11/20/1989

Snape was in a foul mood. His attempts at making O'Connor's tracking spell were not going as he had planned. Avenseguim could be used to return the canister to its owner but they didn't know exactly where in the States the group was. If they lost sight of the thermos they would right be back where they started. Modifying Avenseguim to work more like the Four-Point spell was proving to be difficult since he had so little of the group's signature to work with. The same went for the Steam as well. Especially since he was trying to track the type of energy rather than the person it came from.

Perhaps O'Connor will have something else they may have come into contact with. She never did say how they caught wind of them this summer. It's not like missing children are uncommon. They must have a way they're finding them.

Snape stopped outside O'Connor's door and rapped his knuckles lightly on the wood. He waited a moment, but there was no call to enter. His eyebrows drew down. She may have forgotten about their chess match, for reasons he didn't care to ask about, but it would be extremely out of character for her to forget about their Monday morning meetings. He turned the doorknob.

Praesidium

There was no pushback telling him she wasn't inside and he opened the door. The office was quiet and empty. It looked like she hadn't even been in it. There were no assignments on the desk and her tea set and cloche were missing. She always had them out and waiting. It was like an obsession for her to offer her guests food and drink. He shoved down the small sense of apprehension at the strange behaviour and crossed to her bedroom door.

"O'Connor?"

His knuckles had barely grazed the wood when he heard a small whimpering groan issue from somewhere around her desk. He froze, not sure he'd actually heard the sound, and then moved towards it. O'Connor was huddled half under her desk and curled in the fetal position. She was pale and sweating and hadn't even gotten out of her pajamas yet; flannel pants, a tank top, and a silk robe. A jolt went through him and he quickly knelt at her side.

"What happened O'Connor? Are you injured?"

She shook her head, curling in on herself even more.

"Are you sick? You have to tell me what's wrong or I can't help you." He squeezed her shoulder and tried to get her to look at him.

"You can't help." She groaned. "I ran out of my grandmother's potion."

"What potion?"

"I have endometriosis. She makes me something to curb it when it's bad. I forgot to tell her I was out." A grin suddenly split her face despite the pain and she gave him a cheeky look. "Do you know what that even is?"

"Yes I know." He snapped. "You based our ruse off a potion you actually need."

She nodded and groaned again.

"What does the potion do?"

"It's a pain reliever and it minimizes the lesions. I've never had anything better."

"I will try to replicate it until she can send you more." Snape moved carefully, slipping his arms under her and gingerly lifting her from the floor. She was dead weight, unable to unfurl herself, and it made it slightly awkward to carry her. He settled O'Connor carefully on her bed and reached into one of his inner pockets.

"How did you end up under your desk?"

She accepted the vial he handed her, the scent telling her it was a pain reliever.

"It didn't seem like it was going to be bad at first. Sometimes I get a reprieve. Then the pain started to hit. I thought if I sat for a minute it might pass, stupidity on my part." She handed him back the empty vial. "Do you have a little bit of everything in that cloak?"

"I'm a Head of House and the Potions Master. I make sure I have whatever my students may ask for."

O'Connor nodded, grimaced, and curled up.

"It should take affect soon. I shall inform the Headmaster that your classes will need to be cancelled for the day." He got her a glass of water and called one of the House Elves to keep an eye on her. "I will return with the potion as soon as I am able. If you need any more pain reliever just have Coco come and let me know. Is there anything else you may need?"

"I should be good for now. Can you just help me out of my robe and under the covers?"

He nodded stiffly and once she was covered she smiled gratefully. Her color had returned somewhat in the last few moments.

"Thank you, Snape. I really appreciate it." He nodded awkwardly, looking somewhat unsure of himself. Then he nodded again and swept from the room. O'Connor grinned and snuggled deeper into her blankets.

"He really has a hard time showing people his nice side, doesn't he?"

Coco gave a small smile.

"Professor Snape is like an onion, miss."

"An onion?" She stared at the little elf looking surprised.

"Yes. Coco is knowing Professor Snape since he was a student. Professor Snape is not having a good life miss. He is building up layers to protect hisself."

"I see." Abigail massaged her lower abdomen as she thought. "And if I were to try and peel back the layers to see what lay beneath; what might I find?"

"Coco is not knowing anymore, but Coco is hoping you is able to. Most people doesn't try. Professor Snape is too good at keeping people at a distance."

"Do you know why he does it?"

"When a wizard does not often receive kindness miss, they is finding it hard to trust when they do. Coco is thinking Professor Snape is angry and sad and lonely. He is burying that very deep though. Layers, miss."

"Well Coco, I think I want to see what's beneath those layers." Abigail buried her face in her pillow feeling drowsy.

"Coco is wishing you luck miss."

"How do you know so much about Snape, Coco? You guys don't usually talk to the students very often, do you?"

"Coco is telling you enough for now. Professor Snape, sir, would not want me talking of his past too much."

