough, the school went through medical-oriented staff faster than more people went through cheap shoes.

Robin had no partner, much like the girl from the same house whom he did not know personally but it was likely she had a passing familiarity, Andrea Woodsburn. He attempted to partner up with the girl. Andrea accepted, even if it was without enthusiasm, she offered an introduction and asked Robin about their 'crime.' Andrea admitted to her own devious act - selling exam answers. It could be worse, it was just white collar crime, nothing dangerous or truly dastardly.

Quick Robin, this is your chance to impress a girl and to come off as the 'bad boy' nobody expected of them!

@Kaito Foxglove

Kaito Foxglove was a detention regular. To Kaito, desks appeared to exist primarily as alternative sleeping arrangements when their pillow was too warm, curfews functioned more as loose philosophical guidelines, and class attendance was apparently a matter left entirely to personal interpretation. The third-year possessed the sort of reckless, untamed energy that Gryffindor House tended to cultivate in alarming quantities: equal parts bravery, curiosity, and an absolute absence of self-preservation.

This particular detention, however, required several distinct layers of stupidity working together in near-perfect harmony. Firstly, Kaito had attended an occult gathering near the wardline. Yes, he was not the man who set it up, but he was the one who was caught. This occult gathering was not merely a late-night séance in a dormitory with stolen candles and adolescent theatrics, but an actual gathering at the very edge of Hogwarts' protective enchantments, where the ancient wards thinned against the wilderness beyond. Which alone had transformed the session from annoying into dangerous.

In Kaito's defense: the board itself had been harmless enough. Ouija boards were toys. Cheap muggle nonsense wrapped in faux mysticism and sold to people who wanted the thrill of pretending death had a customer service department. Wizards already knew the afterlife existed. Hogwarts itself housed enough ghosts to make philosophical denial of a continued existence after death rather difficult, even if the concept of transference from a being to a spirit was not fully understood even to this day. Spirits, be them ghosts or poltergeists lingered constantly in large places filled with people, memories and sentimentality. Many of them bitter, confused, grieving, stubborn things incapable of surrendering whatever unfinished business chained them to the mortal world. While not all of them were pleasant, they were not dangerous for the most part.

No, the danger had never been the board. A Ouija board was not a telephone line to the dead. It was a dog whistle. And unfortunately, there were many things in the dark quite willing to answer. Because séances were never really about the tool itself. They were about conditions. Atmosphere. Vulnerability. Human intention shaped into invitation. Candlelight. Isolation. Fear. Midnight curiosity wrapped in ritualistic performance. The desire to feel something watching from the other side and the power one feels when they believe that they have control over it.

Kaito might have attended because it sounded interesting, but what he did not initially understand was that the wardline itself mattered. The boundary surrounding Hogwarts did more than repel intruders. It distorted things. Filtered them. Certain entities could not cross it cleanly, but near its edges they could still press against reality. Listen. Whisper. The staff thought they had caught the students in time, run them off back to the safety of their beds. Enacted consequences on the ones they caught, quixotically believing that making an example of some would serve as a deterrent for all.

What Solomon and the rest of staff did not know was that during the séance, something had answered. But whatever it was, it was not like the ghosts that lived in Hogwarts. Those ghosts felt cold in a familiar way: human, emotional, even sad. Whatever this was, it felt hungry.

Unique Information: It was the moment the candles stopped flickering and instead burned perfectly still. The sudden silence of the forest. The way every insect noise ceased simultaneously, as though the grounds themselves had frozen in anticipation.

Then the planchette moved. Not slowly. Violently. Hard enough to splinter wood.

It spelled something: Run Do Not Dig.

He started cleaning up.

He would be eventually approached by Pyxis Hellebore, a third year known best for their work as a Duelling Captain for house Slytherin. Pyxis had not seen many detention sessions, which is good. That meant he lacked a reputation for trouble, his crime of being out late after curfew being one of the milder crimes that had earned a full day of hard labor. So hopefully when he announced his findings on this day, someone would listen.

He would wander off and get started with his day which he knew would prove to be most unpleasant. He would find Kaito Foxglove hacking away at the brush and he would notice something uncanny and familiar - strange white myconids that dotted the ground. The fungal growth was concentrated on the ground, not on the felled trees, just the soft, strange black earth.

These mushrooms were for a lack of a better word, distinct. White capped with strange red pustules about the hood, that looked more like sores than glowing berries or something delightful. They carried with them an early smell, no stink. It was the smell of rot, and decay, but not of vegetation but rather of meat. He had seen these before, years ago when he was younger.

Callback: The plant was not easy to remove. The thick stalk went deep into the ground and it would require two hands and a mighty (actually several mighty) yanks to extricate the plant from the ground. The roots went deep and seemed to wrap around rocks and other plants. The remains of a dead woodland creature apparently strangled by the roots of the plant came up with it.

Indeed, he had seen this before, even with the passage of years, that foul thing was unmistakable. Whatever Kaito and himself were uncovering, it could not be good.

@Hana Suzuki

Curiosity was what landed this girl here. She was caught sneaking into the forbidden forest. That was it, she had went where she was told to never go and thankfully she was caught before disaster happened. Now she was here, and the headmaster had ordered her to pair up. A traumatizing experience for many - prove you have friends, that you were likeable or at the very least relatively interesting.

She had no one in particular in mind, she made the offer more generally. "Hi, I'm Hana, Hana Suzuki. Soo, what did you all do to be here, I tried and snuck into the Forbidden Forest. You guys probably didn't do something that bad right? `And, does anyone want to pair up with me and clear the debris and stack the useless things? It would be fun... hopefully, I suppose."

The stranger she had propositioned was none other than Jada Blake, a half-blooded quidditch player for Slytherin. Despite sharing the same year, their different houses offered the pair for the most part divergent experiences, different friend groups and even different reputations. But they both shared one thread of commonality, even if they did not realize it on first meeting - Quidditch. They were both first year quidditch players, an uncommon achievement. often older, more experienced students held first string roles, so being on their house team's first string made the both of them a stand out.

"Jada Blake, first year, got caught sneaking into Hogsmeade." The girl ultimately accepted. She was likely another victim of @Cecilia Merrick or @Reyna Evergreen's shenanigans (might be a good way to thread yourself into one another's lives). "I'll be your pair if you like. Looks like it'll be a long morning..."

At least they would not be working alone.

Although that might have been the better option. Some people belonged in detention and perhaps Jada was among them. She explained what had gotten her into detention, a forged slip, that was it. Simple enough, and hopefully lesson learned. Wrong, upon first opportunity a terrible thought escaped the girl's lips:

@Richard de Montmorency & @Skylar Astor

The Slytherin was simply caught sneaking into Hogsmeade. It was nothing particularly salacious, but it was a rule breech and for that reason the first year would land himself in detention. "You said... you went into the forest right?" That place that has forbidden in the name? Yeah, that one. "Would it theoretically be possible to do it again?"

When the headmaster asked the students to pair up with someone, he would find a girl without a partner, Skylar Astor. Skylar was a girl from the same year and the same house. She had, like many other students, snuck into the Forbidden Forest. Apparently the name failed to serve as much of a deterrent. There was sadly international law against the use of razor wire, something -something - human rights violations. Like not getting torn apart by a hungry forest or the creatures within was any kinder.

Richard would make his way over near her, wordlessly declaring their pairing as neither addressed the other. This was the sort of awkwardness that was common in Hogwarts. Don't say what you want or what you mean, just make it happen.

Skylar was already working on the weeds when she finally addressed him. Awkward introductions, he did look like the illegal library type didn't he? She would eventually give a name, Skylar Astor. Her hands already dirt-covered, hopefully they could work together and the day would pass by a little easier. Charming introductions were made, Richard found some junk on the ground as well as a small cairn made of blackened stone half-hidden by the grass.

A glint of something caught the dim, overcast light.

