Shadows in Moonlight

By Angela Merryweather (illegal_angela@yahoo.com)

Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters, settings, and situations belong to the wonderful JK Rowling. Everything else is a product of my extremely warped imagination and thus belongs to me, and may not be used without my permission. No money is being made, therefore no infringement is intended.

AN: This is my first fanfic starring an original character, Selene Delacour (pronounced se-leen). Yes, she's mine, and I love her dearly. For those who are curious, Selene comes from the Greek word selena, meaning "the moon."

Feedback, positive or negative, is always welcome. Even prayed for.

Enjoy... ΓΌ

Chapter One

"Wake up!" Selene Delacour heard a voice urgently whisper as someone shook her awake.

The French teenager batted away the offending hands and sat up, slowly blinking her still dream-dark silver blue eyes. In the glow of candlelight she saw a lovely face very much similar to her own. "Fleur!" she cried in delighted surprise. "What are you doing here? Maman did not tell me you were coming to visit"

"Be quiet!" said her cousin sharply. "I'm not here on a social call, little fool--- far from it. You must get dressed." Even as she spoke, she was piling clothes into a trunk.

"I do not understand," Selene faltered. "What is happening?"

Fleur shoved a bright green cloak into the trunk, then closed it. "I shall explain on the way."

"The way to where? Fleur, it is---" Selene stopped and checked the wall clock, squinting at the digits that were hard to read with only the aid of the golden candlelight and the silver rays of the moon streaming in from the windows--- "almost midnight and you are in my room, packing my things, telling me to get dressed. I love you dearly, but unless you give me an explanation, I shall be inclined to think that you have gone nuts."

"Yes, it is almost midnight," said Fleur, tossing a black robe over her cousin's head. "That is why we must hurry. They will be coming for you soon. Now, do not ask anymore questions--- just put that over your nightgown, and we shall be on our way."

Merde, I am afraid I don't understand any of this, Selene thought, standing up and donning the robe. "Will Papa and Maman be going with us?"

Fleur laughed cynically. "No, of course not. They don't even know I'm here, or that we are leaving."

Now Selene was even more confused than ever. "But they will be worried!" she protested. "Oh, Fleur, we must tell them!"

"Are you finished?" Without waiting for an answer, giving no indication that she had heard a word Selene had uttered, Fleur grabbed the trunk, then her cousin's hand. "I must ask you to be extremely quiet. It would not do for us to be discovered by your parents." Selene opened her mouth to ask yet again what was the meaning of all this, but Fleur shushed her with an impatient, "Don't make a sound, understand?"

Selene could do nothing else but nod, and then Fleur opened the door and led her out into the living room. The house was dark, and the two girls were afraid to breathe deeply less that single breath rang out like a roar in the eerie silence.

After some time of careful walking, they reached the front door. Releasing Selene's hand, Fleur unlocked the door and opened it, letting in a cool blast of night air. She closed the door gently behind them, took Selene's hand once more, and led her to the sidewalk.

Dupont Avenue, where Selene had lived quite happily for almost sixteen years, was completely silent, except for the hum of crickets and the occasional hoot of an invisible owl. Rows of street lamps shone cheerily outside rows of houses, with shutters drawn over the windows. A bright round moon glowed above, surrounded by tiny twinkling stars, its silver light casting all sorts of shadows, tall and thin, short and stout, on the street.

Selene licked her lips nervously, looking at her cousin. Fleur's expression was one of stony resignation, as if she was doing something she knew she would have to do, but did not particularly like. "You do not look crazy," Selene ventured at last.

Fleur's deep blue eyes widened just a little, and a slight smile tugged at the corners of her rosy lips. "Ah, ma chere, I know I am giving the impression of having lost my mind, but, trust me, there is a reason for all this madness."

"A reason I would like very much to hear now."

"No, it is risky to stand here talking," said Fleur, shaking her head. She let go of Selene's hand and reached into the folds of her silvery gray robes, then pulled out her wand.

"What are you going to---" Selene stopped short when Fleur pointed her wand at the empty street.

There was a deafening bang, and Selene stifled a frightened shreak. A second later, a triple-decker bus, painted a violent purple color, appeared out of thin air and screeched to a halt in front of the two girls. Gold lettering over the windshield spelled The Knight Bus.

