Cry Wolf

Part 1: Bad Moon Rising

Helicopter blades laid flat the long grass. Ducking his head as he had been told, Remus jumped out of the cabin and ran to the small group of stunted elms. Behind him, Moody followed as quickly as he could.

'She's been missing for two hours.' The soldier was barely out of his twenties, sensationally young for his rank. He handed a photograph to Remus, who glanced at it in the dwindling light before passing it to his companion.

'How old did you say she was?' Remus asked.

'Six.' The soldier glanced sidelong at Moody and then at Remus. It was not difficult to tell what he was thinking. Moody was scowling at the photograph, his artificial eye spinning wildly in its socket. Occasionally it disappeared completely as it revolved backwards to survey the woods behind him, reappearing to glare at the helicopter. The soldier stared at it, fascinated. Remus took a step to the side and crooked a finger. The soldier followed him, reluctant to take his eyes off Moody.

'He's a little eccentric,' Remus whispered, 'but very good. If anyone can find Emily, he can.'

The soldier swallowed. 'He's some kind of dowser, right? That piece of wood.'

Oak, eleven inches, dragon heartstring, Remus thought. Aloud, he said, 'Some kind of dowser. That's right.'

--

One of the perils of government is that family and friends become public property. Everything is scrutinised by the media and played back to the public with a commentary which varies according to the political affiliations of the commentator.

The Prime Minister was better than most at manipulating the media of his country. He was ably assisted in this by a team of the finest public relations experts Oxford and Cambridge had produced and a Personal Secretary with unusual connections. In an age where infidelity and loss of civil rights are less important than the items one's wife buys on eBay, the Prime Minister and his team had maintained public affection through war, tax increases and the continued decline in educational standards.

So when the first threatening letter arrived, the Prime Minister handed it first to his team of security advisors and next to his public relations experts. A careful leak to the press and the public was once again behind him, one hundred per cent. The second letter met the same fate. And the third.

The fourth letter was different. Kingsley Shacklebolt read it and went straight to Rufus Scrimgeour.

--

'We found the nanny this afternoon. Intelligence are still trying to work out what killed her.'

'How did she look?' Remus prompted gently. The soldier handed him another photograph.

The dead woman was in her mid-thirties, with fair hair. She had been pretty, Remus surmised, before terror had darkened her features. She lay in a crumpled heap on the floor, one leg folded beneath her, one arm flung out seemingly at random. There were no obvious injuries. There didn't need to be. Remus exchanged a glance with Moody and handed the photograph back.

'What about security?'

It had been upped, he knew, after the letter. Death threats to the Prime Minster and his family were routine; they were guarded conspicuously by Muggle bodyguards, less conspicuously by Aurors. The threat to the Home Secretary's youngest daughter had come as a surprise and it had been taken seriously.

The soldier frowned. 'They don't remember anything.'

Beside Remus, Moody gave a tiny nod. 'They wouldn't.' The soldier was too well trained to ask questions, but his eyes widened.

'Right, then. Let's get moving.' Remus jerked his head at the hillside. 'Pick us up in...' He hesitated, looking upwards at the darkening sky.

'Twelve hours is standard, sir,' the soldier offered.

'If we're not here by moonrise, we won't be coming back,' Remus said. 'Make it two.'

--

'He thinks we're psychics,' Remus commented as they walked up the hill.

'Like Trelawney?' Remus nodded. 'God help us.' Moody squinted down at himself. 'Two blokes in dresses with pointy sticks. Is this what psychics look like in the Muggle world?'

'It's what psychics look like in our world, Alastor,' Remus said mildly.

Moody snorted. 'I never thought I'd see the day when I'd be confused with Sybill Trelawney. No wonder he was looking at me as if I'd escaped from St. Mungo's. God knows what he thinks of us.'

'He's a trained soldier, and a good one. He doesn't think anything of us.'

'Nothing?'

'Only what his commanding officer tells him to think.'

'And what does his commanding officer think?'

'Whatever his commanding officer tells him to.'

They crested the first incline and dropped flat, squinting through the dusk at the farmhouse and its outbuildings.

