Omk I love this. Can't wait for the next part!!! (ahahah im still alive ;))

Day Three, Part One:

Autumn blinked her eyes open sleepily. Why had she woken up? Then she realized: she was sleeping by the fireplace, and she was burning hot. Her tail even felt like it was singed. <sumr?> she asked quietly.

From atop her teal-blue comforter, Summer rubbed her eyes and groaned. “Yeah?”

<goin><togo><slep><inth><hall>

“Okay,” Summer agreed, closing her eyes and flopping back onto her mattress.

Autumn clamped her teeth around one of the ornamental tassels of her luxurious gold silk pet bed. Tugging on the threads, she dragged the bed through the bedroom door and into the blissfully cool hallway. Sighing, she snuggled into the soft folds of fabric. She felt gentle hands pick her up, and smiled, assuming it was Summer. But it wasn’t. These arms were unfamiliar.

“You know what else they call you, Autumn?” a voice whispered in her ear. “Fall. That’s what you’re going to do.”

Autumn’s eyes widened as the murderer began to walk toward the window and her brain registered the meaning of the words. <nono!> she yelped. Frantically, Autumn scrabbled her claws against the person’s arm, but they ignored her, reaching the window and placing her on the sill.

“Goodbye,” the murderer whispered, and pushed her out the window.

<sumr!> Autumn shouted, hoping her friend would hear her. She closed her eyes, bracing herself for the impact. A gasp escaped her as knives pierced her fur. Then it all fell away.

--

Summer rolled over and squinted at the onslaught of sunlight in her eyes. Glancing at her clock, she saw that it was 6:53 AM. She sat up in bed.

“That was the strangest dream,” she muttered. In the dream, Autumn had been stabbed by the murderer, calling her name one last time before dying. She looked over to Autumn’s pet bed for reassurance, only to find the spot completely empty. Oh, of course, she thought. Autumn was hot, so she went to sleep in the hall. Summer slid her feet over the side of her bed. They found the floor, and she walked out the doorway of her bedroom into the hall. There was the golden pet bed, but no Autumn. She’s probably just wandering the building, Summer reassured herself. Nevertheless, the well of fear rising within her refused to be tamped down. She walked to the end of the hallway and poked her head out the window. “Autumn!” she called into the still morning air. No response. Then she looked down and gasped.

The fox’s body was impaled on the knives of a knife cart a few stories below.

What happened? was Summer’s first thought. Did she fall? Or was she pushed? There had been several murders lately, though, so considering the pattern, the answer was probably pushed. She blinked away tears. What could be done now? Then Summer had an idea. Racing back into her bedroom, she grabbed a leaf of parchment from the desk in the corner and began writing with a quill pen.

Half an hour later, Summer climbed down the stairs to the pub. Tom the barkeep was there, eyes red-rimmed and hands holding a cup of coffee.

“Hey, Tom,” she called. “Is it okay if I put this sign on the door?” Tom looked up from his caffeinated beverage.

“Hm? Oh, sure,” he said, taking another sip.

When the CBers came down after an hour, Arwen shouted, “What’s that sign on the door?” As they got closer, Serene read it aloud.

Dearest Chatterboxers and companions,

My CAPTCHA, Autumn, was tragically murdered last night. This is not the first time such an event has happened. Catsclaw, Spiffycat, and Emerald Frost have all been similarly killed. I suggest we take a group to Dumbledore and ask him to do something about this. If we don’t, the murderer may find us next. If anyone would like to join the group that informs Dumbledore, please meet me in the Leaky Cauldron at 9:30 am.

Yours sincerely,

Summer.

“Well, what time is it now?” Harry asked, and everyone started looking around for a clock. Mor finally found one, and was about to shout out to the others, when she realized that this was a strange clock. Instead of two hands, it had twenty-six, exactly the number of CBers and companions. Each hand was labeled with an intricately engraved name, and there were different sections, like ‘home,’ ‘traveling’ and ‘work/school.’ With a feeling of dread, Mor noticed one hand was in the section labeled ‘mortal peril.’

Her own.

“Found one!” Sammy called suddenly, startling Mor out of her reverie. They rushed behind the bar, and Sammy pointed out an old and grimy clock. Its time read 9:29.

“And look, there she is!” Sammy continued. She pointed to Summer, who was walking down the stairs. She grinned and waved at them.

“Hi everyone,” she called. The crowd rushed to join her beside the stairwell. “So, CBers and companions are being murdered. We need to tell Dumbledore.”

“We sure do,” agreed Gracia.

“My idea,” Summer continued, “is to have a group of us- maybe five or six, I’m not sure- go to Dumbledore to tell him. Who wants to go with me?”

Immediately, several hands flung themselves into the air. The hands belonged to Soren, Kat, Ella, Harry, and Asthene.

Summer giggled. “Okay! You can all come with me!” The CBers and Asthene exchanged grins of delight.

