January is ending, bringing with it rain, tiredness and an onslaught of homework. Your Tuesday lessons have ended and you go back to your dorm to place your bag away before dinnertime arrives. It’s a normal, everyday activity but the sight that meets you when you arrive at your dorm is anything but normal...

You walk through the corridor towards your dorm and instantly notice that something seems off. The flickering torch shines down upon the door of your dorm hanging off of its hinges, half of it smashed to pieces. When you step over the pieces of the door, you’re met with a ghastly, heart-wrenching sight.

Your dorm, your safe haven during the term time, is in complete disarray.

Feathers float down serenely, providing a juxtaposition against the chaos of the room itself. The beds have all been stripped of their bedding and pillows and sit there looking naked and unwelcoming. What used to be on the beds have been tossed aside and ripped apart, their contents spewing across the dorm room floor.

And it doesn’t stop there. Trunks have been ransacked, the contents of which have been flung everywhere without a care in the world. Clothes, some ripped beyond repair, can be seen laying on the floor and hanging off the four-poster beds. Books have been ripped apart, their pages scattered haphazardly across the floor. Art supplies that used to paint a pretty picture now paint the calamity of the scene before you. They weren’t expensive, were they?

To make matters worse, every bedside drawer has met the same fate as every other item in the room. The contents of the drawers have been flung out of their resting places, some even shattered as they were tossed to the ground, leaving bits of glass everywhere. It seems as if someone has gone to great lengths to search the room.

If you clean up and are observant enough, you might notice that something happens to be missing...

He couldn't wait to get back to his dorm. All these people talking to him and wanting to talk to him was annoying. Why was that puff girl so determined to become his friend this year? He had to do something about her and fast.
Maybe a quick spell to take her tongue or boil potion to put her in the hospital wing. Something would have to be done and fast.

Hurrying up to his dorm he stopped and stared at the sight. What did his roommates do now to tick someone off? He half wondered if it was a girl made at Slate. Why were they all so normal?

Ugh

He didn't even care enough to keep thinking about it and headed into his room. "What the..." It got personal when he saw his own things scattered and ruined. HIS NOTEBOOK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Those were his thoughts, plans, and hit list to do list. How could they ruin that? He hadn't done anything to anyone, at least that anyone knew.

Going over to his bed, because that was all that really mattered he started trying to piece his journal back together.

Liam was in such a hurry to get to dinner that he didn't notice the door to his dormitory until he realized he didn't have to open it. Because it was hanging off it's hinges.

... and then he took in the room. He noticed the feathers first, falling slowly. Over... complete wreckage.

He made is way slowly to his bed - or what was left of it, at least. Everything was off the bed, out of his trunk, out of his bedside table. Liam didn't even want to think about what might be ruined or gone or whatever else could have happened.

He turned to Blaze, frowning. "Who did this?"

Flynn was physically exhausted after his study session with Felicity, and all he was looking forward to was going to bed even if that meant skipping dinner tonight - or at least arriving late to dinner. His brain hurt, okay?! He was making up for all those "personal days" he used to get out of class, and merlin, was he regretting now.

He had stopped by the kitchens to make himself a nice cup of hot tea before trailing down to the dungeons. Like always, he didn't greet anyone in the common room and scurried his way up the stairs into his dorm.

.........................

He stopped in the doorway and looked at the mess in front of him.

WHAT IN MERLIN'S NAME HAPPENED?!

He placed his cup of tea amidst the mess on his nightstand before looking more into the mess in front of him. The first thing he noticed was the picture of Felicity that had been given to him as a Christmas gift was shredded to pieces then he went about looking for the ticket she had also given him, which had been in his nightstand. It had to be in this mess SOMEWHERE. He took out his wand to start cleaning up what he could.

The longer he stood here looking at this mess, the more he felt the anger boil in his veins.

