A Song for Severus ~ (Not Update, but Edit)

Chapter 14 ~ Eloise Goes Home

As Fenrir loped across Pumbleberry’s grounds with Eloise bouncing on his shoulder, he realized he didn’t know where the muggle lived. He wouldn’t be able to find her at the proper time if he didn’t find out. The werewolf stopped, trying to think what to do. Eloise would be out for a bit longer as her body restored itself. She lost a lot of blood. He would have to scourgify her before he returned her to the muggle world for the time being. It was almost a month before the full moon would rise again.

After a moment’s thought, Fenrir placed a disillusionment spell on himself and Eloise, followed by a silencing spell and apparated for London’s West End.

The West End was a very popular area with tourists and had a wonderful theater life. But after dark, it wasn’t so popular or safe. There were quite a few rough neighborhoods in the West End, not that Fenrir would care, but for Eloise…it was another story. Fenrir found a bench and set Eloise on it. After he was sure she wouldn’t topple over, he pulled out his wand and pointed it at her. He removed the disillusionment spell from the woman, scourgified the congealed blood from her body, then focused carefully, trying to get the timing right for the next spell.

“Obliviate,” Fenrir growled.

He was still disillusioned. He sat on the bench a little distance from Eloise and waited until she began to stir. He stood up and walked several feet away.

Eloise groaned and opened her eyes, blinking at her surroundings. She recognized where she was immediately.

“How the hell did I get to the West End?” she said to herself, rubbing her temples with both hands. Somewhat disoriented, she stood up and looked around to see if anyone was about. She saw no one.

“Shit. I better get to the tube,” she said.

Eloise lived on the East End and had no idea how she got here. The last thing she remembered was counting down her drawer at the sweet shop. But Eloise knew one thing…she needed to get out of the area. She began walking, Fenrir following a distance behind.

Suddenly, a mini-cab pulled up beside Eloise, slowing and keeping pace with her. A rather grungy looking driver with bad teeth looked at the woman, smiling.

“Need a ride, love?” he asked her.

Eloise looked at the cab and frowned. It didn’t have a “For Hire” sign. It was bogus. These cabs picked up tourists and charged frightful amounts of money to take them where they needed to go. And they weren’t trustworthy either. A number of women were sexually molested by these kinds of drivers. At least one a week, the drivers deliberately targeting women who are obviously a little drunk, and/or who are on their own

“No thank you,” Eloise replied coldly, speeding up.

“You’re stupid for walking around these parts by yourself. Something might happen to you,” the driver said with an ugly look. “Better you come with me.”

Eloise scowled at the driver.

“I told you no. I’m taking the tube,” she snapped at him.

“Suit yourself you silly twit,” the driver snarled, pulling off.

“Arsehole,” she hissed after him.

Fenrir smiled and continued to follow the muggle woman.

Eloise felt a bit strange, her body feeling uncharacteristically light. She wasn’t tired at all…and she was always tired after a day of standing on her feet and serving fickle customers. The way she felt probably had something to do with her bout of amnesia. She was going to have to get checked out.

Eloise found a station, pulled out her Oystercard from her back pocket and swiped it over the yellow pad on top of the ticket barrier. The barrier opened and she walked through. Fenrir simple used an “alohamora” spell and followed, the barrier opening and a large shimmer drifting through, the barrier closing behind it. Eloise never noticed.

Several rather unsavory looking youths stood a ways down from Eloise, looking at her from time to time and talking among themselves. Eloise pretended not to notice them, but her whole body was tense.

Fenrir eyed the young men, and snarled slightly. They were discussing whether or not they should rob Eloise since no one was about.

Presently, one of them detached himself from the others and sauntered toward Eloise, his hands in his pockets. Eloise had her arms wrapped around her chest. It was cold and she was underdressed. It wouldn’t have been so bad if she’d gone straight home…she wasn’t out in the air that long. She never thought to end up in the West End.

Fenrir watched the youth approach Eloise. His hair was dirty blonde and spiked into twelve pointed peaks and he had a number of piercings in his face, through his brows, nose, ears and lower lip. He had hard green eyes, and walked with his head lowered, focused on Eloise. He was wearing a dark green jacket cotton jacket and jeans. The sleeves of the jacket had been ripped off, and lean, muscular arms protruded from the hole.

Eloise felt him coming and turned to face him.

“Hey love, gives us a quid now. I’m awfully hungry,” the young man said, his lip curled.

“I don’t have any money on me,” Eloise said, eyeing him. His comrades began to amble over in a little pack.

“Shit,” Eloise thought. She wouldn’t be able to outrun them.

Fenrir stood stock still watching the muggle be stalked by the youths. He did nothing.

He knew he didn’t need to.

“Come on now. You must have a few pounds on you,” the young man said insistently.

“No, I don’t,” Eloise said as the rest of the young men surrounded her.

“She says she doesn’t have any money,” the first youth said as the others looked Eloise over.

“Wot’s she got then that we’d want?” a short, black-haired young man asked, grinning lasciviously.

They all laughed rather nastily.

Eloise felt herself becoming very angry. How dare they surround her this way? She was minding her own business and told them so. They all looked surprised.

“Now, why do you want to talk to us like that, love?” the first youth said. Suddenly his hand shot out and grasped Eloise’s wrist tightly, jerking Eloise’s body into him.

The other boys all cheered and whistled.

“Let her have it Toaly! Give her the high hard one!” they shouted.

“No money…I’ll take honey,” the youth sneered at her, face to face with Eloise. As he gazed at her face, the youth suddenly paled.

Eloise’s eyes reddened and her eyeballs became covered in black pulsing veins.

