The following morning, Callidus met up with the other Slytherin first years in the Great Hall. When he arrived, the others were already seated, and he took his usual spot next to Harry.
"Morning Cal," Harry grinned. "You're looking better."
Before Callidus could respond, Greengrass taunted: "I heard you nearly got defeated by a chair, Prince."
There were snickers of amusement from the others. But their eyes turned towards him, awaiting his response with raised eyebrows and expectant expressions.
"Were you up all night worrying about me, Greengrass? It must have been bad because your beauty spell seems to be slipping. I can see the dark circles under your eyes," Callidus replied with a mocking smile.
He wasn't sure if he had scored a hit, but when Greengrass foolishly lifted her hands to her face, he knew he had gotten her. It was a lucky guess that she actually used beauty spells. When the other Slytherins started to laugh, Greengrass flushed to an angry shade of red.
"So what actually happened?" Zabini asked, in his smooth voice. The dark boy was so self-possessed that he barely even sounded curious.
"Was it the Weasley twins?" Nott asked. Greengrass shot Nott an angry glare, as though angry at his interest. Nott bit his lip and looked down at his food. The rest of the Slytherins looked towards the Gryffindor table, where the prankster twins sat. But if it was the Weasley twins, they showed no reaction.
Callidus shrugged. "No idea."
"Whoever did it, they'll regret messing with the Slytherins," Millicent Bulstrode said threateningly. Her words were emphasized by the rather aggressive way she stabbed the bangers on her plate.
Callidus was surprised by her statement. His time spent in the muggle primary school and predisposed him to seeing the worse in people, and as a result, he had formed a rather low opinion of Bulstrode's intelligence. Hearing her support of him made him feel guilty, and he felt a pang of awareness that his own preconceptions prevented him from seeing the different facets of the people around him. He gave the heavyset girl a weak smile in appreciation. She nodded, as she stuck the banger in her mouth, and chewed with a hard-eyed fierceness. Now that he thought about it, Bulstrode actually was a bit intimidating. It was easy to underestimate the big girl, when one saw her in the common room, cuddling her pet cat.
"It was probably a Gryffindor," Nott speculated, ignoring Greengrass's vexed looks.
"It wouldn't have been a first year. We were all in detention," Parkinson said. She looked towards Callidus, her expression sly. "Do you have any enemies you haven't told us about, Cal?"
Callidus gritted his teeth. He hated being called 'Cal' by anyone other than Harry. And maybe Hagrid. "Not that I'm aware of, Pans."
"Maybe it was Granger, trying to take out the competition," Zabini said, through half-lidded eyes.
Parkinson whooped with glee. "I should have thought of that sooner! Have any of you noticed her face when Slughorn calls on Cal instead of Granger in class? I swear, she looks like someone's feeding her a spoonful of vinegar, every time it happens."
"It wasn't Granger," Callidus ground out. This caused all the Slytherins looked at him with surprise. For several of them, the surprise became calculating consideration, and he knew he had made a mistake.
"She's too much of a goody-good Gryffindor," Callidus added, trying to cover up his slip.
Parkinson smiled lazily. "True." She looked like a kneazle that had just gotten away with eating someone's pet golden snidget. Zabini, and even Malfoy wore the same expression. It took all of Callidus's effort to keep his expression neutral, instead of scowling.
Since it was Friday, they had double Potions with Slughorn. Callidus usually enjoyed Potions (even if the first year material was very basic). But every time Slughorn called on him, the Slytherins would conspicuously look towards Granger. Callidus was clenching his jaw so hard, he was surprised that his teeth hadn't cracked. Even Harry was looking at Granger, but in Harry's case, it was simple curiosity, rather than Slytherin slyness.
"She really does look like someone's feeding her vinegar!" Harry whispered to Callidus. Malfoy and Zabini, who sat in front of them, could barely muffle their snorts, causing Slughorn to notice their amusement. To Callidus's immeasurable relief, Slughorn only gave them a perplexed smile before continuing his lesson.
The Slytherins were so obvious that even Granger had noticed. The bushy-haired girl kept looking at him with confusion, before pursing her lips, and turning towards the front of the class. Callidus both longed for Potions to end, and yet dreaded it.
