Running Through the Halls PV Oliver Thorn Closed

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Nails throbbing and teeth stinging, Oliver treaded the shadowy halls of Hogwarts Castle. The lycanthrope had grown accustomed to sneaking out of the castle before dark and returning unobserved by the time the sun began to rise, followed by the full moon receding. The early-riser had just returned from his monthly change near the forbidden forest. Pleasantly, the shelter he used provided him with a satisfactory good night's sleep, a welcomed difference from his usual uneasy and uncomfortable slumber outside the castle grounds. 

However, getting a good night's sleep during a full moon wasn't the only thing Oliver needed to worry about; Oliver still had to sneak into the castle grounds whilst avoiding any prefects and early-rising students. Fortunately, the Hogwarts curfew lasted until 6AM, giving Oliver a few moments to enter undetected but nonetheless a narrow enough timeframe that entering the commonroom undetected is a timely feat. The lycanthrope craved a bed above all else, wanting to lie down in the security of the castle walls. Jogging with shaky legs and a sore spine, his mind feeling alienated from his body as he suffered with the monthly repercussions of the transition. Oliver had been dealing with his condition for several months, but the side effects of the metamorphosis never get easier; the shift from nails to claws, hands to paws, nose to snout was unsettling to look at and agonising to experience.

Descending the castle's ambiguous halls, Oliver was familiar to his routine and knew he had plenty of time to slip into his dormitory, memorising his way to the Hufflepuff Commonroom and, subsequently, the kitchen beneath the Great Hall. He was careful not to move too quickly for fear of overworking his already tired body, but he was equally careful not to move too slowly for fear of getting caught out of bed.

As he turned the corner before the stairs dropping below the Great Hall, a sharp, painful jab struck Oliver in the side. He flew off his feet as the impact of a stiff, fast object picked him up cartoonishly and drove him several feet in the air. Instead of seeing his attacker as he swung through the air, Oliver saw only fresh parchment and a mixture of boiling and inky liquids emerge from a common satchel passing by his shoulders. As the bagging's materials blew past Oliver's shoulders, a face with fox-like hair and a ghostly, pale skin revealed. A neck appeared, followed by a body and arms clad in Oliver's attire, excepting for an emerald tie denoting the apparition as a Slytherin. Finally, legs sprang out of nothingness to complete the figure's abrupt appearance. seemingly from thin air.

Although the 1st Year has been at Hogwarts for several months, he has never before witnessed another student materialise out of thin air. His initial assumption was that it was a ghost, an apparition that had collided with the first year and then revealed its luminous form. However, this assumption is absurd; how could he have collided with a ghost, and where exactly did the blow come from? The ongoing effects of Oliver's transformation numbed the pain of the descent as he fell on his back between small, separated puddles of spilt liquids and soggy parchment. Lifting his head from the stone tiles of the corridor, driving his hand through his hair for any noticeable bumps or bruises, he heard a deeper, more adolescent voice speak to him, "Hey, are you hurt?" The older boy glanced at Oliver with a worried expression, matching the words he had heard. Oliver wafted his head side to side, visually picking up his surroundings he noticed a sleek, high-quality broomstick static on the tiles between Oliver and the supposed apparition.

"I-I'm fine, I don't feel any terrible pain so I think I can walk it off."

In an attempt to allay the teenager's worries, Oliver stated that while he didn't feel much pain. However, it was primarily due to being preoccupied by his transformation repercussions, which he tried to gloss over in case the lad pressed him more on why he already felt agony. Oliver stared frantically at the Slytherin, his house had already given Oliver the distinct concept that the early-riser was out-of-bed for nasty reasonings, not wanting to be a part of any scheme he had disturbed from the sly fox. Oliver understood he couldn't just walk away; Slytherins were known for their serpent tongue, speaking in lies and gossip; if Oliver simply walked away, the youngster would snitch on him, whether or not he reports him.

"What are you planning?" I noticed those boiling concoctions; you were planning something devious, and I'm here to put an end to it!"

