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Snake Charmer; Nate, possibly Iscariot
Topic Started: Oct 26 2007, 08:53 PM (535 Views)
Mikayla Covington
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Charms/Head of Ravenclaw
Professor
She was right.

And wrong.

Well, mostly right.

When she first arrived back at Hogwarts and had crossed paths with Gryffindor's Head of House; Michael Iscariot, she had correctly deduced (she never guessed) that within a short span of time she too would begin to cave in to the pressures of being a professor and Head of House. Or whatever pressures there were that had the Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor looking so haggard and... old. (Though part of her had to give him credit; he might have looked ready to pass out from exhaustion at any given moment, but she still walked away thinking that he was "kind of cute," an admission she would take to her grave.)

She was wrong because the change in her had been different. On hindisght, she realized, it was stupid of her to have assumed that she could handle Hogwarts' students simply because she had taught muggle children. These were not children nor were they muggle, which added an element that she wasn't readily prepared for. No matter how many blocks she put up, they found a way around them. Eventually she came to realize that as talented as she was at Charms, she was no match for the up-and-coming whizzes who had resources that hadn't yet been invented in her day.

It took all the strength within her not to run away screaming after that first week. After the first month it got a little better. Gradually she started changing. Her hair which had always been boyishly cut now grew to her shoulders, cupping her chin. Eventually she purchased clear contacts since her glasses always seemed to disappear or fog up during lessons (she just knew it was that one Slytherin student behind it all.) But otherwise she was the same, more wear for the tear, wearing torn jeans and rock t-shirts under her robes. When she was sure she was in safe company she would slip back on her lady bug glasses. And she maintained her soft-spoken, fidgity personality, keeping control of her rowdy students (Slytherins) through means of detention and threats. (One of these days they were going to figure out she didn't even know how to perform a Combustion Charm, and then what would she do?)

As it was, all the professors had to peruse the corridors at night just in case students were out and about past curfew. The Heads of Houses all divided up sections of the large castle and for the most part Mik was happy with hers since she was pretty much resigned to the Ravenclaw tower and her students never (well, rarely) ever misbehaved. Unfortunately, The Slytherin Head of House, Ms. Mailloux, took it upon herself to vanish without a trace and of all the other capabable professors the Headmaster left it to her to take over her route. Which would have been swell had it not included the dungeons.

The thing about the dungeons was that it was never deserted when it was supposed to be, especially at night. Students, for some odd reason, took it upon themselves to throw parties and have secret liasions there. Once she had caught a young couple engaged in some disturbing sexual acts, but had failed to report it since she couldn't put it into words. Since then she was reluctant to ever go back down there and had tried putting it off on every other professor, excluding Iscariot, but to no avail.

"Oh my," she sighed, pushing her glasses up on the bridge of her nose as she descended the spiral stairs leading to the dungeons. As it was past bedtime she was adorned in a simple white night gown that brushed against her ankles. Even still she wore her set of navy robes, and had her wand at the ready. She was hoping and praying that she wouldn't bump into anyone tonight, that the usual gang of disobedient Slytherins had saught adventure somewhere else.

Unfortunately, as she stepped onto the landing, she realized how naive she was to hope for something so simple as that.

"I-it's past curfew. How many times do we have to go through this?" she sighed, eyeing the same Slytherin that she had been having problems with since day one. She didn't like the way he stared at her. But she was the adult, and she tried not to show incompetence. "Do I have to escort you back to your room or can you find it on your own?"
Mikayla Covington
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Nathan Helsing
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6th Year Student/ Slytherin
"I've come up with several things of interest, Master Helsing," said a very soft-spoken voice that held little to no emotion within the female vocal chords. The voice seemed to be coming from within a cauldron, though the depths were mirror like, and seemed to be connected with what seemed to be the end of a black hole. On the other end was a young woman, perhaps ten years older than the young Slytherin. He nodded into the cauldron, running his calloused fingers through his still-gelled hair. The image of the woman on the other side was blurred, though there was the sound of children in the background, in the distance.

"How soon can you get photos of these pieces to me?" he whispered. His face was in flat contentance, wearing the almost seemingly unnatural poker face he could give. It was rather odd to see him without a demonic smile, but at the moment, he clearly meant business. He rubbed his chin. This wasn't good at all--the Daily Prophet and all other lines of evidence were leading to a story, but certain things just didn't fit. There he was, standing in the maze of dungeons, talking to a loyal servant of the family, to get outside information.

