There’s a monster!( you’re free to edit and continue)

"Well,", I said, "First we've got to understand the situation. What monster are you talking about? and where is it? We'll call the first teacher we see." The whole thing sounded weird in my head. How on earth was a monster supposed to get in the school in the first place? I was about to ask her when a loud clang echoed from the nearby stairs. We sped to the stairs and looked down at the chaos. A boggart ran around the corridor, terrifying everyone who stood before it. Shouts were heard from the bottom. "This is actually not that bad, it's just a boggart." The students didn't know how to handle it though, and neither did I. Surely, someone knew how to deal with a boggart! We ran to the down the steps to see the Boggart pursuing a pack of second years. "What is that thing!" somebody cried in fright. We managed to hide behind a pillar to avoid being seen. "Do you know what to do?" I asked the girl. Hoping that she knew, maybe we could put a stop to this. We would also earn house points, maybe even an award! We just had to tackle a boggart.

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The castle was a bustle of sound and motion, of driving forces - both academic and social. Even in the late evening, in those hours when the castle should be able to finally exhale, it held his breath.

It was not a late hour. It was simply the evening, the space between the supper meal and slumber. A time defined most often with chatter, curiosity and acts of small rebellion. The children were at that point in their life where they thought they knew who or what they were, but often they were just forcing themselves into a defined role. Never be dull. Never be forgotten. Never be alone.

How did one take a journey of self-discovery with a perennial audience? The answer was: they didn't.

This evening was like any other. Solomon had left his study in search of fresh air, air being defined as an open window where he could savor his cigar and finger of whiskey in peace. Peace being a commodity as precious as time and oil. What the hell was Lesmana doing back here? The former head of house was going to get himself killed if he makes it this easy to target him. He let out a sigh and swirled his uncut drink, he should have poured a second finger, it was not like Nora could stop him. The cold air contrasted the heat he felt run down the back of his throat that settled in his belly.

This was going to be a quiet evening, or so he hoped.

But alas, there was no peace for Solomon Lear. Rather a demand for his attention in a building that housed hundreds. The screams, something about a monster. A claim made by one torn loose from sleep and reason alike. The sharp sound of a prank gone wrong, a nightmare before nightfall. Solomon had turned around before the echo faded.

The headmaster would enter from the balcony, the French doors pushed open from the center. An almost theatrical drama in the motion. The lamps in his office guttered as the middle-aged wizard moved, the sound of his soles scraping stone and the rattle of desperate, fearful claims of a... monster. The shadows seemed to lean towards the mad claim, as if Hogwarts itself was listening.

"There are no monsters here," Solomon proclaimed when he spied two small students. He did not recognize either, not first year students whom have just begun their journey. "Just creatures that..." he paused as if he was searching for a truth simple enough to instill calm but not stupidity. "Those that do not understand you any better than you understand them."

This was after all Hogwarts. A school that breathed magic, power and potential for those that accept the call to learn, to excel and ultimately to achieve the pinnacle of wizarding accomplishment. "Whatever it is you believe," his pale eyes flicked to the one making the claim of a monster, "or fear has defined for you... is just that, a resident and a guest like yourself." He never claimed that whatever the girl saw, if she saw it at all was 'safe.'