Lycanthropus

The nightclub that had assaulted her senses and beguiled her composure and had made her lusty and inordinately susceptible to the bruising affections of those whom she was looking to exploit for their secrets was, by eleven o’clock, well behind the woman who was striding up back into Diagon Alley, keen to forget the scent of too-sweet cocktails, lingering, unpleasant cologne and the stench of cigarettes. Though with a bit of magic she had managed to get it from her clothes and hair it felt as though it was still deep, embedded in her nostrils and as she closed her coat tighter around her she found she couldn’t wait to be within the sterile marble walls of the Ministry. At least there she would feel clean, safe and secure.

Buttoning up her coat properly, Elizabeth Murdoch moved fully into the bright lamplight of Diagon Alley. There, under one of the tall Victorian gas lamps she apparated, reducing herself down to a swirling ball of murky grey light that flew through Diagon Alley and out, up across London, not stopping for so much as a breath and in her rush sent a young musician crossing the road into a pirouette with the gust of air that followed her. She reassembled in the foyer or atrium of the Ministry of Magic, taking a breath as she staggered forward, reaching out with a thin hand to brace herself on the rim of the fountain in the middle.

Straightening, Beth took a little time to look about herself, examining the faces of the witches and wizards still bustling around carrying work despite the strained, upset looks on their faces. She unbuttoned her coat absent-mindedly, revealing the scantily clad outfit she’d donned for the sake of the club. It would have been pretty enough had all the material been there but it had a slashed effect and was transparent in places she would have preferred it not to be. Coupled with the fishnet tights that were as much a requirement as her own trademark, she looked every inch the table dancer she spent her nights masquerading as. Satan’s felt more like her home of employment now than the Ministry did.

Gathering her wits, Beth extended her gate and began to walk towards the lifts where, upon finding an empty one, she got inside and punched the number into the console for the Department of Mysteries. Her hand just about found the rail when the lift lurched backwards and started to career deep into the bowels of the Ministry. She had more or less gotten her countenance back when it slammed to a stop, sending her sprawling across the small floor of the lift. She groaned as the optimistic woman reading out the floor number announced they’d arrived and raising her arm, Beth used the rail to haul herself back onto her heeled feet, muttering expletives to the lift as she did so.

Emerging from the lift, Beth could sense the change in atmosphere. It was darker down here, although the visitor’s entrance was pleasant enough. The secretary had gone home and though the lamp on her desk was still on, everything else had been packed away. Portcullises had been pulled down over different doors but outside the door leading into the archive there was nothing and one dim light over the top of the frame still shone, piercing through the oppressive darkness. Mentally licking her wounds from the lift experience, Beth took her wand from her pocket and pointed it at the desk lamp, charming the light to glow brighter and fill the entrance hall to chase out the shadows.

Stepping around the large desk, Beth abandoned herself in the chair and slipped her feet out of her shoes. She scrunched at her toes and idly rolled her ankles as she began to rummage her hands against the handles of the drawers, trying to find one that was open still. Sure enough she did but it was full of useless magazines and though she did pick one out, she was loathe to wait any longer. She wanted to go home. She wanted to go to bed, more importantly, and maybe find a way of dealing with herself in a way that didn’t include following a werewolf-researcher into the archives on the off chance that he might find something she could use. For now, though, an old copy of Witch Weekly would do.

Today the time passed especially slow. Usually he liked being surrounded with books and doing his job but today he felt like he's imprisoned in the Hogwarts library. The thought about leaving early so he could make it to the Ministry in time never left his mind but he thought it would be smarter to stay till the end of the shift, close the library for the day and then leave the castle, especially since he was planning to uninvited access the secretes and the most protected department in the ministry, so attracting attention was not an option, someone could guess something will happen and if they got caught they will be immediately sent to prison. However, maybe they would share the cell, that would be interesting since Elizabeth has been the most temperament woman he ever met, he couldn't deny she didn't look well either, that thought bought a barely visible smile on his face.

After the end of the shift he went to his room just to change his clothes to something black. If you want to sneak in somewhere during the dark it would be the logical decision thought it's unlikely he'll have any benefits because of that. The building of the Ministry looked like some regular building but everybody knew there's a bunch of spells that keeps it away from muggle eyes and protected from enemies. He wondered how will they pass through all of them if they even doesn't know which kind of protection is used there, or at least he doesn't know, Beth mentioned she works there, maybe she was informed better than him. Bastien hoped she is, otherwise they won't pass atrium.

