HEARTBREAKER MY KISS IS A LIFE TAKER TAG @tag OUTFIT Polyvore/Google WORDS 000 NOTES Blah

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he light sound of bottles and potions being mixed could be heard in the quiet Hospital wing. A few nurses where checking on the few students that where laid up in bed, most from an unfortunate accident in Potions class or one of them mishandled a beast from the Magical Creatures class. The head nurse, a man in his twenties busied himself with preparing the beds. One far enough away for privacy, it was for one of his regulars who would come in around this time.

Theodorich looked at the clock, not quite sure when his student would be in. Though he suspected he had time to make the Wolfsbane Potion.
Walking towards his table, which had been prepared ahead of time, he began the brew. "Michelle, please tell me when Astrit comes in." his voice was steady, and held no room for argument. His assistant nodded, "Yes sir, I will inform him." she replied before leaving to attend another patient. Though she wondered why the man had decided on making the Potion himself, but since the man was her superior and often ignored them when he was asked that...she decided it better not to ask.

Theodorich
knew this image was probably ridiculous, but he refused to divulge why he insisted on doing it himself. Unlike the others, his mother had taught him her special brew. She had spent a few years perfecting it, saying she had heard complaints from those who suffered from Lycanthropy. Isobel had known how disgusting, and putrid it tasted and smelled thanks to stories from Werewolves. She wasn't able to cure it, but her brew was able to stave off the change..if only for a few days, and tasted like...well heavy scented tea. It still smelled putrid though, which is why he had opened the windows beforehand.  It smelled, but he had seen it work first hand. His mother had traveled, and sometimes he had gone with her...he had seen how horrible it was for those afflicted. One of these days, Theodorich vowed to make the potion stronger..Maybe he could help them in some way.

He had no idea how long it was. But, finally as he added the last bit of items into the small bubbling cauldron, a puff of blue smoke began to rise from it. He wrinkled his nose, but was satisfied by it. "Good, it's ready..." he looked up to see if the boy had arrived. Wiping the sweat from his brow, Theodorich turned to the potion and ladled it into a small clay glass. Smiling, he turned and walked towards the bed he saw the boy waiting at. "Ah, Astrit! Good to see ya" he said, and it was a joke since they both knew that this was kind of a routine now.

ISHY of THQ & ADOXOGRAPHY

There's a bad moon on the rise

In some ways, Astrit was used to this routine: he came into the hospital wing like this every month, so it wasn't like there was anything unfamiliar about it. His classmates didn't even ask questions, anymore; they knew perfectly well that he was a weird kid, kind of sickly, who managed to wind up in the hospital wing on what would have been a shockingly regular basis (...once every twenty-eight days, like clockwork, or, rather more to the point, like the phases of the moon) if he hadn't had a confounding factor in the form of the accidents and real illnesses that hit him at irregular, but unusually frequent, intervals. Really, it was bad enough that he wondered sometimes whether perhaps he was suffering from another curse more nebulous than, but very nearly as intrusive as, the lycanthropy that he definitely had. In a way, though, whatever else was wrong with him might even have been a blessing: after all, it meant that his classmates were less likely to figure out that he was a werewolf, and potentially get him thrown out of the school, than if he had disappeared only once a month and that always at the full moon.

Just as he did every month, the scrawny little boy made his way down staircase after staircase, from Gryffindor Tower to the hospital wing. He was slightly paler than usual, and deliberately walking a little oddly, so that if anyone asked him where he was going his answer would be self-explanatory. From time to time, he ran his fingers over a small, round charm against the evil eye that he always wore, which had been a gift from his father before he went off to school, half-consciously contemplating whether he might need such protection more urgently than it seemed on the surface.

He arrived at the hospital wing and one of the nurses, Michelle by name, kindly greeted him and showed him to a bed that was waiting for him in a relatively isolated area of the room. Astrit was always secretly glad of the precautions that were taken to ensure that it would not become widely known that he was a werewolf; he liked Hogwarts, liked his studies and his friends here, and he knew from bitter experience that, even if being identified wouldn't get him expelled outright, he could safely expect to be hated and feared all month long by just about everyone he met, and his utter lack of malice towards any of them would mean nothing in light of the basic fact of his transformations--however well-controlled they were.

That was part of why he was here. Astrit desperately wanted to keep his transformations perfectly under control; at home, his father's skills at potion-making consistently availed him (though how Babi had learned to make a Wolfsbane Potion at all remained a mystery to the boy), and here, he was diligent at both coming for his regular doses of the potion and studying all the things he would need to know in order to make it for himself one day. For the time being, he was dependent on others to make it for him... such as the friendly blond Bavarian who was coming over to see him now, cup in hand.

In response to Theodorich's playful greeting, Astrit grinned and responded in kind, "Life hasn't figured out how to kill me yet. I see you're still well?"

made by MISSO

Theodorich grinned at that response. At least the kid had a sense of humor, it was a necessity that would help him in the long run in the future. Honestly, when the Bavarian had heard there would be 'two' werewolves attending Hogwarts he had been anxious and excited. Anxious because he had never encountered werewolves before, only read of them in his books and eye witness reports his mother had brought home. The excited..well, he wanted to put his skills to good use. Honestly, the moment he met Astrit the man felt...well a protective older brother feeling for him. To help him, Theo had spent nights researching on the best things a werewolf would need..and how to make their changes or symptoms less painful. So far it was to no avail. He hadn't come close to finding a cure, but he did find herbs to add into the potion to make it less...well terrible on the pallet. At least that is what his research had said...the herbs wouldn't ruin anything, but it was supposed to change the taste. "That is good to hear, because life can be quite a B-...well she's nasty sometimes." he cut off the curse-word before it slipped out. With a shrug, he handed the young man the cup before leaning against the bedside table. Hand on his hip, and an annoyed expression on his face. "I've been well, except for the fact I found out my hardcore Quiditch days may be over." It was the worse day of his life...once he could take on two jinxed Bludgers no problem, and not feel like he had run up a damned hill...while dodging spells. Pushing that thought aside, he turned his attention back to the young Gryffindor. Wanting to change the subject, and not sound like he was wining, he gestured towards the cup. "I think you'll find the taste isn't as bitter...it's still bad, but at least you won't want to throw up afterwards." At least he hoped it worked...this was really his first time attempting this, but it was safe at least and didn't dull the potions properties. That was the important thing...that it worked, and that it held the change back. "So, anything interesting happen around school? Make any new friends?"

@anyone # # # NOTES In honor of my grandma's birthday.

aeron at thq