Final Reasoning PV Oliver Thorn Finished

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Oliver was far more accustomed to the grounds cloaked in the night, than bathing in daylight. The thick, oppressive darkness of those evenings limited his vision to only a few meters ahead, his only light source those nights were the lamps, the light they carried to the Shrieking Shack. Yes, the Werewolves of Hogwarts and their monthly expeditions—a grim, painful ritual he could never forget.

Now, standing in the same patch of grass, this time his pale, ghastly figure baking in the sun, he couldn’t shake the unsettling memories that clung to the grass, the trees, the path. But to fear even the grounds of Hogwarts? That, he knew, was foolish.

His chest expanded and contracted slowly, letting the soft wind brush past him, lifting up his pitch-black robes and swaying his yellow knitted scarf. It was a practice he started only recently, adjusting himself to seeing this school as more then some constant challenge he must face, the challenge to hide his condition, the challenge of keeping ahead of all his classes, fighting against the urge to sleep, rest, and forget it all, letting the days wash past him, he let it happen last year, and look where he is now, the exact same place, the same year, his laziness had only provoked him to stay here even longer, even standing in some parts of the school grounds haunted his mind and pumped his blood.

Oliver had enough of today, he finally managed to drag himself to this section of the school grounds, and even meditate, even just for a short moment, it was progress. Nagging at himself internally to come back tomorrow, try even harder, keep this pattern up and his life at Hogwarts will become more... normal.

"Nice one Oliver!" He exclaimed just under his breath, whispering to himself, clenching his fist in victory, like he had won some tense battle, or ace'd a final exam.

The walk back up to the castle was filled with happy thoughts, an enthusiastic hope in conquering the many places he grew to now shudder at, to dislike out of poor memories and reminders of who he was. Those fears will all soon melt away, Oliver knew it for certain, some day, even, he will be able to look up at the moon with a smile, once again. That thought alone filled him with a quiet strength, quickening his pace, eager for the day he would finally be free of the fears that had long held him captive.

His circling train of happy thoughts and hopes soon came to an abrupt hult, cut off by the sharp whirring of spells slicing through the air and a series of frustrated grunts. Oliver paused mid-step, his near-skip up the hill replaced by a stationary halt, twisting his head, Oliver squinted his eyes, peering down the side of the hill that he was currently climbing up to the Courtyard, a witch stood there, one Oliver could faintly recall. She was in his year, yes, a 2nd Year like Oliver. His memory was blurry, but as he watched the witch throw an assortment of red and green sparks through the air, his memory sharpened as she flicked her wand with increasing irritation, sending erratic bursts of red and green sparks shooting into the sky. Her face was scrunched in concentration, and Oliver’s curiosity grew as he took a hesitant step closer, wondering what on earth could have her so riled up.

In rare spirits, Oliver found himself approaching someone first, raising his hand in a friendly wave as he made his way down the hill. A warm smile softened his typically sickly features, his pulpy baggy eyes, his cold, pale cheeks, and skinny anatomy. Oliver drew closer to his classmate, who seemed utterly unaware of his presence. She was too focused, eyes narrowed at some unseen opponent, hurling spells into the empty space with intense concentration. Oliver’s curiosity piqued—training for what, exactly?

“Are you part of the duelling team? Or something?” he called, lifting his voice just enough to carry over her frustrated grunts, the pitched sound of constant flying spells, and the sound of fluttering robes in her animated wand gestures. A drop of concern washed over Oliver's face, wondering how someone could be so heated, so angry.

Reducio

No need to apologise for the late starter, it wasn't really that late

November 10th 2024
Speech: #cfa120
Thoughts: Italics
"Duelling"... Yeah, That's It... With @Oliver Thorn

Amidst her determined casting - which soon bordered on fury as time passed - Emily stopped abruptly when a fellow Huffie came into view, calling out to her. By the time Emily registered the boy's presence, the pent up adrenaline slowly filtered out of her system. Her wrist tensed and her hand shivered a little from gripping the wand a bit too hard. She wiped a bead of sweat from her forehead with the back of her other hand and chuckled tiredly.

