As Madeleine slips off into the shadows, as Madeleine is prone to do, Hood trudges up stairs and more stairs - the daily grind of an initiate.

[a picture of Hood walking up stone steps]

Hood’s quarters are located on the eighth level of the main tower, with an open window view of the sea. It would have made for a cold and draughty seven years, but hardship is the driver of intent and each obstacle that Hood has had to overcome has added to his steely resolve. His room is no longer a draughty cell - though it will become one again soon - but a warm and cosy den; Hood having mastered the magic needed to transform it so.

Passing the Great Hall, Hood can hear and see his wizarding companions, none of whom he calls a friend. Many of whom he calls idiots. The party is still in full swing. One or two of his contemporaries having spilled out into the dusty stone corridors and lying drunk, slumped against walls, drooping party hats covering their faces, having imbibed too much Wizard’s Nog.

[a picture of slumped wizards with Hood walking past]

Hood steps over their sprawled forms and continues silently on. Hood will always continue silently on. More stairs silently climbed, and yet more, until he reaches the eighth level and the door to his quarters is in sight.

But a large wheezing form stands in wait. Hood’s shoulders drop slightly. It’s Nutjob Tarquin aka Psycho Tarquin, aka “The Grump-a-dump”, actually known as Tarquinius Grumpini III - head of the Wizarding order at Arkanthor.

[a picture of Tarquinius Grumpini III standing in a door lined corridor]

“Hood! I thought I’d catch you here.” Grumpini calls from down the corridor before coughing - his large jowls wobbling - as he shambles forward to greet Hood, who has slowed to a cautious crawl.

Although Hood acknowledges Tarquinius as a talented Wizard, it is he who was responsible for Madeleine’s gruesome injuries and for Madeleine having to leave the order. Or at least that’s what Hood tells himself when the pain of responsibility is too much for him to bear. Madeleine is Hood’s only friend. Hood has mixed feelings about Grumpini and tries to avoid him at all costs...as do all students. Grumpini is generally a dour and cross faced fellow and on account of his large and rather fat features it is rumoured - rather cruelly it may be said - that he has achieved this size by eating some of the students, at least this is what is told to the first years upon their arrival, along with a lot of other nonsense to scare them into behaving. Having said that, it would explain Grumpini’s infamously bad breath.

“Didn’t think the party would be your cup of tea,” continues Grumpini, thick white spittle rimming a corner of his mouth - he wipes it unconsciously away with the back of his hand. “But leaving us already, with scroll in hand! I trust you will return that to the archives before you depart?”

Hood looks at the rolled parchment, then back to Grumpini, catching a whiff of Grumpini’s breath in the process. He manages to resist the urge to shudder and forces a nod, making sure his fingers are crossed as he does so.

“Well, we will miss you dear boy. We haven’t had a talent quite like yours for many a year. Just thought I’d wish you well on whatever endeavours you have decided upon and give you a gift for all of your hard work over the years.” He places a small object on a metal chain into Hood’s free hand, then pats Hood on the shoulder almost affectionately. “Well, I’m sure we’ll keep in touch.” Grumpini smiles an unusual smile, blackened teeth and red gums - unusual, because he is not known to ever do so - then gives Hood a brief nod. “Till we meet again,” and slowly shuffles past Hood, beginning his descent to wherever he is going next.

Hood stands non-plussed, chewing over the encounter in his mind. Perhaps Grumpini is not the grump-a-dump he is made out to be. Hood looks down at the gift he has been passed and is momentarily taken aback. A Crowloom!

Hood turns the Crowloom over in his hands, carefully examining the strange carved figurine for a few moments, before slipping the chain up under his hood and over his head, letting the charm drop beneath his smock to hang against his chest. He will investigate this later.

[a picture of Hood’s out-stretched palm with a carved crow like figurine centrally placed.]

[Inter-chapter double page spread of what one can do with a Crowloom]