#periculumplot

[narusetami]

25.04.15 ( day six )

Yesterday, things had been strange. Things had been different. There had always been three present when they question her; the ringleader, Cam, and the anonymous third party who kept her steady; but yesterday there had been four. The allusive Tor had joined them. They’d spoke about him a few times, as though he was the key to everything and perhaps he was, yesterday he’d done a very good job of showing off his unusual talent.

“You should feed her something more substantial, her thoughts are all over the place.”

He’d said that and it had confused her until throughout the questioning he’d spoke aloud the things that came to mind, reciting her fleeting thoughts to the room. When she was angry he spoke of it, when she only had the energy to hurl mental insults he recited them with a tone of boredom- he really took the fun out of it, if she were being honest. It didn’t take her long to realise he only had to look at her to see into her mind, if she concentrated she could almost feel him there, like a whisper, a niggling thought at the back of her mind she couldn’t shake. It had been odd but not so bad, the worst thing about it was realising she couldn’t control what she thought, she’d read about legilimens reading current thoughts but it wasn’t something she’d ever witnessed and definitely not something she’d dealt with.

It would’ve been impressive if it wasn’t happening to her.

But yesterday had been easier, she hadn’t been knocked around as much, having her thoughts read was hardly ideal but her head was all over the place, she doubted her monologue of insults aimed towards them was the sort of information they were hoping to get from her. So when they showed up again, all four of them, she sighed. The routine made it worse, she knew when it was coming and counting down the hours was agonising, you’d think the unknown would be worse but she hated the creeping feeling that came along when she knew enough time had passed and they’d show up again. It all felt endless and pointless, there was nothing they could get from her, she didn’t know what they thought she did but they tried to take from her still.

“Good evening, Tamiko.”

She didn’t say anything, of course.

“Now, yesterday wasn’t quite as productive as we would’ve liked, today we’re looking for a little more cooperation. Our talented friend here, is going to try a more delicate method of working with you today, it’d be to everyone’s benefit if you could be on board with this.”

“I don’t know anything you want to know, no method is going to change that.”

“I see, well we’ll soon find our, won’t we?”

Yesterday Tor hadn’t stopped pacing, he’d stop for a while on one side of her and them move across the room, pausing again as he recited something, as if he were chasing thoughts as they came or went. Today he moved to stand directly in front of her and something was different, she didn’t quite know how except it just was, there was a tension in the room that hadn’t been present yesterday and for whatever reason they were nervous. Even the man before her, he stood still but when she looked him over she noticed his hands were shaking, fingers tapping at his side in some erratic rhythm that made her gut twist.

“Let’s start with Novus, shall we?”

“Again? I told you I don’t-”

What was that?

The feeling came over her quickly, some invisible veil that draped over her thoughts and for a second everything was blank, she saw nothing but she felt panic running wild in her nerves and suddenly- pain. A quick thud, not anywhere one would notice, it was inside her head, as though something had tried to ram it’s way through her skull. It was a strange, sickly feeling, one second she couldn’t think at all and then it felt as though she had nothing but thought. Everything was her. She was in the room, trapped in one physical space, then swiftly pushed back into a place that held her even tighter captive, forced to revert into herself until all she could see was endless memories crashing into each other. It hurt like hell. There were so many walls, trapped within a space and it suffocated her but the only way out was to fall deeper and each time she did she took him with her. No- he forced his way through, clawed and dug through barricade after barricade as if scraping the scalp off her skull. She wasn’t falling, he was dragging. He was crashing through her mind, heaving her behind him to places she didn’t want him to go. She could see her whole life, her parents and her home, snippets of them distorted and warped as they tried to pass by and she could feel him grasping at them- searching for information she knew she didn’t have.

And she didn’t want him there.

In her head, digging through her life, scrutinising everything she knew and cared about.

Being drawn back into the room felt like being dropped, she hadn’t moved an inch from the chair they kept her but she jolted where she sat, her bones ached as if she’d been plucked from the space and then came crashing back down into it. Her head was spinning, stomach churning, she closed her eyes tight to stop blotches of colour taking over her vision, she didn’t want to faint and be sucked from the room again. Her breathing was heavy, her hair on end, she could feel sweat running down the back of her neck and running a trail along her spine. She was glad it was over, though she didn’t know why it had stopped, not until she opened her eyes again and found Tor kneeling down in front of her. He was gasping for air, hands gripping into his thighs as he tilted his head down at the floor. If her legs weren’t bound she might’ve kicked him in the face. Instead she found herself glaring at him, half in anger and half in confusion, she wanted her gaze to bore down through his skull so she could scoop out the innings of his mind and see all he tried to see in her.

“She doesn’t- She doesn’t know about them. They haven’t told her anything yet, there’s no use digging through endless bollocks to find nothing, it takes too much out of me.”

There was a moment of silence and then from the chair opposite her the ringleader sighed.

“I see, let’s move on then.” One of his underlings, the taller one whose knuckles were bruised from having made contact with her face countless times, stepped to the man’s side and handed him a small pile of files. He silently glanced at each of them, one at a time, before he cleared his throat. “We might as well get some use out of you, you’re not entirely barren of information after all. Do these names seem familiar to you, Tamiko: Dahlia Chen, Piper Oliver, Ares Kane and, we can’t forget about the mutt, Bellamy Adler.”

What?

The files were opened and each one tossed onto the floor a foot or so away from her, close enough that should could read the names on the files. There was no denying what she’d not wanted to think about, that these people knew about more than just her, that they had access to information that put other people like her in danger.

She fell away from reality quickly this time, more aware of what was happening to her, finding that when she was consumed by the darkness of her own mind she didn’t feel the same as she did before, if anything she was more frightened. Of what she might know, of what they might find, how much information she’d tucked away in the back of her mind and not cared to think about until suddenly it might be on display to this invader. It was strange how she couldn’t see him, she could feel him though, a looming presence in her mind that began to stir a gnawing pain under the surface of her skull. This time was different too, he knew what he was looking for and when he dug he didn’t have to dig for long, tapping into recent memories that bubbled up about her and left echoes in her mind. Scenes overlapped and replayed in her head over and over again, those first interactions when passing conversations had left her with an undeniable knowing, the vibration of energy that ran through her nerves when she met more of her own kind. She could feel him latching onto it, reading the memories over and over, each time they threatened to be swallowed up in the mass they were dragged forward again and somewhere distant she heard voices.

