Breaking Dawn ... contd from Full Moon Rising

[Andromeda Fiorelli]

The forest floor was cold against her skin, the dampness of the morning dew not as comfortable against naked flesh as it was against coarse hair. Andromeda had slowly changed back into her human form with the waning of the moon and the slow rising of the morning sun. Somewhere the dawn chorus broke out to fill the forest with their beauty but in the surrounding area of the slender toned young woman, not a creature dared move. All seemed well acquainted with what she was and kept a save distance and then some! Turning slightly as she slept on the evidence of what had transpired hours earlier was livid on her face as blood stains smeared across her face, hands and torso left her looking brutal. At first glance perhaps someone could mistake the blood for her own and fear that the woman herself had been attacked instead of being the attacker! Andromeda rolled over to her side, curled up slowly and as her hair tumbled over her otherwise beautiful face she slept on unaware of the person she had killed or the hunt that was surely out for her at that moment.

Another hour or so passed and slowly she woke, rising to her feet and stumbling haphazardly through the copse of trees dazed and confused. She was cold now, frozen by her nakedness and terrified by the flashbacks that haunted her. All that raced through her mind was the constant torturing of the man with an unforgivable curse. With each memory of this she stopped and clung to a tree, her finger nails biting into the bark as she recalled with perfect clarity his writhing in agony. What had possessed her? What had made her do such a thing? She would have to reach her mentor somehow, tell her what happened. Andromeda paused, wasn't cursing people now exactly what she was supposed to do and would be expected to do once she became a full death eater?

Pushing herself from the tree she ran her hands across her face not realising that as she did so she smeared the blood further across it. Not once did she take any notice of her hands or body, she knew she was naked and with each step it was dawning on her that it had been a full moon, that she had obviously changed. Her amber eyes spotted a shack ahead and instantly she was racing towards it, the place looked desolate and would do for hiding her for now until she could figure something out. She would need to get a message to Ms Danielle but how without even a wand at her disposal? Her bare feet padded up the porch of the log cabin, she could smell something within but wasn't sure quite what it was. Gingerly she opened the door, exhaustion overwhelming her once again and only then did she take note of the smeared dried blood on her hands. Once inside she pushed the door closed as she hurriedly glanced down at her body. Her entire torso was coated in dried in blood as well.

She gasped remembering another person in the equation the night before but she could not remember anything else. Her body shook violently as if she were about to wretch her entire insides up and then suddenly she was falling to the floor in a dead faint. Her head thudding loudly with the fall.

 

[Dorian De Luca]

To any normal intruder, the creature curled up on the couch was nothing but a watchdog; a very lazy watchdog. The grog he gagged down every month wrestled with his stomach. As vile as the stuff was, it was a small price to pay for having control. He would have been starkers if not for baggy shorts and a grease stained t-shirt. Dorian hated the draft that followed every transformation. There were advantages to having a coat of hair, if you didn't consider the fact that every time Dorian took a nap on the sofa, he might as well be snuggling with a bear.

The night soon faced its end. Morphing back into human form was a matter of routine by now. Dorian went through the discomforts of the process, feeling like he was going to hurl up his stomach. Exhausted, he grabbed a weary old blanket and rolled into a cocoon. Getting up for bed would be a wasted effort.

As he spent his days reading books and plugging the leaks of a very leaky cabin, Dorian couldn't give a damn about keeping a schedule. He also didn't bother to lock his door. That turned out to be a bad idea- or a good one, depending on the witch or wizard you were talking to- as a completely nude female stepped into the shack. Dorian was very much a man. He stared for a while too long, even when the woman collapsed and made acquaintance with the nail-ridden floor.

Certain he was dreaming, Dorian struggled with the blanket, finally managing to unwrap himself. He tossed the ratty thing over her body. While there was no one here to ridicule him and the stranger was out for the count, he knew it would be indecent not to cover her. He lived alone in the middle of nowhere, but he wasn't a creep.

Picking the lady up and bringing her to the couch was more awkward than seeing her birthday suit. She had a pulse, but she was awfully cold. Dorian would have to drag a comforter out here after all. He had just begun to notice that strange, familiar scent that lingered like perfume on an unwashed garment.

