A little after 4 pm


Walking out of History of Magic after it was finished, Megan had a break in her schedule before dinner, which was always welcome. Since the school only began again recently, the fifth years didn't get an abnormal amount of work yet, but she was sure that it would be coming eventually. Thankfully, the work was manageable, so she decided to put it off for the time being. Perhaps even doing it after dinner, as it wasn't that high of a priority just yet.

Ever since she came back to Hogwarts, Megan heard the various noises of gossip around its halls. As usual, it was about select students, and what happened to them over the break. She was worried about the rumors of Sasha being called a murderer, knowing that they would escalate after Sasha's spell casting in Defense Against the Dark Arts.

Yet, that wasn't the only rumor that concerned Megan. There was one already circulating about the mummy scare in that British Museum that she went to over the break. She even saw the Daily Prophet articles, her picture clearly visible. Thankfully the Ministry cleaned it up relatively quickly, so it hopefully wouldn't be in any of the muggle papers. Yet, she really had no idea. She hadn't received any mail from home, so she assumed nothing was said. But, at school was an entirely different story.

With a sigh, Megan walked down the hallway, and stopped by a window. Sitting down on the window sill, she peered outside the window to the grounds below. Despite the cool breeze from outside, she didn't try to pull her cloak closer. Rather, she just sat there, thinking about the past events.

There was, João thought, no reason that a castle should even have suits of armor.  They were bulky, clanking, and rusted easily, not to mention that the ones at Hogwarts seemed to complain almost without cessation since his hiring.  The position that he'd filled had apparently been open since the end of the prior school year, which meant that most of the proper maintenance had gone undone for months.  Since his arrival at the magical school at the beginning of January, all of his spare time had been spent scrubbing, cleaning, oiling, and fixing - all tasks that were well beneath him, and all tasks that Analiza insisted could not be left undone for fear of 'blowing his cover.'

And so João had been left, day after day, dragging himself and his wand through the hallways as he fought a losing battle against the dirt and grime in the castle.  To make matters worse, a colony of Bundimun had moved in sometime in the intervening months and launched an attack, taking refuge in every dark, hidden corner.  Having to spend his days cleaning was bad enough without knowing when the next patch of multi-eyed fungus was going to start spitting acid at him.

That had been the problem with the current suit of armor.  He had come to hate the suits even more than the rest of the castle (except for the staircases, which were by far the most impatient and had a tendency to turn into slides or change location on him if they didn't think he was scrubbing quickly enough).  This one had gotten his attention by raising a hand when he'd walked by, and then, when he'd tried to pretend he hadn't seen it and had continued marching by, had started waving its halberd in a threatening manner until he'd finally relented and come over to see what it wanted. 

Eyes, dozens of them, blinked back at him from under the face plate.  More Bundimun.  João glared at it.  He was getting more practice with his Scouring charms in less than a week than he had in the past twenty-odd years.  Resisting the urge to start swearing fluently in Spanish at it, he stomped away in the direction of his office.  The cursed castle's ban on Apparition meant that every time he needed to fetch cleaning supplies, he'd have to fight the staircases all the way back to the storage closet.

It was irritatingly frustrating.  João wanted nothing more than to just march into Analiza's office and quit on the spot, but doing that, as good as it would feel, wouldn't help him with discovering more about Aileen Reid or her stolen artifacts.  Instead, he was stuck here in bitterly frozen England, working a pointless job for ridiculously low pay and dealing with acid-spitting mold on a daily basis.

One of the students, a young girl with dark hair, was sitting on a windowsill nearby - probably getting greasy prints all over the glass, João thought darkly, shooting her a nasty glare as he stopped dead in his tracks.   At least yelling at students presented a good way of venting his frustration. 

"What are you doing there?" he snapped at the girl, well beyond even trying to maintain a semblance of keeping his temper. "That windowsill is not for sitting!"

Megan knew that rumors spread fast around the halls of Hogwarts. The gossip about the mummy attacked seemed to be extensive even after the school reopened on Monday. Thankfully, other juicy rumors were floating around, mainly about Sasha. However, she knew that the gossipers of Hogwarts would never stay on one topic. Rather, they discussed a multitude of topics, which would probably include her.

With a short sigh, she shook her head. Clearly, she needed to stop thinking about those rumors that were plaguing her. She would just be playing into the gossiper's hands of letting the rumors take a hold of her. After all, wasn't that their plan? To infest their victims with enough self-doubt? But, she managed to have enough self-doubt of herself as it was, but she had to appear as if she was confident in herself.

Yes, that was exactly what she did when she first entered Hogwarts. Back as a first year, Megan managed to create a foothold into the magical community. Although it was true that she was still trying to fit in normally with her peers, she was in a much better position now than five years ago. While she could still be criticized, at least she potentially made a name for herself, while it was undoubtedly small in comparison to some of the other students at the school.

