Most people at summer camp were enjoying the fair weather, taking part in sports, activities, and generally soaking up the carefree atmosphere of the campgrounds. George Henry was sitting alone with a chess board on a little table in front of him, practicing against his pieces. It had been quite a long time since he had played chess. In fact, the pieces on the board had not seen the light of day since George's first year, when he took them out for a match in the library and then never, ever played with them again.

George had selected the black set of pieces to be his own for this practice match, offering the white pieces free reign of themselves to choose what moves they took. This offered them a significant advantage, as each one decided that it was their turn to move during each turn. By the time George had calmed them all down, the knights and their queen had already checkmated him, and both of the white bishops were on black spaces, though neither would confess that they had moved out of line. Freedom was simply not an option for a wizard chess set - they could not be trusted with their own independence.

"Knight to E4!" commanded the white king. The white knight leaped, passing over his own pawns, who looked up in awe. The knight landed on the white king's space and promptly smashed him off of the board with his sword.

"You can't do that!" George protested, sighing as he leaned over to pick up the white king from the ground. The battered monarch remained stiff and unmoving, still holding his 'dead' pose.

"You said we could do as we pleased," retorted the knight.

"As in - whatever chess move you please," George groaned, exasperated. While the idea of a living chess set was charming in principle, in practice it was frustrating. Sometimes you just needed an object to be inanimate. "You can't take out your own king. That's not real chess."

"Fascist!" the knight hissed. George rolled his eyes as he set the pieces back into their starting positions, looking up from his table for someone passing by that might be intelligent enough to practice against. His eyes landed on @Dealla Prince, a Ravenclaw girl in his year. While they had never really spent much time together, he was familiar with her work on the Headliner, as well as her work in kissing George's best friends.

"Hey!" he called to her. Perhaps they would prefer Dealla as a commander - the queen was far better than the king in chess, anyway. He was always curious why the king wasn't the most powerful piece - but considering what he had learned from his home life, it was generally the queen who got things done. "Can you please help me? My chess pieces won't behave. They want a new liege."

Dee was, for once, simply enjoying the fair weather. Although she hadn't signed up for all too many activities this year - duelling and her ongoing search for the hidden mixed race students at this school were keeping her busy - there was enough time for all of that and still take some time off, lounging around and simply chatting with friends or strangers alike. The hum of several languages was always in the air whenever there were more than three students present; it gave the camp an exotic, colourful feel that Dee found she quite enjoyed.

This was one of those not-so-busy times, and Dee was strolling through the camp, on the lookout for one of her friends, her boyfriend, or even just an interesting looking stranger. Hence, when a vaguely familiar voice came begging for help, Dee changed direction readily, before she'd even fully recognised the person it belonged to.

George Henry was a familiar face, as were most students in her year at this point. Three years of occasional classes together would do that. Although she was vaguely aware that they had friends in common - Jack, most prominently - somehow their paths hadn't much crossed. It seemed that was about to change, at least for a moment.

She cocked her head at George's request, then looked down at the chaotic state of the chessboard and what seemed to be a full on hostile takeover, the white pieces herding the black ones into a corner while their queen held a sword to the black king's throat. Neat.

"Do they?" she questioned, one corner of her mouth quirking up. "Wouldn't wanna end up like that poor king. Perhaps they would prefer a democracy?" She took a seat across from George anyway, then reached out to flick the white queen, the piece toppling over from the impact. When some of the other chess pieces turned on her in indignation, she knocked them over, too, laying waste to their rank within seconds. Honestly, she'd always been more of a dictator.

"New set?" she asked, pinching one of the knights between two fingers and tipping him far enough that he would fall should she let go. "I heard that they make trouble sometimes." Not that she'd know - while Sylvain had gifted her a set after they had played together, it had admittedly not seen much use.

"You can't do that!" one of the bishops shouted up at her finally, having gotten himself back into an upright position, and she finally relented, setting the knight down again.