--

Dead: Catsclaw, Spiffycat, Emerald Frost, Autumn

Suspects: Kitten, Ella Starburst, Andrea, Zeke (post more if you have ideas!)

NOOO!

Autumn has died!

<kkmd>

It'll be okay...

Day Three, Part Two:

Entering Flourish and Blotts was like entering a magical wonderland--which, in a way, it sort of was. The shelves were piled high with teetering stacks of books in a staggering variety of sizes, colors, and lengths. There were rickety tables cluttered with ink and fine quills. There were jars of thing Mor didn’t even have names for hanging from the ceiling, coated in a thick layer of dust.

“Cool, check this out!” NK shouted from somewhere behind Mor. Presently, she heard a crash, followed by an “awww” from NK and a “shhh!” from Levana. Privately rolling her eyes at their antics, Mor turned her attention to the divination book standing on display nearby. She was mildly interested, enough so that she gently picked it up and flipped to the first page. As she read, Mor became more and more intrigued. She read about the methods of seeing the future, about the great sages of their years, about prophecies long fulfilled and prophecies yet to come. She was about halfway through the book when the dusty silence was punctuated by a thud followed by low growling.

“Quiet, you stupid beast,” someone whispered, followed by the sound of running feet. Mor slowly swiveled around and spotted a book on the ground. She bent to pick it up, thinking, That was very careless of that person to drop that book, when she realized that this book had eyes and teeth! It lunged toward her, sinking its canines into her arm, and Mor gave a startled shriek.

Other CBers, hearing the shriek, raced toward her.

“Are you okay, Mor?” Darkking asked in a mildly panicked voice.

<fine> Mor answered just as casually.

“Do you need a band-aid?” he asked, concerned.

Mor accepted the band-aid Darkking handed her, cheeks burning. Didn’t he know she could take care of herself? She placed it on the wound, but that didn’t make it hurt any less.

Relieved that her fellow CAPTCHA was okay, Noon began walking away, only to whip around in surprise when she heard a thud.

Mor had suddenly perished.

Horrified, Noon stared at the bite marks around the band-aid. (With no gory detail here. The invisible narrators don’t like gory detail.) What could have happened? CBers and companions around her were exchanging shocked murmurs.

“Excuse me, please,” Dumbledore said politely, pushing through the crowd. He paused when he saw Mor. “Oh, my.” He gently lifted her arm and set it back down. “It appears she has been bitten by the Monster Book of Monsters. Its bite is poisonous.”

“Why does this shop even have that book anyway?” Andrea put in.

“We could sue them,” Zeke added coldly.

“Sue them! Sue them! Sue them!” Gracia chanted. Others picked up the chant, including NatureWriter, Kitten, and Yxek. Dumbledore held up a hand for calm.

“There will be no suing,” he gently chided Gracia. She looked crestfallen.

“It’s okay,” Serene whispered, and Gracia perked up.

“We will figure out who did this, however,” Dumbledore continued. “If any of you have any information, I urge you to come to me. Your confidentiality will be protected.”

--

Tired after the long and trying day, Dumbledore sat in his office, pondering the recent events. Several CBers had come to him in order to inform him of the seemingly random killings. First there had been Catsclaw. Then Spiffycat and Emerald Frost. Finally, earlier today, there were Autumn and Mor. Who was killing the victims? And what could their motive possibly be? Dumbledore rubbed his eyes. He was tired. And, he confessed to himself, a little frightened. All of a sudden, he heard a knock on the door.

“Come in,” he called quietly, and the door swung open. Voldemort strode in, sat down, and gave Dumbledore his customary glare.

“We need to talk,” he growled.

--

Dead: Catsclaw, Spiffycat, Emerald Frost, Autumn, Mor

Suspects: Kitten, Ella Starburst, Andrea, Zeke

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA! Such a cliffhanger!

Day Four:

Voldemort pursed his lips at the parchment in front of him, letting ink drip from the tip of his quill. With a sigh, he crossed out Zeke and Leafpool and added Andrea and Sammy.

“Wonderful, that makes an even five,” he muttered to himself sarcastically. “I had more hope for these CBers than just five.” He stared at the paper like he wanted it to burst into flames, but instead of raising his wand to cast Incendio, he took the quill again and carefully wrote NatureWriter, and a moment later, Yxek.

--

Dumbledore pursed his lips at the parchment in front of him, letting ink drip from the tip of his quill. With a sigh, he crossed out Autumn and Mor.

“How have the suspects not been narrowed down more than this already?” he muttered to himself exasperatedly. “Surely there’ve been more clues that I haven’t noticed!”

After staring for a few more moments, he yawned widely and rolled the parchment up again. He’d work on it later, he decided.

--

Yxek woke abruptly and let out a huge yawn. He flew over to NatureWriter, falling down purposely on his CBer’s stomach.

“Agh! Yxek, what?”

<haha> Yxek said with a smile.

