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The Witching Hour  PV Phaedra Stavrou   Finished. 

The night was dark and full of terrors, and the shadows crept, filling the hallways with a heavy sense of foreboding energy, and the dancing of  strange shapes, that seemed like monsters crawling out. There were no prefects about, or none that Eris could see. Having experience as a prefect herself,  she knew relativity  where her old colleagues might be patrolling and therefore, stayed away from those areas where familiar faces might of been prowling the endless array of corridors.  Eris wasn't in the explaining mood, nor was she in the mood to get into anymore trouble with the professors of the school, or get chewed out by a prefect. None of those seemed appealing, in the slightest.

She had just needed to escape her dorm room, to feel the steadying presence of the cold stone floor on her bare feet, to feel her wand in her hand, and to feel free. There was something calming about the castle at dark. The flickering shadows might of cast the illusion of fear, but yet, Eris loved the darkness--the reminder of her life before spend in the darkness, staring up at the stars. Of course, she could of put on shoes before staring her midnight exploration, but she was much quieter without the heavy weight of her boots pounding on the stone floor, like a beacon for any prefect to hear her sneaking around.

It was hard to believe that just a couple of weeks ago, Eris had been part of the elite. She had been out in these same halls, but not to sneak out, but to patrol. There had been a sense of pride in catching any wayward students. Eris had never thought she would be a wayward student herself, sneaking out at night by herself. She had always assumed she would stay a prefect, but that was before the faithful events of the punching of Eri Windstone, and before becoming extremely close with Max Avery and other bad influences in her crazy house.

Treading the hallways with light steps, careful not to alert any of the prefects of her midnight travels, Eris rounded another corridor. This one was darker than the others she had walked past, and even more foreboding. A door was ajar at the end of the hallway, and there was a noise coming from inside of it.

Her curiosity was peaked at once, and with a look around to check if the coast was clear, which it was, Eris walked into the room. The atmosphere inside was colder than the rest of the castle, and shivering, Eris wrapped her robes around herself. She might not of had the decency to wear shoes, but at least she had the sense to wear her robes. Partly because she wasn't able to buy nightwear, even though she now had sum of money to her name, Eris had no idea how to send out owls with her shipping orders. There really was no amazon in the wizarding world, which totally sucked.

Creeping into the room, leaving the door open behind her, Eris stared around the room. It was devoid of everything, besides a few paintings and suits of amour. Away from the sounds of prefects moving around, or the sounds of the castle at night, the room was dark and silent. It was quite terrifying, but being fearless was one thing that Eris had to be. As a Gryffindor, there was one thing she had to be good at, and that was being brave. Taking a step into the room, the door creaked behind Eris, but didn't close, somehow staying half way open. Almost as if caught in a phantom breeze, or maybe, just magic. That would be more logical, considering she was at a magical school.

Looking around into the shadows of the room, it was a shock when a voice spoke. "There's something following you." A faint voice, spoken in a near whisper. Eris blinked, whirring around.

There was nobody else in the room, besides for Eris's shadow on the floor. Shadows couldn't talk, unless they were the special shadows from Peter Pan. So what was doing the talking? The voice spoke again, whispery voice sounding almost amused. "You seem confused, little mud blood. "

This time, Eris found the source of the whisper.  A painting on the wall of an older man, smirking down at her. Finding herself again, feeling calm and secure in the knowledge that the unknown voice was just a painting, Eris's bravery returned. "I'm not a mud-blood, I'm the Fawley-Rowle heir, and I would like to know who's following me." Channeling as much bravery as she could into her voice, Eris tried not to recoil at her own words, and the shock that accompanied the words.

It was still a shock that she was the heir of not one, but two pure blood families. But after the article in the daily prophet, Eris had been forced to come to terms with her new fame. Already, the incriminating legacy left by her parents was staring to haunt Eris, as she struggled to understand just exactly who her parents were. Her whole childhood had been a lie, and that lie that seemed far better than the reality of the broken father and grandmother that awaited her at the end of term.

