Cold Iron
Chapter 7: Flying
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and Gundam Wing belong to their respective owners and I make no profit from writing this. This applies to this and all chapters of my work.
Rating: T/PG-13
Warning: 1x2, vaguely crude language (and possibly the odd vulgar joke from Duo.)
It smelt. Bad. Both Harry and Duo wrinkled their noses as they stepped on to the Quidditch pitch, brooms balanced on their shoulders. "Well, this is kind of gross," Duo said, toeing at the frozen ground. Something went squoosh beneath his foot. "Fertilizer?"
"Dragon dung," Harry confirmed. Great piles of the stuff sat steaming around them. Hagrid must have been there before them. "Are you ready to fly?"
Flying. That was something that Duo had actually been looking forward to ever since he had squashed his nose against the window of Quality Quidditch Supplies in Diagon Alley. Not that he knew what Quidditch was, but there was plenty of time to find out. When Harry handed him a broom, Duo held it with as much reverence as he could afford to give a household cleaning device.
"So how does it work?" Duo asked, wanting to be up in the air as soon as possible.
"Er," Harry said, trying to remember back to his first lesson with Madam Hooch. "I just got on and pushed up," he admitted. "You just know what to do." He mounted his Firebolt and gently took off to demonstrate what he meant. "But some people are better at it than others," he warned, thinking back to Neville's first disastrous experience.
"That's okay. I belong in the sky," Duo said confidently and swung a leg over the Comet 260. He mimicked Harry's movement and pushed off the ground. To his utter delight and surprise, he hovered a good metre about the grass. 'This…' he thought, in awe. 'This is how humans should travel.' Yes, his hands were freezing and yes, he would be very sore in a certain place later but he was flying! Not in a plane or a shuttle or a Gundam. On a broom. "What now?"
"Just will yourself forward. Tilt the handle to change direction." Harry grinned. Duo's childlike delight was contagious. He swooped down close to Duo and came to a rest beside him. "Not too sharply though!" Watching Duo on a broom was like watching a newborn colt stumble blindly around a barnyard. Duo had an expression of almost painful concentration, the tip of his tongue peeking out of the side of his mouth and Harry observed with amusement as Duo struggled to turn around.
"Is it this - hard - for you?" Duo grunted as he turned sharply. The broom shuddered and refused to straighten out.
"Not really. I don't even have to think about it."
The braided boy watched jealously as Harry circled him in wide, lazy swoops. 'Blasted cold iron,' he thought and it twitched under his shirt in retaliation. He really wished he could just take it off as that would probably improve his performance by infinity percent but knew in the long run, it wouldn't help. Mrs. Elffrost had forbidden him to cave to the temptation.
Not that she would know whether he did or not, and not that it mattered as he was leaving in two weeks. But he had given his word and Duo Maxwell does not lie. So the bitch-metal stayed on. Mrs. Elffrost encouraged him to observe how natural magic changed into processed magic whenever he had the opportunity, and he could see, after pressing harder on his contacts, how the bright ribbons of natural magic fed into the handle of the broom in front of him. From the brush of the broom, it emitted puffs of iridescent cloud that dissipated after a couple seconds. 'Just like a car, but prettier.' Whether it damaged the environment, Duo didn't know. Comparing the speed with which his Comet 260 'ate' the magic with Harry's Firebolt, Duo felt he was sitting on a panda while Harry was racing on a great white shark. A flying great white sky shark.
It did get easier, to Duo's relief. After fifteen minutes of thinking, 'Move, move, move,' constantly, the broom jerked around in a slightly smoother manner and he elevated to three metres. He would have liked to be up in that cloudless sky where Harry was zooming around like a fly but he could afford to take it slowly for now.
He was flying.
Meanwhile, Harry was enjoying the cold clear air against his face and the delighted whoops from Duo down below, when his scar suddenly prickled. That was the only warning he had before a burst of joy erupted in his chest and he had to suppress the urge to laugh manically. Even so, his face twisted into a grin and he started shaking from trying to smother the insane giggles bubbling up inside his chest.
'What's happening?' Harry thought, panicking as his vision went hazy, blackening around the edges. He felt sick, as if something was squeezing his insides. He lost control of his concentration and of his broom and twisted downwards in a fast fall. Harry tried to regain his focus but all he could think of was how happy he was that he had found it after months of searching. He heard Duo shout his name as his stomach flew upwards and the frozen ground rushed up to meet him.
