A/N: This chappie is rather long, so just stick with it lol
Three years later
It was midnight, and the night was warm, still and dark. A figure in a long cloak wove carefully through the still crowded back streets of old London Town.
These weren't any old back alley ways though. Don't wander off the beaten path to explore these winding pathways.
These streets are where the undead roam.
The figure walked briskly down what was effectively the high street of the Undead area of London. It was busy and the low roar of talking and general humdrum louder than usual.
A Dark Wizard was gaining power, and that definitely meant better chances for the more unscrupulous members of the Undead community.
Ghouls talked darkly at rickety tables under ripped and ragged café awnings. An exhausted looking zombie waitress was carrying heavy trays of raw meat to them. They were so heavy in fact, that her grey hands and the tray kept falling to the ground with loud clatters.
Some of the last revenant's in Britain were at the same café - The Necromancer. They were whispering and kept jabbing fingers at a old map laying on their table.
A creaking sign over a dark doorway next door to the café advertised Oriental medicine and acupuncture. A seedy looking Jiang Shi stood in the doorway, running fingernails through a straggly beard.
The shop opposite from these two advertised 'Coffin fashions'. Three Vampire girls, clad in heavy velvet formal wear, exited bearing a dozen large bags and comparing their purchases.
A lost and found office stood next to the clothes shop, a grey sign stating they could find anything for anyone. A Grey Lady was inside talking loudly about how her teeth had been stolen from her grave, and how she wanted them back. The figure in the cloak looked at the sign for a second then carried on.
A second later it was stopped by a trio of mylings, asking if the figure needed it's shoes shined, or any errands ran or perhaps a guide around the city? No, sir? Are you sure sir? We offer our services at a very good price sir! After finally shaking them off, the figure continued on it's way.
A Will o' the wisp stood behind a little market stall selling horn lamps.
A troupe of dancing skeletons had drawn quite a large crowd. Suddenly, one completely collapsed in a pile of dust. The crowd laughed and clapped, throwing money into a sparkly top hat.
A spectre stood floating a couple of inches above the ground, shook a collection tub. It was raising money for the protection of a ruin in Scotland, which was apparently going to be turned into a holiday camp by muggles.
A inferi and a lich were having a argument in pavement bar. They seemed to be arguing over who was the most powerful. A yellowing mummy with trailing bandages rapped his knuckles on the bar for drinks. A mummy woman, child, baby and dog sat on a nearby table.
A elegant, yet shabby, building stood next to the bar. A brass plaque on the oak door read, 'Mr Slant and Mr Chriek ESQ. Zombie and vampire lawyers.'
A thin figure leant against this building, smoking. He appeared to be wearing a folded leather cape. He was holding a sign that read 'Banshee for hire.'
Two bogeymen walked past from a opposite street, laughing between themselves. One offered to buy the other a pint.
The cloaked figure had reached the end of the 'high street' and turned into the left street. This one was silent, shabby Victorian terraces lining both sides of the road; there was no pavement. Two white faced children leant out a first story window, with black hair and eyes. A shambling woman in white passed the figure, muttering to herself. She appeared to be covered in blood, and a small blue china bowl followed her, floating lazily in the air.
The figure went past a group of old fashioned tin bins, and two shucks were foraging in it, the red glow from their saucer eyes lighting up the street. One padded up to the figure, all three tails wagging. The figure patted it on the head, and the single red eye closed happily.
The figure neared a Tudor style pub. A wooden sign creaked slowly in the wind. It read, 'Thee Vixene.' A figure of a young girl stood outside, leaning against the wall smoking.
"Password?" She asked as the figure drew near, stubbing out her cigarette under a grimy trainer. "Hey, I wouldn't normally ask Y'know, but tonight I've got special orders. Gotta check that only the right people are in tonight." She said apologetically, spreading her hands wide at the sight of his expression.
"Fine, fine. Silver. "
"Not the most imaginative of wolves, is Fenrir Greyback. Silver? Honestly!" The young girl shook her head, smirking. "Oh and Sandrine says she made meatballs for dinner, and they're in the oven warm for when you want them."
The figure nodded and stepped inside the building.
The Vixen was a large, low ceilinged nightclub. There was a oak bar at the end nearest the door, a seating area full of rickety old tables and chairs with red dribbly candles on them. A black pewter candelabra hung from the ceiling, giving off soft, pleasant light. At the far end there was a stage, were currently a band was playing.
"People are strange, when you're a stranger, faces look ugly when your alone…" Sung the female blonde singer, playing a bass guitar.
Above this room, there were several small rooms for let and a tiny kitchen.
The place was packed tonight; all the eye could see were heads bent low over tables and the occasionally glimmer of light reflected from a glass or tankard.
