Locking The Doors Main Story Closed

RAVENCLAWS OPEN TO INTERACTIONS

Interacting with @Dymphna Teague | @Bloom Silverton

She sat tall, her fingers intertwined, as the professors filled them all in on the year’s events. Phaedra couldn’t help but shake her head. “Lear is temporarily unavailable due to pressing personal matters?“ Yeah, right. How personal? Was there a death in his family? A part of her hoped it was true and that ‘personal matters’ meant something relatively normal, but if that were the case, why wasn’t it confirmed earlier? Lear hasn’t been around in months with no public acknowledgment until now; the Headliner wrote all about it and it wasn’t hard to notice. Frankly, the prefect found it hard to believe, but she couldn’t ponder it for long because the professors quickly changed subject to dhampirs. At least that problem was finally being handled.

The adults eventually dispersed for dinner. Phaedra was sitting with her fellow Ravenclaws, and besides her closest friend, Dymphna Teague. While it felt everything was falling apart, at least she had some familiarity to keep her going. Another third-year, Bloom Silverton, turned to them for conversation. The news of the night had gotten most people riled up, it seemed. Phaedra nodded after Bloom spoke, in full agreement. “Yeah, I don’t know, Dymphna. Don’t get your hopes up.”

In an act so unlike herself, Phaedra had purposely thrown herself into danger that night. She knew to enter the Forbidden Forest was foolish, but that was precisely why she had done it—perhaps if she could act out, invent some excuse for following another student and make a point to her parents that the castle wasn’t safe, it would finally convince them she needed withdrawal. Having her pleas go ignored for so long tended to draw up wild plans within her mind. Though this time, it didn’t work, and now she was in the same place as before. It was hard to stomach her parents preferring whatever they were up to over their daughter. What was so important that she couldn’t come home?

The way Professor Caradoc spoke had reminded her of her father, in the rare instances he’d risen his voice at her. He was not a man easy to anger and neither any of the Heads of Houses. She was to be an exemplary student, but yet had her hand in contributing to the harsher consequences they were now under. If there was any guilt over what she had done, she did not show it, poking with her fork at the food before her. “What a time for you to return to school, huh? Do you still feel it was the right decision?” She cut a slice of turkey with her knife and plopped it into her mouth.

It was a strange sensation. Staring at something so intently, it makes you feel like you'll dissapear right then and there. Things in her peripheral vision were quite hard to see. Actually, she didn't want to see anything around her. Nor did she want to interact with anyone. Not really. Who would want to talk to her anyway? The others probably saw her as a student version of a Professor. It was ridiculous.
She nearly jumped out of her skin, however, when a rather loud student suddenly yelled at the direction of the Professors. Even clanging a ... on the floor before he stormed out. What was up with him? She didn't get a chance to have a good look at him, he was gone before she could. Odd...

"Hey Nico,"

Again, she nearly jumped out of her skin, hitting her knee against the downside of the table. 'A-tch..' Pinching her eyes closed, as she rubbed her knee, Nico carefully looked over at the one who adressed her. Kara. The dhampir let out a soft sigh, one of relief. 'Hey Kara...' She said in a quiet tone. It was close to a whisper, but still loud enough for Kara to hear her clearly. Nico never talked much with the girl. Not that she felt the need to. With a nod, the prefect let her know that, indeed, alot of things had made her lose her once amazing appetite. The spiders in the common room, the encounter in the abandoned bathrooms, the fricking 1 am party... Nico could still sense a tingling feeling in her leg. A ghost of the spiderlegs that once crawled over her.

The dhampir didn't feel any energy to talk with Kara. But she appreciated nonetheless. Each small spark of kindness, which seemed sincere, could make her feel a little better. 'That's... kind of you. But I'll be fine.' That was a lie. Not that the other Slytherin girl had to worry about that. The dhampir just needed time. Mustering everything she had in her body, the redhead let her hands go off her painful knee and gently picked up a fork. What looked like chicken, she cut off a small piece to quietly chew on.

