Night settled heavily over the grounds of Hogwarts. The night was still, but the evening was chilly. Dew was starting to accumulate on the stubby grass covering the Quidditch Pitch. Elijah needed space and level ground for this evening’s ritual and the pitch needed to be put to use for something other than throwing stupid balls around in the air. Yuck. What kind of a sport was Quidditch, anyway? At least Gobstones was a game that required skill and strategy… Quidditch was just riding around brooms trying to kill each other, and you could foul as easy as breathe. No, Eli had absolutely no interest in such a brute sport.

Eli had carefully set an altar of wine and pig’s blood, black candles and powdered moonstone in a circle of salt and crushed sage. Tonight, on a night of deepest dark, with a new moon hanging silently in the sky, Elijah would try once again to summon his vampirical father by his side. He had been studying all year on new and improved ways to make the ritual succeed, and he was sure that this time he would be successful. Eli had finally, at the end of last year, stopped telling his classmates that his father was a vampire… they didn’t believe him and he didn’t have many friends because of it.

Wand in hand, Elijah started chanting and twirling his wand in the air, while slowly walking in a clockwise direction around the magical circle. It was late, which helped the ritual, as well as lessened the chance of being walked up on. People were finally starting to talk to him… and he didn’t really realize how important friendship was until he was faced with the prospect of it… now he didn’t want to lose it. 

There was nothing remotely scary about the Quidditch pitch at night. Compared to much of the rest of Hogwarts, it was relatively mild: no creaking doors or ghostly footsteps, no forest shadows or silhouettes hiding behind the mist.

Raine was accustomed to taking advantage of her animagus form in recent evenings, wandering the grounds- but there were times at which the forest felt too dangerous, the castle claustrophobic. And so she stalked the open corridors around the pitch or the rooms underneath the stands that led into the lockers.

Even if caught, these were not unusual places to find a prefect or team captain. This night, Raine found herself down in the Gryffindor lockers after having ambled shortly from the castle courtyards. Her paws treaded the floorboards quietly, cat ears ducking underneath benches as she headed for the stairwell leading up on to the pitch.

As she approached the steps, Raine paused briefly and concentrated- forcing out the bubble of magic she could always feel within herself, pushing it outwards until she knew that she was finally shifting back into human form. It was not long before the redhead stood straight, a figure of black in jeans and a dark sweater. She nodded once to herself and then ascended to the pitch in long strides.

"Finally..." Raine said out loud the moment she felt the cool evening air. It was stuffy downstairs. Stretching her arms back, she looked around the familiar and unlit field. Except it was not so dark tonight. Odd. Not far from edge- candlelights, unmistakable. A person. Her wand was out again in a flash and Raine squinted through the darkness as she walked forwards.

"Who is that?" she called out once close enough. Was that Elijah? Godric's socks. "What on earth are you doing out here Grimlish?"

It had been weeks since his anticlimactic return to academic-level Quidditch, and Kingside still refused to let his skill dull. Raised to believe that only through constant and vigilant honing could one keep their talent razor sharp, the young Chaser refused to sit in his house dorm and waste precious hours sleeping, of all things. There was plenty of rest to be had when one was dead, no? This in mind, Kingside quietly slipped out of the Gryffindor common room, winking to a particularly comely witch fluttering her eyelashes at him from the other side of a lovely hillside painting, and chose his mode of egress from the castle; a narrow passage leading out onto the ground, towards the shimmering lake, forbidden forest, and - most importantly - the Quidditch pitch.

Clothed in a pair of worn jeans and a crimson-gold-striped t-shirt, as well as a pair of wrist-length brown leather gloves - athletic, they were! - Kingside made his way down to the pitch, his neat, expensive broomstick slung over his right shoulder, a mesh bag full of what appeared to be a dozen rubber balls engorged to the size of a Quaffle in his left hand; though harder to toss about, given the lack of a gripping charm on the mundane spheres, they were just as effective for a bit of practice.

