Union of the Dragons' Heartstrings. PV: Hans Valentines Trip Finished

Roleplaying as Hans Jenssen

Besides the obvious excuse of a romantic getaway with the girl of his interest Hans had other plans for Beauxbatons. Of course he would never be one to downturn a social event where he could spread his butterfly wings, so entrusting his recovering brother in the hands of Valentin he went for the opportunity to meet new faces. From his tent mates from foreign schools to the Hogwarts boy, Matthew he had met over a sunrise, that endeavour was proving to be a fruitful one. There was also the small matter of trying to find a girl who he knew nothing more than east Asian and with “pretty blood” — like that narrowed it down any further. Was all of that worth the risk of a bombing? Maybe, but it wasn’t like he could turn back anyways. His two friends in Greece would be missing all the drama sure to happen but at least they skipped the trauma this time. After all they were pretty much relying on their writer’s fickle whims and gripe against repetition for safety from another terrorist attack.

To an adolescent’s mind however, a much more urgent matter was the fact that Valentine’s day was tomorrow. This offered more things to freak out on about than even going to that death trap of a school in Scotland. An over thinker despite every attempt to hide it his mind refused to believe it when Hans tried to convince the damn thing that he was well-prepared for the picnic tomorrow, that he, like always, had everything under his control. Well unfortunately for the smitten boy that was not entirely the case. Astrid could always, you know, just not show up, or leave, or consider anything else unhelpful. Perhaps not the mindset he should keep for an event he had informed her as nothing more than friendly. Definitely not the right mindset for anything. Hans knew there was an Anonymous Valentine’s tomorrow but, well, time to put some of his famed audacious confidence to good use because if he was going to say anything at all it would be said in person.

Soon thoughts of Matthew or Meiyu were entirely overtaken as their initials proved to be mediocre on the alphabet by the girl who had been occupying his mind for the last- oh he didn’t even want to think about how long this had been going on anymore. Starting strong just before summer and only snowballing as their relationship became much closer throughout it, he had been toying with the idea of finally telling her since he could remember. To his friends it was clear as day, and there was no way Astrid did not at least harbour guesses of his infatuation. That made Valentine’s an opportunity to at least try to put thought into words for the girl he should probably have told a long time ago.

If only life could be straightforward for a change.

Jolted out of thought by a very straightforward question, he looked up in an attempt to locate the route of odd words. “It’s not an intrusion,” Hans reassured quickly with a half-present smile as an unfamiliar sight was presented in front of him, a surprise, though, at least for the time being, not an unpleasant one. In fact he welcomed the distraction from his spiralling thoughts on his (and hopefully this would be changing) unsatisfactory love life. Leaning back he regarded the approacher in part bewilderment and part amusement, he found a shorter girl with a box in her hands and little emotion etched into her features. Deciding against revealing his identity without at least first asking for intention lest it be malicious he said instead of agreement, “Maybe. Depends on why you’re looking for him.”

LOCATION | Grounds, Beauxbatons DATE | Afternoon on 13th February 2025 INTERACTING | @Archer Duncan as Hans Jessen

774 | WORD COUNT x | OUTFIT heartbreaker | SONG

Typically, Meiyu would not make conscious efforts to maintain conversation, notably, with strangers. Though, the desire to search for her only friend forced her to converse, finding a victim to interrogate in her search that had already proven fruitless. Glaring at the boy who responded to her formality with a half-present smile, as though he had been preoccupied by enticing thoughts, most likely centred around the upcoming season of love, typical of a man; most being far too readable than they had desired, though, when it came to Meiyu, nobody could escape the wrath of her glare, as though she knew exactly what hid within their soul. Yet, the stranger she had intruded on had an odd effect, reassuring her that her search did not warrant her intrusion on others, despite their own search for love, a search she had put a halt to in pursuit of Hans and given the fact her adoration lied with one who did not make it to the trip.

"Why else would I be looking for him?" She scowled discontentedly, raising the box she had in her grip, cherishing the once adorned gift she had received, hopeful the latter whom she was in search for would share the same sentiment. As though it was not obvious that she had a gift to deliver, a sudden thought entered her mind, one that immediately repulsed her, prompting her eyes to narrow at the figure before her, despite his height being taller than her own, clearly a feeble attempt at intimidation. With her guards raised once more, she huffed before resuming. "You don't believe I'm in search of him to confess adoration do you? Besides, you could make yourself useful and tell me yes or no, if the answer is yes, I don't see why Hans would share any type of acquaintance with someone like you, who is clearly unwilling to help." Meiyu spat, growing irritated with the lack of aid from the foreign student, evident by the mere fact she'd never seen a face like this patrolling the grounds.

