[Dungeons] Leave it to Hogwarts

[Rosalind Matthews]

Rosalie was there with Myles but barely. The world was simply spinning all around her and she had no idea when it would stop. She was a fragile little thing apparently not one up for adventures, unlike her sister who would probably think this whole thing was fun some great treat. Rosa felt completely different she just wanted to go back to her common room where she would be safest. The situation with the odd looking portrait was already freaking her out.

Luckily Myles closed it, but after he did Rosa heard the weirdest noises and let out a small shriek. What was going on? Myles started to move on and for whatever reason Rosa followed. Her head shaking she went on with the boy clueless about the goings on around her. Son there were more of them but Rosa hadn't realized until fear loosened it's grip on her.

"Holy crap where did you all come from?" she said a wee bit shocked and a lot confused. Now she truly felt as if she were loosing it.

[Kohana Engel]

‘Wah!’ Caught off guard, Kohana thumped backwards against the door.

Professor Vickers conjured up beside them as though from tangible light, merely collecting himself together from the tiny particles of the room, waiting in his most contented state until someone might require him. Astonished as she was, Kohana did not think to question why he should be here at all – hadn’t he ascended to a more fitting realm for his nature of existence? Perhaps the stars had become lonesome.

‘Professor! We were lost – your room, it just appeared from nowhere!’ But Professor Vickers was not listening.

Exchanging mystified expressions with Rosalind and Myles, Kohana demurely approached the portrait again. Though the professor’s gazed remained transfixed on figments of the atmosphere no one else could see, Kohana sensed his attention resting on her in different ways, and so observed the yellow chalk with awed respect. It had been rubbed down to barely a stub from use, but crashed and dashed over the black surface with vigour, the rudimentary forms of the trees growing more elaborate with each stroke – and they, too, seemed to have a conscience. They erased and redrew themselves under a graphical wind, appearing to sway from side the side.

From the bottom corner of the board emerged four stick figures, their faces drawn in immense detail. Three girls and a boy, all running in fright. Unblinking, Kohana sunk to her knees, better to observe their map through the yellow-dust forest.

‘Are they us?’ She asked vacantly, eyes growing wide as the chalk sketched out a gigantic bird...

[Myles Bentley]

In a fraction of a second, the span of one blink, Allion was by Kohana's side. Myles had been paying rapt attention and yet did not see the man approach, though still materialising as though it was absolutely ordinary for him to do. You can't apparate in Hogwarts, he thought to himself, even though he was fully aware he had never suspected it was apparation in the first place.

"I was wondering that same thing myself, Rosalind," Myles breathed, though he wasn't sure if anyone heard them. Allion seemed to be focused, as much as one could be with such hazy eyes, on the drapes he was slowly pulling down. Palms. Unfamiliar, spidery, glowing.

The sound of chalk called for his attention, and the Slytherin sent a suspicious gaze to the former portrait. It moved speedily, with purpose, the yellow dust creating a fog similar to that of the crystal ball from before. For a brief moment, Myles caught Kohana's eye and noticed the same curious frown on her face that was surely etched on his own. They stood still, letting the the professor's words echo around them, and as Kohana grew immersed in the drawing, Myles drew away.

"Professor," He began, leaving Rosalind's side and following Allion to the windowsill. "We..."

The Slytherin's demanding voice trailed off as his vision caught a boy sprinting into the forest. A boy he recognised - a student. "Is that Ashby?" Myles wanted Allion to explain things - explain why Edan Ashby was running into the forest with his wand arm exposed. "And look at Kristiana," He marveled, watching as the girl also ventured toward the trees.

Turning to Kohana quickly, lest he miss anything else completely bizarre, Myles noticed the detailed faces and recognised them instantly. "No... I think it's them."

Myles pointed to the window, the pace of his breath quickening. There was a bright flash that blinded him for a mere second, and belatedly, he realised it was Dania's camera. The photograph she had just caught would have been of Ethel entering the forest only a minute before her.

[Prof. Allion Vickers]

Allion leaned against Kohana's illuminated palm, the glowing lines making him look all the more ethereal. He watched his former students curiously, an inkling of a smile on his face, before pushing himself away from the window.

Numerous lines flickered on Kohana's pseudo palm before finally disappearing.

"Is it?" Providing the blackboard with the attention it craved, Allion placed a finger against the dust. It trailed a yellow raindrop as it fell toward the trees and when he withdrew it, the pad of his finger was wet. "Have you ever read Romeo and Juliet, Kohana?" He asked suddenly, just as Myles seemed to have made a discovery.

The professor smiled brightly, capturing his chalk before it could depict anything else. "There was once a rather hysterical man named after Mercutio," he continued while the blackboard teetered as if put off balance without the continuous scribbling. "I had a portrait of him once," He pointed up in the air to where hundreds of famous paintings lined the ceiling. They were spaced evenly except for one obvious area where artwork was missing. "Tell me if you find it, would you?"

With that rather peculiar statement, Allion held out his hand where the stub of chalk squirmmed in the middle of his palm. Smiling somewhat amusedly, the professor placed it on one of the circular tables beside her.

Before she could react, Dania's camera flashed. It brightened the entire room, blinding them more than it should have from such a distance, and when it faded Allion was no longer before them.

The door behind his desk, however, was slightly ajar. [/color]

[Kohana Engel]

‘Romeo and Juliet?’ Kohana echoed, so absorbed in the picture show that it felt damaging to look away.

