Werewolf Hunting
Disclaimer: You all know the drill.
Authors Note: Chapter Thirteen... Woooo! Spooky! Creepy! Scary! Not really!
In this chapter... stuff... happens... Ok so I actually haven't decided what happens now. Man that sounds flattering to me. "Hi there! My name is X'andirth and I am your author for today. Don't mind me I don't actually know what I am doing here. I'm just making an appearance." Heh heh, could you imagine if I was an air hostess or something like that? "Hello, my name is X'andirth and I am your hostess for duration of this flight. Don't ask me where the exits, seatbelts and safety lights are because I have no idea. Have a nice flight." stunning yet brainless grin Oh dear...
Perhaps I should see how long it has been... a week... gah! This is just so I know where I am in the story myself, so I don't have to read each and every chapter to work it out. lol
Chapter Thirteen: Dreading
"Play that funky music, white boy!"
Moody groaned as Boewyn's voice sounded in the early morning. He had lived near a muggle with a rooster once when he was younger. Every morning he had cursed the bird (not literally of course). Now he found himself wishing for it.
"Lay down the boogie and play that funky music till you die!"
Moody groaned again. After listening to Boewyn's explanation of events he had realised that the damn hunter was right. Then Boewyn had pointed out which way they had been before the automatic apparition.
If that git could get any more smug... Moody thought irritated.
He glared at the annoyingly cheerful Boewyn. Why did he have to be a frequent morning person? Perhaps he was much better drunk, at least then he was relatively quiet!
Meanwhile Boewyn was air guitaring his way around their makeshift 'camp' lost in his own little world of madness.
He rose to his feet, putting on his cloak.
"Let's move."
Boewyn ignored him still air guitaring and singing.
"Boewyn!" Moody shouted
"NO NEED TO SHOUT I'M RIGHT HERE!" Boewyn was standing less than a metre away.
Moody groaned, today was going to be one of those days. For the past week he had been having one of those days, everyday.
HE rubbed his temples, then Boewyn spoke up.
"Let us sally forth upon our noble quest once more my irritable friend!" he cried triumphantly.
"I just said that" Moody grumbled.
"Well you know what they say, 'Small minds think alike!"
"It's brilliant minds, think alike." Moody corrected tiredly
"Really? Well what's that one about small minds then?"
"Small things amuse small minds." Moody sighed
"Eh gad, you learn something new everyday!" Boewyn exclaimed. Then laughed,
"What's so funny?" Moody asked
"Small things..." Boewyn chuckled.
Moody just groaned.
---
Remus was limp in his captives grip. He daren't fight them for fear of what they might do to him. They half dragged the young werewolf down a large and dark hall. Remus could hear things moving inside the walls, the floor was cold and slimy underfoot, the walls in a similar state. Wherever Remus was, something told him it wasn't a very inviting place. He wondered if anybody actually knew where this place was, if they knew it even existed. He suppressed a shudder as melancholy thoughts ran through his mind, thought of his entrapment, once more he questioned ever being found.
His captives stopped short. Remus raised his head slightly, before them was a door very similar to the door to his 'cell' except this door had a brass knocker on it, shaped like a coiled snake the middle coil attached to the door, the tail-end of the coil held in it's mouth, forming the ring. One of the robed figures raised a hand and seized the ring, knocking it twice against the ring attached to the door, producing a deep clanging noise. Almost immediately the door opened of it's own accord, slowly and creaking ominously. Remus was dragged into the room, a feeling of foreboding settling over him. The feeling you always got just before something terrible happened. The same feeling he had got seconds before he had been bitten, the same feeling he had felt the day Sirius told Snape how to get into the willow. He was dragged across the room to where a tall black robed figure stood, his face hidden by darkness. Once there he was unceremoniously dumped at the figure's feet and his captors moved away, bent in bows as the walked backwards away from the figure. There was a deathly silence in which the figure drew his wand and Remus took a shuddering breath.
Remus suddenly was forced to his feet and he found himself looking at the figure. Around the dark, cold room, lamps burst into life. The figure's face was thrown into sharp relief. Fear gripped Remus' heart in one cold steel hand, as he looked at the man before him. The man's face was pale and thin, his mouth curved in a cruel smile. His eyes were as cold and hard as diamonds. (A/N: Man I'm so poetic right now!) Remus found he couldn't move, the man's wand was lazily pointing at him, holding him in place.
"Mr Lupin" The man's voice was a cold hiss, chilling Remus to bone. Remus couldn't remember a time when he had been more scared, even when he had been staring into the teeth of a werewolf when he was only five, he was more scared then ever before and there was no one to turn to. No one to seek out for comfort, only pain.
The man, Remus assumed it was the 'Dark Lord' his captors so reverently spoke of, laughed coldly.
"Do you fear me, boy?" Came the hiss
Remus was so scared he could not speak, this made the Dark Lord laugh harder,
"Yes, I can see it, in your eyes. You are terrified." The man now began to move, circling Remus like a predator taunting it's crippled prey. "You are terrified of me, of where you are, of how you got here." A long fingered hand was laid on Remus' shoulder, and the Dark Lord spoke softly in his ear.
"You are terrified that no one is looking for you. Terrified that they do not care you are gone. You are after all only a werewolf. Who cares if you go missing? Who cares if you die?" The Dark Lord walked around Remus again until, once more, he stood before him, his cruel smile getting crueller.
"You're a monster, boy. One day you will turn on those who you call your friends and your family. You will bite the hand that feeds you. I can save you from that fate, boy. I can give you a chance, a place in this world. I only ask one thing in return." The Dark Lord took a step back, spreading his arms wide.
"Join me, boy. Join me. I can give you everything you ever wanted, if only you were to help me." Remus shook in fear.
"Ah, but you do not know who I am, do you? I am The Dark Lord – Lord Voldemort." Remus gulped, the name was familiar. He remembered James reading the paper a few weeks ago. The name 'Lord Voldemort' was feared by all of wizarding kind; even thought it had only been known for less than a year. Lord Voldemort and his followers struck hard and cruel, many wizards had been killed by them. The fear Remus felt increased insurmountably.
"Well, my young cursed friend? Will you join me? Help me bring the world under my control."
"No" gasped a hoarse voice, Remus' eyes widened as he realised it was his. Somehow he had gained control of his vocal cords.
"No? Well, we'll see which side you have better loyalties too soon." Slowly he raised his wand again.
"Very soon indeed."
Authors Note: Ok, I find this weird. Has anybody else seen that in the stats of stories, there is the first chapter with the most hits, then the second has less than half of that, and then the third is lower and then the fourth is more than the third (as an example) and so one throughout the chapters... HOW IS THAT POSSIBLE?