That One Fateful Night PV Closed

These words snapped Thomas into focus. Away from the brutish girl at his side and back onto the grievous threat inducting the Hufflepuff’s primal nature. Dispelling the comfort Thomas clung to, a common goal, a unique understanding. The hag’s game was only beginning, she did not slice through flesh for sport. The creature was baiting Howard to finish what she started, laying out the next step the boy must take. Now prevalent to the boy the differing covens were not in agreement, even if of similar nature.

Thomas needed to run. Back to the castle, no, back to his master--auntie. Though how could he? Already offering himself up as a tool for betrayal, a guide for Howard to complete his task. As the crone laid out Howard’s assignment, Thomas would stir on the dark floor with this internal conflict. The information he has may be the only way to salvage his connection with the other coven. Either way, betrayal was on the menu. The boy would have to choose between the coven he was loyal to, or Howard White.


Albeit worthless, Erin was still there at his side. Exchanging verbal barbs was the new norm for the two. Maybe the time was near for the two to make amends, change the script, take hands and skip through the lilies of friendship. “Oh fuck off.” Maybe not. Regardless of the status of their ongoing quarrel, Thomas realized Erin was his best way--perhaps his only way, out of this. The crone was biding time until the smell of his blood overpowered Howard’s senses. At that moment, like a dog, she would send Howard to finish the job.

It was time to utilize Erin. Thomas would reach for something, anything[PG-THIRTEEN]. Likely her wrist, tightly squeezing. The boy’s ice blue eyes widened as he insisted Erin’s full attention return to him. “You need to run.” His voice barely above a whisper, head motioning to the path from whence they came. To run in this place of darkness that the crone seemingly defined was not a stroke of genius. But it was the only move the boy had.

A dull plan to send Erin first, but it would potentially work to his advantage, as if he was only chasing after her to retrieve her. The loss of blood has muddled the mind, leaving Thomas weary with increasing panic. Regardless of the hag’s intentions, he did not want to faint in such a place. Leaving his body for the old crone and malnourished dhampir.

If Erin chooses to run, Thomas would rise to his feet and chase after her.

If Erin does not run, Thomas would find his footing. Subtly swaying as he squeezed the blood from the piece of fabric Erin provided, a collection of drops falling to the floor. Regardless of Erin’s choice, he would force her into action if the crone or Howard chose to pursue the boy. He hoped. In a brittle tone, he addressed the crone. “We should do this again sometime.” Thomas tossed the fabric at Howard’s feet like a treat for a dog. He nodded at Howard in a cordial manner, it was nothing personal.

Relying on the adrenaline that came from running from one--no, two deathly threats, Thomas turned away from the group, bolting in the opposite direction.

@Erin Ryan @Thomas Lestrange

Howard’s red eyes locked with the diseased and wicked gaze of the Crone as she corrected him. Her words of advice would repeat in his head several times as a brief moment of silence fell between them. You would sleep better if you ate better. The Dhampir knew her words were true. Howard was a being of mixed natures. Part of him remained human that night he transformed while the other was consumed by the dark nature of an undead predator. Yes, part of him could sustain on a normal human diet. The food would fill his belly and nourish his body, but the other half of him starved. Fill his belly he may, but the undead side of his physicality yearned for blood.

He had fed from a human only once before and oh what elation had come with it. Like a man left to live on scraps for years, he drank from her deeply as if it would be his last meal. The way his body fed off of the nutrients and energies of her life sustaining fluid had set his mind ablaze. It was as if he was truly alive for the first time. Fortunately for Howard his victim had fought back, sparing him the crime of murder, but it left him with an ache that could never be soothed. Try as he might to contain and control himself, the urge to feed on human blood was with him always. The Hag’s words would tug at a string that would slowly begin to unravel over the next few years of Howard’s life. It confirmed in him that forcing himself to withdraw from a source he needed to survive was like asking a normal human to intentionally starve themselves because society had determined how they ate was appalling. Who were they to demand such a thing from him. Had he no rights to be what nature had made him!

A sudden shift in the Crones movement would snap Howard back to the present as she demanded his bargain. What he asked for was something that he thought would bring him freedom. A way to preserve and protect the life of the one soul he truly cared for, while simultaneously carving that existence out of his life. It was his last ties to the very small amount of innocence he had left. He would protect her while he destroyed the last of his humanity. A way for him to finally erase Howie completely and embrace his true form as Howard, an undead nightmare. What a fool. What was to come would indeed destroy him as the boy would turn into a man fueled by hate, but oh what a price he would pay.

If Howard was a wiser person, he may have picked up on the sick delight that coursed through the Crone’s eyes. Was that almost a smile that spread across her cracked and dying lips? Perhaps, but this Dhampir would not pick up on it as she made her final offer. Try as he might, it would still demand blood as a part of its price. The blood of someone sweet. Howard would not say it aloud, but he internally denied the Hag. There had to be another way. He would not hurt her, not that way, but fortunately for him someone very sweet would enter his life in just a couple weeks. Down the rabbit hole he went...

“I accept. I will call to you when...” Howard’s words were cut short as a series of disturbances were picked up on by his acute senses. His ears would hear the shuffle of clothing against stone as the pair behind him rose from where Thomas had laid injured. A whisper not meant for him would be heard nonetheless as he urged Erin to flee, but it would be the smell of blood that would peak his senses the most. Perhaps it was just his imagination, but it would seem to him that the Hag’s gaze would look past him for just a moment before returning. Something in her wicked smile and dead stare called to Howard, as if it was a challenge.

