Back Into The Water Closed

The teenage girl referenced her reception of a heart, an otherwise concerning notion, but Thomas understood the void of emotion that plagued the girl. The choice alone was admirable, and for a moment provided a bright stroke of hope in her dark story.

"Don't look for him, You won't...like what you might find."

The part-veela’s warning garnered a glare of contempt from the boy. Firstly, the disrespect to refer to the boy as Howie. A name Howard parted with from Erin’s spite. The day he stopped being a boy, turned to a man. A man fueled by his rage, a crowning achievement for Erin, her creation. Secondly, to issue a warning, implying she knows his end. Thomas was uncertain of what followed between the two after he disappeared. If Erin amended the damages she inflicted on the Hufflepuff or not. He held a singular power Thomas has not witnessed from any other students, which Erin latched onto. Despite uncertainties, Thomas began to consider the simple fact: Each individual has changed since they were last together, for the worse.

The pressing questions over Howard would have to be put on hold for now. Thomas released a gentle huff, blue eyes removed from the third year and back to the patches of muddy soil that squelched from his black boots. While the rain was not in his plan, Thomas was not concerned for his now mud-caked shoes. There was a soft chilling hiss from the raindrops on exposed parts of his skin. The rain offered comfort for the boy, serving as a stimulating white noise.

Then came a change in tone, first it was the wind. The calm breeze halted, the cusp of the nearing wood line now rigid without movement. A collection of rodents scuttled away from their encroaching footsteps. This prompted concern from the girls, to which they quickly vocalized.

“this place is wrong.”

“This place is terrifying...”

Thomas gave no response, not even a look in their direction. It was not surprising to see the first year Gryffindor express fear, but the Erin Ryan, afraid? It was a sight to behold, and if not for the dwindling resentment perhaps Thomas would have stood there to soak in the moment. Ivy did not have a choice in the matter, she would not dare turn back to the castle now, even if the odds of her reaching the castle safely vastly outweighed her success of survival here. To run or stay hinged on Erin's willingness to follow him.

Thomas supplied an answer that appeared to be enough to keep the girls moving, “if he lets us in”—did the girls presumed he was referring to an ally? Or was this he another version of himself, someone he did not have control over?

Then came a steep decline in elevation made evident from the occasional slides through a patch of mud with stationary feet. If they were not careful, they could have fallen and slid downhill. Thomas navigated the ground like an expert, as if it was a path he has traveled many times. Now visible was the façade of the vacant groundskeeper’s hut. At least Thomas assumed it was vacant, as he has not seen anyone near it since arriving at the castle. Former home to the famous half-giant, Rubeus Hagrid. Not far behind was the dense wood line of the Dark Forest.

There was no turning back now, they were too close within the grasp of what Thomas has wanted to show Erin. The boy led the girls up the porch steps towards the doorway of this hut, standing underneath the eave to escape the rainfall. It was a small circular structure made of stone, a large wooden door served as the only entry or exit. He rapped the door with his knuckles, attempting to press it open. The door remains unmoved. “I don’t suppose you can get that open, Erin?”

After ignoring several questions, Thomas used this moment to break his silence. There was no longer an option to turn back and escape what was coming. No matter how frightening his next words would be, they were stuck in this together. He turned to Erin, though his eyes would stare off in the distance, focused in their surroundings. “You searched for me when no one else did. You deserve to know the truth. I could not have just told you, no. I had to show you…” The boy stopped himself searching for the right words, this speech was not planned. “Do not run, do not scream. And do not speak, unless spoken to.” His blue eyes flickered over to Ivy, visibly afraid but she still stood with them. She was a part of this story now, and Thomas admired her courage. “They will not hurt you.” A lie. Thomas had not control over them, but he would hope his presence would be enough to spare the Gryffindor. She did not deserve to die tonight.

Looking back over to Erin, Thomas motioned to the door. “So, can you open it? It’d be best to get inside for now, if we can. They will come on their own terms.”

Relief had washed over her when Thomas said him rather than her or they. The proliferation of vermin was a familiar sight for the Slytherin girl, a sign that they where near. She had sought them out three years ago, her languishing want had drawn them to her. She was but a child, yearning for something more with a natural cruelty cultivated by a callous world and an inability to feel remorse. She had never thought about the consequences, only want she wanted, what she needed. The burden of regret came later, it was in a sick sort of way her reward and in comparison to the void she knew it was utter bliss, this misery and sorry that stuck to her soul.

Ivy was troubled by the rodents and the vile insects that could fly. Their buzzing wings as they seemed to fly at her rather than away. Thin strands of spider's silk that clung to their clothes when they broke as they passed through. They felt like gentle fingers attempting to grip the children, prevent them from going any further but they lacked the power and the will to hold them back. Rats, some as large as small cats would scurry across the muddy floor. 

