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hh_mirror2007-07-11 01:12 am
likeabadpenny.livejournal.com) wrote in hh_mirror2007-07-11 01:12 am
Entry tags:
- application,
- bart allen,
- camilla macaulay,
- carrie white,
- charles foster ofdensen,
- jack harkness,
- johnny c,
- lily potter,
- mayday parker,
- mel beeby,
- ned stark,
- ninth doctor,
- noah bennet,
- pam beesly,
- peter petrelli,
- rachel morgan,
- rogue,
- sam winchester,
- sandra bennet,
- stephen maturin,
- susan sto helit,
- sylar gray,
- veronica mars
Application: Peter Petrelli (Heroes)
(Permission given by the lovely fellow Heroes-muns. Spoiler Warning: Major spoilers for Heroes, including the finale!)
(Second warning under cut for potential series spoiler: If your character is thinking particularly loudly, beware, Peter will hear their thoughts :P)
It turned out that exploding from radioactive power hurt like a bitch. And falling from roughly 6 feet onto a stone floor wasn't terribly pleasant, either.
At least - Peter reflected hazily, blinking as his eyes regrew - he had one thing working for him. Already he could feel what little remained of his skin duplicating from what few healthy cells were left, growing back over exposed muscle and bone. It was an odd feeling; like the tingling sensation felt after all the blood had drained out of a limb. Pins and needles. Nerves reforming with tiny sparks of sensation. Kinda painful, really.
For a while, he just lay on his back and stared at the ceiling, his brain struggling to catch up with what had just happened. It was slow in coming, so instead he just reflected on the spiderweb he could see gathering in one corner of the ceiling.
When the application paper fluttered into existence and appeared on a table next to him, Peter decided he couldn't be bothered moving his neck, let alone his whole body. With a gesture, he floated the paper over and let it hover a few inches away from his face, squinting to read it.
1. What is your favorite cheese? Why is it your favorite?
"Mozzarella," he answered absently. "Food should be fun, and mozzarella is kind of challenging in a fun way seeing how it's so stringy."
Why the hell was he answering questions about cheese? As a break in his skull sealed over, Peter inhaled sharply in surprise. Shit, he'd blown up. His dreams came true, and he really had absorbed Ted's power and been unable to control it. Peter scrambled upwards, accidentally smacking his face into the paper in a particularly dorky move, and threw one hand out to grasp the table for balance.
Nathan. Shouldn't Nathan be here? They'd been together when he'd blown up, he thought, and... oh, shit. Nathan wouldn't survive that. He might have saved the cheerleader, saved the world (or, really, just New York city to be precise), but he'd killed his brother. He'd killed Nathan. All because he couldn't control a little nuclear power.
2. Who would you kill first, Barney or Carrottop?
After glancing at the next question, it struck Peter as being rather ironic. "I don't want to kill any more people," he answered, the shock of the situation so overwhelming that he still didn't really understand what was going on.
"I just helped kill Sylar, and..." His brother. "I don't really want any more blood on my hands. I don't know if Barney actually has blood," he took a moment to babble, "But even if he did, I wouldn't. Wouldn't, couldn't, and shouldn't."
3. What time is it where you are?
That was a good question, actually. A look at his wrist confirmed that his watch had likely melted off in the explosion. Which meant... oh god. Suddenly panicked, Peter stared down at himself. His clothes definitely didn't survive the explosion. On the fortunate side, 90% of his body was still mostly unrecognizable as even being human - still black and twisted and burnt. He'd been ignoring the pain so far.
"I don't know the time, but... I-I, um, I think I need some clothes," Peter answered, his voice strangled, trying in vain to cover himself and looking horribly embarrassed. He wasn't sure what the small, deformed things that brought them were, but at soon as provided clothes appeared on the table, Peter fled (which meant he mostly stumbled) behind a curtain that the same weird-ass creatures had set up. The still-floating application bobbed along after him.
Eventually he wandered back out, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt far too large for him. With a frown, Peter lifted his shirt and pressed his hands down on a few ribs that had broken the skin, popping them back into place so that they could heal properly. Finally, he was almost back to human.
4. If you were Albus Dumbledore returned from the dead, which member of the Order of the Phoenix would you sexually harass? How would you harass them? If you are Albus Dumbledore, please answer as if you were Sirius Black.
