Working title: God's gifts to women
"Professor Dumbledore," Hagrid said as he walked tinto the Headmaster's room. "May I have a word?"
Dumbledore looked surprised. "But of course, sit down, Hagrid." He pointed at a chair with his wand, at which the chair in question slid backwards to make room for the half-giant. "What's the matter?"
Hagrid cleared his throat. "Well, er... I was wonderin'... Wha' should I do with you Sirius Black's motorbike? I don't want to keep a bike that belonged to a murdrin' traitor. It jus' doesn't feel right. And I can' just give it back, because of where Black is at the moment. It's not like he'll need it now."
Dumbledore sat back in his chair, his eyes fixed on Hagrid. "I see," he said. "What do you suggest we do with it?"
The ginat needed some time to think, but then fixed his beady eyes on the Headmaster and suggested: "Maybe I can go abroad and sell it? No one needs ter know it's Black's."
Dumbledore raised his eyebrows. "What if he comes to you to get back what's his?"
Hagrid looked dumbstruck. "H-how do yeh mean, Professor? He got a life sentence in Azkaban, he won' be back!"
Dumbledore nodded slowly. "Alright then, do what you think is best."
Hagrids face cleared and his wild, tangled beard formed into a thankful smile. "Thank yeh, Professor. I will take care o' the matter immediately. Can I be spared from me duties for a week?"
Dumbledore smiled for the first time during their conversation. "Do you insist on selling the motorbike?" Without waiting for an answer, he started humming a lively tune, his eyes focussing on a point a little to Hagrid's left. The Gatekeeper looked at him for a moment, not sure of what to do - in the end, he shrugged and left for his cabin.
*~*~*
It was a quiet night. The demon population of Sunnydale seemed to have lost interest for WIlly's bar - a fact that he wasn't too happy about. Then the glass beads of the fly cyrtain at the entrance rattled, announcing a new customer. Even though he had seen quite a few weird looking demons in his life, Willy's eyes grew wide when he took in the man's form. The man was at least head and shoulders taller than a tall man and at least 5 times as wide. His eyes were black and shiny like beetles amidst the wild tangles of his long hair and beard. He was wearing a moleskin coat and large boots. The man just looked too big to be allowed. He walked up to the bar and sat down on a stool, which give loud protesting creak.
"Good evening," the man said in a heavy accent. "Do yeh have a pint of butterbeer for me?"
Willy came closer, his eyes flashing from side to side to check for possible escape routes in case this one got angry. He looked friendly enough, but you could never be sure with these foreigners...
"Er... I'm sorry... We... we don't have that brand here. But I could give you another brand if you like."
To his great relief the man nodded.
"That's alright, give me a Muggle beer. I've never had one of those yet."
As Willy walked from the man to get the beer, he shook his head, frowning. What had that man called it? A Muggle beer? He wasn't sure what that meant. In the end he decided with a shrug of his shoulders that it was probably some British slang for 'American'.
"There you are," he said, handing the huge man his beer. The giant took the glass and threw it backwards in one swig.
"Hmm... not bad... Just a little low in the volume... Can I have five more please?"
"Certainly" Willy replied with a smile. This evening wasn't turning out so badly. He would charge the huge man extra. It wasn't like foreigners really know what was normal around there, so he'd probably get away with it.
He had just gone to fetch the beers when the curtain rattled once again.
"Hey Willy, whose motorbike is that outside?" a voice said. Willy looked up.
"Oh, hi Spike. I don't know whose bike it is, why?"
"Well, it's a beauty and I've wanted a bike like that for a while, so I wanted to know who owns it." Spike sat down on a stool and grinned evilly. "I'd like to er... talk to the owner. Maybe I can persuade him to sell it to me. A double O-neg, Willy."
"Yeh're in luck," the giant said. Spike looked curious.
"Why is that?" he asked.
"The bike is mine, and I'm here to sell it," the huge man simply said.
Spike took his drink and casually strolled over to the man. "As you heard I'm interested in buying. My name is Spike."
"Well hello, Spike, I'm Hagrid. Rubeus Hagrid. Let's go outside to look at the bike. We can talk about how much you're willing to give fer it." Hagrid emptied the last of the five glasses that were standing in front of him, threw way too much money on the counter and walked towards the entrance, not looking back.
Spike took the excess of money from the counter, grinning evilly at Willy and stuffing the money is his duster pocket as he followed his fellow Brit.
***
He started the engine and let it roar. The blond vampire grinned when the roar mad a few people down the street stop and stare. Driving off, he howled wolfishly. That Hagrid didn't drive a hard bargain. He practically gave this bike to me. Must really have wanted to rid himself of it.
This was the best feeling there was. The wind through your hair, a million places to go and no one to tell you what to do.
He drove out of Sunnydale and took the road he knew no one ever took. He needed to be alone with his new asset. Suddenly he noticed a small switch on the engine. It was dark red and it had two red wings painted around it. He flipped the switch nonchalantly, curious to see what it was for.
For a moment, nothing happened. He sighed disappointedly. That's when it happened: the nose of the bike started coming up. He held on, eyes wide in surprise. "What the..." he said to himself. Then he felt the bike straighten again. He hated himself for it, but he was relieved... At least he was until he looked down, which was the moment he realized he was flying over the trees...