Thick brows furrowed upon hearing that the other boy didn't feel any 'terrible' pain, so he thought he could walk it off. That didn't sound very reassuring to Jack at all. "Are you sure? I know a couple of minor healing spells if you need them," he said, taking out his wand to clean up some of the broken bottles and spilled potions littering the floor. With a few 'Scourgify's here and a few 'Reparo's there, that part of the mess was taken care of and he proceeded to collect his belongings to put back in his satchel.

When the Hufflepuff spoke again, however, Jack paused in his actions, regarding the light olive-skinned brunet with a perplexed expression. "'Planning'?" he repeated, voice saturated in confusion. "Oh, my potions? These were just for class. Looks like I'll have to brew most of them all over again, though. My fault for not paying attention to where I was flying."

At that, he fixed the badger with a sly smirk. "Come to think of it, how do I know you're not the one planning something devious? You're just as suspicious as I am sneaking around and hurrying through the corridors this early in the morning. Most students aren't even awake yet, I'll bet. What are you up to?"

@Oliver Thorn

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Planning to frame his presence in the hallway as an act of heroism to stop the Slytherin, The 1st Year was dumb-founded to hear the ginger villain declare he was merely out for academic purposes. Oliver wondered if the unlawful student was bluffing, whether he was using the crafty tongue he shared with his fellow residents of the school's dungeons to smooth-talk his way out of trouble. Oliver had been verbally disarmed as the Slytherin countered with a similar retort; he knew his situation was just as suspicious as the fox's; the professors would understand Oliver's reason for being out of the dormrooms, but other students wouldn't; the fox could easily ruin Oliver's reputation by lighting the match that would lead to his lycanthropy status being revealed. Struggling to stand on his own two feet, Oliver responded confidently, disguising the fact that he was backed up against a wall.

"That's rich coming from someone like you; who would they suspect if a professor walked straight through here? A Hufflepuff or a Slytherin, particularly one who can appear to vanish into thin air and ride through the halls on a quiet broom."

Oliver wished to show he was in control of the scenario, being the more innocent-looking student of the two. It was evident from the senior's cool demeanour to the crash and his preparedness to scour the hallways at dawn that he was experienced in breaking the rules.

"And I doubt this is your first rodeo; haven't you done some unlawful activities before? You are far too comfortable with yourself to not be."

Oliver rambled thoughtlessly, trying to come up with something to say to satisfy the boy's curiosity about Oliver's motives.

"So what if I intended to do something negative? You clearly have experience in that as well, so keep your nose out of other people's business; you should know how it feels to have your objectives blown away by some duffus."

Oliver, deciding that it was better to play along with the boy's superstition regarding what he was doing than to allow him time to figure out his condition, played the devious student, hoping that the Slytherin wouldn't snitch on him out of relatability or he would as well.

Jack studied the younger boy before him, both amused and curious. Instead of seeming angry that the Slytherin had crashed into him, he had shrugged off Jack's concern and insisted he was fine. Then, however, he suddenly started acting suspicious of the upperclassman as if he had only just remembered to do so. And then he acted as though he were going to thwart him like some common comic book hero out to thwart the evil plot of some nefarious villain.

It wasn't as though the older boy was any stranger to people treating him different or suspecting him of things because of his Hogwarts house, but he hadn't experienced that discrimination in a while. It almost made him want to play along with the Hufflepuff's preconceived notions of him. Almost.

"Listen," Jack began with a huff of amusement, picking up his broom to lean on it. "I didn't 'vanish' into thin air. I was wearing an invisibility cloak. But you've got a point. If they found out I had one on me, they'd probably be all the more suspicious of what I was using it for." He thoughtfully tapped his chin as he reached over to retrieve his cloak. "I don't intend to get caught by a professor here if I can help it, though."

