Hogsmeade was simply aglow with the Christmas spirit. All along the snow strewn streets, windows were warm with candlelight and festooned with berry laden garlands dotted by sparkling icicles. In a few, there were silhouettes of Christmas trees already in the process of decorating and some shop windows, magically devoid of frost, had begun displaying various Yule related wares. Children too young for Hogwarts smashed their noses against the glass, chattering and giggling happily about the newest toys and candy on display. Their joy was infectious and Marc felt even his Grinchy heart warm at the prospect of the seasons bringing’s, though his joy had more to do with receiving than giving. Taking by force if necessary.

There had been a change of plans, though. Initially, Marc intended to trick some low-level mediwitch or wizard into retrieving the girl for him and then planned on whisking the girl off disguised as her brother. It dawned on him, after he had subdued his current alias in a muggle pub some days earlier, that this was all a bit… messy. Too many things could go wrong. It was best if he simply showed up, documents signed and notarized, and whisked the girl off himself. Hogwarts would assume she was being detained at Mungos, her family would assume she was at school and Mungos would be none the wiser. It would be a good month before anyone realized she was missing, and by then, he would have erased any tracks and trimmed any loose ends.

It helped that the identity he assumed was a well-respected head healer. No one had batted an eye when he asked for the day off or bothered to look into his excuse for going to Hogwarts, in fact, he was almost certain that no one even knew he was there. It was almost disconcerting how smoothly things had been going. This whole plan would be a right doddle if Kingstreet had prepared the papers properly, and he had no doubt that she had. It wasn't like Theodora to make mistakes. He just had to play Jason convincingly enough to get in good with the schools staff and with all the information he had tortured out of the man, he wasn't overly concerned.

Tugging the Jason's peacoat closer, Marc strolled up the walk towards the castle with the gait of a man who had not a care in the world. Shoving what was left of a limp dog ended cigarette between his lips, Marc's -- or rather Jason's -- features momentarilly glowed with warmth as he held a match between gloved hands and puffed out a few bursts of acrid smoke into the crisp winter air. As the looming castle, grey and forboding, grew closer, Marc paused to take in the view. There were few things in the world as beautiful as Hogwarts and the surrounding Scottish hills blanketed in snow. The last time he had seen it, he had been bound and surrounded by aurors escorting him off premises. Back then, he had wanted nothing more than to see that pristine snow dyed crimson and glowing from the massive bonfire that would be the remains of Hogwarts.

Actually... he still wanted to see that.

Arriving at the courtyard, Marc came to a rest outside the entrance and waited patiently, drawing deeply from what was left of the rancid cigarette. When the heat touched his lips, he pulled out the bud and smeared it into the eye of a nearby griffin statue. Where were they? He had owled ahead hours ago.

It turned out that recent Healer visits out of the claim that the Salem delegation was made up of students that didn't have proper Dragon Pox resistance had brought about a different kind of discovery. A Gryffindor student, Lucy Matthews, had been indicative of having a rare disease that required observation at St. Mungo's. During lunch, Sissel had been tasked with helping Lucy assemble a day bag, collect the last bits of her homework this week and see her off with the Healer coming to collect her before he had to teach his first year History of Magic class at 1PM. A class Lucy would miss.

"It'll probably be all right," Sissel tried to assure Lucy as they made their way to the entrance. "If you have caught something St. Mungo's is the better place to be. Actually, you'll get something of a little break from school. Minus the assignments you'll have in your absence, of course."

In retrospection, Sissel should have at least thrown on a cloak during the time Lucy was up in Gryffindor tower getting ready. His duty only required him to see her off the grounds, a brief time to spend outdoors, but in snowy weather it was frigid. Some snow that had collected on the front steps crunched under his shoes as he walked out.

Finishing a smoke in the corner of the courtyard was Jason Marren. Sissel could usually place a name and a face from his school days. Jason and he had graduated the same year but had never been part of the same cliques.