"Yeah... Not long on the team, actually. I only had my first match a couple weeks back." It still amazed her how she was even considered for the team, let alone became an active member on it. She was a tree hugger, not a spell slinger. She put her wand away in case her fingers decided to twitch too hard and cast blindly. She walked over to the Hufflepuff boy; understandably, he seemed a bit taken aback by Emily's heated stupor. That certainly didn't fit the description Emily was known for. He also looked familiar, though at the same time, not really. She must have seen him in passing a few times if she wasn't thinking who this stranger was. Then again, she could say that about half of Hufflepuff in general. She belittled inwards to herself - she needed more Hufflepuff friends, and she was already in Second Year!

Back to the social interaction at hand, however...

"I guess I still need a bit more practice," she smiled sheepishly, as if thinking that was enough to dispel any suspicion on the boy's face. "I got pretty lucky during my first duel, though I'm quite sure Lady Luck won't give me her blessing forever."

Her smile slowly faded. Although she wasn't necessarily lying to the lad, there was still another reason that she was regrettably keeping from him. At the same time, given the recent revelations brought up and circling around the school - between werewolf students, teachers and the whole Halfbreed debate in general - maybe she was better off withholding the fact that she needed practice for more than just blocking a Flipendo or two during a moderated school event.

"Besides, a little practice never hurts anyone," she said, trying to hide her lace of worry behind her usual upbeat persona. "In a world like this, it should always be in someone's interest to prepare for the worst."

No matter who or what it is.

That immediately brought back everything Emily had to put up with on the run-up to where she was now. Hogwarts events turned upside down by unwanted "guests," students fighting tooth and nail against them and each other... Though even if her excursion didn't go according to plan, she would still be doing that small percentage more than what other people appear to be doing - that is, not trying to snuff each other out because of some angry follies.

She breathed out gently when she rested against a tree. Once again, Mother Nature was ailing her troubles and anxiety, already relieving the heaving tension in her torso. She only prayed she'd come to her rescue if things went south for when the inevitable journey came.

"Sometimes I think the world's gone beyond mad..." She said quietly, more to herself than she did to him.

_{Word Count: 620}

For The Know-How (Le Plot)
@Scout Fu-Hai - @AngelFyre McCubbin -@ Ruby Night - @Danielle Alden - @Renelle Dalton - @Simon Kincaid - @Colin McCoire - @Ophelia Northwell - @Ava Winchect - @Eugenia Karageorgiadi

Stats: Stamina: 7|Evasion: 6|Strength: 6|Wisdom: 8|Arcane Power: 7|Accuracy: 6
Abilities: Non-Human Enthusiast |Cat's Grace

─────
Oliver seemed spot-on with his geuss, a confident grin tugged at his face, keeping eye-contact with the girl, she talked positively about her first duel, Oliver never took time out of his day to watch the event's of the Duelling Club, or any spare use of that room, happening. He was completely in the dark when he came to the sport of duelling at Hogwarts. But Quidditch? Now that was a subject he could go on about for hours. There was no study Oliver was more devoted to then what transpired on the Quidditch field. His grin widened as he thought of it, his teeth showing in a rare, enthusiastic smile that contrasted with the exhaustion etched across his face.

But that smile soon faded, mirroring the girl's own sudden change in expression. her face seemed to drop as she hung onto her next few words, she seemed to be in her head, her gaze unfocused, as though lost in a memory she’d rather avoid. Oliver knew the expression all too well—the distant, haunted stare he himself wore when terrible moments crept into his thoughts, nearly all a domino effect of his Lycanthropy. A flicker of empathy softened his features, and he hesitantly leaning forward slightly, now watching her with quiet, concentrated eyes.

Before Oliver could even lift his arm, the girl’s smile snapped back into place—a bit too bright, like a mechanical toy winding itself up again. "Besides, a little practice never hurts anyone," she exclaimed, her tone suddenly high-pitched and cheerful. The constant shifts in her demeanour kept Oliver on edge, watching her with a puzzled expression. But her next words had a weight to them, a grounded honesty he could recognise. "In a world like this, it should always be in someone's interest to prepare for the worst."

Oliver only nodded, exhaling slowly as he let the words sink in. The sudden shifts in the girl’s demeanour reminded him of himself. It was like looking into a mirror. He could remember the days when he too put on happy smiles and vague expressions to hide the curse under his skin, hiding the grim thoughts and haunted memories that constantly plagued him. He had done it to make himself seem normal, to shield the world from his true condition, to appear less broody than the sickly features let others to believe. But what about her? What was this girl hiding so tightly to herself that it struck him so deeply?