'No sign of any guards,' Remus observed.

'Did you expect there to be?' Moody grunted. 'As far as the Muggles are concerned, it's just a farmhouse. Guards would give the game away.'

A Muggle farmhouse. With a Muggle family. A chill ran down Remus' spine.

'Defences?'

Moody shrugged. 'The usual. Anti-Apparition wards, definitely. No way to tell where they start. We'll probably - Christ.' A long-drawn out howl rose up on the air. Moody recoiled, grabbing for his wand.

'It's just a dog.' An Alsatian chose that moment to wander around the side of a barn. It raised its head and sniffed the night air suspiciously, then howled again and disappeared from view. Remus gave Moody a sly look. 'Jumpy?'

'Just a bit.'

'We'd better get moving. Unless you want to be here when the moon really does rise.'

Moody shot him a wary glance. 'No, thanks.'

Casting Silencing Charms on themselves, they began to edge towards the farmhouse. A hundred yards from the outermost building, Moody halted. Remus did the same.

'Cloak?' Moody mouthed. Remus nodded. Moody fumbled in his pocket and pulled out his Invisibility Cloak. Wrapping it around himself, he began to crawl forwards. Remus waited, wand at the ready, his eyes scanning the darkness.

Moody was fifty yards ahead of him now. Remus could see the clawed foot of his artificial leg sticking out of the Invisibility Cloak, although he knew his partner could not be seen by anyone looking out from the farmhouse. Lights blazed from its windows. Somebody was at home, at any rate.

When Moody was less than thirty yards from the nearest barn, the Alsatian walked round the corner again.

Moody froze. Behind him, Remus brought down his Silencing Charm and waited.

The dog was almost out of sight again when suddenly it paused, threw up its head once more and sniffed the air, growling. It turned in Moody's direction and began to cast around, searching for the unfamiliar scent.

Shit. Remus pointed his wand at the dog and began to mutter. The animal whined deep in its throat and turned away. Remus kept his wand and his eyes fixed on it. The Alsatian was wobbling on its feet now. It stumbled towards a darkened corner of the farmyard and collapsed.

Sweet dreams, Remus thought. He gave a thumbs-up in Moody's direction and saw the artificial leg creep forward again. He lay full-length in the grass, covering Moody's advance.

--

'She's upstairs.'

Moody rose up beside him so abruptly that Remus almost screamed with fright. 'One front door, one back. Probably covered in charms. Two guards inside each door.'

'I didn't think we were planning to use the door.'

The irony was lost on Moody. 'No, that'd be stupid. There's an upstairs window at the back of the house that looks possible.'

Remus nodded. 'How about the yard?'

Moody shook his head. 'No defensive charms anywhere that I can see. Anti-Apparition wards, but nothing else. It's as if they're not expecting visitors.'

Or as if they are. The thought nagged at Remus, but he thrust it aside.

--

The Alsatian was sleeping soundly as they reached the barn and dropped behind a rusting tractor. Remus threw the dog a glance, wondering briefly what it was dreaming about. Moody crouched beside him, ready for his sprint across the yard. Remus grasped his wand and nodded. Moody held up three fingers and they counted silently... three...two...one. Moody raced to the house, coming to rest beneath the window he had indicated. He reached under his robes and pulled out a length of rope, throwing it up into the air with a brief incantation. Remus watched as one end curled around the window latch and Moody gave the other a firm tug. It held. He turned to Remus, the shattered face splitting in a fierce grin, and held up three fingers. A second later, Remus was crouched beside him.

Remus shinned up the rope first, listening carefully before he raised his head above the level of the window ledge. The room was empty and the door closed, so he clambered over the sill, turning back to see if Moody needed a hand with the rope.

As soon as Moody had climbed into the room, Remus turned to him. 'Which way?' he whispered.

In answer, Moody jerked his head to the left, holding up his hand. Wait. Remus waited, watching the door as Moody's eye peered through it. Finally, Moody nodded. Wands out, they inched towards the door. Moody paused again as he reached it, head cocked to listen, before easing the door ajar. The landing was in darkness. From the floor below, the growl of conversation rose up the stairwell.

