Unlicensed Driver (Hogwarts Headmaster Quest)

You stare, the woman's sudden entry stunning you for a moment. Whoever she is, she doesn't seem to be hostile -- drawn wand notwithstanding.

"Yes? Can I--"

Her eyes lock with yours as her wand aims quicker than you can react, the tip rising and falling with practiced surety as she silently conjures a crimson bolt. You hurl yourself aside, your awkwardly hunched stature complicating the desperate maneuver and turning it into more of a collapse than a dodge. Fortunately, her aim was off-center -- not by much, but it's enough for the spell to slip by as you thud against the floor.

Before you can scramble upright, the stone beneath you shifts to form binding rings enclosing your limbs and torso. Struggling seems pointless, your bonds unperturbed by your hurried attempts at escape.

Though you no longer see her from your position, the clipped tapping of the witch's approach sounds clearly throughout the chamber. A series of words, just beneath a comprehensible volume, is uttered above you in an inconsistent rhythm to no clear effect.

You try to speak again.

"As I was--" something catches in your throat and you involuntarily hack to dislodge it.

"Tell me your name." The witch commands archly.

[X] (Name) Write-in: Actually, my friend, I was hoping you could answer that for me. I'll admit I'm a bit frazzled and really, if you could point me in the direction of wherever I left my name, I'd be duly grateful.

"If you escape before I return, I promise the results will not be to your favor."

With that, there is another crack, sharper for its proximity, and you are alone once more.

Luckily, it seems she didn't notice -- or didn't care to confiscate -- the wand currently enclosed in your left hand. It's small enough that your grasp must have concealed it from her sight. You should be able to channel the now-faint feeling of your magic through it, though accomplishing much of consequence may prove difficult.

[] (Action) Try to break free
- [] with brute force
- [] with the wand you picked up, recklessly
- [] with the wand you picked up, carefully
[X] (Action) Remain entrapped

The "Spells" section of the Encyclopedia has been updated.

---

Another short update, but there's a lot going on both visibly and not. I was going to have you roll to dodge the first spell, but figured this was better for pacing. Things should slow down in the next section one way or another, giving you some more context to what's going on.

For fun, I'll add that she didn't interrupt you with a spell the second time you attempted to talk.

{"Tell me your name." The witch commands archly.}

"Actually, my friend, I was hoping you could answer that for me. I'll admit I'm a bit frazzled, and really, if you could point in the direction of wherever I left my name I'd be duly grateful."

"This is no time for levity. Prompt honesty will see you released more easily than any attempt at deceit," she replies severely.

"Regardless, I find myself quite bereft of appellations at the moment -- mine, yours, or anyone at all's."

She doesn't respond, resuming her chants.

---

{With that, there is another crack, sharper for its proximity, and you are alone once more.}

This isn't the welcome you were hoping for. You weren't exactly hoping for one at all, given there's been very little chance to consider your circumstances, let alone anticipate the sudden intrusion of others into them. Luckily, you've been granted a reprieve from the interference of others, a chance to ponder just what is happening. You even have an excellent view of the ceiling -- flat, rectangular, grey, thoroughly innocuous...

and incredibly dull.

---

The approach of footsteps offers a welcome break from your boredom -- or it would, if they hadn't stopped before entering your room. The door's still partway open, but the voices you hear are muffled enough to be indecipherable. In many ways, their presence is worse than nothing and makes you long for the ennui of yesterminute. It's a relief when this fresh torment abates far sooner than the last with the sound of two people entering your impromptu prison, accompanied by a light bright enough to illuminate the room in full -- or at least what little of it you can see.

There's a squeak followed by the loudening patter of someone's rapid approach. A new voice, masculine but high, makes itself heard.

"Incredible! The sheer dedication needed to craft something like this in secret..."

You strain to see who's talking, eliciting a yelp from the speaker but failing to make headway.

"Alive! They're alive as well? What do you remember? Do you --"

"They claim to have lost their memory," the woman interrupts.

"Not quite, as I have a suitably detailed recollection of everything which has come to pass this... morning? Evening? Span of time from my waking to now," you interject.

"Hm, well, that's to be expected with the transference of soul," the man replies. The witch inhales sharply. "Soul traps aren't exactly known to retain much beyond the basics, when they manage to work at all."

"Is it the headmaster's?" She asks.

"Hmm?"

"The soul, is it Albus's?"

"What? No, no, whoever's soul it originally was would have to have been in this room during its transfer. I'd expect that heap of ashes to be what remains of their body."

A pause.

"Wait, why would the soul have been Albus's?"

"...The headmaster died less than an hour ago. Aurors are still investigating, but they're inclined to rule it an accident."

"Oh. I see. Well, that's...."

A longer, deeper pause.

"Um, Minerva, you need to release... the soul trap. We don't have a legal basis for holding them."

She does so, and as you rise you finally have an opportunity to examine yourself.

Your body is
[] (Body) chrome metal with gems studded from place to place -- one in the center of your chest, one on each hand, and many others.
[X] (Body) pliable, with a pale outer layer reminiscent of skin. There are pinpricks of gold on the fingers and hands.
[] (Body) spindly, elegant, a frame with many exposed gears in brass and silver.
[] (Body) jagged and mathematical. A dazzling array of colors in a dizzyingly complex fractal arrangement.
[] (Body) fabric draped over something solid. Surprisingly warm, with the faintest indication of movement within.

A tiny wizard has joined you in the chamber. Despite his prior excitability, he now appears to be on the verge of tears. "Minerva", the witch from earlier, is looking away from the both of you. The light filling the room is emanating from her wand.

What will you do now?
[] (Action) You'll wait here. It might be a little awkward, given that the wizard is grieving and Minerva clearly isn't doing much better, but you'd like to see what they do next.
[X] (Action) You'll try to comfort the man. You might not know who this "Albus" fellow was, but you should still make an attempt to empathize, right?
[] (Action) You'll start looking around. Finally getting out of this room and stretching your legs a bit would make for a nice change of pace.
[] (Action) You'll leave. If they aren't keeping you put, you have no reason to stay. Sure, you lack information on where you are or what you ought to do, but you'll figure something out.
[] (Action) Write-in

The "Spells" section of the Encyclopedia has been updated.

---

Alright, so, we're now getting into the actual plot of things.

The fourth option for (Body), the fractal colors one, is based on the appearance of bismuth. The rest are more understandable as written, but I'll elaborate on them if asked.