Dorian's first instinct was to worry. He couldn't dismiss the fact that she was covered in blood, even if she wasn't bleeding anymore. Potions were his forte. While he had dabbed in healing spells, he didn't know what to do with this breath-stealing beauty.

 

[Andromeda Fiorelli]

Unconscious her mind returned her to the scene of her crime as it the mind of the werewolf and the mind of the woman could unite in this state. Harsh distorted images, bloodied and grim horrific in content, blared through her and with each despicable image her body shuddered, moved restlessly as if she were battling the demons that plagued her. Groans of agonising proportions emitted from her and she became feverish, almost delirious. Perhaps it was the hard blow to her head when she had been flung against the wall that did it or perhaps it was simply her guilty conscience berating her with vigor. Who was she to play at being a god? Who was she to torture someone so ruthlessly? But there was more, she had not drawn blood from the man she had cursed and yet the images flashing before her were awash with blood. The smell felt fresh and strong as if of a recent kill.

And then she could almost feel it, teeth sinking into flesh ripping and gouging and enjoying it all. The taste of blood and fear, the taste of flesh and agony. It had felt like a rush of adrenaline until now when through these images it was slowly dawning on her that she had killed. She may have been in her werewolf form but to her it did not matter, she had happily been casting the cruciatus curse on one man before devouring another. The faces of both swam before her now, begging her for mercy when she knew it was too late to show any. With a blood curdling scream she sat bolt upright, her eyes darting frantically around her.

Where was she? Looking down she saw a blanket wrapped about her and with more shock than fright she pulled it tighter about her naked form. Her amber eyes alighted on the face of a man looking well past his prime judging by his grubby appearance. If he had laid one finger on her she would tear him to shreds too, she stopped the thought before it had a chance to go further. The horror of what she had done still too fresh.
"Who are you and where am I?" she demanded as if she had every right to demand anything.

 

[Dorian De Luca]

Coarse feet scratched across the floor. The man hated to wear anything from his ankles to his toes. As a result, Dorian had proudly suffered his fair share (and more) of splinters throughout his life. If he could get away with going barefoot in public, he would. The one pair of footwear he owned, some worn and tired boots, had probably been kicked under his bed or left outside somewhere. Anyone who was brave enough to invite him over for dinner likely would want him to keep his boots on.

Dorian had no sooner snatched the comforter from his bed when the woman screamed. Turning on his heel, he ripped the blanket from the bed, the pillows flying off as he did so. He burst back into the room to find the stranger demanding a name and a location. He nearly suggested she carry a good map and a wand next time. However, he bit his tongue and decided to be polite. Manners were still important to this monster.

"I'm Dorian," he responded gruffly, coughing hard. He wasn't used to the sound of his own voice. With no one to talk to 99.99 percent of the time, he didn't really need to be. "This would happen to be, uh... my place." Embarrassment played across his features as he glanced around the cabin. Months of hard work, and this was all he had to show for it? Dorian knew he had a long way to go as far as his property was concerned, but he had never had a visitor to slap him in the face with that realization.

He shoved the quilt towards her, a patchwork thing that his mother had put together years ago. The wizard was more amateurish in his movements than a newborn foal. "Take this; that blanket is worthless this time of year."

 

[Andromeda Fiorelli]

She should have been humble, should have been weary and quiet perhaps but Andromeda was slowly seething inside. Her body, face and hands were covered in blood what would this guy think and how soon would he wait before contacting the ministry? She pushed the patchwork quilt aside as she stood up glowering at him as she wrapped the blanket about her tighter. Her pale shoulders gleamed, silver roping scars laced the alabaster skin. Unmistakable scars that any self respecting werewolf would recognise in an instant. Haughty she grabbed the end of the blanket so it did not trip her up, she was still slightly wobbly on her legs and her head felt like cotton wool filled it but if he had already informed the ministry that a stray naked woman covered in blood was here then she had to leave, had to get out of here. There was only one person she could go too, one person that she could trust and she had to get to Danielle Zhefarovich fast.

