Early Morning

Xavier stumbled over the road leading to the wizarding village. He had no real destination in mind he just knew he needed to get away, away from everything. Away from his family, away from Peyton and Bella and most importantly away from Callum. If he had stuck around after their fight life would become hell for him. There was no way the other Slytherin was going to let it go, let him forget about how poorly he fought and how easily Callum had overpowered him.

Callum slamming his head down on the stone floor had been enough to make him dizzy but then being Petrified and knocked out, the humiliation was palpable and Xavier couldn't handle it. When he finally came too none of his room mates had come to bed yet but he didn't think he could have made it out of the Slytherin house without being noticed. So instead he crawled under his bed and waited until everyone was asleep then he made his escape.

In his third year one of the older students had showed him a bunch of passage ways out of the castle. He pulled himself together as much as he could. He couldn't even remember how he had actully gotten off of school grounds but once he did he knew he'd be going straight to Hogsmeade even if he had no idea where to go from there.

He had pulled off his sweater and tie, anything that would have pegged him as a Hogwarts student. Unfortunately that meant he had gotten rid of most of his protection against the elements - considering he hadn't had the mind to remember to grab his cloak on the way out. Wearing just a pair of slacks and a dress shirt, his arms wrapped around his chest in a feeble attempt to keep warm Xavier trudged through the snow down main street.

He hadn't gotten a chance to actually look at himself but he knew he had never looked worse. Aside from the circles under his eyes and the pale conplexion from not taking care of himself Callum had left quite a mark on him. His nose was broken and blood had dried down the majority of his face. His jaw had been cracked and his tooth chipped from one of the early punches. His left eye had closed up from the swelling and his left eyebrow had split. His face in general was beginning to look like one big bruise. Most of the wounds had stopped bleeding but he hadn't bothered to try and clean up the blood.

The early morning sun was starting to crest over the horizon as Xavier made it to the heart of Hogsmeade. He could barely see and he was frozen to the bone. He began to waver, the exhaustion and lack of care for himself catching up to him. He felt dizzy and dropped to his knees. With his head swimming the world began to spin and he felt himself hit the hard cobblestone, cushioned only by the amount of snow that was still on the ground. It wasn't long before the blackness claimed him.

The fog was clinging to the quaint village rooftops and the grass was covered in dew.  The sun had only recently poked its great golden head over the horizon.  Not many people were around on the streets of Hogsmeade this early, save the shopkeepers opening up and a few early strollers (or perhaps late-night drinkers still), though the morning fires were being lit and smoke from the chimneys was curling up into a cold sky.  Birds were chirping, an owl flew in from the night's hunt here and there, and Dazmond Wiedman's boots sounded on the cobblestones.

She had just apparated in, having quietly dodged out of the flat where Nathan now slept, a busy day brewing in her mind and her galleon pouch at hand for gathering ingredients needed for a few new projects.  What she hadn't anticipated was the big dark lump in the center of the square between Dervish and Scrivenshaft's.  She caught it first out of the corner of her eye and had to slow her pace as she registered the fact that it had to have been a body.  A look to the left and a look to the right and a casual spin around and -- no one was watching.  Good for her curiosity.  Good for the fact that the Ministry was getting awfully suspicious of her activities. 

Quickly she sped over on tip-toes and leaned over the body slightly -- not, mind, with the air of a concerned citizen, but with that of a highly nosey being.  One found bodies in the middle of the street all the time in Knockturn -- not so much in Hogsmeade. 

She nudged it with her foot.

It was breathing, and it was a young boy, but he had been so badly done in that Dazmond, for several moments, was completely unaware that this was -- she knelt down for a better look --

"...Xavier?" 

Then, as if hit in the back with a mallet, Dazmond dropped hard to her knees and, clutching him at his shoulder and the collar of his clothes, hoisted the boy onto her lap frantically and not without some effort.

"Xavier!  Xavier!"  She shook him, cradled his head like a crazed mother, scattered the bottled contents of her bag beside them on the cobbles and fingered through her potions with shaking hands.  But there was nothing there for the job.  And so working with rather than against her wand as she was learning gradually to do, she channeled Aguamenti and covered him in a steady stream of gelid water, still clutching and shouting at him like a madwoman in the middle of Hogsmeade on that early Wednesday morning.

