This time Irene was grateful that she hadn't found herself at the edge of a very CREEPY forest. Instead she walked along a pathway that was covered with the freshest layer of snow. It was absolutely beautiful. She was used to having snow back home in Vermont but still there was something breathtaking about seeing a new place with a freshly dusting of snow on the ground. It was MAGICAL. Almost as magical as the night that she had spent dancing with Isaiah Collado on Merlin's Pride. It had been a perfect night. As she continued to walk ahead, she noticed a large stone ended the pathway and behind that was the notorious Whomping Willow.

Eyes scanned the willow with anticipation. It was covered with icicles and felt very winteresque but something made the young Pukwudgie feel incredibly uneasy. What was that sensation? It was like her stomach was doing non-stop somersaults while the little hairs on her arms were standing straight up on edge. Something didn't feel right and she didn't like it. Not AT ALL... Irene drew her wand, raising it towards the willow. Something was up and she needed to find out. Icicles we're still present on the tree which was something she hadn't expected. Irene had expected a tree with such an attitude would have shaken the icicles off of it but yet it hadn't....

How intriguing.

Hesitantly she took a couple of steps forward so that she could still be a safe distance away from the willow. Irene was no fool- she had heard the notorious tales of this tree hurting Hogwartian students. Stories travelled fast and she always paid attention to them regardless if they were based in fact or superstition.

Pointing her wand towards the tree, she cast, "Revelio!" and readied herself with a protective shield just in case something was going to hurl itself at her.

How odd it must be to see a Whomping Willow be so still on this cold, winter night. There is something eerie about it; don’t trust it, and don’t take your eyes off those branches. How well will an Ilvermornian do facing the dreaded tree? Time will tell.

As you make your way forward, something trips you. If you look down, there is a cauldron. Inside the cauldron is a simply written note:

"Well, this isn't a hat. Get on with it! Make your way to the passage beneath the tree."

The icicles dangle almost threatening, ready to fall if anything were to disturb them. Wait…are those icicles? Or are they...frozen potions ingredients? The vials sparkle in different colors depending on their contents, which surprisingly seems to be an eerily beautiful scene. Your spell reveals there are no humans nearby; you are completely alone.

The tree shuddered threatening, but stopped soon enough. Dare go further? That potion won't make itself. You might notice a small workstation nearby to make the process easier. Be careful, young Pulwudgie.



OOC: Feel free to decide which ingredients your character retrieves and what potion she will make.

Irene tripped on something as she approached the great Willow. What in Scammander's suitcase was THAT? She turned around to find her foot in a cauldron. A potions cauldron? She removed her foot and then crouched down to view the slip of parchment inside. "Get on with it! Make your way to the passage beneath the tree." Irene glanced at the tree and noticed that the icicles weren't icicles and that they were.... ornaments? She squinted her eyes a little more, making sure not to take a step too close to the willow, and realized that they were potions ingredients. Then Irene noticed the little workstation that was set up close by. Ahhhh... alright. She could roll with this.

So it seemed like she would need to brew a potion before trying to get past the dangerous tree. But what potion could she use? Irene paused, taking a moment to recall Professor William's lectures as well as her potions textbook. Thank Merlin for a photographic memory. Ah. That could work. She debated her options.

An invisibility potion would make her invisible to the eye but her spell had revealed that no one was hidden near her. Though a disillusionment charm could mask her from unwary eyes. Maybe that'd be a better plan. A strength or wit-sharpening potion would be an interesting idea. It could help prepare her for whatever or whomever was in the passage underneath the tree. Though she would have to make a quick run past the long branches that could try to bar her entrance and perhaps even injure her badly. She would need to do something to slow the tree down. Then maybe a defensive or healing spell would be the best solution. Or..... Or perhaps a potion that gave her good luck. However would good luck simply be enough to help her through this challenge.

She set about making a Dresden Draught. It would help keep her more concentrated on the task ahead. Immobulus would work on the tree and she could use a disillusionment charm on herself. Irene turned to the Whomping Willow and cast, "Immobulus!" With the tree frozen, now she could brew a potion. When she glanced at the ingredients, she couldn't find the muggle beverage. Hmm... She'd have to revise her plan.

