AUTHOR'S NOTE: I'm starting this today, people, (April 9, 2011) but be warned it might not be finished for a while. My mom flew out to Memphis earlier this morning because my uncle had a heart attack. They don't know if it was a major or minor situation, but she flew out because he's her brother and they are family. End of story. The actual situation is that if the case is severe, my whole family here might have to go to Memphis, and I won't be able to write for a while. So, I'm going to try and get it done. I hope everything is alright, because I don't want to have to see my uncle on a hospital bed like I saw my grandmother. I hope you guys can accept this explanation, and to all of those who can't, you are serious messed up.
DISCLAIMER: I BID…wait a sec, whaddaya mean I CAN'T BID!
Chapter 16: Morrigan, Marcus, and McKnight
"Psst!" she heard a voice hiss from across her cell. "Psst! Huntress Morrigan!" her sharp brown eyes snapped to a figure in the cell opposite from her. They widened when she recognized the figure with white-blonde hair and eyes shining as bright as mercury in the moonlight.
"Drake?"
"Thank Maker, Morrigan!" he sighed in relief, which had her eyes widening.
"Drake, what the f*****g hell are you doing here?"
"I believe I was dragged here kicking, and screaming."
"I highly doubt that, Malfoy."
"It's true!"
"I'm sure." Her voice was dripping with sarcasm.
"Maker, how the Hunters found you is beyond me." The barb was meant to insult her; she just took it in stride, smirking all the while at the unintended piece of ammunition.
"Of course." It took him a second to realize what she meant.
"MORRIGAN!"
"QUIET you idiot! They could've heard us!" she hissed at him in a surprisingly good imitation of Shadow. He looked at her, amused. A smirk curled on his full lips.
"No, they didn't." he said. "But you've forgotten my ability to sense magical auras." She stared at him. He just smirked. She face-palmed.
Of course, I can't believe I forgot, she thought to herself, that ability could be one reason they have Draco. But she didn't want to continue that line of thought. Recalling what the grey-eyed man told her, she wondered if they were going to copy Drake's skills and find a way to add them to Shadows'. It would add an extra protective layer to the wards if he knew when intruders approached. Shadow was sensitive to magic, but couldn't actually sense the auras unless he tried. With Draco, on the other hand, it was completely effortless. He just woke up one day and saw colors blurring within and around people. His cousin had been around at the time to explain what he was seeing, and therefore, neither the Ministry nor The Dark or The Light had found out about Drake's ability. Thank the Maker for small mercies.
Footsteps echoed in the hallways, and the two froze. Both exchanged looks and rearranged their expressions to emotionless masks. Even if it turned out to be nothing, it couldn't hurt to be prepared.
It turned out that it was only two guards, unaware that the occupants of the cells they were guarding were listening to every word they spoke.
"So I take it Marcus was hired by the Dark Lord of Britain." One mused, he had a slight Parisian accent, but it was the only thing that proved he wasn't from Britain. His English was superb.
"Marcus X?" the other guard asked; he had more of an Australian accent. From what she could discern, he was probably from around Sydney. Then her eyes widened as she met Draco's. She knew that name. "His alias is Barty Thorn Walter. He finds it a bit awkward, but it's necessary when the target is one of the Lord's sons." The two captives exchanged startled glances.
"Yes, you are speaking of the youngest of the three, Harrison, are you not?" the accent was slightly more pronounced in this question, even though it was more of a statement. The second guard turned to the first and frowned slightly, dark eyes contemplating.
"I don't see how I could be speaking of the third when he isn't even publicly known, Jacques." He snapped. The first guard, Jacques, smirked. Blond hair fell in front of grinning doe brown eyes. Only Morrigan caught the side glance he threw at her.
"Why not Stephan? It is still a possibility. I know it is more likely that one of the older two brats would be the target, but the youngest is a possibility. No one knows what he looks like, let alone if he is the Hunter brat." Jacques was scowling at the other man. The second guard, Stephan, was slightly taller than the blond, with bright red hair, blue eyes, and freckles. She smothered a giggle at Drake's scandalized look when the second guard's appearance was revealed to them. In England, he would probably be mistaken for a Weasley.
"The brat that they want is unlikely to be so unnoticed by society. If the Dark Lord had a brat that could do the incredible things Shadow can do, then said Dark Lord wouldn't hesitate to show him off, Jacques. We all know how ego-driven Dark Lords are." And with that, Stephan sped up his slow pace and neared the end of the hall, trying and failing to hide his frustration from his partner. This ended up amusing his unknown audience and his partner.
Jacques lingered only seconds longer after Stephan had left, sending warning glances at the two eavesdroppers, before he too headed towards the end of the hall.
The two waited for their footsteps to fade before they decided to restart their conversation. Or, more importantly, Draco decided to restart their conversation.
"Is it just me, or does Jacques seem familiar?" he questioned her, a nearly unnoticeable glint in his molten silver eyes. She smirked at him.