Interacting with @Kara Capricorn | Mentions Howard White | open to Slytherin interactions

Ileen had randomly chosen a place at the Slytherin table without paying much attention to her classmates. With a motionless expression on her face, she listened to the Head of Houses as they were enumerating the events and the rules that resulted from them.
She blinked. Wow. That was a good summary of all the awful things that had happened this year so far. Interesting how much Ileen missed by staying away from rumors and out of the affairs of others. Of course, she had heard about these things, sometimes more, sometimes less, and that the threat was real had been proven by the ball and… a few other events.
She frowned and watched her Head of House closely as she spoke. The situation was serious and although the previous rules did not bother Ileen any further, she started to feel uncomfortable.

When Professor Jensen announced, that summer boarding was canceled, the young Slytherin wasn’t the only one who startled. Her heart sank. Fair enough, all these restrictions sounded reasonable – but she had planned not to go home. She didn’t want to go home. Especially since there was no real home to return to anyways. An icy fist clenched in her stomach and she had to swallow violently.
Although she was still very young, she knew that her problem was relatively insignificant, but for her it was still a tough one. At least there would be a summer camp – so she had a few more weeks before she would have to deal with her parents. She would participate in this, even if it was not interested in quidditch – so far, so good.

At the end of the announcement, Ileen sighed. Well, she never had felt the urge to sneak into the forest anyways. The only part where she had to change her behavior was her morning routine. Since she normally woke up around 6am and used to go outside to watch the sun rising, all she had to change was to wait a bit longer. For the parties in the Common Rooms… There was no chance she would every join a party, so…
In her childish naivety she could not understand why ambush, violence and war had to rule everywhere and always. It was awful. Why couldn't everyone be left in peace? It would make life easier. There was always something evil, waiting for you, to take you by surprise and get you down.
With a sinister expression on her face she filled her plate and started eating without really tasting the food.

@Percival Rainwood

Due to the fact that Jack had a thing about an equal exchange of information, if Santario had asked for his name, he would have given it. However, as she hadn't, he presumed that she, as a former reporter and writer for the headliner as well as a fellow first year Slytherin, would have already been aware of his name. They had just spent a whole school year together, after all.

Furthermore, Jack, along with many of his fellow dorm mates, was already familiar with the names of the majority of Slytherins if not the majority of all first years or even all the residents at Hogwarts with whom they had lived for the past year. Thus, he has thought most others would have known said names by that point in time as well.

The assumption that the redheaded first year might have been trying to turn the noirette against the one she called 'Reaper' might have been as unfounded and laughable to Jack as the assumption that he had been referring to Santario being too nosy in regard to Thomas' affairs. As he was not a Legilimens, however, such assumptions remained unknown to him while divided his attention between his own meal and the more familiar Slytherin students.

One such student was the Japanese boy who hadn't showed up in the Great Hall to eat with the rest of his housemates for the past several months. Jack's solemn face split with a small smile as Selim sat himself beside his contractual partner.

"Fangs. Glad you could make it," the redhead told him with less enthusiasm than he normally might have used. The fact that the Great Hall dinner had been mandatory, however, both made it difficult to tell whether the other boy had come of his own free will and also suggested a certain foreboding. Jack was a little tense about both.

He watched Selim carefully as he listened to the Heads of Houses speak, fighting the urge to ask the noiret to put away his dagger. The Welsh boy was glad his dorm mate seemed more himself than he had since March, but he also worried about how the rest of the staff and their schoolmates might have reacted to a kid playing with a knife after so many dangerous events had occurred as of late. It was almost like he was taunting people to label him a hazard.

Fortunately, Selim stopped fiddling with the sharp muggle weapon once the announcement started. It was a good thing, too, since they seemed to consist mostly of the House Heads berating their Hogwarts students for being so careless. Selim's toying with his blade would have been a perfect example if they had seen him with it and chosen to point it out.

As pleased as Jack was that the amber-eyed boy appeared to pay careful attention to the Heads of Houses, when his gaze remained unfocused after, his hazel-eyed companion began to worry again. Regardless of how much he had improved, he still didn't seem completely right in the head. In fact, Jack couldn't have been sure that Selim was any better off than he had been before; only that he seemed to be. Who really knew, though? He was no doctor; no psychiatrist or psychologist.

