The Order of Draconis
The two men stared, unblinkingly, into each other's eyes for
a heartbeat. Nothing was said, and they
both remained as still as statues, one holding the other trapped underneath in
a tight hold. Snape could feel his
weight pinning him to the cold floor, still rendering him motionless as if in
case he should strike out again. His
vivid, green eyes were wide and alert, and from what he could see, he was
breathing rather heavily. Severus was
also aware that his body was still under the affects of the adrenaline surge he
had felt only moments ago, and that he, too was still staring into Yoshimitsu's
eyes from the floor where he had fallen, not wanting to move.
Yoshi stirred slightly, as if trying to gather the courage
to speak to him and shifted under his unrelenting gaze. He spoke, but it was nothing short of a
whisper. Mild and soft, but always
heard and taken heed of.
"Rather like mine, I suppose," he thought to himself.
"Sev?" Yoshi whispered hoarsely, releasing a little of
pressure from the grip around his shoulders.
"…heh heh heh".
He heard some sniggering and muffled snorting - possibly
originating a few paces away from where they had fought blindly with one
another in the dark – and could possibly originate from…
"Oh Sevvie, my darling!
I've missed you for so long…" a low voice rumbled in the darkness.
"Oh yes! Sevvie,
will you marry me?" another smooth voice smirked from the shadows.
"OH YES, YES! KISS
ME YOSHI!" the first voice cried with laughter.
"Those bastards," he mouthed, as he realised who the
disembodied voices belonged to.
He knew those stupid, snorting, sniggering idiots
anywhere. It was John and Will. But, if they were here with him, then the
rest of the team must be here too…
"He's brought the team along with him? He must've known that Voldemort would turn
up here. He must know of Voldemort's takeover,
or how else would they all be here?" he wondered.
Out of the corner of his eyes he spotted Minerva and
Remus. They were frozen to the spot a
couple of yards away, standing stock-still and speechless, Remus still holding
his wand in the combative position, and he didn't seem ready to fight anyone.
But the realisation came crashing down on him, hard and he
had suddenly become all too aware of the rather…suggestive…position that they had
been lying in for the past minute and he quickly pulled his legs out from
underneath, scrabbled backwards - slipping slightly on the floor - and pushed
himself up. Yoshi too had become aware
and had jumped back from him as if had suddenly become red-hot, and had
stumbled to his feet.
When he was on his feet, Snape gazed at his
surroundings. He could see in the white
marble floor, masked with the shadows that the misty blackness outside had
brought, was a hidden trapdoor, concealed by a beautiful, icy-white ornamental
rug, presumably where…Yoshi and the others had come up into the building. He felt himself smile suddenly, evilly,
grinning widely as he realised.
"Nice plan, Yoshi," he said to the wall, "Do it the Muggle
way. Come up from underground. The roof, the windows; just don't use any
spells or incantations. They'd never be
able to track you down," he paused, "Voldemort – or the Ministry".
He looked at Yoshi, still grinning. His footsteps echoed down the vast, lofty
corridor as he walked towards Yoshi.
Yoshi ran a hand through his long, black hair, shook his head and looked
exasperatedly at him.
"You've hit the metaphorical nail on the head, Sev, as
always," he sighed. "Leave it to you to
figure out ALL of my plans before we even have the chance to carry them out".
Yoshi padded towards him, smiling, his trained feet gliding
silently over the floor. He stopped
short in front of him and rested a gloved hand on his shoulders. Although this time, it was his turn to grin
evilly.
"But you've missed one little detail though, Sev," he
explained enigmatically. "What do you
think is missing?"
Yoshi suddenly sat down on an oak chair - which probably
constructed part of a crude waiting room for a lesser Ministry official - and
leaned his head against his hand, smiling up expectedly at him.
He could feel his eyes narrowing as Yoshi spoke to him and
the more he felt his eyes narrowing, the more Yoshi grinned. He looked round at Will and John for some
sort of help, but Will just blinked slowly and smiled, leaned back against the
wall and folded his arms. John grinned
and shrugged his massive shoulders and shook his head.
"My lips are sealed, Sev," John rumbled with as much mystery
as he could muster.
He spun back round to face Yoshi – still in the mocking:
"I-know-something-you-don't-know" position he had left him in. He smiled back at Yoshi. He knew that he was in his element here, and
that he had a chance. He always won at
guessing games.