A young woman with green skin, ruddy hair, cheeks and lips sat at the bar cleaning glasses. She wore what looked like a sparkly red leotard. The figure approached her, and she gave a start, and pointed a wand at it.
"Who's there…oh, it's you Remus! Don't you surprise me like that again!" She placed a hand on her chest. "You would've had me heart pounding like a wild thing, if it could still beat."
Remus Lupin pulled off his cloak and handed it to the woman who placed it under the bar.
"Sorry Rosie, didn't mean too. The shucks are raiding from the bins again; you might have to move them."
"Again?" Rosie sighed. "Them things are nothing but a menace! I've a right mind to complain to that family, letting their dogs run loose round the street. It's not hygienic!" She sniffed angrily.
"Have they been here long?" Remus asked quietly. Rosie shot a glance to one of the tables closest to the bar. It was completely surrounded by a group of people, whispering darkly.
"Nah, they haven't. Barely arrived just before you. Hang on… oh lor they want more bull's blood. I'll be out soon, then what'll my beetotallers say? They'll complain and then they'll go hunting and catch some poor muggle…" She scowled, shaking her head. "Can you help me off my stump Remus? I'm getting rheumatism in my middle, it makes moving very difficult."
He nodded and grabbed her arms, pulling her forward. Rosie smiled, and pulled the top half of her body along the bar. She reached a bar tap, poured out ten pint glasses of a dark red liquid, placed them on a tray and turned, seemingly to put the tray on nothingness.
A second later, a pair of legs joined to what used to be Rosie's waist and hips (Still clad in the bottom half of a sparkly red leotard, laddered tights and red sparkly high heels) with the tray balanced on top set off precariously to the table. Lupin followed slowly, waiting to join the table after the drinks had arrived.
"You're late." A voice hissed from the middle of a smoke cloud.
"Sorry, I got held up by that spectre on the way here. The one collecting for charity…" There was a grunt of aggrement around the table. Lupin picked the tray up from the legs and placed it in the centre of the table. Hands grabbed for the glasses and the meeting continued as if Lupin hadn't even arrived.
"…so he's saying for definite that we can have as many victims as possible?" Asked a woman to his left. The man in the smoke cloud nodded, grinning.
Lupin stopped listening. He had been a spy here for three months, and every week it was the same story. The werewolves, lead by Fenrir Greyback (the man in the smoke cloud) who had been discriminated at for years by normal wizarding society were slowly, but surely siding with Lord Voldemort. He did promise them freedoms they had been denied of for years. Lupin found that his reasoned arguments weren't working with them. It seemed Lord Voldemort would have the full support of the werewolf community in Britain.
He turned his attention to the band instead. They'd been playing a lot recently and a large group of undead teenagers were in the tiny dance floor in front of the stage.
"An angel walked amongst us, tried but couldn't love us, something's wrong …" Sang the blonde girl. The crowd gave a whoop. She smiled and waved randomly at the crowd.
"So tell me how it feels, tell me how it feels, to touch the flame, tell me who I am, tell me who I really am, what's my name…"
"…And this is our last song tonight. It's called The killing moon, and it's by Echo & The bunny men…"
The meeting had finished over an hour ago, with a final whisper to Lupin, "Next week's password is Wulver. Don't be late next time."
He'd stayed in the seating area, watching the band.
"Under blue moon I saw you, so soon you'll take me, up in your arms, too late to beg you or cancel it, though I know it must be the killing time, unwillingly mine…"
"Good aren't they?" Said a voice next to him. Sandrine, the cook, had come down from her kitchen to watch the band. She was a neurotic teenage vampire who had a slight obsession for pink jumpers, and an expression like a puppy who's been kicked.
Lupin gave a grunt of ascent.
"I've been coming down to watch them for the past few weeks. They're excellent!"
"In starlit nights I saw you, so cruelly you kissed me, your lips a magic world, your sky all hung with jewels, the killing moon, will come too soon…"
"Did you get the message from Mal? Your meatballs are in the oven, but I think they've got a bit over cooked. They've been in there for hours!"
"Fate, up against your will, through the thick and thin, he will wait until, you give yourself to him…"
"Yes I got the message. I just wasn't hungry."
"Right, right. I should go up and make some fresh ones then." Sandrine got up quickly and hurried out.
The Vixen was now closed. Rosie (or at least the top half) was sat up on the bar, cleaning and stacking glasses. Sandrine had brought a steaming hot plate of fresh meatballs down for Lupin to eat, and was now hovering nervously nearby in case something happen. Maladicta (the girl outside who served as a bouncer) had come inside, and was running around inside for no particular reason.
Lupin sat at the bar eating.
