Van Helsing and the Seven Horcruxes
Chapter 2
"I'm sure this is some kind of sin,"
"Don't worry, God will forgive us!"
(Carl and Van Helsing while breaking into a mausoleum in order to hide Frankenstein.)
"I can't believe we are out in the middle of nowhere!" the Friar groused.
"Carl, what's bothering you?" Van Helsing turned to his friend. They were someplace in Scotland, not that they knew where, exactly, all their maps were ancient. Carl was always on about that particular subject.
"I wish we had a modern map! I just don't understand how we can get anywhere without a modern map!"
"The map we have was made in 1988," Van Helsing pointed out.
"Of course it was, and terribly made by the way. Whoever did it got England mixed with Ireland!" Carl glared.
"No! you have got to be kidding me!" Van Helsing rolled his eyes; sarcasm was evident in his voice.
"Oh, stop mocking me, it isn't my fault the idiot didn't know a thing about geology!"
"Geography, Carl! It's called Geography!"
"I knew that!"
"Sure you did…"
"But I did!"
"Very well, Mr. Know-it-all, you tell me where we are,"
"We are near the North Sea, probably a few days from Wick,"
"What do you mean by 'few'?"
"A week,"
"A WEEK!"
"Stop yelling, you want those Vampires to know we're here?"
"VAMPIRES! No one said anything about THOSE!"
"That's because you always wig out on me! Now, shut up before I do it for you,"
"Fine," Carl humhped.
Van Helsing was glad that he brought Carl along, ever since their first foray into Transylvania all those years ago, Carl had become better at being a 'field man'. The only problem was, that none of the memories returned. Van Helsing knew that once had a life other than what he was leading at the moment; it would be nice to have those memories back. But, he had made new memories, and he figured that as long as he didn't lose that – than this life would do just fine.
"Still, why are we here?" Carl asked.
"We need to find someone by the name of Harry Potter…"
Currently, Harry James Potter was sitting in his room on Privet Drive; the summer had been just as bad as the last one, and he wished he could have stayed with the Weasley's, however, he had still been underage at that time. So, he had whiled away his time at his Aunt's and Uncle's house. To be tormented by his night time visions of Voldemort.
Harry had woken up two days prior to a vision, but this one was different. Instead of innocents being murdered and tortured by the Dark wizard; this time, a man dressed in black, with muggle guns and knives had attacked and killed almost all the wizards. Only Lucius Malfoy, Bellatrix Lestrange, Narcissa Malfoy, Draco Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, Knott, and Pettigrew escaped. Snape hadn't been there, but he could have been sent away or something.
Harry sighed; he couldn't get the figure out of his head! He didn't see the figures face and he had sent out letters to his friends and to Dumbledore. But he had yet to get any reply. He would just have to wait a bit longer, not that he had a choice in the matter.
As he gazed out the window; a speck in the robin blue sky caught his attention. It was a few minutes till his snow white owl, Hedwig, alighted on the window sill. She carried a letter. Harry gently took it from her and gave her a treat for a job well done.
Harry opened the note; it gave him nothing to go on. Harry wadded up the note before going back to his studying; he knew that he'd have one heck of a year coming up and he needed to be ready for it. With that thought in his head, he scratched the last sentence off his potions essay and began once again. He had to get it right the first time!
"Well, that didn't turn up a thing," Remus muttered.
"Nothing like this has shown up in any of the Auror's files,"
"Well, whoever it was must be a muggle – with the muggle fire arms and everything. At least that is something," Remus sighed. Arthur and Remus walked down abandoned hallways of Hogwarts, school of witchcraft and wizardry. Summer always found the school abandoned except for the care take, Argus Filch, and some Professor's.
Remus found himself reminiscing of his days here as a Professor himself; he had loved that job and he wished he still had it. But he knew he would never get another teaching job again. He was a Werewolf after all, no one in their right minds would give him a job. Well, Albus Dumbledore was known to be off his rocker half the time, so, maybe he wasn't in his right mind, but that hardly mattered.
Once the two got to the headmasters office; they were asked in and they took seats. Albus sat behind his desk; he poured the two men some tea and offered them some cakes. Then they got down to business.
"Have you found anything?"
"Nothing…much," Remus said.
