( ATLAS )

“Dark magic. The really dangerous kind. Unforgivable curses, loads of blood, the lot.” It came easy to speak of such matters, although it probably shouldn’t have. Yet it was something Cassius was good at therefore he enjoyed the topic. “I believe i forgot to forward my last name. It’s Lestrange. I assume that sheds some light.” 

“No worries—I brush off everything, so it’s most likely I don’t give a shit. Depends if you’re the patient sort of not. If you get bored of whiskey, I have vodka. And not the cheap kind.” Part of her school supplies involved swiping a bottle of vodka from her stepfather, nestling it beneath her robes and books in her trunk.

“Well then consider me flattered and whatever.” In that moment there were very few things which could irritate the Captain; she wasn’t one. If anything he was amused. “Stranger? Eh, I'm not shocked. I wouldn't have caught your name if it wasn't for the Tournament either. It’s Cassius, try not to forget this time, ok Nemo? And I don’t disappoint love. Ask anyone i’ve slept with. Perhaps i’ll show you sometime.” 

           I’m surprised you even know the words. Lucien stifled a laugh. “I come from a long line of purebloods. It’s only natural,” he replied flippantly. That he was the son of a blood traitor was another story that was far from necessary to tell, and it wasn’t as if the other boy cared for small talk. The understated reputation that Beauxbatons had somehow earned was something he would have to get used to. It should have kindled a certain vexation within him. He should have felt his hand twitch toward his wand to demonstrate what he knew about curses right then and there. As pretentious as Beauxbatons came off as, it housed an eclectic population of students. Tidy and talented, proper and precise. The offhand remarks would pile up eventually, but for now his frustrations laid low. He had faith that Beauxbatons would prove its worth through the Tournament.

“Well I didn’t come all the way from Durmstrang to be pestered either. I just thought this would be a little more…exciting. Yet all that’s going on is talk, talk, talk.”  

It’s only natural? Was that kid joking? Cassius couldn’t help but attempt to stifle a laugh of his own---although ultimately failing and allowing a silent burst of mock laughter to escape his lips before the corners of his eyes darted back to the Frenchman. God only knows his own family was renowned for the numerous occasions during which they’d used the curse---even when unnecessary---with his grandmother as the poster figure of the insanity. Yet he found it hard to believe someone within the family of his conversation partner could have fallen into that pattern.

“Well then, has anyone in your long line of pureblood wizards ever actually successfully cast Avada Kedavra, if it’s only so natural?”

An eyebrow arched with curiosity as he awaited an answer. Cassius could have been wrong, he had no last name in order to make a proper connection---not even a first name if he was being honest---but something told him that this time first impressions had been correct. This kid didn’t look like he could murder anyone. And even if his assumption was incorrect, Cass didn’t quite care. As the other walked him through several tasks performed by Beauxbatons students Cassius’ interest diminished even further. There was no way they could be that boring…

“No baking classes? I’m shocked.”  

It did bother him---the comment about the French school being superior in number of victors---probably more than the other boy had intended. Feeling his muscles tense it took all that was left of Cassius’ self control not to fully spin on his heels and perform a practical demonstration of martial magic in the middle of the crowded hall. The Captain did not take lightly to being called a loser, even indirectly.

“One more champion above Durmstrang. And it can hardly be called a victory.”

Cassius spat out between his teeth as he attempted not to look affected; although that ship had probably long sailed. Like you’ve ever killed anyone before. To that Cassius smiled genuinely turning to fully face the Frenchman. This time there was no trace of rage on his face, just contentment. He was just as guilty as the rest of his family, although he did not have the same impressive body count to speak of. Well, if he’d ever speak of it anyway. Cassius didn’t recall those memories often, and never fondly, but this time he was grateful for them. 

He used the rabble of the party to sneak out to his usual haunt - the Forbidden Forest. He slipped into his animagus form like he was slipping on an old glove, and for a few blissful hours, he raced around the trees, running under the hooves of Thestrals and wrestling a pair of wolf cubs for a particularly interesting stick. The simple life of the creatures around him helped melt away any lasting concerns he had about his near-miss with the tournament, and by the time he changed back to his human form to leave the forest, his muscles ached sweetly, his lungs bursting with exhilaration. 

