darkest heart

nik ● @ncirdejais​

detransforming, the young ravenclaw has learned, does not get easier through each cycle — completely in contrast to what the arrogant alpha told her in the rushed orientation when she unfortunately got bitten all those years ago.

      at least, the only consolation she gets from this whole ordeal is that detransforming was far easier — and far better — than transforming into her wolf persona. and so, as the last remnants of the moon herself fades away into the morning light and as her fur morphed into human skin, emma couldn’t help but to sigh with relief at the signal that it’s finally over. however, her relief was fleeting as the inevitable CRASH of lethargy suddenly caught up with her. she absolutely cannot wait to land face-first into her dorm bed back in the castle.

      — then she had to remember that she lost the aforementioned alpha last night.

      a loud frustrated groan escaped her lips, letting herself sink back into the filthy floor where she detransformed on. completely ignoring the dirt in her hands, the witch found herself digging and rubbing the heels of her palm against her eyes as her ire slowly bubbles up to the surface. great. she’d really rather not deal another problem like this early this morning; most especially right after a full moon.

      ( emma learned earlier in life that she has little to no control over what she does and doesn’t want in her life. unfortunately, looks like life forget the memo of what she actually wants and instead started shoving what she doesn’t want down her throat in the most inopportune time. )

      fortunately for her, with the sliver of luck she had left in her bones, nik wasn’t that hard to track with her heightened sense of smell. it was almost a miracle that she didn’t get distracted by the other scents around her, considering her situation and her condition. however, her pace slows down as another strong scent hit her nose. a familiar one. her stomach DROPS, hoping that she was wrong. hoping that what she’s smelling that was intertwining with her alpha’s scent wasn’t—

      ❝ … nikolai ? ❞ she called out, inhaling sharply as she sees the state of the other newly detransformed werewolf right in front of her. FUCK. ❝ jesus christ, rowena, and merlin, what the fuck did you do this time ? ❞

      Going back to human form always took a bit of effort. Nik certainly wouldn't go as far as to say it was painless, but whatever difficulty he used to feel in the process had largely disappeared with time and he had learned to welcome the sensations. Pushing back against the wolf always made him feel powerful.

      Being a werewolf was so much more than most people believed, especially in the wizarding community. People like Nikolai were treated like a disease, a threat; they were to be shunned at the very least, murdered if at all possible. Laws hadn't done much to change minds. And sure, he was absolutely a menace – not above preying on innocent teens at school so he could give the wolf inside him the violence it so needs – but he was also stronger, faster, better in so many ways.

      His little Beta didn't seem to believe that, in spite of the numerous speeches he had given her. Sometimes he could see her attention float away and wondered what in that messy mind of hers could possibly be more interesting than himself. Or was she simply too stuck up to have some fun, ditch the liquid chains they were required to drink on so many nights?

      Had she listened to him they could both be waking up with the sun, drenched in morning dew and sweat and– blood? That did look like blood. After approaching his arm to his nose Nik could certify it smelled like it, too. Gods, the few minutes after a turn-back were a blur of so many senses he could have had none at all.

      Which was why he only took notice of Emma once she started near-screaming at him. Why did she look so mad? Was it him hightailing it the night before, was it the blood he was covered in? Using whatever parts of his brain that hadn't been undone overnight Nikolai decided that it must indeed have been the blood.

      "Don't shout," he pleaded as his index fingers tapped his ears in a rhythm. If she'd give him just one minute... "I don't think it's mine, so no reason to worry." Like that settled things. "Should I use some leaves to take that off or is it discreet enough that I could wait to take a shower?"

       vera never really knew that this day would come. that the nikolai would finally come and talk to her — like she was worthy of his sweet, sweet time. she had done so many things in her life to make her parents proud and most of it she did while looking back, seeing if nikolai had seen it just to impress him. she felt like all those years of training for quidditch, learning how to apply make up, and even getting good grades finally paid off and she was reaping the rewards.

