Wait, so the Opening Ceremony happens at night, right?
I clearly remember that the Ceremony was at night, which means more shenanigans for the CorpseWalker AU.
*rubs my gay little hands together* mmmmm, yes, more story material...
(Short-ish??? Story in the undercut. Idk, man, I wrote this in the middle of the night.)
From Beyond The Grave
Dire Crowley stared proudly at the fresh haggle of students in front of him. He felt great potential in all of them, but he also sensed that some of them would be a bit troublesome. Like that newly sorted Heartstabyul student, isn't his name Trapo-something? Ah, nevermind, the crow will just learn his name later.
However.. Why does he feel like something's missing?..
Wait a minute, how many students did the carriages bring today? He could recall there being 37, but there's only 36...
A startling realization hit him.
Ah.
There's a student missing.
=====
Good Seven, Dire, your old age is getting to you.
Crowley cursed to himself as he speedwalked through the halls and towards the Gate Chamber. Oh, how foolish of him to forget one of his students! Did one of the staff not remember to double-check the Gates themselves, or were they simply left behind?
Nevertheless, that student should be grateful, for the great Dire Crowley will be fetching them himself! Ohoho, is he so gracious?
But the more closer he got to the Gates, the more he felt.. uneasy. Like a great tragedy will befall upon him as he went around each corner closer to the Gates. An old crow he may be, but his instincts did not fail him, yet.
One more left turn, and then he smelled it.
The familiar, sour, and awful scent of death and blood.
(The instructor part of Dire screamed at him to move faster, to see if his student was alright. The smell of blood, of death, of misery made him stop walking and made him start running towards the Gates. A student-- a child was in danger, under his watch, and he must save them. Before it was too late, before he was too late.)
=====
The new student was small, Crowley noticed as his lash of love wrapped itself around the unruly cat familiar.
They were even smaller than Perfect Riddle Rosehearts, practically swimming in their oversized ceremonial robes with the sleeves going way past their dainty hands. Their hood cast an eerie shadow over their face, only revealing the lowest half of their face and a few locks of dark hair while their lips were pouted in a small frown.
Yet, despite their petite figure and polite behavior when greeting him, Crowley was still on guard because the thick-- almost suffocating --stench of death oozing around them. However, it would be oh so rude of him to mistreat a student just because of a small inconvenience. (Besides, he was already used to that smell, once upon a time.)
As they scrolled through the gardens and forward to the ceremony, Crowley answered each and every curious question of the new student. Their cluelessness of what kind of school Night Raven College was, and the awe of attending such a prodigious institute was endearing to him, like a fledging trying to learn how to fly. His endearment only grows when he heard the new student told him that they were excited to learn all of the mystical arts.
Ah! Such dedication and willingness! This young fledgling will go along swimmingly with Pomefiore!
=====
Crowley burst through the doors of the Ceremonial hall with his new tiny student in tow, interrupting whatever statement that Perfect Kalim Al-Asim may say. (No, he was not struck in the bathroom! Mind your own business, young sir!)
However, it seemed that during their short talk with each other, the Headmaster somewhat forgot that the bitter stench of death would affect the other non-human students of NRC.
(A small, twisted part of him was slightly relieved at the fact he didn't make up that awful odor. Those days of ash and bloodshed were now far behind him.)
As the newest and tiniest student approached the mirror; at the corner of his sharp eyes, Crowley noticed how tense the Savanaclaw students near them would go as they pass by. Octavinelle students, at least the one who are merfolk, glanced at the petite teenager with wariness, even the Leech twins were a bit uneasy as he could tell.
And somewhere in the crowd of purple and gold cloak, Dire felt the questioning stare of Sir Vanrouge, the vampiric fae's own instincts probably told that something about the new student seemed.. off.
Divus soon joined him, the Alchemy teacher raising a single eyebrow at the student's reactions, and at the headmaster himself. Crowley gave him a look that promised to tell him later and Divus retreated, letting the crow fae taking his place among the school staff.
The Mirror of Darkness gazed down at the child before it and asked one question.
"State thy name."
A pair of pale and bruised hands reached up to lift move their hood just enough to reveal their face, the knuckles so marred that Dire could practically see the bone.
The sight that came after shocked them all.
(The child's face had small cuts, and spots of black and purple. Each gash was jagged with torn edges, with the largest one crossing right over their right eye. And their eye, oh gods, their eye. It was gouged out, a gaping, bloody socket stared blankly at the space of it.)
Next to Dire; Divus gasped silently, his hand clapping over his face in horror. Vargas jumped back, almost tripping after his own feet. Trein's eyes widened and in his arms was Lucius leaping out with a loud yowl. Sam, despite not being one of the teachers, grimaced and shuttered at the sight. The crowd behind them grew more curious at their reactions.
Still, the child ignored them, and ignored the crowd. Their one, fully intact, silver-colored eye looked up to the Mirror of Darkness, who was unfazed at their mauled face and waiting for their response.
With a slight sigh, the now undead student answered in a blank voice.
"Yuusha Mortem."