[PV] Snake eyes

[Rafael Corvesso]

Thursday September 18, 2025

A little over two weeks was all the time it had taken for the case of a second delinquent to reach Professor Corvesso's desk. He had been keeping an eye on the first, Mr Fondatore @Devon Fondatore , for a while now. That boy had rather impressively managed to land himself in detention on his first day of school. Although… could it really be called detention? It had been more like a little nudge back in the right direction, making idle hands do some light work. Fondatore had not broken the rules since, to Rafael's knowledge, but whether that meant he had taken the lesson to heart remained to be seen. No need yet to make him scour burnt cauldrons the muggle way.

The case of Mr. Murray @Archer Murray was a bit different. Breaking curfew was in many regards a more ordinary violation. Alerting half the school's staff in the process however was not. Little did the boy know that he had been saved from four hours of dull work and was about to receive a punishment more suitable to his character and to the severity of his crime. Murray had undeniably broken curfew - little more than a rite of passage in Rafael's mind - but that was not what had caused him to take up the case. Murray's story had been a rather unlikely one, at least the version he had heard tell. It painted Ms Hathaway as a vigilante hero who has taken it upon herself to capture wandering first years. There were certainly sticklers for the rules like that among the studentry, like that one first year Mercator boy @Luke Campbell who felt an irresistible urge to correct both students and professors alike, but Ms Hathaway? He couldn't claim to know her particularly well, but she was old enough to be aware that Professors and prefects looked after ridding the halls of insomniacs.

Rafael sat down behind his desk with a sigh and rubbed his eyes. Sleep was a scarce commodity at Penwick, not a day went by without a minor incident of some kind. The more tenured Professors were more accustomed to it perhaps, more willing to let things sort themselves out. Time had a funny way of eroding more than just memories.

Inevitably his eyes were drawn to the small, whirring brass instrument on his desk. To the untrained eye the device seemed utterly indecipherable, six rotating clockfaces, each with their own handles turning and clicking at different rates. He eyed it for a while, wondering like he often had if the device truly worked. With a sigh he pushed it behind a stack of books, out of sight, but still softly audible.

He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes for a short while. Mr Murray’s guilty face was not due to arrive for another five minutes.

—

Wednesday September 17, 2025

While the fifth-year students Rafael had taught would be familiar with Memisi, the Australian first-year was unlikely to be (unless he’d spent some time in the depths of the library). The turbaned, wrinkled gnome-sized creature that had come skittering toward the boy would’ve almost certainly registered as an escaped garden gnome or a very odd looking house-elf. Niko, as the big-headed creature was called, had chosen a rather unfortunate moment to make himself known. Just when young Archer was passing through one of the darker, lonelier passages of Penwick, he had jumped out in front of the boy with wide eyes and an even wider, almost creepy grin.

Several golden earrings on the creature’s wrinkled ears glinted in the half-dark as he made the faintest of bows. “Murray…” he said while eyeing the young student. The memisi circled around the boy in silence save for the faint clinking of his loose metal armbands, as though he was searching for something - valuables perhaps - but couldn’t find them on the boy. When he had completed his circling, the creature pressed its lips together and fetched a crumpled note from his coat with many patched pockets. “Murray message…” said the creature, handing the boy the note. “Murray message!” he insisted impatiently, waving the note in the boy’s face. ”Niko Murray message!”

No sooner than the boy would have taken it, the gnomes-sized creature would whirl around and vanish, the soft tickling of his many pocketed trinkets the only sign that he wasn’t some figment of the boy’s imagination.

The note read:

Mr Murray,

Come to my office after your classes on Thursday without delay for your detention. Bring your dragon-hide gloves.

Professor Corvesso
Head of House Dranaga.

[Archer Murray]

September 17th, 2025

Archer wanders through the halls of Penwick, still playing the events from last night in his mind. He doesn't understand what went wrong—a most irritating plight. Is he broken? Defective? Beset by some magical deficiency? Not knowing where he went wrong is only making his frustration worse. He believes he knows what is coming. Any moment now, a member of the faculty will approach him, shaking their head disapprovingly. They will say something to the effect of, "you should have known better, Mr Murray," and then hand him some sort of slip. Archer has already made peace with the fact that detention is likely going to be torment. He understands that he could have thrown Briar into the crosshairs, at least taking her down with him, but what good would have that done? He doesn't need any enemies at Penwick. Especially not her.

