Fear itself is a Monster pv Closed

Thomas was an active boy, but not for the prevalent reasons that lead many to an active lifestyle. The boy found comfort in simply moving. A deterrent for the onslaught of disconcerting thoughts. To be back home meant to confront his past in England. There were no distractions, just raw and unfiltered reflection on not only what has happened here, and for what’s to come. It provided general unease, leading to a boost in activity in effort to escape his mind, to run.

It led his boy to leave his hotel one late evening, and take in the nightlife of the streets on his last night of a weekend trip away from New Romney. Thomas found comfort in the city’s atmosphere, there was always something near to do, and to see. A late night walk was ideal for distractions, at least in theory. Hasty footsteps carried the teenager along the sidewalks, occasional splashes from his boot soles submerging in patches of puddles. The boy followed his mother’s instructions to stay within a mile radius of the hotel, leading to a circular path around a few nearby blocks. She did not specify when to be back, a sense of freedom that offered comfort, but the boy did not intend to multiply her distress from being out late alone.

As he circled his last pass along the streets, a dim scarlet light caught his eye. The vicinity this light illuminated was moving every few seconds, before going still. The boy narrowed his eyes to locate the source, pausing any forward steps and drifting to a metal fence. Below the fence was a set of stairs that led down to an alley. Thomas eyed the gate to his right that provided a path to the alley. After brief contemplation that had his head turning back towards the hotel, he elected to act on his curiosity. Just going to see what this is and then back to the hotel.

The gate creaked close as Thomas swung it behind him, cautiously taking the staircase to lower ground. Upon entering the alley, he noticed an intersection that led in multiple directions. Around the corner to his left, the red light that drew him here swayed, growing brighter with each step. Whatever it was, it was getting closer. Thomas’ breath shortened with the anticipation of the unknown. His posture tensed when he neared the corner, halting his footsteps for a moment of collection. With a deep breath, he rushed from the corner to confront this source of light. What he found was not something he would expect.

The luminiscent red from magical object drew Thomas in like a curious feline to a beam of laser. Of course, Aurelia would not know that for her only focus as she navigated the dark alley was to exterminate a monster. Nestled in her palm, the compass-like the hand of the compass ocillated, the light growing a more vibrant red as she followed its direction. The boggart was near, very nearby.

Defense Against the Dark Arts taught her a few things about the malevolent creature. It not only took shape of one's worst fears but was able to duplicate their abilities to an extent. Thankfully for Aurelia, a dead 10 year old could possessed no significant threat, or so she hoped. In the first weeks following the start of her first year was when she first confronted a boggart, to put it simply, the experience had been terrifying. Revisting the memory of her brother's death evoked immense guilt and dispair that shook her for days. Yet there was a nagging urge do to it once again. To satisfy her need to see a sibling that her parents swept away from her memories of with a spell in an attempt to wipe him from existence. With this mission, she now had the chance to revisit her brother, even if it was just a boggart in the form of his corpse.

Perhaps facing her worst fear would not be as bad afterall.

A loud high pitched screech reeled the fourteen-year-old out of her abyss of thoughts. Scuttling against the dusty wall of the alley, Aurelia crouched to listen. The pattering of footsteps confirmed that it was definitely not a boggart. The echoing of steps grew, quickening. As the footsteps accelerated so did the pounding of the heartbeats in her ears. Whoever it was, the paranoid monster hunter would not waste a second as she rose to her feet and leveling her wand before carrying out the spell as the figure turned the corner.

"Flipendo." The incantation left her lips in a harsh whisper. A bolt of red vermillion light shot out from her weapon before hitting its target. A crack resonated through the narrow alley from the heavy impact. With her wand still raised in defense, Aurelia approached her victim now sprawled on the ground.

This was no muggle. This was Thomas. As to why the younger boy had followed her, Aurelia could only assume it was to sate his curiousity. It was not the first time someone had interrupted her mission following their instinct to discover. Her last hunt, to exterminate a doxy's nest was interupted by a housemate. Hogwarts students seemed to have a knack at putting thier noses where she would rather them not.

