A Powerful Little Love

Chapter 42

"The world isn't split into good people and Death Eaters."

Sirius Black, Harry potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban.

The pelting October rain bore down in sheets, covering the city streets of Paris in a glistening extension of the Seine. People darted here and there on short journeys to fetch their necessary supplies and rushed home again, eager to be out of the torrent of cool rain. Despite her traveling cloak and hat, Amorette was soaked through to the skin; and not out of willingness. She tugged on Baxter's reins desperately as droplets of rain rolled down her face and into the hollow between her breasts. The horse had been behaving oddly for a week or two, and Amorette was coming to the conclusion that the horse would soon no longer be rideable. She had ventured out on errands earlier in the morning before the rain had begun, and had envisioned visiting Marie before she returned to the Louvre. Now though, it appeared that she would be going nowhere fast.

Baxter had taken the notion to come to a standstill in the Latin Quarter of the city and it was all Amorette could do not to scream at him to move onwards. The option of leaving her horse seemed futile to Amorette as she would only force upon herself the walk across the river in the rain, but she quickly supposed that she was getting just as wet here fighting with Baxter's reins. She tugged again but her horse wasn't for moving and Amorette wondered just what it was that had spooked her horse in such a way. The deserted street brought no help to her, and Amorette wondered if she could make for the garrison a few streets away and return with help. Knowing her luck though, Baxter would take her short absence as his excuse to finally move. Pulling on the reins was becoming futile as the earth beneath her boots was quickly growing to resemble a thick muddy concoction.

Baxter kicked up his hooves suddenly and despite the splatter of mud that landed on her dress and face, Amorette felt relief that he was finally making movement. That died quickly though as she realised he really didn't have any intention of moving. Perhaps her horse thought mud splatter would drive her to leave him alone. Movement at the end of the street caught her eye. Two figures walked against the rain, bound in leather cloaks and hoods. Amorette called out to them, hoping they would hear her over the sound of the downpour. The taller of the two turned sharply to glance at her. Amorette strained her eyes to see the figure through the rain, noting that a familiar chin jutted out of the shadow of the hood. For a second they looked towards each other before the figures carried on walking with a little more haste than before. Amorette stamped her foot in indignation and was about to let out a growl of annoyance when the other figure, now being pulled along by the first turned to glance at her.

Despite the grey ambiance the rain had created, Amorette was clearly able to discern the strawberry blonde tendrils of hair that fell loose of the hood. "Marie?" Amorette cried as the reins slipped from her hands and she took a few steps away from Baxter towards the figures. Both turned to glare at her again before they broke into a run. An icy cold dread began to form in Amorette's stomach that had nothing to do with the rain.

"Cometess?"

Amorette whipped around to greet the voice that had echoed behind her and found Aramis gently stroking her horse's mane. Baxter was responding to his touch, seeming to appreciate the careful gesture and Amorette spared the horse a sharp thought of anger before her mind drifted back to the two figures who had run from her.

"Is he still giving you trouble?" came another voice as Athos emerged from the other side of Baxter.

Amorette nodded, not trusting herself to speak lest her teeth might chatter.

"How could this graceful creature cause any trouble eh?" Aramis asked, more to the horse than anyone else. Gently he took the reins and tugged lightly and Baxter began to follow.