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[alt_poppy]

I may, perhaps, have underestimated the magnitude of what's happening in the Ravenclaw dormitories.

Before the night ended, I had seven cases of night terrors; eleven of psychosomatic itching; one child who'd been wickedly pinched by a beetle (never mind that he confessed he'd been trying to prise its shell apart); and nine students suffering from bed bug bites, two of whom proved strongly allergic.

Of course, one cannot merely admit them and put them to bed here on the ward. That would invite the bed bugs (and other things, perhaps) to find a new home here. So I supervised twenty-eight disinfecting showers and then closely inspected all twenty-eight of them. Children have a tendency to miss spots, even when they've been carefully instructed, so there were several repeat trips under the spray. Today's tasks will include mixing more superiour-cleansing scrub and brewing another large batch of deverminating shampoo. I suppose, if I am wise, I will also brew a quantity of delousing shampoo. Just in case.

I spoke with Professor Brutka and Mr Dawlish this morning at breakfast, suggesting that their assistance might be needed to address whatever is happening in the Ravenclaw tower. I should like to avoid another night like this one if at all possible.

Comments

[alt_molly]

My goodness! It sounds perfectly dreadful.

I assume your Charms professor is also working on the problem as well? If there's something that's attracting these nuisances?

[alt_lupin]

I agree. Perhaps a cursed object of some kind? Maybe Minerva should take a look.

[alt_poppy]

The staff are looking into it, though I must tell you, as it's Ravenclaw House, it seems entirely likely that whatever's afoot is a side effect of some project one of them has undertaken that's gone awry. We are attempting to keep open minds in order to sort out the situation properly.

[alt_sirius]

Yeah, I'm sort of glad we never got up to retaliatory japes with any many girls - they're right vicious.

Still, have to admire their ingenuity, even if it's not particularly elegant, going after an entire House just to have revenge on one little miss nose-in-the-air over there.

I hope you gave her a particularly nasty steel wool scrubbing brush, Poppy.

[alt_poppy]

Sirius Black!

I did no such thing. For Paracelsus' sake! To think that I'd set aside the Healer's code to take petty revenge on a child, who has done no-- Well, to take revenge on a child for any reason would be quite wrong.

I may, I confess, have been a tad brusque about all the shrieking and shrinking, but no more with one child than another. Honestly, they were in such a state and fueling one another in it all. I should think it's the best entertainment they've had in ages.


What makes you think this has been caused by retaliation or pranking? I realise that Miss Patil is an unlikable child, but do you really believe that anyone would bring down such a plague of nastiness on a whole House to target one sole member in its midst?

[alt_sirius]

Steady on, Poppy, I was only joking!

For my suspicions, well, let's say that as an experienced prankster, I recognise the marks. The timing, for one thing.

I'm not sure whoever it was really thought through the implications, point of fact, nor the disruption it'd cause.

What I haven't worked out yet is just how they did it. I'll not go so far as to join the little wench and accuse Arthur's boys, but ... well, it doesn't bear their signature, anyway. I have some theories, but no conclusions yet.

It's possible that it's an innocent spell gone awry, though. I suppose.

[alt_poppy]

Hrm. Well. It needn't be wholly innocent, either.

There was some discussion over lunch whether it mightn't be an attempt on the apparent victim's part to make it look as though she's been targeted for revenge after her nasty little prank with that party.

As I said, the staff are attempting to remain open to all possible scenarios in order to read the evidence properly (should any evidence, in fact, be discovered).

[alt_sirius]

Well, I don't know as that tracks.

I mean, what reason would she have for this type of prank? Granted, I'm reading it here and you've dealt with the girls in person, but she seems genuinely disturbed by it all - though that could either be exceptional acting or simply because she's just as appalled by the repercussions as everyone else.

Still. From what little I've seen of her, I don't think that's the way her mind runs. Just like this doesn't bear the twins' stamp - it's doing far too much collateral damage.

[alt_poppy]

That's so often the way of pranks in this school, though. They seem like a brilliant idea to the culprit until they begin to play out and then they find themselves trapped by the disastrous consequences of what they've wrought. Such things then drag on because if they are truly horrible, the culprit will do everything in her power (or his) to avoid detection... including suffer along with the rest in order to establish her innocence.

Perhaps your pranks were better executed than most, but I'd say that unintended consequences are the usual way of it.


The point is, making assumptions gets us very close to nowhere. Particularly when dealing with a group of young folk given to vindictive scheming.

[alt_sirius]

'Vindictive' is right. Sorry to say, Poppy, Minerva: I think you're likely in for a few years of escalation.

[alt_poppy]

Since our efforts to sort out this situation seem to amuse you, I thought you might enjoy hearing the theory that pushed to the lead at the staff table during supper. Did you read Miss Patil's most recent discussion of events? It's been mooted that perhaps the very helpful Mr Troy is not only the one to come to the rescue of Ravenclaw House, but also the one who created the crisis. It's so convenient to have an excuse to use one's specialised knowledge playing hero.

I'm not convinced, but it does have a certain elegance, this theory. What say you?

[alt_sirius]

I'd say the latest news rather scotches your theory, Poppy.

Ah, well.

[alt_poppy]

Actually, it was Professor Babbling's theory. She offered it to Professor Brutka, and he was noncommittal about whether he thought it likely Eudoxus Troy would do such a thing, but Professor Acton felt it fit certain elements of his personality and Professor Vector wouldn't rule it out, so then it seemed to take hold as the latest possibility.

As I said, I remain skeptical all the way around. The only opinion I'll commit to paper is that this is the most diverting thing to happen in a month of Sundays. I don't mean to say that it's entertaining or amusing, mind you, but we needed to be diverted from a castle-full of rather leaden thoughts, and this business has filled the bill.

