Save The Date (A Drarry FanFiction)

Chapter Twenty Eight

   He inhaled and gave a decisive nod, focusing on his goal with grim determination. "Well, we know more than we did before," he said firmly. "What do you think? Is it worth searching the higher level first, or going down to the third to come back up to another second?" He felt like he was starting to get the hang of this place now, even if it did all sound rather bizarre to say it out loud. "There are only three levels, right?" But even as he said it, something niggled in his faux-Halloween memories, and he didn't miss the way Bones and Tommy swapped apprehensive glances. "Right?" he said a little more forcefully.

Tommy and Bones regarded each other as Brandon drained another tankard. "Well-" Bones began.

The door to the pub crashed open. "Tommy!" cried a boy around Draco's age. His eyes were wide with panic as he quickly sought out the barkeep.

"Martin?" Tommy said, coming around the Draco's side of the bar. The boy Martin was still holding the door open, and Draco blinked. Surely it had been much sunnier when they had come in only a few minutes ago? "What is it lad?"

Martin shook his head and pointed outside. "Not sure. The Guard is out already, but, well, I thought..."

Tommy allowed himself to be lead out into the street without further explanation. A chill ran over Draco's skin and he thought it best to see what was going on as well, so he wordlessly lifted Bones down from his perch, and the two of them joined several other curious drinkers in wandering out of the pub.

A mist had descended from the hill, bringing an unnatural gloom to the day, and a few dozen other people were also coming out into the street to inspect the disturbance. From the left of where Draco was standing, the direction of the Cliffside, a line of men and women were streaming out of the only building not concerned primarily with serving alcohol – the police station. Although they didn't look like any police or Aurors Draco had ever seen.

The men were dressed in black trousers with emerald green silk shirts tucked in at the waist, one too many buttons undone at the collar. The women wore short dresses in a matching shade of green, cut off the shoulder with long sleeves, black tights and heeled ankle boots that tapped against the cobblestones as they marched purposefully towards the mist that was slowly but surely rolling down the road.

Through the fog ran the two dance instructors and their hoard of children, as well as a throng of leprechauns intermixed with all kinds of woodland creatures, including the elusive snakes, although no one seemed interested in catching them at present, everyone was too concerned with outrunning the phenomenon.

The temperature had dropped, and Draco rubbed his arms. "What's going on?" he asked.

The people in black and green from the police station began lining themselves up across the width of the street, alternating men and women one after the other. As they took their positions they all linked hands facing forwards, and once a row was completed the dozen or so of them would move in unison, crossing their legs at their ankles, causing sparks to fly from their shoes.

"Oh holy hell," breathed Tommy as another line completed. "The Guard's out, there must be real trouble."

The cold feeling that had washed over Draco's skin seemed to intensify. "I think I might be able to guess what it is," he said through dry lips.

As if summoned by his words, the edge of the mist several feet from where they were standing shifted, and through the swirling smoke emerged an all too familiar sight.

The first line of the Guard was met by almost as many gruesome walking skeletons, now all brandishing an array of wicked looking blades. Draco gasped as the Guard didn't hesitate; still holding hands, their feet moved in a flurry of kicks and stamps, casting showers of sparks as golden light rose between them and the skeletons in a protective wall, stopping them from advancing any further.

That was all Draco got to see, as at that moment Tommy grabbed him by the scuff of his neck, and with Bones at their feet hauled him back inside the pub and slammed the door.

Several patrons were still sat at their tables, peering curiously towards the windows, but not pushed so far as to leave their drinks. Brandon had scrambled up onto the bar itself, and was now happily sitting under the tap of ale, gulping it directly down in noisy slurps.

Tommy was a big man, but not so large Draco felt overtly intimidated by him. However, as he loomed over him by the closed door, his shoulders several inches wider than Draco's own, he seemed quite menacing indeed. "What the bejeezus?" he demanded, thrusting a meaty finger towards the closed door. "That's Mayor Abattoir's private squadron, the HS bloody P! Just what have you gotten yourself into boy?"

"How do you know they're here for him?" Bones asked, but Tommy was having none of it.

"Because I wasn't born yesterday, you idjit!" He scowled and advanced on Draco, making him take a step back. Outside there were shouts and the crackle of lightning and a host of other unidentifiable sounds tearing through the air. "What trouble have you brought down upon us?"