THE KILLING MOON - CHAPTER 1
The darkness overwhelmed the space in front of them. It was a disused Church, set in the landscape miles away from civilisation, and thankfully, miles away from any muggles. Harry could hear the breath expelling from his mouth, and by wand light, he could see it cloud in front of him and disappear. The cold air seemed to seep through his armour, causing cold sweat. He knew there was something wrong.
At the meeting, before they had left, Robards had described the Church as recently abandoned. The lawn and graveyard outside were described as slightly overgrown but judging by the grass they had trudged through; this couldn't be further from the truth.
Harry, flanking the three senior Aurors, looked around himself furtively. They moved carefully around the upended church pews, they were scattered around as though a giant had flicked them from out of its path with ease.
Their movements caused the various wand lights to reflect the stained-glass windows. Cracks were running through some of them, deflecting the descriptions given to them Robards. The church was far more derelict than they had been expecting. A recent fight had taken place here.
Harry was about to state this to the senior Aurors when a vicious and loud howl drummed outside the building.
'They're still here,' he heard Auror Proudlock mumble.
But that is impossible, Harry thought darkly.
Robards had said that the pack of werewolves had moved on to the Irish coast. He had insisted that the pack had been spotted by local wizards. How could they have moved from the Scottish Highlands to the coast of Ballycastle within the space of one night? Robards had said they weren't in possession of any wands.
But Harry knew the answer, they were working with a dark wizard.
Another howl rent the air and the group formed a circle, gazing out into the darkening sky through the cracked windows. Harry stood in readiness, prepared for the ambush, as it seemed, so were the others.
The silence hollowed the air inside the Church, sending vicious shadows across the floor. But Harry was staring at the window in front of him, he couldn't decide whether it appeared to be shaking or not. The glass seemed to be blurring, like the shockwaves given out by exceptionally powerful counter charms.
A low growl hummed dully until a fierce howl, that could only be made by an Alpha, pierced the windows. The shock sent the windows smashing inwards directly in front of Harry. He was showered by large shards of glass and before he knew it, he was dragged to the floor by another set of hands, as the glass shattered around him.
Ginny laughed at the reflection in the dusty mirror. On the tips of her toes, she glared over Ron's shoulders. She had never seen him look quite this serious. With another snicker, she moved away and returned to the stool over by the clothes rail in Madam Malkins Robes for All Occasions.
'You know, George didn't laugh when he was here last week,' Ron said with a deep scowl.
'That surprises me,' Ginny quirked.
Ron turned to face her, his arms flailing out in desperation. 'What is it?' he asked desperately.
'The arms,' Ginny grinned, 'and the trousers,' she added with a tilt of the head.
Ron, dressed in perfectly suitable navy blue dress robes, looked like a man trying to fit in a child's suit. The arms and legs of the robes were about two inches too short. She had laughed at the vast difference in the colour of his mismatched socks.
'Yeah, well, they're going to lengthen them for me,' he huffed.
'Good,' Ginny nodded fervently. 'Why do you look nervous?' she asked.
Ron's face had scrunched, and his left eyebrow began to tremble as it did when nerves kicked in. Ginny rose to her feet and began to straighten the cream-colored ascot tied around his collar.
'Why do you think?' he demanded. 'It's one week away,' he added with a frown.
Ginny smiled solemnly, 'plenty of time to find a different outfit,' she mused.
Ron kicked her ankle and returned to facing the mirror.
Ginny, knowing full well she deserved it, made a rude hand gesture to his back, and returned to her seat.
With one week remaining until Ron and Hermione's wedding, the nerves the pair of them were showing, made Ginny wish to never get married.
'It's getting late,' she said, staring out into the darkening sky, 'we should be going to meet George in The Leaky Cauldron.'
Ron nodded his head astutely. 'Right,' he mumbled and wandered off to the changing room.
Together, they trundled over the wet cobbled stones and entered the loud, dusty pub. George was seated at a table near the blazing fire, Ginny pondered over to him as Ron inclined, he would get the drinks.
'What did you think of the suit?' George said after flashing a knowing smile.
'Not bad at all,' Ginny responded as she sat with her back to the fire. A lovely warmth crept up her back as she settled into the surroundings. 'Could be worse, could have been Aunt Tessie's,' she giggled, and George slurped into his drink.
