Potions Classroom [August 2028]

Rated M for strong violence, images, etc. Proceed with caution or don't read at all.

Victor walked through the halls of Hogwarts, both haunted and excited by the familiarity. For each step, unused classroom, and every corner he could distinctly recall an accompanying memory set during his time her at Hogwarts, over twenty years ago. The damp, ashy, ancient smell was both invigorating and enthralling for the wizard. Almost as much as the woman whom he sought and knew was merely a few feet further down the hall. He was sorely tempted to explore other areas of Hogwarts, particularly the old Slytherin common rooms, where most of his most treasured moments were, but silenced the urge. He had business with a certain witch to attend to.

Jackpot, he thought to himself upon noticing that her classroom wasn't the empty, locked domain he had originally anticipated it would be, and was instead wide open, with the witch he was seeking inside it, at the far right hand corner of the room, standing upon a chair, packing up certain objects and paperwork into various boxes throughout the room.

"Hello Amaranth," he greeted softly, stepping into the classroom.

She jumped slightly at the sound of another's voice, and turned to see who it was. It was a needless action, considering she recognized the voice from the very first syllable, but an action she took nonetheless, as she scanned her ex-lover's appearance. A light scowl appeared, as she demanded with iciness that the Ice Queen herself would be proud of. "What do you want, Victor?"

Certainly not the greeting Victor had desired, but a greeting nonetheless. He couldn't help but smile softly at her words, thoroughly reminded of their explosive, toxic relationship. "A lot of things, actually. My art to be appreciated, my music to be adored, freely bestowed happiness..." he paused a moment, scanning her dulled, hollow green eyes before adding with true sincerity. "Your forgiveness..."

Viper stiffened at the words, pausing in her packing to look at him. "It wasn't your fault. I already told you that. It was just... me being stupid, and wishing I was a teenager again: carefree, with the world at my feet." she added with bitterness. "Not just an old 'Has-been' like I am now, with nothing to live for..."

"Amaranth, that's not true. I-"

"Just go away." she replied, turning her back to him once more, focusing her attention on rolling up a poster.

Victor sighed in slight frustration. He knew the woman before him, technically before she was even born, for their families had been allies, and Mothers best friends. He knew her well enough to know that once her mind was set, it wouldn't change, and that prodding her would only result in him being hexed. However, leaving her was the furthest thing from his mind as he set to work on the pile of posters beside him, near her desk, and began rolling the posters as well. She gave him a brief look of acknowledgement as she noticed him aiding her, but said nothing.

About an hour of silent work passed with no words exchanged between the two. Victor sent her several glances, ensuring she was all right, but said no words, knowing she wouldn't reply. As he finished the last of the files and posters from his end, he sorted it out all in the boxes and carried it over to the small pile of boxes near her desk. As he deposited the packed box, a silver glint caught his eye. He glanced over, quirking his brow as he noticed a photo frame turned facedown as though whoever was meant to sit at the desk couldn't bear to stare at them. Curious, he flipped the photos over, startled to see that it was, in fact, a photo of Amaranth and her family.

The photo was a rather simple one, presumably taken around Christmas, judging by the Christmas decor surrounding them. Both Amaranth and her husband were upon the sofa, with a little boy who was about four upon her lap, a little girl aged about six between her and her husband, while a young infant, no more than a year old nestled safely within his arms. Simple, but heartwarming nonetheless as Victor could personally see all the love and happiness the family had for each other. He noticed with a pang of melancholy one rather crucial, yet seemingly insignificant detail of the photo. While the children were facing the camera, with bright smiling faces, Viper and her husband's gazes were locked elsewhere: upon each other.

He couldn't help but smile sadly as he looked closely upon the expressions of unguarded adoration upon his face, wholly reciprocated by Amaranth's. She had never looked at Victor like that, in all their years together... and yet here she was, burning brightly, glowing, for her husband. It took Victor a moment of recollection, but he distinctly recalled seeing the wizard in a jewelry shop, some nine years ago. Now he knew why.

"How many children do you have?" he asked softly, looking to the witch who had by now noticed him staring intently at the photo she herself could not bear to look at, knowing what she had done to all of them.

"Living? Three. Sevastyan and I are -were- married for nine years." she corrected herself, feeling the by now quite familiar wave of sorrow wash over her, embracing her into suffocation.

Victor nodded silently. He stared at her, meeting her sorrow-plagued orbs as though debating with himself, pondering if he should ask the question burning deeply in it's curiosity, within his mind. His curiosity won, as he asked in a gentle tone, not at all intending to be accusing or harsh. "Why him? Why, despite holding yourself and your future into your own hands, were you so easily able to give it all to him?"