Felix Felicis. Good luck would work hopefully for a little bit. It was an advanced potion and it would take way too long to brew. Six months or something. A stamina potion should do. A Girding Potion would do the trick. What page was that on? Thirty four. Ingredients that she would need were water (four cups), dragonfly thoraxes (forty toasted and ten untoasted), two fairy wings, three flying sea horses, and twelve doxy eggs.

"Scourgify," she said, pointing her wand at the cauldron and cleaning it up. Then she cast Augmenti and waited for the cauldron to fill up. Fairy wings were added first and then she heated the mixture with a simple heating charm, watching as the mixture turned to a beautiful turquoise color. Once it was this color, she added three doxy eggs and heated the potion. Once again the potion changed colors, starting from a turquoise and then moving to a periwinkle color and then finally a bright pink. Ooh! That pink matched her handbag. She loved the color. Then she began adding the toasted dragonfly thoraxes. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. The mixture was becoming redder but it wasn't red enough. Irene added more. Eight. Nine. Ten. Eleven. Twelve. Thirteen. Fourteen. Redder but not RED. Fifteen. Sixteen. Seventeen. Perfect. Now that was red. Hot fire truck red. Pointing her wand at the mixture, she heated it, watching the mixture as it turned from red to blue. Then she added seventeen more toasted dragonfly thoraxes. Hmm... one more to make it more red. Eighteen. Perfect!

She eyed the eggs. Alright. They were all going in next. She added them in groups of three. Three. Six. Nine. Okay. Then she added the ten untoasted dragonfly thoraxes and heated the potion once more until it became a beautiful royal blue color. Irene then picked up the flying seahorses and apologized to them in her mind as they were such beautiful creatures. Then she added them to the mixture and heated it up. Blue. Turquoise. Teal. Green. Slytherin Green like Brent's new robes. She bottled up the mixture into a vial. Time to keep moving. The Whomping Willow wasn't going to stay still for long.

Irene turned and pointed her wand at herself, casting the disillusionment charm first and moving her wand as if it was a rope being wrapped around her. Then she brought the vial to her lips and took a sip, feeling more confident in her abilities. Right. She glanced up at the Willow and then walked further until she was ducking to get under the tree.

The Willow began to creaaaaaaaaak slightly. The frozen ingredients still attached to the branches inside icicles clinked together like a New Year Eve’s toast; New Year’s was over, though, and this was no toast. The spell sent its way hit the target. The Willow froze.

Had the tree been able to see, it would have glared. Stepping up on this property, this space that belonged and had belonged to the Willow for a century or so now. If the Willow could have roared, or made any noise, it would have shrieked in the girl’s face so ferociously, saliva would have spat out the corners of its mouth; seeing as this isn’t an AU, and the Willow was in reality frozen, it bided its time.

The potion was brewed. The Ilvermornian girl made for her exit - but not so fast, child.

With a pent up veracity, the Willow swung its branch down.

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!

Whether it made contact with the ground or the girl, it made a noise that would surely be heard in the stands. Icicles from the branch stabbed the ground, and others had shattered as they made contact with the ground more violently.

The tree twisted its trunk and attempted to swat at the girl once more. Getting into the passage wouldn’t be as easy as she thought; two more branches, both coming from opposite directions, aimed for the human.

Do not take us lightly, girl.

Irene had wanted to scream out loud but she didn't. This was it. She had to be brave for her fellow Pukwudgies. But no screaming outloud. Instead, she just stared and wished that she had remembered a potion that would have transformed her into a creature. A wolf. A bug.... Maybe not a bug because she would have been squashed. ANYWAY. BACK TO PANICKING. Irene Avery was NOT okay. That THING could have seriously maimed her or killed her Y’KNOW before she had her first kiss which would have been so NOT fair!?!? Talk about everything at this wonderful castle wanting to kill you. This was Scotland not AUSTRALIA, people. Scotland wasn’t supposed to have deadly things that could crawl out and kill you, but, Hogwarts was its own country.