Their attention was both drawn to the Hufflepuff table at the boy who seemed to throw a tantrum of sorts. A third year. Jack had never met him, but he had heard rumors about who he was.

"Howard White. Apparently close to Thomas LeStrange," he told Selim discreetly, taking a sip of pumpkin juice. He said nothing more, but he hoped his dorm mate was lucid and clever enough to read between his spoken lines.

Don't even think about it. He's with Thomas. Thomas, the boy you accompanied to perform a 'mission' with at the ball.

Whether he understood Jack's indirect message or was simply able to exercise enough self-control, however, Selim thankfully seemed to shift his attention elsewhere.

Soon after, the snake spoke as if to himself. Jack almost choked on his juice upon hearing the words, quickly grabbing a napkin to dab at his robes.

"Isn't that what you did before?" he whispered with a small smile once he could breath properly again.

Selim was reminding him more and more of a pet cat who had just gone through surgery. On one hand, Jack was relieved the cat was no longer acting sick, but on the other hand, it was acting strange in different ways and he wasn't sure how much of it was due to the drugs necessary for it to recover. Only time would tell if the side effects would be permanent or not. In the meantime, all he could do was observe and wait.

If the raven-haired boy was talking about earlier curfew being challenging, Jack took it as a good sign because he hoped it meant Selim was going to try to keep to it. The redhead thought it was a good thing that the snake at least tried to sleep now, even if wasn't all that well yet. Still, it beat him staying up all night in the common room hoping to avoid getting caught being up past curfew, especially now that the new rules were going to be enforced with the threat of expulsion. More time with his family seemed like the last thing the Japanese boy needed.

Still, though, Selim would not eat. Jack caught him staring at a man sitting with the Heads of Houses - a fellow he had heard was supposed to be the Headmaster of Ilvermorny, a North American wizarding school - for a bit too long and his concerned started acting up all over again. Jack was almost to the point where he was about to ask Selim if he needed to step out of the hall for a bit when his peer's rapid breathing finally calmed.

What was going through his mind? Had he calmed himself? Well...that was good, right?

Again, the part of Jack that fretted constantly over his contractual partner wanted to speak up, but he forced himself to hold his tongue. If Selim was learning to regain his own self-control, he needed to do so without being babied every step of the way or else Jack would only slow his progress if not hinder it completely. He had to trust Selim; at least for this much. His mind was not really a realm Jack had much sway over anyway.

Doing his best to get his own mind off his worries regarding the Japanese boy, the redhead transferred his attention to their other dorm mate, Adonis Thorn. He must have been listening when Jack had tried to inform Opeila about hags because he seemed interested on what had been said about Jack's experience with them.

"There was one I saw near the Groundskeeper's Hut," he clarified. "But yes, it was on school grounds and too close for comfort. I...I don't want to go around spreading rumors about what I'm not certain of yet," he continued, thinking about his hypothesis regarding Erin and Thomas' involvement, "but it could just be that the hags can change shape, so there seem to be more of them than there actually are. I'll...try to tell you more once I can confirm some things with Professor Jensen after dinner tonight."

And then his mention of 'the Reaper' was brought up; a subject Jack seemed less serious about, especially now that Santario had left. "It was just a nickname Martin had used for LeStrange at the ball; probably because he was wearing all black." He shrugged at Adonis with a crooked smile. "I was mostly just teasing to try to make conversation with Martin, but evidently she didn't take to it too well."

That question answered, Jack looked toward Nico, wondering if Kara's offer had been of any help to her. Instead, though, it seemed to have caused her to hit her knee against the table instead. The Slytherin boy winced in sympathy.

He noticed how the pair of girls interacted, recalling their previous interaction in their Head of House's office when they had been leaving Mother's Day gifts for her. They seemed to be on completely different levels of thought, so Jack did not blame Nico for not seeming all that interested in conversation with Kara. However, what he did hold her responsible for was the claim she had main in order to avoid said conversation.

