un pacte des loups // vincent

[VINCENT JACOB DORÉE]

Vincent winced and groaned every so often"I would have...been fine," he stuttered out. Even when pain was shooting through his body, he was still attempting to convince Araziel to let him stay in the Forbidden Forest. This is how much Vincent hated the Hospital Wing: he would rather stay int he forest, where a centaur or worse could get him, than face Madam Pomfrey. Finally, he gave up and rested his face on Araziel's back, too tired to keep it up any longer.

Vincent's head snapped to attention when he heard Araziel. Even before he had been turned into a werewolf, he had to visit Madam Pomfrey often. Vincent wasn't exactly what you would call a graceful or even a careful person. "Are you crazy?!" he said, panicking. Countless times, the nurse would make him drink the worst potions when he broke his arm or dislocated a joint. Yes, he held her personally responsible for the taste of the potions she made him drink.

"Uagh!" Vincent said, as he was rested onto one of the beds. "What do you think you're doing?" he asked Araziel, desperately, grabbing his friends collar. He quickly let go, though when the dreaded Madam Pomfrey came walking towards his bed. She came to a halt midway walking to his bed when she saw him. "Heavens!" she said, gasping, putting her right hand to her throat.

Vincent glanced at Araziel, obviously nervous about Madam Pomfrey finding out about his condition. "What have you done to yourself?" she asked, quickly moving forward and grabbing his arm. After analyzing him for only a moment more, she put her fists on her hips and turned to Vincent saying,"Mr. Dorée, is there something you would like to tell me?"

[Araziel Léon Vasilica]

Araziel just rolled his eyes to himself, ignoring most of Vincent's complaining. "Yeah, I am pretty crazy, actually. But ... this is one of the less crazy things I've done." With a 'hmph,' the vampire tried to step back but Vincent had held onto him. "Shhh just keep still and stop being a baby!" Araziel hissed back, brushing Vincent away and taking a seat on the adjacent bedpan as the medic lady came marching out.

Truth be told, Araziel wasn't so fond of hospitals either. But then again, he would take the hospitals over Devereux any day ... even if Devereux's medical and healing expertise was admirable. He might have been the Chevalerie's expert, but that didn't mean Araziel had to like him. Maybe it was part of the reason that Araziel rarely became ill. The thought of what potions Devereux might use to experiment on Araziel was motivation enough to not become ill.

He turned his attention back to Madam Pomfrey and Vincent, carefully watching the exchange. When she recoiled in surprise, however, Araziel anxiously bit his lip and wrung his hands in his lap, his gaze darting back and forth between the two figures. He almost opened his mouth at her exclamation as if to answer it, but then he seemed to think better of it and quickly quieted down again, slipping off of the hospital bed to go hover on the other side of Vincent's bed almost defensively, as if expecting Madam Pomfrey to do something rash like attack Vincent upon her realization. He'd dealt with this kind of thing before, after all; vampire and werewolf counseling, if you will.

When she demanded Vincent explain, though, Araziel looked increasingly worried as if now wondering if he'd made a wrong decision in bringing Vincent here. Decades of living under the anxiety of being discovered at any moment made Araziel a tad paranoid at times.

[VINCENT JACOB DORÉE]

Vincent was gradually regretting grabbing Araziel’s collar so forcefully because it had used up quite a lot of energy in his arms. He irritably allowed Araziel to simply push his hands away and he rested them back onto the bed. This instance reminded him of in his third year, when he attempted to steal some of the Quidditch balls, but instead of succeeding, he got his arm smashed by one of the Bludgers. That stupid ball. Because of that ball, he had to go to the Hospital Wing and Madam Pomfrey, of course, made him drink one of her disgusting potions. Ugh, he hated those things so very much. “Fine,” he muttered, almost pouting.

Vincent’s eyes widened and a look of extreme panic appeared on his face when he heard what Madam Pomfrey said to him in the accusing tone. “Wh-what?” he stuttered. He cast a panicked gaze to Araziel, and then looked back at the nurse. “No…no! There’s nothing I need to tell you,” he said, already showing signs of nervousness. Why, oh, why did he have to be such a bad liar? Madam Pomfrey sighed, knowing very well that she was not going to get the answer out of Vincent so easily.

“Mr. Dorée, would you mind telling me how exactly you got these…injuries?” she asked, obviously choosing her words carefully. Madam Pomrey stared down at Vincent with a steely gaze and crossed her arms over her chest, waiting for his answer.
“Ah…yeah,” Vincent said, attempting to come up with a lie as fast as he possibly could. “I was…uh… practicing…spells,” he said, his eyes shifting around,”…and one blew up on me.” He gave a huge grin at the nurse, hoping and praying that she would accept this pitiful lie.

