On his daily lap to monitor the middle floor corridors, Foster had made it to the third floor corridor. He methodically walked them, one corridor after another, looking for any students out of place, not dressed in full uniform, or behaving in a way that was unbecoming of a Hogwarts student. It wasn't his favorite task, but he enjoyed the walk and had always followed his duty with a cup of tea.

As he turned the corner and started down the corridor, he noticed a taller gentleman, most definitely not a student, at the far end. Once he took a few more steps, he realized it was Professor Marchand. "Good day, Gaston. I hope I find you well."

Gaston spent most of his time holed up in his office these days. The less he roamed, the less likely he was to cross paths with Headmaster Scrimgeour. Merlin, that man set his teeth on edge! Unfortunately today he had no choice but to leave the sanctity of his office; he had a few books to return to the library. He wandered down the hall toward the stairs, keeping his head down to avoid accidental eye contact with anyone he passed. He just wanted to return the books and get back to his office as soon as possible!

A sudden voice startled him, and as his head jerked up, he saw Foster. Granted, he hadn't had much interaction with the man yet, but he seemed like a nice person. He smiled at him... or at least, he would've had he not been in a state of emotional turmoil. For now, a polite nod would have to do. "Hello, Foster," he replied, though his expression changed slightly at the man's next words. One look in his shadowed, red-rimmed eyes would make it obvious that he was was not well, but he didn't want to burden Foster with his personal problems. "Thank you; that's very kind. How are you?"

Skyler was on her way to the owlery, but got lost in the huge castle. The stair cades moved a s threw her off a bit, almost literally. As she headed back, she noticed two professors talking to eachother.
"Good afternoon professors," she had to force it because her body was stiff with fear. Despite it being lunch time, she was still afraid she might be in trouble.

He continued down the corridor, approaching where Gaston was standing. "I'm well. Thank you." He smiled brightly, thankful to be talking to another adult and not having to worry about feeling pressured to take points for some infraction. "I'm out doing some hall monitoring." He leaned in a bit closer. "At least that's what I'm calling it. It's more of my afternoon walk around the castle to I can have a few scones and not feel guilty."

He noticed his fellow professor looking a bit off. "Are you sure you are well? I can walk you back to your office if you need to sit down?" He had heard from Tristan that the professors took the brunt of the Inferi attack the previous term and he wondered just how damaging the attack had been to Gaston. Foster would have offered to take him back to his own office and make him some tea, but Gaston's office was closer.

Even when Headmaster Scrimgeour isn't standing directly in front of you in the Great Hall or during a Defence lesson, he still has managed to remind everyone of his presence. Every hour since the first day of classes, from the morning wake-up call to the calling of lights out, his gruffy voice booms from the school loudspeakers.

"No public displays of affection are allowed – not even hand-holding."

Now that it is October, have the school rules been engrained in your mind yet? You had better be following them ... or else.

Faith was doing nothing very exciting, just minding her own business as she was marching to see Professor Marchand about her education and how she was worried that she wouldn't have any access arrangements for the coming exams, and how she needed to drop Divination because despite it being a wonderful subject, because this whole military approach to an art that's about your inner desires and hopes? Not a fan.

And she was taking the announcements relatively well, until this one. Until the one about PDA.

So now they couldn't even comfort each other over this huge injustice?

And at that, she had to stop, lean her shoulder against the wall and attempt to catch her breath. It was a really bad attempt, really, especially considering how she was having even more trouble breathing and her legs were giving out and -- oh, would you look at that? Faith Chosen had slid down the wall and burst into tears.

Max was used to the hourly reminder of rules now. So much so that the voice of Headmaster Scrimgeour yelling out his stupid rules sometimes even made an appearance in his dreams which was both very uncool and very inconvenient.

These days though, he was mostly able to blot out the noise and so he didn’t even bat an eyelid as he made his way down the corridor to the sounds of more announcements. Yeah yeah yeah. Same old, same old. Booooring.

Today was obviously going far too smoothly, however, and some almighty being out there decided he needed testing because he inadvertently happened upon what seemed to be a crying Gryffindor. Faith Chosen to be precise. Uh oh.

He was pretty sure Prefect duties didn’t include comforting sobbing girls but he could hardly just walk on by…… right?

“Hey…… uhhhhhhh…” He shuffled closer, hands thrust deep in his trouser pockets as he radiated all kinds of awkward. Crying girls weren't exactly his area of expertise. “Are you okay……?” Dumb question. Clearly she wasn’t. People didn't cry when they were okay. Could you tell he was terrible at this?

Well, sense everyone was here, Skyler decided to make her exit. She quickly left to where she was going to before they could say something.

Gaston's eyes followed Foster as he approached. He nodded, still unable to return the other man's smile. "You're welcome," he replied, giving Foster a look of understanding as he explained what he was doing. "I see. I was just on the way to the library myself." He gestured to the stack of novels in his hand. Reading gave him a much needed escape from this prison of a castle! Oh, so Foster liked scones? That was news to Gaston; he wondered if he enjoyed other kinds of baked goods too. He leaned in closer, and his voice dropped as he added, "If you're ever in the mood for French pastries, I keep a supply in the bistro near my office." Maybe he should add some scones to the menu for Foster?