Irene fortunately had moved but she had found it difficult to move. She couldn’t explain why exactly. Her feet felt glued to the ground as she simply stared up at the willow preparing to swing at her. It was somewhat beautiful in its movements and somewhat memorizing too. KEEP MOVING! called a voice from inside her mind and the girl darted away from the first heavy branch as it landed beside her.

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!

Blinking her eyes and feeling a little confused thanks to the loud noise she had just heard, Irene paused for a moment and glanced at the heavy branch beside her. Irene gulped. That had been a close one. TOO CLOSE for her liking. If that had landed on her, who knows what could have happened? A broken arm, leg, back? She could have even been… cactus. Shivers crawled down her spine.

MOVE! GET TO THE PASSAGE!

Right. This was a life or death situation. Right now. She would have preferred Isabel, the dummy who had been brought to life, and the dementor. At least Isabel could talk and the dementor... Well scratch the dementor because they were always horribly behaved at parties. Heh. A dementor at a party... NOW that was a funny yet scary idea. Heh. The dementor would kill the mood. LITERALLY. She chuckled and then suddenly felt the snow making her clothes colder.

GET TO THE PASSAGE!

Irene hoisted herself up from the ground and dusted the snow off of her pants. She felt a little colder as the snow had made her pants damp. She could feel the wind through her pants. Brr.. Keep moving. She needed to stay warm, she quickly cast a heating charm. Now she needed to find a way to get into the passage. Maybe if she could just somehow immobilize or calm the angry tree then maybe she could find her way inside. Readying her wand, she was about to cast another Immobulus when two branches swung her way from opposite directions. Irene needed to move. AGAIN. LIKE NOW or she would be a squashed Irene Avery. She forward towards the passageway, managing to trip on something, a root or a patch of ice, and tumble back away from the willow’s reach. Aware that the willow could likely strike her down at any moment, she got back up to her feet as quickly as she could and continued her pursuit, making sure to duck whenever something came towards her. Thankfully the endurance potion helped remedy any soreness or tiredness she would have been experiencing at this moment. It also helped her keep her mind on the present situation instead of the thin river of blood trickling down her knee where an icicle had pierced her. She just had to keep moving and tire out the tree… if that was even a possibility. Irene needed to make it back. She had so much more to live for and a silly tree wasn’t going to get in her way.

In the meantime, she had just gotten another opening, she cried as she pointed her wand at the tree.

"IMMOBULUS!"

The force of the spell sent at the Willow, currently flailing its branchly-limbs, was enough to stop the tree in its violent tracks. It froze; the Ilvermorny girl had her chance, now! But where was the entrance to the passageway in the Willow?

There was a hole near the roots of the Willow. It was an odd looking hole. It looked deep, and, on closer inspection...might prove useful. It looked large enough for a person to… slide right in, didn’t it?

Quickly, now! The spell will only last so long!

The spell had worked! It had worked. Yipee! Victory was hers!!!

"Yes!" she grinned. Oh yeah! She could have used her ukulele right now to come up with a celebratory song for such an occasion but she didn't have it with her. And perhaps now wasn't the time to celebrate in front of the tree that had tried to maim her. Speaking of the Whomping Willow, it probably wasn't going to stay still forever. So the Pukwudgie bolted (almost Mission Impossible style) towards the roots of the tree which was where she had seen the small hole. She'd have to slide in there- there was no way she could just crawl in. Huh... a potion that made her smaller probably would have come in handy... Though shrinking her to that size would have made it easier for the tree to squash her like a big.

Shiver. A squashed Irene Avery was not a happy one.

She stared at the rabbit hole. Some reason she was getting a Lewis Carrol Alice in Wonderland vibe from it but she was surely just imagining it. Irene had always had a vivid imagination. As a child, she had spent hours imagining she was the comic relief sidekick who would get into trouble but would somehow manage to talk her way out of any bad luck. Irene needed to keep moving at this moment. Staring at the passage wasn't going to make her get inside of it. Plus the Whomping Willow was probably ready to strike her down.

Crouching down, she lowered herself closer to the ground and still kept her gaze on the hole. Well it certainly looked dark in there.

Brace yourself.

And with that last thought, she slid into the dark.

