Land of Confusion PV Meenauh & Xailah Finished

Just in several hours she and Xailah would find themselves wandering in the same very halls as right now, but on a duty. Duty to catch those misbehaving students, who dare to break the rules. Considering the fact that the earlier curfew wasn't lifted up. She, now a third year, and Xailah, now a fourth year. That meant something — that they've survived. It was pretty a common saying that finishing a year in Hogwarts was not an achievement of scholarship anymore, but an achievement of sheer luck and coincidence that one made it through alive.

Meenauh and Xailah spent a decent bunch of hours with all the facts they had. They were trying to build everything together — the stuff from Daily Prophet (how one can actually trust what was written? was it all manipulation?), the Potter's case and the wand, the Mask, the Glove, the three suspects, the dolls, the hags, Finlay, Headmaster Lear, and many many more other facts. They were playing the truth seekers, probably not even understanding what was the goal of all that. Meenauh was a truth seeker by nature. Most probably, it didn't even mean whatever the aim of it was, as long as the truth was to be found.

But for now, they just needed dinner. To get some energy to live it through the patrolling duty. She loved to patrol together with her friend. For two reasons, mainly. First, they got to spend more time together as all the classes they had were fairly separated (except the ones, Professor Vernatis and Ress allowed her to be present at, but even those were together mostly with Slytherin or Hufflepuff, and never with Gryffindors). Second, it was some unexplained pleasure to catch a student together. The awkward intimidation from her feline friend and Meenauh's cold approach made sure the rule-breaker not only understand but will try to avoid any rule-breaking in the closest future.

The crowds of students were randomly moving towards the Great Hall, with fellow prefects and professors merging together in the corridors. Meenauh carelessly stepped not talking to Xailah, as both probably understood it was pointless to attempt any conversation with all the noise around. They would dive into one during the meal anyway. The careless look-around fell on to a familiar boy (they say, you always remember your first rule-breaker). She didn't notice him, while he was bleeding in the crowd, but once a figure steps out of the crowd and stops — something was off. When something was off — an investigation had to be initiated. Especially, if the person stops to scribble something in a notebook right before the entrance to the Great Hall. He could enter, sit down and it would be much more comfortable to write. Maybe he was a poet and he couldn't resist writing down a line right away? She would have probably let it go if she wouldn't have met Flash Holmwood and his previous attempts to summon a creature of darkness.

Meenauh gently poked Xailah, pointing at the boy and stepped out of the crowd, expecting Xailah to do the same. She would carefully come to Flash's back, not sure how noticeable it would look among all the other students flowing into the Great Hall, and would perk her finger into Flash's shoulder and clearing her throat:

"Hello, Flash Holmwood. Do you need any assistance with entering the Great Hall?"

There wasn’t much to jot down, but Flash’s notes always had to be very clear. He had a page for each professor, as well as the caretaker and groundskeeper, but since the year was young, there was next to nothing scrawled out on them yet. It made sense to go after his head of house first, since his presence around her wasn’t suspicious in the slightest. He wasn’t even sure the enigmatic serpent even knew who he was, since he made every attempt to stay anonymous in his interactions with her. He stayed deathly silent during the errands she ran, and both the note he penned her during Women’s Day and the treats he left for Jeger on Mother’s Day were left absent of his name.

He had admired her ever since the day of the spider attacks, seeing her face when she saw the damage that had been done, and taking control of the situation. He was a reader of people, and her body language was a story of genuine concern. Still, he couldn’t let his emotions get in the way of the truth. He could both respect and suspect… why not?

Before he could close the journal shut and continue his spying after a quick snack, he felt the press of a prodding finger on his shoulder. Expecting Willow or Burnett to be asking him to join them for their meal, he instead jumped at the sight his turning head revealed, if the clearing of the throat didn’t already send a chill down his spine. Speaking of people he feared and respected, Meenauh Silmataurea was staring him down. Belatedly, he jumped. Not exactly smooth, but it didn’t take his brain very long to register the danger. He had done everything in his power to diminish and write off that little incident in March to the giggling snickers of his peers, but Meenauh was actually there. He wasn’t likely to forget it anytime soon, as she had seen fit to provide him with an entire show of karmic irony. He thought he was going to die.