Foster's next words got an eyebrow raise from Gaston. He wasn't sure whether to be touched by Foster's kindness or annoyed with himself for worrying him. Was it really that obvious? He inwardly cursed himself for being such a horrible actor. "I'll be alright," he assured him. Maybe not any time soon, but he would be one day... he hoped. "I'm just a little sa- stressed." He almost said sad, but he caught himself just in time. It wasn't a lie, either. Scrimgeour's rules were putting a huge strain on his already fragile psyche.

Speaking of whom, Gaston rolled his eyes, inwardly groaning as the old man's voice blared through the intercom at that very moment. Oh, for the love of Merlin! He'd put up with the morning laps, the curfew, even the mail checks, but this was just too much! He was glad Rose left the school when she did. There was no way he could abide by that rule if she was still here; he wasn't even sure he could abide by it now. What if he needed to comfort a distraught student? Or hug a graduate goodbye? "Let me guess," he spat, realizing only after he'd spoken that Foster might misunderstand his anger. "Next we'll be expected to punish the children for public displays of emotions, too?"

His eyes darted down the corridor, and he saw a girl, one of his Lions, crying (Faith). See, this was proof that this rule did more harm than good! His overprotective dad instinct went into overdrive. They needed to get her off the floor and somewhere private, where she could have her cry without the headmaster or his lapdog wandering by to punish her for it. It was taking every ounce of restraint not to go over there! For now, he willed himself to let Mr. Carden try to handle it, though he kept eyeing the pair with concern.

Gaston was so distracted that he didn't register Miss Queen speaking at first. "Hello, Miss-" he began, but she was already leaving. He inwardly berated himself for his rudeness!

His eyes glanced to the books in Gaston’s hand and he nodded. The Hogwarts library had a wonderful supply of books and reading was a fantastic way to get away from all the chaos. “I do love French pastries.” He patted his gut. “One good thing of all the morning workouts is being able to eat far more than I normally should. I’ll have to stop by and try out your selection, thank you.” His mouth watered thinking of the treats to be had.

He was about to ask what was causing so much stress but was interrupted by what he was assuming would be the answer. The intercom blasted out another set of rules. Perfect, he thought. More reasons for him to have to take points away from students. Almost chuckling, Foster shook his head at Gaston’s words. “Be careful who hears you saying that or it might just be the next rule.” It really was getting a bit out of hand. He was all for students showing respect to the professors, being prompt to classes and following the classroom rules, but it seemed that the new headmaster took what would be a good rule and twisted it into a ridiculous mess.

Noticing the crying student, Foster looked to Gaston with concern in his eyes. It was one from his house and hit broke his heart to see a young lady brought to tears. “Do you need to check on them?” He more asked to judge if Gaston wanted him to say something or to leave the two students to work it out. Gaston would know Miss Chosen far better than he knew her from class.

The Gryffindor quietly slipped into an empty classroom, all the necessary supplies was with her in a large, totally-not-suspicious-whatsoever bag. She waited quietly (one of the only times in her life when this adjective could be used), checking the time to make sure she wasn't too early.

The others would show up soon. They were on a mission.

^_______________^

Beau was soooo ready for all of this. He’d been ready since this morning and even put on his red boxers. His GO GO boxers. Skidding into their meeting place, Beau grinned. ”Cappptain!” Yep. That she was. Always would be. His captain.

”Who’re we waiting on?”

Mission Impossible would have been a cool name for this but sadly it wasnt impossible. So kind of goes against the name. But it still would have been cool. Théo quietly made his way towards the empty classroom he was sure Zoryn and whoever else she got involved into the was in and went in. Thank merlin he got the right room.

"Hey Guys"

Ah so he was early or was this it???"

Phe had his hands jammed in his pockets and he wandered nonchalantly towards the meeting spot, his tie was pulled slack at his chest and his brown hair was messy as he rounded the corner and smirked ever so slightly as he saw who was there.

“Hey guys.. ” He said as he looked at Théo, Zoryn and Beau..

“We doing this? ” He asked with a grin.

Before the others came she cast a Muffliato on her surroundings. They didn’t need anyone overhearing this. “Beau!” Zoryn liked him. He was a good one. And not just because he refused to see Anna as their captain. Nope. Definitely other reasons. But especially the captain thing. “Just Theo and Phoenix! They’d best show up quick, ‘cause we’re not gonna wait up.”

If they wanted to execute this perfectly, they had to use the element of time to their advantage. It was of utmost importance. This was SERIOUS business.

And fortunately for everyone, the other two showed up only moments later, all in the empty classroom. All ready for WAR.

“Heck yes!” She smiled at Phoenix before commanding the room. “Okay, everyone needs disillusionment charms. Supplies are in the bag. We’ve gotta roll in and dash ASAP. WE have four minutes to make this work.” The fifth minute was to flee. The sixth year twirled her wand around her, immediately blending in to her surroundings. Disillusionment? CHECK.

Now for supplies. She grabbed herself a can of spray paint, two rotten eggs, and a few loose dung bombs. She was set. “Well don't just stand there!”