Chapter 2-
Draco leaned on the spade and wiped his brow. "This is servants stuff!" "Dig!" "If you let me use magic I could.." "Just Dig!" "But Hermio.." "DIG!" Draco looked at Hermione's tiered, angry face. He weighed up the pro's and con's of arguing with her and decided to carry on digging this grave the muggle way. "Sheeze." He muttered, scraping the dry dusty dirt into a pile. "I'm sorry baby." Hermione looked not the least bit sorry her boyfriend had to get all dirty "I'm just so sleepy, I was really scared last night. I might go for a lie down." "Yeah yeah." Draco carried on digging. "I'll see you later."
Hermione trudged off to the large sun-baked house and the door closed a little too loudly behind her. Draco finished the hole (eventually) and looking about to make sure Hermione wasn't watching him from the house, he kicked the remains of the poodles into the hole and hastily and unceremoniously buried them. Whatever had killed them couldn't be as bad as some of the creatures he used to run into playing in his old home grounds. Once the entire orchard staff had been trapped on the outhouse roof for three days by a vicious Tuftniff. They looked so cute, but where deadly. Plus, if anything did show up, he wouldn't think twice about using his wand to protect Hermione.
"Hello? Flo?" A voice carried out of the woods, and Draco turned about to see who had come all the way down here. A girl came happily bounding from the forest and hopped smartly over the fence. "Oh. Hi!" She called. Draco smiled weakly and half heartedly waved. "Who are you?" He asked, looking at her. She had a pretty face, and very short black hair, cut in a messy boyish way. She wore faded jeans, a small strappy top and scruffy looking trainers on her feet. "Is Florence about?" She said, stopping before Draco. Her eyes flickered to his make-shift grave for a fleeting second. "She's away. We are house sitting for her." "Oh. Right." She shifted on the balls of her feet and smiled toothily "I'm Maisy. Maisy Smith." She stuck out her hand. "Right." Draco didn't shake it. He didn't mind Hermione being a Muggle- born, since she was a damn good witch. And well, he liked her. But he didn't want to mix with regular Muggles. "I live up in the town above. Florence keeps my guns locked down here. I wanted my rifle." Draco panicked. Guns? Rifle? What? Draco thought quickly. "No." "No?" "No!" "No what? You don't have my rifle?" "Uh." Draco sweated a little. Bloody Muggles. "No. We have your rifle. But we are fresh out of guns." Maisy's eyes widened. "Um. She keeps the key under that flowerpot. By the shed door." She pointed over Draco's shoulder. "I'll..uh.. just go and get my rifle, then I'll be out of your way." Draco watched her hurry past him, and rummage about by some dusty terracotta pots. She unlocked a door and after a while emerged holding what looked like a shiny wooden stick with metal tubes. Draco dusted his hands on his trousers and wandered over to get a better look. "I have rats, on the farm." Maisy said, pocketing a packet of ammo. "We used to have rats back home." Draco said, still looking at the gun. Maisy noticed his quizzical expression. "Don't you have guns back home?" "No." "From the city eh?" "No..Uh...Yes." Draco said quickly. Damn it! He wished this Muggle would piss off back to her farm already. It was difficult trying to talk about muggle things. "Would you like to try shooting?" She asked. "I don't mind. Any friend of Flo's is welcome." Draco looked back towards the house. Would Hermione mind? She seemed upset. He wasn't sure if he should leave her alone. Plus muggles where not his idea of fun playmates. "Uh.. My girlfriend is sick. I don't want to leave here. You know, in case she needs me." "Flo's niece?" Maisy walked quickly past Draco towards the house. "Why didn't you say?" "It's none of your damn business!" He snapped. "Hell yeah it is! We where childhood friends!" Maisy pushed open the door and stood blinking in the dim light. Hermione was sitting at the kitchen table, reading a book named 'magical melodies, a history of the Weird Sisters'. She saw Maisy and quickly hid it. "Maisy?" "Heya Hermione!" Maisy rushed over to Hermione and gather her up in a suffocating hug. Draco stood in the doorway and scowled. "H.hey!" Hermione struggled free and looked up. "I haven't seen you for. um." "About seven years! You look so different." Maisy laughed, sitting down and helping