Growing obviously more and more suspicious, Madam Pomfrey nodded. “Alright, if you’re not going to tell me, I’ll have to find out another way,” she said, taking a silver spoon off of one of the bedside tables and moving back towards him.

Vincent, of course, eyed the silver spoon hesitantly and said,”What are you doing with that..?” If she was doing what he thought she was doing, then his suspicions of her being truly evil would be verified, in his mind. She inched forward with the spoon, not answering Vincent’s panicked question. When the spoon was only an inch or so from Vincent’s hand, he burst out,”Ok, ok!” He pulled his hand closer to him, so that it was safe from the silver.

“Well?” asked Madam Pomfrey, staring down at poor Vincent.

Sighing, Vincent glanced at Araziel, obviously blaming him for what was happening to him. “Fine,” he said, bitterly,”I got attacked in June.” This was absolutely miserable. So much for his plan of keeping this whole thing a secret from a lot of people.

Without another word, Madam Pomfrey disappeared into her office to get a potion for Vincent to drink. “Here, drink this,” she said, resting the potion on his bedside table,”You realize that I’ll have to inform the headmaster of this.”

Vincent glared at her out of the corner of his eyes, not wanting to look at her. “I’m not drinking that,” he said, with a scoff.

[Araziel Léon Vasilica]

When Madam Pomfrey began the 'process' of trying to weasel the truth out of Vincent, Araziel simply bit his lip and remained silent, staring pointedly at the ground, more to avoid Vincent's gaze than Madam Pomfrey's. Unlike Vincent, Araziel could lie quite well when he waned to (unless in the case of close friends or family, in which he miraculously transformed into a gibbering fool upon trying to lie), but this time he didn't cover for Vincent, already figuring that the nurse would deduce the lycanthropy on her own. After all, she was a medical expert.

It was almost painful, the way Vincent tried to fib. Oh dear. Araziel buried his face in his hands, retreating back to the adjacent bed and sitting back down on the mattress' edge. This was not going to go well ... oh, not at all ...

He almost wanted to correct Vincent's improvised story, but all Araziel could really do was watch as Madam Pomfrey snatched up a silver spoon. Already guessing what she was going to with it, Araziel winced and flinched slightly as if he were again going to return to the bedside to defend Vincent from Madam Pomfrey's 'attack,' but he stopped himself just as before, knowing not to get in the way of authorities.

Exchanging glances with Vincent and looking increasingly apologetic, Araziel kept trying to convince himself that 'it was for the best.' After all, he would know, wouldn't he, having dealt with this sort of issue several times in the past (and present !) before? It was a bit different when the person in question was one's good friend, however. As such, Araziel still kept awkwardly silent when Vincent was finally forced to confess.

The vampire wrung his hands together, his gaze still fixed on the ground. Finally speaking up for the first time at the hospital wing, Araziel glanced back up and bit his lip. "C'mon, just drink the thing. The sooner this'll be over." He sighed and stood, folding his hands behind his back and warily glancing to Madam Pomfrey before looking to Vincent again. "It's really not so bad ... only the people who need to know, know." Ugh, Araziel didn't know what else to say, but ... that was the best he could manage. Vincent, however, didn't appear to be taking it the best.

[VINCENT JACOB DORÉE]

Vincent noticed the apologetic look on Araziel’s face several times, but he honestly didn’t care. He was far too angry at his friend and at the situation to do so. His hand was as far away from Madam Pomfrey as he could get it… He couldn’t help but wonder if he hadn’t said anything, would she have gone ahead with touching the silver to his skin? Well, it certainly wouldn’t have surprised him if she had. His hand was still tingling from where the spot had gotten so close to touching it. Evil woman.

A look of extreme disgust appeared on Vincent’s face at the sight of the potion. It was a thick, purple green substance and was there were strings of steam rising from the cup. He cast a quick glance at Araziel when he heard his friend speak, but he didn’t say anything in return. That was certainly easy for him to say…he wasn’t the one that had to drink the stuff.

Vincent glanced at Araziel out of the corners of his eyes only for a moment when he heard his next comment. “Yeah, well I didn’t want anyone to know about it,” he said, bitterly. This was actually very ridiculous of him to think, though. Signs of lycanthropy were so incredibly obvious that he should have known someone would figure out what he was.

Madam Pomfrey sighed, knowing what she was now going to have to do. “Vincent, are you really going to make me do this again? Just drink the potion, it’ll go down like pumpkin juice, she said in a last desperate attempt to get the werewolf to drink the potion of his own free will. Rolling her eyes, she said,”I see it will have to be by force once again.” She shook her head and turned to Araziel,” Dear, I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to leave… This won’t be pretty to watch.”