Wednesday 31 March 2010
6:30am
The day after a full moon.  The thread begins with a small band trudging.

It was foul weather.  Just barely above freezing with a wet drizzle-mist slowly accumulating on their clothes.  The small bundling party was walking their way in the just-dawning light to the main gates of Hogwarts castle.  On each of their backs were bound bundles of sprigs and thin tree branches from a rowan tree.  The leaves were drying and on some branches, bunches of shriveled berries remained intact.

Their leader, Branwen Strangely, seemed to have no idea of the early hour and miserable weather.  She brightly raised her voice to review their days task.

"You've been excused from your first classes this morning, but don't thank me just yet! We could very well be at this for hours.  We could just Apparate back and forth but a few of you aren't yet trained and those of us who are know better than to play about on the edge of an Apparition-free zone! Never know if you're in or out until you've left a limb behind."

She rubbed her gloved hands together and adjusted the thick knit scarf wrapped around her face.  "You're not cold are you? If you walk more quickly that should improve things. And a smile as well - keep the Dementors at bay.  Oh don't worry now.  None have come so far as the castle yet.  Just Hogsmeade."

"This rowan, it's a proved deterrent for aberrant creatures like Dementors.  Can't stand the stuff.  It's no substitute for a good Patronus Charm of course.  You couldn't go waving twigs of this around and expect them to flee at the sight of it, but it'll encourage them to turn left instead of right if you catch my meaning."

Merry to be out of doors, Professor Strangely led on.

A request for prefect aid that constituted of early rising in still twilight hours was not going to be turned down by Ligeia at any stage. It being her favorite time of day.

Though heavily clothed, any bare area of her pale skin about glowed with reflected moonlight, face and wrists for the most part. Her own pack of bundles included her shut parasol hooked in a set of branches for easy travel. Buzzard, her vulture, also had a half bundle tow under his talons, basically circling the group and landing every so often to watch where the professor and prefects were going.

"Does it matter much between fresh growing rowan and picked bundles?" Ligeia asked, curious if planting more rowan around the border of Hogwarts' grounds would help. Albeit it was a bit out of season to expect it to take, hence why the picked bundles were probably more efficient.

" Should we have some of us keep patroni up? That might help keep any curious Dementors at bay." Josh piped up, albeit slightly muffled, since he was fairly well wrapped up agianst the cold- which had the extra advantage of helping against the rain too. He was glad he'd read up on Impervius Charms though-  and had actually managed to extend it slightly, in that he managed to make the Charm cover his face, meaning he wasn't as affected by the rain as some of his fellows.

"Don't trouble yourself, Harcroft.  Doubt you could manage it anyway," she said honestly but without berating him.  It was just that, well, Branwen was still relatively new and hadn't yet been acquainted with the singular talents of the Harcroft boys. 

The rambled across a stone bridge and their footfalls took a different timbre from the dull thuds of the main road.  Beneath them came the sound of splashing as some timid marshy creatures hid themselves away. 

"There is some rowan sprouting in pots in number three," she then responded to Canterbury.  "But they're not nearly large enough to do any good.  So sprigs it'll be so our defenses will be up this very day.  How'd you know that, Canterbury? You don't seem the outdoorsy kind."

Zel was feeling weary—his muscles ached, and his joints protested every time he made even the slightest movement. The last full moon had been a rough one. The transformation had a tendency to leave him utterly exhausted—but he would choose how he felt after a full moon over the indescribable, animalistic temper that grew beforehand. He preferred to feel sore, slightly irritable, and wholly human.

Waking up early wasn’t a problem; he hadn’t fallen asleep.

But staying awake—that was a whole different ordeal. Every time Zel blinked, he kept his eyes closed a fraction of a second longer,  as if he would feel more rested once his eyes opened.

Zel didn’t regret volunteering to help. In fact, he so earnestly wanted to aid Professor Strangely and whoever else was joining in on this valiant quest to deter dementors. He barely paid any mind to the conversation around him, he didn't have any questions yet, but his brain was still in a fog.

