Early in the morning, an owl flies to the Ravenclaw table and drops off a small, unmarked package in front of Sasha Schlagenweit. If one listens closely, a faint rustling of wings can be heard from within.

Upon opening it, half of a snitch flutters out, flying up and then falling back to the table again. A card in the shape of half a heart can also be found, and on the back of it, these words appear:

Dear Valentine,

No studying for you today! At least not this morning. But don't panic! This is going to be fun! I promise. Just follow the clues and I'll see you soon! (As in tomorrow. For sure.)

Happy Early Valentine's Day,
~!

[1]

1.	OOC Note: Abby's not in the castle. I'm just posting her clues from Abby's account .

Before the owl's arrival, Sasha had had no reason to approach this Saturday any differently than most that had come before.  He was supposed to meet Jacoba and some new friend of hers in Hogsmeade later that afternoon, but that was still several hours away.  Somewhere around mid-morning, he'd taken his usual break from studying and wandered down to the Great Hall to grab a quick bite before returning to the books.

Halfway through the bowl of porridge and fruit, the Ravenclaw glanced up at a wide-eyed, slightly bored looking owl standing there, shoving a small package towards him.  He took the parsel from the bird and opened it, ignoring the hoot of disappointment as the owl realized Sasha had nothing of interest to offer it as reward. 

A broad grin grew across the Ravenclaw's face as the snitch half-fell and half-limped on the table, followed by a note.  He skimmed the note, first, making a quick grab for the snitch before it fluttered off the edge of the table. 

"I- what?  I don't panic," Sasha responded, as if Abby were sitting there across from him, chiding him for working too hard.  He cast his confused-looking neighbor a sheepish grin before turning back to read the note a second time, more thoroughly.  He didn't, really, expect to find Abby spying on him from a corner, giggling uncontrollably, but he couldn't resist half rising from his seat to scan the Great Hall, anyway.  His gaze settled, briefly, on the staff table, looking for any indication that Professors Trishna or Reid knew anything about this. 

Probably not, though.  Did Professor Reid still think they just seeing each other as friends?  Had Abby said anything since Christmas? 

Blushing, Sasha quickly dropped back down on the bench and read the note a third time.  He read the front, then the back and then the front again before shoving the thoroughly forgotten porridge to the side.  "I ... excuse me ... nevermind."  Sasha cast his neighbor a parting grimace before slinging his bag over his shoulder and heading out through the rain towards the Quidditch pitch. 

In the locker room near the Quidditch Pitch, rain patters on the roof and streaks the windows. The air is thick with the smell of damp earth and old sneakers. Somewhere, a tiny wing beats against tin, trying to escape out the narrow slits of the locker.

The padlock on the locker looks like any other at first glance. But on closer inspection, the dial is pointed toward a strange sign

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These numbers follow the sign on the padlock:

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, and 9

The Ravenclaw's boots were drenched by the time he walked out into the center of the pitch.  The weather had chased most reasonable individuals inside and the stadium was almost empty.  Chances were, only Madam Hooch was likely to be about in this weather.  Sasha stopped in the center of the field and brushed the hood of his coat back, peering up into the rainy sky.  He had no idea if a half-snitch could fly but it was hard enough finding a whole one in weather like this, let alone a snitch half its normal size. 

Squinting against the falling rain, Sasha tried to scan the sky but it was pointless.  All he could see were the fuzzy outline of raindrops just before they landed on his lashes and in his eyes.  Was it up there?  He was a Seeker and Abby knew that.  Sasha glanced down at the limping snitch in his hand and arched an eyebrow at it.  "Can you feel your other half?" Sasha asked it.  It was worth a shot.  Sasha turned and started across the field to the team locker rooms, intent on fetching his broom and letting the half snitch go and following it.  He was hoping it'd flutter off to find it's other half.  Or, it'd just fall to the ground, unable to fly.  Then, at least, he'd know it wasn't flying. 

He heard the soft fluttering just as he'd reached for the lock on his own locker.  The faint humming and clinks off to his left and, carefully, followed the sound to the source.  The snitch in his hand fluttered, excitedly, and Sasha had to close his fingers more tightly around it.  He lifted the lock with the other, spotted the note and scowled at it. 

Sasha glanced over his shoulder.  The locker room was, indeed, otherwise empty.  He turned back to the lock and chewed his lip.  "Less than one through ten?  Zero?  Say zero?  Negative numbers?  Turn the dial backwards?"  Slipping his half snitch in his pocket, he picked up the lock and, turned the dial, counterclockwise, pausing on 9 then 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, and finally one. 

"Nope! Too clever!" The padlock spoke to him in the peppy voice that only padlocks can have.

"Pick a number, any number. But only one number will do."

It paused.

"All you need is - how does that song go? From the Beatniks - no, the Beatles! That's it. Don't worry. You don't have to sing it. Just solve the lock. It's easy! All you need is..."

The lock starts to hum the tune.

"I, oh!  Sorry!"  Sasha flinched and pulled back as the lock spoke.  Really, he should have been expecting that and, even if he wasn't, even he had to question why he was apologize to a lock!  The Ravenclaw quickly glanced around, again grateful no one was there to witness before turning back towards the lock. 

