7th of Oct, 1895 — A dark part of the Slytherin Dungeons

"...and that was the last time he was ever seen alive... "
"...some say they can still hear his screams, echoing in the halls of the old dungeons, but no one has ever been able to find him..."

Silas wanted to believe that the third years were only joking, recounting ghost stories as mere tall tales. The more he pressed them, however, the more the myth, and mystery, cemented itself to his mind. When the older students left him, bereft and clutching at his chest, they were laughing at the boy's misfortune. Perhaps he had fallen for the story, and certainly he felt too hard for the lost boy in the tale, because all he could manage to say aloud, just as he thought it, was, "His poor soul!"

There was little way to know if souls could find their way up to Heaven from this far below, and no one else to ask. Silas feared a terrible reckoning awaited the lost boy if no one acted, yet he could. There was still time! All Soul's Day was not until the end of the month, and if he could help find the boy's soul before then, perhaps he could cease to remain as the tormented object of a ghost story. Silas hadn't thought himself brave enough to ask one of the castle's ghosts, least of all the bloody visage of his House's specter, what manner prevented their souls from leaving the castle and joining the chorus of everlasting life beyond.

He only wished to keep their numbers from growing, even by one.

As he readied himself by a gloomy portal, one of many dungeon halls which descended into the depths of earth and darkness, the boy allowed himself a spell. He might need to save all his prayers for later, after all. A light bloomed as soon as he spoke the word, startling him at the same time when he noticed another soul, earth-bound and not at all the spectral vision he'd expected, illuminated along with his wand.

"Lumos —ahh! You frightened me, what are you doing here?"

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OOC: Open to any Slytherin, especially first years who are gullible/dumb enough to go dungeon spelunking.

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   Cressida Rosier

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**Miss** Cressida Rosier was loitering in the dark corridor, and so shone upon she raised her hand to shield her eyes. "Merlion! I didn't see you coming." She was rather unprepared for coming across anyone at this time and place. "Oh, I suppose I got lost. I might have lost something, too." She admitted and looked about for the book she hid somewhere in the dark underbelly of the castle a few days earlier, when one of her cousins was in pursuit of her. She wouldn't have Arabella know what she was reading for anything, because she feared she would mention it in her next letter home. Arabella mustn't have very many more interesting things to report. Silas Merlion would hardly find her choice of novel relevant, so she dared to tell him: "I am searching for a book. It is wrapped in fine purple paper. But say, what are you doing here?"

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   Silas Merlion

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Jocasta had never been a great sleeper, years of wondering whether that bump in the night was here to kill her family had seen to that. So when Cressida had snuck out of their dorm being even quieter than usual she had been awake and she had decided to follow her and see what she was up to.

They hadnt gotten far when Ida turned into the corridors adjoining the dormitory and vanished into darkness. It took a moment for Joy's eyes to adjust but she managed to keep up the pursuit, moving as silently as she could. Up until the moment she heard the word Lumos and she jumped back, clattering against a covered painting on the wall and blowing her cover. She heard a disturbed snorting and snoring from the painting and then peered from the edge of light.

"That's a good question, perhaps he wishes to test his strength against the FANGED NIGHTSTALKER." she smirked at Ida with her little tease. "Oh, and I was following you." she added, knowing that she would likely be the next to be questioned on the matter. She pulled out her own delicate wand and held it in her hand, she was never comfortable having someone else control the only light source.

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Silas Merlion Cressida Rosier

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   Cressida Rosier, Silas Merlion

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Lost souls and lost objects was a grim coincidence for shadows lying in wait down his chosen path. Silas tightened the grip on his wand, an odd lifeline for a boy taught to trust in faith, not light conjured by his own hand. Yet shadows could not stand in the light, nor could monsters against the challenge of a fearless soul. The boy steadied the aim of his wand and angle of his shoulders, as square and firm as his resolve.

"I am going looking for..." he trailed off, quieting as Miss Flint arrived with her own explanation. Silas considered the proposition, uneasy at how real a Fanged Nightstalker sounded. A name like that belonged in a Scripture somewhere, or offered in grave advice, not the whispered object of a jest. He couldn't help the shiver that ran down his spine. Perhaps that was the beast who had taken the poor boy's soul, lost to a prowler of the shadows. Not a figment of a child's nightly fears but a real one that might appear in his Defense Against the Dark Arts book, somehow inhabiting th darker corners of Creation. The kind that the Rosier family seemed far too fond of than seemed reasonable. "...something interesting. I bore of the great stone room with its draperies, don't you?"

Silas thought that sounded like a safer answer, one much less foolish than going looking for a beast. Or a lost soul, he wasn't certain if either of the girls would keep from laughing if he told them. Not everyone had at Hogwarts, least of all the portraits who were as free with their chatter as their unnerving movements. That would not deter his path, however. Faith required courage, demanded it as much as the sea might, though the similarities were more difficult to understand down here.

"If I'm to be stuck underground below the castle walls, then I should like to see what's hiding in them," he added. "Perhaps I'll come across a lost book..." He turned to Miss Rosier, and then to Miss Flint. "...or something more elusive. Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall find."

There had been much asking, in prayers from his heart of hearts. If his prayers could be heard from down here, Silas had not yet found any answers to be very forthcoming. Only one thing left remained, and it meant taking a step into those shadows. And then another, close enough for those gloomy shapes to flee before his wandlight. The courage of his faith, and the light of his wand, had open his eyes to the path before him. There was no turning back now, but Silas did pause a moment to see if the others would follow behind him. An invitation, though one as silent as answers to his prayers in this dungeon tomb.

After all, nothing said he had to seek all by himself.

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Cressida Rosier Jocasta Flint

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   Cressida Rosier, Jocasta Flint

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