However, unlike the doxy dilemma which she would have been perfectly fine dealing with the monsters herself, a helping hand to face a boggart could prove to be lucrative than not. At the thought, a smile appeared on the lovely creature's visage as she outstreched her hand towards the fallen boy. If the Slytherin thought that he could easily return to wherever that he came from, he would be very wrong. Aurelia would soon make sure of that. "Apologies about that, Thomas." She said.

Given that the boy had caught a glipse of the contents within the pages of her precious leatherbakced journal, he would most likely have speculations of her little hobby. "I am here on a hunt. I could use some company." She simply stated. The terrible sentiment that radiated around her flared at the words. No was clearly not an answer she'd accept. The the compass heated up under her fingers. Aurelia turned the palm containing the object over, the intensity of the glow caused her to sheild her eyes from the harsh glare. That could only mean one thing. It was near. The smile on her face faltered. "Come on now. Your worst fear is near." With a firm grip on his arm, the girl tugged the boy along. The Gryffindor did not possess much strength, but if the boy attempted to make a dash, her wand would once again come in handy.

The alley was not well lit aside from the red glow that came from the boy’s left corner. He turned the corner to have a brief visual of a figure close in height, in her grasp was the source of red lighting. It illuminated the girl’s visage to reveal light brown hair that traveled past her shoulders. A cautious set of familiar grey-blue eyes found the boy who stood in darkness. Her wand rose upon recognition. “Wai--” A defensive plea was quickly interrupted by the girl’s incantation, a soft utterance that sent a flash of light traveling into his chest.

There was no time to sidestep or roll, as he was in too close of proximity. The spell would hit its mark, even with Thomas’ adept maneuverability. His body tensed before the spell carried him off his feet backwards, traveling several yards with arms instinctively positioning to lessen the impact on the ground. A harsh smack and grunt came as his back connected with the dampened pavement. Fortunately the boy strained to combat the momentum of his head enough to avoid colliding into the hard ground.

A discontented groan escaped his lips, his neck rolling backward to avoid the dim light above, contrasting against the overcast night sky. If it’s any consolation, the lighting would be enough for his assailant to identify who he was, and hopefully deter a follow up attack. Still, Thomas would assume a defensive posture, using one hand to steady himself into a seated position, and his dominant left hand to retrieve his wand. He pointed it in the direction of the girl that approached.

With the assistance of the low pressure sodium lighting directly above, combined with the red glow from the girl’s hand, he would recognize the girl as she neared. Thomas anxiously bit his lower lip as the air traveling around the girl carried a different consistency. Still a strikingly appealing visual, but an unnerving ambience increased with each step. Aurelia Notresvace, the soon to be fourth year Gryffindor appeared to travel with a purpose. But then arrived that same smile that came after the boy tampered with her dear possession, displaying her talent to subdue hostilities with grace. However, on the harsh end of her assault, Thomas would not allow the alluring charm to corrupt him so easily.

The girl’s apology did little to amend the developing crick in his back. As far as he knew, she did not feel an ounce bad about the attack. But Thomas would be hesitant to start a fight with the older and more experienced brunette. “I suppose we’re even now.” Thomas said with a groan. After he tore a page from her journal in the castle’s corridors, he may have had it coming. After all, any hostility Thomas held for Aurelia left when he reconvened with Howard White. Her warning was confirmed to be an honest one.

The girl would offer a hand, prompting a reluctant glare at her open palm before opting to accept her assistance in the rise to his feet. “You sure you have not found your target?” Thomas quipped, a rhetorical question, clearly showing a hint of bitterness held onto from the twinge in his back. The girl gripped his arm tightly to direct him on her path. She was telling and not asking, but surely Aurelia was smart enough to anticipate his unwillingness to help on such a vague pursuit. Thomas attempted to force his arm from her grip, facing the girl. “I think I’m owed more information before we move forward.” Thomas reasoned with raised brows, a subtle tilt of his head. “What is it you hunt?” His icy blue eyes then fell upon the object in her hand emitting the red light. “And that?” He inquired about the object in her hand, folding his arms across his chest. To firmly state he would not move until his questions were answered.