O'Sullivan has never been been a big fan of apparition. Although he successfully passed the test he never liked the feeling during the apparition, and since there was enough of muggle in him to be comfortable with travelling without magic he always choose that option, and he chose it today, too.
He walked to Hogsmeade, trying to memorize a map of the Ministry he found today. Sebastien thought it would be useful to know the field and although the map was a bit older then he expected he could use it unless they drastically changed the order of the rooms, but he doubt that. They were too busy with arguing about unimportant things right now to think about something like that.

When he had reached the station in Hogsmeade he bought a one way train ticket, a packet of cigarettes. That was everything he needed. A ticket for some random location where he can switch to muggle train and continue his traveling without being noticed, and cigarettes to occupy his time. He started smoking when he came back to London, before coming back he found that quite unattractive and uneconomical but now he needed something to help him to think less, and it was cigarettes or alcohol. He chose cigarettes since you're still sober no matter how long have you been smoking.

After a few hours Sebastien stood in front of the Ministry building watching his clock. He was a little early, like he always was. This ex-Slytherin has never liked being late, that shows disrespect to a person with whom are you meeting and he always liked to show it in person and not by being late. Like it made any difference.
He came into the red callbox, closing the callbox doors behind him. After he left the informations the callbox started going down the same way elevators did, and bought him to atrium.

His eyes started searching for Beth as soon as he stepped on the Atrium's marble floor. Personally, he found the design of the atrium a bit too kitsch, and well walking there caused more noise than he liked, and he hoped he would pass unnoticed.
Spoting Beth wasn't as hard as he expected. He just needed to follow the brightest light, at first he kept himself away from the lighted spot thinking there was some ministry worker who stayed late on his workspace but the person who sat on the chair was the person he was looking for. She remind him of cat, sitting like this on the chair. But the cats has never read Witch Weekly.
He leaned over the counter. "'Evening. Care to read my horoscope, please? I'm dying to hear it."

One Hundred Ways To Cure A Bad Hair Day

Trolls to Show-Stoppers: How to Catch A Man

Dragon Blood Diet? A Fad Or The Real Deal?

Elves – Too Sexy For Their Own Good?

Quidditch’s Hottest Bachelors: Bag One Today!

From A Bloated Size 20 To A Fun and Flirty Size 10 – Read Eugina Codswallop’s Amazing Weight Loss Story

Flicking through the ridiculous rag of a magazine – not fit, in Beth’s opinion, to be on the shelves of any reputable news seller – Beth felt as though she was simultaneously being asked to lose weight and get herself a man. She didn’t think that she looked that bad in truth but a quick glance at her hair which she sifted through her fingers told her that it needed a bit of a cut. She sighed, huffing out a breath of air frustratedly through her nostrils and returned to the magazine, poring over different weight loss options and a dozen different bachelors that the readership were encouraged to pretty themselves up for – though of course she doubted any of the silly house wives who read the magazine regularly realised it wasn’t ever going to happen. She also didn’t think she’d ever find time to get that haircut, either – or start the dragon blood diet.

A few employees shuffled by sleepily while she waited, some carrying files, others packing away their things with clumsy hands into the satchels hanging from their shoulders. Others were wheezing, clearly having been deep within the archives that day while a few Unspeakables who Beth knew by face but not by name – barring of course James Potter who sauntered through lazily about ten minutes after she settled down to read – made their way out with strained looks on their faces as though something was going on down below that wasn’t quite right. Whatever it was, it made the woman at the desk a little bit uneasy and it made sitting and reading a harder thing to sit and do as quietly as she was. As it was, she got her distraction soon enough and at the sound of a familiar voice, Beth looked up.

“I expect you are,” Beth replied airily, flicking a page over. “What are you?” She asked, taking her feet off of the table and dropping them down onto the floor. She waited for his reply before smirking and flicking down to the appropriate bit.

“You share your sign with no less than seven Quidditch players,” she informed Sebastien knowledgably. “Many of them are pros but the majority are Chasers. Apparently luck is coming your way, Mr O’Sullivan. Good. We’ll need it.”