“It’s as we’ve always suspected, they can sense each other- the boy too, they know their own kind through some kind of energy reading.”

No.

That wasn’t there’s to know.

She panicked, physically lurched back in her seat- she felt the ache in her muscles when she strained against her binds- and then she tugged mentally. The memory resurfaced and as soon as it did with whatever strength she had she slammed it back down, it sunk away from her and she could feel it slipping, getting lost in the maze of her mind... then he growled, she heard it far away, pain burst into her head and set her body rigid. It was unbelievably sharp, like a knife through her brain, cutting deep where she tried to bury things down and yanking them back to the surface. His presence loomed over her, perhaps not physically but the energy he gave off was impossible to ignore, it bore down on her and made her want to vomit.

“The Oliver girl, she hides what she is. The boy too. Sneaky brats, it’s not surprising.”

Stop it.

“The dog’s a difficult one, she doesn’t know much, she can’t sense him like others of her own kind. Her knowledge is limited.”

“As we expected.”

He was holding on tight to the memories, she could almost feel the physical grasp around them, it made her mind scream to have them held in place when she was trying to pull them away, trying to let them go and keep them buried. This information, the things she knew or things she thought, weren’t for anyone else and certainly not them.

“She- She’s resisting.”

He sounded panicked. Exhausted. She remembered how he’d been brought to his knees, in a gasping mess, when he tried to seek information from her mind and how nervous they’d all been before hand. He wasn’t good at this, she realised, he didn’t have the calm superiority of the previous day when he’d read fleeting thoughts.

“Get whatever you can today, there’s more time.”

“I won’t be able to do this again so you’d better take notes.”

Her head was spinning. She was really going to pass out. The intrusion into her thoughts was unnatural, her mind was a place just for her yet he clawed his way into it, broke down the walls she tried to put up. Things moved so quickly this time it was like whiplash, a clash of memories and thoughts pulled together, she couldn’t make any senses of them. Her family. Her home. The office in London. Hogsmeade. The castle grounds. Inside the walls. Overviews of her clubs, of her classes. Dahlia. Piper. Ares. Bellamy.

“The Adler family have history, connections, the other families are all but useless. At least from what she knows.”

She was glad now that she wasn’t so close to any of them. Glad that when whispers of Bellamy went through the halls she rolled her eyes and didn’t bother to seek him out and ask for the truth of it. Glad that Ares didn’t speak much about what they were, let it be left unspoken, glad she didn’t force her curiosity and want for more. Glad, perhaps even just a little, that Piper’s want to remain hidden had so often felt like a barrier Tami couldn’t cross. Glad that Dahlia was new to her still. And for the first time she was glad she knew little of her gifts, was unable to understand them and refused to use them, decided long ago to shut them out and get by differently, glad she had always been a little bit scared of what she could do.

Because she was tired, this was exhausting her, the physical energy it took to try and push him back when he sought more information. She was glad he couldn’t keep this up much longer, she couldn’t either.

It didn’t come fast enough though.

Her mind was a mess, by the time she noticed the forming attachments it was too late. She didn’t know much about any of the people she spoke of but that didn’t matter, when she thought of any of them at all she couldn’t help the whispers that surrounded them. Sometimes the most important things were the ones that felt like nothing.

“These might come in handy, I hope you have a pen. Loxley Blair. Grant Abergel...”

Wait.

“Niles Morandi. Meredith Halliwell...”

No, stop.

She might have spoke aloud that time, or maybe not, she couldn’t tell. It didn’t matter. She felt it and she thought it, she hoped she’d screamed it. It hurt, her wrists and her legs, the binds were cutting into her and even lost in her mind she could feel it burning at her skin.

“Soledad Arch-”

“STOP IT!”

She did scream that time, her lungs ached with it, and her thoughts screamed with her. She had been angry before but not like this, this was something new and it ripped at her chest, made her heart hurt and hands shake. She was done with the grip he decided he had on her, tired of not being in control of anything that happened, claws clung into the memories she wanted to bury deep and if she needed to she’d tear them out of her. If someone could split their skull, pull it apart, yet still survive she was sure this is what it would feel like. He did have a hold on her and it was a strong one, she could feel him in her head, twisted into her thoughts but she was done with that. She’d needed to be angry, she’d needed to truly hate him that much, otherwise she wasn’t sure if she’d find the strength to slam him out. For a moment she wasn’t even sure she had, she could still feel her mind muddled, but she was back in the room. It was spinning, her whole body shaking, there was a ringing in her ears that wouldn’t go away. Just enough though, it had been just enough, he wasn’t just knelt this time he’d stumbled back and was gasping for air as if she’d winded him, gripping either side of his head and cursing. She hoped she’d hurt him because he’d hurt her, not just because he’d pushed his way inside her mind and dug through her memories, but because he’d pulled pieces of her life apart and singled out the people she cared about the most. It had taken a lot out of her, almost everything. She shut her eyes tight but it didn’t change the fact that at some point she’d began crying, tears were still hot on her cheeks and streaming down her face, sweat clung to her and made her shiver. There was blood in her mouth, the taste made her gag, it streamed from her nose over her lips and down her chin with no sign of stopping.

But they ran to his aid, of course. She heard the scuffled as they dragged him from the room, his legs dragging across the floor, Tami wasn’t sure what she’d done but if he wasn’t practised in this kind of thing it was his own fault for trying to invade her mind.

She thought she was alone until she heard the last remaining person stand, she could’ve sworn she could see the smug look on his face when he spoke.

“Interesting.”

