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Author: hewithnoname Story: Stalking Rating: Everyone Setting: Pre-DH Status: Completed Reviews: 14 Words: 2,677 It was a bright sunny day; the mist still hanging around the ground had an almost earthly taste, and effectively hid all those that wished to evade capture. Four figures crept along, silently stalking their prey. The only sound present was the gentle movement of the reeds swaying in the wind, and the squelch of mud under the group’s feet. This tight-knit group were on the hunt for a treasure so valuable and rare, its price was beyond measure. So effective in communication, words were not needed; hand movements spoke volumes; looks worth a thousand words. A croak in the distance alerted them to the mission at hand. All four looked around in the direction and slightly moved towards the sound. The sounds were getting nearer; one of the group could almost feel his heart bursting from his chest. A sound to his left was all that was needed, he pinpointed his prey and pounced. “Hey, I got one! He’s a beauty.” “How do you know it’s a boy then?” the female of the group asked. “’Cause it’s more colourful then the rest.” “Oh, can I hold it?” The youngest spoke up; being the smallest, he had an almost insane need to prove himself to be brave and was mostly foolish and reckless in his attempts. The oldest spoke in a commanding tone. “Let me see, Number two.” Only on important missions such as this did they speak to each other in this manner. Always in numerical order, age counted for everything. “Yes, Number two, he’s a beauty; keep him safe, ok?” Number one spoke out with pride and a smile. Number four shouted out, “Why does Number two always get the things first? I never get one.” Number four scowled “You need to look better and stop being so noisy,” Number three spoke gently. Being the only female in this group, she had slightly more insight; more so than Number one, who in age seemed almost ancient to the rest of the group. Number one had earned his rank, though. Not only with age, but with that bit of bother he had got into when he was younger; which he still didn’t want to talk about. Numbers two, three and four also knew that the real Number one was back at Base Camp dealing with Number five, who had to spend time out with Real Number one, for blatant disregard of the chain of command. The real reason was a bit vague; rumour had it that it involved a jar of biscuits and jam on the floor. Numbers two, three and four knew the real reason, but were sworn to secrecy. It was easier to blame Number five, as he was having trouble with speech at the moment, thus unable to form a reliable alibi. Number two gently placed his treasure into his pocket and aligned himself within the group. Number one stood towering over the group. “Already, let’s go.” All four set off again, silently they all moved. The mist was starting to rise, giving away their only ally in this hunt. “Damn, looks like our cover blown. We shall have to more careful, let’s get going.” After a while the group stopped as an unearthly, inhumane sound ripped apart the silence. All four looked at each other. “What was that?” Number one asked. “I think it was Number four’s bottom,” Number two spoke up, trying to suppress his giggles. Number one looked at Number four, who was inspecting a bunch of flowers, unable to look at the group for fear of retribution. Number one then looked at Number three, who, being directly behind Number four, was wafting her hands in front of her nose. A chorus of giggling broke out at the sight, the mission forgotten for the moment. Number one was doubled over, unable to continue; the only one not remotely amused was Number three, who had got full affect of said rumble. “Oh, sweet Merlin, lets get going, shall we? Oh and, Number four, no more, you’re going to give away our position.” Number one smiled and walked off to re-form the line. Another sound filled the air as they stalked past a swarm of crickets. Number one raised his fist and crouched down. The entire group sank down and gathered their bearings, Number three saw a slight movement out of the corner of her eye, and she reached out her arm. In the space of a couple of minutes, she was cradling her prize. “She’s a big one, Number three. Well done.” “Thank you, Number one.” “I want to see it.” Number four was once again cursing his lack of height. “Here; be careful, you’ll startle the poor thing,” Number three spoke calmly. Number four reached out and stroked the pray. “I want one,” Number four shouted out. Number one felt sorry for Number four. He decided to make his most important decision to date. “Ok, Number four. I’m going out on a limb here; I think it’s time you went point.” “Really, you mean it?” “Yes, I think you have earned the right.” Number four’s chest heaved with pride. He was going to be the best hunter in the group; he had waited all his life for this opportunity, to lead this group. No matter what it took, he was going to get his treasure, his prey, or die trying. Truth be told, Number four was ideally positioned for this task; his small frame could get into places the others dreamed about. Well, Number three could get into them as well, but she’s a girl and not prepared to go to that extra length, Number four unfairly thought. In truth, Number three was prepared, but tended to think beyond the mundane, and to think and plan her attack to perfection. She was akin to the Real Number one, ‘Brains over brawn always.’ This fact always worried Number one, who always said they were, ‘Very much the same person.’ Hence the sometime lively discussions at the dinner table, both Real Number one and Number three tried to out-think each other, and to get their point over. Number’s one, two and four would flee to a more quiet location and batten down the hatches. Number five had to stay and watch, often seen clapping and giggling, but never moving, often to the fact that he was always in restraints. He was a danger to himself and others, the first into trouble; he literally didn’t know the meaning of the words, ‘No’ or ‘Down’; even ‘BANG’ had no affect and other such horrors, so he was banned from such reckless missions. Number four held up his hand to signal the group to hold still, he turned around and motioned for all to form a circle. Number one’s decision was paying off; Number four had apparently done his homework and learnt all the hand signals and gestures. He was doing a splendid job of drawing a map in the mud with his hands. He had all their positions down and possible positions of prey. Giving silent orders and strategies, he was really in his element; his mentor, Number one’s best-ever friend would be so proud. He would have received top marks, except for his slight faux pas of wiping his hands on his top, and the second rumble down below. Number one giggled and looked away. Number three once again behind, Number four started choking. Number two managed to spit out before doubling over, “Number four’s done a Number three.” Number four had the grace to look ashamed, until Number one spoke out. “No more beans for you, Number four.” “Yes, Number one, no more beans.” Number four looked down to the floor. Number one chuckled to himself and motioned for the hunt to continue. They all carried on in silence for what seemed an age, but was in fact only thirty minutes, which for this group was an all-time record, their group normally being a raucous bunch full of laughter and mirth. Number four stopped and crouched down, the others following his lead, his body ready to pounce, waiting for the slightest sound. He saw movement to his left and dove through the reeds. A croak and a splash alerted the others to pursue. Number four was sprawled in the mud. “He got away; quick -- there he goes, after him.” “Blimey, Number four, he’s huge!” Number two shouted out. “I got dibs on him, he’s mine,” Number four shouted out the only unwritten rule: ‘When you got dibs, you got dibs.’ Number two jumped to the side and landed flat on his face, mud going everywhere. “I missed him, Number three, you get him.” Number three had other ideas to get her prey. To catch this one would finally put the theory to bed that girls were the weaker sex. Number three tried to creep up on the poor creature. Number four had other ideas, though. He dove for it, flying through Number three’s legs, sending Number three flying into the mud. Number one was no help what so ever, as he was laughing so hard, he was having trouble standing up. The prey decided on a new tactic; clearly thinking the best defence is a good attack, jumped at Number one. This unforeseen display caught Number one out of the way. Who in turn didn’t see Number four dive over to catch the prey in mid-flight. “He’s huge, almost bigger than my head.” Number one finally regained his composure. “Well, Number four, I’d tell you to put him in your pocket, but they're not big enough.” “Can’t you expand them? Please.” “No, Number four, a specimen that size, well, he deserves respect, you shall have to carry him.” “Yes, Number one.” Number four looked up and smiled. “Shall we go back to Base Camp now?” Number one smiled. “Yes, it should be about dinner time, there shall be no need for stealth. Let us go. All four made their way back, through the bush of a thousand thorns, over the Bog of eternal stench. Base Camp was in sight, with a welcoming smell of freshly baked biscuits and bread. Two figures were talking at the entrance; these happened to be the Real Number one, and the supreme Commander in Chief. She even out ranked the Real Number one. Number five was watching the gnomes running around the garden and chuckling. The Supreme Commander was the first to see the rag-tail bunch, returning after their successful mission. She motioned to the Real Number one, who promptly dropped her washing and screamed, “HARRY JAMES POTTER! