The First Signs of a Storm - Prisoner of Azkaban - Book 1

Chapter 27: An Angel, fallen into Darkness

No One's Point of View

It is said that bad things happen in threes, although many would argue the number was far greater. Bad things were always happening. But for few, one Saturday in late November seemed to bring with it the most explosive eruption, fiery tempers hitting boiling point and unspoken words being spewed with malicious thought.
That is to say, one person was not bombarded with countless events, but nature had a way of connecting people - their lives crossing if only for a moment - as if, fate itself was woven into the world like a golden thread.

On the morning of the 27th, a wizard arose from his over-lavish silk bedsheets, glancing at the pillow beside his head to look upon his still-sleeping fiancé, whose dark hair was fanned around her face, her full lips parted as she breathed louder than when she were awake. And Hunter Ryan could not peel his eyes away from her - wanting to see her deep brown orbs when her eyelids fluttered open.
But the roar from outside his newly-built cabin, pulled his attentions for a moment before he lifted his finger to caress his love's cheek.
"Am I to wake up like this every day?" Came her soft, sleepy voice, her thick accent native of Romania sending a shockwave through his heart.
     "Hmm." He hummed lightly, leaning down to kiss her on the forehead, planting his lips against her smooth skin. "You'll 'ave ta give me a few poin'ers babe. But I 'ave a few ideas." He trailed his tongue down the crevice of her throat and the sound she made was enough to make him have her again, this morning.
     Elena Vasile giggled, wrapping her bare legs around him, pulling him flush against her in an attempt to merge into one person.
     "Don't tempt me, Mister Ryan, or I won't let you leave." Elena snaked her arms around his neck, shivering as his hands traced the inside of her thighs.
     "Is that a promise, Miss Vasile-"

     Knock. Knock. Knock.
     "Yeah?!" Called Hunter, looking towards the door, kissing Elena's abdomen as he slipped out of bed, pulling on his boxer shorts.
     "We've got some visitors." Came a reply from a deep voiced wizard.
     Hunter snapped into action, dressing rapidly, throwing a jumper over his bare torso, rushing to the kitchen/living room, throwing open the door.
     "Poachers?" Hunter asked worried, looking to his number one wizard. His 'Head Keeper' for want of a better term.
     Charlie Weasley stood before him, red hair and freckles dotted around his face, an odd expression on his youthful face.
     "No." He frowned, stepping aside to let his boss past. "They didn't say who they were. But they asked for you by name. Jace is doing a sweep and Vlad is with them." The 20-something wizard lead the way, being taken in the direction of the woods, the trees tall and perfect for sheltering a ferocious dragon. And the best place at the Sanctuary for a duel.

     Up ahead they came to a clearing, where three of Hunter's men were stood with their wand outs, pointing at five individuals, standing in a line wearing cloaks of the deepest, ruby red, the hoods masking their faces.
     At the sound of others approaching, the five mysterious arrivals lifted their heads in unison, making the three Keepers take a step back, their hands tighter around their wands at the strange behaviour.
     "There is no need for the caution, Hunter - Protector of Dragons." Said the one stood in the centre, whose dark skin looked as if it were glowing, like embers in a fire as it comes to an end.
     Hunter approached, Charlie at his side - a wizard he trusted with his life - their fingers near their wands'.
     "Then tell me what ya want." Was the causal, yet calculated retort from the man in charge. "Who are ya?"
     The central figure (whoever it was) appeared to be the director of the company, because they turned their head an inch and the five of them began to remove their hoods, Hunter taking the opportunity to check over his troops. They were all as stunned as he was.
     Hunter's stomach dropped in nausea when five heads of the longest white hair he had ever seen draped down, almost touching the floor, with streaks of the most vibrant crimson. And their eyes - all of them had flames behind their eyes, a mix of orange and red, that looked like fury in it's purest form.
Hunter had never seen anything like it.