September 1 MS

It was a busy day of lugging heavy leather cases up the steep inclined path back to the castle from the low-laying campgrounds. It was demanding work and Hess had been at it since shortly after sunrise. He was the sort that liked to take his time waking, the early morning hours were meant for the twittering birds, he was the sort that stayed up too late in the evening and loathed waking before lunch hour but Hogwarts had little patience for people that actually prioritized rest.

This was one of the few morning that he did not need to be forcibly evacuated from his bed by one of the house elves. He had much to do this day. First and foremost he needed to lug his belongings back to the Gryffindor Dorms. He admittedly missed the routine and security his dorm promised. The quiet peace, the simplicity of it all and the lack of extended family he had to contend with on a regular basis.

He also had to deal with the stupidity of his cousin Mathias Pride. He had gotten himself pummeled by some burly mixed blood boy, he did not know the details but he did not particularly care. Jürgen was rather confident that Matt was just trying to get out of moving day, his sneakiness was boundless and unfathomable. He wished he could have bribed Hugh or Galton to help him with his and his cousin's luggage, a few hour endeavor would have likely been reduced to under an hour if Galton used the power of sugar rush a unique super-power the unique teen seemed to possess. As for Hugh, he probably could have carried everything he had ever owned plus himself in a single trip to the castle. He did not reach out to either of them of course, he did not want them asking any questions. He did not want them to notice that something was out of the ordinary.

He had a very specific task, one that he thought that he would be assisted in. He was here to kill Erin Ryan.

He was waiting on the edge of the Black Lake facing the castle, every student needed to cross this area if they wanted to reach the castle. It was a sort of bottle neck, he had every intention of finding the elusive, mad Slytherin. The path was hardly empty, he would have needed to draw the girl away once he spotted her.

His dark grey eyes would flicker as he spotted the girl. Relatively attractive blond with a shuffling gait and a stooped over posture. She walked like the undead, she frequently looked about herself as if she was looking for something, someone. Erin would almost stumble over a girl sitting in the grass eating a sandwich. The girl, he vaguely knew her as 'Mary', one of Vlad's girlfriends. Fun to look at, not a whole lot upstairs.

Whatever happened, something spooked the girl as he opened his mouth to call out to the girl. She was running the wrong way. Hess would frown, he was quick on his feet with long legs and a thin, limber body but he was already tired. He already suffered through manual work. "Wait!" He called out after her, an idle request really. "Erin, wait up!"

Having had a comparatively lovely time in the camp as compared to his brother's lodge, Flash was grateful to have school start again. He would offer the same thing he offer from the train-- to carry Willow's luggage as well as his, as he intended to once again take his time to leisurely re-acquaint himself with the surroundings that were becoming a second home for him. The preferred home, despite his despicable living quarters.

He had already spent most of August getting back in contact with his friends and doing fun activities, so now he intended to walk the grounds alone. He would be doing so many times through the year, and he needed to scout new jogging trails since running predictable routes was something he was trying to avoid. Being jumped once was enough for him.

He hardly expected his relaxing jaunt to lead him to something out of the ordinary, though his keen eyes would scarcely miss it. It was certainly Erin Ryan who was running like mad, and a student was calling after her by name. Flash would never say he was Erin's friend, and in fact, was certain she had no friends. This was an odd scenario indeed, in need of investigation.

Whoever this student was had stirred her into a panic, and while he didn't really need an excuse to step in to be a white knight, he did actually owe her his life. He would quickly walk over to engage the stranger, the familiar face of Marion (?) also nearby.

"What's your business with Miss Erin?" Flash would say if he was able to get within earshot, perhaps a bit more of an accusing tone than the stranger deserved.

Erin would flee from the scene, unaware that the creature she fled was herself. That the stone was reacting not to an external influence but to her own. That she was intrinsically changing, becoming that which she had feared. The only saving grace in all of this being the fact that she was unknowingly also fleeing her murderer.