You are suddenly surrounded by blackness in all directions. You cannot see on any side of you, and what is up ahead is a mystery. What is at the end of this hallway, if it even is a hallway? What monstrosity could be waiting for you there?

Or is it….just a door?

Irene couldn't see a thing so she quickly cast a nonverbal Lumos. As soon as light started to emit from her wand, Irene readied a shield spell but then stopped herself when she saw that she was alone in the dark. Either way, she decided that she must remain quiet just in case she was being watched... like the last time. There seemed to be a... door? A door at the end of this hallway?

....Or was it a dead end?

Irene gulped.

She didn't particularly feel like checking it out but she found her feet moving before her. Taking a few slow steps forward, she brought her wand closer, making sure to constantly glance around her. Irene couldn't help but feel overly conscious about her surroundings. Feeling this conscious made her feel uneasy and to avoid an unpleasant visitor, she cast a disillusionment charm on herself and continued walking forward.

Whatever lay ahead was unknown but she didn't get a great feeling about this all. She had a funny feeling. Then again, her worries could all be for nothing.

Before the door lay a rolled up piece of parchment. The contents of this parchment are:


*Click Me*



What lies ahead doesn’t seem as dangerous, does it? Mere cleverness is useful for the task ahead. Go ahead. Explore. But do it in a timely manner; time is running slim.


OOC: Here is a floor plan provided OOC to make it easier to RP your character exploring the shack. Feel free to be as creative as positive.

If Irene hadn't had the path ahead of her lit, she surely would have stepped on something important... Huh. What's THAT? The Pukwudgie bent down to find a scroll of parchment. Interesting. It looked like it had.... words on it? She unfurled the scroll and pointed her wand towards it so she could read the message that was on it.

The message she found made her head hurt. Of course there had to be a riddle! She was certain that her schoolmates from Horned Serpent would figure it out in a jiffy but her.... ehhhh... She wasn't so confident. Another readthrough! Hmm... a little more.... Irene had the paper four times before she could grasp some sort of direction from the riddle. Two objects she sought. One a lever and perhaps musical that could also amend a house but not make it a home? The other an item from across the seas that could attach and reattach... something from home that she'd recognize. Picking up the scroll, she readied her wand with an offensive spell and pushed the doors open to find.... absolutely no one in this grey dusty room. She felt a tickling sensation and...

"Achoooooooo!" she sneezed and covered her mouth with her arm. "Excuse me!" She covered her mouth with her hands. It was out of habit that she excused herself when sneezing cause she was often with company but now she was alone and saying such a thing could compromise her safety perhaps? Oh well. That was louder than she wanted. Irene waited a moment to see if anyone would approach her before deciding that it was most likely safe to move around this old place. It seemed as if no one had been here in a while.

This room was a grotesque sight. Clogged bathroom, rotting food, dust eaten objects... how in Scamander's suitcase was she going to find anything in here? Her eyes widened when she saw a staircase. It continues! Thus Irene made her way upstairs to find a piano in the center of the room that was missing some keys. Hmm... let's see. She was instantly drawn to the piano. Something about score made her think of music and a piano certainly had keys.

But it was a sad piano. It was missing some keys.

By the piano, she pressed down on one of the remaining keys and heard a soft, sort of ominous noise that made her feel uncomfortable. Hmm.. not fun. She ignored that sinking feeling as she began searching the piano for some kind of clue. Irene played another key.

Luckily, your sneeze goes unnoticed because you are alone in here. Not a single other living thing - besides the rat that just scurried across your foot. Don’t let that scare you! You’ve got things to find! When you press the keys, the first one sounds normal, but yes, very ominous. Dust puffs up from the keys as you play. The second key, however, sounds a little different. The noise sounds muffled, almost as if there’s something keeping the key from making the correct sound.

Do they all sound like that? That’s odd, isn’t it? Maybe a closer inspection is in order…

There was a rat??!? HERE!! She was about to squeal at the sight of it but instead she jumped. She hadn't expected something to scurry so closely to her feet. At least it was just a rat and not a cockroach.... Gosh. If it had been a cockroach she would have squealed surely and that wouldn't have been a great sight on those viewing screens in the stands. She'd look pretty silly doing that which was something Irene wanted to avoid. She needed to be taken somewhat seriously and not be dismissed for loving to be silly.