Viper stayed silent, staring at him with neutrality, unsure of how to respond, for in all honesty, it was an answer she herself did not know. Seeing her expression and lack of words, Victor took the plunge headfirst and continued, determined to get his quench of curiosity sated.

"Through all of our years together, you were never faithful to me. Granted, I was by no means a monogamous man, but you were never bothered by my affairs, and were only more than eager to conduct your own. Yet now, after one single night with another, all hell breaks lose for you. Why is that, Amaranth?

"Why were you so eager to abandon the career of your dreams to be with him, yet would spare scarcely an hour with me during your years at ECHO? Why were you so taken aback by the idea of marriage, and vehement in your refusal to marry me, yet so willing to be eternally bonded with him? Why did you tell me straight to my face that in the event you were ever to fall pregnant with my child, you would abort it, instantly, yet willingly and happily carry this man's three children?"

"Why, Amaranth?"

A long moment of silence passed, a few tears cascading down Viper's face as she blinked them away with a shrug. "I-I don't know... I suppose it just... all made sense... when it came to Sevastyan." she sniffed, brushing away her remaining tears before turning to him with a scowl. "What's it to you, anyway? It's not as though we're happily married. Hell, we haven't spoken and I haven't seen him, or any of them, in weeks... I wouldn't be surprised if a few days from now, I get a floo or letter from the divorce courts..."

Victor softened at the tears, approaching closer to her in an effort to aid her, until he was coldly brushed aside.

"Just get away from me, Victor. Sevastyan's probably somewhere in the castle, and the last thing I need is for him to think I'm still seeing you and that all of this, my illness and everything was just a hoax of a reason I needed to leave him..." she closed her eyes, tears cascading down even faster as she added in a whisper. "H-He doesn't understand... anything..."

"Amaranth..." Victor uttered softly, approaching her once more time in an effort to take her into his arms and comfort her, only to have a cold, hard slap meet him across his face.

"What? For Merlin's sake, Victor, what do you want from me?!?" she demanded, all her pent up emotion erupting full-throttle.

"You! I only ever wanted you!" he finally bellowed, losing his self-control and blurting out his deepest secret.

Amaranth hadn't known it; hell he didn't even plan on telling her. He wouldn't have, except for the fact he felt so damn guilty about it now, and his plan backfired. He didn't win her back, he didn't come and save her like a hero saves his damsel in distress, just as he had envisioned it the moment he first thought of everything. He made it worse. He had broken her. He had killed her relationships with everyone.

Green orbs scanned him, now burning with understanding. Suddenly, everything made sense. "You son of a bitch..." she hissed, slapping him once more.

This time he had anticipated it, and in his sadistic nature, even enjoyed it. Oh how it brought all the memories back! This is how Victor and Viper were: two flames of utter passion, that once consumed would cause nothing but pain and destruction. Together, they fed; they nourished, and then destroyed each other. Themselves, everything, everyone.

The impact sent a trickle of blood along his lip, which he eagerly devoured, his heart burning with dark passion play. Oh how he missed her! Maybe it was toxic, maybe it was sickening, and maybe it was dangerous... But that was them. That was how they were. He was an addict. Addicted to drugs, and alcohol, but especially to the witch before him. And like all good addicts, he was enduring a rather painful withdrawal, his craving and need eager to be fulfilled, needed more than his next breath...

"Come on now, Amaranth. The charade is over, your role as 'wifey' has reached its end... You said so yourself, you haven't spoken to him in weeks. Everything that was between you has faded. So why not come back to me?" he leaned closer to her, pressing his forehead against her's, inhaling her familiar scent deeply.” Come back..." he whispered. "Come back to me..."

He wrapped his arms around her waist, relishing the feel of her in his arms, noting with joy that despite having at least three children, her figure had changed only slightly. "Let me save you..." he pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Let me heal you..." he pressed a kiss where her broken heart lay. "Let me protect you..." he held her tightly now, as though he was willing to radiate all the love and longing he held for her unto her less than willing form that had stiffened with each gesture of affection.

He showered her face and neck with kisses before whispering huskily into her ear. "Let me make love to you..."

Viper pulled back from his kisses, green orbs meeting blue, though still stayed locked within his embrace. Victor had always played a part in her life, in some way or another. He would always be there, always be her phantom, haunting her. "All right..." she whispered.

A thrill of delight and satisfaction washed over the wizard as he leaned closer to press a fiery kiss upon her wine-colored lips, before a delicate finger placed his lips halted his advances. "When you save me, bring me down under, further down to flaming wraths of hell where you and I both belong..." she moved one hand around his neck, pressing her nails hard, down upon his neck, relishing in the pain filled gasp she emitted from him.