"What ho, Jason," Sissel greeted. "Heard you made Healer-in-Charge of a floor. Creature Injuries, isn't it? Must not have much business if they spared you for the escort."

Marc was just about to start up another cigarette, just to keep his fingers from freezing, when the door opened and a man stepped out.

"What ho, Jason, Heard you made Healer-in-Charge of a floor. Creature Injuries, isn't it? Must not have much business if they spared you for the escort."

Great. Of all the professors to greet him, it had to be one that knew his alias. It couldn't be one of the old codgers who had a hard time pairing their socks and cataracts the size of dinner plates, oh no, it had to be some new guy who probably read the fine print and double checked every angle.

Luckily for Marc, he recognized the face in front of him. Unlike some others in the conversation, Jowd's face hadn't changed much from his days in Hogwarts. Marc felt the stirrings of envy as he thought about how Jowd hadn't spent ten years in a dank, dark cell wasting away. Good food and a nice bed must be the secret to youth.

"Jowd" Marc said evenly, managing to keep a respectful level of friendliness in his tone. It was difficult considering how badly he wanted to peel off that youthful face of his. "... Volunteered, actually. Full moon isn't for another week or so and Lethifold attacks are down, so I figured I would help out with this mess." This line of bullshit seemed... acceptable. He kept himself from adding more, lest he appear rehearsed and blew into his hands instead, shivering "Bloody cold out here, innit? Mind if we step in?"

Lucy walked down from the castle, her bag on her shoulder, filled with her homework, a clean pair of jeans, a tee-shirt or two, and her trainers. The professor had told her to gather her things, and that she was going to St. Mungo's. They said that she was sick. She felt fine. No sniffles or even a cough. Then again,  this was the magical world. Knowing the way this place worked, some little magic thingie probably didn't fire off right inside her, and that was her symptom. She didn't care though. It meant that she'd get to miss class, and that'd be nice for a change.

Lucy was liking Hogwarts. She hadn't found her group of friends just yet, but she liked the school. It was fun, and she loved the whole broomstick idea. It was like all the old rumors about witches, potions, and brooms were true. But people weren't evil like they were in the story.

Except Professor Storm. That man was evil, with the amount of work he gave.

Professor Jowd wanted to talk. Lucy, however, really didn't care. "Yeah, no, I bet I'm fine." She said, before rethinking her response. Maybe it was something. Something less than good. But the professor was right. St. Mungo's was the best place she could be.

As they approached, she saw a man come into view. No one she knew, but someone from St. Mungo's. And, Professor Jowd knew the man. Great. So she'd have to stand here, as they caught up and gossiped. She just wanted to leave, go to St. Mungo's, and get this all over with. What she was most excited about was missing History of Magic. She hated that class, thought it was pointless.

Lucy stood there, silently, clutching her sweatshirt closer to herself. She didn't want to wear her uniform there, and opted with the sweatshirt and jeans look, like she was going right back to the muggle world. She was more comfortable in this, rather than the uniforms they made the students wear.

"Really?" Sissel asked when Jason asked to go inside. "That seems counter productive. But you must be cold from waiting." Lucy's rolled eyes were not missed, which funnily enough when Sissel had been a student her age and a more impulsive chap...he was arguably less impulsive as an adult...he would have had the same grumbles at having to wait for something you didn't want to do anyways. But that was the gift of age, you could pass on the annoyance to the next generation so they would appreciate the opportunity when they got older.

Their partial retreat opened and closed the massive doors of the entrance again. "Though I suppose Lucy here shouldn't get too cold. What is making her ill, anyways? All I know was that it's not exactly Dragon Pox."

"Really? That seems counter productive. But you must be cold from waiting."

The comment was ambiguous enough, but it bugged him. Jowd was a smart bloke, he always had been, and Marc knew that if he tripped up, even a little, the former unspeakable would catch on. He had to tread lightly and get out of there quickly. "Yeah, a bit..." he shrugged and smiled nonchalantly, weighing his options. There was a knife in his jacket pocket that, if he felt any need for it, could be summoned in seconds.