The ground twisted and flipped as something slammed into his side and long arms wrapped firmly around his middle. He blacked out as Voldemort's presence dribbled out from his mind.
When Duo looked up and saw that the magic around Harry's scar was visible from Duo's own pitiful height, he knew something was wrong. He was already concerned about the fact that the magic was the colour of burnt toast and that it crackled like bad static, but for it to be so strong that he could see it from all the way down here-
Then Harry fell.
Duo had seconds to act. Harry was falling fast, back arched towards the ground, robes whipping around his body. Duo urged the broom to move towards his falling friend and taking Harry's acceleration and wind drag into account, he pulled his feet up onto his broom and leapt towards him with a yell. His calculations thankfully proved correct and he grabbed at Harry's waist, pulling the limp body against him. He twisted and tried to protect him as much as possible from the unforgiving ground.
Luckily, they landed in a huge pile of fresh, steaming poo.
Duo lay there for a second, Harry's head against his chest as he savoured the warmth against his back. 'This is so gross,' he thought. Then, 'There's poo in my hair.' He noted that the dragon dung was sparkling and had to fight the urge to laugh hysterically. 'Correction: magical poo.'
"Oi, you okay? Hey!" And Harry was unconscious for some reason. Excellent. He must have really zoned out up there or these brooms were more dangerous than Duo thought. 'It's a good thing I managed to get a hang of this flying thing,' Duo thought, shuddering to think about what could have happened.
But that aside, the current problem was that Harry was knocked out and Duo had to fix that. He took a small handful of the life-saving dragon dung and sniffed it. 'That should wake him up,' he thought before unceremoniously shoving it up Harry's nose.
Harry twitched and spluttered back to life. "What're you doing!" he choked out, gagging as if he were dying.
"Amazingly useful stuff, dragon shit," Duo said, grinning with relief. He shrugged but still sounded far too pleased with himself. "The ammonia in it will wake you right up. Also it saves your life when you fall off a broom."
"Oh. Oh." Everything came flooding back: the burning scar, the unexplained happiness and the drop. "What happened?" He could understand why he was sitting in the pile of fertilizer but didn't see why Duo was perched happily beside him.
"Well, if I just let you fall, you would have landed over there." Duo pointed to where Harry's Firebolt was lying. "On the cold and unforgiving ground. So I nudged you a little in the right direction."
"Oh." So that's why he had woken up with Duo's arm still wrapped tightly around him. "Thank you," Harry said, realising that if Duo hadn't managed to get to him in time, he would have broken his neck and worse.
His thanks were graciously accepted. "You know, it'd be so much easier to take you seriously if you didn't have faeces smeared above your mouth," Duo said, amused when Harry hurriedly wiped his face with his sleeve. "No, no, just here." Duo gestured as all Harry did was succeed in spreading it around more. "Uh, never mind."
"I can wash and wash but I'll never feel clean again," Harry muttered as Duo cackled wickedly.
They both pulled themselves out the pile, backs covered with muck. "What happened up there?" Duo asked, after collecting the fallen brooms. "Something spooked your broom?"
"No it was, er…" Harry didn't really know himself. His scar had hurt before, but only when he was in close proximity to Voldemort or when he had dreams. But dreams were only supposed to come at night and Voldemort couldn't be close. Or could he? And that rush of happiness he had felt was unlike anything he had felt before. It had been completely alien as if it were another person's and Harry had a sinking suspicion as to who that person might be. "I have to speak with Professor Dumbledore about it," Harry said finally.
"Okay, that's cool. You want me to come?"
"I think I should see him alone," Harry said. He didn't really want many people knowing about the link he had with the Dark Lord, even if Duo didn't fully appreciate Voldemort and his values. "You go ahead back to the tower."
"Nah, I need to see Mrs. Elffrost anyway," Duo said. "I'll catch you later." He wanted to find out about the black energy he saw and still sensed around Harry's scar.
When he found her in Professor Elffrost's office and asked, Mrs. Elffrost's expression tightened and became more severe than usual. "Black magic? Oh, that poor boy," she said, with a surprising amount of sympathy.
"So what's the deal with that?"
"I cannot say for sure, but I know that it is not good. Also, I do not want to tell you more about Harry's past without his knowledge. I can tell you that the colour black usually signifies a curse or dark magic. Are you absolutely sure that it is black?"
Duo was about to answer, when a portrait of a little girl interrupted them. "I beg pardon," she said, curtseying. "But Headmaster Dumbledore requests Professor Elffrost and Mr. Maxwell's presences in his office."