As he anticipated, the Slytherin first years took delight in ribbing him once they were out of class and it was only through sheer effort that Callidus remained unresponsive. Unable to get a rise out of him, the other students finally let the matter go, and spoke of other things. The group of them made their way down to the Slytherin dungeons. Callidus, Harry and Malfoy sat in their usual spot, joined by Davis and Parkinson.
For the past two week, Malfoy had been attempting to teach Harry how to play wizard's chess. Thus, the pair of them settled down to a quiet game. In ability, Malfoy and Callidus were comparable. They had played together once, when Harry had asked for a demonstration. But for the most part, they avoided direct interactions. Callidus sometimes thought that Malfoy liked playing against Harry because Malfoy liked winning, so it was fortunate then that Harry was never troubled by losing.
Callidus was half listening to Parkinson and Davis gossiping about a fourth year ("Apparently, her parents disowned her when they found out she was dating a penniless 'Puff, even though she was already betrothed to a boy from Durmstrang.") He was also half reading a book on Potion bases, when it occurred to him that he had meant to stop by the library. He wanted to see if there was any validity to his hypothesis that Dumbledore was a mind-reader.
"I'm going to head off to the library," Callidus informed Harry, who smiled and nodded. He avoided looking at Malfoy (but if he had, he would have seen a wide smirk.)
As Callidus stood and crossed the common room, he was intercepted by the handsome Wystan Overcliff.
"Callidus," Wystan called out, his mossy green eyes creased in a warm smile. "I finished looking over your paper."
"Already?" Callidus asked with surprise. He had only just given Wystan the paper yesterday morning. Wystan flashed his white teeth in a bright grin, pulling the marked essay out of his satchel, handing the parchment back to Callidus.
"My comments are in green ink," Wystan continued.
"Oh! Thank you, Wystan."
"Snape - our old Head of House - used to use blood red ink whilst marking," Wystan said, conversationally. "Quite liberally, I might add. I kind of his miss his sharp comments. Slughorn is nowhere near as cutting. Are you heading out?"
It was odd and unsettling to hear about his past-self from the other student. Whoever that Severus Snape had been felt like a stranger to Callidus.
"I just wanted to see if I could find something at the library," Callidus replied.
"Ah. I'll walk with you then," Wystan said tilting his head invitingly towards the exit. "My girlfriend's probably there anyway. You know how Ravenclaws are. And I wanted to discuss your paper."
The filed out of the common room exit and turned into the torch-lit corridor.
"When you mentioned that you were planning to write your paper on ingredient preparation, I thought I was in for a dry simplistic read," Wystan remarked. "I mean, if it had been a simplistic read, I still would have taken it seriously - it's not as though I expect to be bowled over by a first year essay. But there are things you've written about that aren't even covered in any of our classes. I used a question mark to denote anything that was beyond my expertise and underlined anything that needed correction. Not that I'm saying I didn't understand what you were writing - it's just that you'll have to get old Sluggy to clarify some of the concepts. Some of what you researched is still theoretical. You seem to have a good grasp on basics and theory, but there's definitely a few things where you made incorrect assumptions. Still impressive though."
Wystan looked over Callidus with appraising glance. "Slughorn mentioned you were aiming to get your Potions mastery at nineteen." Wystan's lip curled up in a smile. "Our old Head of House got his at twenty. Has anyone mentioned that you kind of resemble him? Are you a relation of Snape's?"
Callidus had no idea how to answer that. "Um - distantly, I think," Callidus lied, keeping his eyes straight ahead rather than facing Wystan. They turned a corner and walked up a set of narrow, curving stairs.
Wystan chuckled with good-humour. "It wouldn't surprise me if someone told me you were his son. But Snape never had children of his own. Not that I know of anyway. Anyhow, I thought what you wrote about preparing ingredients by soaking them in magical spring water was interesting. Especially since water doesn't always carry magic very well. Magical springs are quite rare. I heard of one spring in the Himalayas that apparently causes profound mental clarity when you drink it. It even affects muggles - enlightenment, they call it. At least I think that was what it was."
"It surprised me that you didn't jump into practical work immediately," Wystan continued. "Most people would be eager to start brewing, rather than laying out the foundations. Admirable, really. Anyhow, how are you liking Slytherin House so far? Enjoying the snake pit?" Wystan's expression was inquiring. His interest seemed genuine.
Callidus hummed. "It's - a little like navigating your way through a nest of scorpions. In the dark."