“What? Who’s he?”

"No idea," Erin answered because Thomas had not. "I just did not want it to be something in particular," she muttered. It was certainly not a 'he', it was a 'she' or a 'they.'

“Where are we going?”

"No clue," she had asked the same question herself. Thomas seemed uninterested in answering their inquiry. He would slide down an embankment and Erin would follow, she was incredibly athletic and agile even if the part-Veela did not look the part. "But," there was a halting to her voice. She had a bad-feeling, not that she was one listen to that little voice in the back of her head. It was just too quiet. "You might not want to find out," she warned her from the bottom of the embankment.

The pelting rain left the girl looking lie a drowned rat, her long dyed hair in her hand she was uselessly trying to wring it out as she followed Thomas against her better judgement. She had no idea where they were headed but a building had come into view. The Groundskeeper's Cabin, once resided in by Darren Hurst until 2019 when he abruptly left his role as groundskeeper for presumably greener pastures. There was never a replacement groundskeeper, not yet or not that she had noticed in any case. When the cabin was set ablaze during the Blossom Ball in the spring, the same day Thomas had disappeared, nobody had even noticed it for weeks. 

The now seemingly abandoned abode seemed disgusted with itself. The building made mostly of blackened, moss-covered stone, with sills made of charred wood. Thomas found refuge from the deluge of rain on the porch. A slouching roof hung heavy over their heads as Erin reached Thomas' side. The walls weakened by fire and the burden of the broken roof. Where the heck are you taking me Tom? As she studied the house's grim countenance, she heard the cabin actually groan. She echoed a groan of her own, it was then that she realized the extent to which this house has come to revile what it has become.

He knocked on the door with his knuckles. The door, despite being marred with a fire that failed to put this edifice out of its misery, remained sturdy and stable beneath his hand. Nobody came to answer him. He would push, but the door would not give way. Erin looked over at Thomas, she did not say anything but she gave him the sort of scolding expression that begged the question -- the hell you doing Thomas?

“I don’t suppose you can get that open, Erin?”

What ever happened to being let in? She looked around her, it did not look like anyone lived here. Like anyone should be here. This building should be nothing short of condemned. "No," Erin answered bluntly even if she wanted inside even if the place looked like hell for a little while to at least dry off. It was getting late, there was no way she would be able to sneak back into the school after nightfall, her reputation as well as her appearance made her a stand out. There was no story she could spin, no matter how true or plausible that a Prefect or a Professor would accept. She was putting her foot down, again. Thomas was acting strange and while she was willing to entertain his madness she was not going to break into a place so he could eat lead chips and get even dumber. "I will take you back to your dorm," well the common room at least, she offered. Why did she even follow him this long? He lacked the sense to keep his head above the surface of the water.

He looked past her, he did not make eye contact with her as he made his reply. Was he looking at Ivy? Cute. 

“You searched for me when no one else did. You deserve to know the truth. I could not have just told you, no. I had to show you…”

Her gut sank. Something was wrong, he was incredibly detached. He was not the sort of person to lack. Was she simply seeing him differently? She felt everything in abundance and what was once an endless spring, had become a trickle into a dried riverbed. She swallowed hard. "Here?" She asked as she looked around again. She had passed by this place dozens of times, had she just walked on past him each of those times? 

“Do not run, do not scream. And do not speak, unless spoken to.”

Thomas warned. Erin tried to grab his upper arm in her hand. It was hardly gentle. "I thought we were trying to get out of the rain," her statement was a rough whisper. "Not..." her voice trailed off. "Your kidnappers," her eyes darted towards the door. Her first instinct was of course to barge in, make them regret the day they saw Thomas. That was her first instinct. Her second was to get Thomas away, he was not right. Something had broken in his head. She was actually worried about him. He was an idiot but he was her idiot. 

“They will not hurt you.”

"They?" She repeated. "You said HE," there was a rising sound of panic in her voice. She had not forgotten the vermin. She looked around yet again at the damaged building. At the gnarled trees that marked the border of the forbidden forest. The mossy stone. The dying grass, the blighted bushes. She would try to pull Thomas away from the door, back into the rain. Pneumonia and detention both would be a fine fate comparatively. 

“So, can you open it? It’d be best to get inside for now, if we can. They will come on their own terms.”

Her jaw dropped, her eyes widened. "Are you cracked?" Her voice cracked as she made that accusing inquiry. He used they again. "We are getting you away from here!" Was he trying to get himself killed by some murder hobo hag? She was prepared to kick his ass and drag his motionless body back to the Slytherin common area. She did not even consider the fact that he might have brought her here to be killed. That this was not an explanation. A bonding exercise. 

