From the Ashes

Who: William, Spencer, Mikey
When: Weds 30th Dec
Where: Somewhere about the castle
What: Hey, aren't you usually a little bigger?

Mikey was done with Wednesday.

Two hours ago he had gotten conscientiously out of bed in perfect time for his 9am lesson, trundled all the way through the corridors, tripped on a doorway, splashed coffee on his notes, then found the classroom empty and the only child nearby insisting it was Sunday.

It had been strange, but not necessarily a problem. And really he'd been quite happy to give one glance to the deserted corridors, take the Ravenclaw at her word, and then go back to bed. Getting days mixed up was something he was totally capable of.

No, the real problem was that he'd woken up an hour or so later to an owl from one of his first years wondering why their lesson had been cancelled with no notice. And now, when he left his room, it seemed to definitely be Wednesday. There were children bustling about the hallways, swinging book bags and chatting loudly, and the clock on the second floor was pointing authoritatively to Mittwoch.

Which meant he'd obviously been the victim of a neatly executed prank and his first years - and possibly others - were holed up in a common room somewhere laughing at him.

He sighed, and turned down a less busy corridor to try and concentrate on a suitable punishment. His fingers dragged against the wall and then suddenly he was blinking into sunlight strangely bright for the time of day and his head felt heavy, like he'd been sleeping for too long.

Who: Spencer and William
When: Mid-morning, December 28th
Where: The library
What: Wibbly-wobbly timey-wimey stuff

Movement caught the corner of William's eye, and he turned automatically toward the motion without thinking. The source of the distraction turned out to be Pearce-Parson, a third-year Slytherin (the worst year for that House, or so William had come to be convinced, although it was a close race), who, as William watched, stuffed something - a note? a list? Merlin forbid, a page from a book? - inside the library wall before plugging the gap. The boy looked over his shoulder as he fitted the stone into place, clearly nervous about his subterfuge being discovered, but he was looking in the wrong direction.

William took a step forward to reprimand him, and stopped again, abruptly dizzy. There was something in the way the light fell on that side of the room...too bright, perhaps, the shadows shorter, not quite right. It didn't make any sense, and when William blinked and shook his head to clear it, he opened his eyes to find everything as normal and Pearce-Parson gone.

He took the remaining steps over to the wall and smoothed his hand over the cool stones. This was the spot, he was certain of it. This was the shape of the stone, but when William pried at it with his fingertips, it wasn't even slightly loose. Nor did he remember it being so, or any of the other stones, although he couldn't say he made a habit of checking. Even so, he'd thought he would have noticed.

He tapped his wand around the edges of the stone, chipping at the masonry until it was loose enough to slide free of the wall, mortar crumbling to dust over his shoes and the carpet. Nothing. There was nothing there. No scrap of parchment, not the slightest sign of disturbance beyond what William had caused. He frowned, and looked around again. No sign of Pearce-Parson. William hadn't even known he was here in the library. He must have slipped in while William had been looking for a treatise on magical applications of woad. Strange, that.

December 24th

Spencer,

Please come to the library at your earlier convenience; your expertise is required. You might wish to announce yourself at the door as well, particularly if you are a traditionalist or if Mikey accompanies you or of a superstitious nature. There are wards on the door in case you forget, so please don't be alarmed by the chorus of handbells that may arise should you enter without declaring yourself beforehand.

Sincerely,
William

Who: Gerard and Spencer
Where: The Forbidden Forest
When: December 20th, early enough to be grumpy.
What: Christmas Tree Hunting.

"No offense," Spencer said, as they trudged along the crisp, snow-covered ground to the first stretch of trees. "It's just that, you know, the Forbidden Forest has a bad rap, don't you think? I haven't seen anything scarier than Jon's Hippogriffs out here, and, I mean. Baby twin Hippogriffs." He gave Gerard a meaningful look, because Spencer was a mature adult, and he'd stopped getting starry eyes over the baby Hippogriffs quite some time ago. Really.

"Anyway," he added, "you've been coming out here with me for months and we haven't seen anything." He scratched his chin. "I'm starting to feel cheated. Maybe we're just not going in far enough or whatever? But basically, I still think this is Schechter punishing me for the whole fireworks thing." He nodded just once, decisively. That had been the original point of an argument that had gone on rather longer than he'd meant it to, and he smiled sheepishly at Gerard.

