| Details for A Bit of Blood |
| Summary: | Samira cuts herself while dancing in the Greenhouse. John catches her practicing dark magic with the blood. |
| Date: | December 13, 2016 |
| Location: | Greenhouse |
| Related: | — |
| Characters |
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In the warmth of the dark, silent Greenhouse, Samira has been dancing. Her warm layers she always wears - scarves, robes, jumpers and more - rest neatly over one a stool. She has even taken off her shoes. Bare feet are ideal for her style of dancing. Eyes closed, she loses herself as her hips sway and her body undulates in time to the music filling her mind. But in a Greenhouse, bare feet aren't the best idea. With a sharp cry of pain, she trods on remnants of broken pottery.
Most students would rush at once to Madam Spleen. The few aides like her who know basic healing magic would mend it. But as her blood leaks across the Greehnhouse floor, Samira stares, transfixed. Alone in the dark Greenhouse, she can't quite help herself. Wand in hand, she whispers, "Sanguinio" and watches as the blood on the floor begins to crawl.
Initially unaware that anyone else was occupying one of the greenhouses, John had been intent on finding his way into one of them and 'borrowing' a few clipping from various plants that might be useful in his potions studies. That cry of pain, however, attracts his attention and he quietly pokes a head into the greenhouse the sound came from, not looking to be detected until he figures out just what is going on.
The sight he is greeted by is certainly not what he was expecting - Samira Prince in rather a bit less clothing than he is used to seeing her in with splatters of blood on the floor that are seemingly moving of their own accord. Or perhaps moving of -her- accord, judging by the wand in the girl's hand. John's lips purse and he attempts to remain silent and somewhat out of sight, though he watches the spellwork going on with more than a just a little bit of interest.
A smile plays across Samira's lips as she coaxes rivulets of blood to crawl and coil up table legs and across the floor. Enthralled, she hasn't noticed John's silent presence. She seems to barely notice that she's still bleeding.
John blinks a few times in disbelief, though he shakes off what would be considered a rather shocked expression rather quickly as he watches - that look being quickly replaced by that of someone who is unmistakably impressed. He drops the bag he was initially planning to stash his clandestinely gathered supplies in where he stands, perhaps causing a soft *thump*, and moves to try and get a better look at just what it is Samira is doing. His footfalls and movements are not quite as quiet as he might hope, however, distracted as he is by what he is watching.
The thump startles Samira back to herself. As her concentration breaks, the blood splatters around the table legs. Her wide-eyed stare across at John shines vulnerable with alarm. She hides her wand behind her back, taking half a step away - right onto her cut foot. She winces with a half-suppressed squeak of pain.
Meeting Samira's stare, John raises a hand as if to comfort the obviously startled girl. "Ah…Miss Prince, don't stop what you are doing on my accord," he breathes out, averting his gaze after a moment and realizing that, perhaps, the girl's alarm may be due to being unexpectedly walked in on while clearly not dressed as she might usually be as much as being discovered doing what John can only assume to be magic of a decidedly darker bent. "You, ah, you're bleeding," he states rather obviously, a bit of color coming to his own cheeks.
Poised on one foot, Samira hides the bleeding one behind her calf. "I'm alright. I just- it's nothing." John Carrow isn't a boy she knows too well. Not as she knows the Knights. She bites her lower lip, studying him. "I was just about to heal myself."
While it is true that John does not know Samira Prince as well as some of the other Slytherin boys might, he certainly is aware of the rumors that she may have learned darker magic at her old school, or perhaps through other members of her family. Those rumors were not something that bothered him in the slightest, however, rather it intrigued the boy, though he never more than hinted at it on the occasion that the two might speak, be it in the common room or elsewhere. "I am fairly certain that was not a healing spell," he ventures, no judgment in his tone, rather a hint of curiosity shining through in his voice. He raises his gaze, then, so that he might look at the girl once more, though he is careful to at least try to keep his eyes upon her face rather than allow it to stray to other parts of her.
Blood drips from her toe. While she remains wearing the core of her school uniform, blouse and skirt, it is far less than she usually wears - making her look a bit bare. Samira shifts, lifting her hip as she remains balanced on one foot. In a soft, low tone, she murmurs, "It is, actually. Used it to save the life of one of those centaurs. Their chief, actually."