'You know,' George said, the fire casting a brightness over his freckled complexion, 'the only regret I have in my life, is not having taken a picture of him dressed in those robes,' he laughed.
'That's understandable,' Ginny nodded.
Ron joined them, placing a glass of butterbeer in front of both of them and then his own as he took a seat.
'So, one week to go,' George said, with a suppressed grin.
Ron's expression dropped but Ginny couldn't decide whether the fire behind them cast his face into a red glow or if it were the nerves creeping up again. To save him from a reply, Ginny added in her two knuts.
'I swear you can't hold a conversation with Hermione these days if it's not revolving around the wedding,' she said with raised eyebrows.
'Mum's getting like that,' George agreed. 'I know it's happening in the backyard, but it doesn't take a week to degnome the lawn,' he added with a roll of his eyes.
Ron took a long gulp of his butterbeer, Ginny smiled inwardly.
'Have you heard from Harry yet?' George asked and Ginny's face turned perfectly neutral.
Ron shook his head. 'No, he should be back either tomorrow or the day after. He's been gone for so long that I can't remember whether I asked him to be best man or not,' Ron said and pushed his hand through his hair.
'Come on,' George said encouragingly, 'it's not like he's going to say no.'
Ron scrunched his face again, clearly thinking hard.
'Any luck on finding a date, Gin?' George asked with a side-eye.
Ginny grimaced. 'I've made the executive decision to go alone,' she stated firmly.
'Why?' Ron asked.
'Because I don't need all of my darling brothers sizing him up all day.'
'So, there is someone in mind,' George said.
He lifted his left eyebrow in curiosity. This made her smile; Fred would always raise his right eyebrow.
'What about that Ministry guy from last week?' Ron asked.
Ginny longed to curse him. She hadn't performed her bat-bogey hex for a long time.
'No, I don't think so,' she shook her head.
'You never know,' George inclined, 'there may be someone at the wedding that catches your eye,' he hummed.
Ginny rolled her eyes.
'Yeah,' Ron mumbled, 'just double-check they're not one of our cousins first,' he grinned.
Ginny smiled thinly. There would only be one person at the wedding she would be looking at, only someone who had the annoying habit of distracting her attention, even after nearly a year since their break-up. She hadn't seen Harry for weeks what with his busy schedule now that he was a fully-fledged Auror. She cursed him in her head, how annoying that he hadn't been around for her to glance at now and again. As Ron and George continued to discuss her recent love life, Ginny closed her eyes.
Harry opened his eyes and moved his hands which had been covering his face. His ears were ringing from the sound and for a moment he thought all his senses had been demolished. He moved his head around, sensing movement behind him. He jumped to his feet, his wand held out firmly in front of him, ready to curse. The other Aurors were getting their bearings when a massive wolf jumped through the window behind Harry.
Its mouth tore out at Harry's cloak, ripping it to shreds. Harry was thrown backward against the stone wall. The back of his head collided with the hard stone and his vision blurred. He slumped down and found himself on the ground once more. His face now pressed against the glass-littered floor, it shredded his cheek unpleasantly. He attempted to move, but the wolf seized him.
He could hear the vicious wailing of curses from his fellow Aurors, lights flashing around him, but he couldn't move. The wolf had pulled him towards it, its jaws clamping around his ankle. Then the wolf lifted itself on its hind legs. The wolf extended the long claws from its large grey paws and pounced. Harry moved out of the way, but one paw caught his chest and scratched deep into his skin.
Harry screamed in pain; his eyes scrunched tightly shut. His hand moved to the cuts across his chest, the wet hot blood clinging to his hands like Stinksap. Before he managed to open his eyes, he heard the thud of a body crumpling to the floor.
The wolf collapsed at his side and now Harry was falling unconscious. His body was trembling, he couldn't control his limbs as they jerked. The pain seared through him as people gathered around him. They were calling his name and using calming tones. But Harry could only stare at the quilted ceiling, a painting of an angel extended across the ceiling. Its white wings seemed to flutter as Harry attempted to keep his eyes open, willing himself not to give in to the pain. The angel smiled solemnly, and Harry faded into darkness.