Reaching the pitch, Kingside - like his fellow Quidditch player - noticed the blatant firelight in the dark; though it wasn't particularly visible from a distance, Kingside had shortened the gap between he and Elijah enough that he could make out a faint silhouette lined in dim light, as well as the figure of his Captain and prefect Raine Almasy. Hey, who'd forget a figure like that, hm?

Rubbing his chin for a moment, Kingside came to the conclusion that neither of the pair had spotted him quite yet. Erring on the side of caution - Almasy was a prefect, after all, and could in theory land him in a fair load of trouble for prowling the grounds in the dead of night - Kingside quietly sleuthed his way towards the spectator stands, ducking behind a row of bleechers and flattening himself against them. He would be fairly hard to spot, and was within earshot of the duo; he might pop out, given the right circumstances, but for now would remain concealed and hope that the two would get the hell off the pitch so that he could resume his own nightly ritual of practice, practice, practice.

“Omni… evertai… conspellus…” Elijah continued to mutter under his breath as nothing happened. That’s right. Nothing. All the careful planning and sleepless nights put into making yet another botch attempt at summoning his undead father. Honestly, he didn’t really plan on it working anyway, because not only were there like a kajillion enchantments on Hogwarts that was probably blocking the ritual, but Eli didn’t even think it was possible to summon a vampire. It’s not like they were living… they were un-living. And though it’s possible to summon the dead, was it truly possible to summon the not so dead?

Eli was just about to give up and start dismantling the altar when another thought struck him. Perhaps he was saying the chant wrong… maybe if he put more of an emphasis on the second syllable instead of the first, the spell’s entire effect would be altered. With renewed vigor, the Ravenclaw wizard raised his wand above his head and proudly and loudly began his chant again causing his silky red robe to slither about his body like some insane mind contorting device.

"What on earth are you doing out here Grimlish?"

“Oh shit!” Eli yelled, caught completely off guard, “Prote-incendi-totalus!” he yelled out, pointing his wand wildly into the gloom. He wasn’t exactly sure what kind of spell he shot out, Eli was never known for his wandiness, he kinda just mixed the first three spells that came to his mind… hopefully it didn’t hit anyone. “Uh… oh hey there, Raine. What are you doing out here so late at night?” Eli asked, trying to blow out the candles before the Gryffindor Captain could figure out what kind of contraband he had out there… She surely wouldn’t like the fact that he had blood and fire on her precious field. Oops.

The spell, a flash of blazing orange, lashed out without warning. Raine was already on edge- she caught it wordlessly, wand arm raised in defence- the strange hex deflected out into the darkness of the pitch. She blinked, gaze following it before snapping back to the Ravenclaw. Something red and gold had been in the corner of her eye but she couldn't spare the attention.

That was certainly not the reaction she had expected from a friendly face; even one caught past curfew.

"Merlin's beard Grimlish," the prefect ran a hand through her curls, not moving into the pattern of candles to greet him but circling around like a creature stalking its prey. There was reason to be wary now. "Nevermind me, what is all of this?" He was attempting to put out the candles but she had already seen the blood, a telltale shade darker than the crimson of her house colours.

Elijah did not have a savoury reputation in the gossip mill. Raine generally heard about such things, though she so rarely indulged in believing them: this seemed like a confirmation of the boy's oddities.

"Not to ruin this.... picnic but you're not supposed to be here. And that blood had better not been drained from one of Hagrid's animals." Raine slowed her pace to move towards her classmate, fiery eyebrows creased into a frown- not so much in anger as in discernment. "Don't think you can get away without an explanation."

Nevermind the rules- her curiousity was showing.

A bright light broke the stillness of the dawn, and out into the darkness of the pitch turned out to be right at Kingside's sack of faux-Quaffles!

"Oi!" the Quidditch-player proclaimed; Grimlish's curious proto-curse had, interestingly enough, set the bag aflame. Kingside wrenched it from his grip reflexively, and the sack tumbled down from the stands onto the field. Inspired by the bag, the field quickly caught fire itself. Driven by instinct, Kingside drew his wand and directed it towards the fire which, if left unchecked, would likely burn the bloody pitch down.

