The Shyish Student (An Amethyst Apprentice in Hogwarts) [Warhammer Fantasy/Harry Potter]

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AN: Apologies for the delay. I had to travel unexpectedly, but I am back.

[X] Talk to Hagrid about your concerns
[X] Just tell her that Neville's been locked out of the common room before. Ask her to help make sure he isn't again.

You hear Hagrid trying to comfort his pets as you approach his cabin. When you knock on the door, he opens the door very narrowly.

"Zagroose! Come in quick! Don't let them float out!"

You squeeze in, confused, but once inside you quickly spot the problem. All of Hagrid's rat creatures are skittering upside down on the wooden roof, their sharp claws leaving grooves on the ceiling. They chitter excitedly, occasionally running down strands of rope to gnaw at the dried meat hanging from them, before losing their grip and floating back upwards. Fang, meanwhile, whimpers pathetically as he floats back and forth just under the ceiling, moving his legs uselessly. Under your windsight, the beasts all shimmer with a faint aura of ersatz Azyr, similar to a levitation spell.

"Hagrid," you say, "Do your pets usually float?"

"No," says Hagrid, shaking his head, "jus' a small accident with some Billywigs. They got stung, see. Not too painful, but makes 'em float. Should wear off in a few hours. Come 'ere Fang."

He reaches up and grabs Fang by the leg, before gently tucking the dog under his armpit.

"What brings you, Zagroose?" he asks, smiling, "it's a bit windy for potions practice."

You decide to get straight to the point.

"I had a vision about Fluffy," you say.

Hagrid stumbles on the way to the kettle, knocking his head on a hanging lantern. He rubs his head, inadvertently letting go of Fang, who floats back up with a sad whimper. As you tell him about your vision, Hagrid looks increasingly agitated.

"Merlin's hat Zagroose, yeh need teh keep Fluffy out of yer mind," he howls. He turns away, pouring himself an amber coloured drink from a large glass bottle.

"How are we supposed teh keep a secret when they can just ruddy dream 'bout it?" he mumbles.

"I'm worried about Neville," you say, "He was in danger because something came out of the corridor."

"Fluffy is a good boy!" says Hagrid.

You hesitate a few moments, thinking about how to phrase your thoughts delicately.

"I read that Cerberi are very loyal and vigilant guardians. They're not gentle towards intruders. That doesn't make them bad," you say, quietly.

"Fluffy would never hurt a child," says Hagrid, looking out the window to check if somebody is there, "Listen, I probably shouldn't tell yeh this, but if it'll keep yeh out o' trouble…"

You wait expectantly.

"Near the beginning o' the year, two Slytherin duffers decided to go in the forbidden corridor fer a bet. Fluffy barked at 'em, grabbed 'em by the scruff o' their robes an' tossed 'em around a bit. Scared 'em straight, he did, but didn't hurt a hair on their heads. Well, maybe aside from some bruises…"

You frown. You definitely heard ripping flesh and snapping bone in your vision.

"Besides, how could Fluffy open the door? He doesn't have the key," continues Hagrid, "Or hands!"

A fair point.

"What if somebody else is trying to get through him?" you ask, "And I saw Neville get caught up in the commotion?"

Hagrid remains silent for a few moments.

"Well, I don' think anyone would be mad enough to try to steal the Phil– thing under Dumbledore's nose," he says, catching himself, "But I suppose it'd be smart for Neville to avoid the corridor anyway."

===============================

You're studying in the library, having just walked Neville back to his common room. You'd intended to do some more reading on local customs surrounding death, but had gotten side tracked by a Transfiguration oddity. You notice someone approaching and look up, spotting a familiar mane of bushy brown hair.

"Excuse me," says Hermione, "How long will you be using that book? Madam Pince told me that it's the only copy that hasn't been checked out."

"I'm not sure…" you answer honestly, "I'm trying to get to the bottom of something."

Hermione looks at you impatiently.

"Well, what are you trying to find out? Maybe I can help so you can give me that book faster…"

You frown and look up in annoyance, but consider her offer. Hermione is rather knowledgeable for a first year…

"Do you remember the simple metal transfiguration spell Professor McGonagall mentioned in class?" you ask, as Hermione nods, "She said that the spell works on pure metal, not on steel. I'm trying to find out why."

Hermione suddenly perks up.

"I was curious about that too and I figured it out!" she says, quite pleased with herself. You wait expectantly. In your experience, Hermione likes knowing what others do not – but she is no hoarder of knowledge.

"The spell only works on objects that are only made of metal," she explains.

"I know that," you say, "The spell works on iron…"

"Pure iron, yes," she cuts in.

"... but steel is purified and refined iron," you say, remembering the village smith spending hours hammering out the slag.

Hermione shakes her head.

"You're wrong. Steel is a mixture of iron and carbon."

Carbon. It takes you a moment to remember the meaning of the word. It's rather obscure – probably Classical.

"Carbon? You mean charcoal?" you ask.

Hermione takes a moment to think.

"Not exactly, no, but charcoal is made of carbon. Mostly," she says.

"So the charcoal contaminates the steel in the forge?" you ask, confused, "But not any of the other metals?"

"The carbon isn't a contaminant," explains Hermione, "It's an essential part of steel. Remove all the carbon, and you're left with pure but weaker iron."

You digest her words for a few moments. It seems wrong, but you remind yourself you are no smith or Gold Wizard. It's certainly possible you are just as ignorant of metalworking as a muggle is of magic. You weigh your curiosity against the embarrassment of coming across as an ignorant bumpkin, and decide that seed has already been planted.

"What do you mean charcoal is made of carbon?" you ask.

Hermione launches into an excited explanation of carbon, which she describes as an element.

Like copper, Sigmar's Blood, or water then. One of the fundamental components of the material world.

Carbon, apparently, is very common. It is an essential part of all living beings…

"At least, all the non-magical ones…" explains Hermione.

… and part of every morsel of food and exhaled breath. Soot and charcoal are mostly carbon. Pure carbon can come in the form of "graphite" – which after some explanation you deduce is the local name for plumbago – and, bizarrely enough, diamonds.

"But diamonds are so shiny and clear," you say, confused, "How is it they're made of glorified soot?"

"Glass is also clear," says Hermione, doing her best impression of a tutor, "Do you know what it's made from?"

You nod hesitantly, thrown off by the change in subject.

"Not carbon, surely? Isn't it mostly sand and… Ah," you say, "I see your point."

Clarity can come from unexpected sources.

"Anyway, the wizard understanding of elements is quite fascinating. There's not much modern chemistry but there's a lot of overlap with old alchemical stuff, except a lot of it actually works!" says Hermione.

You close the book in front of you and slide it over to her.

"You can have it now," you rasp.

"Thank you," she says with a satisfied smile, before turning to leave.

"Wait," you say, "I need to talk to you about Neville." Hermione looks surprised, then sits back down across from you.

"What about him?" she asks.

You explain that Neville has been locked out of his common room late at night, leaving out any mention of your vision. Hermione's eyes widen.

"He never told me that," she says, "I knew he had trouble with the passwords but why would he…?"

Hermione looks up at you, more determined, "I'll help him."

You nod.

"Also, just… keep an eye on him will you? Make sure he doesn't get into trouble. You're his friend, I think, and you're in Gryffindor with him," you say.

Hermione gives you a searching look.

"This from the boy who took him on a moonlight Thestral ride?"

"That was supervised by Professor Kettleburn and our esteemed Keeper of Keys," you say, with more confidence than you feel, "You set him on fire on the lake."

Hermione scoffs.

"It barely singed his robes!" she says, her voice becoming louder and more shrill, "You're the one who was swinging a glowing scythe right next to Harry's head!"

Madam Pince pokes her head around a nearby bookshelf, letting out a loud shush.

"Mister Nyx, Miss Granger, I remind you this is a library."

Hermione goes red and apologises. Madam Pince walks away.

"I was being quiet," you mumble, "You got me into trouble."

Hermione scowls.

"You… your voice… you have an unfair advantage," she hisses, careful to keep her voice at a whisper.

You let out a snort of laughter. As you realise what you've done, your eyes widen, and you slap your hand over your nose and mouth, making even more noise. A loud shushing noise erupts from further in the library, but to your relief Madam Pince does not reappear.

"I'm sorry," says Hermione, seemingly regretting her words as soon as she said them, "I didn't mean…"

"It's alright," you say, amusement replacing worry, "You're not exactly wrong."

A few moments pass as you gather yourself.

"Have you told the Professors about Neville?" asks Hermione. You nod.

"Good," she says, "I'll keep an eye on him. Anything else?"

Your mind goes to your tabletop game. Much of the setting was still unfamiliar to you.

"Since you know about all this chemistry stuff," you say, "Can you explain the difference between steel and Durasteel?"

Hermione bites her lip in concentration.

"Durasteel? Is that a goblin thing? I know they do all sorts of things with metal…" she whispers.

"No, it's muggle," you say, much to her confusion.

==============================

When you arrive at your tabletop game early, no more informed about Durasteel, Penny O'Cahan is the only one there. She's not the sort to remain quiet when there is somebody to talk to.

"It's odd they didn't come up with it sooner," says Penny, as she sets up the table, "Really, all you need to play this stuff is some dice, something to write on, and imagination. You couldn't play Quidditch in Roman times, even if you knew how – they hadn't invented the spells for the brooms and the balls yet. Same with muggle stuff. No luck if you wanted to watch telly or play a video game – the technology wasn't there yet. But this…"

She gestures to the dice, parchment, and rulesbooks strewn across the table,

"There's no reason they couldn't have been playing this back then," she says.

You don't recognize everything Penny mentions, but you understand her argument.

"You have to be literate," you say, "and know some mathematics." Of the muggles you knew, only a handful could play this game.

Penny tilts her head.

"That's a good point," she says, "But there are simpler tabletop games, or it could be a rich person's hobby."

The rest of the club soon joins you. Penny describes where you left off – having stolen a pirate ship while recovering supplies for a prison raid.

"Isn't this a converted Imperial customs ship?" asks Justin Finch-Fletchley, as you all discuss your next move.

"It is," says Penny.

"Well, why don't we pretend to be an Imperial crew?" He says, "We can land right in the prison, instead of sneaking in from the outside."

You all spend a long time hammering out the details and preparing the ship. Eventually, the ship approaches the prison, and all of you wait with bated breath while Justin's character, Dan Duo, attempts to bluff the garrison and obtain "docking clearance."

It's a disaster. Alarms blare in the prison as heavy cannons from the ground attempt to knock your void ship out of the sky. Unlike the pirate camp, the prison has a complement of flying craft which rise to attack you. You spend the better part of an hour defending the ship against the enemy flyers, bombarding the prison with its blaster cannons, and patching up the ship.

Sally-Anne has the idea of dropping crates full of weapons where the prisoners are being kept and a fight soon erupts between them and their guards.

Throughout the fight, the prison attempts to contact reinforcements, which Sue Li's R2-D20 prevents with some sort of technical wizardry. Still, eventually Dan Duo is forced to ram his crippled ship into a "communication dish" near the centre of the prison.

All of you survive, albeit injured, and Penny concludes the session.

"Just ask to land in the prison, what could go wrong?" says Nikhil, with a smirk.

"Well, he did land us in the prison," you rasp, "just was a bit more exciting than he expected."

"Everyone's a critic," says Justin, in good humour.

=======================

You soon find yourself at the Ravenclaw Common Room door alongside Sue Li and two second-year Ravenclaws – Marcus Belby and Eddie Carmicheal.

"I have one lock but many keys," says the eagle knocker. You and Sue think in silence, while Marcus and Eddie discuss possible answers.

"A keyboard," shouts Sue excitedly, interrupting their debate. The door opens, allowing the four of you entry. Eddie turns to Sue.

"What's a keyboard?" he asks.

"It's a muggle device that– "

The boys both shake their heads and groan.

"I hate it when the answer is muggle shit," interrupts Marcus.

A flash of hurt passes over Sue's face as he walks up to her dormitory. You frown. What were the boys on about? Each riddle usually had many answers.

Many keys.

Now that you think about it, the door itself would have been a valid answer to the riddle. No knowledge of "muggle shit" needed.

Later, as you write an essay for Herbology, you notice Sue scribbling on a scrap of parchment with a muggle pen. Next to her is a closed black book, a page in it marked with a ribbon, and its title partially obscured by crumbled up parchment.

Karel the Robot: A Gentle Introduction to –

Sue leans back in her seat, chewing on her pen in thought, allowing you a glimpse of the parchment. On top there are rectangular blocks with angular lines within, and below that is writing – some of it scribbled out. You can make out some of it:

WHILE not-next-to-a-beeper DO
IF left-is-clear
THEN
turnleft
move
ELSE
move
move
turnoff

You recognize individual words, but not their combined meaning. You watch as Sue moves the tip of her pen through inside the strange, almost runic looking blocks, careful not to touch the edges. Soon she notices you're looking at her work instead of your own.

"It's not schoolwork," she says, keeping her eyes on the parchment, "Just muggle crap."

"What kind?" you ask.

She looks at you for a moment before answering.

"It's a puzzle – I'm trying to write an algorithm to solve mazes," she says, noticing your look of confusion, "It's like a set of instructions to solve a problem."

You look more closely at the blocks. They do indeed look like mazes, as seen from above.

"Isn't it easy when you can look down and see the whole maze?" you ask.

Sue frowns and bites her lip.

"These are just examples to test on, the algorithm needs to work on every maze. Besides, the robot can't see the whole maze, only what's right next to it."

"Where is the robot?" you ask, confused.

With a sigh, Sue taps the side of her head with her pen, "It's an imaginary robot," she says, returning to her mazes.

You spend a few minutes very confused before you remember some of the characters she has played with you – and what they are good at.

"Are you learning slicing? Like what your character R2-D20 does?" you ask.

Sue looks at you taken aback, biting her lip to keep herself from laughing.

"Nothing that fancy. But yes, I'm learning how to code," she says, before she averts her gaze, "Trying to at least."

A few moments of silence pass.

"My dad always said the future is in computers. He started teaching me just before I learned that I was a witch," says Sue, not noticing as you wince, "I can't really do it at Hogwarts."

"You're doing it now, aren't you?" you say.

"Sure, but this is just pen and paper. Can't put it into practice without a computer," she says, "It's like learning to cook without going into a kitchen."

She shakes her head.

"Bit of a silly thing to miss when you're learning actual magic," she says with a sigh, "Well, there's always the holidays."

=======================

The accursed smell had been the bane of his existence for weeks. Herbs had power, certainly, but he knew the boy carried more than mere rose and cypress.

Whatever the source, its effects persisted when he held his breath, and even after his guest had forced him to cauterise his own nasal cavity, obliterating his sense of smell. The Bubble-Head Charm helped, but was not enough – the effect would seep in through his skin.

How had the boy managed to ward himself so effectively? The Aurors would have paid dearly for something so effective. Had it been Dumbledore's doing? Why wasn't Potter similarly warded?

Questions without a clear answer.

In the end, he had to charm all of his clothing to be utterly impermeable, wear gloves, and use the Bubble-Head charm to even pass by the boy without immense discomfort. Finding a solution was only one part of the problem – he also had to ensure nobody realised he did it because of Zagreus. Thus, he maintained these measures constantly, even when the boy was nowhere near him.

His reputation for meekness and overcaution proved to be a great boon. When pressed, he told his colleagues and students that he was sensitive towards a certain pungent herb he had taken to carrying around to repel dark creatures – including Grindylows. He could see the pity and contempt in their eyes as they witnessed the further decline of a wizard who already stuttered and reeked of garlic.

Poor cowardly Quirrell, afraid that Grindylows are going to walk on land and strangle him in his sleep…

No matter. The more they thought him a spineless worm, the less they would suspect.

While not back to his original schedule, Professor Quirrell had resumed teaching his 5th and 7th years, due to their upcoming OWLs and NEWTs. After concluding his most recent class, he observes a slim boy with messy brown hair – Edward Dobbin, the current Ravenclaw Seeker.

"D-d-dobbin. A word p-p-please."

Dobbin blinks, then approaches Professor Quirrell's desk.

"T-t-turn out your b-bag," says Quirrell.

"Sir?" says Dobbin, taken aback.

"D-d-do it," stutters Quirrell, "P-p-please."

Dobbin hesitates for a moment before emptying his bag on the desk. School books, quills, parchment, potion ingredients, and a small silver flask. Dobbin tenses up as Professor Quirrell unscrews the cap of the flask, waves his wand around it and makes a show of sniffing it.

"F-firewhisky is c-c-contraband, D-dobbin," says Quirrell, before recoiling from the stony expression on Dobbin's face, "S-s-since y-you are of age, I w-will not g-give you d-detention. But I will t-take t-t-ten… no, f-f-five p-points from R-ravenclaw."

Quirrell vanishes the whisky from the flask, before helping Dobbin repack his bag.

"D-dismissed" says Professor Quirrell, and Dobbin heads to Potions – his vial of powdered asphodel replaced by one seemingly identical but far more exciting.

Hermione Granger Socialisation

Raw DCs:
30/60/90
Bonuses: -10 (Socially Awkward) - 5 (Voice) + 15 (Fellow Bookworm) + 10 (Neville's influence) - 10 (Differing Worldviews) + 10 (Positive Impression) = 10 (-8 to DC, +2 to roll)
True DCs: 22/52/82
Roll: 64 + 2 = 66. Success!

Getting along better, will keep an eye on Neville.

Penny Socialisation

Raw DCs:
30/60/90
Bonuses: -10 (Socially Awkward) - 5 (Voice) + 10 (Tabletop club) = -5 (+4 to DC, +1 to roll)
True DCs: 34/64/94
Roll: 44 - 1 = 43. Bare Success

Tabletop Club in-game performance:
1d100 = 22

Sue Li Socialization
Raw DCs:
30/60/90
Bonuses: -10 (Socially Awkward) - 5 (Voice) + 10 (Same House) + 5 (Study Partner) + 10 (Tabletop club) = 10 (-8 to DC, +2 to roll)
True DCs: 22/52/82
Roll: 56 + 2 = 58. Moderate Success.

Quirrell
Raw DC:
60
Bonuses: -10 (Pomander's effect) - 10 (????????) + 15 (???????) = -5 (+4 to DC, -1 to roll)
True DC: 64
Roll: 87 - 1 = 86. Success!

Something's afoot.
 
