From the Ashes

Who: Travie and Patrick
Where: Random corridors
When: Friday, around the end of last period
What: ZOMBIES BWAHAHA

Travis and Patrick were supposed to be doing rounds; usually this consisted of shooting the shit and poking into rooms at random to make sure no evil plant life had germinated. TGIF, though, and once last period was over, Travie just needed to do one final sweep of the main corridors and then he'd, in theory, be off for a day or two. He slowed, sights set on opening the next door on the left. They were in the main part of the school, near the library and a handful of usable classrooms, and a couple floors up from the Great Hall, so chances were good that this particular room had already been cleared out ages ago. Class was due to get out soonish, which meant watching for snogging teenagers and stinkbombs and muddy shoes- all in a day's work. "Hold up a mo, mate."

He twisted the worn doorknob, leaning into the empty storage closet to peer around. Nope, no teenagers and no hexes, which was above par for this school. Travis closed the door again. "Nothing! So we should go into Hogsmeade next weekend, yeah?"

[delivered by a small, grey, tabby cat, with big eyes and a serious voice]

[To Professor Urie]
Hey Brendon, me and William are in the library with twenty-four students, including seven Hufflepuffs from sixth and seventh year. Pete and apparently a few of the Gryffindors are in the Tower; we're trying to work out where the rest of the Heads are. Have you got your kids? Where are you?

[To Professor Saporta]
Gabe, me and William are in the library with twenty-four students, ten of them are Slytherins from fifth, sixth and seventh years, can get names to you on parchment once we have a location. Whereabouts are you? Have you got many of your kids? If anything especially bad beyond the undead hungry House Elves is going on, would love a bit of information.

[To Auror Way]
Hi, Gerard, are you on the grounds? William and I are in the library with some students, were wondering what the situation is outside, if you've still got your broom. Whereabouts are you?

[To Professor Way]
Are you okay?

[ to Professor Brendon Urie ]
Professor Urie, your second years are currently with me, and we are in the Great Hall. I wanted to let you know that they are indeed safe, as are your 7th year NEWT Muggle Studies students.



[ to Professor Gabe Saporta ]
Gabe - two of your seventh years are with me in the Great Hall - the ones who were in Muggle Studies. They're fine.



[ to Misha Lazzara]
There's an issue at the school; we're taking care of it, and I'm fine. I may not see you this weekend. If you see any house elves behaving strangely, stun them and get the hell away, because there's something crazy going on. I'll explain it all when I get the chance. Be safe. Love you.

Who: Gabe, Mikey, Open
When: Friday, just before dinner
Where: Ground Floor
What: The undead and indentured

Mikey took the first step off the staircase, his wand drawn and ready. His sleeve flapped a little where it had been ripped open five minutes before and his hand was still trembling from some combination of anger and fear.

There was a suspicious trail of red down the hallway they needed to take but no sign of anything moving, so he took another step forward. He listened next, picking up what he thought was the faint sound of shuffling coming from somewhere. Choosing not to give it too much thought, he looked back at his charges. Anything was better than the moaning that had seemed to be everywhere upstairs.

He waved with his other hand to signal the sixth years down, checking on his wounded as he did. There was one who was a little dizzy from a misguidedly swung chair and another who had reached out to touch the first of the house elves and received a nasty bite. They'd bandaged the second up between them, but he was pale and in need of support by one of the others.

The worst of the situation, however, was that he didn't really have a plan. The Gryffindor Common Room had sprung to mind as a destination but in the end had been too many floors up to fight their way to. The Great Hall, on the other hand, had been only two floors down. With the Dungeons and the Slytherin Common Room just an additional floor away. He was hoping they wouldn't have to go that far, though.

Swallowing and struggling for a less weary expression, he started to lead the children silently down the blood-stained hallway.

Who: Gerard and Jon (and whoever else is wandering the grounds)
When: Friday before dinner
Where: the Grounds
What: patrolling and eluding certain death, etc etc

It was a gorgeous fall afternoon, which meant a good portion of the student population was out wandering around, basking in the crisp air and kicking through leaf litter. Gerard couldn’t blame them for wanting to get out – weather like this wasn’t going to last much longer, and once it ended they’d be stuffed indoors with hundreds of other teenagers. Poor bastards.

Normally he didn’t mind having the kids milling around outside, even if it did mean extra work for him. They were sort of hilarious with all their teenaged drama and posturing – like a live action soap opera. But for some reason, right now it was making Gerard uneasy. Probably just all the weirdness lately – another Venemous tentacula was probably going to spring up any moment now. At least it’d be dark soon and they’d all be heading inside for dinner.

Although if those Ravenclaw and Slytherin fourth years didn’t stop poking at the grindylows under the docks, Gerard was just going to feed them to the fucking squid and be done with it. He felt a little bad for being short with them, but at least they retreated sulkily to the shore, where they’d be safe. Safer, anyway.