"Though I suppose Lucy here shouldn't get too cold."

They stepped just inside the doors so that the chilling wind was abruptly cut off and Marc moved a bit closer to Sissel. Despite being deceptively relaxed, every muscle in his body was tensed for a fight. All he needed was a single indication that Sissel suspected him as anything other than Jason Marren, friendly, respectable Head Healer of the first floor, and he would cut his throat. It'd be easy. He would be dead before Lucy could scream.

"What is making her ill, anyways? All I know was that it's not exactly Dragon Pox."

Another probing, bordering on suspicious, question. His fingers itched for the feel of the handle. "Take a look for yourself..." He said, handing the papers to Jowd as he turned towards the girl behind him. Tugging at his pants, he crouched down to her level and met her dark hazel eyes with Jason's bright blue ones. His intense gaze was disguised with concern as he looked her over. "They say it could be a new strain of scrofungulus... I think its a bit too early to be sure, but diseases aren't my specialty." He gave her a small grin, as if they were sharing a secret that her professor wasn't in on.

Standing back up, he turned his attention back to Sissel "... She looks pretty healthy to me... So I am sure it is either nothing or they caught whatever it is early on. But like I said... Diseases aren't my specialty." He tapped the papers in Sissels hands "... If the healers on the second floor think it is something else, I trust them. And so should you."

Giving Sissel what he hoped amounted to a reassuring smile, he clapped the bloke a bit too hard on the shoulder and turned back to Lucy. "Are you ready, lass? This all will be over before you know it... I promise."

Lucy rolled her eyes at the man, as he handed over the papers, and then crouched down to her. He was speaking to her like she was six. Six! She's not six, she can understand medical issues. As he flashed a smile, she flashed a closed lip one, seething with distaste. She didn't like this guy. He was just like every other adult. He felt more in charge, more powerful. And if there was one thing Lucy hated, it was feeling lesser than someone else.

She looked up at Sissel with obvious boredom. This was so stupid. She was probably fine! She didn't feel sick! She couldn't just go down to the hospital wing to get checked out, oh no, she needs to go all the way to St. Mungo's, just to get the okay that she's fine.

"Are you ready, lass? This all will be over before you know it... I promise."

Lucy smiled the smile that showed such attitude, as she said, "Yeah, I guess. Let's just get this over with."

Being out of action from TTI for so long, now that he was settled into cushy teaching job, Sissel had lost some of his battle honed senses of danger. Vibes if you will, or gut instincts, not really Divination just being receptive of body language. It had been so long since he had last seen or interacted with Jason Marren that Sissel didn't recognize the man in front of him as a falsehood.

Sissel gave out a low whistle at the stack of papers Jason handed him. Sissel had never before believed he would find any document more complex than a time travel permit, short of anything written in runes that he didn't know much about, but these medical notes took the cake. Cramped handwritten latinese and diagrams.

"Scrofungulus, huh? That's like a fungal infection that starts in the throat and spreads throughout the digestive tract?" He glanced to Lucy. "Looks like it might spread quickly too. You might too much for Tulo to handle at that time, if she has to lock you up in the cottage attic or however she handles isolated cases in the Hospital Hut."

Though he could tell Lucy was disinterested in everything, being peevish on going even if she didn't believe she was sick. He wondered if that was how she responded to everything she didn't know or unnerved her, being disinterested in everything. But the notion was folded back into the layers of his mind.

Buckling somewhat to Jason's clap, Sissel also responded to Lucy's prompt with chipperness. "Once the infection gets to the contagious phase you'd been singing a different tune of the fungal growth didn't prevent that. Got everything you need in your bag?" He asked Lucy.

"Our copy to keep, right?" He held up the papers Jason had handed him.

"Yeah, I guess. Let's just get this over with."