She smiled at the elf. The small creature was very matronly and apparently very loyal to the dour potions master.

Perhaps I'll get to hear the story behind all this someday.

I swear Professor Flitwick has it out for me. It seems like no matter how hard I try I just score anything better than a Poor on my homework. Jane even helped me and I still couldn't scrape a passing grade this morning. Then, he wouldn't pick me for soprano this afternoon at chorus tryouts. I practiced all summer and I know I can hit the notes. Even with Camilla in St. Mungo's I still can't win. Flitwick's just holding a grudge because of last year when I accidentally set my desk on fire and nearly burned down the classroom.

I hate Charms. Why can't it be more like Transfiguration? You don't need any fancy wand movements or frilly words for that. Potions and Herbology are even better. Who cares about magical theory and all that nonsense? If I can say the words and flick my wand why do I need to worry about the "theory" behind it? I wish I could drop Charms now instead of at the end of the year! I don't even need it to open my own Apothecary.

11/24/1989

It was nearly seven by the time Justin Thornhill and Mark Thomas finished cleaning and reorganizing the shelves in the Charms classroom. The two Gryffindor boys had been tugging the braids of the girls in front of them. It was innocent teasing of boys too shy to speak to the girls they like, but Filius did not tolerate such things; if they wanted a girl's attention that was not the way to go about it. He had given them a stern lecture on such things then set them to their tasks.

"Now, I hope you boys will find a much more appropriate way to speak to Miss Cruz and Miss Rosewater in the future."

"Yes, sir."

"Sorry, sir."

"It's not me that you need to apologize to. Now, off to the dorms with you."

They scurried off in a hurry, eager to get back to their friends. Filius sighed with a small smile and shook his head. Teenagers. He had a feeling this year was going to be a bad year for hormonal teenagers. He'd already caught three couples snogging in the corridors between classes and they were still a little over two months away from Valentine's Day. Eager to get back to his own quarters, he headed for his desk to put away his paperwork. I nice snifter of brandy and a good book sounded wonderful right about now.

Halfway to his desk a woman's sultry chuckle drifted through the room. Filius turned on the spot, the fine hairs on his neck and arms standing on end. Something about that laugh had seemed sinister. The flames in the sconces around his room brightened as he raised his wand. There was no one in the doorway and as far as he could tell no one in the room. Was someone playing a joke on him?

The laugh came again, deeper, darker, and just as sultry as before.

"Is someone playing tricks?" No one answered.

"Homenum Revelio."

He was the only one in the room.

"Peeves I'm not in the mood. If you don't reveal yourself at once I'll go straight to the Blood Baron; same for anyone else. I'm too tired for games tonight."

The laugh came again, higher this time and sounding fairly amused. It seemed to come from all corners of the room and he couldn't pinpoint the source. A chill ghosted down his spine just as one of the bookcases shuddered. He barely had time to move as the one to his left tipped forward. With a strangled squeak he rolled out of the way. The large piece of furniture thundered to the ground with enough force to shake the floor and rattle the items on his desk.

"What the devil is going on here?!"

He had no time to ponder his circumstances. The case to his right vibrated violently before pitching forward. With another strangled yell he did the only thing he could. He rolled left and hoped the space between the two bookcases was large enough. The bang was even louder than the first and sent up a cloud of dust from the stone floors. Filius lay still as the dust settled and the deep sultry laugh echoed away into dark. His sconces had gone out, snuffed by the cloud of dust.

"Filius! Filius what's happened?! Are you all right?!" Minerva's terrified voice filtered into the classroom as she approached. The new Defense teacher Michael Farrow followed close behind her.

" Filius are you in here? Are you hurt?" He called out.

"I'm here."

The torches flared to life and they entered the room.

"Filius where are you?"

"Between the shelves." He sat up, his hair and robes covered in a fine layer of stone dust.

"Oh my god!" They hurried over, Michael helping him from the floor. "What happened?"

Minerva was very white in the face.

"I'm unhurt. Just startled." He reassured them. "I'm not sure what happened Minerva, but I feel we may have an unknown ghost or Poltergeist in the castle."

"What do you mean?" Michael asked.

"There was a woman's laugh. I tried revealing who was in the room but I was the only person here. I tell you though, there was a woman laughing. It was very deep and quite dark sounding. I heard it again after the cases fell."

"I will have Albus speak to the other ghosts at once and see if they know anything about it." Minerva said. "The students could be in danger if it's this bold."

"Do you think it could be responsible for Miss Whitehall?"

"I've never heard of a ghost or poltergeist that could do such a thing, but we cannot rule out the possibility at this point." Michael said. He waved his wand and righted the shelves and their belongings. "I'll begin researching at once."

"We must be discreet about this until we know more. We don't want the students panicking." Minerva cautioned. The two wizards nodded.

"Agreed."