Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince…And Others
Chapter Six Beginning
"We'd been tagging all sorts along the Californian coast when suddenly we couldn't find even a vamp. Figured they must've migrated somewhere, and then we get all these leads over up in London, England. Ordered to check it out, found out we could be baggin' five werewolves a full moon, when it came." Riley explained as they passed rows of steel cages were men were laying on hard cots.
"Must keep you busy," Anya said, her eyes drifting to stack of wands. "You've been confiscating wands?"
"So that's what they are? Some black robed humans were attacking us with them a few nights ago. Five down when we finally got smart and started retaliating.We've got them all in a detention center nearby." Anya looked at the stacks, then to Riley.
"I've orders from Dumbeldore to ask you about recruiting. He's asked me to try and persuade who I can; werewolves, demons; vampires, even. I am back in the Vengeance fold, y'know. Even after our spat last summer, D'Hoffryn took me up and in."
Riley nodded, his eyes drifting to the pink gash just visible on her right shoulder.
"Oh, that's how I died." Anya told Riley. "Straight through the bone. Hurt a lot. So, can I see the humans, talk to them?"
Riley looked to his commanding officer, who'd been listening in, and nodded. "Come this way."
Buffy brushed the dust from her pants and sighed. It'd been to easy a kill, and she guess the vamp had been newly risen, or just too weak to take on the revving Slayer.
"Out for a walk, luv?" she heard Spike's voice from behind, and turned to smile. There he stood, hands in duster, cigarette dying red perched between his lips.
"I need a kill. Bad."
"Fortunatly, I smell blood. Vamps near by." He threw down his cigarette, crunching it between his heel.
"Human blood?" She asked, turning to face the forest. Spike wrinkled his nose, inhaling deeply.
"Some. Half-breed of some kind." He told her after a moment. Tightening her grip on her stake, she looked up at the castle, the glowing lights that filled some of the windows.
"You don't think Dru had anything to do with it, so you?" she asked, concerned, but Spike shook his head. "Okay, then. Where we headed?"
Spike cocked his head to the side and sniffed heavily again. Then he turned to the small hut a few hundred yards away. His blue eyes hardened into black, and he made for the hut.
"There!"
"Oh my God..." Buffy said quietly as they came upon the hut. The large bloodhound Fang was huddled in a corner, whimpering, his shoulder and hind torn open. The small hut was thrown about in such a mess of dissaray; tankards rolled about the floor, milk and biscuits were thrown and broken on the floor, and chairs were broken to splinters around the cramped floor.
Spike moved ahead of Buffy to the Giant's side and checked for a pulse before assesing his wounds.
"He's alive." He told Buffy. "But just barely." There was no answer from the Slayer, and when he turned to her, he caught sight of her, hand over mouth, looking at the wall where pictures and desk had been thrown across the room. When he looked up to see the words, his heart clenched.
"Blood of Innocents, Spread for our Master." He read before she lurched over the table and vomited.
"Hagrid!" The three teens called at once as the approached the groundskeeper spread over two conjoined cots. He opened his bleary eyes and his beard twitched a bit. Hermione was looking at the gauze on his neck and the burns on his face with shock and revulsion. Ron was looking at his feet, mumbling something, and Harry was standing off, watching him carefully.
"Oh, this is just awful!" Hermione said after a while. "It's dreadful, a-and sadistic a-a-and...oh, Hagrid, it's just so hateful." She was choking out mangled sobs now, wiping at her eyes with he sleeve.
"Did you see who attacked you?" Harry asked as Hermione buried her face in Rons' shoulder. Hagrid peered at himhazily from his crusted and swollen eyes. His face was pale as the bedsheets, his hair scraggly.
"Vampire." He grunted. "A coupla them. Mean and nasty as hell. Took me up fer a fight after they tricked me into invit'n them in."
"How?" Harry asked quietly, low enough so that Madam Pomfrey in the corner couldn't overhear. Hermione, wiping her red eyes, leaned in, grasping Hagrids' large hand as she trembled.
"Masquerading as...as Hogwarts' folk...Polyjuice, or a glamour..." he sighed heavily, before waving them away. "Git to, then,classes, eh? Don't want you in trouble on my account." Hermione nodded hurriedly as she shouldered her pack, face clear, though sullen.
"Yes, we have an exam in Potions today." she said before giving Harry a triumphant smile. "Closed book."