@Fawkes Chaos & @Aislin Darragh

It wasn't that she was a perfect student, she had just been rarely caught. She had snuck out on frequent intervals to look from the Astronomy Tower, being a prodigal in the subject, the stars were a bit of an obsession for the girl. But there were times that it was easier for her to slip out of her dorm than others, specifically aligning with lunar patterns. Something that would not be noticed by those whose eyes were not generally focused upward.

Unique Information: It was often professors, house elves and adult staff rather than prefects who patrolled on nights of the full moon or on nights of a new moon. Those nights she would find it nearly impossible to break into the Astronomy Tower or to break out of her dorm.

She was not even caught sneaking out, which she had done often. She was caught with a forged permission slip, possibly by @Cecilia Merrick or @Reyna Evergreen (might be a good way to thread yourself into one another's lives). She did not get very far and the forgery was basically a carbon copy of several others the staff had confiscated. Hers was added to a drawer of slips that appeared similar and she was granted a new slip instead: detention.

While Fawkes was not willfully destructive, nor was she violent, unlike Aislin Darragh who was slinging spells at her cousin. The duelling captain should have known better - someone, more likely her cousin, could have gotten hurt. Perhaps that was why they did not also suffer a day of hard labor, he was a victim in this situation.

Aislin would scan the crowd and find Fawkes before the girl could find her. Another captain, same house at least. "Fawkes, hi!" at least she knew the girls name. She waved the weapon he held in hand (shears) which threatened to lob off some fingers if she was not careful. "D'you want to be partners?"

The answer was of course 'yes', why would it be anything else?

@Lauren Vanes & @Rosalyn Willows

With friends like Lauren, who would ever need enemies? The greatest tragedy of all of this was not that she was caught or that she had detention, it was that she had to endure this punishment without @Briar Anderson. She should have been punished too... for something.

Dramatic, as always, she knew she would not survive the day without fulfilling her social activity quota. Not because of actual threats like dark wizards, dangerous creatures, curses, or negligent staff. This was 'peak Gen Alpha energy.' In truth, the girl deserved to be here. She had decided that because others had hurt her, emotionally, that she would hurt others. It went deeper than sentimental injury, she wanted to cause actual harm. She chose something that was even more vulnerable than her - the living portraits.

To many students, portraits were decorations. Background noise. Magical wallpaper that occasionally talked too much. But that understanding was shallow; the sort of ignorance only children possessed. The portraits were not truly alive, no, but neither were they simple paintings. They were imprints. Echoes carefully cultivated to emulate the witch or wizard they depicted. Over decades, sometimes centuries, many portraits learned directly from their subjects, adopting speech patterns, memories, habits, opinions, even mannerisms.

They were not the original person. But they were close enough to unsettle anyone who thought too hard about it. More importantly: they were aware. The portraits could feel humiliation, fear, loneliness, even attachment. Some paintings developed friendships with staff members who outlived generations of students. Some grieved when neighboring portraits were damaged or removed. Others slowly went mad from centuries spent trapped inside frames watching history repeat itself endlessly through painted eyes.

And Lauren had targeted them precisely because they could not meaningfully defend themselves. Several portraits had been vandalized. Some torn. The witnesses - their victims, the ones that 'survived' in any case. Indeed, it was possible her siblings had tattled (and if that was her intended story, sure) but even if a human had not told her story, the paintings would have.

She would find a partner in Rosalyn Willows, "Rosie," she began, "are you okay with us pairing up for detention? And also... what exactly do we have to do?" Having missed the Headmaster's incredibly basic instructions which involved gloves, shears, finding a partner and clearing up this mess.

Rosalyn was probably not the best choice to ask to reiterate what the headmaster expected of them. The girl had gotten herself so lost she wandered off Hogwarts grounds, down the only road from the school to the next town a mile away by mistake. It was of course 'in error', the was terribly lost.

No, the staff did not buy it either, but it was what the girl kept on telling herself. She accepted Lauren's invitation to pair up, gave the girl the same exact line about accidently sneaking into another city and explained what the headmaster expected of them - to clear the old wardline. That's it, manual labor.

Lauren's reason for detention was a bit more... concerning. A lot of people would have lied or even downplayed what happened. But no, not Lauren. She admitted to the whole thing: "Well, I guess I'm actually guilty and deserve this detention -- and possibly expulsion, unlike you. I vandalised moving portraits that featured historical figures... Well, I was just too angry at my siblings, you know who they are -- Arianna and Felix. Brats. They snitched to Headmaster Lear, of course. Overcome by rage, I simply scratched my quill on a moving portrait." Yeah, that was a thing. She did the thing. She admitted to the thing. She even went on to admit she just wanted to cause harm.

In the end, this admission was all about herself. Every word of it. What she had wanted. What she had felt. What satisfaction she had taken from the violence. How others would perceive her. What punishments she might suffer. What darkness supposedly lived inside her.

Even her guilt revolved entirely around her own reflection. Lauren spoke as though she were confessing monstrous evil, but beneath the trembling admission and self-loathing theatrics there remained something self-centered about it all, an endless orbit around her own pain, her own corruption, her own imagined tragedy. The portrait she had mutilated barely existed in the narrative except as a prop within Lauren's emotional crisis.

You see, Lauren spoke of scratching ears off. Of dark magic. Of being dangerous, which she admittedly was in the presence of something utterly defenseless and dependent on her. Of worthlessness and abuse and death.

Yet nowhere in the torrent of despair did she truly linger on the portrait itself. Not on the fear it experienced. Not on the awareness trapped behind painted eyes while she carved into it. Not on the fact that another conscious thing had suffered because she wanted release.

The harm mattered less to her than what the harm implied about her identity. That was the uncomfortable truth beneath the breakdown. This was not genuine moral reckoning or an actual human confession to a trusted confidant. It was narcissism wearing the costume of self-hatred.

Of course one would be left to wonder why she said all this. What she would get out of all of this. It was likely that she wanted someone to insist that she deserved love. Deserved safety. Deserved existence in spite of her transgressions. That love was not earned, when in fact to an extent it had to be or it would have no worth. It would just be a word said, a title given arbitrarily.

But buried beneath the dramatic proclamations about darkness and death wishes was a quieter, uglier reality. Lauren was not uniquely evil. Selfish, yes. Self-centered, certainly. But more than all of that, she was simply young enough to mistake intense emotion for depth where were was none, and destructive admission for accountability, when in truth neither was true.

She was not far from where Della Barfield, not close enough to see the interaction, not that Della could see the source either. But the name as well as the command was distinctly in the tongue genetically passed down by ancestors with a strange, and often rumored dark relationship with serpents.

@Tatiana Contraire & @Ophelia Vanderbilt

Tatiana Contraire was also caught brewing butterbeer in her dorm. Apparently crimes should not be punished if they happened near the end of the school year. Based on what logic? Well, that was an unknown factor. She was here, the time of year was not her saving grace. The butterbeer was confiscated by the house elves, Tatiana's interpretation of 'excellence' did not match the house elves, but they still enjoyed a cauldron of homemade school-made butter beer.

Solomon had asked the students to pair up. Tatiana did not take her time contemplating the perfect partner, she simply grabbed someone, anyone. She grabbed hold of Ophelia Vanderbilt. No time for introductions, it wasn't like they had all day. Well, at least time for Tatiana to learn the girl's name, all she needed to know was that she had just been conscripted to complete the dirty parts of this detention while she ahem... took care of whatever was left.

Ophelia Vanderbilt had been caught selling forged maps of Hogwarts to curious first years. While she was a fist year herself, she held no class loyalty, not when there was a question of potential profit. Oddly enough she did not protest Tatiana's 'suggestion' to leave all the dirty work to her. But the girl was right, there was no speeding up their suffering, so she would get to work clearing away dead branches. As she did so, she would find blackened earth, the sort of earth one might find after a fire. The loose earth seemed to harbor these strange, foul-smelling mushrooms.



