Categories > Books > Harry Potter > Memories of a wand
Beta: kin2cats
A/N: The story is playing out in Marauder Era, pre-HP books. HBP does not count.
Chapter 3
Moody made his way toward one of the oldest brothels in Knockturn Alley, the Rouge Noir. It was housed in a 4-story building; it was a shabby place like everything in the alley. Some whores stood at the entrance of the Rouge Noir, there was a big choice between them, there were young ones and old, beautiful and ugly, man and woman. Moody couldn't fathom what growing up in this place could be like, but it couldn't have been easy.
Some of the whores watched him with guarded looks; Moody was well-known in the area, one or two of them he had caught for stealing or prostitution in Diagon Alley or Hogsmeade. He went inside.
On the first floor was a dark, smoke-filled pub with soft enchanted music playing in the background. It was not dark out yet, but almost a dozen customers lingered around the bar, who knew how many more were occupied with a whore on one of the higher floors. Moody went up to the bar where a middle-aged, almost beautiful woman served the drinks. The woman turned to him with a raised eyebrow.
"How can I serve you?" purred the woman, while she smiled at him.
"My name is Auror Moody and I looking for a boy, Mr Yuack call him Whelp?" she blinked at him, her smile vanished, and her eyes were sober and ... fearful.
"We have not seen the Whelp for about three months now, he went back to school." She licked her lips nervously. "Did something happen to him?"
"We don't know for sure, his wand was found but he was nowhere near. I would like to know his name and talk to his parents, if it could be arranged."
"Tobias is up in his room, but I do not think he will be interested in the Whelp's existence, he would be only too happy if the boy died." She angrily snapped her answer. She looked towards the stairway, before looking back at him. "You need to talk with him; he is the only one with the answers you seek. I hope you will find the Whelp." She said before she turned away.
Moody sighed, he had hoped for something more, his left hand slipped in his pocket and grabbed the Boy's wand.
------------- Memory Scan -------------
The memories whirled around him, He heard the giggling noise and turned toward the tables' area of the pub, and he could see a tumbling infant trying to out-run his temporary baby-sitter, the same woman who was at the counter.
She was younger and somehow more innocent, she smiled, a real smile as she tried to catch a running infant. She was always a step behind the black-eyed boy to catch him if he fell. Moody could feel love and security wash over him.
-----------------
The next memory was from the same duo as the woman tried to pry the Boy out from under the table. The Boy looked around the same age as the memory-child he had encountered in the potions shop. His pale skin was bruised, his lips spilt open and his whole body was trembling.
"Sev, get out of there, before your father sees you down here." The child just shook his head desperately. No, the Boy has a name, no, not a name, only a fragment of a name, but Moody felt it was wrong to call him Boy or Child or Whelp anymore, it felt too inhuman for such an interesting, unique and brilliant boy as Sev.
A/N: The story is playing out in Marauder Era, pre-HP books. HBP does not count.
Chapter 3
Moody made his way toward one of the oldest brothels in Knockturn Alley, the Rouge Noir. It was housed in a 4-story building; it was a shabby place like everything in the alley. Some whores stood at the entrance of the Rouge Noir, there was a big choice between them, there were young ones and old, beautiful and ugly, man and woman. Moody couldn't fathom what growing up in this place could be like, but it couldn't have been easy.
Some of the whores watched him with guarded looks; Moody was well-known in the area, one or two of them he had caught for stealing or prostitution in Diagon Alley or Hogsmeade. He went inside.
On the first floor was a dark, smoke-filled pub with soft enchanted music playing in the background. It was not dark out yet, but almost a dozen customers lingered around the bar, who knew how many more were occupied with a whore on one of the higher floors. Moody went up to the bar where a middle-aged, almost beautiful woman served the drinks. The woman turned to him with a raised eyebrow.
"How can I serve you?" purred the woman, while she smiled at him.
"My name is Auror Moody and I looking for a boy, Mr Yuack call him Whelp?" she blinked at him, her smile vanished, and her eyes were sober and ... fearful.
"We have not seen the Whelp for about three months now, he went back to school." She licked her lips nervously. "Did something happen to him?"
"We don't know for sure, his wand was found but he was nowhere near. I would like to know his name and talk to his parents, if it could be arranged."
"Tobias is up in his room, but I do not think he will be interested in the Whelp's existence, he would be only too happy if the boy died." She angrily snapped her answer. She looked towards the stairway, before looking back at him. "You need to talk with him; he is the only one with the answers you seek. I hope you will find the Whelp." She said before she turned away.
Moody sighed, he had hoped for something more, his left hand slipped in his pocket and grabbed the Boy's wand.
------------- Memory Scan -------------
The memories whirled around him, He heard the giggling noise and turned toward the tables' area of the pub, and he could see a tumbling infant trying to out-run his temporary baby-sitter, the same woman who was at the counter.
She was younger and somehow more innocent, she smiled, a real smile as she tried to catch a running infant. She was always a step behind the black-eyed boy to catch him if he fell. Moody could feel love and security wash over him.
-----------------
The next memory was from the same duo as the woman tried to pry the Boy out from under the table. The Boy looked around the same age as the memory-child he had encountered in the potions shop. His pale skin was bruised, his lips spilt open and his whole body was trembling.
"Sev, get out of there, before your father sees you down here." The child just shook his head desperately. No, the Boy has a name, no, not a name, only a fragment of a name, but Moody felt it was wrong to call him Boy or Child or Whelp anymore, it felt too inhuman for such an interesting, unique and brilliant boy as Sev.
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