"Are you quite sure about that, Shymane?" he asked the dhampir, his words weighted with untold meaning as he met her icy blue eyes.

Interacting: @Selim Faust, @Adonis Thorn, & @Nico Shymane
Mentioning: @Santario Martin, @Kara Capricorn, & @Opeila Seilun

"More me?" The Hufflepuff chuckled. "What is that supposed to mean?" He smiled at her as he brushed his own hand across his jaw. "I have missed it. Makes me feel clean again." It did. He hated the prickling across his cheeks and neck. But in the last few months, he simply had not found the energy to get to it. No, his mental state had not survived without a few dents along the road. Neither had his body as a matter of fact. It was clear Caradoc had suffered some injuries across the year. Some more visible than others. The black mark was still there. All while he was none the wiser to its purpose. It was just there, black and dull. He could not shake the feeling that something was left untouched in trying to fix this. Something still festering inside.

There had been so little time to rest. Doc was losing a race he never intended to run. Sadly it was not just him. No, it was all of them that were participants. Yet almost none of them knew. On some days, he wondered what he was still doing here. It sometimes felt as if he had become head of House under false pretence that he'd keep everything okay and in order. He had been a fool. A lonesome fool, who failed to keep up with the ever-changing machinations of evil. But there was evil everywhere. Like for poor Howard White. Another kid forced to go home. While home was no better a place than a castle that tried to murder them. In time, Caradoc hoped the kid would understand what they did today. How the boy was not alone.

Just like Caradoc was not alone. She was here and had been. Nora was actually one of the few people in the castle he trusted with his life. He could have sworn she had a Hufflepuff spirit at times. Though sometimes Slytherin suited her just fine. A soft smile appeared across his lips as he was reminded of her cleaning charm in the dungeons. How silly it seemed right now... Yet, he loved her for it.

His own hand had found its way resting on the arm of his chair. Dangling by itself, his eyes fell upon it and slowly turned to the side. Caradoc was not a brave man. He was someone that healed and wished to be healed. In for what had been longer than a decade, he had not ever had a thought like this. Yet it came so effortlessly to mind. There was no point in arguing with himself. He knew he wanted to do it. There was no point in lying. There was no need to fight. So in the true Browne fashion, his fingertips slowly reached out towards her chair. His hand caressing hers under the table as his fingers finally dug in deep and locked with hers.

There was no way of knowing what was to come. But his clear blue eyes would be waiting. A faint smile barely made it to his face. It took almost all his will to keep his lip from quivering. Swallowing hard, he realised perhaps this was to be his mistake. His nose wiggled slightly as the worrying thoughts slowly started streaming in.

Opeila was not amazed by being told not to be able to stay in Hogwarts, but it was no worldchanging information to her. She would have probably gone home anyway, her father would have demanded it.
For some others though, it seemed like some sort of deathsentence. Opeila watched an older Hufflepuff boy- probably a third or fourth year- throw his dishes on the floor and start to cry red tears. A dhampir. Her gaze followed him when he stormed out of the hall. She could only see his face for a short time but she saw him talking to something in his hand... weird.
Maybe she would ask him sometime, if she happened to meet him again the next days.

Now that she thought about it... She had heard about hags before. Yes. Professor Browne had mentioned them in their conversation back in march. Back then Opeila didn't know what hags were- she was a halfblood but new in this world and she had to get to know loads of thing still- but by now she had read about them. She remembered the Professor cutting himself off and denying things that she would not have wasted a thought one, if he hadn't denied them unnecessarily. Jack obviously knew things and suddenly it annoyed her deeply that he had not shared that when she had shared everything she knew. It would have been kind of good to know where she should not go, right?

Anyway, he now told her about one near the groundkeeper's hut. Opeila's eyes widened. She had been in the freaking forest with Persephone. Hell could have happened, but if they were on the grounds as well... Opeila's trips to the lake would end now it seemed. "Two covens? What makes you think that? Did the hag talk to you?", she asked him, her voice as well lowered.