Archer sighs. This is wrong; this is not how he envisioned his first year. He wonders what sort of monotonous assignments he will be tasked with in detention. Archer's train is interrupted when—out of seemingly nowhere—a strange creature jumps out at him.
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AGILITY
In a flash, your wand is already in your hands.

PHYSIQUE
Kill it!

SORCERY
Kill it how exactly? You can't cast a spell to save your life. Best to just show that wand before you hurt yourself.
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The creature is an ugly thing. It is about the height of a gnome, its face wearing wrinkles like cracks in the dirt. A large head with even larger eyes is attached to the creature's body, seeming almost too big. An exaggerated grin—wider than any smile should be—is plastered on the creature's face. It circled him like a vulture, seemingly searching for something. Fortunately, it does not find what it is looking for.

"What the hell are you...?" Archer questions aloud.

The gnome-sized thing is ignores him. Instead, it speaks: "Murray message... Murray message! Niko Murray message!" It waved around a small piece of paper in his face. Archer takes it, the entity vanishing with a whirl moments after.
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INTELLIGENCE
I'm not even going to try explaining that.

SORCERY
Me neither.
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Archer reads it. Sighs.

"Alright then..."

September 18th, 2025

"This is bloody stupid," says Gage Frawley, a fifth-year student with whom Archer has become acquainted.

The teenager had offered to walk him to detention as Archer does not know Penwick's layout all that well. However, in truth, he only wants to try and talk him out of attending. He knows the truth about what happened that night—about the incident. To him, Briar is in the wrong. She was the one who snuck out after all, also being the one who inadvertently encouraged Archer to use magic.

"You should just flunk it, Archer. Maybe get this passed on to Briar. I could organise something to get you out..." He tells the boy.

Archer shakes his head. "No. I gotta take what's coming to me." He seems adamant about this.

Gage groans and rolls his eyes. "Has 'taking what's coming to them' ever worked out for anybody? Has that ever gotten anyone anything? If you keep living like that, kid, you're never gonna get anything you want."
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INTELLIGENCE
You need to put this guy in his place. Hit him with some pedantry.

SPIRIT
Make your stance on this matter clear—crystal clear. He needs to understand that you can make your own decisions.
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"Well," Archer begins, "what if I want to not screw someone else over for my mistakes? It just isn't right to do that..."

Gage shakes his head. "Whatever, man."

Gage looks ahead, the door to Professor Corvesso's office promising doom beyond the threshold.

"Good luck, kid. You're gonna need it."

And with that, Gage walks off. Archer enters.

"Professor...?"

[Rafael Corvesso]

Rafael's eyes opened at the muffled sound of voices just past the door. One sounded high and bright, the other low and easy. A simple spell could have easily revealed what was being said, but Rafael let his visitor have his privacy. He imagined one of the upper years on the other end of the door, handing out some free advice, or perhaps raising expectations on the kind of gruelling punishment Mr Murray was surely about to receive.

The door handle came down. The boy entered. He didn't knock, Rafael observed. A small transgression, easily excused by nerves or, more likely, a certain innate kind of bravado.

Rafael straightened in his chair and fixed the boy in the doorway with a steady look. "Mr. Murray, I presume? Please sit."

Rafael gestured to the chair across from his desk. It was heavy and high-backed and had the unfortunate effect of making those sitting in it look rather small.

The boy before him was slight and sun-touched, the kind of tan that Welsh summers couldn't produce. He was lean and wiry, with ruffled dirty-blonde hair and wide, round eyes. There was a brightness to them which Rafael guessed to be one two things: either an eager mind or an appetite for trouble. Judging by Mr Murray's presence in his office two weeks after the year had started, he currently presumed the latter, but the lack of trembling lips and downcast eyes practically confirmed it.

He let another moment pass, allowing the boy to settle into the discomfort of the chair and the weight of the occasion. Then he leaned forward slightly, resting his forearms on the desk.

"I'll spare you the lecture, Mr. Murray. You broke curfew, which is against the rules." His tone was even, neither harsh nor gentle, but matter-of-factly. "I'm certain this has been thoroughly explained to you. And I am equally certain that you will remember to abide by the rules from now on."

He paused, tilting his head just slightly, gauging the boy's reaction. His dark eyes hadn't stopped fixing the first-year all this time.