What a little shit. Marc knew a good box about the head or even a quick unforgivable would put her in her place, but managed to hold himself back when he remembered that he was Jason Marren and Jason probably didn't smack little kids. Instead, a sharp look crossed his face for a mere second, promising pain and misery if she didn't shut her mouth. Replacing it quickly with a cool, unfazed smile, Jason turned back to Sissel, who was chattering about the illness with a surprisingly chipper tone. Perhaps he was being strong for Lucy.... or perhaps he was eager to see her leave. With that attitude, he wouldn't be surprised if it was the latter.

"Our copy to keep, right?"

"Of course... I trust that you will make sure they get to the right filing cabinet then?" Marc replied without missing a beat. He was more than willing to leave that bit up to Sissel since he really didn't want to deal with more witnesses or the perpetual state of chaos that filing cabinets always tended to live in. Besides, when things were finally revealed, Jowd would probably get a good deal of the blame. School officials were always the ones the parents came after first.

Reaching down, Marc hoisted Lucy's bag over his shoulder "I had better get the lass to Mungos right away. I appreciate your assistance, Sissel. If you would like to send her bookwork and letters to my office, I will make sure she receives them and promptly responds." He gave her an evil smile that promised that she would indeed be doing her homework despite being bedridden "... Can't have her getting behind on her studies, can we?" Then with a jerk of his head towards the general direction of Hogsmeade, Marc added "Trains waiting, lass... We'd best head off."

"Scrofungulus, huh? That's like a fungal infection that starts in the throat and spreads throughout the digestive tract?"

A fungal infection? In her throat? Lucy tensed up for a moment, before relaxing. It was probably nothing. Everything was probably fine, and they were all just having a good laugh. Lucy looked up at the two men, as they continued to chat about her supposed illness. If it was a real infection, she would have began to feel it, right? But now, as she started to think it over, she did have a slight cough the other day.

Maybe, just maybe, there was truth to the illness.

Got everything you need in your bag?"

Lucy nodded. "Yeah, I guess so. Everything I think is important." She responded, with a roll of her eyes. He was acting like some big and important adult. Really, he was acting like a teacher. But Lucy didn't like to think of him as a teacher. More as just a guy who got some weird title that meant he had power over those younger than him.

I will make sure she receives them and promptly responds."

Lucy raised one eyebrow, and put on a sly smile. "Yes, of course. Definitely will do my work." She lied, knowing it was somewhat showing. She didn't care if Sissel knew she wasn't going to do it. She never did it anyway. Or, well, until she had to do it, when grades started counting.

Trains waiting, lass... We'd best head off."

"Yeah, whatever." She said, crossing her arms, as she nodded her head to Sissel. "I guess I'll see you later than, Professor." She didn't know what to say to him. She didn't do goodbyes, and she wasn't too fond of the professor. So, she settled with the "see you later" method.

As Lucy left Sissel's earshot, she spoke to Donnelly: "I'm just letting you know, I probably won't be doing my work. If this is as bad as you all make it out to be, I'm not going to do anything, but have people wait on me hand and foot." She challenged the illness, still fighting the thought that she could be sick with something deadly.

"Sounds like everything has been thought out," Sissel said of the lengths Jason had taken to accommodate Lucy. Having one particular office to owl the homework to was helpful, even if Marren wasn't on the same floor as where Lucy would end up in her observation.

"Well, nothing to do but wait until she gets better. Hopefully she'll be fine and healthy before the term is over. She wouldn't want to miss her holiday."

As Lucy had everything and Jason needed to stay on schedule, Sissel saw fit to watch them head off. It arguably wasn't that cold, nothing the hands in the armpits trick couldn't warm up. So he could watch them head off towards the village until they were out of sight. By the time he thought of an offer like a carriage or a broomstick that might better convenience them they were too far off to hear.

"Well, nothing to do but wait until she gets better. Hopefully she'll be fine and healthy before the term is over. She wouldn't want to miss her holiday."