"The Rowle-Fawley heir." The painting paused, sneer fading on it's face for a moment before it grew back. "It's not a who following you, it's a what." Eris's fists clenched at her sides, as she stared down the cryptic painting. "Tell me."  She declared, voice rising as she stomped closer to the painting. She wanted to add please, wanting to know who on earth was following her around in the middle of the night, but pure bloods didn't say no. At least, that was what she assumed. Eris had no idea how she was supposed to act. All she knew was that she wanted the damn painting to tell her what on earth was following her. An adventure was always welcome, and this might be of been the  start to one.
Last edited by Eris Fawley on 10th August 2018, 6:13 am, edited 2 times in total.

THE EXTREME ALWAYS SEEMS TO MAKE AN IMPRESSION.
Eris Fawley:
Strength: 6 //Agility: 10 //Control: 9 //Stamina: 10

The Witching Hour  PV Phaedra Stavrou   Finished. 

Phaedra had done a few patrols before, usually around the Great and Small Halls which were easy enough to locate, but she had yet to venture through any mysterious corridors. She hadn't known as many of Hogwarts' secrets as she would have liked, but maybe her new title would allow for that. After doing a bit of late night studying and slamming her books shut, Phaedra readied herself for the day's final job, after which she could maybe get some well-needed sleep.

The Ravenclaw Tower often got chilly due to its high altitude and Phaedra was glad she was smart enough to dress accordingly, buttoning her robe over her uniform as she descended down the spiral staircase of her common room. Her thick socks muffled the sound of her footsteps as she sped down the flights in excitement, the girl somehow managing to reach the bottom without tripping.

This area of the castle was familiar to Phaedra so she took a right into the first hallway she saw. Strolling absentmindedly, Phaedra held her hand against the cool, stone surface of the wall, using her sense of touch to guide her through the maze that was Hogwarts’ corridors. It was dark but Lumos was out of the question - it was far too risky to use. After a few minutes of complicated twists and turns, Phaedra eventually found herself in a passageway she had yet to discover, tall suits of armour hovering on either side of her, their shadows giving off a foreboding air and quickening her heart rate. She continued on cautiously past them, not noticing their metal heads turning silently after her as she went, too concerned with what lay ahead. Narrowing her eyes, she caught a glimpse of a large door, ajar. How unusual, she thought. Doors were typically shut and locked during the night. Now interested, she made a beeline to the room, an unknown voice becoming more discernible with every quiet, calculated step. Pressing her back against the wall, Phaedra leaned in to listen.

"You seem confused, little mudblood," said the voice, in the amused tone of an elderly man.

"I'm not a mud-blood, I'm the Fawley-Rowle heir, and I would like to know who's following me," declared a second person who Phaedra didn’t realize was there before - the voice of a child. Phaedra bit her lip; Fawley-Rowle? She kept up with the Daily Prophet, and was completely certain the name had appeared there in a recent release… something along the lines of a witch who entranced a man into living a muggle life with her, and now their daughter was attending her school; a Gryffindor who Phaedra knew to have been quite the troublemaker. What would she be doing down here, talking to some strange man, about being followed at that? Phaedra had never met the Fawley-Rowle girl, but with how quickly rumour spread around the castle, it would be a lie if she said she wasn’t the slightest bit interested with the girl’s history.

"The Rowle-Fawley heir," sneered the male voice, as if he were disgusted by her mere presence. "It's not a who following you, it's a what."

"Tell me."

The man laughed at the girl’s stubborn display; drawing his eyes down to her clenched fists as she demanded an answer. “Now why would I do that?” questioned the painting, with a fervor that put the redhead's to shame. He looked back to her. “Then you’d just further roam through these corridors and stick your nose into things that aren’t your business - you shouldn’t even be out of bed! Follow the rules, girl, and head back to your dormitory at once. That - thing - is not something you want to encounter.