Patrol with the Prefects. This brought back such fond memories. Felinus had spent three proud years among the ranks of student leaders, including one as Head Boy. While his patrols in those days had been more concerned with troubles within the walls than without, if he closed his eyes the Caretaker could almost imagine himself back in that time, minding the halls with those who had been his friends.

Of course, imagination could only do so much. It couldn't put him up-right again or take away the feel of the earth beneath his paws. It couldn't mask the enhanced sense of smell or the twitch of his whiskers in cool night air. It couldn't, in short, make him human, nor could it remove the weight of the three rowan bundles tied to his back. Felinus carried a fourth in his mouth, which kept him mostly out of the conversation, save for mumbled interjections.

He stuck close to Trumble, in case the boy's 'condition' caused him any undue strain. Felinus had not been present at the school for the dust-up of the previous semester, but he could smell the wolf in the young Hufflepuff's scent. Clocking in for this errand the night after such an ordeal showed admirable dedication. Felinus would see that this not rewarded with careless injury.

"'Ranwen," he grumbled, making use of the muscles he used to growl and purr. "Hrmuch fthuher?"

Gale had been up nearly the entire night worrying about Zel, wondering about the Demeantors and preparing for this, but he would have put that all away just to make sure Zelig got some rest. Many times through their trek he wanted to reach out and take the young man's arm to keep him up right, or touch his shoulder just so he knew that someone was there to catch him if he fell. However, Gale took their conversation to heart, and very much just let him be.

"Madame Professor," Gale said to Branwen and forcing his attention to be pulled from Zel so that he could interject about another of his favorite students, "Miss Canterbury will surprise you often. She is very well versed in a number of topics." Falling back a moment to walk with Felinus he noticed that his friend was keeping close to Zel as well and he quietly thanked him with his eyes.

It was an odd grouping, this band, but anyone who doubted them would be sorely disappointed at the trouncing they'd receive.  But for now, they trundled along like mortals on a path 

"I haven't the slightest idea what you're saying, Mr. Woodward," she responded cheerily to the lion-man.  She imagined it must be the bundle in his jaws - he was eloquent most of the time. 

"Professor Kesali has high praise for you, Canterbury.  And at this point I've got no pause to think him a fibber, so well done.  Ah! Here we are then."

They'd come upon the hulking stone and iron gates of the castle with the winged boar gargoyles.  They seemed stock still just now, but Branwen knew the animation of which they were most capable.

"Leftward!"  They passed under the gates and stepped off the path to walk along the wall.  But they only went a few steps before Branwen stopped them and began to give instructions. 

"Levitate them up, and use a strong Sticking Charm.  The absolute best you've got.  There's a deer in these woods with an unnatural penchant for rowan, I've heard.  High as you can, of course.  Dementors don't slither on their bellies do they?"


It wasn't long before they were on the move.  The group found it efficient to stagger off, splitting up along the wall and overlapping as they progressed forward.  They'd agreed to stay in sight of one another, and not to get too far ahead.


"Higher!" Branwen directed her companion as the sun began to rise.  "Higher!"

Zel glanced down, only to see the infamous caretaker—Felinus Woodward himself. In all his majestic lion-hood. Zel didn’t even startle when he saw him anymore—he was rather fond of cats, though he did his very best to be polite to the lion. After all, he was a human in a lion’s body. If Zel was trapped in his werewolf form, he would very much like his humanity to be respected as long as he wasn’t going around trying to make his classmates his next meal.

He followed Strangely’s directions carefully, though he didn’t feel like he needed to levitate his rowan as high as most. He managed to stick one on a gargoyle’s nose, and moved on to the next one. The rowan was halfway to it’s destination, when he felt a chill. Zel felt goosebumps all up his arms and neck.  When he inhaled, it felt like the air was made of ice. It felt like his heart fell to his stomach, and he turned sharply, the rowan turning as he did---  only to hit a tall, cloaked figure in the… Face? The rowan branch fell to the ground, but that was the least of his worries.