Besides, his looks did not resemble one of a troll, confirming it was impossible for the stranger to be a student at Hogwarts, who shamelessly opened their doors to troll like creatures who were under the guise of men. Though, perhaps the stranger would prove to be useful, aiding her in the search for the boy she'd previously shared correspondence with; that was, if he had any rationality to aid such a kind soul as herself. Her internal monologue almost reminiscent to that of a narcissist forced her to beckon with the reality that she had not been entirely kind during the brief exchange, sighing with discontent, she knew this was not the way to go in her pursuit for her friend, who'd been nothing but kind to her.

"Accept my apologies for the sudden... shift in tone. I'm searching for my friend, Hans, do you happen to know where I can find him?" She reaffirmed, continuing once more with a softer tone compared to the harsh one she used earlier with her temper brewing. It was embarrassing enough to be in search of a man, even more so with it appearing under the guise of misconstrued adoration almost comparable to infatuation.

Swiftly moving her fingers to open the latch of the dragon treasure box, showcasing a display of cautiously selected macaroons, likely to be expired and stale by this point with how the shell of the treat cracked due to little moisture in the previously sealed box after stealing them from one of her dorm-mate, who received them as a gift from her parents week prior and opted to not eat them out of sheer anger that her parents refused to bless her with a new broom, the moment Meiyu discovered Han's had a sweet tooth.

"See, it's just macaroons, for my friend, Hans. He has dragons, hence I chose a dragon engraved box to smuggle the pastry in, though, his adoration for all things pastry is very alarming but he promised to work on his diet for our mission of world domination." She continued, nodding at her final sentiment, though, likely to serve as useless information to the stranger. Irregardless, should the boy prove further to be useless, the idea of attacking him with the treasure box appeared more than ideal, yet, Meiyu frowned at the thought, wishing not to decorate the gift with the blood of someone Hans had no infatuation of, perhaps if she searched for the girl whom his heart belonged to and attacked her instead, the sentiment would hold more significance for their first meeting.

Roleplaying as Hans Jenssen

“Why else would I be looking for him?”

A discontent scowl accompanied the clearly rhetorical question, though for Hans he could have asked it without a shred of guile. Looking at him with narrowed eyes she was a person Hans had more difficulty in reading, plagued by this seeming obsession of hers, yet if it was meant as intimidation, he would be recommending her to the Juilliard as soon as he had the chance. Both shorter in status and clearly of less physical strength she had very little, although her words were said with such contempt and force it was as if they had been brutally exiled from her system. Yet Hans only held himself with the same coolness despite the borderline harassment he was being attacked by; he, after all, had no plans on lowering himself to such a standard of madness, nor did he himself believe he would define such a person as a friend either. At her last commentary Hans found himself chucking despite his attempts against it. Not even aware of what he had done wrong it was amusing how swiftly assumptions had been drawn, but soon enough he would prove that he was not too unwilling to help.

It had been enough playing around; there was no reason to ruin someone’s mood so close to a day of love and when her tone shifted into one more pleasant he had no reason to deny her of the information. At Meiyu’s reaffirmation he finally gave in to the relentlessness, “I do. Have you ever considered I may be the person you are, in fact, looking for?” Still bewildered on why this girl seemed to be arbitrarily looking for him, whom he was fairly sure she had never met before, Hans extended an empty hand, as if to ask her to elaborate on whatever it was she sought.

Leaning forward in admitted curiosity as the dragon-engraved box she had brought was pushed forward and opened its contents were macaroons, desserts he had probably almost choked on just yesterday, despite Astrid’s descriptions of “gustative heaven”. They did not look particularly appealing, and that was not solely because of Hans’ lack of affinity towards sweets. The box did not seem hygienic, nor did the cracked state of the shells reinforce the already negative desire to indulge in them. What a waste, considering how expensive such a small cookie was. About to comment, Hans was beaten to it as Meiyu began.

The only sane word in the girl’s entire sentence was macaroons and that wasn’t even a word Hans liked — soon enough he would be thinking how he had said he didn’t like pastries during their correspondences. Dragons, smuggling, world domination, the boy seriously just wanted to ask her if she could fuck off and why, for the love of God, a girl with a messed up mind was so headset on finding him when everything was playing out so perfectly. Yet the explanation did exactly what it had been meant to do, and by the end of it Hans was certain their would be no mistaking the approacher for anyone else other than his pen pal, Meiyu Xiang.