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The Chimera (Part 1)
The Potions classroom is filled with bluish steam and the bitter smell of wormwood as seventh-years attempt to brew Draught of Living Death. Edward Dobbin wipes the sweat from his brow, careful not to drip any of it into his potion. Taking a moment to catch his breath, he peers into the blackcurrant liquid in front of him with satisfaction – an ideal halfway point, per the instructions. Snape walks by his cauldron and peeks in, only to pass in silence. High praise, from him…

With luck, full marks today, he thinks with a grin. He is looking forward to using the old witch's trick his nan had shown him for the final stirring, but that was still a ways off. Now it is the time to add a core ingredient - powdered asphodel.

Dobbin uncorks the vial and weighs a precise amount of the brown powder, but frowns, wafting the air above it towards his nose. The powder smells fine but looks oddly clumpy. He'd used it without issue earlier in the year. Has it simply gotten damp? Moisture shouldn't affect its properties, but it could throw off his measurements.

Aware that he doesn't have much time until he has to add the ingredient, he spoons more onto the scale, to compensate for the added weight of the moisture. Besides, he could adjust for using too much asphodel, but there wasn't much to be done if he used too little.

Happy at having caught the issue just in time, he tips the powder into the cauldron. As expected, the potion turns lighter – just before it starts roiling furiously.

"What did you do?" asks his classmate, a fellow Ravenclaw boy.

"I don't know!" hisses Dobbin, as his mind races through every brewing mistake he could have made and how to fix them. The potion shifts into an angry red and starts leaking onto the table as the liquid eats through the cauldron.

Snape, who had been loudly berating a Hufflepuff boy on the other side of the classroom, looks over towards Dobbin's misfortune. His dark eyes go wide, and he whips out his wand.

"Back! Now!" he shouts and the class listens. Potions mishaps were common enough, but anything that takes Professor Snape beyond sneering contempt is something to stay well away from.

As the liquid drips into the fire, it suddenly explodes, just as a protective shield blinks into existence. The liquid sprays against the barrier, just inches away from a group of students.

The room beyond the barrier rapidly fills with dark, choking smoke as the remnants of the potion ignite the tables and even parts of the stone floor. Small, multicoloured explosions can be seen and heard, as the substance consumes potion ingredients left behind.

Snape's quick thinking and wandwork had saved himself – and many of his students – from grievous injury.

But not all.

Dobbin had been on the wrong side of the barrier. Splashed by the potion and in great pain, he tries to scream, but finds he has no mouth.

============================

Captain Maggie Hopkirk quietly steps into the changing room. She takes a moment to look over her team:

Susanna Frumscone, the tall and wiry Keeper. She'd been on the short list to be captain, but didn't resent it when Maggie was chosen instead.

Daisy Page, her fellow beater, shorter than Maggie and quite a bit wider. They didn't always see eye to eye, but she was good at what she did.

Shaheen Shafiq, an olive skinned witch with long black hair and most senior of the Chasers. Very competitive, especially when she played against her brother on the Slytherin team.

Jeremy Stretton, a friendly wizard with brown hair and a mullet. He'd been essential in inflicting on the Slytherin team their only loss last year.

Roger Davies, a tall and pale third-year boy – a newcomer to the team and the youngest player by a fair margin.

Excluding, of course, Harry Potter. A living legend of wizarding Britain, whose fame matched that of Albus Dumbledore himself. Vanquisher of You-Know-Who, avenger of an older brother and an aunt Maggie never got to know. For all that Maggie is used to wielding authority over her teammates as team captain, it is odd to be giving orders to The Boy Who Lived.

He's just another boy.

Awkward, a touch shy, with knobbly knees. Seekers are generally smaller than their teammates – Edward Dobbin was certainly no giant – but compared to his teammates first-year Harry Potter is tiny. Susanna towers over him as she praises his flying and ruffles his messy black hair.

Potter was indeed a capable flyer – Maggie had been shocked when he'd told her he never flew before Hogwarts. Still, as a first year with so little training, he would be very vulnerable on the pitch and less reliable than Dobbin. Alas, her hand had been forced. Maggie clears her throat, and her teammates fall silent.

"I have some good news and some bad news. The good news is that Dobbin is expected to make a full recovery…"

There is some enthusiastic clapping at that, alongside cheers and sounds of relief.

"The bad news is that it will take a month for Madam Pomfrey to regrow his eyes. He will not be playing against Hufflepuff."

There are mumbles and groans at that, as well as expressions of sympathy towards Dobbins. One by one, the team looks towards Harry Potter, as the implications sink in.

"So, Potter," says Maggie, feigning confidence, "Ready to become the youngest Seeker in a century?"

Harry looks at her startled, before nodding with determination.

"Good lad," says Maggie.

It could have been worse. Potter would be playing against Hufflepuff – with lacklustre beaters and a sense of fair play. Better than pitting Potter against the Weasley twins and Wood's oaf of a Seeker or, even worse, Slytherin.

"Well, let's get on with it," says Maggie, leading her team onto the pitch for practice.

==========================

Harry Potter had told Maggie Hopkirk that he'd never flown a broomstick before Hogwarts. This was perhaps a lie of omission – Harry Potter had never flown. Dudley had, in aeroplanes and hot air balloons during vacations, but not him.

He'd come close during his uncle's attempts to avoid the letters from Hogwarts. Vernon had loudly floated the idea of catching a plane to Majorca until "it all blew over." He eventually talked himself out of it, unwilling to put himself in a vehicle he could not control – or chuck Harry out of.

Then came flying classes with Madam Hooch. The ancient Shooting Stars gave him splinters but also a taste of true freedom. Ancient and dodgy though the brooms were, he could make them dance through the air. It was as if he had been born on a broomstick. Perhaps he had been.

Yet his admiration for the school brooms would not last. The Cleansweeps and Comets used by the Ravenclaw Quidditch team were leagues above them – in speed, comfort, and agility.

And then came the Chimera, Maggie's name for the broom she'd gotten from somewhere. It did not resemble the rugged Cleansweeps, nor the sleek Nimbus 2000 he'd seen in Diagon Alley. It was a gnarled, ugly thing. A feathered bird skull on the front. A twisted and knotted shaft, covered in unfamiliar runes, and wrapped in a ribbon of jagged metal. It was not a solid piece of carved wood, but three warped branches, fused together. Its tail twigs were sinister looking, black and thorny, joined by animal hair and shredded cloth.

How it flew was just as unique. It needed a running start to get airborne, but once it did it accelerated like a rocket. It lacked a Cushioning Charm, making it a pain in the backside after a long training session. It also lacked any sort of grip enhancement, making it liable to throw off its rider when it accelerated or turned quickly. It had an increasing tendency to roll counterclockwise as it sped up, something that had to be compensated for or endured. Its top speed was unknown – this increasingly violent rotation would fling off the rider before it stopped accelerating. It was also rather noisy in an all-out sprint, making a noise rather like that of an old dive bomber. It could turn on a knut to the right, which had the scary tendency of pushing the nose down, but leftward turns were sluggish and pulled the nose up. It could fly sideways and backwards almost as quickly as it could forwards, but was terrible at hovering. It became increasingly unstable with heavier riders – fortunate, then, that Harry was so skinny.

If a good Quidditch broom was like a sports car, the Chimera was a rocket powered unicycle. Edward Dobbin had struggled to get used to it. It was certainly quicker and more agile than a Cleansweep, but habits formed on saner designs had him careening into the ground and almost falling off. Maggie was rather good on it, used to more unconventional broom designs. She was sorely tempted to claim the broom for herself – it would have been within her rights as team captain – but she knew the importance of putting the team Seeker on the most capable broom they had. Despite Maggie's initial scepticism that a first year could tame the Chimera, it was Harry who'd made it truly soar.

Harry streaks across the pitch in unpredictable spirals, dodging Bludgers hit at him by Maggie and Daisy. He flies circles around Roger as he pretends to be the opposing seeker, easily snatching the practice Snitch before him time and time again.

Well, it wasn't exactly a Snitch. While Chasers, Keepers, and Beaters practice with real Quaffles and Bludgers, Ron had told him real Snitches could only be used once and were too expensive to use for practice – at least at Hogwarts. During practice, Seekers either worked improving their basic skills, or tried to catch inferior substitutes.

"It's only a real Golden Snitch if it's from the Wright Workshop in Godric's Hollow," Ron had said, sounding a great deal like Hermione, "Otherwise it's just a shiny Snidget substitute."

Spotting a familiar glint of metal, Harry puts the Chimera into a wide corkscrew, once more plucking an imitation Snitch from the air with ease.

"Well done Harry!" shouts Maggie, a wide smile on face.

Harry holds the imitation snitch above his head triumphantly, smiling back. He wasn't stupid. He knew Maggie would rather have Dobbin play instead of him. But he could tell she was growing more confident in their chances.

======================

An hour later, Harry walks back from practice – bruised and battered, but happy. He looks towards the broom shed, where he'd stashed the Chimera before Maggie's debrief.

Light is visible through the door – not a lantern, but shimmering colourful spellight. Harry looks around for any of his teammates, but sees none – Maggie had kept him a bit late for some personal first game advice, then had left on her broom.

What if somebody was mucking with the brooms? Steeling himself, Harry creeps forward, wand pointed towards the shed door. He hears whispering and the sound of twigs sweeping wood as he approaches. He puts his palm on the wooden door, giving it a gentle push. Harry winces as it lets out a loud creak. The voice inside falls silent as he peeks inside.

It's Professor Snape, one hand on his wand, and another on the Chimera.

"Professor, what are you doing here?" asks Harry, quickly stuffing his wand into his pocket.

"My duties, Potter," snarls Snape, "Why are you here? Headmaster Dumbledore and Professor Flitwick may have allowed you to play Quidditch, but you are still not permitted to fly unsupervised. Especially at this late hour."

"I saw strange lights from the shed, Sir," says Harry, defiantly.

"How vigilant of you, Potter. Now that you have determined that I am no thief or miscreant, you may leave," says Snape, in a mocking tone.

Harry does not move.

"What are you doing with my broom?" he asks, unable to keep suspicion out of his voice.

Snape takes a step towards Harry, looking down on him.

"This is not your broom, Potter. Even if it was, as a Hogwarts Professor, it is my duty to ensure students do not fly on anything… dangerous. Five points from Ravenclaw for interfering in a professor's duties."

Harry clenches his teeth.

"Now leave before I make it detention on your game weekend," sneers Snape, "Imagine the tragedy if Ravenclaw lost both Seekers."

"Yes, sir," says Harry through gritted teeth, before turning around and marching back to the castle, fuming. His mood doesn't improve on his way to the Great Hall. Dean and Ron aren't here yet, but he spots Hermione at the end of the Gryffindor table and moves to join her.

"Hi Harry," she says, shaking her head, "You broke your glasses again."

Hermione whips out her vine wand and points it right between his eyes. Once, her habit of doing that startled him, but he'd gotten used to it – Hermione knew what she was doing and he didn't need to wear broken glasses anymore.

"Oculus Reparo," incants Hermione. The crack in the lens fuses with a scraping sound and the frame straightens where it had been bent.

"Thanks," says Harry, as Hermione smiles at her handiwork, "still not used to glasses that aren't bent or broken."

Hermione blinks, her smile fading. Harry can practically hear the gears turning in her head. He sucks in a breath. He hadn't meant to bring up his home life and really didn't want to talk about the Dursleys.

"I'm playing on Saturday," blurts out Harry, just as Hermione opens her mouth to say something, "Against Hufflepuff."

Hermione looks at him, shocked.

"Oh wow, Harry," she says, not quite smiling, "That's very… unprecedented."

"Youngest Seeker in a century," says Harry, before noticing Hermione's expression, "What's wrong?"

Hermione hesitates, biting her lip.

"I know it's a big achievement," she says, "But it seems like a bit of a bloodsport, doesn't it?"

Harry opens his mouth to object, but Hermione pushes on.

"Honestly Harry, the last game was decided by a fistfight."

"Maggie told me that's 'highly unusual'" says Harry, defensively.

"But taking a Bludger to the head isn't," says Hermione, "and the other players are so much older than you."

"I can do it," says Harry, coolly. Sure he had his concerns over Snape, but Hermione didn't know that yet. "You don't have to watch."

"Of course I'm going to watch you play, Harry," says Hermione, taken aback, "And I'll be rooting for you and Ravenclaw. I'm just worried that you're going to get hurt."

Harry frowns for a few more moments before his expression softens.

"I'll be careful," says Harry, "and at least I'll be a smaller target."

Hermione glares at Harry a moment before shaking her head, the slightest of smiles visible on the corner of her mouth.

"Honestly, Harry… Sometimes you're such a Gryffindor. At least you'll be flying one of the Cleansweeps. I read that those are pretty safe brooms."

Harry makes an odd noise and takes a gulp of pumpkin juice, trying to hide his expression. He is saved by Dean and Ron, who've just spotted him from the door and quickly dash next to him.

"Well, are you playing on Saturday?" asks Ron, excitedly.

Harry nods. Dean and Ron whoop and cheer. Harry smiles. That was the reaction he wanted.

Snape looks into the Great Hall from the entrance. He looks towards the teachers' table, then makes eye contact with Harry. Scowling, he quickly turns around and leaves, his black robes bellowing behind him.

"What's he miserable about?" asks Ron, "Did something happen?"

Harry sighs.

Might as well get it over with.

"Listen, I have to tell you something," he says, before explaining his encounter with Snape to the three of them.

"He was acting really dodgy," says Harry, "He really wanted me to leave, and taunted me with how much danger I was in. I know that our usual Seeker got injured in his class, brewing a potion he knew pretty well," says Harry.

"Harry, you can't possibly think…" says Hermione

"He was always skulking on the lakeshore," interrupts Dean, "you know, before the Grindylow attack."

"He was in the dungeons the day we were attacked," says Hermione.

Ron scoffs.

"Of course! Why stick around once you've laid the trap? It would just be suspicious if he stood around and didn't help."

"He's a Hogwarts Professor, Ron. He's not going to…"

"You're not in our Potion's class, Hermione, you haven't seen how he treats…"

As their argument goes on, Harry takes some time to think. He'd tell Maggie, but beyond that there was little he could do. He had no proof, and Dumbledore and Flitwick clearly trusted Snape.

"At least Dumbledore will be there," says Harry, gloomily, "Might save me if Snape tries anything."

"Dumbledore's not here," says Dean, "He hasn't been in the Great Hall and I overheard some of the Professors talking about how he's away for ICW stuff."

Well, crap.

========================

Once more, you find yourself in the Ravenclaw stands, surrounded by excited students. The crowd around you is even more energetic than the last game – not only is Ravenclaw playing today, but it is the Quidditch debut of Harry Potter. Every Ravenclaw, even Ron, is clad in team colours. Even you'd been badgered into painting a strip of blue and a strip of bronze under your eyes. "Oh come on, it's a first year tradition," Penelope Clearwater had said, as she delicately brushed on the paint. You can see her towards the back of the stands, next to Robert Hillard. Their facepaint is even more intricate, leaving only their eyes untouched.

Next to you, Dean is rather proud of a banner he painted – an eagle with Harry's scar snatching up a badger. One of the older students had even enchanted it so that the eagle flapped its wings and the badger struggled against its claws.

As far as you can tell, this is a cleaner game than the last one. Bludgers are hit and some blood is spilled, but it is all within the rules. Madam Hooch has yet to award a single penalty. The Seekers stay apart from the rest of the players and seek – Martin Vickers with practised ease, Harry Potter with a bit more energy.

Dean suddenly doubles over in laughter. You and Ron turn towards him.

"Look at Quirrell," he says, pointing to one of the opposite stands, "he looks like bloody Mysterio."

You spot Professor Quirrell clad in a familiar set of purple robes, his head enveloped in a transparent magical bubble. You don't know why, but it doesn't take a genius to connect it to his declining health.

"I don't think he's feeling well," you rasp.

Three Chasers suddenly zoom past, knocking off a few hats, as Ravenclaw goes on the offence.

"Davies passes to Stretton who passes to Shafiq," commentates Lee Jordan, with his usual enthusiasm, "She weaves past Diggory, under that Bludger, over Stump… She scores!"

The Ravenclaw stands erupt in cheers. You raise your hands, but try to ignore the noise. It is even more intense when your house is playing.

"You alright?" asks Sally-Anne, noticing your discomfort.

You nod, "Just very loud."

"Honestly, I think the Ravenclaws got the better end of the deal. This Shafiq can fly circles around her brother," continues Lee. The Ravenclaws around you cheer as boos erupt from the Slytherin stands.

"Why are you booing? You know I'm right!" says Lee, which does nothing to placate them.

"Jordan!" cuts in the unamused voice of Professor McGonnagall, "Keep your commentary limited to the players on the pitch."

"Yes Professor," says Jordan, "And speaking of players on the pitch, what is Potter doing?"

Sure enough, Harry is high in the air, struggling with his broom. It looks precarious, certainly not a situation you'd want to be in, but it doesn't strike you as any worse than the usual dangers of Quidditch.

Your thoughts turn to Neville. You hadn't seen him on the way to the pitch, but he should be safe in the Gryffindor stands. Hagrid is very easy to spot, and near him you recognize the bushy brown hair of Hermione, currently looking at Harry's predicament through a pair of binoculars. Neville is not with them, nor can you see him anywhere else in the stands. You suddenly feel a sense of dread.

Calm down, there are hundreds of students watching. He's probably among them.

As you decide what to do next, you notice Ron and Dean pointing towards the teachers' stands, talking about Professor Snape.

Vote:

[ ] Go to the Gryffindor stands and ask about Neville.
[ ] Ron and Dean are under the impression that something is off here. Find out what.
[ ] Stay and observe. Remain calm, look for Neville in the stands and observe your surroundings with your Windsight.

AN: Rolls have been made, but are redacted for now.
 
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The Chimera (Part 2)
[X] Stay and observe. Remain calm, look for Neville in the stands and observe your surroundings with your Windsight.

Before he was hanging onto the broom for dear life, Harry was flying over the pitch in wide clockwise circles – the Chimera did not like hovering, and tended to drop precariously if forced to do so. Suddenly, his broom gave a sudden, frightening lurch. He gripped the broom tightly with his hands and knees. Holding onto the Chimera for dear life was hardly foreign to him, but not when flying this slow.

Just when it seemed to be over, it happened again, as if the broom was trying to throw him off. He tried to fly lower, having half a mind to ask Maggie to call timeout, but realised he had no control over the broom. He couldn't turn it. He couldn't direct it at all. It was zigzagging through the air, and every now and then making violent swishing movements that almost unseated him.

Lee Jordan eventually noticed his plight, and Harry could make out spectators in the stands, looking up and pointing.