Xavier heard someone calling his name as if from very far away. He had found himself in that weightless area somewhere between awake and asleep. His mind was foggy and begging for him to sleep some more. It had been so long since he let himself rest that his body screamed in protest as he followed the voice back to a state of alertness. He gingerly opened his right eye, his left one having been too swollen to actually open. He stared up at the vision in front of him. With the morning sun cresting over the roof tops Dazmond looked as though she were wearing a halo. An angel in the middle of Hogsmeade. He let a soft smile curl his lips convinced he had just awoken into another dream, since in all honesty it wasn't that unusual for him to dream of the potions mistress.

"Daz." His voice was soft yet hoarse, parched from not having taken anything in in over twelve hours. His body was still half asleep, sore from vigorous and relentless workouts mixed with limited sleep and barely any nutrition. Xavier's depression had gotten the best of him as he had simply given up on taking care of himself although matched with the bruises and cuts on his face it was likely that to an outsider like Dazmond he had been beaten within an inch of his life.

He tried to sit up but found the effort to be too much and instead rested his head back into her arm. It took him quite a while to realize he wasn't dreaming. If he had been dreaming it wouldn't be so cold, nor would his stomach feel like it was caving in on itself and he'd likely be able to open his left eye, "Wha 'appened? Werr am I?"

Her feet were soaked and freezing. The bottoms of her dark jeans were in the same shape as her feet. She tried to warm herself slightly by pulling her cloak around her, but it was in vain. The soft velvet folds were not made to keep her warm, they were made to hide her in darkness. Fighting onward through the large snowdrifts, Demitria knew she had no choice but to keep going. Her body was progressively slowing down and she wondered why she was following the bloody footprints in the snow. Why had she bothered? Why?

A rustle echoed through the empty hallway had made the darkly clothed figure stop in her tracks. Was there anyone around? No! There couldn’t be. She was positive by that hour of the early morning everyone had gone to bed. Falling asleep in the room of requirement was a risky move, but somehow, she had managed to do it and now she had to get back quickly before any of the other girls in her dorm woke up. She had guessed they probably knew about her night-time sojourns, but if she stayed out all night, there was no way she could keep gossip from leaking out of the dorms.

Breathing out slowly, Strellie continued through the dark dungeon hallway, her felt ballet flats making no sound on the stone floor. She finally reached the corridor that led to the common room, but once again she stopped. This time, it was not because of a sound, but because of the metallic tang of blood in the air. Her eyes opened wide and she barely let herself move. Her jade irises scanned the area fervently, trying to identify the source. Then she had seen the little droplets on the floor. They led down the other fork, towards the kitchen, and then disappeared in shadows.

She had cast a quick scourgify over the blood in the hallway- loathing that anyone else would find it in the same state- and followed the trail. It was very fresh. She had followed it down twists and turns until she couldn’t figure out where she was. Suddenly, cold air hit her face and she was outside. About 300 meters away was a young man with brown hair tousled by wind. He was walking away from her, but Strellie had automatically known who it was. Xavier. Xavier Tawse. Who else would be in such a terrible state? Throwing caution to the wind, she had bolted after him, calling his name. What was he doing? Where was he going? Why was he bleeding so much? She needed to know.

Yet, her calling was to no avail as he kept walking as if in a dream-like state. Demitria was loosing sight of him. In the foggy blend of morning and night, he seemed to only be moving further away. So lost in her thoughts, she didn’t even see the rock half buried under the snow until she had gone sprawling. She picked herself back up gingerly and tried to follow, but her light clothing made her shut down on herself. Strellie wondered how Xavier was even walking in a straight line.

Her feet were soaking and freezing. Why had she even bothered? Why? She didn’t know why, but she had to figure out what was the matter. He was, dare she say it, a friend and she had never let a hurt friend be alone. Her vision blurred. Pure pain was shooting from her snow and ice covered feet. She was sure they were frostbitten. She had lost sight of Xavier what had seemed hours ago, but now, the footprints in the snow were getting slower and shakier. She was certain she would find him soon.

