Staircase Woes

[Frida Lestrange]

While the beginning of the school years always came with a large dose of anxiety, things usually smoothed out as the year went on. Now at the end of February, Frida was not a blubbering mess, but instead with a nose in a textbook. Every day was attempt to make a new friend, but it seemed she kept falling back on the same one in the end: Seneca.

Ancient Runes had just finished, meaning their classes had come to a halt until Astronomy later that night. Frida had tagged along with Seneca, who was mostly silent as they walked down the halls. Frida mimicked her actions, holding her books close and keeping her mouth shut—at least until the staircase they were on swung suddenly.

Letting out a squeak, Frida clung to the staircase bar. "I hate when it does that," she pouted. "Sometimes I just wonder if it's looking to get us in trouble."

@'Seneca Lestrange'

  

[Seneca Lestrange]

Seneca had no issue with her cousin Frida joining her at the conclusion of their lesson. Her silence while they walked was typical of Seneca, who wasn’t the sort to start conversations with most people. That was because conversation with that category of people consisted of unimpressive small talk and Seneca wanted to have none of it. She also had nothing to talk about with Frida. That being said, if Frida started a conversation, Seneca would dutifully engage her and actually make an effort to keep the chat going, something she wouldn’t do in a small talk with just anybody who wasn’t family.

Frida did say something, at an unfortunate time, for Seneca was too busy watching one of her books dropping down the stairs. Frustrated with that and with Frida, who was so inconsiderate as to make small talk while Sen’s book was being lost to the lower floors of Hogwarts, Seneca cried: “My book!” She nearly stomped her foot as she said that.

Sighing, to emphasize her struggle, Seneca pulled out her wand and commanded: “Accio book!” She was somewhat offended that Frida hadn’t rushed to do just that before she’d had the chance. Count on her cousin to be of no use!

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   Frida Lestrange

[Frida Lestrange]

Frida could hear Seneca complaining in the background, but for once she was more concerned with her own well-being than to worry about whether her cousin was angry. Her eyes were glued to the spot the staircase seemed to be aiming for: a corridor she was almost sure was full of empty rooms.

Letting out a moan in complaint, Frida suddenly turned to Seneca. "I'm more worried about what's up there," she responded. The corridor didn't even seem to be lighted—a sure sign evil was lurking in the depths!

  

[Seneca Lestrange]

Fortunately her summon was successful and the book flew back in her arms. Having learned her lesson, Seneca put it in her leather bag - she’d not done that after the conclusion of her lesson out of sheer laziness.

With her book safely tucked in her bag, Seneca’s attention was turned to the corridor Frida was talking about. She’d never walked down that corridor before. Probably. It was hard to tell with a place as enormous as Hogwarts. In any case, this was hardly the first time a staircase or a door got a mind of its own, sending Seneca off her path. It seemed that an incident of this nature occurred every year. Frida’s dramatics were needless.

“We’re on the - third floor, right?” Seneca observed. “Professor Sleptov’s office can’t be that far from here.” Granted, it was located in a different direction than the one they were heading to, but Seneca was sure they’d find their way to more familiar parts of Hogwarts.

“Lumos”, Seneca cast and then stepped off the staircase and into the corridor.

  

[Frida Lestrange]

She was not down for this, but it seemed her alternative was to wander back down the staircase. She couldn't just leave her cousin to wander around the corridors on her own. The staff—or worse, Seneca herself—would find a way to blame her if she got hurt or something got damaged.

"There's probably a reason they put the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor's office on this floor," she muttered under her breath. She walked close to her cousin, her books held tightly against her chest. She only loosened her grasp to feel for her wand, which luckily had remained safely tucked into her robe's pocket when the staircase her jerked.

"This doesn't feel right. Why wouldn't they even light to corridor? I don't even see portraits here, and there's portraits everywhere else," she rambled quietly, her eyes flickering around at every shadow that appeared as they passed.

  

[Seneca Lestrange]

"Frida," Seneca interrupted her cousin's anxiety-ridden rumble. "I know we've been told about Hogwart's dark secrets but I assure you, nothing truly dangerous lurks any of these corridors. This is a school. It would have closed centuries ago if there was some chimaera hanging about or something." All those tales about monsters living in the depths of Hogwarts were just that - tales. Stories made to scare children before their first year. Just like the old joke about the sorting entailing a duel with a dementor or something of that sort. Even Seneca had believed those tales when she had been a child. She knew better now.

As they walked, Seneca's light fell on a particular door with a sign marking it as the 'Art Classroom'. The old one, to be sure. The current art classroom was on the fifth floor. Seneca smiled - an arrogant sort of smile, the one she adorned when she was about to say something clever: "As for the lack of art, I'm sure there'll be some paintings in here to cease your anxiety!" With that, she reached for the door handle. She didn't expect it to be open and yet it was!

Seneca pushed it open.

  

[Frida Lestrange]

Seneca's words quickly worked to hush the rambling Frida, but it did little to sooth her inner anxieties. Her eyes peered around the hallways, noting the creaky doors the cobwebs that clung to an empty frame or two that hung on the walls. Even if they weren't going to die, there was no telling whether Professor Sleptov—or any professor who found them wandering here—wouldn't rhetorically murder them if they found the girls wandering the old, abandoned corridor.

Frida flashed Seneca an alarmed look as the door just... slid open without any problem, but the other girl's attentions seemed distracted. She paused at the doorway, inches behind her cousin, and tried to swallow a lump in her throat.

"You think we should just go in there? That would be breaking so many rules," she whispered, casting quick glance behind them to check for any other people.

  

[Seneca Lestrange]

"If it was against the rules to enter any of these classrooms we would have been told," Seneca observed. The restricted sections of Hogwarts were marked as such. There were no rules against getting lost. So long as it wasn't after hours and/or with a member of the opposite sex!

Seneca's cool was melted by an all too familiar voice. "Well, well, who's there!" said Headmaster Black. Her heart nearly jumped out of her chest. Phineas Black wasn't in that classroom, though. There was only a mural resembling him on the wall across the door. It wasn't a particularly good painting - it looked too much like those modern French paintings - but you could tell who it was depicting.

"You - can talk?" Seneca asked sheepishly.