Werewolf Hunting
Disclaimer: I'm not your mum. You don't have to be told these things.
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Authors Note: Having serious problems getting this where I want it. The other day I discovered my ending, I know what I want to happen, problem is I need to get there... eh gad!
Chapter Twelve: Thinking
Moody opened his eyes with a groan, only to shut them immediately. Of all the things he didn't want to see when he opened his eyes, Boewyn manically grinning face looking down at him had to be the number one, neon lighted, sign posted, megaphone blaring top thing on the list. The last thing was wanted to hear was the voice that accompanied that face.
"You alright there, Al?" Boewyn didn't sound concerned, it was more said in the way that Boewyn couldn't care less, but it was the polite thing to say.
"I'm fine" Moody growled, then realised something.
"Why am I wet?" He was trying to keep his voice calm. Boewyn laughed,
"Yeah, about that, sorry! Slight miscalculation. Still at least we're only wet and not dead." Boewyn was still grinning as he leant back, resuming trying to wring the water out of his shirt.
Moody sat up trying to ignore the squelch. He looked to his left where a lake flowed innocently.
"Slight miscalculation?" he question irritably.
"Yeah," came the slow, cheery reply. Boewyn picked up a little box which went, 'fizzt'. "Was in a hurry so didn't give an exact place, just moved us a few kilometres away from the fight. Hopefully they think we went a long way and won't look around nearby." Boewyn shook the box, causing it to spark.
"Pity, its shot now." He regarded it sadly, "Still, at least we got some use out of it."
"What is it?" Moody inquired, Boewyn looked up,
"This? It's an automatic apparition device. Put in the coordinates and hit go. Useful when you can't dual apparate, can support three people." Boewyn admired it for a bit, "One of the best things Micah ever made this. Bloody genius he is." Boewyn put the box down next to the bag, everything that had been in it was sitting in the sun drying out. "Let's hope the rest of the things Micah gave us isn't ruined too." Boewyn pulled his shirt back on and picked up his gun, checking it to make sure it was still usable.
Moody rose to his feet and pulled off his cloak, trying to get as much water out of it as possible. When it was water free he lay it out in the sun then sat back down.
"Which direction did that thing send us?"
"Dunno" came the reply.
Moody blinked, "So unless we're willing to walk around in a big circle trying to find where we were attacked, were stuck again."
"Certainly seems that way, Al." Boewyn was as cheerful as ever.
"Well Done." Moody sighed
"I try my best."
"Very trying" Moody muttered, barely audible.
Moody struggled to come up with a plan to help them along. He was on the verge of coming up with something when he lost it again. Once more Boewyn took it upon himself to provide them with vocal entertainment.
"Jeremiah was a bullfrog, was a good friend of mine, I never understood a word he said, but I helped him a-drink his wine, and he always had some mighty fine wine! Joy..." he sang with feeling.
"SHUT UP!" Moody barked
"Didn't you mother ever teach you to be nice? I know my mother did."
"Just shut up alright"
"fine, fine, fine... grumpy" Boewyn muttered
"You are honestly less mature than a six year old."
Boewyn proved his maturity by ignoring Moody. This involved get up, turning around and sitting back down with his back to the Auror with a 'humfph'.
Moody stared at Boewyn, he felt stupider just thinking about him, letting alone spending time with him.
There was a long silence.
"Joy to the world, all the boys and girls, now, joy to the fishes in the deep blue sea, joy to you and me..." It was soft and barely heard. Moody considered drowning the poor man while he had an isolated body of water.
Boewyn rose to his feet and began to walk away, "I'll be back" he called over his shoulder.
"Take your time," Moody ordered, then lowered his voice to a whisper, "please God, take your time."
---
Now, Boewyn was not, for all he appeared to others, an idiot. In fact, he was, quite honestly, brilliant. When he had attended Hogwarts he had been one of the smartest students in his year. Except Boewyn was not one to do well under pressure. He had only just scraped a passing grade in all his OWLS and then his NEWTS well... they had been a disaster. The morning of the NEWTS Boewyn had walked in to his first exam perfectly calm, collected, and relaxed and sat at the desk, exam paper before him. He had been there for about five minutes before he had risen and just as calmly as he had entered, walked out of the great hall. He had made his way through the entrance hall and onto the grounds until he had reached the edge of the lake. There, he removed his robes and shoes, leaving himself in just his school uniform and dived in. It was shortly after that that Boewyn had taken to werewolf hunting, for reasons only he knew and some he didn't.