"Uh." Peter scratched the back of head, not noticing when flakes of burnt skin and dried blood fluttered to the floor. "I don't really... know any of them, so, I dunno. I don't think I'd want to sexually harass someone anyway, that's kind of crazy."
He looked at his hand and grimaced, trying to scrape dried blood out from under his fingernails. Just because he was completely healed now, it didn't mean that he wasn't covered in dirt and blood. He really needed a shower.
...Thank god his hair was okay!
5. If you are pushing to be in:
A. Slytherin - please state the clever, witty name of the bar in which you bartend, in the dark.
"Why would you bartend in the dark?" Peter screwed up his face in confusion, grabbing the application out of the air and holding it in his hand. He glared at it as if it were the source of his problems, which it really was, when he thought about it.
This was really confusing. And not at all what he'd been expecting after blowing up. Well, to be honest, he hadn't really though about what would happen post-explosion, he'd been so bent on trying to prevent it. Peter knew he wasn't dead (...though Nathan might be...), but this was just strange. "I'd name it Simone's," he finished, trying for 'impatient' but mostly ending up withemo 'nostalgic'.
B. Gryffindor – Debate whether Harry should ultimately end up married to Fred or George. Use examples from a variety of world mythologies to bolster your argument.
"I don't know!" Peter threw his hands up the air in exasperation, his forehead creasing in the beginnings of frustration. "I don't even know where the hell I am, let alone who this Harry guy should marry!
Lowering his arms, Peter exhaled a measured breath, trying to calm himself down. It was hard, with the post-explosion and not knowing if Nathan was alive and hoping that everybody else was alive, but he managed. "Okay, maybe he should just wait a year and see what happens. Relationships change, and so does destiny. He might grow closer to one and not the other, and then he can get married. ...I was never the best mythology student, that's all I've got."
C. Ravenclaw – You guys are supposed to be smart. Explain why my desk is inundated with paperwork at all times, even though I’m constantly disposing of it.
"Oh, man, paperwork sucks," Peter sympathized. Who he was sympathizing with, he didn't know, but the question called for it. "My brother used to deal with it all the time," he paused awkwardly, "Or maybe he still does, I don't know. And back when I was a hospice nurse, there was way too much of it to deal with. I swear it just kept multiplying. So, if you don't want heaps of it, you should probably just quit your job and become a hobo."
D. Hufflepuff – Prove you are not useless.
Abruptly, Peter's expression darkened, and he raked his hands through his hair. That was an interesting question. Could he prove he wasn't useless? Sure, he had the powers he'd picked up from other people. And he'd saved New York. But he'd earned himself exactly one dead brother.
...But maybe Nathan wasn't dead. Maybe Peter was just missing time, and they'd separated at the last moment, far enough away. Maybe. Too many maybes.
"I don't know if I can." Peter frowned at the application paper. "I mean, I can do stuff, and I think I just saved a lot of lives, but... I don't know. I hope I'm not."
6. Offer a bribe to the members of this community so that they will not squib you. Items used in bribery do not necessarily have to belong to the person offering the bribe.
Now that was going to be interesting. Everything Peter had had on his person had been burned to a crisp. He wasn't sure about this bribe business - in a family involved with the government, one tended not to look too kindly upon bribes - but perhaps he should at least offer something. Maybe, if he did, he could prove he wasn't useless.
"I guess I can help with things. Uh, moving big objects... interrogating people..." Peter struggled to find applications for his powers for more menial tasks. "I can probably melt metal now. Or... melt anything. Oh, and I can paint okay." Thanks to Isaac - though it might not be a particularly pleasant subject, depending on what the future held.
But to hell with the future, Peter wanted to know what was happening right now.
I have read the hogwarts_hocus faq, and understand it is a crazy, cracktastic sorting community and RPG. ______PP______
I have read the hogwarts_hocus rules and agree to abide by each and every one of them. _____PP______.
I agree to be a good sport and not get my knickers in a bunch. _____PP______.
One day, marmalade will rule the world. ______PP_______
(Second warning under cut for potential series spoiler: If your character is thinking particularly loudly, beware, Peter will hear their thoughts :P)
It turned out that exploding from radioactive power hurt like a bitch. And falling from roughly 6 feet onto a stone floor wasn't terribly pleasant, either.
