A Decent Topic Title

During his short time in a large castle full of dark secrets and powerful wizards, Thomas had failed to garner any interest in anything but grabbing a broom and flying straight into the clouds. His late father, a brief follower of you-know-who dulled his anticipation of evolving the gifts his muggle mother proclaimed he had inherited. Every corner her turned there were sneers and scowls from wizards of families with superior history. His fear of not being accepted by other students was becoming a reality, and his anger was beginning to develop into a strong distaste for anyone in his path.

The only one to talk to him aside from the teachers was a student Thomas referred to as Malcom, or M. Not by M’s choice of course, they shared the same classes and same daily route throughout the castle. One day they were stuck on one of the moving staircases, forced to work together to find their way back to class. Thomas did most of the problem solving, and M decided to befriend Thomas after he decided he was in fact not a soulless rouge like his father.

Thomas and M stood together on a revolving staircase one late afternoon after classes have concluded for the day. “Not yet, two more passes.” Thomas spoke harshly, tugging Malcom’s robes to keep him from stepping on a different staircase. “Oh… right. Sorry. I’m distracted“Thomas narrowed his piercing blue eyes at Malcom, inquiring about an explanation as to where M’s mind resided. “I overheard a story today, these Hufflepuffs I sat near in Potions… Their friend, Howie…he’s nowhere to be seen. Professors’ don’t seem concerned, they say he’ll turn up. One of ‘em said it’s Erin…or Ervaporate as they called her. She makes people disappear. Not literally I don’t think, but she’s in OUR house.” Thomas looked away from Malcom, staring at the various moving paintings on the walls. “That sounds nice actually, disappearing.”

On the way to the Slytherin common room, Thomas peered into the library. He was never one to pick up a book back home. His athletic past as an ice hockey player in New Romney geared him towards physical activity more so than sitting in a dark room with a handful of scrolls. Paired with his handful of negative student interactions, he tried to keep his distance from any populated area. This time the library appeared nearly empty, he decided now was the best time to research some of the topics for his classes. “I’ll catch up with you, M.”

After grabbing a few books, Thomas took a seat at the far end of a long table. One other girl sat several chairs down. He had to double take at her attire, briefly looking down to scan his basic black robes. Is that…permittable? Thomas shrugged the thought, attempting to read up on basic defensive spells for first years.

Only a few moments passed before a book flopped down only inches in front of what he was reading. He swiftly looked up to find a pair of intense grey eyes staring directly into his soul. Thomas froze when they locked, he gave his best attempt to hold her stare, hiding his fear. Her message to come to her did not appeal to the boy. He broke her stare, looking around to confirm it was only the two of them in the library. Was it a set-up? Were a bunch of students going to vault themselves off a bookcase and attack him? He could only speculate at the looming challenges.

Ignoring her request may not have been the wisest of ideas, but Thomas was not going to let himself be pushed around by some girl. He grasped the book she had tossed, placing it on top of the book he was reading. “Thanks.” He spoke in a dead tone in attempt to mirror her intensity. “I’ve been looking for that.” He added, turning back down to the book. Dark wizards and influences the chapter read, Thomas felt chills climbing down his spine, the color rapidly draining from his face. Did she know of his father’s past as well? Was it her intention for the book to land on this page? He quickly looked back up to find her motionless stare. Now he was truly disturbed. He closed the book angrily and rose to his feet. He approached the girl instantaneously, tightly gripping the book she had tossed in fear of what their encounter held. Thomas dropped into the chair next to hair, his breath shortened. “What.”


OOC: Just to clarify..
Thomas' dialogue: Bold
Thomas' internal dialogue: Italic
Other characters: Italic in quotes
If there's any confusion owl me.

Ariella had always been a bit bored in every other place - and finally, she could be here, in the library. She ran into the library, excited. She had heard great things about it, what with all the people in her common room talking about it. She found a shelf of books she thought she might enjoy and browsed through it. She hastily grabbed a book from the shelves and sat down at the table. She read the book and sort of felt like people were looking at her. Well, it was a library. When she looked up she saw two people, one girl and one boy, both wearing Slytherin uniforms as opposed to her Ravenclaw one. It sort of made her feel awkward, but she shook it off and went back to her book. She still couldn't stand people looking at her - it was kind of stupid how she hated it.