A bit of exposition necessary, years ago Erin made a deal. A deal that as a child she felt was in her favor, that there would not be a day where she would pay the price and that if her debtors came calling that the "change" was more like a choice of vocation, a partnership, an internship, a club, perhaps a sisterhood. The exchange was a heart, an essential component that she lacked. A heart in exchange for a life, or to be less dramatic to accept a change. She believed that being a crone was a choice, a conscious decision that came with growing old. That as she grew old like them that she would fall into the same choices that they had. That she was being gifted something for free.

Beware of those that come offering gifts and also beware of those who readily accept such things.

"Wait!" A voice would call out to her from behind. She would look back, the edges of the stone clutched in her hand would round at the edges but refuse to return to their former shape. Was it him? No, she would not wait. She would not dally long enough to know. "Manwitch!" Not Manwich, delicious canned meat destined for a mid 1980's home on a weeknight. A deathwitch that defied the standard that she knew, a man and a deathwitch. Yes, it was utterly absurd but she was quite mad. She failed to consider the fact that the edges had dulled in spite of the distance but remained. That there was perhaps more than one, that there was indeed another but that she was the the first. That Rock Friend the II no longer wished to be friends but rather estranged acquaintances.

"Erin, wait up!" The Gryffindor replied. Did she know him, actually yes but only vaguely. They were distant (as in third) cousins, as was the case with many pureblood members of society. They were distantly related on her father's side not that she knew Hess or the rest of his family for that matter very well. There was no love to be gained or lost, rather the uncomfortable truth that the Hess clan was no friend of hers but that was not enough of a reason alone to flee. No, she was running based on fear rather than contempt for the pureblood. Her family line never earned the Seer legacy, not that it appeared her father greatly cared as he was far too enamored in his studies. They were simply cast out of the inner circle but there were times where she wondered if her father cared. Where she wondered why, besides the carnal impulses of course he chose to allow a Veela to be the mother of both her and her brother. Why he did not at least try, cite a recessive trait and breed out the irregularities. She wondered how much better she could have been if she was less lovely and a bit more wise.

"No!" She snapped in a shout back, "you're a deathwitch!"

Her shrill accusations served hardly a a deterrent, not for Hess and not for... @Flash Holmwood? Yes, Slytherin Flash Holmwood, the allegedly cunning snake whom was likely misplaced as he seemed to belong better in House Ravenclaw. Erin would not stay, she would not fight but she would shout a final series of fading (as she ran further away) warnings to Holmwood -- take them or leave them. "Deathwitch! Deathwitch! Deathwitch! Deathwitch! Deathwitch!..."

Erin Leaves Topic -- Flash gets Hess

Erin would loudly carry on. Not that he had expected otherwise, the shrill woman loved her dramatics. A huff of air, an annoyance that could be to her benefit as she exhausted herself not only fleeing but also screaming nonsense. Nobody would believe her, why would they? The hyper-aggressive, half-mad, part-Veela was about as useful as a paperweight if they failed at even setting down papers.

The truth be told, he had nothing against the girl personally. She was pretty enough to look at, if it was not for the half-breed status assigned to the Veela blood that polluted her veins, she could have found a near-adequate match based on looks alone, personality always wanting. His pursuit was purely pragmatic, she had made a deal with a hag and was on the precipice of change. Like herding feral cats, treatment was a forgone option if there was a known treatment, a transformation was a rarely seen phenomenon so every thread of literature he had ever read suggested no treatment and the 'change' as they called it varied from resource to resource. If it was not for Vladimir's infernal gift, the girl would simply seem to be severely mentally ill.

He had considered reaching out to some of his friends, @Hugh Lowe a big enough guy, a veritable wall of physical force he would loathe to cross and @Galton Lansdale a good guy who would understand but probably do little more than offer morale support. he had elected otherwise for fear that they would not understand that even in the absence of sentiment that there would be some blind sense of injustice or moral failing. That killing was 'wrong' regardless of the reasons. A notion he mostly agreed with, but there were notable exceptions such as this.

Marion Davenport was indeed nearby, idly watching the scene from her place in the grass apparently unfussed by the odd scenario as it unfolded. As Erin fled, as Jürgen took chase.