"Oh don't worry, mate... You'll get her back..." Maybe not in one piece... he added internally, glancing at the smirking child out of the corner of his eye. The mouth on this brat was making Marc reconsider his agreement to keep her alive and well. Alive, sure, but it wouldn't be an enjoyable life if he had anything to do with it. Luckily for her, Marc wasn't the one running the show and he preferred not finding out what Kingstreet's bad side looked like. The little shits brother did and look what was about to happen to her.

"Well, all seems to be in order... Good to see you again, Jowd." He said, struggling to keep his contempt for the man from seething over into his friendly tone. Pushing the girl gently towards the general direction of Hogsmeade, he gave one last nod to Sissel, "We'll be off then... Come on lass."

As the castle and Jowd faded behind them, Marc's pleasant smile followed suit. By the time they got to the gate, his smile had become a scowl with a soggy cigarette hanging from it and his eyes had already begun to fade from a bright blue to a sickly green.
When Lucy spoke, regaling him pointedly of her plans to not do a damn thing, he just snorted. Kid would be lucky if she got to use a toilet that wasn't a rusty pot in the corner, let alone be waited on hand and foot. He just smirked at this and said "Oh... I think homework will the least of your problems." Opening the gate, he tugged her through with perhaps a bit more force than necessary. "Prepare yourself, lass, this won't be particularly comfortable."

With that, they popped out of existence and reappeared not in St. Mungos but in a small, dilapidated house hidden in the Irish countryside. "Home sweet home." he sneered, sending her tumbling towards a threadbare mattress adorned with a rat chewed blanket. Her new bed for now. "Make yourself comfortable. You're gonna be here a while."

Lucy was roughly pushed on to the so called bed. She wasn't exactly a picky person. Growing up in the Matthews house, you couldn't exactly be picky. But this, this wasn't okay! Not in the slightest! The room was dingy and reeked of mice, a smell she was far too used to for an 11 year old girl to be. Lucy stood back up, and folded her arms.

The walls were falling apart, the paint literally peeling off the walls. The top corners were covered in, was that mold? Yup. Some water had leaked through and sprouted a lovely haven of mold. She looked around with obvious disgust, as she spied the dirty windows. Lucy looked up at Marc. "Is this some kind of sick joke to you? I'm ill! That means you need to bring me to St. Mungo's!" She looked around again. Maybe this was just a joke. Maybe this was the entrance to St. Mungo's? Lucy didn't know.

She looked back up at the man, looking at his eyes. "Wait a minute," She said. tilting her head. "Your eyes used to be blue. A piercing and ugly blue. But they're green now." She just stared at him, trying to distract him. Lucy then started running out of the door, into a smaller room, where she saw a door to the outside world. If she made it out, she could call for help, get attention or something like that. She could get out of this! Lucy charged at the door, opening it, and flinging herself out...

...And back into the sad excuse of a bedroom. "Wha-" She questioned, turning around. It was the same room. With the sad looking bed, and the mold infested walls. So, she tried again. Lucy ran out of the room, into the other room, and through the front door. All the way back into the bedroom. She started to breathe quickly. "What's going on? I want to know." Lucy looked around. The horror was all too real. "WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?" She yelled, the curse word meaning nothing right now. It was alright to swear if you had a reason to swear, her brother always said. She could feel tears form, but blinked them away. If there was one thing Lucy was going to be, she was going to be strong.

er... rated M now for language >>

---

She shouted, she cursed, she ran in and out of the door and reappeared back in the room each time. Marc just stood there, silent, smoking his cigarette with a broad smirk of amusement as she frantically tried to escape. It wasn't going to work. His mother had made sure of that long ago, back when this was primarily his childhood home and secondly a torture chamber for deserters, snitches and the like. He puffed on his cigarette, blowing a few lopsided rings, before saying with a laugh, "What are you on about lass? This room has character... and quite an interesting history. My mum called it her 'interrogation' room, hence the revolving door charm."