"Fine. You want to
play guessing games, Yoshi. You know I
ALWAYS win at guessing games," he smirked.
Yoshi blinked passively.
"We'll see, Sevvie.
We'll see."
Severus glared at Yoshi.
It was not really appropriate to do this at the moment, and he knew that
Yoshi knew that Voldemort was in the building with goodness knows how many
other Death Eaters. Why on Earth was he
doing this? He didn't know why he rose
to Yoshi's bait. He didn't know what
compelled him to do it. There was
something about Yoshi's smug look that maddened him to the core. So he sat down in the chair next to Yoshi
and tried to cast his mind back. Back
to when they had met in the Forbidden Forest all those years ago.
***********************************************************************************************
He realised that he was glaring at them.
The cold, biting, winter wind knifed into him. It even whipped up his thick, black; winter
robes - occasionally, exposing him to an unwelcome icy gust. His long, thin fingers were becoming blue
with the cold, yet he continued to pull mechanically at the roots of the
plants, his fingers scraping through the frost-hardened dirt. He was long past caring. All he wanted to do, was to end the short,
yet happy lives of these little plants.
"They just…grow," he thought bitterly, "they don't
experience true pain. They take their
nourishment from the Earth and it's products, they grow, they reproduce, they
die". He smiled suddenly, a smile
totally without humour that did not reach his cold, dark eyes, "The only pain
is at the end…"
He tugged sharply at another root, slicing his finger. He watched in a rather detached sort of way
as the blood ran smooth, dark and rich – dribbling onto the ground, spattering
softly on the dirt. It was quite a deep
cut. Surprising, in a way. The little plant had managed to return the
favour – well at least some of the pain.
But it was in vain.
"It was a brave effort, little plant," he sneered. "But I'm afraid that I'm quite used to
pain." He sighed deeply. "You could almost say that over the long
years, I have built up an immunity to it".
He threw the carcass of the aconite plant into his basket,
along with all of the others he had uprooted earlier, and performed a rather
elementary healing charm. He watched as
the wound slowly closed up, the white lips of skin at the edge of the wound
closing, merging together as one.
After a while, he carried on rooting. He had run out of the plant in his storage,
and was lucky enough to have a sufficient, natural supply in the Forbidden
Forest itself. Earlier in the day, he
had gained permission from Dumbledore to go out into the forest and Dumbledore
had asked politely if he wished Hagrid and Fang to accompany him. He had declined. He didn't wish that great oaf Hagrid and that huge, hairy,
slobbering, mongrel anywhere near him - especially when he was going to do such
a careful job as uprooting aconite. He
could just imagine Hagrid accidentally trampling on them, or Fang digging them
all up, ripping them to shreds and rendering them useless. So he came out alone, as he always did.
The forest was always beautiful in winter – cold and
unmerciful – but beautiful nonetheless.
The snow clinging delicately to the branches of the trees, the frost
making pretty little patterns on the ground and the sky a clear bright blue,
with no clouds in sight. But the forest
would bloom again. That was
certain. Underneath the frosty layers
above, there, lying deep beneath the surface, the beauty was waiting to burst
forth once more - and in time, would do so.
The beauty of nature was something that had always astounded
him.
Back as early as he
could remember, he was outside studying plants and animals, taking in their
habits and contours and watching them with intense interest, noting their
little ways, watched them foraging for food.
When he was a
little older and able to read, his mother had gradually introduced him to books
on the dark arts and potion making. He
had taken to them like a fish to water, reading and studying, taking in
knowledge. Suddenly, he started to
enjoy this new-found property of nature and was soon brewing potions that were
extremely advanced for his age group. As
he later found out when he went to Hogwarts, most of the other children didn't
even know how to brew a simple memory-loss potion, never mind some of the more
complicated potions he had been brewing at home. He also – thanks to his mother - arrived at Hogwarts knowing more
curses and hexes than half of the third years, and could certainly hold his own
in a duel - thanks to the abusive training his father had subjected him to at
home.
He had suffered and suffered at home with his family, beaten
and abused by his Death Eater father, screamed at, then ignored by his Death Eater
mother, staying silent all the while, bottling up the pain and agony like he
bottled up all his wonderful potions.