For years Boewyn had hunted werewolves mercilessly, killing them without thought of who they were when the moon was not full, when the curse was not in full control. Yes, there were some who did take advantage of the curse, to kill and main mercilessly. However Boewyn had never actually considered that some werewolves that had gotten loose had families; wives, husbands, children, brother, sisters, parents! And then of course he had tried to kill Micah's daughter, failed, thankfully. Then there was his last prey, the werewolf that had nearly cost him his life, the one that had given him a taste of his own mortality. He sighed, after that last fight he had destroyed all the silver weapons and werewolf tracking devices and moved to the underground, withdrawing himself from the normal human society. Like many of the things he did, it had just seemed... right.
He sighed and lay down under a tree.
And now I'm running around after a kid werewolf with, he wrinkled his nose, Mad-Eye Moody. My gods what has become of me? Still he had to admit, it was brilliant fun annoying the crap out of the Auror. Who could really do nothing about it, because, he needed him. Boewyn smirked at the sky.
Sucked in Moody!
He frowned at the sky, thinking about recent events. He really couldn't think with Moody around, the Auror was a distraction that was for sure. He was used to working alone, taking his time. Moody was determined to rush things worried about the lad. But he needn't worry. Whoever went through the trouble of kidnapping a young werewolf cub and then take him as far as he had, no doubt further, obviously needed him for something. He had a feeling it wasn't just to spite someone. No. That Lupin kid was wanted for something.
But what?
Whoever had taken the kid also went through the trouble of laying two ambushes. There was no way that those attacks had been sheer coincidence. Centaurs would attack a band of humans, no way. That was too risky, even centaurs knew that attacking humans could lead to much worse things. They were attacking for Boewyn and Moody, which meant they knew that Boewyn and Moody had been coming. Same with the hidden wizards who had ambushed them, they had to have been waiting for them. For someone to have both multiple wizards AND centaurs working for them, they had to be a pretty influential person. A wizard too, wizards wouldn't follow a magical creature, and as stubborn as centaurs were, if offered the right bribe they would follow a human.
But who? Who has those sort of influences? Who would want something with a werewolf cub? And who would go through so much trouble to get the werewolf AND to stop anybody from getting him back?
Boewyn struggled to think of any humans who might be fit that rather vague description, the only problem was that living in the underground so long without normal human contact made it so he had very little knowledge of recent happenings in the wizarding world.
He sighed again, looking at the sky once more, he frowned and then looked at the shadows on the ground.
"Ahah!" he knew which way they had been heading now.
Boy is this going to annoy him. I know where we are and a vague idea of what might be going on. Hmmmm... let's see how he takes it.
Boewyn rose to his feet and left the clearing, seeing Moody still sitting by the lake. As he got closer he opened his mouth once more and resumed singing.
"I'm a high night flier and rainbow rider, and a straight-shootin son of a gun. I said a straight-shootinson of a gun!"
Even with the distance between them he still saw Moody cringe.
I'm such a bastard...
And I love it.
He grinned manically.
"JOY TO THE WORLD!"
Authors Note: This song is 'Joy to the World' by Three Dog Night. My wireless internet was SCREWING ME AROUND all freekin' day. I swear I nearly killed something. But finally... It works again!
dance
Not quite sure if I like all this chapter. The part told about Boewyn... Myeh... Wrote and deleted a lot of stuff because I didn't like it. This is what I wrote which I didn't end up deleting, not sure if I like it though.
Hmm... Boewyn's mystery 'last case' perhaps I shall tell you more about it... but then again, perhaps not.
And finally, let's see how many folk get this. Boewyn has; "A little box which goes fizzt!" Anybody know where the inspiration for that line came from?
Cough Smeg! Cough
