Blurred Lines Mods (blurred_mods) wrote in blurred_lines, @ 2009-01-02 20:20:00 |
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Who: A fuckload of people
Where: The Ministry of Magic
When: 5:15-6:00 pm, 2 January 1980
What: TAKEOVER
Rating: R
Status: complete
PART 2 OF 7
[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7]
2. 5.20pm The Death Eaters Arrive at in the Atrium
Chaos ensues, the Ministry-wide alarm goes off when all the Death Eaters Apparate in.
(LEVEL 8)
The Atrium was a strange place to the little vampire girl standing in the middle of the hall. It was large, for one, confusing her ideas of inside=enclosed=constricted and outside=open=free, and though the air didn't move completely as easily and quickly as it did out in the countryside, it was certainly more than in a small sitting room or kitchen. The walls were lined with fireplaces, also, which she had prodded at a few times since the rest of the army had left her to go and find the people. She did not know what they were for because surely there was more of them than there needed to be to warm up somewhere like this? It didn't even feel very cold! They did not hold her interest like the fountain in the middle though, which was where she was now. A few bodies scattered the hall, lying in various positions of abandoned repose where they had fallen. They, too, did not bear her any particular fascination, now that they were still and cooling.
The water around the statues was not very deep and it was that that she was indulging in now, splashing around to amuse herself while she waited - and why were they taking so long, she had been here for ages, she wanted to go and find Fenrir!
Pausing, she wondered how long it had been since anyone had really come through here. She hadn't been paying much attention to the time, but it had been a while, hadn't it? Maybe they were done. She could go up and find them, and see if everything was finished. Mind made up, she clambered out of the pool and headed off towards the end of the hall at a trot, wet footprints trailing out behind her.
Severus had little time for the Dark Army, his hand grasped his wand as they arrived at the Ministry. His mask secured, he knew that he could not spend time thinking on those that were on the other side here. He had given Pepper a heads up that something would happen, and he trusted that the other man was sneaky enough, that he'd put the pieces together and would be careful. His job was to simply follow his Orders. Anything else here would be helpful to no one, and if he was successful, he would be given future assignments. He would perhaps even be given higher ranking, and those were the sorts of things that would only be useful to the future.
A stunning spell was directed at the man who measured wands, and Severus stepped away from the Atrium, moving deeper into the Ministry. Stunning, mainly, those who were to resist. Only someone who put up an extreme fight was going to get anything more strenuous from his wand at this moment.
3. 5.20-5.30pm Death Eaters Move Through the Ministry (Levels 9, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3)
(LEVEL 9)
Dorcas vs Gaius and Demetrius and Bellatrix
Currently, as it seemed, all of their fellows had gone up. And there they were, having to go straight down into the Department of Mysteries. Though, this department would likely be more fun to smash up than any other department. The alarm was ridiculously loud and Demetrius would have likely complained it was giving him a headache if he weren't basically high off of the adrenaline rush.
Coming off the lift, they found themselves in a perfectly circular room. There didn't seem to be many people in the department tonight, and the people who were there were scrambling through the many doors towards whatever exit they could find. "The walls are spinning," he noted over his shoulder. He idly tossed a few curses out, but it seemed the department wasn't really looking for a fight.
"Well, so far this looks like it will be easier than I expected," Gaius said quietly, watching from a few feet behind Demetrius as the employees rushed through the doors. Likewise, he cast a few curses in the direction of the exiting workers, but when it seemed as though their attention was elsewhere, he stopped, holding his wand down by his side, at the ready but foolishly complacent.
It actually was not Dorcas's habit to be in the Ministry at this time on a Friday evening. Yes, she was a slacker. She cut out of work before her shift was over sometimes on Fridays. But today, she had got caught up in a project, working furiously in the Brain Room when the dark tin of the alarm bell sounded. Her heart nearly stopped. She was the only person left actually working in the room. What was going on? That wasn't a fire alarm -- she knew that sound. The continuing alarm bursting at her eardrums could only mean one thing. Death Eaters.
Most people, most sane people, most people less brave than Dorcas Meadowes, would have simply gone running for the exit as fast as she could. But she could feel anger boiling up inside of her as she shrugged off her robes -- she wouldn't need them -- grabbed her wand, and hurried towards the door.
The rest of the Unspeakables, few as they were, had either run for an exit or hidden somewhere else in the maze of the basement. She entered the Room of Revolving Doors alone, wand brandished. And sure as day, there they were. Two of them, standing there. She tried to think of something to say, but "Get the fuck out of the Ministry" didn't seem to cut it. Instead, she sent a silent Tripping Jinx at one of them.
Being knocked to the ground before any open fighting had occurred was certainly enough to keep Gaius on the alert. As he scrambled to his knees, brushing aside his sore dignity and inwardly chastising himself for being so careless. Duelling practice seemed to regularly fall short on preparing him for the stress of the actual thing.
Once steady on his knees, Gaius trained his wand on the approaching witch. "Stupefy!" he shouted, not bothering to try returning a silent curse until he was back on his feet a few moments later. A silent 'Incarcerous' followed the Stunning Spell.
Dorcas ducked, the red flash of the Stunning Spell flew above her head and the small ropes wrapped around her. Cursing, she raised her wand as best she could and a quick "Diffindo" sent the ropes uselessly sliding to the ground. There were two of them, but she could take them. She raised her wand and muttered, "Levicorpus!" towards Gaius.
As soon as Gaius felt the ground fall beneath his feet - or at least, that's how it felt, though he knew that it was he who was rising - he muttered some brief profanities. as he allowed his instincts to overcome him, kicking and writhing mid-air as he fought against the spell. He knew he had to overcome the panic, but the logic at the back of his mind was having no success in breaking through.