Selene had always wanted to ride the Knight Bus, but before she could express this thought out loud, a conductor in a purple uniform leapt out and began to speak loudly.

"Welcome to the Knight Bus, emergency transport for the stranded witch or wizard. Just stick out your wand hand, step on board, and we can take you anywhere you want to go---"

"Eenaf of zis chatter," Fleur rebuked him, speaking in English. "'Ow much would it be to get to London?"

"Eleven Sickles," the conductor replied. He was somewhere in his twenties, with large, protruding ears and a lot of pimples. He didn't seem at all perturbed by Fleur's rudeness; in fact, he was gaping at the two girls as if he could hardly believe his eyes. Selene couldn't resist smiling--- it had always amused her the way men stumbled all over themselves when confronted with any girl of Veela blood.

And then she realized that Fleur had asked how much to get to London. They were going to London?

"Eleven Sickles," repeated the conductor, adding, "but for firteen you get ot chocolate, and for fifteen you get an ot water bottle an' a toofbrush in the color of your choice. But you girls can have this one free."

"Really?" Selene blurted out, startled.

"Ain't often we get passengers as pretty as you two," the conductor said with a cheeky grin, his pimpled face turning red. "I'm Stan Shunpike, by the way.

"And this is our driver, Ernie Prang," he announced as he lifted the trunk up the steps of the bus, the girls climbing in after him. "Ernie, these ere are---" He looked quizzically at Fleur and Selene.

"Fleur and Selene Delacour," said Fleur quickly.

Ernie, an elderly wizard who wore very thick glasses, stared at the beautiful blonde-haired girls in front of him for several long seconds. At last he recovered his wits and nodded at them.

Instead of seats, half a dozen brass bedsteads stood beside the curtained windows. Candles were burning in brackets beside each bed, illuminating the wood-paneled walls. Fleur and Selene sat down on a bed, neither of them feeling sleepy enough to lie down.

"Would you like a bit o' ot chocolate?" Stan asked eagerly.

"No, zank you," said Selene. Fleur also declined, adding, "We want to be left alone now."

Stan looked downright heartbroken as he walked away, joining Ernie at the front of the bus.

"Where to, ladies?" Ernie asked.

"Diagon Alley," replied Fleur.

There was another tremendous bang, and the next moment Selene found herself flat on her bed, thrown backward by the speed of the Knight Bus. Pulling herself up, she peered out the dark window and saw that they were now bowling along a different street.

It was amazing, but Selene could not properly enjoy it now, not when her mind was focused on weightier matters. "All right, Fleur, what is going on?"

Fleur sighed, leaning against the headboard. "I do not think you would wish to know, Selene."

"But of course I do!"

"Very well." Flipping back her silvery hair, Fleur stared out the window, unable to meet her cousin's anxious gaze. "You're on the way to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

"What?" Selene gasped. "Fleur, you cannot be serious! I study at Beauxbatons, and term starts tomorrow. C'est impossible!"

"You do not have a choice. You are not safe as long as you remain in France."

"Why?"

"You-Know-Who and his Death Eaters are coming for you, ma chere."

Nothing could have prepared Selene for this. Not even in her wildest imaginations had she thought of such a scenario.

"Your parents promised to hand you over to him when you turn sixteen, not long from now," Fleur continued. "Selene, I know this is--- hard to accept, but your parents are supporters of the Dark Lord."

Selene shook her head in a swift denial, staring blindly at her hands. Jovial, cheerful Papa and gentle, sweet Maman Death Eaters? Servants of the most evil wizard who ever lived? It couldn't be not them But she knew her cousin spoke the truth, and a cold feeling settled in her stomach, threatening to spread throughout her entire body.

"Why does You-Know-Who want me?" she asked in a faint, shaky voice.

Fleur told her. As Selene listened to the astonishing revelation, the cold feeling engulfed her whole being, washing over her like a powerful wave. Horror, despair, and disbelief melted into one and flooded through her veins.

No.

This was not happening. These things did not happen to normal people like her.

But then again, she wasn't normal.

Not even by wizarding standards.

And suddenly midnight came, and Selene Delacour turned sixteen.

She closed her eyes and held her cousin tightly as an unbearable, mind-numbing pain took possession of her.