[alt_poppy]

And if by 'latest news' you mean the fact that Miss Sandoval has been forced to come here for de-lousing, I believe you are right. At the very least, Mr Troy's bid to become Hero of Ravenclaw House (if that indeed was his goal) has been dashed on the rocks of the Head Girl's fury.

[alt_sirius]

Exactly. If he'd really been drumming up his own heroism, then he'd hardly have botched the endgame.

I don't quite know what to say about the diversion factor, except that our fun, even if it was sometimes destructive, didn't generally seem to have such a lethal - or well, not lethal, but you know what I mean, cruel - streak about it.

But then I suppose everything about the situation nowadays is more cruel than it was then. More ruthless, anyway.

I mean to say, sure, we were rather heartless sometimes, particularly where Snape was concerned, but we'd never have swiped a whole dormitory just to pin him.

[alt_poppy]

There you go again, confusing intent with the ability to carry off one's scheme.

[alt_sirius]

Well, that's my point. If this is really a minor prank gone pear-shaped, then it's the fault of the pranksters for over-achieving.

I like to think that we usually were pretty sure of the effects before we went forward. Though admittedly not always. And that was always when the worst resulted - when we hadn't gone enough rounds of practice.

Or worst yet, when we just acted without thinking at all.

[alt_poppy]

Ah, yes. The ability to place thought before action is a capacity impaired by adolescence--scroll up on scroll has been devoted to this topic.

And now, as though upon cue, I hear the shrilling of adolescent voices upon the stairs. This will be another long night, I fear.

[alt_alice]

I seem to remember the Charms classroom flooding with water on the day your class just happened to have an exam...

And that rash of shoelace pranks that lead to Kathy... what was her last name? She was in Ravenclaw. Remember? She chipped her front tooth when she fell. Merlin, she was sour about that, even after she'd gotten it fixed.

And that poor boy from Slytherin! Snape. Goodness. I don't know how many times I had to get him free from the toilet or help him mend his schoolbags.

[alt_sirius]

I never said we didn't pull pranks, quite the opposite, Miss Prefect. I said we never got into a heated rivalry with girls. Snape was a special case (and turned out just as bad as I always thought he'd be, too).

Cathy Collins, you mean? I remember she was always shirty about being Catherine-with-a-C, if you please. She was a piece of work. But not what I'd call a deadly rival.

These girls have obviously got it in for each other, I think.

Sorry, Poppy. Assuming it really is these girls.

[alt_alice]

Cathy. That's it. She wasn't the type to take a joke very well. And neither was Snape, if I recall.

I can't identify really, as I was never the object of a prank, at least none that were meant for me, and didn't tend to pull them myself -- apart from the occasional April Fool of course.

It does seem to lead to a rather vicious cycle, though, doesn't it?

I still think your flooding the Charms classroom was rather brilliant. I wish I could have been there when they opened the door.

[alt_sirius]

And anyway, fat lot of good that flood did us, with Flitwick clearing it all away in a tick.

We still had to sit that exam the next day!

[alt_alice]

He really was fantastic at Charms, wasn't he?

I'm sorry Neville never got to know him.

[alt_sirius]

That he was, love.

Did you ever get him talking about his duelling days? Competition duelling that is, not the honour thing.

[alt_alice]

I was in his Duelling Club my last three years at school. It got me top marks in my first year of training as an Auror, I'm sure of it.

He did have some marvellous stories. I wonder if his trophy is still at school? From Worlds? I remember it was in his office when I was there.

[alt_sirius]

Course you were, I'd forgot that.

But I just meant it was a great way to avoid serving a detention with him. Get him started on the 1961 cup in Frankfurt and before you knew it, he had the kettle on and the biscuit tin out and look at the time, off you go then, Black, and let's have no more of this 'experimental' application of weather spells to make it snow in the great hall or turn the bathroom into a sauna.

Best part was he could never remember if he'd told the story before, so it was good for multiple offences.

[alt_alice]

You would think of that, wouldn't you, my darling.

I must admit, I heard about the Frankfurt cup easily a dozen times while I was in the Club. It never failed to make me laugh when he'd re-create his "famous twirling two-step dodge and parry" move, though. Once, he did it three times in a row just to show us how to aim while spinning.

I remember his Christmas displays. And he always got such joy out of directing the choir.

[alt_sirius]

You had to bring up the choir, didn't you?

I'll never forgive James. Never.

[alt_alice]

I have it on good authority that you have an excellent singing voice.

It's a pity you're limited to singing in the shower, when you think no-one else can hear.

Who'd have thought that you of all people would have stage fright?

[alt_sirius]

Had a good voice. Supposedly. Well, one of our tutors thought so, anyway. Voices change, though, don't they.

It's ... It sounds a dodge, but it's my mother's fault, actually.

Which is probably all anyone needs or wants to hear on that subject!

[alt_alice]

Enough said, dear.

Frank can't sing worth salt, you know. He just sort of says the words in a rumbly sort of way, and shifts around his voice a little every now and again for emphasis. It's rather sweet when he tries to sing the children to sleep -- they give him the oddest looks. Except for Melania. She's out like a light the moment he starts in on it. She must be used to it after the week they had to spend together in isolation.

[alt_sirius]

Well, now you come to mention it, I did sing to Harry on more than one occasion, when the sprog was in his cradle or more like if he couldn't settle of an evening, and I was babysitting for James and Lily.

He didn't complain, at least not usually. But then he wasn't necessarily a discerning audience.

Out here there's a horrifying invention I've seen once or twice. I only hope it doesn't catch on. It's called a karaoke machine and it makes the most ghastly singers in the world think they can bloody well stand up there and torture cats to the tunes - or I should say, the background music - of popular songs.

It's atrocious. Listening to some of these blokes I can understand why Mother was dead set against me doing any kind of public singing.