"When you heal me, know that it was you that started it all and broke me..." she summoned her dagger and pressed Victor against the wall, her emerald orbs flashing dangerously. He hadn't noticed her summoned dagger and was only to eager to help her rip open his robes, exposing his toned chest. His heart beat with anticipation as he watched her lips go closer and closer to his chest, right where his heart was...

...Only to feel the pain of a knife carving a broken heart into his flesh, instead of her sweet, poisoned lips. Strangely, the sensations of both were rather identical, yet alarming nonetheless as he was now bleeding a river of toxic romance.

"When you protect me, know that while you watch my back, no one will watch yours..." she hissed as her free hand met Victor's nose, breaking it instantly as a loud crack echoed through the classroom and blood splattered everywhere, causing another painful cry to erupt from Victor.

"And when you make love to me... know that I'll be making hate to you.." she whispered into his ear as she stepped back, observing the now bleeding form of her old flame, a sense of satisfaction and vengeance filling her.

Victor stared in awe at his old lover before laughing darkly, softly at first, but then loudly, almost maniacally, as though what he was now enduring was the most comedic even imaginable. This was why he loved her. She was his equal in every sense of the word. Every gesture, every token, every word he gave her, she could and would take, and turn it into poison.

Enlivened and in sadistic bliss, he took her into his arms, his lips crashing into her's. His blood and her heartache melded into one in this dark, passionate moment. They danced and fought for dominance and power, gaining and losing nothing, and everything, until Viper finally pulled away, Victor's blood smeared unto her pale flesh, as she hastily wiped it away. This was them, two flames begging to be quenched, but doomed for nothing but heartache and destruction. His wife left him, while Viper wondered if Sevastyan was ever really her's.

"Amaranth Ethelinda Viper..." he sighed with a feral, satisfied smile. "Baptized with a perfect name..." he half-spoke, half-sung, referring to the first line in the song he had written for her. "Good bye, Amaranth." he uttered in an equally satisfied tone as he waved goodbye to his old lover, forever. Or, in his perspective, until one of them was in need of the other once more.

"Good bye, Victor." she uttered neutrally, turning around once more, bidding good bye to the man who once held her heart, and yet, simultaneously, held nothing. Though from her perspective, it was for good.

--------------

In the hallways, Victor stared at the now closed door to the Potions classroom with a smirk. Perhaps he didn't win what he sought, considering her heart belonged to her husband where it would always linger, but, in his opinion, he certainly didn't lose. He had gotten his goodbye, his final farewell to his immortal flame; a woman who was never, and yet always, there: the never fading rain in his heart, now, thanks to him, with tears of snow white sorrow. Did he feel guilty? Slightly. But his pleasure far out-weighed his guilt. He was a self-seeking wizard, after-all, just as she was a self-seeking witch. That's why they worked so well together. They were equals in every sense of the word, completely similar down to the last personality trait. That was their blessing, that was their doom. Their destiny.

Dark laughter escaped him as he continued making his way down the hall, not doing anything about his bleeding wounds. To him, they were the sweet, wrathful after-effects of what had occured, sending shocks of pain-infected delight throughout his being. Humming the tune he had composed with her as his muse, he continues prancing down, a new swagger within his step, no shame at what he had done plaguing his being, nor pain from rejection, for he had gotten what he wanted. And that was all that mattered.

A countenance that clearly expressed this was the last thing Sevastyan wanted to be doing darkened the drawn features of the professor as he headed toward the dungeons. It had been days – weeks – since he’d spoken to Amaranth Viper despite her being technically so near. So near, yet so far... He didn’t even let his children go anywhere near the dungeons, despite Lara and Demyan’s wishes to watch the squid from the aquarium-like “window” in the Slytherin Common Room.

Even now he made sure his children were in a completely different part of the castle, just in case hostile sparks flew. The topic he was hoping to discuss with her was not exactly one he wanted them to be a part of either. Sevastyan needed to know where he stood with Amaranth: was this a separation, or should they go with a full-blown divorce?

Vaguely he wondered how Amaranth would react to his new look: hair shorn, and dark patches beneath his eyes from both an attempt to resemble the photos of Victor in various yearbooks as well as his delvings into the Dark Arts forming a sort of residue on his eyes. Insofar as he knew, Amaranth had no idea what was going on in his life, just as he had no idea what was going on in hers.

The sound of dark, masculine laughter made the hair on the back of Sevastyan’s neck stand on end. He didn’t see anyone yet, but it was clear someone else was down here. But who? Rounding a corner, the wizard found the source of the sound, though couldn’t determine who it was. Clearly an adult... but not one he recognized. By default, Sevastyan discreetly withdrew his wand. For all he knew, the other wizard could be a purger who had just had the pleasure of a kill. He could see blood on the man’s face... while his marriage lay in a pile of rubble at his feet, the Russian hoped and prayed the blood was not his wife’s. And if it was... one of them was going to never see the light of day again. If it was the blood of one of his students, the purgers would have a hard time finding the body of their comrade if that was truly who it was.

