4
Moody moved through the streets with a cat-like grace, his feet padding softly. His magical blue eye swivelled searching for an ambush. He came to an alley, the darkest alley in Hogsmead. In the shadows, barely visible was the black cloak of a death eater. As he watched a pale hand, that seemed ghostly black because of the surrounding darkness, snaked out from a long sleeve fingers curling.
"It is very good then." Said a low drawling, seductive voice.
"I had it all fixed, everything, they'll never find a trace." A different voice, strong, sure. "Exactly how much did they find out?" the first to speak, he had an eager tip to his voice.
"Too much," he laughed harshly, the sound unnatural in the unnaturally quiet night, "but they never had a chance to tell."
"What are you going to do now?"
"What the Dark Lord, our master, has ordered me." His voice was hard, Moody knew it was not often that the death eaters prod into each other's business. And the situation was getting dangerous, very dangerous.
"What has the spy reported?"
Moody stiffened, alert and tense. Spy?
"Which spy?"
"P-"
"Silencio! You fool, do not say his name aloud. There are some who still do not know him."
Moody backed away from the black shadows. There was a spy. He must tell Dumbledore, yet, he felt compelled to stay. For Gideon. For Fabian. For Dorcas.
"The spy reported that the Order met last night."
"Where?"
"The Potters."
"Potter?"
"Yes, Potter."
"well, well, the Potters." Moody could see the white teeth in the hideous grin. He could not wait much longer.
"What else did the spy say?"
"They are unsure about what Dumbledore will do next." So, at least they believed that the Order was uninformed on Dumbledore's thoughts and moves.
"Wait," the pale hand reached out, "someone's there! Quick!"
Moody didn't give them a chance. By the time the spells came they hit the empty wall where he had been standing moments before.
Moody moved through the streets with a cat-like grace, his feet padding softly. His magical blue eye swivelled searching for an ambush. He came to an alley, the darkest alley in Hogsmead. In the shadows, barely visible was the black cloak of a death eater. As he watched a pale hand, that seemed ghostly black because of the surrounding darkness, snaked out from a long sleeve fingers curling.
"It is very good then." Said a low drawling, seductive voice.
"I had it all fixed, everything, they'll never find a trace." A different voice, strong, sure. "Exactly how much did they find out?" the first to speak, he had an eager tip to his voice.
"Too much," he laughed harshly, the sound unnatural in the unnaturally quiet night, "but they never had a chance to tell."
"What are you going to do now?"
"What the Dark Lord, our master, has ordered me." His voice was hard, Moody knew it was not often that the death eaters prod into each other's business. And the situation was getting dangerous, very dangerous.
"What has the spy reported?"
Moody stiffened, alert and tense. Spy?
"Which spy?"
"P-"
"Silencio! You fool, do not say his name aloud. There are some who still do not know him."
Moody backed away from the black shadows. There was a spy. He must tell Dumbledore, yet, he felt compelled to stay. For Gideon. For Fabian. For Dorcas.
"The spy reported that the Order met last night."
"Where?"
"The Potters."
"Potter?"
"Yes, Potter."
"well, well, the Potters." Moody could see the white teeth in the hideous grin. He could not wait much longer.
"What else did the spy say?"
"They are unsure about what Dumbledore will do next." So, at least they believed that the Order was uninformed on Dumbledore's thoughts and moves.
"Wait," the pale hand reached out, "someone's there! Quick!"
Moody didn't give them a chance. By the time the spells came they hit the empty wall where he had been standing moments before.