Do you remember me?- Simon Snow

Secrets and spells

It was December and Watford was more peaceful that ever. Most students had gone home a week ago and only a handful of teachers and students had stayed so the grounds and castle seemed almost deserted. The peace and quiet only disturbed by the shouts of curses and random spells from a lone fourth year firing mismatched curses and hexes at the stone walls in anger.

Simon Snow was fed up of being called special, it meant he was different. It meant people noticed him, people expected things he couldn't achieve. He had been woken early by Baz sneaking out the dorm room, he couldn't be bothered to stop him and rolled over and tried to drift back to sleep, unsuccessfully. Baz had woken at midnight so Simon had been awake for the past 18 hours. Baz hadn't showed up all day and Simon was glad of it. Baz had been even more irritable than usual and Simon was sick of him.

He yelled another hex spell in anger and a pale green light spiraled out his wand. Gone as quick as it had appeared. The sound of singing many floors below him reminded him what day it was and caused him to throw a few more spells in anger.

It was Christmas and all his friends had left a week ago, despite being exhausted Simon had had to endure the pain of watching all the other students who'd stayed unwrap present after present while Simon ate the sherbet newts Agatha had given him. It was his only present, at least he got more than last year.

Usually he found comfort in the fact that Baz never got any either but this year Baz had gone so Simon had nothing to smile about. He hardly ate lunch even though the Mage described to him how delicious it was. He just said he wasn't hungry. It wasn't a lie: he just felt empty, he didn't feel this way usually, he didn't feel yesterday. It was like something had disappeared between then and now but he couldn't put his finger on it. He had left lunch early and had gone as far as possible from the grand hall and had been here since.

He swore again and flicked his wand, he didn't expect the shower of yellow sparks that erupted from it, and he certainly didn't expect someone to round the corner at that exact moment. Simon didn't even have time to blink before they crumpled on the floor in front of him.

He scrambled to his feet, his hand flying to his mouth immediately.

He didn't recognize the unconscious victim as he hurried forward towards them.

In panic thought back to the spell he'd used. A transparency hex, but that was harmless to everything except....except. Simon couldn't remember what his charms teacher had told the class the year before,it was something dangerous he remembered that much. Then it hit him, transparency hexes were harmless to everything except vampires.

A shiver of dread and terror ran down Simons spine as he kept a safe distance from the dark haired boy lying a few meters away from him.

The worst part was he was in Watford robes, which meant there was a vampire within the students.

There couldn't be a vampire, surely somebody would find out. The Mage would realize, unless he already knew.

Simon came to his senses the original thoughts of panic and worry had washed over him and been replaced with a need to fix things.

He had to call the nurse but he needed a cover up.

He moved closer to the body. He couldn't identify him from a distance as he was lying on his front.

Simon prodded him to roll over and to his shock he saw Baz lying in front of him, the little color that there had been had long since drained from his face.

But Baz couldn't be a vampire, surely not. Simon thought back to the year before when they studied them, Baz had got full marks on the test yet hadn't put his hand up once, it didn't even seem like he was listening through the lesson. Other times sprang to mind like the lessons he missed on textbook curses that broke skin and others that healed blood wounds.

Stumped on what to do next, Simon considered his options: call for help, leave Baz for dead or take out his anger on his unconscious body. Simon was becoming extremely angry now as he thought about how Baz had been hiding this from him. He could have been killed in the night if Baz was on a blood hunt, Simon thought to himself selfishly.

Simon was fuming now, his anger bubbling up inside him like the cauldrons in potions. But there was a feeling somewhere inside Simon, a feeling stronger than all this anger, a feeling that Simon didn't recognise, a feeling that made Simon cry out for help for the boy who's life was slowly draining away on the floor in front of him.