The door slammed shut, trapping her in again, truly alone once more. She had been hurt a lot in the past... she wasn’t even sure any more, time felt different here, her attempts to keep it had fallen behind. Her face was swollen, she was bruised and achy, the skin on her wrists and ankles worn away by her binds. Tami had never been hurt before, not anything like this, but up until this point none of it had broken her. Now she couldn’t help it, tears were streaming and her lip quivered, despite her best efforts it didn’t take long before she was sobbing. She couldn’t do this any more, she wasn’t strong enough to keep this up, a difficult truth but one there was no choice but to accept. If she didn’t get out of there, if she didn’t do something, they’d wear her down until there was nothing left.

[meredith-halliwell]

To my lovely Meredith,

 I hope you are doing well my dear. After everything that has happened in the past year I have been uneasy. I keep telling my sister that she needs to lay low. An auror is no position for her right now when veelas are being so obviously targeted. Perhaps you can talk some sense into her, but for now I want you to remain as safe as possible. I have a bad feeling. I just cannot believe that Mr. Dufort managed the murder at Hogwarts all on his own. If that person managed to get on and off campus without being noticed then they are still a threat. I do not know who this person is or if they even truly exist, but I just have a bad feeling. You are a smart girl, get it from me of course, but you still need to be cautious. If anything for your parents. They love you so dearly and even if you are not blood you are still connected to veelas. Who knows who these bastards will target next, but we must be ready for them. I will remain vigilant here in France, but you and your family must do the same across the water. I miss you my little bird. Come visit me as soon as you can.

             Love, your dear aunt Marie

[theliongrant]

Round Up The Usual Suspects

Grant enjoyed Muggle Arts Club. Having time every week, away from Bellamy, away from most people, to sit back and appreciate the finer things calmed him down. They were watching an old black and white film called Casablanca that day, powered by a spell that moved the reel around, projecting the characters on the screen. Casablanca was about action and secrets and difficult decisions, but most of all, it was about passion.

 Eventually the film ended, and Grant gave a happy sigh, putting his bag up on his shoulder and pushing himself to stand, leaving Professor Sauvage’s class for the evening. 

He only got to the end of the hallway when he realised that he’d left his sweater behind- he’d spent months making it, Grant didn’t want it to be left behind or swept away by some eager house elves.

Grant turned on his heel and padded back to the classroom, sure not to run because he would almost certainly trip.

He was about to turn into the classroom when he heard Professor Sauvage’s voice cut across the relative silence: “Why don’t we cut the small talk, Rowland, and get to the real point of your visit.” He said something else, but Grant was preoccupied with the difficulty it took to stop him from choking. The whole situation made him anxious. He couldn’t enter in case he was breaching a private conversation and he couldn’t walk away in case they heard him. He froze, heart racing.

Professor Foley spoke in response. “I apologise for that, I thought it best you take over the class without my input, if you needed something I was sure you’d seek me out. But you’re right, I’m not here to talk about my job, I’ve heard you’re doing a good job on that side of things.”

Professor Sauvage did not seem... Pleased. Neither of them did. His temporary professor said tersely, “That side of things?”

“Yes, assuming you’re not only here to teach my class.”

"Presumptuous though not entirely wrong. What would you like me to say, Rowland? You should know better than most that I can’t release information to outsiders, the only reason we’re talking at all is because, since your release, you’ve not been my concern.” Grant was pressed against the wall, frozen in fear, his knees practically buckling underneath him as he slid to sit on the floor, arms wrapped around his stomach.

“So you were sent here, originally, to keep an eye on me?”

"So to speak. You were arrested, it couldn’t be said for sure whether or not you were guilty at the time but it was decided someone should step in and keep an eye on things, just in case.”

Foley did not seem like he believed Professor Sauvage, and after a pause, said, “But I’m no longer your concern?”

A sigh. “Let’s not play games, I knew within a few days of my arrival that you weren’t the one involved in the incident, I investigated not only here but in your private quarters and, of course, the crime scene itself. Aurors are not the be all and end all in the detective department.”

“So you knew it was Dufort?”

“Not exactly, his scent is unfamiliar to me but it lingered, had they sent one of us in to do the job in the first place you never would’ve faced arrest.”

“Somehow I doubt that.”

“Always so suspicious, Rowland. You may struggle to see the truth but you should know we mean you no harm, Novus isn’t an organisation built on violence.”

Novus? What was Novus? Grant, who was trembling, put his hand over his mouth. He couldn’t summon Polly. She was too loud and would give him away.

“So who was it, Isane, who ripped Dufort apart?”

“That-” Professor Sauvage cut off when Grant gave a whimper, barely audible for them. Both of the professors went silent, and quickly, quicker than he could have managed alone, Grant whispered a Disillusionment Charm, silent as a mouse, and sunk back against the wall, still gripping his wand. Professor Sauvage strode forward, stuck his head out the door to look around, and then closed the door once more.

Foley continued. “You people often speak of your wisdom and control but that is far from the case and we both know it. Dufort was a guilty man but he was also the key to finding out who else took part in the crimes but rather than accept the situation was being handled someone was sent to tear him apart. People like you always say you mean no harm until it suits you and then violence becomes your greatest weapon, the moment one person gets out of line you send the dogs to-”

“Watch your tongue, Foley! You speak as though we make enemies of the world when we are the ones trying to befriend it, Novus does not condone wars between the races and we strive to make the world a better place for us all.”

“Then who killed Dufort?”

“We don’t know! The actions taken against Rapier Dufort were not authorised by the High Council, I knew nothing of the attack until you did, it has yet to be seen whether the attack came from within our own.”

“Your people have inside information, only they could’ve known when he was being moved.” The conversation was getting increasingly tense, slowly louder with every syllable.

“We weren’t the only ones, of that I’m sure, wolves of that size couldn’t so easily be taken down by two aurors and a weakened vampire. Someone else was there, they showed no mercy and if they knew where to find Dufort they must-”

“Have people within the Ministry.”

“And possible access to school records.”

“Student records. You’re here for the students?” Foley sounded like he didn’t quite believe it. 