Wystan threw his head back and laughed. "That's one way of putting it. It keeps you sharp though. Sometimes I feel like the students in the other Houses only survive through sheer dumb luck. It sometimes amazes me that other people don't realize how vulnerable they are at every moment. All it takes is a single well aimed spell, and Bam! You're dead."
Callidus looked up at Wystan in surprise. Wystan's lip curled up at the corner. "Ha! I get that look all the time. People have a tendency to forget that I'm still a Slytherin at heart. Even if I don't alway seem like one. I think one of the biggest weaknesses of a lot of the Slytherins is that they don't work enough on their 'public' face. Oh, I know that most Slytherins'll be all refined and polished around other purebloods. But then they'll show an entirely different side of themselves to muggleborns and half-bloods. I always thought that was stupid."
"A mask only works it if's complete," Wystan continued. "And a goal is easier to achieve when you have allies rather than enemies. If you only have one or two enemies, it's easier to crush them. If half the population is your enemy, your odds are pretty bad. It's always been my philosophy that enemies should be eliminated and crushed completely."
Wystan's eyes glittered as he smiled, and Callidus shivered. "You look rather pale," Wystan laughed. "Don't worry, I don't have any enemies at the moment, and I prefer to keep it that way. I like you Callidus. I get the sense that we can be good friends."
They turned another corner that led to the library entrance. "Anyway, you'll be using the Potions lab next week?"
"Yeah," Callidus replied, stopping at the entrance of the library. "A Hiccoughing Solution."
Wystan's expression was thoughtful. "Good choice. It's a complex and finicky potion, but not dangerous to brew. I look forward to seeing your efforts. Oh, there's Calanthe! I'll talk to you later then, Callidus."
Callidus nodded. Wystan turned and wove his way through the library tables to where his girlfriend was sitting, while Callidus ventured through the aisles of the library, trying to find anything he could related to mind-reading. He did a quick, cursory search and then a second, more through one. To his surprise, he failed to find anything. Did that mean mind-reading didn't exist? He decided to ask the librarian, Madam Pince.
Madam Irma Pince had parchment like skin, sallow cheeks and a hooked nose. Her complexion was even worse than his own. As Callidus walked up to her desk, she frowned irritably. The closer he got, the more her eyes glittered with hostility. He considered veering away, but he forced himself forward. Trying not to squeak, he asked her if the library had any books about mind-reading.
"Do you have a signed note, boy?" Madam Pince asked, glaring down at Callidus as though he were a disgusting beetle.
"Note?"
"No note, no access to the Restricted Section," the librarian said with a nasty edge to her voice. She looked away, as though she couldn't stand the sight of him anymore.
Uncomfortable with the woman's rather hateful demeanour, Callidus ambled off, deciding to return to the Slytherin dungeons. Madam Pince hadn't been particularly helpful, but at least he a clue. He didn't know what mind-reading magic might be called, but he learned that it existed, and there was information about it in the restricted section.
After the exploding chair incident, Callidus's interactions with Granger changed - at least they did in detentions with Flitwick. Outside of detention, and even during flying lessons, their exchanges (or lack thereof) remained the same. Within Flitwick's classroom, instead of complete silence, they said things like "Hi" and "Hello." Sometimes, there was even a "How are things?" There was also the occasional "What did you write about wrist flexibility for that charms essay?" or "Did you also include the concentration variable in the transfiguration equation?"
Callidus could tell that Granger often wanted to say something more to him, but she held herself back. She was the sort of girl where one could almost literally see the thoughts flying in her head. Granger was sharp-witted and observant and there was a possibility that Callidus respected her. But this was something that no one needed to know. Not even Granger.
In truth, there were things he wanted to say to Granger as well. He didn't care about her background or her life, but he had a feeling that if he let himself open up to her, the two of them could have some interesting intellectual debates. But she was a Gryffindor, and he was a Slytherin. And unlike someone like Malfoy, he wasn't high enough on the Slytherin hierarchy to get away with breaking Slytherin norms.
September passed into early October. The weather was still nice enough that a large majority of the students spent their weekends outdoors and the Slytherin first years were no exception. A favourite haunt of many of the Slytherins was a courtyard known as the Quad. The courtyard was walled in with a tower at each corner. There were stone benches where students could sit, and a balcony ringed the perimeter of the courtyard. To a rich pureblood like Malfoy, the Quad might bright to mind a similitude of a ballroom - it was a place that the Slytherins went to see and be seen.
