A/N (Part 1): Wow, I almost forgot it was time to update and post the next chapter. I'm sure that would have made several of you quite angry. Let me just say that I've been having a crazy, crazy, crazy day. I somehow got roped into being a banner carrier for one club for our College's Homecoming Parade this morning. The crazy thing is that I'm not even in the club; I just taught them how to march . . .

Any who, enough of my excuses. Here is chapter eight as written by the wonderful Jinxeh. Who, by the way, is in the process of writing Chapter 16 (I do hope that is going well for you). So as always, enjoy and leave lots of nice review!

.:Alexis:.


Chapter 8: A Mutant?

"No! Her name is Rahne!" exclaimed Rogue through gritted teeth, glaring at the man across her from on the other side of the counter with such a look of spiteful vehemence that it was apparent that she meant business, "Fourteen years old! Red hair! Talks with this dorky Scottish accent! Have ya seen her?" she asked for what seemed to be the fifteenth time. The man just blinked at her in confusion.

"Lotsa people come in 'ere, missy," he said evenly, "It's not my job to keep track of 'em all."

It seemed like the mutants had hit a dead end in their search. The moment they had all entered into what they now knew was The Leaky Cauldron, things had gone from bad and weird, to worse…and downright bizarre. Rogue seemed to be one of the only mutants who didn't find themselves rooted to the spot while staring around them in shock besides Logan and Jean.

Cadence and Remy were standing in one of the corners, their eyes wide for different reasons as they surveyed the scene around them: The broomstick that was sweeping up the floor of its own accord, the wash cloth cleaning mugs on its own behind the counter next to the almost toothless old barman, and even the bizarre-looking people sitting at the counter and the various tables. Cadence couldn't fit it into her previous training and Remy just couldn't believe it. Scott was pacing around in front of the counter beside Rogue, waiting impatiently for her to finish talking to the man behind the counter.

Logan was walking around the large place slowly, his nostrils moving rapidly as he searched for any scent of the Scottish girl. He had been able to pick up her unique scent outside, but it was barely distinguishable in this place. So many people went in and out of it that it was no wonder he could barely smell her anymore. Logan couldn't help but sense the strong scent of cinnamon; it was so overpowering it almost wanted to make him hurl.

Jean was walking around at about the same pace as Logan, her eyes narrowed and her mouth set into a grim frown. She was searching in vain for the missing girl, and her mind was pulling her back towards the doorway of the pub; or more specifically, towards the table in the nearest corner towards it. She reached it at about the same time that Logan did. Luckily, there was no one sitting at it.

"She was right here," Logan growled, narrowing his eyes at the empty space. "I can smell 'er…but…she was with someone," he added with a distinct tone of distaste. Whoever this person was that she had been with, he didn't like his scent one bit. Jean frowned and gazed down at the seat nearest to the corner.

"I can sense her…it's like she was here recently, and left a small part of her behind…" she said, not even trying to mask her confusion. "She was right…here…and then it's like she just disappeared," she added, pointing to a spot a couple of feet away from the table.

"This ain't good…" Logan sighed. "An' the most I can get from anyone here was that there was some kinda ruckus over here. But by the time they turned around there wasn't nothin' to see…"

"Do you think she was kidnapped, then?" Jean asked uncertainly. This whole thing didn't make sense…the pub they were in, the people around them…and why would anyone want to kidnap a fourteen-year-old mutant girl?

"I don't know what to think," answered the gruff mutant man with the shake of his head. "Frankly, this whole place is confusin' me. Look around ya, at that broom and those clothes…and these people, for god's sake…the cinnamon…"

"These people aren't mutants, are they?" Jean asked, turning around once more to observe the place that they were in. The only explanation that she could come up with was that they had somehow found themselves stumbling into some sort of mutant haven…but then why couldn't they even read the name of the place above the door when they were standing outside, on the street?

"Non…dese people ain't mutants," answered a somewhat surly voice, though this time it wasn't Logan who answered her. Both turned to see that Remy and Cadence had sauntered up, Cadence still looking around in suspicion, while he was hunched over, his eyes narrowed and his hands thrust in his pockets. "Dey ain't what ya'd think dey are, either…"

"You know somethin' about this, Cajun?" Logan growled his eyes narrowed as he surveyed the still slightly tipsy Cajun man. Remy shrugged and looked over his shoulder at Rogue, who was still arguing with the barman by the counter before answering.