The figure stepped—or rather, floated back, only to move around the branch and closer to the werewolf.

Zel took a few steps back, hands shaking—everything shaking. He had produced a patronus before, but in the safety of a classroom. Zel closed his eyes and focused—happy thoughts. The birth of his niece, his sister’s first words. But those were quickly replaced by less-than-happy memories.  “Ex-ex—“ He kept the wand pointed at the dementor, “Expecto patronum.” Zel choked out.

A silver wisp, then nothing. He felt frozen to his core. Frightened, but unable to move. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw another one approaching the group.

With Zelig sorted out on his bundle, Branwen strode on to the next stop, counting paces cheerfully in her head as she hummed an old school tune.   She didn't hear the pair of silent Dementors approach from above, the rising sun behind them. But she heard Zelig's frightened cast. 

Her first thought was disbelief - she hadn't actually thought they'd dare venture this close to the castle, but here they were great day in the morning!  Her first reaction before any other thought was to thrust her arm skyward and shout the incantation for red sparks.  They screamed high into the sky crackling and flashing scarlet.  The Aurors in the Ministry would be alerted and anyone in view would know: emergency! Send help!

One of them was nearly on top of the tall Hufflepuff, and the other heading towards the other students.  Branwen's fear was suddenly overwhelmed by a sense of anger and protectiveness and even as her hand shook, she took a deep breath and stepped towards the Dementor.

"Oh no you don't!" she shouted, voice trembling.  "Expecto Patronum!"  In her mind, a warm spring day.  She and her sister on brooms laughing.  Later sitting on a high tree bough eating sour cherries. 

The silver arc of magic rolled into a ball and a large shimmering toad tumbled out leaping towards the Dementor who seemed to shrivel and recoil.  But it wasn't over.

Josh had just finished the Stcking Charm to attach his Rowan to the wall, when he felt it. Dementors. looking around, he saw they were heading for him! "EXPECTO PATRONUM!" he yelled, seeing his patronus emerge. unsurprisingly, it was his animagus form, albeit the size of a tiger. Next, he thrust his arm skywards, throwing up red sparks. Hopefully help would get there in time- he didn't know how long his patronus would last.[1]

1.	Josh is a 6th year. In canon, we see 5th years more or less easily produce a a patronus under classroom conditions, and Josh has practiced casting it- this, he can cast it, but doesn't know how long it would last. Feel free to have Josh's patronus fail if you want, but please not immediately.

The Deputy Headmaster had passed Strangely and her group of rowan-carrying students on their way out. Much as the suggestion in the staff meeting had come at a terse moment of the whole matter, he hadn't thought the suggestion minor.

Hogwarts defences had once held out against the barrage of Voldemort and his death eaters, but the Hogwarts staff were mightily preoccupied with the dementors. Ignan had not wanted to add his voice to the growing alarm. He had spent hours in the early morning out at the defences attempting to reinforce matters, just to be sure, though even his mind was still not at rest.

He had been nearing the doors of the castle when the red sparks had gone up at the boundary.

Please let it be a false alarm ran through Ignan's mind before he started a path back to the gates. His wand found his fingertips. He wasn't a young man these days, so he flicked a charm to his feet to help speed matters, trying not to pitch headlong on the path in the process.

The gates sprang open as he raised his wand, and he could already feel the cold dread pulling at his very essence. An icy sick feeling clasped at him as he saw the dementors facing the group of students.

There were already patronuses in the air, trying to beat them off. Ignan's breath was initially stolen by the fact he'd run to them. Bother, he really wasn't getting any younger.

Memories of a hot, humid Venice day were dragged to the forefront of his mind, and an augury broke free from his wand, tumbling over itself at first until it soared out towards the group.