He had suffered more still in all his years at Hogwarts,
starting his gradual descending the slippery slopes to damnation; taunted by
James Potter and his sidekicks, losing the only friend he truly loved to hold
dear, Lilly, and his Slytherin gang - overcome with hatred and ambition - were
no shoulder to cry on. He had hexed,
brewed and studied his way through Hogwarts, gained twelve OWL's, was the
representative of Slytherin house…
"..and all for what," he sneered, unconsciously tearing
apart the little aconite growth he had just so fastidiously uprooted, the
liquid bleeding from the now torn and bruised leaves, running, squeezing through
the gaps in his tightly clenched fists – all the energy and life extracted –
and it would never be able to bloom again.
His body was shaking, shaking with the force of the silent,
tearless sobbing – his mind filled with a hatred, the slow burning hatred that
had been festering inside since he could remember, a hatred for his whole,
ruined life and everything that he had ever stood for – everything he had ever
believed in. His fists clenched tighter
still, his nails ripping into the tender flesh of the palms of his hands,
drawing yet more blood – the plant now limp in his unrelenting grip.
His body was now shaking violently, his robes sodden and
bedraggled, on his knees in the snow.
He was breathing heavily, the coldness of the air turning his breath
into a visible, misty vapour. The hate
rose in a surging wave, coming up rapidly - and all alone in the forest, he was
powerless to stop it. He raised his
head and screamed to the sky, a lament wracked with raw emotion, the cry filled
with agony echoing through the trees -
but lost.
"All for what !?! To
waste my whole fucking life for a lost cause!?!" he screamed.
He turned his face to the sky and could feel the tears
welling up behind his dark eyes – the tears he had held in for god only knew
how long. Slowly, silently - they began
to trickle down his frostbitten cheeks in a slow smooth stream, tears as futile
as his miserable existence. The anger
slowly burned itself out again, his senses returning gradually – but his
dignity shattered once again.
"Forgive me…"
For a long time – he didn't know how long – he stayed
slumped on the frosty earth, his previous task all but forgotten, feeling his
silent tears freezing on his cheeks in the icy winter wind, the snow
penetrating his robes, soaking him to the skin – the cold making him shake
uncontrollably…
Crack.
His head snapped up suddenly, roughly near the origin of the
noise. He stayed still, frozen to the
spot, his heart thumping loudly in his chest, not daring to move or breathe in
case he alerted the intruder to his position.
"Can't be a Centaur," he reasoned, "can't climb trees…"
He looked a little
closer and saw that the branches of a large pine tree about a foot away from
him were swaying… a little more than the slight breeze would've caused them to…
Crack.
Breathing deeply, his chest rising and falling quickly, he
reached carefully for his wand inside his robes. He grasped it with his numb fingers and started to sidle towards
the pine tree with all the stealth he could muster - all the while keeping his
eyes on the branches of the tree, checking for any further signs of movement.
Crack.
Just before he reached the trunk of the frost covered pine,
he stopped and crouched down onto the ground, tilting his head sideways in case
he could get a glance of the intruder…
Crack. Crack, crack…
His heart leapt into his mouth as he realised that the
intruder was descending the branches of the tree. Extremely quickly.
"OH FUUUUUUUUUCK!!!"
He tried to raise his wand, but there was a swiftly growing
shadow bearing down on him at a great speed, and there would only be half a
second before it…
***********************************************************************************************
He woke up a few minutes later - feeling nauseous, his eyes
bleary and his limbs numb with cold.
These weren't new, he decided.
But the thumping, splitting headache was novel. He made a valiant attempt to move his
legs…but they didn't seem to be co-operating at the moment. His arms were aching, his head was spinning,
he was on the verge of throwing up and…something, or someone had fallen on top
of him from the branches of that tree…
With that unsettling thought in mind, he made another
attempt to push himself up, when suddenly, a face leered down at him, fiery,
glowing red eyes burning in the porcelain-white face, large fangs protruding
from its upper lip. He could feel it's
hot breath from close range against his frozen skin and its hands outstretched
- waiting to finish him off…
His body received a new surge of energy, his numb limbs
making a last ditch effort to carry him away from the demonic apparition
"Argh !!! Get away
from me !!!" he screamed hoarsely.
The demon made no visible attempt to move, or to finish him
off. Instead it took a step back,
startled.
"Oh! God, I'm sorry.