The painting paused and Phaedra, with a wave of courage, took the opportunity to lean over the door frame so she could get a quick visual of those she was eavesdropping on. The dark slab of wood was fragile against the weight of Phaedra’s body and it let out a loud, high-pitched creak, alerting any nearby of her presence. With a sharp inhale, the Ravenclaw quickly pulled back and pressed herself against the wall, squeezing her eyes shut and mentally scolding herself for her carelessness, and for blowing her own cover so early.

Bah!” the painting exclaimed irritably, his eyes shifting to the open doorway. “Who’s it this time? Show yourself!

Phaedra took a deep breath, and peered her dark features into the abandoned room, shadows of her form dancing across the wall behind her. She took a few steps forward into the classroom, shivering slightly at the cold, and brought her arms up to wrap around her torso for a bit of warmth. She expected to see two figures there, but instead stood a redhead in front of a painting; so this was Eris, the Fawley-Rowle heir. She was much smaller than Phaedra expected, but nonetheless she seemed respectable. From the little Phaedra had seen (and heard), the girl had a fire to her that the Ravenclaw could admire. Her eyes then trailed up to the painting on a wall, an older man. And that was the male voice - she should have figured, no professor would have humored a curfew breaking student for as long as he did. Brushing off her screw up earlier, she continued on to the center of the room, stopping a few feet away from the pair. "It was me."

After hearing Eris’ introduction, it was only fitting that she give a formal one of her own. Purebloods enjoyed giving long, winded preambles about every single detail of their life; a game, almost, except without the innocent charm. “My name is Phaedra Stavrou,” she spoke boldly to the two, arms moving back to her side. Her parents made sure to teach the ins and outs of charisma and proper body language, and although she weren’t an expert, she did know that hugging oneself was possibly the least intimidating stance one could have. “Daughter to Giannis and Chrysa Stavrou, and successor to my great-great-grandfather’s line. You spoke of something following us, and I’m intrigued. We will not leave this room,” she motioned her head in Eris’ direction, “Until you tell us what we’re in danger of. That’s the least you portraits could do for the students here. Hanging on walls all day and capable of simply moving to another whenever you’re bored - I’m sure you’ve seen and heard it all. Now spill it.

She had just wanted to wander the quiet of Hogwarts during the night; investigating a mysterious presence was not on her list, but she wouldn't oppose if it came to that. After addressing the portrait, she awaited an answer from the man, looking down at Eris to give her an understanding nod. Purebloods had to stick together - but rebels? Even more so.

Phaedra Stavrou
STA: 8, STR: 2, AGL: 10, CTL: 15

The Witching Hour  PV Phaedra Stavrou   Finished. 


The red head had not expected to hear the sweet voice of another student calling out into the darkness of the room, demanding answers from the painting. In fact, her whole body was tense, in wait for a figure out of story books and children's nightmares to appear in the corners of the room, ready to murder any small children out at night. Letting out a sigh of relief at the sight of a girl, who seemed just a little taller, Eris's shoulders slouched again. The girl, Phaedra, had quite the title, and even though Eris had forgotten everything she had said, besides her first name due to the apparent Greek names that fell on dead ears, and lips that would never be able to repeat them back and the eloquence of which she spoke, sounding like a young princess from one of Eris's beloved story books. Regal and imposing, clearly prepared for whatever situation they were about to get into.

Not really understanding the nod that had came her way, Eris nodded back, look of confusion on her face. Wasn't that a thing cool guys did in old movies? Were they in a cool James Bond movie--Hogwarts style? What was James Bond anyways, and why did her dad like whoever he was so much? And why did people NOD, as an introduction? Why was the pureblood world so confusing, and why was Eris part of it?

