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Today had been a divisive day for Erin emotionally speaking. Well, it was the lack of emotion truly. She was for the most part numb, bereft of both happiness and sorrow for those mourning her position enviable and for those commemorating a happy success or affair her position piteous. 

She did not belong here, in muggle Manchester with the street lamps lighting just now as the sky started to darken. Just a mere child walking down these cobbled streets at dusk without escort. She did not seem bothered by this fact but she did seem out of place. There was something off-putting about the pre-teen with dark indigo tresses that in the waning light appeared black. She was well-dressed in attire that did not seem appropriate for the era, too old. Too conservative, at least for girls these days. Well girls with daddy issues. She did not care enough about her daddy to need to find another.



There were a number of events, all of which unfortunate that had brought her to this place. Erin was of course far from a victim in this. Thankfully her time home was short-lived, her parents not a bit crestfallen that it was time for her to leave. Admittedly, neither was she. Home was a unique place, muted shades of grey and beige, even blander than the thought process' of her roommates in her dormitory in Slytherin. She knew puddles deeper than those girls. 

That was the problem with people, almost everything about their lives was feigned, the product of routine, not thought and almost never heart. Her first year in Hogwarts was a unique and an enlightening experience. Magic was an act of passion, something she ultimately lacked. Yet she was an expert emulator, in both uses of the meaning. She was capable of stealing what they felt, that dying candle of empathy, rage, disquiet, and fear. 

Yes, she had heard of others. Happiness and love but myths such as these were lost to her, she had never felt such from anyone but she had heard the word a number of times. People were liars more often than not, something she learned early. Love was merely a misplaced sense of lust, a sense of contentment and safety, a perpetual tolerance of another in its purest form. Happiness, often the lack of despondency and the understanding that they were in a beneficial situation. Yet rage and fear and sadness... those sentiments were often true, sometimes hidden beneath a cool exterior. Sometimes released with an unbridled wrath. Both of which fascinating, at least to someone to felt nothing but took anything.

So what was she doing in Manchester?

She was hunting.

Simply put, she was born this way… 'Born' how? Through some wretched womb, born of carnal instinct that pervades, precludes and perseveres. The need to fulfill what lacks and here is where she might find it. Some might consider it madness that drove her and they would not be wrong, the girl was quite demented but one could suppose that it was a condition of her existence. Yet she put on a fairly mundane face, that of a child because she was a child even if she did not think like one. She was more a predator than a youth and just now she saw her quarry.

A relatively handsome acceptable male youth, she assumed muggle of course. There was no need to hunt a magical target and risk death, dismemberment or defeat. There would be plenty of that in the halls of Hogwarts this coming year, she had been practicing and she had been learning. This year was going to be different.

Insert Howard  White, not that she knew his name. He was, well doing something. she did not really care what, he was not going to be doing that any longer. "Hi..." Erin called out, her hand raised slightly as if she was uncertain, nervous, perhaps a bit scared. She had seen the pose a number of times with these emotionally stunted youths in Hogwarts. "Hey... uh..." she glanced around as if she was uncertain bit she was looking for witnesses. "Do you know where we are, I seem to be lost." She was not lost, of course, she knew the area well enough to do what she needed despite the fact that she was not a local. 

Take some kid, some do-gooder with less than wholesome thoughts they would never admit down an alley, into an isolated corner. Peel back the layers. See what is writhing beneath. That was the plan at the very least, of course this would be different. This time we had a protagonist. if Howard knew it or not.  

"I am not from around here," She would make her way closer to Howard as she played the role of this distressed youth that had lost her way. As she made her way closer she would stop in her tracks, her eyes would widen. She was for a moment at a loss for words, had she seen him before? She searched her memory for that face, he was not much of a standout despite the fact that their paths had crossed before. She was the girl that set off Charles York at the ball, he was there also. Well crap. It looked like the school year was going to start early. 