Tatiana had admitted to brewing butterbeer in her dorm room. She hacked away a bit of grass herself, despite stating she was going to leave the actual work to Ophelia. Her work revealing a few more strange mushrooms sprouting from the loose dark earth. It would appear that despite her earlier statement, she was more than willing to engage in small talk afterall.

@Avery Abernathy & @Paul Turner

A first year Gryffindor who had gotten herself into detention because she had told several impressionable first years, not unlike herself, that the Black Lake had a mermaid monarchy. The lie was a part of the problem, the heart of the issue was the fact that a few said students wished to 'pay tribute' to mermaid royalty. These mermaids were not anything like Ariel in the Little Marmaid.

She was far from stoked about the prospect of clearing the grounds until sunset, but she accepted the old dragonhide gloves and rusted shears. At least the girl had some sense as she thought, unlike the other miscreants - our Headmaster's got style.

She would have to get to work, but as she prepared to start her term a bad feeling would wash over her (Sixth Sense). A feeling that something was wrong. No details, that was the problem with intuition, there was no instruction manual for feelings, just a sense of disembodied dread that she would carry with her this morning.

Perhaps Paul Turner, a fellow Gryffindor would offer the girl some respite from her disembodied fears. Paul was a rather average lion, not one to shy from excitement, even if excitement had an uncanny correlation with crime and punishment in the academic world. Paul had started a food fight, perhaps the same one @Livia Machavariani (a fine excuse to add connections if you wish) had helped to finish.

A jelly-filled donut became a projectile. Unfortunately his aim was terrible, he missed and triggered an all-out war. The spark that started this inferno of muffins and porridge that saturated the Great Hall. He did not seem to carry the same sense of shame, disgrace, or unfairness the other students seemed to suffer from. Rather, this was more like a gathering among friends that involved child labor. Waving like this was a social outing rather than a punishment, he saw @Fawkes Chaos and @Robin Lockett who both earned an oddly sociable greeting. he even gave @Angel Dayes and @Tatiana Contraire high-fives - did purebloods even know about that social gesture?

The boy took the pairing off as a literal 2, no more and no less. So he overlooked those he recognized that had paired off and focused on @Avery Abernathy. He gave the girl a greeting and asked to join, there was a presumed yes because he then immediately went to work. Casting Wingardium Leviosa on branch, he did not really need those dragonhide gloves.

Paul casts Wingardium Leviosa
Roll: 6

Branches would start to hover several inches off the ground. Some thorny brambles and others moderately sized brush that seemed to accumulate along the forest's edge. The unnatural distribution would not be what would catch any eyes, but the strange, fractured seal on the ground



The discovery, if it was anything worthy of interest would quickly be drowned out by his 'partner's' banter.


"What's your name?"

"I think I've seen you in the Gryffindor common room before."


"If we are to clean, there are places in the castle require cleaning."



Poor Paul, he really did seem to attract interesting ones didn't he. not that he seemed to mind terribly, he actually answered the questions and continued with his work, managing both a social encounter and the tedium of work. But he also was not the most astute, he missed the part about gloves and shears being handed out to the students. He was bare handing it out here and it was by fortunate that he had not contacted anything unpleasant like poison ivy, a nest of fire ants, or something more insidious. Thankfully the girl's deviant ways continued, she had 'borrowed' an extra pair in case she grew an extra set of hands and passed them to Paul.

With an attitude like his, he might consider the rash to be a decorative element. The rain was of little consequence to him either, as this punishment became more what he happened to be doing on this day rather than what he was enduring.

They went about work, clearing brush and cutting away at the thorny bushes.

Avery Abernathy - 25% chance to identify something observing them (Sixth Sense)
Roll: 93 Failed

@Lindsey Springhall & @Crystal Theodora

Why would a former Quidditch Player then Duellist, recently appointed as Duelling Captain, suddenly attempt to try her luck in Broom Racing? And why would she attempt to race indoors? On top of this, why on earth would she steal a wobbly school broom when she possessed a sleek Starsweeper XXI?

All good questions, why was Lindsey Springhall racing through Hogwarts corridors on a school broom? the staff, and by extension Solomon Lear had no damn idea. But here she was, another deviant who ended up in detention mere weeks ahead of graduation. She had no idea who she should pair up with, she made no move towards anyone, but by happenstance a first year would address Lindey first.

Indeed a first year, Crystal Theodora had started working right away, hacking away at the high grass near the trail markers, piling old wood in a loose pile. Uncovering some of the wards that appeared not simply worn but cracked. As if something large had fallen on top of the now crumbled and slightly blackened ward.



"Please tell me you have a better excuse for being stuck in this manual labor camp than I do. I gave a Pygmy Puff an espresso, and honestly, I think the Headmaster's drink might be stronger than what I brewed."

It definitely was.

And as for the poisoned Pygmy Puff, a muggleborn might have appreciated the comparison more than most... there existed a very important rule regarding the tiny creatures that could best be summarized as: do not feed them after midnight. Or more specifically: do not give them caffeine.

As adorable as Pygmy Puffs appeared, all soft fur and squeaking noises and marketable levels of cuteness, they possessed absolutely no biological restraint whatsoever. Sugar already made them problematic. Caffeine transformed them these balls of fluff into small eldritch events.

Witnesses claimed the Pygmy Puff had begun vibrating almost immediately after being fed that triple espresso - its tiny round body quivering with such violent intensity that its purple fur blurred at the edges. Within minutes the fluffball had achieved speeds previously thought impossible for something lacking visible limbs.

Then it vanished. The creature launched itself through the castle at a velocity that defied several known laws of magic and at least one law of physics. Students reported glimpses of purple fur ricocheting down corridors like a cursed tennis ball. One second-year swore it ran vertically across a wall. Another claimed it bit a suit of armor, taking with it an actual chunk of steel before continuing onward without slowing down.

By the time the house elves had located it, the Pygmy Puff had somehow:

The creature was eventually recovered from inside the Owlery, where it continued vibrating ominously inside a blanket for nearly two hours afterward. Never again the Headmaster declared. His love of Pygmy Puffs bordered on the fanatic, this atrocity needed to be punished and punished it would be.

@Costanza Jewelweed & @Jessamine Hemlock

Costanza Jewelweed would have loved to have partnered up with Kaito Foxglove, but Pyxis Hellebore had gotten to him first. Darn it all. Not just the fact that Kaito was already taken, but by WHO Kaito was taken by. Costanza had held a grudge against the boy since the escape room, and she was not the type to forgive and forget.

When Costanza had come upon Pyxis' beloved pet Pygmy Puff bouncing innocently nearby in all its fluffy stupidity, she did not see something adorable. She saw opportunity. A petty, vindictive opportunity. And thus, with the moral clarity only a spiteful barely teenager could possess, Costanza fed the tiny creature an aggressively irresponsible amount of caffeine.

Not enough to kill it. Just enough to fundamentally alter the fluff's relationship with reality. At first, nothing seemed wrong. Pixel merely squeaked happily and bounced in place with slightly increased enthusiasm. Then the vibrations started. The tiny Pygmy Puff began trembling so rapidly its fur blurred at the edges like a poorly rendered photograph. Its beady little eyes widened into spheres of existential intensity. Somewhere deep within the creature's walnut-sized brain, primitive survival instincts gave way entirely to whatever force powered natural disasters.

Pixel ascended. The fuzzy little creature shot across the room like a projectile launched from divine wrath itself, ricocheting between students' legs at speeds that rendered it less "pet" and more "small pastel cryptid." Books exploded upward in its wake. Someone screamed when it briefly ran across their shoulder without slowing down.

It was pretty obvious who the source of the contamination was and she had earned detention. It was merely fate's cruelty that she would see both Pyxis and Kaito there also. She did not have it in her to approach the duo, so she started to clear brush on her own. Eventually Jessamine would approach the girl, her first pick Pyxis was already taken so Costanza would have to do.

Costanza would suddenly stop moving, her eyes would grow distant as if she was looking through the world and the Seer would have a vision.

