Werewolf Hunting
Disclaimer: You all know the spiel.
Authors Note: Double digits! C'mon!
Chapter Ten: Warning.
Remus lay gasping on the floor, eyes shut tight against the pain, trying to block it out, the cloaked figures' laughter ringing in his ears. He heard their footsteps moving sway from him and the bang of the door slamming shut, locking Remus in his prison once more. Remus finally opened his eyes, staring across the floor, the pain didn't subside fully, it only eased; no longer the excruciating agony, but a dull constant ache. He wished he knew how long he had been here, a couple of days at least, though he didn't know for how long he slept, or fell unconscious for. The cloaked men came frequently. There was almost never a period of time when Remus was awake that they didn't come. Each time they came they taunted him then tortured him, leaving him sobbing on his prison floor. Remus managed to roll onto his back, staring at the roof as he struggled to breathe properly. His body gave a spontaneous shudder, an after effect of the curse they placed upon him. Spasmodic twitches raced through his body, causing him to wince. From the depths of Remus' mind came a thought that he struggled to repress to no avail.
Is anybody even looking for me?
Remus shook his head lightly. Of course they were, why wouldn't they
Why should they?
Remus whimpered. No. James, Sirius and Peter would have done something they would have gone to Dumbledore. His parents would have been told. Dumbledore would be doing something to find him.
How can you be so sure?
Remus thumped his head back onto the floor. No. They will. They are.
Please let them find me.
"Please" Remus whispered softly into the air.
---
Moody and Boewyn sat around a fire with the gypsies, after a long day of travelling they had stopped for the night. Now Moody sat between Brishen and Sarika, who was the King's daughter. Boewyn sat with Velor and his wife Rozalia, laughing and joking, obvious comfortable with the gypsies. There was a few other gypsies too, but Moody could recall their names. As the gypsies talked they passed around a bottle of a emerald green liquid which Moody had a feeling was Absinthe. He politely passed much to the amusement of the gypsies. Boewyn on the other hand...
Moody had a feeling that man would drink anything if it had any trace of alcohol in it.
It was very late when the gypsies went to bed, and despite the fact that there was always one on guard, Moody didn't sleep the best. He wasn't one to sleep out in the open like this, as it was he slept lightly with his hand tightly wrapped around his wand.
---
Boewyn rode alongside Velor the next day. Boewyn liked the gypsy king; he had a good sense of humour, told good stories and had good taste in drinks. Just the kind of man Boewyn felt he could get along with. Most of the day was spent listening to Velor telling stories of past travels and adventures, Boewyn matching them with some of his own stories.
It was noon when Boewyn got a feeling of unease. He shifted in the saddle, listening closely. They were moving along a dirt road that seemed to be little used, trees lined one side, a cliff-face lined the other. The result was an isolated area. Nobody could see you travelling along it, but then again, you couldn't see if anybody was in the trees or not. Boewyn shifted again reaching a hand into the small satchel he had with him, which contained the items he had gotten from Micah plus several personal effects of his own. His fingers brushed over a familiar sensation of cold steel calming him slightly. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed Velor's grip had tightened on the reins. Velor looked sideways at him raising an eyebrow.
"You get trouble on this road, Velor?" Boewyn muttered softly
"Sometimes, a few renegades here and there, brief scuffles. Nothing we can't handle." Came the reply. Boewyn merely nodded. Velor twisted slightly in the saddle, looking behind them at Brishen, his hands flickering a signal. Brishen nodded and handed the reins across to Sarika. Leaning into the caravan he withdrew a cloth covered bundle. Boewyn didn't have to be told they were weapons. The other gypsies in the caravan at the end caught on and they too grabbed weapons. Boewyn noticed Moody sticking a hand into his travelling cloak. Boewyn knew it would be grasping his wand.
"Lets hope these renegades will take a hint and avoid us." Velor said softly.
Boewyn chuckled, once more feeling the steel beneath his fingertips.
They rode in silence, every single person alert and aware. It happened quickly, some things burst through the trees, and it took Boewyn only a moment to react. His hand closing around the steel and drawing a gun from the bag, in an instant he had fired. He saw a flash of red as Moody fired a spell from behind him. The gypsies hadn't reacted yet, Boewyn couldn't blame him, they would never have had seen something like this is in real life before. Two of the centaurs which attacked went down, one shot, the other stunned. Boewyn and Moody both fired again before the gypsies reacted, drawing their weapons as they too attacked. Boewyn used his horse to his advantage, the beast's height giving Boewyn a better view of the centaurs, giving him a better shot. There were only half a dozen centaurs. Moody's second spell had taken down another, Boewyn's second shot catching his target in the leg, causing it to fall. Velor rode down on it armed with a sword, slicing deep into creature's throat. Boewyn shot another between the eyes, Brishan killed one with a crossbow and Velor managed to gut the last. Boewyn took a deep breath, the uneasy feeling fading slightly, yet he didn't loosen the grip on his gun. Moody jumped of the caravan and made his way to Boewyn.
