I am so sorry for not being active for the handful of months. The school computer that I use to write the stories was taken over the summer. But, now that I have it back, I could get back to writing!
Some readers may find some sentences offending. You have been forwarned.
It was a weird feeling to learn about yourself. It was different than learning about race. When you learn about other people's ethnicities you learn their ways of life and their background in their native culture, you learn acceptance. They never mention the best ways to kill them. It was like the ultimate How to Commit Murder chapter for a vampire. Baz speed over the words in his book. His vision blurred and sharpened with pain when he would focus on a sentence too hard when he pretended to read. At the end of class, they were all given cross necklaces similar to the ones Simon use to wear. When the teacher placed the cold metal in his hand, it began to itch under his skin. Looming around the corner Baz zipped his bag open and threw it into the corner pocket he never opened.
Even when he left the class kids buzzed around talking about the best way to behead a vampire or if the stake to the heart would be better than a wand. It was the first time the students learned or even read about something more intriguing than defensive theories. Baz rushed into the nearest bathroom to conceal himself from all the chaos from the outside world. Leaning his head to the cold metal door Baz closed his eyes to enjoy the silence from the empty stalls. There was a faint dripping sound from the outdated plumbing that bulged out of the walls like veins.
Walking to the nearest sink, Baz turned the faucet on and started to splash the cool crisp water onto his face. Looking at himself in the mirror he whispered to himself, "You are not a monster." When nothing answered back he sighed and threw more water. Baz almost forgot how much it hurt to hide the secret, and the more he thought about that, the more he missed Simon and the others.
It wasn't until when Baz reached for a paper towel did he feel the light burn on his hand. Turning to the light he saw the reddish-pink skin irritating his palm. It wasn't too bad, the cross was barely noticeable as a shape. The irritation would soon fade with some over the counter medicine. But for now, a band-aid would have to subsidize. Pulling the cover over his hand Baz ventured out to his next class.
Baz never cared much for his classes. Transfiguration and charms were a headache, potions and magical history was a snooze fest, and dark arts was a little awkward to sit through. But, he never thought that Care for Magical Creatures would be a problem as well.
Walking to the hut Hagrid stood by a table with a white sheet over. As the kids gathered around the table whispers and glances soon grew more intense as Hagrid staired empathy at the table.
"Welcome to class everyone. Today we will not be going over our chapter on Griffins but instead, we will shift to a new subject that the ministry wants all classes to shift to for the time being." His voice was distant and was no more than a loud whisper. Lifting the white sheet lay a dead body of a man no older than 20. His blond hair stook sickly to his forehead, and his skin was drained of all life and color. He was in a green hospital like clothing that covered the bloodstains across his body. Baz's head began to feel heavy and clouded by the heavy amount of blood.
"Today we will be going over how to identify a vampire. This is a vampire killed by the Ministry after a raid some months ago. They have preserved them for later studies." Hagrid's glassy eyes scanned the room. The students grew hesitant and scared of the body in front, as if it would jump from the tables and yell, "Boo!"
"It's-it's a vampire, right? A monster?" A Gryffindor girl Baz never knew the name of asked.
"Yes, it was, before the raid. But it can not harm you now."
The kids grew relaxed and started to become curious about the dissection.
"Will we see the fangs?"
"How did it die?"
The questions began to blur into white loud noise in his head. He bit off more than he could chew, he thought he could handle this but he couldn't. Why did this bother him so much? Doctors and other medical positions dissected the dead every day. Why did he say yes to this stupid mission? Did these wizards even deserve to be saved? Even from the back of the corner of the room where he drifted to he could smell the heavy hint of iron in the man's blood, could smell the sweat from the bodies in the room, could smell the drenching of the chemicals used to keep the man together. The white noise of everyone's voice and the sound was intensified until it was nothing but a scream, a scream that deafened him to hear nothing. All the sents and screeching sounds collided together like a tsunami of senses. And it all hurt.
Then a hand was placed on his shoulder. Jumping away he saw Hagrid's hairy beard in front of him. "Mr. Pitch, Dumbledore would like to see you."
"What?"
"Yes, would you need help getting the things you dropped." This time Hagrid placed both heavy hands on his shoulder.
"My things-" looking down Baz saw his books and papers that he was holding a second ago on the ground scattered around. "Oh"
"I'll help." Harry bent down and gathered his things and so did Ron and Hermione. After they got everything together they placed them all back in his bag. Hagrid helped escort him out of the back and towards the school.
"Why does Dumbledore need me?"
"He doesn't. Saw you in there shut off, thought you need some air and space. You don't have to come back, got ya a slip to excuse you out of the rest of the day."
Handing him the slip a "thanks" was all Baz could utter out before he turned to go to the bathroom, where he went to throw up.
Bending down to gather the papers for Baz she saw something suspicious. Slipping it carefully into her rodes for safekeeping, she pulls it out now with a pass from Hagrid's class in her pocket. She told him she couldn't handle the dissection and asked to be excused. The map of the forbidden forest lay in front of her. X's and circles scattered across the page along with notes of locations. One section, in particular, caught her eye, in scratchy writing it said, "Never go here again. Angry spiders." There were drawings of spiders near it, all with angry faces. This corner was painted with red dots of blood around it. Other notes read "Wear better clothing, razor-sharp trees," said "dead zone" or "suspected." But, whatever these were for, they belonged to Baz. All the notes were written in his handwriting.
Walking down the hall she stopped short when she saw Baz emerge from the bathroom. He looked sick and frustrated as he ruffled through his bag. Thrusting his hand blindly into his bag's pockets he hissed with recoiling reaction, pulling out a thin cross given from the class before. Holding it as if it was a hot potato he threw it down to the ground with annoyance. That's all she needed for her prof.
Once he turned the corner and was out of sight Hermione rushed to the ground to pick it up. Looking between the cross and the map she knew the vampire was here for a reason. Not knowing what he was in the school for made him more dangerous and unpredictable. But, with the other vampires getting closer to the school every day it probably an accident he is here now. She knew the truth now as to what he was, and now she will do everything in her power to end him to save the ones she loved.