"Oi, Potter!" shouts Martin Vickers, the blond Hufflepuff Seeker, a look of genuine concern on his face, "You doing alright there, buddy?"

"My broom," says Harry, through gritted teeth, "I can't…"

As difficult of a beast as the Chimera was, nothing like this had ever happened during practices. He looks down, hunting not for the Snitch, but for one sallow professor. Sure enough, in the stands he spots Professor Snape, glaring at him, muttering something he couldn't hear.

==============================

You take a deep breath, shut your eyes and place your hands over your ears. Oftentimes your other senses can help guide you windsight, but not now – it is too loud and too frantic.

There are hundreds of people here with eyes and ears, but only one with windsight.

You can sense the presence of wizards in the stands besides you, each a wellspring of magic. Their wands are particularly bright – candles in the void. Strands of ersatz Ghur and Aqshy – Phoenix feather, Unicorn hair, and Dragon heartstring – and one solitary strand of Shyish by your hip.

You're reasonably sure nobody around you is casting spells. Their excitement and curiosity causes eddies in the magic around them, but nothing on the scale of actual spellwork.

You concentrate further away. You perceive a snarling vortex of Chamon and Ghur – a Bludger. You can sense the brooms of some of the players – rigid latices of Azyr, much more intricate than the school brooms in Flying class. Interesting, but not what you are looking for. Finally at the very edge of your perception, you sense erratically shifting cords of Azyr.

Harry's broom.

You take a sharp breath as you recognize another presence curdling around it. Dhar.

You trace a writhing tendril coming off the broom – not towards you, or any of the players, but towards the stands on the opposite side of the pitch. It takes you a moment to realise that the Dhar is not flowing from Harry's broom, but towards it.

The Dhar, once subtle, surges in strength, making you feel nauseous. Its newfound radiance reveals something of its nature. What you first perceived as one tendril is actually two – they thrash and constrict each other like two snakes fighting for dominance. It's probably the only reason Harry is still flying – the dark magic spends more of its potency ripping itself apart than sinking its hooks into his broom or flesh.

"Harry's being cursed," you say, keeping your eyes shut.

"What?" says Sally-Anne.

You look to Ron, only to notice he and Dean have already left. Your immediate thought is to find help – go inform Professor Flitwick, or perhaps McGonagall – but anyone can do that. Ron and Dean have already run off to do so – or so you hope.

"Sally-Anne, tell the prefects that somebody in the teachers' stands is cursing Harry's broom."

"What?" she asks, "Why won't you do it?"

"I need to focus…" you say. There's something about how the two tendrils interact… Was it a single poorly cast spell, or two separate spells tripping over each other?

"They won't believe me," says Sally-Anne. She's probably right. Unlike some of the teachers, the Prefects didn't know about your windsight.

"Probably not," you rasp, "Try anyway, please…"

After a moment's hesitation, you can sense her leaving your side. You return your full attention to the duelling strands of Dhar – one of them assaults Harry's broomstick directly while the other only affects it when it tries to wrench the other strand away.

Dispelling.

Dispelling is not inherently dark, even when attempting to dispel dark magic – but that doesn't mean Dhar can't be used to dispel. Somebody is attempting to attack Harry with dark magic, while another tries to foolishly wield Dhar to save him.

You can faintly hear Sally-Anne trying to convince the Prefects that Harry is being cursed.

"This is your second Quidditch game, Sally-Anne," says Penellope in a sympathetic but patronising tone, "This stuff happens sometimes, especially with new players. He's not in any real danger."

Gasps erupt from around you.

"He's going to fall!" says Cho Chang, behind you.

You open your eyes slightly. Harry is tenuously hanging under his bucking broom. Surely, many players fall off their brooms playing Quidditch and they must have precautions for that – but the presence of Dhar complicates things.

Focus.

You look away. Cold as it may seem, you can not help Harry – but you might be able to determine his assailant.

It's difficult – between the distance, the noise, the older students bumping into you from behind, and the fact you need to keep your eyes open to use your windsight and vision together.

You can tell that the sources of both strands of Dhar are very close. You can narrow it to the upper left side of the teachers' stands. There sit Professors Flitwick, Snape, Quirrell, Sprout and three others who you have not seen around Hogwarts before. Two, an older man and woman, are utterly unfamiliar. The last, a middle aged wizard with pale blond hair, you've seen before – on Platform 9¾.

=========================

Hermione Granger runs along the wooden walkway, almost at the teachers' stands. Just as she is about to dart upwards, she hears footsteps and the familiar greasy voice of the Hogwarts caretaker coming down. She presses herself against the wooden railing, pretending she is watching the game – while most of the spectators watch from the stands, there are a handful who are watching from the wooden walkways surrounding the pitch. As she hears Filch getting closer, she looks up at Harry and gasps – he's in an even worse state now, hanging under his broom.

"Thought you could bother the teachers did you?" barks Filch, stepping out from the wooden tower which supports the teachers' stands. In her peripheral vision, Hermione can see that he is dragging two students, Ron and Dean, by their ears.

"Our friend's being cursed," shouts Ron, hissing in pain, "We were going to get help."

"That's why you were carrying Dungbombs in your pockets?" sneers Filch, "To my office with you two. You're lucky I can't just clamp you in irons…"

As Ron struggles against Filch, Dean is more calm. He makes eye contact with Hermione, before tilting his face upwards. Once Filch is far enough along the walkway, she slips into the wooden tower, wand in hand.

========================

You're no closer to determining who is casting what when you notice a slight flash of ersatz Aqshy in the teachers' stands. Nothing happens immediately, and for a moment you think you've simply caught somebody magically lighting a pipe. Twenty seconds later, you spot a whiff of smoke coming from just behind Professor Snape. It takes another ten seconds for him to notice, but when he does, his reaction is explosive. He flails around, knocking over Professor Sprout and elbowing Professor Quirrell in the face.

Meanwhile, everyone else is focused on Harry. He just manages to clamber onto his broom, when it suddenly lurches forward and enters a deep dive. The Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw players ready to catch him from below scatter as he zooms through them. Harry frantically attempts to pull his broom up. With great effort he manages to avoid crashing directly into the ground, but still clips the pitch with his knees, sending him and his broom tumbling over the grass. Gasps and murmurs break out in the stands as he remains still.

========================

Harry lifts his head from the cold grass, blinking away the stars in his vision. Making out the sound of a whistle, he rolls over and sits up. He can hear cheers and sounds of relief, and it takes him a few moments to realise they're for him.

Nothing appears to be broken, though he feels a sharp pain in his elbow – he must have fallen on a rock or part of his broom.

Several players land next to him – Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs both – asking him if he is alright. He nods, and looks up into the stands. Professor Snape, no longer there, looks back at him nastily from the wooden walkway. Harry glares back. Snape turns around and marches away, not back towards his seat, but towards the exit.

Madam Hooch lands next to Harry, clearly relieved he is still conscious. Harry swallows nervously. With Snape gone, he is not too injured to play – but Madam Hooch could remove him from the game if he was too injured or unable to control his broom. She would not believe the real reason he'd crashed. He has to show her that he could still play.

==============================

You were just about to leave the Ravenclaw stands – the prefects were dead ends and you could no longer sense the taint of Dhar. You'd planned to try your luck at the teachers' stands, or maybe find Professor McGonagall in the commentary box.

Harry's crash kept you rooted to your seat. To your relief, it doesn't take long to see that he is neither dead nor grievously injured. In less than a minute, he is on his feet, talking animatedly with Madam Hooch and the Ravenclaw team captain. Suddenly, he kicks off on his broom, zooming into the sky, putting it into a sequence of complicated loops before slowly circling low over the grass.

"Well looks like Potter's eager to get back into the game," comes the amplified voice of Lee Jordan, "Say what you will about his broom handling, but you can't deny this firstie has a lot of b…"

"JORDAN!" cuts in Professor McGonagall.

"I was going to say 'bravery' Professor. Honest!" says Lee Jordan, mischievously.

=============================

Harry Potter flies over the pitch, furiously prowling for the Snitch. Snape had made him look like an idiot who couldn't even control his broom. Maggie had trusted him to fly well, as had Flitwick, who'd bent the rules to let him play. He would not let them down.

Lee Jordan's commentary had moved to the manoeuvres of the Chasers, Beaters, and Keepers. From what he heard, Ravenclaw was extending their lead, but the Hufflepuff Seeker could still win the game if they made a catch.

Harry feels an odd stinging sensation by his elbow. He shakes it, only for the pain to shoot up his arm and towards his heart.

Was he being cursed again?

He reflexively brings his hand to his heart and winces – his hand strikes an odd lump under his robes, painfully forcing it into his skin.

Like an angry wasp caught under his clothes, the lump buzzes around, scratching against his chest. Had some mundane or magical insect simply flown up his sleeve and panicked? Harry grabs it through his robes, pulling it away from his body as much as he can, and finds it hard and unyielding – like a rock, or metal.

Eyes wide, Harry reaches under his collar with his other hand, and pulls out a small, winged golden sphere, covered in his own blood and sweat.

He'd caught the Golden Snitch and nobody, not even himself, had noticed. Quickly, he descents to the commentary box, waving the Snitch and grinning like a loon.

"And Frumscone blocks the shot and… What?! Potter has the Snitch! I don't believe it. When did he even catch it?" says Lee Jordan, shocked.
=============================

Excitement turns to confusion, then to joy and despair as Harry reveals he has caught the Snitch.

"Ravenclaw wins 250 to 50, thanks to the sneakiest catch I have ever seen!" booms Lee Jordan's voice.

You don't pay much attention to the revelry, as you try your best to find a teacher. Sally-Anne had been with you, but you must have lost her in the crowd. You are distracted from your search when your eyes find that of another friend – Neville.

"Neville!" you rasp, leaning close so he can hear you, "Where were you?"

"I was stuck in detention with Snape," says Neville, "He said I couldn't leave until I was done cleaning all the cauldrons, even after he left for the game. I thought I could catch some of the match, but… I guess Ravenclaw won?"

"Yes, but something happened to Harry," you say, "I'm glad you're alright, I was worried when you weren't in the Gryffindor stands."

"I should talk to one too," says Neville, "I dropped my Remembrall on the stairs and it got stuck in one of the suits of armour. I didn't want to fish it out, since it was too close to the Forbidden Corridor. Best not to risk it, you know?"

You stare at Neville, all thoughts of Quidditch and Harry forgotten. Neville dropped his Remembrall, but hadn't knocked over the suit of armour trying to get it back? Had you averted what you'd seen in your vision?

Before you can ask Neville any more questions, you feel somebody tapping your shoulder. You look down and see that it is Professor Flitwick.

"Hello Mister Nyx. Miss Perks mentioned that you needed to speak with me?"

Trait Improved: Dhar sensitivity.

Snape's Vigilance

Raw DCs:
50/75/100
Bonuses: +15 (DADA Expertise) + 10 (?????) - 10 (Jank-ass broom) = 15 (-12 to DC, +3 to Roll)
True DCs: 38/63/88
Roll: 76 + 3 = 79. Moderate Success.

Attempt to curse Harry's broom contested, broom hardened, small bonus to Harry and potential saviours' rolls.

Windsight

Raw DCs:
25/50/75
Bonuses: +5 (Dhar sensitivity) = 5 (-4 to DC, +1 to roll)
True DCs: 21/46/71
Roll: 79 + 1 = 80. Great Success.

Many magical details about attack uncovered, trait improved, potential to narrow down list of suspects

Determining the source(s)

Raw DCs:
30/60/90
Bonuses: +5 (Astute) - 15 (Misplaced trust) + 15 (Windsight Success) = 5 (-4 to DC, +1 to roll)
True DCs: 26/56/86
Roll: 39 + 1 = 40. Bare Success

Inconclusive, narrowed it down to a section of the stands containing half-dozen people.

Harry's Attempt

Raw DCs:
30/90
Bonuses: -15 (Jank-ass Broom) + 15 (Hardened broom) + 10 (Talent) + 10 (?????) + 5 (Snape) = 25 (-20 to DC, +5 to roll)
True DCs: 10/70
Roll: 29 + 5 = 34. Bare success.

Harry remains on his broom, but cannot shake off the curse's effects.

Dean & Ron's Attempt

Raw DC:
30/60
Bonuses: 5 (Two heads) + 5 (Forewarned) - 15 (Wrong target) + 5 (Zonko's products) + 5 (Snape) = 5 (-4 to DC, +1 to Roll)
True DCs: 26/56
Roll: 14 + 1 = 15. Failure.

Attempt failed. Cannot try again.

Hermione's Attempt:
Raw DC:
30/60
Bonuses: 5 (Forewarned) - 15 (Wrong target) - 10 (Trust in authority) + 10 (Spell knowledge) + 5 (Clean reputation) + 5 (Snape) = 0
True DCs: 30/60
Roll: 69, Success.

Curse foiled, despite setting wrong person on fire.

Harry's Flying Pt 2:

Raw DC:
30/60/90/120
Bonuses: +30 (Excellent Flyer) + 15 (Broom) = 45 (-36 to DC, +9 to roll)
True DCs: -6/24/54/84
Roll: 82 + 9 = 91, Excellent Success.

Harry quickly wins the game for his team.
 
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The Chimera (Part 3)
Professor Flitwick, alarmed, invites you for a private conversation in his office the moment you utter "windsight." Before that, two of you make a brief detour to a certain suit of armour, Neville in tow. As Professor Flitwick recovers the Remembrall from within with a flick of his wand, you take a look at the door to the forbidden corridor, just visible down a flight of stairs. It's sealed, and the nearby portraits are calm and chatty – no sign of a fight or break-in.

You wave good-bye to Neville as you head to Professor Flitwick's office, which has become quite familiar by now. As Professor Flitwick brews some tea and offers you some pastries, you once more throw yourself into describing your experience in a sense others do not possess. You mention the presence of an assailant and somebody trying to dispel the curse.

"If the Pensieve works on windsight, would it help if I provided a memory, Sir?" you ask.

"It's worth a try," squeaks Professor Flitwick, "You can extract the memory if you wish, but the Pensieve is not available. I believe the Headmaster took it with him."

Unfortunate.

Professor Flitwick asks you if you could tell who the assailant was, but you shake your head, saying you could only narrow it down to part of the stands. You begin to list who you saw there.

"Professor Snape – I think Ron and Dean suspect him."

Professor Flitwick looks unconvinced. You briefly consider mentioning Professor Snape's mysterious connection to You-Know-Who, that Dumbledore had alluded to, but think better of it. Either Professor Flitwick is already aware of it, or you would be breaking Dumbledore's trust.

"Also Professors Sprout, Quirrell, and well… yourself, sir," you continue. As Professor Flitwick listens and nods, perhaps jogging his own memory, you feel uneasy. Could Professor Flitwick have…

No, he would have been aware of your windsight. So would Professors Snape, Sprout, and Quirrell.

Wait, had you explicitly told Professor Quirrell about your windsight? You cannot recall, but even if not, surely he would have heard about it from his colleagues.

"There were three others in the stands who I didn't recognize, Sir," you say.

Professor Flitwick looks at you for a few moments, before retrieving a picture frame from one of the drawers in his desk. Twelve haughty looking men and women clad in elegant robes sit side by side at a long table, in what looks to be the teachers' table of the Great Hall. Like most wizarding pictures they aren't still, shifting and silently talking amongst themselves. On the bottom of the picture there is more writing:

Hogwarts Board of Governors, 1991 - 1992

"Are any of them in this picture?" asks Professor Flitwick.

You look carefully at the figures. You tap an older woman with silver hair and gaudy jewellery near the left of the table. She gives you an annoyed look, and tries to move out of the way.

"Viola Vane," you rasp, squinting to read the small metal plaque in front of her. You look to her right and quickly recognize an older man whose dress and features remind you of Araby. "Shawqi Shafiq," you say, tapping the table in front of him. He doesn't even notice you, focussed on talking to the man beside him. Finally, to the very right of the picture, a familiar middle aged man with pale hair. "Lucius Malfoy," you rasp, tapping the table in front of him, barely grazing one of his hands.

Draco's father.

The figure of Lucius yanks his hand back from the table, wiping it on a napkin and glaring at you. Professor Flitwick's face, unaffected by the first two names, twitches at the third.

For a while, the two of you simply quietly, sipping tea.

"I think it's somebody who isn't aware of my windsight," you say, breaking the silence, "The curse wasn't subtle, especially towards the end. It also could have been somebody I couldn't see."

You had some ability to detect magical concealment, as the stillborn ESP club can attest, but at that distance? Very unlikely.

"And I don't know who set Professor Snape on fire," you conclude.

A few times, Professor Flitwick opens his mouth, as if to speak, only to close it.

"Thank you for coming to me," squeaks Professor Flitwick, "As your Head of House, I will ask you to trust your Professors to get to the bottom of this, and to avoid any gossip or wild speculation in the meantime."

You nod. That made sense. Your thoughts turn to Neville. You explain to Professor Flitwick how what you'd seen in the vision might have been averted – Neville, forewarned, had not tried to retrieve his Remembrall.

"But if that's true, then whoever attacked Neville could have..."

There are many ways you could have finished that sentence. Left? Snuck in? Broken out? It's difficult not to speculate. It's easy to connect somebody attempting to sneak through the forbidden corridor with both Dumbledore's absence, and absence of many of the castle's inhabitants due to Quidditch.

Professor Flitwick stills, surely having made the same connections. Soon you are dismissed, and the Professor takes his leave, quickly disappearing in the direction of the Forbidden Corridor.

==================================

The mood in Ravenclaw Tower is one of revelry. Students sing, dance, and drink – Butterbeer flows like water, and judging by their movements and words, some of the older students are drinking stronger stuff. While it's too hectic and loud for you, you still grab a cold bottle of Butterbeer, sit in one of the calmer corners of the room and observe the goings on.

This is not a common room that is acting like their team's Seeker was almost assassinated on the pitch. Indeed, as cheering Ravenclaws hoist man of the day Harry on their shoulders, the prevailing belief matches Lee Jordan's commentary – for a while Harry struggled to control his broom, due to inexperience or nerves, but eventually pulled himself together and caught the Snitch, winning the game. Whether his catch was due to his skill or "beginner's luck" is a matter of spirited debate, but nobody brings up the possibility of foul play.

Once you finish your drink, you feel in the mood for rest and leave to prepare for bed. As you clean your teeth in the bathroom, you look up into the mirror, see Harry walking in, and take the opportunity to observe him. He's in a very cheerful mood, seemingly unbothered by the attempt on his life. Eventually he notices you staring.

"What is it?" he asks.

