Thursday, December 8, 1994

Ravenclaw Common Room

23:34 PM

Percival Ebonwood's POV

Jenifer had started walking up the stairs, and Pricilla and Isabel necked down their drink as an angry Professor Flitwick entered the room with a first-year student.

"Go to bed, and we'll discuss this tomorrow."

The first year walked past Jenifer as she chose to re-join us. Once the student had gone, Flitwick turned his attention to us.

"And what exactly are you up to at this hour?" he asked, his voice a mix of curiosity and reprimand.

"We were just... having a late-night chat," Pricilla said, trying to sound innocent and not drunk, but failing miserably.

"With a few drinks," Isabel added, lifting her nearly empty glass in a mock toast.

Flitwick's eyes twinkled with amusement, but he maintained his stern demeanour. "I see. Well, if you're going to indulge, you might as well do it right." With that, he grabbed a bottle of Hennessy from the table, popped the cap, and took a hearty swig. We all watched, stunned, as he downed it with surprising ease.

"Now," he said, setting the bottle back down with a satisfied sigh. "Oh, that hit the spot."

"What happened with that kid?" Jenifer asked. "Why were they out after curfew and with you?"

"This is going to be a good story. So I was finishing marking some papers in my classroom, and I saw the clock. It's almost bedtime, so I made my way to here. Going passed the Gryffindor tower, I hear a commotion, and I went to see what happened. That first-year you saw? He somehow managed to break into the Gryffindor common room. And McGonagall... well, let's just say she wasn't too pleased."

Isabel and Pricilla exchanged intrigued glances, and I leaned in, eager to hear more.

"She had a right go at him," Flitwick continued. "Threatened to have him expelled on the spot. She said it was a breach of security and all sorts of other things."

"Expelled?" Jenifer gasped. "Isn't that a bit extreme for a first-year? I mean, I remember trying to break into other common rooms and failing miserably."

"Wait!" I said. "That first year managed to get into the Gryffindor common room? A first year?"

"I had the same reaction as you. I thought it was a joke," Flitwick said. "But McGonagall was dead serious. I was thinking of giving him an award for managing to break into a common room as a first year."

"He shouldn't get an award," Isabel said. "He should get one named after him."

"That was what I was thinking," Flitwick replied with a wry smile. "I get the whole scolding situation, but the threat of expulsion? The fucking hypocrisy. When her Golden Trio broke into the Slytherin common room, they were let off with less than a slap on the wrist. A detention, if I recall correctly."

"When did they do that?"

"During the Chamber of Secrets fiasco," Flitwick said as we gestured for him to continue. "Miss Potter, Miss Granger, and Longbottom thought Malfoy was the heir, so they brewed Polyjuice and impersonated a few students. They interrogated Malfoy and left the room. They would have gotten away with it if Malfoy hadn't told Severus about the weird interaction. Severus, Pomona, and I wanted them punished, but Albus and Minerva said they were young, and young people make mistakes. We should let them off, and we hope that they learned their lesson."

"Unbelievable," Pricilla muttered. "How is that fair? Is a detention all they got?"

"Granger did turn into a cat girl for a few weeks. I'm not sure if you could call that punishment," Flitwick said.

"How did they brew polyjuice?" Jenifer asked. "I'm not sure about you a lot, but I still struggle with brewing a polyjuice potion."

"Albus gave them a good dose after he replaced Granger's attempt," Flitwick clarified. "Severus was not happy when he wasn't reimbursed for stolen ingredients. He made sure Albus knew he was unhappy. I love that man's vicious streak."

"Did you stick up for the kid?" Pricilla asked.

Flitwick nodded. "I pointed out the hypocrisy to McGonagall, but she wasn't in the mood to listen. Said things were different then, and that times have changed. But the way I see it, rules should be applied consistently, no matter who's involved."

"Well, at least the first-year won't be expelled, right?" Isabel asked hopefully.

"Not if I have anything to say about it," Flitwick assured her. "I'll make sure the punishment fits the crime. A few detentions, some extra homework, but nothing more severe. Same as those three lion cubs. Oh, before I forget: I wasn't the first person on the scene with Minerva. That honour lies with your friend Jessica, and she did not seem to pleased dealing with her for just under an hour. I suggest you lay off the booze for the rest of the night. You don't want her to walk in into this, do you now? Good night."

We all nodded, and as Flitwick made his way out of the room. We all looked at each other with the same look, and let out the same phrase: Fuck.

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"I don't want to do it," Isabel said suddenly, breaking the silence.

"Fucking hell, I'm not dealing with her," Jenifer says.

"Not me, bitches," Pricilla said. "Percy, you're on clean up today."

"Hell no. I dealt with the last two instances of a pissed Jessica," I said.

"And she was less pissed when we came back into the room," Pricilla said.

Just then, the door creaked open, and Jessica walked in, a white bunny cradled in her arms. Her expression was unreadable as she looked around at us.

"What's going on here?" she asked, making her way to the table and plopping down in a chair. Without waiting for an answer, she grabbed a bottle and chugged a drink, setting it down with a satisfied sigh.

"Uh, nothing," Pricilla said quickly, glancing nervously at the rest of us.

Jessica raised an eyebrow but didn't press the issue. Instead, she reached down and untied a small letter from the bunny's neck, handing it over to me.

"Here, this came for you," she said, settling the bunny on her lap.

"What's with the bunny?" Isabel asked, trying to stifle her laughter.

"It's how Percy and his research team communicate. I don't get the bunny, but it's cute," Jessica said as she held the bunny up and showed the others.

I opened the letter, scanning the contents quickly. They suggested a face-to-face meeting at midnight tonight.

Jessica watched me read, then leaned back in her chair. "So, what's the deal with Fleur and you?" she asked, her eyes flicking at me.