"But we do know that our Vigilante is a muggle – Harry told us as much in his letter," Arthur replied.
"Yes, I got the same one," Albus shook his head.
"If we had something else to go by, bronze bullets and a hat doesn't give us much," Remus said.
"Of course it does; who else do we know wears a hat and uses bronze bullets?" Albus asked.
"Not a wizard, that's for sure. And the bullets seemed to be old fashioned in make," Arthur groused, he sipped some tea before sighing.
"I'm sure if we can get our hands on some sort of files that have the same crime scene, of sorts, then we can at least narrow down the suspects. At this point in time, we can suspect everyone in the world and not get anywhere because of it," Remus put in.
"I'll see what I can do for you," Albus replied. The three sat in silence, not really knowing how to voice their thoughts.
Night had finally come; and Carl was glad to be in bed. He snored lightly in his bed, but Van Helsing hardly noticed. What he noticed was the full moon that hung in the cloudy sky. It had been on a night such as this, that he had himself turned into a Werewolf in order to defeat Dracula.
Dracula…the only non-living person in the world that could have given him back the memories that he so desired; however, Van Helsing knew that he had done the right thing by refusing such memories. Maybe he wasn't supposed to have them, and maybe he was. But God would have to decide which was which and what was what.
A howl rented through the air at that moment – ripping Van Helsing from his thoughts and Carl from his sleep. Without a world, Van Helsing stood, pulled on his heavy coat and fedora hat. He went to his bag and pulled out his silver pistols.
"You'll need these," Carl said, handing over a box of bullets.
"Thank you," Van Helsing replied.
"You be careful now, I don't have any antidote for the Werewolf venom," Carl replied.
"I will, stay here," Van Helsing replied and disappeared out the door. Carl locked it behind him. Intent on just waiting since he hated to be near Vampires or Werewolves!
"Dear me, dear me," Carl muttered. Shivering, he went back to bed, but he lit a candle and lent back to wait.
Clouds danced slowly across the blue moon – each second of the quietness making him tense, the howl he had heard just moments before felt too close for comfort and now that he was out in the open…Van Helsing felt even more at odds with his job.
It really wasn't the Werewolf's fault that he turned into a slobbering beast once a month; was it? But still, it was Van Helsing's job to rid the world of evil. But sometimes, the job seemed too big for just him.
Snorting could be heard just then; and snarling. Van Helsing turned to an alley way. It was dark, but he could see the outline of the Werewolf. He knew it was the Werewolf because of the golden eyes. Van Helsing raised his left pistol and aimed at the Werewolf. With more snarling, and a giant leap, the Werewolf was almost on top of the hunter.
Van Helsing turned out of the way and the Werewolf flew past him. Van Helsing took a pot-shot at the snarling beast before having to duck once again. He cursed as the claws came too close to his face, but he was quicker than the beast.
He took another shot; and another, these just seemed to infuriate the animal even further. With a growl and leap, the Werewolf was at him again. Van Helsing stood where he was, he waited until the chest of the Werewolf was exposed.
The sounds of two shots rang through the air – with a saddening yelp, the Werewolf fell to the ground, dead as the night was dark. In a few moments, the wolf transformed into a man. A young man by the end of it; Van Helsing knelt down and crossed himself, praying for the lost soul. Sometimes he really did hate himself, and his job. But more importantly he hated taking life…no matter what it was.
He vanished into the night; with the foot steps of the townsfolk coming way too soon – he knew that he and Carl didn't have much time. They had to leave to night!
A/N – I know that the Werewolf fighting scene wasn't scary, or thrilling or anything. I tried my hardest, honestly, I did. I hope you liked it anyway!
Story notes – Van Helsing and Carl are in Wick. Remus is a Werewolf, but he wasn't the Werewolf Van Helsing killed. Remus hates what he is and has always locked himself someplace on the full moon because he does not want to ruin anyone else's lives.
The Wizarding community has laws for Vampires and Werewolves. I know more about the Werewolf laws because JKR hasn't put a Vampire in yet. Unless I am mistaken, maybe she did in HBP, but I'll have to go look that up!
Any questions, please PM me!
Ta.
Poppy
p.s. This chapter is not beta-ed! but that's all right. My beta is concentratig on 'The Crownless Shall Again Be King' and she is great! by the way!