"Aguamenti!" Kingside proclaimed, both loudly and clearly; the tip of his wand erupted with a violent jet of water, dousing the fire quickly and quietly. Moving towards the scene of the crime, Kingside inspected the sack and the ground: though badly singed, the balls were, presumably, still usable. The sack would need some mending, and the grass was mildly charred - otherwise, though, there was very little damage done. No harm, no foul!

The day thoroughly saved, it occurred to Kingside that there were still two other students nearby. He turned to look at them, broom slung over his shoulder, wand in his left hand. He eyed the pair briefly, now fully taking in the curious little seance that Grimlish had prepared.

"Moooooooornin', Raine," the young man said, neutrally, clearing his throat. "Gettin' on, then, you two, 'eh? Lovely hour fer a stroll abou' the grounds, exactly my thoughts."

“Well you see Raine, uh…” Eli began to try and formulate a plan of action while being berated by the obviously upset prefect, but nothing was coming to mind. Eli had never been the kind of guy to come up with things on the spot. Suddenly, the stands lit up with the unmistakable sound of a roaring fire and Kingside was lit up like Eli’s grandmother at Christmas. “Aphrodite’s elbow! Doesn’t ANYONE know about curfew anymore?!?” Eli bellowed, finally getting annoyed. I mean seriously, it was supposed to be a secluded night on the pitch… all alone… yeah, okay.

The explosion might have bought Eli a few seconds to come up with a new excuse, but not many. “Well, Raine, since you and apparently YOUR ENTIRE HOUSE want to know, I’m working on a project for Divination. It’s a séance, if you will. I was trying to call upon the spirit of my great aunt Tessa. It’s best done at a new moon… that’s why I’m out here tonight.” Okay… Eli didn’t even have a great aunt Tessa… And this was NOT the proper set up for a séance, but maybe the Gryffindor students wouldn’t be aware of the inner workings of the divine and wouldn’t have a clue.

“And just for the record, if you’re here to beat me up, I won’t fight you… Just make sure you don’t break any of the stuff on the altar, I borrowed most of it from the castle and I don’t exactly have the fundage to replace it…” He rambled on. It was unlikely that they were there to beat him up, but it was also unlikely that his haywire spell would set a man’s balls on fire. That sometimes made people pretty vicious… 

Grimlish had barely chocked out a complete sentence when a section of the pitch to their immediate left caught on fire, causing Raine to whirl around with her wand on the defence again- this time needlessly. It was only Kingside.

Wait, no, not only Kingside. While it would normally be admirable to catch her players slipping on to the field for a practice session, this was an unfortunate circumstance. Why in Salazar's rotten name he would practice now (while apparently trying to pass the late evening for dusk) of all times was beyond the Quidditch Captain.

The Ravenclaw trespasser was less restrained with his opinion on the matter.

Raine's eyebrows disappeared up into her messy fringe of curls as she stared at Elijah with diverted eyes. Merlin. She had a fairly solid appreciation for her abilities as a student but a Gryffindor house consisting of simply herself and Kingside would be a poor house indeed. Smirking at the idea, she made a gesture at her housemate to come in closer before glancing back at Grimlish.

"Take a breath," Raine started wryly. "If you say it's a divination project, it's a divination project. I still have to put a word in with Levartian later... for both of you." Even if it was displeasing for points to be taken off from Gryffie. Care would have to be taken in phrasing her own presence. "Nobody is here to beat up anyone but I will be sorely tempted to hex your head off if you don't start clearing this-" she waved at the candles, blood "- up right now."

This was going to be a good story for the prefect meetings, at the least.

"Your mess too, Kingside." Raine cocked an eyebrow at the other wizard. It wasn't really his fault that Eli's spell had gone awry but... "I'll help. We certainly can't leave it like this or Hooch will have our brooms before breakfast."