I didn't mean to alarm you," the ember-eyed demon said softly. "Here…"
The apparition raised his hands to his face,
removing…removing its mask with a slight sucking noise as it came free from its
face. He suddenly realised (with waves
of embarrassment accompanying it,) what he had been trying to run from. Before him stood not the fiery-eyed demon –
but a handsome young man, much the same age as himself. He was dressed in a heavy cloak and strange
clothes not native of the country, but rather Eastern…Oriental, even. His long, raven black hair fluttered in the
bitter breeze, his eyes a sharp, vivid green and flecked with brown were filled
with quiet concern. A sheepish smile settled
on his pale visage – almost as white, he noted – as his porcelain mask…
"I'm terribly sorry.
I'm afraid I fell on your head…" he pointed over to the pine tree, where
there were considerably fewer branches and the snow had now been shaken
off. The stranger spoke with a slight
accent, sometimes muddling his syllables slightly. He was now convinced that the stranger was foreign.
"…but I dressed your wounds for you. Your hands were ripped to shreds".
Severus, again aware that he had a pair of hands, brought
them up swiftly to his face, staring at them.
The stranger had, indeed, dressed his wounds. And quite well too. There
were neatly wrapped, white linen, bandages covering the lacerations on the
palms of his hands. He turned his gaze
back to the stranger, dumbfounded.
"It's okay, you just sit there and rest. I'll take you back to the den and then I can
fix you up properly," the stranger insisted.
Snape forced himself to speak, the words coming from his
mouth in a croaking whisper.
"W-who are you?"
The stranger smiled warmly and knelt down in the snow next
to him, removing the cloak from his shoulders and wrapping it tightly around
his frozen body. He hadn't realised how
cold he was until he felt the soothing warmth of the cloak shielding him from
the icy breath of the wind. He felt the
stranger's arms scoop him up out of the snow, lifting him as if he weighed no
more than a feather and he stood up upright on the ground. He rose shakily to his feet, steadily
regaining his balance, the stranger supporting him with his arm wrapped around
his shoulders.
"Are you okay? Can
you walk?"
Severus mumbled in acknowledgement. The stranger stretched out his hand and
smiled.
"I'm Yoshimitsu - but please spare the formalities, and just
call me Yoshi".
He shook the stranger's hand numbly.
"'m Snape. Severus Snape".
The stranger smiled more broadly still and they started on
their way to… "the den".
"Pleased to meet you Severus. Now you just concentrate on keeping walking, and we'll be there
in no time," the stranger soothed.
"'s," was his feeble reply.
They carried on the rest of the journey in silence, Yoshimitsu's
nimble feet crunching lightly over the snow - and his own, more sluggish
footsteps trudging irregularly beside him.
The journey was a blur. His
surroundings slipped slowly past his eyes as he concentrated on keeping
upright. He felt rather inclined to
throw up, but done his best to relieve Yoshi of the obligation. After a while, Yoshi slowed his walk down to
a stop in front of a severe looking rock face, and turned round to face him,
beaming.
"Well, here we are.
Just hang on one more minute, okay".
He didn't think that he could take much more of this. A den…hideout… in the middle of the
Forbidden Forest !?! Why hadn't Hagrid
spotted it and alerted Dumbledore !?!
He realised a moment later, that Hagrid certainly wouldn't have spotted
it, and probably couldn't find it even if knew it existed.
Yoshimitsu wedged him between a boulder and the frozen rock
face, and drew – seemingly from nowhere -
a long, beautiful and not to mention sharp looking sword. The blade itself was incredibly unusual. It was as clear as day, reflecting the
forest behind, but was a stunningly beautiful navy blue-black. It looked to him as though it was made from
black coloured glass. He gaped at the
sword, his jaw hung open. Yoshi had
possibly seen him leering at his sword, for he flashed him a wolfish smile and
ran his finger down the blade, causing little blue sparks to crackle down the
length.
"Do you like it?" Yoshi asked. "My father left it to me when he died". He swung the sword in a diagonal arc from right to left, making
the blade spark and sing through the air.
"Is it a magical sword," Snape asked stupidly.
Yoshi looked at him as though he had gone mad.
"The cold must've fucked with your brain," he laughed, "of
course it's a magical sword! Ever seen
a normal sword do this?"