It wasn’t until Sevastyan was a good twenty feet away or so that he recognized the wizard heading right for him. He had seen the man in the jewelry store some nine years ago without even realizing it, and learned the man’s name after a day of looking through Hogwarts yearbooks with her. Victor Levinthal... the very name made his blood boil since she’d revealed her brief affair, and caused Sevastyan’s face to redden with embarrassment and fury. Amaranth had embarrassed him by going to Victor, clearly an indication that she wasn’t satisfied with some aspect of their love life or lack thereof since her repeated rejections to his advances. Had she told Victor some small secret regarding something she didn’t like about their married life she hadn’t said to her own husband?! Yes, Sevastyan was insecure; yes, his heart still felt as though it were going through a meat grinder. And yes, Sevastyan wanted nothing more than a chance to challenge Victor face-to-face. It wouldn’t win Amaranth back by a long shot, but that wasn’t his goal. Much as he didn’t want to admit it, Sevastyan had more or less lost her – or rather part of her – several months ago. She would always hold his heart, but the Russian wasn’t so sure he really held hers anymore. He’d thought he had... but the bitter truth (or what he thought was truth) of weeks ago cast doubt into his mind.

”You!” Sevastyan hissed fiercely in Parseltongue, shoving Victor against the wall with his right and revealing the drawn wand clenched in his left fist. “Give me a reason... Give me vone ******* reason vy I shouldn’t curse you every god-forsaken step of the vay from here to oblivion and vatch as you rot in the bowels of Hell!”

Victor continued to make his way down the halls with a rather satisfied expression. With the recent events, testified and proven by his disheveled and ragged, bloody appearance, he walked with an added swagger to his step. Perhaps he shouldn't be so pleased with himself. After all, given Amaranth Viper's reputation and overall persona that he had grown up with, what he had gotten from her wasn't all that special when thought about in certain standards, especially when it used to happen quite often with various people, more often than not, not requiring all the effort he had invested.

Still, though, Victor Levinthal had grown up a spoiled, pampered child. To this day, no matter how small and insignificant his prize may be, he still relished and treasured every single one, for it proved to all, in his eyes, that he always got what he wanted.

”You!”

His state of egocentric euphoria was paused for a moment though as he heard a semi-familiar voice call out to him. Despite being a hardcore Slytherin, other House's traits such as curiosity coursed through him, provoking him into turning around. Little did he know just how much he would regret looking and following by his own House's rules of fleeing from danger.

“Give me a reason... Give me vone ******* reason vy I shouldn’t curse you every god-forsaken step of the vay from here to oblivion and vatch as you rot in the bowels of Hell!”

The pain from Amaranth's "beating" seemed to intensify as who his mind soon registered as her husband -or ex-husband, he wasn't quite sure at this point- slammed him against the wall. Despite feeling the stone hardness of the castle bruise his ribs and backside and scraping parts of his neck, he couldn't help smile darkly, giving a light laugh to the older wizard. "A reason? Merely one? Well, that's almost too easy. I suppose I should start with the simplest and, if I may say so, most important." he smirked at Sevastyan for a bit before leaning in closer, uttering with a low, almost mocking tone.

"I'm Victor Levinthal." He spoke as though it were the most obvious answer in the world. His arrogance was so concentrated that he was truly under the belief that his sole name was justification enough for everything and anything. He was the cliché pureblood, down to the very core. Just like Viper.

While Sevastyan's initial anger had startled him at first, now that they were face to face, his fury became a source of amusement for the composer, inspiring him to see just how far he could go. Playing a piano of destruction and symphony of despair, he played the first key of the evening and started the "face-down".

"And you are?" he gave a dry snicker, accompanied by his smirk before adding. "I've always had a rather difficult time with names so I'll need a refresher. Unless of course you'd like me to refer to you as 'Old chap who knocked up Amaranth and proceeded to have a shot-wand wedding?' It's a bit long but I'm flexible." he assured Sevastyan with a cocky grin. "You can ask your wife that, if you don't believe me." he added with a smirking wink.

"I must say though, you are rather clever. I mean, I can't even begin to tell you how many years I spent trying to get her to marry me. If I knew all it took was to get her knocked up, we could have been married for ages now! That way, all her, or should I say our, kiddies could have had blue eyes instead." he snickered, folding his arms over his chest with a full-fledged smirk. "No worries, though. She's young, I'm young. Time and opportunity are before us. The possibilities are endless..."