Lowering her wand, she let the Death Eater fall to the ground. He could brace his own fall. Not missing a beat, Dorcas shot several spells out of her wand. Diffindo. Furnunculus. Deprimo. Bursts of light shot out of her wand, she threw up a Shield Charm just in case they started bouncing off the walls.
Gaius was less relieved when he found himself back on the ground, mostly due to the crunch in his left arm as he tried to brace himself upon landing. Stabs of pain moved up his arm into his shoulder and chest. He wasn't sure if it was the pain that made catching his breath hard or the stunning effect of the fall.
By the time he had gained some sort of composure, the witch had already begun her next attack. He attempted a Sheild Charm himself, but he wasn't fast enough and resorted to flattening himself out on the ground, hoping that the spells would fly over him. Both fortunately and unfortunately, he managed to duck out of the way just in time - he could still feel the heat of the curses as they hurled by; however, when they made contact with the wall behind him, they not only ricocheted but also blasted the wall, sending splinters of wood in every direction. Gaius felt especially that they were coming straight at him.
Dorcas watched as the wall crumbled around the Death Eater, the spells banging off the walls and what must have been the remnants of her Slicing Charm bounced off her cheek. Warm blood trickled down her face. She wiped it away, pressing her palm against the cut to stem the bleeding. One of the doors opened -- the other one was back.
Demetrius found himself back in the room full of doors after clearing the department. There hadn't been a lot of resistance. He hoped Gaius had managed to kill whoever it was that had charged them instead of fleeing. Only an idiot would even try that, and idiots, he often found, deserved to die.
But unfortunately, the girl was still alive. And though neither of them seem gravely injured, he was disappointed about this. Until, with a pang of rather savage excitement, he realised who it was. He hadn't been paying much mind earlier, but he now realised he should have.
Dorcas Meadowes. He laughed, and loudly, at this and approached. "Gaius, I'll finish this one," he said over shoulder, stopping somewhere in between Gaius and their target.
"This should be fun," he added with a smirk, as he drew his wand. "Expulso!" he snapped, not that making her explode would be particularly gratifying...the spell hit a nearby wall and it crumbled.
Dorcas didn't have time to think that the Death Eater in front of her was blowing apart the Department of Mysteries -- a place so sacred they should never set foot inside it. She just moved out of the way of exploding rock as fast as she could, grasping her wand firmly in her hand. She couldn't recognise Demetrius behind the mask, but she did recognise the familiarity. She ran through a list of Death Eaters she knew personally in her mind, her chest rising and falling rapidly.
"If you consider dying fun," she spat, wand still raised. "Deprimo!" she said, pointing her wand directly at him.
He barely dodged that, snarling slightly, a door behind him splintered with the force. "I'm not the one who's going to die here," he said, breathing a bit faster than normal. "Don't worry, Dorcas, I've heard dying is painless," he added.
Demetrius lifted his wand, his eyes dancing. "Sectumsempra," he snapped, bringing his wand down like a sword.
The spell went further down, probably, than Demetrius had anticipated, glancing off Dorcas's thigh, but it was nothing. She'd felt worse. She already had scars. "I think that depends on how you go," she said, keeping her voice even. Rock littered the ground from the wall that now gaped open, exposing the Death Room and its eery ampitheatre. Dorcas rarely went in there, and a hushed wind echoed from its depths. "I'd certainly rather the Killing Curse than, for instance..." she paused, as if thinking, and silently sent out an Incendio. As flames burst out from her wand, she said, "Being set on fire."
Unfortunately for Demetrius, he didn't quite get out of the way on time, and the flames ignited his left arm. Shuddering with the pain, he ground his teeth together in an attempt to stay silent. "Aguamenti," he muttered, dousing the flames in cold water. His arm was still burning.
"Luckily I'm not left handed," he said, glaring at Dorcas and stepping in. "Crucio!" he shouted, his voice echoing off the walls.
She tried to duck, to move, and she did, but unlike other spells, the Cruciatus Curse wasn't one that could graze off of you and you'd be a bit damaged and alright. If it hit you, it hit you, and you were fucked. The familiar pain encroached on every nerve in her body, she was too proud to let him know that it hurt her. She bit down on her tongue to keep from screaming, but tears escaped her eyes, rolling down her cheeks.
Dorcas was getting better, though. It was over in only a few moments, and she found herself in a heap on the ground, unsure of how she got there. "Fuck you," she said, and spat out the tinny taste and red colour of blood from her mouth. Her wand had fallen from her hand. She picked it up. Two could play that game. Holding it as steady as she could (her whole body was still shaking), she shouted, "Crucio!"
Demetrius had never actually been hit with a Cruciatus Curse, and he hadn't even had much practice with it. So when it hit him, he had no idea. The pain was intense, he couldn't even find a voice to scream with. It felt like his skin was on fire, tears welled up and nearly spilled over, and for the most absurd second he was happy to have a mask on.
Then...it stopped. He willed himself to stop shaking, and let out a single, humorless laugh. "You really are stupid, Meadowes," he said, trying to catch his breath. "Sectumsempra!" he snarled for the second time, though his arms were still shaking a bit.
She had recovered enough from her own bout of the Cruciatus Curse so that when she heard the beginning of the spell (the 's' was hard to miss), she rolled out of the way and watched as sparks skidded across the stone floor. She stood, still clutching her wand, and muttered quietly, "Avada Kedavra."
Ducking out of the way, Demetrius watched the green light set another door on fire. "You have no grasp of the Unforgivables," he snapped, standing again. He sent out a silent Diffindo, and then took a few steps closer.
What was with this fucker and slicing people open? She threw up a Shield Charm as if on instinct and the Severing Charm bounced off of it. "Fuck you," she said again. "I know enough." It would have been smart to step away. To run away. But she didn't. Instead, she took a step closer and threw a right hook into his jaw.