       his hesitation made her worry. did she look like she didn’t like his invitation or did she look indifferent that he just decided not to waste his time on her ? she almost spoke to tell him that she would reconsider for him but he beat her to it. his words were poison to her and it made her smirk in excitement to the idea of seeing him everyday ( not that she doesn’t, it just feels better to know that he allowed her to see him without thinking of a way to talk to him ). ‘ i guess i’ll tell my secretary to fill in my saturdays with your name on it, then. ‘ 

     Vera visibly shared none of Nikolai’s hesitation, which must mean she was fine seeing him every week. Would it be alright, though? Nikolai was great at the chase, it was in his blood now after all, but would the beautiful serpent be as interested in him once he was not shrouded in mystery anymore? Would he still be as interested in her? There was only one way to find out.

     “ Should we use the next Hogsmeade weekend as a way to get better acquainted around a good drink, or appreciate the silence of the castle together instead? Maybe you’d rather wait and see where our feet take us? ” he asked all this in as nonchalant a tone as he could, because he didn’t want his eagerness to be too obvious, but at the same time his cocky grin held a fondness he had trouble keeping out of the way.

She sat down properly now, her back straight, her legs still crossed, but this time, the parchment wasn’t sticking on her legs. Even underneath her robe, she wore her cat sweater that said ‘fuck you’ and some shorts. Fuck detention, she wasn’t here to wear itchy pants. “Fucking annoying, if you ask me. She just needs a good fucking honestly.” She commented as she stared at her own nails and checked if her manicure was still intact.

His comment had made her chuckle along with him. She was always called in the headmaster’s office for whatever reason — mainly because she was having so much detention but they couldn’t kick her out because her grades were stellar and she wasn’t remotely doing any harm to anybody. “Oh, honey, you’re still pretty when you frown. But I’m flattered I make your pretty face smile.”

Nikolai cackled – with dignity, of course, he wouldn’t make a sound that would ruin his polished image – and nodded. “That would do her good, plus there are some people waiting in line for the opportunity. She just needs to chill a little bit.” He hummed in agreement at Cat’s compliment. He was handsome no matter what he did. He had to be ethereal and amazing as a werewolf too, of that he had no doubt. “Thank you love, I always appreciate people speaking the truth. But please, no false modesty between us: you can make anyone smile.” As to prove it he grinned, taking her hand in his to hold it up to his lips. Hand kisses were terribly underrated, and a distinguished young woman such as Catherine deserved the deference.

The attention she was having from Nikolai gave her the delight. Not only girls swooned thinking about him, here he was giving his time for her. And for what? A quill? Lucky day for her perhaps. Even if she had the looks to make any men kneel down on her, she felt like she didn’t have enough to grab the attention of Nikolai Vasile. But here she was, talking to him and it made her day a little bit better.

She gave a chuckle towards his vanity. His confidence is what attracted her towards him — two confident people made a nice pair in her opinion and the two of them would make a hit. Whatever the circumstance was, the female was happy that she dropped her quill — did she? She never really noticed it fall nor disappear from her table. “Just tell me if you need my autograph, monsieur. Or if you need more time with me, I’m available every Saturday, seven pm. What say you?”

Any hint of amusement from Vera had Nikolai standing even taller. He was charming, this he knew, but looks weren’t enough when it came to someone like the woman in front of him. Besides, even if she liked what she saw – why wouldn’t she? –, he wanted her to like him, his personality and ideas. He wanted her to like what he rarely showed; only then would he be truly satisfied and, dare he think it? Happy.

“Every Saturday, uh?” He pondered for a few seconds. If he looked hesitant it’s because he was, almost shy even, and it must have shown on his face when he looked back up from the quill and straight into Vera’s eyes. “This was a bit of a bold thing to say, about your schedule. What if I started to show up every Saturday? You could end up with more than you bargained for.”

Vera had her mind elsewhere. The next Quidditch game was coming closer and for the first time, she was nervous. Vera Salazar didn’t want to disappoint her house, knowing that Slytherin was full of pride. Especially if there was a certain green eyed male eyeing her every few seconds. She just wanted his attention and she felt that if she choked in the games, he might decide never to look at her again.

