Who: Peter and Wan Where: The fields during the aftermath of the attack When: Backdated to just after the attack (Sunday, August 23rd, early early morning) Warnings: Violence, or at least discussions of violence. YES, THERE ARE WARNINGS. Status: Complete | Private
Peter had been at home, deep into one of his experiments, when he’d received word about the attack on tent city. Someone had fired something off on the journal about it, and he’d been alerted to it almost immediately. Staring at the image, it didn’t take long before Peter was rushing around the house, throwing on clothes suitable for the environment he was likely running into, and then snatched up his wand stuffing it away and moving towards his floo.
Quickly, the young Parker grabbed the necessary powder and threw it into said floo before stepping in and vanishing quickly to a floo location near where Tent city was. Closer now, he apparated there in a sucking ploop that dropped him to the outskirts of where the attack happened. It was already hectic, with people still running, crying, screaming, you name it. It was obvious Aurors hadn’t even shown up yet, unless the ones that were already there were already dead.
Regardless, he seemed to be one of the first to arrive, which meant who ever sent that over the journal had done so at the onset of the attack when they figured out what was going on. Shaking his head, he pulled wand free and moved towards people that had fallen, and making sure they could walk before helping them up and rushing them towards the outskirts, handing them off to able bodied individuals who could handle it while Peter focused on the surrounding area. His mind was split, looking for any more fighting that might be occurring, while also looking for his students, friends, anyone who could be in trouble, danger, or seriously injured.
In the bag he’d grabbed from home were some healing potions he knew would help, but he only had a limited supply and intended to use them on those most gravely injured, and so began to head towards where he saw the smoke spiraling.
His eyes followed the smoke up as he moved, and he frowned seeing the green mark high up in the sky, which forced him to stop a moment.
“No…”
A loud ‘boom’ went off as a fireball was sent skyward. As if attempting to erase the mark that painted the clouds a sickly green. A second was tossed a lot closer to where Peter stood, hitting the back of a robed figure and knocking them on their stomach.
Wan came into view through the smoke that only just now was starting to disperse. He had no wand, he had no words, just a hand making a cupping motion that was thrown forward like a pitcher trying to make a strike. The fireball blazed into existence as his arm hit the top of it’s arc and flew toward the target.
The robed figure rolled onto their back and pointed a wand at the oncoming incendio spell and managed to disperse it before it hit. Then he - or she - scrambled to their feet and with a loud POP disappeared.
Wan’s scream of rage roared loudly over another fireball that hit the spot the Death Eater disappeared from. A fifth fireball went skyward and he collapsed where he stood, yelling into the ground as he doubled over in both pain and anger.
Peter watched the fireball come out of the corner of his eye towards the Death Mark, and let his eyes follow it up when he suddenly felt a flash of heat, and he had to shake his head to clear his brain, looking around quickly, spotting the ball of flame being lobbed at a hooded figure on the ground. Wand in hand, Peter turned towards the hooded figure who managed to vanish off into thin air and he let out a sigh.
Looking towards Wan, he moved towards the other man and dropped to his knees next to him, “Hey, are you okay? Are you hurt? What the hell happened here? Are there more?” Some of the questions he realized were obviously poor, of course there were more, were they still around? Likely not. And if they were? Well they weren’t around them at the exact moment.
He set his hand on the other’s shoulder and frowned, “Have you seen anyone else who’s injured? Anyone who needs help?” Maybe the other hadn’t been looking for that though, having gone on the defensive instead.
Looking over his shoulder, Parker looked back to where the Death Eater had been and just gripped his wand tighter. He should have been here, should have come, then maybe...well who knows what more he could have done. He glanced back to Wan and reached a hand out to help him up if he so desired, “Name’s Peter. Tell me what you know.”
“Yes,” Wan answered. It was a ‘yes’ to most of his questions. It didn’t really explain what happened, but that wasn’t a yes or no sort of thing. “Death Eaters. That’s what someone shouted. I was outside my tent and spells just went off around me. People started getting hurt and then the guys in masks started showing up. I tried to stop them.”
He squeezed his arms more tightly around him and then pushed up onto one knee. There wasn’t any blood or obvious signs of damage, but the way he was holding his sides, something had hit him and hit him hard. Wan tried to push himself further but only managed to topple over, gasping loudly.
