Killian Dracel

in your eyes, all the sadness of the world

18 posts in this topic

Observation, they called it. With the first task over and the fate of his team's success hanging in the balance, Killian was carted off to the hospital wing on a magically floating cot. It was embarrassing, really. He could walk, he could talk. Perhaps he was a little tired and had one heck of a fever, but otherwise, he could still handle himself just fine.

 

Protests, meet deaf ears. Observation, pfft. Really, no one had any idea which spider it was that had bit him, just yet.

 

His Aunt Lian had come and gone, telling him to get some rest and let her know how his team faired in the end. What a stark contrast she was in comparison to her wife, Darcie.

 

At some point he dozed off; tossed and turned a little.

 

Opening his eyes, he noted the sun was near setting, and that his clothes had been switched from the muddy sports gear to soft and clean hospital wing pants and shirt. He felt marginally better, though, which was a good sign. He turned his head against the pillow the other way and nearly startled himself out of the bed.

 

"Oi! Make some noise next time or something!" Then, he narrowed his eyes. "What are you doing here?"

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Damaris had wanted to throw up through most of the first task. First, it had been because Marisha had kept on about how the students in the tournament were probably being made to fight each other, and she'd had horrible thoughts of all the spells that Killian may have been subjected to. While the feeling had subsided after she'd met Killian's Aunt Lian, it had returned again when the task ended, and she had begun to hear about all the horrible injuries that other students had incurred in the tournament. One girl had been knocked out cold, another boy had his knees reversed by his own teammate, which was a horrifying thought to her. And once she had heard that Killian had been transferred to the Hospital Wing--along with the word poison--she rushed to the Wing as quickly as could. The tent on the ground was mobbed with injured students, and she had a feeling that they wouldn't appreciate questions from a student who hadn't been in the tournament nor injured, so she took matters into her own hands.

 

The sun was beginning to set before she managed to get into the Wing. There were a couple of other students there whom Damaris suspected had also been transferred. Or maybe they were just ill, Damaris didn't know and frankly, she didn't really care. She had cussed out several older students in Greek, bribed another to show her the way (because apparently, it would kill them to be helpful), and when she finally reached Killian he appeared to have fallen asleep.

 

"You're such an idiot, you know? Marisha kept telling me that everyone was probably dueling in those stupid houses and the school couldn't even spring for a decent view? You were poisoned? What are you, some kind of Gryffindor?" After she had bopped him on the head with the rolled up copy of Witch Weekly that she'd carried with her to the stands she realized that she'd said everything to him in very rapid Greek. 

 

She took a breath. "Sorry," she said, both for forgetting English and bopping him on the head with her magazine. "Marisha said that everyone was fighting each other in those stupid house things, and then I heard you were poisoned, but I couldn't get into the hospital tent--did you know that there was this girl that like, got knocked out cold--this other boy got his knees reversed. By his teammate.

 

"And then I heard you were transferred anyway so now I'm here," she nodded gravely. "I had to make sure you were okay, if you left me here with River, Griffin, Ryan, and all of them I would never forgive you."

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"Ow!" Killian grumbled, raising his hand to his head to rub at the sore spot. "Abuse!" He was about to comment that he didn't know what the hell language she was speaking, but he decided to just wait her out, because he rather liked the way she was speaking at him. Then she stopped, as if she realized what she had done and apologized, which earned her a small smile, because that was all he could muster at the moment. His hand came down from rubbing his head, and he noticed for the first time the red bracelet he was wearing with his name on it, accompanied by the word Patient.

 

He remembered seeing all the injured parties in the medical tent once the task was over, and Killian raised his eyebrows, wondering if it was true, that everyone was dueling in their respective rooms. "Nothing like that happened in my room," he commented, trying to recall all the details in their entirety. "But that would have been a really cool task. I mean, I'm pretty fast, y'know? I bet I coulda taken them all in that environment."