Insert an annoyance, a barrier. A voice he did not know would call out with a tone of inquiry that the teen did not very much like. "What's your business with Miss Erin?" He would watch the girl accusing him of all people of being a deathwitch or a erm... manwitch, whatever that was. She was getting away, he could rush past the Snape in front of him and continue his pursuit but it would draw attention to the matter when for the most part her carrying on, even screaming was likely to be ignored.

"I am trying to get the crazy girl to chill out," he claimed. It was of course an exasperated lie, the tone of his voice seeped annoyance. "Can't you see that the girl is disturbed?" That was like stating that the grass was green or that water in its liquid form in any case was wet. "And now I wont be able to wrangle her for the nurse," yes like one would stuff a cat in a carrier to avoid claws to the eyes and face. Give her shots, check for ring worm. Spay her for the hope of future generations as one hopes she never reproduces like-modeled feral offspring.

@Flash Holmwood

Unsurprisingly, Erin continued on with her mad galivanting like a rabid track star, and the boy in front of him huffed indignantly for having been interrupted unceremoniously. He knew the boy not, but could observe he was shorter, seemingly around the same age, yet his unfamiliarity likely meant he was a year above or below. Marion on the other hand seemed barely cognizant, neither speaking nor seeming to take any umbrage or interest in the altercation. If Vlad's diary was to be believed, Marion had died years ago somewhere along the edge of the forest while on a date with Victor. So really, being awake and moving around was a feat in and of itself.

The stranger's stance on Flash's intervention was immediately apparent, he had been wronged and lost his chance. At what, he declared he was intending to wrangle Erin towards the nurse. To this, one of Flash's brows would raise incredulously. Meanwhile, Erin's screams of 'death witch' would scatter to the wind as her distance grew. Frankly, Erin had also been implicated as working with the hags, and while he did not know why, or how it might be linked to her deteriorating mind, he similarly did not see the point in delivering her to Nurse Brumby. Mungo's, maybe, but she would be better wrangled in the classes she still attended, or the Quidditch matches she still participated in. Alone, scared, while everyone else was in the castle? Either the boy was dumb or lying.

"I weep at thy good heart's oppression." Flash replied sardonically, rather than admit his conclusions and suspicions. Still, he brightened up and continued. "Better to leave Miss Erin's complex situation to the adults. You could have hurt yourself."

With the situation apparently resolved, Flash with look between the two again, an itching worry that they were in any way connected, making the whole situation feel far less coincidental. Still, he was not yet paranoid enough to believe everything had to be connected. Perhaps Erin had started talking to the boy and abruptly gone off the deep end, making him feel like defensive action was necessary. Flash did prefer to give the benefit of the doubt, though he would simultaneously not forget. This 'coincidence' would be entered in his journal for certain.

"What was your name? Have you perhaps met Miss Erin before?" Flash continued, gathering information while it was free for the taking. "She is a teammate of mine in Quidditch. I can assure you that you won't be the last person she calls a death witch."

The irony of such a statement being, of course, unintentional.

Yes Jürgen Hess was in fact lying. He was a liar. At least he was a liar when he had to be. Honesty was a symptom of the advantaged. He had the good fortune of keeping out of such matters, a boon of his advantage but on this day he was among the middling masses, the disadvantaged. For those that knew Jürgen, they would not consider him to be a 'bad' person, but that was common among villains. The rather quiet, nice, friendly neighbor that kept to himself. How astonished their friends and coworkers were to find out that they had worked alongside a monster for years if not decades.

Few burdened themselves with the notion that those moments did not define the monster, the monster was but a man who did what was necessary. There were moments when a man is forced to act. Forced to do the things that he did not want to do... yet he did none the less.

Erin was faster than Jürgen, it was as if the woman sprinted with a cinderblocks during her free-time. She did not have far to go, the perimeter of the lake within Hogwarts grounds. The fringe of the forbidden forest. The expanse of Hogwarts grounds. While the academic estate was rather grand in scale, she was limited and she would always be forced to return. Return to this incline, this hill. To find her way with her peers, even if dragged by a Prefect or a Professor. She had no actual choice and she had nowhere to run.

