Deceiving Fate

[Braeden]

Braeden walked slowly are morosely through the darkening graveyard, dusk was just beginning to settle and the sounds from the forest were drifting across the otherwise silent graveyard. Braeden bent down and seated himself at the base of an impressive angel statue, deep in thought. The visions of a school in turmoil, ending in his end.

That would be the entire reason he transferred here but he started to doubt which school it refereed to. He sighed, if his parents had waited, maybe this wouldn’t have happened. The entire twistedness of fate. Trying to escape it was idiocy, his parents should have realised that but the muggle hating idiots couldn’t see past their own arrogance.

He slammed his fist back into the angel, leaving it for a moment at the point of collision, then he pulled in back in front of his face. Blood decorated every fine knuckle. He looked up, staring into the dying day. Bleeding so close to night wasn’t clever, not with both Vampires and Lycans near. He muttered a protection spell, a blue aura shining around him for a moment, then it seeped slowly into his flesh.

Sighing he fell back against the angel, cursing every part of Britain, piece by piece.

ooc: Invite only Loves

[Laura (away)]

"Bloody illness," muttered Laura darkly as she strode through the grounds, determined to dispel the feeling of nausea that had been plaguing her for the past few days. She was sure that it was merely the lack of fresh air that she had been getting recently, so she had resolved on a short walk.

Laura wasn't really paying attention to where she was heading, and before she knew it, her feet had taken her to the entrance to the Graveyard.
"Ironic," she muttered, smiling wryly. "That my subconscious leads me to a place of mourning without the help of my conscious mind."

However, she didn't turn back, and, despite the sun's ever progressing descent towards the western horizon, she didn't feel the apprehension that most would feel. What did she have to worry about anyway? Her cousin now walked with the dead, what reason was there for Laura to remain with the living?

She set a slow pace between the looming headstones, but before she had gone more than twenty meters found herself confronted with the last person she had expected. Sitting against a large headstone that was shaped like an angel, sat none other than Braeden, who had become somewhat of an enemy to her over the last few months.

"Oh look who it is," she spat after a moment, glaring down at him with dislike written all over her attractive visage, unable to quite see what he was doing due to the mounting darkness.

"What are you doing, creeping around the Graveyard at nightfall?" she demanded, almost incensed that he dare parade around what she had begin to think of as her own territory, she had been here so many times. Her head was throbbing fiercely, and she was in no mood to tolerate this particular annoyance who had placed himself in the way of her thoughts.

[Braeden]

He swept his hair out of his face with his bloodied hand, creating trails of a darkening crimson across his face. “Ah, My dear Miss Black, how lovely it is to see you again,” He noticed the girl seemed to have less colour than their last meet but his presence could do that to certain weaker people. “As for ‘creeping around the graveyard’ as you so insouciantly put it, well, firstly I am sitting, secondly I am thinking. The first of which I am certain you are capable of, the second how ever I doubt.”<br>
He shook his head, “but then I am answering so many questions you didn’t ask and no doubt I am hurting your pretty little head.” He place a hand sympathetically on her shoulder. His mind seared in blinding white pain for a moment. He was bed, rows and rows of hospital bed, then rows and rows of graveyards. He pulled his hand quickly away from her shoulder being sure not to betray anything i his face. His ever present snide smile in place.

“I truly enjoy graveyards, so much to learn,” It was true for him, although quite often it hurt to learn. “What about you little Miss Prefect? Shouldn’t you be terrorising some poor student with Quiditch training. Pushing them so hard yet still failing?” It was easier to discover what pushed the girl’s buttons.

[Laura (away)]

What on earth... her mind demanded, slightly numb from the shock of the dark smear of blood across her adversary's face. Blinking hard to clear it from her mind, she dragged her gaze away from the stain, and refocused once more on his dark eyes with her own bright stare.

He began with his usual taunts, but she found that her head was throbbing too hard for her to really care what he was saying. At least, until he put his hand on her shoulder. Her mind snapped back to reality, and she jerked away from his touch, as he strangely enough followed suit.

She glared at him, resisting the urge to rub her soiled shoulder, which felt oddly as if it had received an electric shock on contact. But before she had time to fully collect herself and make some witty comeback, he had begun his mocking once more, this time on a much more painful line, namely her failure in Quidditch.

Laura had to fight the urge to wrap her small hands around the boys neck as he mentioned her failure. Her face seared, burning hot, and she prayed that he would not be able to see this in the growing dimness.

"D-don't talk to me about my loss. They were only single games in a lifetime that I'll have to play. I dare say, a much more successful lifetime than your good self. Quite sad actually, that you are reduced to insulting your betters, forgetting the fact that I could kick your sorry ass at Quidditch any time I liked," she sneered, trying to affect the confidence that she usually felt.