~to be continued~
"Professor Dumbledore," Hagrid said as he walked tinto the Headmaster's room. "May I have a word?"
Dumbledore looked surprised. "But of course, sit down, Hagrid." He pointed at a chair with his wand, at which the chair in question slid backwards to make room for the half-giant. "What's the matter?"
Hagrid cleared his throat. "Well, er... I was wonderin'... Wha' should I do with you Sirius Black's motorbike? I don't want to keep a bike that belonged to a murdrin' traitor. It jus' doesn't feel right. And I can' just give it back, because of where Black is at the moment. It's not like he'll need it now."
Dumbledore sat back in his chair, his eyes fixed on Hagrid. "I see," he said. "What do you suggest we do with it?"
The ginat needed some time to think, but then fixed his beady eyes on the Headmaster and suggested: "Maybe I can go abroad and sell it? No one needs ter know it's Black's."
Dumbledore raised his eyebrows. "What if he comes to you to get back what's his?"
Hagrid looked dumbstruck. "H-how do yeh mean, Professor? He got a life sentence in Azkaban, he won' be back!"
Dumbledore nodded slowly. "Alright then, do what you think is best."
Hagrids face cleared and his wild, tangled beard formed into a thankful smile. "Thank yeh, Professor. I will take care o' the matter immediately. Can I be spared from me duties for a week?"
Dumbledore smiled for the first time during their conversation. "Do you insist on selling the motorbike?" Without waiting for an answer, he started humming a lively tune, his eyes focussing on a point a little to Hagrid's left. The Gatekeeper looked at him for a moment, not sure of what to do - in the end, he shrugged and left for his cabin.
*~*~*
It was a quiet night. The demon population of Sunnydale seemed to have lost interest for WIlly's bar - a fact that he wasn't too happy about. Then the glass beads of the fly cyrtain at the entrance rattled, announcing a new customer. Even though he had seen quite a few weird looking demons in his life, Willy's eyes grew wide when he took in the man's form. The man was at least head and shoulders taller than a tall man and at least 5 times as wide. His eyes were black and shiny like beetles amidst the wild tangles of his long hair and beard. He was wearing a moleskin coat and large boots. The man just looked too big to be allowed. He walked up to the bar and sat down on a stool, which give loud protesting creak.
"Good evening," the man said in a heavy accent. "Do yeh have a pint of butterbeer for me?"
Willy came closer, his eyes flashing from side to side to check for possible escape routes in case this one got angry. He looked friendly enough, but you could never be sure with these foreigners...
"Er... I'm sorry... We... we don't have that brand here. But I could give you another brand if you like."
To his great relief the man nodded.
"That's alright, give me a Muggle beer. I've never had one of those yet."
As Willy walked from the man to get the beer, he shook his head, frowning. What had that man called it? A Muggle beer? He wasn't sure what that meant. In the end he decided with a shrug of his shoulders that it was probably some British slang for 'American'.
"There you are," he said, handing the huge man his beer. The giant took the glass and threw it backwards in one swig.
"Hmm... not bad... Just a little low in the volume... Can I have five more please?"
"Certainly" Willy replied with a smile. This evening wasn't turning out so badly. He would charge the huge man extra. It wasn't like foreigners really know what was normal around there, so he'd probably get away with it.
He had just gone to fetch the beers when the curtain rattled once again.
"Hey Willy, whose motorbike is that outside?" a voice said. Willy looked up.
"Oh, hi Spike. I don't know whose bike it is, why?"
"Well, it's a beauty and I've wanted a bike like that for a while, so I wanted to know who owns it." Spike sat down on a stool and grinned evilly. "I'd like to er... talk to the owner. Maybe I can persuade him to sell it to me. A double O-neg, Willy."
"Yeh're in luck," the giant said. Spike looked curious.
"Why is that?" he asked.
"The bike is mine, and I'm here to sell it," the huge man simply said.
Spike took his drink and casually strolled over to the man. "As you heard I'm interested in buying. My name is Spike."
"Well hello, Spike, I'm Hagrid. Rubeus Hagrid. Let's go outside to look at the bike. We can talk about how much you're willing to give fer it." Hagrid emptied the last of the five glasses that were standing in front of him, threw way too much money on the counter and walked towards the entrance, not looking back.
Spike took the excess of money from the counter, grinning evilly at Willy and stuffing the money is his duster pocket as he followed his fellow Brit.
***
He started the engine and let it roar. The blond vampire grinned when the roar mad a few people down the street stop and stare. Driving off, he howled wolfishly. That Hagrid didn't drive a hard bargain. He practically gave this bike to me. Must really have wanted to rid himself of it.
This was the best feeling there was. The wind through your hair, a million places to go and no one to tell you what to do.
He drove out of Sunnydale and took the road he knew no one ever took. He needed to be alone with his new asset. Suddenly he noticed a small switch on the engine. It was dark red and it had two red wings painted around it. He flipped the switch nonchalantly, curious to see what it was for.
For a moment, nothing happened. He sighed disappointedly. That's when it happened: the nose of the bike started coming up. He held on, eyes wide in surprise. "What the..." he said to himself. Then he felt the bike straighten again. He hated himself for it, but he was relieved... At least he was until he looked down, which was the moment he realized he was flying over the trees...
~to be continued~