Magical Hogwarts

@Leo Lizdeikaitis , 18th September 2005
If you wanna take a bite, wanna see the dark side,
come on, turn off the light, come on, turn off the light;
Are you curious enough to taste it?

Kostas let out a deep exhale, sitting without moving a little longer and letting the dark magic lick at his skin like a vivacious creature. Perhaps it wanted more of the Thestral blood, perhaps it wanted more of him, but Kostantinos felt the magnificent power around him swirl like a purring creature, then shiver before there was a distinct feeling of closing as the ritual finally came to an end. He let out another deep exhale and finally let his eyes open again, blinking a few times to adjust to the dim light—mainly moonlight streaming through the windows illuminating everything around him.

There was a slight burning feeling on his lower stomach, from a fresh sigil he had engraved permanently into his skin, but the pain was hardly noticeable for the Klyk Vampira. He didn’t perform rituals at school that often, but he’s been planning to add this sigil onto his body for a few months, and tonight turned out to be a particularly suited full moon to do so. Plus, having the ease of using a wand instead of relying on no magic or only magic performed through hand gestures was a nice change.

He picked up the now empty chalice (which had been previously filled with a mix of blood and ink) and carefully stepped out of the blood-drawn ritual circle. Kostas rarely used his own blood as it was a precious resource—he most often used blood from animals and magical creatures—even Thestral blood, like today, as their potent connection to Death made his rituals all the more powerful. He didn’t even need to kill them to get what he needed, the creatures trusted him and he learned how to get their blood frugally and with gentleness. Using a few simple spells to keep the liquid fresh was important, but even those had its limits. For that reason he had needed to take the time out to do this ritual as soon as possible, before the blood lost some of its magical potency.

Konstantinos wasn’t rushing anywhere. He felt great, he felt relaxed and at home, in his element. He regarded his new ‘tattoo’ (added to the collection of other sigils,  runes, magical texts and weird occult symbols already tattooed on his body) with a satisfied smile and moved to clothe himself and start cleaning up slowly. He needed to make sure no one would be able to find any traces of blood or magic left behind.

However, tonight the world had different plans, it seemed, as Kostas heard footsteps first before the door opened (he knew he had forgotten about something). He’d raised enough spells to prevent people from coming around, he had thought—and picked a classroom which was not usually used. Perhaps it was the subtle light of the candles in an otherwise dark room (bar the moonlight), or perhaps the other just happened to be very unlucky (or lucky, depending on the angle) to come across this precise spot—maybe they were more sensitive to the magic around (even if Kostas has dampened the surroundings with spells).

He looked towards the intruder, tan skin in the warm candlelight appearing almost golden—eyes dark and intense. A sharp, perhaps a slightly feral grin spread over his lips. “Well, hello there,” he greeted the intruder, eyes drawing from the white hair to the hazel eyes. Kostas finished putting the chalice and his wand onto the desk where he had left his clothes and other things he had taken along but hadn’t actually needed during the ritual itself—seemingly unbothered by the interruption. He was also unbothered by the fact that he was naked (though some of the desks he had moved around covered him a little from where he was standing), or that his hands and arms were red—stained from the blood. “Has a little lamb lost its way and crawled right into the dark pit where the wolf eats dinner?” He chuckled, making eye contact with the Klyk Vampira boy.

Empty bowl in hand, sandalwood/myrrh incense in one pocket, mugwort sprig in another, Leo made his way quickly but quietly down the corridors. The dimly lit halls of Durmstrang echoed with the hushed sounds of Leo's footsteps as he navigated the labyrinth, planning to arrive at his intended location before 2am when the full moon would be highest. Thoughts of his upcoming divination ritual occupied his mind, the anticipation of the full moon casting an ethereal glow on his determined expression.

As he neared the chosen infrequently used classroom, Leo mentally reviewed the details of the ritual he planned to undertake. Conjured candles, a silk cloth, and a reflective surface of conjured water would set the stage for his attempt to delve into the mysteries of Divination. His family's legacy of Seers weighed on him, a silent expectation to unlock latent abilities that had eluded him thus far. In truth his father had already written him off as a failure, which made Leo all the more determined to succeed in this plus take his House Quidditch team and House Duelling team to decisive victory.

Encountering not a soul on his way to the school’s depths, Leo felt very good about his chances tonight. As he approached the classroom door, he even wondered absent-mindedly why he hadn’t seen any sentinels or patrolling professors. But it wasn’t until he started to push the door open that he registered the dim light of candles inside, and at first thought he wouldn’t have to conjure any of his own (as long as they were silver or white). Then the door continued to open wide (with no creaking of hinges) and revealed the room was already occupied.

