DEAL WITH THE DEVIL

[CALEB BRODY DOLOHOV]

Caleb twitched in his sleep, cringing and rocking his head slowly from side to side. A war raged silently in between his ears, swirling up from the empty holes in his heart right to the spaces between his synapses. He could ignore the mistakes he'd made in his life while awake; he could push away the thoughts of failure and fear of rejection. But while he was asleep those things came back to haunt him. The things ignored and kept at bay came rushing forward all at once when his guard came down. Sleeping, to him, was the most dangerous and dreaded thing that happened all day.

Snapping his eyes open, Caleb's mouth opened, a silent scream strangling him as the sheets entangled his limbs, pulling him back down to the bed like some dreadful kracken's tentacles. Ripping the sweat soaked silk from his body, Caleb stumbled away from his bed and fell forward, resting his palms on his dresser, hunched forward, head hanging towards the dark oak surface. Peeking towards the glass, he observed his body in the mirror. Caleb had strong arms, a toned chest, and, well, a great body. He had everything anybody could want. He was an heir to a million dollar estate, had a trust fund that was unreasonably large, and was a married man who could still get any woman he wanted.

But something ... Something was missing inside of him.

Pushing away from the bureau, Caleb finally found the motivation to put his clothing on and go out to the classroom. He had promises to be there in exactly ... Thirty minutes. Ugh. The things he did in order to keep his standing at the school. He didn't even need to work. He only did it because, well, he got bored otherwise and it also gave him direct access to the minds of the children at Hogwarts. Which was a very good thing indeed.

He wore a blue-grey sweater vest with a white, linen shirt beneath it click. His jeans were dark and his shoes were comfortable looking dark brown loafers. Caleb was in his most comfortable lounge wear, which still looked like it cost about as much as your average apartment's monthly rent. After having spritzed himself with a gentle dusting of cologne, the man gave himself a once over and nodded, knowing he looked absoltely dashing. He then walked out in to the classroom and made his way towards the Great Hall, which was never too far.

During the weekend, the children flooded the halls and there was barely a place you could find solitude. With a sigh, Caleb took his seat at the Professor's table and he noticed his entrance had earned him the attention of many. That alone had brought a smirk to his features as he began to pile food onto his plate, allowing his thoughts to consume him.

[NOVEMBER ELISE WELLINGTON]

OUTFIT

November had mixed feelings about the weekends. She of course liked being able to wear whatever she wanted and be wherever she wanted to be, but the problem was, the same was true for everyone. Her fellow students were everywhere, like an infestation of termites. They crawled around, eating up all the empty space, and she hated it.

November was a solitary creature, she liked to be left alone. Other people were a bore, they were stupid and ridiculous. She was the top of most of her classes, had no friends--as they were simply another energy suck, and liked it that way. Normally she ate early to avoid everyone but that morning, she'd actually slept in and was eating with the rest of her house.

Despicable.

She picked a seat near the teachers table, as fewer people sat at that end and glanced up as the hot DADA professor took his seat. He always looked dashing, like he'd stepped out of a painting or magazine. November didn't give dating much thought, though she'd had a few flings with her classmates when she needed it and they were desperate enough not to mind her sullen attitude.

November heaped some eggs onto her plate and rubbed her leg lightly. She was a little cold, she should have worn tights or a sweater. The warm fall weather was over.

[CALEB BRODY DOLOHOV]

The steel grey eyes wandered over the familiar faces of the present students who occupied the seats and scoffed down their food. Caleb taught the majority of them, except those who'd foolishly passed on choosing Defense Against the Dark Arts after sixth year. While he was more of a fan of the Dark Arts, he gathered that showing the students how to protect themselves against it was a wise choice. Hell, it was better than the option of potions master.

Surprisingly, Caleb had been the first DADA professor for many years to stick to the job. After his year long stay, it had dawned on him that students had been making pretty bets on how short his run as the professor would be. As amusing as it was, how could Caleb blame them? For the previous seven years the students of Hogwarts had been introduced to a new DADA teacher annually and for a long time, none of them held down the job for longer than a year. That was until he had shown up and decided to put his mark on DADA.

Skimming the tips of his soft digits across the short stubble that had suddenly grown on his cheek and chin due to his lack of shaving, Caleb's mind had evidently been elsewhere as he so blatantly ignored the food that settled on to the plate in front of him. Strangely the only thing that occupied his mind nowadays was the thought of his golden haired wife who was due to make her weekly visit that afternoon. The thought had knocked the air right out of him and releasing a growl under his breath, Caleb abruptly pushed himself to his feet which had only earned him a few curious stares.

Despite his mind being clouded, Caleb's eyes fell on November Wellington, the Ravenclaw who'd have fitted better in Slytherin. She was a curious sight in that blue dress and those brown boots. Arching his brow, Caleb made a bee-line for her. She could offer him a distraction but first, he'd have to force a response out of her. He had sought through his mind for a few words to throw at her as he took each powerful step towards her.

The walk hadn't been too long and with tight lips, Caleb looked down at her with a blank expression. Clearing his throat, he finally glowered down at the younger girl, "Miss Wellington, I've been meaning to speak with you. I must say, your recent work in my class has been nothing more than disappointing. Care to explain?" Placing a firm hand on the table top, Caleb's eyes never left November's and despite his words dripping with nothing but utter lies, Caleb felt he needed to get some sort of response to distract his clouded mind.

[NOVEMBER ELISE WELLINGTON]

ooc- technically this is 19+ years since harry was in school, so there might have been a DADA that lasted for a bit--or not lol.


November blinked up from her plate and into the eyes of the Dark Arts Professor. He had come from nowhere and she was a bit surprised to see him. An eyebrow arched lightly as he started to speak. Of course, November was doing excellently in his class and everyone knew it, so obviously he wanted some sort of reaction. However, this was a horrid choice of student. November didn't have a large capacity to feel, she never had reactions, only cool, calculated responses based on her vast bank of knowledge. People and their petty issues were boring.

November said nothing and put a forkful of egg in her mouth and chewed slowly, blinking at him in an empty manner. Finally, she stopped chewing and dabbed the corners of her mouth with a napkin. "I'm sure I don't know what you mean professor." Unless maybe this was a ploy to get her bed. Professor Alves had a reputation for that among the students and frankly Professor Dolohov had been mentioned too on occasion. November had no real interest, but she wouldn't complain she supposed.

November regarded him lightly before grabbing a piece of bacon and sticking it in her mouth, ripping off the crunchy end delicately with her teeth. Again, blinking blankly-- mostly because he seemed riled and she liked to watch people squirm.