After reasoning with herself, the young Ravenclaw was about to get up from the window sill when she spotted a bloke glaring at her. She was taken aback by this apparent hatred of her already. When he yelled at her, she was even further startled, and fell from the window sill and onto the floor, thankfully that the window wasn't open at that time.

Quickly getting up, Megan dusted off her skirt. "I...But...I...wasn't...," she stammered, clearly not accustomed to being yelled at especially by a stranger. "I was just admiring the grounds," she responded after regaining her composure. It was partially true, but he didn't need to know that. She had no idea who this bloke was, or why he was at Hogwarts, but he didn't seem to be too happy to be there.

He had barely been at Hogwarts a week, and the student population already had him at the end of his wits.  João was convinced that it didn't matter who or what or where - any educational institute was ruined the instant anyone who wasn't a professional scholar set foot inside its hallowed halls.  The children that made up Hogwarts' population were so similar to those that he might find anywhere.  Some brazen, some timid - he'd actually managed to make a young Asian girl burst into tears just by glaring at her when she'd accidentally bumped into him in the hallway.

The only positive trait about students that he was willing to recognize was that they made a good target when he was frustrated.  Snapping at them gave him a way of venting without accidentally offending anyone who mattered.  The present girl seemed to be a perfect target.  After he had cut in at her, she'd literally fallen over and then jumped up, looking flustered and excusing herself.

"And the grounds are there for you to look at?" he demanded irritably, giving her a disdainful look.  He was about to attack her further, to point out that if she had so much free time that she felt able to spend it gazing out a window then perhaps she needed more experienced professors to better fill her leisure hours with more work, when something about her stopped him short.

He knew her.  But not because he'd ever seen her before, although he wouldn't doubt that he had - all of the endless, grubby faces in the Hogwarts halls blended together, even after just a few short days.  No, he knew her because he'd seen her before in a different context.  A picture.  In a newspaper.  Alongside an article.  Which he had very smugly clipped and sent to Analiza, if only to prove his point.

"Ah, I mean, of course they are there for you to look at."  This girl had been at the museum a week before.  João was sure of it; he peered at her face, taking note of her features.  Had the article mentioned her by name?  "Just not from the windowsill.  I do not have time to go about cleaning the glass every time there are fingerprints all over it," he continued, not bothering to stop himself from sounding sullen.  Having to explain himself to this girl was irritating, but he needed to know what she knew.  "But this time, since it is a first offense, perhaps I will excuse you.  Do you have a name?" he asked, looking the girl over sharply.

Despite being at Hogwarts for over four years now, the school continued to impress Megan. Perhaps it was her sudden introduction into the magical world that made the whole castle seem impressive to her. What ever the case, she was still intrigued by it. Even her sketchpad was full of drawings of the castle and the grounds, even though she likely did some spots repeatedly. Thus, it wasn't entirely unbelievable that she wanted to gaze out to the grounds below. Or, at least, that was what she thought anyway.

Looking at the bloke in front of her, Megan wondered who he was, and why he was at Hogwarts. Sure, the Professors at the school seemed to be replaced faster than she could blink, but she wasn't immediately aware if he was a Professor. For that matter, he could have important business at the castle. Nonetheless, most interactions in the castle didn't start off with someone yelling at a student, especially for something as frivolous as sitting on a window sill.

Megan frowned at his next irritable statement. This guy apparently didn't think the grounds should be looked at. She didn't immediately bite back at that ignorant comment, but let it hang in the air for a few moments. While she could attempt to argue with him, sometimes silence could be the best confusing element.

After she figured enough time passed, Megan opened her mouth to argue back. However, the bloke already spoke up again. This time, it wasn't an insult at her again. That was certainly a plus. Besides, that helped that she was no longer getting yelled at. When he stated about cleaning the glass, she finally understood that he had to be the Hogwarts Caretaker. She had never met their past one, but this new one seemed rather easy to find. For that matter, she had no idea if they even had a caretaker before.

Thinking that it wouldn't hurt to try to charm him, Megan glanced over at the window. "Oh, you're the one that cleaned the window? I must say you did a splendid job on it, it never looked cleaner!" she quipped. She was slightly taken aback by the lack of punishment. It appeared as if most of the newly hired Professors gave discipline out like they were hired to do just that! "I'm Megan Ruiz," she introduced herself to him, completely not realizing that he was trying to connect her to the Daily Prophet article.

The girl's praise sank into the dark abyss that was João's self-confidence.  Of course the window had never looked better.  He had cleaned it, and here he was, a renowned magical scholar who had published papers and traveled the world and taught at educational institutes in the Americas (although, admittedly, it was only one educational institute, and a rather poor one at that, as it often reminded him more of a Muggle commune than anything properly magical), reduced to cleaning windows and battling multi-eyed mold infestations.  Having the splendid job that he'd done pointed out to him only made him feel worse.  He'd have to talk to Analiza.  He couldn't go on like this for much longer.