"Actually, never mind," she announced with an apparent change of direction. "I do not think we have formally met despite the fact that we have been in the same place at the same time before. My name is Erin. I believe we go to school together." A wizard-boy among muggles, how scandalous, at least to the pure-blood. How did this go again, upward motion with the sides of the lips, just a bit -- too much and one looks maniacal. Keep the eyes open, the brows neutral. A 'positive' expression. "What house are you again?" She really could not place his face well enough to remember the blazer, scarf or tie he donned.  

"You should take a walk with me," she would add his name if he shared it otherwise she was indifferent enough as to continue on with this masquerade for a little while at the very least. "It is getting dark, you know as well as I that the lore is closer to the truth than either of us are comfortable admitting." 

Howie walked quickly down the streets of Manchester, making his way back to where he had locked up his bicycle. He was dressed in his usual garb of olive green cargo shorts and white tee, his long, dark and wavy hair was pinned under a tattered red Manchester United baseball cap turned backwards. Yes, unusual to sport a football club on a baseball cap, but he preferred the style. Sent out that day to purchase some supplies for his parents shop, he had lost track of time as usual and was rushing back. The hour was growing late, the street lamps popping on all around him, illuminating the cobbled roads with thier dull yellow light as the sky began to darken. 

Howie approached the bike rack, slinging his worn backpack across his shoulders and onto the seat of his bicycle. Rummaging through it he double checked that he had all of the ingredients from the list his parents had given him. Whole wheat flour...check...instant yeast...check...tri colored peppercorns... His hand slid across a smooth piece of wood, the wand he had grown accustomed to carrying with him everywhere. Howie was strictly forbidden from performing magic outside of school, except for the most extreme circumstances, but he had not broken the habit of keeping it on his person at all times. His first year at Hogwarts had drilled that into his head. He tucked it back away into the interior pocket of his pack.

Satisfied that his task was complete he zipped up his bag and slung it back around his shoulders. Looking up he spotted something out of place. A young girl, probably his age, donning a peculiar dress. Had Victorian goth come into fashion in the time he had been away? His head turned to the side as he gave her a quizzical look. She held up her hand in an awkward greeting, a somewhat forced looking smile across her face. A face that seemed somewhat familiar. Pretty in a way, but void of emotion, her dark eyes filled him with unease. She spoke to him. First asking for direction, seemingly lost amongst the streets of his home city. Howie couldn’t shake the sense that he had met or at least seen this girl before as she stepped closer. Abruptly she stopped her plea for help, her eyes widening. Was it recognition as well.

"I do not think we have formally met despite the fact that we have been in the same place at the same time before. My name is Erin. I believe we go to school together." "What house are you again?"

“Oh! No way!” Howie clapped his hands together as he realized where he knew her from. Suddenly her attire made sense. The magic community tended to favor everything old. The excitement of meeting another magic user outside of school instantly washed away the unease he had felt before, a smile splitting across his face. He was sure that he would be completely cut off from the magical world during the summer break, going home to his muggle parents and without any funds to go and visit the few friends he had made. Howie quickly looked around to see if anyone could overhear thier conversation. In a hushed voice he said, “The name’s Howard, but you can call me Howie. I thought I recognized you from somewhere. I’m in Hufflepuff. Never thought I’d run into...you know...one of us.” He extended his hand to finalize the introduction.

Erin suggested that they take a stroll together. He really should be getting home, but a chance to have a conversation with one of his own was too great a pull. “Ok. Sure, let’s go. Are you trying to get anywhere in particular?” He gestured around him.

"It is getting dark, you know as well as I that the lore is closer to the truth than either of us are comfortable admitting."  

Howie stared at the girl with a puzzled look. “Huh?”

OC: Sorry my work unexpectedly commandeered more time than anticipated this past week.

IC:

Humans, well Muggles were a curious lot. They depended on strange devices in place of magic, their reliance on winding gears and electrical current terrified her. It was a sort of magic she could not hope to understand but she envied in a way. The street lamps turned on at dusk, they somehow knew that darkness was approaching but as she passed under the light the glass globe would shatter and sharks would erupt from the fixture.