"No, he is familiar. Did you notice his mannerisms? Do they remind you of anyone?" she inquired although she already knew the answer. The confident gait, the mischievous expression, the tendency to talk in a French accent without realizing it…all these traits reminded her of one person. And as she turned to Draco, she realized he had reached the same conclusion.
The differences were out weighted by the similarities, even their features were the same. The guard they knew as Jacques reminded them both of their favorite college age playboy, Declan McKnight.
Shadow
(AN: I'm going to try something new here, this is NOT Harry's or Tom's POV)
He studied the teen on the burgundy duvet with hooded eyes.
The teen had grown a lot since he had last seen him. The boy was now fourteen, if he recalled correctly. The teen was lithe, with wiry muscles, agile, flexible and had an incredible endurance assisted by his petite frame. The young raven was determined to avoid his eyes, focusing on the leaf patterns on the duvet he sat on. The teen sat awkwardly on the bed, almost as if he was unused to it, the man noted absently. His eyes trailed the teen in an almost obsessive manner, while being subtle about it.
He sighed quietly, too quiet for the Lord to hear him, but not quite enough for the boy. Suddenly, his dark eyes were sought by acidic green ones. He was fascinated by the boy's eyes. Every time the boy's emotions changed, his eyes would change shades until they matched. He offered the boy a small smirk, one that the Lord did not catch, before turning to said Lord to start the discussion.
"You wished to discuss the prisoner's interrogation?" it was phrased as a question, yet the others in the room acknowledged the statement as what it was. A statement. The Lord conjured a chair and sat so that the three were sitting in a triangle-like formation. The boy on the bed, he on the right of the boy, and the Lord centered in front of them. The crimson-eyed man leaned forward in his chair, fingering his wand lightly. He caught the wary glance the teen shot at the man's wand, and his curiosity was aroused. What could the Dark Lord have done to make his own child fear him as such?
"Yes." The man responded, "The prisoner involved is a key member of the Order of the Phoenix. He will have valuable information that might turn the tide of the war." He did not miss the way the man's eyes shot to his son for a brief second. The teen, ever the Hunter, caught the glance, but did nothing. It seemed the teen wasn't willing to engage his father in a discussion on what it possibly meant, most likely because he was in the room.
Smart Child.
"Do you know the prisoner's name? Do you have any information on them, whatsoever?" he questioned. He saw the teen peer at his father curiously for a moment, and then the verdant eyes returned to tracing patterns on duvet he sat on. The Lord nodded.
"Yes, his name is Kingsley Shacklebolt." Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the teen stiffen, but this time, the crimson eyed man caught it too. At once, the piercing garnet gaze was turned on the silent teen.
"You know something, child." There was something about the elder wizard's tone that screamed at him: DANGER! He knew the child had caught it too, but obviously he was more equipped to dealing with his father. The teen was not likely to be killed if he spoke out of line. However, he, even as a torture specialist, was likely to be killed on the spot if he dared to cross his boundaries with the dangerous Lord. "Well?" the man inquired, although they all knew it was a demand.
The teen looked at his father warily for a moment. But the wariness showed for only a split second, before it was replaced by an emotionless mask. A mask that the Lord saw through in a split second, though how was beyond him; when the boy put up a mask, even he was hard pressed to see through it.
The man raised an eyebrow, seemingly asking the teen a question without words. The teen cocked his head, green eyes hardening into jade. The man's scarlet eyes narrowed on his son, suspicion clear for seconds before it changed into triumph. The boy sighed as he sat back slightly. He recognized the signs of a silent battle, and it was all too clear who the victor was.
"Kingsley Shacklebolt." The man stated. The boy looked at his father, and then back at him. The teen searched his eyes, as if looking for something, before nodding as he found it.
"Chacun le sait qui ce gent c'est. C'est un homme qui aime protéger les gents, et parce que il a des enfants et une femme, il voudrait protéger sa famille. Il est un officier avec renseignements important. Il est très important dans le groupe d'Albus Dumbledore. Je le connais parce que mon amie, Morrigan, c'est son partenaire dans l'office. C'est tout ? "
The sudden French startled both men, but while the Lord had a translating charm in place seconds later, he was fluent in the language. The Lord was irate, as he had missed certain things from the teen's important information, and said teen's innocent look did nothing to help. He smirked as he thought of the 'information'. It was basic facts about Kingsley; it just confirmed a few things that they had been unsure of. But there was one thing in there that he was sure the Lord wouldn't understand at all.
Morrigan.
Morrigan was the teen's partner for four years now. Morrigan had left her birth parents, normal muggles, after they had forbidden her to enter the magical world when they discovered she was a witch at age ten. Shadow had discovered her in Leisure Alley and sensed her dormant powers. He brought her to the Hunters for evaluation, figuring that it would be no harm to her. His decision changed Morrigan's life.