“A handful only. First veela, now a handful of werewolves, they were all killed with calculated ease, if they got that close to the castle once then who’s to say they couldn’t get even closer next time? I cannot say for sure the incidents were connected but you saw the message yourself, Rowland: not in our schools. Whether we like it or not there are people out there who know how to hurt us, these children do not have your strength and they do not have our numbers.”

“There are more of you here?”

“No but within reach if I need them.”

“And the boy? He hasn’t noticed what you are?”

“No, I’m rather good at disguising it by now. He’s still a pup, all things considered.”

Grant’s eyes widened, his breath quickening. Werewolves. Pup. Boy. Bellamy. He could barely breathe. 

“But you’ll keep an eye on him?”

Sauvage sighed, sobered. “Yes, Rowland, on all of them.”

Grant closed his eyes, his hand still on his mouth as tears pricked in his eyes from the sheer stress of the situation. What had he just heard? Who did he... Who did he even tell about this? Bellamy. Tell Bellamy. But... But what if they found out he told?

The professors left the room, walking right past the disillusioned, distressed Gryffindor sitting right by the door. He sat there for half an hour, if only to determine that they were truly gone. Then, and only then, he cast the counter charm, letting his hand drop and giving out a panicked whimper. Where was Bellamy? He had to warn him about Professor Sauvage.

[narusetami]

19/04/15, hogsmeade

It was her birthday tomorrow. Finally. She was excited about being seventeen- not just because she could now belt Dancing Queen and truly feel as though the song was about her- and all that being seventeen would bring. She doubted she’d feel older, of course, but after half a year of studying apparition she was excited to have the freedom to apparate whenever she liked, she could learn to drive too and the trace would be gone so, to some extent, she felt as though the world was getting just a little bit bigger for her. Which was brilliant.

Her parents gifts would probably arrive by breakfast tomorrow but before that her birthday would be a day like any other, Mondays were hardly her favourite day of the week but she was more than a little determined to make her birthday a good one- maybe just a little bit because Sonder had predicted it wouldn’t be. She did rather enjoy celebrating herself on rare occasions. Hence why she was in Hogsmeade, while the elves were excellent with all things food they couldn’t be expected to make cakes for every individual student on their birthdays, and Madam Puddifoot was kind enough to take requests for those who bothered to ask or were willing to pay for the service. They were damn good too, this year Tami had requested a red velvet cake, it was a single tier with tiny white buttercream leaves decorated around the cake’s edge, and the top presented the message ‘Happy Birthday, Tami!’ in the centre, iced in a pale pink with sugar cherry blossom petals framing it. A little more elegant that last year, for she thought the situation called for it, but regardless it would taste amazing and make a wonderful breakfast.

Even on a Sunday the shop was busy, the weather was mild outside but within the shop the air was warm and filled with chatter, the atmosphere was always a little overwhelming with all the couples who flocked there. They shared cakes, sipped steaming beverages from delicate cups, gazed at each other across small tables, reached cautiously to hold hands under the table or whisper sweet nothing’s to each other as though the world outside the two of them didn’t seem to exist. It was nice, Tami thought, perhaps a little too cliche to be what she would consider actually romantic but she could see why cakes and tea drew couples in- that and the added bonus of being safely tucked away from the often crisp Scottish weather. She might’ve stayed for a while too, had some tea and spent some time in her own company, but there was homework she still had to do and a quick detour she had to take before heading back to the castle. No time for cake and tea today. So when Madam Puddifoot presented her with a plain pale pink box, with her birthday cake inside, she paid the remainder of her bill and tucked the box away in the bag she’d brought as carefully as possible before thanking and bidding the woman farewell.

It was a nice day actually, not as cold as it had been at the start of the school year, she wouldn’t need the scarf that was at the bottom of her bag, she even felt a little silly in the thick jumper and jacket she’d worn- she could’ve easily exchanged the jumper for a t-shirt and still been perfectly fine- but she was in too good a mood to dwell on such things. Instead she gently swung her bag by her side as she walked towards the edges of town, the roads always crunched more under foot when they turned from solid rock to frosted path and trees began spilling out either side of the route. Tami had always liked it, the quiet of the woods running off from Hogsmeade, the path towards the drop off where the Shrieking Shack loomed in the distance, she had laughed when she heard that people had often believed it was haunted. Tami thought it was magic. In her very first year she’d come trudging down the path and ran to where the fence stopped people from wandering too far towards the slope of the land, she’d looked across to where the Shrieking Shack stood tall, sucked in a deep breath and then screamed at it. A hearty yell, at the top of her lungs, it carried with it all of her worried for that first term of school and she’d felt as though the wind had picked up all those things and taken them to the rotting building to keep. The only thing that haunted that house were memories, people’s pain and frustration, she thought there was something awfully sad about a house carrying such a burden but it had always made her feel better to grasp the fence and shout out to it. She felt as though the Shrieking Shack could hold her pain for her, or at least feel her frustration at the world and bare some of the weight, so of course she intended to yell a lot before her birthday this year.

When the trees began to clear and the path widened a smile broke across her face and she ran the remaining distance, skidding rather than stopping at the fence, colliding right into it and letting out a shaky laugh as the wind was almost knocked out of her. She released her hold on her bag for the time being, pushing onto her tip toes and holding tight onto the fence instead, as usual the Shrieking Shack was standing in all it’s glory in the distance.

“Long time no see!”

Her voice was caught and washed away in the wind completely, lost before it had chance to echo, but she smiled all the same. It was the wind that made the Shrieking Shack shriek these days, all those rotten walls and floors, sometimes the weather was so bad that the whole thing seemed to sway as if it could blow away any second, she knew when it whistled and sang it was nothing more than the air passing through but it still made her smile wider and her hair stand on end.

“I’m going to be seventeen soon! I’m going to be better next year! I’ll make sure to be stronger and shout louder, maybe I’ll come and see you for real some time soon!”