Fingertips to elbow were pushed against the other wizard’s collarbone, pinning Victor from shoulder-to-shoulder. Sevastyan’s nose scrunched up in distaste at the laugh, having hoped to cause Victor a small measure of the pain the Russian had been dealt from this whole mess. The dark smile didn’t bother him, having flashed quite a few of those when he himself had been a teen, but the hair on the back of Sevastyan’s neck stood on end.

At the smirking remark from Victor the Russian exhaled sharply through his nose, impatiently waiting for the answer. He gave the man space enough to lean forward a trifle with great reluctance. Gray eyes narrowed at what was indeed a simple answer, but not the one he was looking for. “I know who you are! Your name alone gives me reason enough to send you straight to the abyss as far as I’m concerned!” Sevastyan hissed in Parseltongue.

The drops of onyx that were the pupils of Sevastyan’s eyes constricted to pinpricks at being asked for his name. Viper hadn’t once mentioned him while her affair with Victor – regardless how brief – had been going on? Then again, after thinking about it, Sevastyan supposed she wouldn’t have. If she had to mention him at all, she probably would’ve referred to him as merely the ‘husband’. An empty title these days, and one he wasn’t sure he still had the right to claim now. But Victor didn’t need to know that...

"I've always had a rather difficult time with names so I'll need a refresher. Unless of course you'd like me to refer to you as 'Old chap who knocked up Amaranth and proceeded to have a shot-wand wedding?' It's a bit long but I'm flexible."

A deep growl of sorts issued from Sevastyan as Victor insulted him and his wife/ex-wife by assuming Sevastyan had only married Amaranth because he’d gotten her pregnant. He vaguely remembered Amaranth thinking approximately the same thing of him: that he was only interested in marriage because of the baby. It had hurt him a bit when her opinions became known, for he truly did care about the witch. “Sevastyan Kaminski,” he snarled, his anger causing him to lean more heavily upon his accent. It was just easier to go up one side and down the other when reaming someone out when it was in one’s native language. “Truly displeasure meeting you again...” he added as an afterthought, releasing his physical hold on Victor but still kept his wand trained on him. As a teen Sevastyan had always said something like that upon meeting someone in a snarky, joking tone. However this time he rather meant it, considering the circumstances upon which they were conversing.

"I must say though, you are rather clever. I mean, I can't even begin to tell you how many years I spent trying to get her to marry me. If I knew all it took was to get her knocked up, we could have been married for ages now! That way, all her, or should I say our, kiddies could have had blue eyes instead."

Blood boiling at what he easily identified as pure-blood arrogance (he’d had it at one point, too, so he could spot it a mile away), Sevastyan’s features contorted and filled to the brim with rage. “I loved her – her getting pregnant had nothing to do vith my choice to propose!” Sevastyan shouted, deaf to hearing his own voice echo robustly down the hall. “And last I looked, it vos the voman’s decision to accept or deny such a proposal at her discretion.” He wanted to shout the words Amaranth had uttered to him during their argument, regarding Victor, but wasn’t sure if he dared... what if that had all changed since their separation? It wasn’t Sevastyan’s nature to toss about gossip, either.

"No worries, though. She's young, I'm young. Time and opportunity are before us. The possibilities are endless..."

That did it. Sevastyan snarled the incantation for a strong stinging hex, aiming haphazardly at the wizard before him. The gall of this man... to assume Amaranth would just... or had she? It was a bit suspicious that Victor was here in her territory... Sevastyan gave himself a little mental shake to rid himself of the thoughts. Now wasn’t the time. This was now a duel of sorts. There were no words for Sevastyan to say. If Victor wanted to think as foolishly as the Russian had, thinking there was plenty of time to bask in the loving gaze of Amaranth Viper, then so be it. Possibly seeing how much her passing would pain Victor would be a bittersweet pleasure: Sevastyan would obviously be saddened beyond words by the loss, still considering her to be his wife... yet it would be coupled with the satisfaction that she had not deceived only him, but Victor as well...

“If making love to an intoxicated, married voman vith a terminal illness is your idea of endless possibilities, I vonder vy you can’t stick to the singles pool like the other little boys... Surely there are beyond-infinite possibilities ven the voman has no attachments and hasn’t been diagnosed vith an incurable condition...” Sevastyan retorted with a sneer.

Despite finding the overall situation funny, Victor couldn't help but wince at the position and force Sevastyan unleashed on him. The other wizard was a bit taller than him, but much more buff and muscular than Victor's rather scrawny, thin frame, giving him an instant advantage. Victor recoiled slightly, demonstrating the renowned Slytherin nature, but nonetheless continued smirking, if only for appearances and to mask the fact he felt rather threatened, and was immediately relieved that Sevastyan gave him room, despite it only being enough to breath. "Take it easy now, man! What, did the house-elf bring the vodka too warm this morning? Relax! What are you so uptight about?"

