As Albiorix's finger tips pressed against the rough skin of Hawke's temples he felt his conscious sink to the dark depths of the Auror's unconscious. He was falling for a few moments, dark grey tendrils of smoke rippling around him endlessly until it rippled and parted. A scene finally forming before him, much clearer than he expected, a memory, rather than a dream. A memory he was already familiar with. "<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#b30000">Avada Kadava!</span>" the scene rippled a slight, as if seen through a window of water, disorienting around the edges but otherwise the 'memory' was, perfect. Albiorix was impressed. "<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#b30000">I'm nothing like you!</span>" To which Albiorix just echoed an ominous chuckle as the scene began to become engulfed in the dark shrouds before opening up a new.<br/><br/>The scenes kept jumping from one to the next, Hawke's mind no doubt vulnerable and afraid, trying to find areas of comfort in memories past but seemed to be having great difficulty finding a place to settle. A mother cooing at her child, two brothers fighting, Hawke's initiation. Each one passed as quickly as the last, appearing through the fog for just a moment before plunging back away. Albiorix was ready to release him, having gleamed very little that he didn't already know before he found a scene much more intimate than the others. A lover. Albiorix tried to gleam a look at the face of the man whom Hawke was sleeping with but it was strangely disoriented, out of focus, a blur to him. As if the man had tried to erase his features with great effort and even now, with his walls down, it fought to unremember him. And as Albiorix remained watching the two, silently whisper to each other in an affectionate way, he knew why. He could feel Hawke's despair and anger filling the space, pushing the man away in a desperate act to prevent any further hurt.<br/><br/>But before Albiorix could see how the scene would end, he was pulled up and out of the man's mind, his unconscious fading and so did the fog until Albi found himself once more standing inside the small shack of a home in London.<br/><br/>Albiorix didn't offer a response to the man's angry words, snapping out at him for infiltrating his mind. Simply turning away, his mask nowhere in sight now but his dark hood was still pulled up around his face, covering it in slight shadow. He moved towards the mantle, slowly plucking the ring from its surface, not quite sure why but the dark objects compulsion seemed to still have an effect on him. Though he resisted putting it on for now, turning back to Hawke to try to distract his mind. "<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#a64dff">If I wanted you dead I would have left you to die a very slow and painful death at the hands of my darling step-mother.</span>" He frowned a bit as he crossed his arms as he slowly went to sit down on the rickety wooden chair close by. His emerald gaze holding to Hawke. "<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#a64dff">You're more useful to me alive, now. Nothing more than a tool in order to strike down this want to be group of death eaters. I tire of war between Wizards. But don't take my hesitation to kill you as weakness. Once you've served your purpose I won't shed a single bead of sweat performing the killing curse on you.</span>"<br/><br/>He said so confidently, but for some strange reason, he felt an uncertainty. It was difficult not feeling for the Suror in front of him. Likely, a sour side effect of this damned mental link they now shared. The lines were becoming muddy and unclear. Albiorix shook his head, pushing the thought from his mind as he turned the ring over in his hand a few times. "<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#a64dff">You may stay for a few more hours but as soon as the sun comes up you should make your way to the ministry. And don't think of double crossing me, if you try to tip them off to where I am, I assure you there will be consequences.</span>"<br/><br/>Albiorix turned his eyes away from Hawke as he flicked his wand, a fire appearing from nothing within the mantle, casting shadows that moved as if dancing to an eerie silent song across the small room. "<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#a64dff">I did what I could for the cut, given a day or two to heal naturally those at St. Mungo's should be able to finally heal it through magic. Nasty little thing, mother.</span>" He chuckled, leaning back in his chair as he slowly thought over the last few events of the day, wondering, what he was to do now. His quest for revenge seemed strangely trivial now that he was in possession of his mother's ring. But there were still three people who he intended to kill, he couldn't let this quest end. But for now, he needed to switch focus. Work on undoing this dark magic that now compelled him with this ring. and then ensure that the ministry worked to destroy the newest nuisance in the wizarding community.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#a64dff"> <i>Perhaps...</i></span>