"Wait just a tick, Cap'n," Kingside shot back hotly, clearly displeased. "Yer gonna go'n tattle on us - might I ask what you might be doin' out here at this late hour, 'eh? Whot kinda fib ye gonna give ter Levartian about why you was out 'n' about, 'eh?" The young Chaser crossed his arms, glaring at his Quidditch Captain. Surely she didn't expect him to accept a reprimanding - perhaps detention, perhaps even being cut from the bloody team! - for committing the very same infraction as she.

"If yer abou' te condemn me'n'Grimlish," he continued, "I reckon ye best let Levartian in on the likkle fact that ye were prowling about the bloody pitch at an ungodly hour yerself." At this, Kingside shook his broom indignantly; "An', might I add, no even for somethin' as important as Quidditch."

With a glance at Elijah, Kingside added, "Or whatever the bloomin' hell Grimlish is doin'."

No! Eli couldn't clean up now, that simply was not an option. Just because Eli didn't think the ritual would work didn't mean that he could just give up! His father was out there waiting on him somewhere... He had to keep trying. Plus, if he missed the opportunity tonight, he had to wait a complete month just to try again. That was just unacceptable. Then again, just the presence of his two classmates probably ruined the ritual and his insistence on staying was purposeless. "Uh... Raine... I kinda need to finish the project tonight. There's not another new moon for a while and the project is due next week. Think you could let it slide this one time?" He pleaded.

"Plus, Kingside's right, you shouldn't be out here either... and I never ever get in trouble, so if you tell on me... when I have a perfectly good, scholarly excuse for being out here, I may get a slap on the wrist... but if you get caught out here... not on patrol... well after hours... and you being a prefect and quidditch captain and all... well that's not going to look too good..." Eli stuttered through his semi-threat, made much less intimidating by his shaky voice and trembling knees. The young Ravenclaw was certainly more terrified of his fellow classmates than the professors. "Perhaps you guys should both just clean up Kingside's mess and scurry along. I'll be fine out here alone and I won't tell anyone that we were out here. Promise."

They weren't going to make this easy, were they?

It would have been easy enough to dismiss Kingside's accusation, easy even to avoid reporting his curfew-break... on the other hand they had run into one another in a most disastrous manner and she could hardly avoid the fact. He seemed to ready to assume she was out for no good reason. If either of them knew of her animagus form, Raine might have been worried but fortunately they did not, and she could assume that this was their fear talking.

Grimlish made a more pointed threat (if one could call it that).

Folding her arms coolly, the Gryffindor prefect tilted her head to the side and gave both boys a narrowed gaze.

"I came out to fetch something I'd forgotten in the lockers," she lied, unblinking, after a moment's pause. "You should know that I am letting this slide. I'm not going to ask Professor Cosmos if she really has given out seance assignments, for one..." Divination was not one of her subjects but she had her doubts about the validity of this ritualistic set-up.

"And," this directed at her Chaser in a lower tone: "I am most certainly not telling anyone that we've set the pitch on fire. As far as I'm concerned, you were both out a little later than usual, catching quaffles." It was unlikely the punishment for that would be severe, at least not as severe as the reality of their rule-breaking.
 
Raine let her arms fall, one hand in pocket and the other twirling her wand thoughtfully.

"You can go ahead and squeal on me to Levartian if you think it will get you anywhere," she smiled very faintly with a forced sense of calmness. If they did, it would mean prodding another prefect into a little white lie but Raine didn't mind that; ever since being caught by Landis, she never came out without a contingency plan. "I can cover my own tracks with her. Something tells me neither of you can say the same..."

"Pfah," rebutted Kingside.

"Twasn't fixin' t'go tattlin' on ye, love. No' quite my style." Crossing his arms with a frown, Kingside turned his gaze 'pon yonder troublemaker; Grimlish did seem a might eager to shoo the pair away. Why, exactly, would a professor assign homework that would require his or her students to break school rules, 'eh? That just didn't make sense!

"'for we g'on about our businesses," the Chaser mused aloud, "a'd like t'know what ye were really doin', bub. No' that a'm tryin' te pry, or anythin', but yer no' such a good liar, t'be frank. Iffin yer gonna go about, messin' up our pitch, a' wouldn' mind an explanation with a bit more truth in it."

