How to Sell Your Soul to the Devil Herself

It hit. Of course it did, Katrina-Carlotta rarely missed a target. But then again, Albus Potter was hardly her average target either. No, he was more. The dark witch had known since the moment that she had set eyes on him that Albus was special. There was just something about the man, but for the life of her the European wouldn't be able to put a finger on it. Albus was special. He just was.

Which was why, Katrina-Carlotta found herself eyeing the man uncertainly as he fell to his knees. By her own standards, this was probably one of the worst curses to have cast upon oneself. While the Unforgivable known for horrific pain was terrible in its own right, this curse delivered the same pain, just mentally. And to someone like her or Albus, a mental attack was always, always worse.

Perhaps she had been a bit too harsh. This duel was only for practice, after all. For a moment the dark witch considered lifting the curse, if only so that the man wouldn't be harmed. Strengthening her resolve, Katrina-Carlotta pushed that thought away. She needed to see what Albus could handle, what he was capable of. As much as she wanted the man to like her, he'd come here to be trained, not coddled. Besides, duels were hardly the place for emotions.

It was then that the Potter broke her spell. The dark-haired woman almost wanted to tell him just how impressive that was, but he'd looked at her with eyes darkened and filled with rage. She should have known it was coming, but she didn't. That's now the witch found herself moments away from being hit by an unforgivable. Panicking slightly, the woman ended up apperating a single foot to the left. She'd been hit by that curse more times in her lifetime than she could count, but something told her that if Albus's curse had met it's mark, it would have hurt more than any before it.

Gasping for a second upon her imperfect landing, Katrina-Carlotta trained her wand upon her student once more. "Attonbitus," the woman cast quickly, hoping her spell would hit. The curse sent a bolt of lightning towards the target, and was generally very hard to dodge. Her aim was unsteady, however, due to the too-hasty apperation. She could only hope that the difficulty of dodging the spell would help to make up for her lack of aim.

Albus closed his eyes, if only for a second. Anger lost you the duel before you ever truly fought it, that much he had learnt from watching James and people in his family. He couldn't afford it now. Somehow, the second Katrina-Carlotta had cast the curse on him, something in the duel had changed. The atmosphere had grown heavy, charged, stirring with magic. Perhaps his own magic. The stakes were higher now, and this had morphed from a practice duel to a fight he couldn't think of losing. She had hit too close to home. Too....personal.

And when his eyes opened after a split second, his vision was clear. But his heart pounded hard, and rage simmered in his bloodstream. Mentor or not, no one messed with his emotions like that. 

When a burning, crackling sound penetrated his ears, Albus half-thought the atmosphere had literally caught on fire from the magical off-shoots. But a curse zoomed towards him, cold, devastating lightning; impossible to dodge. Albus lifted his wand up, stabbed it down viciously in a slashing motion, and cleaved the lightning down the middle.

The smell of smoke, and electricity assaulted his nostrils. His hair was standing on end. Albus took a step forward, and felt weakness seep down his legs, his back. Throwing off the nightmare curse, casting two high-powered Dark spells back to back, and this final parry, had sapped his power and limited stamina. This blow would be the last one, atleast for him. And he needed to make it count.

Albus took another step, and lifted his face to the sky. The loaded, charged air brushed past his outstretched hands, his robes as a cold, bracing wind. He incanted the words mentally, a slow Latin chant. After a few seconds, hisses filled the air.

The grass around them, growing in the Green Desert of Wales, contorted; growing and increasing in height and twisting until.......the mass Transfiguration was complete. Two feet away from him, pythons curled, a viper nudged against his ankle, cobras reared up into the air, tongue flickering out to taste the air. Awaiting command.

He looked at Katrina-Carlotta directly, slowly. His tongue curled around the syllables....of the ancient tongue he had never spoken before, but which came to him as naturally as breathing.

"Attack her."

She was screwed. Albus had blocked her bolt of lightning, something that the dark witch had hoped would not happen, but had expected all the same. Anger and magic was seeping out of every pore of the wizard, and the fire in the Potter's eyes screamed for vengeance. The dark witch felt her magic, flowing out of her body and into the air, where it crackled with the younger male's, almost as if their very magic was in battle with the other as the two humans were.