Still, he actually felt it was completely justified. He was acting idiotically. In his desperation for any tiny shred of information that would help his friends, he threw himself into anything and everything. He had abandoned logic, in a bid for hope. It was… a pathetic attempt at combating his powerlessness. Doing more harm than good. What if, somehow, that children’s rumor had really been true? He would be dead. The type of punishment that made him confront his mistakes face-to-face… he was used to it. His mother had taught him much the same way, and he accepted his detention with dignity. Well, as much dignity as he could muster after nearly fainting in fear.

”M-miss Meenauh.” Flash’s eyes shot to her side, another Gryffindor prefect was right beside her. He had long learned all their names and faces, it was Xailah Alptraum. ”Miss Xailah. I-I’m sorry.”

Why did he apologize? What are they supposed to think? Get it together... Flash’s panic was regretfully clear on his face, the physical reaction to seeing them was a searing pain in his heart. Guilt, humiliation. Wasn’t he a bit too young to already be a victim of hubris? Was he… just acting out of idiotic panic again, desperate to make sense of his surroundings? Well, yes, but Meenauh didn’t need to know that. How could he possibly explain? He corrected his face, sighing the nervousness away and putting a delicate hand on his chest.

”You frightened me… I… I’m fine. Thank you.” Flash tried to be convincing, but his other hand gripped the journal a bit too tightly.

Referencing the thread Obscure
Interacting with:@Meenauh Silmataurea @Xailah Alptraum
Mentioning: @Hjørdis Jensen

Xailah wasn't too keen on the required pairings, for prefects. It wasn't that she didn't like to spend extra time with Meenauh, or Ruby- or any prefect that was available for partnered patrols. She simply didn't like the fact that patrolling in pairs was now required. Xailah sometimes liked doing patrols on her own. She got into a lot of things she wasn't supposed to get into. Patrol time had always been her time to snoop. She wasn't exactly what one would call a 'model prefect'. That was what Gryffindor's, Miss Griseldis Edelhardt, was for- model prefecting.

Meenauh and Xailah kept pace with each other, as they drifted through the halls. Searching. They were always searching. For truths, lies, rumors. Anything that would bring them closer to an answer. Tonight they were just searching for rule breakers. And dinner- but not at the same time. Just to clarify, they were not looking to eat the rule breakers. Both children had their fair share of indirect, and even direct, cannibalistic encounters- all of which had proven to be very unpleasant. So, dinner first, then those opposing the rules. The eldest Gryffindor wasn't exactly thrilled about dinner- or any meal really. It was all routine, and she often didn't feel like eating. When she did eat, she ate like a bird. During suppertime she often spent more time playing with her food, rather than consuming it- making mashed potato-people took a very long time. Sure, her dinner plate might not have been clean, but at least it looked cute.

The Gryffindor duo slithered through the congestion of buzzing students. They did not contribute to the noise. There was no need to. Instead they moved along with the flow, quietly. Eyes of gold, and blue bounced from head to head. The blue eyes would quickly find a familiar face, and lock onto it. The golden ones however, continued to flash from person, to person- looking, but not exactly seeing. While the blue-eyed Mancunian observed this familiar stranger; the golden-eyed metamorph was collecting the faces of her peers. Oh. There was a third pair of eyes, that had easily been forgotten. They weren't blue, or gold. These eyes were copper. And they were looking for the source of the wonderful smells, that were wafting out of the great hall, and into the corridors. They were the eyes of Schrödinger- the cat belonging to the eldest Gryffindor prefect. Xailah almost never left the commons without him.

The formless mass of grey flesh, and fur, was wrapped tightly around the neck of his mistress.
Every so often his tail swatted at the air, before falling with a gentle thump, on the shoulder of the humanoid creature that was supporting him. He sent a puff of cat hair, spiraling up into the air- which sent some poor, nearby soul into a sneezing fit. He knew exactly what he was doing. And it was extremely distracting. To his metamorph at least. Meenauh still had her sights locked onto her prey. Her attention was unwavering even with the abundance of cat hair. After a moment, she poked Xailah. The Mancunian extended a long finger in the direction of the brunette lad, before taking a step to the side, and out of the crowd. Xailah mindlessly followed suit, slinking behind Meenauh, in her usual distant, and graceful way.