Grinning, he stepped up to the stranger, draping his cloak over the bag hanging at his side. "You're quite observant, aren't you? And intelligent, I see. But how ironic that you're telling me to keep out of other people's business when you're the one who decided to be nosy first by asking what I was planning. Not only that, but you were brazen enough to tell me that you were here to put an end to it. Is that still the case?" He cocked his head with an appraising look. "Or have you changed your mind?"

The Welsh student scratched his head. "Regarding doing something 'negative', I'm curious as to what your idea of negative is. I personally wouldn't say I have experience with such a thing, but now you have me wondering what you had in mind concerning your intentions."

@Oliver Thorn

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Cowardly, Oliver avoided making eye contact with his level-headed foe by glancing down at the stone tiles of the corridor. It was careless of him to portray himself as a hero; out of bed to stop the conniving adolescent, but when that proved futile, he resorted to a villainous persona. He couldn't expect the shift to go well in his circumstances. Oliver was only making matters worse for himself, digging himself an even deeper hole.

Watching as the student casually crush his allegations and notions, erasing the danger he was in and eliminating all leverage the first year had. With what felt like a poisonous hiss, the Slytherin completed his avalanche of remarks and retorts with the last horrible words Oliver had hoped to hear, the lad pushed on the query of what his intentions were, in other words: Why was Oliver out of bed.

"Why'd you wanna know so bad? so you have some fresh news for your fellow Slytherins I bet."

Oliver responded, yet his firm voice came out as a shallow whimper, the first year continued staring at the stone floor, his face not presented to the curious boy. Clearly, lying was not getting Oliver anywhere. Collecting himself, the first year pondered whether telling the truth would ultimately suffice; the Slytherin, at worst, could frame Oliver's lycanthropy as the Armageddon of Hogwarts, at best, he keeps his mouth shut. Testing the boys reaction, Oliver lifted his head, looking at the quizzical individual with a serious gaze.

"Just so you know, my intentions aren't actually bad, don't go spreading misinformation. Along with that the professors know I'm out and they would love it if I made it back to the commonroom by now."

Trying to conceal his lycanthropy, Oliver kept his reason for being out anonymous but made broad aspects of his expedition out of the Hufflepuff Dorms public.

"Ultimately, I'm just doing what the school wants me to do; in a way, I'm helping the school by occasionally deviating from the rules."

At the younger boy's response to his question with a question of his own, Jack sneered and shook his head. "I'm probably not as chummy with my fellow Slytherins as you might think. The main reason I wanted to know was if I could help you. You don't seem like a bad kid and I feel bad for flying into you like that. I thought I could help make it up to you."

From the Hufflepuff's obvious body language and the tell-tale intonations of his voice, the Slytherin could guess the underclassmen felt threatened by him and he wanted to make it clear he had no reason to. It might have been nice feeling like he had a bit of power over what at first seemed like a somewhat haughty individual, but once it became clear that said individual had merely been bluffing, perhaps as a result of feeling threatened, Jack couldn't help but feel sorry for him. He had no delusions about how difficult it would be to get the other boy to trust him at this point, however.

"First you act like you want to save the school from me, then you imply you had negative intentions, and now you deny that your intentions were ever bad at all," the Welsh boy chuckled, running a hand through his hair as he appraised the badger. "I'm not sure what to believe from your mouth any more."

Sighing, Jack noted, "I hate liars, you know, but I suppose you didn't actually lie to me outright; just made implications." The comment about 'helping the school by occasionally deviating from the rules' had him laughing in earnest all over again. "Now that's one I haven't heard before. How do you figure that? And what rules are you deviating from that is helping the school? Rules on curfew?" He gave the skinny child an incredulous grin.

"Alright, if the professors know you're out and you're doing what the school wants you to, then you have no reason to keep that information from me, do you? After all, if you're telling the truth, it's not like I could use that to get you into trouble. In fact, like I said, I could even help you if you'll allow it. I'd just like to understand what's going on."