Perhaps “pal” was only a word for courtesy at this point. Hans had sent the first letter as a carefree escape from the events of the “Pyre” explosions and his parents’ nagging that followed. Receiving back a reply that gave him quite an attitude he had been intrigued by the girl separated by distance and soon the owls of Durmstrang and Hogwarts got extra work. Yet after his Christmas holidays the letters sent were in a continuous state of mental deterioration, one that had provoked both dreams of his own he would rather not delve into and his ongoing battle between sheer vexation at the lack of answers and desire to help this friend, even if they had never met in person prior. Now that he was finally sat in front of her she was no longer the girl he knew, gone was the sass and replacing a headstrong determination in all the wrong areas. Asking in a dry, unimpressed tone, which, in fact was not any guise designed for indifference nor casualness but his genuine thoughts, “You’re serious?”

He regarded Meiyu with upturned eyes carved in frustration, tired of her rambling nonsense. Seriously, she needed to see a psychiatrist, and a boy barely a year older was not it. Standing up in a huff and with the shake of his head Hans found his voice rising in both volume and agitation as his annoyance and concern crashed down all at once, voice no longer harbouring its usual carelessness, “I wish you’d just tell me what happened over Christmas and why everything changed, because I enjoyed writing to you while you were just making me feel like I’m being treated like a joke to you. Is it so hard for you to just be for real for once?”

LOCATION | Grounds, Beauxbatons DATE | Afternoon on 13th February 2025 INTERACTING | @Archer Duncan as Hans Jessen

891 | WORD COUNT x | OUTFIT heartbreaker | SONG

It quickly dawned on Meiyu, that the boy who stood before her, was Hans, who for some reason found her display of friendship humorous. The idea of friendship was always confusing to Meiyu, often deemed as off-putting to be around, with her arrival to England from Seoul creating a shift in her once bubbly personality; finding it hard to connect with others primarily due to different backgrounds and sharing little to no similarities with her peers in muggle primary school. Her withdrawal from peers only resulted in worry arising from her own mother, Elizabeth, who felt that enough intervention was required to warrant the aid of a shrink. The terror which came in the form as weekly sessions only left Meiyu more reluctant than ever to maintain friendships, finding the entire ordeal a waste of time. As vague as those memories have once become, the boy who had now revealed to be her friend, forced them to flood back once again.

"You're Hans?" She questioned to reaffirm her suspicions, her gaze softening, torn between bewilderment and excitement at the revelation. Yet, to her dismay, it was evidently one-sided, the latter appearing unamused by her presence.

As she continued to glare, with a softer expression, at the boy leaning in to observe the gift, maintaining her gaze as she searched his expression for any further hint that he was not who she thought he was. Despite her earlier excitement to meet the first friend she had made, his recluse towards her and the gift she worked tirelessly to prepare — taking extra measures to add a gift of sentiment with the dragon motifs decorated around the box, only forced her to reevaluate the entire situation. Already not going to plan, believing he would revel in finally meeting as he had once written, on the contrary, his facade was difficult to read, despite Meiyu's ability to read into people. For once, she was dumbfounded, confused by the lack of reciprocated feelings she believed would develop their friendship upon their meeting. Now staring at him perplexed with her head tilted, she furrowed her brows in utter confusion, unsure as to why the entire ordeal would resemble anything other than adoration for her dear friend.

"Is it so hard for you to just be for real for once?”

There it was.

Meiyu could no longer hide behind a stoic expression as the harsh words hit her, forcing her to finally falter with the shift in her emotions, reminiscent to the only time she'd ever shown anyone at that horrid institute how she truly felt. Despite all that occurred over Christmas, she had aimed to portray herself in such a manner that prevented onlookers from diving in too deep, keeping the worst parts of herself secluded; despite it being the forefront of her entire demeanour, shifting her personality to that of one unpleasant to be around. Once more, reminding her of the horrors from primary school, the difficulty she had in maintaining friendships despite feeble efforts made. Yet, with Hans, she'd put in the most effort she'd ever done in her life, fixated on their friendship more than anything, eager to finally meet the boy whom she'd shared correspondence with, resorting to theft of stale macaroons, placing the gift in a treasure box she had once valued; her own attempts at showing the boy how much she valued him. It was true sentiment in her eyes, a type of sentiment she had never felt before — nowhere near comparable to the adoration she had for a snake.

Despite the increase of her own heart rate and the blinks she made in attempts to regain composure, a poor attempt at keeping the tears which threatened to spill at bay. Meiyu found herself truly disheartened with his choice of words, being nothing but transparent with him during their letter exchange. Naturally she desired nothing more than to elaborate on what occurred, yet, it was too soon, a conversation for later, despite his desire for immediate answers. Her bottom lip immediately taking it's place between her teeth, biting back the urge to spew insults at the boy, irregardless for her nature to do so, her heart ached at the fantasy she'd curated in her mind; both on their meeting and Hans as a whole.