"Pick a number?"  That clue made sense but, as the lock started to hum Lennon, Sasha stared at it in confusion.  "Love?  But, love isn't a number.  I ... there's nothing you can do that can't be done-"  Quietly, feeling just a little self conscious, Sasha quickly sang through the song.  But, as he reached the end, he shook his head.  There was no number in the song. 

"That song has nothing to do with the clue, does it?" Sasha asked the lock.  Which, hadn't the lock said he didn't need to sing it?  Was that ... was Abby flirting through an enchanted lock?  Sasha froze as a blush rose in his cheeks but, then, giggled, quietly, slapping a hand over his mouth before glancing over his shoulder, again. 

For the first time that he could remember, Sasha was incredibly grateful electronics, especially video cameras, didn't work at Hogwarts.

"One is the loneliest number-" Sasha started to sing before shaking his head.  Okay, okay.  Songs probably had nothing to do with it.  Pick a number.  "A number less than all of those numbers?  Okay.  They add up to forty-two.  So, negative forty-three?  No.  Negative one is less than forty-two.  So...Negative one.  No.  Zero.  Zero!" 

"I ... excuse me, sorry!"  Sasha muttered as he reached for the lock and turned it to zero. 

"Eep!" The lock jumped very slightly in Sasha's hands.

"It's ok. I had to stop singing sometime. Still locked, though."

The lock made a hmmmmm sound.

"Zero, huh? Zero is lovely. But it's very round, isn't it? Not that I have room to talk - I'm round myself!" It chuckled.

"You're thinking in numbers, Sasha. What if they aren't numbers? Or what if they are, but together with the sign they make something else?"

"Something about..." The lock started humming the love song again, then stopped. It paused, then made a cute little noise like you might hear from a mobile phone upon receiving a text.

Beep! Beep!

Despite chiding himself about it early, Sasha muttered another apology as the lock fidgeted in his hands.  Was the lock...had Abby made the lock ticklish? 

Wait.  No.  She couldn't have. 

Had Abby found someone to make the lock ticklish?  Someone else knew this was going on?  Who...it had to be Professor Reid, yes?  But, no.  She didn't know.  Someone at the Ministry?  Johann?  Someone Jacoba knew?  All speculation that did nothing to help him solve this particular riddle.

"But!  You said pick a number!  Maybe I should fill you with imaginary wine like a talking skull," Sasha murmured aloud. 

Okay.  He was thinking in numbers (no surprise) but they weren't numbers.  So, they were letters.  Letters less than numbers.  Letters below numbers.  Alphanumeric nine digit key pads?  Sasha closed his eyes, trying to picture a nine digit phone display.  Usually the number one didn't correspond with a letter.  Two could be A, B,  or C.  Three was D, E or F and so on.  Was he supposed to guess the word?  Was this a jumble puzzle?

Sasha sat down on the bench, pursing his lips as he considered the lock.  "Be Glor...ty?"  No.  That made no sense.  "Afi..."  No.  "Be glosty?" 

But, no.  Obviously the song was a clue.  Love.  All you need is love.  On a keypad love was 5683.  But, that wasn't less than any of the first nine integers.  But, he really wasn't anywhere nearer to working those two clues together.  With a shrug, he got up and dialed 5 - 6 - 8 - 3 on the lock. 

For a moment, the lock seemed stumped by Sasha's cleverness. It got quiet. No beeping, no singing. No unlocking, either.

Then it said very fast, "Nope, nope, nope, yes!"

"Three?"  Sasha blinked and stared at the lock.  "Negative three?  Or, no.  Song.  Beatles.  The third Beatle?"  Which was the third Beatle?  Well, Lennon and McCartney were probably one and two.  Ringo...everyone seems to forget Ringo nowadays.  So...was Harrison?  "George Harrison?"  Sasha asked, the confused and uncertain look on his face evidence that he had no confidence in his answer. 

Sasha's face scrunched in thought as he stared at the lock.  A Lennon song.  Numbers that weren't numbers.  Letters that made no sense.  And a mathematical sign that could indicate any integer below one.  And, somehow, a cell phone ringtone factored into all of this. 

He sat in silent thought, his brain trying to find a way to mesh all the seemingly random clues together when he blinked and stood up straight.  Pick a number.  Pick one of those numbers?  Was it ... ohhh. 

Sasha snorted a laugh and shook his head.  When had Abby ever seen him use anything but complete, grammatically correct sentences in a text?  Let alone emoticons!  But, then, she'd been using them ever since she discovered them.  With a deep sigh, Sasha reached out and turned the lock to three. 

"The foolish little heart thing."  It was foolish and goofy.  But, he was grinning from ear to ear. 

When Sasha turned the dial to three, the padlock hummed a snippet of a song, and fell unlocked.

The locker rattled. As soon as the locker door opened, the two halves of the snitch zoomed to lock together, and then floated up! High over Sasha's head. The repaired snitch fluttered past the benches, dove under the crack in the locker room door, and out into the sky.

There it waited, hovering over the Quidditch Pitch. One would need a broom or a beanstalk to reach it now.