The Vision:



Jessamine was caught permission slips for her underclassmen. She did not seem particularly bothered by the detention she earned, if anything, as odd as it seemed, she seemed excited for it. Detention was something she familiar enough with, and it would seem as she took a seat in the long grass that she had no intention of doing any actual work.

Of course, there was a reason why students were given gloves and shears.

Infestation: 25% (disadvantage), roll 27,11 Infestation

She would feel something burning about her legs. This itch that would start to burn. Ow... Ow. Ow. Ow! Her legs, they felt like they were on fire.

@Harvey Barrows & @Denise Yarbrough

Harvey did not seem the type to get caught fighting. He simply lacked the wingspan to be much of a fighter. Harvey was already preparing for a lender role in Gringotts, talking men into deals and mentioning risk in a way that ensured technical consent without prompting withdrawal. Gringotts, unlike Hogwarts, had security staff. He would not have to fight his own battles there, but retribution would be suffered for the next five years he spent in Hogwarts.

Now he was faced with the same punishment as the 'stupid people' he endured classes with. It was more than a morning excursion, he was expected to spend the whole day at the wood's edge clearing up debris from the springtime unpredictable weather. The part goblin did not have friends in excess, so he found nobody to approach and could only hope that someone would approach him.

The first to do so would be Denise Yarbrough, one of those "idiots" Harvey had taken advantage of. Denise was already on the poorer side of broke and Harvey made charity cases look wealthy by the time he was done with her. Instead of working harder, investing wiser or saving whatever she was given or earned, she decided to take a lesson from men like Harvey and @Camille De Varenne and be on the right side of the scam. She, along with her friend Max Vidler, had decided to sell fake prophecies for profit.

And as Harvey well knew - there was no shortage of idiots.

Not that she had gotten far, caught rather quickly by the Hogwarts staff, she was far from a genius when it came to things like this. The irony of being in the same detention as Harvey was nothing short of poetic. She had not learned much apparently from her previous interactions from the part goblin as she, as many women do, sent out a series of mixed signals. "Hey, Barrows! Looks like it's you and me! Who did you scam this time?"

@Ara Villa & @Linda Ramirez

Linda was another "innocent" student who was wrongly convicted. This one was selling exam answers. Most concerning, as far as she was aware, she did not do it. As if she could somehow forget what she had done or her complicity. Perhaps it was a psychological tool to protect her heart and mind, to remain that "good kid" she wanted to be seen as. Or, perchance, the memory was taken from her. A concerning possibility in a world where magic is very real.

She looked around at the students, and like several others she decided to not interface with the 79 other students who were also spending the day clearing the woodline. Solomon appeared ready for a casual day with the exception of the full suit of armor.

She would hear the knock come from the wood, like someone rapping their knuckles twice on a door. *knock* *knock* Then nothing more. She needed to find someone but nobody was coming to her. After a few awkward minutes, the headmaster would call out to Ara Villa, a fourth year so the same year as Linda and basically demand their coexistence and friendship. "You two," referring to the two girls. "Work together, the woods can be unpredictable," he added without giving further elaboration.

Ara Villa was just another Slytherin, like a good portion of the offenders, as one might expect were in fact Slytherins. The fourth year had fed an unfortunate Pygmypuff a Barkista Latte, whatever that was. It had the word latte in it, so it was likely contraband in this scenario.

In Ara's case, Mochi the lavender pygmy puff greatest skill was sleeping. In possession of energy levels equivalent to decorative moss underwent what several students later described as an "awakening event." Once the devilish beverage was consumed, Mochi would expand by three sizes that day. Its' beady little eyes dilated and its tiny squeaks accelerated into noises that resembled a small jet engine idling. Then Mochi started vibrating.

And then Mochi launched itself into the air. The Pygmy Puff ricocheted off three walls in under two seconds before disappearing down the corridor at horrifying speed. Chaos followed. Students reported glimpses of lavender fur moving through Hogwarts like an active haunting. It streaked through a classroom, before bounding off the professor's desk back into the hall where it activated several suits of armor simultaneously. One portrait not condemned to destruction by Lauren Vanes recounted how the creature "ran across the ceiling while screaming."

More concerningly, caffeine appeared to enhance not only Mochi's speed, but its already bizarre magical instincts. Pygmy Puffs were empathic little scavengers by nature, drawn instinctively toward emotional energy, warmth, and magical residue. The perfect pet when 1000x calmer. In the case of an overstimulated Pygmy Puff, their instincts interpreted their life's mission broadly.

Mochi began aggressively locating emotionally distressed students at impossible speed.

Crying in a bathroom? Mochi found you.

Having a panic attack near the Astronomy Tower? Mochi appeared instantly.

Trying to brood dramatically alone beside the Black Lake? Suddenly there was a screaming lavender sphere vibrating in your lap at seventy miles per hour.

The creature eventually breached the Headmaster's office after somehow squeezing beneath the door gap like an extradimensional lifeform. Witnesses later described Solomon calmly sipping tea laced with something while Mochi ricocheted violently around the room, scattering parchment and shrieking loud enough to crack glass. The headmaster reportedly watched the chaos in silence for several moments before muttering: "Ah. They've weaponized another one."

They would eventually track the destructive path of the purple menace back to Ara Villa, which would land her into a well-earned detention. "Fairness" a secondary consideration at this point, the headmaster was not going to bother graduating the severity of the offense to the amount of labor or effort expected. If it was overblown... well, good. There was less of a chance that they would ever do this again.

Ara's terrible presence would do no favors when it came to helping the youth find a friend. They made no attempt at partnership and expected the world to come to them.

@Archer Duncan & Prat Pass

Archer was in detention for reasons his own internal narration conspicuously declined to elaborate upon, which generally meant he had absolutely deserved it, like most of the students here in detention on this day.

Archer himself certainly did not appear outraged by the punishment, unlike most of the students here in detention. It was as if they expected the staff to also work alongside them, when they did not break any rules, brew any butterbeer, dose any Pygmy Puffs, attempt any occult rituals. If anything, Archer carried the relaxed acceptance of someone who routinely engaged in activities that should have earned detention and was barely surprised this particular incident happened to be the one that finally got him caught.

Because there was always something. With students like Archer, there was invariably something. The specifics hardly seemed important to him, and thus the narrator was left similarly uninformed regarding whichever disaster, forbidden practice, or deeply inadvisable revelation Archer had apparently stumbled into this time.

Now, standing at the ragged fringe where Hogwarts' maintained grounds dissolved into dark woodland, Archer looked entirely unbothered by the atmosphere surrounding the detention site. The recovering forest stretched ahead in damp silence beneath tangled branches blackened years ago by fire, the air thick with rot and wet earth and the faint lingering scent of old magic that did not feel out of place but did not belong.

Some of the students expressed annoyance over a day of labor. Some students were anxious about their proximity to the darkened wood, rightfully so. If Archer was intimidated, he possessed the sort of temperament that refused to grant fear the dignity of visible acknowledgment.

Also, Archer did not make any meaningful effort to socialize with the others. While clusters of students formed naturally around shared misery and mutual complaints, Archer simply drifted away from them with quiet inevitability, wandering toward the woods alone as though following some private instinct.

Prat Pass, former Prefect and former sporting captain, would eventually find Archer. A familiar face, and apparently a preferred one by the third year. The teen did not have much to say, he was not particularly ashamed to be here among the other degenerates. if anything, it was a miracle he had not been pulled into a detention sooner. Of course, the difference was not in the gravity of the crime, but rather in being caught.

No "hello," no "wanna pair up?" Just curiosity and the assumption that proximity meant a pairing - "What did you do to get here?"

@Lyanna Oak & @Valour Argentum

Lyanna Oak was, in every conceivable sense of the word, dramatic.

She had been caught selling exam answers and, as a result, earned herself an entire Saturday of detention, a fate she regarded with the sort of theatrical despair normally reserved for political exile or terminal illness. The loss of a perfectly good weekend was tragedy enough on its own, but matters deteriorated significantly the moment she realized who would be supervising the punishment.

