((OOC: After this one-two character thing I do for a plot point, any reactions are open and welcome!))

After much planning it was finally the time to act. At the other end of the Winter holidays there had been a secret meeting[1] between cloaked figures that began an experiment of sorts. Unlike a similar experiment of the defensive capabilities of runes[2] this one had malicious intent, if novel in the format.

The idea of magically modifying hair into a dangerous weapon. It sounded ludicrous, but if biting teacups could land people in St. Mungo's anything could be a secret weapon with the right magic behind it.

To condition to such a state was tricky. There was a potion at work, along with certain spells that could control the hair and shape it. After some trial and error the cloaked figures were ready to find testers. Testees, rather. Later tonight[3] the plan was to lure test subjects into the meeting place. Avialae was placating them with promises of money.

It was worth an independent test though. And that is what led to Casey entering the Great Hall under his invisibility cloak. By now his stealth under it approached its zenith. He watched where to be out of the way, so nobody ran into an invisible nothing. He occasionally used spells to muffle his footsteps or a Super Sensory charm to aid navigating his surroundings. His breathing was under control. At early times his ragged breath (being afflicted by the cold weather) had felt much too loud in his own head. He had learned to switch to controlled breathing through his nose, not too loud to create phantom sniffles passerby might hear.

The objective: test out this hair potion, the root of a ritual un-ironically named 'Death by Hair.' That is, one's hair taking deadly shapes and attacking another. Casey had a sample of the potion. Now, where to place it?

Being under an invisibility cloak like this tended to stroke the ego, increase the kinds of complexes that led wizards to believe they were warlocks, or warlocks that they were gods. That sense of being able to dictate the fate of others. All these students to pick from.

Casey's breath grew excited but controlled in its low register. Come now, a table. Hufflepuff, why not? Like an invisible ghost Casey drifted along the line. It should be a girl, the process of 'Death by Hair' only talked about its applications for women. Older student? Younger student? A pause, then a small wicked grin. Why not?

Hair was the only memorable thing about this girl in particular. Some at Hogwarts styled their hair with odd colors but no one else had hair in an inexplicable green polka dot pattern. She was a muggle born, wasn't she? Not that Casey frequently targeted the 'weak in magic' kind with muggle ancestry. It was a simple truth they would know nothing of magic until they came to school, so they would be far behind everyone else.

Why not?

Casey checked the surroundings, the body language of others. None were walking along the table at this moment. None looked like they would get up fro the bench. He waited a moment longer, contemplating the use of a distraction. But a moment soon came as the owl post began, the birds flying down with letters and packages. Everyone, including his choice of target, distracted, so that nobody noticed the small pouring of liquid that appeared from nowhere above a glass of pumpkin juice.

Once the deed was done Casey walked away as briskly as he dared, heart palpitating at the successful espionage, but still he kept his invisible travel silent. This potion, once complete, didn't react with anything else so putting it in the pumpkin juice was no issue. It would take effect soon after it was drunk. Maybe seconds, maybe minutes.

Casey crossed to the far end of the Great Hall, taking roost in the nook provided by a fireplace used for warmth, where he could still see the spotted figure at the Hufflepuff table. A spot to watch and wait.

1.	A crash course into the Báthory Maleficium - Nov 28
2.	look up the Casey and Alvis plot tag
3.	following thread, A Twist and a Turn

Obderedria was tucking into a plate loaded with bacon and eggs, contemplating about the first week with classes resumed. Already they had had an interesting potions lesson with some of the first years. It was an odd feeling, recognizing that just a year ago she had been in that same position of struggling through a Boil Cure Potion, trying to remember it for a test. And now she was a second year and to account for that--there was just a more complicated potion to struggle through. Though Helio had still been brewing the Boil Cure.

As she reached for a piece of toast she heard the hooting of owls above her. She looked up. You always heard the hooting of owls before the flapping of their wings. In fact, owls had feathers that made their flapping quiet, so they could dive in on prey unoticed. That was something Obderedria had learned in her primary years, before coming to Hogwarts, and she had small happiness in the fact that magical owls weren't too different from the ones she knew.