Technology often malfunctions in the presence of magic. It was one of the many reasons why wizards and muggles were forced to take different paths. It was what made the both of them so dangerous to the other. She did not care for muggles, she saw them as a backwards people uneducated but entertaining. What they lacked in understanding they made up for in emotion which was something she craved, something she was starved for. Muggles not only felt in abundance but they hardly realized how much energy they extended when they expressed themselves. Science was without passion, unlike magic which necessitated something deeper. 

That was why she was here, to take what she needed from the unsuspecting populous.  She closed her eyes and breathed in the air. The lack of spicy herb here, a trademark of magical households and also Hogwarts as potions are often brewed and it gave the air a sometimes sweet but often pungent scent. She was dressed oddly but this was what she had been given, Muggle fashion was at its height only in the Muggle world which she was not a part of. Her clothes were finer than those bought in the stores. They did not have nonsensical words like "Juicy" written across the derriere or "Sweet" across the chest. Prints of giant cat faces or strange words that had meaning to someone somewhere but none to her such as Nike with a runic symbol. They were the odd ones, not her.

Tap... Tap... Tap...

Her Mary-janes would click against the cobbled road as she approached Howard. He was simply her meal; that sounded dramatic, as if she was about to rip her prey apart and devour her flesh. That was not the case, even if she was often a harbinger of pain and terror, it was a necessary evil. It was the only strong sentiment she knew how to elicit.

Then she recognized the youth, it was hard to see past those horrid muggle clothes. They were not fitted to him, it was as if he could grab one from a basket and yank it over his head or someone else's head and if they were relatively the same approximate size it would 'fit.' The poor creature could have donned a flour-sack and had had something that conformed to his figure better. The poor dear... Not that she knew how to pity the strangely garbed wizard boy.

He seemed excited, Erin looked at him with a dumbfounded expression. There were plenty of wizards in Manchester. They did not have gaudy signs announcing their heritage or vocation, their homes not massive castles in the heart of the city. Merely a few innocuous buildings here and there, 75 and ¹/₂ NorthHampton Street for instance, a door between two buildings found in a thorny bush that did not prick. 

"Why are we whispering?" Erin lowered her head and whispered in return.  The danger of being revealed was almost insignificant. "Do you think that anyone would believe we are doing anything but playing wizards even if we are overheard? Whispering is what draws suspicion." A bit of 'friendly' advice. sadly, Erin was not known to be the friendly sort. Perhaps this was an attempt. 

She looked at him with an incredulous look. "The hunt?" The inflection sounded like a question but it was a reminder. One that Howard seemed to not realize. "The mug-- hum--" she tried to find the right word in case they were overheard. "The people of Manchester... like everywhere else fear the dark, tell tales of monsters that lurk in the night. Things they cannot tangibly explain, fail to fully quantify," this would be things like the tallman tales and the boogieman. Whatever else Muggles would like to call them, their lack of recollection the fault of the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes,  specifically the Obliviators Division. "Nobody remembers encountering a dangerous magical creature."

She would gesture him to come along. They did not need to remain here, rather they would not want to shortly. "Magic creatures are sometimes drawn to magic, we should be getting out of here" she warned. The reason for that was of course because she was being 'naughty' but there was no reason to elaborate. Howard was supposed to be her last meal for the day but alas he would recognize her. "Well, at least out of direct line of sight," she corrected herself.

She did not want to go too far, the terror felt by the reckless chap these creatures find in the streets would be excellent entertainment and there was the benefit of the powerful emotions -- likely fear and a sense of self preservation that would come off them in waves. Something she was still learning to try to bottle. "Not going to go too far," she explained. Just far enough to see what is drawn. "Are there any late shops? Places to --hide?" She could have simply went to the magical estate she had arrived via floo powder but she did not want to travel so far. She would miss it.

Howie smiled as the girl approached, her shoes clacking against the cobbles, echoing around the small road. The dull light from the street lamp illuminated her face, giving Howie a clear look at the young girl. Had he been a more observant boy he might have seen the odd look in her eyes. The look of someone who had found what they were looking for, a hunger burning behind the dark orbs. However, the excitement of meeting a fellow student dulled his senses. Easy prey. She passed under the light, throwing her face back into the shadows.