He heard someone coming in, but he didn't even bother to look, he didn't care. Right now all he cared about was his journal being put back together. Pulling his wand he did a reparo and hoped it would work. This was going to take him all day by hand if the spell didn't work,
but luckily it did the trick and he quickly threw it in his robe's pocket. There wouldn't be a next time because Eddie would keep it with him at all times instead of hidden in his room.

He finally did glance over when Liam spoke, "I have no clue, was like this when I got here. Figured Slate or one of you ticked off a girl or older boy." He knew it wasn't him, so it had to be one of them. "It's going to take forever to clean this mess up." He opened his trunk, "The dung is gone." Damn it was that out loud? He looked around for the dung he had stolen from Peeves at the beginning of term, what if it was a professor or something he'd get in trouble for sure.

No, it had to be around somewhere, he would find it in the mess even if he had to clean it all up himself.

Nathan just stood there and stared at the mess. Who bloody did this to his room?! His temper rises with each intake of breath. Calm down, Nathan. Nothing he knew was really lost and gone. Good thing, he wasn't stupid to leave his most valuable possessions in here. Well accept the letters he wrote to his father two years ago but of course, were left unanswered as always. Not that it mattered to him anymore. Sighing, he picked up the ripped letters that were thrown carelessly on the floor. The rest of his battered things, he would clean it up with magic later. Years of enduring all kinds of mishaps in this school have thought him not to trust anything or anyone. He suspected it could be Peeves but unlikely, he wouldn't go this far knowing he would face Bloody Baron's wrath. Hmm... the Hufflepuff ghost? The Fat Friar has been acting all strangely lately. Yup...no doubt about it.

Slate walked in and looked around. "I didn't do anything." he said calmly looking around. He'd just heard the back end of Blaze's statement. He looked at all his clothes scattered about, suddenly glad that he didn't have much to bring to school. But... it was clear just how little he brought now.

. . .

"I'm glad the dung is gone." It made up for this mess happening. That was for sure. Blaze with dung seemed like a bad idea.

He walked around his bed taking some mental inventory of what was his.

Oliver was starving. But his bag was heavy with his schoolbooks for the day so he made a stop in his dorm before dinner. He was distracted, thinking about the assignments he still had to do that night. He barely paid any attention to the flickering of the torch lights. He stepped through the door into his dorm and stopped short at the sight in front of him.

"What..." He mumbled to himself. He let his bag fall of his shoulder as he walked toward his bed. Or where his bed used to be. Now the mattress was upside down on the floor and practically shredded. And that was the least of it. His trunk was open and stuff was strewn all over the floor. He assumed most of his dormmate's things had met the same fate but for now he was concerned with his own stuff. Clothes were crumpled and torn. Bottles were broken and puddles of potions were still wet on the floor. The books he hadn't had with him were torn and ripped pages lay everywhere. And his art stuff.

Oliver was paralyzed, unable to take his eyes off the destruction and unable to really feel anything yet. Fortunately he kept a lot of his art stuff in his bag on his person. His sketchpad, a lot of paint. But he had tons more paint in his trunk. Had being the key word. Now there was paint on the floor and the walls and the wood of his bed. He sank to his knees and reached under his bed, where he kept his current paintings. All three of the projects he'd been working on were torn. He wasn't sure if even reparo could fix them. He was going to have to start over. And his old sketchbooks. He was getting more frantic now as he searched for them through the mess. Torn papers would be much harder to repair than any of his stuff and things he had drawn were irreplaceable. He'd kept a lot of other stuff in those sketchpads too. He grabbed this frantically, salvaging whatever he possibly could.

He wasn't hungry anymore. Now he was devastated. His eyes felt hot but even though he was alone he didn't want to cry. He was going to have to deal with all of this somehow. But at the moment his mind was not operating super rationally. He'd deal with it later.

Professor Vance left the Girl's dormitories briefly to see to the boys before she sent a patronus after Regina and River and also arranged for dinner to be brought up from the kitchens. As she took the right staircase up to the boy's dorms she decided that she'd let everyone sleep in sleeping bags on the common room floor for the night with Vivian and Oliver in charge. There were many shocked, scared, sad and distraught students among her snakes and Laurel was going make sure that they slept well.