The Dhampir would turn on the spot, his blood red eyes connecting with the striking blue of Thomas’ as he addressed the Crone. Splat The makeshift bandage smacked against the stone near Howard’s feet. His gaze would very slowly shift to the floor before returning to Thomas with a stare as dead as the Hag wore behind him. It would be then that Thomas would flee with (presumably?) Erin in tow, but Howard would not give chase. Not in the immediate anyways.

As their figures disappeared into the shadows, Howard would reach down to pick up the bloodied cloth. As he stood he tilted his head back and held the bandage to his mouth with both hands and squeezed. The drops of blood would connect with his tongue and stain his lips red as a sick sound of sucking filled the space around him. His breath would quicken as the primal grunts of satisfaction echoed in his throat. It was barely a mouthful but his body responded as it fed off both the blood and the magical energies that flowed through it. He had almost forgotten how sweet the blood of Wizards was. He might not know it now, but Howard was developing a preference.

When the bandage was spent he dropped it to his feet and breathed deeply to calm himself. His body begged for more, but the taste would have to do for now. There was still business to attend to. Turning his head over his shoulder he would speak to the Hag once more before following the pair into the shadows. “Leave him to me. I’ll make sure he complies.” Thomas was the key to his plan. It would be his knowledge that would guide him to the source he needed. There was only one problem, Thomas was aligned with the other Coven and now knew Howard’s intention. Perhaps he could persuade him or even threaten him to do his bidding, but what he absolutely could not allow was for Thomas to warn the rival Hags.

Fortunately for this particular Dhampir his mind went to the image of objects almost long forgotten. Just two floors up, there they sat at the bottom of his trunk. A small purse filled with coins, needle and thread. That’ll shut him up.

Erin was stubbornly refusing to comply with Thomas' plan. Be it to save them or get them killed, she was one to spite the snake until the very end. When she refused his plea -- to run, he left them no choice.

Thomas did what he did best. He was a complete and total asshole. The sort that the girls seem to go for, perhaps for lack of better option or to fulfill their own issues with their father or authority. He would antagonize Howard because why the hell wouldn't he? Pushed away, yet again because who needs blood on the inside when you're Thomas frigging LeStrange!

He would toss the blood-soaked rag at Howard. His own wounds tearing open in the process, the delicate clots dislodged on woulds that were far from clean and would ultimately fester. Blood bait with attitude, he would not wait for Howard's reaction. To be chased down like a lame-ass gazelle in a cave. Thomas was able to chug away at top speed beside his anemia.

This left her with two options:

One. Abide by her hunter-like chase instinct and chase the running Thomas. There was an impulse, it was hard to deny. It was like a cat watching a string wiggle in their periphery. She tensed, her body wanted to spring on him in the least sensual way possible (Alan o_o ).

Two, make sure Howard does not kill. Howard did not realize it. Why she made him suffer. Why she had such an unsavory interest in him. She was not as delusional as the other students here in Hogwarts. She knew how little people truly felt. She felt even less. Howard, on the other hand, felt deeply and intensely. For his mother. That moment he tried to defeat her with the power of love as if she was some foul demon that could be exorcised with a few drops of holy water. It gave her something to cling to. Something that she prattled on about to the crones who took a quiet interest in the Hufflepuff. Time and circumstance would turn Howie into Howard.

She would deny the impulse to chase the rabbit around the track like a greyhound. Thomas would flee, perhaps he would not even see it. The living darkness, it was familiar yet different. Auntie Petunia had such power, the darkness was imposing and dangerous but when it was on his side he felt safe. His security was relative, this did not feel safe. Yet the darkness was not something that was good or bad, at least from the perspective of a boy left to live with the mer hags. His knowledge of them, their inner workings was limited. they seemed to be consolidating a force. There were faces, older than him that came and went. Few seemed entirely human, most older than him by a least a handful of years. What he did know however was that to be stronger, he needed to control such resources. To have such reach. To be able to survive such perils. To be the danger.

She would stay until she saw what Howard did with the shirt. Her stomach churned as he twisted the rags of the soaked button-down shirt and a stream of blood was wrung from the the destroyed cloth and consumed by the ravenous dhampir. That was some messed up shit and she would pale at the sight. Yes, she was aware of what he was. The pallid, gaunt features and the inhuman gaze coupled with the thick, rough claws made his condition obvious. Knowing was not comprehending, accepting or understanding. She would feel the bitter bile crawl up the back of her neck and she would force the gall back down.

She would not run, but she would not stay. Her back to the scene, she would hear Howard make his promise to the crone. Leave him to me. I’ll make sure he complies.

The hag was pleased, a cruel smile from ear to ear. "I know you will," she would wait for Erin to leave. At least not lingering quite so near, she stayed near enough to hear Howard scream but there would be no cry for help. Howard was in a different sort of peril, the one that risks his soul from ever knowing paradise if one believes such nonsense. "But now that I have you on your own, there is a teensy little thing you might wish to consider," her left hand raised and her index touched her thumb. For the boy that wishes to 'become strong' to 'make hi own path' and 'choose his own destiny.'

"There is a friend you might wish to make."

Friendship is the best ship, at least here in Hogwarts. "The medical wing holds a number of secrets here in this school that you might wish to explore. After all, the former Potions Professor was pushed out for a reason." no order. No request. Just a nudge in the right direction.