Like any storybook, it would be just too easy if the imposing figure that was in the halls late at night was another child. There had to be something else. Naturally, there was something wrong, it couldn't be a normal day at Hogwarts without a dramatic scene or two. Eris, still concerned with the idea that something was following her, managed a smile at the newcomer, barely able to see the raven-haired girl's features in the darkness of the room. After a minute, Eris deciphered that she was a ravenclaw, and that she hadn't been acquainted with whoever the girl was. Thank god she wasn't a prefect, or anybody that was going to rat Eris out for being out late at night. Although, admittedly, she was a ravenclaw. Which was not good, as most ravenclaws were self-righteous, insane pricks, who had no common sense whatsoever. Of course, discounting Adam and Kaegen, for even though they were insane, they were okay. Maybe this girl was one of the okay ravenclaws,

Returning her gaze to the painting, Eris managed a scowl of her own at the figure that was still smirking at the two girls. If he was shocked, the painting did not look it, face upturned in a brilliant smirk in the dim light that both girls could see, barely, through the layer of oil paint that dimmed the man's facial features and appearance marginally.

"Another pure blood rule breaker. Your kind just seems to grow and grow, what with death eaters and troublemakers simply multiplying by the year.." The man jeered, illustrated hands folding together like an old timely robber, as he sneered at the two girls--apparently unaware of the perils of scaring two 11 year old girls with massive sums of money, and dismal tempers (in the case of Eris, at least).

"There is a dark presence following you, and I fear it will find you soon enough. Alas, even for being purebloods, you are not immortal, and death shall find you, just like it finds everybody. Regards of their blood status."

Eris went quiet, considering the painting's words. Unlike the Ravenclaw prefect, she did not have an eloquence to her words, saying uh and um with most sentences. To say she was woefully unskilled in pronunciation and correct grammar would be a vile lie, or an extreme understatement. Either way, Eris was unskilled in the arduous task of correct speech patterns, especially compared to the grace of the Ravenclaw girl, and somehow, the painting in front of the two girls.

This night was turning into a horror movie! Was Eris stupid enough to be in a horror movie? Her dad always said that everyone in a horror movie was stupid, and she felt exactly like what she expected horror movie protagonists to feel like, in the face of a cryptic message about an eventual death or gory fate. Eris was only 11! She didn't want to die, not with the Blossomfest coming up soon, and with the promises of new friendships lingering in her mind.

Eris was not opposed to punching at paintings, or ripping at them with her wand. Yet, something seemed different about the painting in front of her. It seemed all knowing, eyes wide, and scowl immaculate on the man's face. Of course, it also could of just been a practical joker of a painting. Either way, Eris had to physically refrain herself from stomping up to the painting and ripping it down from the wall. That wouldn't be the best impression on whoever the ravenclaw was, assuming she wasn't a practitioner of random ravenclaw acts of violence.

Right. Phaedra had been calm and assured, claiming the two girls would not leave the room. Surely Eris, who was a Gryffindor, and was supposed to be brave, could muster the same courage without resorting to mundane acts of violence. Stalking up to the painting, beckoning for the other girl to follow, Eris came up as close as she could without ramming her fists into the whites of the man's painted on eyes.

"Stop being dramatic, and tell us what's stalking us."
Eris muttered, crossing her arms across her chest, with a look of anger that spread across her small face. Directing her anger towards the painting, the girl tried to channel her fear into rage, which lead to quite a lot of anger bubbling to the surface, heating Eris's face to a bright shade of red.

THE EXTREME ALWAYS SEEMS TO MAKE AN IMPRESSION.
Eris Fawley:
Strength: 6 //Agility: 10 //Control: 9 //Stamina: 10

The Witching Hour  PV Phaedra Stavrou   Finished. 

The masked figure found more freedom wandering the castle at night. He didn't have to pretend to be a student when no one was around. The mask could be displayed in all its glory for those who were unlucky enough to cross him. Two others seemed to be out in the corridors this evening when they were not supposed to be up. A prefect might catch them and punish them for their rule breaking. Unless they themselves were the Prefects. It didn't matter much to the boy as he followed the voices. Paintings quietly gasped as he walked, likely giving him away to others. Paintings were the gossip of the castle it seemed.