He went back to flying his circuit and scanning the grounds for anything out of the ordinary -- oh, look, Gryffindors shouting at each other. Not what he was exactly call unusual. Gerard made a mental note to check back later and make sure it didn’t devolve from shouting to wandwork.

Something still felt off, though. His instincts were something he’d learned to trust during the war, but he was starting to doubt himself a bit now. He was just wondering if maybe he had time to go get a cup of coffee or something, calm himself down, when he saw something odd by the South Wall. He circled down cautiously for a closer look.

Holy fuck, a house elf! Gerard had never actually seen one out and about on the grounds before, so that was odd enough, and then he spotted another three of them. And – Gerard flared his nostrils, frowning. And they smelled – odd. Like old meat. Gerard called down to them, wary, and they looked up at him with blank, filmy eyes. One snapped its little brown teeth at him, reaching upward. The others started up a low, unintelligible moan.

And that’s when he heard the screaming start.

William,
Perhaps once we've dealt with the undead house elf infestation, you would like to join me for a cup of tea and a bit of polishing up our CVs?

Sincerely,
Peter Lewis Kingston Wentz III

PS. And it might be of interest to you to know that Ryland and I are currently in Gryffindor, securing the children we brought with us (quite a few of your lot, if you were looking to gather them together) and prioritizing locations to canvas for more children. I'm assuming this will find you in the library. I'm also hoping you will tell me you've sussed out that it's perfectly alright to fatally wound the house elves.

PPS. This is Ryland's personal owl. She's a murderous beast, but as you're not romantically inclined towards Ryland, your eyes and vital bits should be safe while you compose your reply.

PPPS. Please respond.

Who: Spencer and William
When: Friday, just before dinnertime
Where: The library
What: Oh shit.

"Everyone out," William repeated, ushering the lingering students toward the door. He had a dozen or so extremely reluctant fourth-years, which he suspected meant there was an exam coming up soon in someone's class. He could only imagine the insanity once OWL and NEWT testing time came around.

"That includes everyone in the back as well," he called, raising his voice slightly toward the Muggle literature section, where he'd seen Duncan and Rothwell sneak off to kiss earlier. If they thought he was going to lock them in here for an hour unattended, they were gravely mistaken.

The last few students trickled out, and William turned to Spencer with a smile. "Loitering Herbology professors don't get a free pass either," he said, pulling out his wand to lock the doors. "Don't think you're going to swipe the November issue of Plants in Peril before I've gotten to read it. I'm onto your cunning Slytherin plan."

Who: Jon and Shane
When: Dusk on Wednesday
Where: Courtyard
What: a cupcake, a house elf, and the beginning of the end


Jon crossed the courtyard, head down as he searched his bag. He was pretty sure that the house elves had wrapped the fresh (or as fresh as two day old Grommice could be) securely, but he didn't really need it leaking everywhere, just in case. It was almost too late to avoid a collision by the time he noticed the black tennis shoes out of the corner of his eye.

"Whoa, shit. Sorr-oh hey, is that the new Pudwallace 3200?"

who: Pete, Ryland, & Adam
where: in the shared hallway outside their classrooms
when: Friday, shortly before last period officially lets out
what: zombie hoardes gaggle?

Pete was in the habit of wandering out into the hall with his little group of Seventh Year NEWTS a few minutes before class officially ended; it was a more casual type of conversation, so they could feel free to probe him (metaphorically) for information about his Year As A Muggle. The kinds of questions they couldn't ask in class. How shaggable were muggle girls, for example. Or how did muggles keep from pregnancy and disease? That sort of thing.

Thus, he was in the middle of a somewhat spirited discussion of the American muggle political system when something wandered up to one of his Ravenclaws and bit her on the leg.

"Ow," she said. "What the bloody hell?"

At first, Pete thought it was one of Adam's second years - they'd just started filing out, and you never could tell with second years - but when she jerked and he got a good look, he saw it was...a house elf. A weirdly stumbly, glazed-eyed, ashy looking house elf that was reaching out with its grasping little hands and trying to pull his student's arm down.

That was...weird. "Hey now," he said, frowning, and wrapped his hand around his student's wrist, jerking her firmly away from the house elf and to his other side. The house elf (Pete was pretty sure this one was named Sana) moaned creepily and stumbled towards him.

He stunned it, instinct kicking in, and then winced guiltily. "Shit," he said, taking a hasty step forward. "Shit, sorry."

"Um," one of his other kids said. "Professor Wentz."

Behind Sana there was a small group of house elves, all with the same creepy affectation. Worse, a few of them had blood smeared down their chins, and they were looking...decidedly zombie like. Pete blinked, and said, with as much sincerity as he had ever said anything in his life, "Shit.."