She looked up and tried to smile at the people. The girl had an intense stare and it looked kind of scary. The boy looked pretty normal to her, apart from the fact he seemed to be trying to mirror the girl's deadpan look. Ignoring their seriousness, she slowly closed the book and grinned at them.

"Hello," she said rather coldly. She wasn't just going to open up to these people - they didn't seem much like her friends Samna and Annelise.

She could feel him, it was like this warmth... no, heat that seemed to come off of him. It was a sort of fire that usually settles in one's gut and chest but comes out through either their mouth or their fists. In a castle full of depressed bags of bones and hair, there something that went deeper than teenage angst in the case of a one Thomas Lestrange, was a welcome respite for the Slytherin. She did not know the context of this sensation, and in all honesty she did not care. Her ambitions were utterly and completely selfish, she simply sought to fill the void she experienced. It was more than a "my soul was darkness" teenager phase but rather there was simply nothing there, she felt hollow. It was like a vacuum with a voracious hunger for something anything to fill that empty space.

There were men, well boys before Thomas, several in fact. They just seemed to disappear after she took an interest in them, she never learned exactly how or why but they just vanished one day. It was a perennial frustration for the repressed youth, it took time and effort to cultivate their passions. To her it was nothing carnal but rather any intense sentiment she could elicit from them. A long time ago she had discovered it was easier to feed anger and spite than it was to cultivate a sentiment of love or friendship, in fact the later two while commonly professed were most often lies she had observed. For the most part, people were empty like her, there was nothing there... no substance, no heat or cold, just shades of grey. The difference between them and her was also simple, they had the capacity to be something more, to feel something if they decided to -try- to live. She could only feel vicariously.

This boy... this boy with the pale, glowering face and sloping shoulders would be the next to disappear. She just knew it. Until then, however, she was going to use him to make her feel.

She could not take her eyes off of him as he took a seat at the far end of the table. A book worm? He did not seem the type. Wrong color robes and a mildly athletic build for an eleven year old suggested otherwise. She cocked her head to the side like a curious bird as she appraised him, she had a way of worming into people's heads but on this particular day she would not have to try very hard. He was in his own head before she even got there.

She chucked a book at him, it was one of the books she was pretending to read. The book had too many words and not enough pictures for her, but the title sounded cool and in some ways the girl was a cliche. She would have known nothing of young Lestrange's pedigree or his father's dark legacy. Before this moment he was not relevant enough for her to even know his name. Had she known him, she would have had so much fun with him. As far as she was aware he was just like all of the other ambitious Slytherins she had encountered in her house. 

“Thanks.” 

His voice like dry leaves to her. There was nothing there, no substance or depth. It betrayed what was below the surface, past that layer of skin.

“I’ve been looking for that.”

Externally he seemed indifferent but she could feel otherwise. She pushed herself away from the table, she was going to approach him but she thought better of it when she felt it. The heat turned to ice, a sudden chill ran up her spine and as she looked down at her bare arms they were like gooseflesh. From anger to instant fear? Why? She recognized the emotion, she had felt it on occasion but it was rarely this profound or this sudden and it was never without cause. She furrowed her brow and wondered what had happened. What elicited this sudden transformation in him? This was not done out of concern but rather a more clinical interest, she wanted to replicate this result. Anger, fear, misery... it was better than feeling nothing at all. She wanted to feel something again because she knew like all things this too would dull and even her memory of what it felt like to feel would turn grey. It always did.

She had to fight the confusion that was painted all over her face, but she could not combat her expression of interest and inquiry. She simply stared at him like he was some exotic zoo animal as if to say -- and here is an emotionally charged young man in his natural environment. So she simply stared at him and beckoned him to come. 

He was not a dog that would come when called, but eventually he would come on his time. book clenched tightly in his hand.

“What.”

The abrupt demand for an answer. One she would give. "You are like a knot of burning wire," she commented now that she had a closer look at him. "What fun," she determined as she clapped the book she was going to try to read closed. He was already more interesting. "So gloomy. So scary.," she was describing him in emotions not in actions. "Angry?" She was also digging, her voice low enough to not get them forced out of the library but still loud enough that he could clearly hear her. She was still sitting of course, standing would only lead to a confrontation she did not yet understand. "At me? At you? At them?" There was always a reason, even for those whose emotions recklessly swayed with a stiff breeze. "Join me... My name is Erin."