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO OUR CHILDREN?” Number four decided to stand up for his father. “We’ve been hunting, Mum, and we got a bit dirty.” Ginny turned to her son. “You, Jamie, can button it; I’m talking to your father.” She turned to Harry. “You’re covered in mud and muck.” “Honestly, Mum, it’s only a bit mud.” Ginny then turned her attention to her only daughter. “Only a bit of mud. Look at you all, and don’t roll your eyes at me, young lady.” Lizzy continued to sigh and look defiant. Ginny turned to her oldest. “Well, what happened?” “We went hunting and got a tad mucky; honestly, Mum, it looks worse than it is.” “'A tad mucky'? You’re the colour of your hair! How on earth...” Danny tried to give her the look; he’d almost got it down, just like his father. “Don’t you look at me like that, young man, what were you hunting?” Jamie stepped forward. “These, Mum; aren’t they beautiful?” Ginny shrieked. “Jamie, it’s bigger than your head.” “I know, and I got it all by myself.” His pride at catching such a magnificent beast was shining through. Ginny turned to the only person she thought she could back her up. “Mum, you tell them.” Molly was trying to keep a straight face, unfortunately not the response Ginny needed. Number five started to show his appreciation by squealing and clapping. He also thought he’d mark the occasion by blowing the biggest raspberry he could manage. Until one of the smaller beasties jumped out and landed on his head. This puzzled Number five, until he looked up. He then clapped even louder and grabbed the small creature, looked at it, frowned, and then popped it into his mouth. “No, Sirius!” Both Ginny and Molly ran over to young Sirius. Ginny was really regretting naming him, as he was trying to live up to his name sake. Once the poor wretched creature was saved, Sirius’s face screwed up “Blah! Og Og, no Og.” “No, Sirius, Og not nice is it?” Lizzy picked up Sirius up and spun him around, Sirius was clapping and giggling. “Can we keep them, Mum? Please.” “But where are we going to keep them? I don’t think we’ve a tank big enough.” “Granddad can make us one. Where is he Nanny?” Molly rolled her eyes. “In the back, trying to start the barbecue.” Molly shook her head. “I’ll go and help him,” Harry spoke up, and started to walk away. “Oh no you don’t, Potter, get back here. You shall go and wash the children.” “Yes, dear.” Harry smiled and then looked at the kids, shrugged his shoulders, raised his wand and then sent a jet of water at all three who promptly ran off screaming and laughing. All three children looked at each other; this needed sacrifice to help the cause. Both boys ran at Harry and pulled him down whilst Lizzy ran for the hose; by the time she had it and turned it on, all were thoroughly soaked. Sirius sat there, clapping and laughing, and also making the most excellent mud pies. This was until he saw a nice big, fat, juicy worm. “Orm, nice.” Harry seeing this shouted, “No, Sirius put it down.” Alas it was too late; Sirius had it in his mouth, and once again he made such a face.“Blah! No Orm, no nice.” Sirius spat out the worm, and carried on with his pies. It was at this point that Ginny nearly fainted; Molly was chuckling to herself. “Well, at least they're clean now.” Ginny turned to her mother. “I need a drink.” Ginny placed the back of her hand to her head as Harry got to his feet. “Hello, Mum.” He hugged her tightly and gave what could only be described as a very wet kiss on the cheek. Arthur walked around at this point, and was mobbed by his grandchildren. “Hello all, where have you been?” “We’ve been Frogging, Granddad, and look.” Jamie picked up his frog and showed Arthur. “Can you make us a tank?” Arthur was at first astounded by the sheer size of the beast. “Certainly, Jamie; it will have to be a big one. Let’s go, shall we?” “Oh no, Dad, these children need to go and get cleaned up.” Ginny looked at her mother for support. “Yeah, you lot get up and get cleaned up.” Harry smiled to his children. “I was including you as well, Potter, go on -- get going, and take Sirius with you as well.” Ginny smiled at her husband. “Yes, dear.” He walked up to her and kissed her soundly, before picking up Sirius and tossing him into the air, much to Sirius’s delight. “Honestly, he’s worse than the children, sometimes.” Ginny smiled at her mother. “Oh pish, you’d be with them, if Sirius was older, and you in your condition as well.” Both ladies laughed. “You're right there. Mum; let's go and eat. I’m so hungry, I could eat a frog.” All three beasties looked at each other and gulped. Author’s Note: This is taken from a very memorable afternoon spent when I was a young lad. I just played around with it to give Harry and Ginny a good ending. I hope you all like it. Thanks to The Killer Pie for Betaing this. And sticking with me. See, all the hard work is sort of paying off LOL. |