As Harry sagged and tried to remeber what complex potion Slughorn had said he would test them for, Ron slapped Hagrid softly on the shoulder, coming in close like a captain reassuiring a teammember.
"S'okay Hagrid. No point in beatin' yourself up about what happeed. Let bygoners be...err.. bygoners."
"Bygones, Ron. It's Bygones." Hermione corrected before landing a swepful kiss to Hagrids' hairy cheek. "Bye Hagrid. Take care."
"Eh...tell that Spike bloke thanks fer me, wouldya?" Hagrid called as the doors swung shut between the trio.
"What'd he do?" Ron asked Hermione with an air of distaste while Hermione shrugged in like confusion.
Anya lay back in the recliner. Her room was above the Leaky Cauldron, half a block from the Initiatives headquarters. Her head hurt from the headache-inducing spats she'd had with the Death Eaters now held in a No-Apparation enviroment. They'd been stripped of weapons, sharp and blunt items, and the ability to Apparate.
But the yelled and cursed loud enough. Long enough.
Taking the blue Tylenol, she swallowed it down with some water and tried to clear her head, but the conversation held so hard and cold in her head...
...She remembered how cold the tile and walls had been, stepping into the steel room, bolted shut. Five hard cots were bolted into the ground with cotton-stuffed mattresses. The springbox had been removed, and thin sheet and a cotton pillow lay on each bed. She shivered when she saw the manacles that were attached to each foot. In her eyes, the jingled motionlessly as she faced the five sunken faces.
"Demon!" hissed a sallow faced woman with thick blond tresses and heavy lashes. "Anyanka, you traitor."
"Bellatrix, I would advise you to be quiet about such things as you don't know of." Anya said with a hidden power to her words. "The side I played before does not suit me now."
"Oh, think you we don't know? Acrabus told us. "You fell for a muggle. And let's face it Anyanka, when you fall, you fall far and hard."
"Shut up Lestrange!" Anya warned, her eyes flashing dangerously before turning her eyes to the only other woman, who smiled wide when Anya acknowledged her.
"Narcissa. Do tell, how has Voldemort corrupted your life this time? Has he killed your family again? Your child again?" Narcissa's eyes became wide at this and she lunged at Anyas' throat, and it was then she was glad for one of the Commando's taser.
"Back, Narcissa." she said, before her eyes became softer. "Alexandria was such a pretty girl. How old was she? Ten, eleven? I forget, you see. I've carried on a life so long..." But Narcissa was dreamy eyed, cradling something invisible to her chest.
"Oh, my little Alex..." she sighed, before her expression became harsher and she threw down her arms. "But she was a trash talking brat. Always going off on how we would all pay for our sins. I still wonder from where the nonsense came. She'd always follow me around the house at times when Lucius and I returned from meetings, shouting at how wicked we were...It was almost a releif that Voldemort offed her. Quick and quiet. She needn't feel a thing, he'd say when he poisened her."
"You let him?" Anya asked in disbeleif."How could you let some man walk into your life and totally destroy it? Destroy a part of you when you have your own rights to it! Men have no right to take a woman apart like that! None! How could you let him do that, Narcissa? Little Alex?"
"It was his daughter..." Spoke a scraggly man from the corner cot. His black robes were clean and pressed, but his hair was limp and greasy, his eyes black, but red. "Voldemort...he is...supreme. He has what he wants, takes what he wants." The man was slowly approaching her, his crazed eyes looking her up and down. "And he doesn't feel..." he whispered. "He's so sick, he's twisted, I'll admit, but he is the Dark Lord. He has me, he owns us all." He spread his arms wide and cackled. "He owns us all, and death will rain down on us like acid, it will burn and sting your lashes so that they singe to a crisp."
"Acrabus..." warned another man, well built with blonde hair and deep green eyes. "Sit down before your mind corrupts us all with such talk."
"You seem more sane than the rest." Anya said, assesing the man. "But then again..."
"The name is Thomson. And the other fool in the corner is Marcus. You'd do well to note that the rest are none too right in the head. If you want to talk to anyone, I'm to tell you to bugger off."
"Okay Thomson..." Anya said before quirking a finger to the guard behind her. At the signal, the man dove in with the taser. The rest of the Death Eaters screeched as Thompson fell to the floor. As two other men hauled the limp body to onto a gurney, Anya retrieved the silver flask of Veritaserum.
"Where is Lord Voldemort?" Anya said, the chained man across from her staring with blank eyes.
"We are his followers. We are not told, only summoned." He said in a flat tone.
