pilgrimage (kistin)

[KISTIN THEODORE CROSS !]

Kistin smiled at her soothingly. "When I return to my coven...whenever that might be...I could always see if there are any discarded clothes - most of them enjoy wearing this stuff...they might have a few I could...liberate...for you." He offered. "It might take me a while, and they may be slightly too large...but if you're interested, I'll see what I can do..."

As they began to move, Kistin carried on as he had done before bumping into Hermione. He trod gingerly and carefully - surprising himself with his agility. He had a reputation for being clumsy and the joker of the coven...but none of it showed as he led her down the pathway - the clothes and trinkets still clutched firmly to his chest. Every few metres he looked over his shoulder, checking she had not fallen behind, or been taken silently. He felt a duty to protect her, which shocked him. He had no idea how he had become so involved in the lives of the wizards and witches. He had managed to keep himself to himself (aside from one night stands and unashamed flirting) for over a century...and now he found himself taking two witches, both young to a vampire, under his metaphorical wing; and taking one completely into his care. It was amazing...and frightening.

Eventually, Kistin spotted the sign.

The clearing where the Great Dark Lord
destroyed the halfblood scourge, Harry Potter,
in the Second War lies ahead of you.
See the strength of the Dark Lord!

Kistin moved forward, when he heard Hermione gulp. He turned around and saw her hesitating, and decided to walk back to her. He put his wand back in his pocket as he walked over, and placed his now-free hand back on her shoulder as he had done previously. "Are you okay?" He asked, gently. "Take your time."

[HERMIONE JEAN GRANGER!]

Oh no, she felt the tears coming. Shit; she was always told not to be sentimental, to not let your emotions take over. Getting emotional could get you killed when you pause to see your lover shot down or a friend critically injured. It was weakness, pure disgusting weakness that was as dangerous as an avedera kadavera. The opposite of bravery, stolid strength, everything a Gryffindor should be; Hermione was succumbing to this sickness, weakness and felt herself, her entire being slipping from her grasp.

But, with this man (vampire) watching out for her and no enemy in sight or causing a threat... perhaps it was okay to let go. If only for a moment.

Looking to Kistin first, eyes wide with the occasional narrowing to stave off those pesky tears, Hermione Granger walked forward, empowered by his touch and words. The clearing was as it was at the time of Harry's death, practically untouched. Massive oaks, so wide that not even Hagrid could have wrapped his arms around their trunks, surrounded the path of grass, ferns, and stones. They stood, silent witnesses to the passage of time before, then, and since, showing no sign of their age other than bulk. The ground here was also damp, but Hermione still walked to the center despite it might being a mire (which is was not, actually quite firm ground). She stood still for a moment, first staring ahead at the slight rising in ground.

That was where Voldemort would have stood, behind him his followers, including Bellatrix and Lucius. His wand, not rightfully his, pointed down to the exact spot where she stood. The ground was more bare here than other spots around the clearing. She looked down, as if expecting the imprint of her friend's body to still be there, scarring the soil as that lightening bolt did to his forehead. Her mouth was in a tight frown, as if attempting to keep every ounce of emotion and sorrow inside of her body.

She finally let out an exhale, her body noticeably relaxing, and she let a few tears flow down her red cheeks. The wind blew through the trees, the silence cut by the low howl of air zipping through the spaces in between the tree trunks. It felt cold, damp, unforgiving... painful where her face was wet.

All it took was for a flash from her memory, seeing Harry's limp body being carried by Hagrid, and imagining him falling in a flash of green light where she stood now... that was all it took to send her bawling.

Her knees seemed to give out underneath her, kneeling to the ground and sobbing. She had not intention of keeping quiet, and was not ashamed. Hermione honestly could not help it, could not stop up the tears anymore. Her friend had died here.

[KISTIN THEODORE CROSS !]

Kistin watched, thin-lipped, as Hermione made her way towards the clearing. He decided to let her go in alone, as he himself had had times when all he wanted was a moment to collect his thoughts on his own; solitary. He saw her look to him before she entered, and he tried to give her a look of understanding and of encouragement.

This woman in the middle of a ring of aged trees, looked so small...and fragile. The clearing had been the place where the most devastating of events had taken place, in view of a vast number of Death Eaters...and barely anyone who was an ally to the boy's cause.