Howie jumped in place, throwing his hands over his head as the light above exploded. Sparks fell around them as the glass clinked and clanked as it hit the stones of the road. “Jesus!” He exclaimed. What the heck was that. His head turned on a swivel looking for something that wasn’t there. Locking eyes with the Erin again it dawned on him. Most things Muggle tended to fail around the presence of magic, as if magic itself revolted against anything mechanical. A source of deep frustration for Howie, as he enjoyed his Muggle trinkets. 

"Why are we whispering?"

It made sense. No one would really beleive that they were witches and wizards. However random exploding street lamps would turn a head or two. The strict separation of Magic and Muggle must have made Howie a bit paranoid, and they were all strictly forbidden of performing magic outside of school, but hiding in plain sight was often a good strategy. “Make sense I suppose.” Raising his voice back to a normal level. 

"Nobody remembers encountering a dangerous magical creature."

He couldn’t help but look around again, a chill running up his back, a creepy feeling began to brew in his gut. She spoke of scary stories and tales meant to scare children, teaching them to fear the dark and strange places. Could there really be dangerous magical creatures He in Manchester? Surely the ministry would keep them out of the streets of major Muggle cities. His eyes squinted as he pondered this. The odd apparel, the wierd and slightly creepy way that she spoke, she was having a go at him! A sly smile spread across his face, an ignorant confidence lighting up his eyes. “Yeah right...magical creatures hunting here. In Manchester.” He exaggerated the last word to emphasize his disbelief. “No way.”

"Are there any late shops? Places to --hide?"

Howie rolled his eyes. 


OOC: Very Sorry about the late response. I must have over looked this in my notifications. Thought you had forgot about it. My apologies.

OC: No problem, unfortunate events have kept me away from my computer as well.

IC:

Prey was what Howard once was, when he was a muggle. You see there is a pecking order in this world as well as in their own, even if most preferred to maintain the masquerade. To cast a veil over their castes and claim that there was no better or worse, merely 'different' in this politically-correct world. Many feigned acceptance, herself included. There was a difference, a huge one between herself and Howard, it came with the purity of blood something she could simply smell on him and plainly see. Howard was, at least to a great extent still a muggle, his garb screamed this. His comfortable pose. His excitement in seeing something that resembled 'his kind.'

Howard did not belong here, he had not for a long time. Not since the moment he learned that he had some hidden, forgotten magical heritage. Likely an 'eccentric' several generations back, that was often what they called it, what they reduced them to bumbling lunatics to salve their ego and soothe their fears of that which they do not understand. She found their fear offensive.

Howard belonged with her, well not 'her' in particular but rather her kind. He was not a lowly muggle bumbling half-blind through this world and yet here he was as pleased as one of an oblivious station would be, the only difference being that he knew better. He did not belong here and in time he would realize that and a terrible part of her wanted... no, needed to see that. 

Erin was a hunter, but Howard was not the prey but rather the bystander.

But oh Howard, how Erin wanted him to be her prey. She could feel that chill run down his neck because it ran down her own and it made her toes curl inside the confines of those Mary-Janes. He was quick to feel, but anger was the second most common honest emotion she understood next to fear. She could make no such emotion on her own, she was not capable and she was not certain if she ever was. Perhaps her sterile upbringing has simply muted her senses, made her sentiments dull. She could emulate what she stole, borrowed and shared and she often did, it was how she cast but because she lacked depth she lacked the power and strength necessary to have any sense of mastery.

As quickly as the chill came, something else followed. It was a sentiment she felt on rare occasion because it was not a strong emotion, well not often strong at the very least. Confidence. Cockiness. Something had changed and while vastly opposed to what he felt mere moments earlier, he no longer felt fear. She could not change pace so quickly and she wondered if that was the muggle in him that made him so... indecisive? No, that was not the right word. Volatile? No, but closer. Capricious.