"One unlike any I've heard of," John replies, his own tone rather quiet and calm. "I did not mean to intrude," he adds, seeming somewhat uncertain if he should stay or leave. "But it is not as if I've too much experience with healing…and after all, you're to be at St. Mungo's once you graduate." He reaches upwards, then, rubbing at the back of his neck somewhat awkwardly.
"It's also forbidden. Madam Spleen warned me not to use it again," murmurs Samira, watching John, carefully. But then, dropping her gaze, she twists around to softly say, "Episky." Glancing back at John, she sets her foot down. No trace of a cut remains beneath the blood.
"I won't say a word of it," says, perhaps a bit too swiftly. "You know I think they're a bit too stuffy about what sorts of magic they let us practice," he adds by way of explanation, though it's impossible for him to completely hide just how curious about this forbidden spell he actually is.
Samira's lips quirk in a slow smile. "Ah? A dangerous view at a school like this." Folding her arms behind her back, she grasps her own elbows. With her eyes on John, she shifts forward to dip a toe in blood staining the floor. Head tilted, she asks, "The forbidden intrigues you?"
John glances about briefly, as if to ensure that the pair were actually alone before answering, "Why shouldn't it? The way they try to hide things from us makes it almost natural to be curious at the very least." He pauses then before adding, "And the Defense classes are about the closest we get to learning about anything that might come -close- to being forbidden…" He shrugs then, as if it should be explanation enough.
Samira's smile becomes a wry smirk. "Ah, defense. Where I'm from, we learn defense, but only as a part of other studies." She shakes her head and slinks past John to her clothes. Taking up her jumper, she glances over her shoulder at him. "You are a Carrow, yes? There are dark wizards in your heritage. Aren't there?"
John shifts where he stands as Samira passes, enough to keep his eyes upon her as the pair speaks. "I am and there are, yes," he replies, rather matter-of-factly. "Though mother and father are not exactly keen for myself or my siblings to delve into much of that history," he continues, making something of a face at the mention of his parents. "But I've heard the rumors about where you went to school before. I didn't really give too much thought to them, though."
Samira arches a brow, tilting her head. "Ah, you didn't believe? Just idle gossip about the foreign girl, of course." She shakes her head before pulling on her jumper. As her head emerges out the other side, she grins at him. "They were true. Though I didn't get far before I had to come here."
"I didn't think it mattered, really," John explains, shrugging his shoulders. "Could have been talk started by someone looking to frighten people away from the foreign girl that all of us boys certainly had noticed," he continues idly, "Or as you said, just idle gossip." He returns that grin, though, and he adds, "What that was before, even if it wasn't all that far, was still quite impressive."
Samira watches him with a bit of a smile - far more relaxed and at ease than the first, vulnerable moment when he'd caught her. However, when he mentions how she'd been noticed, she blinks, shifting a bit. Averting her gaze, she nods. "Thank you." She stares down at the blood on the floor. "I should clean it up before it dries…" She peeks back over at him. "Swear you won't tell?"
John rocks back on his heels and replies, "Not a word of it, I swear. Our little secret," offering a rather sly sort of smile. "I ah…I could help you clean up here, if you'd like? I didn't realize anyone else would be out here when I came down…," he trails off, moving to gather up a few pieces of the broken pottery on the ground without waiting for Samira's response.
Samira shakes her head. "It's alright." With a secret smile, she draws her wand. "Sanguinio." The blood staining the floor boards begins to bead across the wood. Soon it forms rivulets and creeps across the wood. It moves towards John. But, just as they are about to crawl across his shoes, the worm-like rivulets dive into a crack between boards. There it pools out of sight.
John gives a start as the rivulets of blood wriggle beneath the boards just before coming into contact with his shoes. "That was…wow," he states, clearly impressed as he discards several of the shards of pottery into a bin nearby. He gives Samira a look, then, offering a broad smile. "I, ah…it's getting late enough that we should probably head back to the common room before Pringle is out looking for our heads…," he pauses, then, moving to scoop up his bag. "That is, ah, if you were heading back, I'd be glad to have you walk with me?"
Turning away, Samira begins to pull on the rest of her warm clothes. She pauses, about to pull on a second jumper, to peek over at him. "Alright," she says with a light nod before pulling on the jumper. Then comes the scarfs. And the cloak. All bundled up, she makes her way over to him. Watching him, she tugs her scarf up to hide her nose.
Not being quite so sensitive to the cold, John simply tightens up his cloak and offers Samira a smile. "Almost can't recognize you bundled up under all that stuff," he murmurs lightly before opening the door to the greenhouse for her.