Kistin saw Hermione look around...she looked almost dazed, and he contemplated what action he should take. He heard her sigh, and he knew what he should do. Gently manoevering his free arm out of his jacket, he switched the pile of Ella's belongings into the now uncovered hand and arm. He repeated this with his other hand. Placing his jacket gently on the ground, he put Ella's belongings within it...and just in time.

As he looked up at Hermione, he saw her drop to her knees. Initially panicking that someone had seen them and had fired some spell at her, he stood bolt upright, his head darting from side to side as if he were a meerkat...and then he heard her sobs. His heartbeat slowed to it's normal pace, and he slowly made his way, gently, to her side. Kneeling down, he instinctively put his arms around her, and held her, the way an older brother would hug a younger sibling who had injured themselves. He said nothing, not even a "shhh" sound. It sounded like she needed to cry; to mourn. To be human.

He imagined what people would have thought if they were found, but had to accept that they would probably both be killed on sight. But this man, blonde haired, crystal-blue eyed, clothed in a black t-shirt and trousers, holding on to an easily recognisable woman in jeans, a jumper and scarf must have been a strange sight. But it wasn't the sight that made Kistin so contemplative. It was the fact that this woman seemed to have the world crushing down upon her shoulders; had faced so much of the hardship that could be found in the Wizarding World...and yet she was still more human than the people sitting in the plushy staff room of the Castle. That was what made Kistin Cross even more protective of this woman. That was what made her like Ella. That was why she was worth looking after.

[HERMIONE JEAN GRANGER!]

(i'll say it once and i'll say it again, that post was awesome! reminded me of the whole braveheart speech... haha)

Hermione felt a rush of warmth, relief, when she was comforted by Kistin. She had never had brothers, being an only child, and she had years ago cast aside those men who would be taking this role on. Ronald Weasley would have been her shoulder to cry on, the both of the Gryffindor boys filling the part of her surrogate brothers. They leveled her, gave her balance, made her flex her protective and logical muscles... without them, she certainly would not have made any friends at Hogwarts, her only purpose to one-up other students and get all Outstandings on her OWLS. What sort of life would that have been? One without purpose...

His presence took the edge off the discomfort caused by the wind blowing against her face, but the tears just did not seem to want to stop. Perhaps it was because she had been holding them back for so many years; and of all times for them to force themselves out, when a stranger and friend for less than a day could see her. Oh, how the Death Eaters would have loved to see her so weak, giving in to the futility of her situation. With her loved ones gone, practically alone in her crusade for muggleborn and halfblood freedom and equality, constantly being hunted... but the fact she was still alive and relatively unscathed and with all of her limbs and sanity and wits about her meant that she had to continue on.

That did not mean that tears did not have to flow; this was the first she was allowed to grieve for Harry Potter without fear of being killed.

Hermione shook her head in disbelief, her head hanging low and vision obscured from the tears. Her chest shook as her took in a sharp breath, and out of frustration she took her right hand, curled into a fist, and pounded it to the ground, on that spot where he and her chance for freedom fell for the last time. Her sobbing, which before then had quieted to a soft whine with a sniffle or two, increased once more, gasping for breath.

"He didn't deserve it..." she whimpered, voice shrill but shaking, then afterwards becoming suddenly very loud; a scream out to the forest that bared witness to his death, and what she had been wanting to do in front of every follower of Voldemort, right to their faces. "HE DID NOT DESERVE TO DIE! He was meant to live... he was the better wizard, the better man... and we weren't there... I wasn't there..." She paused, mouth slightly open, brow upturned and lower lip quivering. The fist unclenched, her fingers moving gently over the wet dirt.

"Kistin," Hermione said slowly, trying to control her tone from entering into the hysterics from before, "Before Harry went to this clearing, he came to Ron and I to tell us he where he was going... to die. To have Voldemort kill him. I... I said I would go with him... that I wanted to; I didn't want him to die alone. I insisted because I wanted to make sure he was okay, that he wasn't tortured or in pain."

"The guilt... the not knowing what he saw, how he felt... how he, HE died, what it was like for him... not being there beside him... it's been eating me alive ever since. We abandoned him..."

[KISTIN THEODORE CROSS !]