At least - Peter reflected hazily, blinking as his eyes regrew - he had one thing working for him. Already he could feel what little remained of his skin duplicating from what few healthy cells were left, growing back over exposed muscle and bone. It was an odd feeling; like the tingling sensation felt after all the blood had drained out of a limb. Pins and needles. Nerves reforming with tiny sparks of sensation. Kinda painful, really.
For a while, he just lay on his back and stared at the ceiling, his brain struggling to catch up with what had just happened. It was slow in coming, so instead he just reflected on the spiderweb he could see gathering in one corner of the ceiling.
When the application paper fluttered into existence and appeared on a table next to him, Peter decided he couldn't be bothered moving his neck, let alone his whole body. With a gesture, he floated the paper over and let it hover a few inches away from his face, squinting to read it.
1. What is your favorite cheese? Why is it your favorite?
"Mozzarella," he answered absently. "Food should be fun, and mozzarella is kind of challenging in a fun way seeing how it's so stringy."
Why the hell was he answering questions about cheese? As a break in his skull sealed over, Peter inhaled sharply in surprise. Shit, he'd blown up. His dreams came true, and he really had absorbed Ted's power and been unable to control it. Peter scrambled upwards, accidentally smacking his face into the paper in a particularly dorky move, and threw one hand out to grasp the table for balance.
Nathan. Shouldn't Nathan be here? They'd been together when he'd blown up, he thought, and... oh, shit. Nathan wouldn't survive that. He might have saved the cheerleader, saved the world (or, really, just New York city to be precise), but he'd killed his brother. He'd killed Nathan. All because he couldn't control a little nuclear power.
2. Who would you kill first, Barney or Carrottop?
After glancing at the next question, it struck Peter as being rather ironic. "I don't want to kill any more people," he answered, the shock of the situation so overwhelming that he still didn't really understand what was going on.
"I just helped kill Sylar, and..." His brother. "I don't really want any more blood on my hands. I don't know if Barney actually has blood," he took a moment to babble, "But even if he did, I wouldn't. Wouldn't, couldn't, and shouldn't."
3. What time is it where you are?
That was a good question, actually. A look at his wrist confirmed that his watch had likely melted off in the explosion. Which meant... oh god. Suddenly panicked, Peter stared down at himself. His clothes definitely didn't survive the explosion. On the fortunate side, 90% of his body was still mostly unrecognizable as even being human - still black and twisted and burnt. He'd been ignoring the pain so far.
"I don't know the time, but... I-I, um, I think I need some clothes," Peter answered, his voice strangled, trying in vain to cover himself and looking horribly embarrassed. He wasn't sure what the small, deformed things that brought them were, but at soon as provided clothes appeared on the table, Peter fled (which meant he mostly stumbled) behind a curtain that the same weird-ass creatures had set up. The still-floating application bobbed along after him.
Eventually he wandered back out, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt far too large for him. With a frown, Peter lifted his shirt and pressed his hands down on a few ribs that had broken the skin, popping them back into place so that they could heal properly. Finally, he was almost back to human.
4. If you were Albus Dumbledore returned from the dead, which member of the Order of the Phoenix would you sexually harass? How would you harass them? If you are Albus Dumbledore, please answer as if you were Sirius Black.
"Uh." Peter scratched the back of head, not noticing when flakes of burnt skin and dried blood fluttered to the floor. "I don't really... know any of them, so, I dunno. I don't think I'd want to sexually harass someone anyway, that's kind of crazy."
He looked at his hand and grimaced, trying to scrape dried blood out from under his fingernails. Just because he was completely healed now, it didn't mean that he wasn't covered in dirt and blood. He really needed a shower.
...Thank god his hair was okay!
5. If you are pushing to be in:
A. Slytherin - please state the clever, witty name of the bar in which you bartend, in the dark.
"Why would you bartend in the dark?" Peter screwed up his face in confusion, grabbing the application out of the air and holding it in his hand. He glared at it as if it were the source of his problems, which it really was, when he thought about it.
This was really confusing. And not at all what he'd been expecting after blowing up. Well, to be honest, he hadn't really though about what would happen post-explosion, he'd been so bent on trying to prevent it. Peter knew he wasn't dead (...though Nathan might be...), but this was just strange. "I'd name it Simone's," he finished, trying for 'impatient' but mostly ending up with
B. Gryffindor – Debate whether Harry should ultimately end up married to Fred or George. Use examples from a variety of world mythologies to bolster your argument.