The tall, tanned, well-muscled, dark-haired form in front of him was unmistakable even if he had never seen it naked. The interplay of a variety of runic sigils, including a very fresh-looking one over his abdominals, added an element of dark allure and sexy danger to the unclothed vision that regarded Leo with piercing, dark moss green eyes. A wicked grin spread across the occupant’s face as he gave Leo a greeting that thrilled the white-haired boy from neck to toes.

“Kostas,” he purred, making his appreciation of the naked form before him very obvious. “I thought you knew about my family. We’re wolves too… iron wolves.” The history of the Lizdeikaitis family was very entwined in the history of Lithuania, and the founder of his dynasty had been the one who saw the prophecy of the Iron Wolf standing where the city of Vilnius was now established.

“To be frank, I came down here for some good old-fashioned moon magic, but now that you mention it…” he licked his lips. “Now I am awfully hungry for some reason.”

Even while engaging in the sly, flirtatious conversation, Leo’s eyes roamed over Kostas’ body. Half because he was so deliciously attractive, but half because he was examining the runes and symbols that adorned his body. Some he recognized and some he did not. The fact that several of them looked particularly bloody (aside from the clearly just completed one) did not dissuade him in the slightest… in fact, he was impressed, and attracted. He stepped closer automatically as he looked the Greek boy over.

“I hope I’m not interrupting,” he added, a little more seriously. “I could find another room to use if I have to, but I have to admit, I really don’t want to.”

Leo’s reaction to his presence (and state of undress) was certainly eager, if not outright  fervent. He did know about Leo’s family, it was a bit impossible to not know, considering Leo clearly held his bloodline in high esteem. Kostas revered his family too, but the Krizanić had always been rather wild and free in terms of society’s constructs. Kostas’ right eyebrow hitched higher on his forehead, as if to say ‘so what’—but he did like the other’s reply, it was fun when a person tugged back.

“I never said I'm the wolf. There’s a difference between an Iron wolf and a wolf-born god.” He chuckled, baring his teeth a little with his next smile. “You speak of lineage and legacy, but even the mightiest of wolves bow to the gods, ” he added on, and winked. There were rumours, mostly long lost in time to the public about their family and their origin—however, Kostas knew them well, had learnt their family history diligently to know they used to be connected deeply to Greek religion and numerous deities. From what Konstantinos was taught, many of their members used to delve deep into the Occult and similar practices, now a little lost to time in favour of Dark arts. Kostas? Thanks to Jeffrey he was up to his ears buried not only in Darker magics but also in the Occult.

As a kid he used to wonder how real were the stories he had been told and heard so much about, until he had decided to do an invocation ritual—now, he could still feel the simmering burning magic dragging down along his spine, curling at the base and within where his root chakra was located. He swayed a little into the feeling, the candles in the room flickering wildly for a second (and one of them going out) as another wave of warmth covered his bare form—he enjoyed the feeling.

Leo’s comment about being hungry amused him—the boy’s wandering eyes looked upon him with a mix of curiosity and clear want (which did surprise him to a point, he had no idea about Leo's tastes). Kostas hid his tattoos and sigils cleverly, but like this there was no way to cover it up. He wasn’t worried however, he could deal with someone like Lizdeikaitis, if needed.

“Shouldn’t you have an offering for a deity? Especially if you desire your hunger to be satiated. It matters little if you’re the predator or a prey, or both,” he chuckled, looking the other over—Kostas himself looked much less of a wolf and much more like an omniscient and omnivorous crow. The dark magic surrounding Kostas at this moment was unmistakable, wild and so potent—so fresh after the performed ritual. The sigil on his abdomen seemed to glow faintly for a moment. Kostas’ tone of voice was much less flirtatious than Leo’s speech, but he was playing along, having fun and poking to see the boy react. There was a part of him, a little surprised perhaps, at the nonchalance of catching him performing a dark ritual—although Kostas wasn’t sure the other would be able to fully realise how dark and advanced the magic was, since the circle was drawn and written with the help of Ancient Greek.

“You don’t have to.” He shrugged, “but I need to clean up after myself first.” He told him, honestly. He finally reached out for some of his clothes and slipped on his underwear, before turning to face Leo again, looking down at him now that the boy was closer. He stepped a little closer too, allowing more of the candlelight to play across his form, the blood-stained sigils on his body a map of his journey through the realms of magic and mystery. “You wouldn’t want anything from what I’ve done to leak into whatever moon ritual you’re planning to do.” As he said it, the shadows behind him seemed to writh a little. “Wouldn’t want you to get hurt.” He grinned.

“Hmm. An offering,” Leo thought about it as he examined Kostas’ legs, and by extension, the Ionic letters on the ground. Greek, but not Greek. Kostas was doing old magic, then. Blood magic, dark magic. Gods, Leo wanted to know all about it. But he was an expert at biding his time, even when going up against someone like Kostas that could make him blush. And that was with his clothes on.