However, she should not have dallied. From the Forbidden Forest, something was approaching. Whoever, or rather whatever was coming was feminine. Their form, hunched over. The back twisted and deformed. The neck too short considering the 'woman's' relative size. Short, dark hair that was unevenly hewn. Misshapen eyes, yellowed where the whites should have been and the iris' clouded over. She was not nude, but what she wore was tattered and filthy, festooned with thorny sticks and bones. Her sagging bosom swayed like a pair of unfortunate pendulums side to side as she shambled in their direction. Her hands were large, too large for her already massive form. Long dagger-like, thick nails that curved like talons.


That was no man. That looked nothing like the crones she had encountered before. Erin would rummage through her pockets, not for her wand but for an item she knew how to use more. A lockpick knife. She plunged her knife into the lock and jiggled the blade thrice before the lock gave way. The door moved inward and she pushed her way in. If she had a hold on Thomas she would attempt to force him into the cabin. If Ivy was near, if she followed and had not yet fled she would beckon her inside but she would not be foolish enough as to give her long. 

The strange creature would not pursue them with haste, she carried an eerie confidence. She was singing.

London Bridge is falling down,
Falling down, falling down,
London Bridge is falling down,
My fair Lady.

Build it up with wood and clay,
Wood and clay, wood and clay,
Build it up with wood and clay,
My fair Lady.

Wood and clay will wash away,

Wash away, wash away,
Wood and clay will wash away,
My fair Lady...

Words have power, they carry with them not only intent but something fearsome. Words give stories. Words give life and meaning. Words...

The building would creak and groan upon the third verse. Wood and clay will wash away... The walls themselves appeared to shift.

Interacting with @Erin Ryan and @Thomas Lestrange

Erin did not seem to know who 'he' was, nor did she know where they were headed. Ivy's stomach clenched with uneasiness at the last part of her statement, and she looked over at Thomas pleadingly, but there was no response from him either. The two Slytherins slid down an embankment with ease and Ivy hesitated only a little before following, stumbling a little as she landed. It was here that she realised that she would not be able to turn back now by herself; she was unfamiliar with this part of the school, unlike Thomas, who navigated through the place as though he had walked this path a hundred times. Erin seemed quite steady on her feet as well despite the heavy rain, and only Ivy slipped and slid through the mud. So much for ballet lessons, she thought sourly.

As they turned the corner, a small hut came into view. Ivy let out a shaky sigh of relief. Finally, somewhere to hide from the rain. She followed them up onto the porch and for a moment, she was too busy trying to wring the water out of her hair and clothes (to no avail, sadly). Then she looked around and realised that something was off about this place. With charred windowsills, a broken roof and blackened moss on the stones that made up the hut, it looked as though it had been set on fire once. Ivy swallowed and stared at Thomas. Why...?

The Slytherin knocked on the door, and when no one answered, he attempted to push it open. It stayed, much to Ivy's surprise. Despite the house's crumbling foundation, the door seemed sturdy and rather unmoveable - which was rather unfortunate for the trio, as they needed to get inside.

“I don’t suppose you can get that open, Erin?” Thomas asked, turning to Erin.

Ivy's brow furrowed. She thought he had said that they'd be let in, but perhaps she was wrong. Casting another glance at the place, she swallowed. The more she looked, the scarier it seemed.

"No. I will take you back to your dorm," Erin stated, frowning. Her tone was even, but Ivy thought she saw fear flash through the purple-haired girl's eyes for a fraction of a second. Perhaps she was imagining things.

Thomas' gaze shifted - not to Ivy, but Erin's shoulder, as if he were scared or embarrassed of his next words. “You searched for me when no one else did. You deserve to know the truth. I could not have just told you, no. I had to show you..."

"Here?"

"Show her what?" Ivy asked him. Her stomach clenched again. Thomas was acting very, very strange, and she didn't like it. "Thomas!"

“Do not run, do not scream. And do not speak, unless spoken to.”

"I thought we were trying to get out of the rain," Erin whispered harshly. Ivy suspected that it was meant only for Thomas, but she could not help but listen. "Not your kidnappers."

Wait. Kidnappers?

Ivy's heart began to thump loudly. What had she gotten herself into? By the serious way Thomas instructed her and Erin, it sounded like lives were at stake. Ivy wanted to think that the Slytherin boy was messing with them, but one look at his grim expression confirmed that this was not a prank.

“They will not hurt you.”

If Thomas was trying to reassure the terrified girl, it certainly was not working. Something about the way he said it made Ivy think that they would hurt her, whoever "they" were. "Thomas, you're scaring me." Ivy's voice was shaking.

"They? You said HE." There was no mistaking the panic in Erin's voice now.

Thomas appeared to ignore Erin and continued to speak in the same indifferent tone. It was as though he had been possessed. “So, can you open it? It’d be best to get inside for now, if we can. They will come on their own terms.”