 

His hand reached for his neck, feeling a cooling cloth there where he recalled the sharp sting of the spider's bite. "Yeah," he said. "Poisoned."

 

Then, Killian fixed her with a calculating stare. "Why 'Aris," he feigned, "you do care about me."

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She felt bad for hitting him over the head when he was poisoned in the Hospital Wing, but felt that it was deserved at the same time, because what Slytherin jumped into a vague tournament where no one was given any information on the challenges they would face? And considering the fact that the Hospital Wing tent on the grounds had been flooded with students immediately after, it was not surprising that there had been few Slytherins on the sign up. They just knew better, she thought. “You deserved it, didn’t you know I would be worried?” Though she’d added that bit in Greek again. 

 

“Right, English,” she took a breath as Killian explained that no one in his room had been dueling each other. That was a relief to know, though she wished the school had been more specific. “They just had one commentator. Most of the time we were watching nothing. It was horrible, no one knew what was going on.

 

“Probably not against one of the Head Girls,” she said thoughtfully, though she supposed it was beside the point. “Or that weird older Prefect who I heard attacked one of his teammates. But like Griffin, yeah.” 

 

That probably wasn’t the most comforting thing in the world to say, but it helped distract her from how worried she had been over the past several hours.

 

She looked right back at him, unmoved by his stare. “Of course I was worried, Kill. Duh. This is the kind of thing Gryffindors do.”

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"Oh, for the love of Merlin," Killian said in Italian as she started going off on him in Greek again. "If you want a language war, I can give you a language war." Of course, he wasn't serious, because Italian was actually kinda hard for him. He could speak it, and he was fluent enough, but he couldn't write it, and wasn't comfortable holding a long-winded conversation in another language. "Kinda pointless," he mused, "having spectators and not letting them see anything. Sounds like prefects turning on their own teams would have been a good show."

 

He grinned to himself. He could picture it, the team captain turning on someone like Griffin and knocking him out or something. "I dunno, I think I could take on a few of the prefects." Of course, he was living in a fantasy world at the moment, but he had a fever and that was allowed. Maybe.

 

"My team captain was a bit of a tosser, really. He didn't listen to me. The books were the clues! It's like he never played a video game in his life or something." Oh. Said too much there. Said too much. Didn't matter. Here was Damaris saying duh to him, and he had to laugh. "You just said you're a Gryffindor. Gryffindors worry. Awww. You worried about me."

 

Sobering, he looked at her. "How--uh. How did I do?"

 

Post 400, bby


Edited by Killian Dracel

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She didn’t realize that he spoke Italian, but while she had a feeling that she could go on in Greek for much longer (she had, after all, been born there, lived there until about a year and a half earlier, and still spoke Greek to her mother), but it was, after all, probably not helpful to go on in a language he didn’t understand.

 

Damaris nodded in agreement. “This school is so cheap,” she added, “I wonder if any of the parents will take legal action against the school. Some of those injuries sounded pretty horrible.”

 

When he said that there were some prefects he would have been able to take on, she raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, sure,” maybe if the prefect hadn’t ever set foot in the Dueling Chamber their entire Hogwarts career, but she left that part off, because all things considered he had been poisoned and was stuck in the Hospital Wing for who knew how long.

 

She was relieved too that while his captain had apparently been a 'tosser' he wasn't psycho like she suspected one of the prefects was. She didn't know how to comment on that, but simply nodded along.

 

But when he pointed it that it sounded as though she had just called herself a Gryffindor she narrowed her eyes at him. "You know that isn’t what I meant—it’s a Gryffindor thing to jump into a tournament where you have no idea what you might face. Of course I was worried." 

 

When he asked her how he'd done, her heart sank a little. That was the worst part, because she knew that stuck under hospital wing supervision he probably didn't know. She frowned and looked away for a moment before looking back at him. What was the most tactful way to say this?

 

"I'm sorry, Kill," she shook her head, which said enough. 

