Tyrant Rising

Chapter 1: The Approaching Swarm (Part 4)

10 Minutes Earlier,

Outskirts of Lambstead,

Lancashire

"Well, this isn't insanely creepy." The normally cheery voice of crack Auror, Nymphadora Tonks, was sombre as it rang out across the strangely deserted road leading into Lambstead.

"Stow it." Was the only answer Moody gave, his magical eye completely still as it stared at the deserted village in front of them. "We need to get a message to Dumbledore."

"Never thought I'd see the day Mad-Eye Moody called for help before even getting into the mission." The words were heavily laced with bitterness, turning, Moody was met with the scowl that forever twisted the otherwise handsome face of Sirius Black. Once a cheerful, roguish young man, Black had emerged from over a decade in Azkaban to find his Godson dead and himself still mistrusted by the majority of the Wizarding World. It was no wonder he was bitter.

But, that didn't mean Moody could tolerate it on a mission.

He indicated the village with a jerk of his grizzled head, "What do you see, Black?"

"It's a village, an empty one." Black was at least professional enough to keep his anger out of his voice when directly addressed by a superior officer.

"Well, you want to know what I see when I look at it with this?" Moody jabbed his finger toward his magical eye, which had begun spinning agitatedly, checking every direction again and again.

"Don't tell us there're mounds of corpses in the houses or something, Mad-Eye." Tonks' words were only half-joking.

"Nothing," Moody growled. "Not nothing out of the ordinary. Nothing. Just a shadow where the village should be. No trace of magic. Just darkness."

"So it has to be powerful dark magic." Wilkes this time, the man was magically powerful and excellent in a fight, but his arrogance usually prevented him from seeing anything beyond his initial conclusion.

"Weren't you listening, Wilkes? If you weren't more muscle than brain between those tiny ears of yours, you'd have heard Moody say there aren't any traces of magic. Dark magic, especially powerful dark magic, leaves traces that are almost impossible to erase. It'd take years to hide anything as big as cloaking an entire village." Weasley's tone was professional, but she was clearly anything but fond of the younger man.

"Very good, Weasley." Moody had to admit he didn't particularly like Wilkes either. Realising that none of the others had sent a message to Dumbledore yet, Moody sighed before raising his wand and firing off a patronus toward the Ministry. It would take at least 20 minutes for it to reach the Ministry, and perhaps another 2 to find Dumbledore given the number of protections around the Minister's Office, but it was by far the fastest method of sending a message. Bar sending one of his aurors, of course, but Moody didn't want to be a man down before they even entered the strange magical dead zone in front of them.

"Black, get your furry friend out here. I want to know if you can smell anything our eyes are missing." Black nodded sharply, his anger abandoned in favour of professional efficiency, something Moody admired about the man. Moody watched, his magical eye fixed on Black, as the man's body shifted and shrunk, transforming into an enormous, bear-like dog, as black as his family's reputation. He was always fascinated watching the magic of the animagus transformation, similar to -yet entirely distinct from- that of normal transfiguration.

"That always freaks me out." Boot muttered to Wilkes, shuddering slightly as Black began to sniff the air, occasionally putting his nose down to follow a scent on the ground for a few moments.