A/N: Us again. (sigh) Seems you are our only reviewer again, DyingRoses. Is our title not attractive enough? Should we change our summary to "REVIEWREVIEWREVIEW" , etc? Ah, never mind. Chappie Three's up! And uh, to answer your question, our dear DR, our secret to effective updating is: We have the first few chapters buckling at the reins to be posted already, 'cause (again) we have been prepping this for quite some time.
CHAPTER THREE
Remus figured that his words wouldn't have had effect on her. Not that he'd known any other Slayers, but she was one of those who were unpredictable. You never had any idea if they took criticism as incentive or as something that they had to work against. One touch and they'd instantly flare up.
But he noticed that she consented to start her training the next day; she didn't even sulk when she thought he wasn't looking, so he supposed she'd become the least bit more docile.
After asking her to meet him in the Special Training Room, he set off to look for relevant reading material in the school library.
The moment he stepped in, he found Draco Malfoy lounging on one of the chairs, with his feet propped up on the table, absently flipping through one of the leather-bound books. Remus had been told that the boy was there to help re-organize the library before school starts, so he wasn't surprised. What did surprise him was the fact that Draco appeared to be contemplative... He'd never seen the Slytherin student with any expression other than a sneer.
Draco, having heard someone come in, shot a glance over the rim of the leather cover. Seeing it was Remus, he closed the book with a bang, and tossed it onto a fair-sized pile beside him.
"I heard some werewolf was back," stated the boy flatly.
Remus, unsure of how to reply, walked to a stray book trolley, and started checking the titles.
Draco gave Remus the once-over and crossed his arms. "You're not back to teach, I hope. For all our sakes."
Remus forces a thin-lipped smile. "No, Mister Malfoy... I am not back to teach. Would you mind pointing me in the direction of the Occult section? It's been some time, and well, whoever's been rearranging these books have done an absolutely chaotic job-"
"Fourth shelf on the right," Draco stood up, picked up the books on the table swiftly and went behind the counter. "What do you need Occult books for?"
"Oh, uh, well, you know, just doing a smidge of light reading. Us, uh, werewolves just love to read..."
He set off in the maze of bookcases, and after a bit of searching, picked up Weapons Through the Centuries Vol. I & II. Draco was still standing behind the counter when he came back, cataloguing some scrolls. Remus had the distinct feeling that the boy wanted him out.
"So, do I need to, uh, do the standard borrowing procedure?" Remus held up his book.
"Couldn't care less." Draco replied stiffly, going swiftly into the Restricted Section without a backwards glance.
As he left the library, Remus made a mental note to himself that some things in life never change, like death, taxes and Malfoys. Suddenly, his mind evoked the ancient memories of a schoolyard Lucius Malfoy that are much better forgotten. 'That apple sure didn't fall far from that tree,' he mused. Tossing the book slightly and catching it with his other hand, Remus focused his mind on the training ahead and started back towards the Special Training Room.
They didn't do anything much, exceptassesseing Sharon's martial arts and sword-fighting skills. She'd made off to a good start, being well-versed in the use of quite a few weapons, and knew the historic origins of many more. Not that they were relevant to her training at all. She just happened to become increasingly engrossed in Weapons Throughout the Centuries during a break, and no matter what Lupin said, she wouldn't put it down, so he gave up and took a peek at the book too, and soon, Watcher and Slayer were flipping through the weaponry encyclopedia together.
"You know, we've been slacking," Lupin said at some point.
"Whoop-dee-do," Sharon murmured.
For someone whose life was destined to be ruled by violence, his Slayer certainly had a more complacent hobby. Lupin watched her frowning in concentration, her eyes darting across the page, devouring one minuscule printed word after another. A pursuit of knowledge. That was another bonus trait in a Slayer. He figured that she could have made a fine scholar were she not forced to be the Chosen One.
Per chance, he looked out the window, and judging by the westward position of the sun, it was already early evening. He made a move to get up, but suddenly collapsed, as a sharp pain engulfed his abdomen, making him gasp.
Sharon shut the book with a snap. "You okay?"
He wasn't. When she caught sight of his face, his eyes were already glazed over, and a sheen of sweat had broken over his forehead.
"You must be coming down with a fever. " A very rapid fever. She helped him up, and he pushed her away gruffly.