Kistin sat hugging her, completely silent, as she cried. Her crying began to die down, when suddenly her hand lashed out and hit the ground...and her anguished sobs rose up once again. He looked at her with concern and understanding, as she began to speak.

Except she not only spoke. She shouted. As she screamed out into the night, Kistin while understanding she needed to let her mental pain escape...it was also incredibly dangerous for her to shout so - who knew how many Death Eaters roamed the forests...and how many were in their vicinity. He held her slightly more tightly, trying to comfort her - not just for her sake now. Her voice had already returned to it's lesser volume, and he felt an uncomfortable pang in the bottom of the stomach as she said the words "I wasn't there."

Those words could so easily have escaped his own mouth barely two months beforehand, when Ella was taken by Fenrir. And Hermione's guilty, remorseful words reminded him of how close he had come to facing the emotions she was struggling with. He looked down at the floor and swallowed; trying to focus on reality...not "ifs" and "might haves". He looked at her, and spoke, quietly. "You didn't abandon him. So many people would have said you should have done so far before the Second War...but you, and Mr. Weasley...you never gave up on him. Despite your every step being scrutinised and looked upon by the majority of the Wizarding World the majority of the time, you never gave up...and you didn't abandon. It was a cruel turn of events that left you, Mr. Weasley, and Mr. Potter separated at that moment. Seeing you like this now tells me you wouldn't have knowingly "abandoned" him."

He rubbed her shoulder gently. "You lived, Hermione. You were given this chance to make things right and carry his legacy on. You've got so much life to live...and so many differences you can make to so many people." Kistin halfsmiled. "I'm jealous." He remarked. "I'm jealous that you have such a chance to change the lives of those who still remember you. While that's not always a positive thing, it is in my eyes." He sighed. "After 107 years...you soon realise that everything will reach its natural end...aside from you yourself."

"I am not, of course, implying Harry met his natural end...and there's nothing to say that with the help of people like you, the current regime will last to see its own natural end. I think even if it were to end today, it couldn't be called a "premature" end...it has lasted too long already."

He stopped...he was rambling. "You have so much left in you, Hermione." He eventually said. "So, so much."

[HERMIONE JEAN GRANGER!]

She sniffed once after Kistin finished speaking, his words as comforting as his touch on her shoulder. In hindsight, screaming at the top of her lungs was not a smart idea. She could have attracted a pack of snatchers right to their location, since the average bloodsnob tourist would not be saying that Harry Potter had died unfairly, let alone shout it. Hermione should have felt silly, irresponsible; she could have been putting her companion and her's life at risk. His words, saying that she did not abandon Harry and that she had a responsibility to continue the mission that they had fought so long and hard for... it gave her courage, and for that her sobbing stopped. She brushed away tears with her right arm before pulling her wand from her pocket.

"... you are absolutely right," Hermione started, fiddling with her wand as she leaned back against his arms, pulling her arms from the ground, "Harry would not have wanted to see me giving up; if he were to die, he would want us to keep fighting. I do not think he would want to see me crying..." With a small swish of her wand, on the spot where she had hit before a tiny wreath no larger than six inches in diameter appeared. The evergreen was dotted with three red roses along its edge and attached to it was a parchment tag.

"You know, he was always the first one to notice I was upset, worried... Harry, for all of his bullheadedness and occasional moodiness, would try his hardest to make me smile. I could tell you so many stories... there are just too many." She, for the first time since arriving at the site, smiled.

"I perhaps just wish that his death was painless, quick. I will never get to know until I taste it myself... I do not plan on doing so for a long while." She turned the parchment tag over to reveal the text, neat script in black ink:

Here is where Harry Potter fell
To a coward during the Second War
But did not die
May he live on and triumph over evil
Through those who miss and love him

"I pray he had peace when he passed- Harry never experience it when alive," Hermione said in barely a whisper, "Even if we could not give it to him. Thank you, Kistin, for being here. You gave me peace..."

[KISTIN THEODORE CROSS !]

He was relieved that when he finished speaking, Hermione seemed to be feeling better, as she stopped crying. When she spoke, he smiled gently. She seemed stronger again, and determined. As she pushed against his arms, he let go of her with his left arm, keeping his right arm on her shoulder.