"You live here?" she looked about incredulously, sheer disbelief that anyone could or would want to live in this hovel evident on her face, "do you live alone?"
It felt a necessary thing to ask, if there were others she needed to know who and what she was up against. Though as she looked at the man again from head to toe she could not seriously picture him being in any way difficult to overpower. Boxers? she wanted to roll her eyes but just about managed to stop herself. It wouldn't kill him to wash once in a while though, the smell was disgusting here but it took her another minute to recall the most evident stench was from herself. The dried blood matted into her skin, it would take some serious cleaning spell to shift it. Her hand went to her side, suddenly recalling her nakedness and lack of a wand. How was she supposed to do anything without her wands? What if they had been found, surely they could track them down to her?

Desperation filled her.
"I need to wash up, do you have a ... trough or an outhouse, a pond, any where with some water" she was being sarcastic and rude, indicating with each word as if she very much doubted that there was any where here at all that was suitable for cleaning considering the man before her. Why she did not back down was another story, why she thought this man was a breeze, a pushover a bigger mystery but the knowledge that she had cursed one man and killed another goaded her along, giving her a terrible mixture of grief and power, "you know what water is don't you?"

 

[Dorian De Luca]

Nodding to each of her inquiries, Dorian managed to conceal the shame in his face. He had glimpsed her scars. They were familiar, but he kept his mouth shut. The wizard could be very, very mistaken; he didn't want to chase this girl off because she found out what he was. She wouldn't be doing herself any favors by taking off into the woods at this time of evening. The nameless redhead was in some kind of trouble, and Dorian could at least attempt to help her worm of it.

The man jabbed his thumb behind him. "There's a washroom back there," he informed her, narrowing his eyes.

Of course I know what water is, and you need it. You smell like a stuck pig. Dorian resisted temptation and reigned in his comments. They would do him no good out in the open. "I can fix you a hot shower if you like." The man scratched the stubble on his face, waiting for a response. Perhaps a shower would improve her mood.

Dorian seriously doubted that.

 

[Andromeda Fiorelli]

Turning to regard him a moment silently fuming that she had to depend on a perfect stranger, Andromeda nodded her head.
"You've a shower?" she hadn't meant to blurt it out like that but she was on edge, panicking beneath the surface while looking destructively beautiful on top. All she wondered in that brief moment was why the guy didn't use one if he had one.
"Will I be using all your hot water?" it was on the tip of her tongue to tell him he could use it first but this was one time she was going to go with the age old tradition of women and children first. She stank, hummed something awful and she wanted out of her own skin badly.

Her features creased a little as she looked to the blanket that wrapped about her slender form,
she knew she looked a sight. Her hair had clumps of blood and she could see from her peripheral vision a sliver of flesh knotted into the tendrils. Eyes widening she reached up and
hastily tried to pull it out. Absolute panic written all over her now, had he seen that? For reasons beyond her control she wanted to squeal like a typical girl and drop the disgusting piece of dead man's flesh to the ground but didn't dare until Dorian was out of the room. She would toss it out the window or something then. Andromeda looked to the windows amazed that there was even glass in them.
"Clothes" she said turning then to look at him again, he was a ton of sizes too big for her but she could not be picky now, "to change into ... I'll need clothes."

 

[Dorian De Luca]

Dorian stared at the woman and rolled his eyes. "What do you think I am, a muggle?" he remarked, "Of course you're not going to use all of the hot water." The man wasn't tied down by silly things like water heaters. Magic was too convenient to pass up on. It then registered to him that she might be a muggle, and had no idea what on earth he was talking about. He looked at her apprehensively. If she were non-magical, he would want to get rid of her quickly. Dorian shifted uncomfortably. He didn't like dealing with the Ministry. He would have to turn her over to the Obliviators and to make matters worse, he would probably be holed up in a room for hours, answering some pushy bugger's round of ten thousand questions. The werewolf bit his lip in disgust.

"Clothes... crikey," he murmured, shaking his head. Nothing he had would fit her. With a few modifications, his clothes would have to do. He didn't bother asking why she didn't have her own outfit, though there was no denying that he was curious. "I'll figure out something."

 

[Andromeda Fiorelli]

She rolled her eyes at his quip turning her face to look at him, not realising how livid her face looked caked in dried blood with her wild deep red hair swimming about her and her amber eyes flashing maddeningly at him.
"Oh so the dirty appearance is just to fend off any burglars or passing muggles is it?" she cannot keep the sassy tone from her voice and wants only to slam her foot down and tell him to hurry it up. Knowing that she feels more like a Slytherin in that moment than a Gryffindor. Godric knew she certainly hadn't behaved like a Gryffindor the night before. The memories threaten her again and she reached out a hand instantly to grip the table. Her knuckles whitening from the effort of steadying herself.