Tossing the open box at his feet, her gaze moved to watch the stale macaroons fall out of the box; crumbs following suit and finding their rightful place on the Beauxbatons grounds, beginning their ascent as fertiliser for the soil beneath them. Exhaling at the silence that fell with his final choice of words, she shifted her gaze, diverting it back to the boy who she once presumed to be a friend. "Go fuck yourself Hans, maybe if you knew how to talk to people normally you'd have a better chance with that girl you keep chasing." She spat, a tear freeing itself and falling, the texture of the wet tear against her cheek forcing her to raise her hand and quickly wipe the tear away. She'd already faltered, serving no use as she scoffed, growing agitated with the boy and turning her head away, refusing to glare at him any longer.

"Bastard." Meiyu mumbled quiet enough to escape his own hearing, her lips quivering at the utter heartbreak of once more, losing a friend.

Roleplaying as Hans Jenssen

“Don’t you bring her into this,” Hans warned as Meiyu veered threateningly close to his lines, not simply for his infatuation but because like any friend he refused to see her mention Astrid to offend. Watching her as the macarons fell to the ground he felt heat rising up in his chest although he knew he should not get engaged in a behaviour as childish as hers seemed today. He’d seen the tear that fell from her eye, chose not to acknowledge it and chose to still not clamp down on the rising fire to his heart. He’d heard the insult mumbled under her breath — fine enough, people have called him worse things and what a girl he had only been talking to over paper thought of him hardly mattered. So why did he return his vexation in a stellar collision when he could have simply walked away, indifferent?

Anger: the useless emotion of destruction. Hans should know better than to allow himself to fall victim to it. As fiery as bravery but as dangerous as malice, yet an emotion so common he knew with certainty it was beneath a smooth-talker as him. Raised since youth to draw attention though not the glaring judgement at irrational outbursts but rather a collected scene wrapped around his little finger. As spontaneous as many deemed him to be control was a quality of the essence, as like how he indulged in having the room hang on his very words; anything could happen, for better or for worse, as long as he was the host of the show. Anger, however, had led to slammed doors and tear-stricken faces, hands led to thoughts he wished out of his hear like how lady Macbeth frenzied over phantom blood stains. Flames, as he had learnt through the summer, which the incident at Hogsmeade had only reinforced, had both pros and contras, inviting though with hidden ramifications. So be it if she was angry at him, the feeling would remain unreciprocated, just as her invitation at friendship seemed to be. He most certainly would not allow this girl to bring upon such a weakness.

For after all Hans had promised to heal. After bewilderment had been concern, and it was a concern he still harboured. If his father does so everyday, if he had succeeded in that Durmstrang medical wing, why should this be any different? Unlike the first two Meiyu would not need scalpels nor a reviving spell — hers was a problem seemingly not within his meagre grasp at not even thirteen, but it was also a problem he did not know, and while he could reluctantly claim he had no solutions, how could he when not even a diagnosis had been given. From the blatant evasion and sudden one eighty in tone he was certain something had happened over Christmas break, though unlike his rekindling of familial trust it read as far different. Though promised he would be enlightened come their meeting in person Meiyu had only continued in her rambling hysteria. But there was no use standing around in frustration. Though he reckoned the girl would hardly want to talk to him anymore and if not he would get his closure at least. “It’s not that I don’t want to help you, just how t-” breathing deeply and restarting as he forced his tone to make a sharp turn from exasperated to gentle, he continued, “Just how am I supposed to be doing that when you have given me absolutely no answers.

“Or do you just not want my help anymore? Sure, whatever, that’s fine too.” Back when the bombs had just struck Hogsmeade, when he had pulled Nikolai out of the flames he had senselessly charged into only to be berated for the action, Hans had been desperate for any means to fix things. From his guilt for actions that led to their first true argument, to the carnage in his world he felt completely helpless to, life was so out of his control that his only coping mechanism became searching for places where he could heal the inevitable wounds. His best friend was a small minority out of the many people he knew he was comfortable with his vulnerability. Irina’s request for him to show the same in front of her almost felt as a betrayal to those closest to him, and he couldn’t — there was little reason to elaborate on, he just couldn’t. When she had left in apology, calling herself time and time again a fool the seed of remorse had only been further lodged in the young boy’s heart. He knew, especially in times of such turbulence, he had no business going around claiming he had the elixir to the complicated layers of the world’s many problems. Yet as his father would say medicine was a job for the patient as such as it was for the surgeon. He couldn’t help the world, especially the ones for refused it. Perhaps the same philosophy applied here, even if Hans once regarded Meiyu as a friend.

Eyes sweeping over the macarons on the ground, Hans returned his gaze to the girl with an apology, though similar to her crafty remarks in their correspondence he skirted around his meaning, “I’m sorry, I understand you probably went out of your way to get that.”