Severus watched expectantly as Yoshimitsu raised the blade
above his head. For a heartbeat,
nothing stirred. The silence was a
vacuum, seeming to suck into it everything near. Then, slowly, the air around the blade began to blur and
distort. He felt the wind gather
strength and speed. He saw the air
matter re-arrange into small white-blue particles of elemental energy, speeding
round the blade, which was now glowing white hot in Yoshimitsu's hands. But he didn't show any signs of feeling it –
he seemed to be in a trance, the particles gathering more speed still, whipping
up his hair and clothes, carrying him upwards – levitating - encased in a blue
burning orb, emitting raw waves of pure elemental energy…and he opened his
eyes.
His eyes, once the colour of deep, creamy jade; were now
burning white. Pure, blinding white
light. Severus watched in horrified
fascination as Yoshimitsu swung the blade downward in a deadly arc, dispelling
all of the energy gathered en masse, and saw it head towards the rock face,
tearing away from the burning blade in a flash of white. He watched, his heart pounding as the light
hit the rock, expecting it to explode in a thousand fragments of molten
shrapnel, killing them both - Yoshi and himself instantly…
…Instead, the rock disappeared, revealing a small hole -
just big enough for one to crawl through…
He heard Yoshi drop to the earth behind him, dusting himself
off as if he had only just taken out the rubbish. Yoshi skipped over to him - grinning again the wolfish grin, his
green eyes flashing with delight – and laid a hand on his shoulder.
He turned to face Yoshi.
He stared. He gaped. He had just witnessed him banish a huge,
great, hulking piece of rock in front of his very eyes, which would've probably
taken the best part of a month to do with a team of fully trained wizards
working on it.
"Y-you banished the…"
Yoshi nodded, trying to suppress a smirk, and led him
towards the hole.
"You first, Severus," he said graciously.
***********************************************************************************************
He sat bolt upright in the chair. The realisation had dawned on him as soon as he started to
recollect the experience, the aconite, the mysterious rustling in the pine
tree, being knocked unconscious by a total stranger hurtling from said pine
tree and landing on his head and…the katana.
The team had long since moved from the den in the Forbidden
Forest, and were now living in Mastrick, Aberdeen in a little house in a
densely Muggle-populated area. About
two years before the fall of the Dark Lord, the Ministry came to the Forbidden
Forest to arrest the members of the Order of Draconis. Bartemius Crouch himself had stormed into
Hogwarts, accusing Dumbledore of hiding the Order from the Ministry.
Dumbledore had had no idea that they were even anywhere near
Hogwarts, let alone in the same country, and calmly told Crouch so. In truth, Dumbledore had known that there were
other organisations fighting for the downfall of Voldemort, but he had never
met up with any – on missions or otherwise.
Crouch curtly explained to Dumbledore that they had found
their "base of operations" and intended to cut them short immediately because
they had: "interfered with Ministry business".
A moment later, a young ministry worker knocked on the door of
Dumbledore's study and had entered carrying Yoshimitsu's katana wrapped in
spell-proof material.
Severus had watched in horrified silence as Crouch had told
Dumbledore of what was to be the fate of his friends, but when the young
Ministry agent strode in with Yoshi's sword, he fought back an uncontrollable
urge to beat the living shit out of both Crouch and the Gopher. The Gopher had informed Crouch that the
Order had escaped. In his words:
"…vanished sir…just vanished. Without a trace…"
After the "bad news", Crouch had stormed out in an utterly
foul mood, his neatly combed moustache bristling as he muttered some dark
threats towards Dumbledore. Dumbledore
had merely smiled and showed him graciously out of his office, the Gopher
trailing at Crouch's heels, still holding Yoshi's beloved sword tightly in his
arms.
After the rather dramatic episode involving Crouch and the
Ministry law enforcement blew over, Severus led Dumbledore and Minerva
McGonagall towards their hideout. The
place had been totally ransacked.
Possessions strewn over the ground, spell books, potions ingredients
(some of which he had picked for them himself) amongst other things.
Dumbledore had taken him aside and asked him if he knew
anything of the Order of Draconis. At
first he had shook his head, not wanting to divulge the information he had kept
for Yoshi and the others for so long, but after a while, he broke down and told
them everything. How they had met up,
who they all were, about their pasts, missions accomplished, missions failed,
about how he also sometimes shared with them, the inside information he gained
from Voldemort. Dumbledore had listened
calmly to him, his eyes glittering strangely, smiling as he had told him every
detail. Minerva had sat on a log across
from them, dumbstruck, wondering all the time how she could've missed them. He could tell that Dumbledore was thinking
along the same lines - but he was also
fascinated. He had asked him question
after question about the team and he had found out that some of them had even
attended Hogwarts and that Will had actually been in Slytherin house. Dumbledore had told him not to worry, and
that he would work together with Minerva to help track them down.