"Non…not about Rahne, anyways. I t'ink I know who dese people are, though," he said in a quiet voice.

It had come to Remy on the streets of what "The Leaky Cauldron" might have been, though he had been reluctant to voice his opinion to the others. He was sure that they would have thought him to be completely insane, if not still drunk…and then what if he had been wrong about it? They would have never let him live that one down, and he knew it.

But then he had walked in and seen all of the strange things going on, like the strangely-dressed people who had given the mutants wary glances when they had walked in, and the way all of the cleaning supplies were doing their jobs without any help from anyone…yes, it had to be what he had first thought.

'Well I'll be,' he thought sourly. 'Dat Bill Weasley wasn't no joke den…'

Meanwhile, Rogue had become very fed-up with the barman. Eventually she pulled a pen from the black little belt-purse hanging loosely around her waist and grabbed a cloth napkin from a stack beside her on the counter. Scott stopped pacing and turned around with a worried expression on his face, his sunglasses flashing dangerously. He was no doubt a little concerned about Rogue and her temper when thinking of the barman.

"Here," she said furiously, scribbling three different phone numbers onto the cloth despite the look the barman was giving her for defiling his napkin, "I'm writin' these down for ya, okay? The first one's Logan's cell number like it says, and he's the man standing over there threatening the man with the red hair. The second is the cell number for a woman named Ororo; she's a friend of ours. The third's to the hotel where we're staying; just ask for the Xavier group and they'll put ya through," she said, finishing the last number and slamming the napkin down in front of Tom.

He took it daintily and stared at the numbers with a blank expression for a moment before he looked up at the southern Goth in confusion.

"And what do you expect me to do with this?" he asked bleakly. Rogue sighed in frustration and ran a hand through her hair, forcing herself not to go off and pummel the guy right then and there, no matter how old he was.

"If ya hear anything about the girl, Rahne, then ya need to call us," she said between gritted teeth. "Ask around and stuff, all right? There's a missin' girl out there, and we need ta find her," she said in more of a threatening way than a worried one. "If ya hear anything, then call," she added before stalking away and leaving him standing there with the napkin. Scott looked at Tom in pity for a moment before he followed her.

"What are you talkin' about, Cajun?" asked Logan dangerously as Rogue and Scott rejoined the small group, everyone looking at the Cajun as they waited for him to answer. Remy didn't answer at first; he glanced around the bar once and then around to the faces of those mutant around them. He sighed and ran a hand through his dark reddish-brown hair, looking straight at Logan as he spoke.

"Well…Remy can't be too sure a' dis…but he t'ink dat dese people here might be wizards."

XXXXXXXXXX

Rahne's home was not at all like what Remus had first expected. He had known, of course, the whereabouts of his daughter's location during her earlier years with her foster parents, but had never been there himself to see it. Afraid that he would be followed and caught, he had entrusted Albus Dumbledore to take Rahne for him. He had never met her adoptive parents before in his life, but from what the elder professor had told him they were pleasant people, and could be trusted.

Apparently the man, Craig, was a squib whereas his wife, Amelia, was a muggle, through and through. It had been known since they were married that Amelia was unable to have children, though they had wanted one so badly…so it was lucky for them that Craig was an acquaintance of Dumbledore himself. Uncaring of Rahne's werewolf parentage, they took her in with the promise of raising her as their own.

Their house was pleasant seeming that morning as Remus and Dumbledore strode towards it across their front lawn. Set apart, but not too much so, from a large Scotland town it had a farm-like quality to it, with lovely country scenery; surrounded by fields and other farms in the distance.

The house was a small two-level style white farm house with black shutters and a grey-slated roof. Next to it stood an enormous red barn bigger than the house was, with twin silos set apart from it on the other side. There were a half-dozen grey and white chickens walking around in front of the barn, pecking at the gravel driveway in hopes of finding spilt corn and pellets and an ancient-looking bloodhound was sitting on the nicely-furnished wooden front porch, nestled in the shade of the large hanging ferns. It was definitely a farm, but a nice one at that.

Remus couldn't help but stare at everything as they went past, just imagining that his own daughter, his own flesh and blood, had walked in the same places as he. She had played on the tire swing hanging from the large tree in the front yard. She had walked up and down the wooden front steps more times than he could have imagined. She had played in that same grassy front yard when she had been just a little toddler.

