wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure

[alittlemirror]

To say Jade is displeased would be an understatement. It's not that he cares about this detention tarnishing his record, no. He doesn't really care about his record. What he does care about is how it cuts into his studying time. He had just come across a particularly fascinating snippet on the nature of death and the soul...

(And besides, those Hufflepuffs had started it with their incessant chattering. They're like a less annoying version of Saphir, and nobody had ever really objected when he hexed Saphir. And it's not like he used a serious hex; he just sealed and removed their mouths. Easily reversible, if they knew what they were doing - and knew how to use nonverbal spells.

After all, what kind of first-year doesn't know how to use nonverbal spells?)

But someone had taken offense to his hex, and now he finds himself trudging to Professor Rammsteiner's office, growing increasingly irritated at the loss of his study time. From what he's heard of detentions, they usually entail doing useless, mundane tasks easily accomplished with a little creative wandwork. He's thought about ignoring Professor Rammsteiner's orders more than once, but he's also been told that it would just lead to more detentions and thus a bigger waste of time.

Oh well. He's here now. With one last irritated sigh, he raises his hand to the door and knocks.

"Professor Rammsteiner? This is Jade Curtiss."

Comments

[aseptic]

The deeper he goes, the more that fear presses down on him, a physical weight bearing down on his shoulders, making his steps falter. Once, he almost stumbles into one of those chasms. They're not real chasms, of course, just a representation of all the things wrong with Heine's mind, but it still sets his heart to racing, sweat beading on his brow.

He hasn't felt this alive in years.

The maze ends without warning. He barely has time to take in the smell of blood before darkness coils around him and constricts, bringing with it a fresh wave of menace.

"Name your terms," he says through dry lips, as if they're bargaining, as if they're on equal footing here.

[canicide]

Heine's dog laughs again; it echoes off of something in the darkness. First of all, you don't come near my master again. He's been keeping me down, you know? Makes me mad. He doesn't want to kill. Rip you open. I want to, haha, fuck. Get into your stomach. Your lungs. Haha.

From time to time a flash of pale skin or hair appears in the darkness around Eichel—someone pacing around him in a tight circle—but that's it. Nothing more is visible, even when the warm damp breath on the back of his neck becomes the brush of lips and teeth as it speaks.

I don't give a fuck like he does. He'll let me out if you try again... on him or that kid. It goes quiet for a moment, almost thoughtful, as its hands meander over Eichel's shoulders and arms to take hold of his wrists and presses against his back from behind. That wouldn't be so bad. I could taste you better.

But the boss is the boss. Another laugh, and nails digging in so deep they're more like claws. I listen to him. And now you do, too.

[aseptic]

The hollow feeling in the pit of his stomach grows and grows. His hands are clammy. Something breathes behind him, warm breath ghosting over his skin, but all Eichel feels is cold.

He's frozen still, in mind and body both, as the ghost - the dog - takes hold of him. He doesn't resist as his wrists are moved. The dog's claws sink into him, and still he doesn't - can't - move.

"I-- understand." The words are forced out of him, jerky and flat, by a compulsion he can't explain.

[canicide]

Good. The dog giggles, right into his ear, teeth catching against his skin briefly. Then I'll see you around.

Eichel is released a moment later. Heine pulls away from the Legilimens, taking a physical step back and drawing a deep breath. It doesn't take long for him to settle; the dog is still in him, chuckling to itself and looking out his eyes at Eichel with glee.

He'd heard part of the interaction, but he doesn't know exactly what had happened, so he lets the dog lead—on a short leash.

"You get it, right?" His voice comes out more roughly, while his words slur slightly together, when it's something not used to talking using his mouth. "You get it."

Heine smiles with too many teeth.

[aseptic]

He's back in the real world now, and with that realisation, Eichel feels his mind begin to clear, some of that primal fear fading away.

Some, but not all, and he's frozen once more as he catches sight of the unnatural wrongness in Heine's eyes. The dog had followed him. There's phantom pain at his wrists, at his ear, the memory of the dog's teeth and claws digging in like thorns.

But Eichel isn't without his own defences. They are at the heart of his home in Durmstrang, where his own power had long ago sunken into the stone beneath their feet and the walls around them, layers of magic built up over the years.

"I understand," he says quietly. It's not only fear holding him in place, now. There's fascination too, now that he can see Heine's curse unleashed and brought into the real world.

[canicide]

"Then—" Heine's voice shifts quickly between words to a habitual flat monotone; "—sit down."

The curse is a part of him. A bit of its power, from the dog, has transferred onto Eichel, exerting constant pressure that demands obedience. And the dog's order, to listen to Heine, will make the demand even stronger.

[aseptic]

He's sitting before he knows what he's doing. He's only aware of what he had done when he feels the soft cushion of the chair under him, and the realisation sends a shock through him.

Infuriated, he almost tries to resist — but no, it would be better to bide his time, to wait until the pressure on his mind lessens. Instead, he looks coldly at Heine.

"You've made your point." His stare is no less piercing than it usually is. "Is there anything else you wanted to say, Heine?"

[canicide]

It's almost all Heine that looks at Professor Eichel. He holds himself the same way as he did before—before Eichel, before, when he'd been a student at Durmstrang, tense and on edge.

But he has no expression rather than an angry one. He looks down at Eichel where he sits with an odd blankness, with just a flicker of his curse in his eyes, and says nothing.

[aseptic]

Its even more infuriating to see his old student like this, and be reminded of the last time he had been bested by the dog, his prize snatched from him. But Eichel keeps himself under control.

"I'll leave you alone," he says, once the silence stretches on for too long. "Now, if there's nothing else..."

[canicide]

"Jade." Heine speaks almost abruptly. He's fighting the curse, trying to not relish in the power as much as the dog does. It would be so easy to let it out. In his attempts to not let it happen, he closes down everything external aside from what he feels he has to say.

"Don't go near him either."

[aseptic]

Something had changed about Heine. The dogs presence seems to be fading, and with its departure, some of the pressure suffocating him seems to lessen. Not enough for him to wrench free from Heine's control, not yet, but enough for him to think and plan.

"I won't go near him."

And he intends to keep his word — the letter of it, at least, and not the spirit. He just has to make sure Jade comes to him. Eichel refuses to be deprived of another prize.

[canicide]

Good. Heine keeps staring at Professor Eichel for another long moment, judging and measuring, before he takes a step back and finally leaves. When he does, most of the pressure disappears, but there will be a weight remaining with Eichel that doesn't fade.

Heine walks back to his room as fast as he can. The dog laughs at him, too, cackling at his discomfort and fear. It's hard to stifle it, but he does. He forces it all down. He sits with the lights off and his eyes open, trying to block out the noise, until morning.