The misty villiage rose into her sightline and her feet finally gave out from the abuse they were receiving. She tumbled down the last hilly slope, yelping as her long cloak tangled around her. When she pulled the sopping velvet from her face she saw him. She saw him hanging nearly limp in the arms of someone she had seen before, but never really paid attention to. She saw him and was thankful he still seemed to be alive.     

He looked like he had been splinched into a hundred pieces and put back together with spell-o-tape.  He started flinching under her stream of water and Dazmond fussily spelled him dry again.

As he came to, mumbling, Dazmond's hysterical concern morphed into disapproval and she scowled, looking a little like a peeved Mrs. Weasley.  "What d'you mean what's happened," she snapped.  That's what she was supposed to ask!  She looked him over, a pile of bones in a limp sack of meat in her lap, and wondered at the state of the revolution if all her go-to men were falling down. 

"You're in Hogsmeade," she said, a little annoyed.  But then she looked at him again and felt the shame of her own failure to remember thrown back on her a bit.  All of the questions she could have asked him, they were no good now.

"We've gotta get you back to the school," she said firmly.  She could only assume this was all a result of sneaking out the night before, that whoever had done this, it had occurred right here at this spot.  Or perhaps the forest.  "We'll get you to the hospital hut," she continued.  "I think I've got...," she turned her attention to the vials scattered beside her on the cobbles.  "I've got a steroid," she said, starting to reach for it awkwardly with her free hand and not noticing the girl stumbling toward them from a ways off. 

"No way you're getting up without it," she said.  "Less I levitate you.  Salazar, what a mess!  Don't you remember anything, Xav?"  Her fingers closed around a little tagged glass vial containing a red transparent liquid.  She turned back to him, her brow furrowed.

If he could have he would have winced at the expression on Dazmond's face. She was looking at him like he was a little kid caught with his hand in the Every Flavoured Beans Jar, like he had done something wrong. Sure, he wasn't supposed to have run away from school but he had a very valid reason for leaving. He couldn't fully remember right now but he knew it was a very valid reason.

"We've gotta get you back to the school,"

Back to school? No! No, he couldn't go back. Not now, he was so close to getting out. There was nothing that could make him go back. Xavier panicked and tried to flail. He rolled to the side off of her lap and onto his chest. He gasped as the cold ground touched his barely clothed chest. He tried to get back to his back, "No, I ain't eva goin' back." With a large heave he pushed himself onto his back obviously exhausted, his eyes fluttered again threatening to pull him back into unconsciousness.

"I jus, don' make me go back." He looked up to her with his one good eye, catching movement behind her. He tilted his head to see the other woman heading towards them, "Strellie." He breathed out, surprised by how happy he was to see the Russian Slytherin, "Snark's gonna haf yer head, wha ye doin' out 'ere?"

Demitria slowly picked herself up off the ground, every inch of her body soaked. Her normally perfect hair hung wet around her pale face and her velvet cloak dripped frigid water. She didn’t even try wrapping herself up against the light wind that danced in the snowy landscape. Finally, she forced her feet to take her the last hundred meters to where Xavier and the other woman were.

Strellie

Her mind whirled. Wasn’t, just a moment before, Tawse in the other woman’s lap? Now he was on the ground, looking all the world like he was going to have a panic attack. Still, the moment he said her name an expression of relief washed the prior panic away. The young Russian winced. When she was close enough to see Xavier’s face, she nearly fainted. It was far worse than she could’ve imagined.

Snark’s gonna haf yer head, wha ye doin’ out ‘ere.

Demitria had to blink a few times before she could understand what her classmate had said. With the combination of mind-numbing cold, lack of sleep, his already heavy accent, and injury slurring his speech, the tiny girl could barely make out the sentence. Before answering, she quickly sat down on the slushy ground before her legs gave out again. Her eyes quickly scanned over the other woman. Obviously, whoever she was, she cared, so there was no threat at the moment. She turned her attention back to Xavier.

“I sort of followed you. You can’t expect me to just watch as you, in this state, walk away. As for Snark,” Strellie frowned deeply. “I’ll deal with that when the time comes. Also, she’ll have your head just as much as mine.”