"I don't know!" Peter threw his hands up the air in exasperation, his forehead creasing in the beginnings of frustration. "I don't even know where the hell I am, let alone who this Harry guy should marry!
Lowering his arms, Peter exhaled a measured breath, trying to calm himself down. It was hard, with the post-explosion and not knowing if Nathan was alive and hoping that everybody else was alive, but he managed. "Okay, maybe he should just wait a year and see what happens. Relationships change, and so does destiny. He might grow closer to one and not the other, and then he can get married. ...I was never the best mythology student, that's all I've got."
C. Ravenclaw – You guys are supposed to be smart. Explain why my desk is inundated with paperwork at all times, even though I’m constantly disposing of it.
"Oh, man, paperwork sucks," Peter sympathized. Who he was sympathizing with, he didn't know, but the question called for it. "My brother used to deal with it all the time," he paused awkwardly, "Or maybe he still does, I don't know. And back when I was a hospice nurse, there was way too much of it to deal with. I swear it just kept multiplying. So, if you don't want heaps of it, you should probably just quit your job and become a hobo."
D. Hufflepuff – Prove you are not useless.
Abruptly, Peter's expression darkened, and he raked his hands through his hair. That was an interesting question. Could he prove he wasn't useless? Sure, he had the powers he'd picked up from other people. And he'd saved New York. But he'd earned himself exactly one dead brother.
...But maybe Nathan wasn't dead. Maybe Peter was just missing time, and they'd separated at the last moment, far enough away. Maybe. Too many maybes.
"I don't know if I can." Peter frowned at the application paper. "I mean, I can do stuff, and I think I just saved a lot of lives, but... I don't know. I hope I'm not."
6. Offer a bribe to the members of this community so that they will not squib you. Items used in bribery do not necessarily have to belong to the person offering the bribe.
Now that was going to be interesting. Everything Peter had had on his person had been burned to a crisp. He wasn't sure about this bribe business - in a family involved with the government, one tended not to look too kindly upon bribes - but perhaps he should at least offer something. Maybe, if he did, he could prove he wasn't useless.
"I guess I can help with things. Uh, moving big objects... interrogating people..." Peter struggled to find applications for his powers for more menial tasks. "I can probably melt metal now. Or... melt anything. Oh, and I can paint okay." Thanks to Isaac - though it might not be a particularly pleasant subject, depending on what the future held.
But to hell with the future, Peter wanted to know what was happening right now.
I have read the hogwarts_hocus faq, and understand it is a crazy, cracktastic sorting community and RPG. ______PP______
I have read the hogwarts_hocus rules and agree to abide by each and every one of them. _____PP______.
I agree to be a good sport and not get my knickers in a bunch. _____PP______.
One day, marmalade will rule the world. ______PP_______
no subject
May was on her way back to her room when she found herself in the Sorting Room instead. Geez, it was so easy to get lost in this school. She was about to turn and try another route, but the application and the applicant gave her pause. Wow. Well, at least she could help with the "where you are" part.
"Hi. Um, I'm going to go out on a limb here and guess you didn't mean to come here, right? Are - are you okay?" Probably a stupid question, but she really wanted to help the guy. He sounded like he'd been through hell.
no subject
Moments later, Peter shook his head sharply as he realized he'd gotten carried away in his thoughts. "Sorry," he smiled slightly. "Yeah, I'm okay. A little shellshocked, but... nothing a bit of water won't cure." Nathan probably wasn't okay. Peter grimaced at the thought, and pushed it to the back of his mind. "Queens, huh? I recognize that accent."
no subject
Water, she could help with. "Excuse me," May said politely to one of the remaining house elves - she hadn't made a deal with one yet, she'd been too busy to have the chance - who was milling about. "Could you please get two cold bottles of water?" The elf nodded, and was off like a shot.
"Yeah, out in Forest Hills. You know the area?" Small talk was kind of hard when you had just watched someone basically grow back burned body parts. I've never seen anyone heal that fast - well, maybe Wolverine, but that was just a scratch! "Um, I'm May."