Wincing, the punch dislodged his mask a bit and he rolled his eyes. These people and their fists. Pocketing his wand (he found that his left arm was a bit too painful to move right now), his hand shot out and he grabbed Dorcas by the throat. "I think you underestimate me," he hissed, and thrust his knee upwards into her abdomen. "You were doing better with just magic," he added.
Dorcas gasped with pain, all breath leaving her body. She felt an ache running through her ribs and she tried to catch her breath, but his hold on her throat kept her from breathing properly. She wanted to say something, but she couldn't find the words. She suddenly was aware of how large his hands were. Desperate, her first instinct was to claw at his face, but his mask was in the way. The only opening was his eyes... she wished she had longer nails as she thrust two fingers into the blank space from which they stared.
He recoiled, his eyes watering, but instead of releasing her, he merely tightened his grip on her throat. Then he released her, and grabbed her arm, twisting it as hard as he could. "So how do you want to die, Meadowes? I admit, we should have killed you when we had the chance. But this will be so much fun, don't you think?" he asked, his eyes still burning.
It was as if they were playing a game of 'Mercy' with particularly high stakes. On the playground in primary school, there were many a time she'd been in this exact situation, her arm twisted, pain coursing through her shoulder. Only then, she hadn't had blood oozing down her leg or the soreness of the Cruciatus Curse in her muscles. Indignant, she spat in his face. "Let go of me," she hissed.
Wrinkling his nose in disgust, he released her, pulling off his now sullied mask. As quickly as he could manage, he siphoned the spit off with his wand, and then turned his wand on her. "You are so immature," he muttered, his body was screaming. He'd could stop. Kill her now, and leave it at that. But the chase, the challenge...it was fun. So he fired a silent Conjunctivitus Curse at her, and laughed as he pulled his mask back on.
The burning in Dorcas's eyes didn't erase the memory of seeing a flash of Demetrius's face. The situation was dire, yes, but she couldn't help but laugh. Mulciber. Mulciber. "Mulciber?" she laughed. "Oh god. I should have known." Without another word, she brought her foot up into his groin.
Honestly, the pain was comparable to the Cruciatus Curse. Groaning slightly, his knees finally gave. "Yes, Mulciber. Who were you expected? Father Christmas?" he asked, slightly breathless. Reaching out, he grabbed her ankle and yanked her right leg, hard, hoping to knock her off balance.
"Maybe someone who's less of a puss -- " Dorcas began to say, but her words were cut off as she toppled over on top of Demetrius. The contact was disgusting. Her hip fell first, into his stomach, and she tried to put out a hand to catch her fall, but it skidded and she was, most unfortunately, more or less lying on top of Demetrius Mulciber.
That, he hadn't been expecting. The impact knocked the wind out of him, and her weight made his body feel more injured than it was. "Ugh," he said under breath, trying to push himself up while formulating some sort of quick plan. Grabbing Dorcas by the hair, he pulled as hard as he could.
It had been years since Dorcas had had anyone pull her hair, and she had forgotten just how much that hurt. She was so used to working with magic that the pain one could cause just by well... beating on them had almost gone forgotten. Desperately, she grabbed Demetrius's arm and tried to yank it away from her hair. When he didn't relent his grip, she saw the exposed flesh of his wrist and sank her teeth into it.
Shouting a bit in surprise, Demetrius let go of her hair and jerked his arm out of her teeth. Examining his wrist for a moment, it wasn't a dangerous injury, but teeth marks were clearly visible. She appeared to have broken the skin in a spot or two. "Dammit, you fucking idiot," he hissed through clenched teeth. Grabbing her by the shoulder and pushing her off of him, he pulled himself up and threw all of his weight onto Dorcas, pinning her to the floor. Holding her down by the throat with his burnt hand, no matter how badly it stung, he pulled out his wand and pointed it right in between her eyes.
Dorcas looked up at Demetrius, her eyes narrowed. "What are you going to do now, Mulciber?" she hissed. "Fuck me?" He had the advantage of size, but her adrenaline was rushing. She swung her leg over his hip and, with all of her weight, she rolled him onto his back. He had a wand now. She didn't. Hers was only a few feet away. She leaned over and grabbed it. "Not a chance, Mulciber. Plus, I think your dick will be out of commission for a bit."
He laughed. "You wish," he snapped sardonically. "I don't fuck trash," he added. On his back again, he rolled his eyes. "Don't you have any new tricks?" he asked in a bored tone. "Expelliarmus," he said with a casual flick of his wrist, pushing himself into a sitting position.
Her wand flew from her hand. Fine. "And I don't fuck racist scum. But here we are," Dorcas hissed. When this was all over, she'd need a long, hot shower, to rid the feeling of dirtiness that came from rolling around on the ground with Demetrius Mulciber of all people. "Fuckwit." She drew back her arm and punched him in the nose.
Wincing as his mask was jammed back into his nose, the distinct sensation of it breaking was not pleasant nor welcomed. This was getting ridiculous, but he found more and more than he wasn't really caring. If he had to fight to the death, so be it. As long as Dorcas bloody Meadowes went too. The idea of never seeing his father or mother or Severus or Corbina or Aquila again didn't even seem to bother him. Demetrius stood up suddenly and forcefully, the blood from his broken nose was unpleasant trapped in the mask, and the urge to take it off was almost overwhelming. Shooting a silent, haphazard Entrail-Expelling Curse at her, he grit his teeth.
The curse skidded against the stone floor next to Dorcas and she lifted her leg off of the ground, driving her heel into his shin. "How's your nose, Mulciber?" she hissed, looking up at him. "My entrails are fine."
"Trust me, I'm going to come out of this better," he snapped haughtily through a rather heavily bleeding nose. The smell of the blood was overwhelmingly disgusting, his stomach was turning. Instead of even thinking hard enough to articulate a spell, he aimed a kick straight at her abdomen, putting as much weight as he could behind it. "At least I'm standing."