Following Professor Vickers’s direction, Kohana cast her eyes up towards the cavernous ceiling, the only part of the room the daylight could not quite relieve of its darkness. Meticulously arranged to compliment colours, styles and measurements loomed over one hundred paintings, oil eyes watching from whichever possessed a sentient subject. ‘But there are thousands of portraits in this school,’ she murmured. ‘And I simply can’t stand to look at them...’

BAMPH!

Kohana’s eyes grew moon-like under the magnesium flash, vision lost to a constellation of black stars. She fell back in bewilderment and grabbed onto the table for support. ‘Was that you?’ she demanded of Myles, unable to see what he commentated on outside the window. Professor Vickers travelled away from her now, the absence of his aura more noticeable than his physical proximity. Blinking away the imperfections, she searched the room for him.

‘He’s gone!’ She exclaimed. Despite her initial shock, the nature of their situation had long ago called for an end to such astonishment.

Looking back at the board, she had clearly missed something. Now the minute spectres soared through the treetops on winged horses, spindly and unnatural in the chalk’s rendition. They aspired upwards to the damp oval of Allion’s thumbprint, but as the first rider flew into its impossible destination, tragedy struck.

They vanished, one by one. Like a raincloud Allion’s mark had began to perspire, growing into a sizeable droplet that engulfed each figure as it touched it. Kohana was forced to climb to her feet and stumble backwards as it then let go entirely, pouring down the board and onto the marble floor like clean, transparent blood.

With startling speed it spread across the room, washing over Persian rugs and lapping at Myles’s feet. ‘I think we should go.’ She suggested, looking somewhat guiltily at the Slytherin.

Withdrawing her wand with the intention to blast their way out of the Divination classroom Kohana turned toward Professor Vickers’s private door, only to realise it now stood open. Had he gone through it? Kohana made to pursue him, but abruptly halted.

Slowly opening her palm, she gazed down at the fragment of yellow chalk she held. She did not recall picking it up.

[Myles Bentley]

They were gone.

Myles watched the trees pull inward and winced though he couldn't hear the brutal snapping. Kohana was lost to him as he leaned forward, attempting to find Ashby's robes or the whip of Kristiana's hair amidst the opal darkness. It was futile, he realised, pressing his fingers into the glass. Myles' gaze was hindered by a fog, thick and unruly - one reminiscent of a crystal ball.

Absorbed, it took the Slytherin a moment to understand the chill that crept across his heel. Waves continued to crash against his shoes and soak the hem of his pants, and it wasn't until Kohana's jostling tone that Myles finally drew his gaze away from the forest.

"What did you do?" His voice was dark and accusatory, reluctant to be pulled away from the room. It felt mysterious; captivating - like it held secrets and valuable information, what he had spent ages subconsciously looking for.

It wasn't just the water now, though it still lapped passively against them, like a predator waiting to strike. The portraits began to wail, a shower of nails dust spiralling down toward them as they slid off their hinges and down the wall. Where Myles' fingers pressed against the window sill, there was suddenly less restraint - it grew thin and willoy, like a sheet, and he lurched forwards.

Seemingly returning to himself, Myles yelled out in surprise and pulled back, withdrawing his fingers. The paint from the portraits looked like it was melting, dripping down the walls in a cascade of brutal colours, staining Myles' shirt and Kohana's unfurled palm. Even the walls seemed to drip away, becoming a water-logged blur, and it was now hard to miss the open door, the only unmarred portion of the room.

"Through there?" There was no where else to run. The piercing screams of dying portraits torched their ears, and with the force of his entire arm, Myles yanked the heavy door. As soon as it creaked open, the three were shown the scenery of Hogwarts' only library and facing a book that was quite obviously turned toward them.

The only thing he caught on the page before one of the ambling students snatched it up protectively, was the word Griffin.

And then Myles ambled toward safety.

[Kohana Engel]

‘What? It’s not that bad,’ she retorted in self-defense. Myles’s eyes burned with a higher concern than the water lapping at their feet, however.

Following his gaze, Kohana came to behold the lava of colours that descended all around them, sliding down the walls like probing, psychedelic fingers. Metallic greys and mustard yellows soaked the hangings in a watery slug; even the intricate stitching of the palm-drapes congealed to glue. The room was slowly turning into the waste of a paint factory, and Kohana failed to move in time before royal purple sludge dribbled down one side of her head.

The faces in the paintings cried out meekly, their previous smiles now melting into morbid grimaces as Kohana and Rosalind followed Myles. The three of them now plunged through Allion’s door just as the ceiling of the Divination classroom collapsed like a tidal wave, crushing whatever lay below it...

No more water pursued them, though.

The library was as quiet as always, one or two students suspended in deep concentration. For them, there would have been no commotion to accompany Myles, Kohana and Rosalind’s inexplicable arrival. All they saw were a Slytherin, Gryffindor and Ravenclaw stood in a row against an empty wall, feet soaked in a puddle, robes and hair coated in a rainbow of thick colours.

Other than that, things were how they had always been.

‘Looks like you finally found the library, Rosalind.’ An awkward silence washed over the three of them now, more uncomfortable than any of the suspicious substances on them. ‘This isn’t over.’ Kohana whispered, only Myles and Rosalind able to hear.

They did not look at each other again as they parted ways.