#talks about he likes painting signs for the mystery shack because it's easier to do and doesn't hurt him

[thereareeyesinsidethetrees]

there's this one fic entirely about stan having dysgraphia but i don't remember what it's called or who made it and i really want to find it again

[idornaseminary]

Chapter One-Hundred Sixty-One: Enzo, Natasha, and Calix

“Hey!” Enzo hollered slamming the heel of his fists against the wrought iron door, trying to get any response from Melanie and Beatrice, but it was futile. Whatever charm was on this door, it was powerful.

He cursed under his breath, looking at Natasha behind him… then to the boggart behind her. It was still in the form of the Clown. It smiled, waving to them as it’s painted smile grew unnaturally wide. Enzo was about to draw his wand, but just as his hands reached towards his waistband, the Clown vanished into a cloud of smoke that slithered along the floor between Enzo and Natasha, slipping under the door, seemingly hunting Melanie and Beatrice.

Natasha watched Enzo pound on the door, realizing quickly that it was fruitless. They weren’t going to get through, and it was their best bet to focus on individually getting out of here. She turned back towards the boggart, prepared but unwilling to face it, but it seemed to think Melanie and Beatrice were the better prey, as it quickly disappeared after the pair.

“Sohn einer Hündin,” she muttered to herself angrily, realizing that now, they were likely all in even more danger. “Now what?” she asked Enzo, although her eyes were traveling the room for signs of another exit.

“I don’t -” he began, but was quickly cut off by a grumble.

“Not much time left…”

As soon as the voice - the same voice Enzo heard in the Mystery Shack the first time they were attacked by the boggart - sounded, the floor vanished within the blink of an eye.

All Enzo could do was gasp before his body was sent hurdling towards a dark pit.

Natasha barely had time to frown at the sound of the voice when the floor disappeared, dropping both her and Enzo into what looked like a black abyss. She scrambled to find something to grab to stop the fall, but it was just cold nothingness.

The fall only last ten or twenty seconds, but soon, Enzo could see the ground. He panicked, looking for something around him to grab ahold of, but all he could see was Natasha a few feet from him. He closed his eyes, bracing himself for impact… when he stopped falling.

His eyes snapped open, and when he opened them again, he was hovering a foot or two above the ground, swaying. His chest heaved in fear, his heartbeat sounding through every part of his body, but before he had time to ask Natasha what was going on, the charm lifted, and Enzo fell the rest of the three feet or so, slamming into… grass?

Natasha felt her heart stop when their motion did, thinking for a moment that the impact had been so severe that she didn’t even feel it. Was that how it worked? Even if that was wrong, it didn’t matter, because she quickly realized that they had been stopped by some sort of spell, and were now just above the ground. She looked to her companion, question in her gaze, but then she finished her fall, grunting in pain as she landed against grass.

“What the hell?” she mumbled, trying to catch her breath. Her heart was pounding and her body shook, both from the fall and residual fear from the boggart, but she dragged herself to her feet, needing to prepare for any possible enemies.

Enzo rubbed his shoulder, easing the slight pain, and stood up, taking in his surroundings. They were in the basement of Idorna, he knew that. However, this looked nothing like a basement. If he did not know any better, he would have thought they were in a forest. Around him, hundreds upon hundreds of trees sprouted up. The soil below him felt like it did in the Gladur, and above was a brilliant night sky.

That is when he noticed the heat.

He grunted, beginning to sweat already. He unzipped his winter jacket and shrugged it off, tossing it onto the ground.

“What is this?” he asked absentmindedly.

The warmth only took a few moments to pervade Natasha’s normally cool skin, prickles of sweat drops spreading over her forehead. Following Enzo’s lead, she unbuttoned her jacket and removed her gloves, dropping them to the ground. She would loathe to leave them there, but she didn’t intend to try to carry them right now. At the Aquilen’s question, she arched a delicate brow, looking around.

“No idea,” she muttered, although she had a feeling the question was more rhetorical than anything. “Any sense of direction? At all?” She looked around, trying to figure out if there was a clear way they were supposed to go, or even a way back up. She couldn’t see a ceiling, though, only stars, which made her wonder what sort of enchantment was on this place.

Enzo looked up at the sky, narrowing his eyes. “Divination,” he said, looking back to his partner. “You excel in Divination, non? Can you read stars?”