He fought back the lump in his throat as they walked across the driveway and made their way up the front steps, their steps creaking dangerously on the wooden boards, though it still seemed sturdy enough. The bloodhound lifted its head just slightly as they walked up to the front door and stared at them for a moment with sad brown eyes. Seeming to decide that they weren't important enough to bark at, it lowered its head once more and fell back asleep.

Dumbledore knocked sharply on the white-painted door and then stepped back next to Remus. He waited patiently for someone to arrive and answer it, his face showing that he thought nothing at all to be wrong. Remus was wringing his hands together nervously; unsure of what he was going to say to these people when he saw them.

He felt a stab of jealousy when he even thought of that. These people had been blessed with raising his child…and there he was, the father, and he had been forced to give her up when she had only been a year old. They had been there for her during her childhood and he never had. He wondered what Rahne thought of him…if she ever thought of him at all, that was…

Finally they heard footsteps approaching the doorway and a moment later there was a creaking sound as the inside screen door was pulled open, and then the front door. A woman stood there, looking between the two wizards with a confused expression, her tired eyes blinking wildly as she struggled to see them better in the bright morning light. Her dark red hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail and her green eyes were bright, but she looked as if she had woken up not too long ago. She wore a pair of grey sweatpants and a loose blue sweater under a loosely-tied burgundy night robe.

Finally she seemed to recognize Dumbledore, and she smiled at him before pulling the door open and stepping back to allow him admittance, which he took. Remus followed right after him, not being able to help but glance again at Rahne's adoptive mother as he passed.

He was now standing in a small but nice kitchen, on a polished hardwood floor. The cabinets were stained wood and the walls were painted white, with yellow and red tiling with a pattern of chickens and pigs. There was a round wooden table in the room connected to the kitchen, and at that table sat a man who looked like he had been in the middle of reading a newspaper when Dumbledore had knocked on the door. He had sandy brown hair and pleasant brown eyes, with tanned skin and visible lines on his face; crows-feet in the corner of his eyes, and laugh lines around his mouth. He seemed like a person that would be enjoyable to be around, even on first glance.

"Albus, what a pleasure ta see ye again!" he said, his accent thick as he stood and shook Dumbledore's hand as he walked up to them. "Wasn't expectin' ye around anytime soon, though…" he added in a slightly confused tone as he let go of his hand and stood up all of the way, walking away from his chair.

"Can I get you some coffee, or tea?" asked Amelia doubtfully, sidling up next to her husband. She cast a glance over to Remus, unsure of who this strange man in his tattered robes was, but was polite enough not to outright ask.

"No…no thank you, Amelia," said Dumbledore pleasantly, "though you yourselves may wish to sit down. There is a matter of importance of which we should discuss."

Lupin had to admire the way that Dumbledore could get people to do what he wanted them too, even in their own homes. Amelia and Craig Sinclair took their seats at the wooden table, and he and Dumbledore sat across from them.

"Is there something wrong?" Craig asked uncertainly, being the first person to break the short and uneasy silence. He might not have had the keen senses that his adoptive daughter did, but even he could tell that something was wrong. The man with Dumbledore seemed to be very fidgety, and even the professor himself had a worried look in his light blue eyes.

"Yes, actually," Dumbledore said sadly. "I hate to question your parenting and all…but do you have any idea as to where Rahne is right now?" he asked, deciding to get right to the point. He observed, with a small amount of interest, the way Amelia's face suddenly and very rapidly paled, while Craig's eyes suddenly took on a rather worried look to them.

"Well…oh dear…" said Amelia doubtfully, but then suddenly looking relieved, "Wait…of course ye wouldn't know, now would ye? Rahne's in America right now, dontcha know? She's goin' ta school there now, a school for the gifted, too," she added, with a certain amount of pride after a moment of hesitation. "The Xavier Institute for Gifted Youngsters, it's called."

For some reason, Remus felt a small wave of pride because of this as well. His daughter was going to a school for the gifted? But why had Amelia hesitated at first before telling them.

"We should 'ave told ye the last time ye were here, Albus," added Craig hastily. "But we weren't completely sure then if we were going ta allow her ta go back. She certainly wanted ta…she was rather sad when we pulled her out the first time. If ya do remember, the last time ya came she was a bit glum. But we decided that it was a good opportunity fer her education. Is that why yer here? Ye didn't know she was in America is all?"