"There's something...different about you."Thomas added in a curious tone. It's not that he knew the brunette beyond their brief encounter. Though the air around her was noticeably different, leading the boy to address his thoughts. What's happened to you?[TP reference]

The founder of the spells, wands and games club was highly adept in spell casting, however, the magical potential packed in the dense wand wood was not that spectacular and a flipendo with only a decent amount of power was produced from the tip. Nevertheless, the spell had shoved the boy backwards. The impact likely leaving a few bruises she doubt that any of the damage done was severe. No internal bleeding or whatsoever, she hoped.

Were they even? Vindictive was not a word Aurelia would describe herself with, but she was definitely one to hold a grudge. She would be lying if she said that it was not the smallest bit satisfying to see Thomas hit by a spell cast from her own wand. After all, he had the cheek to meddle with her belongings, not to mention, vandalise the very journal her possible future career would depend on. "Consider it a little warning not to lay a finger on my belongings again." She warned, not emphasising on the words as she as rather distracted with assessing the red glowing object in hand.

To her chagrin, had only managed to lead Thomas a few steps forward before he stood in place, his arm escaping from her grip before folding over across his chest. Of course, the Slytherin would want more answers. He had the right to know whatever she was leading him into. Even if she were to use spells, she was only a fourteen year old and was likely not nearly capable to force the boy against his will to tag along on the hunt. However, another body would make her mission so much easier. One can never be too careful, and there were factors of the mission that were out of her control that could stray the wrong way.

Adamant to get answers, there were unlikely other incentives to get the slytherin to join in her escapade except answer his question. Partial answers, the last thing Aurelia needed was her new found mission partner to chicken out because of the truth. "I told you, Thomas, your worst fear. I hope you know yourself. What terrifies you?" Guaranteed, more questions would likely surface from the answer, none that Aurelia would be returning an answer to.

Aurelia opened her closed fist, revealing the red compass like object Thomas had enquired about. "This points to the direction of just that. Forwards. The boggart was down the alley, and it could not be too far away either. She did not have time to lose, as a matter of fact, she could not afford to lose the boggart for it was possibly the only way to redeem herself after the last mission which did not turn out too well.

Grasping the boy by the arm once again, Aurelia would trap his arm in a vice grip as she pulled him along only to be stopped in her tracks with his next comment. There was certainly something different about her own persona, Aurelia herself noticed. Since the trip to the quidditch stadium, great horned owl Aspen was not acting very well whenever she was near. However, what it was exactly that changed, Aurelia had not quite figure out yet except that her grandmother had joked that she had been spending too much time with dhampirs for their aura to have infested in her. Had she unknowingly developed a presence? Possibly.

"Some times, its better to be feared than-" her words were cut short when a bout of noise sounded down the dimly lit alley. The monster hunter was on alert once again, her eyes peeled and wand pointed in the direction. It was unlikely a stray feline causing a ruckus but more likely what she was looking for. Instead what her blue-grey eyes could make out against the dimly lit premises was a silhouette, small and humanoid. She had not expected for a young boy, one she had been all too familiar with to stumble out of the shadows, much less collapse right before her eyes.

Snap. The fall was brutal, his neck gruesomely twisted to an angle as his eyes stared up lifelessly. The whole scene was all it took for Aurelia to toss what ever plans she initially had, her head fogged up by the overwhelming feeling of distress. Before she could register what was happening, she left Thomas' side and rushed to kneel next to the limp body of the lifeless child, or should she say, boggart. The face that stared up at her almost instantaneously caused her stomach to flip. This was Raphael Bezuidenhout, her brother.

It appears fate did not smile on good starts for this pairing of students. Their first encounter an involuntarily run-in that left them each stumbling. The second, the girl sent Thomas off his feet to get acclimated with the collection of garbage along the alley pavement. Hopefully not a reflection of her thoughts regarding Thomas, but the boy would not be surprised after their tense introduction. Upon accepting her assistance to his feet, Aurelia would confirm the ground on which they stood was not stable.



She uttered a cold remark, albeit preoccupied with the source of red light in her palm. Her blue-grey eyes fixated on the source of light that gave her immediate surroundings a reddish tint. It would surely come in handy for a darkroom.Though Thomas would not care to define the artifact that drew him to her originally, instead miffed with the older girl's choice of words. Or perhaps you should maintain better control of your belongings." A retorting scoff formed. "And your emotions, for that matter.

