The entrance to the cave is a pitch-black abyss, a ferocious mouth, forming silent screams of agony or maybe more than just cruel love songs - because why else would the darkness be so tantalizing, luring Nikita into its clammy depths? Nearly as if it was a siren's mouth but there are no rose-tinted lips, no pearly teeth, only hard, dard rocks and murkiness.

Why would Nikita want to enter the cave? What is tempting him so much that his toes are tingling and his heartbeat is as quick as if he was listening to Rachmaninoff's second piano concerto?

The answer is quite simple: It's the desire he still hasn't managed to direct at a certain topic, trying to use it for studying, baking, crocheting, smiling, writing poems, drawing,... He's always failed terribly (except for baking, Nikita's pretty good at it, considering he hasn't known what he's been doing, resulting in a more than decent strawberry-almond-cake); he really can't draw, isn't able to portray the haunting images in his mind and his desperate attempts of using the restless energy, which is swirling in him like a swarm of wasps, for studying have resulted in senseless waste of time. He hasn't been able to concentrate at all, fidgeting around all the time and disturbing the diligent Gryffindor, who's even decided to sit with Mercurius Avery instead, who's of course flirted with the boy as if he wouldn't ever get the chance to open his mouth again because Avery is one of those teens, who're always horny and don't care about gender but only about the fact, that what he's doing isn't rape (only because Avery isn't the brightest, he isn't a dumb arse who does things with people, who don't want it to happen).

The Gryffindor's rather stayed with Avery, who's been quite bold and getting on his, well, victim's nerves, than with Nikita, so you know how immensely twitchy he's been the whole fucking time since Tom's lit up his heart with Apollo's golden fire.

And because passion is burning in Nikita's heart, it won't be dark in the cave, will it? After all it's godly fire and Apollo can't let him down now, after tormenting him for days, after getting his blood to boil, his breath to accelerate and his fingers to prickle.

But when Nikita enters the hollow, there's no difference to the outside regarding the lightness, and to be honest, Nikita's a little bit disappointed because he's totally expected the air to be littered with golden glitter or his chest to shine like the sun or at least like some especially bright candle but it merely looks like this will be another bear dream, except a little less angsty because Nikita's vision's working perfectly fine even though he shouldn't be able to see anything and there's no glowing glitter howering in the air.

Tentatively, he steps forward, eager to make not more sounds than necessary - just like always. Nikita's often dreaming the same dreams, living through them again and again, already knowing the end - the bear will maul him no matter how careful he is, he'll drown in music and he'll just die in general, over and over again.

Nikita hasn't a problem with dying though, maybe because he's dreamt so often of his own death or because his mother's died, which is terrible and sad, yes, but in Nikita's memory, she's near to perfection because of this, with her silky, silky hair and sparkling ice-blue eyes, her wind chime laughter and warm hugs. 

In death, people you've been close with are suddenly only good anymore, nobody wants to stain the remembrance of a dear person; Nikita remembers  the soft curve of Maria's cherry-red lips, not how angry she could get, sneering at everybody and everything, he remembers her gentle goodnight kisses, her warm breath on his forehead, when she's been gracing him with motherly love but he doesn't remember how annoying her habbit of not putting her shoes where they've belonged has been - and if Nikita recalls anything not so perfect about her, he does it adoringly, because she's his mother and he loves her, so he'll keep even her bad sides in a loving embrace and only sometimes joke with old friends of the family about Maria, their dear Masha, and the good old times, although even then, her positive traits are overweighing.

You're really having Masha's bone structure, boy, she's been such a beautiful woman...

But the nasty temper, she's had! Remember, when she's shot a shoe after you, Vasily? After you've disagreed with her in... What has it been? Politics? Her job?

Oh, Masha really coulnd't cook but this stew is even worse than hers, how've you managed this, Vasily?

Your mother's had the exactly same expression when thinking, boy! Remarkable, how alike you sometimes look...

Now that Maria's dead, everybody speaks more positively about her, when Vasily's friends haven't visited for a long time and Vasily himself hasn't joked about his wife either, Nikita totally forgets about all of his mother's flaws - then she's perfect in his memories, seeming more like the goddess of mothers than an actual human being.

Wouldn't it be funny, if the real gods've never gotten in this state of divinity because they haven't ever died? Because they haven't been kind at all or very seldom at least, so even if they'd have departed this life others wouldn't have kept them in their memories adoringly but gossiped about them and their cruel actions, forgetting about all the miracles they've performed to help and support, until there's only a rotten shadow left of them, all of their pristine glimmer brushed off to show their core - or is it merely what those who're left want to see?

To Nikita, this truly is amusing and he feels good when he thinks about his own death because it's pushing his self esteem quite a lot when he asks himself if people will remember him negatively or not and he comes to the conclusion that in contrary to gods, he's been nice to most, always greeting, always smiling when necessary - because even a forced smile is a smile. And he's trying, yes, he indeed is, but it's just hard. Smiling isn't easy and he's practicing, so please-

Oh, wouldn't it be funny, if Nikita'd perfect his smiles and die and leave positive reminiscenes, making himself a god and looking down at all those who've deemed themselves divine but trembling under his icy glare because he deserves to be here, he's worked to be here, towering over the average humans, while they're remembering this pale, lonely boy, who's wished them a nice day on this one occassion when they've been really down so politely and nicely, that they're smiling when recalling it?

Nikita continues his way until the bear finally comes in sight, its fur of rich mahagony, claws black and white just like the teeth which are bared, shimmering in the not existent light. Heavy snores are emitting from the majestic animal and usually, the plot of his dream would get Nikita to try to touch the bear without waking it up even though he only wants to stay away from it and remain safe but today Nikita wants to touch the bear, wants to dig his fingers deeply into the dark, thick fur and run his fingers over the threatening claws.

It's his desire to be in contact with the bear, to wake it and maybe - yes, maybe the danger of getting torn to pieces by it isn't something Nikita has to tolerate when being close to it but the goal.

And now, his chest really is ablaze, golden flames are licking out of his ribcage, finally overcoming the bony bars of their prison and finding their destination, golden light gracing ivory and ebony, glowing bright enough to force the bear to open its eyes, black holes glaring at Nikita, sharp teeth shimmering golden and then-

Nikita bolts up in his bed, his heart beating eratically, breath accelerated, bed sheets bunched around his legs, moist with his sweat. His fingers are tingling as if they'd touched the bear, not the creepy light which's somehow managed to come out of his chest - but it's been a dream and he's already dreamt weirder things, so he shouldn't complain.

While calming himself down a bit, Nikita's observing the dorm, looking if somebody's noticed his violent start in the day but everything is like always, Abraxas is facing Tom's bed while sleeping, always ready to obey Tom's orders, Avery's mumbling something to himself in his slumber, Lestrange isn't seen anywhere because he's always sleeping in the library for no obvious reason and the glorious Tom Riddle himself is lying in his bed in embryo position, sligthly crinkling his nose right now because of something he's dreaming (he's doing this quite often, Tom's dreams don't seem to be the happiest or most comfortable).

But even though everything is like always, everything is different because Nikita isn't starting to dress himself into his school uniform to be the first at breakfast - in fact, he doesn't even plan to attend it at all.

Because Nikita's finally found out 

at what to direct his desire

-

and now he craves the piano.