"You know that your broom was cursed, right?" you ask.

Harry snorts.

"Of course. I was riding it," he says. You turn around to look at him directly.

"I can't tell if you're really good at embracing your own mortality, or you don't grasp how much danger you were in," you say, rather bluntly.

Harry blinks, as his smile fades.

"Sure, it was pretty rough for a while there, but… hang on, how do you know?"

Professor Flitwick told you not to gossip or speculate about the attack, but surely this wasn't what he meant.

"I saw it," you say, "I know Ron and Dean think Snape cursed you. I don't think it was him."

Harry scoffs.

"Then who did?" he asks.

You hesitate, unwilling to talk about your windsight or disobey Professor Flitwick.

"I don't know," you say, honestly.

Harry shakes his head.

"I caught Snape tampering with my broom yesterday. I saw him cursing my broom today. That you're the class favourite doesn't change that," he hisses. A few seconds pass and his expression softens, "He's dangerous, Zagreus, and he's up to something."

You frown in thought. You're not convinced he is behind this attack, but he is marked by Dhar.

"Maybe," you say, "You believe Professor Snape tried to kill you – the same professor you have Potions with on Tuesday. Are you just going to walk into class and pretend nothing is wrong?"

"Yes," answers Harry, "he failed, and he's not going to bump me off in the middle of Potions. Besides, I know what he's up to now."

You look at Harry in silence for a moment, unable to tell where bravery ends and overconfidence begins. What would you do if you believed one of the Professors was trying to kill you? Go to Professor Dumbledore or Flitwick, probably. But what if they didn't believe you or could not act immediately?

"Vigilance is important," you say, as Harry moves past you, "but staring at the towering ogre helps the lurking halfling."

"Alright," says Harry, more bemused than enlightened.

=============================

Nothing much changes in the next few days. You hear no mention of Harry being attacked. The only differences in Tuesday Potions are more barbed words from Snape and silent glares from Harry.

Eventually, Professor Dumbledore returns from his trip, and you are summoned to his office once more. After partaking in the now familiar ritual of tea and lemon drops, the two of you touch the surface of the Pensieve. You find yourself surrounded by vibrant colour, loud sounds, the crisp smell of fresh air – and not a single thread of magic.

"It didn't work, Sir" you rasp, "no windsight."

Professor Dumbledore doesn't look surprised.

"Unfortunate, but not unexpected," he says over half-moon glasses, "The pensieve cannot simulate all senses – you may have noticed that while you can smell the morning breeze, you cannot feel it on your face."

You blink. It's true. The day of the match was chilly and windy, but the air in the memory feels still and warm – like that of Dumbledore's office.

"There is some uncertainty on whether that is a limitation of the Pensieve, or that of the Memory Extraction Charm," he continues.

"Is it something that can be changed, Sir?" you ask.

"I know only enough to know I do not know," says Dumbledore.

You take several steps back towards the past versions of Robert Hillard and Penelope Clearwater – talking amongst themselves. You bend forward, sticking your head between them, but hear only faint gibberish. It must have been too loud and too far for your past self to hear them.

You turn your attention back to Harry as his broom starts bucking. The two of you catch some of Ron and Dean's words as they point and gesture towards Snape, and watch as your past self closes his eyes.

Nothing much happens at first, but as time passes you notice changes in what you see. The unmoving parts of your surroundings remain the same – the sun, the sky, the wooden stands, and Hogwarts in the distance – but anything moving slowly deteriorates.

Spectators gesture erratically, their motions increasingly strange and alien. Their features and clothes shift and melt like hot wax. Ron and Dean, you notice, topple over and disintegrate entirely – your senses had not caught them leaving. The effect is more noticeable further away – the spectators in most other stands are little more than congealed blobs of twitching limbs and house colours. What you remember focusing on with your windsight on seems to resist this process most – Harry, his broom, and a particular section of the teachers' stands.

Your past self opens his eyes, and the sights around you snap back to normalcy. You look down, trying to see if any one is coming into or leaving the teacher's stands. You see nobody, which means little – past you lacked the foresight to cast your gaze that way.

From there, the game goes just as you remember. Snape catches fire, Harry crashes, recovers, and wins the game. You catch when Sally-Anne leaves your past self's side, and spot her hair as she runs ahead to find Professor Flitwick. The memory continues on as you follow your past self and Professor Flitwick back to the castle, watch as Flitwick helps retrieve Neville's Remembrall, and observe your conversation with him. The memory dissolves and you find yourself back in the Headmaster's office, once more in possession of windsight. You frown. Perhaps the memory would still prove useful, but without the windsight…

"I am sorry it didn't work, Sir," you offer.

Professor Dumbledore gives you a gentle smile.

"I think your memory was more valuable than you think," he says, his eyes twinkling over his half moon spectacles, "Thank you for providing it."

You are tempted to ask Dumbledore who tried to dispel the curse – surely they would have come forward by now – but think better of it. A few moments of silence pass.

"Sir, about my vision of Neville…" you say.

Dumbledore nods. "Professors Flitwick and McGonagall have told me about it, but I would like to hear it directly from you."

You describe how you came to see the vision, the vision itself, and Neville's actions afterwards. Professor Dumbledore listens quietly and even remains silent after you're done talking.

"Pyrotechnimancy, perhaps?" he muses.

You blink.

"Sir?" you say, confused.

"I am thinking of what Divination through fireworks would be called," he says, running his hand through his beard in thought, before looking back to you, "Divination is a mystery, even more so than magic as a whole. I confess I have no talent in it. Ignoring it completely can be foolish, but many a wizard has fulfilled a prophecy in their efforts to avoid one. All I can advise you is to keep an open mind. What you see, and the consequences of acting, may not be what it seems."

You nod, hesitantly. Morrite scripture stresses the importance of paying heed to your dreams, but also stresses the danger of misinterpreting them or acting in haste.

"I also remind you very few of our rules have an exception for 'a vision made me do it,'" he says with a smile, before dismissing you so you can catch the end of supper.
 
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On Dreams and Death
Your mind lingers on the subject of dreams and visions – often one and the same in your faith – so you consult the Book of Doorways. In it you find much wisdom but no easy answers. Portents are rarely absolutely clear, and Morr relies on the intelligence of His disciples to unravel their mysteries.

It is known that the same visions can be interpreted differently in different lands. Wolves are considered a good omen in much of the Empire, from Ulric's influence, less so elsewhere. If a dream requires action only by the dreamer, then priests, even initiates, are permitted and expected to act on them. Actions that require cooperation from other priests or which could endanger them are assessed more rigorously, and involve debate and the consideration of the other priests' dreams.

Not that there are any other Morrite priests you can consult.

Practices surrounding cooperation with those outside the cult are not set in stone. Members of the cult have enlisted the aid of other cults, secular authorities, foreigners, and members of other races – either openly or with some amount of misdirection and guile. While a certain degree of prudence is expected, the cult has even worked with unsavoury individuals if needed – Strigany, criminals and Ranaldians, pirates, corpse-burners from Kislev, and even physicians.

A common dilemma faced by Morrites is when it is appropriate to prevent an imminent death. Soldiers tell tales of Morrite priests moving from corpse to corpse after a battle, ignoring those still breathing until they stop. There are also stories of bands of Doomsayers that wander the land like knights errant, hoping to avert the disasters they see in their dreams.

It is accepted doctrine that dreams are ways for Morr to warn the living of grave threats. However, death in itself is not considered a threat – a portent of death is often not a warning to prevent it, but a sign to get one's affairs in order. It is often considered improper, if not outright heretical, for a priest to avert a portent of his own death.

There are, of course, caveats. Many enemies of men have no respect for the dead, be they greenskins, the undead, Druchii, daemons, servants of the Ruinous Powers, or beastmen. Murder empowers Khaine. Disasters such as plague, earthquake, and storm often strike down the priests as easily as the local populace and kill more than the local cult can properly bury.

None of this serves the interests of Morr. Thus, while it is unwise to be too tethered to the affairs of the living, to delay the death of others can be a virtuous act – as seen in the examples of Brothers Shawl and von Alxber.

=====================

You don't see Nikhil Singh much outside your tabletop gaming sessions. He's in a different house, spends most of his time with his fellow fourth years, and doesn't spend much time in the library. One day, you spot him in the courtyard, talking to a slender fourth-year Gryffindor girl with wavy brown hair – Angelica Dugnutt. Nikhil gives you a nod as you approach, but before you can say anything Angelica turns around and scowls.

"You!" she shouts. You stop in your tracks.

"Me?" you rasp, confused.

"Yes, you! I'm in detention because of you," she says.

You blink.

"What?" you ask.

"Professor Binns gave me detention!" hisses the girl.

"To be fair," cuts in Nikhil, "You were playing Exploding Snap in the back of his class."

Angelica looks affronted.

"It never was an issue before crypt keeper over there had his little chat with dear old Professor Binns," she huffs, "Why are you bothering us?"

You frown.

"I was just…" you start.

"Looking for bones for your creepy shrine? Well you can't have mine," interrupts Angelica.

"They'd be useless anyway," you say, "Still alive."

Living bone is useless for an Amethyst Wizard or a Morrite Priest.

Angelica recoils.

"You're touched in the head, you know that right?" she says, with an expression of disgust. Nikhil opens his mouth to say something but thinks better of it. The girl whispers something in his ear and he snorts in amusement.

You sigh and walk away. You know better than to linger where you're not wanted.

==================================

Fortunately, Justin Finch-Fletchley is more welcoming and you strike up a conversation with him over dinner. Like you, he grew up outside of the big cities – though it quickly becomes apparent, from his references to servants, the many rooms of his manor, and the stables full of horses, that he had a more luxurious upbringing than you. You observe the measured and deliberate way he uses his cutlery and a napkin, almost as if he were practising his spellwork.

"Are you a noble?" you ask him.

Wealth by itself doesn't indicate nobility of course, but combined with rural living and odd rules of etiquette it can be a safe bet.

"Not really," he answers, "I'm related to the Earl of Winchilsea and they've visited us for tea a few times. But father says he's more likely to get bitten by a shark and struck by lightning on the same day than to inherit the title."

Earl. It's not an Imperial title, but you've heard it somewhere. Norscan? No. It takes you a few moments to remember it's Bretonnian – and British, apparently.

"You came from a boarding school, didn't you?" asks Justin, "What was it like?"

"Stricter than here. Less free time, more chores…" you rasp, "I was young for a student, so almost everyone was older than me."

"Ah, skipped a grade or two, eh? No wonder you're a top student," says Justin, not noticing your confusion.

"My name was down for Eton, you know – like my father and his father, and his father…" continues Justin, a mocking tone entering his voice, "I can't tell you how glad I came here instead. Mother was against it at first, she was worried it would affect my future, but thankfully Professor McGonagall convinced her."

You wonder how much of a choice Justin's parents truly had, but remain silent.

"I know wizards who had to leave behind wealth, titles, and… family" you say, hesitating, "Some handle it better than others."

Justin nods.

"I miss home sometimes," he says, "But my family already has many politicians, businessmen, lawyers, and doctors. A wizard? I'd be the first."

========================

"Auntie's asked about you," says Susan Bones one day, as the two of you leave Hagrid after some tea.

You blink. You remember that Amelia Bones is the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

"As part of her duties, or…?" you ask, a touch nervous. Essential they may be, but not many wizards would be comforted by a Master Vigilant taking an interest in them.

"I don't think so. She just remembered you from King's Cross and asked how you were settling in."

You nod, not quite convinced. You're not sure you could give a simple answer to that yourself.

"What did you say?" you ask.

"That you didn't seem too lonely and were doing really well at your classes," she says, before dropping her voice to a whisper, "Well, except Flying…"

Flying was indeed your worst subject by far. You had yet to get off the ground since the first lesson accident. You'd spent a good deal of your time on the ground examining the spellwork that animated the broom. With some luck and work, perhaps you could finally get the hang of it.

"It's alright," says Susan, in a comforting voice, "Lots of wizards aren't great on a broom."

"Thestrals are better anyway," you grumble.

The two of you continue on, talking about Herbology and Potions.

"What's Professor Dumbledore like?" asks Susan, changing the subject.

You turn to Susan and give her a quizzical look.

"I think you see him more than any other student," continues Susan, "Even the Head Boy and Girl. I know I haven't talked to Professor Dumbledore since he visited Auntie a few years ago."

Sometimes you've wondered why Dumbledore didn't simply question you every evening, but Susan's question puts things into perspective. Dumbledore spent a great deal of time with you compared to other students – and it's not like you're going anywhere else soon.

"He's curious and kind," you say, "He doesn't pry, and I think he is trying to help in his own way. He always offers tea and lemon drops whenever I visit."

Remembering that you still have a few in your pocket, you offer one to Susan and she takes it. You do your best to describe Dumbledore, his office, and Fawkes without delving into the specifics of what you talk to him about. Susan, fortunately, doesn't press you and seems most interested in Fawkes.

"If I had a Phoenix, I'd keep it on my shoulder all day," she says, giggling.

"What, Hagrid's pets don't compare?" you say.

Susan gives you a guilty look and looks over her shoulder to make sure Hagrid hasn't somehow managed to get within earshot. She turns back to you, biting her lip and shaking her head.

You snort. The two of you walk in silence for a minute until you reach the castle doors.

"I guess you can't just go to Professor Dumbledore's office for tea and sweets like you can with Hagrid," you say.

"Oh, speaking of Hagrid," says Susan, handing you some of his fudge wrapped in cloth, "Please take this. I didn't want to be mean and tell him I almost broke a tooth on his last batch."

"Well, if you insist…" you say, trying not to seem too enthusiastic.

Nikhil Singh
Raw DCs:
30/60/90
Bonuses: -10 (Socially Awkward) - 5 (Voice) + 10 (Tabletop club) - 5 (Different house) - 5 (Age difference) = -15 (+12 to DC, -3 to roll)
True DCs: 42/72/102
Roll: 27 - 3 = 24. Failure.

Justin Finch Fletchley
Raw DCs:
30/60/90
Bonuses: -10 (Socially Awkward) - 5 (Voice) + 10 (Tabletop club) + 10 (Friendly) = 5 (-4 to DC, +1 to Roll)
True DCs: 26/56/86
Roll: 44 + 1 = 45, Bare success

Susan Bones
Raw DCs:
30/60/90
Bonuses: -10 (Socially Awkward) - 5 (Voice) + 10 (Friendly) + 15 (good impression) = 10 (-8 to DC, +2 to roll)
True DCs: 22/52/82
Roll: 61 + 2 = 63. Moderate success.
 
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Starkiller
In the ghostly ballroom you gently spin your Reaping Scythe at arm's length, looking at it under windsight for any flaw or imperfection. Satisfied, you move through some of the basic stances and drills covered in your books before swinging it through a candle, slicing it cleanly in half. You dispel the weapon, watching as its constituent Shyish gently disperses into the ambient magic, before smiling in satisfaction.

Five attempts today and five successes. You're under no illusion that you have mastered Reaping Scythe. To manifest the scythe in a calm environment saturated in ersatz Shyish is not the same as casting the spell in anger. It is also only the first step in using the spell effectively. Like a mundane sword, wielding the spectral scythe requires some degree of martial skill – scythesmanship. But it is a good start, and the first spell from the Amethyst College you have learned outside its walls. May they approve of or forgive you if you ever see them again.

As some danger stalks the halls and grounds of Hogwarts, it is good that you have one more tool to defend yourself.

=============================

Madam Hooch doesn't pay you much attention as she directs her class through simple flying drills. She had long since stopped insisting that you try getting off the ground, and gave you simple written or broom maintenance assignments to do on the ground instead.

It would be a waste of time, if it didn't allow you ample time to examine the brooms without distraction and learn how they work.

You want to fly. As inspiring as your moonlit flight on Nekros had been, you could not easily borrow a Thestral to fly. Quidditch as a game may be a confusing mess, but the grace and speed with which the players cut through the air inspired awe.

Over the weeks, you've been examining the brooms. You believe you've identified the spellwork that levitates them, drives them forward, stops them, and stabilises them. You think you've identified what you did wrong the first time – the spellwork of the school brooms is frayed, relatively easy to break if you poke at it unexpectedly.

You hold the Shooting Star at arm's length and prod at it with tendrils of Shyish. Gradually you coax it to levitate and move forward, looping it around you at chest height in slow circles. Satisfied with its stability, you lower it to waist height and mount it. Bit by bit, you shift your weight from your legs to the broom, until you can lift your feet off the ground. Gently you prod the broom to move forward, the toes of your shoes skimming the grass. You're slow enough to be outstripped by a passing butterfly, but you're flying.

"Nyx!" shouts Madam Hooch.

You wobble on the broom, startled. As you regain control, you see that Madam Hooch is smiling. Behind her, many of airborne first years turn around to get a good look.

"You're flying!" she continues, "Can you turn this way?"

You nod, and turn the broom towards her.

"That's it," she says, "You can go a little bit faster. Just lean forward."

You frown. You know from experience that won't work, but you should be able to go faster by prodding…

Suddenly, one of your tendrils of Shyish catches on something. It is yanked away from you, and you immediately stop channelling it. Under your windsight it is reeled in, like hair caught in a spinning wheel.

The thread of Shyish is trapped and forced against the ersatz Azyr spellwork with such strength that you fear it will curdle into Dhar. Thankfully it doesn't, and with a pop and a puff of sparks and smoke, the tendril escapes, leaving most of the spellwork of the broom intact.

But most is not all. In your reading, you have learned that brooms can in theory go higher and faster than their designs allow – but not without cannibalising the magic in the rest of the enchantment. Even the cheapest brooms have safeguards to prevent this, which you have just broken.

Realising what is about to happen, you hurl yourself off the broom. A moment later the Shooting Star zooms forward with a loud crack, faster than any Comet, scattering your fellow first years as it streaks through them. As it consumes the spellwork animating it from within, for once in its existence it resembles its namesake – a bright streak visible even in the morning sky.

But alas, the candle that burns brightest burns shortest of all. Its magic spent, you watch the broom as it falls from the sky and lands in the Black Lake with a splash.

"Nyx!" shouts Madam Hooch, having made her way beside you.

You rise to you feet, expecting punishment, but notice she looks more confused than angry.

"Maybe it would be best if we kept you on the ground," she says.

You can't help but nod.

=========================

"You know, I thought Longarse was the worst flyer at Hogwarts, Nyx, but compared to you he's Ethan Parkin," sneers Draco as you walk past, doing your best to ignore him. Crabbe and Goyle by his side laugh sycophantically.

