"A tailor with a garden," Presley adds. He's tapping the door frame with his fingertips, still thinking about defense measures. What if it's not even a Dark creature...? Dammit. "I should be clear, as O'Malley was not terribly eloquent on this point, but these were not merely hooligans from a rival school. They were..."

He pauses. How to describe that dark, oppressive feeling without sounding hysterical?

"Not human. And not welcoming," Presley finishes. "I strongly advise that none of you travel alone after dark for the foreseeable future."