The hall was filled with the whole school, they gazed up at the statue of Sentinus. A small boy was chained to the leg, naked, shivering with scars across his chest.

Coldstone Harshing paced around the statue, his black cane in his hand and his wand in the other, his dark robes making him move like a ghost. His eyes gleamed with a new bode, he looked up on the boy as prey.

"Join me in prayer for the sentinus. I will speak. You will repeat."

"Oh, great Master, forgive us for living."