The Quad was where Callidus, Harry and several of the other first years gathered, when Harry wasn't flying with Malfoy (sometimes joined by Davis and Finnigan, sometimes not). Harry and Malfoy rarely ever flew for more than two hour long stretches. During that time, Callidus usually went to the library. He could have just done his reading or homework in the Slytherin dungeons, but more often than not, he headed over the library. Granger was almost always there, and he would give her a civil nod, before sitting down at a different table. He never spoke to her in the library, and she in turn, never spoke to him.
It was a crisp and lovely Sunday afternoon. The blue sky was broken by tiger-stripe like clouds in long parallel lines. Callidus, Harry and Malfoy were in the Quad, and for once, they weren't joined by any of the other first years. It would have been even better if Malfoy were gone, but Callidus supposed that one couldn't have everything.
"I'm so tired of learning theory," Harry griped. Harry was sitting cross-legged on the paved stone floor, next to Callidus. Across from them, Malfoy sat on one of the stone benches, probably enjoying his elevated seat. Of course, Malfoy complained that Harry's position was undignified. Harry just rolled his eyes and ignored him.
"When are we going to do more wand-work?" Harry continued. "It's not as though Merlin sat around studying theory."
"Merlin was an extremely learned man," Callidus said. "And books usually omit the boring parts, like the hours that Merlin probably spent studying."
At this, Harry frowned. "What about druids then? Did they even have writing during those times?"
"Runes, I imagine," Malfoy said. "Back then, magic wasn't like what it is now. There was more wild magic and earth magic. Wild magic and earth magic are both notoriously difficult to control. Many of the Ancient Families still remember some of the Old Ways. I know the Malfoys have some very old manuscripts about ancient magical rituals. Even if the Ancient Families don't practice the older magics, we still continue many of the traditions. None of this muggle rubbish."
"Muggle rubbish?" Harry's lips turned downwards, ready to be offended.
"I don't mean it like that!" Malfoy exclaimed. "It's just -" Malfoy's expression was thoughtful, as he tried to organize his beliefs. "Wizarding tradition is being forgotten. Things that we've been doing for centuries are disappearing. Witches and wizards aren't muggles."
Malfoy's explanation did not seem to clear anything up for Harry, who just raised his eyebrows.
"Are you talking about the old festivals, like Beltane, Samhain and Yule?" Callidus asked.
"Among other things. Hallowe'en, Christmas and Easter are muggle traditions."
"I never celebrated any of them, even when I was living with muggles," Harry said. He seemed distant for a brief moment. "You think the holidays are muggle rubbish?"
"The old festivals mean something," Malfoy said, side-stepping Harry's question. "They're not just about a feast and some colourful decorations. They're a homage to the earth where our magic came from. Or they mark the passage of the sun and stars. My father could tell you all about it. He's very traditional. Anyway, I didn't intend to get into a discussion about festivals."
Harry hummed, his expression contemplative. He stared up at one of the balconies before his gaze drifted back to Malfoy. "How do you learn earth magic or wild magic?"
"It's not exactly something you learn." Malfoy knitted his brow, sitting forward. "Accidental magic - the kind you do before you start school - is a type of wild magic."
"But I couldn't control that," Harry pointed out.
"Just so," Malfoy continued. "Wild magic is often like that. I don't know if there are witches and wizards that can control wild magic. Not that I've heard of. But there are forms of magic between wild magic and modern magic. Earth magic is kind of like that. My father would know more about it. He's always advocated the Old Ways. I suppose I could write and ask him more about it. He might send me some books if I ask. Some of the old magics are more intuitive - not at all like the precise magic we learn at Hogwarts."
"You forgot to add dangerous," Callidus drawled, giving Malfoy a challenging look.
Malfoy huffed. "Well - yes - old magic is often dangerous. But it's powerful magic if you're capable of doing it." Malfoy's grey eyes glittered with a hint of ambition.
"That sounds really interesting!" Harry exclaimed. Unfortunately, danger was never a deterrent for Harry. "What other old magics are there?"
Malfoy hummed, a self-satisfied smile on his face. He gave Callidus a look that said: 'Harry finds me more interesting than he finds you.'
