Chapter Text
Well, I don't feel better when I'm fucking around
And I don't write better when I'm stuck in the ground
So don't teach me a lesson 'cause I've already learned
Yeah, the sun will be shining and my children will burn
Heart In a Cage - The Strokes
Sunlight shone through the small windows by the ceiling, blinding the man in the center of the room.
Blood and urine pooled beneath him, sticky where it had dried against his skin. Every muscle in his body screamed as he dragged himself onto an elbow. His wrists were raw where iron shackles had rubbed them bloody during the night. He had stopped counting how many full moons he'd spent waking on this floor. One day, he knew, he simply wouldn't.
He limped to the foyer, clad in a threadbare quilt, and almost to his room before his wand flew to his hand and he spun around at the sound of floorboards creaking, meeting the twinkling blue gaze of Albus Dumbledore.
~
“Kent! Where’s the Skele-Grow." Barked Aspendigs as he marched through the lab.
St. Mungo's smelled like blood, burnt herbs, rot, and vomit on busy days. Healers brushed shoulders as they hurried through the halls and frightened family members crowded the walls. Somewhere above her, glass shattered and water soaked the ground, accompanied by the pained sounds of a woman.
This is why she liked the Alchemy room, you see, it was on the ground floor; shielded from most natural lights, and only a select group of individuals were allowed in the brewing rooms. She vastly preferred the smell of citrus, silver, boogies and leafy greens over death any day.
Another down side was the uniform was rather ugly; green pants, lime shirt with the healers’ crest, and a sage cloak with a pointy hat to accompany it. It made all healers distinguished within a crowd, easier for patients to find someone to help them. Although currently it was just an assault on the eye.
She still hadn't figured out why she'd chosen a profession dedicated to keeping her preferred food source alive, most of the time bleeding people were a nuisance, especially with the spice of magic in their system.
Speaking of which, the closest source of magical blood at the moment was Aspendigs, whose face had gone alarmingly red from running through the hospital. His heart attested to her observation with the rapid thump-thump-thump-thump
“Kent!” He snapped his fingers in her face, breaking her trance. “Potions, first floor, Now.”
“Very well.” She sneered, rising from her seat and straightening her cloak. She watched the man leave, then flitted to the supply closet, inhaling deeply as she darted her hands to the right, grabbing vials of the rotten-milk smelling substance, then stalked up the stairs, into the light of day.
The woman inhaled through her mouth deeply and held it, pressing on through the crowd and into the second floor, taking a sharp left and down a less crowded hall.
The Werewolf Ward always looked forgotten. The Ministry gave them just enough funding to avoid bad press and not a sickle more. The windows hadn't been cleaned in months and half the chairs looked older than she was.
About four wolves from the holding cells were already in the ward. Even before she inhaled, the smell of wet fur, blood, and the closest thing to dung burned her nose. The dogs would survive another five minutes without the potion. They were notoriously difficult to kill, so not too high of a priority in her mind.
She placed the bottles down with considerably less care than a healer ought to possess.
“could you deliver that any slower? Some of us are hurting here!” A boy shouted, he had to be no older than 16, younger than Reuvan at least.
She bristled as her steps halted, then spun on the beast, venom flashing in her eyes as she felt her ribs tighten and every bit of hair stand on end. She couldn't help the slight way her lip curled up. “I set an adequate pace, thank you very much.” She tutted, levitating the potions to a table, then approached the wolf.
“Well can I have a pain relief?” He pleaded with watery eyes
“Your request will be considered.” She sneered, and the teen spat at her. The vile liquid made contact with her robes, and she lunged.
-
“Unbelievable!” Derwent bellowed at the healer.
Auz had her head hung in shame as she sat on the opposite side of the desk. “You attacked a patient!”
Auzyra met his eye “He spa-”
“I don’t care what he did! You get security for Helga’s sake! You don’t bite children, Kent!” He slammed his fists on the table
“Good gods, Dily. Have bloody faith in me! I didn’t bite the bloody thing, I have restraint.” She scoffed, crossing her arms and propping her feet on the table.
“I’m serious, Zy.” He pinched the bridge of his nose as he paced “I can’t protect you this time. The ministry is already inquiring about you.”
“Oh woe is me, Fudge is my number one fangirl.” She chuckled .
“Fuck this, Kent turn your robes in. You’re done.”
At that, Auzyra sprang up from her chair, sending it toppling over “What! Y-You can’t!” The halfling sputtered
“Auz, you’ve been switched to three departments within six months and you attack a boy.” He gestured wildly
“I’m gaining experience in each new ward.” She tried
“Kent-”
“-and sure I got rough with a disrespectful ‘person’. I’ll take a bloody reprimand and move on.” She too began to pace.
“Auzyra-”
“If the mongre-Kid wants to sue me, I’ll spare him the damn sickles.”
“Auzyra! I can't have a vampire working amongst my staff!” He bellowed.
Auzyra snapped her jaw closed, righted her chair and retook her seat "I thought you were on my side here.” She said cooley.
He sighed and sat as well “the ministry has been poking ‘round. And several healers have had their suspicions, plus after the werewolf incident today….I’m not keeping you here just so you can be discovered and hauled to Azkaban.”