He saw her summon a small wreath and the importance of that moment was not lost upon him. As her voice grew more wistful, he looked at her more intently, and was relieved to see a small smile form on her lips. "I'm sure there are plenty of tales. Ever heard of Sherlock Holmes? You should do what Dr. Watson did - write a journal of the times you had together...just to have a hard copy of the memories." He remarked.

When she spoke of his death, Kistin rubbed her shoulder once more. He read the tag as she turned it over, and he smiled. This woman had a capacity for emotion second-to-none. Her empathy and thoughtfulness was inspiring anyway...but again, her situation made it all the more amazing and poignant. Her final words showed him that.

"Thank you for allowing me to be here." He replied, quietly. "And for as long as you remain the person I have met tonight; you will always have somewhere to turn should things get rough...well...rougher." He paused. She had trusted him to join her in such a personal memorial...and he felt able to trust her with...

"If you're in trouble...or you need somewhere to rest...or just want a listening ear..." he began, tentatively, "For the time being you'll find me and my friend staying near Hogsmeade. Not anywhere special, and not anywhere comfy. There's a cave in the rocks above Hogsmeade - have you ever heard of it? - it's not easily accessible and its a nice hiding place. We've been hiding out there for about two months. Well...you can always come and find refuge with us." He'd get to the part about Ella being almost comatose later, he decided...it wasn't something he really wanted to think about at the moment...though time was moving on...

[OOC: The cave is the same cave Sirius hid in - just to clarify. Hermione will obviously know exactly where he's talking about, and have her own memories and thoughts of the place.]

[HERMIONE JEAN GRANGER!]

"That is not a bad idea at all," Hermione murmured in response to Kistin's idea of recording the memories she had of Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley, "I have read the Sherlock Holmes series... it has to have been years. A collection of stories... you know, it will be helpful. Sometimes I speak of them, and I find my memory slipping. Why, if either of them were to call my name, I honestly cannot say that I would be able to recognize their voices..."

Her voice weakened at the sinking in of that thought. First off, she spoke of Harry as if he was still alive. As much as she was aware that he was 'alive' in her 'heart', he no longer had a corporeal presence. Ron was just as much of a wisp to her, possibly being dead, as present as the howling of the wind through the trees that surrounded them.

Hermione shook these thoughts from her head, even though they forced a tear or two to flow from her eyes. She gave the wreath, roses, and parchment another long, hard look before standing up. She brushed the dirt and leaf litter from the knees of her jeans, proud of her ability to even conjure the thing in the first place.

"When I was a first year, Kistin," she said, turning her head towards him, face red and puffy and eyes bloodshot, but at peace, "I was an insufferable know-it-all, who had no purpose in her life than to prove others wrong. As you may have seen, I have grown up a bit; I would have never dreamed of almost dying for something other than the pursuit of knowledge. I can assure you, to the best of my knowledge, that my principles will never change, even when things get, as you say, rougher. You have a friend in me, Mr. Cross."

She took in a deep breath of air, releasing it and seeing the air from her lungs. The temperature had dropped since they entered the clearing, the wetness of her face stinging from it being chilled. Evening was giving way to the darkness of nightfall, yellow and purple intermingling in the sky through clouds and light on the cusp of the horizon. She needed to find shelter, and fast; since being on the run, she could not longer return to her flat in London. Hermione often camped out alone, that extendable bag still holding her tent.

"Any Death Eater who visits here will see this," she said, a sense of confidence pervading her words as she spoke, "I hope they read it, and I really hope they know who placed it here. I will keep putting one up if it is removed, for as long as I need to. You will not be traced for being present... but I honestly do not think I could have come and confronted this without another person."

A cave near Hogsmeade... he must have meant the one where Sirius had been hiding. Well, the three of them practically knew this forest like the back of their hands... and that was the only cave they had heard of or come across in their journeys. In a way, she felt relief that it was being used for the cause that she donned the banner for, to shelter a Muggleborn and her caretaker from harm...

"This may be too much to ask, Kistin," Hermione started, uncomfortable in requesting something of him after he had helped her so much, "If you do not mind, I wish to accompany you on your journey. Even if for just a small bit longer, until it is safe for me to apparate or find a campsite. To apparate from this place... it feels wrong."