Not only was Aurelia using magic outside school grounds, but her refusal to identify an encroaching Thomas before attacking could have offered a harsher set of consequences. What if in Thomas' place her spell was cast at a superior wizard, or a ministry official? It was clear consequences were not on the girl's mind, denoted by her intensity and the mention of your worst fear. Her guard was notably elevated, eyes magnetized to the apparent path in front of her. A scientist was not required, whatever Aurelia was searching for...it was likely not friendly.



A loaded question, and a short answer. Thomas was terrified of becoming his father, furthermore if the public's interpretation of his father as a manic death eater was an accurate one. It was the general consensus despite the many conflicting developments. Chiefly, Thomas Lestrange himself. More so his blood, the offspring of a muggle woman that his father wed many years ago. It led to Thomas' ongoing hunt for the truth of his father's story. Which was clouded by a coven of crones leaving the boy running in place, completing tasks he did not understand to achieve an ever-changing goal that molded him as a person to avoid among his peers.

Of course he would not offer this information to a girl he hardly knew, employing a deflection. "At the moment? You are. The dull pain in his lower back and elbows fresh in his mind. Aurelia did clarify the boy was not her intended target with a swift apology, but her demeanor implied she was not out to retrieve cupcakes. The idea of looking for her worst fear befuddled the boy. It's as if she meant it literally, which would lead him to deduce she was afraid of alley cats, a homeless man looking for change, or a repulsive smell. But then he would consider her fear represented as a tangible thing, a physical personification. Most likely of magical devices that he did not yet understand. Regardless, it piqued his curiosity enough to sustain his presence for now.

"I've heard of running from your fears," A direct reference to his own approach. "not towards them. Is this what you do in your spare time?" Hints of sarcasm trickled into the end of a rhetorical question. Thomas considered the journal he briefly flipped through before finding who he would now recognize as his associate, Howard White. "That's what the journal's for, innit? He deduced her worst fear to be one of those profiles in her little book, the alleged monsters. Thomas saw differently, Howard was no monster. No, he was just a boy.

Thomas' wishes to delve into the girl's relationship of Howard would have to be delayed, as the pair simultaneously whipped their heads in the direction of a small crash further down the alleyway. Upon approach, the shape of a smaller human was noticeable, though frozen in place. If Aurelia was still gripping Thomas' arm he would do his best to shake free before calling out to the motionless frame. "You alright, there?" Not immediately hostile, the figure was much lower to the ground implying it could be a lost child.

Thomas' question was quickly answered, whatever it was, it was not alright. With a series of awful cracks the figure collapsed, prompting Aurelia to rush away from Thomas' side. Thomas took a few helpless steps behind, lifting an open palm instinctively as if it would deter the little boy's fall, or Aurelia's approach. When Thomas neared closer, he was able to discern the face of a young boy. Those lifeless set of eyes made his stomach churn, leading him to halt in place. Did a boy just die before their very eyes? There was no logical explanation for his collapse, Thomas was both skeptical and afraid. He knew better than most, you cannot always trust what meets the eye. So Thomas stood there, stunned and motionless much like the boy, softly calling out to his company. "Aurelia...? Only hoping she could clarify what they were seeing was not real.

Aurelia was much too preoccupied to care of the boy's many questions nor the evident resent he held towards her for casting a spell in his direction. The body of her brother sprawled on the ground before her was far too important. Raphael Bezuidenhout had passed on half of the girls' lifetime ago yet his existence were still vivid in the fourteen year old's memories. However, this had not been always the case.

This was exactly the way she remembered her brother, laying motionless near the flight stairs in the Bezuidenhout mansion which he tumbled from. Those memories that was once taken from her, unsuccessfully but for most years, she had forgotten the entire existence of the very person she had spent her childhood with. Now he was here, right in front of her. His death was caused by an accident, the surfacing of the girl's first sign of magic. She was the reason why Raphael Bezuidenhout never lived past 9 years of age. Perhaps this was a form of punishment, a reminder of what she had done.