After that brainteaser, even for someone as emotional reserved as Sasha, it was hard not to share in the triumph of the little lock's tune of victory.  After an exuberant "Jawohl!" and fist raised in victory (a response only possible due to the lack of observers), Sasha tugged the lock off the locker and pulled the door open.  He took a step back and watched as the two snitch halves found each other and flittered outside. 

Since Sasha wasn't in the habit of carrying beanstalks with him to the Great Hall, it was back to Plan A. 

Having completely forgotten about homework and studying, Sasha finally took his broom from his locker, tightened his coat around him and started towards the door.  He'd just reached for the handle when a quiet and much less peppy voice spoke up behind him. 

"I thought we had a thing going.  But, now you got what you came for and I'm forgotten?  Really." 

Sasha paused and looked back behind him, staring at the lock.  "I'm ... I'm sorry," he said, suddenly feeling foolish again for apologizing to the hunk of metal.  Rolling his eyes, he returned to scoop up the lock before heading back out into the rain.  "You know, I won't be able to talk to you when others are around." 

Lock carefully stowed in his pocket, Sasha mounted his broom and took off after the snitch.  He couldn't know for sure without taking his attention off his search but he thought he spotted shadows below of a few students finally making their way to the pitch.  The newly-reunited snitch was hovering in the center of the field.  Sasha leaned over his broom and hurried towards it, reaching out to grab it before it had a chance to flutter off.

The snitch greatly enjoyed its sudden freedom, stretching its wings as it sailed on the wind, careening from one end of the pitch to the other. Whenever the seeker flew close, it’d duck around a goal post or buzz around the back of his head, the flutter of wings like a soft laugh.

The padlock shouted encouragement to Sasha, despite its lack of Quidditch knowledge and eyesight. It’d say things like “Ooo, look! Look at those storm clouds! Way over there! Can’t see them, but I can feel the rust forming!” and “Wee! Let’s do the loop de loop!” and “When does this ride stop?”

As the rain began to pour harder, the snitch shook its wings and turned, veering off the pitch entirely. It zoomed toward a muddy patch of earth and then up again, hovering over it. There it remained, meandering in circles and flitting gently away from the seeker’s grasp. When it was caught, it curled up and rested in Sasha's palm.

A few seconds later, it tugged the seeker lightly downward.

Below in the half-frozen mud, shapes had formed. Two hearts, one smaller and one larger, with an arrow cutting through them. From a distance it looked like the hearts were formed by stomping or blasting at the mud. But if one flew a bit closer, the marks resembled hoof prints.

One might also notice that the arrow pointed toward the edge of the grounds where the paddocks stood.

Sasha was drenched and quite grateful Abby couldn't actually see him in his current state.  He probably looked a complete mess - the rain had long since washed the gel from his hair by now.  Balancing easily on the broom, Sasha ran his free hand through his hair while gently enclosing the snitch with the other. 

The snitch started to feel heavier in his hand and, ignoring the commentary from the metal peanut gallery in his pocket, Sasha followed.  It was a few moments before the Ravenclaw spotted the pattern in the ground below.  Despite the relentless rain, he grinned at the pattern.  A remarkable amount of effort had been put into this  and Sasha was thrilled.  And touched.  And, really really hoping he was correct in guessing this was Abby's doing.  If it wasn't...well...he'd cross that bridge when he got to it. 

Hopefully, no stuffed unicorns were involved.  Unless, of course, this was Abby's doing.  In which case, he'd be alright with a stuffed unicorn. 

"Are we in a traffic jam?" said a now surprisingly familiar voice from his pocket. 

With a sigh, Sasha sped back to the locker room, stowed his broom and started across the soggy grass towards the paddocks.  The mustang mare was, smartly, hiding from the weather inside the lean to but a drenched Gelar trotted out to meet Sasha at the far end of the paddock.  Sasha patted the animal's shoulder as he walked across the pasture, Gelar nibbling at his pockets as he followed.

On top of one of the paddock posts sat an apple. An ordinary apple, except for the fact that the rain parted around it, keeping it dry.

If one lifted up the apple, numbers floated into the air, glowing and shimmering in the rain:

821.

“Brr!” One said.

“It’s cold!” said the other.

“Wet and windy,” whinged the last.

The dot lacked a mouth to speak with, but wiggled energetically to make its point.

“Waaah wah wah!” The lock scoffed from inside of Sasha’s pocket. “I’ve been rusting for thirty minutes!”

Wherever Sasha went, the numbers followed, clustering underneath his collar and keeping up a steady stream of complaints – unless he happened to step closer to the shelter. Then they quieted down. Step away from the shelter, and they’d start up again. Toward it, and blissful silence.

Inside the shelter, within the little storage area, a rainproof jacket had been set out. There was a red bow wrapped around it, and a note tied to the bow. The note was folded like a book, with bold, bubbly letters scrawled across the cover:

HELLO SCHLAWKWARD

Inside, it read:

It’s raining, it’s pouring
Your housemates are still snoring
Not that I blame them!

The next two clues
Are scattered around the lean-to
Good luck!