The rumour mill at Hogwarts had spun once more after your eventful Flying lesson. Most are simply bewildered that you managed to make a Shooting Star move so fast, but a few, mainly Slytherin, use it as fuel for mockery.

"Father's not going to be happy you destroyed school property!" shouts Draco from behind, as you turn a corner.

You scowl. You hadn't gotten in trouble for destroying the broom, so Draco's just trying to get under your skin.

You hope.

Once more you descend into the ghostly ballroom to practise your channelling, and to see if you can coax more Shyish from the ambient magic. After several more hours of practice, the results remain mixed.

You can more consistently "hook" a tendril of Shyish to a cord of ambient magic, but you have not attempted to yank more Shyish free since the energetic results of your last attempt.

Manipulating Shyish consistently into delicate patterns helps give you a more intuitive understanding of how the local magic behaves, but you struggle to put that understanding into words.

And try as you might, you can not seem to pull more Shyish from your surroundings. Part of you is frustrated, but another part knows that it is unrealistic to expect breakthrough after breakthrough in only a few months

Attempting a few lesser spells, you find that you are noticeably more efficient with your magic. It's not that noticeable in the saturated ballroom, but you are slower to deplete the ambient magic when you try some spellwork in an empty classroom.

Progress, then, if not in the form you expected.

A thought occurs to you as you walk back to your common room. Instead of trying to channel the limited Shyish in your surroundings, you could try to make yourself more resonant with Shyish. The local ambient magic behaves in a way more consistent with Shyish when close to beings or materials resonant with the wind – that is the entire reason why the ghostly ballroom is such a good place for you to practise your spellcraft.

A similar principle holds true back home. There is a reason that Amethyst wizards dress as they do, and it is not just for fashion or identification, like the heraldry and colours of a muggle regiment. The more resonant a wizard with his wind, the better they can channel it.

You've noticed your pomander does attract a certain amount of ersatz Shyish, as does the mark on your hand.

There are restrictions on Hogwarts uniforms, and dressing like Magister Orpheum, bones and all, would certainly raise eyebrows, but there are more subtle things you can do – sewing things on the inside of your robes, wearing things under them… Not to mention that the dress code is more relaxed when classes are not in session – Dean spends much of his weekends not in robes, but in the glossy tunics and blue trousers you associate with the local muggles.

Potions represent another possibility. Not only are certain ingredients associated with death – hemlock, asphodel, parts of moths both magical and mundane – but certain finished potions draw ersatz Shyish to them. It should be fairly straightforward to find one, though one without undesirable effects when drunk might be more difficult.

Then comes the matter of your body. Amethyst wizards traditionally shave or pluck all the hair from their bodies, making them resemble a skeleton – though the effects of the Shyish they wield often beat them to it. You would have been expected to if you became a Journeyman. However this is more ceremonial than practical – some wizards do not bother with it afterwards, including the legendary Elspeth von Draken.

Tattoos are another possibility. Very common in the empire, many magisters and priests have them, to bring themselves closer to their god or their wind. They're rarer here – you've only seen them on a handful of students and no professors – but not unheard of.

You know how to make them. You've seen the process start to finish both in the hovels of Orci and the halls of the Amethyst College. You're less confident in your artistic skills, but you can always start simple.

Madam Pomfrey might have concerns, but she'd accepted that you'd suddenly manifested one tattoo. Maybe she wouldn't be too concerned about a second…

=======================

News of the World (November 11th - December 8th 1991)

Four stores hit by IRA firebombers, The Daily Telegraph

Science tames power of the Sun, The Daily Telegraph

Libya told to give up Lockerbie bombers, The Guardian

Ukrainians flock to vote in independence referendum, The Guardian

Storm of shells over Dubrovnik, The Independent

Anger at gay group's plan to leaflet schools, The Independent

Referendum possible on Euro-money, The Independent

In defence of misogyny, Evening Standard

"Jimmy the Chisel" brings terror to London's citizens and criminals alike, Evening Standard

Freddie dies of AIDS, Evening Mail

Pensioner foils attacker, Aberdeen Press and Journal

Bewildered magizoologists fail to find magical origin for Australian platypus, Daily Prophet

Obliviator Peasegood makes low-key return to Ministry, Daily Prophet

Dawlish made first High Inquisitor since end of You-Know-Who, Daily Prophet

A right to bare arms? MACUSA Congresswitch stages protest of chamber's "antiquated" dress code, Daily Prophet

Muggle singer mourned by wizard fans, Witch Weekly

Magical Europe embroiled in "codfish conspiracy", The Quibbler

==================


Spell Learned: Reaping Scythe
Trait Modified: Leadfoot
Trait Improved: Shyish Syphoning
Trait Earned: Nature of Magic – Beginner (1/?)

Vote 1: Research
Vote for as many as you wish. Top two will be chosen.

[ ] A trip to the library - The Hogwarts Library is a treasure trove of information. Spend some time there.
[ ] A trip to the library (Targeted): ______ - You have a specific topic you want to look into.
[ ] Targeted Effort, Class: _______ - Spend extra time on a specific class to get ahead.
[ ] Investigate Ectoplasm - Your investigation of the potential of ectoplasm hit a snag, but the substance still carries potential. Continue.
[ ] Investigate the Mirror of Erised - Dumbledore made it sound like the Mirror of Erised is an artifact with a great deal of history. See if you can find out anything about it.
[ ] Investigate ways to exorcize spirits - If you wish to combat malevolent spirits, or give the local ghosts release, you'll need something more substantial than Bane of the Ephemeral.
[ ] Investigate Nicholas Flamel – His name has been stuck in your head ever since Flitwick mentioned him when reading about arcane marks. Who is he?
[ ] Investigate Wordless Magic - Casting in silence carries many advantages, and casting in silence is less unusual for the locals than muttering Lingua Prestenia. You have a book that can help you from the Amethyst College Library, why not crack it open?

Vote 2: Practice
Vote for two, or double down on one (put DD after your vote to indicate this)

[ ] Practice Counterspelling - You haven't tried to dispel any of the local spells yet. You need to try at some point.
[ ] Practice Lore of Death spellwork - Work on your partially learned spells while they are still relatively fresh in your mind.
[ ] Shyish attraction - Try to find ways you can make yourself or your immediate surroundings more resonant with Shyish.
[ ] Scythe Training - Now that you have a handle on Reaping Scythe, practise your scythesmanship and hone your spellwork further.
[ ] Write in – _______

Vote 3: Curiosity
Vote for one

[ ] Ask Dumbledore what the status of Harry's assailant is.
[ ] Don't. You can't imagine asking Magister Patriarch Hexensohn a similar question.

Reaping Scythe
Raw DCs:
30/60/90/120
Bonuses: -25 (Foreign Ambient Magic) - 20 (Difficulty:Easy) - 10 (No Teacher) + 15 (Shyish Siphoning) + 10 (Where Ghosts Linger) + 15 (Magical Aptitude) + 15 (Many Reference Books) + 5 (Applied Spectral Metaphysiology) + 10 (Fully Attuned Wand) + 10 (Combat Magic) + 10 (Successfully used in combat) = 35 (-28 to DC, +7 to roll)
True DCs: 2/32/62/92
Roll: 1d100 + 7
Result: 42 + 7 = 49, Moderate success.

Reaping Scythe learned.

Flying attempt 2

Raw DCs:
40/80/120
Bonuses: +5 (Enchantment appraiser) + 10 (Months of observation and theory) + 10(Eyes turned skywards) + 15 (Flexible Caster/Fine control) - 10 (School Brooms) - 10(Cross-Wind Manipulation) - 20 (Leadfoot) = 0
True DCs: 40/80/120
Roll: 1d100 + 3
Result: 4, Major Failure!

Consequences - roll 1d6
Result:
6

No injury, "miscast" only destroys broom. No Dhar. "Leadfood" trait made more severe.

Shyish Syphoning

Raw DCs:
60/90/120
Bonuses: +15 (Magical Ability) + 10 (Flexible Caster) + 5 (Magical Theory) + 10 (Nature of Magic - Novice) - 15 (Foreign magic) = 25 (-20 to DC, +5 to roll)
True DCs: 40/70/100
Roll: 1d100 + 7
Result: 69 + 5 = 74. Moderate Success

Shyish syphoning improved situationally, avenues for increased Shyish availability theorised - bonus to those actions. Improved understanding of magical theory. Reduced penalty from foreign magic if taken again.


Five hour Moratorium
 
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Interlude: Birdwatchers
It had been a long time since Roy Green was young and dumb, thinking himself invincible. He knew the risks of his work. Between his competitors, the police, and the constant threat of betrayal, it sometimes surprised him that he was still free and breathing at 42.

Jimmy the Chisel and his enforcer were something new. A list of places to survey, orders written with letters cut from magazines, like some kind of Hollywood ransom note.

He was behind schedule and the gang was already asking questions. The money certainly helped, but even the dumbest among them were wondering where he'd gotten so many coins without involving any of them. Roy pours himself a few fingers of whisky, thinking over his choices. He takes a sip, only to immediately spit it out – it tastes like peaty seawater.

He'd had some of it just yesterday. He turns over the bottle in his hands, noticing some scratches – no, writing – in the glass just below the label.

Just salt
Jimmy's waiting

=====================

Click click click, goes the camera shutter inside a parked car, the two men inside doing their best to be subtle. Roy'd told them to survey the run-down, seemingly deserted pub, squeezed between a bookstore and record shop on Charing Cross road.

"Take photos of anyone walking in and out, or anyone who looks out of place."

He had not been keen on elaborating on what exactly that meant, and neither of the men in the car had been willing to press him.

Nobody had entered or exited the building since they began their watch. Not wanting to return empty handed, they'd taken photos of passersby that caught their attention – a punk covered in piercings and tattoos here, a group of drunks there, a few drag queens in flamboyant clothes, odd men and women in robes and cloaks, tourists, and quite a few attractive women.

"You know my mum said this photography nonsense would never pay the bills," says Greg Malcolm, the mousey man in the passenger seat, his voice chipper, "Shows what she knew, eh?"

Henry Smith, the grizzled, bald driver merely grunts, wishing he'd stop talking.

"This is some real stakeout shit, innit?" continues Greg, "Makes me feel like a proper pig."

Henry had considerably less enthusiasm for this task and was getting increasingly frustrated. Although, as he listened to his stomach growl, it could simply be that he was getting hungry.

"Go get me a kebab, I'm starving," he says, handing Greg a fistful of coins.

"What if we miss something?" asks Greg.

"We're not going to miss anything. Besides, there's that purple bus in the way."

Greg frowns.

"What purple bus?"

Henry turns and looks towards the pub, but there's no sign of the strange bus in sight.

"When did it drive away?" he asks, confused.

Greg looks back and forth between Henry's face and the pub, trying his best not to laugh.

"Whatever you're on, can you share?" he asks, holding back laughter.

Henry cuffs Greg on the head.

"Shut up and get me my food."

=====================

Paul Jones, a handsome tattooed youth, emerges from the back entrance of a dilapidated brick department store, a crowbar hidden under his jacket, wearing a looted curly blond wig. Bored, he'd left his partner behind to break into the back door of Purge and Dowse Ltd, the abandoned red brick department store they'd been sent to watch.

He'd found nothing but rats, ugly mannequins, clothes several decades out of fashion, and a few wigs.

Under the cover of night, he makes his way over to the front of the store, but stops as he turns the corner. In front of him, right by the shop window with the ragged mannequin, is a pale young woman with dark hair coming down past her shoulders. In one shaking hand, she holds an unlit cigarette near her mouth, and in the other she holds a long slender stick, tapping it against the tip of the cigarette as if willing it to light.

Paul saunters forward with a smile,

"Need a light, miss?" he asks, fetching a green plastic lighter from his pockets.

The woman blinks, startled, before nodding. Paul lights her cigarette, bathing their faces in a warm orange glow.

"Thank you," she says in a soft voice.

"What's somebody like you doing out here so late?"

"Just needed some fresh air and a smoke," she says, her voice wavering. A few moments of silence pass and Paul notices that her eyes are bloodshot and her cheeks wet with tears.

"Are you alright, miss?" asks Paul.

The woman squeezes her eyes shut, before letting out a choked sob, dropping her cigarette.

"No," she sobs, "Grandad's in there with Schofungulus, and the Healers say he might not make the night."

Paul remains silent, he doesn't recognize the illness but can certainly relate to the grief. He takes out one of his own cigarettes, lights it, then hands it to the woman.

"I was there when my nan died. Pancreatic cancer. I know it's rough," he says

"Thanks," says the woman, wiping her eyes. Paul lights his own cigarette, and for a few moments they simply smoke in comfortable silence.

"Sorry for keeping you. Are you going in?" she asks, gesturing to the storefront.

"In there?" says Paul with a laugh, "I have a feeling they're closed."

He gestures to the green nylon pinafore dress on the mannequin.

"For decades at least. That looks like something out of my mum's childhood pictures."

At that, the woman stiffens, her eyes flicking between Paul's face, his carton of cigarettes, and his plastic lighter.

"It's been nice talking to you," she says in a high voice, suddenly taking a step forward and to the left.

Thunk

Paul watches in horror as her face smacks into the glass storefront with enough force to crack both the pane and her nose.

"Oh shit!" says Paul.

"I'm fine," says the woman, blood dripping off her chin. She retrieves her stick from her pocket, and brings it to her face before lowering it, frustrated. Her eyes flick towards the window pane and dummy behind it.

"Stay here, I have some gauze in my car," says Paul, dashing away.

By the time he returns, the woman is long gone.

=======================

"You were told not to talk to anyone," growls Henry, joining Paul the next day – clearly he needed some supervision.

"She was harmless!" protests Paul, "Her grandpa was dying, she was just getting some fresh air."

"It didn't strike you as suspicious that the closest hospital is miles away? Hell of a walk to have a smoke, innit?"

As Paul stammers, Henry raises a pair of binoculars to his eyes, looking at the storefront

"I thought you said she cracked the glass with her face," he says.

"She did, yeah. Just walked into it."

"Then who fixed it?" asks Henry, looking at the dirty but intact glass of the storefront. Before Paul can answer, a flash of purple makes him look left and catch a glimpse of the backend of a purple bus disappearing down a narrow street.

======================

Greg Malcolm and Knuckles, a muscular enforcer, sit on a rooftop, keeping an eye on a certain flat. Knuckles thought there wasn't much to see. All the windows were shut, and nobody had entered the balcony since they started. Evidently, Greg disagreed, as he'd taken many photographs.

"What are you even taking pictures of? I don't see anyone," says Knuckles.

"The owls, they're going nuts for that flat," says Greg.

"Owls, really?" asks Knuckles.

"How many owls do you see at noon in the city? My cousin's really into birdwatching and he'd give his left bollock for these pictures."

"I'm sure Roy's going to love the photos of the local wildlife," says Knuckles, his voice deadpan.

Greg shrugs.

"Maybe a birdwatcher is paying us to do this."

===================

Two men in a cheap hotel room look down over an underground toilet. The front desk had mentioned it was a local oddity. There was a larger, more modern, more visible, more accessible, and most importantly free public toilet just down the street. It was a common joke that the Council had forgotten about it

Click click

Knuckles takes a photo of a man in a long coat entering the bathroom, putting another tally mark on a scrap of paper in front of him. This was a boring job, and his mind struggled for ways to make it interesting. He was on his fifth day and he'd already caught a few regulars entering and leaving at consistent times.

"They don't match," he mumbles.

"What was that?" asks Paul Jones, his companion.

"Look," he says pointing to the set of tally marks, "A lot of people go in in the morning, but only a few come out. In the evenings, it's the other way around. It's driving me spare."

"There's probably another entrance," says Paul, "Ah shit, does that mean we have to cover that one too?"

"I walked around the block, I don't think there is," says Knuckles tapping his pen on the sheet of paper, before handing the camera to his companion.

"Cover for me," he says, putting on his jacket.

"Where are you going?"

"To spend a penny," he says. Before Paul can protest, he's gone.

He crosses the street, walking by the spiked black railing down a flight of stairs labelled GENTLEMEN. It's dim and the black and white tiles are grimy, the stalls and laps are run down, there are no hand dryers in the walls, but it doesn't smell bad at all. There are no other entrances that he can see. There are also no urinals – an attempt to force everyone to pay to use a stall, no doubt.

As Knuckles scratches his head, the sound of footsteps and conversation come from the entrance.

"Morning Reg."

"Morning Dirk."

"Did you hear about Arnie from the Accidental…"

The pair come into view, both wearing jackets over longer coats, reaching down to their ankles. They look more than a little ridiculous. When they spot Knuckles, they fall silent. Giving eachother a look, they each insert a coin to enter one of the stalls.

Knuckles looks around, hearing flushing noises from behind him. There is only one other door here, and he'd assumed it simply led to a utility closet. He gives it a tug – it's locked.

"What are you doing there, son?"

Knuckles spins around toward the source of the question – an older man with grey hair in front of one of the stalls. He's wearing a long brown coat and a bowler hat.

"Finding a place to take a leak," answers Knuckles

The older man smiles, taking a step forward.

"Well, the stalls are right behind me, young man," he says.

Knuckles reads the writing above the coin slot and blinks.

"One quid to take a piss. Highway robbery that is," he scoffs.

The man smiles patiently.

"It is what it is. Perhaps the public toilet down the street might be more suited for you. It's free of charge. This isn't an appropriate place to dilly dally."

Knuckles snorts.

"I suppose you don't have any coin to spare, bruv?" he asks.

"Fresh out, I'm afraid," says the man.

Knuckles, no stranger to concealed weapons, notices the man wrapping his fingers around a thin baton in his pocket, his arm tensing as if preparing to strike. Keys jiggle in his pocket as he does this, and the border of an unfamiliar badge peaks through the top of his coat.

All that, the fake politeness, the power hungry attitude, and the same look of barely hidden disdain he'd seen in a hundred shops, stations, and clubs – it's obvious this is not a nosy pensioner, but a security guard. One that's considering taking a swing at him.

Well, the old man might be thin as a rail but he certainly didn't lack guts.

Knuckles brushes his fingers against the brass knuckles in his pocket before thinking better of it. There was little to be gained by fighting old men. Either you win and you're the devil, no matter how much they deserve it, or you lose and you're a joke.

He grunts and walks past the old man while flashing a rude gesture, and climbs the stairs back up to the street, leaving with more questions than answers.

===================

In a dark alleyway, Obliviator Flint crouches over the dazed figure of Greg Malcolm. His face is covered in blood, the result of crashing into a bin during his attempted escape.