When she said it like that, bellowed it from her lungs, she almost believed it. It was easier said than done, after everything that had happened, she wanted to truly think that things would be different this year and the world would change but waiting was taxing. People would possibly call her impatient but that wasn’t it, it just mattered a lot, when it was young people and your future- your possible children and grandchildren’s future- that seemed to be held in the hands of people who didn’t really care about it.

But she would try to change things, of course, one step at a time.

“I hope I can visit Japan this year! I hope I do well on future tests! I hope my cake is as delicious in reality as it is in my head!” The last one made her laugh, the air in her lungs was so cold and wild that it made her eyes water, her hair whipped about her face and for good measure she sucked in another breath before shouting out a proud warrior cry- a final message for the building that whistled back at her.

She settled back on the ground properly, her feet aching slightly for having been stood on her tip toes for an extended period, and her gaze lingered longingly in the distance even when her grip released from the fence. She watched the Shrieking Shack even as she lent down to grab her bag again, and sighed when she finally, and reluctantly, turn away from the drop off and back towards the path.

She only took a step before she was stilled.

“Thought so, I thought I recognised you!”

“Excuse me?”

“Tamiko Naruse, right?”

He knew her name. There was nothing wrong with that, she supposed, lots of people knew her in the town considering she’d been popping in for six years. Tami was never really shy, she struck up conversations with people all the time, liked to chime in on hot topics and spread information about one of her many causes. She never forgot a face, but she didn’t recognise his. Couldn’t properly see his. There was a scarf wrapped around his face, pulled right up to his nose, and a hat pulled down over his eyes. He was stood where the path still had some shape and there was decent space between them, she couldn’t guarantee she’d know him from the distance even if he wore less. But he knew her, there was no denying it, someone who wasn’t sure wouldn’t be stood the way he was, oozing confidence. He was taller than her by at least a foot, hands tucked into his jacket pockets, feet apart and stance relaxed. That could be any number of people she’d run into in town, it wasn’t unusual for people to be taller than her, it wasn’t unusual for people to wrap up warm either.

Though the day was nicer.

“You are Tamiko Naruse, aren’t you?” He took a step forward then, she noticed fleetingly that the question wasn’t unknowing, he asked as if jogging her memory rather than being unsure of the actual answer. Her hair was still on end. “You’re the kid- the one who staged the protest for that Foley character?”

Oh.

“Sorry, yes, I-”

“I knew it, quite incredible, they mentioned it in the papers. I read about you.”

“Oh, it wasn’t all that impressive, it’s not as though I did it all alone, there was a lot of support so I can’t really take all the credit.”

And she hadn’t. She hadn’t taken any credit, she’d read the article when it came out, it didn’t even mention her name. That doesn’t mean anything. Anyone could ask around Hogsmeade and find out she was the one who organised things, it wasn’t anything new, she was known for this sort of thing so finding out she was connected to the protest would be easy.

Ah, her hair was still on end.

“Still, to put that together for your professor, takes some real guts to do something like that. I was very impressed, a lot of people were, it’d be great to hear more about the work you’ve done- or any future work you have ideas for- if you have time?”

She did have time, of course she did, students headed back from Hogsmeade early from time to time but it would be hours yet before the professors rounded up any stragglers and made sure everyone was back at the castle. If she didn’t arrive back at the castle now, no one would pay it any mind, a thought which occurred to her in a tangle of other thoughts and made her heart rattle against her rib cage. This was so stupid, she was just paranoid, it wasn’t as though she hadn’t talked to strangers before- though her parents had drummed ‘stranger danger’ into her head she had never been worried about talking to people. No, she’d never felt like this, she’s spent her childhood around vampires with blood under their nails and centuries behind their eyes but she’d never felt the need to run.

“That’s really nice of you but I actually can’t stay long, I have plans later so I’m expected back at school.” Was her voice steady? She couldn’t tell, she couldn’t even hear herself, just her heart thudding in her chest. If she was going to lie she’d have to do better. So she inhaled slowly and took a few confident steps forward, laughing as she did and adding lightly, “If I don’t get back soon my presence will be sorely missed.”

There, that was easy. Now she just had to walk, right past the stranger, right back down the path, right back to Hogsmeade. Maybe she could skip? It wasn’t like she wasn’t prone to occasionally skipping, skipping was faster than walking, she could just skip ahead, until she was around the bend, then she could run.

She could do it.

“That’s sweet, and it’s also what we’re counting on, right?”

She’d crossed half the space between them already but his words stilled her, not even his words but the cock of his head, the glance behind her, the rattling of fence that she could’ve passed off as wind had the soft thud of feet hitting the ground not followed. Swallowing thickly she dared a glance over her shoulder and a funny feeling came over her, it wasn’t often her heart managed to jump into her throat and drop at the same time, twisting her stomach up with nausea. She didn’t know the second stranger either, they were dressed similarly and their face hidden but somehow she just knew they were unknown to her, and she knew it didn’t matter. Her legs were jelly. She couldn’t run on jelly legs. She couldn’t do a lot of things, apparently. She couldn’t have seen this coming- except, no, maybe that wasn’t true. People told themselves that bad things couldn’t be predicted to make themselves feel better, as if somehow leaving terrible things up to fate made them less unbearable, but at some point she had known. At some point it had dawned on her, quietly but surely, that this wasn’t a situation she was just going to walk out of. She didn’t need any veela senses to have told her that, though perhaps they would’ve come in handy, maybe if she’d tapped into them more she could’ve read their intentions earlier. That wouldn’t do either, maybe that was worse, she thought back to those broken bodies at Halloween and wondered if they’d felt it all in the end. If the weight of someone else’s hatred had crushed them on the inside, causing more damage than even the outside would show.

No, she was glad she couldn’t feel it, because she needed to focus. She needed to think clearly right now, despite the nature of her people Tami had always preferred to be lead by her mind than her emotions, she prided herself on solving challenges whenever she faced them and this couldn’t be any different. She needed to get back to Hogsmeade and she needed to do it fast, she didn’t have much time and, more importantly, she didn’t have much resources. It was stupid of her not to bring her wand, her wandless magic was unpredictable at best, but all of this was very stupid. She could see that now, how silly of her it had been to walk out of town by herself, without her wand, just months after so many of her people were killed. Tami had been so very determined to not be afraid, to prove she was stronger than the things that scared her, she’d told herself if she could go beyond her comfort zone then she’d prove something to herself but all she’d done is walk right into this.