Beth threw down the magazine and pushed her hands on the arms of the desk chair. Shoving herself up to standing, she unbuttoned her coat and smiled briefly at him before stepping out from behind the desk, her heels clicking absently on the marble floor. She shoved her hands into the pockets of her coat briefly before turning and gesturing with a flick of her head to the doors across the little area where she’d holed herself up. Striding over, she brought out her hand and touched at the brass doorknob, knowing that they would swing open – and they did – as her clearance was enough for her to get that far. A little ingenuity would be required for them to find their way further.

“Welcome to the archives,” she introduced, stepping inside.

Rows upon rows upon rows of bookshelves that went up and up and up to the height of perhaps two double decker buses stacked on top of each other rose before them. There was an age about even the books closest to the door and the documents popped in tubes and stacked high seemed to have more of a wisdom collected within themselves than she ever would have hoped to achieve. Thankfully, though not as you might expect, it was warm in there and Beth slipped off her coat, taking out her wand before abandoning the coat on a chair that was pulled out a little from the table it should’ve been underneath. At least she looked like a presentable high-class prostitute – she had that going for her, at least. The lighting, which was good where they were, would dim the further in they got so she lit her wand ahead of time and turned to Sebastien, offering him a real smile and gesturing for them to start walking.

“How has your week been, then?” She asked, falling into step with him and feeling weirdly domestic for the question. “Did you ever actually say where you work? I can’t remember. Sorry about that. Anyway, thing is with this ... you've heard the stories about Harry Potter breaking into Gringott's and about the dragons and stuff, right? They say the further in you go in this place ... well, it's got nothing on Gringott's to say the least."

What he was? His eyebrows raised up rapidly. Did she assumed he's searching for a cure because he's one of them. Because he's a werewolf? Sebastien rewound their previous conversation his head. No, he hasn't told her about him being one. He never willingly told that to someone and he didn't want to, it's easier to ignore it, so why would he tell her then?

No idiot, she's asking for horoscop sign, he explained to himself. Oh well, he started speaking with himself, now, he was sure that was one of the first signs of insanely. He wasn't sure what his horoscop sign is. His parents weren't interested in esoteric, neither did him. Even in Hogwarts he somehow found a way to read some book during his Divination lessons, and after the lesson he would took someone else's notes. Bastien couldn't say he didn't try to listen that, he did a couple of times, but the subject was so boring he would loose his concentration, even slept sometimes.

"Sagittarius, I guess." He shrugged, he knew that persons who had that signs were born in December like him, but he didn't know the exact date, not that he cared thought.

Bastien leaned forward to see the names. "All of them are dead too." He made a grimace. He hoped that wasn't what his horoscop was trying to tell him. No matter what others think he liked living as much as many others people and he didn't want to die yet. "I don't like that one. Could you change the magazine, please?" He watched her throwing the magazine, well that wasn't what he proposed but he could live with it.

Sebastien watched her while she bypassed the desk. He never understood how did women walked in heels. Or even why? He tried that, his brother forced him to participate in some race in heels for the charity and he almost broke his neck. He fell down at least five times, all of participant did, but at least he wasn't the last one, although he wasn't much better than that, he was penultimate. When the race was over he was thankful for being alive. So watching Beth easily walking in heels made him amazed, maybe even a little jealous since she succeed in something he couldn't do, although he would never wear heels again in his life, making himself look like an idiot wasn't a thing he usually did, and that race was enough of feeling idiotic for the whole life, maybe even two lifes.

He followed her silently, this part of the Ministry wasn't on the map he saw so he had to believe to her. It was good to know his whole day of searching for a plan of this building was a completely waste of time. He felt like he failed in doing his homework.

Whether that door should be locked? It would be logical to keep all the secrets locked, at least with a key if not with many spells, but when Elizabeth touched the doorknob the door opened. Weird. Or she knew how to unlock them, but he thought she didn't work here. He followed her outside. His eyes needed some time to adjust to the light in here but when that was over he found himself surrounded with thousands of books. It was beautiful. He would give everything if he could work here. No, not work. If he could live here. Sebastien pulled the glasses from his coat pocket and put them. He couldn't even imagine what kind of secrets were hidden here.

When he turned back to Beth he saw he took her coat off, he couldn't stop himself from taking a moment to look at her, after all he was just a man, and she was, well not overdressed woman.