For most of her years in Hogwarts, she had been trying to get his attention at the same time, trying to show him that she didn’t have any interest. But this time, she wanted to make sure he had eyes only for her. She was trying to think of how to grab his attention without her making the first move and maybe if ever he didn’t, she’d tell him. 

What she didn’t know was that the green eyed male she was thinking talked to her and as a response, she gave him a raise of the eyebrow - one that scared a lot of people - before shock overcame her face and gave him a questioning look.

When she gathered herself back, she gave him a smirk, and replied, “Oh, my saviour. If I hadn’t had that pen, I wouldn’t have taken my notes. Will the kind gentleman give that back to me or should I sign my autograph on that feather?”

The look Salazar initially gave him sent a delighted chill down Nikolai’s spine. Not many people felt dangerous given his situation, but Vera could most likely take down all the Slytherins in their year without breaking a sweat. Plenty of them wouldn’t even dare face her to begin with.

“Hm-mm, I am chivalry personified.” So she may not have noticed him taking the quill from her. If she had, she didn’t seem to mind, and Nikolai cared little whether she knew he had staged their meeting or not. How likely was it that he’d be the one handing her lost item back by complete coincidence? “I will happily give it to you, but if I do it now we’ll have no reason to keep talking. Your choice, my lady.”

There was this tradition in the Vasile family: make lots of children, and the head of the family will find you the best ones. It had been done several different ways over the generations, this selection, and for a while now it had been through a good, old fashioned werewolf bite. Children were bitten at age five, and the parents waited anxiously as their kid writhed in agony. Once a pup had made it, the parents were allowed to make more children, bite-free. The family had to persist one way or another, and that was their way.

So biting Emma, it had been like welcoming her with open arms into a big, happy family. Surprisingly enough she hadn’t liked it; worse than that, she seemed to resent Nikolai for what he’d done. Which admittedly he didn’t understand, thus he did his best to make her forgive him. For instance, he was aiming to fix her uniform that day, as he had spotted her in the hall during breakfast wearing the wrong tie. A quick trip had been enough to threaten somebody acquire the right item and there he was, walking towards her with a pleasant smile on his face.

“There you go, Emmy,” he said as he placed the Gryffindor tie around her neck. “Whoever tricked you into wearing blue is a big bully, don’t let them get the best of you.”

The female was certainly beaming now. The arrival of her bestest friend had liven up her mood, giving her more energy to plow through her assignment. Not like she wasn’t bad at writing, she just didn’t want to do it. “Essay type. Easiest type of homework honestly. But Professor Clyde just wants everyone to squeeze their minds like they’re lemons.” She explained, her eye rolling while at it. She loved Defence Against the Dark Arts but their professor was always making them do something. 

“I guess, there’s three more questions I don’t wanna bother with anymore. But in all honesty, if it was allowed, I would’ve just put Crucio as the spell I’d choose. But that might get me in the headmaster’s office… not the office I want to be in.” She giggled, thinking about her rendezvous with Professor Barnes oftentimes. The female crossed her legs while shoving her parchment and quill towards her friend. “So, what brings you here, Mister Vasile?”

“Oh, that one,” Nik nodded his understanding. “Yeah, she gets like that, doesn’t she?” The trouble he had with professor Clyde’s demanding nature was that he ultimately liked Dark Arts a lot more than defence against it, and had made the mistake of saying that much in an essay once. Not a very wise thing to say in a school that doesn’t know where the real fun lies, truth be told.

He chuckled as Catherine’s train of thought aligned with his for the briefest of moments. “I think the headmaster would be the least of your worries then.” What brought him here indeed? “I missed your pretty face, which made me sad, and I’m too pretty to frown.”

Elite Quidditch player Vera Salazar had to be one of Nikolai’s favourite people in the entire castle, portraits included. Some brushstrokes could hold a better conversation than many students (or even teachers), and then there was Vera, gorgeous as a painting with all the qualities of a living person, flesh and blood – and oh boy, did Nikolai appreciate those.

