Ink and Parchment ~ blood and bone

61

“And just where did you end up last night?” Draco drawled as Eliza sneaked back into the common room the next day. He was sprawled out on the sofa, a cup of tea on the table, piles of books around him and a few empty phials of pepper-up potion.

The picture of a man who had just pulled an all-nighter for a last minute transfiguration essay.

“I stayed over at Tom’s” Eliza replied promptly ignoring Draco’s salacious look as he shot up from his spot “Nothing happened before you start”

“Nothing?” he echoed somewhat disappointedly and Eliza truly couldn’t pass up on such a perfect opportunity.

“Well I met Death and officially became its master but other than that-

“I’m sorry, what?”

Eliza waved a blasé hand shrugging her shoulders “It’s not that important – I’ll tell you all later”

“I – what – I’m” Draco spluttered and Eliza valiantly smothered her laughter “Hey don’t you dare walk away from me young lady”

Despite his protests Eliza did in fact continue to walk away from him. She was still quite tired after last night, she’d have a nap now and use the time-turner to attend her skipped lessons and everyone would be none the wiser. She might even try and fit in a visit to Jormy, that would be nice.

~

It was not nice.

“You and master have finally made a home nest” Jormy said with false wisdom the second Eliza arrived to visit the old basilisk. Eliza spluttered, not liking the implications of that at all and rounded on Jormy demanding an explanation.

“You smell of master – is there not a home nest?” the basilisk questioned evidently confused and Eliza slumped against his giant head. Jormy, evidently not understanding that her despair stemmed from his blatant confusion, attempted to comfort her bringing his tail round to wrap her in a sort of basilisk-cocoon.

“No there is no home-nest Jormy” Eliza hissed back despairing over the fact that she was even having to have this conversation.

“But then where will the hatchlings stay?”

Eliza didn’t know whether to laugh or scream.

She left the chamber sometime later, back slightly stiff from sitting on the cold stone for so long. She promised to visit Jormy sometime later that week and set off to find her court who would no doubt be waiting for explanations. Not that Eliza had much of any.

Master of Death.

It was a fancy title, one which she had no idea what was actually entailed within it. For all that Death had pulled her into their realm they seemed to have not communicated anything of actual substance. Just terrified her and left her with vague cryptic comments and haunting nightmares.

Her sleep today had been anything but dreamless and Eliza had woken up finding herself longing for the blissful blankness and Tom’s warm bed that she’d been granted with last night. Unlike now where she managed a few fitful hours dreaming of rotten corpses, of Death’s swallow face and haunting eyes and enjoy your run.

She guessed judging by her greater connection to Samhain her necromancy abilities were somewhat amplified. She could probably use the Deathly Hollows without any real consequence (the resurrection stone warmed slightly on her finger) but beyond that she truly didn’t have a clue.

I am inevitable, but not for you.

She didn’t want to think about that particular part of the conversation, not liking how her lungs tightened at the thought. She wasn’t like Tom, all she had ever wanted was to live – not to live forever.