Dorcas was quick enough (and lucid enough, still, thank God) to see his foot coming at her and rolled so that it hit her in the side. But she was quick enough to wrap her arm around it and yank, as hard as she could, hoping to send him off balance. Either way, the wind was knocked out of her, too much for her to speak.
Bellatrix, exhilarated and triumphant, stalked from the Atrium into the Department of Mysteries in enough time to see Demetrius pummel a crumpled female form with his foot, of all things. Well, some dogs simply had to be taught a lesson. With a pert wave of her wand, she drug Dorcas's body to a standing position against the wall and let her feet dangle inches from the floor. "Oh," she breathed, "Crucio."
Confusion hit Dorcas harder than the Cruciatus Curse for a split second. Slightly delirious, she wasn't sure of how she was moved from the floor to against the wall, or who the second Death Eater suddenly was -- but then the curse hit. And even though she had experienced it before, only moments before, this was worse. So much worse. She screamed, every cell of her body was alight with pain. All she knew was the flaying of her nerves and the shouts echoing through the room. The next thing she knew, she was on the floor again, blood from her own leg pooling as she panted, trying to catch her breath.
Disoriented, she reached for her wand -- a wand, it must have been hers -- and closed her fingers around it. Lifting her arm weakly, she muttered, "Expelliarmus."
In such a disoriented state, Dorcas's counter-hex was batted away like a stray thought. It pleased her to concentrate the full breadth of the Cruciatus (again) upon her wrists and ankles, even as she released her pressure to let the girl fall again.
In the moments before the second curse hit, Dorcas looked up at the tall, new Death Eater. If she were in a better position, she might have guessed it was Bellatrix, but it wasn't even a thought. There were more screams, more pain. She wondered how long it was last, time seemed boundless under the curse. When she came to again, tears were rolling down her cheek, and there was blood in her mouth. She'd bitten through her tongue. She couldn't even think of a curse to utter.
There was no time to play as Bellatrix would have liked, snapping in and out of this girl's mind as she wove destruction in her body. No. Her end would be swift - and in its swiftness, merciful. Though, in her own way, she could not help but gaze wonderingly at this creature in pain.
Stripping her mask away to throw it on the floor (what needed they of masks, when the country would be theirs?), she stood before the young lady and peered through the morass of anguish to recognise the features. Dorcas Meadowes -- ah, sweet.
Through the tears, Dorcas looked up, using one weak arm to push her sweaty, tangled hair out of her face. Bellatrix Lestrange. It hit her like a ton of bricks that she was no longer battling against Demetrius Mulciber, a boy her own age who she could handle (at least, in her estimation), but Bellatrix, an infamous woman, someone who had tried to kill Sirius, her friend, more times than she could remember in this state. She had escaped her husband before, but she had a feeling that Bellatrix would not be merciful enough to let her walk away.
Her fingers tightened around her wand, but only feeble sparks shot out from it. She began to cry, harder. For all that she had wished that she would die in the summer, the reality of it crashing in on her was terrifying. "Please don't kill me," she said, but she knew it was useless.
This broken girl, streaked with sweat and blood, begging for her life gave Bellatrix pause.
"You are a blown rose, Miss Meadowes. Why should I let you live?"
Still breathing heavily from the after-effects of Cruciatus, Dorcas tried desperately to think of a good reason that Bellatrix Lestrange would allow her to live. She was loud, she was troublesome, she prominently disagreed with everything that the Death Eaters stood for. She didn't even have her blood to save her, being practically a Muggleborn. "I -- " she began to say, "It'd be wasteful to kill me."
She knew it wasn't a good reason. She expected her life to flash before her eyes, but all she felt was regret for all of the things she had never done. Never made a scientific achievement worth noting, never taken that trip to Paris she had always wanted, never fallen in love... There was so much she had wanted to do.
" ... I am disappointed," she spat the words, kneeling down in front of Dorcas with a clinical gaze. How fascinating. "Thoroughly disappointed, Miss Meadowes, that you couldn't come up with anything more creative than wasteful. Every breath you take is wasteful."
"Well," Dorcas said carefully, "None of the reasons I can think of would matter to someone like you." Blood was pooling in her mouth, and where Bellatrix spat words, Dorcas spat blood, aiming for her face.
And as Dorcas's blood dripped down her face, she rose and wiped it from her cheeks with the sleeve of her blouse. "A bitter, ugly young girl to the very end. No blown rose. A burr. A thorn. A waste ..."
Gathering her thoughts about her, she aimed the tip of her wand straight at the young woman's chest. "Avada Kedavra!" was a roar, and even as the green light flashed and the sound echoed in her ears, she turned and continued on her route. There were far more important things.
It occurred to Dorcas after she'd done it that she wasn't winning herself any mercy by spitting in the woman's face, but she felt something... she felt herself in the last moments of her short, her stupidly short life, and in the brief instant before the flash of green light hit her chest, her only hope was that at the end of the curse, she might find peace.
Aloysius narrative
The sound of the cloister bell jolted Aloysius out of some complex probability calculations and for a moment he just stared around the room blankly, trying to work out what the sound was. His brain caught up rapidly to what that sound meant and he swore sharply, drawing surprised looks from those closest to him. A thousand things ran through his mind before he pushed them all aside. His plan. He needed to put his plan in motion and that meant getting everyone out.
“Bode!” he barked as he got to his feet, his chair scraping back noisily against the floor. “Find out what’s going on.”
Bode nodded and ran out of the room. He was back within minutes, looking pale and almost frightened. “Death Eaters,” he said grimly causing a susurration of noise from the others.
“Right,” Aloysius said grimly, trying to juggle what he wanted to do with what he needed to do. “Bode, warn the others and start setting up a defence. We can’t let them into the Department.” He whirled around to face the others. “You and you… check in with Rookwood. You and you… go and find Waffling and make sure he gets out.”
“What about you?” Bode snapped even as he was heading for the door with the others on his heels.