Solomon Lear, the headmaster himself. That alone transformed ordinary detention into something vaguely mythological if she was not already speaking of Icarus and Regent.

There were far more students gathered near the treeline than she had expected, nearly 80 of them scattered along the kept edge of Hogwarts grounds. Students were provided with basic tools: gloves and shears in addendum to their wands, if they even knew how to use them. The clearing with tools in hand and varying degrees of resentment painted across their faces. The sheer scale of it unsettled her almost as much as Solomon’s presence did.

More importantly, she had not realized the headmaster routinely oversaw detentions personally. In truth, the headmaster didn't. But that was not what made the situation unusual. It was the circumstances that drew him out from his tower.

Solomon Lear was, by reputation and temperament alike, a distant figure within Hogwarts. Present, certainly. Watching, always. But not involved. He did not linger in hallways to meddle in student disputes, nor insert himself into childish disciplinary matters unless circumstances became especially serious. Most punishments were delegated to professors, prefects, or unfortunate staff members lower in the institutional hierarchy.

The headmaster typically remained apart from such things. Detached. Never oblivious, even if there were some that preferred to think that way. For the past several years, longer than the tenure of most, it was as though some invisible wall separated him from the ordinary lives of the students beneath his care. And perhaps there was.

Trauma had a way of isolating people. So did knowledge better left undiscovered. Solomon carried both heavily, though the precise reasons remained frustratingly opaque to anyone observing him from afar. He had disappeared unexpectedly for several months, but he was apparently found frail and thin in the groundskeeper cabin. The reason was never made public, the then heads of house gathered close around him and the truth of the matter was quickly swept under the rug.

As for Lyanna, she immediately began scanning the gathered students with the practical desperation of someone searching for the least intolerable companion possible. There was really only one viable option @Valour Argentum.

They were like in many ways. In fact, Valour was no less dramatic than Lyanna herself. The girl possessed the specific kind of recklessness usually associated with doomed mythological figures and particularly overconfident first-years. Seeking Icarus and all that. Valour had managed to earn detention because she was discovered in Hogsmeade, but that was the least of her crimes. Perhaps it was arrogance that led her to forge a permission slip to visit Hogsmeade despite being far too young to legally visit.

The concept could have been somewhat impressive had it not also been catastrophically stupid. That was the problem with most student crimes at Hogwarts: the cover-up generally failed long before the crime itself did.

There was simply no legitimate reason for a first- or second-year student to be seen wandering Hogsmeade unsupervised unless they were boarding the Mystic Pullman home for the weekend, which the overwhelming majority absolutely were not. Any competent adult spotting them there would immediately know something was wrong. But naturally, a single offense was apparently insufficient, as was the art of stealth and subtlety.

Rather than exercise caution, Valour and company had established an operational headquarters inside the Hog's Head - perhaps the single most suspicious place imaginable for underage students attempting subtle criminal activity. Especially considering their very presence in Hogsmeade was already against the rules, there was no reason for a first or a second year, permission slip or otherwise, to be in Hogsmeade unless they were taking the Mystic Pullman back home for the weekend. The Hogs Head was a far cry from the train station.

Even if every other infraction had somehow slipped beneath the faculty's notice, they had effectively painted a glowing target on themselves by choosing a location infamous for illicit dealings and poor judgment. Ironically, the forged documents themselves had not even been what exposed her. It was her audacity.

But at the very least the pair would be reunited as they served their sentences.

@Ava Lynn

She had arrived in detention for a simple lie. She had convinced some younger students, not that many were younger than an already first-year, but apparently there were a few naive enough to take the first year at her word: mermaids had a monarchy.

Unlike some of the other degenerates here, this was relatively mild.

She made no attempt to find a friend or to pair up. Upon arrival, she simply stood there.

@Erast Yan & @Leo Noxley

Someone had ratted Erast out, the prefect had earned the respect and trust of his professors until they learned about the boy's side gig: forgery. The prefect had perhaps not 'unfettered' access to the professor's papers, quills, even habits, but he had more access than msot and he was capable of using it to his advantage.

Who ratted him out?

Well, that was a mystery. But only one person knew, @Cecilia Merrick. while her betrayal was unlikely, a third party who lied... would have been simply 'lucky.' What were the chances of that? He would see a few familiar faces, namely Cecilia Merrick, a co-conspirator, the strange girl that was running about during the waltz (Angel I think). He would then take note of @Rosaline Everhart who was also with a partner and even @Leo Noxley. Leo had no partner yet, but Erast was about to change that. "Noxley," Erast brought the boy a pair of waiting gloves. "No slacking~ Let's work hard together."

Leo was caught duelling outside of the duelling club. Sure, he claimed the student started it, but only one of them left a lasting impression it would seem. It is like swatting a fly with a flame thrower. Sometimes subtly is the best method, even if there is a satisfaction derived from immediacy. At least he was not alone, a few of his fellow trouble-makers had turned detention into a social encounter. Leo probably preferred to pair up with one of the girls, but students were pairing up quickly and he was left with... Erast.

It would seem that detention was crueler for some than others. The metamorphmagus was claimed and what choice did he have unless one of those pretty girls stole him away? None. With fiery red eyes, a manifestation of his anger, Leo would get to work, not bothering with small talk or pleasantries.

His gloves would protect him from sharp stones and brambles, but he would also find them a bit cumbersome as he tried to grab brush and pile the the pulled weeds. As the weeds were cleared, the boy would find a strange stack of stones on the ground. Black, rounded at the edges, but not shiny or cared for in the least. More like a collection of found stones that were exposed to heat at one time or another, stacked one on top of another.

@Ebony Vetra & @Colin McCoire

How was it that a girl could make it all the way to their fifth year before they were caught performing occultist rights? That was almost as good of a question as was disbelieving the dangers of performing a possibly dark practice, even for theatrical purposes. What Ebony did was so very dangerous, even if she did not believe that she would be effective. Even if she was not effective. Even if she had made up the dark pacts and the faux Latin was not going to get anyone near some eldritch horror, that was not the point.

Fear was necessary to create boundaries. To tell someone to go no further. To turn back, to stop, go away. No, better still, run! When it becomes a joke, a farce, an artistic expression, the risk that the next child with unearned confidence calls upon forces beyond their control. Makes deals with something that actually has the power to ensure compliance.

Outraged at the absurdity of it all, Ebony was still going to serve out her conviction on the grounds under the watchful eye of the headmaster who was less than impressed with their reasons or their publication. She was going to work until sundown, and if she knew what was good for her, she would find a partner.

The only familiar face she could spy worth mentioning, not that she addressed or even approached him, was Colin McCoire.

Colin had made detention a family affair - Rigel had caught him causing a ruckus about the Astronomy Tower. At least he was not snogging some poor lass. Still, a crime is a crime, not that Colin was particularly fussed either day. He brought more energy to the child labor session than most and even held a hope that it might rain, which it would quite soon considering the weight carried by the eastern winds.

He would make contact early on with fellow fifth year, Ebony Vetra. He did not know her well, but he knew her well enough. Afterall, they had spent 5 years together in many of the same classes, attending the same events, and surviving the same disasters. They would take in the instructions - no socializing, no exploring, no venturing into the forbidden forest. Basic stuff, stay miserable, get work done, stay in sight. Which meant, at least to Colin, go into the woods immediately. Apparently he needed a hearing horn.

His ears would prick at the sound of two knocks. Two knocks that he heard, but the headmaster certainly did not.

But that was not the only thing Colin would encounter. Colin was one of several werewolves here at Hogwarts and he would smell something once he met the treeline, even if it did not trigger in his mind for several moments as he took in other sounds and scents. Yes, there were the scents of other students, some friend, some stranger. His sensitive nose took in the scent of vegetative rot, of wet soil and old fire. The same scents the other students took in, the relative smell somewhat unpleasant, like a composter. But there was also something else under it all, a rot that instinctively turns human stomachs when recognized - blood. Not fresh blood, no. This was old, putrefied in fact. Others with a similarly keen sense of smell likely also picked up on that, but few besides Colin would discover the final note in this odd bouquet - a potion. He had knew the smell of that specific potion, despite the passage of time. Known as Darkest Night.