The atmosphere was a combination of toxic and exhilarating for Katrina-Carlotta, but her mind had no time to focus on that fact. Her eyes were glued to the ex-Hogwarts student, curious as to how he would retaliate.

Then Albus had started casting, and as the grass began to twist, the dark witch realized what was happening a moment before it did. An almost hypnotizing sound escaped from the Potter's lips, and the dark witch inhaled sharply on shock. It didn't matter that she had been expecting it, the sound of parseltongue escaping Albus's lips was still a surprise. A sudden assault of thoughts were simultaneously running through the woman's head.

Albus was a snake-speaker. How incredibly enraged he must be to use the language without a thought. How he would probably regret that later. How she could do so much more with him now. And lastly, how on Earth was she going to block this attack.

The dark witch had allowed her thoughts to run away with her. This was only a mock-duel, but with the way they were fighting, lack of concentration for a single moment could be deadly. Multiple snakes were seconds away from being in position to end her, and the witch was mentally grasping at straws. Katrina-Carlotta was most worried about the single viper. If that thing bit her, the woman's blood would be solid in seconds. The cobras were worrying as well, with their ability to both spit and inject their venom.

"Consisto," Katrina-Carlotta cast desperately, freezing all of the serpents in their current position, one of which being a python with fangs half-sunk into her leg. Ripping her limb out of the frozen amphibian's grasp, the dark witch refused to let Albus see just how much that had rattled her.

"Is that the best you can do?" the assassin taunted, wand raised and smirk plastered in place. She ignored the blood gushing from her leg. "I may have been wrong before when I said that little Jack Dyllan wanted you, I'm now almost certain that it's the other way 'round," Katrina-Carlotta announced loudly and breathlessly, desperate for something that would distract her dueling partner. Sending a wordless Capistrum towards the male, the European hoped that Albus would be distracted enough to not block the cham in time. If it hit, the spell would freeze Albus in place, much like the more complicated spell had stopped his snakes. It was only after the spell had been sent, that the woman admitted to herself why she was so shaken. If she had been bitten by the viper instead of one of the pythons, the witch might've lost more than just the duel.

Albus didn't allow himself to think. Thinking was too risky now, entirely unwanted. He was flowing, flowing with the storm. Hesitations, doubts.....all had been burned away, the flame of nightmares melting the wax of moralities. His head was pounding steadily, his wand a constant vibration in his hand. If he had spared a split-second to think, he would have known. If he had seen himself from the eyes of another, he would have realised. Realised why exactly he was so capable of being a Dark wizard.

Albus wasn't cold blooded. He never had been. He didn't find enjoyment in killing, hurting, torture, manipulation. Sadism was as far from his psyche as it got. He was kind, generous, humorous even at times. He received nothing but a quiet, scholarly joy on studying the Arts. Actual practice sickened him. If he had been in his right mind, he would never even have dreamed of committing the acts, casting the curses that he had. 

But there were moments when the pin-precision control snapped, when his eyes turned black, and he paid the cost of masking, suppressing his emotions at all times. At those moments, his very control over his magic disintegrated and he flowed, doing what seemed most natural to him. Resentment, anger, fear....all emotions rose to the fore and he was free.

Maybe wrong, to betray his conscience. Or right, to stay true to himself. All was subjective. Right now, he was free.

A python sunk its fangs into Katrina-Carlotta's skin, and the corner of Albus's lips flickered up briefly, in imitation of a half-formed feeling of satisfaction somewhere in his mind. Coppery liquid trickled out of her leg, and inspite of feeling like he would collapse any second, Albus gave himself the freedom to smile. One anti-clot charm, and everything was over.

Then she spoke, and the world turned on its head.

For a few belated seconds, Albus felt his heartbeat echo in his ear. Thump. Thump. Thump. Then a spell zoomed towards his right hand, and ice flooded in his veins, his very muscles and tendons contracting and spasming, freezing up. His wand slipped out of his numbed fingers, and clattered on the ground.

The first one to lose his weapon loses. Classic dueling rules.

God, he wished he could give a f*ck.