 


Edited by Damaris Denton

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"Lookit you," he teased. "It's like you actually care." Killian managed a smile when Damaris started to defend what she said. Of course he knew that wasn't what she meant, but it was nice to be able to push her buttons like this. "I never thought of it as a Gryffindor thing," he said after a moment. His thoughts had turned to the pensive sort. "I didn't do it for the thrill or danger, y'know? I did it for... well," he let out a long sigh and shook his head. "It doesn't matter. She didn't even show up."

 

He'd wanted to impress Darcie, show her that he was worthy, and instead of showing up to support him, she probably stayed at home with a glass of wine, not even giving him a second thought other than to dream about what she would have turned his bedroom into if he hadn't been dumped on her doorstep.

 

Damaris managed to break the news without saying the exact words. His team didn't make it. They were eliminated from the competition, so perhaps on some level, it was a good thing his Aunt Darcie didn't show up. Now Lian could go home and break the news to her and Killian wouldn't have to see the look on her face.

 

Killian looked away from his friend, swallowing thickly. He'd gone into it with certain expectations, and now he was eliminated and everything changed. "That sucks." he muttered, putting on his best tough guy act. "Whatever. Doesn't even matter, anyway. Thanks for coming."

 

The tone of dismissal.

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300 <3

 

"Fine, but if I get poisoned and you don't show up, I'm going to start being nice to Finnigan and Wolfe," she threatened, though the idea of being friends with them made her feel a little sick to her stomach. She was sure that they would show up for her in the Hospital Wing, mostly because they were a little creepy and seemed to follow her around in general. 

 

She didn't even show up. Damaris blinked at the phrase, remembering the look on Killian's aunt's face when she'd asked if she was his mum. She wanted to ask for clarification, but somehow that just seemed inappropriate. He was already stuck in the Wing because of a poisonous spider bite, and she'd just told him that his team had been eliminated. Pilling on and asking who he was referring to--his mum? Someone else? seemed like a bad idea. She filed the question away for later.

 

She recognized his tone, mostly because it was the same one that her mother used whenever she'd asked questions about her dad. We got married a year before you were born. He was also from Santorini. Dinner will be ready soon. She pursed her lips. "Right," she said. "They're probably going to kick me out anyway."

 

She took a couple steps back, wondering if she should say anything else or just leave. "I know that tone. You can use it today, but not again. I'll see you when you get out."  

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"'Aris," Killian called out when his friend was nearly to the door. It earned him some stink-eye from a nearby patient, but it didn't really matter. And she was right. She knew the tone, and he wouldn't get away with using it on her ever again. She was being too kind in letting him get away with it now, because she had done something nice for him and he wasn't being very appreciative of that. After all, she wasn't his Aunt, or his mother, and while both were deserving of his resentment, Damaris wasn't.

 

"Come back here," he ordered, surprised when she actually obeyed him. Probably more out of curiosity than anything else, because she was hardly the type to obey anyone.

 

He turned his head to look at her and found his eyes stung with tears. Who knew where those were coming from? "I'm sorry," he murmured. "Don't let them kick you out. And if you ever start being nice to those two idiots, Merlin help you."

 

Stay? Please?

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She was just about to reach the door and head out when Killian called out to her. She was a little surprised when he asked her to come back, hardly expecting that type of reaction after he'd ordered her away. She'd figured that she would just go back to the common room and he'd get over whatever it was that he had to get over and that would be the end of it, and then they'd just forget it happened or something. 

 

Something in her stomach twisted uncomfortably when his gaze met hers, something that made her want to cry, but she was quick to repress the feeling. "It's okay," she motioned for him to move over so that she could sit down too. "If Miss Lunes comes I'm telling her this was your idea. But some of this should be enough to bribe any wing assistant." She held up the small purse of galleons she'd been holding along with her magazine.

