Disclaimer: none of the characters are mine, but belong to their respective owners.
Note: other stories in this series should be read for this drabble to be understood better.
“Remind me, what’re we doing here?” Draco crossly asked Genevieve, as the Vampire Slayer and wizard walked alongside Fang through the Forbidden forest. “I haven’t been here since I graduated, and I certainly don’t miss it! I’m not a woodlands person, I’m not!”
“Draco, quit complaining,” Genevieve said crossly. “After that Greengrass incident your headmistress and Faith felt that we owe a debt to your society, so here we are, walking like a pair of idiots after Hagrid’s big dog looking for something that’s been spooking the centaurs recently.”
“Maybe it’s Umbridge. She could’ve come back for a visit,” Draco said hopefully. “Then all we’ll have to do is to report her to the aurors and be done with it!”
“You wish!” Genevieve said dryly, as Fang abruptly stopped and whined, looking very upset all of a sudden – and ‘upset’ was an understatement. “Hey, dog, what’s wrong?”
It was then that the Viking emerged from the bushes. Well, he had been a Viking in life: as his chainmail and helm, sword and shield, though still covered with earth, could testify. The face that was visible beneath the helm, however, was blue from death, and the mouth was full of definite jagged fangs. “Oh, that is what’s wrong,” Genevieve nodded wisely wrinkling her nose from the smell of dirt and rot. “A vampire.”
“I think it’s a ghoul instead. Maybe even a ghast judging by the scent,” Draco suggested helpfully.
“I don’t think light’s going to work,” Draco explained. “See? Lumos!”
The beam of light did indeed have no effect on the undead creature, but only because the latter blocked it with his shield, before charging at the pair.
Draco leaped to the side, while Genevieve instinctively thrust with her rapier.
The Viking’s own sword came crushing down, deflecting the blow, even as his shield was thrust forwards in a bludgeoning blow. He was unimpressed by Genevieve’s dagger, which stabbed – right through the shield (apparently after centuries of burial it was not as good as before) and cleanly into the undead flesh behind it.
The Viking snarled, revealing a tongue that was much too long for a human being and began to force Genevieve’s rapier away from the Slayer in order to launch a stabbing attack of his own.
“Hey, did you forget about me?” Draco asked in an insulting tone. Apparently the Viking did, but a face full of holy water clearly reminded him instead: the undead fighter screamed, but his concentration wavered a bit too – just enough for Genevieve to slide her rapier under his guard and to decapitate him in one or two quick thrusting blows. The undead flesh was tough, but Genevieve was a Vampire Slayer, and at this particular moment she used her strength, rather than weapon finesse, to finish her opponent.
“Very nice,” Draco commented, as he poured some more holy water on the now-deteriorating remains of the undead warrior.
“No, not nice,” Genevieve shook her head and turned to face her boyfriend. “I think I’ve read about this sort of thing in one of Giles’ books: this was a swordwraith, and they were supposed to become extinct after the Goblin wars were over.”
“Couldn’t this one just been the one overlooked?” Draco suggested helpfully.
“No,” Genevieve shook her head. “But thanks for the effort. We still need to talk to Giles – and to show him this!”
She picked-up the now-gone Viking’s sword and the pair left the Forbidden forest.