As she went up to look for Oliver she first went past the third year dorms where she saw Edward, Slate and Liam standing in a dorm that mirrored the heart wrenching, anger building demolishment that all the girl's dorms showcased. Sticking her head into the room briefly Professor Vance said "Liam, Edward and Slate are you all right? Have seen any sign of who might have utterly demolished the dorm? Can you all please look through your belongings to see if anything is missing and then report to me I'll be up in the seventh year dorms."

With that said she left the third year boys and then went past the fourth and fifth year dorms where she instructed both Nathan and Flynn to also look through their scattered and ripped belongings to see if anything was missing. Laurel then went up to the seventh year dorm where she found a devastated looking Oliver searching through the mess by his bed. "Oliver?" Laurel called out. "Oliver, are you all right? I need you to help me start ordering clean up of all the dorms and also to help the younger years look through their belongings to see if anything is missing. All the girl's dorms were hit too."

Patrick looked around his dorm. He couldn't believe it, everything was a wreck. He heard some of the older students upstairs taking in the damage to their own dorms. "The one time I make my bed like mama always told me to do and everything gets destroyed." He huffed out with his hands falling at his sides, smacking his thighs. Silently walking over to the bed he began to rifle through his own things trying to make sure everything was there.

A few of his shirts were torn completely apart, one of them from his old school which made him sad since he kept it to remember his friends that he missed at this point in the year. His mattress would be useless now, it was shredded. His books were laying near his night stand since that was where he kept them. He started looking at the books realizing that he had kept his journals in there, the ones for his family related thoughts.

Moving a bit quicker he looked into the drawer that was upside down and saw his journals still inside. He picked up the drawer and put it back in his nightstand and began to put away his clothes that were still intact. He hadn't heard anything from Professor Vance or any of the Prefects so he figured he should just start cleaning up. His mama would ground him for life if he left a mess in a place like this.

He had already begun picking up and was thankful his journal was in his robes pocket when Slate and now the head of the house was there. How did she even know something happened, could she be the reason it happened? Did the professors call a search of rooms? What were they looking for? He eyed the woman as she had come in.

"The dung wasn't bothering you." He said quietly to Slate before turning to face the professor. "It was like this when I got in here ma'am. Noone was around, just the place a destroyed mess." He was certainly not going to say about the dung missing. "Haven't noticed anything of mine missing. Just destroyed."

Turning back he started to clean using his wand.

Oliver was lowkey but actually really highkey freaking out about his things. Mainly his art. Other things were replaceable but his art. So much of it - and he did a lot of art - was destroyed. He heard footsteps coming up and at first assumed it was one of his dormmates. But when he heard the voice he stopped his searching, took a deep breath, and stood.

"Y...Yeah I'm fine, professor." He had to be a prefect now and push down his own fears and sadness for the time being. "Okay, I can do that. I'll go down to the younger boys' dorms right now. See if anything is missing and see if they need help repairing anything or cleaning up." He still had some torn bits of paper in his hand and went over to gingerly set it next to his bed. He would deal with the rest of his stuff later. For now he'd go help the younger boys.

He headed to the first year dorms and stepped through where the door should have been. "Patrick? Need some help in here?"

Patrick looked up from the mess on the floor and saw Oliver walk into his dorm. Everything was destroyed for the most part he couldn't believe something like this would tear up the dorms like this. "That'd be really helpful. He stood from the ground and looked over all of his things, "do we know what happened yet?"

"I'm fine." Slate replied looking around. He wasn't ransacked like the room was. He shook his head at the next question. No idea who or anything. It seems like everyone had just gotten there.

Maybe she should start with anyone that skipped class today.

"Will do, Professor." he said picking up one of his ripped textbooks. Maybe he ought to wait until Blaze was done first. He had a nasty feeling he didn't want to discover any of his dormmate's hidden... dung.

"And now it won't get the chance to."