The girl swayed over to a nearby tree, her steps slow and deliberate, as if she were carrying a weight too heavy for her frame. She leaned against the trunk, resting her head lightly on it, her breath coming in steady, deep pulls. Her expression was solemn, distant—like she was lost in a world of her own. It reminded Oliver of the moments he had just passed through himself, alone in that patch of grass, reliving those nights. She muttered something under her breath, words barely audible, like she was speaking more to herself than to him, the conversation forgotten or abandoned. "Sometimes I think the world's gone beyond mad...".

The words carried softly to Oliver, resonating within him. It was as if his body responded before his mind had a chance to catch up. Without thinking, he found himself walking towards the same tree, drawn by the quiet, familiar solace she sought beneath its branches. He stopped a few paces away, his eyes lingering on her, watching her steady breaths as she calmed herself. It felt like he knew exactly what she was going through.

His lips parted, the words slipping out before he could stop them.

"I'm Oliver, by the way." He raised his arm in a flowing manner, "Oliver Thorn. I believe we are in the same House?"

The Hufflepuff needed to know more, his uncontrolled, robotic movements had charged him into this scenario, the need to uncover what his classmate was hiding. It wasn't just curiosity anymore—this felt personal. She was hiding something, and it felt too familiar to ignore. His instincts were pushing him forward, the need to uncover what was behind her carefully composed facade, pulling him in.

"Sometimes I think like that too, but just my world. You talked quite well of Lady Luck... I wish she'd ever give me her blessing." Oliver jested with a light-hearted grin. A quick attempt to help her cheer up.

November 10th 2024
Speech: #cfa120
Thoughts: Italics
Huffies Can Only Understand With @Oliver Thorn

God help anyone who wandered into the sight of seeing the Shephard lass so completely riled up that she was barely able to keep herself talking without a small strain to her tone. This poor boy couldn't have come at a more unfortunate time. It was evident on his face he was still slightly taken aback by seeing her initial state; had he'd not taken this sudden conversation with as much positivity as he did, he'd be chatting with an unhappy bunny until either he or Emily would run.

Alas, that worry was dimming quicker and quicker as the fellow Huffie merely stood and listened to Emily ramble on, not at all worried if he heard some, most or none of what she was spilling. Duelling was a cover for her real intentions anyway, as beneficial as it was to practice her spells generally, but she knew she needed the pretence to stop another full debate from sparking between them. This far into her game, she had more than enough of that.

In her emotional exhaustion, she noticed a little bit too late that the lad had joined at her side. The moment her eyes caught on, she straightened up and offered a friendlier, more sincere smile to him. He didn't mean any harm, bless him, and yet Emily was talking her ribbon off about a mish-mash of things that probably made not much sense as she was spilling them. At the same time however, he did have a look on him like he wasn't entirely foreign to the feeling either.

"I'm Oliver, by the way," he introduced. "Oliver Thorn. I believe we are in the same House?"

Emily's smile grew sweeter as she acknowledged his greeting with a nod. Always trust another Huffie to brighten the mood when you're feeling down, Emily believed. "Emily. Emily Shephard. And I too believe we're both in Hufflepuff."

While neither Huffie seemed to be weary of each other, it was clear to Oliver that Emily was being held back. Two years and other than her forest escapades, Emily still couldn't hide a face. She could be read like any of the books she would read in between classes. How cathartic.

"Lady Luck certainly likes to pick her favourites... I feel like a lot of people look for miracles but never seem to get them. Like Half-humans for example..."

It was about time Emily cracked. Even if she despised being berated for her efforts, she still felt the need to keep bringing it up.

"With everything that's gone on recently, I feel like they're not being given any slack. They haven't done anything wrong, yet some people are targeting them like...

She frowned as she cast her glance down to her feet uneasily. "... Like they're freaks, but they're not..."