The feeling of nausea was increasing by the hour, and she didn't know how long she'd be able to pretend not to be sick. She desparately didn't want to go to the hospital wing; she had much more important things to do.

[Braeden]

“In that state?” The boy asked sweeping his hand at her. It was true Laura did not look at all well but he boy wasn’t really concerned with her health, not really. “Ahh... insulting my betters?” he said thoughtfully, “No... I do not insult my betters, namely for two reasons. One- Lying is not something I prize well highly and secondly,” The boys smile widened slightly “My betters are very few and far between.

“As for my Quiditch skills, I don’t believe you’ve seen me play. You might change your views. I actually doubt it though...” It seemed for a moment he was admitting Laura was his better, but after a pause he finished his sentence, “People are stupidly arrogant as you usually refuse to see the light that blinds you.

“I am that light,” The boy finished impressively. Underneath his words and exterior his mind was running. What did his vision mean? The girl didn’t seem well yes... but... that didn’t account for the rest of it. Could this possible be due to his other vision? The one that caused him to move schools? Could MH have been the school that was suffer such loss, pain and death?

He watched thoughtfully as she swayed dizzily.

[Laura (away)]

Laura's anger was mounting as she glared hazily at Braeden, wishing that her giddy mind could invent a flashy riposte that would put this supercilious boy in his place, but her clouded brain yielded nothing.

"Well, aren't you the narcissistic b******?" she finally managed to mumble, resisting the urge to be sick as she brought up to shaking hands to her forehead, unable to rid herself of the nausea and lassitude that was ailing her.

"All you do is talk big, but I'll bet that if I challenged you to a one-on-one Quidditch showdown you wouldn't even have the guts to take me on, let alone actually win," she spat finally, her eyes glinting with a challenge, though they were considerably more dull that her usual sparkle.

Trembling hands brushed her dark hair from her eyes as she met his gaze with an almost steady glare.
"Prove me wrong."

[Braeden]

Braeden shook his head. “If you didn’t look so pathetic I’d suggest we fly right now,” Braeden said in a soft voice, a rather painful headache had come on unexpectedly at some point in the conversation. Almost as if it had somehow slipped in the side while no one was watching.

“Lets say first week of term, that gives you the entire summer break to practise your skills, maybe you’ll manage to do a little better than what I saw you flying at the last match,” Hs smile was coy as he pulled his bangs out of his face. His face became more serious as he met Laura’s beautiful green eye more intently, “Don’t worry ma cherie, I will slaughter you on the pitch.”

[Laura (away)]

Laura let out a short bark of laughter, but there was no mirth written anywhere in the lines of her face. Her mirth was brief, and her gaze returned to Braeden's own eyes. She shook her head slowly, trying to ignore the ever increasing pain between her eyes.

"You think I can't recognise it when someone is trying to get out of something. Oh no, I don't need any time to prepare. I think we should finish this, right here, right now. I can summon my broom to this very place. No need to prolong your pain," she added, her tone contemptuous.

"Still as brave as usual?" she enquired, trying out a malevolent grin, but only managing a weak smirk. She knew in her heart that what she was doing was stupid; she certainly wasn't in any condition for mad antics such as these, but her reckless side was shining through, unstoppable.

[Braeden]

Braeden laughed more openly, “Ma chere fille, by all means try, I won’t stop you.” He shook his head in a mixture of humour and disbelief, the girl was going to get herself killed with her arrogance.

“Quiet seriously Ms Laura, don’t be so.... so...” he searched for the english word but faiing fell back on his native french, “suffisant. It will kill you.” But he saw the resolve and passion burning in her jade eyes. The boy’s snide smile returned, he couldn’t take pity on a girl as stupid as Laura.

The boy took a step back, waiting for the prefect to do his worst, equating perfectly to her best, taking true pleasure in her incompetence due to her illness.

[Laura (away)]

"Qu'est-ce sauriez-tu, tu petite merde arrogante," hissed Laura, slightly disjointedly, a standard quite below her usual perfect French. She fumbled inside her robe pocket and drew out a want between two shaking fingers.

She wanted so badly just to lie down on the ground; curl up and hold her aching head and let exhaustion draw her into sleep. But she wasn't prepared to loose face infront of her arch rival, so she attempted the spell.

"A-accio SuperNover," she muttered, feebly waving her wand in the direction of the castle. The was a long pause, in which her face slowly turned the colour of beetroot. She hadn't failed to perform a summoning charm for over five years. How utterly humiliating.

"Accio, accio," she slurred, holding little hope. Her anger was mounting as her level of humiliation increased.
"Oh, Accio, you fu-"

Finally, the dark silhouette of her broomstick hurtled out of the darkness and into her outstretched arms, almost knocking her over with it's force. Laura refused to meet the eyes of Braeden for fear of the contempt that she would see in them. It might almost equal what she felt for herself.