Callidus rolled his eyes. But in truth, Malfoy did know much more about ancient magic than Callidus did. The Prince family likely knew just as much when the bloodline was still extant and powerful. The things that Malfoy was explaining to them were the things that had given Eileen Prince/Snape her sense of pride in who she was. As much as it annoyed him, Callidus was eager to hear what Malfoy had to say.
"A lot of the very Old Ways used sacrificial magic - er - that's animal sacrifices and such," Malfoy explained. "You can imagine why that lost its popularity. But viscera and blood in general have a great deal of power. That's why animal and insect parts are often used in potions. And there are still blood rituals that don't involve killing anything. Like blood brotherhoods, or identification magic, which the goblins use at Gringotts."
"Blood brotherhood? Is that like a cult?"
"Come again? Cult?" Malfoy looked bewildered. "No. It's like - if you have a friend who isn't related to you, but you want to bind them as family."
"Blood brothers!" Harry exclaimed. "We should do that!"
Malfoy and Callidus both looked at Harry with surprise. Though in truth, neither of them should have been so startled. In the month or so that they had gotten to know Harry, both of them had noticed Harry's impulsive nature.
"Shouldn't you at least ask what a blood brotherhood entails?" Callidus said to Harry.
Both Harry and Callidus looked at Malfoy expectantly.
"I don't recall all the details - I read about it in our library at the Manor years ago," Malfoy began, though his voice quickly took on a lofty tone. "Wizards that choose to undergo the blood brotherhood ritual will have a bond closer than that of brothers. It is a magical oath to never betray one another. A blood brother that betrays his bonded kin will suffer 'the anguish of heartbreak and the deepest dishonour.' I asked my father if the heartbreak meant that your heart will actually break, but he wasn't sure. With these old spells, it's quite possible. Father said he isn't aware of anyone who has done the blood brotherhood ritual in recent times. I suppose the risk is too high - heartbreak and all that."
"How can someone die of heartbreak? Isn't that just a feeling?" Harry asked, his face scrunched up.
"Of course not!" Malfoy exclaimed. "Well, it can mean both, I suppose - a feeling and a way of dying. One of my ancient ancestors died of heartbreak. In fact, his portrait is hanging in our portrait gallery. I asked him about it once - he said it was horribly painful. Like his heart was being shattered into a million pieces. And then he was dead."
Harry frowned. "That sounds - awful."
"Years ago, I thought it would be a brilliant idea to use the blood brotherhood ritual to bind Crabbe and Goyle," Malfoy confided. "When my father found out, he was furious. I suppose in retrospect that I'm glad Crabbe and Goyle aren't my blood brothers."
"I wish I had a brother. Or brothers," Harry said wistfully. In truth, Callidus and even Malfoy felt the same way. None of them had siblings after all.
"How does the ritual work?" Harry asked. Callidus shot him a suspicious glance, and even Malfoy's expression was calculating.
"Most old magics are very simple," Malfoy explained. "Intent is usually the most important factor. Aside from that, you have to mingle your blood - even a simple prick on your finger would do. In the old days, you usually had to do it at certain locations, like at ley lines or nodes, or under the full or new moon. But with modern wands, it's easier to channel the magic. Either way, old magic is finicky. It tends to submit to the will of wizards who have the most power." Malfoy shrugged.
Callidus considered Malfoy's explanation. He had a feeling that between the three of them, Harry was the most powerful wizard, however, Malfoy didn't know this. Despite the risks, it was easy to see that Harry was taken by the whole idea. But unlike Harry, Callidus felt uneasy about the idea of a brotherhood bond. He might wish that Harry actually was his brother, but using an ancient blood ritual didn't necessarily seem like the best way to strengthen a relationship. There was too much that could go wrong. It was fortunate that Malfoy looked just as wary of the whole idea as Callidus. As much as all of them might crave brotherhood, it seemed best if Harry were to forget the whole idea.
Later in the afternoon, the trio ventured towards the edge of the Forest to visit Hagrid at his hut. Callidus and Harry were both eager to see the half-giant, but Malfoy was dragging his feet. Before they even caught sight of Hagrid, Fang, the boarhound, came bounding towards them. The immense black dog's tail wagged with wild enthusiasm and he leaped at Malfoy, slobbing everywhere.