Mrs. Elffrost nodded. "I will tell him," she said. "Thank you." The rosy-cheeked girl curtseyed again and disappeared out of the picture.
"I'll never get used to that," Duo admitted, following the streams of magic around the portrait with his eyes. He had noticed that right before the girl entered the frame, the painting had flared slightly, as if heralding her arrival.
"Do not worry. You will. As for the black magic, I shall ask Pig about it the next time I see him. He will know more about it. If I were you, I would ask Harry himself about his scar and what it feels like."
Ten minutes later, Duo and Professor Elffrost got off the rotating stone staircase and stepped into Dumbledore's office. Harry was already sitting in front of Dumbledore's desk, fingers gripping the sides anxiously. Dumbledore looked sombre, the usual blue spark in his eyes replaced by a steely gaze.
"Juma," he said. "I have reason to believe that the Devil's Bone has been compromised. Voldemort has heard of its whereabouts and is pursuing it as we speak.
Professor Elffrost started, the whites of his widened eyes stark against his black skin. "It's been found? Impossible, no one knows-"
"I'm afraid that we can't be sure of that," Dumbledore said, sounding very sure of himself. "I believe that it would be best if we relocated it. I have on good account that it would be in danger should we leave it there." Duo noticed Harry shift slightly in his chair and knew that this 'good account' was a certain glasses-wearing, lightening-scarred friend of his.
After a moment, Professor Elffrost nodded slowly. "Very well," he said, his voice deep. "I'll contact its keepers and tell them be especially alert. I'll make arrangements for its transport."
Dumbledore sighed. "Thank you, Juma." Professor Elffrost swept out of the room, the beads around his neck rattling as he left. "Now, Harry, Duo, I'm afraid we have a serious matter to attend to."
"I thought it'd be something like that," Duo said lightly, slouching back in his chair. "What's the deal teach'?"
"There is a weapon Voldemort is after," Dumbledore said, not wasting time. "Juma has been put in charge of its safekeeping, but Voldemort has made his move a lot earlier than I anticipated. Thanks to Harry-" Here, the headmaster nodded gratefully at Harry. "I believe we have enough time to move it to a better hiding place."
"What's the weapon, Professor?" Harry asked, brow creased. "It isn't- it can't be something muggle. Right?"
"Oh no, Harry. The Devil's Bone is in no way muggle. In simplest terms, it is an artefact that gives the bearer the same powers and abilities as a wielder." The room went very quiet, the portraits were silent and even the many silver implements littered around the office were still.
'The same powers as a wielder…'
"Hey wait," Duo said, eyes widening. "So that would mean-"
"That he would be able to negate spells, magical fields, wards and so on with little effort," Dumbeldore said, fatigue lining his words as the implications sunk in. "The blood protection shielding you, Harry, would be nullified. He would also be able to target opponents that pose the greatest threat and relieve them of their wizarding ability."
'Wielders' Theft,' Duo thought, not liking at all how this was turning out. This weapon, the Devil's Bone, plus a megalomaniac with higher than average wizarding ability would result in a massive shitfest.
He also didn't like how Dumbledore was looking at him intensely, as if he was the only one who could stop this.
After that bombshell, Duo had to work a little to keep his emotions in check. He knew exactly what the wily headmaster was doing – Duo had dealt with manipulative people before and, after all, what were the Gundam pilots other than weapons the doctors could manipulate to their liking? The 'sad old man' act had irritated Duo a little but the irritation was nothing compared to the guilt. Duo had whole-heartedly accepted that he would not be able to help out Harry and his crew. But that was before. Now Dumbledore had informed them that should Voldemort get his hands on the Devil's Bone, only wielders would be able to stand against him with any chance of success. And wielders were hard to come by.
He had been unable to look Harry in the eye after Dumbledore had requested once again for his assistance. "I'm sorry," he had said, worrying his lip with his bottom teeth. "But I can't. I have to go back."And once again, Dumbledore said that he understood that. But the slight waver in Duo's voice was enough to show that his resolve was being tugged at.
'I can't stay,' he thought miserably while flicking through the book Mrs. Elffrost had given him. 'I would, but I can't. The guys need me.' Duo didn't doubt for one second that the other pilots wouldn't be able to handle whatever the war threw at them, but he still felt that he belonged there with them. It was their fight, all five of them. He couldn't just leave his comrades. 'I hope that they haven't been too worried,' he thought and despite only having been away for a short while, he missed them terribly. Especially Heero.