He begin to walk towards the bed, touching the wall in the enthralled way a man might study millennia old cave paintings. If she looked closely, she would see old bloodstains soaked into the plaster behind the peeling wallpaper. He smiled fondly. "Many men were broken in this room. Some lived... some didn't. Spent many a punishment here myself, in fact..." He mused, mostly to himself. When he turned back to her, his face was in mid-transformation, slowly rippling as it broke down Jason's countenance and replaced it with his own. It felt nice to be back in his own body.

Dropping the cigarette, he crushed it with the toe of his boot and dropped her bag on the table. Opening it, he begin to toss stuff out onto the bed with little care. It was mostly clothes and school books, all obviously second hand. It was unlikely he would find anything dangerous, but there was a part of him that enjoyed the knowledge he was destroying what little she had. So he ripped into the lining of the bag until it was in shambles and was rewarded with a small, worn butterfly knife. "Ah. Ah. Ahh... Can't be weilding one of these at St. Mungos..." He chuckled, as if he had found a candybar in a kids sock drawer at fat camp. With a flick of his wrist, he snapped out the blade and twirled it with the the effortless grace of an expert.

Then, without warning, he struck with surprising speed. Grasping her long, dark hair in one hand, he sheared off a chunk with a quick jerk of the blade. "I'll be needing this for later..." He sneered and then paused, realizing that sounded somewhat creepy. Well, creepy in a different way. He quickly added, "... I mean, how else is your brother going to know that I have you?" With his hand firmly tangled in her hair, he pressed the knife against her hand at first "... A finger maybe?..." He moved it to her cheek, trailing it to the corner of her eye "... Or an eye perhaps? No? How about your tongue then? No one would miss that, I promise you..."

This was just getting creepy. The way he talked about the blood-stained walls, the way his face deformed into someone else. A hand went to her mouth. She felt like she was going to be sick. His face bubbled in away, changing slowly, into another man's face. A man's face who had seen too much. Who had heard to much. Who had done too much. And that was what had scared Lucy the most.

He started to rifle through her bag, and she wanted to say something. She wanted to do something. But she couldn't. All Lucy could do is stand there, as she tried to sort out what was going on. A man took her from school, to an abandoned house, changed in to someone else; it was all too much for her to wrap her head around. She didn't understand what polyjuice was, and so that's what bothered her the most.

Marc tore apart her bag, and Lucy just stood there, watching the horror unfold. It didn't occur to her that her bag was ruined. She was just so mystified by the man with the changing face. Could every magic person change their face? Could she change her face now that she was magical?

She finally snapped back into reality when he pulled out her knife. "That's mine. Not yours. You should know not to touch what's not yours." She snapped. That was the one thing she was sensitive about. The butterfly knife was given to her by Devlin, before he left the house. It was his, but he gave it to her incase Douglas ever decided to get violent. She knew how to use it. Only, she had never used it on a human. Once she cut her hair with it, but mostly, she'd use it around the apartment. Need to open that box? She'd use her knife. Lucy carried it on her person always, in case she ever needed to defend herself.

The way he wielded it was amazing, clearly he had mastered the knife before. Marc sprang like a cobra cutting off a chunk of her hair, and Lucy squeaked, trying to get away. But he was too fast, and now, he had a clump of her hair. One section was now much shorter than the rest of it. Usually, she didn't care about her hair. But cutting it, and cutting off a clump of that size, that was just not okay! Not by any standards!

"... I mean, how else is your brother going to know that I have you?"

"Wait, what?" She asked. "Devlin's involved? I don't know what you think he did, but if he says he didn't do it, he didn't do it. No need to drag me into this." Lucy got quite defensive when Devlin came involved. He was Devlin, and she was Lucy. He was always there for her, and now, she had an opportunity to be there for him. She had to take it.

He started to move the knife around, one of his hands nestled in her hair. Lucy closed her eyes tightly, as she felt a single tear slide down her face. Was, was she crying? No. She was tough. But at the time, she was frightened. "P-please." She muttered, her whole body trembling. He could kill her right now. And he would like to. "Please, just, just don't kill me. Please." She added, as she looked up at him, her eyes swimming, praying the little girl look would save her.