"But that's not why I had you come to my office. What interests me rather more is what motivated you to break it. Curiosity is not a sin, but what I heard was rather unusual. Let me see..." Rafael opened a slim folder, largely for effect, as he had already committed the relevant details to memory the day prior. "You said you went out to practice magic?" He looked up from the folder and gave the Modron boy a quizzical look. "That seems a rather foolish thing to do in the middle of the night." And even more foolish to admit, if it were true. Rafael thought. Why give more cause for punishment instead of less? The boy could have said he was sleepwalking and though no one would have believed it, he would've been better off than admitting to performing midnight magic. "You are aware we have rooms for this which you, like any other student, are free to use during the day?"

He leaned back and laced his fingers together. A turquoise ring on his right hand caught the last light of the day streaming in through the windows. Perhaps another nudge... he thought.

"I'm rather curious who-" he glanced down briefly at the folder, "-who Ms Hathaway is to you?"

Rafael waited then, his gaze patient but unwavering. He had his suspicions, but perhaps the boy would wisen up and be forthcoming.

The brass instrument on his desk clicked softly behind the stack of books, marking the passage of time in its own inscrutable way. He had no intention of rushing the boy. Rushing produced rehearsed answers, and rehearsed answers were not worth hearing. The only answer worth knowing was the truth, or at least whatever version of it Mr. Murray was willing to part with.

@Archer Murray

[Archer Murray]

Seated behind a large, organised desk is Rafael Corvesso. The man before him looks about thirty-something, but Archer thinks that he may be a little younger. He looks like someone well-travelled—a man with stories. He sits with a straight posture, his demeanour composed and his gaze unwavering. He is tall with a lean frame, the light of the space complimenting his olive skin. His outfit is distinct; a mix of robes and silks from a vast array of places that gives him a uniquely intriguing appearance. It is easy to understand why a man like this would be in charge of House Dranaga. The man gestures to a uncomfortable-looking, pathetic chair positioned in front of his desk. Archer sits.
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SPIRIT
Classic power play. This chair—hell, the whole bit—is to make you feel small and weak. You can't let this man get in your head. Don't reveal anything to him.

PHYSIQUE
Remember: you have nothing to lose but your chains!

INTELLIGENCE
And your studenthood.
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The high-backed chair forces Archer to sit up uncomfortably straight—another bid to get students to break, he guesses. At first, Corvesso remains silent, letting the moment simmer. Archer too remains silent, determined not to be the one to speak first. At last, Corvesso begins his spiel. He spares the lecture, considering it pointless in this instance. Archer nods.
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SOCIAL
It takes a moment for the realisation to set in, but that tilt of his head indicates that he is assessing you. He is trying to pry information from you without you even needing to divulge it.

SPIRIT
Keep calm. Keep composed. You've got this, okay?
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Corvesso opens a large folder. To Archer, it seems almost needlessly large, as though half of the pages were empty and merely present for the intimidation factor. By the subtle shift Archer performs in his seat, it seems to be working. Regardless, he is still mostly keeping it together. He questions the boy on his misdemeanour.

"I did." He makes no attempt to deny or deflect the claims. "And I know. I've been using them, but... I wanted to practice under the stars for a bit, too. It's silly, I know."

But then...That damn name. Hathaway. That witch who makes every spell spell seem so effortless. He isn't sure if it's admiration or envy, but Briar's mere presence brought about feelings he does not like to acknowledge.
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SPIRIT
Oh no...
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"Briar is nothing to me." The answer comes out just a little too quick. "She's just the one who saw me sneaking out. I already told the other professors that; there's nothing else to know." He seems slightly agitated. "Let's just get this punishment over with, yeah?"
────────────────────────────
PHYSIQUE
I agree. We can take it!

[Rafael Corvesso]

"And are you on a first-name basis with anyone else who means nothing to you, Murray?"

Rafael cocked his head sideways, knowing full well his question would likely be met with a stammer or no answer at all. It was obvious there was more to this tale than the blonde boy was letting on, but what? What kind of spellwork could not bear the light of day? What kind of books and magic had this boy been meddling with? He's only a first-year... Rafael thought to himself.

Murray had undoubtedly been up to something, but it was hard to imagine an eleven-year old dabbling in dark magic, never mind one who carried himself with such ease. Besides, magic of that sort always left a mark, and he could see none on the boy; evasiveness was not an admission of guilt. Perhaps he needs a moment, thought Rafael. Pressing for answers was unlikely to prove fruitful at this time. Best to back off for now, let the boy think. There was more than one way to extract answers out of someone reluctant to give them.