Dumbledore, however, shook his head, dashing the Sinclair's hopes that he had simply not known about her American education. Amelia had thought that he thought her to be missing, not knowing of her leaving the country.

"No…I am asking this because recently; well, yesterday actually, she was spotted in London by a former auror that I know very well."

"Oh…that," said Amelia, waving a hand dismissively, "Yes, Rahne had called us up the day before. Told us she was goin' on a field trip ta London…but we didn't think it was going ta be that soon," she added with a frown. Why hadn't her daughter told her that the trip was planned to be that soon? It all seemed to be somewhat rushed in her opinion…

"No...actually she was spotted in The Leaky Cauldron," said Dumbledore, this time looking straight at Craig, who suddenly seemed very pale. No matter if he lived in London or not, he knew of the tavern. It was one of the central ways to get into Diagon Alley, after all. But why would Rahne have been there? That was a wizarding place, and he had never hinted about magic to her before…

"I…I see," said Craig nervously. Amelia obviously had no idea what was going on; she was looking between all of the men quickly, from her ashen-faced husband to the professor that he knew, and then to the stony-faced and grim-seeming chap sitting next to him who had yet to utter a single word.

"Wot's wrong?" she asked quickly, her heart pounding in her chest in fear. Was something wrong with Rahne? "Sweetie, wot is it?"

"The Leaky Cauldron is a wizarding pub, Amelia," said Craig tiredly, lowering her eyes to the table and thinking hard. "But…but that doesn't make sense! Rahne don't know nothin' 'bout the magical world! We never told 'er anything…so how could she 'ave wound up there?" he asked in confusion.

"Just as you, a squib, can see such things as Dementors and magically guarded buildings, Craig," said Dumbledore patiently, not even looking over to Remus, who had suddenly clenched his jaw, "Rahne too can see such things. Her parents were a witch and a wizard, and although you yourself have stated that she has shown no sign of magic, she can obviously see such things too.

"What concerns me about this, is that when my auror friend walked in to the pub and spotted Rahne she appeared to be very distressed. She was attempting to use a muggle telephone and seemed positively frantic that it would not work. She was also much disheveled and out of breath. All signs pointed to the fact that she was recently being pursued, though by whom we do not know."

"Rahne? Being chased?" Amelia gasped, putting a hand upon her chest and looking downright terrified. "Oh…oh my goodness! Is she all right? I mean…she's all right now, ain't she?"

"I'm afraid we aren't sure of her whereabouts as of right now," said Dumbledore carefully, not obvious to the horrified stares that he was now receiving from the Sinclairs. "I do not mean to alarm you, but it seems that she had the unfortunate luck to come across the path of a known Death Eater, who recognized her almost instantly as being the daughter of Liona Lupin."

Remus was now looking determinedly down at the woodwork of the table as though fascinated, blinking his eyes rapidly while still wringing his hands together under the table, for a loss as to what else to do with them.

"A Death…a Death Eater?" responded Craig weakly, suddenly gripping one of his wife's hands in his own. She too looked afraid; even though she was a muggle, she had heard of Death Eaters before. "Why…wot 'appened? Did…I mean…she wasn't taken…was she?" he asked this last part desperately, as fearful tears suddenly came to his wife's eyes. Dumbledore nodded gravely.

"I am afraid that she was. My auror friend saw the danger she was in and attempted to warn her without alerting this Death Eater to his own presence, but we believe that the man put her under the Imperius Curse to control her. He and Rahne disapparated before the auror could strike, though he did try. As soon as this was realized, my friend contacted Rahne's biological father who, in turn, contacted me. This man here, as you seem to have come to the conclusion of already, is Rahne's biological father, Remus Lupin."

"I thought that might 'ave been as so," said Craig quietly as Remus looked up and nodded gravely, then speaking again for the first time.

"We thought that you might have deserved to know all of this," he said, his voice somewhat hoarse at the moment. "But we also came for the answers to some questions that we had. We thought you might have known why she was being chased in the first place, as we doubted it was Death Eaters who were first chasing her. Our auror friend said that Rahne seemed halfway trusting of Pet-of…the Death Eater when they were talking, so it couldn't have been him."