Adonis' jokingly meant comment unsettled her further. "Hags look like old witches though, don't they? Not like students...", she said, her gaze wandered throught the hall, over the benches. She had to think logically.
Adonis agreed with her comment on the scolding over the events. Opeila nodded. "I assume the ball was the bigger harm..."

Adonis turned to Jack as well now, throwing a bunch of questions at him. The reaper... That one was indeed interesting. Who on earth was the reaper?
The question was answered quickly. A nickname that the other girl Jack had talked to, Martin, had given Lestrange. Understandable, his outfit at the ball had been fit for a funeral.
Hags could change shapes? This was bad...
Opeila started to make a list in her head. There were some questions she had to ask a certain professor later. She didn't involve herself in the conversation again, when Jack approached the dhampir princess prefect. Opeila did not see a reason to force herself to talk to her.

Mentioning @Santario Martin @Nico Shymane @Howard White @Persephone Barret @Caradoc Browne @Thomas Lestrange
Interacting with @Jack Burnett @Adonis Thorn

Interacting with @Alexis Asterion
───── ⋆★⋆ ─────
Open to Ravenclaw Interaction

Mars' head snapped up at the sudden poke to the ribs. They stared at the raven-haired witch who had tapped them, head set into arms that were anchored on the table. Mars blinked at her. She seemed elegant but then, always with that elegant, a certain air of pretentiousness. The wix tried to shake that away. Best not to make conclusions too early on. That lead to enemies. And enemies usually meant you ended up lying face down in a ditch somewhere.

The Ravenclaw copied the witch's motions, turning to look at her with their chin resting in a palm. Alexis, hmm? They racked their brain, trying to figure out if they'd seen her before. Ugh, memory was a stupid, faulty invention. Something about her was familiar, but they couldn't put a finger on it. Oh well. She was probably just a passerby they had noticed around campus.

Mars kept their lips pressed tight as they listened to her ramble commentary about the announcements. There was a bitter edge to her tone, like maybe she resented the professors for this. Deep down, Mars had to agree. Curfew felt like a cage, the impression of it already forcing feelings of sweltering heat into their lungs. But Mars had always been a logician at heart. They understood why the rules were in place and they could put their feelings aside if they had to. They could bear through it. They always had.

When the food arrive, the witch finally stopped, putting down her tirade in favor of picking up her fork. Mars let out the slightest hint of a pressed smirk, all hollow disbelief and no usual snark. They picked up their fork too, dragging it through the food on their plate like it was mush and not someone of the best stuff they'd ever tasted. Bad news always came with a bitter taste.

"You done with that rant?" they muttered under their breath. Snapping their head up again, they winced. That wasn't meant to be rude but—well, whatever. They pulled their fork across the plate again.

"Mars," they uttered, as if that could be some form of apology. The clink of silverware and hushed voices was broken by a boy screaming about—something. Mars wasn't paying much attention. The thoughts swirled in their head, all leading back to the holes they had in their memory. Ugh. It was getting annoying. How hard was it to get answers in this massive—Mars sneaked
a glance back up at Alexis. Oh. They finally halted the movements of the fork, took a deep breath, and looked properly at the witch.

"Mars T'ien. Sorry, was a bit lost in thought. I don't know anything about Lear beyond rumors, Hags sound cool but kind of disgusting, they probably won't let us wander around considering they're putting all these rules up in the first place, expulsion is probably better than death, and the idea of curfew makes me want to strangle something," they fired off in rapid succession. Let it never be said that they weren't listening. They just didn't really feel like interrupting her while she was going. But now, maybe she could give them some answers.

"Can I ask you something?" they prodded, spearing a piece of chicken with their idle fork, "I didn't go to the Halloween ball. What happened with the race-baiting? And who is that guy?" they pointed the chicken to the man seated at the professor's table. Hopefully, Alexis would have some answers.