"Since you're so keen," said Rafael as he stood up. "I hope you brought those gloves. You'll need them. Follow me, please." His long silk robe rustled faintly as he moved toward the door and pushed it open, gesturing for the boy to step through. He lead the way with long strides, saying nothing except for a polite greeting whenever they passed another Professor on the faculty wing. Then they turned and headed down to the second floor, then the first, but it wasn't until they had reached the ground floor that Rafael slowed enough to let Murray catch up to him.

"This way, please." Thought they had passed many corridors, Murray was sure to recognize the rotunda that made up the entrance hall. A handful of students milled about, many of them on their way to their common rooms or some other spot to relax and wind down after classes. A few heads turned and followed the odd pair as they made for the grand double doors, one of which Rafael held open for Murray to step through. The mild autumn weather greeted them with a gentle breeze.

"The groundskeep maintains a garden just outside the castle walls," Rafael finally explained while he walked briskly down the broad, mossy road leading across the grounds and toward the thick, squat walls surrounding Penwick proper. There were a few more students out and about on the grounds, practising their flying, or simply taking a walk, but they would soon be heading inside to kick up their feet.

"Unfortunately it became infested with gnomes and since she is presently away on Penwick business, someone will have to degnome it before things get out of hand." A faint, not unkind smile, spread across his face as he glanced at the Modron boy. "We're almost there..." They passed under the gate of the walls, and descended down a winding path shadowed by trees until they came upon a smaller one that branched off the main road.

The narrow path lead to a clearing of small, charming country house with a thatched roof and a kitchen garden. "I don't know if you've dealt with them before, but they've got a nasty little bite in them. Hence the gloves," said Rafael while he led them to a shed, adjacent to the house. He fished a key out of his pocket, unlocked the rickety shed and rummaged around for a while before depositing two cages at Murray's feet. "The trick is to grab them by the head or neck and give them a good shake until they're dizzy and then..." he pointed a feet at one of the cages. "Or you could chuck them over the garden wall, of course, but in my experience that means they'll be back within the week. You want to be looking out for little heaps of dirt, like molehills. I'd start around the pumpkin patch if I were you. I'll be inside."

The words rolled so easily off Rafael's tongue that Murray might not even think it strange that his Professor was going to enter the groundskeeper's house and- do what exactly?

"Give a knock once you've caught and caged four of them." That ought to keep him busy for a while... Rafael thought to himself, he would be lucky to capture one. Gnomes were tricky to get a hold off, especially when one couldn't use a spell to stun them.

Armed with the same rusty key, Rafael strolled peacefully toward the house and unlocked the door. The house was exactly like it had been in his younger years, dark but cool on the inside, with many herbs and plants hanging from the ceiling. He still remembered the first time he'd entered, or trespassed, if truth be told. It was something of a miracle the same woman who had been groundskeep then was still on the job, though old age had certainly slowed her.

Rafael made his way to the kitchen, a place he had become intimately familiar with during his years at Penwick, and put on a kettle of hot water. It was a shame Mother Mudge wasn't around to exchange stories with, though she was set to return to Penwick soon...

@Archer Murray is now tasked with degnoming Ms Mudge's (the groundskeep) garden. You've got two options:

• You can simply claim that Archer fails or succeeds at capturing four garden gnomes, if that's your preference OR
• If you feel like making use of Archer's aptitudes, you can roll the dice! If you want to roll the dice, go here: app.php/rollthedice/rollwithaptitude (make sure you are logged in as Archer when doing this). Tick these four boxes: physique, intelligence, agility, and spirit. I chose those four since they are what's most needed to capture a gnome (the strength to hold one, the speed to capture one, the intelligence to see where they are, and the quickness/agility to capture them).
  
  Keep the dice roller at its default 1d20, then click the button 'Roll the dice'. You will get a page showing you the results, as well as a link to the results. For every one of the four rolls that is above 13, you will have captured one gnome. If you're lucky, you will have captured all four. You can use the outcomes to flavour your response. For example: if it turns out that you rolled a 10 on the intelligence roll, you could interpret that to mean that one of them managed to hide from Archer. Or if you rolled too low on the agility roll, you could take that to mean one of the gnomes outpaced Archer.
  
  You aren't required to do any of this, but it can be a fun way to use Archer's aptitudes and introduce an element of randomness/luck into the story.

