Night

prgreenhaw · **Posted:** Tue Nov 23, 2010 1:05 pm

3 a.m.

Saroph snapped shut the pocketwatch with a sigh, rubbing his eyes and closing the book in his lap, “Lightning: Physics and Effects by Vladimir A. Rakov”. As his gaze swept the Gryffindor commons, he found himself once again envying those able to sleep, those able to dream about things other than fire and screaming and torture… chronic insomnia, Saroph mused, must be the gateway to hell. He lay his head back against the plush chair, closing his eyes and breathing steadily. Though he knew that he would never find sleep no matter what he did, the position was relaxing, and he usually found that he could at least rest his muscles, even if he could never rest his mind.

A cackling soon infiltrated his thoughts, a quiet laugh that was reminiscent of a time long gone, a time when he spent his days in an unlit room covered in chains and forced onto his knees. His closed eyes clenched, and he desperately tried to push the memory away. The more he pushed, however, the closer the laugh seemed. Even know, it seemed to emenate from this very room…

His eyes snapped open, and with a start he realized that the laugh –was- coming from this room. His gaze combed the commons, his breath coming quicker and quicker. He looked down at his right hand, realizing he’d drawn his wand without even registering the movement. The creak of a floorboard brought him back to his surroundings, though he still could not see any intruder.

“Who’s there?” He half-rose, his voice betraying his nervousness.

“Oh-ho-ho, hee hee…” The voice rang low throughout the room, seeming more of a taunt than an actual laugh. After a few moments, a young man stepped out of the shadows, seeming to materialize into an expensive green-lined black suite, strangely similar to the one Saroph now wore.

Saroph raised his wand, standing now at his full height. “Who are you.”

The figure looked around surprisedly, long black hair flowing around his familiar face. “…me? Who are you, hmm?” He pointed at Saroph for a moment, his eyes narrowed, then smirked.

“I am Saroph, a Gryffindor, and if you don’t identify yourself then I’m calling a professor.” Saroph’s tone was defiant, more sure than before.

“Oh, I wouldn’t do that if I were you. I mean, you wouldn’t want to tattle on… yourself?” The figure grinned, striding slowly toward Saroph. “But you’re right, I can at least identify myself. You can call me…” The figure pursed his lips for a moment. “…Night.”

Saroph’s own eyes narrowed. “Get the hell out of here.”

“Me?!” The young man looked around again, as though Saroph must surely be talking to someone else. “…but I’m you! At least, I’m part of you…” he reached up, slowly pulling his jet-black bangs from his face to reveal Saroph’s own features, unscarred. “Now, you see, we can’t really be telling on each other if we’re supposed to be… -friends-, hmm?”

Saroph rocked back a step, his wand arm lowering a few inches. He put a hand to his head, closing his eyes and muttering, “I’m finally going crazy…”

Night bounced upon the balls of his feet, slapping his hands together. “Oh-ho-ho, yes. The drug-addled sixteen year old wizard is going crazy! Newspapers will be flabbergasted, markets will crumble, the economy will collapse!” His grin disappeared, replaced with a look of annoyance. “Stop feeling sorry for yourself, Saroph. It’s your most detestable trait.” He closed the space between himself and Saroph, reaching up a hand to Saroph’s chest. “May I?”

Saroph felt himself lightly, but firmly, pushed back into the chair. To his amazement, Night settled himself onto his lap, putting one arm around Saroph’s neck and leaving his crossed feet dangling over the arm of the chair, sighing contentedly. “Now, I suppose you have a lot of questions for me, and I’ll have to answer them before we can continue our little gaaame.”

Saroph’s mouth opened slackly, his eyes looking into Night’s own uncomprehendingly.