Two girls, talking to a painting about something stalking them. Did they mean him? The figure assumed it must be. It was too late for the warning to come. He was right here just beyond their eyes' grasp in the shadows. It would observe the two in silence before it seemed the painting itself became aware of him.

"It is already here..," the man in the painting nearly choked as he ran out of his painting, leaving the girls by themselves.

Anger filled his mind as he was revealed. He did not wish to interact with the witches and wizards of this school yet. This was a period for watching before he made a move. He had to silence this pair before he was discovered. Yet it would be difficult. This puppet knew so few spells compared to his last. This masked figure was for infiltration, not confrontation.

Kill them both.

It resisted at first, attempting to be strong willed before the masked figure raised his wand and cast his spell from the shadows. Nothing he had would kill in one blow but it was certainly enough to spook anyone not expecting an attack. His wand pointed to the smaller red head girl, Eris, and he uttered a simple spell.

"Flipendo!" he hissed before doing the same to the other girl.

Fool, you can't kill anything with that. Flee.

Just as soon as he had appeared, the masked figure vanished into the shadows of the castle once more. The two girls would not be hurt too badly if at all by his spell, but likely they would be unsure what to think about it now.

The Witching Hour  PV Phaedra Stavrou   Finished. 

Image


"She's right! We should know, whatever it is," Phaedra tried to convince the portrait, but suddenly the man choked out a last, hurried warning, and ran somewhere out of the frame before either of them could ask for any further clarification.

Phaedra rolled her eyes dramatically, her fists clenched tightly at her side. "You! - What did you mean by that!? " She called after him to no avail. "Worthless things, I tell you," she muttered under her breath before turning to Eris. She was going to ask something along the lines of 'Well, what now?' and 'Should we leave?' but before the words could form, a blue light shot in and made direct contact with the redhead girl.


"Eri- Ow!"

Before Phaedra could properly register what had happened to the Gryffindor girl, she gave a high pitched yelp and felt her feet get swept from under her and then flew a good distance away before landing hard on the cold, stone floor. It would have almost looked comical had the situation not been so serious, and after barely avoiding a faceplant Phaedra lay there on her side, the wind temporarily knocked out of her from the impact. A pathetic groan emitted from her after a few, brief seconds of shocked silence and when she finally caught her breath she shakily made a move to stand up. Ow. That would surely leave a few bruises.

As soon as it had come, the masked figure retreated back into the darkness, leaving the two students alone in their misery.

Chest still rising and falling, the Ravenclaw girl squinted in the darkness towards the still open door. So the painting was right after all - if only he had just told them the truth, perhaps the two girls could have made a run for it. Phaedra mentally added portraits to the list of things she could not trust. Considering Hogwarts' notorious history of questionable school atmospheres, she failed to think of the occurrence as some sick prank - things like this were sadly common and to be expected by now, but that didn't make what happened any less acceptable. Reaching towards her side for her robe pocket, she drew out her wand, gripping tightly onto its warm handle. It had almost completely flown out of her pocket. With the weapon in her hand, she anxiously whispered, "Lumos," and the bright light shone throughout the abandoned classroom and reflected off of her now wild and unsettled expression. The poor girl resembled a deer in headlights with her wide eyes and strands of wavy hair sticking up all over the place, but she would be damned if she remained in near darkness. Not after that.

Mustering up as much strength as she possibly could, she turned to Eris and limped over to her. "A-are you okay?" she asked, attempting to mask the trembling in her throat. It didn't work all that well. Eris shouldn't have been out of bed but Phaedra's main concern now was getting this student safe and sound. The prefect technically shouldn't have been here either - this wasn't her area to patrol - but maybe it was for the best that Phaedra's curiosity had gotten the better of her that night. Who knows what would have happened if it were only one of them all alone and to the mercy of the thing that had attacked them. "What do you think that was?" she asked while looking over the girl. Thankfully, she didn't look too hurt. The taller girl then shook her head; the questions could wait for another time.