"I'll send a post owl tonight. Judging from the weather, I suspect that they should be to you by dinner. Oh. Your Father sent you something as well," the voice said, completely monotone.

"Good job, Damn Maid," he replied with a sigh. He took out a single vial and dripped a suspicious looking liquid into the cauldron, and soon, he was staring at his own reflection. He straightened his robes over his shoulders and turned to walk away.

Clearly, he didn't have any plans for going to bed anytime soon. Then again, when did the budding young man even have time for sleep? Between detention, Slytherin Quidditch practice, classes, building up his army, extorting people, advanced herbology with the Damn Spook and keeping up with his investigation, there rarely was time in his scheduale to sleep. But somehow, he managed to wake up in the early morning with the same demonic energy as the day before. Just as he seemed to be ready to go find Shayla, he paused at the presence of someone. His eyes glowed like red rubies in front of the illuminated tip of his wand.

It was one of the Professors.

"I-it's past curfew. How many times do we have to go through this?" she sighed, eyeing the same Slytherin that she had been having problems with since day one. She didn't like the way he stared at her. But she was the adult, and she tried not to show incompetence. "Do I have to escort you back to your room or can you find it on your own?"

And he stared, a face of just utter, "Excuse me?" before his asian lips grew into the distorted yet charming smile that he was infamous for.

"My my. It's a pair of breasts attatched to a woman," he said with a smiling, disinterested yawn. Perhaps of the new professors, he didn't like this one the most. She was....well, how to say it. A push over? He barely even had to exert any kind of real energy to get his way. Sure, he was brilliant in her class just like in every other class, but to him, this Professor was nothing new. At least Iscariot put up a fight. And Damn Spook knew which of his buttons to push.

"Hmm. But what exactly is an Eagle doing in the Dungeons? This is Slytherin territory..."

He glanced her up and down.

"Waiting for a lover?"
“Morality and justice don't really suit me. Words like that and what comes out of asses are surprisingly similar.”--Nathan Helsing
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Mikayla Covington
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Charms/Head of Ravenclaw
Professor
Charming, he might have seemed to others, but all Mik saw was another arrogant Slytherin too slick for his own good and the good of others. Nathan Helsing was, she suspected, one of the few snakes who was intelligent enough to get away with being a smart-ass most of the time with the professors. She couldn't deny that he was one of her more advanced students, the problem was that he knew it too and his attitude was all the worst for it. Put simply, he was a typical spoiled, bratty, sneaky, rude little sonofasnake who was fortunate enough to have a brain big enough to match his ego.

"Excuse me?" she repeated, aghast at his crude language. If she needed further proof--which she didn't--that he didn't respect her, there it was. She was quite repulsed and angry that he would even have the nerve. So she was a female and smaller than him and not necessarily authoritative, but she was still his Professor. Still his superior. "Watch your mouth, Nathan. Contrary to what you may think, I have no problem dragging you up to the Headmaster's office and letting her deal with you."

It made her sad to admit it, but it was easier to deal with him when she was angry. In fact, she was almost always angry when she had to deal with him. She knew he viewed her as weak and inferior, which was the general assmption, but he always took it too far. Purposely going out of his way to make rude or crude comments, ignoring her commands, and leaving sarcastic comments on his papers. She was also quite sure that it was he who sent her a package of pornographic material annonymously. And then there was the one incident when all her robes were replaced with see-through garments.

Nathan Helsing was a horrid child.

But he was a child, nonetheless, and she had no choice but to deal with him.

"I'm a Professor, Nathan. There is no place in this castle exempt from me. Slytherin territory or not, where I go I command." she said with a quirky smile. "And I suggest you head up to your dormitory right now before you get yet another detention. I heard Iscariot has you for the whole month."

She smirked, wholly uncharacteristic of herself, but she couldn't help it. That man was a God in her eyes.

Mikayla Covington
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Nathan Helsing
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6th Year Student/ Slytherin
Nathan put his hands behind his head and yawned. Truth be told, he was in a rather foul mood to begin with. The one Professor that seemed to understand him had up and left--where did that damned Spook of a Professor go anyway? Hmmph. It wasn't like that type of thing was normal. Everything from pets, to people liked to disappear on him--but it was something he had to live with. And perhaps more than anyone, he felt that loss more than anyone. Needless to say, when the new Herbology Professor showed up on the Hogwarts doorstep, he wasn't exactly thrilled. In fact, he had got up and left in the middle of class. It was hard enough that he had actually started to show respect for the damn ghost. But for him to get up and leave was unacceptable.

