Ava hurtled round the corner of the main entrance hall as though there was some very important business she had to attend to. Suddenly, she stopped stock still and leant against the cool stone wall. The entrance hall was empty except for the sound of her own footsteps on the stone floor and the prominent beating of her heart. "I've told you to stay out of my head," she hissed, seemingly into the dim candlelight of nothingness. Had someone been there, they would be very wary of the situation before them, either worried for their safety or for Ava's sanity.

The dark circles under her eyes were enough to give the impression that the seventh year girl was not sleeping well - if at all - but when added to the sunken appearance her eyes had taken on, the thin, pale and lifeless form of her lips and the thinning of her face that made her cheeks stand out, it was obvious that things had hit an all-time low for the Slytherin. "Just leave me alone." Her hiss fizzled off into the darkness as she pushed away from the wall once more, hoping that she would be able to escape the voices in her head if she strode away from them purposely.

It was the weekend.  Two completely open days with nothing but free time to catch up on studies - which had occupied most of Sasha's time since brunch.  His mind was finally starting to settle somewhat, allowing him to concentrate on his studies for longer stretches.  Which meant, Sasha was starting to fall into the habit of looking up from his studies a couple hours after the Great Hall had stopped serving dinner.  A situation which, time and time again, the kitchen elves seemed more than happy to rectify.  One might even speculate that Sasha was beginning to deliberately miss dinner knowing it was just so much easier to avoid the rest of the student body (a few Slytherins, in particular).  He'd been on his way back up to Ravenclaw tower from the kitchens when he spotted Ava.

Sasha stopped and watched her for a moment.  Shortly after the start of the term, Sasha had made an effort to talk to Ava and reconcile after the fight (if it could have been called that) in Hogsmeade.  But, that had gone just as badly and Sasha simply hadn't had the strength to face it.  And, truthfully, he'd been avoiding her since - which had proven quite easy as the term seemed to quickly spin out of control.  Habit and a certain degree of emotional self-preservation was urging Sasha to ignore her and walk by.  That was, after all, what she wanted.  She'd made that painfully clear every time they exchanged words now. 

But now - she ... she looked horrible.  And, she was still family - even if she wished they weren't. 

Hesitantly, fully prepared for her to turn on him, Sasha crossed the room towards her.  She was talking to herself and, for lack of a better way of describing it, looked lost.  Something was wrong.  There was no denying it.  She probably still hated him and would, likely, always hate him but the gaping hole his family had left was making it impossible to simply turn and walk away on the one of two sisters he had left.  He hesitated then, "Ava?"  He reached a hand out to place it firmly on Ava's shoulder.  He would, if he had to, drag her to someone for help. 

Ava felt the hand on her shoulder before she even heard the voice or knew who was beside her. The hand felt hot against her ice-cold skin, and she pulled away instantaneously as though she had been burnt by his touch. She let her eyes fall on his face, but it was a few moments before her vision focussed and she was able to see clearly the look of worry on Sasha's features. "Sasha..." Her voice was barely audible, a whisper of desperation. She looked down at the stone floor, as though she was looking for something in particular. Her hair fell over her face, as lifeless as she herself seemed at that exact moment.

But, in the moment that she had appeared to need someone's help more than ever, something snapped and that despair seemed to disappear as though a house elf had clicked its fingers. Her eyes narrowed, and she seemed stronger once again. "What do you want?" The hiss in her voice was probably more familiar to her younger brother, something that had played a big part in her personality over the last few months. "I've told you to stay out of this. It's none of your business!"

For the briefest of moments, she was there.  He recognized that glimpse of the Ava he once knew and felt distinctly vindicated.  It also verified in the young man's mind beyond any shadow of a doubt what he'd feared over the last few months: her anger and spitefulness weren't really her.  He couldn't explain what or why or how.  He just knew it was. 

It was enough to rekindle his determination.  Now, it would matter little Ava what might say or do, he wasn't going to give up or get distracted again.  As, he realized with a slight pang of guilt, he had these last few weeks. 

So, when her voice changed and she hissed at him, he did his best to give that now far too familiar personality much credence.  "I want to help you," he admitted, reluctantly, knowing all too well those words would just earn him that merciless laugh and harsh dismissal.  But, it was the truth - and it was even stronger than before.  He'd lost enough in the way of family over the last month - he needed to help her just as much as he knew she needed the help. 