The first few trees loomed up in front of them, unexpected as the Forbidden Forest always managed to be, and Spencer breathed in. All arguments aside, the forest was always a little frightening. Spencer and Gerard were on a mission, though, to spread holiday cheer. If that meant trying to coax a few particularly grumpy pine trees out of the forest, well. Spencer was a professional.

Who: Anyone and everyone!
When: Sunday morning, December 20th
Where: The staff lounge
What: Weekly staff meeting. Let's get this holiday party started!

"So Professor Saporta will be in charge of decorations," Brian concluded, still without any idea of how that had come about, and hoping it hadn't actually been his decision, as he feared it might have been. "Professor Smith can handle the trees, and that should put us in good stead for the end of the week. Hogwarts has a seasonal decoration charm, which I can put into effect now, that should save us all a great deal of trouble."

He cast the charm, the castle recognizing his authority as headmaster and bending neatly to his will. Garlands sprung up around the sideboard, crystal icicles glistened overhead, and a sprig of holly landed neatly on the tea tray. Excellent. "Professor Urie will be accompanying the carolers to..."

Snow began falling lightly in the staff lounge. One the sideboard, a festive wooden reindeer ornament leapt to the floor, charged beneath the table, and dashed through the door with a squeal, singing "FA LA LA LA LA," in a high-pitched festive wooden reindeer voice. As Brian opened his mouth to speak, a shower of miniature candy canes fell out of the air to rain down on everyone's heads.

"For fuck's sake," Brian said. Overhead, a candy cane wobbled loose from its perch on a twinkling icicle and smacked him on the nose. "Keep going," he ordered, pointing back at his staff, and went off down the hallway in a swirl of headmasterly robes, following the singing reindeer.

[Sent Weds afternoon following this exchange]

Spencer,

Just had a drawn out conversation with Adam through owl. He didn't understand why you were angry at him in the painting or why I had told somebody about what happened the other week. I couldn't not explain it all so I did. He's still pretty pissed, but I think it's mostly at me now; you should be in the clear.

Look, I don't know why you told him whatever you did, but if there was/is a problem, I'd appreciate it if you talked to me about it rather than him.

M.

[ one box, containing a very large, fudgey-type cake, and a note. ]

Spencer,

Please accept this cake in apology for making out with your boyfriend. Had I known, I would not have done so.

- Adam

PS: He is forbidden from sharing in Apology Cake.

Who: Audrey and Spencer
When: sometime next week -- after the painting
Where: The Greenhouses
What: catching up

Audrey eyed the greenhouses dubiously. Most of her experiences in Herbology class had consisted of trying to keep the plants as far away from herself as possible. It was always a losing battle. At least today she could be certain no one was going to trip her into a bed of mandrakes, unless Spencer had regressed back to a first year for some bizarre reason.

You have owned your own business for three years, woman, and you are teaching a bunch of teenagers. You can handle a building full of damn plants! It sounded pretty good, but Audrey wasn't certain she believed herself. Teenagers at least didn't pretend to be stationary to lure you to your death, or look all beautiful and then spit poison. On the other hand, plants weren't likely to burst into tears or tell her she wasn't as good as Professor Trohman. And besides, she was going into Spencer's office. Just a quick walk through and she could leave the plants behind her.

Suitably mentally fortified, Audrey flipped her hair back and marched into the main greenhouse. "Spencer? You around? And is anything in here going to try to eat me?"

WHO: Adam and Spencer
WHERE: A warded room in the castle, and then...
WHAT: Strapped in a closetpainting.
WHEN: Wednesday Afternoon (12/2)

Adam was not, in fact, a connoisseur of art. He wouldn't ever be hired on the basis of his art knowledge. Sure, he could draw, and sure, he liked looking at comics and cartoons and things like that, but art? Not so much.

What Adam was, was an expert in dark arts. That's what they'd hired him for, anyway. Well, he supposed. And he had unique experience, so maybe that counted for something. Which was why he was spending his second free hour in two days examining the damn painting that had been found and then locked away from the students because it pretty much oozed dark magic.

In fact, the longer Adam stood there looking at it, so close to the magical residue, the more nauseated he felt. That was fun. And it was worse because not only was there the whole "icky dark magic" feeling, but, well, the painting was boring as hell. It was some terrible Muggle-style job of angels with ridiculously large wings that only very occasionally flapped lethargically. Adam was not impressed. He was even less impressed that this happened to be what he saw, as opposed to what anyone else saw. Which he supposed had something to do with the dark magic. Whatever.

