Hogwarts's Nefarious Force @the-hogwarts-mastermind-blog - Tumblr Blog

Happy Hallow's Eve

Boring. Boring, boring, boring.

They’d been home for a months. Two months - and - they - gave - him -nothing.

His knuckles were white, fingers in a death-tight grip around the slim, dark stick of wood. Briefly he persuaded breaking it, displeased by the magical dependence to such a weak, frail thing; but he loosened his grip, running his fingers across the smooth surface. It would not do to have to find yet another wand on such short notice, it simply would not do… He did not enjoy leaving the school for such petty affairs, and stealing the worthless wand of one of the students did not appeal to him.

But what to do, what to do… How to satisfy the neverending silence of boredom, to seek the screams to ease the burning nothing -

His grin was cold in the dim light. Such a simple answer, but so obvious… For, after all - they’d never received a very warm welcome home, had they? And what was a better welcome than a feast? Not to mention, it was to be his one-year anniversary of his grand entrance…something definitely due to be celebrated.

When the students began to trickle into the Great Hall for their annual Halloween feast, they were taken aback by the sight that greeted them. There were no tables overflowing with food, no candy, no pumpkins and bats and orange streamers decorating the room. Instead, the room was bleakly empty, save for a single lonely table in the center of the Hall, decorated with rotting pumpkins, boiling black cauldrons, and candies that no one would dare touch.

But most importantly was what lay on the table itself - a shining silver platter obviously set on display; candles and decorations set around it to draw attention. The students approached it curious, but wary. The memory of their previous Halloween feast was fresh, the hanging body in the doorway, the cold laughter of the Mastermind as he introduced himself - everyone knew that the Mastermind had had something to do with the single lonely table in the center of the Hall, and no one wanted to know what it was that the Mastermind deemed so important to present to them.

The main dish, he called it. Plat du jour, piece de resistance, chef d’oeuvre. Prepared so meticulously, it was the star of the whole feast, he was sure. He had laughed so gleefully as he’d prepared it, the dish almost as fun as he knew the reactions of the students would be -

So preoccupied with the platter as they were, no one noticed the small placecard on the table beside it, addressed in the usual pointed writing to a certain Ms. Jane Porter.

And when the Head Girl finally arrived, pushing her way through the crowd of students around the table, she tucked the placecard into her robes, firmly grasping the handle of the platter and pulling upwards. It took several seconds for the lid to lift, suctioned down somehow. WIth a final yank the lid pulled off, and immediately red liquid gushed out of the platter, splattering over the edges of the table and causing several students to scream as they realized the thick liquid was blood. And once the screaming died down, it was easy enough to see the pale human flesh arranged inside the platter - and as the blood drained away, they realized that the skin was almost abnormally smooth, white, unmarred - the skin of a baby. Jane attempted to yank the platter off the table as the screams began echoing through the hall in earnest, both to take the baby away for a proper burial and to remove the traumatic image from the eyes of the younger students - but the stake driven through the baby’s chest went straight through the platter and into the table, making it impossible to move and only causing the baby’s limbs to move about limply.

And the banners fell from the ceiling as if on cue, decorating the walls haphazardly in a signature, shining red pigment. 'Welcome Home', they read. ‘Happy Halloween’.

#plots #halloween

Welcome Home

Boarding the train was a somber affair. Whether the students wanted to go home or wanted to stay, they all bore similar expressions of sadness as they glanced back up at the castle in the distance. No one would really have ever expected something like this to happen; Hogwarts truly shutting down, and everyone being sent home - for who knows how long.

Even so, there was a sense of relief as the train pulled out of the platform and gained speed, the castle soon fading into the distance. It had been a long, stressful, and downright terrifying few months at school, after all; what with a deranged psychopath declaring himself out to get them all. Going home would be nice for them all; let the Aurors figure everything out and make the school safe again, finally.

The students talked amongst themselves normally, pausing as speakers that no one really knew existed crackled on in each compartment. “Hey, kids - this is your conductor speaking. I know this is a bit out-of-the-ordinary, and I’ll leave you all to your devices in a minute, but as this is a bit of an...out-of-the-ordinary trip itself, I figured I’d say something before we got back to London. I wouldn’t be worried - Hogwarts should be up and running again in no time at all, sure you’ll all receive letters about it soon. ‘Til then, have yourselves a good little mini-vacation home, yeah?

“So we’re about half of the way back to King’s Cross Station - remember that this is a bit of a last-minute trip, so try to ease out of the Platform slowly, don’t want to attract Muggle attention, as usual -” He paused, static emanating from the speakers. The students in the compartments looked at each other with slight confusion. There was a bit more static, then they could hear the conductor’s voice again faintly, as if he was muffling the microphone with his hand.

“- who are you -”

More confused glances. Who was in the conductor’s compartment, and why?

“ - what are you doing in here - no one’s supposed to -”

Concern began to spread through the compartments quickly, the more easily frightened students beginning to panic.

“ - wait - what the hell are you doing - stay back! -”

There were several loud, echoing thuds over the speakers, and the students all went silent, frozen with fear and desperately listening for any sign of what was going on. Until the screaming began; a horrifying, tortured screaming that pierced throughout the train and made the students cower with their hands over their ears, desperately trying to drown out the sound. By the time the conductor’s screams cut off, it was almost impossible to tell with the screaming of the students themselves echoing through each compartment.

Some of the students lunged towards the doors of their individual compartments, to look for their friends, to figure out what was going on, to try to leave the train, perhaps - only to find that the doors had locked themselves. Charms, hexes seemed to do nothing, and then the students screamed again as the train slammed to a halt, the force throwing them into the walls or other students. Students flocked to the windows, looking desperately for someone out in the empty surroundings, friend or foe - and then another yell broke out through the silence.

“We’re going backwards!”

A young girl began to scream once more, a terrified wail, and the train began to pick up speed once more, taking them back in the opposite direction - straight back to Hogwarts. Panicked fists slammed against windows, shook at doorknobs, screamed out for help from anyone, but it didn’t matter.

The cloaked figure stood peacefully at the front of the train, smiling as the scenery flew past. He raised a gloved hand to the window, tracing his finger across the glass. Pulling the microphone to his lips, he gave a soft hum of appreciation, listening to the sounds of chaos he could hear even from here. “Welcome back to Hogwarts,” he whispered into it lovingly, before vanishing with a crack. As the train pulled back into the platform at Hogwarts, the compartment doors slid open smoothly, almost like a terrifying gesture to welcome them home. The aisle of the train crowded with the panicked students as they all tried to rush off the train, horrified professors and staff running to meet them. It was easy to spot the blood splattered across the front window of the train - and even easier to understand what had happened, the signature letter traced into the red fluid.