LOCATION | Grounds, Beauxbatons DATE | Afternoon on 13th February 2025 INTERACTING | @Archer Duncan as Hans Jessen

870 | WORD COUNT x | OUTFIT heartbreaker | SONG

Unfamiliar with the concept of friendship, Meiyu typically misunderstood the significance of such, partially bewildered by Han's shift in tone and demeanour. Immediate defence at the mere mention of the girl whom his infatuations resonated with, yet, so quick to retort to unnecessary nastiness. Feeling sour at what she assumed to be a delightful union, Meiyu scowled at raised guard Han's conveyed, typical of men to cower over prying victims. Though, the painful reminder of what occurred in the vicinity of a family home at the hands of a deluded sickly man, forced her to pry her eyes shut, desiring nothing more than omitting the horrid and traumatic memory from her mind. Huffing with a wry distaste evident on her face, she turned away from the boy she once mistook as a friend; one far preoccupied with aiding her rather than the more joyous companionship she'd envisioned for their day.

Chanting a soliloquy she cared little for, Meiyu's gaze fixated on the few students who seemingly excused themselves from their vicinity, granting the pair privacy, yet, in Meiyu's eyes it was far too soon to outline the details he desperately sought. In theory, the topic would best be disclosed in a more private manner, not on the foreign grounds with the stolen stale macarons tossed aside; just as he had done with her feelings. Despite her efforts to present herself in a better manner, finding some control with the internal voice that plagued her, it appeared to be to no avail; the mania she had once portrayed during their correspondence had left a lasting impression of herself and his frequent correlation to her Hyde began to bother her more. Far too concerned with being of some help for his own sake of mental wellbeing rather than genuine care for a friend only caused her to grow more irate with the situation, irregardless to his weak apology, which had been directed at the stale pasties than hurting her.

"If you were truly sorry, you wouldn't have let your tongue get the better of you." She spat, shifting her gaze back to the boy, glaring at his expression to find any flaws in the genuinely he tried to portray with his words. Crossing her arms, primarily as a method of self-guard, she momentarily narrowed her eyes, peering around for an enclosed environment in the hopes to finally spare him of his curiosity. Hans had already proven his allegiance, despite the evident shift towards her, the least she could do was spare him the immense details of what happened, then allow him to determine his involvement with her; though, her hopes remained minimal.

Once she'd confirmed students were far enough, she exhaled the breath she unwillingly held close, glaring once more at the older before beginning. "I never asked you to help me," she spat once more, growing more infuriated as she attempted to convey her true feelings on the matter, "regardless of that, do you even understand how much of a hard time I had? Or how much I anticipated this meeting?" She paused momentarily, scowling at him as the memories began to flood back. Throughout the few months she returned to the castle, Meiyu was plagued with a barbaric voice compelling her to attack once more, her slumber forcing her to envision creatures attacking her and those around her, albeit merely acquaintances; the two combined forcing her to sacrifice sleep at the cost of her sanity. Fortunately, the excursion to Beaxbatons provided her with a breath of fresh air, momentarily sparing her from the shackles of her own mind that wished to torture her at such a young age — likely scarring her for life. It wasn't adequate to a medical issue, one that could be fixed with a quick trip to St. Mungo's Hospital, being far more severe, it would land her in an institution should the information reach those with power to put her away. Meiyu couldn't risk that, not with her newfound freedom from her almost controlling family who were far too preoccupied with keeping up appearances; just as she had begun to do with the paranoia that she had previously welcomed with open arms.

"Hans, would you help a murderer?" She piqued with curiosity, hyper-aware of the answer any sane person would respond with. Meiyu's perception of Hans, was one she had yet to deduce, unsure of how she felt with the lack of information the boy wished to share despite his eagerness to pry into her own matters. Morally, one would never help someone capable of taking a life, her own beliefs partially aligning with the majority, though, nobody had experienced what she had; Evpraksiya being the exception.

"Would you be willing to take that secret to your grave? It's nowhere equivalent to the macarons I stole as a gift of friendship, a secret that would bind us, Hans. Are you willing to go that far? Even if it were me?" Meiyu continued frantically, her arms falling back to her side as she inched closer to Hans, her voice lowering with immense fear of being heard, her fixated gaze on him unfaltering and her breath hitching as she finally spoke aloud what had plagued her for months.

Roleplaying as Hans Jenssen

Seemingly undeterred by her rude (and arguably deservedly-so) response, Hans tried again despite the daggers glared at him, “But I never said you asked for it. I’m offering it; it’s just I want to help you.” Yet despite all Meiyu could have said her next question, almost childishly curious, forced into him a complete change in tone.

“Hans, would you help a murderer?”

