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Post by Emilian Sota on Dec 23, 2007 16:15:39 GMT -5
Emilian had heard about this place. This place called the Shrieking Shack. This place called haunted. He hadn't even bothered to bring out his wand when he came through the boarded up door. It seemed like the only place in the God-forsaken school where someone could be alone. And that is what Emilian needed; to be alone. He needed time to breathe, time to think, time to be away from others.
He had already been in the dusty, cobweb-filled room on the second floor for nearly an hour, busying himself with mending an old, plush chair and using a few cleaning spells. He didn't usually think about himself as a neat-freak, but he had been called one before, especially when a lot was on his mind. After a quarter of an hour he had gotten the seat clean enough to sit in and that was what he was doing. He had brought with him a bottle of old, fine wine and held a glass in his hand, staring at the wall as he thought. He was strange like that.
The thoughts running through his mind were varied, everything from Michael to Chase to Adara. Michael....he didn't even want to think about that particular person, not until he was good and drunk, if that point ever came. Chase, why on earth did that boy think it was his responsibility, his job, to fight Emilian? He took a sip. And Adara, she was....different. Compelling in a way. All these thoughts fought for dominance in his mind as he sat alone in that dusty room with a bright glass of wine in his hand.
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Post by Michael Blackwood-Hardt on Dec 23, 2007 23:25:46 GMT -5
Michael didn't know what compelled him to walk into the Shrieking Shack, just that he had to. He pushed away the boards that made up the door and went up the stairs, following the disturbed dust that marked the passing of someone else. He came into the room and took a deep breath when he saw who was in it. There was something different about Emilian, but Michael couldn't quite put his finger on what it was. He came in, but didn't speak, instead he walked over to the window, rubbing a pane clean and staring out at a scraggly tree.
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Post by Emilian Sota on Dec 23, 2007 23:36:45 GMT -5
Emilian watched Michael for a few long seconds before pulling out and waving his wand, another glass appearing in front of him. He picked it up and poured some of the wine into it. "Fix you a chair and sit," it seemed as though there were no complete pieces of furniture in the entire place, "Drink," he said, holding the new glass towards Michael. It didn't occur to him that the one person he hadn't wanted to think about had come to him.
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Post by Michael Blackwood-Hardt on Dec 23, 2007 23:39:39 GMT -5
Michael obliged, repairing a chair similar to the one Emilian was sitting in and accepting the glass. "Why are you up here?" he asked after taking a sip. He raised an eyebrow, it was good wine. He kept his eyes focused on the liquid moving around in the clear glass, to keep from meeting Emilian's gaze for as long as possible.
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Post by Emilian Sota on Dec 23, 2007 23:50:50 GMT -5
"Peace and quiet," Emilian answered quietly, watching Michael's movements. "It seems like the only way to be alone around here is to go somewhere like this. And you?" He wondered what had made Michael decide to come through that haunted door, walk up those dangerously creaking stairs.
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Post by Michael Blackwood-Hardt on Dec 23, 2007 23:53:16 GMT -5
"There's no such thing as peace and quiet in this place. I don't really know why I came up here, couldn't stop my feet." He took another sip, still avoiding Emilian's cold blue eyes. Michael knew he should feel more tense than he did, that he should be on high alert around the other guy, but he didn't, he felt oddly comfortable, calm, in his presence. At least this time he did.
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Post by Emilian Sota on Dec 23, 2007 23:58:35 GMT -5
Emilian nodded, he knew what Michael meant. "What did you mean," he asked, though the question was hard coming, "When you said that I don't have to be a horrible person?" He had never viewed himself as a horrible person, just it seemed as though as soon as he had set foot in that wretched castle on the hill he had been nothing but trouble for its inhabitants.
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Post by Michael Blackwood-Hardt on Dec 24, 2007 10:10:14 GMT -5
"Exactly what I said. Of course," Michael stopped and looked over at Emilian for the first time. "Your little foray with Savannah will hurt your chances of the rest of the school accepting a change." If he hadn't done that one little thing, the entire school wouldn't hate him. Perhaps just severely dislike him.
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Post by Emilian Sota on Dec 24, 2007 11:05:10 GMT -5
Emilian was silent as he met Michael's eyes for a few short heartbeats. He broke the eye contact and took a sip from his glass. Thinking back, had it really been worth it? Yes. It was an idiotic question to ask himself, he knew that if he had the chance to do it all over again that he wouldn't change anything. Except maybe using his tongue to kiss her that first time. He pressed his tongue to the roof of his mouth in remembrance. "What made you turn? Why did they accept you?" he asked, not responding to Michael's words.
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Post by Michael Blackwood-Hardt on Dec 24, 2007 11:30:08 GMT -5
"I fell in love. You know I was never as committed as say, my father." He watched Emilian as he spoke. "I did some things here, used the cruciatus on one girl, messed with another's mind. I was much more subtle than you were. After the boat party, the attack, I hated myself for how I had hurt Dru." He still hated himself, not as harshly, he had been able to forgive himself some for what he had done, but it still nagged him. "I turned myself in, all the Death Eaters went into hiding and it seems like a lot of the old students have left, most of the people here now are new." It seemed, now that he thought about it, that Michael had gotten a completely fresh start.
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Post by Emilian Sota on Dec 24, 2007 11:35:11 GMT -5
Emilian nodded slightly, yes yes, he knew. Michael had never been as bad as his father, or even as Emilian. But he had always been sadistic, crucio had always come easily to Michael's lips, and Emilian knew that. "I'll never understand you, Michael. You've changed so much," he said, looking up. "Do you have any idea how empty your house felt without you there?" That year had seemed to drag on for eons.
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Post by Michael Blackwood-Hardt on Dec 24, 2007 12:57:33 GMT -5
"Why were you still in my house when I wasn't there?" Michael asked, smiling. He could imagine how strange it would have felt for Emilian to be in the house with only Michael's parents for company. He once again had that strange feeling he had had, the same one from their meeting out on the grounds by the lake, when Emilian had invited him up to the Room of Requirement.
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Post by Emilian Sota on Dec 24, 2007 13:36:39 GMT -5
"You know that your house has always been home to me." He said the words as though it was an obvious statement. Emilian had always spent more time at Michael's house than at his own. "Dad always liked you because of your little sadistic streak. I had one, but not nearly as bad as yours, I had more of an affinity for physical things." Emilian had always been the one with a girl on his arm and, sometimes, when no one was watching, a guy.
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Post by Michael Blackwood-Hardt on Dec 25, 2007 17:47:10 GMT -5
Michael gave a small nod, "More like that one uncle of mine." Michael remembered Emilian and his uncle spending large amounts of time together when possible. "And don't lie, your sadistic streak is just as bad as mine was, I just let mine shine more." He could remember bragging to Emilian's father about thing he had done, often in the company of Emilian, but he never mentioned that little fact.
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Post by Emilian Sota on Dec 25, 2007 17:51:59 GMT -5
"Whatever," Emilian said, shrugging, "It wouldn't have mattered, he always liked you more anyway." He took a long drink from his glass, draining it, and poured another glassfull. "What about that Adara?" he asked, staring down into the glass, afraid that Michael might somehow see the thoughts running through his mind.
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