Dark Angel
Chapter Two: Burned Bridges
From the temple of the OrangeGoddess
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Disclaimer: I do not own the Animorphs or Harry Potter characters. They belong solely to Scholastic and were written by K.A. Applegate and J. K. Rowling, respectively. To my knowledge, these events in the following work of fanfiction have not been previously used by any of writer. And no, I am not ripping of the TV show Dark Angel, nothing at all in common between the two. I'm sure the phrase existed beforehand, and so I'm using it now. So there! Ha! =)
Thank you to everyone who reviewed the first two parts of my story! *hugs* Thanks for all comments peoples!
I'm new to this whole writing fanfiction thing, so I appreciate and help you can throw my way. If anyone is interested in editing these chapters before I post them, please drop me a line at
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The wind howled like a lost soul around the ancient grey stone of the age-old fortress. The rain-infested tempest of early evening had died down to become a steady light drizzle accented with a light mist. A half moon shone occasionally through the thin robes of grey clouds low over head causing odd shadows to scamper across the wet grass.
Two sets of footsteps padded through the relative quiet of the deserted castle grounds. One set was light, quick, and reminiscent of a cat's prowl. The other was heavier, more burdened, and sullen. The mist swirled apart to the sides as curtains open before actors on a stage, and the makers of the footsteps drew into view. Both travelers' faces were heavily shadowed from view by the heavy, hooded cloaks but an occasional facial feature came into to view. The expressive eyes of the woman, the set way of the man's chin, and the strange inner light of past and purpose that glowed from within them both.
As they neared the stone steps that led to the front door of the castle, Rachel faulted slightly in her stride and half-turned back toward her companion. No spoken words passed between the pair and the air crackled with an unspoken, age-old understanding. The mahogany pools of the David's eyes deepened as he acceptably pulled even with his raven-haired companion. The couple's hands didn't touch as neither wanted physical companionship from the other, but mentally they clasped hands as they waited.
Rachel studied the castle in front of her with intense concentration, her pale brow furrowing with the weight and worry of the future. She had accepted her future carrier path in this new war as soon as she had been "reborn". She was Xena warrior princess wasn't she? Why wouldn't she be looking forward to rushing forward and spilling more enemy blood? Her cheeks flushed in mirror of her inner anger. How dare they all assume that killing was all she knew… was all she wanted. This Dark Lord guy, Voldamore, he was just another one of those killing bullies she had encountered in the last war. He was a bastard who frightened people into submission, nothing stronger. Rachel hadn't even met him yet, but she would bet anything that he had a lot in common with the former Visser One.
After a few minutes of undisturbed silence a light came on inside the castle and traveled on the interior until it reached the area unseen behind the colossal front doors. There was a pause and then the wooden doors swung open silently on the oiled hinges.
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Severus Snape had kept vigil at the front windows of the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry from the position of a hard leather armchair for several hours before the strange visitors had appeared from the shroud of fog as suddenly and silently as phantoms.
Even from this distance he could feel the familiar cold radiation coming off of these two. The aura one carries after being touched by evil stays with you forever, no matter how much you change afterwards. You can never quiet redeem your soul after such an encounter, no matter how much you strive to do so. Snape understood this permanent veil of darkness well, having carried it for so long himself. He too had slipped down the path to inner blackness, and he too knew that the return path to the safe and well-lighted ground of the good was much steeper and treacherous to climb.
The potion master brushed his flat, oily, soot colored hair out of his face with a jerk of impatience before retrieving his wand from the desk nearest the chair he had been occupying. He lit the tip of his wand with a simple spell, held the glowing scepter before himself like a candle, and moved unhurriedly through the shadow infested rooms to the entrance hall.
With his bony poised just the doorknob, Snape paused and stood contemplating what he was about to do. By letting these other marred souls into his only home, he would be holding a mirror up to himself that would show him a part of his past he was not in a hurry to see. These shadowed warrior children were the same age that he had been when he had finally had enough strength to push away from the dark lord who ruled all of his moments, waking and sleeping.
If he let them in, Snape would be forced to see again the person he had been… the person he secretly still felt he was.
Someone coughed quietly behind him, and Snape turned to find the white beard and wise knowing eyes of Albus Dumbledore watching him struggle with his emotions. Snape forced his trademark sneer onto his face before spinning around and yanking the doors open.
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In a dingy deserted alley deep in the labyrinth of Hogsmeade a rat ran like a shadow from heap to heap of useless discarded junk looking for edible scrapes. The large rodent paused and stared at a section of alley farther down with dirty whiskers twitching. The hairs on the back of its' furry neck rose in distrust as the air shimmered and two ragged men appeared out of thin air. With a startled squeak the rat turned and dove out of sight with a parting wave of its' naked tail.
The taller of the two men, darker in color and complexion, place his wand in a pocket on the inside of his robe before wordlessly shifting form into that of a large black dog. His shorter, lighter companion waited for his old friend to the identity concealing transformation before strolling down the alley to the adjoining street.
As the two companions strolled down the cobbled street, shop lights temporarily highlighted the streaks of grey in Remus Lupin's shaggy light brown hair. The gaze in the eyes was sharp, intelligent and the brown robes were clean but clearly old and well patched.
Laughter spilled out of the nearby door of the local pub and the pair of man and beast silently drifted across the street.
After several minutes of walking the street wandered away from the sleepy town and climbed a gentle hill to a deserted wreak of a house. The sooty canine ran ahead and slipped in through a crack near the front door. By the time Lupin reached the front stoop, a now human Sirius Black already had the squeaky door open for him.
Re-locking the weather worn door behind him, Lupin followed Black through a series of dusty, deserted rooms. In each room Lupin ran his delicate fingers lightly over teeth and claw made scars in the battered furniture, a reminder of his other life.
Black waited at the entrance to a low tunnel for a respectable pause where, after a nod from Lupin, he turned and sped through the dirt passage, speedily followed by his life long friend.
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Ok, how was it? Came off a little rough to me, but after being out of town for two weeks I needed to get something up. Please review in the spiffy little box below this! Thanks!