He did not have to believe her, in fact he should not. Erin was often a liar, a cheat and a scoundrel and she was in this case as well. However, she was not lying about the danger. She was the reason why they were here, magical activity does more than damage muggle technology  such as the lights overhead that burst when the same in proximity. She was simply thrumming with magic, not that she was capable of great feats but rather repetitive acts and it was hardly practice although it counted as such.

"The use of magic attracts like-creatures," Erin explained. Howard was half-muggle at least considering his garb, it was unlikely he knew better. "And magical creatures are not corralled in nice, safe farms. That would be like taking every ant from the earth and giving it a new 'home' with the assumption that none would wander back, escape or be missed." They did not have true control over the many 'magical' creatures despite the fact that wizards enjoy their ability to dominate, to force their will upon an object or being with the simple wave of a hand. She shook her head, "they are coming but I am fine watching them from here." 

Fine was a purposeful word choice, she was not safe but she lacked the ability to naturally fear. A defense mechanism truly. "Your kind" yes, apparently his kind "have been given the grace of forgetting... of never seeing... the dangerous creatures that truly lurk in the night. The media claiming sightings to be hoaxes, the damage caused the result of a natural disaster. It is a cruelty really, that false sense of security." She mused quietly as her dark eyes scanned the street.

She might have lacked the fear but she was not without sense. She understood the risk and the inherent danger of the cold she felt and the darkness. She understood them and she sought them, their existence was she yearned to understand. They often haunt places of madness, places where one leaves their maddened and frenzied calling it a haven for the mentally infirm without realizing that it was that very place that was keeping them sick. That was why she was here, she had heard rumors -- mostly garbled whispers of places called asylums. A concept below her in most regards, it was nonsensical to place your broken in a single place like the muggles did but they could not see the darkness, perhaps they never felt the cold or heard their rattling breath.

"Well, then just try to not feel," Erin warned "...and find a populated place if you don;t want to hide away." 

There is a saying regarding cats and curiosity. Muggle sayings were strange like that.

She never said the word, what was coming. She never admitted that she was the cause, even if they did not realize it. The street here only had a few wandering at this late an hour, but Howard was a non-believer and assurances were everything. "You see that there," she pointed to a building a block away. "Sad sight, to you... not to me I suppose," she admitted. It was an asylum for troubled youth, it was the sort of place that most people hastened to pace as they walked on past.

"Do you feel empathy for them? Do they?" She pointed to the pedestrian muggles, most walked on the other side of the street, going out of their way to give the simple but hardly modern building a wide breadth. "And look up there," she raised her finger to the third floor. There was something in there, a darkened image that seemed to glide past the window.

"You realize that it is looking... searching this street." She explained. They were curious, not as curious as she but curious enough. "You see, it is easier to enter an asylum than it is to exit, but thankfully somethings lack muggle restrictions." She was drawing it out, or at least trying to. "If there was a nearby safe-place, crowded area... it would have been preferable." She shrugged, "assurances are quite nice to have." But she still had them, the muggles that had wandered down this street, that were loitering as Howard was. 

She reached for her wand.

Howie’s confidence faltered slightly as her cold dark eyes showed no signs jesting. His own eyes narrowed once more as he racked his mind, trying his best to figure her out. If not to play a joke on a fellow student, what was her purpose here, and what did she want from him? The situation he found himself in was feeling less and less by chance, but more as if it had been arranged. He began to worry that he had stumbled upon someone up to no good. Howie had been sure she was trying to prank him, but now it felt more like she was trying to lure him.  

Erin continued to tell him how using magic attracts magical creatures, but neither of them had cast any spells. Could it be that just the magic that courses through thier blood was enough of a presence to draw out things of like nature? The street lamp had burst overhead in what Howie assumed was a malfunction in the presence of magic. His Muggle devices had been destroyed by the energies present at Hogwarts, but that was a school of magic, a place filled with magical beings and countless barriers and charms placed upon it. He had been back in Manchester for some time, and his presence had never caused such a disturbance. Could she possibly be casting in public? Underaged and in clear sight of Muggles. Could she possibly be that mad, trying to draw out  something dark on purpose!