When she finished speaking, the Russian Slytherin barely resisted the urge to chuckle. Her speech was only slightly less impaired than Tawse’s. She looked over him and her face fell. She didn’t know what to do. Subconsciously, her gaze turned to the other witch with a plea for help. Consciously, she sat on the ground, twisting her limp hair in vain.

What was this?  He'd suddenly sprung back to life enough to start flailing around like a fish out of water.  Dazmond lifted her hands up as he flopped off her lap.

"What?" 

Xavier mumbled fervently about the school, about how he wasn't going back, and Dazmond squinshed her eyes together, leaning in a smidgen, completely perplexed.  He wasn't making the slightest bit of sense.  Going to the school for help was about the smartest thing they could have done.  The way he was making it out, you'd think Lord Voldemort was back on campus.  But the boy was adamant, and Daz could play along.

"Okay, alright," she said, "whatever.  It's just you --"

The boy was talking nonsense.  He must have hit his nog real hard.  What the hell was 'Strellie' supposed to mean?  Dazmond shook her head, about to take the lead on his evacuation from the public arena when she realized he was actually talking to someone.  Behind her.

Dazmond whipped her head around, mane of red and black locks whipping over her shoulder.  It was some student, little thing, soaked wet!  What the hell was going on!  Ignoring the comments about Analiza, who was somewhat of a friend of Dazmond's, she watched as the girl carefully joined them at their level and tried to get the sop out of her locks.

"Do you know what happened to him?" she asked, very direct-like.  "You two better come with me.  Back to Knockturn.  Before people start asking questions and drag your arse back to where you apparently don't wanna go.  I can get you fixed up, yeah?  Are you okay to side-along, Xav?"

Going back to Knockturn with Dazmond was the best suggestion he had heard in a long time. While others may have been frightened at the prospect or cringed at the thought of having to enter the forbidden-esque alley in London Xavier was overjoyed (well as overjoyed as he could currently muster which happened to only come out as a half lopsided grin) Going back to Knockturn was like going home and doing it with Dazmond was a dream come true.

He tried to lift himself up again but his body screamed in protest. He was in desperate need of some sleep, "Yeah should be fine ta side along."

His cold grey blue eyes landed on Demetria and he sighed. He was actually rather touched that she had followed him out here, trudging through the freezing snow in the middle of the night just because she was concerned for him. It made him wonder if Bella would have done the same. Thinking of his girlfriend was almost as painful as trying to sit up again, "Ye comin wit us?" He looked from one woman to the next. It didn't seem right to just leave Strellie out here in the middle of Hogsmeade after she had gone through so much to make sure he was okay. Then again if she left with him there would be hell to pay for both of them. At this point Xavier didn't care, there was nothing that could get him to go back but Strellie was a good student with a promising future. She could be jeopardizing everything if she went off with them.

It didn’t occur to her that she would have to make a choice. When she had originally followed Xavier out of the castle, she hadn’t been thinking. She had been reacting. Suddenly, thought was forced upon her and she wasn’t ready for it. Her surroundings became colder and the water that hung on her seemed more frigid than before. She was hypersensitive to her surroundings, the rising sun, the splattered blood on the ground. Anything that kept her from thinking of the choice she had to make. She sighed.

“I-I don’t know… I don’t know if I can.”

It was the honest truth. Strellie’s large green eyes were wide and vaguely frightened. If she left, her schooling would be all for nothing. Her future would be forfeit. She wanted to go. She wanted to follow through on this mad venture she had started, but she couldn’t. It wasn’t time to run away yet. She had tried that once and she had only ended up scarred beyond belief. The deciding factor for her was her mother. She couldn’t just fall off the face of the earth. Her poor fragile mother would shatter into a thousand pieces. 

“Will you come back?” the tiny Russian looked desperately at Xavier. She had come to trust him oddly and didn’t know what would happen if he didn’t go back to school. “You know, I never showed you the piano.” Her expression softened slightly and she smiled a little.

Xavier made an attempt to nod. He understood and he definitely didn't blame her. She was going to be in enough trouble just for following him out here, if she left with him she'd never be able to go back and even if she did she'd likely be expelled. Strellie didn't belong here and she knew it, Xavier wasn't about to force her to do something she didn't want to. She needed to go back to school, they all knew it.