Making him slightly meaner than usual. He had to get rid of that negative energy somehow, didn't he?

Sure, she was a Professor, and sure, she held a position higher than him. But to him, she was just another person that would disappear. Why would he want to form attatchments? So he was cruel. Crueler on a different level than he treated his minions.

"Go ahead and do it then," he said with a smile that was laced with venom. He stood up straight. He was going to play, he wanted to test her. What COULD she make him do? Detention? Seeing the Headmaster? It wasn't anything that hadn't happened before. Were they supposed to scare him?

He caught her eyes. Did she have it in her will to actually make him do something? The woman was no Iscariot, and it pissed him off to think that she was the kind of person that would hide behind Iscariot. Iscariot's threats were true, and Nathan respected him for that. The Damn Spook punished him by being kind, and Nathan didn't know how to handle kindess. Friendship. Understanding. It seemed the only thing he knew how to do was manipulate. There were few people that understood his true intentions. So what if people thought he was evil? Did he truely care?

How was SHE going to deal with HIM?
“Morality and justice don't really suit me. Words like that and what comes out of asses are surprisingly similar.”--Nathan Helsing
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Mikayla Covington
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Professor
She was beginning to feel rather proud of herself thus far, having “handled” him without getting too steamed or offended. She knew threats of detention meant nothing to someone like Nathan Helsing, even with Iscariot. In fact she was beginning to believe that the Asian actually enjoyed his time spent with the older Gryffindor professor, why else would he continue to cause trouble knowing where it would get him? Ah, but he thought he was so smart, so clever, that he’d never get caught and even getting caught was nothing compared to the credence it lent his already horrid reputation as Hogwarts biggest badass. He really was a despicable young creature and Mik worried about the future with him in it.

Still it was part of her nature to wonder why he was so dastardly in the first place. She suspected it had a lot to do with his family, it had to be rough growing up in such an established family, a family of hunters no less, knowing that he’d probably never measure up to his older siblings and family members who had already made names for themselves. That was reason enough for him o act out, but she also wondered if the disappearance of the head of Slytherin had anything to do with it. She knew from experience how close students were to their Heads, how they became the parents while the children were at school, so she could imagine how all of the Slytherins were affected by Mailloux’s sudden disappearance. She didn’t know what his relationship was like with her, but she imagined that he must have been affected as well.

He challenged her, his words and stare held no trace of kindness. Goodness. But she tried not to sink to his level, though she knew of a nifty little spell that would seal his smart mouth for good. Oh, if he only knew, if any of them only knew. She knew a multitude of jinxes and hexes that were worse than any Unforgivable Curse, and even those she knew to well. She could just imagine his face twisted and contorted under the Cruciatus, his screams echoing throughout the halls…

Sighing, she pushed those thoughts out of her mind. Approaching him she tried to reason, “Why are you so horrible to me? Is it because you know that no matter how much you push I’ll never leave? I’ll never abandon any of my students, including you Nathan, and I imagine that pisses you off, doesn’t it? Because she left you, she left without a goodbye. And let me tell you, you have every right to be hurt and angry and spiteful, but not towards me. Not at Iscariot. Direct your anger in the right place, otherwise you might find yourself at Durmstrang with very different professors, who could care even less than she did.”
Mikayla Covington
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Nathan Helsing
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6th Year Student/ Slytherin
Nathan listened to her speech, a cruel smile plastered on his face. His dried blood brown eyes watched her with an intensity that scared every single one of his peers: there were always something brewing behind those thin eyes of his. Was it hate? Cruelty? Rage? They were those eyes that stared intently, that were thoughtful and intense, though they reflected no ones image. In certain lights, they appeared to be blood red. Eyes that had seen things that had seen too much that no child or person should have seen, eyes that carried burdens that no child or person should have to carry. But he carried them without a complaint. Those blood red eyes were his stigma. He never played the role of the tragic child, however. It was never in his style to do something like that.

But he listened, and he didn't fear her. Because the snake was so unhealthily desensitized to fear. Threats. A cracking of the whip across his back, carving in scars. Pain. Bodily threats. Psychological threats? He could handle those without a flinch. And it wasn't because he was trying to seem like a badass. That reputation just kind of happened.

