Petrification

Thursday. Cupid's least favourite day. It was filled with the lessons that he disliked the most. Divinations (why was that even a subject?), care of magical creatures and history of magic. There was nothing really uninteresting about the latter two subjects, in fact Cupid was rather fond of history of magic, or he would have been had it been taught by an actual Professor. Professor Binns, the only ghost Professor, gave boring lectures in a monotonous voice that lulled Cupid into a daydream about being the next Gilderoy Lockhart, although unlike the Lockhart Cupid wouldn't be a fraud. It was these people, historical heroes and great wizards Cupid enjoyed to learn about. As a child whilst his Mother went out to work he and Becca would gather around the fireplace whilst their Grandma taught them all she knew about history. Historical figures, historical battles, historical movements, myths and legends. It was partly these bold adventures and tales of the greats that inspired Cupid to seek fame. To seek an adventure so earth shattering that he would fall into a black hole of international wizarding fame.

Following his familiar footsteps from the Great Hall after dinner Cupid found himself pondering his future. Since the Christmas Party his popularity had steadily increased, plateauing towards the end of January before peaking on his birthday, Valentines day. The Slytherin never enjoyed his birthday and it was understandable being called 'Cupid'. What on earth had his Mother been thinking? It brought nothing but embarrassment and the urge to remain in bed all day. Of course he hadn't, he had gone into Hogsmede and met a friend - Katie Knight. That had people talking. The only thing that spread faster than a spell in Hogwarts was gossip and Cupid was secretly loving the attention he'd received lately. He'd had a taste of popularity and knew that now all he needed was the glory, the drama, the twists and turns in his tales to really relish fame. If only there were a mystery to unravel, a quest to conquer and claim victory.

Turning right along the dungeon path leading to the Slytherin Common Room Cupid felt his feet catch on something, something soft yet hard. Lost in his own fantasies of a photo signing in Diagon Alley the Slytherin landed flat on the floor, his forehead cutting slightly on the stone slabs that lined the dungeon passage. Raising a hand to his forehead Cupid flinched at the sight of his own blood. He'd never been good with blood. Dabbing it on his robes he managed to push himself up, taking it slowly and breathing deeply in an attempt to fight the lightheadedness that had suddenly come over him.

In an attempt to distract him from his own blood Cupid looked around to see what had caused his fall. Wide-eyed in horror of the sight Cupid felt the blood drain from his body and his face whiten at the image before him.

A girl, no older than fourteen, was lying on her heavy back wearing a vacant expression. Here eyelids were fused open yet her eyes didn't move. There was no emotion but horror staring out of her open windows. It was rather unsettling. Her chest didn't rise, nor did it fall but when Cupid lowered onto his knees besides her he could sense there was still life inside of her, she wasn't dead, merely... Merely... If she wasn't dead what on earth was she? A shiver crept along the back of the fifth years neck and his teeth let out a nervous chatter. Dark magic. There was no other explanation, unless she had a health issue, but what sort of illness had this as a symptom?

The sound of a gasp and the sudden halting of footsteps distracted Cupid. Averting his eyes from the lifeless body, instinctively Cupid called out. 'It wasn't me.' Great. That didn't sound suspicious.