Then Adam realized two things. One, that one of the angels, well, looked a little different from the day before. By the time he realized the second one - that that particular angel looked like him - well, he had wings and was wearing a toga.

Adam was not pleased by this development. The first thing he did was reach for his wand, and - shit, where was his wand? Clearly it was going to be that kind of day. Sucked into an evil painting, wand missing, pants missing. Big, feathery wings.

Actually, the wings were kind of cool.

Who: Mikey, Spencer & William
When: Sunday 22nd Nov
Where: Mikey's Rooms
What: General awkwardness

Mikey sighed and leaned back into his pile of cushions, pushing a stray essay away and smoothing down the covers a little. The bed was comfy and he had Spencer company for the evening and though they were supposedly getting some work done, it was obviously meant to be one of those evenings were they just talked about the possibility of giant invading dungbeetles all night or skipped everything in favour of going straight to bed.

Except they weren't actually doing either. It was just bits of marking punctuated with awkward little stints of conversation. And where ordinarily going over his first years' thoughts on tortoises to teacups wouldn't have been too bad, it was suddenly becoming less and less palatable.

"Hey," he muttered, nudging Spencer's foot with his own. "So apparently someone rigged Schechter's office with fireworks the other week. And then managed to get out with their lives." Or supposedly they had. Either that or the Headmaster had hidden the bodies pretty well.

[to Ryan Ross]

Fuck you.

Who: Mikey and Spencer
When: Monday morning (the 9th -- backdated)
Where: Mikey's rooms
What: Rude awakenings

The bed was really soft, and really warm. Spencer couldn't remember the last time he'd woken up on something like this, and he wasn't particularly interested in trying. It was a waste of enjoying the soft sheets and blankets pulled up high around him, nothing like the grimy pallet on the greenhouse floor that was his usual place of rest. He wasn't even that interested in working out what had happened. If this was the Death Eaters' idea of torture and imprisonment, he was living out the rest of the war here in style.

Also, someone was pressed up warm and comfortable against his back; comfortable, at least, until they shifted slightly, and Spencer groaned. "Ryan," he mumbled. "Watch the fucking elbows, seriously," and that, rather than a mysterious bed, was the thing that woke him up.

Because Ryan wasn't here, of course, hadn't been here for a very long time and also, despite the many complications Ryan fucking Ross had brought to Spencer's life, naked snuggling had not been one of them. Spencer squawked and shuffled backwards and away from the stranger as quickly as he could, rolling over to try and grasp some small idea of what the hell was going on.

Who: William and Spencer
When: Friday, before dinner (13th)
Where: The library
What: Back to school

Spencer's eyebrows were not quite singed off; they weren't even that charred, really. He gave his reflection a satisfied grin before he headed back out into the hallway, keeping a wary lookout for Schechter. He was pretty sure that he couldn't get a detention -- couldn't even get suspended; they didn't suspend teachers, right? -- but he wasn't stupid enough to think he was going to escape the Headmaster's wrath entirely.

The best course of action after setting off highly illegal fireworks in the Headmaster's office was, of course, to split up, so Spencer headed down through the corridors rather than going back immediately to Ryan's rooms. He planned on staying the night there, whether Ryan liked it or not -- evil plants! trying to eat him! -- but until then, he had someone else to catch up with.

"A kid laughed at me when I asked where I'd find you," Spencer announced in a cheerful undertone, pushing his way into the mostly empty library and heading for the desk. "Apparently thinking you'd ever change was a gross show of optimism on all of our behalf."

Who: Ryan and Spencer
When: Friday morning (13/11)
Where: Ryan's rooms
What: Sixteen going on seventeen.

It had been a really weird morning. Spencer had woken up to a note hovering above him that said, in his own handwriting, DON'T FREAK OUT, and then promptly freaked out, because his bed was somewhere strange and unfamiliar and surrounded by about thirty evil looking plants. Spencer wasn't going to admit anything, but it was possible he'd shrieked, grabbed the note, and made a run for the door, only to find himself in quarters that clearly belonged to a teacher. If Ryan had thought it was funny to put him here after he'd fallen asleep, Spencer was going to be really cross.