He looked away when he realized she's looking back at him, feeling like a young Voyuer. Bastien went to the nearest shelf trying to find a system by which they sorted the books. He hoped it was sorted alphabetically, that was the most common way for sorting, and the easiest one too. "Awesome, yours?" He lied without of thinking about it. No one could describe a week at Hogwarts as awesome with all that loud kids, but he needed to gave her some answer since she bought him here in the first place. "I'm Hogwarts' librarian. And I'll have that on my mind, but I doubt there are any dragon sin here, the ministers like to feel safe, it's unlikely they would feel that way knowing there's 20 meters long beast only a few floors below them."

The black heels that were slipped onto Elizabeth’s dainty feet clicked on the marble floor, a sound that echoed through the room. The door that she’d opened intoned its shutting which belted out over them and the witch put her wand behind her ear as she walked idly along, crossing one foot over the other. She turned around, hearing Sebastian move across the room, his own footfalls introducing their echo to her ears. She smiled a little, lifting her arms behind her, and then stepped forward, coming up to his shoulder. She prodded at him, her gentle smile becoming more coquettish as she grew playful, and she gestured for him to follow her.

For the moment, staying to the first channel was the most intelligent idea. While the rumours of dragons and heaven knows what else could have been just that – rumours – she knew and had experienced herself the moving bookcases. Staying straight didn’t help, either, once you got so far in but she was determined not to have someone fetch them because she wasn’t sure how she was going to explain that to Holden, her law and enforcement partner, or to whoever else had the misfortune of coming across them to rescue.

No, that thought alone made her take her wand from behind her ear and start to draw a yellow line through the air, tracing their movements from the door to where she stood now.

Continuing on down the corridor, Beth came as far as a bust of the first Minister of Magic before stopping and deciding to address Sebastien, wondering to herself whether he’d ever met Robert Lupin who did not understand the meaning of his own personal safety. Yet, her own history with politicians showed that protecting themselves was much more important than doing the right thing. She sighed a little and reached up to curl a lock of hair behind her ear. She licked her lips thoughtfully and then decided to point out what she was thinking.

“What is in here is more important than the Ministers.” She said softly, turning clockwise around the bust podium. “Now, I think we’re meant to be down here. And it’s certainly not the dewy decimal system, to say the least.” She grinned, darting off ahead to the left.

Turning around so that she was walking backwards, she threw up a few bluebell flames into the air to give a little bit of light to the area she was going down into.

“So, sick of the kids then?” She inquired with a smirk. “At least it’s Halloween, nearly. They’ll get all excited about that festival going on down in Hogsmeade, won’t they? I’m thinking of going as a fairy.”

She brightened the end of the wand and pointed it at the shelf just above her head, arching an eyebrow at Sebastien with a smirk.

“This what you’re looking for?” She asked, tapping her wand on the end of a particular book that looked as though it was as old as time. She’d seen it before and had asked after it offhandedly before anything had happened to her. Now, though … now it was of use.

Sebastien started following Elizabeth after she gestured him to do so, remembering himself they're here because the information that are contained here.

There's a hint of hope in his chest that grew bigger with each step they made. Maybe it could end tonight. This whole werewolf thing finished forever, that bought elan in his steps and he started to walk faster impatient to start searching. He wondered how long they need to walk straight but he didn't ask it aloud. He didn't want to sound like he's complaining. As they went more and more into the room he decided to pull his wand out. Sebastien still thought exactly what he said earlier about dragons being here but that doesn't mean he thought these books were left here unprotected. He threw a few spells every night in Hogwarts library just so he could be alarmed if someone tries to sneak in when he wasn't there, he believed they did the same thing here, maybe even added a few more spells knowing how important some of these books might be.

At first Sebastien questionable looked at Beth when she took her wand and started to drawing a line through the air but he figured out why was she doing so. Thought that act had one bad side and a good one. They were almost the same. The good one was that they could find a way out, but the bad one was that someone would track them down just by following that yellow stripe, and that was pretty bad since they shouldn't be here. Even since he knew that he decided not to tell that to Beth. She could got angry or something, he never could predict what women could do next, so it's better to remain silent and walk after her.