Another voice attempted a greeting as well. She did not know her. Her robes were the wrong color. She did not feel anything, she was empty and dull. She leaned closer to Thomas, "friend of yours? Girlfriend?"

When she got no response, she simply sighed and mumbled a few words to herself. She opened her book again and looked down.

Dammit, she thought to herself Really got to practice that cold grin thing...

She looked back at Erin.

"Um... hello. I'm Ariella. I'm from Ravenclaw, so you don't know me... I hope you don't mind me."

Seeing the girl's empty stare, she opened her mouth to say something, but then looked down and sighed. She looked back up and tried to smile. Guessing she wasn't going to get a response, she just brought her attention back to her book. She looked back up again, feeling something was very wrong.

"Am I disturbing you? Is it because I'm different? I mean, look you're both Slytherins - surely you already know each other and-" She cut herself off and swallowed. "Sorry. I talk too much, don't I? I don't mean to. In fact, I hope we could be friends, maybe - I don't have many and- Sorry I should just stop talking."

She sighed again and looked down at the book in her hands. Feeling bored, she turned around and put the book back into the shelf. She turned back to Thomas and Erin.

"So, what are your names?"

When Thomas took his seat, he felt empty. The battle brewing between himself and this initially austere presence seemed to be a foregone conclusion. She had won the moment he decided to get up to approach. How could he help himself? It never breached his mind the title of the book she tossed was a coincidence. His internal fear of his father’s path triggered his fear. More so the feeling he would travel that same path in due time. It was inevitable in his mind, he was powerless of his bloodline. How naïve he was, susceptible to the dark thoughts of others. The challenge looming with this girl was the greatest he’s encountered in the dark, bewildering castle. One of many yet to pass.

“You are like a knot of burning wire, what fun. So gloomy, scary. At me? At you? At them? Join me… My name is Erin.”

Thomas could hardly recall being analyzed with such precision. Images flew through his mind. His final hockey game, an opposing boy with a strong jaw and lip to match. Constantly pestering Thomas, criticizing him. Thomas envisioned his helmet to come off his head, and so it did. Flying straight to the ceiling, the audience collectively gasped. While all eyes followed the helmet, Thomas locked in on the boy. He tackled him to the ice, his knuckles left bloody after attempting to break the boy’s jaw. The next image, Thomas sat on a couch across from his therapist. “Scared? Afraid? What of?” The therapist’s face slowly began to fade until it was a new face entirely. It was of the girl not but a few feet away from him. He could feel her anticipation, the power she began to gain. As if she had reached into his soul and taken a piece, waiting for him to open back up to reach in again. He wasn’t going to let her in.

Thomas took a deep breath, attempting to regain his focus on the present. He regained eye contact with Erin. He clenched his fist with contempt for her verbal poking and prodding. All the while he was left unaware of another presence attempting to intervene. Was it an attempt to defuse the tension? The new girl’s words were muted at first, Thomas could hardly look away from Erin. As she continued, Thomas subtly looked over to view the new presence.

"Sorry. I talk too much, don't I? I don't mean to. In fact, I hope we could be friends, maybe - I don't have many and- Sorry I should just stop talking."

It was a blessing in disguise. He was able to gather his thoughts and create a way to respond to Erin. The tension in his palm declined along with his anger. His lips curved up just slightly when he looked at Ariella. Just as he was about to respond Erin leaned in to stoke the fire within him yet again.

“Friend of yours? Girlfriend?”

Thomas turned back to Erin. “If I’m a knot of burning wire, you’re the flame beneath me.” The phrase ‘poke the bull and you get the horns’ may have been relevant here. Thomas had no idea what he may have entered with Erin, but he’d by lying if there wasn’t an underlying intrigue in what she knew about him. If she was merely viewing him as her next subject, or if she truly knew something about his past. Either way, he sensed a connection. Whether allies or rivals, he felt obliged to know what transpired from this encounter.