"Come on. We need to go," Phaedra said, stepping back. She inhaled through her teeth as she made a wrong move, a grimace of pain evident on her face - she had twisted towards the very same arm she had landed on. "Let's head back."

Phaedra Stavrou
STA: 8, STR: 2, AGL: 10, CTL: 15

The Witching Hour  PV Phaedra Stavrou   Finished. 

You coward! What are you running from? Come back you worthless lump of crayola paint!” Eris echoed her own hatred towards the annoying painting, taking a step forward. Was she about to punch the painting or rip at it? Perhaps so, and from the look in her eyes, one could assume things were about to get messy in the worst way possible. The rumors of the young girl were true. Her hair was just as fiery as her personality, and even in the shadowy room, it was clear that her face was hot, and her face was skeptical, eyebrows raised in a mix of confusion and hostility.

Yes, hanging out with Max Avery and Dorian Gray had made Eris quick to threats and violence, and allowed her the willingness to perform messy tasks that were jurassic and unnecessary in the eyes of an older student, but seemed the perfect approach in the moment.

And things did get messy, but not in the way that Eris was used to. Normally she was in control when it came to dangerous moments, and even when she wasn’t in control, someone she knew or was close to was. This time was different. Maybe she had gone to punch the painting, maybe she had gone to kiss it, but all intentions faded away as a jet of bluish light, looking eerie in the darkness of the room, rammed straight into the small girl, right on target.

She did not have enough meat on her bones, or enough strength to protect herself from the knockback jinx, as it flung into her, sweeping her legs out from under like she was little more than a rug. Eris managed to wrap her arms around her head, before crashing into the plain wall of the strange room, the impact causing the small redhead’s ears to ring out, and a strane silence to spread throughout her body, before it disappeared, along with the ringing, as the silence turned normal again, and she was able to hear. The ragged breathing of the painting echoed in Eris’s ears, as did the pounding of painted on feet, as the painting moved out of frame again.

The feeling of flight and than landing took the wind out of Eris, as she let out a low gasp, looking up in time to see the other girl flying through the air, and than slam into the floor. Both girls were unable to move for a moment, collecting their breath again. Eris’s eyes found Phaedra’s form first, staring at the sprawled mass of dark hair on the floor, before finally looking up again to see the source of the attack.

A masked figure stood, hard to see in the darkness, but foreboding in nature, hovering over the girls. The figure couldn’t of been much taller than the two girls, but in the shadows, and with fear running rampant through the 11 year old’s minds, the figure could of been a giant. It was frightening, but Eris was past being scared. She had been caught off guard, but the fact that someone had came to attack her was not okay, and even worse, another girl had been hurt too. She had just enough time to push herself up to her knees, before the figure turned away, and Eris pushed herself up to her feet.

She was hardly hurt, besides for a faint throbbing in her elbows and knees. She expected to have bruises in the morning, but for the time being, a mix of shock and fear numbing out the pain that she would feel later, once the effects of the moment died away, and Eris was able to look back with clarity.

For now, such an event was impossible, and Eris studied Phaedra with shaking hands, a trace of fear leaking into the brave Gryffindor’s appearance. The light from Phaedra’s wand kept the shadows at bay, but even so, Eris felt a little jumpy staring at the walls. The light wasn’t bright enough, and even with it, there was still a certain amount of darkness.

Someone had attacked her. Her of all people, Eris Fawley, one of the most ruthless Gryffindor first years in the whole school. She was friends with Max Avery and Dorian Gray, puncher of stupid ravenclaws, and whoever tried to hurt her would pay. Not now, though. Phaedra seemed scared, and truthfully, Eris was frightened herself, under the layers of built up anger and recklessness that were much easier than facing the fear coursing through her veins.