She moved like she was neither here nor there. Because she wasn't. Physically, she was here- wherever here was. Mentally she was elsewhere. Emotionally- well, emotionally she was everywhere, and sometimes even nowhere. The two Gryffindor girls would make their way over to their target- Meenauhs target, really. What this boy did to get Meenauhs undivided attention, Xailah did not know. Maybe Meenauh had the hots for the boy- whatever that meant. Maybe she found the act of him scribbling in a book, interesting. Who knew. The reasoning for her attention was unimportant. What was important, was the fact that he had her attention. There were some boys that would have died for such a thing. Literally- well maybe not literally. But after some time they would be praying for death.

Meenauhs attention was often a dangerous thing to have. She had this thing, with people that she took interest in- she could worm her way under their skin, without them realizing most of the time. Once she had that leverage, she made an opening for her, and her Metamorph friend, to fray whatever unfortunate being crossed their path. The two could pick apart people quickly, like hungry vultures to carrion. If this Slytherin boy- whos shoulder, was now being prodded at by Meenauh; wanted things to go well, he needed to be very careful with what he said. So far, he wasn't doing very well.

The boy, had a name. Flash. That was what Meenauh had said called him anyways. So that meant she knew him. The lad was clearly shocked- no, not shocked. Afraid? Yes he was afraid. He would confirm so later- after he addressed the two girls by their names. Xailah thought nothing of it. Would have thought nothing of it. Not many people addressed- or even knew her name. Not strangers anyways. Maybe Meenauh spoke of her to him? The metamorphs gold hues narrowed into two crescent moons. Her slotted pupils shrunk, drawing themselves into a tight line. "Sssorry? Have you done something that you should feel sorry for?" She spoke in a low, gentle hiss. Her gaze would wander, and fall onto the book he held. Held. He had that thing in a death grip. "Mm. Nice diary." Xailah fleetingly peeked at Meenauh, out of the corner of her eye. This boy was... very unusual. People like him, were usually running from the two prefects by now. But Flash wasn't running. Poke. Prod. Do your thing Meena.

Meenauh gave Xailah a surprised look as Flash was referring to her by her name. Yes, Meenauh told her about Flash, but she had no idea Flash knew Xailah as well. And Xailah's tone and choice of words worked somehow towards that as well, but eventually Meenauh analysed that Xailah was just being Xailah. Meenauh would suggest a quick introduction to test the theory.

"Xailah, this is Flash Holmwood. One of the two boys who tried to summon a being from another world. Remember, I told you the story of how Nico helped me?" she introduced Flash to Xailah, trying to call to her memory, if that was even a thing she would have cared to remember. Because, honestly, if she'd been told such a story, she'd push it back to the far wall of her memory as it was of no practical use, "And it seems you, Flash, know Xailah. How come?" she redirected her attention towards the boy.

The difference between Xailah and Meenauh was in the fact that Meenauh was good at processing, while Xailah was much better than Meenauh at noticing. Like really good at noticing. And not only the sparkling stuff. Just as Meenauh prepared to interrogate the ex-offender Flash Holmwood about his unusual behaviour, Xailah made a short comment about the diary in his tight grip. Meenauh gave it an instant glance and then back to Flash's face.

"We apologise that we've frightened you. But why are you sorry, Flash?" she didn't want to put much pressure on the diary as it may have been personal, or not, anyway it was private information and she shouldn't put any pressure on him, "What did you do again?"

Ok, it seemed that the 'no pressure' scenario wasn't unfolding nicely.

Flash had done himself no favor at all, his extremely suspicious actions drawing the attention of the black-haired prefect who before then seemed mostly distracted by the world around her. She, like a natural born investigator, latched on to his misspoken apology immediately. Flash couldn’t help but grimace, it was a trap he had laid for himself and promptly stepped in. Gryffindors were not to be trifled with, they often had more drive for rooting out injustices than anyone, and weren’t likely to let go once they had hooked into something being wrong. A diversion at this point was likely not going to dissuade them from digging deeper, and he certainly wasn’t going to start being a liar now.

Meenauh seamlessly continued the dialogue by introducing the two-- Flash could have cursed himself for making the mistake that he so often made during his first year. It wasn’t normal to know people’s names without being told. It weirded people out, made them aware of the fact that he was watching them, and keeping tabs on people. Sometimes he forgot that it wasn’t standard practice. He didn’t know how anyone could stand to live out their normal lives without knowing as much about their surroundings as possible. She brought up the summoning ritual, as well as asking Flash directly. He had to answer.