The bishop was given an innocent smile. "Says who?" she wanted to know. "Didn't see you sticking to any rules now, did you?"

Then, ignoring any further protests, she looked up at George, still looking amused. "Did you just want help getting them to stop revolting or did you want to play? Gotta warn you, I don't have a lot of practice." She lacked the patience for chess, usually.

@George Henry

@Dealla Prince

"You can't give them a democracy. They're a pack of animals," George said, something of a dictator himself. He nodded in approval as Dee began executing the unruly pieces with merciless flicks of her fingers, leaving them slain in a pile on the board. Truly a harrowing vision of a failed rebellion, though satisfying if you were the would-be autocrats, as Dee and George were. "I've actually had them for quite a while. Clearly I've been too permissive of a leader."

The pieces showed some signs of their age, the board worn with the heavy steps of its soldiers. He watched as they organized themselves back into their ranks, not wanting to incur the wrath of Dee should they step out of line again. George began picking up the black pieces and helping them back into position on his side of the board. "Let's have a game. It might get them to play nice. And remind them how to play chess."

An appreciative nod was given to Dee as the chess pieces seemed more inclined to cooperate when shown the consequences that could await. "I don't either. As you can see. I haven't played since my first year... but I thought I probably should. Plus, I'm very bored, so..." he grumbled. "I'd be glad to play again. Especially if you aren't very good."

The game began once all the pieces and their commanders had settled in. George prompted Dee to make her move with a quick nod and reminder that "white goes first". There was no timer to keep them quick on their feet. In fact the pieces were likely going to become impatient, as George preferred focusing on the conversation more than contemplating his next move. "I'm surprised I haven't seen you around the tent yet. Maybe I just have good timing... I've already been subjected to too much of Winnie and her boyfriend making out."

Despite his own interest in boys, he still held many immature attitudes toward romance in general. Hand-holding was sweet, if done in private, but kissing was just gross. Especially if you subjected everyone in the tent to your incessant kissing. "It's disgusting," he said, if that were unclear from his grimace and wrinkled nose.

"Are you still going to be writing next year, by the way? I'm going through withdrawals without any news to read besides the Prophet, and the Prophet is rubbish these days. It's a rag. I loved your article on Scarab." He was quite sure that attitudes toward the Prophet since his days on the Headliner were largely unchanged. It had been rubbish for three years, now. It was a wonder the ministry still let them publish. Not much of a wonder, considering the other things hat the ministry permitted, but still a flagrant oversight.

Contemplating the board for a moment, Dee tried to recall vague memories of opening strategies. She really didn't play enough to consider herself a proficient player, but that didn't mean she didn't want to be good at it when she did deign to sit down for a match. (Whether it would manage to keep her attention through its entirety was again a different question.) "Pawn to E4," she commanded, finally, and the piece sprang into action, moving two squares towards the black side of the board. It was a common opening move, giving some flexible choices to follow up.

Apparently at least the pawns had been impressed by her little assault, and the other pieces were so far staying on their squares, so perhaps the demonstration had served its purpose.

"Why are you bored?" she asked, still staring at the board and tapping her nose in thought. Boredom wasn't a state she was in very often, and if, she usually found something to amuse herself with rather quickly. Only boring people got bored and didn't know what to do about it.

The complaint about Winnie and her boyfriend drew a snort. "She has questionable taste in guys," Dee noted. "Or just... questionable taste in general." She still couldn't believe Winnie was actually dating that guy, but couldn't be bothered to comment on it. None of her business, really. "But no, I'm not around your tent much." Any kissing Jack and Dee were doing happened elsewhere. "Don't trust some of its occupants." She would've preferred if Jack wasn't staying there, either, but after she had decided to join Howard's tent instead of staying with her friends, when she had found out where Jack was sleeping, it had already been too late.

