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WHO: Galen Marek and Melvin McGrath
TONE: Probably pretty serious
RATING: PG-13. Yes, you should drag your parents to over to supervise you reading this.
WHEN: Tonight, when everyone is asleep.
WHERE: In one of the dungeons.
WHAT: Deciding whether or not Melvin is worth learning Dark Magic.
STATUS: Ongoing!

Galen was pacing, his shoes making a faint clacking noise on the cold stone floor of the dungeon. It was cold- extremely so, if the fact his breath was visible when he breathed was any indication. But he didn't mind at all- in fact, he was used to it and preferred it. Living with Vader meant he had to grow accustomed to harsh conditions. And this was just one of the many things he'd grown used to. He felt it would add a certain amount more of a challenge to the test in determining whether Melvin was really a suitable 'apprentice'.

He rolled his eyes slightly, and he had to wonder why he was even bothering with this. He hadn't shown up to their first meeting, as he'd... gotten distracted. He felt laying low for a while was the best bet, and so he'd simply not brought it up again. Until he finally grew bored enough and decided it would make a 'fun' distraction.

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On the one hand, Melvin didn't really handle the cold well. At all.

One the other hand, shivering was a lot less embarrassing than showing up to learn the Dark Arts all bundled up, or so Melvin had eventually decided before he snuck down into the dungeons in just his usual school robes.

He couldn't help but think of what Roxanne and even Billy would think. Hell, he even thought about what Georgia would think, about how hard Galen had been judged.

Did he really want to make things socially worse for himself?

But then, he wouldn't be turning into a blood purist creep. He wasn't going to hurt anyone. It was just... Power.

"Marek?" he asked abruptly, hearing the clicking of shoes.

At hearing Melvin's voice, Galen turned to face him. "It's about time," he said irritably. "I was beginning to think you wouldn't show up."

He was fully aware of the hypocrisy, and didn't really care all that much.

Melvin scowled, a comeback on the tip of his tongue, but then he remembered he needed to be on Galen's good side.

If what they said had happened with him and the Ravenclaw prefect were true, then all the more reason not to anger him. For now, at least. (It killed him to take any perceived insult.)

"Well... I did."

Without another word, Galen reached into his robes and pulled out his wand as fast as his body could move- which was pretty damn fast. He flicked it at Melvin and said, "Stupefy!"
It was the same tactic Vader always used; catch them off guard, give them no time to react. It tested their natural reflexes. Of course since Galen could never use magic to defend himself, he'd always had to find other ways to defend against the attacks. Melvin had it easy.

Melvin might have had it easy by Galen's standards, but the boy was not good at this sort of thing -- Getting better, though, thanks to Roxanne and Amelia.

A spell came to mind instantly, and he frantically grabbed for his wand, trying to stumble out the words.

"Protego!"

"Slow," Galen said coldly. "Way too slow. If I'd have put more effort into the spell, it'd have broken through."
He lifted his wand again and this time he tapped himself on the head with it, murmuring the incantation of the disillusionment charm. It was the same tactic he'd used against Kid, and one that had always proved useful in his duels. And definitely one that ought to give this kid a real challenge. In the dim light of the dungeon, Galen was almost impossible to see, and he slowly began walking around Melvin.

"Yes, yes--"

And then he was gone. "What are you playing at, Marek?" he grumbled, trying to locate his housemate with no success.

By then, Galen was behind Melvin, and as an answer he flicked his wand at him. "Expelliarmus!" he murmured, and then followed directly up with "Incarcerous!"

Melvin swore as the spells acted, one after another, and he found himself falling to the floor as he lost balance while tied up.

"How is this going to help?"

Galen ignored the question as he dispelled the disillusionment charm and stepped forward. He felt his anger rising as he looked down on Melvin in disgust. "You," he said quietly, coldly, "are a waste of my time. You can't even protect yourself. Look at how easily overpowered you are!"

He glared at Melvin. "And you want to learn the Dark Arts? If you can't even block a few mediocre spells, how could you ever hope to master the real thing?"

He slowly pointed his wand down at Melvin, his expression one of complete disgust. "Do you even know what you've gotten yourself into? Do you even realize-"

He broke off, gripping his wand so tight his fingers turned white. Suddenly he hissed, "Crucio!"

Melvin felt anger rising in him at the insults, but he didn't speak against them, for his brain was also trying to be logical. Would his quest for power turn him into someone like this? He didn't think so, but... Was it a bet he could safely make?

And then a wand was being pointed at him, by a lunatic, and fear was added to the equation.

Within seconds, he was writing in a pain he was sure he could never describe; could never forget.

Galen held the spell for a few seconds longer, and for a brief moment he allowed himself to give so far into his hatred that he felt as if he would torture Melvin until he went insane. But all of a sudden he seemed to snap back to reality, and he jerked his wand back.

That was a mistake, and he knew it. A complete and total mistake. He'd been warned by Vader not to- he mentally smacked himself over and over. Of all the stupid things to do, using an unforgivable curse like that. On someone like Melvin of all people? It was a disgusting mistake.

A horrible feeling of dread and panic was starting to overcome him, but years of containing his emotions meant that his features remained hard and cold. His expression certainly didn't betray the feelings and war he was fighting with himself on the inside.

He flicked his wand back to Melvin and murmured a spell to undo the ropes binding him, and without another word he turned and walked quickly from the room. If he'd been in his right mind, he would have used a memory charm on Melvin. But he was too focused on getting away, too shaken to even think about it.

Melvin wanted to run after him. He really did.

Instead, going against everything he tried to be, he curled up on the dungeon floor and cried, willing the lingering pain to go away.