The corpse of the boy was one of a child. Yet his those blue hues, much brighter than hers were remained opened as if there was still life in them. With a trembling hand, her fingers came in contact with the boy's neck, searching for a pulse despite the fact that there was no warmth radiating from the child as it would a normal human. As expected, not a mere throb of a beat she felt. "H-he is still dead," saying the words out loud had caused her eyes to brim with tears which she had wiped away with a swipe of the back of her wrist.

This was a boggart. It was not her brother. Unfortunately, at the moment of acknowledging the fact, Aurelia refused to believe that Raphael Bezuidenhout had passed on, not when she had yet to apologise, and not until she knew that all the memories revoked from the annihilation of a charm had returned. Death was not an easy concept for one to grasp on, especially for a child like Aurelia. However, the sight of her brother was too much to handle. Once again, Aurelia raised her wand, the tip pointing towards the fallen child, all she had to do was utter a spell and he would be gone, just like those memories her mother stole. Did she truly want that?

Perhaps it was her eyes playing tricks on her or the lack of light in their surroundings, the boy, moved. A twitch of his fingers, a slightly movement of his eyes that caused the girl to drop her guard. A mistake she soon realised as in a flash, the palm of the supposedly dead boy was wrapped around her wrist tightly, nails digging in to her skin. This came as quite the a shock to the now horrified sister who let the magical weapon she wielding to slip from her grasp. "Let go. You're dead! You are supposed to be dead!" She yelled in despair, tears once again brimming in her eyes as she frantically waved her arm in an attempt for him to lose his grip. No matter how much the impostor of her brother was hurting her, already drawing blood from her skin under his merciless grip, there was no way she could deliver the slightly harm to the boy, not when she was the cause of his death.

The little boy that collapsed to the ground halted a disgruntled Thomas' criticism of Aurelia. Where Aurelia rushed, Thomas held still. The girl knelt next to the pair of bright blue hues that rolled back when she cradled his neck with her hands. Thomas' chest tightened, oblivious his breath suspended. In unison with her tone of voice, her hands delicately trembled as if consciously attempting not to jerk the wounded boy carelessly.



Not wounded, but dead. Aurelia's claim led Thomas's lips to part, but he remained still. Fixated on the younger boy. There was no air of familiarity, surely not old enough to attend Hogwarts. So how did Aurelia know him, and was her declaration he has deceased an emotional claim? The Slytherin boy could not be certain, too unfamiliar with his Gryffindor elder to know if a heightened emotional state led to brash claims.

There was more here to bewilder a small boy's unprompted collapse to death. Aurelia's reaction was something to note. Whether it was an entombed sense of compassion that initiated this release of emotion, or an attachment that did not freely meet the eye. The consideration of this prospect would have Lestrange hesitant to speak his mind, to question her attestation the boy in her hands was dead. Surely not a reliable source as girl muddled in her adolescence at the youthful age of fourteen.

Then his mind absorbed the words she uttered. Still dead. It was not her first time to witness the boy. Thomas remained hesitant to say anything. There are no words to supplement loss, only a presence. A shoulder of alacrity, readily available to remain with this person as they battle the departed. So the snake would finally break his firm stance, slowly stepping as if navigating through broken glass with bare feet.

At times, Thomas was tactless. Brash, unapologetic, and downright impertinent. These tendencies did not imply an absence of compassion, especially when it came to loss. As he neared Aurelia, he would speak softly with the intent not to startle. "Aurelia." His tone still firm in attempt to demand her attention. Though it was hard to do, the girl was fixated on the younger boy. And as time progress, there was a gradual increase, a fervent display.


A now perplexed Thomas would notice the boy's hands gripping her wrist tightly. Thomas could sense the pain in her voice that arrived with tears dropping from her cheeks. He could not remain idle any longer, announcing a warning before taking action. "Aurelia," He spoke her name again, this time with urgency. "Step back!" Thomas retrieved his wand, pointing it squarely at the boy's chest. If Aurelia refused to move, Thomas would use his free right hand to tug the girl's shoulder in effort to create an opening where her frame did not impede.