Beth suddenly stopped and he rushed into her. He let his wand fall to the ground to help her not to fall on the ground. Although she was quite tall, well tall as him when she wore heels, but he was pretty sure he's heavier than her so the force of him rushing into her might make her loose her balance.
"Sorry." He murmured lifting his hands of her and raising his wand.

"It isn't but they choose the way of protection." Not that he knew any of current ministers but he knew he wouldn't like them even if hr knew who they are. Politicians were his less favourite group of people so he avoided politics unless they decided to bought some new idiotic law that somehow included him.

"Pretty much. Well during the Halloween it's even worse since they're running all over the castle screaming about that or making their masks in the middle of the halls so you need to navigate around them." He glanced on the nearest shelve reading the titles of the books and searching for the ones connected to lycanthropy. "Fairy? Really? With tinsel, rose wings and tutu?" He looked at her trying to imagine her all in pink but he couldn't make it. "I think I'll pass that. There's nothing to do and I'm not good with making costumes."

He stretched so he could pull out the book she tapped with the wand. It seemed so old and thick that there could be written the whole history of the planet. removed dust from the headlines to see the title. Perfect, it was Latin. If there was something he was really bad in it was Latin. "Um, Beth, did you bring a dictionary, maybe?"

Heat. That was what registered in her mind, ripped through her in fact, when Sebastien’s chest hit her back. Her eyes widened, shock turning her mouth up into a little ‘o’ and she felt the air rush from her chest, her heart beginning to hammer against her chest in rapid theatrical movements as his arm wound around her to save her from clattering against the floor with the wand. For a few seconds, Beth’s hands having seized hold of his arm to save herself, also, she felt lost. Painfully, she was aware of how alive he was. He was a real, honest-to-good human being. And he was against her, his heat breathing life back into her pores. She hadn’t realised how cold she was and how removed, how impersonal she was to others. Heat. It had begun to warm her icy heart.

When his hands lifted off of her body she almost mourned the loss but necessity demanded for her to be composed so she straightened herself awkwardly and raised a smile, offering a quick, whispered thanks in response. She bit her lip and swallowed heavily, trying to beat down the flutter of her heart, and hurried forward, her feet moving quicker across the marble. Taking her wand that little bit higher she lifted her head and continued to look, her eyes not really seeing the titles as she fought to get her heart to relax. She took a few steading breaths and turned to Sebastien again, a smile quirking her lips upwards as he talked about the students and then her outfit of choice.

“Uh-huh, the works,” she nodded, clucking her tongue against the roof of her mouth as the smile grew into a broad smirk. “I’ve got a charm that even makes the wings drop pixie dust. Not so much the tinsel but hey, tis the season nearly. Why don’t you come with? Get out of Hogwarts and actually enjoy yourself for five minutes, maybe? It’d do you some good, I bet.”

“Latin?” Beth stepped forward, furrowing her brow at the book. “I – no. It’s not something I thought about,” she shot Sebastien an absurd look. “Look, take the book. Put it in here,” she brought her wand between her teeth and stepped back, slipping her hand down the front of her dress. A little bit of fiddling underneath ensued but a moment later she produced a small pouch which she opened up in her hands.

“It’s got an extension charm on it,” she explained after removing the wand from her mouth. “And a feather-light one. It’ll help us carry them. Plop it in here. We can look for a few more and maybe even a dictionary to help.” She winked and strode off further down the aisle, her wand down by her side, trailing the line behind her.

“Come on slow poke,” she encouraged, passing a smile to him over her shoulder. “There are more around this corner, I believe.”

Keeping her close to him Sebastien noticed the scent of her skin, colour of her locks. Feeling her weight under his arms he became conscious of his position and the way he looked at her. While the discomfort along with passion was burning in his veins, he felt the spark in his chest after a long time midst the contact with other human being. Since he became a werewolf he avoided any touch with human beings thinking his body will somehow reveal him and then others would run away screaming. He didn't want to see that so he decided to completely avoid any physical contact, and it worked, until now.

Work. Elizabeth's next words remind him why they were there, again. Somehow he found out he keep forgetting it every now and then, he was always concentrated on what he's doing, but he couldn't focus this night. "Lovely costume, thought I don't know. It would be crowdy and everything." And people would probably find a way for dancing there. There's no such a thing Bastien hated more than dancing, when he was younger dance was used as a punishment for low grades. When he got one his mother would force him to dance lesson, so he found dancing as a punishment even today, after more than 10 years had passed since his last lesson.