“Maybe it was a student…
” Eris trailed off, not wanting to state the other things that could of attacked them. A monster, a dark lord, a death eater, a villain ready to hurt first years. Those were options that were fearful to think about, and it would be harder to beat and punish one of those. An errant student would be easier to find and extract justice upon than any other thing that her imagination could dream up and imagine in the halls with them, stalking them with long claws and dripping maws of fangs.

Phaedra, we need to get you to the hospital wing.” Eris was already up, thus, didn’t bother taking the Ravenclaw’s hand, reaching down to brush dirt off the hem of her robes, before registering the real panic in Phaedra’s eyes, along with the pain. Her own shock was slowly dripping away into fear, but the numbness of being attacked seeped through and controlled most of Eris's emotions, making her feel almost detached from the situation, and any thoughts that weren't about extracting her revenge and solving the mystery.

She really thought they were still hunted. Whoever had hurt them was long gone, but Phaedra was still scared. It could've just been another student playing a prank, but they had hurt Phaedra very badly. Eris could see the pain in her fellow first year’s eyes, and carefully, she eased a hand under the girl’s arm, shorter body working to her advantage.

Phaedra could either shrug her off, or accept the help, as Eris lead them to the door of the room, clearly attempting to go towards the hospital wing.

THE EXTREME ALWAYS SEEMS TO MAKE AN IMPRESSION.
Eris Fawley:
Strength: 6 //Agility: 10 //Control: 9 //Stamina: 10

The Witching Hour  PV Phaedra Stavrou   Finished. 

Image

Her wand still held pointed outwards, the walnut wood in her right hand began to emit heat, much more than what was considered normal. The tip turned a pale yellow before it sputtered, and for a brief second all was well until the wand had no more energy to feed itself and the dim light source finally died out on the spot, washing them both into darkness yet again. It was a result of breaking mental concentration, and although her wand hadn't been damaged, one thing was clear - Phaedra was in no right mind to cast spells.

The prefect mumbled irritatedly under her breath, frowning at her wand for what she deemed a betrayal in a moment of need. Of course, the one night the normally rule-abiding girl decided to get curious, waves of disasters just had to happen. It was just her luck.

Her injured left arm was still pressed against her side awkwardly, clearly sore from the impact. Try as she might at appearing strong, the Fawley girl saw through her façade and eased herself under her arm to help her, leading her in the direction of the hospital wing.

"No!" Phaedra blurted out, tearing herself away from Eris' grasp. Phaedra despised giving off any impressions of weakness, especially towards purebloods where rumours spread like wildfire in their circles. When Eris suggested visiting the infirmary of all places at this time of night, Phaedra nearly reeled back in bewilderment. They both would likely be laughed out of the place for wasting the matron's precious time; precious time that would be much better put to regrowing bones and dealing with whatever other ridiculous maladies and harm children caught at this school - not a sore arm. "It doesn't hurt that badly. I'm fine... we're fine," she reassured in a blunt tone.

To add, Phaedra had no desire to reveal to the professors that she had been outside of her patrolling zone and a part of her doubted whether they could even be trusted to take action in the first place. Besides, what could be done with their little evidence? Phaedra had not witnessed the figure's appearance and her only testimony was the cryptic warnings of an unreliable, cowardly painting. She could only hope that Eris was right - hopefully, it was just a student and there was nothing to fear.

It was a very complicated situation
 all-around, and she was not prepared for it.

"You're right - probably just someone playing a joke."

After taking in a deep breath to perhaps ease her nerves, Phaedra turned to the smaller girl. "I'm heading back to my common room," she muttered, finally. Was it a brave decision to flee? No. But you couldn't be brave if you were stupid and dead. Phaedra wanted nothing more than for both of them to retire back to their common rooms, where they'd be safe for the night and could forget that this had ever happened.