The woman grabbed the boy around the waist and crushed him to her, his bones cracking as he screamed in agony. His friends all tried to help him, attacking Eloise, but she was everywhere, punching, kicking and scratching with blinding speed, throwing the young men about like rag dolls. Finally, they all fled screaming she was some kind of bloody martial artist.

Eloise chased them a few feet, then stopped, her chest heaving, and she flung her hair back, a vicious smile on her face. She felt like letting out a howl of victory, but she didn’t.

“That’ll teach them,” she hissed, turning as the train pulled up. The doors opened and she walked in, followed by a toothily grinning Fenrir.

He had enjoyed watching her put it to the terrified young muggles.

Eloise took a seat and stared out the window as the train pulled off. When she had been fighting for her life, she had smelled something sharp and sickly sweet amid the young men. She thought…she thought it smelled like Fear.

As to how she had beaten them, Eloise attributed it to adrenaline and her fear of being raped again. She would rather die than have a man use her body that way again. Her eyes grew clouded and she let out a little snarl that she didn’t even notice. But Fenrir did.

Presently, Eloise got off the underground and exited the station, walking through a rather rough neighborhood. There were a few groups of boys hanging about the street corners, but none of them even spoke to Eloise as she strode through them unafraid. There was something that felt dangerous about the lone woman walking through the East End as if she owned it.

Fenrir followed.

One boy sniffed the air, his face contorting as the wizard silently passed by them. It was hard to see his shimmer in the shadows.

“What the fuck is that? It smells like…like wet dog,” he commented, sniffing at a comrade who took a swing at him.

Well, it had started drizzling and Fenrir was wet now. He did smell distinctly animal when wet, though a more thorough and timely application of soap and water would have done wonders for him. But Fenrir loved the scent. Fuck everyone else.

He watched as Eloise pushed opened a door leading into a rather dilapidated building, and followed catching the door before it closed and easing in behind her. The woman walked up two flights of stairs, stepping over a drunken man who reeked of piss who was sleeping on the landing. She stopped in front of a door, took out a key from her front pocket and let herself in.

Fenrir walked up the stairs. Flat two B.

He’d be back for her.

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Draco was pleased as he returned to his manor. Now that Bellatrix had come forward, he wouldn’t have to spend time at the revels any longer…well, at least until Severus did his part. If he had to go back, he would…but Bella had come forward and that was the only reason he was attending the horrible celebrations of depravity, to find her and make some form of contact. He had accomplished that. Now, it was up to Severus to reel her in.

Draco let himself into the manor, loosening the collar of his dress robes as he walked down the long corridor. A couple of house elves greeted him as he passed. He returned the greeting and headed for his study. He was ready for a couple of firewhiskeys. He needed them to dull his memories of the night’s activities. To think his mother and father both engaged in the revels and enjoyed them. How could any sane person enjoy such a bloodfest then walk among civilized people as if everything were right with the world.

He shuddered as he thought about the young muggle girl Pumbleberry defiled. He was one of the worst of them. Draco had heard he raped children as young as ten years old, and not all females either. When the time came for Pumbleberry to be taken, Draco would like to have ten minutes alone with him. Just ten minutes, with no wands…no magic…just his bare hands. He would beat the fat pervert to death.

Draco removed his robes, took his wand out of them and folded them over the back of a chair, then poured himself a firewhiskey and walked over to the floo. He plopped into the armchair and pointed his wand at the fireplace.

“Incendio,” he said softly.

A roaring fire blazed up in the hearth, warming him. He felt cold throughout, and it wasn’t from the weather. He took a sip of his drink and tried to take his mind off the night. It wasn’t so bad. He hadn’t been steeped in it for weeks this time…it was only one night of horror. One of many nights.

The gods willing, it would all come to an end soon.

Draco focused on Malina. His beautiful, passionate, obstinate lover. He was tempted to go find her. It would be a comfort to have her beside him tonight, but he would rather wait until he talked to Severus and knew for certain he wouldn’t be needed at any more revels soon. Most likely he would have to go back into the Death Eaters’ presence to observe the dueling for Voldemort’s throne, but that would be bearable. It would be Death Eaters killing Death Eaters in what he presumed would be a fair fight. Not helpless woman being brutalized to death, unable to defend themselves.

Again, he was back at the revels. It was always this way. Brooding over the deaths he was powerless to stop, wishing that he could cast a room-wide Killing curse that would only affect his sick, twisted comrades. Draco cursed the day he took the Mark, but he was a survivor. He didn’t want to die. Taking the mark was the only way he could save himself. If Voldemort didn’t kill him, he was sure Lucius would have, for the Malfoy honor.

Draco sipped his firewhiskey, thinking about what Devon said concerning Azkaban and helping the incarcerated Death Eaters escape. Draco knew what would happen if his father ever got out. He would come for him and try to kill him for what Lucius deemed his betrayal. But Draco knew he had made the right choice. That insanity sequestered in the secret bowels of manors and caves would be widespread if Voldemort had come into power. Everything good would have fallen…evil would have free reign, the worst criminals reaping the most benefit. And that evil would have spread beyond the wizarding world, into muggle society. True, muggles had their weapons, but magic was still stronger in Draco’s estimation. It wouldn’t be long until the entire world was one dark representation of hell.

Voldemort had been stopped and Draco Malfoy had no intentions of living in a world with yet another Dark Lord seeking control of it.

Yes, Draco wanted to live. He had a strong sense of self-preservation.

But he would give his life to keep the wizarding world free if he had to.

No, Draco Malfoy didn’t have the soul of a Death Eater, but the soul of a dark, somewhat complicated hero.

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A/N: So we see what Fenrir was up to with Eloise. Very interesting. Thanks for reading. Next chapter…Severus and Hermione.