@Elisa Shakestra & @Amethyst Castillo

Another occult ritual being performed "ironically." This was not even about Satanic Panic, this was about students dabbling in forces that they did not understand with an utter disregard for the the fact that there are monsters beyond wizards. If fear would not keep them in line, Solomon could only hope consequence would.

Elisa would break away from the heart of the crowd and get to work, intending to pair up eventually with @Amethyst Castillo, but they had not yet arrived. But the girl would arrive shortly after her, harried by the fact that she was almost late. Amethyst had been caught ineffectively stealing potion ingredients, apparently she needed to complete the crime successfully for it to count.

It was not like the professor places all the ingredients for each potion on sperate shelves. In fact many ingredients were used in various potions, in varying degrees with varying preparations. But apparently that was how she claimed she believed it worked, it would explain why she is failing potions class.

Now she was in community detention, she would have the opportunity to see some of those plants in their natural habitat. Upon the demand for pairs, she would jog over to Elisa and a duo would be formed.

But Elisa drew close, she would see something displace the leaves. It made no noise, because few creatures gave a warning before they struck. But she would see it spring from the dried leaves. A snake, but it looked wrong. Like its insides were on the outside. Fangs bared, it attempted to bite Amethyst's hand has she moves some long blades of grass aside.

Snake attacks Amethyst
Attack 17 (+5)
Evasion 7 (+7)
Damage: 150
Roll for poison (DC 20): 7 (+8) poisoned (disadvantage)

Amethyst was bitten by a snake, it's fangs would bite down on the girl's forearm and as it did pain would surge through the girl. She would feel dizzy, it was hard for her to stand almost immediately and she could feel her heartbeat in her ears.

@Silas Norwood & @Julia Evans

Silas had considered not showing up at all, which would have went about as well as his other option which was to arrive and then disappear as if his absence for the remaining 9.5 hours would go unnoticed. It wouldn't, of course it would not. But with 79 other students, his actual departure would also go unnoticed unless someone called him out on it before he left.

At least his venture deeper into the woods would be during the day, during the month of June when the days were the longest and nights were the shortest,. When the forest was at its weakest.

Silas had been sent to detention because he was in a fight. Did anyone even know or understand what the fight was over? No, not really. It was not like Silas tried to explain himself, if anything they might have embraced the bad boy image he was slowly earning as an almost second year. His concern regarding the shears was misplaced - he already had access to a wand. what he could do with a wand dwarfed whatever he could deign to do with a pair of rusted shears. Gottus Tetanus was really a long-game sort of spell, there were a lot of faster options out there.

Was departure noticed?
Roll: 37 Into the woods unnoticed.

Julia would notice the first year slink off into the woods, away from the actual dangerous things the narrator had intended players to uncover. The Ravenclaw girl had gotten herself detention by being caught out after curfew. Apparently the owlery was only open after the halls were supposed to be empty and the students were supposed to be in their beds or common room, go figure.

The girl had the sort of arrogance numerous other socially inept students seemed to share. They were not going to look for a partner and then approach them. She expected someone to come to her. To engage her because she was valuable enough to be sought, and they, as in the others were not worth seeking. Well, nobody came. Friends found one another. Distant acquaintances and random pairings abounded. “Hey you! Silas, right? Where're you going?”

Silas would eventually draw the duellist girl's attention.

Julia Evans - 25% chance to identify something observing them (Sixth Sense)
Roll: 44 Failed

@Sabrina Lyons & @George Calder

Sabrina had gotten in on the mer-monarchy rumor, like a few other upper-ish classmen. First years were pretty impressionable and as the older students quickly learned, hilarious to mess with. Confusing first years, making them both terrified of the safe parts of Hogwarts and curious about the most dangerous had horrifying consequences. They needed to make an example of people like Sabrina, so when the staff learned about Sabrina's deviancy, the newly-appointed prefect would be attending detention instead of running one.

Sabrina, like several other Hogwarts students made no attempt to find a partner. She waited for someone to come to her, a sort of self-important expectation that others would be drawn to them even if they make no attempt to pull others in. While this was a symptom of hubris, it was effective. A student would approach her, first year Ravenclaw George Calder.

George was taking this in stride, not unlike Sabrina. His crime was not really -that- bad, he had simply snuck into the forbidden forest. He was more a risk to himself than others. While they did not share a house or year, he did know her name. "Hi, Sabrina! Wanna team up?" Straight to the point, no room for misinterpretation.

He took a pair of dragonhide gloves, and cast Scourgify.

George casts Scourgify
Roll: 10 Success

He cleaned the gloves with relative ease.

@Flame Afterglow, @Winter Angelo & @Jun Mayumi Mochizuki

The girl was caught out after curfew. The curfews at Hogwarts were in place for good reason: there were a great many terrors in the night and many of the students, Flame included were woefully unprepared to face whatever might have been waiting them. Werewolves on the full moon, a forest that seems to gain life on the darkest of nights. Creatures that have roamed as far as the black lake, or have escaped from their pens. Other deviant youth, not unlike Miss Afterglow. All perils to her continued survival.

Hopefully this detention will serve as a lesson learned and a crisis averted.

Flame would wander off, an isolationist failing to take the hook and make a friend. But the headmaster would look past his tiny umbrella and frown. No, this would not do. It was too dangerous to exist in Hogwarts alone, never mind walk along the treeline. "Partner up with those two," he called out gesturing vaguely towards Jun Mayumi Mochizuki and

Jun was not happy about the day before her, but she was there and she would have to endure it. There were several familiar faces, but none she deigned worthy of approaching, at least yet. She was caught attempting to make butterbeer in a cauldron in her dorm. The smell of fermentation alone was enough to draw the prefects and house elves, long before the brew would be something worth consuming. But yes, brewing alcohol was very much illegal, her parents would be disappointed if they ever opened their mail.

She needed a partnership, Solomon had no confidence in her survival or competence.

Then there was Winter, she had been caught in Hogsmeade with a fake permission slip. It really did not matter why she was there, be it because she got "lost" as one girl in this gathering claimed, or because she was tethered to the unbreakable laws of "truth or dare." It was not a hard won victory for the law-abiding, the girl stood several inches below that of the students whom were allowed in Hogsmeade. The permission slip was an obvious fake, she never did get those chocolate frogs back to those boys, what a shame.

She was just as socially isolated as the other two. What benefit was there in uniting the three, well there was safety in numbers. There was someone who could at least probably scream for help, identify the remains, tell the story of the fate of the other two. It was not much, but it was better than nothing. And if nothing miraculously does not go wrong, maybe they can just make a new friend.

What Happened?