"You'd better go... I'll be alright... just a slight dizzy spell, but I need rest..." He stopped, panting. "Go patrol on your own... you can manage, yes?"
"I- yeah, but-" she stopped and moved to touch him.
"For goodness' sake, girl, never mind about me." He ushered her towards the door. "And don't forget your cross."
Leaving the bemused girl in the hallway, he walked briskly towards the stairs.
Sharon frowned after him. Something was wrong. He was fine only moments ago... he was hiding something from her. She knew it.
Come sundown, Spike was already patrolling the more desolate places at Hogsmeade, searching for traces of the werewolf's scent and armed with a tranquilizer. He didn't know if this one was harmless. The last one he'd known locked itself up obediently during those three nights of the month. No muss, no fuss.
He didn't know how people here disciplined werewolves. That's why he told Dawn that he had to make sure the one he'd spotted would be restrained.
Rob had commented that it was unusual for a vampire to be helping stamping out demons and werewolves and the like.
He told Rob about the chip in his head; that the chip, while forbidding him to hurt humans, allowed him to fight demons. He'd have to make do with that. What other option did he have anyway? "I need my share of the blood and gore, Rob," he said sardonically. So here he was now, vanquishing fellow vampires, keeping people safe in their beds at night instead of possibly still touring the South African shores with Dru, sipping on human blood colodas.
He finally caught the scent when he came past a rickety house fenced of by wires. He could already hear the werewolf's piercing howls coming from inside, crashing its own body against the walls.
He checked that his tranquilizer was loaded with darts, and went off towards the house.
"You know, you're making this game of hide-and-seek fall into thereally disappointing side of Difficulty-O-Meter," Sharon complained, as her third vampire that night burst into a cloud of dust. "Those aren't the rules, you know," she said to the air, "You're supposed to hide, so that I can find you..."
Her previous Watcher, Ralph Adales, had told her that vampires could be really stupid creatures. They were only programmed to kill, to drink blood and torture. They naturally were, being without souls, but being the Slayer, you had no choice. It gives you the authority to be angry, to find them tiresome, and it's this pride and anger that helps you overpower them... although of course, she kept in mind what Lupin had said to her the night before. Then again, that was another reason for her to find the vamps particularly detestable that night. She couldn't have the chance to act upon what he'd said, with them dancing around before her, arms open wide in stupidity rather than threat. Face it, they were welcoming her to close in for the kill.
She stopped speaking when she heard a bang.
It came from the place Lupin had told her about on their way home last night - the Shrieking Shack. That was the way she'd come. Strange. It actually sounded like a gunshot. Wizards didn't use guns.
By instinct, she ran along the wired fence, looking for a gateway, and right before she found it, somebody sprang out from the path and ran away into the night.
"Hey!" she shouted, chasing the disappearing figure.
It wasn't any good. She'd lost him. At least... whoever it was looked like a 'him'. He might've darted back into the foliage to stop his tracks. She frowned and approached the house cautiously, dreading whatever might still be in it. The whole house seemed to be swaying on the spot, and windows that showed the pitch-blackness inside foreboded danger.
Stepping through the front entrance, she found a trap door leading downwards open. The intruder had probably escaped this way. Cobwebs suspended across the rickety staircase remained intact, so whoever it was, it was never upstairs. She made her way down the ladder hung with cobwebs and dead beetles (she grimaced at the sight of them) and came to a halt when she realized what was lying on the stone floor of the basement.
A shaft of moonlight shining through a small window illuminated a ragged patch of fur. The werewolf's form heaved up and down with every labored breath it took. Something was jutting out from its mass of fur. She knelt down and pulled it out. A tranquilizer dart. She rolled it around on the palm of her hand, puzzled. The intruder definitely wasn't a wizard. They performed every task with their wands.
She glanced around the room to make sure the werewolf was the only living thing there. She knew that werewolves are actually humans, and to kill one would mean manslaughter. She couldn't do anything about the sleeping figure on the floor now. It was late, and she was already yawning and massaging her shoulder. Might as well stay here to find out who the werewolf was in the morning. She settled against the wall, drowsily reminding herself to take the werewolf back to Hogwarts at dawn for Lupin to see, and fell asleep almost immediately.
A/N: Cookies for review! Cookies! And DR, you get double.