"Nothing," I said. "What do you think is happening?"

"Oh, come on," Jessica said, rolling her eyes. "It's obvious. You two have been all lovey-dovey lately. Spill."

"I think we're something more than friends," I replied.

"Tell us about the picnic," Jessica said.

"How do you know about the picnic?" I asked.

"Come on, do you think she came up with the idea herself?" Jessica asked.

"Yeah."

"She asked what you'd like, and I suggested the picnic," Jessica said. "She knew that we were sleeping together, but we weren't serious. So, she decided to take her chance."

"I knew it," Isabel said as she jumped up. "You two thought I was crazy for suggesting they were together. Pay up. 5 galleons each. Seven years of spending so much time together, and not a single strand of romantic interest. It's purely platonic, my ass! So how did it start? Give me those details."

"Why am I wrong again?" Jenifer muttered.

"I was going through some things; he was there for me. One day I kissed him, and yeah," Jessica said.

"Did you two do it while he was with Penelope?"

"I didn't have any action while I was with Penelope. She wanted to stay pure until her wedding night, but we all know how that turned out," I said.

"Is Fleur okay with this?" Isabel said as she gestured to us.

"I don't know why she would be. She and Sarah had a thing, but you don't see them making a big thing out of it," Jessica said. "And being realistic, very few people who are close haven't experimented together during their time at Hogwarts. The only silver lining we have is that we all go through the chastity ritual before we get married to our betrothed, so we could lose our 'first' together."

"Still, you two," Isabel said.

"It's not like we tried to hide it," Jessica said. "Like how you're hiding that cute little boy, Isabel? Why don't you tell us about him?"

"He's cute, and nice," Isabel said.

"Cut the crap," Pricilla said. "We all know you don't go after 'nice' guys."

"He has a few kinks, and one of them is being submissive. I'm training his pain tolerance," Isabel said. "What about you, Pricilla? Have you and your fiancé gone all the way?"

"We've only kissed, and no. We have not gone all the way. During the engagement, I did the chastity ritual, so my new first belongs to him," Pricilla said.

"What happens if, you know?" Jenifer asked.

"If one of us does it, the marriage would not be recognised by magic, and we both would probably be disowned by our families," Pricilla said. "Trust me, when you get engaged, you will get a vivid descriptions of the consequences if you lose your second chastity before getting married. Anyway, it's getting late. Should we all turn in?"

Everybody nodded as we turned to look at the mess on the table. They all looked reluctant to clean it up.

"Fine, I'll clear up," I said.

They said thank you before going up the stairs. After cleaning up the table and gathering the empty bottles, I left the common room. The castle was quiet at this hour, with only the occasional flicker of a torch to light my way. I made my way towards the fifth floor, my footsteps echoing softly against the stone walls.

As I turned down a familiar corridor, it felt familiar yet strange. The corridor seemed to warp around me as I walked, the straight path twisting into impossible angles. The walls appeared to undulate, curving and bulging as if they were alive. The floor beneath my feet was uneven, sloping unexpectedly, causing me to stumble. Doorways floated in the air, disconnected from the ground, their frames tilted at unnatural angles. I felt the temperature drop, a coldness creeping into my bones. Every step I took felt wrong, as if the very fabric of the corridor was fighting against my presence.

The clocktower chimed midnight, its sound reverberating through the twisted hallway. As the final chime faded, a door materialised in front of me. It was old and weathered, with strange runes carved into its surface. I reached out, my hand trembling slightly, and pushed it open.

The room beyond was dimly lit, the flickering light casting shadows on the rough, singed walls. The air was thick with the smell of burnt wood and something metallic. The atmosphere was oppressive, as if the very air carried a weight that pressed down on my shoulders. It felt like stepping into a cave that had recently witnessed a fierce fire, the scent of ash lingering in the air.

At the centre of the room sat Stregobor, his back to me, hunched over a workbench cluttered with instruments and bubbling potions. The light from a nearby cauldron cast a ghastly glow on his face, making his features appear sharp and sinister. I could see the faint outlines of runic symbols glowing on the walls, pulsating with an unnatural energy.

I approached cautiously, my footsteps barely making a sound on the singed stone floor. I stopped a few paces behind him, feeling a coldness settle in my bones. "What do you want?" I asked, my voice cutting through the silence.

Stregobor didn't turn around immediately. He continued his work, adjusting a vial here, muttering an incantation there. The cauldron bubbled ominously, casting strange reflections on the walls. Finally, he spoke, his voice low and gravelly.

"The human psyche. Such a curious concept. It rose in prominence during my childhood. The psyche is split into three parts: the ego, superego, and id. The ego is the only part of the conscious personality. It's what the person is aware of when they think about themselves and what they usually try to project towards others. Your ego projects a boy that wants to save the unsavable," Stregobor said as he got up. He picked up a small notebook and walked towards me. Stregobor towered above me and shoved the notebook into my chest. He then walked to the sink behind him and started to wash his hands.

"The superego operates on the morality principle and motivates us to behave in a socially responsible and acceptable manner. To conform. To obey. To yield. Your superego, like mine, likes to work in the murkiest of greys."

"No, it doesn't."

The taps screeched as Stregobor slowly turned them. He grabbed the rag by the side. He dried his hands as he walked towards me.

"Death means very little in the pursuit of progress," Stregobor said as he chuckled and walked towards his desk. "What did you feel as those girls died in your hands as you promised to find the cure for the Greengrass girl?"

Stregobor stood there for a moment, gazing into the eyes of the portrait, before taking it down. He then put his hand on the stone. The stone Stregobor pushed began to tremble, and the stone wall moved strangely. A small hole appeared in the middle, and the opening became bigger and bigger. It took a few seconds for an archway to appear. Stregobor walked into the darkness, and walked out with two notebooks.