For a few months there had been nothing. No traces or signs that they had ever
existed, except for the few saved possessions gathered from the forest - hidden
safely away from the eyes of outsiders in Dumbledore's study. They were all becoming anxious, and Crouch
was still pestering them about the Order and his Gopher – to his ultimate
disgust – had been promoted to the rank of Auror for the theft of his friend's
beloved katana.
He had waited, and prayed for their safe return, or at least
any news at to their whereabouts.
The letter that he had so anxiously waited for - had came
about four months after their escape from the Forbidden Forest. One day, the owl had arrived at the staff
table in the great hall, fluttering down, bearing a wet, bedraggled looking
letter tied untidily around it's leg, bearing the news he had been waiting for,
for so long.
It had said:
Hello
Sarky.
How's
life been keeping you? Good, I
trust? Still keeping the brats out of
trouble?
Good,
good. We got your letter. I'm sorry about the hasty retreat, as we
didn't want to outstay
our welcome,
but no matter. You've told the high
heid yin' (Glaswegian slang, eh ? I love it) about us then. Don't worry, as
it's about time anyway and we're rather glad you did. It just means that there are more of us, working together for a
just cause, no?
Migraine, Carrot, Whiner, Methane and
Bitch-face send their regards.
Love,
the Tin Man.
P.S: You don't have any information on
regards to my little piece of stolen property, do you ?
He had written back at once, informing
Yoshi (aka the Tin Man) about how Crouch had taken his katana back to the
Ministry with him and how he had probably locked it up, locked it up again, put
it in a room filled to the brim with alarm charms, traps and rabid dogs, locked
it up again just for good measure and had assigned fifty large, surly looking,
wand-happy guards to watch over it.
Yoshi had wrote back later saying that
he would do whatever it took to get back his beloved katana and to have it
where it rightfully belonged.
And he was coming tonight to collect
it…
***********************************************************************************************
He smiled in spite of himself, feeling
strangely proud for working out Yoshi's ruse.
He turned to face Yoshi, who was still sitting with his head propped up
with his hand, staring expectantly at him.
He could feel the grin crossing his face once again, but managed to
suppress it, slipping on his trademark smirk instead.
"You're coming to collect it ? Aren't
you ?"
Yoshi, smile still in place nodded.
"I think that this is that "right
time" you were speaking of Sev," he whispered softly.
"So," he sneered inwardly, "they're
not here to help after all. Only to
collect Yoshi's precious sword…"
He felt the all too common sense of
disappointment penetrate to the core. He
gazed coldly at Yoshi, the disappointment shifting, slowly, gradually changing
to a state of fury and indignation. It
wasn't possible…
"Is this all you're here for !?!" he
asked in disbelief. "Do you know that
Voldemort is in the building AT THIS VERY MOMENT !!!"
Yoshi's eyes flashed for a moment, and
he glared stonily back at Severus, who matched his glare for glare.
"Yes.
Of course I know that Voldemort is here," he snapped. "Why else would I need my katana, Severus?"
The realisation hit him once again.
Only now, could he see the full picture.
Yoshi could pull off two birds with one stone with this one. He had the perfect chance to get back his
katana AND to win this battle against Voldemort and weaken him
considerably. "
"Although it's going to take a lot of
effort and cunning to accomplish it…"
He stared, amazedly at Yoshi. Yoshi's cold glare was replaced by the
wolfish smile.
"Two birds with one stone, Yoshi ?" he
said exasperatedly
"Yes, Sev. Two birds," he grinned.
Will and John both beamed at him almost
simultaneously and John ran towards him, locking him in a tight bear hug, his
long dreadlocks becoming entangled with his face, making him gasp and splutter.
"MAN, I MISSED YOU, SARKY !!!" John
howled
"I-I missed you too, Methane," he
managed to mumble into John's shoulder-blade, "but put me down !!!"
He felt relieved when John deposited
him back on the floor, still mumbling about how much he had missed him when he
was gone and how there was no one who could ever be as sarky as the sarky git
himself.