Duo shook himself. He only had to hold out for a little longer and distract himself from these kinds of thoughts. He only managed to stop thinking about it that evening.
"So Dumbledore forced you to stay here this Christmas when you could have been hanging with your awesome godfather?" Duo asked when he saw Harry writing yet another letter to the infamous Snuffles. "What. That's not right."
Harry shrugged. "I don't mind." 'Anymore.' "I'll see him again soon. Better than you being here by yourself right?"
"Yeah I gue- wait. Better than me- are you babysitting me?"
"What? No! I, erm." Harry's hesitation was an admission of something and Duo knew that even if 'babysitting' wasn't the most apt description, Harry was being made to stay at Hogwarts on his account. "I'm awful with holiday homework," he offered lamely.
"Uh-huh."
"It's true!"
"Right."
"Look," Harry said, growing increasingly agitated at the way Duo's gaze cut right through him. "It's no big deal, I'm used to spending Christmas like this anyway. Besides, you're alright."
"I'm alright," Duo repeated somewhat disbelievingly.
"Yeah, I don't mind spending Christmas with you."
Duo was silent at this admission as Harry felt his cheeks flush and he stared resolutely at the parchment in front of him. After a week and a bit in Hogwarts, Duo was learning more about typical British character every day. From where he came from, the United Kingdom had been (mostly) dissolved after Scotland had seceded relatively early in the New Calendar, Ireland following quickly after. But after environmental problems and climate change threatened the islands and their shores, a sizable part of the population swiftly emigrated to the mainland and he couldn't really remember all the details. But the idea of the typical British gentleman had endured and Duo found himself comparing this world's Britons to his supposed own. One, teeth here wasn't nearly as bad as the stereotype made it out to be. Two, the weather was remarked upon an awful lot. Three, feelings were not shared very often, hence talking about the neutral topic of the weather instead. Especially feelings about the person in front of you.
"Well, gee, Harry. Thanks man. By the way, how far's that village from here?"
"Hogsmeade? Not too far. Why?"
"We're going shopping tomorrow."
"Okay?"
Duo's fox-like smile did nothing to reassure Harry at all.
"We are here for one main thing," Duo said the next day, New Year's Eve, with all the solemnness of a three-year-old. "Liquor." They were standing outside the wizarding equivalent of an off-licence that Harry had never seen before. Mainly because he was fifteen and wouldn't be allowed to purchase alcohol until he was seventeen, or eighteen in the muggle world. But apparently Duo didn't see the problem.
"Duo," Harry hissed, looking around to see if anyone was looking at them. "I can't go in here. He'll know who I am and that I'm underage." The shopkeeper, a balding man with a hell of a moustache, was already watching them carefully, pretending to rearrange some of the bottles of wine around the display in the window.
"Relax," Duo said, clapping a hand on Harry's shoulder. "I've checked it all out with my funky contacts. Sure, there are some interesting bits of magic, but nothing I can't handle. But you're right though." He frowned slightly. "I forgot that people would know who you are. So you get lookout duty. Stay out here and if you see a responsible adult, make a cawing noise and then run. We'll regroup at Honeydukes."
"This is stupid."
"You're stupid," Duo said cattily and stepped into the liquor store. Truth to be told, he was actually slightly relieved that Harry chose to wait outside in the snow. Duo didn't know what effects the 'interesting bits of magic' – Age Lines he would later find out – would have on Harry. But being a cold iron wielder had its uses and he stepped right through the barriers of magic without blowing up or sprouting tentacles or anything of the like. The interior of Jim's Enchantin' Offsale's was almost like a Honeydukes for alcoholics. There were drinks that claimed to have you breathing fire, make your jokes funnier or have you completely off your face with two sips. He picked the most interesting bottles, along with failsafe butterbeers, dunking them in a wicker basket before bringing his haul up to the back of the store. The shopkeeper looked like he desperately wanted to ask Duo how old he was but he knew that his age lines didn't lie and had no choice but to allow Duo to pay for them (with Harry's money).
"Are you a Hogwarts' student?" he asked, unable to resist as Duo started to walk away with the goods.
"Nope," Duo said with all honesty. "Just visiting." But the guilt in his chest grew as he said it.