The placid arrogance that Kostas spoke to him with was attractive, and familiar - it was a tone that Leo used when addressing peers and inferiors alike. Few people fought against it; they either already believed it, or couldn’t comprehend what the voice meant, or couldn’t verbalize why it made them uncomfortable and thus chose not to address it, letting it fester and making them question themselves.

For just a second, maybe two, Leo had that sense of discomfort that he was so used to inflicting, noting that Kostas was talking “down” to him. But then he accepted it, not as an inferior but simply as a lesser. Leo already knew he was only a big fish in his own circles, and out in the rest of the wizarding world, his family and his name might have some influence, but it was still what he said and more importantly what he did that would elevate him to the pedestal he sought.

“I’ll tell you what,” he finally went on as he let his gaze languidly rise back up over Kostas’ underwear and all the way up to his face. “I believe you’re right. An offering is the only appropriate recourse when a mere mortal comes upon a god unawares, especially when he interrupts something. And since I’m fortunate enough to be speaking to the god in the flesh, I’ll ask him what he wants as an offering.”

He shrugged one shoulder and inclined his head towards it, not dismissively but discerningly. “If you tell me I don’t have anything you want, I’ll thank you and move on with my ritual,” he said simply, “but if you have something you want to take, just let me know.” The ball was back in Kostas’ court. Leo enjoyed playing the game, but only if it was in earnest.

Konstantinos watched, eyes attentive, as Leo gazed at the ritual circle and more of his body. He could not deny that he was curious how Leo would respond. He was in no rush to get away despite his plans being interrupted.

When Leo started talking about an offering as the only appropriate recourse, he had to admit to himself that Leo exceeded his expectations a little.

And yet, a devious spark entered Konstantinos’ eyes. Such an open question—so full of possibilities to ask for anything. Such a rash move from Leo’s side, but Konstantinos saw no reason to warn him that giving such a tempting offer so willingly and so easily, wide open, was a little dangerous. Prime for picking.

Konstantinos wasn’t the type of man who would pass an opportunity by, the worst (or best?) kind of match up. He let out a hum, thinking, mind flicking with possibilities for a moment—then he stepped closer to the boy, angling his head lower to look upon Leo. “There is a phenomenon in astronomy called galaxy cannibalism.” He spoke up and took another step closer while simultaneously to the left. He started slowly, step by step, making a singular circle around the other like a predator around its prey. He was in no hurry.

“Where two systems spin close enough, the heavier, with stronger gravity,” in that moment he paused in front of Leo again, finishing his circle, one muscular arm reaching out to wrap a bigger palm around Leo’s hand and he tugged him closer, “—starts to pull the other closer.” He was looking directly into the other’s eyes as he spoke. “They can dance for a long time, but the bigger galaxy slowly absorbs the lesser one, until it consumes it whole.”

He paused for a moment in his 'monologue' and reached his other hand forward to clasp around Leo’s wrist, fingers teasing over his pulse. “The offering begins with the mouth,” his lips spread into a sharp smile, “the tongue, the wanting.” It was curious the way Konstantinos spoke each word,  so careful, so full of care, so salacious almost. “The first poem in the world is ‘I want to eat for I hunger’.” His tone of voice dipped lower at the end, growing rougher.

The hand around Leo’s wrist shifted and started slowly moving higher then, sliding beneath his sleeve, rolling said garment up as his fingers tracked higher. “Both eater and eaten. Devourer and devoured.” He let his nails graze against Leo’s skin teasingly. “One who hungers and one who quenches hunger.” He paused for a moment, eyes flicking down to the other’s arm, drinking in the warmth coming through the touch and tracking the veins with his eyes. “His teeth are dripping red. Drip, drip, drip.” He slid one of his fingers along one vein until it disappeared deeper into Leo’s flesh. While most of the blood on his hands was dry by now, he left a few faint smudges. “It is often a ritual, a sacrifice, an offering; and with it — the control and the ecstasy. This one is so willing too.” He purred, eyes locking with Leo again.
      
“One is unlikely to feed the god with something you won’t eat yourself, but you won’t satisfy god by feeding him what satisfies you, because ancient things have stranger hungers.” Although he could ask for something much stranger than what he would, he knew.

“Mhm,” he hummed low in throat as he dragged his fingers higher up Leo’s arm, rolling the sleeve up with the movement, revealing more soft and pale skin beneath, twined with veins of stark contrast in shade. “Then perhaps, this god shall ask for your blood,” he flicked his eyes up to connect with Leo’s again, never looking away for long, digging his thumb against the other’s pulse with the hand that was still holding Leo’s. “Such a precious resource. What could be more precious than the life pumping in your veins, hm?” He tilted his head a little, eyes dark and a grin spreading over his lips again.

Konstantinos did not play false games, he was earnest for sure, however, he was willing to go beyond and further with nonchalance that could perhaps be chilling to some—the question was now if Leo would pull back or step over the line willingly.