Vamps

News and New Faces

Evan Rosier returned to Hogwarts two days later with a new scarlet red scar that decorated his neck and chest like bloody flowers.

He was quieter than usual, his typically cheery and energetic voice replaced by one that creaked and scraped with every word.

Regulus had only known Evan for a little over two weeks, but already it was hard for him to deal with the newfound quiet of their dynamic.

Mirabella's friends had also not returned, Luca and Lydia she'd informed him one day, nor did she seem to know when they'd be coming back, and so the little first year girl had seemingly cemented herself at their lunch table until further notice.

Nobody complained about her though, Regulus wasn't sure it was possible to not like the girl, her smile and fiery attitude about nearly everything enough to make even the coldest of hearts consider melting for a moment.

The air in the computer lab was almost stifling in the late summer heat, regardless of the fact that the room itself was freezing. Vamps kept to their little groups for the most part, the occasional non-vamps having slowly disappeared from the room over the course of the last week or so.

Regulus wasn't sure what to make of that, but by the sudden scarcity of laughs in their little sanctuary, he guessed that many of them hadn't turned out to be as progressive as they'd originally claimed to be.

Funny how that worked.

Friday morning literature was one of the longest feeling classes that Regulus had ever attended, and his struggle was clearly noticed as McGonnagal sent him on a mission to the office to retrieve some extra paper, knowing eyes looking straight through him.

He knew he didn't look fantastic, certainly not up to the Black family standard, but heavy bags hung from his eyes, dark enough that the makeup he'd tried to apply had merely made it look worse, (more like a vampire though he hated himself for thinking that).

The heels of his boots clacked down the linoleum of the hallways as he passed classroom after classroom of people largely unaware of the horrors that could be unleashed upon their classmates within the next few hours.

Regulus had tried to think logistically instead of emotionally about what the new law would mean for him if it were to pass. 75% of his normal dosage would likely present minor symptoms according to his research, the hunger of course, it would be a perpetual ghost on all of their shoulders, but also irritability, and potentially some fang malfunction. All things that with a little bit of willpower Regulus was convinced he could deal with if he really really needed to.

The real issue would occur if the dosage continued to go down, then the real carnage would ensue. For most of recorded vampiric history they'd subsisted the old fashioned way, crudely and commonly referred to as the "FTN" or "Fang to neck" era. It wasn't until the last hundred and fifty years or so that the transfusions had been tested, been cleared, and become the only option, so while none of that generation was alive anymore at least as far as Regulus was aware, it wouldn't take long to see its return.

Regulus felt guilty for even thinking it but he wasn't sure he could even blame those who went back to their roots.

He'd very rarely experienced the kind of hunger that drove one to FTN, but all accounts of it described it as all consuming and mind numbingly horrific. Hell, Regulus wasn't even certain that if he himself got hungry enough he wouldn't turn on someone.

He'd feel horrifically guilty about it for the rest of his life of course, but it was simply a fact.

And Regulus just needed to look at the facts.