"Ack! Blasted cur!" Malfoy exclaimed, trying to hold the dog at arm's length. Harry grinned at his friend. Meanwhile Callidus smirked to see Malfoy's inability to maintain his hauteur while covered in dog drool.
When Fang's excitement had mellowed enough that he could keep all four paws on the ground, the boys continued towards Hagrid's hut. They found the half-giant tending his pumpkin patch, and when he saw them, his black eyes crinkled with welcome.
"Hullo, you three!" Hagrid called out.
"Hi Hagrid," Harry and Cal replied, while Malfoy gave a small, snooty nod.
"How've yeh bin?" the half-giant asked, as he checked his pumpkins for leafminers and other pests.
Each of them gave Hagrid their response (though Malfoy was rather chilly as he said "quite well, thank you.")
"What are the pumpkins for?" Harry asked. "Hallowe'en?"
Hagrid responded with a bright nod. "Tha's right. Though they've got a few weeks o' growing yet."
As Harry and Hagrid chattered, Malfoy absently scratched Fang behind the ear. The blond's expression was pensive. Was it the mention of Hallowe'en? Callidus wasn't certain whether the pumpkins were a muggle or magical tradition.
Though he would never say it to Malfoy's face, the blond had sparked Callidus's interest in old magic. Even if it was crude in comparison to modern magic, it was still worth exploring, and Callidus didn't doubt that old magic had a great deal of power. In some cases, one had to channel magic from an external source, such as the case of earth magics. But from Callidus's limited understanding, he knew that such methods were often fatal.
After looking over all his pumpkins (some of which looked bigger than him and Harry combined if they scrunched into balls), Hagrid invited them into his hut for tea. He had made treacle fudge, which tasted quite good, but it also contained unidentified bits of green flecks. Hagrid also offered to make them stoat sandwiches, but even Harry refused that.
As the three of them headed back to the Slytherin dungeons in the early evening, Malfoy spoke.
"Pumpkins are a muggle perversion of Samhain," he said. "The use of pumpkins was something that was started in the New World."
Harry hummed. "The whole thing is a bit odd, isn't it? But I always thought that pumpkin pie smelled delicious. My aunt used to make it, but I was never allowed to have any."
Callidus and Malfoy frowned. It was rather depressing to consider ill-treatment at the hands of muggles (for either Harry or Callidus).
"I imagine they'll serve it at the Hallowe'en feast," Callidus said.
"So no one ever used pumpkins for Hallowe'en until the Americans?" Harry asked.
Malfoy grimaced. "Well, in the Old World, the muggles used turnips. Witches and Wizards use magical flames and magical bonfires, of course. There are special flames for the various festivals which each have special significance. Samhain is one of the most magical periods of the year. During ancient times, before wands were common, druids, shamans, sorcerers and seers would enact their most important spells on Samhain. It's both the best and most dangerous time to work earth magic. There's a reason that both wizards and muggles regard Samhain as a festival of the dead."
Callidus and Harry listened with interest. "What do you usually do for Samhain?"
"My father and mother, and some of their old family friends will usually have a Samhain bonfire," Malfoy explained. "There are some old magic rituals that can further thin the boundaries between our world, and the world of the fey or of other spirits. But in our times, it has become increasingly rare to ever catch sight of the fey. Some believe that they're gone forever. Before the Statute of Wizarding Secrecy, the muggles used to try and mimic wizarding magic with guising and mumming."
Malfoy frowned. "It will be strange, not to celebrate Samhain this year. It's my mother's favourite festival. She would always say that Samhain made her feel like a brand new person every year."
"Can't you celebrate it here? We could try our own Samhain, couldn't we, Cal? There's probably books about it in the library," Harry said.
The corner of Callidus's lip quirked upwards. "Are you actually suggesting going to the library, Harry?"
Harry rolled his eyes, but there was a hint of an amused smile. "More like pointing out the inevitable."
A/N: I appreciate the reviews, follows and favourites.
The second half of this section took forever to write. I didn't really intend to get into pagan holidays - at least not too deeply. But it works for the story, I suppose.
I've been a bit stressed about this story lately. I keep worrying that I've let it get out of control (well - I'm currently writing January). It's too easy to get swept up by details and small events sometimes, or occasionally, things that I didn't mean to happen just happen. I have my outline plotted, but I keep having to alter it to account for all the unexpected turns. Sometimes I want the characters to do one thing, but they seemed determined to do something else :P