A return, some owls, and someone starts a fire

[racheltherunner.livejournal.com]

((The Socking Challenge, contender numero uno. The Dwight/Rachel sock was requested by Dean-mun, because she enjoys making my brain go 'bwah?'. Tip the waitress, try the veal.))



Right, so, next time I applied to a school, I needed to make sure I stuck around long enough afterward to actually, you know, go to said school. Barely an hour after I'd gotten Sorted - into 'Gryffindor', whatever (or whereever) that was - I had gotten a run which took me away for a couple of weeks. Now, returning to the castle, I realized that I had no idea where anything was.

Pieces of something that I'd rather not talk about were stuck in my hair and I'm pretty sure that roses weren't high on the list of things I smelled like. Hey, it'd been a tough job. But the troll (and company) were safely locked away and I was now several thousand richer - which was how I'd been able to get a decent wand, which seemed to be essential here, and some school books. Also a really amazing pair of black boots. Because I was worth it.

Anyway, I stumbled in the doors of the school, bag slung over my shoulder, hair in disarray, and was struck with two unavoidable facts: One, the entire castle was like a freaking stone maze, marked only with portraits that moved like a rabbit on brimstone and suits of armor that, I swear, kept trying to grab my ass. Two, I was starving. As punctuated by the sudden, loud growl my stomach decided to interrupt my thoughts with. Nice.

Sighing, I'd resigned myself to schlepping up a thousand flights of stairs in the blind hope I'd somehow find this Gryffindor place, when I heard a small 'Ahem' behind me.

Turning, I spotted a guy, tall, big glasses, balding, looking at me with an expression of mild disgust. Putting on my best 'lil ole me?' smile, I said brightly, "Can I help you?"

"You're dripping."

Wow, ok, that was not a greeting I was used to. Blinking, I looked around to see if this guy was, in fact, talking to me. Well, no one else around, so must be. Still... "Excuse me?"

Nodding towards my feet, he repeated, "You're dripping." Then, after a pause, he added helpfully, "On the floor."

I looked down. Indeed, some of the gunk that had come out of a troll orifice I never wanted to consider had gotten stuck to the side of my coat and was now plopping, bit by bit, onto the stone floor. "Huh." I'd come straight from apprehending my mark and turning him (and three of his best buddies) over to the people who'd hired me back to the school. If I'd stayed any longer, the hotel would have charged me for an extra day. No wonder I'd had so much personal space on the train ride back. "Er, don't suppose you know any of the handy cleaning spells I've heard so much about?"

Huffing slightly, rolling his eyes, the guy pulled out his wand and pointed it at the mess by my feet. I moved back a little. All right, a lot. God only knew if Bad Glasses Guy had any idea what he was doing, and I had no desire to make my psudo-triumphant return as a pile of splooge or whatever the hell he could turn me into. Plus, if he ruined my boots? I'd have to kill him.

Rolling up his sleeves, Bad Glasses Guy (heretofore referred to as BGG in my mind) pointed his wand at the pile of...whatever and said, "Scourgify."

A huge bang sounded along with a thick burst of black smoke. It was like the pile of troll dropping had suddenly exploded. The smell was horrific; choking, I backed up even more, hand pressed to my mouth. "For the love of the Turn, what the hell did you do?"

BGG glowered at me, eyes streaming from the stench. "Nothing! That's worked before. On other things." Then a slow smile crossed his face. "I totally Ryan'd that sucker."

"You totally did," I told him, having no idea what he was talking about, but figuring it was best to humor the crazy man with a wand. "Er, maybe we should..." I made a motion towards the door with my hands. I thought it best to get out of the area before someone happened along - always best to distance yourself from the incriminating evidence.

Nodding, BGG followed behind me as we fled the scene. He started laughing halfway to the door; and, God help me, I joined in. That had been freaking hilarious. "Oh, man," he said as we rounded the corner and could start to breathe normally again, "Angela would totally kill me." He held out one hand to me. "Dwight Schrute, Assistant Regional Manager, Dunder-Mifflin, Hogsmeade Branch."

"Rachel Morgan," I said, shaking his hand with a grin. "Runner. And, apparently, co-conspirator in the plot to burn down the castle."

This earned another laugh from Dwight and he scratched the back of his neck absently. "Yeah, sorry. I could try again...?"

"No, no, that's all right." I held up my hands. "I'll just clean up the old fashioned way. You wouldn't happen to know where Gryffindor is, would you?"

Dwight gave the camera me an intense look. "Of course I do. I've mapped the entire castle and inspected it all for soundness. I'm going to submit my written report to the Headmistress for review."

Okay. Nodding slightly, trying very hard to not be creeped out and/or laugh, I simply gestured ahead of me. "Lead on, then."

"You know, heels like that are really impractical on this flooring..."

"Shut up, Dwight."

He was quiet for a moment. "You know Jim, don't you?"

This was going to be a long walk. I could tell.

---

After I'd finally gotten rid of Dwight, washed up, and was generally feeling more human, I decided it was time for a little communication. Several wrong turns later, I discovered the owlery. Heh. Sending notes by birds was...just cute. Archaic. Between this and the flying on brooms, it was no wonder humans thought Witches had warts and green faces. Anyway.



Dean,

Just got back from a run and I'm dying for caffeine. Please tell me that there's a place to get a decent cup in the land of tea?

Rachel



Sansa,

Hey, back in the castle, and I was wondering if you'd like to give me that tour? I'm thinking it'll be good for me to find out where I'm supposed to eat.

Rachel



Chance,

Hey. Was in Glasgow on business and picked these up. Thought they might come in handy.

Rachel

(The owl is also carrying a pack of Bic pens.)



Tick-Tick,

Hey, just got back after a little trip. If you want, how about getting some food sometime?

Rachel

Letters thus sent, I began to wander my way back down the stairs. Maybe if I asked nicely, some of those frisky suits of armor would tell me where a girl could find some decent Chinese food in this place.

Comments

[castleinthesnow.livejournal.com]

Rachel,

Oh, yes, certainly! I would be happy to, at your convenience.

Sansa

[racheltherunner.livejournal.com]

Sansa,

I'm free when you are. Just discovered the wonders of the showers, so I'm all squeaky clean and raring to go. Let me know when and where - can't promise I'll be able to find the where, but I'll try.

Rachel