Natasha drew a deep breath of the hot air, ignoring her temptation to remove the sweater she wore as well. “Theoretically? Yes. But that is Beatrice’s specialty, not mine. I don’t stargaze frequently.” She shook her head, a few dark locks sticking to her forehead from her perspiration. “What would I even be looking for?”

Enzo raised his eyebrows, seeming to draw only short straws at his hope for an answer. “Can you not… lead us, or... “ he sighed, shaking his head. “Nevermind.” He drew his wand, casting a quick ‘Lumos’. “Let’s just see where this leads.”

Clearly Enzo didn’t really understand Divination, but then again, most witches and wizards didn’t. Natasha decided to hold back her biting comment about it, instead raising her own wand and casting another light. She followed the Frenchman, hoping this was the right direction. Or, more accurately, that it wasn’t the wrong one.

They had been walking in silence for what felt like a lifetime, with not even a glance being shared between the two. Enzo didn’t particularly like Natasha. He supposed he didn’t dislike her, per se, but after their first… encounter, he thought it best to keep his distance. However, that was not an option now.

With the only sound between them the sound of their footsteps in the grass, the tension only seemed to be growing, nearly palpable in the air. Natasha wasn’t sure she was truly inclined to try to grow closer to Enzo, but this silence was too much, even for her, who normally thrived on discomfort. She didn’t know what to say, though, particularly to someone who likely had plenty of reason to dislike her and feel wary of her.

“It feels too quiet,” she said finally, glancing at her companion. “This is a forest, yes? There should be life of some sort. Why is it so silent?”

Enzo shrugged. “No idea.”

She was right though. There was no sound - only their footsteps snapping twigs. Enzo wiped around another few beads of sweat from his forehead, trying to keep himself from groaning in annoyance. He never like the heat.

I’m going to go insane…

He looked over to Natasha then, trying to get his mind off of it. “Who was the man with the gun?” he asked. Not that he cared a whole lot, but if he focused on the heat anymore, he was going to collapse.

Natasha eventually gave up on trying to preserve modesty, shrugging off her sweater and dropping it behind herself as they walked. It helped some, but not enough. She was just considering casting Aguamenti for either a drink or to cool herself down when Enzo spoke again.

Of course. She had hoped that, somehow, the question wouldn’t come up and that everyone would be too focused on other things to ask, but without much else for them to discuss, she could understand why Enzo asked. That didn’t mean it was any easier to answer, or for her to come up with a lie.

“My brother,” she finally told him. She didn’t have a better alternative, and she was too tired to think of one. But she hoped that by giving him a short answer, the Aquilen would be encouraged to drop the subject.

Enzo noted her answer, tucking it away. Family wasn’t easy for either of them to discuss, it seemed. So he simply just nodded as they continued to walk ahead.

Another ten or fifteen minutes passed, and Enzo was drenched in sweat, his eyelids growing heavy, his steps becoming shorter, slower… He felt as if this charm was real, and this is where he would spend the rest of his time. He would fall to the ground and die, rot, and meld into the forest.

It was then that the forest came to a break just a few feet ahead, giving him somewhat of a second wind. He took the last few steps, and when he reached the final tree that separated them from the clearing, he leaned against it, watching the grand oasis unfold ahead of them.

It was brilliant. A grand lake, spanning as far as the eye could see. There was a small cottage on the green hill to their left, a picnic table beside it and sitting on it was…

“Mom…”

Sure enough, there she was: Collete Durand-Bellerose. She looked at her son, smiling sweetly and waving, as if the last time she had seen him was no more than a day or two ago. She beckoned him over, and without hesitation, he began to walk towards the cottage.

“Enzo,” Natasha hissed as the man started to unhesitatingly walk away from her, towards the cottage in the distance. She grabbed the material of his shirt, dragging him back. “We have no idea what this is, and based on what we’ve seen so far, I doubt it’s good.” She knew that he really wanted to go, she wouldn’t be able to stop him, but she was hoping to get some sense into him before he did anything too rash.