Erin…Ervaporate. Thomas recalled the story he learned from Malcom on the staircase only moments prior to his entrance into the library. “Join you? Like Howie did, or those before him?” He spoke harshly in hopes his comments would even the playing field between them. But what if those stories were rumors that were passed between houses for sport? What if those students feared Erin and created the story out of that very fair? Thomas tried not to speculate what he was uncertain of. It was the only counter he had. Still, his intrigue overpowered his hostility. “Join you to do what? Are you to teach me how to properly toss a book?”

The girl, unbeknownst to her had walked unknowingly into a quiet battle. Erin already had her claws into a one Thomas Lestrange. That was what made Erin so... unique. It was her ability to twist the sinews of one's heart. Not for love, but for a terrible purpose even she did not understand. Erin understood that she was a monster but her plan was hardly cognizant, she was more a force of nature in her delicate youth.

She would not see what Thomas saw, that was not within her grasp. However, she would feel it. She would in a lurid manner understand it. She envied it. His rage and his purpose, both of which she could not posses unless she stole it. "What fire in those eyes, how I envy it." It was of course with her hand that she would dare try to seize that same fire and make it her own.

“If I’m a knot of burning wire, you’re the flame beneath me.”

"Flattery will get you everywhere Slytherin," Erin replied. She did not know his name, only now had he been relevant enough for her to even consider the fact that such a fact lacked. 

He would not join her. What a spoilsport. He was concerned over what -- disappearing? Disappearing like all the rest.

"Possibly," she admitted. "If their disappearances were more than coincidental.... or perhaps their presence had more relevance than the rest, so their departures were more noticed," she admitted, pondering the possibility. "My tastes are exceptional, exquisite even," she inhaled as she took him in. Her toes curled a bit, it was a sensation Lestrange would never understand. "But I am not there with them now am I?" For whatever reason whatever fate befell them, she did not share in it. Perhaps it was her that was making them go away, like some sort of curse or some sort of shadowy protector that kept them far from her. Any one of them would have destroyed her given the opportunity but none of them seemed to remain long enough to have the chance. "Wherever that might be," her mouth cocked to the side. She wondered about them sometimes in passing, like wondering where your favorite barista had gone.

"Join me," she repeated. "Because you have value," she demanded calmer than she should after those accusations came out. What she wanted from him was his substance for the better or for the worse.  "Also, you seem more angry than scared. What harm can there possibly be in being present." The words made sense, but her tone and demeanor had a more devilish feel - as if a fiend was trying to convince a saint to sin.

"Or..."

This is where her cruel nature would of course surface. "You can spend your time with her," she was referring to the Ravenclaw. She had already forgotten the girl's name. Like a little white mouse in a house full of other little white mice, all plain and the same, all scurrying about. There was nothing exceptionally unique about her, a cliche bookish Ravenclaw with a social disability. [OC: I am so sorry. I do not think this!] She did not add anything, she was simply present. She existed, the wallflower that she was not being remarkable and not stirring the metaphorical pot. She could have been a potted plant in the room and had just as much significance in this encounter as far as she was concerned.

"You won't be happy with either of us, but you don't need to fake it." A bold claim made by the youth, but a true one. "There is nothing wrong with being the fire that makes you shine," a half smile seemed to emerge on the girl's face. She was not happy, she was faking it herself. There was nothing in there except for what she had stolen. All he seemed to offer was this hidden, silent rage.

She looked at the girl with no substance, the depth of a puddle and then looked over at Thomas. "My name is Erin Mulrain, shortened to Ryan some time ago. And this is..." she did not know a name so she would give him one. He looked like a... Kevin. Sure, Kevin worked. "Kevin." There were now three reasons for him to stay, not that he likely considered this fact. 

One - she was interesting and awesome. He literally had nothing better to do in his gloomy corner.

Two - curiosity. Yes, it has taken a few cats in its day, but he was not scared of some little girl!

Three - she was taking a hostage. This Ravenclaw would be in her grip soon enough and he would either be the hero, the villain or the boy that abandoned her.

"Kevin is utterly unsociable, I was hoping he finally got himself a girlfriend. Or a boyfriend," she shrugged, it was the 21st century and she was progressive enough to consider the possibility. "He simply won't listen to me," she complained as she gestured towards him with a sigh. "He simply wont try to make new friends or even keep the old," the girl was lying through her teeth of course.