Taking a deep breath, she pressed down on the second key again which sounded strange. Muffled... like perhaps something was blocking it. Crouching down, she tried to get a better look at this key momentarily before walking to the lid and lifting up the dust-lined case. Maybe something was sticking to the hammer and blocking the noise? Perhaps. Irene scanned the inside lid of the piano as she reached to touch the second key again to see the strings and hammers interact.

Hmm....

With all this movement, dust was clouding the air in enormous, smoke-like puffs, and it was beginning to cling to your fingertips and your clothes. Especially when you open the lid to the piano. The real dust attack begins! Try not to sneeze!

Under the piano’s lid is something vastly interesting. There is what looks like a small, black cloth clogging the hammer’s interaction with the strings. It seems to be folded, and the cloth seems to be very, very old, probably even older than this shack and everything inside it. If you read the riddle more carefully...you might have a better idea of what this could be…

"One is held dear to our pigletted friends.
It can’t build a home, but a house it does amend
To every boy and girl cherished at the castle,
But you won’t find it without much hassle."

Take a closer look. Let’s see what it is!

Ah.... ah... don't sneeze. Don't sneeze! She pinched her nose, trying to stifle the itching sensation. Speaking of itching, her arms were starting to itch as the dust began to cover her bare skin or maybe just covering her finger tips and clothes. Either way it was making her itch BADLY. Ick!

Get it off her! Now now now!!

Waving her arms about was futile, especially when the clock was ticking. She needed to keep moving.

Irene's eyes widened at the sight of.... a small black cloth. It looked old. Very old. What was that? And what had the riddle said again? She turned her gaze back to the parchment. The object couldn't build a home but a house it does amend to every boy and girl cherished at the castle....? Irene reached into the piano and fished out the small black cloth. Was it some sort of handkerchief perhaps? With the object in her hand, she decided to not waste more time wondering and headed to the reading area. The word "quill" from the riddle had caught her attention. Thus she began scanning this area.

Ah, you have the item but you don’t know what it is, then? Take a closer look. The words in the riddle will make more sense and perhaps help you with the next item. The black cloth isn’t just any cloth….it’s a hat. A very old, tattered witch’s hat. Does this ring any bells?

The reading area is a clever spot to search, considering, yes, the riddle mentioned a quill. But nothing seems out of the ordinary here. Nothing happens. Nothing catches your eyes besides the enormous amount of dust bunnies here. So why had the riddle mentioned a quill, then? A quill is a writing utensil...and so is a pen.. And the turning the knob part of the riddle might be worth checking out again as well.

Remember,

It doesn’t write; it surely isn’t a quill,
And it’s small in size as well as beautiful.

Twist clockwise and nothing you’ll get,
But counter that, and you might regret
The noxious gas that fills your space
If you turn it too quickly, wood it would deface.

The shack is eerily quiet as you search. There is a strange noise in another room. It sounds very much like consistent clicking sounds. What in the world could that be?

Hmm... what is that mysterious ticking clicking noise.....? She glanced at the bookcase and then crouched to see if it was coming from under the chair. Not over here.... not over there... Irene stopped in her tracks. It was somewhat catchy.... but also kind of nerve-wracking. Was that the timer? She glanced down at the black cloth like handkerchief and then blue eyes widened when she noticed what it was. THE SORTING HAT?!? She nearly dropped the thing as she tried to balance the scroll and it. Woah. Woah. Close catch. Hopefully it wouldn't tell her off for nearly dropping it. Sorry Mr. Sorting Hat. No time to apologize, she had to keep moving and because her hands were nearly full she placed the hat on her head and continued walking.

The reading area was bland. Nothing was... weird or unusual about it. Hmm... perhaps it was behind a book? Irene was about to start pulling books out of the shelf when she heard something.

But that ticking noise was certainly peculiar. It had peaked Irene's interest and sounded like it was coming from another room. She had to go check it out. She left the reading area and headed past the piano and then followed the noise downstairs. Was the ticking noise coming from the kitchen or from the bathroom?