(ooc: i am, by the way, going to start writing hermione's journal of stories and put it here. that was such a good idea!)

[KISTIN THEODORE CROSS !]

"I'm afraid no memory gets better with age." he replied, the half-smile back on his face. "But I'm sure your stories would be amazing to read." He saw her falter when she mentioned being unlikely to remember their voices. "I think you might. Certain characteristics of those who we were once close to remain for many years...even if we haven't been around them."

As she stood, so did he; removing his hand from her shoulder as he did so.

When she spoke of her younger self, and the fact she was not going to change, Kistin dipped his head in assent. "Then I have nothing to worry about."

As the sky turned darker, Kistin felt a pang of guilt about leaving Ella for quite so long...he had no idea how long he had been out for...or how long he would be...but he was paranoid about what might happen to her if he wasn't there to keep a watchful eye on her. Fenrir, though he hated to admit it, had got under his skin, and the sheer thought he had managed to spirit her away as he had done, without Kistin knowing, was sickening to him...and (though he'd never admit it)...it scared him.

Hermione brought his out of his thoughts as she talked about the wreath. "I'm glad I could be of service." He replied. "And it sounds like you needed this." He added, as a small smile grew across his face. "You've suddenly become far more positive...and far more determined."

Judging by the look on her face, she seemed to recognise the cave he was speaking of, but her next question was more of a surprise. "Don't be silly." He replied. "If we're heading in a similar direction, you may as well travel with company. It also means that if we do come across any...unsavoury..." He suddenly chuckled. "Sorry, the thought of someone with my condition calling another "unsavoury" was just too ironic...but, no...not the time. Apologies." He said, his mischievious, joking side submerging itself again in his consciousness. "If we come across anyone who may cause problems, there's one more person to help out."

However, his ears pricked up when she mentioned apparition and campsites. "You...do have somewhere safe to stay...right?" He asked, hesitantly. "I mean...you do know of somewhere you can sleep easy...or at least slightly easier than usual?"

[HERMIONE JEAN GRANGER!]

Hermione could not help but snort at Kistin's fine choice of words to describing those who many give either of them problems. She had met many of a different type of magical folk, but a vampire? Never such luck, except for seeing one purchase a stash of blood lollipops from Honeydukes back in her third year. One outing she had with Ronald Weasley he had bought one for her and dared her to try it. She managed to finish it, he then owing her a galleon, but the rest of the day she felt as if she had bit her tongue or split her lips or something to cause blood to come into her mouth. That steely taste she was now accustomed to; being a cohort of Potter and Weasley(s) meant that you were going to get battered around a bloodied up.

"No apology necessary," she chuckled, thoroughly chuffed with that joke, "Two is always better than one in a fight. And if one of the combatants just so happens to be able to suck the life force out of the enemy... all the better, don't you think? If that was offensive, I apologize in advance." Another gust of wind ripped through the clearing, letting out a long groan from the trees. This weather would have been more... pleasant if it had been snowing. She could always heat herself up with a warming charm and reminisce about Hogsmeade and the Forest of Dean and Christmas... not being cold and wet in the rain. She shuddered, crossing her arms tightly against her chest.

"I used to live in a flat in London," she responded reluctantly, not wanting this man to get too concerned about her (again), "Ever since I came back into activity in the wizarding community, I couldn't stay there. I would have Death Eaters peering inside my windows at night, despite any protective and concealment charms I set up. Needless to say, I gave Crookshanks... my cat, to a neighbor to look after and I fled a few months ago. Ever since I have been followed pretty much everywhere, so I have been required to keep on the move. I never sleep in the same place twice, but I have had the most success camping out in the Forest of Dean. It is so massive... you cannot find anything there easily." She smiled, musing on the cleverness of her hiding habits. Ranging from your basic concealment charms to changing the appearance of the tent to such objects as a hill or an abandoned house or an oak tree, Hermione flexed her creative muscles in trying to hide. It was rather sad, in all actuality...

"I still have to sleep with one eye open and no more than two hours at a time, though. A tent camouflaged by charms can only do you so much good if it is discovered to be a ruse."

[KISTIN THEODORE CROSS !]

