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Memories of a wand	By : sybersnake Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male Views: 2509 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Title: Memories of a wand /A wand�s memories

Beta: kin2cats

A/N: The story is playing out in Marauder Era, pre-HP books. HBP does
not count.

Chapter 1

Alastor �Mad-Eye� Moody was one of the fairest Aurors, he was told
to be as cruel to his enemies as they were to their victims. When they talked
about him, everyone lowered their voices, because they were afraid he would
hear them.� The gossips said his enemies
only dared to whisper his name. There was much more gossip and legend around
about Moody, but in spite of everything, they told the same: Mad-Eye Moody was an
honourable man, a fierce warrior, a fight-hardened soldier, and a strong
supporter of the light.

But this latest mission turned even
Moody�s stomach as he surveyed the den, it could not be called house or
a room, even if at one time, it was. It was Grayback�s den, who was a
bloodthirsty werewolf, a monster who loved to inflict pain and death. Dirt and
rags were everywhere, it smelled of a mixture of blood, urine, despair and
death, this very smell and implication of the picture it drew, were what made
the Aurors to loose their lunch and turned even Moody�s stomach.

The old Auror closely examined
everything; he wanted to find the murdering bastard once and for all. They were
so close to cornering Grayback, but the wolf ran, well, apparated, when he saw
them closing in on his lair. The Aurors needed to find the bastard before he
could attack a new family, but their time was running out faster every hour,
the full moon was only two weeks away.

After hours of searching, they were no
closer to Grayback�s new hideout than before, when the impossible happened, and
Moody saw a wand lying innocently under a torn blanket, which was covered in
blood. The wand was ebony black, and glittered in the soft candle-light. Moody�s
magical eye examined it for spells and curses, and finding nothing on it, he
lifted the wand up carefully from the floor to be able to examine it closer.

Whoever owned this wand had taken
good care of it, Moody could almost feel the magical residue, the memories of
the wand. It was not common knowledge, but wands were able to contain memories
of a person, usually the owner�s memories were connected to strong emotions, such
as love, hate and happiness. The wand could store these memories like a pensive.
The owner of this one would not have left behind his wand on his or her own,
Moody was sure of it, but to know what happened exactly, he needed to invoke
the memories of the wand.

�Virga Memorias!�

As he closed his hand around the
wand and closed his eyes, voices and pictures assaulted him, they whirled
around him, and then the memories slowed down and fell into place as he opened
his eyes, he was there, but not, he became one with the memory as it played out
before him.

--------- Memory Scan -----------

Moody became the owner of the wand,
it sometimes happened if the memory�s attached emotions were too strong, and
this time they were almost overwhelming for the Auror.� He could feel panic, despair and pain assaulted
his mind and he used his Occlumency skill to be able to concentrate on anything
else in the memory. The body was pressed as close to the cold wall as he could,
his right hand was held out before him; his wand was grasped in his hand. The
hand looked terribly young, dirty and starved.�
Moody could feel the pain radiating out from the left arm.� It was broken, and the bone poked up through
the skin, he could feel the blood running down his forearm. Moody was deeply
disturbed; the boy, in his mind he was sure it was a young boy whose memory he
lived again, was clearly able to identify his injury.

Then Moody saw as a werewolf got to
its feet with a snarl.� It moved towards
its trembling victim. Moody heard a faint whimper and muttering from the boy,
as he listened closer he could make out what the young lad had muttered in his
last moments, but what he heard surprised him.

�Not again, please not again.� It
was like the child�s mantra against the beast that closed on him with every
step. This new information disturbed him again, the boy had clearly faced a
werewolf some time ago, and lived to tell the tale without being bitten, but he
could not remember such an encounter happening in the last 20 years or so.

He was prepared to pull away from
the memory; Moody did not want to witness this child�s death, when a new
sensation washed over him: determination to live, to escape, to fight even if
it resulted in his death. A surge of magic swarmed over the battered, starved
young body, as he gathered his strength to lash out one more time.

�Argentum Munimentum Protego!� the young voice was determined and
strong, the voice just starting to crack, the Boy would then be a young teen,
13 or� 14 years old. But these details were
just an incidental significance, besides the unknown spell, he had never heard
of this type of the shield charm before, but it worked. Silver erupted from the
Boy�s wand and a silver shield appeared around the Boy. The werewolf ran into
the shield, then backed away as he was burned, whimpering and snarling at the
Boy, who was� wearing a smug smile,
because it had worked, HIS spell� had
worked!

But the relief was short-lived, the Boy�s energy faded fast, he
could not feed the shield any more magic, the shield started to crumble, and on
the other side, an angry werewolf waited on his prey. The boy gulped, the
situation was not good; he needed to get out of there, but how?

The only exit was blocked by an angry, blood-thirsty werewolf, and
he could not apparate away, that left a port-key.� He knew the procedure and the spell, but he had never done it
before, he could end up who-knew-where, but the alternative, staying here, made
anywhere else better.

He concentrated on the wooden cup on the table, and whispered
�Portus� but the moment he said the spell, his shield failed, and the werewolf
attacked.� It scared him, and as he
moved in a rush to grab the cup, his injured arm met the table�s wooden
surface, the pain ran through him and his wand fell out of his limp fingers. He
did not have time to pick up his wand; the beast was only a few feet away from
him, and closing on him fast. He gave a last sad thought to his beloved wand,
before he reached out and touched the cup.

It was one of the last thoughts Moody was able to get before the
memory faded away, leaving him in Grayback�s den, with a smug, almost prudish
smile on the boy�s face, because the Boy, whoever he was, had done it: escaped
and lived to tell the tale, and Moody swore he would find the Boy and give him
back his wand.�

--------------------------------------

Virga Memorias (Latin) = Wand Memory

Argentum Munimentum (Latin) = Silver Protection
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Memories of a wand

Chapter 1