It's about six in the evening, the night's mist was just beginning to roll over the moor's. The lilac scent slowly drifted over my body as I lay there on a trance. The wind had a soft chill to it, making my pale skin form goosebumps. It was refreshing to know that I could attain peace by just laying there. For once, there was no bloodshed, no binding spells that could kill or torture anyone. I had been waiting this moment for six years now, ever since I had joined the Dark Lord's army I had come to find myself hating him more than I hated Harry Potter. Harry had killed one of my best friends, her name was Schuyler, and she was my soul sister. Or, at least that's what our village told us. Schuyler and I were inseparable; she knew my secrets and I hers. We had had similar brushes with death, you see, I had a major blood disease only known to the magical world. Unfortunately, the only blood type that matched mine was that of a dragon's. Schuyler's heart was failing and the doctor's could only find one that matched her's; a vampire's heart.
We had met each other during the surgery, all we could remember was that our souls found each other and just kind of bonded. We were in the same surgery room at the same time. Ever since then people couldn't keep us apart no matter how hard they'd tried. I can still remember her soft voice, her long, blonde hair, and those misty gray eyes. We slowly became part of the creatures of which had saved us from our own demise's. Schuyler was part vampire and I part dragon; never made to be true witches ever again.
I sighed heavily, my hands gripping at the moist grass. It was about to rain, but did I care? No. I didn't. I heard a loud crack that seemed to split the air. My body tensed as I realized that this could only mean one thing – the Dark Lord and his Death Eater's had come to me at last. I grumbled and sat up, my shoulder's thrusting upward making it seem like they were pulling me up. My head rolled lazily to the side, my eyes still closed. I might have joined Lord Voldemort's army, but he'd never seen me. Which, for no real reason, surprised me. Just listening to the ground's vibration's I could tell that there was at least twenty five men surrounding me...and one rat.
"Willow," Voldemort's slightly nasally voice called my name. I opened my eyes, my slitted pupils narrowing as I smiled almost hatefully at him.
"Aye?" I answered, cocking my head to the other side as I stood up slowly. My eye's glanced over everyone standing around me. Bellatrix stood glowering at me, her arms crossed. I recognized everyone here except for one group. My guess was at least five to possibly eight men were in it. My eyes caught the glimpse of one man. This man was tall and lithe, dark and wild. His energy seemed to pop and snap with a fierce energy, and he was staring directly at me.
No, wait.
Through me.
My breath caught in my throat as the tension in the air rose, the friction making the air hotter. For a moment everything except him froze.
I stood stiffly as I starred in this woman's eyes. Her eye's were silver with speckles of green filtering around her pupils. I could hear Fenrir's soft muttering behind me, I peered over my shoulder's at him, my brown eyes glaring into him. He shut up almost instantly. As I turned my head around so I could face her again I caught a whiff of something sweet; intoxicating. Vanilla and...roses? Yeah, that was it. I looked over at her, my curiosity peaked. She had the body of a dancer, short yet built delicately. I looked her up and down, noting that she was wearing spandex shorts that cut about mid-thigh, she had a red, skin tight shirt on that fit her shape so becomingly. Voldemort took a step forward, his wand forcing her eyes to meet his. She sneered at him.
"Now, don't look so angry at me Willow Locksworth, it's rude. Have you retrieved the sword yet?" He demanded her. I noticed her brows furrowing as she turned toward him defiantly.
"You just assigned this task to me an hour ago, Thomas," She started. My eyes widened at her boldness. Voldemort's wand faltered before he flicked it at her. A bolt of blue knocked her back a few feet. I smirked at her rebelliousness. Oddly enough it seemed to draw me in.
"Scabior, it seems as though I must insist that you take Willow under your wing," he said with a fooling smile. I smiled back, quite pleased with this.
"What?! No. No!" She interrupted with a shriek. I saw her storming toward us, her eyes hiding a fiery anger. She grabbed Voldemort's robes and brought his face inches away from hers. "I have never failed you, have I?" She hissed.