Into this with no help and no wand and-

She did have one thing.

Fuck it.

She had legs, legs she could use and she had cake. Wonderful, customised cake which was tucked in a box, in her bag, in her arms. There wasn’t time to debate so she didn’t, she sucked in a deep breath and as she did she twisted her grip into the top of her back and lifted it up over her shoulder. Her stance shifted, her arm drew back, and with as much strength as she could muster she launched the bag ahead of her. It gave her the element of surprise, even with so little of his face on show she could see the confusion twist onto the expression of the one who blocked her path, and even if he hadn’t reacted at all her legs sprung into action faster than she could think to tell them to. She couldn’t even feel them but it didn’t matter, there was space both in front of and behind her, she was counting on the idea that the newcomer behind her wouldn’t make up the space in time and the bastard who blocked her path would be distracted. And he was, she could see the instinct kicking in even if he didn’t want it to, her bag launched towards him and he automatically threw his hands up to catch it before it could smash into him- which was good. It was what she needed, only a few seconds, all she needed was his hands to be occupied for just the few seconds she was sprinting past him. And then she didn’t know, Tami had no idea if she could outrun them but she sure as hell needed a head start, she could deal with doubts much easier than impossibilities. The bag hit him before she even got close, of course, smashed into his chest and he grabbed it with both arms, the snarl he made a clear indication that he was not happy with her tactic. She honestly didn’t care, footsteps crunched behind her and even though the bag had already hit she didn’t stop, in fact as she passed she slammed right into the stranger’s side so he stumbled, and cursed, and she couldn’t help the small burst of pride in her chest because she’d disgruntled their plan.

It was short-lived.

She’d never been grabbed by the hair before but the pain was immediate. It shot through her nerves with a sharp stab, the back of her head throbbing where the grip held and pulled her head back in a burning whiplash. Perhaps she should’ve kept running, ripped her hair out if she needed to, but for half a second the pain was enough to stop her short and in that half a second an arm twisted around her front and pulled. Tami had always been short and her toes barely scraped the floor as she was yanked back, she knew because she kicked her legs in an attempt to find some ground, to find some grip, to claw her way back. She found nothing, her fingers clawed at the arm about her front but it was helpless, her legs kicked and even though she felt her heels hit behind her it did nothing. She filled her air with lungs, it was dawning on her quickly that she was very physically outnumbered, instead ready to scream for as loud and long as she could but the sound was suffocated before she even had the chance to make it. Gloved fingers pressed down on her tongue when a hand covered her mouth, she tried to suck in a breath but choked instead, wheezing and turning her attention from the arm holding her up to the hand stopping her from crying out. They’d done this before. They knew how to keep someone quiet, they knew how to drag someone away, they knew how to hide someone until the moment was right and then she’d end up another body, stumbled upon when it was far too late. Panic was a horrible thing, it twisted so deep in her gut she wanted to throw up, made her thoughts scream so loud that she couldn’t think. And that was bad. She was flailing and, more importantly, she was failing.

She didn’t want to die like this.

Her legs were useless, her clawing fingers weren’t getting her anywhere, but the bastard had his gross fingers in her mouth and if she couldn’t bark then she could sure as hell bite. Tami was in no position to go easy on anyone, she steeled herself against the inevitable twang of uncertainty when it came to hurting someone else, and she bit down hard.

“Fucking little bitch.”

And he dropped her. He stumbled as he cursed, he went back a step and as he did he lifted her off the floor completely, the arm around her front pulled tighter sharply, pain shot along her spine and then she was on the floor.  He’d dropped her and she wanted to scream, wanted her legs to work, her body to move, but her legs had no feeling and she couldn’t breathe. The air had been knocked straight out of her.

“You idiot, you always make things more complicated.”

She needed to move. Needed her legs to work.

“Immobulus.”

Crap.

Even if she wanted to move she couldn’t, the fight was there but the ability was gone, time had stopped where she knelt and this wasn’t something she could just shake off. Had she had her wand, had she come prepared, then maybe she could’ve handled all of this better or at least got far enough away to get help but she’d been foolish.

“See, isn’t it easier when we all cooperate?”

She couldn’t answer even if she wanted to, she wasn’t given time, a hand covered her eyes and no sooner had her vision been covered did a mutter of a charm pull her from consciousness.

Stupid, predictable, terrible birthdays.

[narusetami]

30th December 2014; VTS PARTY

Tami had been looking forward to this for weeks. There would be a good turn out this year, her father had said, and she had to agree the party this year was bigger than the year before. It meant a lot to her, she’d been pushing tickets at school for week, trying to convince as many students as possible to pester their parents to come along and show support. People were always nervous when the Vampire Tolerance Society threw a party, she could understand that from a logical point of view, but Tami knew people just forgot that before they were vampires they were... well... they were just people too. They’d had lives, families, homes and jobs. This one thing couldn’t be left to hold them back for the rest of their immortal existence, it wasn’t fair and every year the party got a little bigger she was pleased to think more and more people were starting to see that.

Even though she was technically a guest she had spent most of the party so far casually talking to people about the organisation and what they did, she was her father’s daughter and couldn’t help herself, whenever she felt as though she could make a difference she had to do it, otherwise every day would feel like a waste. Still, after having the same conversation a dozen times she was a little tired and had excused herself from a crowd of new faces to find herself something to eat or drink- all this talking was thirsty work, she needed something to keep her going of her parents would be carrying her home. Not that that was new, she’d been to parties like this for years, when she was little it wasn’t uncommon for her parents to find her tuckered out in the corner of the room. She’d wake up the next morning tucked in bed, warm and cosy in pyjamas, proud of herself and well-rested.