"And, it is my business.  It doesn't matter how much you hate it, your ... your still my sister."  It still felt weird to say it.  "And, I care about you so-"  Sasha was well aware this was one of those times someone capable of far more poignancy than him would have some wonderfully touching soliloquy prepared that could break through and sway even the stoniest statues of queens.  But, that wasn't him.  And, his words faltered and fell flat.  "All - All I want is for you to talk to someone.  That's all."  He reached out to grasp her hand arm with a stubborn determination - once he had it, he had no intentions of letting go until she was in the presence of someone who was far more capable than he.  He had no intentions of making the same mistake he'd made in Hogsmeade.  He was, perhaps foolishly, counting on that part of her he'd glimpsed momentarily to keep her from hexing him. 

"Let's go," he said, quite clearly leaving no room for negotiation. 

She gave a harsh laugh that sounded more like a bark - the hoarsness in her voice was more evident than ever and only served to exacerbate the dim view of her predicament. "Don't fool yourself, Sasha!" Her eyes were wide as and she grabbed hold of his shoulder to shake some sense into him. "Don't drag yourself into this!" There was a certain amount of pity in her eyes as she said this, though her voice sounded distant and cold. Suddenly, her temperament changed again dramatically. "Please," she pleaded with him, taking her hand from his shoulder. "Please  don't get involved. You'll get hurt, and I-" she stopped and looked down at the floor. "Just don't. You'll understand someday."

"Let's go,"

He grabbed hold of her arm and began to pull her, and in that instant something in her snapped. Using her free hand, she pulled her wand from her pocket, her eyes flashing with a cruelty that had never been there before. "CRUCIO!" She hadn't even concentrated on where her wand was aimed, but she had felt something - someone - in her head, telling her that it was imperative she did this.

Again, there were the mixed messages.  In the same breath, she was telling him to leave her alone and confirming she was in trouble.  The warning that he'd get hurt didn't register much with him.  After all, he'd hurt other people enough over the last few months; even he could see how cowardly it'd be for him to turn his back on what little family he had left.

"I ... just give me a chance, alright?  That's all I'm -" 

His words died in a blinding wave of pain like he'd never felt before.  It inundated every inch of his body, every muscle, every nerve ending bursting like it had been lit on fire.  Sasha was aware of little else: he was oblivious to crumpling to the ground under the force of the curse or the tortured scream that filled his lungs.  There was no way to tell how many minutes had passed.  Time had slowed to a steady, mocking crawl. 

But time had continued.  Finally, though it felt like ages, the brute heat of the pain ebbed.  For several long moments, he lay motionless on the cold, stone floor of the entrance hall, half aware of the last echoes of his own voice dying in the domed chamber.  His eyes were closed as he took long, slow breaths into lungs that sorely regretted being compelled to move.    Slowly, complete cognitive thoughts began to form once more in his brain and the first sunk heavily. 

She'd left.

He tried to push himself upright and made it to his hands and knees before he could look around the entrance hall.  Ava was still standing there, several feet away.  Nervously, his eyes darted to the wand she still held before he quickly lifted a hand to wipe his face free of - was it sweat?  Tears?  He couldn't tell.

His hands shook and his legs trembled as if he'd just run a marathon but, somehow, he managed to push himself to his feet, his wand in his own hand. 

"Expelliarmus!"  He hoped against hope that, for once - or perhaps finally - his old wand would decide it actually liked him and would work for him.  It had to.  He needed it to. 

Ava watched with a simple satisfaction as Sasha fell crumbling to the floor, writhing in a pain that one could only imagine in the deep, dark crevices of their imagination. In short bursts, Sasha's screams pierced her soul and almost made her wince, though for the most part she found herself morbidly curious with his spasming body on the stone floor.

As the waves of pain seemed to ebb, Sasha regained control of his body once more, and his eyes strained to find her face - though on finding it, he would not find sympathy or pity. Only a distant harshness flashed across Ava's features as she looked down at the body on the floor.

Ava watched with an amusement that didn't seem to be her own, as Sasha pushed himself shakily up from the ground, and held his own wand out in front of him. Ava's lips twitched at the corners as Sasha made an atrocious attempt to disarm her. She flicked her wand almost lazily as she reciprocated the incantation, though her own use of the spell actually did what it said on the tin. Sasha's wand floated purposefully and easily into Ava's hand, and she made a point of  studying it almost meticulously.

"Nice try," she said quietly, ominously, as she brandished the prize wand in front of Sasha's face. "But you didn't try hard enough. You failed." She smirked and once again lifted her wand, though this time her target was clear: her brother. "CRUCIO!"

Without even waiting to see the results of her handiwork, Ava turned on her heel and walked calmly and serenely out of the entrance hall, through the courtyard and through the grounds towards the forbidden forest.