[Braeden]

Braeden raised an eyebrow, looking down on the pitiful girl. He thought he should laugh at her, but something stopped him. The boy’s empathy, a largely undiscovered realm in his mind, took over. The girl seemed so pathetic without his help. He was quite sure the mental punishment the proud girl was feeling was overwhelming.

He bent down to her height, clearing her bangs out of her eyes so she could see. With is hand her her chin he forced her to look in to his grey eyes, they were clouded with slight humour, but the boy was trying to restrain himself.

“Get on that broom and you will kill yourself. Tu n’alles pas es la vie! Tu comprehend ca? Tu mourir. That’s it.” Slipping in and out of each language the boy spoke rather expressionlessly, a warmer smile dancing on her face. Any other person would have already given up, the girl’s arrogance seemed her only asset spare her beauty, it was the only thing preventing her from giving up.

“Go to the hospital wing. The flight can wait. Contact me and in a moment, I will be ready to fly you into the ground. Just leave it for tonight.”

He looked up towards the forest. Howls were echoing into the ever darkening graveyard. Night had truly fallen. He turned his head slowly towards the unseen Vampire caves, a few dark shadows slipping away in different directions.

“You are an idiot Ms Laura Black,” The boy said simply, the snide smile couldn’t have remained away from his face too long.TEXT

[Laura (away)]

Laura was struggling hard against tears that seemed determined to force themselves from her eyes, but that would be the ultimate shame. She had already lost face in so many ways, to surrender to the tears would be utterly devastating.

As she looked into his cold eyes, she was dismayed, but unsurprised to find the ever apparent traces of mockery. He still thought it was just her arrogance that had hardened her resolve.

He still didn't seem to comprehend that she didn't care if she died. To lose her honour in the face of adversity was a fate worse than death, and with Cara's death, she felt no attachment to remaining with the living.

"Then let me die," she whispered, staring for a long moment into those bottomless eyes, the world slowly spinning around her. She felt that nothing was keeping her feet on solid ground, save his firm hand on her chin, but she simply didn't care about reality any more.

Pulling out of his grasp, she took a few short steps away, and swung her leg over her broomstick with surprising ease. Her talent, despite her current state, was ever apparent, as her feet left the ground, and she easily angled the broom around, so that she was once more facing the boy.

"I may be an idiot, but no-one could call me a coward," she replied plainly, ignoring hands that shook as they clutched the familiar wood of the body of her handle.
"Are we going to do this or what?"

The urge to throw up almost overpowered her, and she was forced to lean forwards against the handle of her broom, cold perspiration dripping from her forehead as she continued to rise skywards unhindered.

[Braeden]

Braeden’s smirk increased as he lifted his wand, twisting it in his delicate fingers. “Caduceus,” He said with a trivial sigh and a vicious flick of his wand. As if Laura’s broom had just been caught in a flood it pelted back towards the graves that marked the botanically barren scrap of land at an alarmingly high speed. Laura was scarcely inches from the ground and with her current velocity, a crash seemed emanate.

”Conquiesco,” Braeden said lightly, crouching down next to the girl as she halted falling instantly. “tut, tut, tut,” His patronising voice just loud enough to be heard over the pumping in Laura’s head. “I said before, we will do this later, this is not the night for it. I’d hate to beat you while you are ill. It would leave space for delusions that you are better than me,” He picked up the feverish girl, throwing one of her arms over his shoulder.

“How strangely reminiscent of our first meeting. Now, you have three options, I leave you hear and call over a few vampires, I drop you in the lake, or I tale you back to the castle.

“Decide quickly, or I’ll pick the first for you.” On any other occasion he’d leave the girl here, but this time, that would achieve him failure. To fight a weakened opponent, although he may win, he wouldn’t receive any satisfaction. He wanted Laura in her best shape, it would make the victory all the more spectacular.

[Laura (away)]

"Faire que vous voulez avec moi," hissed Laura, but her words were so slurred that she doubted that he could understand her. Struggling weakly against his strong grip, she managed to achieve nothing but increased vertigo.

"I hate you, almost as much as I hate me," she mumbled, forcing back those dreaded tears once more, her brows furrowed with frustration and pain. How could she have let her get into such a humiliating situation?

There was something about this boy that she had never experienced before, and unfortunately, it seemed to always result in a loss of dignity for her, in some way or another. Was she always to be shamed in his eyes?

"But do us a favour, and get your filthy hands off me," she mumbled, barely suppressing a moan of pain, as her mind finally slipped into the black void of unconsciousness.

[Braeden]

He laughed as the girl fell silent and still in his arms. “Idiot girl,” He said, clearing her hair out of her face. This girl was so pigheaded, all it did was make her look stupid. He didn’t really care if the girl hated him and he knew she didn’t mean what she said. How could anyone hate someone like him?

Shaking his head he slowly carried the small prefect back to her towards the castle and her commonroom.