@Oliver Thorn

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The Slytherin responded, presenting himself as harmless and compassionate; the lad continued to press the lycanthrope on his secret, the teenager clearly seeing through Oliver's speech, wanting details on what he kept secret. The youngster's voice rang therapeutic and understanding in Oliver's head, his quick comment on resenting liars stamped assurance in the first year's mind. Beginning to consider if it was worth telling the whole truth, the boy quoted that if the professors truly knew of Oliver's motive, it wasn't worth hiding; clearly the boy didn't understand there was conditions that socially exile wizards and witches, Oliver had barely acknowledged his condition but couldn't imagine how other classmates could respond.

"You're wrong! what few adults know isn't worth an entire castle of teenagers knowing."

His voice roared, booming through the barren corridors, reminding him that it was just him and the Slytherin up this early, a reality that was due to change in minutes. Oliver had wasted enough time chatting to the allegedly kind fox, thinking of sloppy responses to climb out of his hole; it wouldn't matter if he offered the best retort conceivable shortly afterwards, for the empty, shadowy halls of the castle will soon be flooded with the marching of starving, early risers. Instead of fighting his way to assuring the cunning fox didn't slip word about Oliver, He was better off bolting for it; it wouldn't matter soon enough, if a flowing river of students made their way to the great hall, resulting in spotting the supposed vigilante.

"I've had enough! go tell your fellow snakes if you will, I'm going back to my dormroom before I get caught with you."

The child broke eye contact with the other boy, and as he gathered speed, he passed him with great hurry, gradually converting his fast-paced walk into a sprint. However, Oliver did not make it to the stairwells before a great surge of pain cut upwards from his feet towards his hip, quickly advancing to his torso where it gripped agonisingly on an obvious bruise from the exterior of his abdomen, as-if his leg was abruptly sprained from kicking into the tiles, Oliver slipped onto his back, embracing his leg and contracting inwards to cover his new-found bruise. The numbing sensation of his transformation was quickly overtaken by a much more perilous spike of pain. To relieve his acute agony, the child gritted his teeth to concentrate on the chilly tile surface as well as the tension in his jaw.

Jack's thick brows shot up in surprise at the other boy's adamant declaration. However, upon considering it, he knew the kid was right.

"Alright, you've got a point, there," he sighed, thinking for a moment. This boy certainly was stubborn. That, and they were running out of time. What could Jack do to get him to trust him? Just then, a thought occurred to him and he snapped his fingers. His idea wasn't foolproof, but he figured he would at least try. Reaching under his cloak into his bag, he fished around for a little while until he finally pulled something out and held it up for the Hufflepuff to see.

"See this?" he asked, waving what looked like some sort of plastic poker chip in the air. "This is a favor token. I give them to people I owe favors to and they can use them whenever they want. If you tell me what you're out here for, not only will I help you and promise not to tell anyone else, but I'll give you this token and you can use it whenever you like. Sound fair?"

He flipped the coin up into the air and caught it again. "Of course, if you really don't want to tell me, we could just promise each other we won't tell anyone else that we saw one another and continue on our respective ways. That was actually what I had been intending from the beginning until someone started accusing me of nefarious plots and threatening not to let me get away with them."

Before the talkative teen could get another word out to try to convince his underclassman, though, the younger boy announced that he had had enough and dared Jack to 'go tell his fellow snakes if he would' because he was going back to his dorm room before he got caught with Jack.

The redhead blinked dumbfoundedly, watching the badger rapidly pass him by with growing speed. He was just about to shake his head, sigh, and carry on in his own direction when he heard a sound of someone hitting the stone ground. Jack looked up again to see the boy who had just passed him on his back and clutching his leg, his body curling in on itself.

"Bloody hell, I knew you weren't as fine as you made yourself out to be," he muttered as he dashed toward the fallen student, his bag bouncing heavily against his hip as he went. Kneeling beside the kid, he set his broom down and pocketed his token before taking out his wand. "Episkey," he incanted, concentrating on where he thought his broom had rammed into the boy earlier.

@Oliver Thorn