“Oh c’mon. I can play it off, Dil.”
“Your mouth in its own would give you away, Zy.”
“Please-just don’t fire me, I swear I’ll play it safe, fuck I’ll go butter up to all my colleagues if I need to-”
“Zyra it's not about if they like you.” His voice softened “I’m not putting your life on the line here. You know what the ministry would do if they did any amount of digging and found an unregistered vampire-”
“-halfling.” She interjected
“-vampire.” He continued. “Please, I can’t have you here when Fudge’s men investigate St. Mungos.” He pleaded, staring into her muddy eyes
“Wait-investigate?” That piqued her interest
“Just stuff with Black.” He crossed his arms
“C'mon Dilys, you fire a woman then deny any form of gossip? Fuck you too I guess.” She sighed and stood, setting her cloak on the chair and heading for the door.
“Zyra?”
“Yes?” She looked over her shoulder
“Keep safe.”
“You too, Dil, you too.” The door clicked shut.
-
London looked different when she was hungry. Streetlamps blurred into golden halos and every passerby seemed impossibly warm against the night's chill. She was walking briskly, trench coat swaddled around her with a hood up, hands buried deep in the pockets, her heart hammered-as much as a near dead heart could hammer. She gracefully weaved past groups of people and out walked most men with longer legs.
Her stomach felt like she swallowed the sun, she imagined if she were Muggle she’d be puking up what they call ‘stomach acid’. Her throat felt raw like she had a rake drug up it, and her mouth swelled with the clear tangy liquid that haunted her daily life. She could feel the glands in her mouth swell, everything smelt so sweet, but she kept pushing forward, scanning right to left.
Eventually she turned onto Larkhall Lane, and it wasn’t long before she smelt another. The best she could describe the peculiar scent was as if she were smelling warmth, accompanied by something acidic and strong. Mixed with the staple smell was Honeysuckle and rosemary, one of her own.
Auzyra let her nose lead her like an invisible string, back behind a building on Smedley.
A snarl ripped the air and Auzyra took to a crouch, returning the menacing sound as she stared the female in the crimson eyes. Both vampire straightened and embrace immediately.
“You’re starving, Auzyra.” Catrin remarked, tipping the girl’s head up.
“So I am.” She said, removing the green contacts from her eye, letting the crimson shine through. “Where is Fin.” She leaned up against the wall and produced a cigarette from her pocket.
“Fetching Matty.” The girl shrugged and leaned up against the wall with Auzyra.
Matty would skin her alive if she hunted without permission. Five hundred years of life had somehow only made the Russian more of a muppet.
“Still haven’t shoved Finny to the sun?” She chuckled, but received a snarl in return as the cig was slapped from her hand. Auzyra gave the touchy newborn some space, but took a defensive crouch.
“Enough.” Came a rough velvety voice, both females straightened as two people approached. Finian strode forward and took Catrin into his arms, burrowing his nose in her black coils.
Matvey adjusted his tunic, his blonde hair curling upwards. He did not meet Auzyra’s gaze, she was not worthy of his attention and never would be. The man had been around since before Shakespeare could spell his name, Auzyra was no more than a human infant with fangs.
But they all had one mutual end goal: Tonight was time for the hunt.
-
The four leeches ended up outside a suburban home. According to Mat, there was a family of five inside.
Auzyra discarded her coat and Doc Martins on top of a trike on the porch, no need to tousle her nice clothes.
The door was split open without as much as a sound, using a wand Fin cast Homenum Revilo. Two in a room on the right, two to the left.
The scent hit her the moment she stepped through the doorway.
Someone had left their loafers beside the stairs, a child's animal abandoned in the hall. She stepped over a teething ring without so much as a glance, her attention fixed on the heartbeats echoing behind the bedroom door.
She had barely wrapped her fingers around the doorknob before something slammed into her chest. The world blurred as she crashed into the refrigerator hard enough to dent the metal.
She snarled in anger and stalked back to the porch, kicking rocks far and wide as she paced, her head felt ready to explode if she waited another second.
Blood always had a smell after a hunt. Copper and salt clung to the air, mingling with overturned furniture and something distinctly human that she had never quite learned to describe. More death, perhaps.
Only when Mat stepped into the hallway and nodded did she dare re-enter.
She approached a trembling child and licked her fangs. The boy was no older than 10. A tiny thing, not enough for her, damn them.
“Get away monster get away!” The boy screamed.
“I’m no monster, I’m a doctor.” She grinned, then consumed her meal.
-
The cab back to Merton was dingy and slow. Auzyra made sure to generously tip the driver before entering her flat.
Flicking on a light she dropped her stuff at the door and went for the liquor. She was probably a full bottle in and was yet to get a buzz.
Her throat still felt raw, but no sufficient food would be available again for tonight. Half a loaf of bread sat abandoned on the counter. Being a halfling was dreadfully inconvenient. Full vampires at least got to commit to the bit and didn't have a grocery bill. She popped a toast in the oven, she needed some nutrients in order to sleep.
The vampire crossed the room and collected the prophet, the front cover still raged about ‘Sirius Black’ whom escaped three days ago, she wasn’t worried about being killed by him. What concerned her was the letter stuck to the paper.
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.