His wand slipped from his hand to land squarely in Ava's fingers.  She closed her hand around the handle with a solid confidence and sense of assurance.  Looking across the shadowed hall, there was no hint of the Ava he knew in the face that stared coldly back at him.  His body ached like he was racked with a horrid, feverish flu and his legs trembled slightly. 

She had his wand; he was unarmed and defenseless.  He staggered a few steps towards the nearest piece of structural support - a stair banister - and took a firm hold.  She was berating him - mocking his failure.  But no - it isn't her he stubbornly reminded himself. 

They needed help - she needed help!  He knew it - he was confident of it.  He turned his head, intent on calling for help from anyone who might hear him but before he could get the words out, blinding pain seized his already sore body and, once more, he crumpled to the floor.  He could only see black; could only hear the sound of his own screams filling the hall again; could only feel unimaginable pain.  He just wanted it to end - to stop.  The blackness - that could continue if only the pain would stop.

He lay motionless for several minutes after the curse ended, unable to move as the pain slowly faded.  The corner of a step was digging into the side of his face and another against shoulder.  There was no mistaking it that time, tears were streaming down his cheeks as he, finally, opened his eyes again.  He could taste blood; he must have bit his tongue when he'd fallen. 

Slowly, shakily, hand over hand on the stair pillar, he pulled himself to his feet.  Finally, he looked around.  The entrance hall was empty.  She was gone.  The door out onto the grounds was standing ajar.  Ava had left.  Why had she left?  Where was she going?  An ominous foreboding gripped Sasha's chest and he turned towards the stairs.  "Help!  Anyone!" he cried desperately.  Hopefully, someone would hear him.  Another prefect, a professor, a ghost.  Bloody hell!  One of the portraits.  Word had to get to someone somehow, right?  But, if they lost her...if she got too far ahead in the darkness ...

He took a few hesitant steps; his muscles objected to every movement and his knees quacked with exertion but his legs supported his weight.  He pushed his way out the front door and scanned the darkness and spotted her a short distance off, heading towards the Forbidden Forest.  He glanced over his shoulder, hoping to see someone coming to his aid but there was no one, yet.  In a few moments, she'd be out of sight.  Sasha staggered down the front steps and started across the lawns.  After a few paces, his legs, though still painful, were feeling steady.  He broke into a jog and, when he didn't fall, into a full run. 

"Ava!" he called.  "Just wait"

Taking confident strides, Ava made her way across the grass which was scattered with the first twinklings of a frosty January night. She didn't need to look back towards the castle to know that Sasha was following, his usual "can-do", pompous attitude filling each of his steps with more purpose than the one before. His attempts at calling for help had been in vain. Of course no one had heard him. That was the plan. A plan that Ava didn't know the fine details of, but a plan nevertheless.

She didn't try to stop him. Much as though a part of her - a very small, very distant part of her - wanted him to turn, run and not look back, Ava needed him to follow. He would. She knew he would. Sasha was too much of a faithful lapdog to not follow her, even though she had cursed him twice already and the constant threat of worse things to come loomed in the cold air.

Ava paused at the edge of the forest. Sasha wasn't too far behind - she could hear his clumsy footsteps crunching against the frosted grass as he lumbered towards her. She needed to make sure he didn't lose sight of her. Ava didn't want any reason to be in trouble, least of all over Sasha Schlagenweit. She lifted her chin slightly towards the sky, and tilted her face to the waxing crescent moon. Her eyes closed, and she breathed in deeply through her nose, causing a stinging sensation as the harsh air bit at her nostrils. She could taste the freshness of winter on her tongue as she gulped down as much of the cold air as she could while she had the chance.

She heard Sasha come up behind her, breathless and clearly still in pain as he implored her to wait.

"Bad things happen when people interfere." Her eyes were still locked on the moon and star-scattered sky, but her eerily ominous tone sent shivers down even her own spine.

Without saying another word, Ava set off trudging through the wintery undergrowth that lined the ourskirts of the forest, heading towards a clearing not too far in but far enough to be in the shaded safety of the overbearing trees.

She cast one final glance back at Sasha's worried face, before smiling with every inch of her face except her eyes. Her eyes had finally lost all trace of Ava Nyx Grosvenor.

How long had it been since Sasha first stumbled through the castle door?  Minutes?  Had an hour past?  Was it past midnight?  Approaching morning?  He didn't know.  He couldn't tell.  His mind had long forgotten about all aspects of time.  The moon had slipped behind a bank of clouds, leaving its own passage across the sky a complete mystery as flat, dry flakes drifted lazily down through the still air.  There was only him, sitting alone on the frozen forest floor in the center of the stand of trees. 