He wasn't the storm now. He wasn't flowing, flowing in unaware, uncaring bliss. He was at the eye of the storm, and clarity as bright as sunlight, breaking the clouds, arced through his brain. Clarity which shattered his bones.

((Dang, that post was amazing. *hyperventilates*))

She'd won.
 
Albus's wand was laying innocently on a patch of trampled grass by his feet. The wood looked so harmless, as if it wasn't the tool that had been used to almost kill her. The witch glanced down at the wand in her own hand, suddenly hyper-aware of all the lives the sleek stick had helped her take.
 
The woman almost always felt a sense of accomplishment after a win, especially if it was one she'd had to really work for. She didn't now though. There was something bitter about her success. Katrina-Carlotta wasn't sure exactly why that was. It could have been how close she'd come to loosing her life, the tactics she'd needed to resort to, or perhaps it was the way Albus's frozen eyes seemed filled with emotions that the female didn't want to interpret.
 
Leaning down to inspect her leg, the dark witch let out a slow hiss. The wound was impressive. "Curatos," she incanted softly, wand an inch away from the bleeding area. Watching in mild fascination as the skin knitted itself back together, Katrina-Carlotta reminded herself to take a blood-replenishing potion as soon as she was alone.
 
Walking towards the frozen man with soft steps, the assassin leant down to pick up Albus's wand. It hummed slightly in her hand, and the woman wondered how well the stick would work for her. She had a suspicion that it might work fairly well, but witch wouldn't be so crass as to test her theory. Holding the foreign object with the handle facing away in an offering gesture, Katrina-Carlotta unfroze the Potter with a wordless-finite.
 
"You duel very well," the European complemented, eyes carefully focused on the young male's face. Holstering her wand, the woman remained quiet for a moment of energy-charged silence. "I do apologize for the nightmare curse," Katrina-Carlotta said almost hesitantly, "I was treating you as I would myself, it was imprudent of me."
 
With that statement the witch found herself glancing at her magical doppelganger, which returned her gaze with an additional short nod. A sharp flick later, the figure disappeared into nothing. Katrina-Carlotta was momentarily assaulted with the memories of watching the duel from a different perspective, and was immediately glad she had thought of doing so.
 
Forcing herself to remain still, Katrina-Carlotta stood in wait. It was Albus's move now. If only she was capable of predicting it.

(( Thank you  Kat-Car's reaction to her victory seems damn genuine, and accurate))

Mask. Mask, mask. Now.

His heart was too loud. Surely, Katrina-Carlotta could hear it. Katrina-Carlotta.....Albus felt a spike of rage, that vaguely tempted him to simply pounce on her after she dispelled the body-bind, snapping her neck into two. Bloody B**** of a woman. How could she even...she didn't even know...

No, no, he was acting stupid. What in the name of Merlin was wrong with him? Of course she didn't mean it. She was a Dark witch, with no morals. Tossing out something as .....as.....ridiculous as that, was a tactic to win, nothing else. And to think he had actually fallen for it. Thought for one split-second that......Albus shook his head inwardly. Mad, that was what he was. Mad, and stupid. Du Hunt didn't know him. She didn't know anything about him. Didn't know that he cared to invest himself in no one, that he loved his family but didn't care for them all that much. And she was presuming to think that he would actually.....for a brash, depressed Quidditch player, the best friend of his brother....

He hadn't thought about her in those terms for ages. He wouldn't admit it on the pain of death.

Jack. Jack.

"Thank you." His lips were moving unawares, and his hand moved forward to receive his wand. His voice was calm, unaffected. His mask. Thank god.  "You treated me as you would yourself. That's a high compliment." You saw her in the nightmares. You saw he- "It was pathetic of me to......" A slight intake of breath. Blink and miss, really. "Get distracted like that."

Albus cleared his throat, rolling his wand between his fingertips. The atmosphere was barely prickling now, sliding over his skin languorously. "It was liberating, actually. To be...able to cast like that. I've never been able to truly test my mettle. But......"

But what? You can't continue this any further? In spite of the fact that this is what you wanted for so long? Why?

Albus's jaw tightened. Because he had promised. Promised that he would break it off, that he wouldn't betray.....