“I’m going to lock down this place, then I’ll join you,” he replied over the sound of the bell.
Bode nodded and Aloysius waited until they’d all left before running over and closing the doors to the Time Room. He pulled out his wand and locked them before running back to his desk. He unlocked the drawer where he’d stored the shrunken trunk he’d brought in weeks ago and pulled it out. He paused for a moment to shove the notes on his Time Turner project and his journal into his robes then hurried over to the great cabinets and with a flick of his wand, opened them up.
He returned the trunk to its original size and opened it up. The inside of the trunk was much larger that it looked on the outside but even so Aloysius knew he wasn’t going to fit all the Time Turners inside it. Never mind. He would take what he could. He plucked a single tiny Time Turner from the shelves then raised his wand and in a series of short sharp gestures sent Time Turners flying into the trunk to settle in a neat and orderly fashion inside. He heard a few crunches and cracks which made him wince but he didn’t stop.
Once the trunk was full he tossed his notes and journal on top of the Time Turners and slammed down the lid. He then pointed his wand at the Time Turners that were left. He swallowed hard and for the first time since he’d started, he hesitated. These were valuable items, not exactly irreplaceable but the work required to make replacements would be immense. It seemed a crime to destroy them.
The sound of shouting and thump of a spell hitting the locked door jolted him into action and three quick Blasting Hexes had the remaining Time Turners in ruins on the shelves. He turned to the trunk and shrunk it once again, devoutly hoping that his calculations were correct and that the Time Turners inside would not be damaged. He shoved the trunk into his pocket then hurried towards the door that led into the Hall of Prophecy. He ducked inside and then down between two of the racks of prophecies. Once he was certain he was out of sight, he flipped the chain of the Time Turner he had taken from the shelves first over his head then turned it once.
The world blurred for a moment and when it settled, there was once again silence in the Department of Mysteries. The Time Turner he’d taken allowed for half hour increments backwards, the most he was willing to risk in altering the time lines. He quickly tucked the Time Turner into his robes, making sure the chain didn’t show then walked calmly along to the door that lead into the Astronomy Room. From there he made his way through the Room of Revolving Doors to the lift, where he joined the handful of people who were heading home early, giving the one person who questioned him as to where he was going a small smile and a roll of his eyes as he simply said, “Pepper.”
His questioner snorted and said nothing more. They all piled out in the atrium and Aloysius allowed the others to draw ahead. He pulled out of the stream of people heading for the apparition points and the fireplaces.
Pepper. And Jo. They didn’t know what was coming. He could warn them about the Death Eaters. They’d believe him. There were still at least twenty minutes until the alarm was going to go off. There was time enough to warn them. They could marshal the Aurors and the Hitwizards and try and fend off what had happened… was going to happen.
But… he couldn’t. It would be altering the time line. The attack… invasion… incursion… whatever the hell it was, it was happening… was going to happen. He couldn’t alter that. He had no idea what the consequences would be if he tried. Maybe it would be the right thing but just maybe it would be the wrong thing. He couldn’t take the risk.
Even if that meant leaving Pepper and Jo… and Broderick and Emmeline and Dorcas… to their fates.
A lump rose in Aloysius’ throat as he forced himself to start moving again, joining the hordes of Ministry employees heading home. He ducked into the first floo that became available and spun his way back to his home. Once there he summoned Atalanta’s carry cage and shoved her inside then shoved Nagendra in with her, hoping like hell that the large snake wouldn’t choose this moment to decide small cats were food. His eyes were blurry as he grabbed the bag he’d packed weeks ago and slung it over his shoulder. He scrubbed one hand over his eyes in an angry gesture as he headed for the door, locking and warding both it and the apartment heavily before jogging down the stairs. When he got outside he dashed for the nearest apparition point and apparated away to the hideaway he’d prepared.
He reappeared outside the ruined house and quickly hurried down into the basement. Once there he put his bag and the carry cage down and pulled off the Time Turner. He just stood there, unable to make any further move. He’d just left good friends and long time colleagues to face the Death Eaters. Just left them in a situation where they could die.
He looked down at the golden Time Turner in his hand and anguish and agony rushed across his face. He couldn’t let the Death Eaters get their hands on the Time Turners. He couldn’t. He’d spent years ensuring they weren’t misused and he wasn’t going to let them fall into the hands of people like the Death Eaters. It might seem ridiculous to some but that was only because they hadn’t thought through the consequences of allowing the Death Eaters free access to any point in time. They could do anything, kill anyone. He doubted they’d care much about paradoxes or other such consequences as long as they didn’t interfere with what they wanted.
He suddenly drew back his hand and threw the Time Turner at the wall, watching as it smashed into tiny pieces. He’d left his friends to die in order to protect a possibility. Perhaps one day he’d find a way to forgive himself for that… but not today.
(LEVELS 7, 6, 5)
Ferdinand narrative -- Level 7 (Magical Games and Sports)
Ferdinand knew that these sorts of things were necessary, even if he didn’t like doing them. There were times that he wondered why he had ever agreed to join the Death Eaters. At the time, of course, he had thought that it was what he wanted. It seemed so simple – glory, recognition, raised social status… And all for the Cause. It was the right thing to do. When he had joined, it had seemed so simple.
It wasn’t simple now, though. It wasn’t really in his nature to be terrifying, though thankfully the mask did that for him. He pried open the doors to the seventh level of the Ministry of Magic. Magical Games and Sports. There should be few people here, a couple of Quidditch enthusiasts wishing that they had something important to do. Magical Games and Sports. What a joke. The alarm was going off, so as Ferdinand and the other Death Eaters came through the door, he was only mildly surprised that there was no one there.
Surely they couldn’t have all left. Well, even if they had somehow managed to exit via the stairs, they wouldn’t go far, with Clara guarding the Atrium. Perhaps it was better that way… The vampire who was actually blood-thirsty could take care of them and Ferdinand could just meander through the department, checking for stragglers, and hopefully not having to get his hands dirty.
