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I'd sworn this fandom was dead to me, plus, I have, like, six other fics I'm already ot working hard enough on, but...
The Thing That Follows
Laying the tip of his wand against the stone, Karkaroff began tracing the six-pointed star-within-a-circle traditionally used when summoning demons, the unquiet dead, or the more dangerous and unpleasant creatures among the ranks of magical beings.
Watching him, Draco suppressed a shudder. He'd always scoffed at the Hogwarts policy that forbade students from learning necromancy or demonology, but secretly, he'd been glad it existed. Everyone had heard about that one kid at Durmstrang who'd been eaten.
He really, really hoped Karkaroff knew what he was doing.
* * *
Several nights later…
Because of the Secret Keeping spell laid over the old house, one could not apparate directly to Grimauld Place. Remus Lupin, more than anyone, knew why such precautions were necessary, but just this once, he found himself wishing he didn't have to walk quite so far from the apparition site to the Order's headquarters.
The night was unusually dark, the hot summer air still and utterly silent, save for the occasional rumble of thunder in the distance, and he could feel a storm coming on. Remus just hoped the rain would hold off until he had gotten indoors.
The section of London where Grimauld Place lay had been very fashionable at one time, but now, more buildings than not had boarded up windows, or muggle graffiti scrawled across their walls, and most of the streetlights had burned out or been broke long ago, leaving the streets in darkness. Had it been any other neighborhood, it would have been the territory of street gangs, prostitutes, and homeless muggles, but the web of anti-muggle charms the Blacks had erected around their property discouraged that sort of thing. Any muggle who ventured too close to the old townhouse was suddenly overcome with the realization that he had pressing business elsewhere.
Remus had long ago become used to the eerily empty streets, and the solitude had ceased to bother him, even at night. But he was tired, knew Tonks was waiting for him at headquarters, and didn't want to get wet, and that made him walk quickly, barely glancing at the closed-up buildings around him.
Had Remus been paying less attention to the weather, and more to his surroundings, he would perhaps have seen the shape, black-upon-black, that had appeared in one of the darkened alleys, slowly coalescing out of the deepest of the shadows.
Had he been listening for it, he would have heard the thing's feet padding softly on the pavement as it followed him, never speeding up, never slowing down, always the same distance behind him.
And I didn't check the HP lexicon before typing this up, so I bet "Karkaroff" and "Grimauld Place" are spelled wrong.
The Thing That Follows
Laying the tip of his wand against the stone, Karkaroff began tracing the six-pointed star-within-a-circle traditionally used when summoning demons, the unquiet dead, or the more dangerous and unpleasant creatures among the ranks of magical beings.
Watching him, Draco suppressed a shudder. He'd always scoffed at the Hogwarts policy that forbade students from learning necromancy or demonology, but secretly, he'd been glad it existed. Everyone had heard about that one kid at Durmstrang who'd been eaten.
He really, really hoped Karkaroff knew what he was doing.
* * *
Several nights later…
Because of the Secret Keeping spell laid over the old house, one could not apparate directly to Grimauld Place. Remus Lupin, more than anyone, knew why such precautions were necessary, but just this once, he found himself wishing he didn't have to walk quite so far from the apparition site to the Order's headquarters.
The night was unusually dark, the hot summer air still and utterly silent, save for the occasional rumble of thunder in the distance, and he could feel a storm coming on. Remus just hoped the rain would hold off until he had gotten indoors.
The section of London where Grimauld Place lay had been very fashionable at one time, but now, more buildings than not had boarded up windows, or muggle graffiti scrawled across their walls, and most of the streetlights had burned out or been broke long ago, leaving the streets in darkness. Had it been any other neighborhood, it would have been the territory of street gangs, prostitutes, and homeless muggles, but the web of anti-muggle charms the Blacks had erected around their property discouraged that sort of thing. Any muggle who ventured too close to the old townhouse was suddenly overcome with the realization that he had pressing business elsewhere.
Remus had long ago become used to the eerily empty streets, and the solitude had ceased to bother him, even at night. But he was tired, knew Tonks was waiting for him at headquarters, and didn't want to get wet, and that made him walk quickly, barely glancing at the closed-up buildings around him.
Had Remus been paying less attention to the weather, and more to his surroundings, he would perhaps have seen the shape, black-upon-black, that had appeared in one of the darkened alleys, slowly coalescing out of the deepest of the shadows.
Had he been listening for it, he would have heard the thing's feet padding softly on the pavement as it followed him, never speeding up, never slowing down, always the same distance behind him.
And I didn't check the HP lexicon before typing this up, so I bet "Karkaroff" and "Grimauld Place" are spelled wrong.
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