Kistin grinned as she commented on his uses in a battle. "No offence taken. In fact, I thought something similar not so long ago, as we made our way down here..." He laughed. "I didn't say anything at the time, for fear of you finding it in bad taste! Then again, I guess all you "normal" people would say blood in itself's a bad taste..." He put deliberate emphasis on the "normal", trying to make it sound as bad as if he had just uttered the m-word, and wrinkled his nose in mock disgust. He then proceeded to burst into spasms of hushed laughter.

He saw her shiver, and he looked over his shoulder at the pile of items bundled on his black, hooded coat. "One moment," he said, apologetically. He walked over, picked up the clothes and items in one arm, and the coat in the other. He walked back to her and held it out. "See if this helps much." He said. "If it's not too big, you can have it. Consider it the first part of your awesome disguise." He added. She needed something to keep herself warm...her jumper obviously wasn't doing the trick. And he could always find another - it was a coat he barely wore anyway - and if he ever needed to return to another Death Eater haven, he could always see if Evander had a spare...that or any other vampire - they seemed to be in vogue at the moment...then again, it was obvious why.

As she spoke of the housing issues, Kistin frowned. He wasn't comfortable with her being out alone and so much at risk as she was...but he knew she'd been doing this kind of thing for years - there were always supposed sightings - especially after the trio had been found before the Second War in another forest...

"Have you thought about a Secret Keeper?" He asked. "I know it's hard to find someone trustworthy, but that's one surefire way to keep your home's whereabouts unknown provided you disguise yourself well enough, or sneak in and out carefully."

He paused..."Or...you could stay with us...Ella and I. As I've said, we've stayed in the cave for two months and we haven't been found...it's not the most comfortable of places, and it lacks much magical protection - for the moment at least - but we could do with someone else to help out...and any knowledge or advice you could give would be more than helpful. While I'm old, this is the first time in my unlife I've been a fugitive. I think on that front, you have more knowledge and experience than you probably would like...but it's useful, in some respects."

[HERMIONE JEAN GRANGER!]

"Normal... psh," Hermione chortled, "What is it anymore, anyways? Sitting on a cushion gloating about how inbred their family is, how well the 'branches intermingle and intertwine'... a load of bullocks if you ask me. And personally, I have grown accustomed to the taste of blood. When one gets punched, thrown, or otherwise manhandled, you find it is just a workplace hazard." She watched him get the coat for her, expression humble and her shrinking down slightly. Not anticipating him to give her his coat, although knowing very much of his kindness, she took it gingerly and put it on. She was swimming in it a little bit, but it did its job well. Hermione no longer felt the sting of the wind through her chest, her chest ceased its rattling from her uncontrollable shivering.

"Thank you, really," she said, pulling it closer to her body to quicken the warming process, "I owe you one."

"There was a reason Sirius used that cave as a refuge," Hermione replied once comfortable with the positioning of the coat against her. She took her scarf off her neck and began to retie it, "For some reason, Ministry officials forget it exists on the map and the Death Eaters have not began using it for... well, some reason. It would be the perfect hide out, really. I am glad you guys snatched it up before they did..." She took a moment to consider his proposal. Stay with them? Had she not put enough lives at risk already? There were snatchers and Death Eaters alike hunting her hide without mercy, and they could rather enjoy the act of capturing not just her, but also another muggleborn runaway from Hogwarts and a vampire who was not 'on the proper side'. There was not a tracer on her yet, but once the Ministry caught her and tagged her with a trace, they would know her location... as well as theirs if she dared visit.

"Being on the lam takes getting used to, I will admit," Hermione started in a professional tone, fidgeting with her wand, "If it is experience and advice you need in regards to protective and concealment incantations, however, I would be more than delighted to assist you. I can stay as long as you need me for those services. As for staying..." Her voice trailed off, as if speaking suddenly became difficult, "Perhaps for a short while. I simply do not want to put you or your charge at risk. I have someone on my tail at all times, and I would hate myself if either of you were harmed for my sake."

Great, she thought, she was starting to sound like Harry.

[KISTIN THEODORE CROSS !]