Wand at the ready, Ferdinand traveled swiftly through the offices, purposely knocking over a rack of (probably expensive) broomsticks and causing quite a commotion that would have made anyone hiding under a desk flinch. He’d always hated Quidditch. Aside from his secret fear of heights, in school, it was yet another way for those who were better-advantaged than him to show how glorious they were. He trudged to the back of the department until he found the door to the Official Gobstones Club locked. A simple Alohomora probably would have done the trick, but for effect, he shot a Blasting Hex at the thing and it exploded into a million tiny pieces.
In the corner of the tiny office, four wizards and one witch were huddled, shivering with fright and clinging to each other. Splinters of wood and shards of glass were littered over the floor. One of the wizards was crying – it always disgusted Ferdinand to see a grown man cry, but the witch, surprisingly, said firmly,
"Who are you and what do you want?"
He thought he recognized her from about, so for a moment he thought to say his name, but he remembered he was a Death Eater, and masked right now. He was no one and everyone. "The Dark Lord has triumphed," he told them. "If you cooperate, you will not be killed. You must hand over the department."
Another of the grown wizards burst into tears and, behind his mask, Ferdinand rolled his eyes. They were irritating. He almost wouldn’t have minded hurting one of them, but they relinquished control without further questions. Only tears. It was time to move on.
Ferdinand narrative -- Level 6 (Transportation)
The first floor had been boring, Ferdinand thought, but he was grateful for it, as he didn’t really fancy having to kill or torture anyone. He knew there would be resistance when they got to the DMLE – there was no way the trained Aurors and Hitwizards would go down without a fight. He only hoped they would outnumber them enough to bring them down. Ferdinand didn’t particularly like the fighting, but he knew that if he wanted to rise in the ranks, he would have to.
This floor was much busier, which made sense. While Games and Sports was rather useless, Magical Transportation made the world run. It cleaned the Floo Networks and set up the Portkeys of Britain. As the doors open, Ferdinand and his masked friends swarmed in through the elevator doors. There were screams of terror; a woman who was running from one office to the next (Merlin only knew why – the Games and Sports people had been wise to hide) froze in terror.
One of the older Death Eaters – he thought it was newly-returned Avery, though he couldn’t be sure with the masks – shot thin ropes from his wand and they snaked around her, binding her as she screamed and cried in terror. They began to split up as planned, covering different offices. He moved into the room designated the Floo Network Authority, following, where a woman was on her knees, sobbing. "Please don’t kill me," she pleaded, "Please don’t kill me, don’t kill me…" She continued mumbling this nonsense, other men and women were huddled together, whispering to each other. Outside the door, he heard Snape’s voice "Deprimo!" followed by the cry of shattering glass and wood as part of the wall blasted apart. A man who had been running clutched his side, blood seeping through his robes from shrapnel. These men and women were all fools, Ferdinand thought to himself. It was all hopeless. All their running and screaming was for naught, when all they had to do is surrender.
Once again, he heard himself saying the simple words, "Surrender and you will not be harmed. We will spare those who do not fight."
A man, mid-thirties, perhaps, bearded, strong-looking, burst free from the huddle. "And what if we don’t?" he demanded. Ferdinand had to repress a sigh. The other Death Eaters were circling him, their wands ready.
"You will be killed," one of them said, and this time, he didn’t recognize the voice.
The man had a look of sheer determination on his face. He raised his wand, but Ferdinand was faster. Before the transportation expert could utter whatever spell he intended to cast, all Ferdinand had to say was, "Avada Kedavra!" A flash of green light exploded from his wand and, in an instant, the bearded man lay dead on the floor, eyes open and unfocused.
Immediately, Ferdinand regretted this reflex, to kill. But it had to be done. The rest surrendered quickly and were bound without questions. The Death Eaters reconvened in the lobby of the Department and quickly began moving upwards. "One dead in the Floo Network Authority."
"One in the Portkey Office, too," someone said. "A few injured. Fools."
Severus narrative -- Level 5 (Intermagical Cooperation)
As they approached the Department of Intermagical Cooperation, Severus Snape's grasp tightened on his wand. This was his particular assignment and he planned to execute it well. Hopefully not literally, but if it called for it, he was willing to do it. Morals of whether or not this was the right thing to do could be examined later, when he would inevitably fall into questions about for the greater good, but for now, his task must be completed thoroughly. In the end he had realised that whatever his personal wishes in this regard, he would not change the course of a battle by working against them, and so his main focus was to perform well, to survive uncaptured and alive, and to hopefully ensure as few injuries as possible in the meantime. In the end, whatever happened, the perception others had of his loyalty to the Dark Lord must not be compromised.
Thus far the levels had surrendered rapidly. Severus had moved through each of them with his Death Eater colleagues, mostly unchallenged except for a few that had been summarily bound, gagged, or killed. And as he moved into the department, Severus pushed his mind into the ordered, focused place that he needed it to be. Throughout the takeover Severus had found once again that a knowledge of Occlumency assisted not only in blocking one's thoughts from others, but in general creating a more disciplined mind. That disciplined mind was essential to what he knew he needed to be focused on today. Focus would ensure that he harmed as few people as absolutely possible as they moved towards their targets in DMLE, and that they were able to ensure the take-over to reach Azkaban.There was no room for the doubts he might have had over what role he should play in this battle.
Thus far there had been few injuries, and few deaths, and now they moved into level five which seemed to be in a bit of a panic. In a far corner a witch seemed to be using incendio on files and as the Dark Army and the Death Eaters began sweeping into the department, a woman screamed, and a wizard, possibly the head of the department from the looks of his command stepped from his office, near the woman burning files.
