Sanguis Vita Est

It was late...too late to be roaming the corridors of the castle, but that is what Marguerite was doing. There was a great danger of being caught by any teachers patrolling the hallways, or that pesky poltergeist who delighted in alerting the whole castle when a student was out of bed. Marguerite's night-time wanderings were usually taken outside the castle, into the grounds or the Forbidden Forest; where she was much less likely to be seen. Tonight was special; however, tonight, she was out to steal a certain potion. She was not sure whether the castle's hospital carried exactly what she was looking for, but there were only two ways to find out, and she highly doubted the school nurse would tell her. It was too obvious why she would want it, and she highly doubted the school head would approve.

Marguerite's feeding on her newly entrusted 'Donor' earlier that night had shaken her a bit. She had the art of feeding on a living being without killing them down to perfection when she had last entertained Donors, but that had been over a century ago. She had become to thirsty for living blood recently, and she had taken too much. She had given the boy his strength back with the use of her own blood, but she could not continue to do that, lest he become a ghoul. The only other option she could see in front of her, was to steal some blood replenishing potion from the hospital wing until she fell back into the art of feeding from a Donor. She would not risk bleeding the boy too dry again, unless she had some back-up.

Marguerite arrived outside the hospital wing, crouching close to the floor, making it more difficult for her profile to be deciphered through the darkness. She had no way of knowing whether there were any students within the hospital dormitory or not. If there were, a nurse would surely be in there to monitor them. She couldn't be sure whether or not the nurse always slept in the wing. Marguerite would just have to proceed under the assumption that they did, which meant being extra quiet.

Marguerite squeezed past the heavy wooden doors and found herself standing between the two lines of beds. She did a quick visual sweep of the room. Surely, the potions would be kept in the Head Nurse's office. Marguerite approached the door separating the patient beds from the nurse's station. She reached her hand out and grasped the handle, trying the door to see if it was locked.

Locking doors was for fools, especially in Hogwarts, where the unlocking charm was taught to second years. Angelique far preferred the host of caterwauling charms she'd set up to sound like a grotesque parody of Toccata and Fugue in D Minor whenever someone touched the door. For one thing, it was creepy as hell (well, assuming there was anyone at this school who'd not yet been through hell, which was hard to imagine), it at least alerted her when there was someone at the door and any child who didn't get scared back to their common room by it probably did need medical assistance.

Those charms, however, usually didn't go off during the night. It usually meant one thing. Either someone was about to spew over her nice clean floor (not that Angelique ever actually cleaned it; that's what house elves were for) or they thought her potions store was easier to knock over than d'Eath's. Right.

Hoping it was the second one, since she really didn't like vomit and she really did like making people see the error of their ways, Angelique pushed herself out of the chair she'd been napping in and grabbed an apron. If it was the vomit, she at least wanted a barrier.

Angelique pulled the door inwards to see a pale little girl standing in front of her.

"What?" she snapped.

Marguerite winced as the piercing sound echoed through the room as soon as her hand had touched the doorknob. For not the first time, Marguerite was forcibly reminded that this was the wizarding world. They had more reliable methods of preventing a break-in. Many times Marguerite found herself wishing that she was back in the good 'ol muggle world, before there were such things as electronic alarms...and definitely no magical means of detection. This was definitely one of those times.

Marguerite considered running off, but she knew that the noise would likely have already attracted Peeves, who seemed to have a sixth sense for when and where all the excitement in the castle was happening. He'd probably be waiting for her right outside, ready to wake up the whole castle with his cries of 'student out of bed!' Instead, Marguerite stood at the door as if frozen by surprise, a grim look on her face. She had barely conceived any sort of thought as to how she would explain herself when the door flew open and the nurse was standing in front of her.

"Errr..." Marguerite answered, her hesitation likely not helping her any, "I'm an anemic and I believe I need some blood-replenishing potion. I, uh, feel clammy and weak...and my skin has become very pale."

Marguerite guessed that the lie wasn't too bad for having to think it up right on the spot, which she was not very good at. She would feel cool to the touch, and her skin was pale....she could only hope that this nurse was extremely gullible. Marguerite steeled herself to be extremely disappointed on this point.

Angelique cut off the caterwauling charms, since she'd found her little miscreant.

"Huh," she replied to the girl's explanation. "Come in."

She retreated into the room, but rather than moving toward the potions cupboard, Angelique stopped in front of a row of filing cabinets that dominated the far wall of the room.

"Sit," she ordered, gesturing to the chair she'd been napping in just moments before.

"Now, your name is?"

"Well, so far so good..." Marguerite thought to herself as she followed Angelique into the room, "At least she hasn't raised her voice to me yet...but I wonder whether I can actually get away with this..."

Marguerite sat in the chair indicated by Angelique. She closed her legs together, sitting slightly sideways and bent at the knee. Her hands were folded primly in her lap...most definitely not like a slouchy teen would sit.

"I am Marguerite de....Marguerite Lancret," Marguerite replied, mentally slapping herself for using the honorific before her surname.

A drawer slid out of the cabinet; Krum - Lewis. Files flickered beneath Angelique's fingertips until she finally withdrew one labelled 'de Lancret, Marguerite' along with one other notation in bright purple ink.

Angelique raised an eyebrow as she flicked to the first page of the patient's file.

"Anaemic, eh?" she repeated. "That's not what it says here."

Marguerite cringed, plastering a sheepish smile on her face. She should have known that weak lie would not get her through this mess.

"Well...." Marguerite replied, her brain working over-time, "I suppose technically you could call me anemic....I do have a shortage of red blood cells, which do not replenish themselves."

Marguerite faltered, thinking that if she began to try and reason her way out of this, it would only make the woman angry.

"I will not be able to reason my way out of this one, will I?" Marguerite asked, dropping any pretense.

Closing the filing cabinet with her hip, Angelique moved back across to the main desk and perched herself upon it, mere inches away from the vampire girl.

Eyes glinting in the lamplight, she could feel her pulse begin to race as she slowly smiled.

It was not the usual smile she flashed at patients in the Wing; this was more the smile of a predator who'd just caught the scent of a small and injured woodland creature. Although she had plenty of opportunity to make people's lives uncomfortable here in the Wing, it had been a long time since Angelique had properly matched wits with anyone. She had never found out who the Wiccan had been and here she was almost missing him.

"Probably not," she agreed. "Most people agree I'm not very reasonable. Do feel free to try, though."