herself to a cup of tea from the pot. "You too!" Hermione lied, thinking Maisy hadn't changed a bit. Draco sat down and grabbed the teapot, it was empty. He scowled again. "I just popped round to get my rifle. Flo keeps it locked in her shed, we have kids on the farm and we don't like to keep the guns close by." "Oh." Hermione smiled. She offered Maisy some cake to go with her tea (the last piece, Draco scowled once again) and they chatted about all the childhood games they played and of the summers Hermione used to spend at her Aunts. Almost an hour had passed when Maisy casually asked. "Who killed the dogs?" "What?" Draco and Hermione said together. They exchanged glances. "Oh come on now. Only the other day I could hear them barking till all hours of the night. No sign of them now, and a freshly dug grave in the garden. Have you called Florence to tell her yet?" "No!" Hermione cried. "We where so worried!" "Hermy!" Draco snapped. "Well, she knows!" Hermione said, in a stressed voice. Hermione explained to Maisy about the terrible noises she heard, and finding the dogs dead the next morning. She left out the part about the poodles. "Oh my God." Maisy breathed, when the story was over. She bit her lip and looked down into her empty cup for a few moments. She seemed to be deciding weather to tell them something. "Have you ever heard of Black Shuck?" She asked at length. "Black what?" Draco huffed. He had heard of a Black Sharg, they used to live in the lake at his old manor house. Big slimy monsters. But never a Shuck. "No." Hermione said. "My Grandfather told me a story once." Maisy said, almost in a whisper, as if what she was about to say was a big secret. "When he was 14 he used to work down the road at the old mill with his brother. They kept the machines clean. It was a four mile walk, and in the winter night falls very early. Once, as they walked home from the mill his brother said he heard footsteps behind them. My Grandfather looked about but saw nothing. For the next few days, after work the same footsteps would follow them though the night. "On the fifth night my Grandfather decided they should hide in the bushes at the roadside and try and see what followed them. Sure enough, halfway home the footsteps started. They quickly ran about a blind turn in the road and leapt into a ditch. The footsteps drew closer and closer, and a breathing deep and loud started. There, in the darkness came a massive dog! The size of a calf, with burning eyes, as big as saucers Granddaddy said! It stopped, opposite them in the road and stared straight at his brother! It was Black Shuck! A hellhound said to wander these parts!" "What happened?" Hermione said, spellbound by the story. "They say, if you look into the eyes of Black Shuck, you die within a year." Maisy said. "In most terrible circumstances!" "D..did he? Die I mean?" "He was caught in a machine at work, it tore up half his arm and he died of blood loss. Some of the workers say he shouted out in fright just before his arm was caught, as if he was startled into the machine! But the weird thing was, the months leading up to his death where also filled with tragedy. His livestock where massacred, and his sister was found dead miles from home, torn to pieces!" Maisy sat back and looked at Hermione. Draco snorted, Hermione looked terrified. "It's just a story though!" Maisy laughed. I'm sure Granddad told me about Black Shuck to scare me into staying in at nights." "Uh huh!" Draco said. "Well, thanks for putting our minds at ease!" He got up and ushered Maisy towards the door. "Oh" she seemed surprised "I was just telling you a story! I meant no harm by it!" "I bet you didn't. Have a nice time zapping rats with your wooden stick!" And he shoved her out the door, slamming it hard. "Do you think Black Shuck killed the dogs?" Hermione asked, her voice a little weak. "No." Draco sat down and hugged her. "That muggle is crazy! And you of all people shouldn't be scared of muggle monsters. The ones back home are by far more deadly." "Yeah. I guess." Hermione laughed. "She always used to try spook me out as kids." But Hermione wasn't convinced. Maisy used to make up all sorts of stories about seeing faries and once meeting a dragon. Hermione thought she was a liar and liked to get attention. But since she moved to the wizarding world she now knew that faries and dragons where real. What if Black Shuck was real too?