"Well, of course we wouldn't know…" said Amelia fearfully. "How many enemies could a fourteen-year-old girl have?" she asked desperately. "And…well…don't you 'ave any idea of where she might be?"

"Not yet, but we plan on finding out," promised Dumbledore. "But you don't have any clue as to why she was being chased? No threats were made against her?" he asked doubtfully. He always had thought it to be very strange that Rahne had two very powerful parents, and yet turned out to have no abilities of her own. It happened, of course, but it had still always struck him as strange. For all he knew, she could have shown some vaguely wolf-like tendencies, and some prejudiced wizards had problems accepting even that.

"Well…no," said Craig, though with perhaps too much haste and too little reassurance to make either of the two wizards really believe him. "Well…no, not directly…and I 'ave already told you that she is not a werewolf, as she never transformed durin' the full moon…"

"Oh Craig…just tell 'em," whispered Amelia, giving his hand an extra squeeze for comfort. "He is her father…he deserves to know this too…"

By this time, Lupin was looking between the two with a confused expression as though expecting to find an answer to his own silent questions in their worried faces. There was obviously something that he was missing out on here, but he had no idea what it was. Craig looked back at Amelia with a worried expression, but turned away again as she gave him a supportive smile, and continuing.

"Well…she isn't a werewolf…but we've come ta the conclusion that she ain't exactly…normal…either," said Craig in an apologetic tone, having no other word to use except for "normal" and feeling ashamed that he had referred to Rahne as such. He couldn't even bring himself to look at her real father; he was afraid of what he might have seen there. "Ya see…about a year ago we got this house-call from a man callin' 'imself Charles Xavier. Said he was from the States and wanted to offer a place fer Rahne at 'is school. He said it was a school fer the gifted, and it is…but not gifted like ya'd think…"

"We didn't know what to think at first," added Amelia nervously, unable to take her eyes away from Remus Lupin. She had never met the man before, but she felt such pity for him that it was almost overwhelming. She could easily see the pain in his eyes and it made her hurt as well. The poor man…having to give up his daughter like he did…and yet she was thankful for it, or else they would have never gotten Rahne. Craig continued, looking at Dumbledore as he spoke.

"You see…this Xavier man wanted Rahne at his school because she possessed a special quality that not many other teenagers 'ave. It's a unique quality…but one that many people don' like either way, and that coulda put 'er in danger. See, the Xavier Institute…it's a school for mutants. Rahne…Rahne's a mutant."

XXXXXXXXXXX

"Why are we coming back here if we already know that she's gone?" asked Tonks dubiously as she and the others walked in to "The Leaky Cauldron" that very same morning after it had officially opened. She was with Bill and Charlie Weasley at the time, and it was they who followed her in.

The place was empty except for Tom the barman, who was cleaning out glass mugs with his wand and a dish towel behind the bar. With the morning rays of sun beaming dimly through the dusty windows, it just allowed for them all to see how dark and dusty it really was in the place.

"Because Moody barely had time to question anyone at all and wanted us to come back and do so," answered Bill tiredly. "Not that it will matter since the same people won't be here except Tom the barman…but maybe we can find some clue as to where Pettigrew took the kid."

"Who is this girl, anyways?" asked Tonks as they stopped in the middle of the empty tavern and looked around in bemusement. "Relative of someone's from the Order?"

"Well…Fred and George told me…" began Charlie with a frown. "Well…they said that this girl, Rahne…she supposed to be Lupin's daughter. I don't know if that's true or not; that's just what they told me." Tonks' face paled instantly.

"Could be true," surmised Bill, not taking notice of the suddenly shocked expression on Tonk's face. "I overheard mum and dad talking about him having a kid once, but Remus had to give her up after his wife was killed. Bloody idiotic, if you ask me…"

"And now Pettigrew's supposed to have her," finished Charlie tiredly. "Which, as you can guess, is not a good thing." He added, turning around as he saw that Tom had come out of the back room with a napkin in hand. He had apparently overheard at least some of their conversation, but for some reason he looked a little irritated about it.

"You too, eh?" he asked snappily, not at all acting like the cheery man they all somewhat knew. "When are you people gonna leave me alone? I already told those other people, I ain't never heard of any 'Rahne' character, and she ain't here!"