Interacting With: @Caradoc Browne

In all honesty, she was not entirely sure that she knew how to explain it. His clean shaven face was more what she was accustomed to. It was associated with the happier memories - the ones before the school started to get attacked time and time again - and the calmer times. He had stopped shaving after the incidents with the hags or some time after he realised it was potentially connected to Lear's, if she had to hazard a guess. It was associated with worrying times or a negative connotation. Perhaps it just made him look more in control, or happier or calmer or in a better mental state. There was no real answer to his question, it was just something she thought was more him.

Luckily, she did not have to actually answer it. She internalised for a few moments and that was enough for the badger to continue to talk. Of course it was. That was their relationship, in fairness. She had spent the past year thinking whilst he actually spoke. There were times where she thought she had told him something, she could have sworn that she had... Only to find out that she had internalised the entire response whilst he was rambling on.

Hjørdis sipped her juice. Smirking slightly at his comment, "Mhm," She responded, "And we know I'm a fan of clean things..." She replied, not actually looking at him as she teased herself a little. During one of their night patrols not too long ago, she had decided to clean the dungeons and since then, he spared no hesitation in mocking her for it. In her defense, it was utterly disgusting and she would do it again - because it was gross and icky.

The silence fell on them. It was not something she minded, not at all. She actually rather enjoyed the silence. But it was a little odd for him to be quiet. Nonetheless, she took the opportunity to continue to eat food. Her appetite was slowly getting better as she ate more food. Picking up the mug she had, which actually had juice in it, she lifted it and took a sip.

Her right hand flinched a little as she felt something against her fingers. Her body froze, almost spitting out the juice that she was drinking. Managing to swallow, she coughed a little. Her slightly widened eyes were staring into the mug. It was perhaps lucky that it was a mug, as she might have dropped it if her fingers weren't wrapped around the handle. It might have only been a moment or two but it felt a lot longer. She swallowed, as her gaze flickered a little. It started to go down but in reality, she knew what was happening. She did not need to see her hand to know. Her head turned only a little, slightly off centre as she glanced at the man next to her from the corner of her eyes.

As she was having a small internal panic, she felt his fingers locking with hers. She turned her head fully towards him as he locked his fingers with hers. Her eyes found the side of his face, staring intently at him. She searched his face for answers.

Two months ago, as they patrolled the dungeons and saw how the darkness came alive, she had given him a warning. He accidentally bumped into her and she almost blew his face up with a bombarda. She specifically told him that the next time he touched her, she could not be responsible for what might happen to him.

But attacking him - in the middle of the Great Hall with hundreds of students present, moments after they encouraged people to work together and stay safe - seemed like a bad idea. Besides, she had already humiliated him once in front of the students by punching him, over a year ago. She still felt bad for that since it was not exactly deserved. This time, it might be deserved though. Perhaps this time it would be bette- no. She knew she could not hit him. Not right now anyway. After everyone had left, however? It was free game to crucio the hell out of him.

Hjørdis was not really one for physical touch. Even her closest friends or family would rarely get a hug from her. If they initiated one, she would not kill them but she rarely would think of initiating one, even if she was trying to comfort someone. She had been hugged a few times over the years by random students and had not thrown them out of the window. There were plenty more times when she probably should have hugged a student and did not. Over the past two years, she could count how many times she had patted someone on the head or on the shoulder on one hand and pretty much all of those were in the past few months.

But for some reason, some people chose to hug her when they needed comforting. Not that she understood why. Her hands were as cold as her reputation. If you wanted warmth and comfort, she was not the person to go to. But nonetheless, people reached out to her for comfort. Perhaps this was the same thing. He needed comforting and this was his solution. Or perhaps he was trying to comfort her. She sighed softly, her intense questioning gaze relaxing. Right. That made sense. Of course. They had known each other for over a year and grown to be quite good friends. She had almost cried in front of him once. Though, he would likely never know that. But the Slytherin attack had worried her so much that she almost cried thinking about it in front of him. Hell, they had been attacked together, discovering the dangers lurking within the castle walls.

That night when she patrolled the dungeons, trying to find the source of the Slytherin attack, he offered to go with her. There was a reason that patrols were now done in pairs. If she had walked into that dungeon by herself that night, the attacks might have been successful. Having someone by your side was certainly far safer. She was glad that he came with her.