NatureWriter groaned and rolled out of bed, muttered something about finding a bit to eat, and trudged down the hall. Yxek gleefully jumped onto the soft, squishy bed and fell asleep again. His rest didn’t last very long, however, because the fluffy purple alarm clock next to the bed went off promptly at 9:00. Not having any appendages useful for pressing the ‘off’ button on the clock, Yxek was forced to leave the room and head down to breakfast.

Downstairs, he found that he was not the only one to be compelled out of bed at such an “early” hour; no, the whole crowd of CBers and companions was standing around the dining hall, plates of sausages held tightly in their hands. (With the exception of the few vegetarian guests, who were eating pancakes instead. Dumbledore was very careful to be sure everyone was satisfied with their meals.) Yxek was just in time, it appeared, because Dumbledore was just now clearing his throat for attention.

“My esteemed guests!” he said loudly, then waited for the crowd to quiet down before continuing. “Today we will be doing two different activities. Some of you will be going with me to tour Hogwarts and others will be going with my partner to Knockturn Alley.” He paused, giving the CBers a chance to murmur among themselves. Well, some of them murmured. Breeze let out an extremely loud gasp.

“Yes, Dumbledore has given me permission to take a special few of you to one of my favorite spots in Knockturn Alley,” said Voldemort, pulling a roll of parchment out of his cloak. “Those will be the following: Kitten, Gracia, Andrea, Sammy, NatureWriter, Yxek, and Ella-”

“No! Absolutely not!” cut in the CBer in question. “I would never do anything with an evil wart like you! I’m going with Dumbledore instead.” She stared at him defiantly, as if waiting for him to question her decision, but he just shrugged and turned to Dumbledore. The two whispered for a moment, then strode off in opposite directions, calling their groups to join them.

Yxek flitted after Voldemort, intrigued to find out what they’d be doing that morning. The mismatched group drew several stray glances as they marched down the windy alley, but a glare from Voldemort turned them away instantly and had the helpful effect of clearing a path for them.

The crowd of shoppers around them became fewer and Darker the closer they came to Knockturn Alley. Upon entering the alley itself, they found themselves the only people around. Everyone else was either Disillusioned or in the shops. Or just not there at all, which seemed more likely, since the alley was decrepit and populated with sketchy-looking people.

Eventually, the group ended up in what appeared to be an empty, broken-down building. Upon entering, however, the CBers were amazed to see a luxurious room filled with cushy couches, bins of junk food, and bookshelves lined with titles such as “Dark Wizards of Our Age” and “101 Dark Curses.”

Voldemort clapped his hands sharply, causing startled eyes to turn to him. “Andrea, Sammy, Yxek, come here.” They did so with some amount of trepidation.

“You three don’t have wands, correct?”

“Er,” muttered Andrea confusedly, “We didn’t get a chance to get wands…?”

“Answer. The. Question,” he said with barely contained rage. “You don’t have wands. True or false?”

“True,” they said in unison.

“You want wands. True or false?”

“True,” they said again, but with a moment of hesitation.

He flicked his wand, and three wands of dogwood, pine, and fir shot into the respective hands of Andrea, Sammy, and Yxek. They looked down in surprise and turned them every which way, sighing in delight. They were snapped out of their admiration, however, by Voldemort calling the rest of the group to attention.

“I’m sure you’re all wondering what we’ll be doing. Before I tell you, I have to warn you that if I find that any one of you has told this information to Dumbledore, I will personally kill you. What happens here stays here.” He paused and looked around at the stunned faces. “Now, if anyone has any objection, I won’t mind if you leave right now,” he continued in a voice that showed that he would, in fact, mind quite a bit if anyone left. “No one? Very well. The first thing we will be learning is Avada Kedavra, the Killing Curse.”

There was a sudden intake of breath. The CBers looked around at each other, all having concerns, but none wanting to be the ones to share them. Come on, they seemed to think to each other, you say something. But when someone did, it wasn’t what they were expecting.

“Cool!” said Andrea. “I’ve always wanted to murder people.”

--

Harry trudged down the hall, tired after a long day of spellcasting, reading, and touring.

<pick?> asked Beatrice from beside him.

“No, I’m sorry.” He looked down sadly. “I’m too tired. We’re almost to our room, though! You can rest there.”

Harry’s feet had kept walking even while he looked down, and he suddenly realized that this might not have been a good idea. He slammed straight into someone, their book cutting into his stomach. Harry stumbled back a few paces and expressed his profuse apologies. The other person remained silent, however, and looked around nervously.

“What’cha reading?” Harry craned his neck to see. “Dark Curses? What are you doing with Dark curses?” A sudden suspicion struck him, and he began to back away. “You aren’t the- the murderer, are you?”

There was no response. Harry opened his mouth to call for help, but the murderer was faster. “Avada Kedavra!” they yelled. The last thing Harry saw was the murderer turning on his CAPTCHA…

--

Dead: Catsclaw, Spiffycat, Emerald Frost, Autumn, Mor, harry pooooooootter!, Beatrice

Suspects: Kitten, Ella Starburst, Andrea, Zeke