He couldn't place the name, Megan Ruiz, but he hadn't paid much attention to the article beyond the description of the mummy attack and scouring it for any hint of the artifacts.  Upon closer examination, nothing about the girl seemed to indicate that she had recently survived an encounter with the undead - no festering bites, no lurching movements, and she hadn't even mentioned the word 'brains' yet - but it was clearly the same girl.

"And you are a student here?" he asked, peering at her.  "What year are you?  I have to say, Miss Ruiz, that you look very familiar.  You were not the one who was throwing dungbombs in the corridor yesterday, were you?" he asked sternly, eyeing her as if he were trying to place her face.

Megan looked over at the caretaker near her, thinking that her praise would help the situation. After all, wasn't the caretaker's job to clean? That clearly didn't give her the right to walk around Hogwarts to mess things up, and she normally didn't. But, she figured that he would be happy to see that at least someone noticed how well it looked and actually praised him. When she didn't detect any improvement in the way he was acting, she wondered if the praise did more harm than good. Perhaps it wasn't the best thing she could've done.

Glancing back over at the window, Megan was completely unaware of the caretaker looking her over. While she was aware of the Daily Prophet article, she didn't believe that the Professors of Hogwarts took much notice with it. The main problems with the rumors came from the other students, not the Professors. Well, that was what she thought anyway. So, she only assumed that the other staff members at the school, including the caretaker, didn't give the article any consideration.

At the caretaker's question, Megan nodded. It wouldn't been awkward to have some stranger come walk into Hogwarts and sit on the window sills after all. Someone would've noticed by then, right? "I'm a fifth year, Ravenclaw," she responded, trying to show that she was supposed to be at the school. Blushing, she shook her head. "No, I wasn't throwing any dungbombs," she calmly stated, not knowing how the caretaker could possibly know who she was.

"A Ravenclaw," Joao repeated, brows rising as he looked Miss Ruiz over again.  All of the houses here at Hogwarts had such nonsense names.  Of course ravens had claws, but it was hardly their most distinguished feature.  Founders or not, if he was in charge of the school, he would have chosen better ones.  "Then you must be well-mannered and studious.  But I feel as though..."

He snapped his fingers.  There was not a doubt in his mind that it was a foolproof act; he could appear taken with recognizing her and thus, through flattery, draw out of the girl what he needed to know.  She, after all, must have no idea of the importance of what she had seen.  But the dead rising from the grave unbidden.  Ancient mummies walking the earth once more.  That was what he needed, magic with the power to complete such a task.  Once he had it in hand, there would be no more scrubbing suits of armor or cleaning windows at this worthless school.

"You were in the newspaper, were you not?" he asked, smiling broadly as he looked her over.  He was certain that his expression looked friendly and amazed; perhaps he should add 'method actor' to his considerable list of skills.  "The other day.  Something about a Muggle...it was a museum, yes?  I think I saw the article.  You look much younger when you are not on camera."

After the caretaker repeated her house's name, Megan nodded to what he said. Yes, she was a Ravenclaw, despite some of her actions, like sitting on a window sill apparently. But, that was the house that she was sorted in, despite what others thought. She remembered, when first coming to the school four years ago, being completely confused with the sorting system. Thankfully, she was able to read up on it, and understood it.

When the caretaker talked next, Megan couldn't help but blush. Just a few moments ago, she was being reprimanded for being on the window sill, which was by far not matching with the well-mannered trait. While she didn't break the rules that much, she still had no problem doing so anyway. So, she was hoping that she wouldn't have to face the caretaker's wrath again about breaking the rules, especially now that he knew who she was.

Megan blushed even redder as he mentioned the Daily Prophet. 'Crap. He read the paper,' she thought to herself. Really, that shouldn't surprise her, given the fact that the students easily knew it, and he could've heard it from one of them. "Yes...I was," she responded hesitantly. She already knew that their conversation was about to go down hill fast. His smiling made her feel even more anxious as he looked her over. Definitely not a good sign. "I..um..yes,T-the British Museum," she conceded. She couldn't necessarily lie, but she could be vague about her answers.

Why the British Muggles needed to name an entire museum after their country, Joao would never quite understand.  It wasn't even as if everything inside it was British; nearly all the artifacts came from other cultures, including the Egyptian mummies that Aileen Reid had apparently enchanted back to life.

"Yes," he agreed, trying not to look as irritated as he felt about being fed the name of the Museum.  Of course he knew it; he had read about it in the paper.  "And there was a mummy attack!  You must have been..."  He paused, searching for the right word.  Not intrigued, which was how he would have felt if he'd encountered the living dead.  "Terrified?  Especially not knowing what caused something like that," he added, his dark eyes flicking over her.  "They just came to life, yes?  No one cast any spells on them?"