“What?” He asked, voice on guard with caution as his hands instinctively searched for his wand, then louder, in exclamation, even though he had heard and understood each of her individual words, “What did you just say?” When the letters came together semantically the meaning grew completely lost to him — this short, sassy first year committing murder — was this yet another joke? Was this meant to be funny? Was this her twisted idea of humour when those nights when Nikolai had finally drifted off into a peaceful rest he waited in inevitable trepidation? Those eyes that had first greeted him with fear, hatred, rage, all emotions he should have known all too well weren’t directed at him yet all emotions he would have understood coming from the boy. His volume rising again as an accusational tone pounced on one originally in disbelief, rage at the irony evident despite knowing full well that he should have suppressed it, “Why for the love of God would you ever ask that?” In his uncontrollable impulse he would have no trouble believing Meiyu the demon sent to remind him of and laugh at him for all his sins, even if none of them had been committed but just the bare thought of stabbing a knife through someone and with such certainty that it would be done. Then he could not remember his purpose of trying to help a friend in need of help as darkness descended over his psyche, the memories of nightmares he had thought just ceased returning to plague him, just as he thought they would each time the memory of Nikolai’s broken figure flashed in his vision.

KILLER.

They are staring at you. Everyone sees you for your crimes, for the blood in your hands and not the indignation screaming in your veins; everyone sees you and they point judgemental fingers as you are labelled as monster, wretch, and worse than the villain you murdered. You thought for the closure you brought he would run into your embrace you yet he left, again, expect this time you had truly sinned. But his gaze follows, wherever you go — a portrait on the wall, a picture in your head, or who the hell knew anymore, maybe just a personification of his remorseful conscience. You deserve it, to be left, look at you. You’re not even the boy they knew anymore. You’re only the darkness left after all the light’s burnt off you. You burnt, you burnt out, and no one’s waiting, because your father heals, your brother loves, and you? You? You kill.

“Heavens…” he muttered as a brief ray of red settled then dissipated before his eyes, taking ahold of himself as he grounded in the details of Beauxbatons. Pushing his wand back into his pocket for he was done with aggression his gaze relented from Meiyu’s. Hans was one to rarely feel overwhelmed, yet just as the Pyre once more he felt death so palpable in the air between the two of them. Perhaps no physical manifestation like the fires at Hogsmeade “Well, even if you are a murderer—” then, tired of the wavering nature of his voice, cleared his throat and said in a much more convicted tone, “That’s not right but I may not be too much better. I know you’re not a psychopath, though there must have been a reason behind it.”

No— the hell was he doing? Was this any different then offering asylum to a criminal? After all it could barely be argued he cared for Meiyu enough to bend laws for her. Perhaps though, reminding himself not to act rashly, it was merely the delusions of a troubled girl; he should listen, at least, but not without his own conditions. “Wait,” Hans said, breathing deeply before holding up a hand to the words he had long-awaited to hear. Usually pressure was nothing against calm calculation, but Meiyu’s distraught agitation only exacerbated his own for her delusions on paper was a far different matter from her delusions when she stood before him, flesh and blood. Her body now much closer to his, her gaze, as fearful as it was determined locking onto his, and the entire interaction was more unsettling than he would like to admit, if only out of the utter irrational uncertainty Meiyu posed. Leaning back though not with his eyes taken off of the girl he said slowly, willing authority and force into his voice that determined the following as lines he would not cross even in theory, “Before you say anything Meiyu, there are certain things you need to know. I don’t care what you did but I’m not the accomplice. Don’t pull me in the wrong direction. Don’t get my friends in any of this. Don’t get me involved in anything bad; I can’t live with myself otherwise.”

She’s sick, just as Nikolai had been, and yet through the bruises and wounds Hans had still recognised Nikolai. All the sick can heal.

LOCATION | Grounds, Beauxbatons DATE | Afternoon on 13th February 2025 INTERACTING | @Archer Duncan as Hans Jessen

1,161 | WORD COUNT x | OUTFIT heartbreaker | SONG

Medicine was not an unfamiliar term within the Xiang family, her paternal grandmother ran a successful herbal medicine clinic in the heart of Seoul with her only aunt working as a doctor in a top hospital located in Seoul, the consequences of being born without magic forced the two Xiang women to adapt; seeking muggle careers with the desire to help others. During Meiyu's short time in her motherland, had she not had been raised under the hands of a pureblooded mother, the likelihood of her following in suit would prove to a burdened dream she would fail to achieve; spending most of her time dismantling dolls gifted to her and trampling on their muddy plastic bodies after throwing them into a wet puddle when she'd play with her brothers. To her parents demise, it was merely the consequence of Meiyu being the sole daughter within the family, a trait present in both sides of her family — birthing one daughter on each side, thus being no surprise when two boys followed after Meiyu's birth.