“Ah,” Night mused, “that –would- be the first.” He looked up to the ceiling theatrically, his tongue darting out to lick his lips before starting. “-Well-… in the beginning, as they say, there was –one-.” His gaze fell back to Saroph’s. “You. UnFORTUNately, I was conceived aaat… well, about the same time.” He held his fingers about an inch apart, moving his shoulders up and down alternatively. “You were made about this much faster than I was.” He lowered his arm, sweeping it grandly around the commons. “Lo and behold, the conceivement ritual was ever the success! –But-, it left the two of us with one little problem.” He sighed, closing his eyes. “Only one of us could be born using –that- particular ritual. But that’s not important!” Night tapped Saroph’s cheek repeatedly, as though recapturing Saroph’s attention. “What –is- important is that we, as twins, eventually fused together…” His hand raised, making a fist. “And I became a consciousness inside you, forever forced to merely watching as life went by…” His head thunked as it meet Saroph’s own. “It was a nightmare. Could you imagine living every day in complete darkness, with only the occasional thought to keep you company?” He raised his head quickly, looking at Saroph apologetically. “Oh yeah… sorry.” His sudden laughter cut through the still air. “So, I came up with a plan. I began sapping your own energy, your own strength, so that one day –I- might be strong enough to walk this world. But to do that, I needed as much rest as possible.”

Saroph looked away, his mouth open slightly as he registered what was just said. “So you… you’re the reason I haven’t slept in –years-?!”

“BINGO, dear boy, what an excellent mind you have! I would know, I’ve been in it for the last –sixteen years-…”

Saroph frowned, his eyes narrowing again. “What is your –point-?”

“My –point- is that I wish to make a deal with you.” Night hissed in Saroph’s face, his own barely an inch away. “I will… take over, at night, while you are resting. I will use your body to –liiive-, as I have never lived before. And in return, you will have rest, relaxation, and the comforting knowledge that I alone hold the power to do find what you so –desperately- seek…” his mouth moved close, whispering in Saroph’s ear. “Immortality…”

Saroph pushed Night away, straightening his back and looking at him with furrowed brows. “And why the hell would I allow –that-? Who knows what you’ll be up to!”

“Saroph, you’re not –getting it-.” He pushed his twin back down, deeper into the plush chair. “Your wants, your needs, have always been –my- wants and needs. Your pain was my pain when Gwen left you for Justan. Your fury was my fury when Kadaja became engaged to Drathil. Your… hurt, was my hurt, when your father left you with this…” His hand caressed Saroph’s scarred left face for a moment. “I have no intention of making the both of us unhappy. Despite our… differing views on particular situations, we have always desired the same outcome. Haven’t we?” He tapped Saroph lightly on the nose, emphasizing his last two words. “Search inside yourself, Saroph… you have kept me in your mind your entire life. You know my thoughts and feelings, much as I am privy to your own. No longer let it scare you! Alone, you are but mediocre. But together, we can be –more-.”

Saroph’s gaze found the far wall. Though he was scared out of his wits, he knew, deep down, that his brother was telling the truth… Saroph had always felt a tugging on his consciousness, felt a darker side of himself which he usually kept locked away. And as his eyes met with Night’s once more, he knew that what Night was promising was true; alone, he was one man, one –boy-. But together, they could accomplish great things… and as he said, they had always desired the same outcome. Night was the means to an end.

“Yesss…” Night breathed. “I am the means to an end, as are you. The more we support each other, rely on each other, the more we may accomplish.”

“Who are you talking to?”

Saroph jumped, his eyes snapping to the young Gryffindor girl holding a glass of water by the stairs. He suddenly realized there was no longer a weight on his legs, and he began looking around the commons, but it appeared as though Night had vanished. Without looking at her, he replied, “No one. I wasn’t talking to anyone. Go back to bed.”

The young Gryffindor looked affronted for a moment, but she shrugged and walked back up the stairs.

Saroph lay his head back, closing his eyes and sighing. He felt a great weariness come over him, and then Night’s voice softly speaking.

“Rest, Saroph. We have much work to do, you and I. You’re going to –love- me…”

Night

Night

Night

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