"Transfigure something of your own I don't care, just ..." her eyes calmed, her demeanour changed for the briefest minute as she turned her gaze on him once more, "please I need to wash now." The latter part of her sentence had not been said in the same haughty tone she had used since she awoke but the voice of the girl that had been well loved and respected once upon a long long time ago.

 

[Dorian De Luca]

Dorian was tempted to end their happy little meeting right then and there. He didn't need a guest, especially not one with such a set of teeth. Picking her up, flipping her around, and punting her behind out the door would be easy. The ***** could fend for her own litter. Perhaps the dog-catchers would snatch her? Dorian couldn't say that he'd feel very sorry for the woman, and besides, she could use a muzzle.

Be a gentleman, Dorian. This dog wouldn't know what a lady was if the lady smacked her in the face with a handbag.

The Australian nodded at the woman, not saying anything, and started towards the washroom. He hoped when she came out of it that she didn't smell like she'd lived in a slaughterhouse. The man started towards the washroom, flicking his wrist at the ceiling.

A chandelier that had seen better days was lit in moments. There wasn't much to speak of. The room was small even considering the residence it was in. Cloudy tiles patterned the floor, cracked in many places. They hadn't been scoured since their previous owner had called this shack home. In the far right corner was something that resembled a tub. It was old, held together by planks and nails. A showerhead that looked like it hadn't been used in decades jutted stiffly out of the wall. There was no curtain- the bachelor had chucked the old one and never bothered to replace it. The tub was boarded down with a drain in its center. Although a real plumbing system hadn't worked here in years, the water would still course through the pipe that dumped outside. The toilet bowl and basin were peppered with dust and dead bugs.

Dorian dug through a creaky cabinet. Digging out a sad towel, a limp rag, and a bar of soap, he tossed them at the woman. "The loo's outside if you need to use it," he told her, "And I'll sort out something for you to wear while you wash up. That sound good to you?"

He tapped the showerhead three times with his wand. The thing sputtered and convulsed for a moment, then released a steady stream of perfect water. This was the type of shower that one could stand in all day and become a human prune. With a swish-and-flick, Dorian cracked a dirty window. He didn't need more mold consuming the place.

 

[Andromeda Fiorelli]

Andromeda stood watching the man trying to keep whatever dignity had not eeked its way from her and crumbled with the dust on the floor. Her bare feet lifted one at a time occasionally as if afraid of what they would pick up here. The place was not a bachelor pad but a dog house. She followed him to the other room and groaned inwardly at the condition of the place. Surely he knew a flick of his wand could clean this all up? Looking aghast at him and completely bewildered when he mentioned the out house, Andromeda was speechless. She had heard her grandmother talk of the days when the plumbing was all out doors, the small outhouses but that was another era altogether but someone had obviously not informed Dorian that this was the case. She bit back anything else she might have said looking at the towel he gave her and the soap.

The towel would not go around her body properly she knew that much, it was more a hand towel than anything but she would make do. Her Gryffindor pride caused her to push whatever tears pricked her eyes, she had to remember she was not the victim here. The victim was the young man whose life she had torn apart and the other that she had cursed. She had no more room in her life to feel sorry for herself, she had turned into the beast she had always been haunted by and now she would have to live with the consequences.
"Thanks" she muttered waiting for him to leave so she could get on with the shower. The most he did however was to open a filthy window and again she felt the stir of her pride overwhelm her.
"Are you staying to help wash me?"

 

[Dorian De Luca]

A smirk split Dorian's face. He'd been living alone for quite a long time, and he was a male. "Only if you're offering, darl," he chuckled, dragging an itchy foot across the tile. Crunch. He wrinkled his nose and kicked the bug skeleton to the side. The man really did need to clean up this place, but he was going to be damned if he did it just because his guest was uncomfortable. Dorian moved towards the door, turning in afterthought. "I'd keep your mouth closed if I were you, darl. I'm not too happy with the brand of spiders here; they're not very tasty." Glancing at the webs hanging overhead, Dorian grinned and left. Picking out clothes that the resident nudist wouldn't find disgusting would be an ordeal.