It was strange how in a way, he didn't really want to leave The Vixen. While he hated the idea of being 'where he deserved, with his own kind', the staff at The Vixen were friendly. Rosie had seen right through him when he arrived as a spy for The Order, but understood why, and gave him the most comfortable guest room, even helping Lupin with information about certain people.
Sandrine liked cooking, so for the first time in many years, Lupin found himself with three hot, square meals a day, thanks to her.
Maladicta…well, to start she was a werewolf too. Not from Britain, but Europe. Where, she wouldn't say. She wouldn't answer how she was a werewolf either, just shaking and dropping things when you asked her.
"Them organised werewolves had a nasty civil war. It only ended a few years ago. Anyway, folks escaping from that came over here in their droves. That's how Maladicta got over here. But don't be asking her no questions about it, she don't like remembering it for a good reason. They were vicious, they was." Rosie had informed Lupin when he'd asked her about the girl.
Maladicta was one of the few werewolves he'd managed to convince to support wizards. She was very open minded and was raring to join The Order itself when Lupin told her about it. However, as she couldn't perform magic (she probably could, but she wasn't trained. Didn't even have a wand.) Lupin had politely but forcefully told her no.
"Did you see how great they were? They were great, weren't they? Next biggest thing on the Undead music they say. The Howlers are brilliant!" Maladicta apparently was a fan of the band on tonight.
"Undead music scene? Didn't know there was one." Rosie said, jokingly.
"OF course there is! Where were you buried, in the middle of the China sea?" Maladicta rolled her eyes. Rosie laughed and Sandrine gave a little titter.
There was a knock at the doors.
"Mail call!" yelled Maladicta, leaping over tables and chairs in her excitement.
"That girl is going to kill herself some day." Muttered Rosie under her breath. Lupin chuckled and pushed his plate away. Sandrine swooped on it.
"Did you like it? Was it all right? Was it too hot? Too cold? Grisly? Flat?"
"They were just fine Sandrine."
The vampire gave a half nod, grabbed the plate and darted upstairs.
"I swear she gets worse everyday! I wish she'd have a nice bull's blood someday or just get herself an Igor. She'd be more vampirish. She's not enough of a vampire for my liking." Muttered Rosie darkly.
"It was that damn zombie Reg again!" Maladicta fumed as she came back in. "That one obsessed with killing himself? I answered the door and he goes 'Why aren't I dead? I got hit by a car today.' So I yelled at him 'Because you're already dead you thick piece of crap!'" Maladicta sat on a bar stool and sighed theatrically. She held up two letters and a postcard.
An annoying habit of Maladicta's was to read all the post first.
"Right…postcard for Sandrine from her brother…ooh, he's wine tasting in South Africa. How nice…" She threw the postcard in the direction of the stairwell. It missed spectacularly, landing on the magical jukebox instead. She ripped open a brown envelope.
"Gas bill for you Rosie…hmm, quite a lot this month. I think it's because Sandrine been making so much extra food this month…" She handed Rosie the letter. She looked at the last white envelope critically. It had dark, dried red stains on the front.
"I think this one had been sent by owl…don't people realise that banshees eat post owls if they see them?" She tutted loudly whilst ripping it open. She quickly scanned the page.
"Hey, it's for YOU loopy!"
Lupin looked up sharply.
"It's from a woman called Molly. She says that she's inviting you over for Christmas at her house. Cushy….can't remember the last time I was invited anywhere for Christmas. Maybe I can come next year? She says, in the PS thingy -what's that called again?- that someone called Nymphadora has been invited too but can't come. Like the name! Better than Maladicta any day…HEY!"
The letter had been snatched from her hands by Lupin. He was reading it intently with a sort of lost expression on his face.
"I'm sorry ok. But you should know by now I read all letters coming in…" Maladicta babbled on in the background.
"I'm going. Tomorrow." Cut in Lupin. Maladicta's jaw dropped and Rosie looked at him sharply.
"What about Greyback?"
"You'll be able to invent something I'm sure Rosie. You know how this business works."
She nodded, shamelessly.
"But you can't just go." Spluttered Maladicta. "They'll know you've gone off to a wizarding family and who'll get the brunt of it? Not Rosie, no one disrespects her. No, ME. The only other werewolf in the place-"
"I'm going." Lupin said firmly. Maladicta opened her mouth to argue then shut it looking mutinous. "I'll settle the bill tomorrow morning." He said to Rosie. She shook her head.
"As long as your under my roof you'll pay no bill. It's on the house. And you," She turned to Maladicta, "Off to bed. It's almost dawn. You should be asleep. Friday night tomorrow, longest night of the week."
Maladicta opened her mouth looking indignant. Rosie pointed sharply at her. The girl got up and stormed upstairs, shouting at Sandrine, who was apparently listening in on the landing.