”M-Miss Xailah is a prefect. I know… all the prefect’s names.” He was nowhere close to where he needed to be. He was getting backed into a corner quicker than he realized there was a corner behind him. ”Is that really so strange? You’re… you all are public figures, isn’t that right?”

Xailah noted Flash’s journal, giving Meenauh reason to glance at it herself. He wished he could just vanish! He couldn’t settle on whether he felt supremely unlucky, or if he had just been a moron for acting so openly, assuming no one would notice him. He should have thought about Meenauh, she was the one person who was sure to see him in an uncharitable light. He should have tracked her movements first, so he could avoid her.

Too late for that now. She was prying. He wasn’t going to be able to explain away his nervousness so easily. He needed to switch the narrative, and quickly. It was a near impossible task with two brightly analytical eyes watching for his next mistake, waiting for the opportunity to catch a whiff of his suspicious intention. Flash stuffed his journal into his bag quickly. It was a bit of a sktchy move, but it wasn’t like they could demand to see it. He straightened up his posture and took a deep breath, he had to make the most out of the situation instead of just lamenting it.

”I haven’t done anything wrong.” Flash stated it as a fact, his voice no longer wavering, but still quiet and a bit unsure. They weren’t going to be satisfied with plain refusal, and what with everyone herding into the Great Hall, there was also the matter that they might be extra irritable from hunger. Best to not test their patience. ”I track public figures because I don’t blindly trust authority. I just want to know who is doing what, and when. I… I think that’s fair.”

Of course, whether they agreed was another matter. Flash knew the rules, there was nothing in them against knowing people’s schedules, he couldn’t get a detention for it… probably. He didn’t want to leave it open for interpretation, he wanted them to see his point of view.

”Do you trust all the professors with your life? After everything that happened last year? The disappearances?” Not just students, but teachers too. The head nurse, the potions professor. For all the professors said, there was so much more they weren’t saying.

@Xailah Alptraum @Meenauh Silmataurea

In an attempt to jog the metamorphs memory, Meenauh would share a previous encounter between herself and the boy Flash. Xailah had heard the story before. She was certain of it. She remembered the grouping of certain keywords. Flash. Summon. Being. Nico. She whispered these to herself, as she tested how familiar they felt. "Mm." Her tongue pressed itself against the roof of her mouth. She let out a hesitant, and mechanical click. "Yes. I remember." Xailah had a secret- well, okay, she had a lot of secrets. But one of her lighter secrets, was that she remembered stories. She liked stories, she wanted to remember them, so she could retell them to herself. She even liked the 'useless' ones. The reason? Simple. Everything had some sort of use. As Meenauh continued to speak, the metamorph would continue to silently watch Flash. Watch him back himself into a corner. "Yes. I find it strange. Meenauh, how many housemates know our names?" She looked to the other lioness, with a single brow shaped into an arch. Not many, not many. As far as known names among the house, were concerned; Meenauh was 'The Weird Prefect,' and Xailah was 'The Weird Prefect with the '. Meenauh would later apologize for startling the snake. But truthfully, neither lion was really sorry.

For someone who didn't do anything wrong; Flash was being awfully defensive. "No one ever sssaid you did." Xailah had always found the trait to be consistent with those possessing a guilty conscience. Did Flash have one? Or did his defensive stance stem from being spooked? No. Maybe he was embarrassed. Hm. Yes. Judging by what he would say next, that was the more likely of the three options. No one wanted to openly admit that they stalk- track those with authority. "You mean you... stalk public figures." She corrected in a uncharacteristically monotone voice. "Do you write about them in your little book?" Both Gryffindors most likely knew the answer to that question already. Why else would the boy carry a journal with him? Xailah was mildy amazed, and humored if anything. All this boy was doing, was digging himself into a hole. If he was to misstep; the girls would see to it, that he laid in that hole. The lioness didn't know why she found this encounter weirdly amusing; but she was trying very hard to keep from giggling like a schoolgirl. Mayhaps she had an undiscovered sadistic streak, and seeing the boy squirm brought her joy? It was possible. But very unlikely. Despite her sharp tongue, and bold personality, the metamorph was a rather gentle creature. Sometimes. There were times she enjoyed seeing her peers stammer in discomfort, but it was anything but sadistic. Really.