She knew her mum wouldn't be writing yet but she still looked up anyways. Obderedria had yet to be surprised by post at breakfast -- well, there had been the time she got pizza and butterbeer delivery, but she wasn't thinking about that[1] -- She only ever got mail from people she had first sent it to, like mum or the friendly Flumes that ran Honeydukes in the village. After watching some letters get dropped off along the table she turned back to her breakfast, taking a sip of her pumpkin juice.

After another bite she took another sip and drained her glass. She looked for the nearest jug to refill her cup but she suddenly felt hungrier than usual, the tempo of her fork hitting the plate increasing. The back of her neck itched. She worked a hand through her hair to scratch her neck as she chewed. Soon her plate was empty.

It was starting to feel warm in the Great Hall, as if she had put on a winter coat. Obderedria was starting to feel light headed, almost dizzy. It reminded her of the one and only time she had ever gotten an ice cream headache. She rubbed her forehead--and under her fingertips her hair felt like it was moving!

She looked down and gave a small little shriek akin to a sheep bleating. Along her uniform and down her arms, approaching the table, were strands of brown and green hair. Her hair, growing so fast and wide that the arrangements of almost circular spots where split stretched and squashed into various kinds of blotches. Two words came to mind.

"Not again!"[2]

1.	Take-Out Delivery - Oct 19
2.	This is not the only time Obderedria's hair has grown out of control. Actually, it was how she first found out about being a witch, as defined in her backstory and this Letter to Beverly journal entry

Juni had been groggily picking at her bacon—she was never a big eater during breakfast, though lunch and dinner were a completely different story. She finished her orange juice and picked up her bag, ready to go to the library to drop off some books that she had borrowed for both papers, and personal fun reading.  She threw the bookbag over her shoulder and shifted out of her seat. She was about to pass the tables when she—saw green and brown hair in the air? What? It was practically waving her over, and growing bigger.

The green and brown hair could only have belonged to a certain second year whose body Juni had swapped with earlier this school year. She’d recognize it anywhere.

“Not again!” Drea’s voice confirmed what Juni already knew.  She rushed over to the girl and waved her finger in Drea’s face.

“Calm down!” Juni exclaimed, “What did you do—oh, nevermind.” She stared at the hair as it grew and kept moving. “Just— Ugh. Come on, let’s go to the Hospital Hut. Tulojow should know how to fix--” Juni motioned towards the hair and it slapped her in the face.

“AH!”  She gave Obderedria an enraged look that quickly settled as soon as she reminded herself that whatever this was, probably was not the Hufflepuff’s fault. “Let’s just, just go. Before it slaps anybody else. Merlin, how do you attract this sort of thing?!”  First the body switching, and now this. Juni was beginning to regret getting into this, but she felt a sort of weird pity for the girl that she could't shake.

Just as her hair was getting much worse--tangling around several pieces of silverware, goblets, and her bookbag under the bench as a wide eyed looker-on was slapped across the face--Obderedria soon heard the voice of Juni Zamperia. Drea had literally been under her skin once.

"I didn't do anything!!" Obderedria shrieked, almost gagged by one overzealous lock of hair that she removed from her face just in time. "It's not St. Patrick's day, I didn't try dying my hair, it's not like when everyone laughed at me over the horrid hair cut at school--" she proceeded to ramble, lost in the childhood events when her magic had manifested to similar results.

The Hospital Hut sounded like a very sensible place to go had Obderedria not been panicking. She tried to look Juni in the eye and nod but her hair was obscuring her vision too and she had to part it away from her face constantly.

"Sorry!!" Obderedria said when Juni got slapped. She tried standing--found that her head snapped back from her hair momentarily gripping the bench--and found she had to gather bunches of it in order to walk. She reached out for Juni's guiding hand while more hair followed suit, twisting up the Ravenclaw's arm. Obderedria wished she could just teleport to the Hospital Hut now, or the barber's, and not be seen by anybody else the rest of the day.