OOC: Erin you are so utterly spoopy its so amazing

Ariella soon realized that this way, she wasn't going to make friends. She returned to her silent state, keeping her expression flat. These people weren't really the kind you played friendly with.

She heard the boy.

"Join you to do what? Are you going to teach me to properly toss a book?"

Ariella tried very hard to hold in her laughter, but a tiny chuckle escaped from her mouth. She shut it immediately after, worrying that they had heard.

She focused on the two and overheard Erin.

"Or, you can spend time with her."

She took this as an insult. How dare she!

"What's that supposed to mean? I hope you don't mind me hitting you, because if this keeps up I definitely will."

She sniffed unhappily as Erin introduced herself.

"Hello, Erin... Hello... Kevin?"

He did look like a Kevin.

"Kevin is utterly unsociable. I was hoping he had finally got himself a girlfriend. Or a boyfriend. He simply won't listen to me. He simply won't try to make new friends or even keep the old."

"Hmmm. No comment."

She often said "No comment," it was a little like a habit for when people were either acting unfriendly or lying. She preferred to decipher emotions before making any comment on these kinds of situations. But that didn't matter to her. She simply did not like this girl. (OOC: wow everyone's saying 'simply' xD) However, she had taken a slight liking to the boy. Although she had heard him speak once, what he had said was kind of funny.

"How long have you guys known each other?"

There was a beautiful contrast this situation presented. The seemingly virtuous young Ravenclaw on one end, the grim yet intrepid snake on the other. In the middle, a lost corruptible boy, filled with anger. Thomas was susceptible to darkness, he has felt it. His father’s blood made it so. In his mind, it was a path he would have no choice in traveling. If it were not so, he would be like his muggle-born mother. Nay, he does not share any similarities with her. Her acceptance for who she is. A leader with high-minded principles. Thomas believed he was preordained to a life of darkness. How wrong he was.

The rumors were real. Erin accepted the responsibility for making others disappear, she wore the notion like a medal. Who is this girl, the offspring of the dark lord himself?

"My tastes are exceptional, exquisite even. But I am not there with them now am I? Wherever that might be"

Thomas narrowed his eyes at her astounding declaration. Not only did she admit to her role in the disappearing act, she had no remorse. He could feel the power within her, while misplaced, it was raw. A feeling of admiration swept over him. Yes, that’s right, admiration. Not only did she know who she was, she understood herself far better than Thomas did. Her envy of his fire was now matched by his envy of her strength.

"Join me. Because you have value. Also, you seem more angry than scared. What harm can there possibly be in being present. Or, you can spend your time with her.”

Thomas looked to the Ravenclaw to see immediate negative impact from Erin’s words. He briefly felt sad for her, but it was quickly overpowered by his interest in joining Erin. Not to antagonize Ariella, but to see the true nature of Erin’s game. It was just a game after all.

"What's that supposed to mean? I hope you don't mind me hitting you, because if this keeps up I definitely will."

For the first time in days, Thomas smiled. He finally broke his silence. “I don’t think she would mind. It’s what she wants. Don’t give her the pleasure.” He immediately dropped the grin when he looked back at Erin. He wanted to join her, but not to admit it. He couldn’t give her all the power, he had to reserve the right to a piece of control over the following events. Regardless of stating the fact or not, he knew in good time his intent would be crystal clear.

"My name is Erin Mulrain, shortened to Ryan some time ago. And this is..."Kevin. Kevin is utterly unsociable. I was hoping he had finally got himself a girlfriend. Or a boyfriend. He simply won't listen to me. He simply won't try to make new friends or even keep the old."

Thomas closed his eyes briefly, internally slamming his palm into his face. As if his mother had made one of her awkward comments about his enormous potential to one of their close relatives. The nerve on this one… He refused to let her digs get to him. More than anything, the fact she did not know his name allowed him to realize she knew nothing of his past. She knew nothing of his father. It was a relieving thought, he now felt foolish for allowing her to get to him once. He was determined to avoid it happening again. “Right, Kevin. Perceptive of you.” He looked at Erin with distaste.

"How long have you guys known each other?"

“I’ve only just met Erin and she’s already intent on finding me a friend. How thoughtful she is.”

