Challenge: Transportation
Word count: 100
His head hurt. Bleary eyed and disgruntled, Lucius reached for his wand.
It wasn't there.
"What!" Cold rage flowed through him. It felt refreshing in this ungodly heat.
"Orient yourself," the warrior in him reminded. Very well. The last thing he remembered seeing was that Potter brat, speaking in tongues with the Dark Lord. Voldemort had turned towards him, and there'd been a dramatic flash of piercing green light that burned… Lucius recalled hearing a lot of screaming. His own screaming.
Oh yes, someone would pay for this.
Now where was he? And what was he doing in a handbasket?