Erin went on, warning that ‘they’ were approaching. Howie slid his bag down to his side, his wand tucked away in the side pocket. His hand slid over the side pouch it was concealed in. His eyes followed her pointed finger towards the large building a block away. It was an asylum for troubled youth. Howie knew of its existence but like most avoided going near it. She questioned him about it.

Of course Howie felt empathy for them, as for others, he had no way of knowing. It was a sad sight indeed. To be locked away for various mental instabilities, trapped away from the world for not fitting in to the social norms. Imprisonment instead of treatment. “Of course I feel..” His eyes followed her finger again to the third floor. It was there one moment and then gone the next. A shadowy figure seemed almost to float past the window. Again the chill ran down his spine. 

Erin gave one last warning. Whatever was in there was searching the street, and he now had no doubt that it was them that had peaked its interest. Howie slid his wand from his bag, holding it firm in his hand. Turning towards the girl he spotted that she was reaching for her’s as well. He began to slowly back away. “Erin. You need to stop.” Howie raised his wand slightly in her direction. “You’re trying to draw out whatever that is, aren’t you?” His eyes darted back and forth between her and the building. The chill was now brewing in his guts, leaving goose bumps down his arms. “You’re....you’re...you...” Howie’s words stumbled out of his mouth, his mind becoming clouded. He shook his head and blinked it away. “What is this!”

She was seeking a victim, but that was before she realized who or rather what he was. Admittedly his relevance to her was infinitesimal, but there was a tiny problem having him out here. He could see them. But Howard was a clever boy, he was catching on. 

He did not understand everything but she could see it in his eyes. His were more expressive than hers, that was a fact that she was not capable of truly appreciating beyond the learning opportunity they proposed. He was thinking, represented by the lateral, flickering movements she saw. They were not steady. 

She could not read minds but she could guess. He was not wrong either but he did not get it, not entirely. She would direct him with her finger to the third floor. It was there. Looking. Its dark, hooded figure seemed to glide across the window. There were people there as well, too distant to see. However there was no sense of panic, no frenzied movement. They did not even see it, but Howard did. 

Like a light being flicked on in a darkened room, he had an epiphany.

She could feel his revelation shake through him, it felt cold and it shot down her spine like a pick made of ice. It stung and she liked it.

“Erin. You need to stop.”

Howard backed away and drew his wand in muggle public. Erin gave Howard a wicked smile. She was nothing like the other girls in Hogwarts, they were spending their time thinking about their future wedding, the babies they would have, the cute boy that they would first kiss. Erin was a tragic exception. She could not feel love or lust even if she wanted to, she could only feel theirs and even then who could love someone that was not capable of loving them back? Love is meant to be a selfless act if you were to ask any poet but sentiments are intended to be reciprocated. 

"Stop what, Howard?" her voice calm before it took on a razor-like tone. "It is you, not I that has his wand drawn in public." She reminded him, her eyes glancing downwards. "Tsk... Tsk.."

“You’re trying to draw out whatever that is, aren’t you?”

"ME?" She let out a cruel laugh. "No... Not me, YOU."

Indeed, whatever that was could sense magic. Of course it could, Erin was a pureblood. Her lineage was so deeply entwined in magic, that it was in her blood, in her hair, on her clothes. Unlike these unwashed, pedestrian heathens in their tank tops and sneakers. 

"Fear is a reliable sentiment... it makes you passionate... reckless... a danger to yourself," she looked up towards the third floor. "And others." This was not a lesson, unlike the Professors there was no safety net here. "You don't belong here," she observed. "Your first instinct when you sense danger is to draw your wand, a liability in the hands of a novice. A danger to YOU... your family. Your muggle way of life," there was venom in the word muggle. It was like seeing a boy live among wolves, a man chosen to be considered livestock rather than a human. "What happens after you use that. IF you use it effectively. Do you honestly think you can stop me in a single act? Nobody ever considers the collateral damage," she was referring to the public. At this moment it was a boy with a stick arguing with a strangely dressed little girl. "Or what happens when they learn what you are. Do you think that you will be embraced for this skill or met with fear. The same fear you met me with. The same fear that..." she looks back at the building.