"I weep at thy good heart's oppression."

The cynicism that laced his words was palatable. Honestly it made the Gryffindor suspicious of Holmwood's intentions. He would look the boy over, no discernable, distinguished markings. The regalia (presumed since your returning from the cabins and just wandering around that you're not in uniform) of his house frustratingly absent. He had no actual idea who this boy was. They did not share a house, a year or any of the same social circles. He had his doubts that the boy was a pureblood, not that he had any specific qualms with the underprivileged. In fact, he found some to be great friends. But friends or not, society saw them as something else that mattered just a little bit less. His personal sentiments on the matter aside, in moments like these he was thankful for the distinction.

""Better to leave Miss Erin's complex situation to the adults. You could have hurt yourself."

The stranger 'suggested.' Jürgen Hess could only shake his head side-to-side. That truly would not do, "I thank you for your concern but I am unworried." The girl really did not stand a chance against him, that much he was confident. If he needed assistance, he would not be out here on this day alone. He really did not want to have to leave a trail of wreckage in his wake as he tried to take down the hag.

He looked in the direction the changeling ran. A quick calculation in his head -- was it more likely that she would return via the path that she ran or attempt to circumnavigate the lake and return on the opposite side. She was not going to return he reasoned, if she thinks that something dangerous is here then she would take another path back. Meet her on the other side. Perfect, the fatigue of a run, the aftereffect of an exhausted store of adrenaline. It would be troublesome to have to explain any damages to himself or his attire.

Set then, he silently announced.

"What was your name? Have you perhaps met Miss Erin before?"

Then his voice brought him back to the present. He still had to deal with this meddlesome boy. "Yeah, sorta. Distant cousins," he claimed. A truth actually, Hogwarts for purebloods was somewhat like an extended family reunion. Play a bit of the sympathy, speak enough truth without giving away his full intentions.

"She is a teammate of mine in Quidditch. I can assure you that you won't be the last person she calls a death witch."

"True... true," he would seem to lament. It was an actual sad case really. Not that there was much that could be done at this point, they did not know enough about the "change" to know how to prevent a transformation. "Then you have seen the deplorable state of her mind," he reinforced. "Which is why I need to complete what I set out to do before someone actually does get hurt" besides Erin of course.

Jürgen would start to walk towards the lake but in the opposite direction from the way she ran. He would never catch up and facing someone undergoing 'the change' was unpredictable if not dangerous. He had to preserve his stamina and rely on the range his wand offered in comparison to the girl's brute strength. As long as he never gets in melee with the soon-to-be hag before she is put down, this would be a cake-walk. He would reach his hand words his wand, patting it with his fingers to ascertain that the wand was there. A mental reminder to himself of what he had to do. An act of readiness.

"But I will tell Erin that your concern was warming," not really but what is a little white lie.

Hess' back is turned to Flash. He would be no more than a few feet away at this point. You are welcome to respond with words or whatever creative choices you might have. I have not done future threads with him on purpose since I do not know his status here.

@Flash Holmwood

Whoever the boy was, he must have been full of himself. Being 'unworried' about Erin seemed like a stretch after called her disturbed. "Hm." She was unpredictable, stronger than an ox, slippery, distracting, and determined. Flash wouldn't think anyone could take a look at her and consider themselves about to 'wrangle' her single-handedly. He might have considered that the boy was only trying to look cool and unfazed, but he had nothing to prove to Flash, who may never even cross paths with him again. As he looked up after the direction Erin went, Flash was given the chance to study his face unabashedly, look at his body language. He actually believed himself. His mind was elsewhere, but where was it?

When Flash called back his attention, he professed to be a distant cousin of hers, more of an association than many had to her. Still, the answer lacked bones, with a sorry 'sorta' thrown in. Following, he broke the veneer for a moment to return to the topic of Erin's mind, as well as his purpose for being there. This would be something of a surprise, as he professed to have set out to do something specifically, before something else happened. Strange that he would admit to premeditation after playing at taking her to the nurse for some outburst of madness. If Flash was being charitable, he could read this as 'helping her get to the nurse' as what he set out to do, but he wasn't feeling very charitable these days.