His trainee Beatrice Bole, a witch fresh out of Hogwarts, casts spells to deflect any attention from passing muggles.

"Legilimens," barks Flint, his piercing eyes boring into the muggle's mind. Legilimency is never an exact art and Flint is hardly its most talented practitioner, but he can still get some flashes:

Unfamiliar associates, his camera, breaking glass, pocketing valuables, piles of muggle currency – no sign of anything magical.

"What did you see, sir?" asks Beatrice, "Has the statute…."

"No," growls Flint, "Just a petty thief, casing the flats. Didn't see anything magical."

Beatrice remains silent for a moment.

"Should we report it?" she asks.

Flint scowls. By the letter of the regulations he had to file a report if there was any possibility Obliviator operations had been compromised. It was possible that the muggle had taken a picture of something magical, or that he might return if his memory was simply erased. He glances at his watch. His shift was almost over, and he really didn't want to deal with Macmillan – not when he was on thin ice after the pub debacle.

"No," says Flint, "We'll just erase his memory and take care of the camera. Waking up in an alley injured should stop him from coming back."

Beatrice nods nervously.

"Should we log the camera?" she asks, "For evidence?"

That would involve hours of paperwork, developing, going through the photos with a magnifying glass… Flint flicks his wand and the camera explodes into a thousand pieces. Beatrice jumps back with a yelp.

"No need. This is a summary obliviation," says Flint.

A few moments later, Flint and Beatrice apparate from the alley, leaving Greg with his memories erased, camera smashed – and several canisters of exposed film still intact in his pockets.

==========================

Despite his best effort to hide it, Henry can tell when his boss Roy is agitated.

Rings are visible under his eyes flicking through the stack of photographs. His drinks cabinet is empty, and his furniture has been shifted to block some of the windows.

"He really doesn't remember anything?" says Roy, breaking the silence.

"No," says, "The cut wasn't too bad, but he must have hit his head. He didn't even remember he took any photographs."

There was nothing immediately strange about the photos taken, save that some of them had figures matching those taken on Charing Cross road, and by the entrance to the underground toilet.

"Any other problems?"

Henry sighs.

"A few scuffles on rival turf, a couple bothersome bobbies… turns out it's not a great time for a few dodgy blokes to go around taking photographs where they don't belong."

======================

Roy Green sits in green Mini Cooper, eyes set on a certain tree across the road – in it was concealed a thick envelope of photographs.

He knew this was risky, he wasn't supposed to linger after making the drop and Jimmy's woman seemed to have eyes and ears everywhere. He'd taken precautions – taken a different car, informing his gang he would be elsewhere. He'd only brought along his brother Garry – he did odd jobs in Leeds and hadn't been in London for years. Hopefully he would be unknown to her.

Roy glances over. His brother, clearly bored, is still watching for any sign of a pickup. He's wearing his lucky charm, a tattered old Arsenal bucket hat covered with the fading signatures of old players. Roy was grateful he didn't ask too many questions.

Hours pass with no signs of any pickup. Eventually, hunger makes itself known.

"The usual?" asks his brother. Roy nods, and his brother leaves. There was a nearby Indian place they'd gotten takeout from since they were children.

Roy rubs his eyes, taking a sip of energy drink. What if they'd been rumbled?

Suddenly, the locked door of the car pops open and a figure plops down into the passenger seat. At first Roy thinks it is his brother, spotting the familiar hat. Wearing it, however, is an unfamiliar sunglass wearing woman holding a very familiar flintlock pistol.

"Hands on the wheel," says the woman.

Roy, snarling, complies. A taunt, whether she was going to shoot him in broad daylight on the side of a crowded park, dies on his lips. She was certainly mental enough to do it.

"Roy, Roy," she says in a mocking tone, "I thought you knew about the fundamentals of a dead drop. You're not supposed to stay behind. It was clever, hiding in your sister's car, but not…"

Only now does the significance of her hat sink in.

"Where's my brother?" he interrupts, "What did you do to him?"

"Relax, he's still alive. Just flirting with some of the staff," she answers, "And if you don't upset me, he won't be floating down the Thames by nightfall."

Roy wants to lunge at her, to kill her or die trying, but he feels paralyzed by fear. It wasn't his first time staring down the barrel of a gun, but this was different.

"I suppose this does let me kill two birds with one stone. I can just debrief you here. Honestly these photos are better than I expected. I like the ones with the owls."

Roy blinks. He'd gotten angry at Greg for wasting so much film on them. He'd only included them at the woman's insistence to give her all the photographs they'd taken.

"Any trouble?" asks the woman.

"One of our boys was sent to the hospital near one of the flats you had us watch," snarls Roy, "but I'm sure you already knew that."

"What an unexpected occupational hazard," says the woman, her voice dripping with sarcasm, "Who ever heard of a gangster being roughed up on the job?"

As Roy seethes, the woman pulls out one of the photographs – a man in a heavy coat with many golden pins, wearing a hammer as a necklace, dragging a maul behind him. It was one of the photos taken on Charing Cross road.

"When was this taken?" she asks.

Roy scoffs.

"When do you think? The date is in the bottom corner," he answers, stating the obvious.

The woman is uncharacteristically silent for a few moments, her eyes flicking to the timestamp on the corner of the photograph.

"Right, Halloween… Well aside from this little hiccup," she says gesturing to the binoculars and camera in the car, "you've done well. Here's your payment."

The woman hands him a cloth pouch. Roy examines it, finding it to be full of lumps of melted gold and smaller pouches of gemstones.

"What am I supposed to do with this?" he asks.

The woman scowls.

"You're a criminal, aren't you? Use a damn fence," says the woman, "Honestly, how did you operate before you met me?"

With that, the woman leaves the car, and Roy sees her disappear down an alley in the rearview mirror. As he tries to calm himself down, his brother returns to the car, food in hand.

"Please tell me I left my hat in here."

AN: Rolls redacted
 
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In Memory of Blauki and Lämmlein
[X] Investigate ways to exorcize spirits - If you wish to combat malevolent spirits, or give the local ghosts release, you'll need something more substantial than Bane of the Ephemeral.
[X] Investigate Ectoplasm - Your investigation of the potential of ectoplasm hit a snag, but the substance still carries potential. Continue.

[X] Practice Counterspelling - You haven't tried to dispel any of the local spells yet. You need to try at some point.
[X] Practice Lore of Death spellwork - Work on your partially learned spells while they are still relatively fresh in your mind.

[X] Don't. You can't imagine asking Magister Patriarch Hexensohn a similar question.

As December continues, Professor McGonagall makes a list of those staying at Hogwarts over Christmas break.

"The Headmaster has informed me of your situation, Mister Nyx," she says to you, "Your name has already been added."

You nod, never under the impression you'd have much choice. You get a glimpse of the rest of the list. Almost half of it is Weasleys – Percy, Fred, George, and Ron. Harry is also staying, as you knew he would.

"If only they'd let me stay over summer too," he'd said, a few days ago.

That had made you think about your own future. Hogwarts was not like the colleges, housing wizards year-round until they were ready to venture into the world outside. Even muggleborns, with no other connections to the wizarding world, were sent home over the summer, trusted to avoid trouble.

You feel an odd sense of disappointment when you don't see certain names on the list – Sally-Anne, Neville, and Susan all intend to leave for the holidays, as does your entire tabletop group. Zeynep Karasu, like several other older students, is staying behind to take advantage of the empty castle to get work done, though you know in her case it'll be tinkering with her wireless rather than studying for OWLs or NEWTs.

==========================

Having finished your homework early, you practise some of your college spellwork. You'd left the Amethyst College with several spells half learned, ranging from having read about the theory, to being on the cusp of casting the spell itself. So in the familiar ghostly ballroom, you get started on review.

Your knowledge of Tide of Years, limited as it is, has already proven useful. Being able to degrade materials into forms that are resonant with Shyish is the only reason you have had any success in practical Transfiguration. Fortunately, the structure of the spell is rather simple. All you need to do is to practise channelling a greater amount of Shyish into it. Your progress is quick, and by week's end you find you can turn a nail into a handful of rust in less than a minute.

Spectral Stair is trickier. The spell involves quickly creating small platforms of Shyish to step onto. Thanks to your experience with Reaping Scythe, you are no stranger to creating solid constructs of your wind. In some ways, creating the platforms is easier – they are simpler structures and need only to last a fraction of a second. In others, it is much more difficult – they must be tethered in place and many of them must be created in rapid succession, one with every footstep. After many failed attempts, you manage to create a singular block that can take your weight for the briefest of moments before winking out of existence.

As you finish practice, you hear a familiar cackle approaching the ballroom – Peeves. You clench your teeth. You rather liked this little nook, and wouldn't be pleased if Peeves were to run you out of it.

"Zaggy!" says Peeves, cartwheeling through the air around you. You notice in his hands a small grey cactus, covered in boils instead of spines, "Why are you here? You're no ghost."

Neither are you, you think, holding your tongue.

Peeves doesn't bother all students equally. He has a rapport with those he finds amusing, most notably the Weasley twins, and is not immune to flattery.

"I wanted to thank you," you say, with sincerity.

Peeves looks taken aback for a moment, before giving you a wide grin.

"You are welcome, Zaggy. But which of Peeves' stupendous actions are you thankful for?" he asks.

"The fireworks on Von Alxber's Night," you answer, "You acted as a divine instrument of Morr. Thanks to you, Neville was saved from great danger."

"Who are you calling an instrument?" says Peeves, before flying in circles around you, imitating the noises of horns and drums, "I guess I am a pretty loud instrument."

You sigh.

"That you are, Peeves."

"I have MORR offerings for you, Zaggy," says Peeves, with a predatory look.

"What sort of offerings?" you ask, a dread building up in your stomach.

With a cackle, Peeves squeezes the fleshy cactus in his hands. Spurts of foul-smelling dark green sap gush from the boils, drenching your robes and hair. It smells of rancid manure. Cackling madly, Peeves zooms away.

For the briefest of moments, you consider manifesting a Reaping Scythe and giving chase. No, that wouldn't work. He was much faster than you. Also, it wouldn't help your reputation. Clenching your teeth, you gather your belongings, careful not to get any of the sap on them, and leave the ghostly ballroom.

You'd intended to go straight to the Great Hall for supper. That was no longer an option, as other students and even portraits hold their noses and retch as you pass by. You're on your way to Ravenclaw Tower to wash yourself when you hear the familiar voice of Neville.

"Is that Mimbulus Mimbletonia?" he asks. He holds his nose, but is clearly more fascinated than disgusted.

"I'm sorry?" you say.

"It is! You're covered in its sap. Did Professor Sprout let you tend them? What was it like?" he says, a hint of envy in his voice.

"No," you say, "Peeves had a plant, he squeezed it, and it sprayed this stuff…"

"Stinksap," interrupts Neville. Aptly named.

"... on me. I need to clean it off." you continue.

Neville nods.

"You should go to Professor Sprout, she's in the Greenhouses. She can get it off really easily, and she'd like to know if Peeves stole one of her Mimbulus Mimbletonias – they're very rare. If you try to scrub it off with soap and water, it'll take hours."

You accept and walk with him to the greenhouses, as he excitedly describes all the properties of Stinksap. Somehow, you are not comforted by the fact that the sap covering you is theoretically valuable.

==========================

Once more, you are invited to Professor Dumbledore's office alongside Professor Flitwick. Today, your destination in the Pensieve is Geheimnistnacht. Your younger self, a child of six, stands by your hovel's chicken coup, making sure it is secure for the night ahead. One of the birds is absent – the rooster with blue feathers along his back.

"Blauki!" your past self shouts into the night, distressed. You'd rather liked that rooster. He wasn't aggressive like many others, and you'd often stroke and pet him like a cat. He was also rather clever and had a habit of escaping.

Your past self walks a few steps away from the house, and looks for him in the nearby bushes.

"Zagreus, come in now!" booms a hooded figure from your doorway. Your father.

"Blauki's gone!" your past self shouts.

"And you'll be too if you don't come in!"

He has a point. The darkness of night is receding, not with the breaking dawn, but with the waxing of Morrslieb. The fell moon is bright and sickly green in the sky, larger than Mannslieb, its craters and seas resembling a wicked grin.

"Merlin's beard," exclaims Professor Flitwick, besides you.

Your past self looks around for a few moments longer, before making his way back home. The three of you follow and walk through the door just as your father bolts it shut with a beam of wood.

The inside of the hovel brings back memories. It's one room, with soot-covered timber walls, a thatch roof, and an earth floor covered in straw, with a hearth on one end. The furniture is sparse: A crude table, a handful of chairs, and a straw mattress covered with sheep skins. A ladder leads to a small loft – you slept there when you didn't need the heat of your parents. One wall has a shrine to your ancestors, high off the ground to be out of reach of the livestock. It's a simple thing, a shelf with a wooden box containing the keepsakes of the departed, a few small wooden statuettes carved from wood, and a single flickering candle.

It's odd to think about, considering the relative abundance of the Amethyst College and the extravagance of Hogwarts, but candles were a luxury for you growing up. You made due with light from the hearth, and strands of rush soaked in animal fat.

Above the shrine your family tree is carved into the wall, depicting hundreds as it goes back generations. Created by your illiterate parents, it has symbols in place of written names. Many of these represent aspects of their lives – a large herd of sheep for a particularly successful shepard, a mill for a miller, and anvil for a smith, gallows for an executed criminal, a crude crest for the bastard child of local nobility, a magnificent beard or strong arms for ancestors known for them. Others, particularly for those further in the past, are more literal. A wolf for many of the Lupuses, Ulvas, Adolfs, Ralfs, and Wolfgangs. A spear for the Gertrudes, Gerards, and Franzes…

The portion representing your parents is the most intricate. Their faces are simple and hardly recognizable, but they are depicted in an embrace surrounded by sheaves of wheat, flowers and woolly sheep – symbols of Rhya and Narvorga.

Beneath them lies a blank space for many future children, empty save for a skeletal man holding a scythe and a lamb and standing by a river, meant to represent you.

One of the first things your parents had you do once you learned your letters was to scratch the names by the symbols. It was your favourite chore. Once, you could name every person carved into this wall, now you find you can not. Your parents would be so disappointed, if they didn't already hate you for being a wizard.

On the rest of the walls hang tools, baskets, bulbs of garlic, dried flowers, and herbs. Their purpose was practical, but they were laid out in a way that looked neat and pleasing.

You look upon your father as he lowers his hood. Green eyes, black hair, thin moustache, fewer grey hairs and wrinkles – he is more youthful than when you last saw him.

Next to him, a dozen sheep, pigs and a single mule mill around, occasionally chewing on a bit of hay. Beyond them, you spot the faded dress of your mother, a wreath of protective plants around her long brown hair. You swallow as agitation creeps into your body, hoping that Dumbledore and Flitwick haven't noticed – thankfully they seem distracted trying to cover their noses. As she turns around you first avert your eyes, before forcing them upwards to her face – but you don't see it.

Her face looks like it has been scribbled over with a large piece of charcoal. As you blink in confusion and rub your eyes, your mind goes to Dumbledore's memory of the Grey Wizard, but this is different. Instead of a memory of nothing it is a memory of something that has been covered. Indeed, you can catch peeks of the skin beneath as the black marks shift and warp.

But why? You know you have memories of your mother's face. She had brown eyes, wide lips, and scars where boils from an old illness had not quite faded. You remembered her, so why couldn't you see?

"I don't… I don't know…" you say, a catch in your throat.

You feel Dumbledore's hand on your shoulder.

"It's alright, Zagreus," he says in a gentle voice, "I've seen this before."

Your mother walks over to your younger self, giving him a smack on the head. Distorted words leave her lips. They are unintelligible to your ears, but you remember what she said:

"Do not ever linger outside like that again, Lämmlein!"

Your past self's protests about Blauki's fate fall on deaf ears. Your mother fetches a small bowl of foul smelling paste, a poultice made of garlic and herbs, and applies it to your neck and chest.

Your surroundings dissolve and reform. It's later in the night. Your younger self and your parents are huddled together on the straw mattress. The animals bleat and squeal in distress and your younger self whimpers.

The sounds coming from outside are more disturbing still. Howling wind, rattling metal and wood, baying wolves, unintelligible whispers, scratching noises, human screams, and the sound of a crying infant. It is difficult to tell which sounds are mundane, and which are a trick of the night.

You've lived through this many times – the lines between the Aethyr and the mundane becoming perilously thin. It's like a needle piercing your head, passing through bone and flesh, scraping something deeper within.

"Tell me a story," whimpers your younger self, as the light from the hearth flickers.

Your father clears his throat.

"There once was a pale man with dark hair who was very lonely…"

"Why?" you interrupt.

"All men caught glimpses of him, but only in the end could they meet. By then, well… they weren't the best company."

"What did he do?"

"He took a blade, and split himself into two," says your father, "right down the middle."

"But why?" your past self asks, wide-eyed.

"So he would always have a friend," says your father.

Before your younger self can start begging for another story, the deep voice of Brother Landrich cuts through the night:

"Men of Orci, I have just seen that your parents and grandparents are deep in slumber. Their old bones must be tired from the revelry."

Your parents chuckle, shaking their heads.

"We stand midway through the Night of Mystery. All the foul creatures of the world bay at the vile moon, and the moon bays back. For generations, before our grandfathers, before their grandfathers, before Stirland, before Sigmar and Queen Freya, before the first Asoborn tribesman sharpened a stick, men have suffered under the baleful light of Morrsleib."

A blood curdling howl cuts through the night, but Brother Landrich continues unfettered.

"But to have suffered means to have persisted. Our continued existence spits in the face of the beastman, the vampire, the heretic, the daemon, the witch, and any who might dare draw strength from the foul moon. For centuries we have persevered, and so long as our faith holds, for centuries more we shall!"

Another howl, this time drowned out by the beat of a drum, coming from the direction of the Garden of Morr.

"One day we will all die. For many of us it will not be peaceful. But Morr, shepherd of souls, has granted me some wisdom after a touch of slumber and wine…"

For a moment, the night is silent, as if waiting for him to continue.

"NOT HERE! NOT YET!"

Loud drumming continues from the direction of the temple. One by one, the village joins in – beating drums, strumming fiddles, blowing whistles and horns. Those who lack instruments shout hymns and prayers, bang pots and pans, slam their fists against their walls or simply scream into the night – not in fear, but in defiance.

And for the rest of the night, Geheimnisnacht is just a little less bleak.