The forest was completely still under the dusting snow.  Cold seeped mercilessly through the seat of his trousers into muscles that still ached dully but the violent shaking had stopped some time ago.  He hadn't intended to leave the castle so there was no reason to dress for the bitter cold of a night in the forest.  The trousers, thin sweater and school robes he'd been wearing when he'd first crossed Ava's path had been no match for the elements - but, then, there hadn't been time to grab his winter coat. And, now, his blood-soaked sweater had long since frozen against his chest in the bitter night air.  He'd never been this cold before.  But, he couldn't - he wouldn't move.  In order to move, he'd have to let go of her and ... he just couldn't.

He kept his arms wrapped tightly around Ava, holding her protectively against his chest.  Beneath his arms, he could feel the warmth slowly fading from her limp frame.  She was gone.  That reality hung over him like a heavy mist.  It wasn't supposed to - it shouldn't have ended this way.  He shouldn't have let it come to this!  But, no matter how unfair - no matter how cruel it seemed, it didn't change a thing.  They'd lost - she'd lost.  Her last words still echoed in his head but they were, at least for now, drowned out by the heavy echo of emptiness.  He knew now, with an all too painful familiarity, that once he loosened his grip and let her go, it'd be over.  He'd lose her, too. 

Somewhere nearby, something was moving through the snow but the soft crunching of the snow barely registered with the young man.  Even if he wanted to be found, he was much too disoriented and his voice far too weak to try.  He closed his eyes and let his head droop forward, hoping whoever it was would simply pass them in the darkness. 

Two empty beds could usually be resolved within an hour, with red faces and a detention, but tonight, the two empty beds belonging to Sasha Schlagenweit and Ava Grosvenor were still empty. Neither of them were known for proficiency at the game of hide and seek, above all other skills. Neither of them appeared to have taken their winter cloaks with them - both found hanging in their dormitories.

More worrying still were the accounts - or lack of accounts - of anyone seeing them from an hour of the evening past. It was suggested it would be unlikely the students would have been able to scale the walls, due to the well established and most ancient boundary magic in place to protect the castle, but it could not entirely be ruled out.

Ignan was glad of Tapendra's company. The grounds were not only frozen, but the forest was alight with sudden movements as they traversed it together. The sound of their footsteps and the light from their wands both disturbing the forest's unusual inhabitants who scuttled, shrieked and shot out of the way of their route. They tried not to rely too hard on the wand light, letting their eyes adjust to the darkness. Tapendra had the upper hand in that case, Ignan reasoned silently.

Re-emerging from the trees, they did not need to speak. Both saw the shape against the grass leading away from the forest, and knew it had not been there before.
"Sasha, Ava!" Ignan heard himself cry out, as his legs carried him forwards, wand out, casting light on the scene. The light picked out the mop of hair of Sasha, stooped. Something was not right.

Ignan seized the young wizard's shoulder, realising how unnaturally cold the young man was, and then how tense.
"Let go, Sasha." Ignan instructed gently, having set eyes on the lifeless form clasped in Sasha's arms. "Schlagenweit." He repeated, as if they were in class - trying to get Sasha to follow the command automatically.
"Tapendra, have you got her?" He asked softly, gently pulling at Sasha's arms to try and loosen his grip. Whatever had happened, they had to deal with it, and ask specifics later. Flicking his wand up, he checked around them should there be an intruder, but saw nothing, before looking back anxiously to the two students and his younger colleague.

Tapendra was glad of Ignan's company as well; he could certainly think of worse teachers to get sent into the Forbidden Forest with. Bombay, for example - though Graham  could have come in handy, if only as a shield.

The two figures in the clearing painted a very...distressing image. He jogged after Ignan, pasuing a few feet before they reached the two, and approaching at a careful pace - he'd seen the...amount of blood.  The darkness and cold were suddenly in the background to a wave of nausea. He'd never dealt well with blood, especially when there was...so much of it.

Sasha didn't move at Ignan's budging, and Tapendra frowned, swallowing his ill feeling and kneeling next to  the boy. "Schlagenweit," he said, his voice as gentle as he was able to make it, given the circumstances and his proximity to Ava. He put his free hand on one of the boy's shoulders, his hand becoming blood-stained, and looked up at Ignan. "He's hypothermic, Ignan. Badly, I think." He bit his lip, his eyes wide as he thought quickly. Then he raised his hand to Ignan, gesturing for him to let go of Sasha.

He looked down at Ava. There was no need to check for a pulse. No one could look like that and still be alive. His mind reeled for a moment and he swallowed. "Sasha, we need to take her back to the castle," he said, his warm hand rubbing the boy's shoulder gently. "Will you let us?"