"You'd better get to bed Remus. You'll have to leave early before the regulars arrive. You don't want them to see you leave."
"And The Shambling Woman?"
"Oh that old bat? She's blind! Haven't you realised yet? Now, go on, get up to bed."
"Goodnight Rosie."
"Goodnight and God bless." She turned back to her glass cleaning and Lupin started to go up the stairwell. Then he came down again, remembering a question he'd been dying to ask Rosie since the day he'd arrived and almost had a heart attack at the sight of her legs walking around by themselves.
"Rosie…"
"Yes?"
"…How did you die?"
She turned to him, staring at him like she couldn't believe what he'd just asked.
"I'm sorry if I'm being-"
"Nah, I don't mind. I get asked every day. It's just taken you a bloody long time to ask! I thought you'd have asked the minute you came in and almost fainted from shock! Anyway, long story short, magic trick accident. I was the glamorous assistant of course. I was in a box for the 'saw-in-half' trick and I got sawn in half. Next thing I can remember after that was waking up in my coffin, thinking 'gor blimey I can't feel my legs!' " She chuckled to herself.
"That's…that's--"
"Don't try to say anything. I knew I shouldn't've worked for a magician called 'Marvo the not so magnificent'."
Lupin picked up his battered case and walked down the battered stairwell. It was early in the morning and he hoped to leave without waking the others up. However, as he walked down the winding stairs Maladicta caught him.
"HEY HEY he's trying to get away! He's sneaking off without saying goodbye!" She screamed, running forwards and leaping onto his back.
"You don't get away that easily matey!" She hooted as he struggled down the stairs, with her clutching onto his back like a limpet. He forcefully dropped her as soon as he got downstairs.
"Gawd Mal you'll wake the whole neighbourhood up! Can't you be silent for five minutes?" Rosie came down the stairs, her top stump balanced precariously on top of her legs. A silk dressing robe helped to keep her together, but the fluffy bunny slippers she wore just because humans made her laugh.
Sandrine followed, nervously, a huge under wired white nightgown making her look smaller than usual.
"Goodbye and take care of yourself, you hear? I don't want to hear you've got yourself killed or something stupid." Said Rosie, pecking him on the cheek.
"You ever get hungry, just send me a message and I'll fly right over…" Fussed Sandrine.
Lupin assured her that he would and made to go for the door. Maladicta stood in front of it, in her too-big blue and white stripped pyjamas.
"If there's a fight, can I come and fight?"
He nodded, thinking to himself that he would never do that.
Maladicta seemed to know what he was thinking.
"Promise?"
"I promise."
"Okay then." She grinned. "Bye de bye loopy. Can I come to this place for Christmas too?"
The three women watched him from a window. He walked a safe distance away then Disapparated. Rosie drew the curtains quickly.
"Old Finn across the road might have been watching…but he might have just been doing Yoga in his underpants again." She shuddered.
"I hope he's all right wherever he's going. He really reminded me of my father, you know. Decent, like." Sandrine sighed theoretically. She blinked awkwardly a few times, then ran upstairs.
"I swear that vampire's nuts." Muttered Maladicta, who was now sat on the floor playing with a cork.
Rosie mmmed and headed over to the old fashioned phone in the wall. She started dialling quickly.
"Who you calling?" Asked Maladicta.
"Amelia." Answered Rosie distractedly.
"Who's that?"
"Amelia Vuk."
"THE Lady Amelia?" Asked Maladicta excitedly, her eyes bright.
"Yes…oh hello Claude. Is your mistress in? I have a urgent message for her. Yes I can wait."
"You're on first name terms with Lady Amelia?"
"Yes for the last time! She used to live in London….Ammy? Hello! Yes it has been a long time. How's Elsa and Andrei? Good good. Three litters? God, I don't know how you cope. Oh is he now? That's great. I'm calling because I've got that information for you. Yes I know who he is. Yes he bloody well exists, he's spent the last three months here in my club! Decent chap. Very poor. Can't find work. Hmmm….I have no idea whether he'd like to join the pack. I didn't press his status very heavily, he seemed very uncomfortable staying here. He tried his hardest to get information out of young Maladicta here, but you know what most victims of the civil war are like…yes, it was nice to talk. I'll come over soon. The phantom coaches down the road are saying they might expand to Europe. Goodbye!" Rosie put the phone down and rubbed her forehead.
"What was that about?" Asked Maladicta.
"Just some information Amelia wanted."
"She wanted to know about Remus? Why?"
a/n: well done for getting through that. claps lyrics are Echo and the bunnymen. if you wander what any of the undead creatures are, just ask me. and keep reading! it'll make sense in the end ")