Killian Dracel

in your eyes, all the sadness of the world

11 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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