[Archer Murray]

Losing his composure was certainly not part of Archer's plan. Going into the detention, he intended to keep his mouth shut and just take the punishment. However, the mention of Briar always seems to destabilise him. Corvesso questions him, trying to press further.

"I'm pretty good with names," Archer only responds. "I just remember things—remember people. There's really nothing more to it than that impressive I'm afraid."
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CHARISMA
A few rather tense moments pass. But then... Corvesso seems to pull back. He understands that he will not get anything out of you like this. This means something great: you've won!

SPIRIT
It's more a stalemate, really. However, considering the circumstances, even that is quite impressive.
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Figuring that pressing is pointless, Corvesso opts to move forward with the punishment. Archer has indeed brought the gloves as instructed, though he does not know what they will be used for. He wonders just how far the punishments of a magical school can go. As the two wander through the school, passing through countless corridors, a myriad of students and faculty alike notice them. The students stare, many of them likely wondering just what the boy has done to end up receiving a punishment this early into the year. The staring, however, doesn't bother Archer. It builds up intrigue, or so he thinks. Corvesso explains that just beyond the castle lies a garden maintained by an elderly groundskeeper.

The man continues by stating that it has become infested with gnomes. Down a narrow path, a small country house can be seen. Corvesso, after rummaging through a shabby-looking shed, provides Archer with cages. He explains the process: Archer needs to 'degnome' the garden. To achieve this, he needs to catch and cage four gnomes. Based on the way Corvesso frames the task, Archer can tell it is not meant to be a simple endeavour. However...
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PHYSIQUE
Look at that smug face. He's thinking, "this kid can barely cast a spell; he won't be able to catch even a single gnome!" He's mocking you. Are you going to just take that?

SPIRIT
Hold on, doesn't it seem a little wrong to take an intelligent and shake it about like a rag doll? Surely there must be another option..

CHARISMA
What if you tried persuading them somehow?

INTELLIGENCE
Persuading them how, exactly? You have nothing to bargain with for one, and whose to say they can even understand human languages? It seems like caging or tossing them are our only options.
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Archer sighs. "Fine." He watches the man leave. "Don't get too comfy, professor..."

And so, the punishment begins.
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SPIRIT | 23 | SUCCESS
You need to focus. Just get this done, move on with your day, and then leave it behind you. Time to get to work. You've got this.

INTELLIGENCE | 22 | SUCCESS
Stop. Dirt mounds, pumpkin patches—we can do something with this. Let me explain: these gnomes are clearly lingering here for a reason. It must have something to do with the food being grown here. Instead of just chasing them about like a fool, we should set traps. We start by leaving pieces of vegetables by any mounds we see...

AGILITY | 17 | SUCCESS
... When a gnome goes to grab the bait, you spring into action and catch them! Then...

PHYSIQUE | 19 | SUCCESS
... You shake them! It's perfect! Run it!
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Archer does just that. He plucks a carrot from nearby, disturbing the surroundings to make it seem as though the gnomes were responsible. He breaks the carrot into small pieces and leaves them by countless dirt mounds. And then... he waits. After a few moments—

Movement!

He leaps forward like a cat pouncing on its prey and snatches up a small gnome by its neck. He shakes it about before placing it in the cage gently. Catching one only emboldens him. Twelve minutes go by... And then comes a knock at the cottage's door.

"All done!" Calls out a bright, smiling Archer. Though covered in dirt, he is without injuries.

[Rafael Corvesso]

Rafael sighed as the heavy oak door clicked shut behind him. Inside, bundles of lavender and knotgrass hung upside down from the low wooden beams. On the windowsill, a small iron pestle moved by itself inside a stone mortar, grinding a slow, rhythmic circle. Rafael smiled. Ms Mudge might be halfway across the world, she would not have her household be idle.

Peace settled over Rafael. He let out a slow breath and crossed the worn floorboards to the small kitchen area. A flick of his wand kindled a fire in the cast-iron stove. From the basin sink he pumped water into a heavy copper kettle and set it over the heat.

A few minutes passed while Rafael watched through the window, his thoughts drifting like the steam from the kettle. By the time it whistled, he'd long lost track of his boy and his thoughts.

From a cupboard Rafael took a mug and spooned a measure of black tea leaves into it, then poured the hot water. Something about making tea always put him at ease, the slow, simple movements, far away from the noise and bustle of the castle. With a content sigh he carried his steaming mug to the small sitting room and sank into the overstuffed armchair beside the stone hearth. The faded floral cushions sagged around him, swallowing him up not quite as much as when he'd been Murray's age.