"Stop what you are doing and surrender," Severus spoke firmly at the man nearest to him, who seemed to make a movement as if he were reaching for his wand. The incarcerous was automatic to Severus, and the ropes flew from his wand, binding the man tightly enough that he seemed to collapse on the floor and his eyes looked as if he were in pain.
"We have no intention of killing anyone we do not need to," another Death Eater spoke from the other side of the room and although it was precisely what Severus would have said, the fact that someone else was saying it irked him just slightly. This was his floor, dammit.
"Surrender and you will be spared," Severus added, cutting off the other Death Eater to remind all of those in the area who was in control of this particular floor and department.
The man Severus suspected was the department head, reached for his wand. And Severus raised his own to bind him as well, but the flash of green light from Barty's direction was faster than Severus' movement and the man was dead, crumped onto the ground with his eyes blank and lifeless. The secretary, at least Severus supposed that she was the secretary had dropped her own wand with a clatter on the floor and was staring at her newly deceased boss with horror etched across her features.
Severus gave Barty a quick nod of thanks as he turned his attention back to the secretary in front of him. His wand was pointed directly at her and her lips were ashen.
"Please don't kill me," she whispered, tears forming in her eyes. Clearly this one hadn't been a Gryffindor, Severus thought. It wasn't a bad thing as he had no interest in foolish bravery and martyrdom. If she would be reasonable, then so would he. "We surrender, Merlin, we surrender. Don't kill me."
"The Dark Lord is generous to those who are of Magical Birth," Severus said with certainty. "We accept your surrender. Accio wand," Severus summoned her wand and motioned to one of the Dark Army to move towards her, binding her arms behind her back. Across the department others were doing the same, and Severus handed the wand to one of the lower tier Death Eaters as he passed them. They would be remaining behind to guard the eight people left alive in the department.
Severus would have stunned not killed, but perhaps it was just as well that Barty had gotten there first. In the end, the man would have likely only caused more trouble and might have been killed anyway - possibly more painfully considering that the lower tier and Dark Army were in charge of guarding the prisoners. At any rate, he would spend no additional time considering the man's death. He stepped over the body without a second glance.
"Save anything you can amongst that mess," Severus told a lower tier Death Eater curtly. "They were burning them for a reason, and the Dark Lord may wish to know why. Kill anyone that puts up a fight, but cooperative individuals should not be tormented. The Dark Lord is fair to those who are of magical birth; we are not monsters but respect those of reasonable action. Do it well and you will be rewarded." The last had been offered without much real consideration behind it, but those guarding were the lowest tiered, so any acknowledgment was a reward. He surveyed the room and found most of the people already bound. Certain that the department was taken care of, Severus stepped away and back towards the lifts and deeper into the heart of the Ministry of Magic.
(LEVEL 4)
Alana and Ted vs Alecto and Ferdinand
It seemed to be an ordinary day. Ted was still at work, and had just sent an owl off to let Andie know that he was going to be late. Even with Tabitha Pryce imprisoned, owls came flooding the Ministry- some wanting to congratulate the Ministry, and what seemed to Ted like a great deal more just wanted to whine and complain and know when they were going to have the rest of the werewolves in custody. Sometimes it made him want to tear his hair out.
Sliding back into his seat, Ted brought a hand up to cover a yawn. He hoped this wouldn't take much longer, and he pulled one more stack of papers to him. Reaching for a quill, he heard the alarms of the ministry go off. Something suddenly didn't feel right- he didn't think he'd ever heard of the Ministry practicing drills or false alarms, and he reached for his wand, glancing to Alana where she was a few desks over. Frowning, he grasped his wand and clutched it tightly, silently debating what to do next.
Alana met Ted's eyes immediately, eyebrows drawn in a puzzled frown. Her fingers curled around her own wand as she stood. "That's the cloister bell, isn't it?" She looked quickly about as she moved to join Ted at his desk. Her coworkers seemed just as confused as she did, but the chatter of confusion soon became whispers of fear. No one, it seemed, had ever heard the cloister bell go off before. Everyone seemed paralyzed by the unfamiliarity of the situation.
"C'mon, Ted, let's go find the boss, figure out what's going on," she suggested, trying to maintain some sense of poise and calm. It was probably just-- no, it was probably something rather bad. She knew it, somehow, deep in her gut. And yet, part of her couldn't help but be a very little bit excited.
The Death Eaters arriving at the Department for Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures expected it to roll over as the floors before it had. Ferdinand was almost looking forward to it. All he had to do was look intimidating (easy with the mask) brandish his wand a bit, and they would wave a flag of surrender. This would be easy. The death in Magical Transportation was nothing. They split off, and Ferdinand recognised the female form that could only be Alecto coming with him into Werewolf Support Services.
His wand held high as he entered, he said in a calm, clear, collected voice, "Stop what you are doing. The Ministry has fallen and the Dark Lord prevails. Surrender and you will not be harmed."
Yes, Alecto came along too, looking for... well, trouble. They were finally doing something, and she'd be seeing her too-long-gone friends before the night was out, and all she really needed to make her evening perfect was to hex someone into insensibility. Just a little. Please? But this was just more offices, more boring bloody people, and even as she prowled in behind Ferdinand, wand up and threatening, she didn't particularly expect to get much satisfaction.
"Yeah, sure," Ted replied softly, sliding his seat back to stand. His free hand subconsciously went up to his shoulder- it was still a little stiff from the werewolf a few weeks ago, but he couldn't worry about that right now. He paused in his tracks when he heard the voice and then tightened his hold on his wand, keeping it at his side. He didn't want to appear too defensive, or for the Death Eaters to immediately attack.
And then he saw them, and he felt a pang of fear. He couldn't help it- a small part of him just wanted to get out of there and get his family- except he was here and he couldn't just run away. Except what to do? He couldn't very well just march up to them. Or startle them- that could be worse, couldn't it?