When she arrived, she carried her muggle name, Hermione, with disgust. It was the only thing she had left of her parents, but she loathed them so much that she wished for it to go. When Shadow asked what name she would prefer to be called over Hermione, she had paused for a moment. She had then gone for the name Morrigan. She did not know if it had any significance, but she liked the way the name rolled off her tongue so naturally. It was almost as if she had been born with the name.
After a year, they discovered she actually had magical relations around the world. Her closest one was her young, twenty year old uncle on her mother's side: Benjamin Skylar. She met with him while in training, and he blood adopted her. Her once bushy brown hair turned to a sleek, straight curtain of inky black, and her honey brown eyes darkened to chocolate. She gladly took his last name, and entered the world of the Hunters as Huntress Morrigan Skylar.
She developed a power, with Shadow's help, that enabled her to age herself and de-age to her actual age. It helped her infiltrate the Magical Law Enforcement. Kingsley Shacklebolt was her partner in the corps. She dealt with paperwork while he went out to enforce the law, but it was preferable that way, the Hunters would receive more information as everything was filed somehow.
The information was directed towards him, not the boy's father. The teen knew he would make the connection instantly, as he had once been a member of the Hunters himself. Although, de didn't know what would make the teen confess something like this unless…unless…
His eyes widened, and he wanted to smack himself. The boy knew he had been the one to deliver him to the laboratory, and with the bond he shared with Morrigan, it would be easy to find out that she had been taken captive too, even though the intent had been to capture him. The boy wished to know if she was alright, out of long-lasting harm, but did not wish to ask in front of his father. A smile curled his lips.
"Pas mal." He whispered back to the teen. Not bad, he had said. He saw the barest trace of a relieved smile on the teen's face, noticed by both him and the Lord. Only he knew what it meant though. Seeing the irritated look on the Lord's face, he translated what the teen had said, word for word. Seeing the irritation morph into curiosity, he decided to take the conversation back to what it had originally been meant for.
"Has the man been trained against usual forms of torture?" he inquired. The crimson eyed Lord nodded.
"All of the members of the Magical Law Enforcement are trained to withstand the basic forms of torture." The man informed him, "Shacklebolt, being particularly high up in the department, will be trained for more rigorous torture than the rest." At this, his lips curled into a smirk, one that had the teen's eyes widening. He knew what the smirk meant, and it meant nothing good for the one it was directed at.
"Then perhaps you should let me have free reign over him." He murmured softly, seeing the teen's horrified expression, he smirked. The teen knew exactly what he was talking about; the teen had experienced his free reign when he was younger. Even at the age of six, the teen could withstand torture that grown men could not, and it made him smile in pride each time the report came in that he had escaped yet again. After all, he had been the teen's mentor for eight years, ever since he entered the corps in '84.
The Lord had seen his son's horrified look, however, and wondered what exactly would cause him to look like that.
"You intend on going all out on Shacklebolt?" the question was smooth, and rolled off the teen's tongue with little effort and a slight American accent. Though from where, he could not discern. His mind registered the teen's question and he smirked.
"Yes. If all of the Magical Law Enforcement are trained to withstand basic and more rigorous acts of torture, that going all out would be the only way to get answers out of him, considering Kingsley's high up position." He responded, his voice taking on a lecturing tone. He used this voice often when training Shadow.
"Why not simply threaten the kidnapping of his wife and children? Knowing we have the ability to capture them and do them harm, it will affect him psychologically, and he will be more inclined to talk about certain things we will not gain from him through physical persuasion. Especially since he does not know that we will not harm them." The teen's insight and very Jacques-like accent had him smiling. He had been waiting for the teen to point it out.
"While that is a good solution, the fact of the matter is that we want to keep Kingsley's abduction as quiet as possible. If his wife and children were to be found missing, the first people they would contact is Kingsley himself. If he is found missing– "here the teen cut him off.
"Then the Law Enforcement will take all the known facts into consideration. They will generate a small search for their missing officer, and if they find evidence that suggested the family willingly left on some sort of vacation all will be overlooked, and the only fact suggesting Kingsley was captured would be the fact that he did not alert the Ministry he was taking a holiday." The teen's smirk suggested that the evidence will be something they faked. Overall, it was a rather good plan. They could even fake a letter from Kingsley to the Department head so it would be less suspicious.
Nodding, the three of them proceeded to iron out the details of the plan. Smirking, he met the teen's emerald eyes. Oh, he would be having words with the teen soon.
Oh yeah! I'm on a ROLL! 3,069 words and clocks in as my largest chapter EVER!
Completed on: Sunday, April 10, 2011 10:40am
Thanks for everything guys, I was a few reviews short on this, but I've been on a roll and I suppose it should make up for the wait that's going to happen. The poll on my profile demands attention, and once I close it and find my answer, I will start the next chapter. So, I apologize but it will be a long wait. That is why I have updated (this makes 3) three times this week. I hope you all understand in advance. My uncle is fine, he woke up last night. I'm very happy. Three thousand words, yippee!
Your lovely authoress,
Em =)