 

She laughed quietly at his next remark. "Not something I'd do in this lifetime. @Griffin Finnigan and @River Wolfe are both creepy little stalker trolls. I think Finnigan's in love with me. Or you. Or both of us, actually." It felt like a relief to talk about their classmates instead.

 

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Killian shuffled over as he was wordlessly ordered and allowed Damaris to sit down. Relief washed over him again when she did, a tell-tale sign that she wasn't going to leave unless she was ordered away by one of the Wing matrons. He had to get better at not pushing people away. So what if he team was eliminated? If any of the other tasks were the same as the one he just went through, than being eliminated was a blessing, wasn't it?

 

"It is my idea," he said, owning it, but peered inside her little purse to see the galleons resting in there. Naturally, he reached in and snatched one to peer at closely. He narrowed his eyes at Damaris, because he couldn't tell the difference right now. "Leprechan gold?" he asked. "If it is, you should give some of it to Finnigan and Wolf. I wouldn't be nice to them in any lifetime."

 

Just the thought was enough to make him want to gag. Or, maybe it was the poison. He still felt hot all over. "I get to miss class," he grinned at her suddenly, as if that was the most important thing they needed to talk about, until he came back with, "She was supposed to come. My Aunt. I guess she really doesn't like me."

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Damaris shook her head when Killian asked if it was leprechaun gold. "December's allowance," she answered, "You can keep it, if you want. I'm definitely not giving Finnigan or Wolfe real gold." 

 

"Do you get to miss any exams? I'd love to miss the Herbology one." She was definitely going to fail. She was dreading it, because she knew that she would, and she knew that the moment she did, she would be called into Hambeldon's office and would probably have to suffer through some boring lecture about how plants were important, she reasoned. She hadn't exactly started off strong when she'd dumped her plant project out on purpose during the first week of school.

 

She frowned when he said that his aunt didn't come, and the frown only deepened when he said that she must not like him. "But she does like you, I mean I met your aunt--Lian? She was really nice, gave me chocolate, actually," and it was at point that it occurred to her that he could have had more than one aunt. She pursed her lips and wondered if she could ask the other thing that was on her mind. 

 

"I asked if she was your mum. Why did she look at me like I stepped on a baby crup?" 

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"Nah," he said with a grin. "I don't need galleons." It was kind of her to offer them, though. "That's a fancy allowance you got, too. What, is your family rich or something?" Not that he had any bearing on their friendship, because it seemed like his own family was rolling in the money, too. Darcie and Lian certainly seemed to have more of it than his mother did, and that made sense, since Saffron was disowned from the family--or she severed ties. Killian wasn't all that clear on the matter, but all he knew was that his family lived in a smaller house. He had a cramped room, but at least he had a Playstation to take his mind off his crappy life.

 

He shook his head at her next posed question and chuckled. "Nah. They say I should be back in time for exams. It's almost like the planned the task with just enough time to spare if anyone got injured." Because adults were mean, and wanted to torture them with meaningless exams about meaningless things. Except Herbology wasn't so meaningless, apparently. It was a very important class to take in order to succeed in potions.

 

"Aunt Lian is nice," Killian said agreeingly. "She just left here, but she's not like... not my real Aunt. She's married to my Aunt Darcie, and... she didn't come to watch the tournament. I thought it would make her proud of me, y'know? But, maybe it's a good thing she didn't come," he said in the end. "Since we're eliminated now."

 

He let out a sigh.

 

And then Damaris asked a question he really didn't want to answer. Just the thought that she might learn the whole story made his stomach churn. "Don't ask me that," Killian said after a moment of literally warring with himself. "I don't want to lie to you." Just let it go. He was sans a mother, that much she could gather, but anything beyond that and he just didn't want to face it.

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"Yeah," Damaris nodded, setting the small purse aside. "My step-dad owns this university, I think? Does something with art? It's never really been fully explained to me." Even if it was, she was pretty sure that she would have gotten bored half way through the explanation. She knew her mum had money when they lived in Greece, but she had paid even less attention to why that was before they lived in the United Kingdom. 

