Mistress of Death Amongst Immortals

Is That a Horcrux?

Is That a Horcrux?

Jonas Martin and his son Luke sit inside The Grill in a booth in the back corner facing the bar observing the people of this small town. They kept their eyes on a group sitting at the bar. Using magic to be able to hear their conversation over the music and other patrons, "Should you be grading papers at the bar?" Damon asked his new drinking buddy. Alaric huffs, "I get through it if I have a buzz. Hello Hermione, Fenrir, and Mason. How are you tonight?" "Doing good, Ric." Fenrir gave a short answer, the werewolf becoming more comfortable around people.

The Martins have been in town for a week and so far, they have learned very little about Leilani Evans and her family. What they have learned is that most of the family keeps to themselves, only interacting with the general public if they have to and mostly staying within their little group. Jonas has tried to approach any one of them when he spots them outside of their home but has had no luck in striking up a conversation. Upon further research, the Martins found no records of a 'Leilani Evans' dated before late August-early September 2009. So, here they are, trying to listen in to their conservation to learn as much as possible and report back to The Noble Original.

Hermione sat at the bar next to her husband and Mason with Ric on the other side of Fenrir. Damon had taken a seat on the other side of Ric, teasing his friend about grading papers while drunk. Since she had sat down at the bar, Hermione had felt an unwelcome and familiar feeling. She leans forward to look down the bar towards Damon when the feeling gets stronger. Hermione kept looking back and forth between everyone sitting at the bar when she was finally able to zero in on the feeling. It's coming from Alaric's ring.

"Alaric?" Hermione gained the part-time vampire hunter's attention. "I'm curious about your ring? Is there a story behind it?" Alaric shares a knowing look with Damon, who gives a subtle nod saying 'it's okay' to tell. Ric sighs, "My late wife gave it to me. I wasn't sure why until this one (Ric points to Damon) killed me, but I didn't stay dead." Hermione's eyes widened when she realized why the feeling she got from the ring felt vaguely familiar, it felt like a Horcrux.

Hermione cleared the heavy lump in her throat, "Would you mind if myself and Bill examine it? You don't have to take it off or anything." She watches Ric move his hands under the bar trying to hide the ring. Hermione continues to explain, "It's just that ring gives off almost the same feeling as a Horcrux." At the last word, Damon's head turns so quickly you would think his neck snapped, "Excuse me?" Hermione nods, "I'm not entirely sure but it feels very similar to the locket Lei and I spent months wearing before we were able to destroy it."

Ric starts to gather his belongings to leave the bar. Both Damon and Hermione step in front of him. Damon holds his hands up in surrender, "Maybe just have them look at it. You don't even have to take it off." Ric shakes his head, "This ring is the only thing that kept me from dying permanently." "And I understand that. We just want to make sure it is not causing you any harm," Hermione tries to reassure Ric.

Seeing that they are not going to give up, Ric agrees to let Hermione and Bill examine the ring while he keeps it on his finger. So, Ric followed Damon to the Evans' household later that evening to determine if his ring was a danger to himself and others. He became even more concerned when he remembered Jeremy had worn one of the Gilbert rings at one point. The Martins left the Grill shortly after them to report their findings to Elijah.

While Hermione, Fenrir, and Mason were at The Grill, Lei was dealing with the Sheriff and John Gilbert. John had gone to the council and explained what Elena had told him. So now, the Sheriff and John stood at the door of the Evans' home trying to get inside. "Miss Evans, we are here on official police business. Can you please step aside and let us in?" Sheriff Forbes demanded. "Why? What is it that you're looking for? And if it's police business like you say, what is he doing here?" Lei pointed to John. "I'm a respected member of the community," John puffed up his chest. "Oh okay. If that's the case, come back with your deputies and a warrant, and leave the pompous prick at home. Good evening, Sheriff. Dickhead," Lei slams the door in their faces.