He smiled as she questioned what normality had become, and it faded quickly as she mentioned getting used to the taste of blood. "I like that phrase..."workplace hazard"...I may have to steal that and use that to any Death Eaters who choose to make an enemy of me." He put on an accent like that of a traditional old English gentleman. "So sorry, my chap. But if one will be on the side of Voldemort, and faced with a vampire, then surely the drawing of blood must be considered something of an "occupational hazard". Tally-ho!" He grinned.

When she took his coat and mentioned owing him, he waved his hand. "As I said, consider it a present. Keep it; and you owe me nothing."

She spoke of Sirius, and Kistin quickly searched his memory. There was only one Sirius he could recall was Voldemort's escaped "right hand man" - whose escape and then death had been widely publicised at least ten years beforehand. "Well...I had met my friend there while sheltering from some rather bright weather...it seemed the most logical place to take her to recover." He suddenly realised what he had just said...and the amount he had not yet told Hermione. Part of him wished to keep Ella's condition under wraps...but on the other hand...he had just offered to let Hermione join them. Surely she ought to know what the situation really was before joining them...

He made a promise to himself. If Hermione noticed the slip of the tongue and queried it...he would tell all. How they met...how she had arranged to meet him...how she got kidnapped...and how they came to be back in the cave...and her condition...honestly. If she didn't...then he would approach the subject later...depending on if she decided to join them or not. It was the equivalent of a coin flip...without a physical coin.

"Incantations would be incredibly useful." Kistin said. When she mentioned not wanting to put them at risk, Kistin laughed hollowly. The change in his attitude was abrupt, and almost slightly frightening. "We're already at risk. For goodness sake...I'm a vampire meant to side with Voldemort, and I've gone MIA. As I'm sure you're fully aware, you don't just disappear off the radar with Voldemort...there's the continual risk of being caught and interrogated, then beaten brutally and eventually given the pleasure of death." he said, bitterly. "As for Ella...she has her own heavily marked card, having been found to be a muggleborn hiding out within the school walls." His voice was not bitter now, but sounded more icy and sharp. There was obviously a lot of pain and anger within Kistin caused by her story. " He looked towards her, his face set and ice blue eyes seeming almost to see through her. After a few seconds, he whet his lips, and looked her in the eye. "There's not much more risk we could be at. I...even if Ella doesn't...know exactly what we have put at stake hiding where we are. I know what the worst case scenario is. And I know the worst thing the Death Eaters could do to me. I know the odds are stacked against all those fighting, or at least surviving, the regime we are under. But I also know that I have to fight it." And he half smiled, a brief ghost of a laugh escaping his lips. "And it's not for me. We are not dissimilar, Ms. Granger. You fight for your lost friend...and I fight for the friend I almost lost." ("And I might still lose." He mentally added.) He knew he shouldn't think like that, but it had become a continual fear...that she would relapse and decide to take the easiest way out.

"Anyway..." he said, trying to take his mind off the path it was beginning to go down, "...we should probably get going - we want to be back shortly." Well...at least he did. He couldn't leave her for much longer. The guilt, coupled with his mental track at the moment, was doing his head in.

[HERMIONE JEAN GRANGER!]

"... recover?" Hermione asked slowly, testing the waters to make sure it was alright to mention the condition of this mysterious charge of his. She would soon know through him that her name was Ella, and through deduction that she was a muggleborn student at Hogwarts that was forced to flee for her life. But... recover? Was she injured or cursed into some stupor? And who was responsible for her condition, whatever it happened to be, that would necessitate recovering? Sure a Death Eater, or snatcher, or professor and student as part of a lesson... This was indeed the problem in this day and age for the oppressed. If there was someone who sought justice, they would have the most difficult of times trying to find the one(s) responsible. It could have been anybody.

Seeing Kistin in such a fervor, with such passion... it very much reminded Hermione Granger why she was out in the middle of the woods at this hour where she could be caught and killed. He had just as much at stake as she did, perhaps the loss of 'Ella' a more crushing blow than if Hermione would lose her life. Although the change from jovial to worrisome to embittered was frightening, the girl held firm as she listened, always looking directly into his eyes. Nevertheless, she dug her hands into her pockets, as if his fury had sucked out all of the warm air in her and the space surrounding them, leaving her gloveless hands cold and becoming difficult to move on their own. When Kistin finished, keeping her head low (which was not too hard, considering their height difference), she cautiously closed the distance between them and placed her right hand on his shoulder, as he had done with her earlier.