 

"That's lame, though, you should at least get to miss one exam," Damaris nodded. What was the point of even being in the Hospital Wing if you were still going to have to take all of the exams on time? 

 

It hadn't quite occurred to her that he could have had more than one aunt, and that she could have just met the nice one. "Well, that's dumb," Damaris said decisively. "She should be proud of you, because it's not like tons of first years were in the tournament. And she should just be proud of you in general." She was fairly envious of not just his skill in the Dueling Chamber, but also his ability in their classes, too. She, after all, was the person who had set a burn-healing potion on fire. 

 

She had touched a sore spot, which she had suspected she would, considering his aunt's reaction to her question. She pursed her lips as she tried to figure out how to respond. She could very well tell him that she respected the fact that he didn't want to talk about it, but she was curious now. And there was still plenty that she hadn't told anyone at school--her story on her family had changed when talking to Caprica and Kaleb, after all. She'd omitted key details with Killian as well, and sitting here with fundamental secrets between them wasn't something she liked. If they were going to be friends--good friends, close friends, then these were details they were going to have to share with each other, right? 

 

She took a breath. "...um, my dad. My real dad, not my step-dad," she wasn't sure if there was a more delicate way to phrase what she wanted to say, but maybe it was best if she just came right out and said it. "I never knew my real dad. He passed away before I was born. Mum says it was dragon pox, but I really don't know, because she never says word one about him. All I know is that for ten years we were were apparently living in his house. Not so much as a photograph." 

 

She let out a breath. "I haven't told anyone that. Well, other than you, just now. I've been telling people my parents are divorced. It's just too...I don't even know. But I'm not going to lie to you about it. So...I don't know, maybe it sucks to talk about. But don't lie to me about it."

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Even though Damaris had been kind with her words, Killian wasn't as sure about them as she apparently was. Darcie was going to do what Darcie was going to do. That much he learned turning the summer months when she was pretty much forced to adopt him. He was eleven years old. He wasn't stupid. He knew what happened that summer, even though it was more than any eleven year old should have to endure. "Thanks," he mumbled, though was quiet enough that maybe she didn't hear him.

 

He really didn't want to lie to her, that much was true. He didn't want to share his history with anyone, and while he knew deep down that she wouldn't judge him harshly, he was worried that maybe she might. She might get up and walk out of the hospital wing and their usual breakfast ritual would be gone. Next to Everly, she was his best friend, and he couldn't fathom gaining and losing in the span of just a couple months.

 

So, he listened to her story. And by the end of it, he tilted his head towards her. He felt a little more at ease, but her story only sparked a question that he had to ask before he even thought of sharing more information with her.

 

"But... why?" he asked. "Your dad was a wizard, and he passed. Why lie about that? I don't see why you would be ashamed of that."

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"It's not...It's not that I'm ashamed of it," Damaris bit her lip as she tried to figure out the best way to describe the feeling. "The problem is that it's not anything at all. I know what his name was, I know that he went to Beauxbatons, and I know that he lived in Santorini. But that's not like...a person. There's plenty of Greek wizards on Santorini that also are named Dimitri and went to Beauxbatons. It's just like...I dunno, like a hole where this person is supposed to be and I don't know how to explain that to people. Don't really want to." 

 

She shrugged. "Kaleb's asked me twice if I can tell him about Beauxbatons. I don't actually know anything about Beauxbatons. My mum has told me stories, but I'm pretty sure she made some of them up. She's a squib, so obviously she didn't go herself." She'd even told Caprica that both of her parents were alive and had gone to Beauxbatons, which just felt like a double lie. That wasn't what she had intended to do, but it just sort of happened. 

 

"...I don't know," she murmured as a silence fell between them for a moment. "I guess my point is...I'm not going to judge you or whatever. I'm not going to think you're weird because of it, either. We all have secrets, but um...we shouldn't have them." Part of her was worried that she was being too demanding, trying to coax the information out of him. But the other part of her fully believed that what she was saying was the truth. After all, she had just shared something with him that she hadn't shared with anyone else. 

