sixth year, lesson two {incarcerous}

Ashleen sat in her chair, looking blankly at her dummy. She knew what they were supposed to be doing, she merely didn't feel like doing it.

After a few bored attempts at the spell, her heart only half in it, she had managed to get half the task done, binding the feet of the faceless doll together. Her head tilted to the side, long blonde hair all falling to that side of her head, cascading over her shoulder onto the desk, as she let a sea of faces dance through her head, and project onto her toy in her mind. Each one flashing sending different emotions spiking through her - love, hate, anger, fear - but none of them could intice her to finish the task.

She just wasn't angry enough at any of them. She just wasn't...

Her gaze lingered to her own arm, propt on the desk she had pushed in front of her dummy and promptly sat behind. An idea began to grow in her mind. Hazy, but there.

"Incarcerous," she murmured, watching the thick strings shoot out of her wand and wrap around her arm. The materal was scratchy, irriatating her skin, but she hardly felt it. Instead a small little smirk grew on her face.

The small idea grew as she slid away from her desk a bit, frowning at her legs.

Another murmured incantaion had her left one was promptly bind to the chair leg, the wood and string both chaffing painfully into her skin, but it was an oddly satisfying pain. So satisfying that she repeated the process, so her other leg matched.

Having succesfully done to herself, what she should have done to the dummy, Ashleen proceeded to stay where she was seated, leaning forward slightly on the desk again, running her free hand along the rope that was on her arm.

Frodo entered the Standard Spellcraft classroom and looked around, before he saw the dummies seated in a chair. He wasn't really in the mood to attend lessons, his mind gone into lockdown due to all the constant worry thoughts he was having about Kait.

Quickly reading the instructions, he went over to one of the chairs where the dummy was seated and took out his wand, barely noticing his fellow Prefect who had bound herself to the chair. But at that moment, he just wanted to finish the assignment and leave soon.

Pointing his wand towards the dummy's feet, Frodo said the incantation, "Incarcerous," and watched as thick ropes shot out of his wand and bound the dummy's legs close together. Satisfied with the result, he pointed the wand at the dummy once more, he muttered the word again and ended up binding the inanimate object to the chair.

The Prefect placed his wand back in his pocket and was about to leave, when he looked to the side and saw Ashleen. He looked at her in surprise and walked over to her side. "What happened? I mean, I can see what happened...but, why....?" His question trailed off.

"Hmm?" the girl heard a voice through a fog of her own mind. Painstakingly she trailed her eyes away from their old focus - the rope on her arm - and up to the speaker. "Oh this?"

Ashleen's gaze flicked from Frodo, to her arms, her legs and back again. What had happened. That was a very good question. She could remember doing it, and although she didn't feel any physical regret at the moment, she still couldn't remember what had driven her to do this.

Her shoulders shrugged upwards, "Just... seemed like a good idea."

"A good idea?" The Hitrost echoed in surprise. "Honestly Ashleen, from the looks of it, no way does it fall under the category of good ideas," he remarked, feeling kind of confused yet worried about the girl's indifference.

Reaching for his wand once more, he questioned hesitantly, "Do you want me to untie you? I really don't feel comfortable leaving you in this state."

Whether she refused or not, he was kind of relieved that he at least noticed her, otherwise she definitely would have been here till the Professor had arrived, for who knows how long.

Her head tilted to the side, hair falling over the bound arm, hiding the strings she had wrapped around it. Her blank gaze focused on the boy, the indifference still floating around her like a fog. Ashleen had separated herself from the world, from the room, from her life.

In fact, the only thing that was probably holding her to reality was this conversation, and the fact that she could still feel the harsh texture of the ropes digging into her skin.

"I just wanted-" her voice, dreamy in nature, cut off, a frown crossing her face. What had she wanted.

A flash dread came through her, heavy and sinking holding her down, and paling her skin. The slight tone change, and a tiny dance in her eyes, were the only things that proved she had any reaction to his question at all. Until she opened her mouth again.

"If you untie me, I might get lost. I don't want to get lost."