“Maybe we are stars apart from each other, that there's an invisible line connecting us.
I'd like to think we are together in one constellation.” - Nicola An

After sunset

@Solana Valor

March 28th, '24

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	"Peri! Wake up, Peri!" Pericles stirred at the sound of a voice, his own voice, specifically a portrait painted of him several years ago. Crouched in the frame by his bed was a soft-faced boy with few cares in the world. The now older iteration rolled over in bed, rubbing his shadowy eyes and grimacing up at the wall with a groggily slurred "What's wrong, Little Pear?" The echo of his past self sounded anxious, and he was quick to tell why, babbling "There was a strange man in the trophy room. The other portraits went to tell baba." The words worked as well as a bucket of ice water. In a blur of movement, he launched out of bed and snatched the wand from his nightstand, stumbling towards the door. When Pericles burst through the doors, the vampire was growling like a dog and hissing like a snake, claws dug into a wooden windowsill. "BASTARD. SWINE! FACE ME LIKE A MAN, OR I'LL BLEED YOU LIKE A PIG." Isaac's voice echoed out across the estate's grounds, causing the sheepdogs in the barn to all burst out barking. He wheeled around with a snarl that stopped his son in his tracks, eyes flashing in the dark like a pair of knives. The heir was incidentally bombarded by his father's terrible presence, an aura of dread that played against his psyche like a manic violin, but still managed to gasp "Dad? What happened?" Isaac, always praised for his self-control, was struggling to regain composure. A shudder ran through Pericles as his grandmother's hand closed over his shoulder. "To your room," Tamasa whispered. When he hesitated she added a stern "Quickly." As Pericles reluctantly headed up the hall, he glanced back in time to see his father with a piece of paper clenched in his fist, seething "Harrow was here. My compass is missing." Harrow... where had he heard that name? It would have taken an ingenious thief to bypass their defenses. Since the break-in nine years ago, his father had become borderline obsessed with home security. Charms prevented apparition within the manor, much like those placed on Hogwarts, and there was the family's odd schedule to take into consideration. Isaac was up all night, the portraits of their ancestors were active all day, and their trophy room was laced with alarm charms. Someone managed to not only trespass on a vampire's territory, but to steal something. They had also managed to pick out the one artefact which would piss off dad the most. He couldn't help but be sullen over getting sent away. Pericles wasn't the frightened, wide-eyed little boy in the portrait any longer, and hadn't been him for a long time. He confronted Isaac the following afternoon, demanding to help reclaim what was taken. It was his family heirloom too. He hardly put up a fight against that argument, caving as he admitted: "Harrow was my only unresolved Auror case, but long before that, we were childhood rivals. We're going to visit the one person more out for his blood than I am: his ex wife. Dress for the cold and bring your broom." Immediately after the theft, Isaac had sent a letter to Damira explaining that something of great importance had been stolen from their home, and a hint left behind implied it was Harrow's doing. A calling card indicated he had returned to the Welsh wizarding village near Ferndale. Isaac humbly requested an opportunity to speak, and when he got her prompt reply, he prepared for the trip immediately. The ghostly father and son duo would Portkey their way as close as they could, then fly the remaining distance. Their arrival was announced with knuckles rapped against the door, and when it opened, he stooped to shake the hand of whoever answered. Pericles peered past his father's shoulder with a curious frown into the goblin's home.
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