"When I first met you," Hermione said softly, her speech losing its shrillness, "There was no inclination in my mind to suspect we were at all similar, Mr. Cross. For the first time in ages, Kistin, I am truly happy I was proven wrong. Very, very wrong." Tilting her head upwards to meet his eyes, her lips curved into a grin. She wished that her presence, even if just for a few nights, would put his mind at ease. After all, his magic was probably stronger than hers, all he needed to do was learn the spells...

"We really should be going... it is getting rather late, and you said that your friend... Ella... is by herself at the cave?"

[JET !]

"Recover." Kistin affirmed. He looked at Hermione and sighed. "It's a long story." He ran the fingers of his free hand through his blonde hair. "I met Ella about four or five months back in the cave - Sirius' cave, yes? - she was spattered in ink. We got talking...I found out she was muggleborn, at Hogwarts - only able to stay there due to someone forging stuff about her birth...or something like that. She had been attacked by Slytherins while traversing through Hogsmeade...and she told me of some of the horrible stuff that goes on there. She was determined though; strong, tough and had a rapier wit, far quicker than many I have seen." He smiled as he thought of the bubbly, bright...over-curious Ella he had met...but then waved his hand impatiently, skipping ahead. "Anyway, we arranged to meet at the end of term - I was to collect her from Kings Cross when the Hogwarts Express returned." His voice grew quieter as he recalled standing on the platform. "As the students disembarked...there was talk of something happening as the students had got on the train. Talk of a muggleborn being taken from the platform..." his voice grew acidic, and his hands twisted into fists, clenched by his sides."...by none other than Fenrir Greyback, the stinking mongrel. After some careful conversations with some of the kids...I found out it was "some Smith girl"...it was Ella."

He paused, looking to the ground as he began speaking again. "It took me a month to track him down." he shook his head in self-loathing. "It should never have taken me so long. In my long life, that is one of my deepest regrets." He inhaled deeply. "By the time I got there, she was...she was..." His face twisted, struggling to find words enough to describe how she had looked...and how she had been abused. "...she was broken. I barely recognised her...and she hardly acknowledged my presence at all." He let out a hollow "heh". "Even while I was there, he tortured her...and the hardest thing is knowing he did it because of that fact."

He swallowed, and then looked out towards the castle. "To cut a long story short I ended up fleeing with her almost lifeless body to the cave. I couldn't take her to my coven - she'd have been food - and I couldn't take her home because I had no idea where it was...and I couldn't bear seeing the look on her parents face if I did find them. We've been at the cave for a couple of months now...and she's recovering...slowly. It took her time to accept I wouldn't harm her...to actually even realise that I had been so close to her." He looked back at Hermione. "As I said, she's getting better...but I can't risk letting her out of my sight for too long. Knowing what happened when I wasn't with her last time is lesson enough. The only reason I came down here was to collect what little belongings she had here...so she never had to come back herself."

He then added, "I was willing to stay out longer to help you as you are on the same side as Ella, and face the same persecution, just you've faced it for a longer time with a higher profile, and I know that by standing watch over you tonight, I have stood watch over the spirit and heart of the resistance against the current regime."

He smiled gratefully as Hermione placed her hand on his shoulder, even if it did feel odd that their roles had apparently been reversed. And her words brought him a greater gift - the feeling of being able to smile with someone who (he hoped) would understand the situation he had found himself in. "And I am glad that you are willing to stay with us for even just a few nights. It will be nice to have some company, and maybe someone else Ella may accept as a friend. She needs as many of them as she can get; which I think is something I can also agree with." He nodded gratefully to Hermione. "Thank you for listening to this...I don't know... "insane" might fit? ....vampire's tale. You're the first person aside from Ella and I to hear our story...as strange as it is."

When she agreed that moving on was a good idea, Kistin nodded. "Yes, she's alone, against my better judgement...but that couldn't be helped." It sounded almost as if he wanted Hermione's approval; to be told it was the right thing to do...but it also sounded as if he himself wasn't convinced that he had done the best thing for the woman in his care.

[OOC: Kistin is now, apparently, the one with the tumultuous emotions, it seems. Also, apologies, but I couldn't be bothered to switch from one account to the other :S XD]