Perhaps, in hindsight, getting gently smashed on the roof of Gryffindor Tower was not the greatest of ideas, but it was still a pretty good one. They had taken Harry's Firebolt and strapped the crate full of booze to the back and flown out of the dorm window. Duo had followed him on his trusty Comet 260. They had spent the rest of the afternoon practicing flying so that Duo wouldn't fall to his death. They had managed to find somewhere relatively flat and safe for two soon-to-be-drunk people. It was late, the sky was clear and the air was crisp and cold. Harry pondered the sanity of this as he raised the bottle of firewhiskey (mixed with Coke, which they had managed to persuade Dobby to find… somehow.) up to his lips. The image of Dobby in a muggle supermarket was a funny one and laughter bubbled out of him the same way the firewhiskey was bubbling down his throat.
"What's so funny?" Duo asked, raising an eyebrow with amusement as Harry snickered to himself.
"Nuffing," Harry said and blinked when the word didn't come out quite as he intended.
"Jesus Christ Harry. Was that a slur? You've only had, like, one bottle!"
Harry frowned. "I've had t-two! This is my first time drinking firewhiskey, shut up."
"I keep forgetting you're underage, you know, since you're expected to save the world."
"Aren't you underage as well?"
"Ehhh, I don't think so." Duo punctuated this with a huge belch and turned away to grab another bottle from the box they had haphazardly tied to the roof spire next to them. "Fuck, I swear I bought more of these," he muttered, hand groping for something that wasn't a pussy butterbeer.
"You don't think so."
"It's hard to tell when you don't know your birthday."
Harry didn't say anything for a moment and could only stare at Duo, his eyes huge. "Y-you don't have a birthday?" he said, voice wobbling as if that was perhaps the saddest thing he'd ever heard.
"Harry, I was a street rat for the majority of my childhood. We don't exactly get birth certificates." Duo's quest for hard liquor proved successful and he straightened up and was startled to find a near tearful Harry. "What - are you crying?"
"No. No," Harry said and hiccupped a little. "Just-"
"Hey, don't worry about it buddy. You're just emotional due to the booze." Duo clapped a hand on Harry's back and pulled him closer in a brotherly gesture. "Us orphans, we're tough right? Look at us, we're sitting on the fucking roof in frigid weather, drinking hardcore whisky and as soon as we hit the New Year, we're giving Hogwarts a fireworks show they won't be forgetting any time soon. How awesome's that?"
Harry considered this and realised that, yeah, this was actually a pretty good New Year and that life wasn't really that awful right now. Sure, he was still a suspect for Cedric's death and Voldemort was still trying to kill him and he still hadn't had his first kiss. 'But,' he mused, the alcohol pleasantly warm inside him and all his homework actually done. 'But it could be worse.' "Yeah, I suppose," he finally said, dropping the empty bottle and watching it clatter down roof tiles into the darkness.
"Good. Don't get bummed out about my shitty circumstances 'kay? Now let's get these babies ready."
For Christmas, the Weasley twins had very thoughtfully sent Harry a bumper pack of their newly developed fireworks, designed to deafen and possibly blind everyone in the immediate vicinity for the next two days. They had also, again very thoughtfully, provided Harry with two pairs of sunglasses and earmuffs just in case. Harry thought that they'd do the 'light-it-then-run-away' routine that was standard with most fireworks, but Duo seemed content just to light the first one and then chuck it nonchalantly off the roof.
"I don't think that's how you-"
"Sure it is!"
The red-hot fizzling end of the fuse became smaller and smaller, twirling as it fell into the shadows. The silence was intense and loaded with expectation.
"Here we go," Duo whispered.
The firework screamed into life and shot through a window with a crash and an ear-splittingshriek. It proceeded to explode inside what Harry guessed was most probably a classroom.
"Hmmm." Duo squinted at the flares of light bursting through the destroyed window below them, shrugged, and reached for another rocket. "Next one."
Harry swiftly jabbed him in the side with an elbow. "You absolute prat."
The rest of the fireworks were aimed upwards, (where they belonged, in Harry's opinion) though Duo had the disconcerting habit of lighting them and merely holding them at arm's length before they shot up into the clear sky. They both lay underneath the blooming lights and bathed in golden sparks that fell around them like snow. The noise was deafening, but so very worth it.
"You know," Harry shouted, raising a new bottle to the sky and briefly admiring the way the lights played on the glass and the bubbles. "This could be your birthday!"
"What?"
"Your birthday! It could be today!"
Duo's laughter contained a wild and loose edge to it, the alcohol having finally dug slightly into his brain. "Naw man. New Year's Day? That'd suck ass. Everyone would be broke and busy with partying and, and, and it'd be really shitty. Come on, don't make today be my birthday."
But Harry had already made up his mind that January 1st was Duo Maxwell's birthday and offered his bottle to Duo in a toast. "To your birthday," Harry said with more solemnity than a drunken toast deserved.