 

[Andromeda Fiorelli]

She regretted the words as soon as they had left her mouth, she knew she had to be careful. He was after all a wizard with a wand living miles away from civilisation for whatever reason he had for doing so, she was a wandless witch with nothing more than a blanket to protect her. That was not going to be of any help if he chose to get physical with her.
"Of course I wasn't" she retorted clutching the blanket closer to her form as she lowered her gaze to where the crunching noise came from. She was not afraid of spiders usually but even that sound had caused a nauseous feeling in the pit of her stomach. It sounded like a distinctly milder version of the crunching of her fangs breaking through human bone. His parting words caused her to gulp anything else she had wanted to say back down. There was a strange sense of familiarity about him but she couldn't fathom what it was, she shook her head slightly to rid that idea from the start not wanting it to grow out of proportion, there was nothing familiar to her about him and if she had her way, would be out of here shortly.

The water was perfect, her skin felt revived and refreshed as she stood beneath the onslaught of the spray. With the water pouring over her she gave herself up finally to the tears that had threatened, promising herself that this would be the last time she would give into them. Her entire body shook from the sobs as she watched the blood wash from her and swirl down the drain. Someone's life seeping away because of her. It took her another moment to finish up and turn the water off. Stepping from the shower she looked about for the flimsy towel and sighed again. With one hand she used it to dry herself down, patting the now clean skin until it buffeted. Still she felt she could smell the blood on her but that was ludicrous. Wrapping the towel about her as effectively as she could, a slit revealing the tender flesh of her side and the long legs that had been envied by many.

With a hand she wiped the condensation from the mirror and stood there looking at herself. Running her fingers through her hair in lieu of a brush she detangled it as much as possible before slicking it back from her face to allow it to fall down her back. Inhaling deeply she opened the door of the bathroom and timidly walked out to see if he had managed to find any clothing for her. Her hands firmly clasping the towel to herself in case it slipped open at the least opportune moment.

 

[Dorian De Luca]

Pawing through drawers and tearing through boxes, Dorian tossed articles of clothing behind him. The floor was layered with clean clothes. He looked very much like a dog digging a hole in the backyard; at least he wasn't flinging dirt clods all over the place. After some time, he picked out a gray t-shirt, a pair of boxers, and black jeans. He shrank the three to a smaller size. Perhaps they were too small? Dorian shrugged, deciding not to worry about it. Being a little uncomfortable had to be better than running around starkers; he could only imagine the draft.

The woman was already out of the shower when he stepped out of his room. He looked away as he handed her the clothes, more out of respect than necessity. Dorian had already gotten the full view and he didn't need it again- though she must look a bit of all right with all that blood scrubbed away. He chose right then and there not to ask what she had done and how she had gotten here. The man had a feeling that he didn't want to know.

 

[Andromeda Fiorelli]

She felt much better since the shower, cleaner at any rate. Not guilt free by a long shot, her conscience pricked her with abandon and she found herself torn between chastising herself for the actions she had committed against those men and feeling satisfied at a job well done. The deatheater in her that was being highly trained would surely be reveling in their demise, but the Gryffindor who believed in truth and honour would not. He came out with some clothing for her and she was grateful he did not look at least. Taking them she didn't offer up a thank you but seriously didn't think this man wanted one.

She moved aside and allowing the towel to drop she dragged on first the boxer shorts before pulling the ti-shirt on over her head. It was a little snug nestling over her ample chest like a second skin. The boxers and the jeans however remained a little loose so that they hung from her hips instead of her waist. No matter, they would most certainly suffice. Once dressed she picked up the towel again and shaking it out realised she had not introduced herself.

As she patted her hair dry with the towel she spoke.
"I am Andromeda" there was no lack of confidence in her voice, no humble effort made though she was indebted to him, "do many come this way?"

 

[Dorian De Luca]

Andromeda. That's a pretty name. Of course, Dorian didn't tell her that; he just decided to go down another avenue. "Huh, did your parents name you after the constellation," he inquired, "or did they know you were going to be a damsel in distress somewhere down the road?" He grinned, trying not to show how much he appreciated her appearance.