He blinked for a moment at the cadence of a different language. Although he couldn't understand it, he recognized it as Parseltongue, having come across it in his youth many times, and even on occasion in present day. The tone wasn't lost on him either. If anything, it heightened his memories of the snake language, for most of the times he had heard it was when he and Viper were dating, and her anger reached to the point where she couldn't differentiate what language she was yelling in. Victor paused a moment, taking in Sevastyan's appearance, wondering why his look seemed rather familiar before taking another jab. "I would have thought you'd be happy about it all..."

"Truly displeasure meeting you again...”

Victor leaned against the wall slightly, this time of his own volition, watching his words take effect. He half anticipated another shove, or perhaps a hex or five, but he couldn't help himself. Curiosity killed the snake, of course, but still, the snake died thrilled. He jumped slightly at the growl, his hand wandering to the wand hidden within the pocket of his side, for his own protection. While he was finding Sevastyan's reaction rather humorous, his sense of self-preservation still lingered, causing him to at least plan to defend himself when push came to shove. He shrugged at the snarl, replying "I'd say likewise, but I fear that would be rather rude, After all, have I truly done anything to provoke such rudeness. I mean, if anything, should it not be your wife who receives such anger from you? I was the free agent, while she was the bound. I had no obligation, while she left you and the kids. Or were you about to say the same to "wifey", but I was merely in your way?" Azure eyes met grey in a challenge with a smirk, testing to see if his words promote any reaction, much like one wears red before a bull: reckless, dangerous, but thrilling nonetheless.

“I loved her – her getting pregnant had nothing to do vith my choice to propose!”

The raven head wizard couldn't help but flinch slightly at the volume, surprised at the outburst, yet intrigued nonetheless as he ventured further on ahead. He shook his head smugly with a smirk as he raised a hand, placing it upon Sevastyan's shoulder in what would be a typically comforting gesture, had he not been one of the factors in Sevastyan needing comfort. "Calm down! Please, Sev, really. Use your indoor voice. We're in a school, for Merlin's sake!" he chuckled darkly once more.

"So it was just a coincidence that shortly after getting her "nested" you popped the question? Please, Sev, don't kid me. Though I have to admit, it seemed to work out rather well. She always hated children, you see. One of the big reasons it didn't work out between us. I wanted them, still do, but she didn't. Said it would ruin her figure. Rather vain that one is, eh? Ah well, still got your rugrats anyway, didn't you? All's well that ends well." he paused once more, with the same calculating gaze, trying to see the effects of his words. Dare he venture forward? Dare he put his unyielding curiosity to the test, and stare his potential death via a furious Russian to the test?

“And last I looked, it vos the voman’s decision to accept or deny such a proposal at her discretion.”

...He dared, taunting Sevastyan to see if what he had heard through various sources were true.

"And that she did. Five times, was it not, that she rejected you?"

An intense stinging pain echoed through him, sending him into mental oblivion. He felt as though every limb of his was on fire, yet he loved every moment of it, yearning, nearly pleading for more. He was a sadist. And masochist. To him, pain was the very elixir of life, for without pain, there was no life, just as there was no pain without life. Once the first wave coursed through, he collapsed upon the wall, panting, sneering at the expression and words upon Sevastyan's face. "Single women without pained, abandoned husbands like you? Now where would the fun be in that?" he asked, by now bearing a look of utter lunacy as he sent the same spell Sevastyan had used upon him, back at the Russian wizard.

A measure of a sadistic pleasure Sevastyan rarely felt since turning his back on the Dark Arts shot through him like a jolt of electricity. Were he to be honest with himself he rather liked that old feeling, sick as it might be. And yet the infernal smirk still remained upon the other wizard’s face. “You have no idea vot hells I’ve been through. Don’t ever tell me to take it easy,” Sevastyan sneered at the wizard with barely-contained rage.

The muscles surrounding the Russian’s mouth and upon his cheeks twitched, the scowl already present upon his features deepening with his desire to beat or hex the other man senseless. Legal repercussions was the bigger portion of his reasons for not laying into Victor with all the anger and frustration he’d accumulated since his wife started avoiding him. Sevastyan wanted to keep his job and his reputation relatively clean. Assaulting a ‘visitor’ would hardly keep his record untarnished, even if it was justified on some level.

If Sevastyan didn’t know any better, he’d say Victor was enjoying himself as he leaned against the wall of his own accord. He kept a vice-like grip upon his wand, which only tightened when Victor started reaching for his own. On one hand, Sevastyan liked the fact he was getting at least some of his point across for the wizard to fear what could be done unto him. Yet on the other, this was just one of many reasons he stopped going down this road: he had enjoyed too much the sense of power it gave, despite knowing it was morally wrong.