"You should head back too." Eris had been a prefect before - surely she'd know the way back to the Gryffindor common room from here because Phaedra sure did not. She wanted to get out of these cursed corridors as soon as possible. 

After giving the Gryffindor girl a final look-over that seemed almost apologetic, Phaedra spun around to walk in the opposite direction. How could Eris seem so detached and unbothered? The redhead may have been small but she had way more guts than Phaedra did - a sheltered upbringing did little for the Ravenclaw's confidence. That would have to change. "I'm sorry," were her final words over her shoulder. Sorry for what exactly - she didn't know, but there was a feeling as if she had somehow failed the other. Some prefect she was.

In the darkness, Phaedra hurriedly went in the direction she had only just recently came, past the suits of armour and out of sight.

Reducio
Phaedra exits the thread.


Phaedra Stavrou
STA: 8, STR: 2, AGL: 10, CTL: 15

The Witching Hour  PV Phaedra Stavrou   Finished. 


Being brave was hard, but Eris was a gryffindor. She channeled her fear into anger, shoving it down deep inside of her, along with a hunger for vengeance. She had been provoked for no reason, along with another girl that hadn't deserved anything. Eris was a bully, she knew that people considered her one, and that many people had their fair share of hate for her, but attacking someone else? That was not okay. Eris would find out whoever had hurt the Ravenclaw prefect and injured Eris, slightly. There would be retribution inflicted on the poor soul that dared target first years in the middle of the night, that much Eris promised herself, in the flickering wand light.

With a last glower at the painting, Eris went to help the girl. When Phaedra screamed No, Eris's panic finally showed itself, as Eris nearly shot up to touch the ceiling of the room. Was the figure still there? What was wrong, oh. Face burning with notification and fear, Eris took a moment to steady her brave facade, and her resolve to punish the offender who had hurt Phaedra. Phaedra shut down, and Eris felt her eyes well up with tears.

She was really afraid, and the other girl was no comfort, not when she was shut down. Even so, Eris tried to help. Vigorously rubbing at the corners of her eyes, with her robe sleeves, Eris nodded, still trying to maintain the brave Gryffindor facade. "If you insist you're okay, we don't have to do anything."

Sure, it might of been a student playing a joke, but it was not a funny joke. There was no trace of laughter on either girl's face, and Eris was not amused in the slightest. It would also be a funny joke when she tracked them down and made them pay. Eris Fawley was a girl with a twisted moral code, and the defensive side of her personality was kicking in. She would fight for the school that had caused her more wonder and joy than humanly possible in the past few months, and she would fight for her friends, to make sure none of them ended up hurt in the middle of the night. She would find and track down this person, because she truthfully believed it was the right thing to do. Was it nice to hurt another person, even if they had hurt you? No, but Eris did not care.

The wand light had, long since, flickered away, and neither girl made any attempt to recast the spell. Eris felt too drained to even attempt casting lumos, and Phaedra seemed to think the same thing, as she muttered about having to go, and telling Eris to return to her common room, before rushing away.

Eris's face crumbled, watching Phaedra turn away. The words sorry echoed off the suits of armor, as Eris stared in the direction the girl had just run off in. For all her self proclaimed bravery, Eris did not want to be alone, and she didn't want the other girl to be alone in the shadows, while a stranger prowled.

There was safety in numbers, but Phaedra had left. Eris wanted to call after her to be safe, to come back, but no words left Eris's mouth for a long moment. In the room, all alone with the backdrop of a cowardly painting for company, Eris's words sounded too harsh, and too loud for her ears. "You don't have to be sorry. It's not your fault."

Even though there was no chance of the other girl hearing, it felt good to say out loud. With one last glance over her shoulder, in the direction Phaedra had vanished, Eris hurried away, to the safety of a brightly lit common room and a warm bed to protect her.

THE EXTREME ALWAYS SEEMS TO MAKE AN IMPRESSION.
Eris Fawley:
Strength: 6 //Agility: 10 //Control: 9 //Stamina: 10