Author's Note: So this is my entry as the keeper for the seeker position for the Chudley Cannons
Genre: Suspense.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything
Slowly
The night was dark as I crept along the street making sure that I went slowly. It was important to move slowly so as not to alert anyone to my presence, I wouldn't really want anything to happen before it was time.
Months and months' worth of planning had gone into this little excursion plenty of blood sweat and tears. It had been difficult to allow them to see that this was something that I had to do and had to do alone, but eventually after using my singular brand of persuasion on a few the rest came to understand my way of seeing things.
As I passed dark house after dark house I couldn't help but think of the muggles asleep mere feet from me, foolishly peaceful in the knowledge that they were safe behind their thick, brick walls. How wrong they were, they didn't even know what was living amongst them.
Suddenly the right house came into view and as I drew closer I could see a figure moving in the downstairs window. My heart rate picked up and my palms grew moist as the nerves and adrenaline began to chase each other around my body. The sitting room window went dark and I lost sight of the figure but I imagined that whoever it was had gone up to bed.
The wooden gate was cool and rough beneath my fingertips and swung soundlessly inwards on well-oiled hinges. I began to move up the path, slowly as before, eyes flicking between all the windows looking for my target. This was important, so very important. I must not be seen before the proper moment.
When reaching the door I looked with disgust at the potted flowers around the door and, after checking that the street was still empty, I pulled out my wand and whispered a few spells. First disabling the wards that my target thought would protect and alert him and then unlocking the feeble muggle lock.
The house, like the street, was dark but not cold. Looking in to the sitting room as I passed I could see the still glowing embers of the fire that my target had just recently extinguished, they bathed the room in an odd, eerie red glow. It almost seemed to pulse like a warning, but a warning received far too late.
The dining room and kitchen were equally as empty but I checked both to be sure that my target would not escape before I had the chance to complete this vital mission. A small dog was asleep by the door in the kitchen, twitching slightly as it dreamt, but I was more silent than the dead and was able to glide slowly past the little pup without waking him.
I had to hand it to my vict- target he kept a really good house and it made it so much easier for me to creepy up on him. Not a single stair creaked on my way up and everything looked impeccably clean and very well decorated.
Every door was closed on the top landing and it thrilled me to play this little game of Russian roulette. Behind door number one was a very well equipped bathroom, although it looked more muggle than magical. Behind door number two was a pink room with a crib in the middle, I glided closer to look at the baby girl sleeping there. Her head was dusted with dark hair and she looked so small, so fragile as she lay there completely at my mercy. My grip on the wand in my hand tightened involuntarily but I had to resist the urge. My task was clear and I couldn't afford to draw any attention to myself. Behaving as I did the last time would only alert them to my presence sooner.
Slowly, reluctantly I left the room, backwards, not taking my eyes off the sleeping little girl until I closed the door behind me and turned to the last wooden door behind which slept my target. I went forward and the anticipation, the pure adrenaline, grew. I was practically shaking as I slowly grasped the cold metal of the door knob. It turned as easily, and as soundlessly, as the rest of the doors in the house. It swung open to reveal my target and his wife sleeping peacefully.
The movement of the door must have disturbed the air around them because the wife stirred, her senses finely attuned to wake at the slightest sound or motion so that she could protect her baby. She sat up, groggily at first, but she must have sensed me because she turned quickly.
I delighted at the scream that clogged her throat as she groped frantically for her husband, shaking him awake. He pushed himself into a sitting position frantic but unaware of the true severity of the situation.
He turned and, in the light from the streetlamp outside the window, I could see the dawning realisation of what was really happening on his face. Emotions flew across his face as he reacted in a few seconds. Terror, anger, worry and finally a steely determination settled on his face.
Slowly he climbed out of bed, not even trying to reach for the wand at his bedside because he knew that such an action would be pointless, my own wand was trained on him and he would not have the chance to move.
"Voldemort."
I could feel the smile curve my lips, unnatural but such a good feeling.
"Avada Kedavra."
You probably all guessed who it was before the end aha, but I hope I did okay!
Much Love, MaryandMerlin x