"I'd say likewise, but I fear that would be rather rude. After all, have I truly done anything to provoke such rudeness. I mean, if anything, should it not be your wife who receives such anger from you? I was the free agent, while she was the bound. I had no obligation, while she left you and the kids. Or were you about to say the same to "wifey", but I was merely in your way?"

The way the Russian’s nose wrinkled in response to the words reminded one of a straw with a bendable neck, skin crinkling in an accordion-esque fashion. “You’ve done plenty,” he leered, giving a jerk as though he were about to do something but then thought better of it. “Leave her the **** out of this! You don’t know anything about our family! This is strictly betveen us.” With Sevastyan’s free hand he gestured to himself and to Victor for further emphasis.

The sudden raising of Victor’s hand made Sevastyan take a backward, evasive step, though he hadn’t been quite quick enough to avoid the contact. In his opinion it was a mockery of the meaning it was generally intended to give. The Russian wizard jerked his head to eye the unwelcome hand and then back to its owner’s eyes. Those taunting, infuriating eyes alight with a smug little smirk. Now he knew how Headmaster Orlov felt when bestowed with such a look. “I vill use votever voice I damn vell vish to,” Sevastyan retorted in a lethal whisper. “Now, I vould appreciate it if you vould kindly remove your hand... unless you vant me to remove it for you...”

"So it was just a coincidence that shortly after getting her "nested" you popped the question? Please, Sev, don't kid me. Though I have to admit, it seemed to work out rather well. She always hated children, you see. One of the big reasons it didn't work out between us. I wanted them, still do, but she didn't. Said it would ruin her figure. Rather vain that one is, eh? Ah well, still got your rugrats anyway, didn't you? All's well that ends well.

"And that she did. Five times, was it not, that she rejected you?"

Had Sevastyan not cast a spell upon the man already, he would have seen fit to strike Victor’s already broken-looking nose. The Russian was not going to waste his breath on explaining the ins and outs of his relationship with Amaranth to the one responsible for his fall from grace; the on responsible for plunging him and his children from marital and familial Heaven into the fiery yet frigid depths of its opposite. It was Hell upon them all. “Tvice, for your information, before she accepted! Vhich is more than I can say for you,” he shouted as the hex ran its course through his target. It didn’t have quite the effect he’d hoped, however, as Victor seemed to be enjoying it. ’Great... he’s either a masochist or also has CIPA...’ Sevastyan mused darkly.

"Single women without pained, abandoned husbands like you? Now where would the fun be in that?"

That did it. For Sevastyan, that had been the final straw. The words may have been a ploy, but to have been called ‘abandoned’ for him was like being a bee in a hive that just got hit with a heavy stick. “If you vant fun you’ve picked the wrong vitch’s husband to **** vith!” the Russian growled, lunging forward to launch another attack. However, blinded by rage and pain as he was, Sevastyan hadn’t anticipated to be assaulted with the same spell. Orbs the color of a tempest in motion widened and their owner tried to evade the onslaught, but had been clipped by it instead.

White hot fire shot through his arm and spread throughout the rest of him in rippling waves. Though Sevastyan had believed himself numbed to pain from his heartbreak he was far from correct as a groan of pain escaped his pursed lips. He ran into and leaned against the opposite wall of the corridor for to balance himself. The stinging fire or electricity pulsing through his body made him completely oblivious to the fact he’d scraped his knuckles upon the roughly hewn stones.

“Flagrate!” he hissed once the pain had ebbed to where he could speak. True: the spell was best and intended for writing words of flames, but as Sevastyan tried to instruct his students it was all about one’s intent that mattered. And it was Sevastyan’s intent to cause as much pain and misery upon the other wizard as possible, preferably without resorting to spellwork that would get him into trouble for using. He’d just barely gotten out of one legal ordeal of that kind this year as it was.

But, Merlin, it was tempting as hell...

"My mistake. I suppose I assumed since your wife was rather easy you would be too," Victor retorted with dark mirth. To the wizard, this entire confrontation and scenario was little more than a game. A game of Jack in the Box, to be specific. Like a child who loved winding the lever around and around until the clown in the box popped in front of his face, so too did Victor enjoy taunting Sevastyan to the point where the clown, or in this case a possibly lethal curse, made it's way towards him.

While Victor knew he was treading on particularly thin ice, especially since the wizard before him could very easily, and likely would, hex the English out of him, but he just couldn't help himself, it seemed. Every injustice of his life and every bit of anger and seed of resentment seemed to wash away with every ounce of anger present on Sevastyan's face. Normally such a task and salvation would be attained by playing the keys of his grand piano, but at this moment there seemed to be no need. With every angry twitch, scowl formed, and word pierced, there was another note added in this symphony of destruction and melody of despair.