Well, the probability that she brought a dictionary was pretty low, so her answer didn't surprise him. He twisted the book in his hands studying it from different sides like the book will magically translate itself if he twist it enough time. The book was pretty heavy, so he rejected Beth's suggestion without even thinking about it.

Magic. A smile lit up his face. He somehow managed to forget about all the spells that exist, as well as these two. He doubt he would remember to do the same thing that Beth did, since he always relied more on himself than on his wand, sometimes even forgetting to carry that piece of wood that chose him when he was 11 year old boy. He chipped the book in pouch hearing silent „hussh“ when the book hit the ground, he hoped it that it didn't suffer any damage when it hit the bottom.
Slow poke, really? Sebastien shook his head coming after her.

(OOC. Sorry, it's a bit shorter since I need to go back learning for today's exam.)

(OOC: Mine's short too! I hope you did super on your exam! <3 )

It was a moment in time: that was what Beth was going to tell herself. It would be for the best to treat it as exactly what it was – nothing. She smoothed her hands down her front, brushing lint off of her dress, and worried after the shelves, wondering exactly what she was meant to be going after. She grabbed a few tomes down which were thin and relatively informative on the subject, adding them to the bag, and continued to walk, glancing over her shoulder at Sebastien when he expressed his aversion to the idea of doing anything for Halloween.

“Oh come on,” she pouted playfully. “It’ll be good for you. You can always go as a broody Byronic hero if you’d like.” She wiggled her brows a little before laughing and turning around the corner. She stopped abruptly though, throwing her arms out to steady herself on the shelves either side. She bent her legs at  the knees in order to stop Sebastian from bowling her over if he bumped into her and she turned a little, stepping forward, reaching out a hand to push at his belly. She set a fierce look on her face and twisted around, half coming into his arms and certainly his personal space, in order to get away.

“There’s a gap there,” she whispered furiously, looking up at him. “They know we’re here, Sebastien.”

Calm, she had to remain calm. It would all be over if she started to panic now. They had to retrace their steps. The yellow line was coming in useful, after all. They had to be quick about it, though. More holes were going to open up, she was sure of it. Then, once they grew tired of the holes something else would happen and Beth wasn’t sure she could run fast enough in the shoes she was wearing.

“Come on,” she reached down for his hand, pulling his fingers. “We need to get out of here. Now.”

His grip on a wand became so tight that the wand complained throwing few purple sparks in the air. Sebastien always thought about his wand as living person. It was a bit awkward but thinking your wand is alive to somehow decreased loneliness. The wand chose him, him of all people, that must be one wicked wand. They made nice duo. Sebastien had a habit of squeezing a wand whenever he needed to change the the flow of his thoughts, and at the moment he need to think about books. Hm, easy to say.

He watched Beth putting books in the bag. It seemed she did that randomly but he doubted that's the case, maybe she had been here earlier, it's possible, she worked at the Ministry, after all. Given the number of books she took there, there wasn't not a lot of space left in her bag. It's a good thing she bewitched the bag to be light, he couldn't help her carry it considering where the bag was.

"You got me with mentioning the Byronic hero." He couldn't think of a more different person than yourself than a hero. They had nothing in common. "But every hero needs an assistent, wanna be a fairy one?" He joked running his fingers over the spines of books. All his muscles suddenly tightened, he never liked being touched, but only a few people knew that, he would somehow always found a way to keep that hidden. In his opinion touching was personal act that could possibly cause emotions. And emotions were the bad ones. However, he didn't move back.

"Where?" He frowned, it seemed she saw something bad somewhere but he couldn't see anything. But he completely understood her next words. And after them just one word filled his thoughts.
Move. They need to move.
Somehow, he always managed to keep calm at risky situations, he knew panic can't help him so he ignored that one dull feeling and focused on more important ones. The ones who could help him to find a way out the situation. If they got caught they'll most likely be sent to Azkaban, and Azkaban wasn't a place anyone wanted to visit. She didn't need to tell him twice. With that thought he offered his hand to Beth, rising his wand a bit higher in his left hand. Maybe he'll need his wooden friend, after all.

(OOC. Thanks, I hope too. XD I guess I need to wait for results to see.)