They were not alone. That was what they wanted to tell the students. The entire speech might have been about their safety, the new rules, the new instructions but... the underlining message that they all needed to take away was that they were not alone. That people cared about them and their safety. It hurt to see students like the Hufflepuff [Howard White] who was angry and hurt. These precautions they were taking might save his life but it was at the expense of his happiness. Hjørdis could only hope that the cost of their happiness was temporarily. For now though, they had to stay together. Travel in groups, watch out for each other and know that they were not alone.

And that was precisely what he was telling her.

The same applied to professors. They were also not alone. And sometimes... they just needed comfort. A few of them had been badly injured over the year to scarily close to death levels, cursed - multiple times in the case of one - and attacked. Hjørdis was lucky enough to be unscathed physically but the same was not true for all of them. And mentally, these incidents were taxing and draining on them all. The man next to her had not only been almost killed by a hag, he had also witnessed his colleagues getting attacked before hearing the screams of the students that he considered to be children and witnessing the chaos all around them. He had been cursed more than once and was still not much closer to the truth. All within a matter of a few months. It was not easy.

Her internalising felt like it lasted forever. Her mind raced faster than her heart beat. In reality, it had only been a few moments but it felt like forever. Swallowing, she carefully put the cup she was still holding down as she regained a little bit of composure and glanced back at her food. Sighing softly, she stared at her plate.

She picked up her fork again, poking it into some food from her plate, "You should eat something..." She said softly, knowing that he had not actually touched his food, before taking her own bite. Hjørdis continued to eat, as though absolutely nothing had happened.

Flash sat quietly at the dining table while the other students filtered in. He wasn’t too used to spending a long time in the Great Hall, he mostly grabbed food and ate elsewhere, either at the Hufflepuff table, the courtyard, or some other undisclosed location. Too much loud chatter really spoiled his appetite, and his active mind would seek out bits and pieces of conversation rather than pay attention to what he was eating. On this occasion however, it was mandatory, and there was no food.

The teachers each took turns describing the current situation, at least to a degree. It was good, he had come across so many other students who had no idea what the Slytherins had gone through on the night they were attacked-- even some of the Slytherins who had been fast asleep during the event were still clueless. Now at least everyone wouldn’t be so shocked when he mentioned it. It was best that everyone was informed, even if they were young students. He was a bit surprised at what he didn’t know, really. Namely, about the hags.

The Slytherins at his table were quick to take up the mantle of further discussion. Opeila and Adonis chatted a bit, with Burnett saying his own piece about the issue of the hags, mentioning he would tell the teachers what he knew before starting to chat with a few other Slytherins down the table. Adonis and Opeila seemed to have the same immediate concerns anyone would have with the new information-- that a hag was spotted on the grounds, and that hags could change shape.

How were they supposed to stop something like that? What, they were conscious magical creatures, or were they some race of sentient being? Flash didn’t realize he would need to learn so much about esoteric topics. Darius had mentioned hags a time or two, namely their penchant for eating children, but Flash had never connected that they were an actual living thing like the other creatures he mentioned, since ‘hag’ was just a common word thrown around at abrasive spinsters in the muggle world. Though, if Professor Pendrast and the others hadn’t removed them from the forest, then what could they expect next year?

Well, the Ministry had apparently been contacted about it anyway. Certainly something would be done. Well… that was what Flash wanted to believe, with all his heart, but he knew the kind of red tape rampant in the inner workings of Ministry initiatives. It would seem rather straight-forward for the Ministry to send someone out to banish some hags who seemed to be actively terrorizing students, but it wasn’t. There was due process, and not to mention office politics. Who would stretch their neck out to make a risky call, or what exactly did the heads in power think about sentient magical creatures, and their rights or motivations? Even in the hallowed halls of law and order, within still lay the court of opinions.