The note, thankfully, had a bit of an explanation on the back, such as the explanation was. Spencer had a little bit of trouble believing it; it still seemed like an elaborate sort of prank, and Spencer wasn't really that impressed. He was especially unimpressed when he got dressed -- in some robes that were way too big for him, the sleeves covered his hands entirely and he kept tripping over the hem -- and found that he was stuck in the greenhouses, with a ten minute walk before he even got to the castle.

"Hey," he said, pulling aside a fourth year Slytherin when he got in there. "Do you know where Ryan Ross is?"

The fourth year blinked at him. "Professor Ross?" she said, and Spencer stared. "Who wants to know?"

"Um, me," Spencer said. "Spencer Smith, hi."

The girl raised one perfectly plucked eyebrow. "Professor Smith has a beard," she told him icily, and then it took him another ten minutes of arguing that probably, Professor Smith hadn't been born with one and didn't she know about the apparent deaging thing going on before she finally deigned to point him up about a million flights of stairs.

Needless to say, by the time he reached the rooms with Ryan Ross in a little brass plate on the door, Spencer wasn't in the greatest of moods. "Ryan," he said, pushing open the door, "do you have any idea what the fuck is going on? I woke up in the greenhouses. The greenhouses. Surrounded by plants that want to eat me." He knew, they'd clutched at his arms in a very menacing way when he made his escape.

Who: Mikey & Spencer
When: Saturday night
Where: Seventh floor corridor, suspiciously close to the Ancient Rooms classroom & office.
What: NOTHING IN PARTICULAR. LOOK THE OTHER WAY.

Spencer let the light on the end of his wand dim and rounded a corner very, very quietly, sneakers soft on the hard floors. He thought, firmly, here I am, on a walk! As one goes on walks! and then squinted ahead, trying to see which room the light was coming from. When he drew closer, he saw it was just an empty classroom that still had a torch burning, and sighed. He hadn't been up to the Ancient Runes classes before, for obvious reasons, but now he was starting to regret it. It was always harder to get a sense of direction at night.

He wasn't being creepy, he thought, or even intrusive, and he certainly wasn't skulking. He had been out patrolling, and it wasn't his usual night to make the rounds, but a Slytherin Prefect had been sick, and Gabe had been busy. Spencer hadn't been to the Quidditch Game today -- wasn't even entirely sure who had won -- so he figured now was a good a time as any to help out with his House for a little while. And if his patrol had finished half an hour ago, and he was now heading steadily further up into the castle -- well, then, there was no one to see him. Ryan's quarters were probably close by, but Spencer was determined to keep his presence a secret. He just wanted to see, and it was for the good of the castle, anyway. Ryan was really suspicious at the moment. Spencer had the safety of the students and staff at heart.

He was pretty confident he would go undetected, anyway. It was late, he could be quiet when he wanted, and as soon as he worked out which rooms were Ryan's, or Ryan's office, than he could have a quick snoop around and get out of there. He was a master of stealth, which was why it was maybe a little disappointing when someone grabbed his elbow and yanked him into another empty classroom. (That and Spencer was getting tired of being pulled places -- into cupboards, up to his feet in the Great Hall at dinner. It usually only made students snicker at him a lot.)

Thoughts and heart racing, Spencer whispered fiercely, "Master of stealth!" and twisted in the dark, trying to see the new person.

Who: Hayley and Spencer
When: Tuesday evening (backdated to after this)
Where: Hayley's office
What: Old schoolmates catching up and/or mild-mannered interrogation.

The thing was, Spencer liked Hayley. He had been on pretty friendly terms with her when they were in school, simply from spending so much time in the Ravenclaw Common Room, and he thought she was good fun, and generally a nice person. He didn't want to be an unfriendly bastard, and at the very least he wanted to be polite. Nevertheless, he felt that the potential of being a bit of a jerk was looming on the horizon, because Hayley Williams had ruined his evening, and Mikey didn't appreciate his pain. Mikey had gone so far as to laugh at Spencer's complaints, waving him away with an indecently red mouth and his eyes darker than usual, and now Spencer had to go and talk about zombies for a while and not think at all about that noise Mikey had made when Spencer bit just above his collarbone.