After she was done with her rant about "her" or whoever her was his lips curved upwards, and he laughed--a deep throated laugh, his eyes twinkling giddely. Who in the world did this woman think she was? He assumed she was assuming to the Head of Slytherin. People disappeared in and out of his life far too easily, and it was almost sick at how well he accepted it. It was a conditioned nature for him not to become too close to anyone that was mortal, whose deaths were salient and oh-too-familiar. And that was what struck Nathan off guard. Because Professor Aster was immortal in his death, and he never expected him to go away. That was Nathan's first mistake. The Head of Slytherin? Professor Iscariot? Professor Covington? They were even more likely to disappear.

"You say you won't leave, but you don't know that for sure, do you?" he said, his laughing dying out quickly. His face became stone solid. "You don't even know what's going to happen to you tommorrow, no matter how well you plan it out," he narrowed his eyes.

His thin eyes widened. "Because no matter what you say, you'll disappear. Like bubbles in that damned Mermaid fairy tale," he said with a smirk. "So you have no damn place to lecture me."

Lightly touching his forhead, he smiled maliciously. "I don't even know why I bother even talking to you," he said with a cold stare, brushing his hair through his fingers. "You're just like the rest of them."

She tried to understand him. But he knew that she'd never see him eye to eye. People rarely did.

Plain and simple. He turned to walk off, to travel further into the dungeons--there were things he had to do. Let her give him detention. It didn't phase him. Nothing rarely did. Besides, he hated seeing tears.
“Morality and justice don't really suit me. Words like that and what comes out of asses are surprisingly similar.”--Nathan Helsing
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Mikayla Covington
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Charms/Head of Ravenclaw
Professor
His sarcastic smirk, his "intense" stare, she was all too aware of his tactics, but he had made one very simple mistake; he thought she feared him. She was not one of his little "minions" nor was she one of his victims cowering away from him. She was soft-spoken and passive and nonthreatening, but only because it was in her nature to be so. That was who she was. She didn't fear people, she feared things. She feared failure and disappointment. And when she looked at Nathan that was all she saw, despite his brilliance and potential. It would all be wasted, she knew. He would go out into the world having learned nothing, knowing nothing. Changing nothing. She didn't fear Nathan Helsing she feared what he'd become. And, more importantly, she feared that she would be partially to blame.

She pitied him. She pitied him for being a child born into a family of murderous adults, who'd no doubt instilled in him the desire to go out and hunt and destroy what he didn't understand, couldn't understand either. She was no fan of vampires or what she'd heard of them, but she knew that the desire to hunt was directly correlated to the desire to destroy what wasn't understood. It was the same impulse responsible for racism, sexism, and bigotry. That was the future in store for Nathan Helsing. It was sad, and he was even sadder for trying to live up to it. And she was sad because she knew there was nothing anybody could do to change him. He was too far gone.

She tried not too be too annoyed by his laughter, his utter indifference to his own plight. He wasn't even aware of where he was headed, was he? She pitied him all the more for it. His words only further assured her of what she'd said. He had abandonment issues, despite the way he behaved, his nonchalance. She could've taken his words for a threat, but she didn't fear him nor what he could do to her, which was nothing. He might've viewed her as weak and incompetent as well, but if he or anyone else, was foolish enough to try something they'd soon discover just how capable she was of defending herself. She wasn't the Charms professor for nothing, next to Defense Against the Dark Arts--and some would say before it--it was the best subject for learning how to perform spells and defend yourself.

She tuned out the rest of his childish words, every syllable confirming her every thought of him and what he was. His cold stare merely seemed injured in her mind. He was crying for help, surely. Well, she'd help him. Whether he appreciated it or not. "Only death would make me leave, and we both know even that doesn't guarantee I won't still be here. I don't teach Divination, but I don't have to in order to know that I would never abandon you. I'm where I want to be, I love what I do. I love every single one of my students, including you." she said, taking a step towards him as he turned away. If he expected tears, he was sorely mistaken. "You'll be gone from this place before me, Nathan. Mark my words. And I'm not lecturing you, I'm trying to help you! I care, I care enough to try despite the fact that all you do is insult me at every turn. So, you're wrong, I am different. It's you who are the same."

"What, you think you're the first Slytherin to walk through these halls and feel misunderstood? You think hundreds of others haven't had even worse reputations than the one you seem to glorify in? You think you're... special?" she said, stopping short of his turned back. "You're exactly the same. You don't even realize how typical you are, how predictable. You know what would surprise me, Nathan? If one day you weren't what you try to be. If you just... let someone in. If not me then Iscariot, just... no one ever got any where alone, Nathan."