She moved to the refreshment table eagerly, weaving between tables and being careful not to stand on anyone’s dresses or cloaks- everyone was impeccably dressed, some guests didn’t have the most modern sense of fashion but Tami thought it was sort of lovely to see such a blend of people in outfits from all different eras, if anything she felt rather under dressed in comparison. It was a brief thought, one that dissolved when she was faced with such a display, Honeydukes had donated all kinds of treats this year and she was quick to grab a plate and load it up with all kinds of cakes and sweets, taking a large bite from a cookie that tasted like strawberries and cream- gosh, she did love magic- and was set on scoffing the entire thing in a very unladylike fashion when she spotted a familiar face. She almost forgot her plate of food entirely as she moved along the table and when close enough smiled brightly.

“Professor Foley, you made it!”

“Tamiko,” The professor had probably heard her approaching, she realised, but he still waited until he was called to turn to her and offer a polite smile. He was dressed in fairly modern attire, she noticed, and held a glass of clear liquid carefully in one hand. She wondered what it was but squashed that curiosity when he continued, “I did, I would hardly miss it. It’s been a wonderful evening so far, I’ve yet to speak to your father though.”

“He’s always very busy,” She agreed with a sigh, though was quick to brighten as she gestured a hand to herself and laughed lightly, “I guess I’m the consolation prize, I’ve been talking people’s ears off all night and boring them, no doubt, but I’m glad you’re having a nice time, I think most people are.”

“I highly doubt you’ve bored anyone, you’re well informed and that’s a good thing.”

“Thank you, professor, I hope you’re right.”

“No need to thank me. So tell me, Tamiko, how was your Christmas? Busy I suppose? I don’t think I’ve known a Christmas where I haven’t heard your father is working hard with you by his side, did you at least take a break on Christmas Day?”

“It’s been a great holiday, very busy but we wouldn’t really have it any other way.” It wouldn’t be any kind of Christmas if they weren’t busy but it was nice, bustling would perhaps be a better word, things were non-stop and a little tiring but no days were wasted and she appreciated that. Smiling easily, thinking briefly of Christmas Day itself, she nodded, “We did take a little break, Christmas Day was peaceful enough, did all the usual dinner and exchange of gifts.”

“Is that new?”

“Hm?”

“Your pendant, I don’t believe I’ve seen you wear it before.”

It was new to her but, in fact, rather old. It was a simple design, a silver chain from her neck and from the centre hung a thin silver circle with a ‘W’ in the centre. Half the ‘W’ was gold, the other silver, her mother had a similar design etched into a ring she always wore, her grandmother supposedly had earrings that also matched. Three pieces of a set, handed down through her family for quite a few generations as far as she knew, she wasn’t exactly sure who the set was originally made for but either way she felt a strong connection to the piece. It carried a lot of history, she could feel it, and history was very important to her.

“It was my great-grandmother’s, so I’ve been told. So it is new, to me, but it’s actually rather old, it’s been in my family for a long time.”

“I see,” The professor gave a small nod. “A ‘W’? Does that stand for anything in particular?”

“I’m not sure, professor. I suppose it could, that’s what I assumed, there’s three pieces to the set so I think they must have all belonged to one person at one point but they’ve been passed down again and again, we’ve sort of lost track.” Tami sighed, unconsciously twiddling the pendant between her fingers. It could stand for a lot of names really, they’d have to go back into her mother’s ancestry to find out where they started but her parents didn’t talk about Japan too much but that, no doubt, would be the best place to track information on her family down. “Maybe I’ll have to look into it?"

“Yes, perhaps you should. Will you excuse me, Tamiko?”

“Oh... Sure, of course! Have a nice evening, professor.”

Something was wrong. Tami couldn’t put her finger on it but she just knew it, something had felt off since her conversation with Professor Foley but she couldn’t think why. He’d been polite as ever, as a teacher he’d always been kind to spare her a few seconds of time when they bumped into each other at these things, they kept talk light- despite how curious she was about his life, about how he’d impacted the organisation with his struggle, how much he’d accomplished and what that meant to him- and nothing said in those brief moments together had been out of the ordinary. It wasn’t even what he said, that she was sure of, it was something else. Something she was missing.

It was like a riddle, the answer on the tip of her tongue, when she realised what it was it would seem so ridiculously obvious and she’d likely laugh about it, feel stupid for having not noticed it earlier, it would all come together like perfect puzzle pieces and how silly she would feel for letting this doubt linger over her for so long.

She took a sip of the glass of water she’d fetched herself, lingering by the refreshment table though her eyes wandered the crowd, not looking for anyone or anything in particular, simply trying to keep her gaze moving while she thought so she didn’t end up staring blankly in one direction until this feeling blew over. That was the last thing she needed, to blink herself out of some trance to realise she’d been staring at some important member of the organisation and made them uncomfortable at their own event, which had taken weeks upon weeks of very meticulous-

And then it clicked.

Dead ahead, she caught sight of a gorgeously dressed woman. She wore a modern gown, deep purple wrapped around her frame and clung tightly, highlighting every lovely aspect of her frame while a slit in the material gave subtle glimpses of a pale thigh. Her hair was gathered up and pinned carefully so delicate curls tickled at the back of her neck and, from what Tami could tell, framed a face that would no doubt be as lovely as the rest of her. It was the neck she saw though, a beautiful and slender neck, and at the very nape- just under the fallen curls- was a delicately imprinted ‘W’ in clear black ink.

It could mean anything, she told herself, a single letter could stand for millions of things.

But then there was another. A man to her left, silver cuff-links with ‘W’s’ cut into them. A woman to her right, a golden ‘W’ charm hanging off a bracelet. They were everywhere. Not on everyone, but when she was actually looking for them she could see them printed on various people throughout the crowd; on rings, on pendants, inked into a person’s wrist, inked behind a person’s ear, there was even one clear on the ankle of Songs Eternal’s front-woman. In a room of what must have been over a hundred people, close to a dozen had the same letter somewhere on their person, too many to just be a coincidence. Too many people and she was one of them, she’d absentmindedly brought a hand up to fiddle with her own pendant again but noticing now she was quick to drop her hand away and take a large gulp of water.