Pausing for a moment, Dee then looked up from the board to judge George's expression. "Is Marion there a lot?" she wanted to know, attempting to seem casual. She wasn't a very good actress though, never had been, and the facade was likely rather transparent to a keen observer. Is my boyfriend in much danger of being eaten by a hag, was the real question she was asking, but it didn't seem like the right moment to share that little tidbit. Well, Jack or anyone else staying there. But mostly Jack.

The disgusted grimace on his face was likely still in response to his own descriptions of Winnie and Mathias snogging rather than her question, and Dee giggled at his face. "Nauseating," she agreed, which was at least partially true. As long as it wasn't referring to her, of course, that was an entirely different thing.

"Oh, yeah, not planning to leave the Headliner anytime soon," Dee replied, a little off-balance by the sudden inquiry. The conflicting feelings about her other responsibilities that had been simmering darkly in her stomach for a few weeks now were a different question, but George hadn't asked about those. No, there was too much she still had to find out, still had to write to consider giving up her spot as a reporter for the Headliner.

Those gloomy thoughts were quickly vanquished by George's next comment, and Dee perked up visibly. "You're absolutely right," she agreed wholeheartedly. "Anyone still believing what the Prophet writes needs a reality check, honestly. The things they write about mixed race people make me feel sick." It was a topic she was passionate about, and that too was clear in her expression and bearing. "But many people don't question it at all." A sunny smile broke out on her face and she pointed at George. "Glad my articles are reaching at least part of the student body, that's what they're for... Howard and I are also planning more interactive things to get people actually thinking about what they believe." She paused, considering for a moment, then gave George a calculating glance. "So, what do you think about S.C.A.R.A.B.?"

@George Henry

George was impressed with himself for recognizing Dee's opening move, responding with a flexible opening move of his own. He had the benefit of only half-recalling most of the strategies he had read about, so he was difficult to predict. Both parties were beneficiaries of beginner's luck in this instance, however. More impressive than her opening was her ability to command the little buggers on her side of the board. George glared down at them. Why wasn't he given such good behaviour?

"Because I've just been reading," he admitted with a shrug. Not the most exciting way one could spend a summer. Though nor was chess, and yet here they were, playing the least physically demanding sport in the world on a beautiful day. Unlike muggle chess, the players did not even need to move their hands. "And I haven't got anyone to hang out with. "

Questionable taste in guys? George smirked across at Dealla and raised his eyebrows, giving her a look up and down. She might be able to tell what he was thinking - 'says you.' But he did not voice the little joke aside from giggling at her comment.

Didn't trust some of the occupants, however? He had gotten a similar feeling from Pride, but not from many of the others. Meenauh and Galton were downright trustworthy if his past experience was anything to go by, with one being a very skilled wizard, the other being too insane to pose much of a threat on purpose. In fact, both descriptions could apply to either.

The boy looked skeptical when Dee mentioned her mistrust and immediately followed up with a question about the pretty muggleborn girl. Yes, Marion. She was there a lot. Too much, in fact. George's brow tensed and arched ever so slightly. "Yes... what's the matter with Marion?" he asked, leaning in over the board and lowering his voice so they could gossip in broad daylight. "Is she not just like, a really pretty muggleborn?"

'Really pretty' came with obvious resentment from George. He was always jealous when people could grab attention more than him, especially when they did it without trying. (Even more when they got it from boys.) "I guess she's there as much as anyone else. I haven't really tried making friends with her," he shrugged, happy to play informant for a member of the Headliner.

Much more upbeat about the political discussion than gossiping about Marion, George sat back and lifted his head up, smiling across at Dee. "It's disgusting. I don't know how anyone can read that stuff and not realize that something is wrong with those writers," George said, nodding. God, he could just sit here agreeing with Dee all day about politics and it would be the best day ever. His thoughts on SCARAB were a complicated issue, however. "I don't know... I like their goals on paper, but... it's weird, all the stuff that seems to happen around them. I guess I like them in principle. Obviously I think everyone should get to go to Hogwarts, and stuff... I can't imagine ever telling someone they couldn't come to Hogwarts. And squibs deserve, um..." No, not sympathy. "...respect."