1. Tina Carilla - pairs up with Dido Bleaklane, breaks away to talk to Angel Dayes. Angel does not join the trio, rather she speaks ominously about the wind.
2. Avery Gray - smells something bad and pairs up with her boyfriend Mikey Forville.
3. Mikey Forville - pairs up with Avery Gray.
4. Angel Dayes - wrote we were indoors, going with delusional; she would smell blood; she was tricked into detention by Cecilia who had provided her with a forged detention slip and they both were caught. She pairs up with Cecilia Merrick, when approached by Tina to join their group she simply speaks ominously about the wind and the starts to use Scourgify to... clean the grounds? She further hand-pulls/cuts some of the weeds. She is by extension paired with Charlotte Winfield.
5. Zach Zaphiere - pairs up with Rosaline Everhart, Damien Dragonclaw and Mamori Anezaki
6. Dahlia Lee - ignoring instructions, looking for no partner and cleaning nothing; she is approached by Della Barfield; hears hissing but does not hear the warning to "run."
7. Mikaela Hendricks - praying to the saints and partnering up with Skylar Blue
8. Isabeau Nevara - pairs up with Reyna Evergreen
9. Nabi Park - pairs up with Winnie Athanatos, notices the knocking sound. Forgets she saw Gideon at the ball. Speaks with Matt Campbell who also asks to pair up. She is enhanced by Winnie Athanatos' Paragon of Health (+10% HP). She is provided with Matthew Campbell's Calming Presence. Evelynn Decipio & Marshall Mozor join up with the group.
10. Livia Machavariani - pairs up with Camille De Varenne and hates fashion. Scourgified her gloves.
11. Laasya Manjunath - pairs up with Harumi Everdane.
12. Damien Dragonclaw - pairs up with Zach Zaphiere and Rosaline Everhart; was conned by Mamori Anezaki (reason for detention), who invited himself to the growing gaggle.
13. Dido Bleaklane - pairs up with Tina Carille; had an emotional reaction to Tina talking to others. Cast Reparo on her dragonhide gloves, she was critically successful.
14. Logan Baird - pairs up with Remy Break, but he rejects her and decides to do nothing.
15. Sebastian Cain Knox - pairs up with Blair Annabelle Du Pont; does not understand the snake, it is just hissing loudly.
16. Blair Annabelle Du Pont - pairs up with Sebastian Cain Knox; a snake says hello.
17. Matthew Campbell - speaks with Nabi Park, learned something concerning in the restricted section. He is by extension paired up with Winnie Athanatos. He provides both Nabi and Winnie with his Calming Presence. Evelynn Decipio & Marshall Mozor join up with the group.
18. Reyna Evergreen - pairs up with Isabeau Nevara
19. Andrea Woodburn - pairs up with Robin Lockett
20. Pyxis Hellebore - pairs up with Kaito Foxglove, recognizes something as Kaito clears away the brush
21. Kaito Foxglove - Cleaning up. Pairs up with Pyxis Hellebore, he uncovers some odd-looking mushrooms.
22. Hana Suzuki - pairs up with Jada Blake
23. Robin Lockett - pairs up with Andrea Woodsburn
24. Camille De Varenne - pairs up with Livia Machavariani
25. Richard de Montmorency - pairs up with Skylar Astor
26. Fawkes Chaos - pairs up with Aislin Darragh
27. Cecilia Merrick - pairs up with Angel Dayes and Charlotte Winfield
28. Jada Blake - pairs up with Hana Suzuki
29. Mamori Anezaki - pairs up with Damein Dragonclaw, Rosaline Everhart and Zach Zaphiere
    Remy Break - rejects pairing up with Logan, flips off the headmaster and then gets strung up by his ankles - Levicorpus (Dangling Jinx).
30. Skylar Astor - pairs up with Richard de Montmorency, discovers a small cairn of blackened stone.
31. Della Barfield - pairs up with Dahlia Lee; is told to run by a voice.
32. Lauren Vanes - pairs up with Rosalyn Willows; she overhears the warning to Della to run but this is not very close to her.
33. Aislin Darragh - pairs up with Fawkes Chaos
34. Winnie Athanatos - pairs up with Nabi Park, feels that Matthew Campbell is trying to steal her detention buddy. Provides a Paragon of Health boost to Evelynn Decipio and Nabi Park. She is provided with Matthew Campbell's Calming Presence. Evelynn Decipio & Marshall Mozor join up with the group.
35. Evelynn Decipio - She is enhanced by Winnie Athanatos' Paragon of Health (+10% HP). She pairs up with Matthew Campbell, Nabi Park and Winnie Athanatos. Marshal Mozor joins up with the group.
36. Tatiana Contraire - pairs up with Opeila Vanderbilt
37. Avery Abernathy - arrived, she as a bad feeling. She pairs up with Paul Turner.
38. Opeila Vanderbilt - pairs up with Tatiana Contraire; as she works the earth, she finds some strange mushrooms.
39. Lindsey Springhall - pairs up with Crystal Theodora
40. Crystal Theodora - pairs up with Lindsey Springhall; found a broken rune along the boundary.
41. Paul Turner - pairs up with Avery Abernathy. Paul discovered a broken ward under some brush after successfully casting Wingardium Leviosa.
42. Costanza Jewelweed - partners with nobody, provides the benefit of her Paragon of Health to Kaito Foxglove and Jessamine Hemlock. She starts clearing the brush on her own, until Jessamine Hemlock pairs up with her; Costanza has a vision (Seer).
43. Harvey Barrows - pairs up with Harvey Barrows
44. Denise Yarbrough - pairs up with Harvey Barrows
45. Archer Duncan - arrived, wandering off on his own, he is eventually found by and paired up with Prat Pass
46. Rosalyn Willows - pairs up with Lauren Vanes
47. Lyanna Oak - pairs up with Valour Argentum
48. Erast Yan - arrived, spoke to several students including Cecilia Merrick, Leo Noxley, Rosaline Everhart, and Angel Dayes. Pairs up with Leo Noxley.
49. Leo Noxley - paired up with Erast Yan; he would find a stack of black stones.
50. Ebony Vetra - paired with Colin McCoire
51. Elisa Shakestra - pairs up with Amethyst Castillo
52. Prat Pass - pairs up with Archer Duncan
53. Charlotte Winfield - pairs up with Cecilia Merrick and by extension Angel Dayes
54. Harumi Everdane - pairs up with Laasya Manjunath
55. Jessamine Hemlock - pairs up with Costanza Jewelweed; benefitted by Costanza's Paragon of Health. Charmer and wampus wandmaker opponents are defined as all except hogwarts staff and students. Health: 800 [+80 Paragon] [-100 Infestation] 780
56. Valour Argentum - pairs up with Lyanna Oak
57. Colin McCoire - pairs up with Ebony Vetra, smells both blood and Darkest Night.
58. Silas Norwood - does not attempt to pair up with anyone, attempts to sneak off into the woods. Does so unnoticed by Lear, but noticed by Julia who attempts to follow and call out to him.
59. Julia Evans - goes after Silas
60. Marshal Mozor - Charmer is affecting all outside detention group as well as Nabi Park (Evelynn Decipio, Winnie Athanatos, Matthew Campbell)
61. Amethyst Castillo - pairs up with Elisa Shakestra; bitten by a snake, suffering from disadvantage from poisoning. Health 800 [-150] 650
62. Sabrina Lyons - pairs up with George Calder
63. George Calder - pairs up with Sabrina Lyons; cast Scourgify on his gloves, they are now clean.
64. Flame Afterglow - pairs up with Jun Mayumi Mochizuki and Winter Angelo
65. Jun Mayumi Mochizuki - pairs up with Flame Afterglow and Winter Angelo
66. Ara Villa - pairs up with Linda Ramirez
67. Linda Ramirez - pairs up with Ara Villa
68. Winter Angelo - pairs up with Jun Mayumi Mochizuki and Flame Afterglow

When did the world flip upside down! No one told him that would happen in Astronomy!

He turned his head towards Solomon and grumbled. That son of a biscuit was responsible for this. He had to be. He was minding his own business, and now his ankles had to betray him and dangle him in the air like he was one of those puny and pathetic first years he was about to stuff into the watery porcelain throne.

Remy let out a bark of surprise addressed towards the headmaster. "WHAT HELL? PUT ME DOWN YOU WORM!" It was not a very creative insult. Blood rushed to his head instantly and his face turned a multitude of shades of red. His shirt slid down towards his shoulders and his pockets spat out another student's wand, the teeth belonging to the kid he slammed his fist into, and a semi-large lock that he had full intentions to use for throwing at someone later.

He swung every which way, trying to punch whatever he could to get this dangling thing to stop. "THIS NOT LEGAL! LET ME DOWN! I GONNA-" He didn't finish the sentence because his eyes caught Logan again. Fine. If he had to slave away and pretend the headmaster did not just lecture him, then he was going to get the worst of the current Bairds, someone his brother (Elmo) knew more about.

