The Midnight Watch

Two weeks later...

-

Nadia gasped for air when she awoke. An ironic habit, since she no longer breathed like humans. She was strigoi--vampire.

She left the curtained warmth of her bed and waved a hand to light the candles that floated around the stone chamber. Although she could see in the dark, Nadia preferred light in all things. That trait earned her numerous detentions at Durmstrang.

You are to here to learn Dark Arts, not defend against them!

When it came to her "subversion of lesson plans," Professor Grecoff lived hacked off, as Charlie Weasley would say, for five long years until Dark Arts were no longer a mandatory part of her curriculum. Rumour had it he toasted her absence with a bottle of vodka. Nadia smiled. She and her friend Elie had celebrated too, with triangles of baklava smuggled up from the kitchen.

At the foot of her bed, she ran a hand over the intricate floral pattern carved onto a chest once meant to hold a dowry. Now it held mementos of the past. She considered opening the lid to find pictures of her schooldays and then dismissed the urge. This was a night to live in the present.

Behind the carved and painted wooden screen that partitioned her tub and dressing area, Nadia got ready for the evening. The bath, while not necessary for hygiene, was relaxing.

She opened a secret panel in the wall and stepped into the cellar. A movable wine rack slid back into place, concealing her place of rest. She chose a bottle of brandy and went upstairs. In the kitchen, the heat of the fire intensified the fragrance of the herbs and peppers that dangled from the ceiling. Nadia found her daylight guardian reading a paper in a chair beside the hearth. His pointed ears twitched.

"Good evening, Costi," she said.

"Buna seara," he replied absently. A second later, he jumped to his feet. "Doamna Nadia!"

After years of requests to use her first name without "mistress" attached, she had given up all but the occasional invitation. Costi was young for a house-elf, yet hide-bound when it came to tradition. His parents had revered her grandmother as their Doamna, and he was determined to follow their example.

She set the bottle on the low table carved in the shape of a sunburst and sat in one of the chairs Costi had fashioned from a tree trunk, using arched branches for arms and legs. "Do I smell mamaliga?" Polenta and cream was one of the elf's favourite dishes. Hers, too, once upon a time: these days she could only savour the aroma.

"Da." He pointed to the newspapers on the table. Muggle editions of Romania Libera and Adevarul piled atop the wizard Profet Curent and the English Daily Prophet. "Many things has happened." He shared the articles of interest.

She listened closely. It was important to know how Muggle and wizarding Ministries were affecting the outside world. She had chosen a life of seclusion, not insularism.

"You believe Iliescu will remain Preşedintele?" she asked.

"Da. The state controls the media." He tapped the Daily Prophet with a knobbly finger. "Wizard Ministries are no different," he said grimly.

Nadia tried to brighten her friend's mood. "At least wizard papers have Fiendishly Difficult Crosswords."

"True." A twinkle appeared in round green eyes. "Name a breed of flying horse that begins with "A."

"Abraxan."

"Nu. Eight letters," he said.

She remembered another name from a bestiary tome. "Aethonon."

Costi finished the crossword and ended their talk--not with the usual overheard village gossip, but by removing a letter from the pocket of his sheep's wool vest. "This came by owl today."

She broke the wax seal and read:

The dragons must do without you for one night, scumpa mea. Word of my reclusive "child" piqued Luchian's interest, and so I am to present you at the midwinter Gathering.

Abia aştept să te văd

He couldn't wait to see her. Nadia clenched her teeth. She wasn't his "sweet" and would have lived content for eternity not to see Alexandru Brancovan again.

She tossed the letter to Costi. "What do you think?"

His eyes flickered over parchment. "You should have answered one or two of Brancovan's letters over the years."

"I read them. That was more than he deserved."

Costi shrugged. "He was aristocracy when Bucharest was petit-Paris. His kind expects deference and obedience. If you do not go--"

"I will attend the Gathering," she said. "But only this once. Father will have to find other ways to gain notice from Council members." Nadia took the self-inking quill Costi conjured and wrote a short reply. He would seal and send it for her. She rose to her feet.

"Before Christmas, you never wore a cloak," Costi said as she took the garment off a peg by the door.

"Before Christmas I didn't have a friend who worries I will be cold."