She glanced at the riddle in the scroll. Twist clockwise and nothing you'll get.... was it a knob on the stove or perhaps a key stuck in the bathroom door? Maybe... maybe it was in the kitchen?

But it was something small and BEAUTIFUL. What could it be? A screw that belonged to an appliance or a knob on the oven. But it could attach and reattach.... Was it some sort of clip? She began searching the kitchen.

The kitchen is probably your best bet right now. Now, all the knobs on appliances, and don’t forget the stove, but only one will really help you. Something that turns clockwise and does nothing….but counterclockwise too fast and….something could burn up. Think: what item burns things on the regular basis? A stove, right?

One of the knobs on the stove turns on by itself. It turns on, clicks for a second, and no fire comes out. The smell of gas reaches your nose. If that fire does turn on, at some point, let’s hope no major flame action happens or else you might be out of some eyebrows, Ilvormornian. Not a good look, not a good look at all.

Click?

Clicking noise?

Silence.....

She felt incredibly uneasy. And what was with THAT SMELL? Gawd. That was awful.

Was that gas? Irene sniffed the area around her. It smelt like it. Gas? Which would mean fire and burning and..... Oh Scamander's suitcase!! She needed to get out SOON. She turned to find a knob that had turned by itself. Irene quickly turned the knob on the stove clockwise. Would it stop? Did the gas stop going out? If she turned it counterclockwise, the gas would invade and it could light up the whole shack.

This whole room was a fire show waiting to happen.

With your turn of the knob in the clockwise direction, the fire stops, and the knob pops off and clatters to the floor. The sound it makes doesn’t match what it should make. It should sound like the stove, light metal. But the deep clank it makes as it touches the ground makes it seem even heavier. And is it….is it gold?

It wasn’t gold three seconds ago!

Is this the second item? It has to be! Pick it up! Come on! You can see the outline of what very much resembles the fasten on your school robes….could it be….the...original inspiration for them?

That didn't sound like an ordinary stove knob. It sounded much heavier as if it was some different type of material and it looked much different almost like... It was golden.. Merlin. Something she knew quite well. Irene had seen this before but where? Think. Think.

Thiiiink.

Her school robes! Illvermorny? This item didn't hail from Hogwarts. It had to do with HER school. Pukwudgie? Was it a Pukwudgie? She clutched the second item and then decided it was time to leave this place before anything else happened. Out the secret door? Yes, yes, out the trap door that she had came through and then out through the passage. Hopefully the Willow didn't have plans to come after her again....

Isolt Sayre’s brooch is now in your grasp. You have the second item. You are finished. Thank Merlin, and you can now relax...or can you? You head back to the passageway from which you came, but before you can reach the door, you feel a suddenly jerk in your neck. It’s as if you’re being pulled, but it only lasts a second.

You are in a bed, waking up from a magically modified daydream. A Department of Mystery employee explains things to you, briefly before telling you are free to go to the stands now. The room is very bright and white and is located near the Viewing Area. Seek medical attention if you feel ill or dizzy, of course, but hopefully you have no serious injuries from your dream adventure.

OOC: You may now look at the viewing area and/or other competitors' threads.

Irene stopped in her tracks when she felt yanked. She quickly glanced down at Isolt's brooch in her hand. The gold gleamed and was the only beautiful thing in such a dusty place. Then everything went black.

She opened her eyes and expected to find herself on the ground or back in the shack but instead she had found herself in a bright room white room. She sat up in a panic which didn't help her pounding head. Wincing at the pain, she suddenly felt incredibly neasous.

Where was she? What had happened?

Fortunately there was a Ministry employee there to explain everything about her magically modified dream. WOAH. This was like something out of Assasins Creed or the Matrix... well without the whole attachment to her head. Irene touched the back of her head and neck. Nope nothing metal or weird there. THANK NEWT.

It took her a while to get out of bed but once the dizziness had passed, she pulled herself out of bed. She didn't feel so good. The Pukwudgie felt drained emotionally and mentally. To the Stands she'd go even if she did look rather pale.