_{Word Count: 533}

For The Know-How (Le Plot)
@Scout Fu-Hai - @AngelFyre McCubbin -@ Ruby Night - @Danielle Alden - @Renelle Dalton - @Simon Kincaid - @Colin McCoire - @Ophelia Northwell - @Ava Winchect - @Eugenia Karageorgiadi

Stats: Stamina: 7|Evasion: 6|Strength: 6|Wisdom: 8|Arcane Power: 7|Accuracy: 6
Abilities: Non-Human Enthusiast |Cat's Grace

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The fellow Hufflepuff, now introducing herself as "Emily," spoke of Lady Luck, but something in her words struck Oliver. She had mentioned people like him—those who, as he had just joked, didn’t possess luck. "Half-breeds." Though Oliver wasn’t technically a half-breed, he was still human… except for that one night each month, under the full moon, when his permanent curse made him anything but human.

She frowned once again, still reliving bad memories or negative thoughts, but this time Oliver started to get an understand of what it was, and it was far more connected to him than he thought it would be. She was frustrated at the same thing Oliver was, but Oliver seemed to always feel frustrated.

"... Like they're freaks, but they're not..." Emily muttered, eyes fixed on her shoes, nestled in the blades of grass. "Freaks." Oliver couldn’t help but flinch inwardly. He’d heard that word only two days ago, spilling from the mouth of Edwin Westbridge, who’d branded Oliver—and every other werewolf—as such in his usual haughty, superior manner. Just the thought of Edwin's words made Oliver's blood simmer. He had hoped to escape Edwin today, to shake off the sting of that label, but that still recent memory lingered, since that day, piercing deeper than he wanted to admit.

"Why, yes! They haven't done anything wrong!" Oliver in a snap was entranced into this conversation, it mattered so deeply to him now. "I hope one day those people will learn! Some day... They don't have to hide."

Oliver could barely hold back the urge to confess that he, too, was part of this misunderstood minority. Emily seemed like a kind soul—a young witch without arrogance, cunning, or the prideful airs so many others held. Her beliefs, though regrettably rare, felt genuine. She spoke with a conviction that made Oliver feel, for once, as though he were seen, not judged, and did not need to hide.

"Honestly, Emily." Oliver continued with a rough sigh, sharing the same pain Emily feels. "I'd do anything to get others to see.. What we see."

November 10th 2024
Speech: #cfa120
Thoughts: Italics
Brother in Arms with @Oliver Thorn
Mentioning: @Tesla Stone

Ordinarily, this topic would go into one of a few options for Emily. Number one, would be that people would look at her worriedly - "The forest is dangerous," "You shouldn't go in there," "It's not worth it." There's a difference between asking someone to be cautious for something that they know shouldn't be taken lightly, not that Emily ever did. And then there was fearmongering.

Fearmongering itself then branches off into number two; where people overplay fears that either stem from superstition from centuries ago, or don't exist. In Emily's case, the fact that Halfbreeds, regardless of how monstrous or sly or whatever other whiny excuse that came from other people's mouths, a lot of them were absolute sweethearts. Case in point; Scout. And Simon. And Tesla. And probably a lot more names if Emily were to bet her wand on it. Surely these "monsters" would've torn a new one into Emily by now if they were as bad as people said they were.

And then there was number three, superficially similar to number two; hate. Lots and lots of hate. Hate so deep that it bleeds between student relationships, so much so that even fully human students target each other. While half-humans and magical beings were only 1% of that hate, the fact that any of this was happening at all was enough to rub off on Emily - and that alone made her feel sick.

But Oliver. His response. It was like a breath of fresh air. No, bigger than that. It was like an entire ocean wave completely enveloped her. When was the last time someone was in agreement with Emily this confidently? Maybe Scout? It hardly mattered at this point... After fire after fire of being told to stay away, Emily didn't feel alone in that moment. What Oliver just said meant more to her than he could ever realise, and more than what Emily could express.

Her expression sparkled with newfound optimism, a smile stretching from ear to ear on her face. Finally. Finally, someone who seemed to be getting it, without walking on eggshells to avoid lingering haters nearby or merely to massage Emily's optimism insincerely. "I feel the same... Whole heartedly."

"I'd do anything to get others to see.. What we see."

Oliver's tone was unmistakable. It was empathy. It was that insatiable want for change. Normally, Emily would come across people who want change but don't feel brave enough to achieve it. Oliver on the other hand was so far the only one aside from Emily who wanted to see change at the snap of a finger. Emily nodded affirmatively.

"Me too... More than I could begin to explain... Which is why I'm going to do something that will probably make half the school hate me..."