Once more your surroundings dissolve and reform. You are no longer in your hovel, but outside. The sky is cloudy and dreary, but there is no sign of Morrslieb. All around you the labour of recovery continues. In the fields and orchards, villagers take sickles and axes to blighted crops, Several others examine deep scratches on the outside of a timber wall. Still others carry blighted things to a roaring bonfire – contaminated food, barrels, buckets, and rags smelling of foul ichor, birds, calves and piglets with too many limbs or eyes. In the distance you see a team of villagers cleaning a firebreak around an unsalvageable plot which must be set ablaze.

"This happens every year?" squeaks Professor Flitwick, staring at his surroundings wide-eyed.

"Twice, sir. Hexensnacht is almost as bad, but at least it's predictable," you say, "This one was rough but… father always said a good Gehiemnisnact is one where everyone still has the same number of limbs afterwards. In that, I guess we couldn't complain."

A cluck comes from a nearby shrub. You tense up, knowing what's coming. Your younger self, ignorant, looks between the leaves, catching a glimpse of blue feathers.

"Blauki?" asks his soft voice.

A blue mass suddenly erupts from the bush. What was once a handsome rooster is now a twisted misshapen thing. Its eyes are red, reptilian scales cover its face, and its tongue now lolls out of its beak, long and barbed. Small tendrils of flesh emerge between sickly, blood soaked feathers. To your surprise, it is not actually much larger than Blauki, but you can see why your younger self thought otherwise.

Your past self freezes as what used to be Blauki charges. It takes a few steps, sharp talons digging small furrows into the soil, before your father knocks you out of the way and lunges with a pitchfork. It lands true, impaling the creature to the dirt. It thrashes and tries to attack, but with a final twitch, quickly dies.

Your past self whimpers. The rest of the village looks over in alarm, only to resume their tasks when they see the creature is dead and your past self uninjured. Your father looks at you, not sure what to say. He always saw your affection for Blauki as foolish. More than once, he'd threatened to cook him for supper. But in this memory, his face is not void of sympathy.

"It was a mercy, Zagreus," he says, extending his hand and pulling you up, "Go to your mother and help her inside."

Your younger self walks home in a daze, eyes welling with tears. Your father heads to the pyre with Blauki still stuck to his pitchfork. After a few moments he stops and looks back, waiting until he sees your past self go inside.

The memory dissolves once more, and this time you find yourself back in Dumbledore's office. The three of you are silent. You avert your gaze, conscious of your professors' looks. You'd meant for the memory to show the nature of Morrslieb and its corruptive influence when its power was at its greatest. In that you'd certainly succeeded, but hadn't expected to see so much of your family. It was a distraction from what was truly important. You gather yourself, expecting to be bombarded with questions related to Geheimnistnacht and the corrupting nature of Dhar.

"Are you alright, Zagreus?" squeaks Professor Flitwick.

You nod hesitantly.

"It's just a memory, sir" you say, "Even in the Pensieve it's just only a pale shadow of the true Geheimnisnacht."

"That's good, but I meant…" Professor Flitwick hesitates, "You are not the first student to face… violent rejection at the hands of their family," says Professor Flitwick, "My door is open should you need an ear to listen, without judgement."

Dumbledore nods, staring at you intently over his half moon spectacles.

"Hogwarts is not just a place of learning, but also a sanctuary," says Dumbledore, "Help will always be given at Hogwarts to those that ask for it."

For a few moments you sit in silence, staring at the stone floor. This is not where you expected the conversation to go.

"Thank you, but all of that… it's in the past. Another life, almost. I know that I don't…" you say, pretending to scratch your head to wipe a tear from your cheek, "I know I am more than a danger to be stamped out. The Amethyst College, Magister Orpheum… they taught me that."

Professor Flitwick and Dumbledore look at each other for a few moments, before serving you some lemon drops, tea, and a big chunk of chocolate. For a while longer the three of you speak of Hogwarts and classes, with no more mention of your past.

"Sir, I was wondering… What will happen if I am still here when the school year ends?" you ask hesitantly.

I can't exactly go home, remains unspoken.

Dumbledore strokes his beard. Flitwick looks at him, evidently also interested in his answer.

"There is nothing set in stone, Zagreus, but it is a matter that is on my mind as well. No matter what happens, rest assured we shall take care of you."

You nod and the conversation continues. Eventually, Professor Flitwick jolts upright upon catching a glimpse of his pocket watch and excuses himself. You move to leave soon afterwards, but find yourself lingering by the door. When you turn around Professor Dumbledore is looking at you expectantly with a smile.

You open your mouth to ask him if Harry's assailant has been caught, but stop yourself. This is a serious matter, and it would be impertinent to ask directly. Perhaps you'd feel for comfortable asking Magister Orpheum such a question, but your remind yourself that Professor Dumbledore is more like Magister Patriatch Hexensohn. You knew nothing about how he was handling the situation, and there was nothing to be gained by sticking your nose into it.

Unease builds in your stomach. Harry, like you, was staying at Hogwarts over Christmas break. If his would-be assassin tried again, would he find him an easier target in the emptier castle, or would the lack of students and visitors to blend in with styme them?

"Harry Potter thinks Professor Snape was responsible," you say. It's not a question, but information that Dumbledore might find useful. It wasn't even a betrayal of Harry's trust – he was hardly subtle about his feelings regarding the Potions Master.

Dumbledore smiles, almost looking amused.

"And do you?" he asks.

You shake your head.

"Good," he says, "I can say with certainty that it was not Professor Snape."

You remain silent for a moment.

"He was trying to dispel the attack, wasn't he?" you say.

Dumbledore's eyes twinkle as he looks at you for a few moments.

"He would appreciate that you think so highly of him," says Dumbledore, "Enjoy the rest of your evening, Zagreus."

You recognize a dismissal when you hear one and nod, stepping outside.

===========================

In the ghostly ballroom once more, you take a moment to look at the Marsh Lights lazily floating around you. Once by one, you prod them with tendrils of Shyish, and one by one they wink out of existence.

It's a promising start to your attempts at dispelling, but you know the true test will come when you put your own skills against the locals' magic. This presents something of a problem – not only can you not cast as the locals do, but dispelling others' magic is drastically different than dispelling your own. You'll either need a local wizard to cast the spell, or to practise on objects that have already been enchanted.

VOTE - Dispelling practice

[ ] Practise with somebody – if you have a partner casting spells such as the Wand-Lighting or Levitation charms, you can try your best to disrupt them. If it's somebody you get along with well, they may not even blab about it.
[ ] Practise sneakily - Hogwarts is full of hundreds of students performing thousands of acts of petty magic every day. Nobody will notice if a handful of practised spells act strangely.
[ ] Practise on static charms - Hogwarts has no shortage of magically enchanted objects – from discarded gobstones, to simple blocks used to practise the Colour Change Charm. It won't be precisely like dispelling magic actively being cast, but perhaps it would be helpful in its own right.
[ ] Write in - ______

AN: Practising with a specific person would be a valid use of the write in. Your spell learning roll is yet to be revealed because there are more scenes to write involving it.
 
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Clones and Vampires
AN: I misremembered which "Ask Dumbledore" option won by one when typing up the last update. The option NOT to ask actually won by one vote. So I have rewritten part of the last update, the last part of your conversation with Dumbledore. Feel free to go back and reread that part, and sorry about that.

[X] Practice with Harry Potter - he reacted well to your use of Reaping Scythe, you know he has some experience with non-curriculum spells (the ice one), and you did give him advice for his duel, so now he can return the favour.

Penny manages to squeeze in one more tabletop session before the end of the year. You begin where you'd left off, with your ship crashed into the "communication dish" of an Imperial prison.

What was planned as a sneaky raid on an Imperial prison to extract a rebel spy has turned into a full blown battle. Thanks to the holes you've blown in the facility, all the guards you have killed, and the weapons you've dropped on the inmates, a massive battle has broken out.

Through Sue Li's – no, R2-D20's – slicing, your party locates your quarry, and finds out that this facility is home to thousands of "clones."

"What is a clone?" you ask. You're pretty sure they're not an alien race – Penny seems to be describing humans.

"It's a copy of a person," explains Penny, "Like a twin."

You blink, thinking of the hundreds of clones Penny had mentioned.

"And they're all identical humans?" you ask.

"These ones are," she answers, "aside from scars, hair, and the numbers on their uniforms."

"But how would they all… fit?" you ask, confused.

"What do you mean?" she asks, not sure what you are getting at.

"Twins grow from the same womb at the same time. I know more is possible, but hundreds? How do they all… fit?" you ask, hesitantly.

Penny looks as though she is holding back laughter, as is the rest of your group. Justin Finch-Fletchey doesn't quite manage it.

"Clones aren't born! They're created," he says.

"How?" you ask with a frown.

Justin stops laughing and furrows his brows in thought.

"I don't know. Factories? Laboratories? Farms?" he says, uncertainly.

"I quickly explain to our primitive but capable companion the nature of clones and the Clone Wars," says Nikhil Singh, smiling, "Mostly because I want to know the basics too."

Despite your awkward encounter in the courtyard, Nikhil doesn't treat you any differently today. He was polite to you before the game started and his character has been helpful to your own – using his heavy blaster from afar so you can close the distance to your enemies, and risking his life to drag you to safety after you are heavily injured by blaster fire. You're not sure what to make of that.

Penny nods.

"Right, make a knowledge roll for me…"

Nikhil rolls well, and his character has a bonus for having previously fought on both sides of the Clone Wars as a mercenary. Satisfied, Penny explains that the enemies of the Old Republic had engineering so advanced that they were able to grow clones in vats. They cloned many intelligent races: Humans, large ork-like Gamorians, tall hairy Wookies, tiny mechanically gifted Jawas. Less intelligent creatures were also cloned for specific purposes: Massive Rancors as beasts of war, great swarms of batlike Mynocks to feed off and damage Republic void ships, mysterious tree-lizards sensitive to the same powers used by the Jedi.

Various batches were created from the same individual at different times, so their ages could vary wildly. Subjects were cloned due to being impressive physical specimens, or because they performed impressive deeds, with the hope their prowess ran in their blood.

"There were even efforts to clone the Jedi themselves," says Penny, "But most of the clones could not use the Force. Those that were forced to manifest those powers inevitably went insane, a greater threat to their creators than the Republic."

The Clone Wars saw a large number of clones captured as prisoners of war. With the rise of the Empire, their conditions worsened and any hope of release was extinguished. Instead, the Empire uses them as slaves, until they inevitably die of accidents, abuse, or old age.

Most relevant to your immediate situation is that the clones have no love for the Empire, were bred for combat, and many of them are veterans. Given the opportunity and weapons to turn on their captors, they are eager to take advantage.

Getting to your quarry is difficult, and you fight many foes. Penny takes the opportunity to show off some of her new enchanted models, resin figures in white armour with black blasters. She hasn't managed to get them to shoot bolts yet, so they point their tiny blasters and make distorted "pew, pew" noises.

Your character, Rex, reaps a bloody toll with his vibro-axe when you get close enough. Justin's Dan Duo and Nikhil's Mak Lunkey blast quite a few from a distance. Sally-Anne's Wicket makes great use of her small size, sneaking through narrow shafts to ambush guards, infiltrate fortified positions, and place explosives. Sue Li's R2-D20 does little fighting, but manages to use her slicing skills to take control of the prison's "systems," letting more inmates loose, turning the prison's defences against the guards, and opening or sealing doors to prevent the guards from regrouping.

Still, it's a tough fight. Your opponents are tougher than the pirates you fought earlier. Many of you sport severe injuries, kept fighting only by the near miraculous medicine available.

Eventually, you fight your way to the rebel spy. He is alive, but bears signs of torture. Now, it's time to leave. Your own ship is in no shape to fly, but the prison's "hangar" has a small voidship. You could steal it and flee.

As your party discusses what to do, it does not escape their notice that this would abandon the other prisoners to their fate. The guards might still be able to contain the riot. Even if the prisoners could escape into the wilderness, without a ship they could not leave the planet. Still a better fate than dying in an Imperial prison, but…

"Do clones have souls?" you ask.

Penny looks at you, surprised. You'd remained quiet during much of your party's debate.

"That's a philosophical question," she says, "There is no easy answer to that."

"What did the Jedi think?" asks Sally-Anne, "During the Clone Wars?"

"The Jedi," says Penny, thinking over her words carefully, "treated the clones with respect and dignity, like they did all sentient life."

"I think we should stay and help them, then" says Sally-Anne.

"Wait," cuts in Justin, "Aren't the rebels trying to bring back the Republic, the one the clones fought? Wouldn't the rebels hate the clones? Wouldn't the clones hate us?"

"They'd hate the Empire more, I think," says Nikhil, "The enemy of our enemy can be our friend. Besides I, I mean Mak Lunkey, also fought against the Republic, but he's here now."

Penny rubs her forehead as your party comes to an agreement, instead of towards the hanger, they head towards the last pockets of Imperial resistance, leaving the rebel spy with a clone tending to some of the other wounded prisoners.

To your groans of disappointment, Penny takes the opportunity to call it a night.

=================

The undead have no place in the world of the living. This is a central tenet of the Cult of Morr. Normally this is not a statement that requires much thought. The vast majority of undead are either puppets of bone and flesh, or spirits in torment who desire release.

As for the exceptions, the intelligent undead who wish to remain in the world of the living? Their desires matter not, not when their very existence is a blasphemy against Morr. The undead are by their nature a malignant force, hostile against mankind. Like beastmen or greenskins, coexistence is not possible.

So what then to make of the local ghosts? Their existence is considered a tragedy, but they are not hostile to the living. There are those in the priesthood who would say that your duty is to ensure that they all find release, even those that would resist it.

Perhaps not many would resist. From what you have gathered talking to them, most ghosts crave release, but as time passes they accept it as an unattainable goal, one that would only bring them further pain and disappointment to pursue.

It was, as you'd been shocked to learn, a crime to kill a Vampire without "good reason" in Wizarding Britain. What would they say if you tried to help a ghost move on? What if you succeeded?

You've helped lay to rest wayward spirits that found themselves attracted to Orci's Garden of Morr, or the Amethyst College. You communicated with them, and helped figure out what kept them tethered to the material world – but you've never performed a divine ritual, or cast a spell to help them move on. You do not know how to cast Death's Release. Something tells you laying a local ghost to rest will take more than giving their body a proper burial or ensuring their affairs are in order – otherwise somebody else would have done it by now.

First, you need to read more on the local undead. It's a good excuse to finally finish the abridged version of Horrors of the Walking Dead sitting in your trunk. Sitting on your bed with curtains drawn, you crack open the book, veiled from prying eyes.

You read that the locals destroy Inferi on sight, considering them mindless abominations. Fortunate that their disturbing tolerance towards the dark arts doesn't go as far as tolerating them.

Local Vampires are in some ways familiar. They drink blood, have an aversion to sunlight, silver, and garlic, and are the result of an ancient curse. Vampires rise from corpses that carry the curse in their blood. After death, as with ghosts, the spirit or an echo of it remains behind. Unlike a ghost, this essence is corrupted and consumed by the curse, and a Vampire awakens as something new.

Certainly not all is changed after the transformation. Memories remain. Those familiar can often recognize the departed's habits, and his drives and dreams in the Vampire. Yet they are seen as through a glass darkly, shadowed and twisted.

According to the book, it is a matter of philosophical debate on whether the transformation adds a "dark presence" to the departed, or takes something away – perhaps the darkness was in them all along, set free once no longer burdened by a soul.

Notably, the book claims there is no equivalent to the Blood Kiss, how the Vampires of your home turn men into their own kind.

Vampirism can not be transmitted like Lycanthropy. Either one is born with the potential to give rise to a Vampire on death, or one is not. Neither can Vampires reproduce after their transformation. Vampiric bloodlines propagate through children begat before the transformation.

The local vampires are not immortal. They die of old age – or rather their bodies deteriorate until they can no longer contain what passes for their spirit. It is not unheard of for a Vampire to persist for fewer years than the person who gave rise to them – especially if they were a wizard.

So why aren't they hunted down? It's not an uncommon belief that they should be, one that you suspect the author of the book shares. Legally, this is prevented by the Guidelines for the Treatment of Non-Wizard Part-Humans, a decree by the International Confederation of Wizards that prevents the "arbitrary destruction" of Vampires.

The justification for the decree is that Vampires, while not human, are still people and can still exist as part of a well ordered society. Even if one accepts that they are inherently wicked, that does not justify summary execution. Deeds, not thoughts, must form the basis of justice.

They think Vampires closer to ogres than beastmen.

You can tell the author is sceptical of this. He suspects the decree was a result of politicking, to exact concessions from Transylvania, one of the more influential wizarding states, and where the power of Vampires is at its greatest. Much power there lies in the claws of "Vampire Courts" rather than the Transylvanian Ministry of Magic.

One detail is notable by its absence. There is no mention of a Vampire ever coming back after having its physical form destroyed.

A relief.

The book's section on Zombies has been shortened the most. Zombies are animated corpses, in which the soul of the deceased is trapped and unable to move on. They are a relatively recent discovery – while Inferi and Vampires are truly ancient, the first Zombies were raised several centuries ago on the island of Haiti.

Zombies are very dangerous creatures. They have the intelligence of the living, with the strength and sturdiness of an Inferious. Some of them can even use magic. They are also considered victims of dark wizards. Once free of their masters' control, most wish to pass on peacefully. The few that don't are viewed with deep suspicion.

Finally, you move on to the section on ghosts. There isn't much here, as this is a book on the horrors of the walking dead, but there is still enough to be interesting.

There is no evidence that local ghosts ever move on. They are mostly harmless, but can still intrude on the lives of the living. More malicious ones have been known to drive wizards to insanity and suicide, as they are still capable of speech and causing disturbances in air, water, and fire.

Wizards can force a ghost away from a certain location, or with great effort trap it in one, but they can not permanently remove a ghost from the material world. Sometimes the foulest spells can reduce ghosts to a state of torpor, where they resemble floating statues of swirling smoke, but even this is temporary.

It seems many have tried putting the local ghosts to rest, including some of the finest wizards of history.

But never a member of the Amethyst College.

Or the Cult of Morr.

======================

It is with a sense of relief that you return Horrors of the Walking Dead: Abridged Edition to a stern Madam Pince. You run into Professor Quirrell in the halls soon afterwards, his turban askew and covered in patches of melting snow. He tries to quickly squeeze past you and is startled when you address him.

"Zagreus!" he yelps, his voice distorted by the transparent magical bubble enclosing his head, "H-how can I h-help you?"

"I finished Horrors of the Walking Dead, sir," you say, "the abridged version, of course."

Professor Quirrell takes a step back, nodding nervously.