Will merely smiled and hugged him,
saying that John was just being overemotional as always, which inevitably ended
in John slapping William across the head and Will retaliating by pulling at
John's goatee. John howled and jumped
on William and proceeded to trap him in a painful looking headlock.
He smirked at Will and John's antics;
seeing Will choking, spluttering and stumbling across the floor - his perfectly
groomed black hair becoming tangled and untidy in the headlock. John, on the
other hand, seemed to revel seeing Will in pain.
"Who's yo daddy, Migrane ??? WHO'S YO
DADDY !?!" John roared, chuckling as he threw Will halfway across the corridor,
ramming into chairs and generally causing havoc.
Yoshi rose from the chair, laughing,
dusting off his trousers and readjusting his belt. He spied Minerva and Remus still standing a few paces away,
bewildered and amazed by the sudden and unlikely even they had just
witnessed. He stalked over to them and
extended his hand to both of them.
"Yoshimitsu Manji," he intoned
cheerfully, his painstakingly acquired English accent slipping as he introduced
himself, "you must be Minerva
McGonagall…"
Minerva took his hand and her face
instantly broke into a huge smile as she eventually realised who he was. After a few quick words with Minerva, Yoshi
turned to Remus (who had just been greeted politely by Will – and slapped
heartily on the back by John,) and shook his hand.
"Remus Lupin, I presume,"
"Yoshimitsu Manji, I presume," Lupin
retorted.
He could see that the Werewolf was
gradually warming to Yoshi. Not that he
really cared, as they would need all the help they could get if they wanted to
be in with a chance of coming out of this alive.
Yoshi beamed at Lupin's retort and
turned back to Severus. He leaned a
little closer and whispered to him.
"The Misuse of Muggle Artefacts
containment storage rooms are the next floor up," he explained, "are you guys
coming with us ? Because you don't
stand a chance out here – not with all these Death Eaters kicking about".
He looked over his shoulder to find
the others whispering quietly and looking expectantly back at them.
"All right. But you'd better be the one to ask them, remember I'm still the
"Death Eater".
"Sure," Yoshi sighed exasperatedly,
and cuffed him playfully on the shoulder "I'll ask them".
He watched, rubbing his aching
shoulder where the bastard had punched him, as Yoshi approached Minerva and
Remus, whispering and gesticulating in the all-consuming darkness of the
corridor. After a while, he saw Minerva
nod her head.
"That's a good sign," he thought
nervously.
Then, a moment later, Lupin nodded
solemnly and started to walk towards Will and John, who were already working on
some unknown task involving a rather large wooden door.
Yoshi spun on his heel and skipped
back towards him, his hair flying out behind and his eyes twinkling. He yelled as Yoshi grabbed him by the
shoulders and swung him round violently, the force of the swing making him
stumble on the marble floor.
"They said yes. Now let's get going," he laughed.
***********************************************************************************************
Disclaimer: I don't
own any of the characters blah, blah, bloody blah. I own the plot tho', so y'all'd better watch your asses if any
foo' tries to pilfer my plot, y'hear ?
Thank you to everyone who has reviewed my fic so far. I have worked very hard on it, and have
tried to improve and better the previous at every turn.
Thanks goes to:
Edgar da Cockroach
Afshan Mirza (It's funny?
Thanks. I never really thought that, but I do try to put in a little
humour here and there – John being the plucky comic relief.)
Chopsy Cow (heh…)
Vikki_bubble (Thank you for your wonderful comment, but I'm
really not that good. Go to my profile and read the stories of my favourite
authors, then you'll see who is good.)
PINN
Morrighan (thank you for your helpful creative
criticism. I have taken your advice in
mind and tried to put in some more background and description. You will notice that this chapter is a bit
longer than the others. (But no flies
on you, Jeez. Your suspicions about
Yoshi are confirmed.)
Selene: Thank you
for the kind review. Yes, I agree. All the "Harry is a hero" stories are
getting on my thruppney bits. Just kidding…*ducks
flaming bricks*. In answer to your
question, alright, I'll tell you:
Yoshimitsu was taken from (the utterly brilliant) Tekken, Coin was
borrowed from Terry Pratchett's wonderful, and funny Sourcery and William, Ada,
Leon, Claire and John were characters taken from various Resident Evil
shit. *Damn !!! I've just blown my secret…*
Thank you all once again for showing your appreciation of my
hard work and effort. I write now for you all. : )
Ada Kensington