The house elf returned with the bottled water, and May took them both, handing one to Peter. "So - I mean - what happened to you?" Oh, nice. Real subtle, Parker, ask him about the near-death experience right off the bat.
no subject
With an expression somewhere between shocked and disturbed, Peter watched the house elf as it ran off to do her bidding. What were those things? Surely they couldn't have been human once, right?
"Oh, yeah, kinda," Peter replied, breaking away from his wandering thoughts about the house elf. "I mean, I know of it, never been there myself."
He took the water bottle with a grateful smile, drinking some of it before promptly tipping the rest of it over his head, trying to wash away the grime. Her question caught him slightly off guard - and he hadn't heard her thoughts, having not been really concentrating on mind reading - but Peter answered anyway. "Name's Peter. I, uh, blew up. Radioactive power," he summarized shortly.
no subject
"Eh. You're not missing much. It's Queens." Forest Hills was actually a pretty decent neighborhood
when you didn't take into account the occasional supervillain wannabe attacking her family, and it was home, but it was otherwise standard.Since she was thinking about home when Peter told her his name, the coincidence made her blink for a second. "You blew up?" Wow, it was a good thing he could heal like that. "How come?" He seemed a little hesitant, so she added, "You said you think you saved a lot of people, so there's got to be more to it than that. Am I right, or do you just want me to Sort you and leave it alone?"
no subject
And for a moment, Peter did hesitate about explaining how he blew up, but finally he decided that truth was the better option. Until he got back to New York, he'd probably be staying here, and May seemed nice enough. He smiled wryly. "No, you're right. It's a long story, what with the destiny and predicting the future and all. But, ah, I... if anybody has special abilities, like... flying or whatever, then I mimic them. Just sorta something in my DNA. I ended up absorbing radioactive power from a guy, but I couldn't control it. I blew up, but at least I didn't take out half of New York city like I predicted."
It sounded weird, even to him, summing it up like that. But he offered May another grin, this one halfway between apologetic and mischievous. "So, any special abilities of note? I should probably know before I accidentally discover one of them.'
((Screened to Peter and Mayday))
He inadvertently absorbed powers. And they'd been standing right there talking for a few minutes. "Accidentally discover...? Oh, crap," May moaned, drawing a hand across her face and muttering something that sounded like "grounded until I'm 40."
She briefly considered pretending there weren't any abilities; wall-crawling took a bit of actual concentration, repelling objects could be explained as telekinesis, and if he mimicked powers that often, he could have easily picked up the strength and agility from half the school.
But... there was the damn spider-sense. The one power she'd inherited from Dad that was actually stronger for whatever reason. And it would go off and he'd have no clue what the hell it was.
Besides, even without that, her immediate facepalm pretty much gave it away.
Well, at least she could ensure that she didn't broadcast the conversation to the rest of the school. "Hold on a second," she finally told him, composing herself and pulling her wand out from where she'd tucked it in her belt. She quickly ran through the series of motions required to screen their conversation, something she'd taught herself early on, and was gratified at the faint sparks that drifted down like dust motes.
She turned back to Peter, who was probably wondering what the heck she was doing. "Okay. Good. I guess it's kind of obvious that the answer is 'yes,' but could you first promise not to tell anyone else?"
Re: ((Screened to Peter and Mayday))
He hadn't meant to accidentally reveal anything on her behalf, it was just that he'd felt something being absorbed. When it was only one thing, Peter didn't really notice, but this had felt like several somethings. And he didn't want to lose control of anything he absorbed again.
Well, by now it was pretty obvious that she at least had some rather special abilities. "Of course," he agreed, completely earnest. "I guess I was kinda forced to be open about all this stuff, but your secret's safe with me."
Re: ((Screened to Peter and Mayday))
Okay, she was such a sucker for puppy-dog eyes. This confirmed it. "Not your fault," May reassured him. "At least this -" here she indicated the fading sparks - "ought to keep everyone else from overhearing. I learned this a few weeks after I got here.
"Problem is, it's kind of a family secret. Specialness sorta runs in my family, and you figure out about me, it's not hard to connect to my Dad, and my uncle, and so on. It's not anything bad, but Dad kinda went the vigilante route before I was born." Never mind that her uncle was long dead, the family would never get any peace. If her dad's identity ever became public... yeah, she didn't want to think about the fallout there.