Thomas stood up and approached Ariella slowly, his full attention remained on the calculating girl he was turning his back to. There was a look of concern on his face as he neared Ariella, knowing very well the storm that may have been coming. Erin had him beat at every turn, he didn’t want Ariella to get caught up in the crossfire. Even if deep down he desired to join Erin, he knew he would have to prove himself worthy to avoid becoming another casualty. Another boy driven to disappear. He spoke quietly to Ariella, intending for Erin not to hear. “My advice to you…keep your distance from her.”

It was a departure of sorts for Thomas, advising this mere stranger to stray from Erin’s eye. Was it because he wanted her full attention? Or was there actually some good within him, a concern for others? Thomas turned back to Erin and retook his seat. As soon as he sat down, he sensed she was aware he was accepting her offer. She had seen through him up to this point. He found her eyes once more…What a fool you are, Thomas.

“My name is Thomas, Thomas Lestrange.”

It would be like the spiritual passover for Ariella, just an empty estate. Not a first born to be sacrificed, just this blood, this mask on the door. Even those with the spiritual weight of a feather had their uses, not at her side of course. They existed for contrast. So that the valued can be weighed against scrap. She recalled her interaction with Howard White on the train those months ago, it was the girl she went after not the boy. She wanted the Hufflepuff to survive the encounter. To learn from it. To feel it with the incredible intensity that only a few like him knew how.

The girl threatened Erin with potential violence. Before she could answer, Thomas did for her. She let out a laugh, it was not some maddened cackle or some disembodied noise, it was more a low rumble in the depths of her throat. "A masochist now am I?" He was not entirely wrong. In fact, he understood her in a way, she wanted a reaction. A true reaction none of this socially obligated to react, monotone, mundane ********. She looked over at the girl, "there is no passion... no depth or substance to your 'rage,' your indolent wrath." There was also the fact that in the midst of a fray, she could take the first year in a contest of brute strength and she had a year on the girl in terms of studies so even if her casting was essentially sub-par, they would at worst be on equal footing in that regard. Fighting the Slytherin would be suicide. Two on one however would be a hilarious outcome. Would not be the first time, Anatole and Alex restrained her when she attacked dear Oliver in the stalls. That was almost fun. She was so close to feeling something of her own. And then, like all the rest, they too faded into obscurity. 

She would of course continue to needle the both of them, She was digging, sifting, searching and she was pulling from 'Kevin' what she wanted. There was this cold jolt, she felt it in her temples, chest and upper arms once she gave him a new name. She did not understand it, but in truth she did not understand beyond concept most of the muddled emotions in someone's head. It was fleeting, this sense of embarrassment that seemed to tease her with such a brief presence she was only able to grip onto it for a moment before it wormed its way from her metaphorical grip and return to the ether.

Erin was a thoughtful girl wasn't she. "Poo-- I thought we were longtime friends, my mistake. Friendship is the best ship." Her voice almost seemed to take a song-like quality at the end. 

“My name is Thomas, Thomas Lestrange.”

Well, she did not know Thomas but she knew his surname. Lestrange. That family had a storied history in the wizarding world, one she like many of the pureblood families knew well. Well enough to know the heirs. Her eyes narrowed a bit. "You're not a pureblood," there was no accusation, she was simply stating a fact. Wizards often traced their lineage back as far as they possibly could to demonstrate their bloodline's superiority. "Never would have thought I would see the day where a pureblood would submit their heirs to an eternity of mixed heritage," it was almost sad.It was also almost funny. Lestrange would likely learn to resent his muggle side with time, there are some short-comings that are tied to such a union that the parents would not have to suffer or endure but their progeny would. 

It was all the more reason to dig her claws in deep enough to rend his flesh if he chose to leave.

She did not know what the exchange was between Thomas and the Ravenclaw, she did not particularly care. She was confident, overly so one could say. To her Lestrange made his choice when he sat back down and gave the Slytherin his name. "Your blood suits you," she concluded. "It will bubble and boil in response to their burning gaze as you distance yourself from your contemporaries and peers." It sounded like some sort of curse, but it was worse than that, it was a terrible truth he likely knew but never gave form to. "It will feed you, your path has already been chosen however... not by your blood, because until now I did not know your blood but I could feel it. It is you independent of your genetics, but your blood will become your why." He was not the first, but he has let her look the deepest, most fought back by now. Most fled or assailed her.

"Show me your wand."