She exhaled bravely. "I'm going to get out there and find a magical creature. No half-human, no quarter-creature... A real, whole magical creature."

_{Word Count: 559}

For The Know-How (Le Plot)
@Scout Fu-Hai - @AngelFyre McCubbin -@ Ruby Night - @Danielle Alden - @Renelle Dalton - @Simon Kincaid - @Colin McCoire - @Ophelia Northwell - @Ava Winchect - @Eugenia Karageorgiadi

Stats: Stamina: 7|Evasion: 6|Strength: 6|Wisdom: 8|Arcane Power: 7|Accuracy: 6
Abilities: Non-Human Enthusiast |Cat's Grace

─────
Oliver's mouth went dry as the realization struck him, why Emily had been slinging spells outside, why she had been looking so aggravated, so mixed, so determined. The 'secret' Oliver had been desperate to uncover now rang loud in his mind, and he immediately regretted learning the truth.

"Now—don't do anything too rash, Emily," he suggested calmly with a dry exhale, the weight of the situation settling in. Oliver knew he was now in a position where he had to talk to her, convince her, calm her down to make her think twice about the path she was about to take. His thoughts translated into words automatically, without hesitation. "A Creature and a Half-breed are two. separate. things."

Oliver lifted his hands up, leaning in with a sense of apprehension, his robes rustling as his shoulders tightened. His mind raced, scrambling for the right words to convince Emily to reconsider. As he spoke, he could feel the weight of his own mistake—the at first peaceful conversation had escalated further than he'd ever intended, it had turned into a plead for her safety.

"Now—when I said I'd do anything, I didn't mean... that!" Oliver murmured, his voice trailing off a just little too commanding. His heart began to race, an uncomfortable tension building in his chest.

"The Forbidden Forest, if that's where you're going..." Oliver's voice faltered as he pictured Emily walking toward the darkness of the woods, naive to the danger lurking within. The thought sent a wave of panic through him. He could already see her stumbling into the heart of the forest, unprepared for the creatures that roamed there, the evil that could swallow her whole.

"Th-the Forbidden Forest is against the school rules, and for very good reason!" His voice grew louder, his worry spilling over as his animated movements reflected his words, his concern now fully manifesting. The reality of the danger she was about to walk into weighed heavily on Oliver's conscience, he couldn't let her go into it, she had to be protected, from herself.

"You can't— you shouldn’t go in there, Emily, Emily—It’s not safe!"

November 10th 2024
Speech: #cfa120
Thoughts: Italics
A Shephard's Sympathy with @Oliver Thorn

Emily was only able to hold up her hopeful expression a few seconds longer before Oliver's next spill of words sunk in, casting her expression into a familiar one. One of disappointment, though not one so strong after hearing the same thing for so long. She knew from the get-go that she shouldn't keep her hopes up so high when it came to this topic of discussion; Oliver wasn't an exception despite the promise that Emily might have finally found someone on the same wavelength as her. Who knows, maybe he still did and was just making sure Emily was aware of her limits - which she did - however, that was all totally dependent on whether or not his optimism and faith was everlasting like hers was. If not, then he was unfortunately going to be categorised with everyone else.

Her lips pursed into a gentle thin line. "I get that you might be worried, but I've been planning this for a long time...! I'm sure there's a million and one reasons why it might be a bad idea but this is all I can think of that will actually do something about this preposterous hate chain going around the school!"

She let out a shaky exhale as she attempted to calm down, but after nearly three months she was already reaching the end of her tether in terms of patience. "I've spent nearly every waking minute outside of class researching as much as I can, trying to figure out what makes magical beings so 'monstrous' and evil." She made air quotes with her fingers. "I'm tired of doing nothing about this blatant tension, of having to listen to students give off about things that are untrue, and having to listen to students that are a little more than human about how unhappy they are just by being themselves...!"

Her refusal to lose her temper in front of a boy that clearly didn't mean any harm had Emily pace about a few feet forward and back in her spot. "Other magical creatures in the wizarding world aren't exempt either. They live by biology. Instinct. The same way vampires have to, or even werewolves... If they truly wanted to hurt humans by unfiltered choice then this world would be far different than what it is now. For example, the land would be completely swarmed with ravenous beasts with no human left in sight."

"Th-the Forbidden Forest is against the school rules, and for very good reason!"

