The Wand Waver
By MJM*Mudblood
(A/N : I do not own Harry Potter, any of it's names, places or themes. If anyone says that I do, ignore them.)
Five
The mountain was as cold as ever as the sun slowly deteriorated. It had been three hours since their last confrontation and still the Wand Waver climbed. And climbed, and climbed. He was hungry. His stomach screamed for attention and his fingers mumbled about the heat. It had to be minus ten at least. Frost sat on the wizards hands and face. In a few more hours he would be dead. Unless
And there he was. The man in black. His hair clashing with his clothing and his face a deadly shade of the both of them mixed together. But the Wand Waver showed no fear. He stared at him. The man in black stared back. For a moment it seemed like the fourteen day hike had been for nothing.
"Why didn't you Apperate ?" The Wand Waver asked. Nothing. But it didn't matter. He knew why.
"Why didn't you give up ?" The man in black asked, His voice the sound of pure evil, screechy yet strong. The Wand Waver felt no need to answer. Again they both knew the answer. And then it hit him. Like a cold bucket of water in the face, Like a wounded owl strikes the floor, like...
He had no wand
"You have no wand." The thought changed into word in the man's mouth. The statement was cold. Almost as cold as the climate but not quite. And then the grin. A smile. But not one that you would expect. Far from the childish giggle of a school girl, far from the look you get from a lover who received the correct present. The smile was evil. The look of death. 'He's got me,' The wand Waver's mind told him, 'I've fallen into the stupidest trap on the face of the planet.
"And then it hit him. Not a thought but a spell. It hit him in the eye and he fell. He fell forever. He fell to hell and back and then to hell again. He fell and fell and fell.
And Fell.
By MJM*Mudblood
(A/N : I do not own Harry Potter, any of it's names, places or themes. If anyone says that I do, ignore them.)
Five
The mountain was as cold as ever as the sun slowly deteriorated. It had been three hours since their last confrontation and still the Wand Waver climbed. And climbed, and climbed. He was hungry. His stomach screamed for attention and his fingers mumbled about the heat. It had to be minus ten at least. Frost sat on the wizards hands and face. In a few more hours he would be dead. Unless
And there he was. The man in black. His hair clashing with his clothing and his face a deadly shade of the both of them mixed together. But the Wand Waver showed no fear. He stared at him. The man in black stared back. For a moment it seemed like the fourteen day hike had been for nothing.
"Why didn't you Apperate ?" The Wand Waver asked. Nothing. But it didn't matter. He knew why.
"Why didn't you give up ?" The man in black asked, His voice the sound of pure evil, screechy yet strong. The Wand Waver felt no need to answer. Again they both knew the answer. And then it hit him. Like a cold bucket of water in the face, Like a wounded owl strikes the floor, like...
He had no wand
"You have no wand." The thought changed into word in the man's mouth. The statement was cold. Almost as cold as the climate but not quite. And then the grin. A smile. But not one that you would expect. Far from the childish giggle of a school girl, far from the look you get from a lover who received the correct present. The smile was evil. The look of death. 'He's got me,' The wand Waver's mind told him, 'I've fallen into the stupidest trap on the face of the planet.
"And then it hit him. Not a thought but a spell. It hit him in the eye and he fell. He fell forever. He fell to hell and back and then to hell again. He fell and fell and fell.
And Fell.