Enzo’s eyes felt heavy, and he tried to keep walking, even though Natasha’s grip on his was fierce. “Why?” he asked. “She’s… she’s right there. Just let me talk to her…”

At least he wasn’t resisting too much. Natasha was exhausted as well, and if the large Seeker tried to pull away from her, he would likely just drag her along with him. “No. Why would your mother be here, Enzo? There’s no logical reason for it, which means that it’s probably some sort of enchantment.” Everything they’d come across so far had been intended to stop them from making forward progress, and she had a feeling this was no different. “We have to keep going. That isn’t her. Whatever it is, it isn’t really her.”

“Why are you lying to me? I thought we were on the same side?” he asked, his focus falling away from his mother and onto Natasha.

The Cucurrion blinked a little at his sudden change in focus, how he was turning on her rather than continuing to pull towards his mother. “I am on your side, Enzo. Which is why I’m not letting you go over there.”

That was when the world shifted, like a movie skipping scenes. And when Natasha looked back to Enzo, he was not the same as he once was.

“You’ve always been like this,” he hissed, his accent falling away, his language slipping into Natasha’s native tongue. “Since you were a child, you’ve always sapped the happiness out of everything and everyone. Why?”  

Natasha’s eyes widened when his voice changed, her heart rate picking up to breakneck speeds. “W-What?” she stammered, staring at Enzo. This didn’t sound like him, and she was so taken aback that she didn’t know what to do or say. It sounded too familiar.

He stepped up to her, and suddenly there were in a home. Natasha’s home. However, he did not stop speaking, the German flowing fluently. “This is where you grew up? What made you so cold, Natasha Kraus? Was it your parents? Did they do something to you?”

What was happening? Natasha looked around the house, barely taking in any of the familiar sights. She knew it well, too well. This was an exact replica, but she was here with Enzo, who was speaking German, tormenting her. Panic bubbled in her throat, and for the second time today, tears sprung to her eyes, a hot stinging that she couldn’t force back.

“No,” she breathed, responding in German now, prompted by his use of the language. “No. My parents did nothing. I just...didn’t trust humanity. Didn’t see the good.” She didn’t know why she was telling him this, but her panic made her open, susceptible to revealing everything he wanted to know.

“Tell me what happened,” Enzo said, stepping closer, his hands on her shoulders. “Tell me everything…”

That was all it took. Natasha broke down, her knees and hands trembling as she cried, spilling everything to Enzo, telling him about her upbringing, how her parents refused to send her to Durmstrang, the accident, Winter Break, everything. Everything and anything anyone could possibly want to use against her. Every single one of her weaknesses. By the time she was done, she felt empty, broken. Ready to curl up on the ground and fade into nothingness.

“You lose.” The voice sounded once more, signaling the end of their session. 

As the voice broke through again, the picture of Natasha Kraus’ home fell away. And when Enzo opened his eyes, he was chained up. He looked around, frantically trying to piece together what happened. The memory was fading away from him, slipping through his fingers.

He looked to his left to see Natasha there, chained, as well. And to his right… Calix. He looked dead… or, at least, on the brink of it.

“What’s happening?” he called, looking around the dark room.

Natasha lifted her head, a ringing in her ears as the previous images disappeared. She felt numb, empty. It took several moments to process that she was chained up, even more to realize that both Enzo and Calix were there with her, the latter in poor shape. She could feel the cold of the metal around her wrists, but distantly, as if it was a memory more than anything. Enzo’s call echoed around in her ears, but when she opened her mouth to try to respond, nothing came out.

Clap.

Clap.

Clap.

“Welcome, boys and girls,” Crix grinned, a flickering bulb struggling to stay alive above his head. “It’s about time you showed up - you’re all so late, the funhouse is already folding. Do you like my little games, Enzo?”

Crix pushed himself from his seat, his twisted laughter echoing in the darkness, ricocheting around the room, as he stepped closer to his newest playthings.

Enzo exhaled a shaky breath, anger bubbling in his chest. That’s what the forest and Colette had been. Some sick game. He looked to Natasha, narrowing his eyebrows as the memory of her explanation came rushing back.

“What do you want?” Enzo spat at Theodore Crix, his wrists beginning to ache from the restraints.

Crix cocked his head to one side, eyeing Enzo with a sadistically toothy grin: “Not much. I’ve got everything I want, really. Look around. There’s only two more things I need. Then, well, you will all have lost.”

Crix glanced at the German witch who had tried to seduce him outside the Great Hall, puckering his lips and winking flirtatiously.

‘Only two left,’ he thought, ‘Then I can have my way with all of you.’