After the game of Quidditch with Potter’s unfortunate accident with the dementors I could hardly focus on anything besides the Tome I had buried away in my trunk. Inside my room, I stared fixedly at the large container of my belongings. Thumping in my chest grew louder in my ears, the steady beat encasing my thoughts as time slowly ticked onward. Over the past week, the Tome had been weighing on my mind, somehow almost calling out to me as my curiosity burned. ‘Was it a warning? A test to see if I drank the potion? Some hatred for Potter? What? What do they want?’ I growled as I leapt at my trunk, delving inside past my clothes, and ingredients, before my hand felt the strange texture of leather. 

“Nalby!” I yelled, quickly my house elf appeared behind me. “Yes young master?” I bit my lip, the need to know withering my fear away as I took the book to my desk, and began writing the ingredients I didn’t have on me. Finally ripping off the parchment, and grabbing a small bag of coins I handed them both to him. “Take this, collect the ingredients I need, and come back to me as soon as you're done.” Nalby nodded immediately, before vanishing off, leaving me alone.

I sighed before looking back at the book, staring at one ingredient that I left off the list. One that I had to get myself. It was still stormy outside, but that would only help me in hiding from others I didn’t want to be seen by. I closed the Tome, and placed it in my pocket, before taking a waterproof overcoat over my clothes, taking my cauldron, and heading outside alone, leaving Val to continue to sleep. 

In the howling winds and pelting rain, I leaned against both to keep on my feet. I slowly made my way down near Hagrid’s hut, and entered into the nearby grove. The trees helped block the winds, and the leaves sheltered from the rain, and it wasn’t long before I found what I came looking for. Huddled under a large boulder for protection, I found a Thestral, waiting out the storm. It stared at me with its white empty eyes, tilting its head in confusion.

“You can understand me, right?” I asked, slowly approaching it. The Thestral nodded, before bowing its head to me. A sudden image of the Dementor doing the same thing flashed in my mind. There had to have been a connection, perhaps the same connection that required a Thestral for the potion. I gulped and slowly placed my hand under my coat, feeling the handle of a small letter opener I had. I felt sick, just having it on me, and moved my hand away to my small container of fish snacks.

I took both out, and explained while the Thestral stared intently at my dagger. “Can I have some of your blood?” I asked, presenting my supply of snacks, and bringing out a healing potion beside them. “I’ll pay you back, and make sure you're healed after I’m done.” I offered, pleading for my words to work, unable to buy blood from some source I could only assume murdered the beast for. I had to do it myself, with minimal damage.

The Thestral, already laying on the ground, bowed its head again, and glanced at its right shoulder. I gulped, and slowly approached, my hands shaking the entire time. “Okay… Is this okay?” I asked, begging for more reassurance from the white eyed creature. It exhaled gently, trusting me as it closed its eyes and leaned back to rest. My hand shivered as I brought it against its bare skin, feeling of cartilage. Finally as I held my breath, I placed both hands on the letter opener, making sure that my trembling fingers wouldn't hurt it more than need. I slowly severed the skin, and felt the Thestral wince in the pain. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry-” I continued to mumble, nay, chant my apologies as I quickly collected the black sludge-like blood in a vial I had prepared, squeezing the area around the cut to help exsanguinate the beast faster.

Quickly taking a healing potion, and dumping it on the wound, it quickly began to close up, leaving only a tiny scar, hardly noticeable. A small, but permanent reminder of the act in which I had just done. I quickly took out all of my treats, and fed them to the Thestral while petting its bony back, giving it as much thanks as possible. “Thank you so much. You did great, you get your treat, and I’ll always bring more if we meet again.” I muttered, trying to stop myself from looking at the blackened blade laid beside me, and the ink like blood on my fingertips.

The Thestral huffed and pushed its head against my hand while graciously eating all of my food, as if saying that this was enough. Truly a precious creature filled with humility, strangely connected to those that are deemed with anything but. After I was done, I collected my things, and left, yelling my thanks to it for as long as it was in my vision. 

After walking around aimlessly for a bit, looking for a calm place to work on the potion, being pelted from sudden gusts of wind or rain, I finally stumbled into to an old abandoned stable. The wooden roof was rotten, the walls much of the same, and the ground was filled with strewn bits of hay. Nalby suddenly appeared beside me as I entered inside. “I have everything young master!” He presented the list of ingredients to me, his large eyes looking at me with pride. I smiled at him, and patted his bald head before taking the items from his hands. “Thank you again Nalby. I don’t know what I would do without you.” Referencing his continuous trips to the school, delivering the fish I needed to make my treats.

“It is my greatest honor to serve my young master.” He bowed with a large innocent smile, before departing again into nothing. I let out a sigh, looking at the bundle ingredients in my cauldron. It was already beginning to get dark, and I lit an oil lantern, before hanging it up above me as I rested everything in a ‘room’ as I would call it.

After organizing everything, I quickly began to work, the night slowly encroaching behind the black clouds. Crushing, cutting, and mixing ingredients in my cauldron, the liquid quickly took on a black coloring as I waved my wand clockwise over the mixture. I heaved a sigh while glancing at the Tome for more guidance. ‘I just have to know…’ I thought, not wanting to become anything like the horrid wizard that created this.

After a few hours, and night had taken hold, the lamp oil began to run thin, flickering as its flame lost strength. “And now for the last ingredients…” I gulped, reaching into my jacket, taking out the vial of Thestral blood. “The blood of a Thestral, a mouthful if drunken straight.” I recounted the book's words, and poured the black sludge into the pot, the mixture changing to an even darker black. Before taking out my knife again. “As well as a drop of your own blood…” I took a deep breath, my hands shaking as I held them above the cauldron, having doubts.

A sudden whisper entered my ears, and I snapped my head to look at a lonesome Dementor hovering only a few feet away, silently watching me. We continued to stare at one another, (They had no eyes, but just faced me) until I couldn’t take it anymore. Finally with a small grunt, I cut open my pinky, and watched as a drop fell from my blade and into the cauldron. I stuck my finger in my mouth to stop the bleeding, focusing on the metallic taste as I waved my wand now in a counter clockwise motion. ‘Now the most difficult part.’

I gulped and held the book in my hand as I pointed my wand at the swirling mixture of black and crimson. “SARTHOR’GOR…” I began reading the incantation written in old rune language, doing my best to read the words correctly. “KADISHTU…” As the words left my lips, I began feeling a strange sense of familiarity, much to how the words formed in my mouth when entering the Chamber of Secrets for the first time. “FORMAZ…” The mixture began bubbling away at this point, as if all the water and dilutions were being violently removed. “FOMALHAUT RLMARG AROMPHA TRAMAL!!”

With the last words spoken, the black mixture finally stopped bubbling, and had turned into a vial amount of itself. The mixture was the blackest black I had ever seen before, like a pit of abyss was somehow in my cauldron. The only tell that it was there was the accents of sanguine ran through it like veins. I carefully moved the liquid into an empty vial, and stared at it, feeling it somehow cold to the touch, watching the red slowly move around and through the light engorging black. The whispers grew near, as the Dementor watching me, hovered just over my shoulder, wordlessly telling me to partake. 'I have to know...' I thought with grit teeth, quickly downing the vial's contents before I could talk myself out of it.