** Ohhhhh! Scary ^_^ Black Shuck is a well known tale where I live, also called Old Shuck by some of the guys in the pub. Its said if you see Old Shuck you or your family will die. Arthur Conan Doyle got the idea for 'the hound of the Baskervilles' when he was visiting Cromer (a town a few miles down the road from my house.) and a friend of his told him stories of a Black Hell Hound who stalks the cliffs. Hope I never see shuck! Lol. Part 3 coming soon, and sorry about the big delay in writing this chapter! **
Draco leaned on the spade and wiped his brow. "This is servants stuff!" "Dig!" "If you let me use magic I could.." "Just Dig!" "But Hermio.." "DIG!" Draco looked at Hermione's tiered, angry face. He weighed up the pro's and con's of arguing with her and decided to carry on digging this grave the muggle way. "Sheeze." He muttered, scraping the dry dusty dirt into a pile. "I'm sorry baby." Hermione looked not the least bit sorry her boyfriend had to get all dirty "I'm just so sleepy, I was really scared last night. I might go for a lie down." "Yeah yeah." Draco carried on digging. "I'll see you later."
Hermione trudged off to the large sun-baked house and the door closed a little too loudly behind her. Draco finished the hole (eventually) and looking about to make sure Hermione wasn't watching him from the house, he kicked the remains of the poodles into the hole and hastily and unceremoniously buried them. Whatever had killed them couldn't be as bad as some of the creatures he used to run into playing in his old home grounds. Once the entire orchard staff had been trapped on the outhouse roof for three days by a vicious Tuftniff. They looked so cute, but where deadly. Plus, if anything did show up, he wouldn't think twice about using his wand to protect Hermione.
"Hello? Flo?" A voice carried out of the woods, and Draco turned about to see who had come all the way down here. A girl came happily bounding from the forest and hopped smartly over the fence. "Oh. Hi!" She called. Draco smiled weakly and half heartedly waved. "Who are you?" He asked, looking at her. She had a pretty face, and very short black hair, cut in a messy boyish way. She wore faded jeans, a small strappy top and scruffy looking trainers on her feet. "Is Florence about?" She said, stopping before Draco. Her eyes flickered to his make-shift grave for a fleeting second. "She's away. We are house sitting for her." "Oh. Right." She shifted on the balls of her feet and smiled toothily "I'm Maisy. Maisy Smith." She stuck out her hand. "Right." Draco didn't shake it. He didn't mind Hermione being a Muggle- born, since she was a damn good witch. And well, he liked her. But he didn't want to mix with regular Muggles. "I live up in the town above. Florence keeps my guns locked down here. I wanted my rifle." Draco panicked. Guns? Rifle? What? Draco thought quickly. "No." "No?" "No!" "No what? You don't have my rifle?" "Uh." Draco sweated a little. Bloody Muggles. "No. We have your rifle. But we are fresh out of guns." Maisy's eyes widened. "Um. She keeps the key under that flowerpot. By the shed door." She pointed over Draco's shoulder. "I'll..uh.. just go and get my rifle, then I'll be out of your way." Draco watched her hurry past him, and rummage about by some dusty terracotta pots. She unlocked a door and after a while emerged holding what looked like a shiny wooden stick with metal tubes. Draco dusted his hands on his trousers and wandered over to get a better look. "I have rats, on the farm." Maisy said, pocketing a packet of ammo. "We used to have rats back home." Draco said, still looking at the gun. Maisy noticed his quizzical expression. "Don't you have guns back home?" "No." "From the city eh?" "No..Uh...Yes." Draco said quickly. Damn it! He wished this Muggle would piss off back to her farm already. It was difficult trying to talk about muggle things. "Would you like to try shooting?" She asked. "I don't mind. Any friend of Flo's is welcome." Draco looked back towards the house. Would Hermione mind? She seemed upset. He wasn't sure if he should leave her alone. Plus muggles where not his idea of fun playmates. "Uh.. My girlfriend is sick. I don't want to leave here. You know, in case she needs me." "Flo's niece?" Maisy walked quickly past Draco towards the house. "Why didn't you say?" "It's none of your damn business!" He snapped. "Hell yeah it is! We where childhood friends!" Maisy pushed open the door and stood blinking in the dim light. Hermione was sitting at the kitchen table, reading a book named 'magical melodies, a history of the Weird Sisters'. She saw Maisy and quickly hid it. "Maisy?" "Heya Hermione!" Maisy rushed over to Hermione and gather her up in a suffocating hug. Draco stood in the doorway and scowled. "H.hey!" Hermione struggled free and looked up. "I haven't seen you for. um." "About seven years! You look so different." Maisy laughed, sitting down and helping