A familiar warmth filled his mind. He remembered the first time he had sat in this exact chair. He had been twelve years old, caught lingering outside past curfew. He didn't even remember why he'd gone out, only that Ms Mudge had dragged him in here, handed him a damp rag, and told him to clean her cauldrons. Once he'd done so, she'd taken him through a hidden path in the forest, that lead into a tunnel, which led back into the castle. An old servants route, she'd said. One of several that had been overgrown and forgotten. Over the years, Rafael had grown fond of the curmudgeony woman. The gruff, salt-of-the-earth groundskeeper had listened to his youthful grievances without judgment, sometimes offering a small word of advice in return. And she hadn't minded telling him when she thought he had been an insufferable fool - which had been often. Yet he had kept coming back, despite the injuries to his ego when she cut right through his charades. In many ways, she had been more of a mother to him than his own.

Outside the countryside home, the afternoon sun had started to sink below the horizon and cast long shadows over the pumpkin patch.

Rafael felt a twinge of pity for the boy. Young Murray was certainly learning that garden gnomes were vicious, fast, and keen on biting. If he'd been given the job, he would have taken at least an hour to catch four of them without magic. And Murray? The eleven-year-old would be running in circles until dusk. Rafael set his empty cup on the small side table and crossed his arms over his chest. He had hours before the boy would return, perhaps a bit more keen on talking once some of that excess energy had been burned off.

Rafael sighed, leaned his head back in the chair and closed his eyes. Just a minute... Just a little shut eye...

He was yanked from the precipice of peaceful slumber by a sharp knocking that rattled the front door in its hinges. "All done!" a bright voice called from outside.

Rafael jerked awake, his heart knocking against his ribs. He'd registered the knocking and the bright sound of the boy's voice, but not what had been said. The boy had hurt himself, that had to be it. A gnome had sunk its teeth into a skinny ankle and was refusing to let go, or maybe they'd pelted him with dirtballs and small rocks. He pushed himself out of the chair, crossed the room in three long strides and pushed the door open, expecting a mess of a boy.

Archer stood on the doorstep, covered in loose dirt but entirely whole. No bite marks either, which was a surprise. But even more of a surprise were the the two rattling metal cages at his feet. Inside them, four gnomes hissed and pressed their wrinkled potato-skin faces against the wire mesh.

Disbelief rooted Rafael to the spot. He knew scarcely any time had passed. Fifteen minutes, at most. A boy who, by all accounts, was so embarrassed about his spellwork that he saw fit to practice under cover of night had outmaneuvered four gnomes in the time it took to make a cup of tea. One of the gnomes chattered angrily and shook the iron bars of its cage.

The sound snapped Rafael out of his stupor. From a peg on the wall he pulled down a heavy burlap sack, and tossed it over the cages, silencing the angry creatures. "Well," Rafael said. He stepped aside and pushed the door open a little wider. "Why don't you come inside, Mr. Murray. Wash your hands at the basin and wipe your feet. I made some tea."

Rafael smoothed the front of his silk robes, settling his expression into mild academic interest. Tea? You're inviting a student for tea? Murray would likely be too wrapped up in his own little world to consider that his Professor was new to the job and still figuring out how exactly he was supposed to deal with surprising children.

"You can sit on the couch, the chair is mine," he called from the kitchen while he searched for another mug. Soon enough he returned with a steaming cup and handed it to the boy, whether he wanted it or not. "You are uncommonly quick," Rafael said, keeping his tone even as he settled back into the chair. "And clearly capable of applying yourself to a task. As head of House Dranage I probably shouldn't..." he fell silent for a moment, considering his next words carefully. "House Modron hasn't won the Quidditch cup in a while. Perhaps they'd have a better chance with you on their team."

Genuine curiosity took hold of Rafael as he leaned back into the comfortable depths of the chair. "But enough of that. I'd still like to hear about the matter of that night," Rafael said. "And who knows, if I like what I hear, I might just be inclined to let you off the hook this once, Murray."

[Archer Murray]

Archer's sense of self-satisfaction is overwhelming. Behind the veneer of feigned nonchalance, Archer's mind swells with feelings of excellence. To him, he has thoroughly decimated Corvesso's expectations. His honed senses allow him to hear movement beyond the cottage's door after he knocks. Moments after, the professor opens the door... and is stunned.
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PHYSIQUE
Time to gloat in his face!