Yet, Hans' eagerness almost comparable to a deeply rooted desire to help, was one she was familiar with, though, not on her end, of course. Meiyu had never displayed care to others besides her two younger brothers, therefore, extremely unfamiliar with the desire to truly help others without the reward of personal gain on her side. Perhaps this was what friendship was, caring for one another. In truth, Meiyu did care for Hans, wishing to aid him with a better diet plan and help him steal a dragon should circumstances reach the dire point of requiring to do so. Unable to comprehend a response, she maintained her glare at the boy before finally divulging into the horrid unspeakable matter of what really happened over winter.

Meiyu's gaze shifted to the sudden movement from the boy who stood before her, evidently searching for his wand in retaliation, as though he would become her next target, as though the man from that night had even been a target. Most — if not all, that memory had been blocked out as a coping mechanism, desiring nothing less than to recall that awful incident in retaliation of her dearest Evpraksiya, the most alluring and beautiful porcelain doll too fragile for the atrocities of this Earth. Her infatuation with the Slytherin, soon-to-be cousin in-law, was far than comprehendible for a mere mortal, their bond strengthened to unspeakable lengths following that evening; a level of respect and adoration she hoped to one day reach with her beloved, Hans. To her dismay, his reaction vastly contrasted her internal desires, his tone of voice raising as though desperate to cause a diversion and prompt surrounding students to call over a professor who would send her straight to St. Mungo's and lock her up with no dragon stealing prospects.

"Would you lower your voice?" She gritted, her eyes darting around once more, fortunate that most students had vanished off in preparations for the horrible day that presented itself as Valentine's Day; a waste of chocolate and macarons if you asked her. "You said you'd help me, so I wanted to know if you'd help a murderer." Meiyu resumed coldly her previous expression which shifted into one of concern with the sudden volume of Hans' voice, returning once more to her usual stoic expression, one she had grown accustomed to and only worsened following the barbaric voice lessening its torment on her mind. Despite the overall shift in her behaviour following her admission into Hogwarts, the shift that followed in suit after winter forced her to feel and display unfamiliar emotions, her pupils often dilated with a fear of being followed and the combination of inability to force slumber, leaving her awake for lengthy hours until her body gave in and forced her to respite.

Her eyes wavered over the boy who had quickly morphed into something unfamiliar. Initially excited to meet the first friend she had ever made within her twelve years of living, his mere reaction forced her to take a step back, her gaze shifting down to his wand once more and noting the push of his wand. The sudden shift in his demeanour indicated to Meiyu that he was hiding something, this wasn't the same boy she had at most times, pleasant exchanges with; rather, there being something sinister deeply rooted within him, something he wished to never portray.

Hans also had a Hyde.

As she cautiously listen to his words, the mere reference to that of someone deranged upset her once more, her emotions heightened by him raising his voice; appearing big in her eyes just as that man did that night, towering over the young girl as though he was ready to pounce and cause harm, only this time, she was without her trusty dagger, the thought of being defenceless once more truly petrifying her and causing a shiver to run down her spine. "Of course there was a reason, do you think I would do that without one?" She spat in rebuttal, her voice betraying her with a quiver despite her futile attempts of raising her voice in retaliation. She spent countless of sleepless nights contemplating her internal battle, outlining the pros and cons of her own personality to determine whether in truth, she maintained an awful nature akin to those who deserved to be locked away, convincing herself that deep down, she was good. Yet, she was unable to believe it any longer, not when Hans acted like this, as if she was sick and needed his help. Friends don't treat their friends like this, surely a friend would stick by your side irregardless to the bad you do? Unfortunately, Meiyu had once more found herself in a predicament, struggling to comprehend what true friends would do in such a situation, given her lack of experience within that department.

Hans had only worsened his case the further he spoke, wishing no involvement in the matter and wishing his friends to be spared, refusing to take into consideration their own friendship, one she had grown to cherish. "Are you that self-centered you have to make it about you?" She scoffed in response, bewilderment at his laissez-faire attitude towards the whole ordeal, as though he had forcibly been roped into her issues. "I never got you involved, you kept pestering me, you ruined what was meant to be a nice day. If you weren't so focused on fixing others you would be able to mend your own scars, which I know you're hiding from me. There's something you're not telling me and for that alone, I cannot trust you, not anymore." She choked out, muttering the last phrase as her vision blurred and breath quickened once more, unable to control the free falling tears which she didn't shed out of sadness or fear.

How could he expect her to be honest with him, if he wasn't honest to her, let alone himself?

Roleplaying as Hans Jenssen

“If you weren't so focused on fixing others you would be able to mend your own scars.”