Xailah was quick to answer, when Flash inquired about trusting the professors. Her gaze would briefly dart to Meenauh; wondering if the Mancunian would share her stance. "No." The metamorph said simply. She had never trusted the shepherd. The shepherd was scarier than the wolves, and dogs. "I don't even trust myself with my own life." A rare admission. But the boy was clearly curious. He asked. She answered. But she doubted it was the answer he wanted to hear. Unless of course the boy was looking for a way to flip the situation. Which if that was the case, he was succeeding. Sort of. "Remember Flash, we are ssstudents too. Just because prefects have a little bit of power, doesn't mean that we are completely blind. I'm quite sure we prefects have had the sssame thoughts as you, Flash." A exasperated sigh, escaped from the metamorphs parted row, of sharp, and pearly enamel. It was irritating sometimes- prefects sometimes being treated like dumb, lowly beings. "In fact most- no, all of the members of the prefect body, have been effected by what you have mentioned." Her jaw clenched. "Many are direct victims..." She said in a low murmur, her voice trailing off. "Did you consider that, before you started your ssstudy?"

"He knows all the prefects' names?!" the sarcastic voice suddenly came out to support the condescending stare that Meenauh was giving to Flash, "So we must be famous then, right?"

Meenauh mentally shook the voice off as it was only a distraction from the point of their conversation. Xailah was succeeding in that conversation anyway, giving Meenauh a chance to analyse and observe.

Xailah confirmed the thought by asking how many students from Gryffindor alone could know their names. Not many to be honest. Usually, only those knew their names, who stayed in the class with any of them, or got detention from them — which Gryffindors somehow successfully avoided. The observation led to an interesting turnout even Meenauh wasn't getting to — the absolute trust in authority. Before she dived into a whirlwind of possible answers, Xailah went on answering the question right away. Which was also a good thing, because Meenauh was also interested in her answer. The previous year was a frightening year, which shook their trust in professors' body and the security of the school. It's not like they didn't respect them or weren't grateful for their classes. It was more like... yeah, they couldn't trust them with their lives.

"Since when are you talking about you and Xailah as if you're the same person?" the logical voice noticed the tendency to Meenauh's surprise. She looked at Xailah, smiling, and kept listening to what she was saying. A lot of time has passed and it did feel that they were becoming almost the same person. Meenauh learnt from Xailah and felt her, and she hoped Xailah felt something similar to her. She was pretty sure because there was chemistry. Nothing works without chemistry.

From a certain point, Xailah's answer was a pain to listen to. Meenauh instantly remembered the night after the Masquerade ball, she even felt the burned smell again. But she answered quite what Meenauh herself would. Xailah's voice seemed to be rising as if her blood was starting to boil. Angry was not the state Meenauh used to see Xailah in. But it wasn't anger, it was some mix of annoyance and something else.

She waited until Xailah finished, watching how that speech affected the poor Slytherin boy. She patted Xailah on her shoulder — a gesture of tenderness — to calm her a little. And then addressed Flash:

"You can't believe in the fact that we trust all professors with our lives after what has happened during the previous year, Flash. We may have had more facts and findings on our hands that you can imagine. You are not the only one doing," she paused and gave his little notebook a glance, "some research."

Maybe Flash obtained a piece to the puzzle they had spent so much time to solve during the previous year?

Xailah was watching over him carefully, a formidable opponent in that she seemed to quickly catch up to the situation at hand and start questioning everything. A natural born interrogator. The way her mood had shifted from complete ambivalence to honed needling at Meenauh’s request relayed one thing for sure-- the two of them were close. The way they conversed seemed nearly effortless, like a singular unit working with two brains. He could feel envious if he wasn’t instead tickled by fear.

She called his defensive statements into question, saying they hadn’t accused him of anything yet. He had little to say to cover for himself. It seemed nothing would get by her. ”I suppose not.” It was another weak answer, hardly an excuse to someone who was paying as close attention as she was.

Then, even worse, she corrected his word usage, even correctly implying the meaning of the actions they caught him doing. Flash was helpless to keep himself from cringing. Most people were too polite to actually point out the obvious, especially when it would inevitably bring about great discomfort or embarrassment. Not Xailah, as it turned out. Observant, direct, assertive. He would be taking notes, she was making herself out to be someone that he needed to understand if he was going to survive his school year.