But he was also a hunter at heart, making the chase as thrilling as actually being close to her — not that he’d know the exactitude of that comparison, since they weren’t close really. Of course they knew each other, they had been sharing a house and a class for years, playing this game of cat and mouse, but they weren’t friends. That would ruin the fun of it, Nikolai didn’t want to be friends. When he finally went in for the kill, he’d aim for far more than Vera’s friendship.

Not to say he wouldn’t jump at the opportunity to hand her back the quill he had not-that-subtly stolen from her earlier.

“Haven’t you been missing that, Salazar?” he taunted, twirling the feather around his fingers. “Cause I could hear it weep all class long.”

Cat was sitting on the edge of a half wall as the wind gusted behind her. She was doing a last minute procrastination on her assignment - due in about an hour - because she ended up in Eugene’s office last night… again. She was unfazed though, she didn’t really care that she was doing her homework just now than frolicking like she wanted to do. She never really regretted whatever happened between her and her professor, so a last minute procrastination wasn’t really one of those things.

A lot of people tended to stop by and try to talk to her - perhaps to tell her to skip class and get out with them - but she ended up waving them off because she was in no mood to get plastic with them. Ever since rumor got out that she was fucking their professor (was it even a rumor?), people have been giving her dirty looks or a judgmental one and she had to roll her eyes at the hypocrisy.

There was only one person who high fived her after hearing the story, and after that, he had been what seemed like a big brother to her. He was the kind of guy she knew had her back with whatever chaos she wanted to commit. Fortunately for her, the next person who tried to talk to her was Nik. Out of routine, she almost dismissed him, mistaking him for another one of those hypocrites but after hearing his voice, she finally looked up and stopped scribbling, “Well, now that you mention it, I feel like the need to do it.” She grinned as she got back to writing.

Nikolai snorted at Catherine’s comment and took a seat by her side, cocking his head to better see what she was writing about. “Last minute homework?” She seemed to be in a hurry, and if he remembered her handwriting Nikolai may have noticed a slight difference between her best one and the hasty scribbling on her parchment. But he didn’t, and couldn’t, so instead he offered his help. “It’s probably something I did last year, if I’m taking that class on NEWT level. The teachers don’t bother to change the assignments unless there’s a change in the program,” he remarked drily. It helped younger years for sure, but it felt a bit lazy to him. “So what do you say? Maybe I’ll steal your dessert as thanks, but that shouldn’t detract you from my precious offer.”

To be frank, Nikolai knew nobody else like himself. He knew other werewolves, obviously, but they often lacked his charm and refinement. He knew charming silver tongues, but none as handsome as he. Beautiful people he had seen in spades, but so many turned out a catastrophe as soon as they opened their mouth. Under such circumstances, who could blame him for his aloof behaviour? He simply had no one to turn to for good company.

No one, or almost. He could count the good people on one hand and still have some room. One of those people was Catherine, much to Nikolai’s surprise at first, and contentment as time went by. He had trusted her with his secret and she had reciprocated, which obviously meant they had an unbreakable bond now. Him bumping his elbow against her shoulder with a knowing grin wasn’t a surprising sight for anyone. “Well hello there, do you have some time for me, or are you having a private study session tonight?”

Kennedy proudly looked up to the ceiling, showing off the still pink scorch marking his lovely pale neck. “You know something about Colleen I don’t? I like playing Uncle. Let’s keep it that way.” With a smirk, he glanced back to Nikolai, lowering his head from it’s raised position. “Basil’s on a power trip and I’m…” What were the words he used? “Consistency in mediocrity!”

“Hell no”, was Nikolai’s reply to both Ken’s question and the mark he was exhibiting proudly. Well, he looked proud now, or was it smug, but the Romanian wouldn’t feel the same way about it until he knew the other guy had gotten a mark, too. “You know I don’t pay attention to others enough to figure out stuff like that.” He had intended to frown, but instead a full-on bitch face took over his features. What kind of bastard...? “Please tell me you kicked him off his high horse. So glad I’ve hardly ever seen the guy. Can’t even tell you for sure I’d recognise him if you threw a dozen dudes in a suit in the same room with him. Does he have any receipts of times you didn’t do your fucking job?”