The result did not matter, as Thomas neared closer, the boy's figure was distorting. His body tangled and twisted before fading away into a black cloud. Thomas felt as if a cold bucket of water was poured atop his head, the transformation left him stumbling backwards at the sight of long razor sharp talons. A visage riddled in disconcerting warts and gashed. Covered by a thin cloth garment with crooked ends. A receding hairline, jagged teeth, and a crooked nose. It was most certainly a crone.

Startled by the transformation, Thomas' heel kicked against the concrete, the boy's hands clapped against the ground as he landed on his end. The wand released from his grasp and rolling along the ground before it came to a stop. The crone slowly drifted towards Thomas, forming a wide grin on approach. A bellow of laughter accommodated a familiar promise. "I will give you your truth."

Thomas's call for the fourteen year old would only fall on death ears. Aurelia was far too busy shaking the young boy off her, the skin now red and swollen with crescent indents along the length of her arm. Yet when the Slytherin took a step in between with his wand aimed at the younger boy, Aurelia would reach out, attempting to get the boy to lower his weapon. "No, Thomas, don't hurt him," she pleaded. Like Raphael had been with her with they were younger, Aurelia would take action to ensure no harm came to him, even if the person in front of her was only an illusion of her passed sibling.

But as Thomas stepped forwards despite her protests, the figure would morph, the youthful face of her brother was now in a blur. The change occurring in a span of a few seconds. Now what stood before the two was not a young boy but a creature that even stirred a feeling of dread in Aurelia. It possessed traits of a human, arms, legs and a curtain of frizzy hair. The nails that protruded from their fingers resembled more of talons. Aurelia had only seen such a creature within the pages of the books she studied. A hag.

At the sight, a wide-eyed Aurelia would take a cautionary step back. The distraction being her brother's presence now gone and replaced by that of a hag. Aurelia's priorities were now set back in order. Thomas, worst fear was a hag. The creature was too real, which would lead Aurelia too believe that Thomas had in fact came up and personal with one. Her suspicion further proven with the look in the boy's eyes and especially his boggart's next words. His truth.

The spell to remove the source of both their distress was one Aurelia knew. However, the hag's words had piqued her interest and she would be lying to say that she was not in the very least curious to what this 'truth' was all about. So Aurelia would not proceed with the spellcasting but still maintained a tight grip on her wand in defence.

The younger boy’s sharp grip on Aurelia’s wrist did not deter her defense of the boy. The instant release of emotion signaled some familiarity with him. Though the break of skin and drops of blood below were enough for Thomas to ignore her and intervene. With his approach the transformation began that left Thomas stumbling backwards until he lost his footing, left to look up at a familiar creature in bewilderment.

As the hag hovered over him, uttering a familiar phrase. The line that served as a string to be attached to his frame. Turning him in the direction of her choosing like you would a puppet. It left the boy transfixed on the sharp dagger-like teeth that were revealed with a wide grin, maggots escaping to trudge across her lips.

My truth? The boy’s mind recrudesces through the flashes of his past to the moment he initially encountered the creature before him. The vision she provided upon the lake floor, a glimpse of his father’s past. It established the firm grasp she retained to this very moment, a relationship spanning over two years--yielding no more than this initial moment. It warranted the boy to look past the hag momentarily, considering the truth he sought.

And as his mind drifted, so did the crone’s appearance. Left twisting into a cloud, a blackish blur that subtly transformed into the figure of a man. He stood still in a hooded black cloak, the top half of his face was concealed behind a white mask that was reminiscent of a human skeleton. The man calmly lifted his left hand to pull the mask off, revealing a set of familiar blue eyes as the boy glued to the ground. “Thomas.” The man spoke fondly, presenting the mask to Thomas--an offering. “Join me.”

The boy’s bones rattled, initiating a tremble in his forearms. His eyes narrowed in his despair, a series of swift repetitive blinks left tears spilling along his cheeks. The air in his lungs was drawn out from shock, leaving him inaudibly frozen. “Take it.” The man spoke again, this time with impatience. Thomas’ jaw clenched, scornfully shaking his head. His lips parted to speak, but shut again, overwhelmed with the impending sobs. Was this real?