pilgrimage (kistin)

[HERMIONE JEAN GRANGER!]

[haha; they both can have their turns being emotional. and it's okay!]


Hermione Granger, in her time as a muggleborn witch, had been encountered by and been a part of herself some pretty horrifying acts of cruelty and injustice. From not being permitted to enter a bookstore because of her blood status, to having a Death Eater cut the jugular vein of one such wizard in the hopes of ‘draining that filthy mud from his veins’, she thought she had seen enough for multiple lifetimes worth. While Kistin spoke, still quite emotional and furious with both himself and the situation of Ella Smith, she kneaded the shoulder her tiny hand was in contact with.

No matter the number of these tales told, they hurt the right-hearted of those who heard them as if the first time.

At his mentioning of the name Fenrir Greyback, Hermione noticeably shuddered and tightened her grip on the vampire, a cold rod of fear and horrid memory shooting up her spine and left her exhale shaking. Oh, that man... that beast, killing her comrades and so desperately wanting to bite her, ravage her, destroy her. Her unhappy meetings with the werewolf were fresh in her memory, his animalistic yellow eyes gazing over her bodily ravenously as Bellatrix declared her to be his next ‘meal’. Merlin knows what he would have actually done to her, but if she lived through it she would have rather killed herself than face the aftermath.

This Ella Smith was lucky to be alive, and much more fortunate to have such a devoted caretaker. It seemed as if for every Muggleborn who had such a noble and loving other to watch over them, there were ten others suffering without a single person giving them a second thought.

“I am honored to be the first outside of the actual events to hear this story,” she began gently when he finished, her hand moving from his shoulder and giving him a light pat on the back, “Fenrir Greyback and myself have history, and I will be the first then to say that Ella Smith had Merlin on her side to have such a compassionate individual as yourself to protect her. I cannot instruct you as to how you should feel about the situation, but just know that it is few who escape that monster without injury, myself included. The fact that she is still alive and out of harm as we speak is testament to your dedication, as strange as the circumstances are.”

“I believe we can still get to her in good time,” she then said, removing her arm from his back and giving the vampire a wiry grin, “No doubt she is wondering where you are, and what a story to tell her that you were threatened with a lumos charm by another muggelborn.”

[KISTIN THEODORE CROSS !]

The continual rubbing of his shoulder brought comfort - albeit it small - to him as he recounted his tale. It was unlike him to be so variable...and so filled with emotion. Vampires were said to lose their emotions as they grew older; forget what love, hate, fear, anger and all the other things felt like. His brother, barely a year older than him, was already showing signs of it. All it proved; though it wasn't appreciated much, was that Kistin was not falling victim to that yet.

He saw Hermione visibly shudder at Fenrir's name, and felt - he didn't know why - almost doubly aggrieved. He knew that Fenrir was widely known and widely feared...but for both of the people he had (apparently) taken under his wing now to have such adverse reactions to him was infuriating and worrying. One day he'd get rid of him. One day, when he had a limitless supply of silver, and an easy way of transporting it, Fenrir would be his. oh, what he wouldn't give for that wolf to face his fangs...sure, werewolf blood was foul and bitter, but he would face it; just for the sheer vengeful pleasure he would get from doing so. Revenge for Ella - for the dog to face the darkness as much as he had forced her to.

Once he had finished his long explanation, Hermione's words were gratefully received. "Fenrir Greyback and the majority of children in the Wizarding World seem to have history." He commented. "And I thank you for your kind words...but I don't deserve them. Had I been quicker and rescued her before such harm befell her...then you might have had reason to praise me as you do." He looked at Hermione with sad eyes and downturned mouth. "She fought so hard not to wake up." He said, barely louder than a whisper. "The damage he has done will be...maybe not as clear to you, but obvious enough. She is but a shell of herself. Everyday she is woken to another day of relearning that life is not always full of pain...and that people do not set out to harm." He shook his head slowly. "I shudder to think how a single month with that thing could change her so completely...and harm her body and mind in the way it did." He suddenly looked to the sky, a waning moon hanging above. His voice grew slightly louder and more strong...back to what it had been before. "But I will tell you this for nothing. Should that dog ever cross my path again...he will not leave. I don't care how much I get injured in the battle between us...but he will not live to harm another person as he did her. That's a promise."

As Hermione spoke about returning to Ella, he smiled at her. "Hopefully she won't think I've abandoned her. And yes...being threatened by a woman holding nothing more than a glorified magic torch." He said, shaking his head. "Hardly the image of the protector!" He added, raising an eyebrow. He looked at his free hand, all blistered and red. "At least I know I have to be careful with you around. Dear me..." he suddenly added. "...When Ella gets better, I'll have no chance...the first time we met she gave me a full dental inspection and then promised to make me her pet...so I'll have her threatening things, and you carrying out the threat otherwise!" He laughed.

[OOC: I apologise for the second paragraph. It's the first time I've really got to play Dark!Kistin, so I kinda went to town!! XD]

[HERMIONE JEAN GRANGER!]

“Even if Ella Smith is, as you claim, but a shell of her former self,” Hermione said gently, matching Kistin’s low tone, “Already she and you alike have my deepest respect. Not everyone is able or wishes to wake after an assault of that magnitude. A good deal of those who do open their eyes cannot grapple with the notion of an unfair world. Fewer yet see any ounce of good in another in the wake of this struggle. You may believe that you came too late, but surely Ella nor myself can accuse you of dallying.” Her hands again buried themselves in to her pockets, her breath out now clearly visible as a mild white mist. How this man... vampire... was able to keep himself from freezing was beyond her comprehension. He did have blood running through his veins, skin like hers... how would it not be chilled from this November air?

