Written for QLFC, Season 9
Prompt:
2. (object) dagger
The dagger shone in the light of the moon, glinting and shimmering as it floated closer towards the bed. The only sounds present in the room were of the wind whistling softly and the slow ticking of the clock on the mantelpiece.
Harry lay fast asleep on the bed, one hand placed under his head and the other arm wrapped around his pillow. The moonlight streaming through the window illuminated his peaceful brow, which—for once—wasn't furrowed with worry.
As the dagger floated towards him, he shifted in his sleep and rolled onto his side. The ominous shadow cast by the weapon fell across his eyes, and Harry's mind began to gain consciousness again.
A second before the dagger swooped towards him, Harry's eyes shot open, and it was by mere luck—and his honed reflexes—did he manage to roll off the bed and land on his hands and knees, surviving the surprise attack.
"Constant vigilance!" Moody screamed, suddenly popping through the window.
Harry screamed and whipped out his wand, pointing it towards Moody, who simply batted it away with a flick of his wrist.
"What are you doing here?" Harry cried, his heart pounding in fear. He hadn't expected him to appear out of nowhere—for Merlin's sake, he was on holiday!
"Checking to see if you still remember your training," Moody said, sliding through the window with relative ease. He dusted himself off and stood up to his full height.
"I remember my training, sir, but what are you doing here? In my room? On a Sunday night?" Harry asked, trying to calm himself down. He glanced over his shoulder at the bed and was surprised to find it empty.
"We've got a lead on Rookwood," Moody stated, striding towards the door and opening it a smidge. With his wand, he checked for any suspicious activities outside and turned towards Harry. "We have to leave now."
"I'm on my honeymoon, sir. With my wife?" Harry said awkwardly, trying to figure out how Moody had managed to scale the side of the hotel building—which was in the middle of Muggle Paris.
"Your wife can wait a few hours for you. Rookwood won't." Moody placed his wand back in its holster. Pointing at Harry, he said, "You're coming with me, boy."
"But where's Hermione?" Harry asked, panic rising in his chest at the thought of his missing wife. Rookwood could wait—Hermione, on the other hand, was more important.
"I slipped some Sleeping Draught in her drink and Portkeyed her to a safe-house in Nice while you two were sleeping," Moody answered.
"I don't even want to know how you did that," Harry muttered, terrified of Hermione's reaction once she woke up. He knew she disapproved of such methods; Harry remembered how she'd hexed Ron when he'd tried to 'kidnap' her for her surprise bachelorette party.
"Let's go, boy! Rookwood isn't going to wait for us to catch him!" Moody threw open the door and stormed down the stairs.
Harry sighed as he followed.