Costi's expression was such that if he had eyebrows, one of them would have raised. "Do you plan to keep him warm with tsuica?"

Nadia glanced down at the bottle of brandy in her hand. "To me, this is decoration. If I cannot drink it, why should I not share?" She turned it upside down and watched the apple bob. "Charlie could not picture farmers hanging bottles for fruit to grow inside, so I said when the trees bud I will take him to see for himself." She saw Costi's mouth open and left to avoid uncomfortable questions. Nadia did not know if her keeper friend would still desire to meet with her when the seasons changed. She hoped he would.

She Apparated to the Centre and checked the daily log. Aside from a single entry that mentioned something out of the ordinary, daily patrols had been uneventful and the temperature of the Warming Sands remained stable. Her eyes returned to the entry that caught her attention.

On morning patrol, I spotted a Longhorn scale on a ridge just above the tree line.

The initials of the keeper were C.W. Nadia closed the book.

She exited the centre to Apparate behind Charlie's house. Through the opened curtains, she could see his room was empty. She used a Disillusionment Charm and moved closer.

That first night, she had accepted his invitation only to be given another one: if she didn't mind the conversation taking place somewhere private--his room--Charlie would welcome the chance to talk to her the next evening. Nadia had agreed to return and continued to find him waiting every night afterwards.

She feared his absence meant something was wrong.

Nadia placed her hand on the window to force it open just as Charlie entered the room. He wore a dark green towelling dressing gown and his hair was damp and mussed. She froze when he glanced toward the window.

"No kitty cat," she heard him say, as if she stood beside him. "Good. I won't have to change in the bathroom. Emil already thinks I'm loony for taking two showers in one night."

Nadia leaned forward. She could see the end of a chrome dumbbell beneath a chair. Had he lifted weights to need the second shower?

Her gaze returned to Charlie. He was hanging his robe on a hook inside the wardrobe. He had a strong, sculpted back. Nadia's eyes lowered. The rest of his body was taut and muscular, too.

She blinked when her nose touched glass.

La dracu! Damn it! If I had breath, would I fog the window?

Nadia shifted as she sprang backwards. She landed on all fours as a cat and jumped onto the windowsill. Thankfully, Charlie had pulled on trousers by the time she mewed to announce her presence.

He rushed over to open the sash. "Come in. I was--erm--dressing."

She was at eye level with his chest. It was freckled and smooth, and the cold had hardened intriguing points of his anatomy. She leapt to the floor.

Charlie crouched down to pet her. "You have the softest fur."

Instinct took over. She angled her head to rub her cheek against his hand.

He responded by scratching behind her ear, a very sensitive area. Her eyes closed.

"Wow. You can purr like a real cat."

Yes, and next she would be rubbing against his legs to mark him as hers. She shifted form. "Good evening," she said.

"Buna seara," Charlie replied with a smile.

Her eyes weren't level with his chest anymore, but they were still drawn to it.

Charlie glanced down. "I should put a shirt on." He found a rust-coloured tee in the wardrobe.

"You wear the colours of the earth," she said. "They suit you."

"It's the red hair. I have to go for what doesn't clash."

"The ends are wet," she said. In the next instant, Nadia stood in front of Charlie, running her fingers through his hair as she murmured a drying spell. The fiery strands reminded her of sunset.

"Thanks."

She could hear his heart pound; feel the heat of the slight flush that rose from his chest to his face. His lips parted slightly. She could smell mint. "I brought you tsuica cu fruct," she said, and offered the brandy.

"There's an apple inside. Cool." He upended the bottle the way she had to watch the fruit bob up and down. "What's this?" he asked, brushing the neck of the bottle with a fingertip. "Cat hair?"

"Are you implying I shed?"

He grinned. "Yes. I was having you on."

Nadia feigned a thoughtful expression. "It could be true. Perhaps we should experiment to find out. Do you have a white jumper? What colour are the sheets on your bed? I could roll around--" The vision forming in her mind halted her attempt to tease. It did not involve a cat.

"It'd be hard to explain black hairs on my pillow when it's my housemate's turn to clean," Charlie said, his mild tone a contrast to the heat in his eyes.

"Do your own laundry." The words were husky instead of joking, the way she meant them to sound.