"W-was it an educational read?" he asks.

You nod

"It's odd that Zombies…"

Professor Quirrell shudders at that word.

"...were created so recently. They didn't exist a few centuries ago. I thought the undead were… timeless." A pitiful trick, unworthy of my mastery.

Professor Quirrell nods.

"The D-d-dark Arts are no s-s-stranger to new ideas. It is p-part of the r-reason my class is s-so important," he says with a pained smile, taking another step back.

For a moment you have the very strange thought that Professor Quirrell is afraid of you. Why? Had he found your use of Reaping Scythe more disturbing than impressive?

No, you're being ridiculous. Professor Quirrell is probably just dealing with recovering from his injury and his approaching demise. He definitely looks less well than he did at the beginning of the school year.

You take a step back, so you don't crowd him.

"The section on Vampires was very… enlightening, sir," you say. A dying race, consigned to ash.

"H-how so?" asks Professor Quirrell.

"Well, sir, I always thought Vampires immortal creatures, with a habit of coming back even if they were struck down in battle." Perhaps once, now their blood is diluted.

Professor Quirrell laughs nervously.

"My, my, Zagreus. V-vampires are q-quite threatening as is!" Hardly. Base creatures who think themselves gods. Even Werewolves and Veela make for more savage foes.
"And they are truly allowed to walk among us?" you ask.

"They are. Albeit w-w-watched closely. At least in B-britain. You are n-not the only one d-disquieted by that."

Professor Quirrel motions to leave, but you can't resist asking one more question.

"Did the Vampires support You-Know-Who, sir? I know that he used Inferi…" Too foolish to join me… They would have been brought to heel with time.

"N-not that I…." says Professor Quirrell, "No. Not many in B-britain…"

"What about Grindelwald?" you ask, remembering that conflict was fought across many other countries.

Professor Quirrell shudders nervously for a few moments.

"I believe there were V-vampires on b-both sides of that w-war," he says.

You frown. Vampires on Professor Dumbledore's side? No doubt they had their own selfish reasons. As Professor Quirrell excuses himself and leaves, you are left with your own thoughts. Vampires permitted in the world of the living. Madness. They're different, sure, but not different enough.

You sigh, rubbing your temples.

What is one more fit of insanity in this strange world?

Gained Knowledge: Local Undead (Basic)

====================

Vote

As Christmas approaches, you'll have more free time, though fewer people to spend it with. Beyond your studies and your duties, what would you focus on? Choose three:

[ ] Visiting Hagrid – Hagrid is busy getting the castle ready for Christmas and is staying behind to take care of the grounds. Spend some time with him and his pets.
[ ] Christmas Spirit – you don't know much about Christmas, but you know it's a time for gift giving. Spend some time to give gifts to your friends.
[ ] Imperial Customs – Mondstile, Hexensnacht, Year's Blessing. Three days that fall on Christmas break. Observe the traditions, you cannot forget from where you came…
[ ] Wireless Winter – Zeynep Karasu is remaining behind during Christmas to tinker with her wireless set. While you intended to help her anyway, you could prioritise spending more time with her.
[ ] Harry and Ron – You intend to practise dispelling with Harry over Christmas. You could also try to interact with him and Ron outside of practice. You're not Dean, but there won't be many other people your age in the castle…
[ ] Academics – The work of a Hogwarts professor is never done, but they might have more free time during the holidays. Seek out your head of house, and perhaps others…
[ ] Ghosts – With the castle almost empty of the living, what better time to get to know the resident ghosts without judgement or distraction?
[ ] Write in - __________ (Subject to veto)

Vote BY PLAN. You may double down on an action at the cost of two choices, indicate this with DD.

6 hour moratorium
 
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Dangerous and Fragile
[X] Plan: Tis the Season
-[X] Christmas Spirit – you don't know much about Christmas, but you know it's a time for gift giving. Spend some time to give gifts to your friends.
-[X] Imperial Customs – Mondstile, Hexensnacht, Year's Blessing. Three days that fall on Christmas break. Observe the traditions, you cannot forget from where you came…
-[X] Harry and Ron – You intend to practise dispelling with Harry over Christmas. You could also try to interact with him and Ron outside of practice. You're not Dean, but there won't be many other people your age in the castle…

Much to the disappointment of Ron and Dean, the last Flying lesson of the year is held in a classroom – an extended warning not to fly unsupervised over Christmas break. Madam Hooch emphasises that while "most" of the class has learned the basics of flying, they have not learned how to hide themselves from muggles, or any spells to save themselves from a fall or crash.

She brings up the many risks of flying unsupervised: shoddy brooms, falls from great heights, crashing into things when flying at night, collisions with birds and insects, flying too high and fainting from thin air, attracting the attention of magical beasts…

She does not mince words – you lose count of the times she mentions death. Many of the students around you become increasingly pale as the lesson goes on.

"Do not fly in areas restricted by the Ministry due to muggle activity," says Madam Hooch, her yellow eyes scanning the class for any students not paying attention, "It will get you in trouble with the Ministry – if the muggles don't kill you first."

Blaise Zabini scoffs at that, whispering something to Pansy Parkinson nearby.

"Do you not believe me, Zabini?" barks Madam Hooch. As Zabini mumbles an apology, Madam Hooch fetches something from beneath her robes – a small glass jar filled with slivers of jagged metal.

"Well before any of you were born, I was at the wrong place at the wrong time. I ignored the Ministry warnings, and found myself in the middle of a muggle air raid. Caught in a firestorm of explosions, I crashed in the Thames. St Mungo's had to remove these from my brain and chest."

Much of the class winces, and even Zabini looks taken aback.

"It was only sheer dumb luck that I survived," says Madam Hooch, "and I assure you the muggles have only gotten better at swatting things from the sky."

The class remains silent.

"I would show you pictures of an encounter between a flying wizard and a muggle jet engine, but the headmaster said no. Rest assured it's not a pretty sight. Spinning blades and flying wizards do not mix well," Madam Hooch continues, "It's not just your own life. Muggle flying machines are dangerous but fragile things. If you are in the wrong place at the wrong time, you could end up killing many innocent people. Even if you survive, your life will not be pleasant, between your conscience and Azkaban."

The bell rings, and Madam Hooch's features soften.

"I believe flying is the greatest joy a person can experience, muggle or wizard," she says, "do not let a stupid mistake deprive you from a lifetime of enjoying it. Dismissed."

Madam Hooch watches the first years leave the classroom, quieter than she's ever seen them.

====================

Christmas, the reason behind the upcoming time of rest, lingers on your mind. What exactly is it?

You have heard Christmas celebrates the birth of Jesus of Nazareth, son of God. It is a time of stories and worship. This is not unfamiliar. You've certainly heard the stories of Sigmar's birth, deeds, abdication and ascension to divinity many times on holy days dedicated to Him. There are still stark differences – the Cult of Sigmar forcefully insists that Sigmar was born from the union of two mortals. Jesus, though born of a mortal woman, was always divine.

Perhaps Myrmidia is more similar. She is an old goddess, with depictions predating Sigmar. However, at one point she was "born" to mortal parents. She was a pacifist in her early life, like Shallya and Jesus, though obviously not for long. Also like Jesus, She was slain by mortal hands and returned to divinity…

Not all who celebrate Christmas are Christian. This is unsurprising – one does not have to be a Halfling, or even like them, to indulge during Pie Week. You have heard Christmas is a time of goodwill and generosity, a time to connect with loved ones. It's not unlike what you've observed during Mondstille and Year Blessing. Though more sombre, they are also times for community and hope, even with the struggles of winter.

Finally, you have heard that Christmas is a time of lavish celebration, frenzied shopping, bright lights, and extravagant gift giving where a great deal of money changes hands. If so, it could be mistaken for a holy day of Handrich, God of Commerce. Between the poverty of Orci and the asceticism of the Amethyst College, you've certainly never experienced that.

============================

One morning you spend a half hour looking outside the Common Room windows, kept warm by a roaring fire. Snow falls in swirling flurries, covering the grounds in a pristine coat – save for a few deep trenches leading from Hagrid's hut to the castle's entrance.

They puzzle you. They're too wide to be footpaths, even for Hagrid, and bits of deadwood and greenery are scattered in the disturbed snow flanking them. The mystery is solved moments later when you spot Hagrid dragging a large evergreen tree towards the castle.

You once thought he could be an Ogre. He certainly has the strength of one.

A few minutes later, you walk down to the Great Hall with Sally-Anne, and see the fruits of Hagrid's labour. The hall is spectacular. Festoons of holly and mistletoe hang all around the walls, and no less than twelve towering trees stand around the room, some sparkling with tiny icicles, unmelting despite the warmth, while others glitter with hundreds of candles.

Today is Mondstille – like your home, the winter solstice on Earth falls on the 21st of the last month. While it is certainly odd to be celebrating Mondstille surrounded by so much food, you are undeniably in the jaws of severe winter. The nights feel longer than you've ever lived through, the snow fall is more intense than you've seen, and the surface of the Black Lake has frozen over. It may be easier to endure with a warm bed, a thick cloak, and a full belly, but it is a harsh winter nonetheless.

With that in mind, after the year's last Potions class with Hufflepuff, you make your way to Hagrid with Sally-Anne and Susan. Your shoes are not suited for the snow, but by covering them in empty leather pouches and sticking to the paths cut into the snow by the trees, you make it to his hut without too much fuss. Hagrid waves as you approach and welcomes the three of you in.

It's Sally-Anne's first time visiting and she is quiet at first – her eyes shifting between his hearth, his crossbow hung up on the wall, and the rat-creatures sleeping by her feet. They've grown a great deal, soon you suspect they'll be larger than Fang.

She does speak up when Hagrid asks her what magical creatures she's seen in America and is soon talking excitedly about catching glimpses of a Thunderbird flying in a terrible storm, the creature only visible with each flash of lightning.

"Always wanted to see one o' those," says Hagrid wistfully.

"Do you do anything for the winter solstice, Hagrid?" you ask, once the conversation has moved on.

"Oh… Not fer a good while. Usually jus' wait 'till Christmas fer the festivities," Hagrid says, hesitating for a moment, "When I was a young boy, me dad and I would light a bonfire on the longest night, teh make spring come... Pretty silly, lookin' back, but good fun."

You nod.

"We lit bonfires too," you say, "To guide Taal and Rhya back to the world so spring can return."

"Pretty sure that's not how seasons work," says Sally-Anne, smiling, "but making a fire is always fun."

"I was wondering if I could build one outside of your hut, I'll gather the branches myself…" you continue.

Hagrid shakes his head, laughing, "Don't be daft Zagroose, I have more firewood than I need, an' a lot o' broken branches from the Christmas trees…"

With that, the four of you ready the fire pit outside. Hagrid carries many of the larger logs, while you place small twigs and kindling.

"Could yeh go get that branch over there?" says Hagrid, pointing to one buried in the snow a fair distance away.

As you walk towards it you sense a burst of ersatz Aqshy behind you. You turn around, catching a glimpse of pink as Hagrid stuffs his umbrella back into his jacket. What was once a pile of wood in front of him is now a roaring fire.

Hagrid, you've noticed, can use magic but is secretive about it. His umbrella is no mundane tool but a focus, with a strand of ersatz Ghur running through it. A crude but effective wand.

After a few more minutes, you take a rest by the growing fire.

"Don't yeh have boots, Zagroose?" asks Hagrid, glancing at your feet.

"No," you say, "I used to have a pair of sheepskin boots for winter, but I… don't anymore," you say.

The two of you look at the fire in silence for a while longer.

"Do you have a wolf skin, Hagrid?"

"Wolf skin?" asks Hagrid, puzzled "Afraid not. What do yeh need it fer?"

You explain it's traditional to hang a wolf skin on a pole during Mondstille, as both a sign of respect towards Ulric, God of Winter, and to warn his "children" to stay away.

Hagrid lets out a sad laugh.

"Well, no need for that here," he says, "There are no wolves in Britain anymore."

A land without wolves. How lucky, you think, before the implications of Hagrid's words hit you.

"What do you mean 'anymore'?" you ask.

"Muggles killed the last of 'em centuries ago," says Hagrid, with a sniff.

Your first reaction is relief. Wolves are a blight on villages, and were the bane of Orci's flocks of sheep. Everyone knew somebody who'd been sent to Morr by the jaws of one. Then comes confusion. How is such a thing possible? To kill a wolf is a common enough feat, as is cutting down a tree or digging a hole in the ground. To kill every wolf is as difficult to imagine as cutting every last tree or digging away an entire mountain range. It is easier for you to imagine the end of mankind than the end of wolves.

"They're almost gone in the US, too," says Sally-Anne, sombre.

"That's so sad," says Susan, rubbing her eyes.

You cannot bring yourself to feign sadness, so you remain silent. It's one thing to respect the wolf, but…

You wonder what Ulric would make of this. To kill a wolf is a sign of strength, and gives no disrespect to the God of Winter.

But what about killing every wolf?

You notice Neville and Hermione walking towards you, and they're soon greeted by Hagrid and the others. You explain what you're doing.

"That's not how seasons work!" says Hermione haughtily.

"So I've heard," you say with a frown.

Nevertheless, they help you gather wood and feed it to the flames. Hermione does have some knowledge on how to build a proper fire.

"I've been camping with my parents," she explains.

"Are they woodsmen?" you ask.

"No, dentists."

Before you can ask what that is, Harry, Ron, and Dean come running down the path. Soon, they too start helping with the bonfire. Between the added fuel, and a little bit of help from Hagrid's umbrella and Hermione's bluebell flames, the campfire becomes a roaring inferno.

The wind blows some of the heavy smoke towards you, and you cough as you breathe it in. As your fellow students move out of its way, you suddenly feel very warm. Thinking it's the fire, you take several steps back.

It doesn't help.

Sweat beads on your brow as your heart pounds in your chest. Your hands tremble at your sides.

"Oi, Zagreus," says Ron, a hint of worry in his voice, "You alright?"

You look at him, noticing concerned looks from Sally-Anne, as if expecting you to collapse any moment. Memories of the pyre crash into your mind.

I burn the puppet of flesh that wears his skin. I burn this filth…

"I… I need to be inside for a bit," you rasp, entering Hagrid's hut. Light headed, you bump into one of his tables, shattering a glass jar full of tea on the floor, before collapsing on a chair. You curl up into a ball, pressing your hands into your eyes.

Why were you becoming undone at the sight of some flames? You are not some weakling to fall apart at the sight of a candle, torch, or hearth. You've brewed potions and cooked over a fire after the pyre. Why are you being so pathetic?

You hear the sounds of conversation outside, but can't make it out. Hagrid steps through the door soon after, closing the door behind him.

"Is summat wrong Zagroose?" he asks, concerned.

"I don't know," you rasp. You swallow as he notices the broken jar of tea, but he does not get angry, quietly sweeping it up instead.

"Do you want me to take you to Madam Pomfrey?" he asks.

You shake your head.

"No. Just nerves," you say. Hagrid pours you the last of the tea left in the pot.

"Does it have summat teh do with those burns?" he asks, gesturing to your legs.

You nod.

"I was burned… very badly… years ago," you say, teeth clenched. You're not sure if anyone has told Hagrid about the pyre, but you really do not want to talk about it now. Thankfully he does not press you. For a while, the two of you simply sit in silence. You expect to be scolded, as it was your idea to light the bonfire in the first place, but it never comes.

"Are you sure yer going to be alright?" Hagrid asks.

"Yes, I just need some time," you say. At Hagrid's hesitation you continue, "I'm fine. Don't let me keep you."

Hagrid nods and excuses himself, leaving you with a blanket and a small plate of rock cakes. You don't know how long it is you sit there alone, looking out the window, occasionally catching a glimpse of Hagrid or another face looking in the windows, but it's darker outside when Hagrid opens the door once more.

"The bonfire's down teh embers," he says, asking if you'd like to join them or stay inside. You look past Hagrid at the glowing embers of the bonfire, illuminating the happy faces of your classmates, and find that it does not inspire terror in your heart.

"I'll come out," you rasp, walking outside into the cold. Your classmates greet you, and you take a seat on a large log between Sally-Anne and Neville.

"Feeling better?" asks Susan, sympathetic.

You nod.

"Not used to these Scottish winters," you say.

Before you can be questioned further, Hagrid brings out a plate of bread and sausages, and a handful of spits.

"Nothin' like a good sausage roasted over a campfire," he booms.

Your classmates put the sausages on spits and start to roast them over the fire. You give yours to Neville and Sally-Anne to roast for you – you're not panicking, but there's no reason to push your luck.

Hagrid is clearly an old hand at this. He cooks his sausages to perfection and can toast the bread over the fire without burning it.

Your classmates' results are more… varied. Quite a few sausages end up dropped onto the embers, burnt to a crisp, or barely warmed. Still, with some practice and help from Hagrid, everyone gets a few good morsels, and eats them as if it is the best meal they've had.

Is it odd to be so excited about a few sausages roasted over a fire, when an entire feast waits in the castle?

Maybe not.

There are no wolves to scare off, Taal and Rhya are too distant to hear you, and you were too weak to attend the actual bonfire.

But in this moment, huddled together around a dying fire, sharing this meal, there is something of Mondstille.

======================

"Hello Nekros," you say to the Thestral, petting his flank, "it's been a while."

Behind you, Neville hesitates before reaching forward and petting the creature's mane.

"Is it cute?" asks Susan, from inside the carriage.

You and Neville look at each other for a moment.

"It's… friendly," says Nevile after a moment's hesitation.

"It's majestic," you add.

"I heard they're bad luck," says Susan.

You frown.

"Hagrid says that's just a nasty superstition," says Neville, averting his eyes.

"I guess…" says Susan, hesitantly, "they wouldn't let them pull our carriages if they were too bad."

"I wish I could see them," says Sally-Anne absentmindedly. Susan whips her head around, horrified.

Sally-Anne shakes her head.

"I didn't mean it like that," she says, "Without seeing someone die, I mean."

"There's a picture in Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them," you rasp.

"I know," says Sally-Anne, "but it's not the same, is it?"

You shake your head.

"No," says Neville, in agreement.

The carriage in front starts moving. Soon it'll be time for this one to leave. Neville clambers on while you take a step back.

"Happy early Christmas, Zagreus!" shouts Susan from the carriage, "You'll write, won't you?"

You nod, and wave them off as the carriage starts its journey to Hogsmeade station. Sally-Anne and Neville lean over the side, shouting and waving.

You remain still, waving until they are no longer in sight, before walking back to the castle, alone with your thoughts.
 
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