"That does sound boring," Dee agreed, then looked up with a frown. He didn't have anyone to hang out with? That sounded... unlikely. Wasn't he friends with Jack? And Jake. And... well, he probably knew more people than that, but who knew, some people were just loners, not that he seemed like it to her. She didn't pry though, not because she had any concerns about hurting possible feelings or putting her nose where it didn't belong, but because frankly, it didn't seem that important. "You got me now," she replied easily, shrugging it off and giving him a sunny smile.

The glance and smirk she was giving went skillfully without notice, a mix of willful ignorance and genuine inattention. Comparing Matt and Jack was absurd, anyway. While Jack may have his flaws (he was not the sharpest tool in the shed, despite his fondness for hammers, and Dee would have a hard time denying it), he was loyal and protective, and although Dee could of course take care of herself perfectly fine and would never need any help ever, she could still appreciate this. Also, he had a nice face and made her stomach flutter when he smiled at her. Matt was, from what she'd seen, just an ass, who'd treated Winnie like shit on their first meeting. Two different worlds, clearly.

Yes was not really the answer she'd wanted to her question about Marion, and she would have appreciated a few more details, but she supposed she couldn't blame him for being curious at the question. Dee blinked, not sure where Marion's blood status had come into the conversation, nor had she been aware of said status. It didn't matter anyway, if Marion had ever been anything but a hag, that girl was gone, she was pretty sure. As had been the case with Victor.

She made a face, nose wrinkled. "No, believe me, she's nothing as simple as that." Couldn't deny the pretty part, to her chagrin, but she remembered thinking how pretty the girl was herself when she'd met her in London that first time. "She's..." Dee paused, glancing around in a way that would immediately make clear to anyone watching that secrets were being shared over this game of chess. Still, she hesitated. While she still wasn't convinced that it was the right thing to do, she had promised Flash to not spread her knowledge around. But... She did think that warning more people was a good decision, and she didn't have to tell him about Flash after all. Whether George would believe her was a different question altogether. It was easy to look at Marion and take her only for what you could see. Dee had.

Leaning forward herself, Dee lowered her voice. "I can't tell you how I know this, it might be dangerous for the people who told me but... Marion isn't what she appears to be. She's something masquerading as a student, she's dangerous." She paused, still unwilling to speak the word but feeling like she had to make it more clear. "Likes the taste of children." Unsure of what George knew about Hogwarts' history with the creatures, she watched him for a reaction, a spark of recognition that would say he'd caught her meaning.

Ranting about the Prophet was a much happier (in a way) topic, and one that Dee could easily fall into and stay on time and time again. She nodded at his comment on SCARAB. "No, yeah, that's very reasonable," she agreed. "I still don't know what to make of them myself, I just think there's more to them than meets the eye... More than the Prophet prints, at the very least." She rested her chin in her hand, fingers tapping thoughtfully.

"I've been having a hard time finding out more. Howard suggested writing to SCARAB's leaders directly, since my contact in the group seemed hesitant to get us involved. I'm not sure if it was him being concerned about drawing students into the conflict or if that actually came from the people I asked about... or if there is just more he didn't tell me." Honestly, she had also not done much about it in the past few months, though, too busy writing articles for the Headliner and putting together the event Howard and she were setting up. There was also the fact that she didn't quite know what to make of Marion's connection to SCAR, as that had been how Dee had met Professor Mulrain in the first place. It made it harder to trust the Professor, at the very least.

@George Henry

"That's sweet," George said, grinning back at Dee when she flashed that sunny smile. It was true there were probably people he could get to hang out with him, although he had been very worried about overstaying his welcome with them lately. He'd pushed Jake too far. The rest were only a matter of time. The chess game sat ignored between them, impatient pieces idling on their spaces.