In her family for generations, her mother had told her, but apparently not just her family.

What exactly did it mean?

The professor’s question played back in her mind: A ‘W’? Does that stand for anything in particular?

She didn’t know, but she had a feeling that Professor Foley definitely did.

[theliongrant]

The Pains of Growing

Grant had been working towards attending this event for the whole summer. Soon after term ended, Bellamy had told Grant about the Witch Weekly Festival- an exclusive event, you had to be invited or a guest of someone invited just to know where the portkey was. When Grant had read the pamphlet, he’d almost passed out from excitement. Two days of stalls from all over the country, skincare and pampering tents, demonstrations, music, raffles, giveaways… And the second day! The second day sounded even better. All of the biggest names in music were going to be there.

After the excitement wore off enough for him to really think about it, Grant realised how… Impossible attending such an event seemed. He’d been to Diagon Alley only once, and even then the sounds and sights and people felt like it was crushing him. Only Tami’s soothing presence helped him through that. He was so excited about the idea of going to this festival. But with how many people would be there, plus a fireworks display… It just seemed unrealistic.

Ever the stubborn Slytherin, Bellamy wasn’t going to take ‘no’ for an answer. He spent the entire summer working in collaboration with Grant, Polly, some Muggle medicines and Grant’s parents to slowly acclimate Grant to larger crowds and spaces.

By the time the last weekend of the summer had arrived, Grant was asking to go to the shops to buy a nice outfit for the festival. His Mum had nearly fallen out of her chair.

Grant used the portkey all by himself to get to the festival grounds, hidden away in the Lake District and surrounded by wards and spells to keep Muggles away. Immediately on arrival, Grant was given a goodie bag filled with treats and samples, which folded neatly into a purse that could fit in one’s pocket, and an outline of the events for the day. He ended up  planning his whole day out meticulously, down to the minute.

First up was attending a Love Potion demonstration. Grant had always been curious about them, and he’d skipped Potions when they covered it in class, so he really was impressed. They passed around a vial of Amortentia, and to Grant, it smelled like the gentle smoke of a warm fire, of dust blown off from old pages, and… Sweat. It confused him at first, but then he remembered just how hot and bothered he got after Bellamy got back from a long practice. Grant grinned to himself for pretty much the whole demonstration.

Next, he tried some delicious sodas, brought in from America just for the event. The grapefruit one was so yummy that Grant bought another one to sip throughout the day.

He had his palm read after that. The woman who read his palm was all sorts of lovely, with frizzy, long blonde hair that she held out of her face with a scarf. Grant had always been a bit nervous about Divination given how much Professor Trelawney scared him, but this woman gave him nothing but good, warm feelings. According to his palm, Grant was going to have a long life, with a strong, healthy relationship. He would know pain and loss, but apparently the other lines on his hand made up for that. Grant found it all rather fascinating and gave the lovely woman a nice, warm hug.

He made some friends at a pampering station, sitting in an enchanted chair while someone massaged his feet, his jeans rolled up his legs. Grant knew now why his Mum went to the nail salon every other week- this was pure luxury. Halfway through falling asleep in the chair, Grant resolved to go and get a pedicure with Bellamy as often as he could. Maybe they could help Bellamy with stress.

Eventually the sun set and Grant was exhausted. He sat with his newfound friends in front of a music tent, picking at the last of his dinner- which had been served to him on the most beautiful plate that was actually edible. Environmentally-friendly spells were apparently the trend of the year. They were waiting for a fireworks display to start. Grant smiled to himself, completely content and happy. He leaned back, looking up at a flagpole nearby, where Polly sat. She wasn’t close by, but she was keeping an eye out. Just in case.

Grant closed his eyes and gave a happy sigh.

And then the screaming started.

And it didn’t. Stop.

Grant was pushed to his feet when the girls around him stood- some of them apparated immediately upon looking in the direction of the screams, which seemed to come from the forest next to the festival grounds. Grant couldn’t see anything, really. People were running in his direction and pushing and there was just so much screaming.

He frowned, turning to follow in the direction the crowd was running, when he heard another sound, louder than the screams. A howl. Grant’s blood ran cold, and he felt as though his stomach was rising up, pushing out his throat. Not again. Not again, not again.

Grant managed to push himself to run with the others. Where was the Portkey? There was so much going on that he didn’t remember what direction he came in from, let alone the Portkey location. He just ran. As fast as he could, as far as he could. He couldn’t differentiate the sound of his own feet touching the floor and the blood pumping through his body, echoing in his ears.

Then, another sound. A growl.

The wind was pushed out of Grant as he was knocked to the ground. The force of whatever hit him felt like a ten tonne truck. Perhaps an elephant had knocked him down.

And then the pain. The wolf atop Grant had him pinned, and tore down his side with its teeth. Grant cried out, immediately trying to curl up to stop the pain, but the wolf had already moved on, launching on to its next victim. Ripping into them.

On his side, Grant could see more of the carnage. Not many people were running now. Through blurred vision, Grant could see wolves. So many of them. More than he could count. Some of them ripped further into their victims, some of them dragged screaming girls into the forest.

He trembled, feeling as though his body had been dunked into ice cold water. Grant trembled, wanting desperately to get up, to get away, but he couldn’t move. He was stuck there.

Panic set in when he realised this, his breaths quickening, eyes widening. No. He had to get up. Had to get up or- or- or bad things would happen. Breathe in and out. In. Out. In. Out. He managed to curl his fingers around the grass, warm and sticky from… Blood. Was it his own? Probably. Probably.

The festival grounds were starting to get quiet now. The occasional cry out for help. Sometimes another whimper. Not Grant though. He couldn’t manage it. He could breathe in. And out. In, and out.

He could feel the warmth of the evening summer air. He could feel the air swirling through his body, with nowhere to go. And he could feel himself slip further and further into the earth, pulling him down peacefully, as if he were sinking below the grass and earth. In. In. In. And then, nothing.