SPIRIT
Please don't do that. There's no need to be rude... Besides, this achievement speaks for itself; you'll seem more impressive if you don't even mention your swiftness.
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Archer graciously accepts the man's offer for tea, despite him not liking the taste whatsoever. To him, it feels like a monument to his success—an invite to sit down and relax for a little while after a job well done. He does as Corvesso asks, pride still filling him. He leans back on the slightly lumpy couch, his self-assurance evident. The boy's ego is only stoked more at Corvesso's words, mentioning how House Modron could benefit from his capabilities in Quidditch.

"I'll have to think about it," Archer responds.
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PHYSIQUE
We could definitely do that!

INTELLIGENCE
We don't even know what Quidditch is.

PHYSIQUE
Maybe you don't. But to me, it sounds like a sport! We're pretty good at those!
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Archer's bravado, however, is soon diminished slightly by Corvesso's renewed interest in the events of last night. However, Archer's stance is still the same; he will not reveal anything. Not easily, at least.

"What? Do you want a detailed review of why my spells failed?" He questions the man. "That's about all I can give you. Why would I even lie about this? I'm the only one getting punished here. Wouldn't it make more sense to try and get someone else in trouble?" He points out, attempting to use pedantry to get by.

[Rafael Corvesso]

Rafael had to clench his jaw to keep himself from laughing. He could count on one hand the number of eleven year olds who had the gall and guts to be so direct. Any other student would have jumped for joy at having a Professor suggest they might be on the Quidditch team - very few first years ever got that chance, but not this one. This one would like to think about it. You are full of surprises, aren't you?

The silver lining was that perhaps the boy was not as reckless as he seemed. Indeed, Archer's ability to catch the four garden gnomes with a carefully planned tactic was proof of an intelligent mind at work somewhere beneath the grime and dirt and reckless grins.

"It's Professor Corvesso or sir to you, Murray," said Rafael with all the authority he could muster. "Mind your manners."

No need to reprimand him further. Rafael rather enjoyed the boy's directness, it was certainly a nice change from the usual British politeness. "You are right," said Rafael between sips of his tea, eager to move on from having to play the role of stern Professor. "It would make perfect sense to get someone else in trouble. That's what I would have done if I were your age."

He let that admission hang in the air for a short while. You're smart enough to take the hint Murray. Come on now, you know exactly what I'm saying, don't you? Why protect Ms. Hathaway? What do you gain by taking the blame? You could have put the blame on her, she would have been an easy scapegoat, but you didn't. Do you really think that gullible? You're not telling the truth, Murray, and I think you know that I know, and yet you insist...

"Maybe you are telling the truth. But you know what I think, Murray? I think you're far too smart to break curfew, endanger yourself, and risk costing your house a week's worth of house points merely because you are just that fond of stargazing."

Rafael put his empty teacup down with a clink. With it, any illusion that Murray might have harbored about getting off easy was broken. "Break's over. We best get back to it," Rafael announced. "You get the cages, I'll clean up our cups, then we will walk back to the castle for your second chore."

In all likelihood, Archer Murray probably considered having to drag the heavy gnome-cages up the road, up the mountain, and up several flights of long stairs a chore in of itself. Rafael said nothing on the way back, but he would listen if the boy had anything left to say. Maybe the truth, for a change.

The castle had taken on a dark and gloomy atmosphere by the time they had made it to the Third Floor where the Applied Magic classroom was. No sooner than Archer had set the heavy cages down, Rafael turned around and with a flick of his wand. A tall cabinet in the corner flung open. Inside was a solitary broom, a bucket, and a rag.

"It's dusty in here. You will sweep the floor and clean the desks," said Rafael. He made a point of filling the bucket with hot water using his wand, as if to make the point that all these tasks could easily be done by magic all the clearer. "I believe it was Mr. Damon Cowles who left his amusing artwork in Imperishable Ink on that desk (@Kasimir Damon-Cowles the word believe is doing some heavy lifting here. Your call, Kas.) ," he pointed to a rather beaten up looking one on the corner, "but I am sure that with enough perseverance, you may be able to make a dent. You'll report back to my office when you are done. Oh and Mr Murray... if you leave, I'll know."

The boy was left with the broom, the bucket, the rag, and a quickly scribbled note signed by Corvesso should Murray have need to prove to any prefect or Professor why he was out by this hour. It wasn't curfew yet, but dinner had surely started by now, and the task ahead was certain to take a while.

