Кассандра Клэр - Draco Sinister

Sirius held up a hand. "No. Not yet. Remus — "

"Heś here? Hurrah for the big reunion. Did we leave anyone at home, or did everyone come to the letś-get-killed party?"

"Draco-"

Dracoś voice shot up an octave. "Harry could be dead already for all you know."

"Not true." Sirius held out his arm, showing Draco the bracelet with its darkly glowing stone. "Vivicus charm," he said briefly.

A little of the tension went out of Dracoś shoulders. "How did you get into the castle?"

Sirius explained, as briefly as possible. Dracoś eyes crinkled in confusion. "A vampire?"

He echoed. "But the Test — "

"Yes. I heard there was a Test," said Sirius. "Raven wanted me to meet with you first."

Draco swore, at length. Sirius was impressed. He had quite a range and fluency for someone his age, not to mention a deft hand with imagery.

"That sounds like it would really hurt," he said gently, when Draco was done. "Assuming you could even get it to stretch that far."

"Shut up, Sirius. Let me think."

"I pretty much have to do whatever you want, don´t I, considering you´re pointing a pike at me. Is that really necessary?"

"Yes. Did you say you had Harryś Key?"

"I did."

"Give me the Key." Draco held out his hand. "Quickly."

"You know," said Sirius conversationally, "if I really wanted to, I could take that pike away from you, and break your arm."

Draco went a little paler, but kept his hand out. "I know that."

"Maybe you might want to tell me what you want with the Key, then."

Draco opened his mouth to reply — and stopped. Sirius heard the click as the door behind him began to open. And Draco swung the pike around — so quickly that Siriuséye barely followed its movement — and jabbed the end of it into his arm. Sirius watched in astonishment as the blood sprang up and drenched Dracoś sleeve.

And Sirius stared in bewilderment, Draco, now smiling a tense and very unpleasant smile, flipped the pike around in his hand, and threw it blunt-end-first at Sirius.

Who caught it. And stood there, staring, as Raven, coming into the room at that moment, inhaled a shocked breath and scrambled for her wand. "Whatś going on here?"

Draco clapped a hand over his bleeding arm, and assumed a furious and injured look. "Raven," he said, pointing at Sirius. "This vampire just tried to attack me."

"Attack you?" echoed Raven (now holding Sirius at wandpoint) and Sirius, in unison.

"Yes. He lunged at me with that pike." Draco pointed at it, and Raven, looking ashen, Summoned it to her quickly. "It is against the Law to lay hands upon Slytherin, or by extension his Heir. Such an act is punishable by death, of course." Draco raised his chin. The light from the torches turned his hair to a rather ironic silvery halo.

Sirius just stared at him. His eyes said trust me, but his actions said something else again.

"It could be blood sickness," Raven interrupted, looking concerned.

"Vampires do get that sometimes. Makes them behave quite oddly."

"Thatś what I was thinking," Draco agreed smoothly. "Since there are no other vampires here we could consult, I suggest you take him down to the dungeons and keep him contained there until the sickness passes."

Dracoś wince was almost imperceptible, but he ignored him.

"I´ll have to take his wand from him," said Raven, her eyes bright on Sirius. "And search him."

"Do what you have to," said Draco. "Only — don´t harm him."

"Of course not," said Raven. "I would leave that to you, Master."

"Thank you," said Draco, and there was a sort of desperate hysteria in his voice, although none at all in his eyes as they met Siriusácross the room. He turned his back then, and Sirius couldn´t see his face as he said, "You´d better take him now, Raven. I have work to attend to."

"Of course," said the banshee smoothly, and laid her hand on Siriusárm. He followed her without protest.

The door shut behind Lupin with the metallic clang of a portcullis crashing down. He coughed, and looked around a little nervously.

He was in a large, stone-arched room, whose high ceiling vanished into mist. No, he realized — it wasn´t mist, it was smoke, a cloying, sweetish smoke that filled the room with vapors. He squinted around, trying to see through the dimness. The room seemed to be designed almost like an amphitheatre, with a low, central stage sunk into the floor and ringed around with long benches piled high with beaded cushions. Sprawled on the cushions were a number of figures he couldn´t quite make out, although they were obviously human -

— Not human, he reminded himself. Lycanthropes; other werewolves, like me. The thought was unsettling. It had been years since he had been around other wolves in any number. Twenty-five, perhaps thirty years.

"´Lo, there." A figure evolved out of the smoke at his side. A male werewolf of about twenty-five, wearing a shocking green robe and with his short hair clipped around his head called out in an American accent. "Catch."

Something flew at Lupinś face. Without thinking, he plucked it out of the air and held it for a moment — it was a wandlike object with one sharp end, the other end of which was decorated with a glass bauble of some sort. It gave off a brief flash of light when he touched it, and then went dark.

"Right, then, you´re one of us," said the werewolf, plucked the wandlike thing out of Lupinś hand, and made it disappear into his robes. "That was the Test. You passed. Congratulations. Whatś your name?"

Lupin introduced himself, then blinked around. "Now what?"

"Buggered if I know," said the werewolf, looking gloomy.

"Well-whoś in charge, here?" Lupin demanded, wondering if he could weasel a glance at their plans or their battle strategy.

"I am," replied his companion, looking even more gloom-ridden.

"And you don´t…?"

"Well, look what I have to work with!" The werewolf swept an arm towards the rest of the room, which Lupin was able to see a bit more clearly now. It seemed as if there were thirty or forty werewolves in the room, all of whom were recognizable only as dim shapes sitting or lounging around on the cushions, giggling and poking each other.

"Bunch of apathetic, useless, longhaired cubs," the werewolf muttered. "I tell you, all the fighting spiritś been bred out of us over the centuries. The fiercest of us were slaughtered. Look whatś left. Bunch of wimps. Hey, you got anything to eat on you?"

"No," Lupin replied absently, still scanning the room. "You mean Slytherin — the Snake Lord just lets you loll about here like this, not doing anything? Where are your battle plans, your strategies?"

"I wrote a few stragetic plans on the chalkboard, but nobodyś paid attention. You don´t have any food? Hippogriff Crunchies, maybe?

Lamb Pops? Goat Crisps? Peanuts?"

"I said no." Lupin squinted down at the board at the foot of the amphitheater. It appeared to be a white chalkboard on which was written in dark green ink Plan For World Domination, above a few squiggles. Also, it looked like someone had been playing noughts and crosses. "And thatś all you´ve got?"

"Pretty much. This is our War Council. I hear the trolls are a lot better organized. You really don´t have any food? All we get here is hard boiled eggs. I´ll take cookies."

"No, I don´t have any — " Lupin checked himself, and reached into a pocket. He pulled out a handful of Every Flavor Beans in Flower Power flavors, checked to see if there were any purple ones (there were two) and deposited the lot into his companionś outstretched hand. Then he turned his attention back to the room. "This doesn´t look like the setup for a War Council," he said irritably. "This looks like the setup for a poetry reading. Whatś the strategy? Bore the enemy to death with free prose and herbal tea?"