"Think that's it?" he inquired
"What you asking me for, Al? You're the fully trained Auror who's been doing this kind thing for years. You should be able to tell yourself." Boewyn retorted. Moody glared, Boewyn beamed.
"Now all we have to do is obliviate the muggles." Moody sighed, his voice barely audible.
"You two didn't seem too surprised about that." Announced Velor; indicating the dead centaurs. His eyes were suspicious as he watched them.
Boewyn dismounted his horse and walked over to the centaurs. They were relatively thin things. No doubt outcasts from their herds, although why they would attack humans was beyond Boewyn, Moody looked like he was trying to come up with a cover story, Boewyn decided the best would be the truth.
"They're centaurs, Velor."
"Centaurs are myths!" shouted a gypsy called Girvyn.
"Tell that to them. Not that they'd hear you or anything, because, well, they're kinda dead." Boewyn looked at the centaurs, blood and gore spreading beneath them. "More than dead I'd say actually, more very dead. Dead dead." Boewyn went silent as he pondered just how dead the centaurs were. A voice clearing it's throat brought him back to reality with a squelch. He turned to Moody,
"Huh? What?"
He nodded with his head to Velor.
"Oh right yes, of course. Not surprised, right! Ok, I'm back on top! Yes I am! Indeedy! Well, they are centaurs, very real centaurs and Al and I live where centaurs are quite well known. Why they attacked us however, I have no idea. That doesn't seem to be the kind of thing centaurs do." Moody was staring at Boewyn wide-eyed.
"Oh don't look at me like that, Al"
Moody made a stream of noises. Boewyn thought he made out the word 'secrecy' amongst it all.
"Oh, screw the international statue of secrecy, Al. Who're they going to tell? They're gypsies, anyone they do tell will say it's just another gypsy story."
Moody was still gaping at Boewyn, who rolled his eyes.
"Ok, Ok, here we go, let's try this. Velor, you have to promise us, swear to us, that you will tell no one what had transpired today. Everything you gave seen, everything we have and will say, you must take with you to your graves. Telling anyone could be the start of something that no one will be able to stop, something that may cost hundreds of lives." Boewyn raised an eyebrow as he looked at Velor. He was regarding him thoughtfully.
"I think..." Velor started slowly, "That we should sit down and hear more of this story first. Then we shall promise." Boewyn nodded, "very well then Velor, but first I suggest we move them" he nodded towards to centaurs, at least of the road. The animals can get rid of what's left."
They moved the centaur's corpses and then moved up the road a way until they reached a small gap in the trees, there they sat down and Boewyn gave a basic explanation.
"I still think you're doing the wrong thing." Moody growled.
"Plan to obliviate everyone? Then what? Well go on, pretending that they're all just missing an hour or two? A little inconvenient if you ask me." Boewyn was cheerful again.
"Don't worry, friend Al. We shall tell no one. Boewyn is right. Anyone we would tell would put it as another gypsy tale." Velors voice was solemn. "I can not blame you for being wary though."
Moody grunted. Boewyn laughed at him. "Now, Velor. Shall we continue?" Velor laughed outright, "Yes, we shall. Come, it's going to take longer to get where we are heading after this mess." He rose to his feet.
"Let's move out" he ordered.
Boewyn and Moody hung back whilst the gypsies prepared to get moving again.
"There was something suspicious about those centaurs." Moody noted
"Really? I just thought they wanted to say hi."
"This isn't a laughing matter." Moody barked
"I'm not laughing. I'm just voicing an opinion here."
"Well you're opinion is not wanted!"
"Well why come and say something to me if you don't want an opinion?"
"Because you're the one tracking the kid! I would have thought that something like this would be important to you in helping find him!"
"You're the one who wants to find the kid. I'm just helping because you're paying me too."
"You are really beginning to get on my nerves, do you know that."
Boewyn gave him a radiant smile.
"I love you too, Al."
Moody was beginning to think Boewyn's mum had to right idea and wondered how much was too much when charging gypsies for a young, relatively healthy fool.
He amused himself for the rest the next few hours by imagining Boewyn in chains and a jester's hat.