Alana's stomach did a funny little flip when she saw the masked figures approaching their end of the floor. She couldn't find it in her to be afraid - it was all too surreal, yet, for any fear. Death Eaters did not just simply march into the Ministry - and yet here they were.
Perhaps it was cockiness from her most recent (and only) battle that had ended so triumphantly, or perhaps it was a coping mechanism that forced her to use humour, however wry, to settle her into a resoluteness. Whatever it was, Alana found herself speaking before she could even think. "I'm sorry," she said in her most pleasant voice. "Have you checked in with reception?" It gave her time to put her hands on her hips so that she could reach the wand tucked into her waistband. What she would do with it, she wasn't sure. Her heart thudded as she awaited their reaction.
Ferdinand looked at Alana, eyes narrowed to slits through his mask. So, there was going to be trouble here. He didn't particularly feel like dealing with it. He wanted this all to be over and he didn't really fancy killing anyone else today. His wand was closed into his hand, so he wasn't worried, really. He and Alecto just had to deal with this girl's smart-arse comments. "Cheek won't stop what's happened, little girl," he told her calmly. "We do not wish to spill magical blood. If you cooperate, we will not harm you."
Maybe Ferdinand didn't. Alecto was fair itching to, actually. But she didn't say that, nor did she add probably to the end of his paltry little promise. She did say, "Reception wasn't manned when we came through. Well, not afterwards, at least." They couldn't see her grin behind her mask, but they could probably hear it, as she stepped sideways, away from Ferdinand. Far enough to divide their forces should these glorified secretaries be silly enough to attack, close enough to still support each other.
Ted bit his lower lip as Alana spoke- he really didn't think that was the right thing to be saying. But what could he do? "What do you need of us?" he asked, almost surprised at how strong his voice sounded, all things considered. He glanced to the second Death Eater- a woman? Bugger. It didn't seem likely that there were only two DEs coming into the Ministry like this, which meant there had to be more- somewhere. But where? He wondered if he and Alana would be able to get up to the DMLE. His hold on his wand tightened just a bit- he really didn't want to get into a fight if he could help it, but he couldn't just let his guard down. And he certainly didn't want to be the first to attack.
Ferdinand paused. He hadn't been asked that question before, so he wasn't sure what he was supposed to say. He just shot small, thin cords out of his wand towards Ted. "To begin with," he said, "You shouldn't have had your wand in your hand."
Alana's wand was withdrawn quickly in reaction to the ropes flying toward Ted. She cast a quick Protego between him and the ropes. She wasn't sure what she was doing, but instinct and training replaced thought. All she knew is that the Death Eaters would bind or kill them and neither option pleased her. She sent a Stunning Spell toward Ferdinand and took several steps backward.
They did want to play! Behind her mask, Alecto's grin took on a feral edge as she hurled a blasting spell at Little Miss Belligerent. The girl was already moving, but exploding a desk into shards was just as messy, if not quite as much fun. Splinters pattered harmlessly off her black cloak as Alecto dodged sideways, aiming a Stunner of her own past the cloud.
Ted couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief as Alana's shield went up just in time, and he scrambled back away from the ropes. He cast a stunning spell in the direction of the Death Eaters before following it with another Protego. "Alana-" he started, his voice low, but loud enough that she could hear. "Stairs. We've got to get out."
The red flashes of Stunning Spells exploded around Ferdinand, but he cast several Shield Charms in quick succession to protect himself. "Protego. Protego. Protego." His robes were ruffled, and he didn't bother fix them, flicking his wand and saying, "Sectumsempra," aiming at the girl.
Alana stumbled backwards from the onslaught of her exploding desk. She shielded her eyes and face from the debris, but she was unable to dodge every piece of heavy wood. As she ducked out of the way of one of the legs, half of the desk and attached drawers came tumbling toward her, knocking her legs out from under her and rolling onto her, pinning her temporarily to the ground. It was because of her fall that she avoided the more threatening Dark spell Ferdinand had meant for her; she hoped Ted avoided it, too. Bruised and hurting from the desk's weight, she fired a Blasting curse of her own, sending what was left of her desk hurtling toward Ferdinand. She scrambled backward, half-dragging her smarting left leg.
Continuing to edge around to the side, Alecto was out of the main line of fire, crouching half behind a desk and sidling around further. Popping up from there like a ghoulish jack-in-the-box, she fired more Stunners - one at the man, one where she thought the girl had been last she'd looked.
Ted tripped, falling down behind a desk as he tried to get out of the way-- and that was just in time for him to miss the Death Eater's spell-- but barely. His first instinct was to move toward the stairs as quickly as possible, but he couldn't just leave Alana there to fend for herself. Casting a few shield charms between himself and the Death Eaters, he began to throw whatever jinxes and hexes he could think of in their direction. A stunner came flying in his direction and he dropped to the floor again just barely in time- he thought he could feel the spell skim just over him.
Ferdinand shot another Blasting Hex at the now-injured girl, frowning behind his mask. "Have you learned your lesson yet?" he asked, shooting a few Diffindos at random towards the general area where both of the rebels (as he thought of them) were. "We don't wish to spill magical blood. Surrender and we won't have to."
Alana pulled herself out from the wreckage of the desk and pushed herself up to stand unsteadily, her weight mostly on her uninjured leg. She hissed in pain as Ferdinand's cutting spells grazed her, opening shallow wounds on her arms.
She was now very much uncertain that she and Ted had enough training between them to incapacitate the pair of Death Eaters, and she knew more must be on their way. The rest of the floor was abandoned; she imagined everyone must have either been rounded up or run away by now. It was time for them to do the same. Thinking quickly, she cast a floating charm on the wooden splinters and other remnants of the desk, sending them hovering and spinning in the air as a barricade between Ted and herself and the Death Eaters. She hobbled over to Ted and pulled on his arm, urging him up. "C'mon!" She hoped they could make a retreat to the stairs.