He was running late, too, hair rumpled and robes creased, and it probably didn't present the most professional image, especially considering that Hayley had already caught him once today in a cupboard being kissed. Stupid, stupid William, he thought, scowling, and then pulled up short at Hayley's door, running his hands through his hair one last time and sighing.

He knocked on the door, doing his best to appear friendly and ready for counselling or what-have-you, rather than horribly glum and slightly annoyed. To be completely honest to himself, Spencer didn't think he was having a terribly good success rate.

Who: Gerard and Spencer
When: Wednesday morning
Where: Greenhouse #4
What: Little castle, LITTLE CASTLE O' HORRORS, CASTLE DU BASTLE.  (okay, so it doesn't scan right. hush.)

Who: Spencer and Pete
Where: The Great Hall
When: Thursday evening
What: Dinner & Duels

Thursday night was Sticky Date Pudding night, and aversion to eating in the Great Hall or not, there was no way Spencer was going to miss that particular occasion. It had been a reasonably peaceful day, the general attention of his classes moved on from his and William's epic and -- somehow, apparently -- tragic romance to the latest Gryffindor-Slytherin relationship that had gone ka-boom. Aside from stopping the two students in question from killing each other in class, Spencer had had a refreshingly calm day.

Possibly it was a warning for ominous things to come, but Spencer had never been very good at Divination.

William had sent him the first issue of Plants In Peril that afternoon, and Spencer was running through some of the latest theory in it in his head. He was not really prepared, so when someone next to him made a surprised, choking sound, he barely glanced up, and it wasn't until his glass of pumpkin juice was upturned with a certain dramatic air that he really noticed what was going on. Noticed, but didn't understand.

"Um?" Spencer said, plaintively.

[to William Beckett]

Dear William,

Hi! A fifth year Gryffindor just asked me if I was going to duel Pete & Gabe for your hand, and I've been warned by three Hufflepuffs that my stakes in aforementioned eventual battle aren't good. List of demands for compensation is below.

1. Either redirection of Plants in Peril to me first, library second, or a new subscription just for me (know you can wrangle it out of Schechter better than I).
2. A week's food for a Venomous tentacula. The fresher the better. Am sure you will figure something out.
3. I have some screechsnaps in need of repotting. Generally leave it to the NEWT students with patience looking for extra credit, but I think they can be spared this time.
4. Whatever shampoo you've been using.

With affection, etc. etc.

SS.

[to Mikey Way]

Mikey -- more later, but please please please don't listen to anything you might be hearing right now about me and cupboards and things. Ministry Officials & William without caffeine not a good combination, will make it up to you, promise. Spencer x

ps. If there's anything you'd like from William, please do let me know.

Who: William, Spencer, and Hayley
When: Mid-morning on Tuesday, break between classes.
Where: Fourth floor corridor
What: A dignified retreat

The day's teaching was off to an -- interesting start. Spencer had spent a fun forty-five minutes pulling Gryffindor and Slytherin firsties apart, wondering how on earth there could be this much vehemence between houses so early in the year. Had the Quidditch teams started training yet? Possibly there was a good explanation for it there, although not one satisfying enough to stop Spencer from issuing a dozen kids with detention for deciding that an appropriate measure to take in the argument involved throwing massive handfuls of mud at each other, much to the Dwittle Tree's dismay. He had NEWT kids next, at least, where early in the year meant that they were still frightened enough of the end of the year to be diligent in their studies. He was pretty sure he'd accidentally left a book in one of the empty classrooms up this way, though, in a tutoring session with a fifth year Ravenclaw, so he was giving up the normal cup of coffee at this hour to go looking for it.

The fourth floor corridor seemed a little more mysterious than usual, was the thing. Spencer wasn't sure if it was the unknown redheaded woman talking energetically to someone down at the other end, her back turned to him -- and she seemed really weirdly familiar -- or the broom cupboard that was making faint, rattling noises and apologetic huffs about a metre away from him.

Spencer squinted again down the corridor, wondering uneasily if everyone knew that the stranger was here and all was well and safe, or if maybe he should let Gerard or Schechter or someone know. Then she turned, slightly, and Spencer gaped -- was that Hayley Williams? Holy shit! he thought, wondering how many more of his old schoolfriends were going to turn up as potential colleagues or what-have-you. He was just about to go and make sure, mysterious rattling cupboard be damned, when the aforementioned cupboard started speaking.

Spencer supposed that kind of won out on the "which to investigate first" scale.