Staring at Elijah, Kingside patiently awaited the open and honest explanation that was surely forthcoming!

Ack! Elijah really was a bad liar. And these Gryffindor fools didn't seem to want to give it up. Maybe it was time for Eli to change tactics. Maybe he should just clean up his 'mess' and circle back after everyone cleared the pitch, or maybe he could find a more secluded spot for his nighttime shenaniganisms. "Alright, I'll clean up and leave," Eli began, and swirled his wand in the air while muttering a quick cleaning spell. He watched in silence as the blood slowly drained from the goblet and the mess around their feet dissolved into the earth. Then he looked over to Kingside's mess as the Gryffindor Quidditch buff began drilling him about what he was really out there doing.

He wiped his sweaty palms on his robes as he tried to come up with a normal response, he was caught, that much was obvious. Now he needed to know what he was going to do to get out of the mess he'd gotten himself in. He looked up into the night sky and blinked at the stars staring back at him, and let out a long sigh. "Okay, here's what it is. I was trying to summon my pops." He said. The game was up, it wasn't like either of these two were going to be his friend anyway, they already saw him as public enemy number one for messing up their precious pitch. "He's a vampire, and I really want to see him, just for closure and stuff. I haven't seen him since... well I don't think I've ever seen him, but I need to, because it's not right to have a kid and then dump him forever." Eli finished, defeated, and his head drooped to stare at the ground. Oh well... who needs friends anyway?

Raine tried not to let it show that she was relieved to know neither of the boys would be telling on her; she shrugged indifferently to their willingness to finally clean up the field, pleased that they could relax slightly- it was rather unlikely that anybody else would happen about them now and perhaps Kingside was right to question their classmate about the details of his... assignment.

Personally, the prefect could care less for the extreme eccentrics of Hogwarts. She was on the verge of saying so when Elijah breathed out a long, weary sigh. A sigh of confession. Something else to add to her late night tale?

No. His dad. It wasn't as ridiculous as she thought: now, summoning a demon or a creature, that might have been entertaining to explain but this wasn't in the least bit. Her eyes lowered their defensive glimmer, staring straight at Grimlish with a sort of muted consideration. She almost felt bad that Kingside had asked at all.

"Parents can... ah, be like that." Raine broke the silence the ensuing silence, expression blank. "I suppose it doesn't make a difference if they're human or vampire. Some things are universal." Her own father had been abandoned by a parent, something that had cast him out from his family as a bastard. Attempting to imagine that absence was difficult and she wondered if it was anything like losing a sister, or perhaps more like losing a sister you had never known.

That line of thought dwindled away quickly. Raine glanced down at the grassy earth where the blood had been only a minute ago and looked back up, smirking dryly.

"You're an odd one, Grimlish," she shook her head. "The quidditch pitch, of all places? You'd have had better luck dangling a blood-flavoured lollipop out of the library window."

The trio, it seemed, were - all three - at least somewhat experienced in parental loss.

"Righ'," Kingside replied, mirroring Raine's feeling of regret at having prodded Elijah in the first place. On one hand, the boy was sitting here doing his best to conjure up a presumably dangerous creature - and who was to say that his father wouldn't be particularly irate upon being snatched away to the Hogwarts Quidditch pitch? He might even be less than thrilled to see his son - who knew?

"Outta curiosity," he quizzed, "Why haven' ye jus' gone to th'headmaster? A' mean, if ye wanna see yer da', a'm sure he'd be sympathetic, aye? Ye always got friends here, ye know, even if it's jus' the bloke runnin' the place."

Almost off-handedly, Kingside about-faced and gestured with his wand towards the half-dozen or so Quaffle substitutes scattered about; they promptly collected themselves together and rushed to join the Gryffindor Chaser, burnt net in tow. With another flick of his wrist, the net consumed the spheres and neatly knit itself together once more. Crisis averted! The pitch would not be plagued by any questionable litter when dawn broke.