"Whoa…Tom…" said Charlie in amazement, walking over to the counter quickly. "Hold up! There were other people here asking about this Rahne girl? Who was it?" he asked. His first thought was that it might have been Death Eaters that were looking for her…but that hardly made any sense. If they already had her, then they wouldn't be asking questions about her…unless, of course, they were asking for her before she was taken in effort to locate her…

"How am I supposed to know?" answered Tom with a grim scowl, holding up the napkin. "Some frightening girl gave me these telyfoam numbers things…what am I supposed to do with 'em, though? If ya want 'em, take 'em," he said, throwing the napkin at Charlie, who caught them easily. His eyes went over the numbers and the names with them carefully.

"Logan, Ororo…and Xavier's group," he said thoughtfully. "No…those definitely don't sound like Death Eaters…"

"I don't want to hear of it!" Tom exclaimed, covering his ears and turning around, walking back into the back room. Apparently he was not a big fan of talks about Death Eaters.

"What are we going to do?" asked Tonks nervously, glancing at the napkin over Charlie's shoulder. He shrugged and turned around, then beginning to walk back towards the doorway with the others following right behind him.

"I'm guessing that we are going to use a telyfoam and call these people up," he said evenly. "Now…who knows how to use a telyfoam?"

XXXXXXXXXX

Lord Voldemort watched with a certain amount of amusement as the girl came to once more, after Pettigrew had cast the spell to wake her up. She was leaned up against the wall next to the doorway to his chambers, the dim lighting causing her to look sickly, even pale, as she lied there, unconscious. Lucius watched from a small distance, holding an empty vial in one of his pale hands, an empty vial that had once held a small, yet strong, amount of Veritaserum. Pettigrew stood up and backed away after he had administered the spell, his wand still in his hand as he watched the girl carefully.

Her bright eyes now dull, and her once furious expression simmered down to one of slight content and minor bemusement, she blinked her eyes slowly, not seeming perturbed about her situation at all anymore, as though nothing was wrong. The Dark Lord smiled cruelly; he recognized the effects of Veritaserum upon the young girl's face. Now it was time to get some answers to his questions.

"What is your name?" he asked, slowly stepping forwards, his tone seeming to hang in the air with each syllable that was said. The girl gave a slight start and then blinked once, twice, three times before answering.

"Rahne Sinclair…Lupin…" she said, a slight tone of annoyance and bemusement evident in her voice. The name 'Sinclair' was foreign to him, but the one of 'Lupin' was one he knew of very well.

"Well, which is it?" he asked, narrowing his red eyes upon her petite form.

"Both," she answered. "I was adopted."

"By the werewolf, Lupin?"

"By the Sinclairs," she muttered, her head lolling around on her shoulders as though she were fighting off the urge to fall asleep. He ignored this; that was an expected effect of the serum.

"Is Remus Lupin your father?" he demanded as Pettigrew suddenly took on an uncomfortable look once more, which he also ignored. Slowly, the girl nodded deeply, her chin falling almost to her chest in the process as though she were a muggle bobble head toy. "I see…how interesting," he said with a discernable and wicked smile. So Pettigrew had been right, for once…the girl could indeed prove to be very useful to the Dark Lord…

"Can you change your form at will?" he asked suspiciously, remembering how she had suddenly lashed out with her claws when she had lunged out of the small room she had been kept in. Now, looking at the rather small girl sitting before him, it was difficult to think that they were the same person.

"Yes," she answered in a slow drawl. There was no hesitation at all in her voice, much to Lord Voldemort's pleasure.

"How? Are you an animagus?"

"Don't know wot that is…"

"Come now…" said the Dark Lord in a dangerously low voice. In his mind, there was no way that the girl could not have known what an animagus was, even an unregistered one. Her father was supposedly one of the wizards working against him for the blasted Order of the Phoenix, after all… "How is it that you can change your form?"

"I can do it by thinking about it," she muttered in response, her glassy eyes blinking rapidly though it seemed that she was still under the spell of the serum. "It's my ability."

"What kind of ability?" the Dark Lord asked, beginning to lose his patience although he knew that the girl was answering the questions she was given as fast as the serum would allow her to. Lord Voldemort was not, it seemed, a very patient kind of man.

"My mutant ability."

