Hogwarts Mafia Round 5 Lynch

Hogwarts :: Great Hall :: Headmistress McGonagall, Poppy, Thaddeus, Lynch mob

Headmistress McGonagall was having a very strange week. Of course, she only realized the oddity in an abstract sort of way; there was nothing she could put her finger on and say ‘ah ha, this is the abnormality’.

McGonagall was known for being a calm and level headed witch in times of crisis, but this detachment was something altogether new. She just couldn’t seem to get all that worked up over fifteen...ish…students being dead. There was likely something she should be doing now, she reflected, but she just wasn’t all that inclined to care. In fact, she suspected that this was all a massive joke of some kind. She contemplated that idea almost experimentally.

‘Damn kids!’

Nope. Nothing.

Yes, it was an odd week indeed.

~*~*~*~

Unbeknownst to McGonagall, Thaddeus was having similar feelings, or lack thereof, though his were not in any way enchantment induced. He had gone to what he liked to call his ‘happy place.’ This was a place where nothing could bother him in the least, where the music filled his mind and he could be oblivious to all else. He had even begun humming a little tune while he ate his dinner in the great hall.

This proved to be a massive error in judgment, as he realized when he began choking on his food. He made the universal gesture of ‘I can’t breath help me’ but it didn’t seem to register with anyone, even when he slumped onto the table and the world began to go fuzzy around the edges.

The last thing he saw was McGonagall’s mildly perplexed expression.

~*~*~*~

There was quite a bit of shifty eyed behavior that evening at dinner, and Poppy had a sinking suspicion it had something to do with her. She couldn’t quite seem to get any of her friends to meet her eyes and even McGonagall was looking a little…glazed. Deciding there was nothing she could do about it, she dug into her mashed potatoes and tried to ignore the throat slitting gestures some of her school mates were giving her.

Oh, haha. Now Thaddeus was in on the joke too, putting his hands around his neck and making choking faces. Very funny. Poppy didn’t see why they had to be so mean about it. Sulkily, she looked down at her shoes under the table and pouted, her bottom lip trembling. There must have been something in her eye. Well, both eyes, she supposed. Everything was all blurry.

She never noticed when several students poured a variety of substances into her drinking cup.

Sniffing mightily, she looked back up after a moment, stiffening her upper lip and determined to take this like a proper witch. She took an enthusiastic sip of her pumpkin juice, just to prove her point.

~*~*~*~

It seemed to McGonagall that Thaddeus was dead. This was quite odd to her.

Who named their kid Thaddeus in this day and age anyway? Obviously someone who expected their son to suffer endless torment.

Shaking her head in at attempt to clear the light buzzing in her ears, she looked to the other side of the table, where it appeared Poppy was going into violent convulsions and flailing about on the floor. McGonagall mused over what to do, and realized that Madame Poppy Pomfrey usually took care of such matters as dying students.

Well, that was just ridiculously confusing, wasn’t it? Two Poppys in one school was just a bit much. Perhaps that was why Thaddeus’s parents had chosen that unfortunate name? Maybe they reasoned that –two- people couldn’t possibly select something so asinine to name their child.

She peered over at the younger Poppy, pondering the situation as blood poured out the unfortunate girl’s ears. Two people named Poppy…that was just plain mind blowing, as her students would say.

Finally the girl stopped thrashing about, which made it a good deal easier to think.

What was she thinking about again?