"Are you cracked?" Erin demanded loudly. "We are getting you away from here!"

"Thomas, Erin's right." Ivy hoped she sounded braver than she felt. "We should go back to the castle. Let's go. Please." The Gryffindor already had a firm grip on Thomas' sleeve, eager to leave. She nodded at Erin, ready to drag him back to the castle.

But Erin did not move. Ivy looked back at her in surprise to see the Slytherin looking at something ahead of them, and naturally looked forward to see what she was looking at. Immediately, she wished she hadn't.

Ivy did not know how to describe the monster in front of her. It was extremely tall and lumbered slowly toward them, with a small head and greyish skin covered in boils, and nails as long and thick as Ivy's arm. Ivy fought the urge to scream, remembering what Thomas had said, and turned to Erin. The purple-haired girl was already fumbling with a lockpick, and when the door sprang open, Ivy didn't hesitate to drag Thomas and Erin inside. She slammed the door behind them before realising that a door wasn't much help if the monster decided to smash through it.

Outside, the creature was... singing? Its voice, although eerie, was surprisingly pleasant and high-pitched for a such a gigantic thing. The tune itself was soft and lilting, like a gentle lullaby, but Ivy was not familiar with it. Perhaps it was a Muggle song? But why would a magical creature be singing a Muggle song...? Ivy caught some of the lyrics. London Bridge is falling down... my fair lady... build it up... wood and clay... my fair lady... will wash away...

Ivy turned to ask the Slytherins if they recognized the tune. She had never been this scared in her entire life. She clenched her shaking, sweaty hands and took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. Detention did not seem so bad after all.

"…I scream, you scream, we ALL FALL DOWN!"

Somewhere through the wind and rain, another voice was singing a nursery rhyme at the top of its lungs, only this set of pipes belonged to a young boy.

"There, see? I know some old children's songs, too."

A robed figure glanced back over their shoulder as if to speak to a companion, their hood up to shield their face from the stinging drops of pelting rain. From the direction they were facing, they appeared to have come from the castle and taken the same route the other students had on their way to the Groundskeeper's Cabin.

However, upon spotting the misshapen creature encumbered by swaying chesticles, the figure stopped and stared. Then, holding out their arms theatrically, they began to recite a new set of rhymes while slowly taking step by dramatic step toward the feminine-featured humanoid.

"If thou be'st born to strange sights,
Things invisible to see,
Ride ten thousand days and nights,
Till age snow white hairs on thee,
Thou, when thou return'st, wilt tell me,
All strange wonders that befell thee,
And swear,
No where
Lives a woman true, and fair."

Now, how did this mad, song-spouting straggler come to pursue our main trio of this tale?

Well, a while back, a certain red-headed Slytherin had noticed a purple-haired one looking through a window as she appeared to seek someone out. When Erin had left said window, Jack had gone up to it, curious as to what she had seen that had caused her to leave the Common Room so close to nightfall when curfew would soon be upon them. While Jack was not a regular curfew contravener, witnessing both Erin and Thomas heading out across the grounds proved to be too much for the first-year's curiosity. He simply had to find out what the pair were up to.

Along the way, he had been in such a hurry to make it outside before the doors were locked that he run smack dab into another first year who looked vaguely familiar. In order to keep his hold up as short as possible, Jack had explained that he had witnessed some suspicious activity on the part of his housemates and was headed outside to investigate in the hopes he could recall them inside before their house got into trouble and lost points.

Though the vaguely-familiar young man was most certainly not a Slytherin, he seemed intent on following Jack anyway; perhaps in hopes of validating his claims. The redhead was in no mood to argue. In fact, he figured company might have been welcome if things ended as badly as they were starting to seem like they would.

Thus, Jack and his new companion hurried after Thomas, Erin, and a new addition of their own that they must have picked up when Jack had experienced his delay. Eager to keep up with the group, the redhead had then focused on them instead of his follower, only glancing back once he realized only the woman-ish being and himself were visible out in the open. Erin, Thomas, and that other girl must have gotten inside the sad little structure of a building and Jack had no idea if his tagalong had fallen behind or chosen to turn back or what, so he decided to improvise.

To him, that situation was quite simple. In Disney movies, there was often a lovely maiden like Snow White or Briar Rose or even Giselle who sang so sweetly her voice attracted to her the handsome prince with whom she was destined to live happily ever after with forever. Well, right here before Jack was an indisputable maiden, and while her looks might have been debatable, the Slytherin boy had never been the sort to get hung up on mere appearances. Besides, beauty was in the eye of the beholder.

What was more important was that she was singing, and (regardless of her ability to sing on pitch or in tune) it was a familiar song (if the words were anything to judge by) that Jack was happy to say he knew only too well. All that seemed left for him to do in order to complete the perfect story was to join his fair princess in a destined duet.