Sliding through the cover of the thinning trees, he was already thinking about the peaceful sleep he would finally have that night, when an enraged cry echoed out through the night. Isaac froze in his tracks, terror washing over him. Out of the darkness, a rock shot past his head. He ducked, blood pumping, and searched desperately for the source. Somewhere in the distance, a dark shape was moving. Someone was out there. There was no use in running - whoever it was had no doubt already seen him. He could have returned to his animagus form and dashed away, but fear robbed him of all logical thought. Instead he held up his hands in a gesture of peace, and stammered out, into the silence, “Pl-Please don’t th-throw anything else. I’m not here to hu-hurt you.”

It sounded ridiculous, coming from him. Of course he wasn’t going to hurt anyone. He couldn’t even kill the flobberworm that found its way into the Ravenclaw dormitory the previous night. But the stranger in the night didn’t know he was, and couldn’t even see him if they did. He had to reassure them somehow, if only to prevent them from throwing another rock.

The sound of a meek, stuttering voice was enough to further confuse the Durmstrang boy as he attempted---and failed miserably---to regain control over his weary mind. Was the voice in his head taunting further or was there really a person---flesh and bone---standing before him? Panting heavily, as if he had been running a thousand mile race, Cassius squinted his eyes into the darkness to try and decipher that riddle. A small gesture made by the figure was enough to answer his question.

No way in hell would his father ever surrender, least of all to the son he despised so deeply, therefore it was safe to conclude that tired eyes and an inebriated mind had indeed played a cruel prank which almost ended tragically. At least for whoever had been stupid enough to decide it would be a marvelous idea to disturb the Durmstrang boy’s peace. Cassius clutched the wand tighter in his hand yet he did not point its tip upwards, preferring to leave it facing the cold soil. Maybe he’d have use of it later.

Hurt him? Like there was anything in the world which could hurt him more in that moment than the bitter reality of absolute failure. A short burst of laughter escaped from between the Captain’s lips, both mocking and sad at the same time. He was no stranger to pain, especially the physical kind, and he had the scars to prove it. Yet he’d never truly learned how to deal with the emotional kind. Instead he kept his feelings bottled up inside until eventually---like in moments such as this---they exploded in his face.

“Well obviously. Otherwise you’d have used your wand by now.”  

When he spoke he sounded weaker than he’d intended, his voice hoarse from having howled at the wind, but just as sharp as always. Eyes narrowing he scanned the figure top to bottom with curiosity. It still refused to come forward and that annoyed the soul out of the Durmstrang boy. He did not appreciate being left to speak to a shadow---even though he’d done that to others himself. But in that moment he’d had more than enough problems with ghostly figures to not be affected. Plus, if he was forced to move he’d most likely crack.

“That’s what I always say, but my grand-mére would disagree.”

“My father was never fond of art. Nor did he approve of either me or my sister letting ourselves be distracted by something so trivial. But i never listened.”

“You never said anything about actually inviting until why now, but I don’t see why not. The faith you have in me is astounding, you know that? I’ll just have to surprise you, but trust me, I can stomach that wine and then some.”

“Well now you’re just mimicking my remarks. And just when i was beginning to admire your wit. Oh, I disagree. There’s no light here, just a very bored man and his needs. And at the end of the day, sex is sex.” He shrugs nonchalantly. “In that case i guess you should applaud yourself.” 

On their way out, she flourished her wand over the shards of the broken vase. The pieces flew back together seamlessly, and what looked like a brand new vase sat by the doorway.

“Sadly I can’t stop you from thinking. But if I could, I would.” And that was the truth. Cassius didn’t quite take to being thought of as anything but malicious or unsociable on a good day. Probably because he had absolutely no idea how he was supposed to react to not being made the villain of the story. While the French girl proceeded to cram all her school supplies into her bag with such haste as if the fate of the world depended on it, Cassius took his time collecting his belongings and placing them carefully in his backpack before tossing one strap across his shoulder and turning to check if Aurelie was finished.

