Guy Laurent, Renfield & Myra Turnbull; Wizard!Verse
(1990); G; 538 wordsDescendo - Partis Temporus - Avis - Obliviate - Wingardium - Incarcerous - Incendio - Imperius - Nox - Lumos
Vampires are graced with a certain stealth.
If this comes as no surprise to you, perhaps you are a consumer of the muggle fiction about them. All the better. The bit of mystery mixes well with the fiction to keep us hidden from that which could overwhelm one of us should we be discovered. As you will dismiss this as fiction, too, I feel a looseness of tongue I generally do not possess.
I sink from a rafter to a lower one, my footfalls making no sound, my body moving with a fluidity not granted by God at birth.
The baby Auror is rather interesting; I know that I have been silent, but he detects me. He is clever enough to betray nothing of what he has heard to the woman he's talking to, but the slight incline of his head in my direction tells me all I need to know. I smile, allowing fangs to descend only so far as needed to lick one. It's a tic; one of pleasure.
Few Aurors come through Regina in any given year. The state of pressing oneself into a muggle life has always fascinated me. I am not a wizard. I was not born one, and have come to understand this world only by being half-pressed upon it myself by virtue of my change. It seems improbable that any of them would wish to come the other way.
They are very... precious
about their wizardry, after all.
This one speaks to a rather lovely woman apparently several years his senior, and she speaks softly in return. I wonder if she belongs to him; I sniff the air. No... no... hm. Perhaps she does. Not in the way I expected.
They appeared to be having some sort of disagreement, before he detected me. It is made no simpler by his apparent instinct to take the woman away from this place at the detection.
She seems to be insisting on remaining. He doesn't manhandle her into leaving. This impresses me. He has risen above my estimation of many wizards already.
"It's all right," I offer softly from my perch. I smile down at them, sans fangs. My condition is obvious enough. "I only wanted to welcome you to Regina."
The woman jumps; the Mountie snaps a look at me that I'm sure is very frightening to other people.
"Thank you," he replies with a suspicious squint.
They are interesting. It won't do to burn that bridge.
"My apologies for the startle." I reach into my pocket, pulling from it a long grey feather, and I offer it down to drift to them.
The Mountie blinks, moving to take it, though it's his sister - I can smell it in their blood - that plucks it from the air. Neither of them seem to have an answer for my apology. The Auror nods acknowledgment of a sort; it's then his sister seems to give over, and he is able to nudge her out of this place.
She watches me as they leave. I flourish a wave and watch her go.