And yet…what creativity, originality, or fun would there have been in simply singing the same verses as she? So the young Slytherin decided to sing a few new lines of his own.

"London Bridge is not around,
Not around, not around,
London bridge is not around,
My fair Lady.

I think you have gone astray,
gone astray, gone astray,
I think you have gone astray,
My fair Lady.

I will help you, don't dismay,
Don't dismay, don't dismay
I will help you, don't dismay,
My fair Lady."

Would he woo his fair lady with his sweet heart song? Alas, only time and the almighty Lear game master would tell.

@Thomas Lestrange, @Erin Ryan, @Ivy Bellamy, & @Jack Warren

Lear at your service. however too confusing to go between accounts, you will be seeing the moderation done on my student for the sake of ease. 

Inside:

The interior appeared weary. The furnishings filthy, thread bare and torn. It would appear that only some of the furnishings were here before the fire, that there has been life in this place since. A love-seat, once a plaid now for the most part a singular dark brown color of a stain. The sagging seat squat behind a broken, three legged coffee table that was being held straight by a stack of book. They were Hogwarts text books, the ones a first year would use. On the coffee table there was a mason jar that was overflowing with what would appear to be human teeth. 

The floor was covered with an area rug, a weaving of some strange eldritch abomination devouring what appeared to be an infant but the carpet was sticky and stained. There was a small mirror hanging over the love seat, in which the students could see their own reflection. Well, the reflection of a trio that looked just like them, only they were not moving as the trio did. They were banging and screaming, they looked as if they were trying to get out of the mirror. There was no sound. The frame, this black gnarled wood that was lightly charred. Something from before the fire it would seem.

There was a broom closet near the door, it was chained shut with thick, corded chains and a padlock. The padlock had no keyhole but appeared to be covered in blood. The door rattled and banged as if there was something large and angry inside that wanted out. 

If they looked up, they would see a candle lit iron chandelier. It was not large or grand, but rather a humble. The flames emitted a green glow rather than a warm yellow or brown and they were lit by some sort of magic. Hanging from one of the iron arms, a dead bird that was apparently impaled by the limb of the candelabra.  

On the floor, one on the north side of the room and the other on the west, a bedroll. It would appear that two people lived in this place. While the former residence of a crone, his room had been occupied by two other men these past few months. One, Thomas LeStrange. The other, a man of ill repute who wanted to be called Dennis. He kept to himself for the most part and spoke to himself. He was not here, in fact he often went several days at a time traveling to places undisclosed only to return and mutter a generic greeting before he read a book in a corner or pulled out his bed roll to turn in for the night.

The next room, well none of them got that far. It was a small kitchen and there was a bath. It was for the best that none of them went there. 

The Group

Erin slammed her shoulder against the door and fumbled to lock the door that the 'woman' likely had the key for. A futile effort that was nothing more than  instinct. "Someone drag me something heavy," she ordered. Like the love seat if either had the brawn. The coffee table was another option. The scanned the immediate vicinity for something, anything else. There was a bookshelf, it looked heavy despite the fact that there were no books but rather grotesque curiosities:

• A dismembered foot -- growing from the grey foot was two different types of moss as well as a strange spotted mushroom. 
• Eyes of various creatures in jars. 
• Fingers in candlestick holders, with thin wicks coming out of the tips - all of which are lit. 
• Animal parts, some in jars and some in bloody bundles. While obviously inedible, if any time was spent looking at them the looker would feel extremely hungry while examining it.

That would have been enough, but it of course was not. There were several... dolls strewn about the room. Each had different features, were filled with straw and wore various garments all filthy and tattered. Some were fancy, others plain. Not that whoever occupied this house looked like the type to play with dolls. 

If she was assisted or not, she would notice Jack Burnett slide down the same embankment she and Thomas had slid down a few minutes earlier. The rain was still pouring, his glorious hair slicked down. Somehow a good look on him. His clothes clung to him and she caught herself staring despite the dangerous situation they were in. Dammit Parce, you're so distracting!

It was then that sense would seep into her hormonal adolescent brain too overcome with lust to consider the dangerous truth. "Merlin Parce!" She realized as it clicked that he was very much in mortal peril. Yes, Erin made a deal with a coven of crones, crones that she realized too late that they were dangerous. That there was something wrong. This was not the crone she had made a deal with. Crones, or rather hags are dangerous creatures with a 'rudimentary' magic according to their textbooks, likened to trolls but she knew first hand that they were underrepresented. In fact if they carefully reviewed the history of well-known hags, they were powerful casters, potionieers and were known for the cruel intentions. 

