Transformation [open]

[Kerridon Paradox]

Kerridon made his way outside with a bag slung over his shoulder and several heavy books weighing it down. Ever since he’d seen D’rorah transform into her animagus he’d been wondering about the subject, and a few days later had started to read about it. It was a complicated process, and technically, it may have been wiser to actually register with the Ministry before going about it. But that Register was open for all to see, which sort of defeated the purpose of him transforming. He’d quickly decided that a small creature would be better if he wanted to use the animal form to spy, plus that would make the process quicker because smaller animals were so much easier to transform into. Flight had also been an advantage that had caught his eye when D’rorah had transformed into her sparrow form, but he wasn’t sure if a bird would work quite as well as what he had in mind. And it seemed that despite not being able to choose, whatever internal thing did choose the form managed to tick both of those boxes.

It had taken him a lot of attempting the transformations, but had slowly been getting better. A few weeks ago he had succeeded completely, and was now out to experiment with this newfound knowledge of his. It really wasn’t as easy as an outsider might think if they saw how little time it had taken him since getting the idea. But all of his energy had been focussed on that rather than anything else, and there had been a distinct lack of sleep. It reminded him of when he was younger, when if he really got his mind stuck into something he wouldn’t emerge from his room for weeks except for food. Not to mention that there had been the original notes on the subject which he had recovered after a quick, secret apparition session to his old home. They were more substantial than he had originally thought, which also helped to speed along the process.

The safest place seemed to be Potter Park, enclosed by hedges as it was. So long as there were no students there, it would be fine. The animal he was about to change into would not look particularly out of place, except perhaps for its size. Sure enough there was no one there – it was lunch for the rest of the school – and he dropped his bag underneath a bench, as well hidden as it could be for if anyone else entered and caught him off guard. Picking one book out from among the stack, he flipped through to a page covered in his own handwritten notes. It was his own book, ordered on fast owl from Diagon Alley, since he had thought it not prudent to write on one of the library books that anyone could view after he was done with it. Looking over the page once, he then closed it and placed it with his bag.

After another quick look around, he concentrated and a few seconds later had transfigured. Where he had been standing, a large, dark moth was fluttering slightly, its left wing torn a bit at the edges. That was one thing he had noticed immediately, and assumed it must have come from the multiple scars; evidence of Gat’s torture. He was aware of the irony of a moth living in darkness and being drawn to light, but chose not to pay too close attention to that. The dark colour would also blend in easily in the Shadow Realm, which was a plus.

[Katherine Knightswood]

Katherine was having a horrid day, and despite everything she tried, it wasn’t getting any better. By lunchtime, she felt like she’d swallowed a nest of ferrets, and had bitten her lip bloody once trying to choke back tears. Despite the fact that it was a beautiful day, Katherine wanted to go back to the dorm and crawl into bed. Between D’rorah’s misery, Alessandro’s death and the aura of wrongness that was plaguing her over Dylan, Katherine was a complete mess.

The Ravenclaw choked down her lunch without tasting it and then fled the Castle. She wandered the ground aimlessly, part of her looking for a place to hide, part of her not caring if she found it. Katherine was in one of the blackest moods she’d ever had and she didn’t have a clue how to snap out of it. Even the heavy wool jumper she had on didn’t warm the cold that seemed to have invaded her core. She finally came to the entrance to Potter Park and seeing the place was empty, she went in. She slouched down on one of the benches and bit her lip again, fighting back tears.

Katherine finally gave into the urge to cry, weeping silently. She had pulled her sleeves down over her hands to try and warm them, and the wool of her jumper acquired a salty dampness as Katherine buried her face in her hands and cried. She wept for her Maman and Papa and her dearest Nana, for D’rorah and her broken heart, for Alessandro’s death and the pain it caused, for Zane’s parents and for his pain. When she finally stopped crying, she felt spent and exhausted, but her heart was much lighter. So much, so much for one mere eleven-year-old to carry.