Duo's shoulders sagged dramatically as he relented. "To my birthday," he agreed, knocking the bottles together with a clink. "And to – " Duo stopped, frowned for a moment, but shook off whatever it was. "And to Sir Cadogan and Hagrid's hippogriffs!"
"To Dobby and his tea cosy!"
"To Snape!"
Harry gasped, looking genuinely affronted. "Never."
The rest of the night disappeared in lights and bangs and stupid toasts. In the middle of the night, Harry woke up with his scar burning and a murderous urge in his chest. Alcohol still thrummed in his veins and if he had been able to stand, he would have grabbed the Voldie-doll and probably stabbed it a couple million times. But because his head was still with full of liquid, he rolled over in bed and with a snore, promptly forgot all about it.
Duo's memory of himself about to toast to defeating Voldemort disappeared under the pounding pain of the next morning's hangover.
It was quarter to twelve and Maria exhaled in silver puffs, face lit up in the orange glow of Parliament across the river Thames. It was New Year's Eve and huge crowds of people had gathered to watch the London fireworks, one of the largest displays in the world. Maria spent the previous New Year in Paris, where she had been able to watch the sky around the Eiffel Tower explode in golden stars and feel the same stars trickle down her throat in the form of champagne. But this year it was back home in London for her.
A group of raucous, more than probably tipsy, young men broke out into a premature Auld Lang Syne, but Maria didn't mind. Her mobile buzzed in her handbag and she smiled as she flipped it open, warmth flaring in her chest. 'Hi pet, edinbursfgh is amazing :) wish u wer here xxx' Her Jonny was up in Scotland with the lads and was probably pissed off his face, considering the state of his texting. Still, the fact that he took a moment from his boozing to message her meant something.
There was a collective hush as Big Ben rang out for the first time, the yellow face of the clock bright against the black of the sky. Maria stood on her tiptoes and caught sight of her friends a little bit away and pushed through the mass to join them. Everyone was shouting, clasping hands as they counted down to the New Year with the peals of the bell.
"Ten! Nine!"
Maria reached her friends and they let her into their circle. Someone joked about how it was just like her to always show up in the nick of time, to which Maria replied that she was just 'fashionably late' all the time.
"Eight! Seven! Six!"
The excitement was mounting and 1996 was just a few moments away.
"Five! Fo- "
The first fireworks whizzed upwards and explosions shattered the dark sky. The countdown trickled away and was replaced with murmurs of confusion: "It's too early!" "Must be a technical fault." "Typical. Oh well, that's a shame."
Maria waited for everyone to shrug it off and continue counting. But people were pointing at an unsettling image that had appeared in the sky. A sickly green skull floated high above them. A snake wriggled and squirmed in the skull's mouth and Maria winced as she looked at it. It looked far too real for her tastes. "That's morbid," someone said next to her. "If this is a joke, it's not funny." The fireworks hadn't stopped even with the appearance of the strange apparition. They became brighter, louder, more vivid and –
Someone screamed and it occurred to Maria that the fireworks were getting brighter because they were exploding closer, only a tens of metres away from the crowd and only a little higher than the trees lining the pavement. And suddenly there were fireworks in the crowd; flashes of light and actual fire flaring up at random points along the bank of the river.
It was when a huge snake, formed out of green and red lights and sparks and fire, reared up from the dark water that people started running. Maria stood transfixed as the snake, easily as tall as Big Ben across the Thames, launched itself towards them. Masked figures swooped around it like large bats, shooting jets of light at the fleeing people. Upon closer inspection, they were flying on brooms.
"But," she gasped. "But that can't possibly- that can't possibly-"
And suddenly she was flying, the force of an explosion flinging her through the air like a ragdoll. Her head hit stone when she fell to the ground.
Her handbag lay at her side and her mobile buzzed with a Happy New Year message from Jonny.
End Chapter 7
AN So I was just chilling and eating an ice cream and listening to music when I looked at the date. And realised that it was a Monday. Which is an update day. And this chapter was not ready. So it's 1:12am now and it's unbeta'd which is totally unprofessional so there's like five million mistakes in there and I just want to go to sleep and jhfksjfhks.
Just a couple notes:
1) For my American friends, an off-licence is a liquor store
Oh. I guess only one note. Never mind.
Makurayami Ookami, Goku, mabidiso, Giz-mix, Annoying Little Twit, jgood27, e – you guys are awesome and I love you all. You literally make my life.