“What is this!”

If nobody was looking before, they were certainly looking now. "...got its' attention."

It was no longer in the window. In fact, where was it? It would be logical to feel concern, even trepidation. The air had taken an unseasonable chill. As Erin spoke, her words came out as audible smoke. A fog would roll in, despite it being wrong. The streetlights further down the road would flicker on and off, the one in front of the asylum first. The fog became thicker, the air colder.

The meandering muggles would notice the cold and the fog but none would notice the distant darkness, that wraith-like figure only partly obscured by the fog. She had manipulated him, forced a rise out of him. The loyal and steadfast Hufflepuff. He was not meant to be brave, nor was he meant to be wise or cunning. 

What was he to do now? The people here would not understand their predicament. They did not... could not run. He could not use his magic, doing so would result in his expulsion, a reprimand from magical society. A loss of status and potentially of life and freedom. Dangers abound, the greatest risk of all oddly enough a cruel little girl that had decided to take an interest in him. What was she going to do before she found him and this 'happy coincidence.' She would have drawn it to a foolish muggle, someone willing to entertain her game. The result would have been the same, the only difference being Howard could see their face. She could see him see their face. It was important, at least to her. To see what it looks like when they knew, when they took his joy. It was not that they did not feed on muggles, just muggles lack awareness. It explained that dejected sense some felt. That painful fatalistic sentiment. 

But it did not explain everything. No.

With her inquiring mind, why didn't the hat make her a Ravenclaw?

A terrible smile crossed her face, her cruel dark eyes flicked down to the wand in his hand. He couldn’t help but follow her gaze. There he was, brandishing a wand in public, falling right into the well laid trap. Howie squeezed it in his hand, his jaw flexing as he gritted his teeth. When the young boys eyes regained contact with hers, she would see the brightness in them. However it would not be the kind light that usually filled them, but a burning anger. 

Howie was powerless to do anything as she laid into him, her words searing into him as if she was spitting acid. Had he not been so furious his logic might have told him that she was right. A boy caught in between two worlds. Half Muggle, half Wizard.  Neither one able to coexist with the other. He could try and stop her with his magic, but doing so would destroy both of his existences. 

The chill that he felt run down his spine now emanated around him. A mysterious fog rolled in around his ankles. Breaking eye contact, Howie’s gaze was drawn down the street by her words. The lamps flickered and buzzed as a consuming darkness approached them. Through the billowing fog a dark figure could be seen, and with it a crushing sense of desperation. Howie stumbled backwards. 

Then he saw it. Just under its hood. Grey and festering skin surrounding a dark hole where a mouth should be. He could feel the terror building inside him, but with it came something else. A rush of excitement. The moment was too chaotic for the boy to fully process what he was feeling, but upon reflection the realization would be haunting. The being approaching him spelled certain doom, but at the same time it oozed with power. It changed the world around itself at will. 

Howie stood there, frozen on the spot as the wicked creature drew closer. Terribel sights and sounds flashed through his mind, leaving him disoriented. He wavered back and forth, a sudden falling sensation. Thud.

There it was, an encroaching threat. She could not fear or know the exhilaration of facing this powerful creature but she wanted it. She needed it. She needed to understand them first hand, a dangerous curiosity. Howard was angry, he wanted to unleash his mediocre arcane talent. The crimson tide had gone white and hot, he would not be able to keep control for long. 

Her words of warning -- her reminder that his entire universe would crumble if he cast with his wand here. The fact that his mind also likely screamed that there would be no world for him to have if he remained idle here. "Someday you will thank me for this," Erin commented with a cold voice. Her eyes were no longer on Howard, he was indeed a threat but not the greatest threat. "Because your hate for me is the truest thing you have felt in a long time. The fear... it changes time. It changes your strength and it gives you power." She understood fear but she could only have his, not her own much lie his anger. 