He, of course, didn’t actually have to answer that. A trap many scared young students fell into, thinking that being caught meant they had to give up the fight. Flash wasn’t about to confirm her suspicions, whether his face told the truth or not.

”I would like to keep my personal writing private.” He wanted to say something more pointed, more snapping, such as ‘where’s your warrant’, but he didn’t want to brew any animosity by being cheeky. He was already in the hot seat.

He was surprised then when she was also quick to answer his question-- with a ‘no’. He perhaps could have guessed that they had their doubts, but the assuredness of her conviction was not at all what he had expected. Was it meant to throw him off his guard, or was it coming from her heart? His gritted teeth and furrowed brow slowly changed into something softer, more curious as she continued. That they were all students, all affected. Of course he had thought of that, he wanted to assume the best in everyone, even Vladimir Athanatos. He couldn't allow himself to tread along so naively, though.

Xailah sighed, her quietly contemplative companion patting her on the shoulder-- Meenauh took over the reins of the conversation before Flash had time to think about how to answer Xailah’s question which was, admittedly, probably hypothetical. Even though Xailah’s open admittance of distrust had surprised him, Meenauh’s words were even more shocking. They had their own research? With that, Flash’s eye went wided, and his mouth opened and closed dumbly as the words were struggling to come out.

”I… you have?” The newness of the situation that he found himself in was a bit jarring. He normally liked having an iron fist on the flow of the conversation, and controlling the dialogue through subtle suggestions, but he hadn’t been in control at all. It was like a train off the tracks, crashing into unknown territory. ”You… research…”

Flash’s eyes inadvertently looked back to his bag where he stashed the journal away. It held not even half of what all he had learned last year-- most of his and Evelynn’s notes were locked away in an inaccessible magical room, or written in a ciphered code. Even when they blatantly told him they were on his side, he didn’t know who to trust anymore. He didn’t know how to trust anymore.

”How- how do I know you’re not saying that just so I’ll spill my guts?” The best he could think to do was just ask them. ”I want to trust you... I need help.”

Flash’s eyes cast down, now something more like genuine fear floating across his features.

”I’m so lost.” He hated being vulnerable, he usually kept his emotions tightly in check, emoting very little, but the whole interaction had swept him up into it. ”I just want to find a cure. For the hag’s curse. My friends are suffering, I don’t want them to get hurt anymore.”

Unsure of his standing, he looked back up to the two older students with pleading eyes. They could so easily destroy the last vestige of trust he had in others, but they were reaching out to him instead, weren’t they?

@Xailah Alptraum @Meenauh Silmataurea

For a sudden moment, she felt Flash was getting smaller and smaller as if he was shrinking. It was not physical, it was the aura, the energies around him were shrinking as he getting deeper into the corner. As she was speaking, Flash was only trying to reply back with short abrupt phrases, displaying his unreadiness to sustain the dialogue in a decent manner. It felt like conversing was not his thing. Or probably he was just pierced through and nailed to a wall hanging in his disbelief that the two Gryffindor prefects, whose he considered authorities for some reason, could have been on his side and looking at things from his point of view.

One quick attempt to return into the flow with a sharp question with the "prove it" attitude made Meenauh raise her left brow as her image of Flash started to suddenly build up into a more confident stance. Just to shatter into pieces as a plea for help came as a metallic ball right into the heart of this castle of glass.

She sighed as Flash got completely broken with eyes kept down low on the floor — probably somewhere close to his understanding of what was actually happening.

"Continue," she asked him as his plea for help had to be supported by something more evident and ready to work with. And Flash mentioned some cure, the hag's curse, his friends suffering. As he was listing his problems, Meenauh was shooting glances at Xailah, while thinking where was the best moment to stop him.

"Okay, wait. Which curse? Which cure? How do you know about the curse?" she spat it out on Flash as if bombarding him was the best strategy, "As I mentioned we have... some... knowledge based on our research", she proceeded carefully not to spill anything Flash wasn't ready for just yet, "Xailah knows something about hags."

She pointed at her friend with her thumb, ready to actively censor her in case the conversation would go wrong. Flash could have been just a very good actor and the whole conversation could easily be a set-up. They lived in the age of information, so any sort of information could be used as a weapon.