It wasn’t as if he could ask his brothers when he got home, this wasn’t a matter either of them would likely be a participating member in, unless the issue got shot up the ranks into the Wizengamot, where Valerius lurked. Darius, as an auror-in-training, was more concerned with dark wizards and retrieving wanted criminals for transport to Azkaban. This was more likely a matter for… the Department of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, Flash assumed. Without their headmaster present and advocating for them, how much pressure was really being applied to the issue within those halls of bureaucracy? That, at least, was made abundantly clear to Flash through the idle talk at the dinner table. Things didn’t get done without pressure being applied. Most days everyone was happy to stick to easy, harmless work, and took the more controversial pleas and pushed them around to other people until someone was left with the hot potato.

While Opeila had glanced at him momentarily, Flash had little to nothing to add to the conversation. Despite generally only speaking when spoken to, Flash also hadn’t discovered anything that seemed useful in all his attempts. He discovered an ancient chamber for parselmouths, tried to use a magical changing room to get his hands on some fresh research material outside of the school library, but those were all meaningless. Even if he gave his theories about a cure for the spider’s bite to the teachers or nurses, they couldn’t just start experimenting on the afflicted students. He remembered the look on Bridget’s face when he told her the same-- it all seemed hopeless, honestly, which was not a realm where Flash liked to dwell. He liked to think there was a solution to everything so long as one was willing to look for it. The thought made him look back at Burnett, who had said nearly identical words to him before. He, of course, was antagonizing the older Slytherin students for some reason.

Well, also, wasn’t the Slytherins’ propensity for trying to solve problems themselves part of the problem to begin with? Opeila and Flash in particular seemed to have no patience for the cogs of the machine to turn themselves, and felt an incessant need to stick their hands in the moving machine to see what was wrong with it. Burnett must not have been too dissimilar if he was off meeting hags on the grounds. It wasn’t hard for Flash to imagine him getting himself into increasingly dire circumstances through ‘caring too much’, whether he would describe that way himself or not. While he fought to proclaim his independence from attachment to others, he often came off more as karma’s personal footman, testing people’s conviction and trying to balance the scales where they were tipping. This time he had mentioned Erin Ryan. Was there a reason she was the one with him when he saw the hag?

Besides making eye contact and clearly following along with the conversation, Flash didn’t move to open his mouth, neither before nor after the food arrived. Nothing anyone was saying needed his input, and there wasn’t much he felt could be clarified either, since Burnett seemed to want to talk things over with Madam Jensen before spreading rumors. He wouldn’t want to question him about Erin in front of everyone either, doubtful that he would get a straight answer in such a situation. He had clearly meant to say something to him about the curfew change-- but that was also a sensitive topic. Flash had been breaking the rules for over a month at that point, but now rather than the idle threat of having to clean the ballroom floor all over again, it was a threat of expulsion. A bit more dire.

If he was expelled from Hogwarts, he would surely be put into a muggle school to finish his education. A disappointment, but at least he was just one of five, so it hardly mattered. Mari had made it through the muggle system as an upstanding citizen and intelligent businesswoman, so it wasn’t like a death sentence. Still… for Flash it would be… horrifying. He could still technically use some magic, but he would never get the chance to hone the skill, or learn anything truly worthwhile. That and… he would lose the chance to grow up with the people he had come to know over the year. Opeila, Burnett, and Adonis were a few. People he would miss. Would he have to… go back to the dorms, then? At least at the start of the year, until he could chart out the prefects’ movements and find the gaps in their rounds again. Even then… wasn’t the price too great?

It wasn’t as though he could blame the professors for their decision. He likely would have made much the same under the circumstances. He trusted Madame Jensen to have their best interest in mind, from what he could tell through her behavior. Perhaps the seemingly endless comfort of his newfound bedroom was nothing but a fool’s dream to begin with. Too good to be true, as most things in his life were.

Interacting with: Literally only his own thoughts, this is the character I made and I have to live with that reality every day
Mentioning: @Opeila Seilun, @Adonis Thorn, @Jack Burnett, @Erin Ryan, Hjørdis Jensen, Elaine Pendrast
TL;DR: Flash is clearly following along with the conversation at the Slytherin table, but says nothing