For how much Hans underestimated had the girl, that hit hard. Leaving him with nothing to say even when her tears began to shed freely in a current, he backed up a few steps suddenly feeling vulnerable then raised his head in instinctive defence. Holding Meiyu's glossy gaze with less amiability than his usual gregariousness he felt threatened despite her display of weakness. Not saying anything for much longer than any natural pause he didn't know whether he was thinking or stalling, but it wouldn't have mattered anyway.

“Fine,” he said decidedly in relent after knowing their back and forth of evasion and arguments had gone on too long, yet still somehow having not yet just simply walked away. He could live with playing into Meiyu’s game as long as he had the ropes in his hands; perhaps changing the direction in his favour would be a benefit to the both of them. Already feeling the unshakable guilt at her torrent of tears he knew it would be unwise to withhold yet he knew it would be unwise all the same to pour out his heart when their first, let alone anticipated meeting, had only gone completely downhill. Beginning with cautiously chosen words he said, “If you think I’m so self-centred that is exactly who I will be then. After all you are the one asking for me to show what I’ve been hiding. When I envision the parents of a particular boy I know I have envisioned them with a knife in both of their backs since October last year. Trust me, they are terrible people — no such thought would cross my mind otherwise — and I think they deserve to die even though I should know I need to step aside for the justice system to handle them, because that is what their son would want. So I have been having dreams since, which I suppose are nightmares. I don’t understand them, just that I killed them and probably a part of myself while I was at it. But Meiyu, the only thing thats stopping me from becoming a murderer, or at least charging into their house and trying to, is merely the physical distance that separates my victims and I.”

The usually composed boy’s hand trembled, but he was quick to shove it into his pocket. A Durmstrangnian who proclaimed himself as fearless as the rest of his lot he would never admit, at least not to Meiyu, much less under such circumstances, that he was scared, not even of some rational thing like monsters or the Hogsmeade bombings, but his very own self, just the little boy who liked to fly about on his broom and hoped to get a guitar for his swiftly arriving birthday. Even though he rarely showed it anxiety plagued Hans in the combat lessons his counterpart had already resigned from, not of the blow his opponent might strike but of what he could potentially unleash. He had never read the classic — no, that was more of a Nikolai thing to do — but he did wonder where Jekyll ended and where Hyde began.

Yet it came as no surprise that the words felt so refreshing after having kept them a secret for what now neared a good five months. Perhaps he had considered resorting to the sheltered methods of pen and paper and describing the entire ordeal to a stranger whom he could simply ghost, or perhaps he had pondered if he should ask Headmaster Albrecht for advice, or hell, even Valentin. Despite knowing fully well that would only lead him to being shielded from the White Seeker’s dear Kolenka, he was not only so desperate for a snap-of-the-finger solution but knew that that was probably the better path to take altogether. Therefore least of all whom the matter concerned most was in the light. Hans could convince himself that he avoided the subject with Nikolai as to not add another burden onto the recovering boy’s shoulders and while that was partly true his greater concern laid in being seen as the monster he knew he was already, or, as Meiyu had artfully put, to let his guise of helpfulness slip and reveal the Hyde that lay dormant, but ever-vigilant below, ready to pounce once the curtains were drawn apart to reveal it. The first night after his dorm mate’s night terrors had awakened both of them, the boy whose life had just been attempted on had explained to him, following profuse apologies, how he feared becoming the man he most despised.

The ironic twist he had forced himself not to irrationally blurt of course was the brother who sat comforting him had no better intentions. Just like the yearning for death a murderous Mikhail had enacted Hans was no different, and he may not be honest with himself but he did know himself well enough to be aware that the very moment he could get his hands on that bastard of a father, he would be dead. And soon would Myrene be too, just another bloody adornment in that crimson tinted room which smelt of death itself. He remembered, that night when his word had collapsed, that a tearful Nik had said to him that he needed to be better than them, that he would stop watching and start acting. Perhaps this too had been Hans’ idea of ceasing to peek at the fucked up Volkov household from the sidelines and actually end the damned family line for good. After all they had only brought not just his brother but the world no good. Yet, consumed by rage and helplessness, he felt that he, and not his best friend, slowly, steadily, had become the striking resemblance of what he had sworn to destroy.

Flinging his hand up as if he hardly cared, although Hans was perfectly aware that he felt the complete opposite, he said, voice less on edge while he was busy furiously trying to convince himself he did not just exacerbate the predicament they were already in, “I guess now you know, Meiyu, and I hope you’re happy knowing this is who you’ve made friends with. I don’t care if you actually brought down the dagger, at least you didn’t literally dream of taking a life. All I know for sure is what little I had just told you so yeah, make what you will from it.” Pausing as he reconsidered whether he should vocalise them or not, Hans eventually only kept the thought to himself, and perhaps for later, if he could bring himself to share what he had kept silent for so long.