Dorian said that he preferred to live alone and be away from people, but he really did miss having company. She was lucky he made a routine out of drinking his Wolfsbane. The werewolf had never killed anyone- though he'd come close plenty of times- and he didn't want there to be a first time.

He shook his head at Andromeda and extended his arms, looking as if he wanted to embrace the entire place. "I'd tidy up the pigpen a bit if they did," he remarked.

 

[Andromeda Fiorelli]

His words caused her to immediately think about her father as she squeezed the towel in her hands and looked down at it. Her still wet hair tumbled over her shoulder half masking the pale but beautiful face. He had adored astronomy and had always made sure that he taught her everything he knew.
"I was named after the galaxy Andromeda actually" a constellation was not big enough for her or so her father had often said, she could not help the smile that flickered for a moment on her face before he began to speak again. When he opened his arms wide however she misinterpreted the action and was instantly taking a step backward but in a defensive stance her hand up as if wand at the ready. Instantly berating herself for such a stupid action, especially for losing both her wands Andromeda took another weary step back.
"It's not so bad" she tried to be some bit polite but who was she kidding, the place was awful, "And you live here... alone?"

 

[Dorian De Luca]

"Ah, the galaxy. Well, at least they didn't name you Perseus," Dorian joked. For as much as he hated the moon, he loved Astronomy. Earth was insignificant and dull when compared to the rest of the universe. The man still couldn't wrap around his head that he was pretty much a speck, living on a speck, in a galaxy that was probably just a speck to the rest of it all. Astronomy was truly a fascinating subject, and the fact that he could study it all on his lonesome was a plus.

Dorian frowned at Andromeda. He hadn't meant to put her on the defensive. Sighing, he smiled at her lightheartedly. "No, it's not bad at all," he snorted, "The spiders say they find it quite comfortable here." He laughed. "Other than the bugs, I'm the only one here." I'm trying to fix it up, I promise.

 

[Andromeda Fiorelli]

She glanced at him in surprise then, she had never judged a book by its cover before and yet from the moment she had awoken to see him, that was all she had done to him. Perceived him to be nothing more than a collassol layabout. He knew her most favourite of all the Greek myths and again she could not help the smile that came naturally to her. It was small and shy like but still there none the less.
"At least Perseus was a hero, not a pathetic damsel in distress" Andromeda from the famous story had gotten into the worse kind of trouble because of her looks but Andy knew herself that it wasn't her looks that had gotten her into the mess she was in now. Though they had many times in the past.

Regarding him again she noticed the sigh and blinked at the knot that formed in her when he smiled. This was no time to feel attracted to anyone so she tilted her chin as if taking in the place again, thinking all the time. She needed somewhere to hide out even for just a little while until she figured things out and got word to Danielle. He was the only one here, excluding the bugs of course but those she could probably live in harmony with compared to Dorian.
"I can't go back!" she said suddenly looking at him now directly, "I need somewhere to stay just for a short while. I won't be any trouble ... much."
Would he demand to know what she was running from, what she couldn't go back too? Would he question her about the blood and why she had shown up at his home as she had? She wondered he hadn't already and regarding him now waited.

 

[Dorian De Luca]

Grinning, Dorian scratched his neck. It was a godsend that he didn't have lice. "Well, I'd be a bit worried if someone who looked like you was named Perseus and wanted to stay the night," he laughed. The man shifted on his feet, thinking about her request. He'd already decided not to turn her out. This meant he'd have to run to Obsidian for groceries, but that had to be done anyway. "Your choice; I can't promise my cooking is better than my cleaning, though."

 

[Andromeda Fiorelli]

She liked instantly that he did not question her, that he just cracked another lame pun before mentioning how bad his cooking was. If that was a ploy to get her to cook for him he certainly had another thing coming to him, that was for sure. Andromeda could cook, her muggle grandmother had made sure of that from an early age and add that to her magical abilities she was a downright whiz when it came to cooking or baking. True she was lame at transfiguring bad food into good but she had never needed to rely on it anyhow.

After letting the Perseus comment go with nothing more than a half smile, Andromeda had felt a knot in her stomach when he laughed. She blamed the gnawing of human flesh and her obvious hunger now for it however.
"Can't be any worse than mine" she chimed in, seriously not wanting to spend any time here cooking or cleaning for the guy. He was a wizard after all, the least he could do was wave a wand about the place.