She needed to get out of there. The walls were writhing, if one were to describe the motions she would have described it as beating. "Get out of there!" Erin shouted, her voice might have been muffled by the barrier that was the cabin, she sounded panicked because she was. If someone had helped her barricade the door, Erin would attempt to undo their efforts and rip the love-seat, table or bookshelf away from the door to try to run outside and call 'Parce' in.

Action: Unless stopped, Erin attempts to open the door and either leave the cabin to get Jack-Parce or call him inside.

It was an act of passion rather than logic. She would not be able to save the Disney Princess from the hag if the hag was hungry. She would not be able to defeat one either, not as a third year. She was not thinking about probability or chance, she was just doing. 

The Hag

"Thomas!" The hag called out. She was looking for the prodigal student. "Thomas!" She rasped a second time after the verse ended. Indeed, they were not strangers, a deal was made between Thomas and the hag nearly a year ago. This cabin, where she used to house her playthings - things she wanted to enjoy but she could live with if they were broken or taken away. "I smell you and I smell something sweet," she was talking about the girls that Thomas had brought with her. Yes, in this twisted world, Erin was considered sweet as that locket demonstrated the difference a heart can make in even a monster. "What have you brought for me," to eat.

She would shamble, her 'chesticles' would sway as she waddled closer to the cabin when a sweet melody would draw her notice. A long, thin stream of saliva would be washed away by the rain. 

Did Jack Burnett want this?

Taken from Yo, Dude!

“I was on trial.” He glared back towards Erin while he searched his mind through the haze, remembering some of the facts of his experience in the lake. “I had to serve them…for redemption. Until I escaped…or was I let go?” Whatever happened, it wasn't over

"They? You said HE,"

The weight of the rain increased with each breath from Thomas, each word accelerating the blood flow to their beating hearts. One could almost hear this sound as it multiplied. Ivy did not know what Erin began to realize, but the contagion of her fear had a radius that quickly infected the girl. This new presence did not linger behind the wood line very long, beginning a steady approach, why hurry the inevitable. Her large dark figure fought against the distant shadows. There was both a he, and a they. Thomas did not consider it important to share the latter. “She’s coming now…forget the door.”

"Are you cracked? We are getting you away from here!"

"Thomas, Erin's right. We should go back to the castle. Let's go. Please."

[Permission to resist granted by Erin Ryan]

The state of panic behind the boy was once again met by his silence. He fumbled to escape the grasp of the girls’ accumulative effort to pull him away. He turned his shoulders excessively from each touch, attempting to send flying elbows backwards to force the girls back. One of them may have contacted their stomach, warranting a sharp loss of air. Eventually the boy was able to escape, squaring his body with the approaching hag. He approached her hesitantly, traveling down the porch steps as she sung a tune about the London bridge, wood and clay will wash away. Entering the building would do the trio no favors.

Thomas remained fixated on the creature, reaching the bottom of the steps, submerging his boots in the thick adherent mud. As if a knight before his queen, Thomas leisurely lowered his head, coming down to one knee. He waited patiently until the hag concluded singing its tune. He turned his head at the muffled screams from within the building.

"Thomas!”

His head jerked back into focus, wearily gazing up towards the hag.

Thomas! I smell you and I smell something sweet. What have you brought for me,"

“Y-your grace.” His responsive tone trembly with respect as if he spoke to a tyrannical ruler. “I have done as you asked.” Thomas has brought Erin here on this eve, with the intention of fulfilling this implied request. Her involvement with the crones was spoken of that night in the common room, with many witnesses. “Sweet?” There was not a better subject to provide. “You said she would feel no pain...” He reminded the hag, likely an empty promise. A great fool Thomas was to believe the hag would not end her life on this night.

Enter a pair of figures atop the muddy hill, illuminated by the occasional flashes of lightning. From his position, Thomas could not make out the faces of the new parties. He deduced they were too small to be a professor, likely a pair of prefects that discovered the absences during dorm accountability checks…assuming they did those.

It was not until the boy offered a responsive tune that Thomas would recognize this voice. How fitting, the star-crossed lover, Romeo, singing to his one true love. Except he was not singing to Erin Ryan. No, he was singing to the creature. He remained to be Erin’s knight in shining armor, veering the creature’s path away from them, now ascending to greet Fox. Well, greet was an understatement.

For the first time this evening, there was a moment of clarity for Thomas. Though the hag never felt inclined to eat Thomas himself, she expressed her hunger in various ways. She feeds on the innocent, and the pure. Thomas did not believe Fox to be either after the lengthy discussion the two shared in the boys’ dormitory. The hag would deem his blood faulty, there would not be much beyond just a taste... with some tongue action.

[Assuming Erin and Ivy exit the hut]

Thomas rose from his knee, turning back towards the part-veela. He rushed in her direction. “She won’t do it.” If Ivy emerged from behind Erin back into the rainfall, Thomas would shout, motioning towards the castle. “Run!”