"Does it feel good?" Victor asked with a raised eyebrow towards Sevastyan's wand, licking his lips at the sight as though it were a treat of decadence and not a potentially lethal weapon before him. The eyes were often said to be the window to one's soul and with Sevastyan it was no exception. Born to the House of Levinthals, much of the sights he had grown accustomed to seeing, having been raised under such notions now seemed to be familiar and present upon the Russian's eyes, which only served to peak Victor's curiosity and longing to know what came next.

"Do you like the feeling of knowing that you could easily end it all, destroy everything with just a wave of your hand and a flick of your wrist?" he asked, his gaze still locked within Sevastyan's wand. "Think about it: you, my friend, are in control... It's intoxicating, isn't it? Knowing that anyone can bend to your will, everything is your's..."

The wizard grinned malevolently before leaning forward to whisper into Sevastyan's ear. "That's how I felt when I laid with your wife that night..." he trailed off with a dark cadence of laughter.

"Oh Victor... Yes, oh yes... Victor please... Touch me, darling, bring me back to life..." Victor added in a taunting manner accessorized with a smirk. "Oh how she begged for it all. I didn't know what to do with her. Except well, you know..." he snickered.

While it was likely not the wisest of moves, Victor couldn't help but snicker at Sevastyan's words. "Us"? What, are you and Amaranth so drawn apart that you too are no longer an "us" so you are in need of a replacement? No offense mate, but I don't swing that way..." he flipped his dark hair back, shaking his head. "I'm very flattered though. It's flattering to see that it's not only your wife I have this effect on."

“I vill use votever voice I damn vell vish to. Now, I vould appreciate it if you vould kindly remove your hand... unless you vant me to remove it for you...”

With an sigh of mock exasperation, Victor did as requested by his not so Comrade in Arms. Admitedly, part of the reason for his obedience at this point was fear brought along by a rather intense reality check. The hand upon Sevastyan’s shoulder had found out rather quickly from the rather strong muscles upon Sevastyan that the Russian likely wouldn’t need a wand to break Victor in half, particularly his hand. If given the choice, Victor was willing to part with any of his anatomical “assets” should a deadly curse ever come his way. But not his hands. An artist needed those. Still though, not even a boggart of his greatest fears couldn’t stop the smart alec remark from escaping Victor. “How funny, your wife couldn’t seem to keep her hands off me…”

“Tvice, for your information, before she accepted! Vhich is more than I can say for you,”

For the first time, sapphire orbs turned to slits as it appeared Sevastyan had seemed to hit a nerve. While Victor often played the part to be no more than a promiscuous artist whose role in this saga seemed to be more than the ex-lover turned player, there was a reason deep within that had been revealed to Viper, but not to her husband for Victor’s catalyst in his decision to join in this dance of doom: He was jealous of the other wizard. More than he would ever care to admit, least of all to the man he felt was responsible for his own fall from grace as well as kink in his ultimate life plan.

He and Amaranth Viper had been betrothed as small children by their families, began a relationship in the dawn of their teenage years with their courtship beginning when she was thirteen and he fourteen. The courtship continued into a possible engagement with their passage of adulthood. He had a plan, damn it! From a young age he had his life all planned out! He would follow the footsteps of his Father and forebears: work as an official in Ministry, climbing through the ranks, and dominating it all. Glory, gold, and greatness would all be his and he would be in control. On Victor’s arm would be the most perfect accessory a powerful wizard could have: a beautiful wife who would do nothing but serve him and give him the children he would need.

His life should have been flawless. Had it not been for the witch who abandoned him and his (as well as what he thought were her) desires. Perhaps if working in her own field was truly her desired path in life Victor could have forgiven her. Hell, he more or less did when they went there separate ways.

Until he heard about the wizard before him.

Victor had been with Amaranth Viper for nearly the entire length of their lives, in some form or another, and yet what he had spent that entire span of time attempting to achieve the wizard before him did so in mere months. This gave him more than enough reason to be jealous towards Sevastyan Kaminski.

“Those are pretty big words coming from a man whose wife won’t even let him tap her on the shoulder…” he muttered lowly, his eyes now looking like shards of ice getting ready to pierce something

What started off with the intention to be an apology that transitioned to a blurted out admission of jealousy now seemed to have evolved into a full-fledged war. A decades worth of pent up resentment now emerged from what had once been a cold, neutral volcano as Victor moved into dueling mode. The spell that escaped the other wizard’s lips was one Victor recognized as one meant to create words of flame, and despite his best attempts there was nothing Victor could do to prevent it. A loud hiss of pain escaped up as he felt what appeared to be liquid fire upon his chest. Vaguely, he wondered what shape the flames would create in what Victor would possibly have as a scar before yelling out his retaliation. “Bombardo Maxima!”