“I will be the second to applaud you once you kill that monster,” she continued, “After Ella and the combined chorus of every person he had wronged. He stands only for darkness, a being of my own enemy’s side.”

It was then when she noticed the blistering on Kistin’s hands. Think, Hermione, think... why would he have such injuries there? It reminded her of much larger versions of a tiny pinprick of a blister she had gotten when she had burnt the tip of her finger in a stove when she was ten years old...

A burn? Wait... vampires cannot be exposed to bright light. They burn at a much faster rate than the average human, their skin much more sensitive.

Oh no.

“I am so terribly sorry,” she blurted out, suddenly sounding horribly sad and guilty. “Look at your hand; I really wounded you, didn’t I? Does it hurt? Oh, I know I have some essence of dittany in my bag, please let me get it out for you...” She furiously took her bag out and began digging through the expansible bag, brows furrowed and looking frustrated. Once again, Hermione Granger’s protective and motherly nature was taking control of her. How dare she harm this man who took so kindly to her...

[KISTIN THEODORE CROSS !]

As Hermione spoke of her respect for Ella and him, Kistin nodded silently, "She's getting there." He said, quietly. "I know she was aiming to run away from all of this before she got attacked...and if she wishes to still do so when she has healed, then I will go with her." He turned to Hermione. "But even if we do go, I will make sure you...and those you yourself are helping - know, if not our whereabouts, a place where you can come and meet should you need it."

He saw her breath forming droplets in the air, and was surprised she was so cold. He didn't understand why he didn't feel as cold as she did, but guessed it might have had something to do with never feeling the warmth when the Sun came out, so being more used to and adapted to the cold night air.

He was slightly surprised to hear her backing his...rather large...promise. "Once Ella has recovered enough to function fully on her own, and I have the resources I need, Fenrir will get to see the full extent of a vampire's wrath. He may be one of the oldest werewolves known to live in this country...but he has barely half the years I have to my name."

He noticed Hermione looking at his hands, and said nothing. The wounds would heal; it would just take longer than the equivalent wound on a human. A while longer, albeit, but it wasn't life threatening, just bloody painful!

The sudden dawning across Hermione's face would have made him laugh had it not been in the circumstances they were in; and the guilt in her voice. "It's fine." he replied. "It's just a bit tender." but she was already digging through that bag of hers. "No need to feel guilty, though," he said, with a small smile. "You did the sensible thing - lighting your wand to see if it was friend or foe. You just had the unfortunate luck of running into one of the few people that that action is painful to. Anyone else would have been slightly blinded, but uninjured." He said, shrugging.

[HERMIONE JEAN GRANGER!]

"Nonsense!" Hermione said firmly using her favorite word, not looking up from her searching, "I injured you. As sensible as it was at the time to illuminate my surroundings, it was foolish. I should have noticed before..." Her voice was shrill, but she managed to keep herself quiet enough so that if anyone else were to pass by they would be alerted to their presence. A look of satisfaction appeared on her face as she pulled out from deep in the bottomless bag a tiny vial of cloudy, brownish liquid. Some of it had already been used up; the last time she was forced to take this bottle from her bag was when Ronald Weasley had his shoulder splinced during a botched apparation attempt. Since then, her injuries had either been healed with an episkey charm or another bottle of skelo-grow.

Despite healing charms, some did scar. Every time she would arch or stretch her neck, a flicker of a scar would become visible on its right side. That knife wound, inflicted by Bellatrix Lestrange many years ago, just would not respond to scar-removing creams and potions.

Another 'red badge of courage', she concluded.

"We can start walking back now," she said, nodding in the direction of the cave, to her knowledge, "But when we return I insist that you apply a few drops of this to your hands and rub it in. Essense of dittany is a powerful healing substance; so strong it can stop scarring created from wounds produced by the secrumsepra curse. Trust me..." She inwardly chuckled, chuffed. Draco Malfoy had been on the receiving end of that spell when they were back in Hogwarts during her sixth year. He was lucky, in her mind, to just have faint lines along his chest from the attack. It was a bit of irony, now that his father too has scars on her torso resulting for that spell...

Ironic and satisfactory.

[KISTIN THEODORE CROSS !]

Kistin gave up trying to convince her that he was okay, and let her carry on with her rummaging in peace. When she finally looked up, a bottle in her hand, he heard her speak. He took the bottle, and nodded gratefully. "Yes, let's get going." He replied, getting ready to take the lead once more. "And I'll put some of that on my hands, I promise." He added.

Looking out to the far more overgrown pathway they were about to head down, he looked down at the pile of clothes held tightly in the crook of his arm. He thought about everything he had risked...and was risking for the girl in the cave...everything he was giving up...the unknown he now faced and the life he was looking to lead. And as he did so, he found his attention drawn more to what he had gained - a woman who needed his care, people like Hermione who needed (well...maybe "wanted" rather than "needed") his protection, and a whole host of people out there who were in the same boat as Ella and Hermione every day of their lives. His life was changing rapidly, and with such a drastic change came drastic danger...but he could face it.

Every day was a new challenge...but it was also another chance to make things better. And vampires barely ever got the chance to make things better rather than worse.