The Shadow of Slytherin

A red ocean of freckles

"Merlin's sake, Atticus!" Standing outside the great hall you close your eyes and think. Although it would make sense for Atticus to put Garreth in the dungeons, it is too obvious. "Humanum revelio." At the sight of hundreds of glowing spot around, most of them behind you, a distant spot draws your attention across the Viaduct courtyard. "Where in Merlin's name are you, Garreth?"

The faint glow leads you down the stairs into central hall and past the fat monk towards the potions classroom. Once again you cast the spell, this time without speaking the incantation to see what is moving before you in the classroom. Too small for Professor Sharp, who also performs at the great hall this moment, you peak through the gap at the hinges of the ajar door.

Her golden curls tied back, the wooden spoon stirring in a bright pink mixture, Tara leans over the cauldron, smelling her potion. A gleeful smile wanders onto her lips as she uses a quick spell to enlarge the fire under the cauldron and stirs faster until light pink bubbles rise from the cauldron and pop mid air, a shower of small sparks pattering onto the table. "Perfect, just a few more minutes."

Shaking your head, you step back, your heel kicking against one of the cauldrons near the door, the click alarming Tara, who comes running to the door, her eyes lingering on the spot where you stand, the disillusionment charm over you, your breath stifled in your lungs as you watch her spin around, grunting as she heads towards the door.

In that time, you have rushed down the stairs and along the hallway to the other side where you find the trolls. A relieved sigh comes over your lips and when you use revelio again, one of the tapestries at the wall glows. The eyes wide, you stare down at your wand. The old one never had enough power to show anything this hidden and when you approach the tapestry, you notice a small flicker in the wizard's hand.

Coarse fabric brushes against your fingertips when you cheer and press against the ring on the wizard's finger, a small door snapping open. The hand rubbing over your shin, you inspect the small door, but when you crouch down to get through, the door extends to enough space to walk straight.

Into the darkness you wander, using humanum revelio once again in the hopes of finding anyone. Then you spot it, another faint glow, crouched on the ground, and some figures, of thin light dancing above. The death party room. Rushing out the door, you stumble over a desk and spin around to stand amidst the detention room, shaking your head as you hurry through the door and along the corridor to your right to find the ghosts dance through the room.

Old, rotten pumpkins stand all around, some dried twigs and turnips on the tables while the ghosts enjoy themselves and chat. "Oh, Morningstar, pleasure to see you here. Have you lost interest in the celebrations upstairs and decided to dance with us instead?" Floating next to a table, Richard Jackdaw approaches, the hand held out. "May I have this dance then?"

"I would love to, but I am in search of someone else right now. Has Atticus Gray passed through here?"

Another ghost clicks their tongue, the head shaken. "Oh, that boy was rude. He told us to mind our own business, can you believe?"

Casting the spell again, you have a look around, noticing a heavy chest near the other side of the room, books and linen piled on top. Pulling it all off in one go, you unlock the chest and lift the lid, squinted eyes staring back at you.

With one hand underneath his arm, you pull Garreth to a stand, the dust sailing from his hair as he struggles to take out the twisted linen tied in his mouth. "Where is Gray, he is dead, Morningstar. Dead."

"For once, I agree with you, Garreth, now let's get you cleaned."

Following him to the nearest wash rooms, you wait until he has cleaned the dust off his face and hands, but it sticks to his hair no matter how often he shakes his head or ruffles through them. Cussing, he hops into the shower while you conjure a fresh set of clothes.