“She’s coming now…forget the door.”

Dire trepidation, that was the sense that filled the young girl as she saw the lumbering creature emerge from the fringe of the Forbidden Forest. There was that sense of fight or flight, that instinct of self preservation that screamed run! She could not run away alone, not without Thomas. She tried to grip his hand, his wrist, his forearm, his shirt, it mattered not as long as she had him. Thomas resisted her grip as she tried to pull the dullard into the shack, their only promise of safety. Instinct screamed that shelter was their best option. To flee rather than face whatever danger came trudging from the woods. 

She had no issue with Ivy. If there was a resentment felt towards her for being another person to consider, it was in the back of her head. She did not know the girl and therefore had no affection for her. She obviously had some affection for Thomas because she tried to save him. He would not come with her, he slipped from her grip and she did not notice as she ordered them to get her something heavy to block to door. 

But she would soon realize the purpose of their journey and her heart would ache. It called out his name. He was waiting for her and called her your grace. She would feel sick, her stomach would twist and she would have the urge to vomit. Ivy hadn't done anything, time seemed to slow. It felt as if she had been standing there for over a week. As if she and... was that Paracelsus? By Merlin it was!

Her hand shook as she took the knob in her hand and opened the door. How did he get out here? He was so far from the castle... There was a part of her that thought he was working with Thomas after he addressed the crone telling her that he had done as she had asked. She had not known that when she had divulged what she knew of crones she had revealed something dangerous. She had made that deal with another set of crones. Crones prefer to work alone but work best in threes. This crone would be working with two others, all of which would have been aware for the most part with what deals they have made. That would mean that Erin either made a deal with a crone that was done in secret without the other two knowing, treachery within their ranks, or even worse... there was a second coven. The later would prove disastrous for not only the hags but who or whatever was caught in the crossfires.

“Sweet?” 

She was not referring to Erin but rather Ivy, the sweet airhead she likely was or Erin's idiot boyfriend. Yes, Paracelsus was a good guy, he never seemed capable of making time for her and he never seemed to care for her in particular until recently, but he always accepted her even if it was on the level of tolerance. Erin yelled for him but it was a measure of futility as he serenaded the monster.  

And like many dead bards before him, he rolled for seduction. 

Was success a 'bad roll' or a 'good roll'?

What was he doing?

“You said she would feel no pain...”

The sort of phrase you use when telling someone that before you put their dog down. Before you put down a potential threat in case someone was reticent. If she had not believed that she was lured to her demise before, after all he had insisted multiple times that Ivy return to the castle. He wanted to bring only Erin, promises of a truth. What a fucking crock. Not that she had time to stew or even glower at the snake. "Friends..." she muttered through clenched teeth. She could not even look at him. She did not have the time. She did not have that luxury.

"Fuck off," her voice shook but she was not crying. Not on the outside at least. Her eyes burned but nothing would come, her heart was bounding. Those flood gates would open later when she had time to mentally grasp what had just happened. If she lived that long. 'Fuck off' might be the last words she ever said to the boy, today his vengeance. 

She dashed towards the hag. There was no conniving. There was no time. Just brawn, luck and the unlikelihood of her choice that would dictate her motions. Thomas was between her and the hag but she was not going to assail him. It was a waste of time. He likely never heard what she said from the cabin, not that she cared either way. Perhaps that was why he turned towards her. Or perhaps it was when she called Paracelsus' name.

“She won’t do it.”

Thomas claimed as if he could be trusted at his word. His lips moved, his throat made noises but the sounds that came out would ring as hollow and untrue. Erin knew one thing about hags and one thing about Parce, even his Parce. He was too good for her. The operative word there was good. She did not know about the cruel trick, that she was indeed unlovable. Perhaps had she, she would not have been so willing now. No, she would have still tried. There was a part of Erin that realized her friendship with LeStrange likely went one way, not to this degree of course, but she knew. 

"She is going to kill him!" Erin snapped as she brandished her wand. Erin was a terrible wizard, she had always lacked the passion until they saved her from the dreary existence that was nothing but shades of grey. Was she better now? Yes, some but she was not even close to as strong as a hag. Both her hands gripped the wand and she shook but continued to move closer to the hag and that terrible stench. Old, forgotten fish and cottage cheese. "Alarte Ascendare!" She shouted at Jack Burnett rather than the hag as she made a swishing motion with her wand.  

Alarte Ascendare - a spell that makes the target fly up high into the air, in this case Jack. If the hag held on, she would be going for a ride. Jack would suffer for being shot so high up with no means of a painless descent, the ground was muddy but it would still be hard. He would likely break a leg or an arm, hopefully not his neck. 

My accuracy v Jack's evasion to hit.
Erin: 2 + 7 (Accuracy)
Jack: 4 + 7 (Evasion)

Erin Missed.