She could hear his pulse speed up again. Nadia cast about for a distraction. "The Longhorn scale," she said. "You--did you retrieve it?"

He stared blankly at her for a couple of seconds. "Uh...no. I made a note and then continued to patrol."

"Do you remember where you saw the scale?"

Charlie rattled off a list of landmarks that were remarkably precise.

"Thank you." She turned to leave.

"I'll go with you," he said.

Nadia wanted to flee temptation, not bring it with her. "Nu. Stay out of the cold. I should find the scale easily."

He had already taken a cloak out of the wardrobe and fished a hat and gloves from the pockets. "Spells and dragon hide will keep me warm," he said. A gleam lit brown eyes. "Along with my thoughts."

She instantly remembered a Chinese proverb.

A full stomach and warm clothing leave one free for lustful thoughts.

Nadia stalked to the window. I read too much. I should take up woodcarving. "Fine," she said. "Show me." She lifted the sash and dove through the opening. When her hands hit the snowy ground, she pushed through her fingers and kicked her legs to rotate and land on her feet.

Charlie's chuckle drifted through the air. "If we're playing follow the leader, I'm out." He climbed over the sill and dropped to the ground.

"Outside? Da, you are," she said. "And you may follow me to the broom shed."

He shut the window and muttered a night vision spell. "I'd rather walk beside you."

Her insides fluttered again. Was there such a thing as undead butterflies? She gestured away from the direct route through the cottages, towards the path that would allow them to walk without need for Disillusionment Charms. "Along the edge of the forest?"

"That's why I'm wearing tall boots."

She cast spells to distribute their weight. "We will not sink into the snow."

He took a step and gave a bark of laughter. "Ace."

Nadia put a hand on Charlie's arm to remain steady as she walked beside him. She had not walked on snow since she became strigoi. It was easier to fly. "Ace is good?" she asked, although the context of the word implied that it was. She simply liked to hear his voice.

"It means great, excellent--brilliant."

She slanted a look at him. "All that in three letters?"

"Da."

They shared a smile that caused more unnervingly delightful sensations to course through Nadia's body. She glimpsed the broom shed with a mixture of frustration and relief. She said, "One of the reasons I enjoyed night watch was flying the latest model broomsticks. On day patrol, new keepers were relegated to the older ones."

"That hasn't changed," Charlie said. He countered the wards on the shed and retrieved a broom. "This is the Comet Two Sixty. I've flown it twice, and I can't begin to describe--here." He balanced the weight on his palms and held out the broomstick. "Want to fly it?"

"With you?" She shrugged with feigned carelessness. "Is probably better. I have not flown that way in a long while."

"Oh yeah." Charlie nodded earnestly. "Is probably--I mean it's probably--better. Safer." He straddled the broom and waited for her to mount behind him to push into a vertical lift.

When the broomstick shot forward, she clutched the sides of his cloak, another habit from days gone by.

"Too fast?" he called over his shoulder.

She leaned closer. "Depends. How good is your night vision?"

"Ace!"

"Then go faster!"

"All right!" He made the broomstick live up to its name as they streaked towards their destination.

At the spot he'd described above the line of evergreens, Charlie set down the broom and waited for her to dismount before doing the same. He pointed to the ground beside a pile of snow-covered rock. "It should be right there. Large, flat, teardrop-shaped, dark green: it was a Longhorn scale, I'd swear it."

"I do not doubt you." Nadia knelt to examine the ground. It looked windswept. She said, "I need an aerial view."

Charlie mounted his broom. "Hop on."

"Nu. Follow me." Nadia jumped from the ground into the air, magic catapulting her upward. She lifted her arms into an upstroke position and completed the seamless transition from launch to flight.

The Comet Two Sixty vaulted Charlie skyward at an impressive rate of speed. "I'd rather fly beside you," he said, voice amplified by Sonorous Charm.

A smile played across her lips while Nadia hovered to scan the landscape.

"What are we looking for?" Charlie was close enough to speak normally.

"Tracks," she said. "Wind did not carry the scale away."

"You think it was an animal?"

Nadia looked into eyes that shone gold in the moonlight and decided to trust. She said, "In a manner of speaking."