herself to a cup of tea from the pot. "You too!" Hermione lied, thinking Maisy hadn't changed a bit. Draco sat down and grabbed the teapot, it was empty. He scowled again. "I just popped round to get my rifle. Flo keeps it locked in her shed, we have kids on the farm and we don't like to keep the guns close by." "Oh." Hermione smiled. She offered Maisy some cake to go with her tea (the last piece, Draco scowled once again) and they chatted about all the childhood games they played and of the summers Hermione used to spend at her Aunts. Almost an hour had passed when Maisy casually asked. "Who killed the dogs?" "What?" Draco and Hermione said together. They exchanged glances. "Oh come on now. Only the other day I could hear them barking till all hours of the night. No sign of them now, and a freshly dug grave in the garden. Have you called Florence to tell her yet?" "No!" Hermione cried. "We where so worried!" "Hermy!" Draco snapped. "Well, she knows!" Hermione said, in a stressed voice. Hermione explained to Maisy about the terrible noises she heard, and finding the dogs dead the next morning. She left out the part about the poodles. "Oh my God." Maisy breathed, when the story was over. She bit her lip and looked down into her empty cup for a few moments. She seemed to be deciding weather to tell them something. "Have you ever heard of Black Shuck?" She asked at length. "Black what?" Draco huffed. He had heard of a Black Sharg, they used to live in the lake at his old manor house. Big slimy monsters. But never a Shuck. "No." Hermione said. "My Grandfather told me a story once." Maisy said, almost in a whisper, as if what she was about to say was a big secret. "When he was 14 he used to work down the road at the old mill with his brother. They kept the machines clean. It was a four mile walk, and in the winter night falls very early. Once, as they walked home from the mill his brother said he heard footsteps behind them. My Grandfather looked about but saw nothing. For the next few days, after work the same footsteps would follow them though the night. "On the fifth night my Grandfather decided they should hide in the bushes at the roadside and try and see what followed them. Sure enough, halfway home the footsteps started. They quickly ran about a blind turn in the road and leapt into a ditch. The footsteps drew closer and closer, and a breathing deep and loud started. There, in the darkness came a massive dog! The size of a calf, with burning eyes, as big as saucers Granddaddy said! It stopped, opposite them in the road and stared straight at his brother! It was Black Shuck! A hellhound said to wander these parts!" "What happened?" Hermione said, spellbound by the story. "They say, if you look into the eyes of Black Shuck, you die within a year." Maisy said. "In most terrible circumstances!" "D..did he? Die I mean?" "He was caught in a machine at work, it tore up half his arm and he died of blood loss. Some of the workers say he shouted out in fright just before his arm was caught, as if he was startled into the machine! But the weird thing was, the months leading up to his death where also filled with tragedy. His livestock where massacred, and his sister was found dead miles from home, torn to pieces!" Maisy sat back and looked at Hermione. Draco snorted, Hermione looked terrified. "It's just a story though!" Maisy laughed. I'm sure Granddad told me about Black Shuck to scare me into staying in at nights." "Uh huh!" Draco said. "Well, thanks for putting our minds at ease!" He got up and ushered Maisy towards the door. "Oh" she seemed surprised "I was just telling you a story! I meant no harm by it!" "I bet you didn't. Have a nice time zapping rats with your wooden stick!" And he shoved her out the door, slamming it hard. "Do you think Black Shuck killed the dogs?" Hermione asked, her voice a little weak. "No." Draco sat down and hugged her. "That muggle is crazy! And you of all people shouldn't be scared of muggle monsters. The ones back home are by far more deadly." "Yeah. I guess." Hermione laughed. "She always used to try spook me out as kids." But Hermione wasn't convinced. Maisy used to make up all sorts of stories about seeing faries and once meeting a dragon. Hermione thought she was a liar and liked to get attention. But since she moved to the wizarding world she now knew that faries and dragons where real. What if Black Shuck was real too?
** Ohhhhh! Scary ^_^ Black Shuck is a well known tale where I live, also called Old Shuck by some of the guys in the pub. Its said if you see Old Shuck you or your family will die. Arthur Conan Doyle got the idea for 'the hound of the Baskervilles' when he was visiting Cromer (a town a few miles down the road from my house.) and a friend of his told him stories of a Black Hell Hound who stalks the cliffs. Hope I never see shuck! Lol. Part 3 coming soon, and sorry about the big delay in writing this chapter! **