It seems this boy was clever. He caught on like a fish to hook. It was a shame that Emily took it way too personally than she meant to.

"Rules aren't good enough anymore! Rules haven't stopped students trying to kill each other! Rules haven't changed how we safeguard Half-humans! Rules haven't stopped this school from becoming any more safer than it actually is! People have died in Hogsmeade because there are still groups out there who loathe anyone that has a single drop of inhumanity in them... I could've lost my friend that day too!" Casey's injuries would forever scare Emily no matter how much he'd reassure her. A month on and it still frightened her that this was how bad this whole farce had gotten.

Voices began going off in Emily's head again. Scout. Tesla. Evelynn. Rebecca. And it wasn't just them. Fleeting conversations in the wind from the past circled in her head too. Good. Bad. Monsters. Humans. Hate. Acceptance. The words sounded so dull and repetitive at this point. For a while, they would put Emily to sleep but now, they just made her angry and upset. She was frustrated with them.

"You can't— you shouldn’t go in there, Emily, Emily—It’s not safe!"

"This isn't about what's good for me anymore!" Emily imploded, a stress-induced tear in the corner of her eye. "Safe or not, I have to do this. I don't want anyone getting hurt anymore...Not half-humans, not humans... I just want people to start giving a damn!"

She let out another sharp exhale, conviction strung in her face.

"And if an underage, Muggle-born loser like me has to be the one to do it, so be it!"

_{Word Count: 766}

For The Know-How (Le Plot)
@Scout Fu-Hai - @AngelFyre McCubbin -@ Ruby Night - @Danielle Alden - @Renelle Dalton - @Simon Kincaid - @Colin McCoire - @Ophelia Northwell - @Ava Winchect - @Eugenia Karageorgiadi

Stats: Stamina: 7|Evasion: 6|Strength: 6|Wisdom: 8|Arcane Power: 7|Accuracy: 6
Abilities: Non-Human Enthusiast |Cat's Grace

─────
Emily's voice tore through the field, resonating in Oliver's mind like the haunting toll of a bell, her frustration raw and unfiltered: 'I just want people to start giving a damn!' The words slammed into him, dragging his thoughts to the surface—conversations with people like Edwin, the dismissive comments, the whispers of false reports in the papers he’d tried so hard to ignore. Oliver could only imagine the cruel rumours echoed in the halls, the ones Emily spoke so sickened of: "Don't talk to that witch! she's a Metamorphmagus!" or "Fat half-giant!" Oliver could only imagine what Emily had heard, and what Oliver had blocked out, ignorant in his solitude.

Even with his own burdens—endless fatigue, an incurable sickness, and the agony of transformation that reshaped his body in ways no magic could soothe—Oliver had never truly considered the weight others bore. What Emily’s words forced him to see; It wasn’t just him; there was pain in other half-breed lives, a constant cycle of fear and ridicule. The image Emily painted—being hunted like animals—turned Oliver’s stomach. It was vile, deplorable, and it made something deep inside him ache.

Oliver swallowed tightly, trying to articulate everything at once as he closed his eyes. Emily’s voice cut through his thoughts like a blade, startling Oliver's lids back open: And if an underage, Muggle-born loser like me has to be the one to do it, so be it!'

He felt his heart tug in two directions. He understood her anger, her drive for change. Yet, he couldn’t shake his loyalty to the rules, he had never thought of doing something like Emily was going to, even if it felt like a shackle. She was bold, maybe even reckless, but perhaps she had something he lacked—a steel heart of courage to challenge what seemed impossible. The girl honestly could have been a Gryffindor, if it wasn't for her uniform.

Oliver let out a deep, sincere sigh, searching for words that wouldn’t sound like a lecture, or a panic, that might convey he wanted to help her without entirely abandoning his own principles. His voice softened, tinged with hesitation.

"Emily... I can’t... Just stand by and let you dive into danger... maybe there’s a way to do this safely. Or..." Oliver's mind whirled, having thought of his next words, but unsure whether he should say them, it was very unlike Oliver: the proposal he had thought of.

"When." He said in a straight, confident tone. Commanding a serious, honest reply. "When are you going? To the Forbidden Forest, I won't tell a teacher. I promise." Oliver's gaze was intentful and unyielding, the confidence in his voice found in the words he was keeping from her.