Step by precious step they stole along the landing until at last Moody came to a halt outside a second door. He listened for a moment, then tapped it soundlessly with his wand before pushing it open. Remus followed him into the tiny bedroom.

The girl on the bed stared at them, too frightened to speak. Remus smiled at her and placed a finger on his lips. Her eyes were fixed on his as he crossed the room. He bent down and scooped her up in his arms, handing her to Moody, who was staring uneasily out of the window. Still smiling down at the child, he ran questing hands across her shoulders through the thin cotton of her dress. Relief flooded his face as he looked up at Moody.

'No sign of a bite,' he said quietly.

'Thank God for that.'

'We should try and find the Muggles,' Remus continued. 'Although they're probably dead.'

A voice behind him said, 'Not yet.' Remus froze. 'But then,' Greyback continued, 'it's so hard to get fresh food round here.'

--

Moody watched the colour drain from Lupin's face as he turned slowly towards the door.

'Drop the wands,' Greyback said, moving into the room. Three others followed him in. Lupin licked his lips, glancing around him as he edged backwards.

'I said drop them,' Greyback repeated. 'Unless you want me to kill the child in front of you.' Two wands fell to the floor. Greyback nodded.

'Hello, Remus. It's been a long time.'

'Fenrir.' Lupin's voice was neutral.

'We're pleased that you could join us. Who's your friend?' Greyback walked over to Moody, circling him slowly. Moody recoiled as the stench of blood and earth hit his nostrils. 'Not one of us.' Greyback was smiling.

'A little old for your tastes, I should have thought,' Lupin said dryly. Almost imperceptibly, he shifted his balance so that he was poised on the balls of his feet, ready to spring. Moody's eyes widened and he adjusted the child in his arms. Lupin's eyes met his, expressionless.

Greyback ran a long, yellowed fingernail down the side of Moody's face. It took all of Moody's willpower not to flinch. He stared at the ground, every nerve in his body tingling with tension.

'Interesting scars,' Greyback murmured. 'What a shame you won't have time to tell me about them.' He let his hand fall and turned away. 'Welcome back to the fold, Remus. We have so much to talk about.'

'We do, indeed. But not now.' Lupin dived forwards, carrying Greyback with him to the ground.

Moody leapt for the window. Glass crashed as he hurtled through it, digging desperately in his robes for his second wand. In his arms, Emily screamed, a thin, high note of terror. He risked a glance behind him as he fell, mumbling a charm to slow their descent. Lupin had vanished beneath a pile of werewolves.

He landed, feather-light, on the flowerbed, staggered under the weight of the child and almost fell. He was up again at once, zig-zagging towards the barn at top speed. Shouts of rage pierced the air behind him and red and green bolts sizzled past his head like angry fireworks. Then he was behind the barn and racing for the fields and the end of the Anti-Apparition wards.

'Hold on, Emily,' he shouted, and vanished.

--

'Get that thing in the air!'

The soldier whirled round, lowering his gun as Moody burst out of the copse, Emily in his arms. 'Sir!' He shouted an order at the crew and the great rotors began to spin. Moody pushed Emily's head down and ducked, running for the cabin. The soldier leapt in behind him, slamming the door. The helicopter rose into the sky.

'You'd better take her.' He handed the child into the soldier's outstretched arms. 'Let her sleep.'

'What happened to Mr. Lupin?' The soldier's eyes searched Moody's face.

Moody hesitated. 'He won't be coming back.'

'Dead?'

'I don't think so. I don't know.' Moody looked away, gazing out of the window of the tiny cabin.

There was a brief silence and then the soldier said tentatively, 'We could put you down again.'

Moody shook his head. 'Don't even think about it. Anyone who goes near that farmhouse tonight is going to end up very dead.'

If they're lucky, a small voice taunted him. He was aware of the soldier watching him with curious eyes, of the light, regular snores of the sleeping child. As the helicopter climbed to safety, he gripped the seat-rest with a shaking hand and stared out of the window at the rising moon.

--