Shadow Showdown

The sun had stained the rims of the clouds a golden-yellow color; making the sky behind each player on his or her broomstick a dazzling canvas of color. The rising sun shined down on them; drenching them with its warm light.

Larry Lupin looked around the field at his friends on the Ravenclaw Quidditch team. The 2nd year looked nervous, as if he thought he could do nothing but fail. The looks on the Slytherin teammates' faces weren't helping either. But this practice was no more a practice than Harry Potter was a vampire. In fact, the practice was a shield: concealment for something much bigger.

Larry took a deep breath and considered his fellow Chasers on either side. Each of them showed their confidence with a slight nod and an awkward smile.

"Okay Larry..." He said to himself.

"This is it."

Suddenly a bright light erupted around him; many of his teammates almost fell of their brooms with shock. Smoke filtered the air. The Slytherins smirked as they landed on the ground and ran for the locker rooms. Something was wrong. The students that were green-robed were too smug...

"So they planned this!" Lupin coughed, for no one to hear. The black smoke itself wound its way into his lungs and he hacked harder. Davies was shouting something that he couldn't hear... ... the Ravenclaws were falling from their brooms. His broom drooped and he slipped upside down. Larry was falling, falling.... His hands were gripped on the handle of his broomstick. The second year was powerless to stop it, couldn't make his hands obey him.

His world went black....

***************

Hours later the second year boy awoke to a tremendous pounding in his head.

"What-?"

He tried to sit up, but his body wouldn't move. Where was he? The Ravenclaw appeared to be in a shadowy stadium of some sort. Near him his broomstick, a now dusted Nimbus 2000, lay not far from his outstretched hands.

"Welcome!" a hissing voice echoed from somewhere around him. A cold feeling sunk past his stomach and down along his spine. That voice could only be... Lord Voldemort.

"Welcome!" the voice said again.

"Larry Lupin, I never thought I would see the spawn of a Werewolf. Today is your day of good fortune!"

Somehow the boy doubted it, but he was too afraid to say so.

"You will enter my army of Elite as the first Werewolf in my army!" a malicious cackle shattered the air thick with tension.

"But first, a little entertainment,"

Larry didn't like the sound of that. With a rushing sound the broomstick flew into his hand and he was able to stammer to his feet.

"What do I have to do?"

No answer. Suddenly a host of cloaked and masked assassins flew in on their own broomsticks. The men were heavily armed with broad, curved blades and their wands. Lupin shivered in fear. The Death Eaters hovered above him making a circle above where he stood. He could only go forward or up, and neither of those looked very promising at the moment.

"Survive..."