He coughed out a chuckle and gave her a half lop sided grin, reaching out to take hold of her hand, "I'll come back someday, if only ta see ye." He winked with his one good eye sort of diminishing the effect it had. He wasn't entirely sure why he had said it. After all he was still technically dating Bella though he supposed once he left he'd have to do something about that. He just felt that it was what she wanted, what she needed to hear.

He turned his head to Dazmond and let out a long breath, fighting the numbness of sleep deprivation, "Les git outta here, yeah?"

Dazmond fell back a pitch, watching their exchange a little warily.  "Yeah, alright -- anyone wanna tell me what in the bleeding hell happened, first?"  She shifted her weight and started gathering her jars and bottles and herbal bundles back into her bag. 

Daz sighed deeply to expel some of the fiery anxiety that had been welled up in her from finding Xavier in this state, and pushed the weirdness of the thing with the little Russian girl to the back of her mind -- the obvious feelings of teenage angst between them and her own allegiances threatening to lay down judgement; she could encourage him toward Bellatrix but never interfere in any real way.  She was a sort of surrogate Aunt, not a match maker.

A Wizard had just come out one of the shops and was stopped, looking over at them as if uncertain whether he should approach or not.  "All sorted mate," called Dazmond breezily.  "Run along now, yeah."  She turned to the others a bit impatient with what she felt was bumbling, and said, "Right well, if that's all, up with you, eh?" 

Dazmond swung his arm over her shoulder and grunted, coaxing him to gradually stand -- no easy task considering that the teenager was already one and a half times her size.

After the fond fairwells or whatever, Dazmond thought she'd take him to the far end of Knockturn, where they'd get into Dom's flat and make use of the stash of first aid brews and salves she kept in a cabinet for her danger-loving sibling, who was likely out at practice. 

Daz was getting damn near professional at patching up broken boys, she wagered.

The sun began to peek over the horizon at the sleepy village. Other than her large, pleading eyes, Demitria’s face had become emotionless. She had to figure out how to get back to school before breakfast, so her mind began frantically working. Then cold fingers touched hers and she started. If her eyes could’ve been any larger, they would’ve been. Xavier never ceased to surprise her.

 "I'll come back someday, if only ta see ye."

As Xavier winked, Strellie’s face fell. She didn’t believe him. Why had she even asked? She knew that she would probably not see him again unless Jaska happened to take her along to Knockturn one day. Other than that, it was highly unlikely. Her cheeks flushed a little and she bit her lip. Sliding her hand out of his, she began to stand. The other woman was scuffing her feet a little ways away. Strellie had never been one to trust without reason, so it was difficult to just walk away, leaving Xavier with her, but since Tawse seemed to trust the older woman, she would have to too.

She sighed and looked warily at the rising sun. The other woman helped Xavier up and Strellie felt the desperate need to grab her broom and fly away. She never said goodbye. Ever.

“Well, I’ll see you around.”

Turning away from the two, she headed towards Honeydukes. She knew of a passage in the cellars that lead into Hogwarts. She began shivering again. As an afterthought, she turned around and said,

 “Do svidaniya.”

Hopefully neither of the two British knew Russian. She wasn’t supposed to change that easily.

Xavier let Dazmond pull him up. He leaned heavily in on her shoulder using her small frame to support his weight. He was so tired. He desperately needed to get a proper sleep in a real bed. He sighed and watched Demetria head back to school secretly hoping she didn't get in too much trouble for all of this. She was a good kid and didn't deserve to get suspended or anything just because of him.

He looked over to Dazmond and offered a lop sided grin, "We cin go now luv." He closed his eyes for a long moment. He knew that as soon as they got to wherever they were going he would have to explain everything to her. He'd have to tell her about running into his father before Christmas and his fight with Peyton, all the fights he had picked at the BC causing Cin to send him home and his rigorous work out routine since coming back to school that accounted for most of his current state then there was his massive blow out with Callum. Hopefully she'd understand why he couldn't go back, after all she had already agreed to take him back to Knockturn.