She chewed on her thumbnail for a second, and then decided to spit it all out. "Um, if you find yourself a little stronger than usual, climbing up walls, repelling objects, jumping really high or getting this buzzing feeling right before something bad is going to happen, you probably got it from me. But the climbing up walls part actually takes a little bit of concentration." She grinned, embarrassed. "Unless it's 1 am and you're on a sugar high and trying to finish the worst History paper ever."
Re: ((Screened to Peter and Mayday))
Peter had already absorbed strength from Niki, and repelling items already happened after he'd gained Sylar's telekinesis - none the less, the list made his eyes widen. Normally people only had one ability (if one discounted himself, and Sylar), but May was extraordinary.
"Wow," Peter said, a grin beginning to break out over his expression. He definitely understood why she would want to keep it a secret, considering it ran in the family, but... wow.
Yeah, he'd definitely be sick tomorrow with everything he was absorbing - from May, and others. But for now, Peter couldn't stop grinning. "That's amazing. You can seriously do all that? Man, that must have been interesting to grow up with," he babbled. He was going to be able to climb up walls? ...Cool.
Re: ((Screened to Peter and Mayday))
May blinked, surprised at his enthusiastic reaction. After the whole anti-mutant fiasco when her classmate was outed, she'd started to expect the opposite from people. Go figure. "Uh, yeah," she said, feeling a bit embarrassed. "I didn't grow up with it, though; I was pretty normal until about a year ago. Genetics kicked in right in the middle of a basketball game and Dad had a LOT of explaining to do."
She chuckled. "Wow, I think Mom would have gone insane if I could have done any of that when I was little. She had a hard enough time of it when I could only hide in department store clothing racks."
Re: ((Screened to Peter and Mayday))
Something else from the application popped into her mind, and she sobered suddenly. She'd been so distracted by Peter's healing and her accidental outing that she'd almost missed it. "While this is private - who's Sylar? And why did you help kill him?" He really didn't strike her as a killer, so there had to be something else.
Having just gotten back from a brief but accidental trip home, May hadn't been to Sylar's Sorting and had yet to encounter him.
Re: ((Screened to Peter and Mayday))
The question about Sylar, though, dropped the grin from his face. "A guy that I've spent the last few months trying to stop," he replied. "He, ah... well, you know how I just told you that I absorb abilities? He does that too, only, he kills them and takes their brain out of their skulls to do it."
Well, that was a bit morbid. True, but morbid. Peter smiled wryly, apologetic. "He needed to be stopped, however that could happen."
Re: ((Screened to Peter and Mayday))
It was nice to have your family understand what was going on - well, when your father wasn't grounding you at every turn when you wanted to use your powers to keep people you cared about from being squashed like bugs. (And what was she supposed to do when the high school janitor got a hold of some mystic thing, turned into a monster and tried to take it out on the students? Stand there and watch?) At least they'd finally come to an agreement.
May had seen a lot of weird stuff since she'd gotten her powers, but even so, the answer caught her off guard. "He... takes people's brains to take their powers? What the hell? I thought I'd heard some weird stuff, but that's just - sick!"
She didn't comment on the "however that could happen" part. Killing was a line she had yet to cross, even by accident.
Re: ((Screened to Peter and Mayday))
That was probably a little morbid, but Peter couldn't help it - the more people that knew about the threat Sylar posed, the better. Even if there was a no-kill 'spell' (or whatever it was) around the castle, that didn't stop him from playing with someones brain.
Re: ((Screened to Peter and Mayday))
Then it hit her. "Wait. What he does? Didn't you help kill--" Six months at Hogwarts had taught her that a number of dead people could show up at the school; one of the first friends she'd made here had been dead before she'd arrived. "Oh, no. Don't tell me he's here!"
Re: ((Screened to Peter and Mayday))
But here probably wasn't the place to dwell on his failing. "Yeah, he's here. But he can't kill anybody here, and I... tend to know when he's going to try," he almost smiled. "Keeping quiet about what you can do is probably the best method to avoid him."
Re: ((Screened to Peter and Mayday))
Now she was doubly glad she'd warded the conversation; she didn't know this Sylar guy from Adam, and he could very well be standing around in the crowd for all she knew. "Yeah, I've gotten into the habit of doing that already," she said, glancing around apprehensively. "But what if he tries on someone else?" Someone who was special enough to get his attention but not strong enough to fight back or get away?
Dammit, why did she have to get sent home during the Defense against the Dark Arts class?