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"I get it, I think," Killian muttered after a moments pause. He mulled over her story, her explanation, and tried to make some sort of sense of it. Of course he wasn't judging her. He was in no place to do so, especially after she just admitted that her mum was a squib. He hadn't known that before now, and truth be told, this was all interesting. She didn't seem like the sort of witch who came from a broken home. Honestly, she presented herself like a true pureblood, if the books were any indication of how purebloods acted.

 

If anyone was the poser here, though, it was him, and he let out a long sigh. "We, as in you and me? Or we, as in everyone everywhere shouldn't have secrets?" he asked, cracking a small smile, because he knew what she meant. They were friends, and secrets weren't supposed to be kept from friends.

 

"My mum--ah, she's a squib, too. A pureblooded squib," he amended. He felt shame the moment he said it and he looked away from her. "All I know is, that some time before I was born, she swore off magic, married my papà; a muggle. At least you have more wizarding blood in you than I've got. I'm barely a halfblood." Still, that didn't explain why his aunts were his guardians now and he shook his head sadly. "When my mum found out I was... with magic, she snapped, I guess, and tried to keep my letter from me. I didn't know what was going on, and I never saw her like that before. Next thing I know..."

 

Killian swallowed thickly at this bit. He had done his best not to think about it, but it was next to impossible. "She dumped me on my Aunts' doorstep, and... I didn't even know I had an Aunt, or a cousin... and said I belonged to her..." Killian turned his head back towards the window as he hastily rubbed at his eye. No, he wasn't crying. Well, he wasn't going to let her see he was crying--but eleven year old boys lacked subtlety.

 

"She left me there, and a few days later, my papà passed away. Some kitchen accident. Darcie and Lian adopted me, but I am pretty sure Darcie didn't want to. Pretty sure she wants nothing to do with me. Happy? Now you know I am not from some great wizarding family. Not my side of one, anyway." Because the Dracels were still prominent in the wizarding world. He just hadn't been apart of it, and now he was the outsider forced to step into this family circle and learn twice as fast as everyone else so he didn't appear to be the wizarding idiot. Save that role for the Hufflepuffs.

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"We as in you and me, duh," she smiled. She didn't really care what secrets other people had, but her friends were a different story. 

 

Damaris stayed quiet for a moment as she listened to his story. She frowned as he looked away from her, and frowned again a second time when he turned away to rub his eye for a moment. 

 

Was she happy? No, not in the slightest. She was glad that they weren't keeping secrets, but this hadn't been what she had thought she would find out at all. She'd thought that maybe his mum had also died of dragon pox and it was hard to talk about. No, this was different. This was worse. And she wasn't totally prepared for it.

 

Her mum had always told her that blood was everything, that the fact that she was pureblooded meant that she was better than anyone who wasn't. She supposed that she had always just sort of assumed that Killian was pureblooded. She pursed her lips as she tried to think through this information.

 

"My mum is a pureblood squib too," Damaris nodded. "Um, in Greece it's pretty common for pureblood families to quietly marry off any squibs and then expunge them from the family tree. I could have aunts and uncles and cousins, but my mum's never said a word about any of them."

 

She furrowed her brow as she tried to connect this piece of information to what he'd told her. "I'm not happy, though, because that just...I don't even know. I want to say it sucks but that doesn't even seem to begin to cover it." 

 

She bit her lip, before adding, "I don't think that matters. The um...blood part. If it did, I would be good at everything. I'm not. I'm not very good at almost anything. But you are. You're good at almost everything." She was pretty envious of that. 

 

"Besides, I might be pureblooded, but I barely saw magic before I came to Hogwarts. My step-dad's a muggle, too. I'm probably loads more behind than you could ever be," she shrugged. That was a bit of a safer topic of conversation, wasn't it? 

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