No time to be worrying about your social life at Hogwarts, of course. Apparently, Marion was nothing so... simple. George furrowed his brow again, narrowing his eyes at Dee. Nothing so simple? She had seemed so unbelievably simple when he had seen her. Just all pretty and sweet and nothing else other than that... although maybe he hadn't been paying enough attention. When the time came to share secrets, George leaned in, intrigued. George had suspected for a long time that some Hogwarts students were secretly agents from other schools, or the Ministry, or foreign ministries - but he had not suspected this.

George's eyes opened wide as Dee revealed the truth. He went through a rapid cycle of emotions - shock, fear, and then anger, directed at her. "And you're letting Jack sleep in there? Does he know?!" he murmured, leaning in close over the board as the pieces craned their necks to hear. "And you let me sleep in there?!"

The boy paused, blinking and shaking his head as he struggled to process it. Hags at Hogwarts, sure. But as students? What were their plans? For all he knew, she could be brushing the hair off his pillow to make a voodoo doll out of them. This would not do. Surely they had to take action against this threat to protect themselves, let alone the younger students who might not even know what a hag was. "So- so what, are we like, gonna tell anybody... or like... kill it?" George asked quietly. Quite blunt.

Of course, just because he had proposed murdering another student didn't mean the conversation about the news had to end! "...You have a contact in SCARAB?" George asked. "If you need a go-between I'll write letters to anybody. I was going to write in to the Prophet but I kind of want to work there when I graduate, so I don't want to get like... blacklisted."

Clearly George had caught onto her meaning, not that it had been very subtle. Obviously familiar with the hag threat to the school, good, she didn't have to explain that stuff then. Dee was terrible at that sort of thing, the one time she had mentioned the dark threats to Hogwarts to a younger student it had been cheerful and offhand and likely left the kid traumatised worse than necessary.

What she had not expected was the outburst of accusations against her. Taken aback, Dee stared at George for a moment. That seemed unfair, although she couldn't quite articulate why. Truth was, the thought of just telling the other students in that tent that Marion is a hag, get outta there had never even crossed her mind. To Dee's knowledge, Marion didn't know that she knew about her and until Jack (not her Jack, the other one) and her were ready to do something about it, it was better it stay that way.

For some reason she thought that might not be the smartest thing to say at the moment, though. "I'm not letting Jack do anything!" she hissed back, slightly offended. "How was I supposed to know that the minute I didn't pay attention he'd sign up to a tent with a hag? The two don't even know each other, how did they end up in the same tent?" That question was a mystery to her, although the answer was likely that Marion knew someone who knew someone who knew someone who knew Jack and it had just been a string being tugged that had her boyfriend stumbling into this mess.

"He doesn't know," she continued a little more calmly, her lips pressed together. There was a slight hunch to her shoulders now. Truthfully, she'd barely told Jack anything of importance, whether it was about hags or S.C.A.R.A.B. or her family. Not because she didn't trust him but because their relationship was fun and easy and she was scared of weighing it down. Scared that Jack wouldn't want to know all the baggage and politics she carried around these days. "Safer that way." For him, or her? It was an excuse, either way.

George's next question was, in Dee's eyes, a very sensible one. Her reaction had been quite similar. Tell the professors? Hunt her down and confront her?

She'd done neither so far, on advice of Jack Burnett and due to the little obligation she felt to her promise to Flash, although she still wasn't sure it was a good call. While the boys had both voiced concerns about trusting the Hogwarts staff, there were some that Dee did trust, would trust with this. Professor Iwasaki, for one, Wickham-Deakin more recently.

The second part was under works [to be detailed in a thread yet unwritten but coming soon^TM]. It was likely better to stay quiet until then.