What does Archer do?

1. Choose your own path. No rolls needed.
2. (Easy challenge). Roll a 1d20 + your physique. If the combined roll equals or exceeds 14, you will get the task done a bit quicker (2 hours) than expected (3 hours). If the outcome is below 14, but above 10 you will take the expected amount of time. If the outcome is below 10, Archer will not manage to complete the task within 3 hours and will have to admit defeat.
3. (Medium challenge): Roll a 1d20 + Your sorcery to attempt to use magic to assist in the task. If the outcome exceeds 16, you will have successfully managed to use magic to help you do your chore. If the outcome is greater than or equal to 12 and below or equal to 16 your spell will fail, but you won't be caught attempting to cheat. Should your outcome be less than 12, your magic will fail and it will be noticed and Archer will be in deeper trouble and under more scrutiny going forward.
4. (Hard challenge): Roll a 1d20 + Your intelligence. If the outcome exceeds or equals 21 you will discover a secret in the Applied Magic classroom. An outcome that is greater than 15 but lower than 21 simply means you will discover nothing, but will not be caught snooping either. Any outcome lower than 15 means Archer will be caught snooping around and will result in Archer getting in deeper trouble and being under greater scrutiny going forward.

Pick one of the above and let me know which one you picked (unless it's #1, you don't need me for that).

[Archer Murray]

Corvesso acknowledges Archer's comment regarding his plot. He admits that—at the boy's age—he would certainly have let Briar take the fall. Archer does not doubt that. Most people would, after all. The boy still doesn't know why he didn't let that happen. After all, he doesn't owe Briar anything... Not since that failed lesson, anyway. Corvesso continues by stating that he simply doesn't believe that Archer is foolish enough to break curfew, risking his house highly coveted points in the process.

"Maybe I'm just a really selfish person," Archer replies, sarcasm laced in his tone.

Frankly, the boy thinks that house points are a rather stupid system anyway. Why would multiple people be punished or rewarded for the actions of one person? It just doesn't make sense to him. With the garden thoroughly cleansed of gnomes, the break is officially over. Archer tenses, preparing for the next trial.
────────────────────────────
SPIRIT
There is always going to be another chore. Teachers do not like losing battles of will against students...

SORCERY
Especially Rafael Corvesso. He is the head of House Dranaga; he embodies the values of pride and valour. This must be an absolute embarrassment to him.

PHYSIQUE
It's not even about the detention anymore; this is about sending a message. You can't give up. Not yet, at least. Grit your teeth, and let's get this next chore done.
────────────────────────────
Archer obeys the man, picking up the cages. The gnomes within attempt to bite his fingers, but the material of the gloves renders their efforts fruitless. Archer too said nothing, only humming a tune to distract himself from the strenuous exercise.

Soon enough, the two of them arrive at the location of the next chore: the Third Floor, or rather, the Applied Magic classroom. Archer sets the cages down, frankly quite exhausted. However, Corvesso is still energised, performing a magical flourish that opens a nearby closet. Within the dark compartment: a broom, a bucket, and a rag. Archer watches as Corvesso—quite effortlessly, too—fills the bucket with water using a single spell.
────────────────────────────
SORCERY
He's mocking you.

PHYSIQUE
Oh, we'll show him!
────────────────────────────
Corvesso leaves to return to his comfortable office, leaving Archer to his chore.

"Christ almighty..." He whispers, looking at the room before him.
────────────────────────────
SPIRIT | 9 | FAILURE
This is going to take all night...

PHYSIQUE | 24 | SUCCESS
It will if you keep whining. Stop being a puss! Let's get stuck in!
────────────────────────────
Archer does just that. The boy is an absolute hurricane of sanitation, cleaning and sweeping every square inch of the room with remarkable efficiency. Archer sings the entire time, the classroom filling with his voice. He sings music from far before his time—countless decades, in fact. He's always enjoyed older music. It reminds him of his grandfather, the man who had introduced him to the Wizarding World. Two hours go by. Archer finally finishes the chore, utterly exhausted but proud of his work. He puts away the equipment and leaves the room, shutting the door behind him in preparation for a dramatic reveal. The boy then goes to Corvesso's office, knocking on the door this time.

"All finished, professor!" He calls out.

Edit by mod:

Roll is here: app.php/rollthedice/history/105