She had the same impulses as Howard, to pull her wand. That instinct to attack. She was like a mirror, a tired echo, only a shade of what it is to be human. "You stop hearing people. You just hear this noise, it is the world around you garbled and the sound of your heart in your ears. You think so hard you can hear it thunder in your head" this boom... boom... boom... "Time is slow now and oddly enough a single minute feels like several." She was watching it come closer. "Then you hear it -- a scream, or you feel it. That pain or that loss that you dreaded and then there is no more noise, just everyone else's chaos."

Fear was chaos and her voice wavered as she shared Howard's fear and loved it as much as the agony of sorrow or the searing heat of wrath. She tried to push the fear down as she savored it. It might be a long time before she felt this again. "Just like you cannot... it cannot either," she explained, her voice still shaking despite the cold rational words she chose. 








"I have nothing to share," she admitted and she was not reduced to a drooling mass. She was hollow and she had always been that way, you see she grew from a drooling mass into a child. Everything that she was, had or could have been was taken away before birth, "One of you had already taken it all." 

It would turn its attention towards the fallen. Howard, it was her magic that drew its attention but it was his passion that compelled it to leave. It would lean down, its cold fingers would reach for him, its featureless face would draw near his. This kiss would be nothing like whatever it was that he and Rosie had shared.

"He's mine," Erin would announce without moving from where she stood. She had staked her claim on the boy. The fog, a bizarre natural phenomena that seemed to follow the creature was thick around them. "The fog brings drama, obscurity. I doubt there is a fog inside there," she was referring to the asylum. "Protection here where we are not mad so none would see, because you fear something" She could not feel its fear, not like she could feel Howard's. 

"But that limitation goes both ways--" she continued. "You cannot see him or feel him, and if I move you this will become difficult." The creature before them could kill her in the blink of an eye, but the decision would be reckless and dangerous. This was a game of chicken between a student and a monster. Erin drew her wand. 

She was bluffing.

"I am quite capable." She really wasn't. Casting was her weakness because she lacked the passion necessary to cast anything of value. She depended on her durability and her physical strength to mask this deficit. Thus far nobody noticed, nobody wanted to take the risk of calling her on it.

She would kick Howard, hard with her toe. This was the worst moment to get weak in the knees and she was hardly a hero but there were some lines even Erin was not yet prepared to traverse. 

Howie’s head swam as she spoke. He saw in double vision, but not in the way one might think. The young boy looked through two different sets of eyes. One showing him the reality before him, Erin and the wicked creature. The other his darkest memories. 



Erin spoke of anger and fear. How these powerful emotions could be focused into so much more. He knew she was right, for he saw it in the vision before him. In his minds eye, Howie thrashed out at the other boy, striking him repeatedly. All the anger that had been building inside him pouring out like a volcanic eruption. The tears burned hot as they streamed down his face, the emotions overwhelming. Although some would say Howie was just defending himself, finally standing up to the long time bully, Howie knew differently. When he looked down upon the other boy, he saw it in his eyes, fear. Fear that Howie had caused. As his anger spewed forth a sense of power flowed in behind it. It terrified him how good it felt.

She spoke of a noise, and he heard it. Her words mixed with the pounding of his own heart, the repeated thwack from his memories, the sound of his own guttural cry, whether taking place now or in his memory, or both. Could she hear it too? Could she feel any of this? The noise became too much for Howie as it consumed his mind. He pressed his hands against his ears to no avail. Everything before him spun.



Howie barely felt the cold stones of the street collide with his back. He stared blankly up into the sky as Erin conversed with the creature, completely lost in his nightmare, the weight of his despair crushing him further into the ground. Tears streamed down his face as he mumbled incoherently. Then he felt it drifting away. Not just the nightmare, but everything. It must be the grey, dead hands of death that reached out for him, the Reapers hooded face just before his. Howie gave into it, closing his eyes as all of life was sucked out of him.