"What you set out to do, you say?" Flash would say, mostly to himself as his counterpart seemed eager to be free of the interaction.

Flash couldn't say for sure that this peer of his wasn't dumb, but he was calculated. He walked away, turned his back, touched the wand at his side. Flash reflexively desired to check his own as well, fear an easy recluse to even the slightly hint of a threat, but he didn't want to act irrationally. He had to remain calm, there had been no real escalation. Instead, he crossed his arms, almost as if to hold himself back.

"I think I'll be seeing her before you do. We'll start training soon. Maybe I can tell her you were looking for her." Flash said, the slightest itch of impatience in his tone. "You didn't mention your name?"

Flash was dangerously correct in his assessment. Correct regarding Erin and correct regarding Jürgen Hess. He caught the Gryffindor's mistakes, he caught onto the premeditation of the act he was about to commit, whatever it was. He understood that Erin had no friends. Nobody would reasonably pursue her out of want, obligation or bond. If they somehow chose to assist her by force, a skinny, well dressed young man doing so alone was a symptom of cockiness, madness or something else but none of them objectively 'good.'

"What you set out to do, you say?"

A cold shock moved through him. His body tensed for but a moment, that cold rush of adrenaline and the loss of color from his already pallid features but he did not break expression or stride. But hell -- he caught that error.

He started to walk away, he was going to get this over with in time for desert. This encounter, forgettable. His face, unremarkable. Erin's erratic behavior, pretty much expected.

"I think I'll be seeing her before you do. We'll start training soon. Maybe I can tell her you were looking for her."

Say what? That thing trained with people? He had a hard time believing it but had no reason to dismiss it off-handedly. This changed things a bit. He would stop. He knew that was impossible, Hess knew a few basic facets about the change. The madness would have made her a dangerous training partner. She would have eaten the boy alive if he was the appetizing and palatable sort, not entirely a metaphor in this case. If not, then there would not be an incredibly loss--

Good thing that wand was in hand's reach.

"You didn't mention your name?"

"Jürgen Hess," not that it would matter much. Again, he was not much for lying when he did not have to. "I am going to look for her by the lake, come with," the Gryffindor announced. It was the sort of invitation Flash should not accept but this was a conversation Flash should not be having. There was little doubt that he would abandon this line of questioning at this point given he was granted his first answer. "Marion, doll... perhaps you too?"

@Flash Holwood

"Fine fine," a voice would call from the cozy, cool grassy place a girl clad in pink. Yes, always some shade or pearly, petally pink with wedge sandals and excessive use of dangly shiny things. That is what girls these days think is super cute? It so totally probably is. Yes, Marion knew people saw with their eyes and believe what they see. Isn't that what they say? Seeing is believing.

Marion was the type that was rarely seen but when she was, she expected to be noticed. Considering what she was wearing, this was not an exception. Conventionally pretty, certainly not Veela, thin, tall, blonde. Just sitting there for no reason with a face full of makeup and hair nicely done. No, it was something someone might see in a muggle interpretation of a high school where not a single girl went bare faced unless they were doing an arc where they were dying of cancer.

"I was not supposed to," she admitted as she walked towards Flash.

A change of subject perhaps. "Work out buddies?" She eyed Hess as she said that, a maybe being communicated. "I can see that," she claimed as she eyed Flash as well, a glint that seemed out of place. Good lord young man, keep the thirsty ladies at bay for just a day. She did not appear to have a great deal of concern for her safety in the presence of either, not that she was dressed for a feral Erin wrangling situation either. Cute pink sundress, the sort one might wear to a friend's daytime wedding or a sunny seaside date, not relaxing on the grounds. Hell, the girl was showing a lot of leg for a cursed person. A lot of arm for that matter also. A bit of exposition here, Marion and Victor both were the alleged first victims of the curse that afflicts so many other members of the school. She was pretty healthy-looking for a girl cursed with a deadly, slowly spreading darkness for the past four years. Something was not right here, but one hint worthy of sharing -- she aint no 'doll.'

"You smell nice," she mentioned with a smile.