A/N: This is a shoutout to MB (mingingbent), the lovely gal finally convinced me to put this on paper. If you have a chance go check her out. The title of this chapter Helle Nacht in english translates to Bright Night.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, most likely I never will. But that doesn't mean I can go messing around with it in my head. I do own however, the plot and a few interagral characters such as Belle. And I certainly don't own Thriller or Michael or his genius. Otherwise, enjoy and happy travels through fandom.
The TIG
Paper Dolls
by
mythtig
Chapter One: Helle Nacht
"Cause this is thriller
Thriller night
And no one's gonna save you
From the beast about to strike
You know it's thriller
Thriller night
You're fighting for your life
Inside a killer
Thriller tonight, yeah"
- Thriller, Michael Jackson
Blood. That's all that he could see. Blood. Crimson pools glistening darkly. He tasted it, breathed it, lived it for they had broken his nose and shattered his ribs. He was drowning in it. Clean air was just a filtered memory, saguine and bitters tainted every agonizing breath. He could even feel the tremble of blood down his back from where they hooked metal medieval gadgets into his skin. Absently he wondered how much blood one could loose before passing out or even death.
Another stab of pain riplled through him as the sharp toe of a boot sideswiped him. A grating, cruel voice spat out four seemingly separate words, "Werewolf. You still alive."
He tried to call out in pain or even whimper but all that escaped his mouth was the rush of red. He choked on the ruddy carmine liquid and it splattered all over the roughshod stone beneath him.
¨Good.¨ The harsh voice seemed satisfied, but he barely heard it as darkness and oblivion finally kinapped him.
Belle watched through slitted eyes as they brought him in, bloody and broken. He was unconcious but alive. Belle avidly watched with concealed indifference from her Master's side. She had never met a werewolf before, she'd read about them but never met one personally. To put it lightly, she was intrigued.
"Lucius." At the sound of her Master's name she cocked her head slightly, turning her gaze from the werewolf to her Master's Lord.
"Yes, Mi-Lord?" Her Master spoke gracefully, years of good breading yeilding a cultured tone to his voice.
"In lieu of such improvements on your behalf, I bequeath this half-breed to you and yours."
Many of the other robed figures which seemed to have been eyeing the creature with sparkling eyes growled and protested at being denied this prize at Revels. Belle didn't pay them or their quips any attention, her full attention on her master. He had just acquired the werewolf.
Her Master looked softly down on her, and curled a scuplted, pale hand in the sun-shaded ringlets by her ear. "Belle." His voice was soft as well, flowing over her like warm bath water.
She straighted, but was careful not to raise her eyes, "Yes, Master." Her voice was light and waif.
"What do you think?"
Belle contemplated not telling her Master of her interest but decided not. It wouldn't do her well to lie to him who knew all her secrets. "I like very much, Master."
He smiled.
"I think," Lucius Malfoy spoke carefully, you just didn't go giving gifts out on compuction. "He would do well with you Pet."
Belle's blue eyes lit up and she tilted her head slightly from where she sat on her knees at her Master's feet.
"Thank you Master."
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The TIG