"Get inside!" He barked at the group, the gates to the grounds still slightly ajar behind him. "Move!" 

The Patroni were effective in their natural purpose and were, for the moment, keeping the foul wraiths at a distance.  But with the State of Affairs, when there were two, there were bound to be more.  Or so Branwen worried. 

Thank Merlin for Ignan Storm's speedy response! Branwen was washed with relief for the Defense Professor had a reputation and a solid track record defending students from all manner of beasts and beings.

"Do as he says!" she ordered the students, even as she moved towards Ignan herself.  She kept her Patronis between them and the Dementors, but they'd have to be properly dispatched. 

"Go! Go, now! Leave it!" she ordered a student who seemed to be attempting to maintain his focus on the difficult spell.

Two dementors at least, he could see as he tried to keep his focus on happier days. His patronus conjuring memories had been shifting of late - at one point hot, humid Venice days had become bittersweet until he had found out Azorma forgave him (to a point) and was alive and well (though in Azkaban).

"Kesali get them inside!" Ignan barked again, trying to keep a gap between the gates, him and his augury patronus and the dementors to allow them all to get inside the boundary. There was rowan strewn everywhere, and he and Strangeley had patronuses trying to hold them off, but the students were somewhat frozen in fear, though Harcroft was doing his best with the spell, an admirable accomplishment given his age and experience.

His thoughts were being bombarded with negative ones surrounding Azkaban, aurors, bodies in the forest, revelations of family and fights, cruel words and his mistakes. So preoccupied with the students and his fellow colleagues, he hadn't seen another approaching dementor joining the sudden commotion, and had to pivot on the spot, dragging his patronus away from helping Strangeley's to protecting himself alone for a moment.

The dementor took its chance to dart towards the gates, putting itself between Ignan and the rest of the group to his alarm.

Every time he closed his eyes, there were  flashes of a dark wolf--  his sister. Snarling,lunging at him--. The loudest voices that he heard weren’t from the people in the group, but those of his family members last July. Frightened. Angry. Chaotic. The air no longer smelled fresh, but metallic and bitter. Zel wasn’t sure if the smell was in his head, or if it was coming from the dementors.

"Get inside!" He barked at the group, the gates to the grounds still slightly ajar behind him. "Move!"

Ignan’s voice was faint, but it was there. Grounding Zel in the present. Part of him wanted to run—knew that he needed to run. The logical, self-preserving part of him knew that he should listen to Strangely and Storm.

At first he listened-- and ran towards the gate. But another part of him was pulling him another way. Something fierce in his core wanted--  needed?- to fight.

“No!” He shook his head  with a severe determination. “You can’t force me.” Zelig’s cheeks were flushed, and his muscles felt like they were full of fire. He could do anything. He had to. Strangely and Storm weren’t young—they needed backup. At least, until the aurors arrived. Yes, Kesali was there, but…  Would that be enough?

He closed his eyes and tried to push away the memories of his sister as a beast out for blood. He focused on kinder memories…  Summers playing in the water, swimming games with his siblings. “Ex—“ He choked up, “Expecto Patronum!” Although he choked on his words, silvery wisps came out of his wand, more like fog than any sort of patronus. It was better than nothing.

“I can do this!” Zel exclaimed, sending the professors brief, but sharp looks; daring them to say otherwise.

The dementor was approaching the gate.

"Expecto Patronum!" His voice this time was clear, confident, and full of fire. He thought of spending time by the lake with Raine, joking with Figaro in the dorm room-- some crazy part of them actually enjoyed spending time with Zel. For that, he was more grateful than they knew.

A silvery fog came out of his wand, and solidified into a baby elephant. It pranced around the dementor, guarding the gate for now. Trumble didn't know how long he could keep it corporeal, but that was a problem for Future Zel.[1]

1.	I honestly don't see Zel being able to hold this longer than a few minutes. And that's pushing it. So please, feel free to have his patronus disappear if you'd like!