As he spun round he walked nose first into a neat bundle of peonies, blinking several times with confusion before his hand managed to wrap around the strains of the flowers. With a quick nod he agreed to the plan, he was feeling rather hungry. As Aurie headed for the exit---careful to fix the vase he’d broken on her way out---Cassius did not follow immediately, keeping a few steps behind, just enough so she wouldn’t see him quickly drop the bouquet into the vase before walking out. He never really liked flowers, they reminded him of his mother.

Since there were many students roaming the grounds after hours, Jace didn’t feel too poorly about exploring on her own. She didn’t love to make things harder for those she was staying with, and at Hogwarts, she was a guest. Usually, that would make her abide the rules. Tonight, however, seemed a night for making mischief and trying new things, which was exactly what she was in the mood for. The time for moody introspection had passed, and she was determined to move on.

       Exiting the castle, she took a deep breath of clean night air and looked around. It was harder to see where she wanted to go from this vantage point, but her latest object of fascination was clearly visible; the “Forbidden Forest”. Said to be full of dangerous and deadly creatures, Jace found it oddly enticing. Most of the beasts said to lurk in the trees were ones she’d only seen in textbooks. Confident as she was in her own ability as a witch, she figured she might take a crack at entering.

                After all, what use were the books if she never had to use their knowledge through practical application?

            Moving faster now that she was out of the castle, she headed towards the trees. Maybe they could’ve seemed menacing, but to Jace they only seemed to be full of promise and adventure. The warmth and light of the castle was beginning to settle in her veins, bringing out a side of her that was usually reserved for holidays and home. She felt excited in a way she so rarely did at school.

        The canopy above made the moon vanish, and she murmured a quiet lumos to light the tip of her wand. She moved carefully over the rather large tree roots, looking around and listening to the sounds of animals all around her, just out of sight. It was a bit spooky at times, but that only heightened the strange enticement of this place. 

  Hearing rustling, she moved towards the sound, putting out the light on her wand. After a minute, her eyes adjusted, and she made out a dark silhouette. Another student, it seemed. She went to approach and say something when a yell startled her into raising her wand. 

               A rock came hurtling towards her and she froze it in the air, using nonverbal magic to gently float it back to the ground before lighting the tip of her wand once more. The voice was as she thought she’d recognized; Cassius Lestrange.

       “Do you mean me harm, Cassius?” She asked carefully. While she had never been particularly afraid or put off by their Quidditch captain, he didn’t quite seem himself in that moment. Maybe he’d mistaken her for someone else, but maybe something had happened to cause him to react to her this way. Jace couldn’t fully be sure, though instinct led her to believe the former. “I would’ve preferred something more along the lines of hello.” 

In that moment he meant harm to everybody and nobody. Part of him wished his right arm had twitched upwards and his brain allowed his lips to move, spitting out an unforgivable curse. Yet reason had ultimately prevailed and Cassius was truly grateful for what was left of it stepping in. Having finally recognized the voice---only after the girl spoke a second time---he knew he could never lived with having harmed one of the very few people he liked to think of as friends.  

Realizing he’d been standing there staring for almost five minutes after Jace had spoken to him, the boy knew he needed to come up with a reply before she believed he’d gone completely insane---even if that was not far from the truth. Clearing his throat Cassius spoke and to his relief the words came out in a much calmer tone than he could have hoped for. So maybe he could still patch things up even in the slightest.

“No, of course not. I…I was just not expecting to see anyone around here at this hour. That’s all.”

The reply still failed to explain why he was throwing rocks at the howls of the wind or screaming like a lunatic but Cassius simply shrugged off the event as if it had been the normal reaction of a sane human being. Maybe she’d just think he mistook her for a creature of the supernatural variety---with all the mystery of the woods---and was simply trying to scare it away. Highly unlikely; but one can always hope.

Not wanting to come off as weak, especially not towards someone he’d later have to coordinate on the playing field, Cassius worked on quickly rearranging the pieces of his usual careless façade before he could step into a full line of sight. Wand tucked safely within an inner pocket of his jacket, arms folded across his chest and a neutral expression painted on his features. Even though within him the storm had not calmed down in the slightest; if anything his pulse had gone even higher now brining an unpleasant and hard to ignore ring into his ears.

“So, why are you out here?”