@Erin Ryan @Thomas Lestrange @Jack Burnett

Perhaps in her fear, Ivy's brain had stopped working, because Thomas had not followed them into the hut, and she did not notice until Erin ordered for them to get something to block the door and she looked around for him to see... nothing. Scrambling for the window, she could see that Thomas was approaching the monster. Why the hell was he approaching it? Had he lost his goddamn mind?

Ivy's grey eyes would widen with confusion when she heard the monster call out Thomas' name, its voice high-pitched and eerie, and when he responded with 'your grace', her confusion only grew. She glanced over at Erin, who was watching from the window, stony-faced. What am I missing? Through the thick rain, Ivy could see the figure of - one person? two people? Someone was singing, that was for sure, a song with similar words and tune to the one the monster had been singing. For a second, she thought it might be a professor or two, and she sagged in relief. But as the figures neared, she realised, with a sinking heart, that they were students. Ivy did not recognize either of them, but Erin did, screaming out the name 'Parce'. The Gryffindor frowned - another mention of whoever 'Parce' was once again.

Erin fumbled with the door, but Ivy's stupid brain did not fully process what she was doing until she ran out into the rain. Have they all gone mental?! She briefly pondered whether or not idiocy was a common trait among Slytherins before running after her. Perhaps Ivy, too, was an idiot, for she did not stop to think that she would be safer in the hut. "Wait! Stop!"

As she neared Thomas, trailing after Erin, Ivy noted that he had announced that he had done as the monster had asked. A shiver went down her spine as she realised that the monster itself was a hag, a dark creature she had read about during her DADA class. It had seemed like a waste of time in the classroom and she had not read the passage properly, as Ivy thought she would never encounter a hag or an Acromantula as she did not plan on chasing after them anyway. Now she wished that she had paid more attention - Ivy knew she could not come out unscathed, but the more she knew the better her chances of surviving were.

"Sweet? You said she would feel no pain," came Thomas' voice, his tone holding a hint of doubt as he spoke. She. Who was it that he was referring to? Ivy, or Erin? She did not understand what was happening, but she knew that she was scared. Why, oh why, had she not returned to the castle when she had the chance? She watched the exchange between Erin and Thomas in confusion. Trying to understand this was like a fish trying to understand oxygen. Erin was clenching her teeth, eyes furious as she swore angrily at Thomas.

"Fuck off."

"She won't do it." Thomas sounded as though he were trying to reassure her, but his words seemed to aggravate Erin even more.

"Do what?" Ivy demanded loudly. "What on earth is happening? Why were you talking to the hag?"

Thomas turned to her. Was that remorse that flashed in his eyes? Ivy couldn't be sure.

"Run!" he ordered, gesturing toward to the castle wildly. Ivy would be happy to oblige, but it would be cowardly and selfish if she ran and left Erin and Thomas - and the pair she had seen coming over - alone with the hag, although she wouldn't be much help in defeating the hag, who had now picked up a boy - notably, the one who had been singing earlier on, much to Ivy's alarm. Struck dumb with horror and unsure of what to do in such a situation, she could only stare as Erin shouted an incantation, fired a spell in the hag's direction... and missed. The sight of a spell being used seemed to stir Ivy from her stupor and she drew her wand from her pocket as well, but not to attack the hag. Reminding herself of the spell she had been taught in DADA at the very start of the school year, the Gryffindor raised her wand to the sky and shouted, "Periculum!" The spell, if successful, would shoot up red fireworks into the night sky, and hopefully attract someone who knew how to handle this situation.

Action: attempts to cast Periculum into sky

A follow-up reminder as we are approaching the month mark.

The bright light would blade from the tip of Ivy's wand and briefly color the sky. It was not much, but it was enough to draw unwanted attention to this reunion. Had there been a post in the past near 2 months from the boy trapped in the hag's embrace, he would have known that there is a thin grey area between passion and hunger. That Jack was by far the sweetest thing near besides perhaps the girl out of her reach. That it was not for lust that the hag would devour but rather an appetite for another kind.

Erin would try to rip Jack free, but her cast would fizzle. She was a brawler, not a caster. Failure however not an option for Erin. She would not heed Thomas' claim that she would not do it. Bullshit. She would make a decision with her heart rather than her head as she rushed the hag. Erin never was the sort to back down, not when she had a reason. However, the flare was all it took to loosen this hag's grip over these past 2 months few seconds. Enough for Jack to slide out, even if he is enamored by the feel of cellulite and chapped lips. Enough for Erin to grab the hormonal pre-teen by the collar and drag him away.

The hag would not try to capture Jack, but rather her rough hand would grip Thomas' forearm. "Come boy, before they arrive." The voice a crackling whisper.

TL;DR

Just ending the thread so we can all move on.