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 Lupins 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 Lupins hand, and made it disappear into his robes. 'That was the Test. You passed. Congratulations. Whats your name?'
Lupin introduced himself, then blinked around. 'Now what?'
'Buggered if I know,' said the werewolf, looking gloomy.
'Well-whos 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 spirits been bred out of us over the centuries. The fiercest of us were slaughtered. Look whats 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 nobodys 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 thats 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 companions 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. Whats the strategy? Bore the enemy to death with free prose and herbal tea?'
The werewolf chortled. 'I like the way you think,' he said. 'How?d you like to be an admiral, or possibly a baron? You can help me whip these pups into shape. Plan strategy. What do you think?'
'I think 'admiralis a naval term, and I?m not prepared to be a baron either. But I?ll be a general.'
He thrust out his hand towards the werewolf, not sure if that was proper etiquette but willing to risk it. After a moment, the other took his hand, and shook it. 'General Lupin,' he said. 'Welcome to the war.'
Draco stood staring at the door to the bedroom, imagining Ginny and Fleur inside, waiting for him, sitting on the bed. They would ask him 'What did he want? What happened?' and he?d have to tell them about Sirius and Fleur probably wouldn?t care, but Ginny…Ginny would hate him even more than she did already.
He sighed and rested his head for a moment on the cool closed wood of the door. I put my father behind bars. Maybe not directly, but I let it happen. Now I?ve put my stepfather in prison, and I did it with my own hand. I meant well. But does that really matter? He heard his own voice, talking to Slytherin. You can?t do good with powers that come from Hell.
You can?t do good.
He pushed the door open, and walked in. He saw Fleur, sitting on the edge of the bed, and his eyes immediately flicked around the room, searching for a sign of flame-red hair, a flash of green dress.
Nothing. She was gone.
He whirled on Fleur. 'Where is she? Where did she go?'
'She didn?t say.' Fleur shook her head. 'She just left. She even left the Invisibility Cloak 'ere for you. I?d imagine she went back to
'Arry and the others. She probably didn?t want to see you, after the way you behaved.'
'The way I behaved? Oh thats rich. Bloody buggering Hell.' Draco threw himself down in a chair, glaring at her.
'Its not very nice to go around kissing people if you don?t mean it,' said Fleur primly.
Draco made a strangled noise. 'Look whos talking.'
Fleur looked martyred. 'Men,' she said.