Her answer was a different one, though. "How do you even kill a hag?" she asked, a little amused. "How do we will a hag? Not to doubt my or your abilities," she had no clue about George's abilities but it seemed polite to mention those, too, "but considering what I've seen, not sure we're a match in an outright fight." She sighed, leaning back and staring down at the chess board, taking a moment to command one of her pieces to move. It made what she interpreted as a rude gesture towards her but obeyed nonetheless. Had her other pieces been standing like this before?

"I've been wanting to tell more people," she admitted. "But I promised that I wouldn't go around telling everyone, and specifically not professors." Not meaning she hadn't told anyone, George was proof of that, but definitely not as many people as she would have otherwise. "And there's... something one of my friends wants to try." Notwithstanding the fact that he was refusing to admit they were friends. "If that doesn't work out... I don't know. Maybe I'll tell Professor Iwasaki after all."

She gave George a long, considering glance. Perhaps having more backup wouldn't be a bad idea after all... but maybe she should talk to him for more than five minutes before dragging him into that. Quite possible he would end up being more in the way than helping.

The conversation about SCARAB was easier; any secrets there were hers to tell, and she never minded sharing. "I do! Met him two years ago in London, he's a professor of literature at the University of Edinburgh, but also a Squib and a part-giant. Hold on a second." Grabbing her satchel, she rummaged for a few seconds before taking out a notebook that had become one of her most valuable possessions over the last half year or so. It contained all her research on SCAR and their follow-up model, notes for her articles, the plans she'd made with Howard, and any and all letters received on the subject. Taking out two sheets of paper, she handed them to George to read if he wanted to. They were thin, smooth, the type of paper Muggles used to print on. Folded twice, they were showing signs of having been handled frequently, unfolded and folded, the crease was starting to tear at the edges.

It seemed her 'friend of a friend of a friend' theory wasn't too far off, although Dee also wasn't aware of any connection between Winnie and Marion. Or Matt and Marion. Perhaps she should be more concerned, but who even had time to worry about that many people?

Thankfully, George seemed to agree with her assessment of keeping Jack out of it, and Dee relaxed slightly, leaning back in her chair and poking idly at one of the chess pieces which didn't seem too excited about the incessant nudging. If her motivations had been selfish or not didn't matter anymore when someone else agreed, right?

"I don't know, either," she admitted. "There should be some way to kill them, right? Beheading might work? I've never actually fought one before, and books don't exactly give manuals on how to go hag hunting. I've seen the effects their curses can have, though." She shuddered, thinking back. Flash was miserable, but that was by far not the worst that came out of the Forbidden Forest. "It's not... I don't know."

Of course George would show more interest in who she'd given her word to, Dee would have, too. She was about to wave it off, vaguely mention an affected student who was scared of retaliation (rightfully so?), but then straightened up at the accusation. "No, I haven't made any deals with them!" she replied, indignant. "I'm not an idiot." It was true, she hadn't. Didn't mean she wasn't an idiot, of course, but she certainly didn't think of herself as one. "No, it's someone who... had an encounter with her, and is still suffering the effects." They were working on helping him, but it was slow going.

"I suppose they do?" Dee asked, shrugging at George's inquiry about Professor Mulrain's work accommodations. She'd never thought that far. "They think he has some kind of condition that explains why he's so tall, I don't remember what it was called." Watching as George read through the letters, Dee absently nudged one of her pieces forward, keeping up the appearance of a match that both of them had abandoned as soon as it had started. She huffed slightly at the mention of Marion. "Yeah, she's the reason I stumbled into that meeting," she admitted. "But I don't think... I hope he doesn't know about her." It was perturbing, Marion's association with the group, and Dee still didn't know what to make of it. It didn't make it easier to trust them, though.

"There was one, at least," she replied to George's question about clubs for mixed race students. "I interviewed the founder for the Headliner a while ago, but I don't think it ever gained traction, and I think Cody left the school. Howard and I are planning a sort of hangout with mixed race students when the new year starts, though." She was still hunting for people willing to participate and be open about their heritage, but had gotten a decent turnout at this point. "You should come."