Her response brought different reactions to the three men that were in the same room as she was. Lucius didn't respond at first; he seemed content to allow his face to pale to an even further degree while he raised an eyebrow, while inside he suddenly felt a wave of apprehension. Pettigrew began to wring his hands together, his eyes wide and his movements very twitchy, though he too made no sound to show that he had heard what the girl had just said.

The Dark Lord had another reaction completely. He was not at all afraid of the girl, as of course he would not have been anyways, but nor was he completely indifferent by her answer. It certainly did explain more than one thing for him…but altogether it was surprising. He had not expected the daughter of such a powerful wizard as Remus Lupin to have a mutation, though…

"A mutant?" he asked amusedly. "Really? Then tell me, Rahne Lupin…what is your…mutation?"

"Wolf-like qualities and senses, the ability to morph into a full or half-wolf, or wildcat, or whatever my emotions allow me to do at the time of the transformation," said Rahne promptly, seeming like she had written the book on wolf-like mutations. The Dark Lord raised an eyebrow, his slit of a mouth twisting itself into a wicked grin.

It was beginning to make sense for him now. If the daughter of a powerful werewolf would have to be a mutant, then it made sense that her mutant abilities would somehow reflect the wolf-like tendencies of her father. Although the Dark Lord knew very little of mutants let alone genetics, as they were not very common in the wizarding world (if there had ever been any, that is…) he knew that Pettigrew had brought him something special.

"Pettigrew," said the Dark Lord, turning to the smaller man that was standing off to the side. "Where did you say you found her, again?"

"The Leaky Cauldron, m'lord," stuttered the small man, immediately quailing now that the gaze of the Dark Lord was now resting on him instead of the girl. "She'd just…run inside, all out of breath and like…"

"You're saying she was being pursued?" Lucius cut in sharply.

"Well…I s-saw two muggle boys run past t-the tavern, yes…but they were just muggles; I know they were," said Pettigrew hastily. "They weren't Order members, I swear they weren't…"

However, by this time Lucius was no longer looking at Peter, but was now looking to his lord with an expression of distaste. Once, his eyes flickered over towards the spellbound girl and it was clear to see the revulsion upon his face, but he managed to return his expression to normal when looking back to Voldemort.

"My lord…" he said smoothly. "Although I agree that such a girl could prove … useful … to our cause … I must say that mutants, although sometimes powerful, are the lowest species of them all, below muggles even. To even associate with one…" he began, then thinking better of it. "My lord…mutants are worse than the mudbloods that we so despise. While the impure blood of some wizards is tainted with muggle blood, mutants actually are muggles. And what is worse is that they are muggles that have transmuted far beyond what could even be called human."

"And you assume I do not know any of this?" asked Voldemort easily, causing Lucius to falter and become quiet before he could begin to say what he had been about to add. "Malfoy…I know to what extent the lowliness of employing a mutant to do our bidding would be…but I must say, the outcome of doing so would be well worth it," he added with a vicious smirk.

"Pettigrew," he said suddenly, turning towards the smaller man. "That will be all we need from her for now. Put her back under the Imperius Curse and put her into the room in the basement. Reinforce the door. We wouldn't want her escaping now, when we might find some use for her…"

And with that he was gone, having walked smoothly out of the room and past the two other men. Lucius gave the girl one last look of revulsion before turning around and sweeping out of the room, leaving Pettigrew alone with her. He sighed once before pulling out his wand and aiming it at the girl.

"Imperio!"


A/N (part 2): After reading through this chapter I thought I would take some time to explain something that I've been slipping in: The seemingly random comments from Logan and Cadence about smelling cinnamon (they're in this chapter and Chapter 3 (They may be elsewhere, but I don't remember)). Those are planned (at least by me) and they are supposed to make since, and I hope you'll have figured it out. But if not, I'll explain.

Magic . . . smells . . . like cinnamon.

In the Harry Potter books, J.K. assigns certain colors to spells (The Stunning Spell is red jet of light, and The Killing Curse is a green mass of light) and one day I asked myself, "What would magic smell like?" With the ultra sensitive noses of Cadence, Logan, and Rahne (when she's in any sort of wolf form) I figured that they would be able to smell the discharge of a spell, jinx, curse, etc.

Thus, I have decreed that magic will smell like cinnamon.

This little tidbit holds no relevance to the story, just something funny I thought I would throw in. And if you had picked up on this before now, brownie points to you!