Jack. You're ready to give up the only thing you were ever good at for her? For your brother's best mate? Give up your ambitions, your instincts? If you are, that means Du Hunt was right. You do l-

No. There was a tinge of desperation now. No.

"But.....I would like to learn the spell you cast."

Albus closed his eyes.

((Thanksies! All I want to do is wrap Albus in a hug, poor baby.))

There was a war ranging inside Albus's mind. It was impressive how even he was keeping his tone, but his eyes told the woman what his words did not. Katrina-Carlotta had caused that; the pain, the hate, and the self-loathing all shining in Albus's eyes. She had cause that, and for the first time in years the dark witch found herself wholeheartedly regretting causing someone pain.

She was getting too invested in this puzzle of a man. No, she already was too invested. There was little that could be done now, however. Katrina-Carlotta's usual solution would be to eradicate the problem, but she wouldn't kill Albus. The dark witch wasn't even sure if she could at this point. Was this what it was like to feel weak? If it was, the woman certainly didn't like it.

"Incorrect," the European snapped out. "I spent years training myself to be unaffected by the nightmare curse. The fact that you broke it as quickly as you did was is impressive in and of itself," Katrina-Carlotta continued, tone softening slightly after the first harsh word.

"Which spell?" the assassin asked her student a moment later. She hoped he wasn't asking about the nightmare curse. That was incredibly dark magic, the darkest of the dark. The woman considered it one of the worst spells a person could cast upon another. If that was what Albus was asking for, she would refuse. He wasn't ready for that. She wasn't ready for that. At least, not yet.

Unable to look at Albus any longer, Katrina-Carlotta turned around and began walk, creating space between the two humans. Perhaps this had't been a very good idea. The woman was unsure if she would ever be able to forgive herself if she turned Albus into a monster. The witch had watched it happen too many times to count. Brilliant minds just wanting to learn a bit about the dark arts, that ended up as soulless corpses, slaves to their own shadows. 

"It is liberating," the woman spoke, back still facing the man she'd just dueled, "to let the power inside you flow free. Just never forget that you are the one in charge. Use it, meld it, play with it, but never let it do the same to you. If you wish to never let it free other than in controlled mock duels, then that is your decision. Never let anyone tell you otherwise." Katrina-Carlotta was sure that Albus would be able to hear the haunted undertone to her words, but she couldn't bring herself to care.

((Sigh. I have come to terms with the fact that I torture my characters. A lot. XD))

If Albus hadn't known better, then he would have thought that Katrina-Carlotta was regretting ever agreeing to teach him.

That was how it always went, wasn't it? Normal, sensible, controlled people take big decisions, thinking that they would be able to handle whatever the consequences, whatever challenges the world threw at them. Little did they know that the greatest difficulty originated not from the outside, but from within. When one found oneself doing things, feeling things that they never would have even imagined. Getting attached. Little did they know that tiny choices, like waving at a classmate one had never acknowledged for years, striking conversation with a colleague, happening upon a Dark witch in a bar, meeting your brother's friend in an alley.....these small little incidents could change your life. Could change you.

If you allowed them to.

"The spell which constructed your double. The theory behind it seems fascinating. Does the consciousness actually split between two bodies, or is it like looking out of two sets of eyes at the same time?" He was curious about it, truly, he was. Asking complex magical theory at a time like this had no relation at all to the fact that he wanted to drown out the voices in his head. Drown out the thoughts, the images and words and Nemo Omara..Avariella Hudson...Obliviate...kill..promise.. No, nothing to do with it at all. "I wish to know what you learnt from it."

But Katrina-Carlotta was a cruel, vindictive woman. She refused to see that Albus was clasping on to a topic, any topic to avoid thinking about what had just happened. Albus could still feel snakes rustling on his tongue. A cold drop of sweat worked its way down his spine. "I....I understand." And the woman opposite him was so confusing too. Defying all expectations, she seemed to actually care about his....sanity? Heaven forbid, morals? Almost like she had been in his place before.

Albus worked his throat. "It won't. My control is.....one of the few things I am proud of." And maybe that sentence betrayed too much, but he found himself ill-disposed to care. She had slipped a lot to him too.