"Hate me if you must, but Nathan, for your own good, learn to trust somebody." she said before she turned and walked away. Detention was pointless. There was nothing more she could do for him, except teach, if he wouldn't let her.
Mikayla Covington
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Nathan Helsing
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6th Year Student/ Slytherin
Back turned to her, he continued to walk deeper into the dungeons. His ears were wide open; he could hear everything. Every word that she said. Every single word. He couldn't ignore it. Everything around him was absorbed into him, he was always ready to jump and leap and attack or defend, whatever he need be. He was the snake, seemingly asleep, but ready to coil and go in for the kill. It was true though, perhaps he was too far gone. Maybe he did have abandonment issues. But Nathan wasn't helpless. Nathan was not the tragic helpless child. He would never let himself become that. Sure, there may have been a day when he was ripped to shreds by some vampire or other creature, but he readily accepted that. His own death was salient. All too salient. But he wouldn't dwell on it. Couldn't.

I care. I love you. I won't disappear.

Things like that struck a wrong chord with him. He paused in his walking away. Damn Breasts words were nothing but empty. Nothing but empty words. People could say "I love you" and not mean it. There was no such thing as love. Not what she was talking about. No one was ever that nice. Love was...

Love was the crack of a whip across his black, tearing open the flesh. Punishment. His father's words, "I love you." Or was it the gentle touch his now deceased older brother Jesse had said? The one person that had really cared for Nathan Helsing. Who had been that one person who had sheltered him from Emma. From Walter. That was love. Jesse, when Nathan had been a first year, had been a seventh year. Jesse died that year. Burnt to a crisp in the seat Nathan would sit in for his Defense Against the Dark Arts class. That had probably been his turning point. Nathan's grades hadn't been the best then, but he had been an almost normal child. He found himself reminiscing about the past, and he quickly cut off those thoughts.

No. The words Damn Breasts uttered were not love. They were pity. And Nathan hated that. He didn't want pity.

He slipped his hands in his pocket, and turned around to look at her, even though she was walking away.

"Give me..." he said, almost mummbling before he grasped onto what he really wanted to say. "Give me a reason to trust you, to respect you, and I'll do it," he shouted at her. He glared her down intently.

It was a challenge, specifically for Damn Breasts.
“Morality and justice don't really suit me. Words like that and what comes out of asses are surprisingly similar.”--Nathan Helsing
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Mikayla Covington
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Professor
She tried to understand her own motives. She tried to figure out exactly what he had mentioned: why did she care? Why did it matter? She felt that it was reason enough that he was one of her students. Not in her House, no, but he was still her student. He still belonged to her like he belonged to every other professor in the school. He was her problem whether she liked it or not. And though he was on the verge of becoming a man, it did little to change that fact; it affected nothing in her eyes. She still viewed him as a child, her student, her pupil. He was still under her care, at least while he was at Hogwarts. There were students, both male and female, six-feet-tall or better, practically towering over her, there were a few students who seemed capable of nothing but wickedness, who would never accomplish anything or go anywhere in life, and there were a few students whom she believed already had the potential to commit great evil. Perhaps even murder. But Nathan Helsing wasn’t one of them, surprisingly.

Her care and concern seemed largely due to the fact that he was a student at Hogwarts, therefore it seemed a likely conclusion that things would change once he graduated and became an adult and ventured into the world she was a part of. If that were the case maybe things would be different, maybe he wouldn’t have turned his back but instead faced her, maybe attacked her. But she doubted it. He was disrespectful, surely, but not so much as that. And, she realized, that even if he left Hogwarts, though she’d be relieved, she wouldn’t stop caring for him. She wouldn’t hesitate to offer her help if he needed it, if he asked. It was the same way she remembered all her former students and still sent them letters from time to time. She’d take any of them in if she could. And she wouldn’t abandon Nathan even if he became the adult that she feared he would.

She was surprised when he spoke again, and even more surprised when se turned and saw him facing her. His glare meant nothing compared to his words. She couldn’t help smiling just a little bit, feeling that she’d already given him what he wanted. They were the first words he’d ever said to her without making a reference to her breasts or body. “Nathan, everyday I continue to allow you to sit in my class is a reason. We both know I could refuse to allow you in now. But if you need a reason, if anything will make you respect me… it’ll come when you realize that I treat you no differently than my other students whom I love very much. You don’t understand Love, Nathan, but you will.” She said with a smile and continued to walk away. “I’m looking forward to being the first woman to teach you the meaning of Love… goodnight.
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