Katherine dried her eyes on the hem of her jumper and looked up, making sure no one was there. A bit of motion caught her eye, and she gasped in wonder at the sight before her. “La Sorcière Noire,” she breathed in amazement. The largest Black Witch moth she’d ever seen in her life was hovering over the bushes of the Park. A rainbow of purples and blues and pinks rippled along its wings, catching the sunlight and reflecting it. How could she not have noticed something so incredibly beautiful? The moth’s eyespots, shaped just like commas, glittered in the sun.

Katherine had heard tales of Ascalapha odorata from her Papa, who had studied magical and Muggle insects as a hobby. According to legends, they were a sign of death or curses, but that was only folktales. Oh, this one was absolutely gorgeous! As if entranced, Katherine held out her right hand toward the moth, watching it closely. “If only I had some nectar for you.” She shook her head sadly. “You poor thing, you’re far from home.” She noted the damage to the moth’s left wing and winced. “Ah, even worse, you’re hurt. I wish I could help you, but I’ve not studied enough Healing yet.” Katherine sighed. “But someday, Morgan and Merlin willing, I may be able to help even you.”

[Kerridon Paradox]

Kerridon continued to fly, stretching new muscles humans were really not used to having. It was quite the strange sensation, really. He wondered how high he could fly before a lack of oxygen or strong winds became too much of an issue. But before he could begin testing his limits, he was distracted by a movement to one side of him. Backing into the leaves and branches of the hedge behind him, he waited for the person to come closer so he could recognise them and judge whether they might be a threat.

In fact, he did know the person who had come to the park – it was Katherine, the first year he had so blatantly mistrusted when in D’rorah’s dormitory a few days ago. He hadn’t been able to say all he had wanted to that time because of her presence, and she had also been the cause of him saying some not-so-nice things for the younger Ravenclaw’s ears to try and prevent her asking any more about why Dylan was acting as he was towards D’rorah. He did regret having to say that in front of D’rorah, but had wanted to forestall the conversation topic of where Dylan had been or why he had changed to protect his own cover. Instincts taught to him by his father years ago to look after his own cover first and foremost sometimes kicked in automatically, and occasionally meant some slightly untactful remarks or actions, as exemplified on that occasion.

He might not trust Katherine, but D’rorah apparently did so he didn’t immediately go elsewhere to transform and then return for his bag later. Instead he began flying upwards, away from the first year and back to his original plan; testing how high he could go. Unfortunately, the moth’s lungs were a lot smaller than his own normal human lungs, so it turned out he could not go that far before becoming short of breath. It took a while to fly up anyway, so the exertion from flying for so long probably didn’t help either. Starting from the Astronomy Tower might have been a better idea, but when he had originally headed outside he had not had a clear picture of what he wanted to do.

He wasn’t sure how much time he had taken but hoped that perhaps Katherine might be gone by the time he reached the ground again, so began to return. Unfortunately, she was still there, and as he got closer he could hear and see her crying; something that made him want to go back even less. He disliked open displays of emotion, both from himself because he didn’t like other people seeing him like that, but also in others because it made him feel uncomfortable – at least recently. When he had been training – and to some extent afterwards as well – many of the people he had killed had been begging him not to kill them or their families, and he had been taught to see this as a sign of weakness. Not only did Katherine’s display make him feel traces of guilt for those people, but it also made him focus on her as weak – he would hunt out other weaknesses as he had been trained, and see how he could manipulate her.

He came down somewhat cautiously, trying to ignore the innocent, defenceless appearance of the young girl that was so obvious to him. He had been planning on returning straight to the hedge as a hiding place until she left, but that plan went crashing when Katherine looked up and obviously saw him. He heard her whisper the name of the moth and, seeing his amazement ventured a little closer. Maybe if he appeased her curiosity she might appear less upset and vulnerable. And she did seem quite entranced by his appearance. Had he been in human form a crooked grin would have been hidden at the mention of him being far from home, but in this form he had no need to hide the motion – it wasn’t as if it was visible anyway.

He could hear her speaking about his damaged wing and how she’d like to mend it, which effectively removed any humour he was still feeling and turned his invisible crooked grin into an invisible frown. However much this girl might improve her Healing skills, he very much doubted she would ever get to the level of being able to remove those scars. Seeing her outstretched hand, he warily moved closer to it, but didn’t quite sit on it yet. Just hovered very near.