"What are his plans?" She asked.
"We are his followers. He reveals them only when he is ready to put the plan into action."
Anya sighed in exasperation. Only a few minutes ago had Dumbeldore contacted her with new questions, and she consulted the list before her.
"Has Voldemort had anything to do with the Vampire Drusilla?"
"No. He turned the vampire away."
"Why? Why wouldn't he want a master vampire like Drusilla?" She was genuinly confused to this, and kept her eyes to the still-blank expression of the man.
"He sensed and knows of the strong connection she has with the Vampire Spike and his Slayer consort. This is what he told us, because he expressed thought of an underlying trust."
"So why not dust her? Poof? No underlying trust problems then, right? Right?"
At this, Thompson grinned wickedly.
"He has plans." He said quietly. "The Dark Lord will not tell me, but he has plans."
"Has he told anyone? Any of the Death Eaters locked up here?"
"No. He has only one trusted confidante. But he is not here."
"Is he at Hogwarts? Is he anyone the Dumbeldore knows?"
"Yes."
"Who is it?" Anya was exciteded, eyes wide, hands fgipping the side of her seat as the tricked Death Eaters mouth opened.
But then He blinked. He blinked once, then twice, and by then he had begun to come to his senses, breathing tightly, eyes wide, mouth agape. He was blinking rapidly, and seemed to be choking on his words.
"Damn!" Anya cursed. She had used all of her small vial on the man. Oh well. She'd just get some more.
"I-I-I-" The Death Eater stuttered before he screamed in agony and clutched at his chest. "No! No, but I didn't mean it! No!" He wailed as he convulsed in the chair, and Anya was rigid now, staring as Thompson tossed and turned on the chair until he suddenly went limp. His mouth hung open, his arms clutched rigidly to his throat. His eyes were full of terror, and the scream hung empty on his lips.
"Oh my God..." Anya said softly, standing up queasily. "Oh, Gosh..."
One of the commandos stepped forward and checked the pulse of the limp man.
"He's dead." He said loudly. Another man came and help to drag him back onto the gurney to be wheeled away.
"Can I take you home?" Asked a soft voice behind her. Anya turned, patting her brown hair softly and shaking her head.
"No, No. I-I'll be okay..Really." she was shaken. How long had it been since she'd witnessed a death like that? That, that was pure vengeance. A long time ago, that's what she'd wished she could have done to Xander..but...
What hatred and malice...That had been pure, unadultered evil.
Vengeance.
Drusilla watched the Slayer throught the crack of her door as she dressed, and hummed to herself, watching with calculated eyes as Spike caught her up in his arms and kissed her, pushing her flush against the dresser. She watched the blonde wrap her arms around her Vampire consort, her arms runnign down smooth skin and she remebered a time when she could lay on the grass, lips stained in blood on a grassy hill and feel Williams head between her skirts.
What a long time ago...She thought. When Miss Edith was young and William and she could kill without remorse. Revel in blood, in cherry blooded lips.
She hummed softer, a small tune William knew quiet well. She could tell he heard, because the Slayer untangled herself and moved aways. She head the feral growl in her Childes throat and hummed a little louder.
"Hmm Hmmm mmm Mmmm mm mm mmmm, Hmm mmm mm mmm mm mmmmm" And then she broke into song, soft under her breath, "I heard a young maiden singing in the valley below." But then she stopped and turn to see the mixed emotions playing across Williams' face and stood up, twirling in small circles as she hummed and sang. "Oh don't decieve me, oh never leave me. How could you use a poor maiden so?" She ended the song, and stopped, her slip soft and falling around her knees. She watched him with a dreamy smile as he stepped torwards the door, and as he shut it, she turned and walked away.
Malfoy sat in the plush chair, eyes closed as he thought carefully. When he opened his eyes again, a raven haired woman was standing before him. His eyes bugged out at her Raven black hair and lucid smile. The white slip of a dress she word barely covered her, and where her black hair fell, her breasts would have been otherwise visible.
"Wh-who are you?" He spluttered, his eyes wider than plates now.
"No worries, sweet Draco." she cooed, grinning as her eyes flashed yellow. "Sweet Drusilla's come to help."
A/N: I know I may not have said so earlier, but your reviews make me the happiest person alive. And you must realize that I could get no where without your helpful...help and I want you always and forever to point out my every slip and misspelling so I can go back and finish it. Please, If you read this, Review! It always makes an Author happy to hear - or read- it.