Whatever had caused those footsteps had come and gone, leaving Sasha in still darkness once more.  Still, time had lost its dimension again and how much had elapsed before voices could heard calling through the dark forest was impossible to tell.  The voice was distant, vague and didn't register with the boy.  It wasn't until something closed around his shoulder that Sasha was aware he was no longer alone. 

He yelped in surprise and panic, recoiling from the physical and aural intrusion before he realized who the hand and voice belonged to.  At least, his mind had tried to urge his body to retreat from the intrusion but little more than a hummed murmur and a slight shift away from the hand was all he'd managed to produce.  He made another feeble attempt to shake the hand off his shoulder but the man's grasp shifted to his arm, prying him from her.  But, he didn't want to let go - he wasn't ready - but his rigid, weakened arms were no match for the man's steady grip.   

His mind swam, trying to grasp at whatever comprehension there was to be had.  It was Professor Storm who held him by the arm - he knew that.  He recognized the voice.  And the accent.  Had he done something wrong?  Had he stepped out of line in class again?  "I'm ... I'm sorry," he offered in German.  "I didn't know ... I didn't know what to do.  I'll - sit detention, just-" 

There was a second voice and a second hand on his shoulder.  With considerable effort, he managed to force his eyes open, blinking in the bright lights from the wands overhead.  It took a few breaths for his eyes to focus on the two faces overhead but, when they finally did, he reluctantly nodded and, with a strangled whimper, released his grip on Ava.  "I'm sorry," he repeated, this time in English, as he tried to pull himself to his feet.

If he was babbling like that, the hypothermia and shock were certainly getting to him. Tapendra helped the boy to his feet, patting his shoulder vaguely and looking at his bloody shirt. There was snow on Sasha's clothing as well, and he certainly wasn't getting any warmer looking like that.

He pulled his wand from his pocket and paused, thinking hard. This was going to be trouble - a lot of it. Damn, he hadn't even worked here for a month - so much for the school being a quiet job.

"Sasha, one moment," he said gently, reaching out and carefully pulling the boy's shirt up. The blood had glued it to him in various places, but he wasn't injured underneath it; he didn't have any visible wounds, at least ones large enough to cause that amount of bleeding. That meant the blood was probably Grosvenor's.

Tapendra let Sasha's shirt go and pulled out his wand, taking a deep breath. "Scourgify!" he said sharply, and the blood on Sasha's clothes vanished. He then looked at Ignan, hoping quietly he didn't get into too much trouble for erasing what was effectively evidence.

"Give him your coat, will you, Ignan? Best not to let him get any colder than he already is." He looked down at Ava's body and started shrugging off his large cloak, laying it out on the ground and carefully wrapping her body with it, lifting her off the ground.

"I'm ... I'm sorry," Sasha responded in German.  "I didn't know ... I didn't know what to do.  I'll - sit detention, just-"

"Don't worry." Ignan replied back in German, automatically, 

"I'm sorry," he repeated, this time in English, and Tapendra helped him to his feet, while Ignan tried to get a better look at the state of Ava, with all this blood, it was difficult to establish where it had come from. 

"Sasha, one moment," He heard Tapendra say, as he examined Sasha, who looked lost, a haunted look behind his heavy eyes. Grosvenor was most certainly dead, and her injuries extensive, Ignan felt his stomach twist as his mind conjured up all memories from the sight and smell.

"Is he-?" hurt Ignan was going to end the sentence but stopped short, looking up to see and hear Tapendra:
"Scourgify! Give him your coat, will you, Ignan? Best not to let him get any colder than he already is."

Ignan frowned, and muttered carefully and firmly,
"You should not have done that Trishna..." But stood back up and swung his cloak from his shoulders and around Sasha as Tapendra used his own to wrap the bloodied form of the last Ava Grosvenor.
"Are you hurt?" Ignan asked Sasha firmly, stood before him, obscuring his view of Tapendra tending to the body. He suspected Sasha could have all manner of injuries, only masked by the extreme cold. Raising his wand, he incanted a warming spell, beginning at Sasha's head, before he drew his own black cloak hood over the student's head, which dwarfed him a bit. It would slowly help to bring Sasha's temperature up - along with the warmth from Ignan's cloak fresh off the Professor's back.

"We must get them both into the castle at once." He turned to say to Tapendra, before turning back to Sasha, and pulling the student's arm over Ignan's shoulder, keen to keep him awake and get him warm by forcing him to walk, preserving any memories in the boy's head as far as possible for the Ministry to examine.
"Can you lift the body intact?" He asked, keen to get out of the cold for everyone's sake.