((Oh, as do I. Or more like, I torture my three normal(ish) charries, and Kat-Car just tortures. Period. XD))

Taking a moment to absorb all the words Albus had spoken, the dark witch closed her eyes and released a soft, tired breath. "Good," she announced simply. It was far too easy and far too common to fall into the pits of insanity. While many would try to fight against the fact, Katrina-Carlotta knew that she wasn't insane. In fact, the dark witch characterized herself as far more sane than most dark practitioners she met. All things considered, it was something the European had always been proud of. The Potter's words of his control being one of the few things he was proud of, had struck a chord deep inside of her. It was almost chilling how the two of them could be so similar, yet so very different.

While the witch tended to doubt most whom boasted about their impressive control, Katrina-Carlotta didn't doubt Albus's words for a second. She could only imagine the amount of control held inside that young body. The boy was dark, but the way he hid that from almost the entire world was quite impressive. Beyond the woman's own capabilities, if she had to be honest with herself.   

Turning back around to face her student once more, the European allowed her lips to curl upwards ever so slightly. "I was almost hoping you would ask that," the assassin admitted.

"First, I suppose I should tell you that the spell is quite hard to categorize. It is not fundamentally dark, nor is it considered conjuration. It's actually categorized as a complex charm or enchantment, depending upon whom you ask. I've always found this odd as the created figure is fully corporal, and therefore it is sometimes easier to think of the spell as a form of transfiguration," the woman explained, giving a bit of insight into something that she had once puzzled over.

"Its name is the Mirror Image Charm, for the duplicate of yourself is always created identical to the moment the caster utteres the spell. For example, if I were to use this charm and then change my hair color to blonde, my duplicate would still have dark hair," Katrina-Carlotta had continued. The spell was far from the simplest thing Albus could have chosen, but most certainly one of the most useful.

"In answer to your questions, the theory is very complex. The best way to explain it would be that the spell creates an exact copy of oneself. The double has the exact memories, intelligence, body, and talents at its creator. There is no connection between the two minds from the moment the double is created, but now there are two of you in existence. When the spell is canceled, all the memories and experiences of the double are implanted inside the mind of the caster. It quite literally allows a person to be in two places at once without the use of time magic. Of course, it is difficult to hold over time and large distances, but the usefulness has to be recognized. If the double dies, or the caster no longer has enough power left to fuel the spell, the double vanished, and the caster does not gain any of the duplicate's memories," the dark witch told Albus, voice emotive as she told the wizard all about the impressive and complex spell. Katrina-Carlotta truly did adore magic, brilliance that it was.

"If the spell is dependent on power then......" Albus worked his throat for a few seconds. He had successfully isolated his mind, which was now whirring over the problem presented to him. "It opens a lot of possibilities. Like a man being sent to the Kiss, or the Veil of Death, could easily create a double of himself, disillusion his original body and apparently fake his death. If a double can be killed the same way as a human, I assume? Or attacking an enemy, first meeting him from the front then ambushing him via double from behind.....if the double has the same magical signature, then it should not be detected." The possibilities were endless. The strategies were endless. This spell was.....a marvel of magic.

And if muggle biology was to be applied, then this spell duplicated the exact genes/DNA of a person, effectively mimicking asexual reproduction. Arithmantically impossible, just like the Killing Curse. But it existed. Albus's analytical, reflecting mind could muse over this spell for ages.

Yet it returned, time and time again, to Katrina-Carlotta's words. Those words.

There could be no greater sign that something was seriously wrong with the world.

"I...I'm sorry to change the topic of discussion but....." The words escaped, rushed and harried, from his lips. It was a good thing, this Gryffindor-like burst of courage, he sought to reassure himself. He needed to get this out of his system, his thought-stream, once and for all. "Why....why do you insist on bringing up D-Dyllan's name at every turn? I understand today's tactic, a rather effective one, " He inclined his head in uncaring, unwanted appreciation; his concentration was fixed on the coming words. "But why that day? Its....its rather...." His voice was a study in composure. "Rather irritating."

Irritating. Like a fly. A midget. Something that didn't matter.