He hollered at Logan. "COME HERE!" His voice felt kind of strong with the pressure pressing against his eyes and temple. "ME WORK WITH YOU. YOU WORK WITH ME." He hesitated, but surely he had to add an incentive. "I no hurt you?"

A very generous offer actually. But he growled at Lear. "LOGAN HELP ME NOW PUT ME DOWN." His wand was left back in his bedroom, but he was more than willing to try and cast things with someone else's wand if fate permitted. But first he needed to be let down from this evil trap the royal king had put him into.

@Solomon Lear | @Logan Baird
Partnering with Logan Baird
Race and Abilities - Part Giant Year 1 (Giant Language, Unskilled Caster (crit fail 15% spellcasting), +30% physical damage, -20% damage taken)
Stats - Sta 3 | Eva 10 | Str 7 | Wis 0 | Arc 0 | Acc 10
Spells and Potions - Pretty much all of y1 spells except for charms as of this post.
(For papertrail I owled @Harvey Barrow and @Denise Yarbrough asking if they wanted to partner along.- further papertrail, both agreed! Partnership has expanded into a mini team!)

Plot hook: Archer is probably drawing some amount of attention to himself | Archer is open to interactions

Even as Archer busied himself with work, efficient or lackadaisical, his mind wandered, and so did his eyes. Charlotte Winfield. Archer had seen the nasty bruise that crossed her cheek; he doubted she would want to see him just yet. He made down a mental note to buy the the ingredients bruise removal paste and brew her a jar. Cecilia Merrick. Partnered to Charlotte Winfield — they had enjoyed a brief interaction that stemmed from her dares. She had potential, Archer decided. They scanned the periphery again. Valour Argentum. A coconspirator above all; it was almost a betrayal that they decided not to serve in detention together. He surveyed her briefly, unlingering. Lyanna Oak. Partnered to Valour Argentum — he did not know much about her, but if Regent decided she had it in him, it was a given. Finally, they landed on someone he was not quite ready to approach, yet would jump to help in an instant. Matthew Campbell. Even if he was not already surrounded by other students, he did not seem like quite a viable option. He was either insane or hungover. Wondrous. Archer was not quite certain whether he ought to host an intervention or a burglary.

It was, however, someone else that would be his salvation from a day of manual labour.

Archer Duncan was not, by any semblance of the word, ashamed to admit that Prat Pass was, once again, his saviour. From societal gatherings to underground sleepovers, from duelling mishaps to faux pas occurrences, the confidence, swagger, and sheer audacity of his closest friend had proved its utility more than once. So it came to no surprise that Prat found his way to where Archer sorted away at the debris, and no surprise either that his only greeting was a curiosity fuelled by familiarity. What had he done to get here?

“What do you think?” Archer shot back good-naturedly. He dropped the work in his hands, and stood from his position of knelt indifference. He rubbed his palms carelessly on the sides of his shirt, leaving smudges of dirt along the brown that did not quite concern him. Instead, he simply grinned — it was not difficult to guess what brought Prat to this similar predicament, and possibilities were already causing a ruckus among his mind. There was no way they had caught him for the worse of his crimes. A detention like such would not have sufficed.

“Well I sneaked off into the Forbidden Forest — again. Except I had my invisibility cloak this time and somehow, some bitch still caught me.” Archer groaned and rolled his eyes, empathising his distaste with a stress on the profanity. Halfheartedly he gave the branch in front of him a kick — surely there ought to be more efficient methods, simply none crossed his mind just yet. Then, he turned towards his dorm mate, and a look of inquisition too crossed his face, mirroring the curiosity poised on Prat’s features. “What about you? What did you do?”

Before Archer could quite process Prat’s answer, which he would later accept with a small smirk, positioned close to the edges of the tree line, Archer’s ears caught more than just the unseasonably cool breeze. A high pitch rose just to his right, and while it would have bled into the rest of the noise, a familiar name snagged his attention. Turning with deliberate slowness, his scrutiny fell on a girl still within pre-teen hood. She, however, was of no interest to him as Archer’s eyes searched for the subject of her speech. When they landed on the boy, his lips tugged up in subtlety. “Speaking of the Forbidden Forest… attends ici.”

“Hey Silas!” He called out, then lowered his voice as he offered a glance in the Headmaster’s direction. He seemed to not have noticed. Good. A few swift strides brought him to Silas’ side. It had not been difficult to find him. All he needed to do was search for the one who looked the most like an Azkaban prisoner. His words rang out clearly, but they held no antipathy. He would describe their relationship as carrying no animosity, and while the thought of an overthrow often crossed his mind, he still found his editor in chief mildly endearing. “What are you doing, all the way over here?”

Once he would receive an answer, Archer would shrug. The question was more so rhetorical, anyways. He did not bother asking what he could have done to get himself into such a quagmire, but knowing Silas Norwood, just breathing could have been a reason. A mischievous smile distorted Archer’s features as he leaned closer, whispering: “I have a plan. Just watch.”

Then, he would clap him on the back and take a few steps away, “Anyways, stay safe, my friend.” Just before he left the edges of the woods he had trespassed into, however, he threw one final reminder behind his back. His tone was amicable, yet it was evident his next actions would not quite fit the social conventions they both despised. “Oh, and, you might you want to leave the forest before it spreads.” He offered Silas one final, private wink that spoke more volumes that words ever could have. Archer Duncan was scheming something.

Slipping back to Prat’s side he retrieved his wand from an inner pocket, pointing it towards the destroyed edges of the trees, where timber awaited to be cleared. Where fuel awaited for starving blaze. Archer was not foolish enough to start a forest fire. It would be a controlled flame, with an extinguishing charm hefted. But it would be a flame nevertheless, partly attributed to his impatience, partly attributed to his destructive instincts. Was it recklessness that seized him, or something more, or something less? Perhaps he was just a rebellious boy, seeking for an alternative method to complete this detention, and to speed up the process with unconventional means. Perhaps it was something else entirely. Perhaps it was nothing at all. Just careless.

If they were doing free labour, at least be fucking efficient about it.

“Incendio Tria.”

Translation: wait here.

Moderation Notes
Action: casting Incendio Tria
stamina. 10 | evasion. 8 | strength. 1 | wisdom. 9 | arcpower. 9 | accuracy. 11

Tagging: @Prat Pass @Silas Norwood
Other Mentions: @Cecilia Merrick @Matthew Campbell @Valour Argentum @Lyanna Oak @Charlotte Winfield

banner by Adeline Spinks

<sub>One should know, Angel was pretty much aware that she was in fact outside she was simply cross and not having it. But a few hours wouldn't hurt and she got used to it. Cecilia Merrick and Charlotte Winfield were people she had to. Angel to her surprise smelled blood. Never ever had she thought of that to be in her to do list. Why? This made her stomach churned. Being Dhampir she might as well put her good senses to use. Charlotte looked older, and pheraps she can be some sort of leader, yet she can only hope so much as she did not know anyone and knew it was too soon to guess.
Pheraps what was best is to get to know more about her two partners for this detention. A lot of students had detested this, but for Angel it was lovely.

The weeds were pulled out and the ground was proven to be more delightful. However Angel planned to be much more careful in these grounds anything can happen.

"Ilia, Charlotte did you see anything? How is everything right now? I think everyone is trying to get the grounds nice again. Some are still salty about this. But I think we should keep our heads high as always." she said lightly

Many familiar faces. Angel wished she could have a talk but she wouldn't be so credulous just yet. Anything can happened and knowing the students here they seem to enjoy thrill that it become disordered or chaotic. Angel knew better now.

“Incendio Tria.”

Angel turning around, someone decided to burn this place to flames. Intrigued really she decided to go up to who looked like a boy and much older with a more tensed and angry look. The others might've noticed too. Although unsure if he was just jesting. He might've not have his wand out anyway just trying to get attention.

"Are you planning to burn the place?" she said in a warm light tone</sub>