He could see the Dark Mark again, where it still sat high in the sky. He glared at it and screamed a long stream of curses - not spells, just the normal kind of foul language any muggle could muster. And when his attention snapped back to Peter, it was obvious just how exhausted he was, “They’ve killed people. I didn’t kill any of them. I tried to knock them back, keep them down. But they killed people.”
Peter frowned, he’d been a hell of a scholar in school, so he knew as much about the Death Eaters as anyone not personally experienced with them could know, but never in his life did he think he’d have to get to know them on a level like this. Shaking his head he frowned towards the direction of the Death Mark when he heard the other man collapse to the ground.
Turning towards him he lowered down to help Wan get settled a bit easier, then frowned looking down at his sides. Scanning them a moment, he looked to Wan, “How’d you get hurt? I mean, what hit you. I have some potions in my bag, they can maybe help but I need to know what first…”
When Wan began to talk about the killings, Peter’s lips created a tight perse, his jaw setting as he looked out over the tents, and then nodded trying to keep his bearings in mind, “Yea, they’re the worst kind of humanity there is. But let’s make sure no one else dies first, alright? Let me look at you, and then I’ll go and see what survivors are in need of… Merlin, anything at this point. And don’t fret, if they really are Death Eaters, then they’re powerful, you did all you could. Trust me. I only wish I could have been here sooner to help.”
He then set his bag down and began to look through the potions, pulling one out and holding it towards him, “This’ll at least help with the pain. They didn’t get you with a curse did they?”
“I don’t know,” Wan hissed, trying to breathe clearly before throwing his arm out to grasp at the potion. “I deflected a lot of things, but I don’t know what they all were. More than one grazed me but nothing hit straight on.”
And he wasn’t lying but the way he was squeezing his stomach, it was like his insides were trying to escape. How long he’d been putting off holding himself was questionable - and not a question he could answer. It just hurt. A lot.
He had trouble with the potion, laying on his side as he was, but he was trying. Fumbling with the top and doing his best to get it down without spilling most of it on his face.
“I tried to stop them,” he repeated through clenched teeth. “I really did.”
“I’m sure you did, and that’s all anyone can ask of you, try and do it. Most would run in that situation, you stood against them, that’s brave, and probably a bit foolhardy too,” Peter managed a quiet grin, trying to show he was joking. It was Peter’s way of dealing with the tough situations, humor. It helped him stay focused and not become overwhelmed, “But bravery and foolhardy kind of go hand in hand. It was good of you, and I’m just glad you’re not dead.”
Though he didn’t really know this other male before him, he knew that he’d tried to save people, help people, and that was good enough for Peter to know he was alright. Watching him struggle with the potion, Peter did his best to help with it before taking it back and frowning, “I’m not a medical expert unfortunately, I can’t assess what’s wrong with you. We should probably get you out of here, to an evacuation area, a safe zone. Aurors will likely be showing up soon if they’re not already here. Can you stand?”
Peter’s eyes continued to scan the other in front of him while also scanning the area too, trying to watch for anymore problems that were coming. The Death Eaters had moved swiftly, this was a hit and run tactic, which meant they might not be strong enough for a full scale assault, but strong enough to announce their return.
Wan shook his head, “No. Hurts too much.” He hated admitting it, but at this point, with the adrenaline rush fading and the anger haze dispelling, Wan was not able to push himself enough to stand up. He felt lucky that he didn’t hurt so much he was on the edge of passing out. He’d been there before and with what had just happened, he didn’t need that kind of vulnerability.
“I have to find Christine,” he forced out after two difficult breaths. “I was staying with her and her parents. I have to find them. Get me up and I can… hobble or limp or something. Please. I have to find them. Please.”
Peter frowned, watching him and just shook his head with a sigh, “Alright, I can do what I can to help you walk. The pain should start subsiding at some point, but you really should get medical attention first. I’m sure she and her parents are safe, and likely already at an evacuation tent. Still, we can look for them, promise.”
Peter reached out to take Wan’s hand, and then put a hand behind his back so that there wasn’t as much pulling as he helped the other male stand, helping him to his feet as gingerly as possible, watching to see if he’d have to catch him or if he’d have to set him back down quickly. “Where did you last see Christine?”
“Before the parties started,” he admitted with a wince as he pulled himself up as much as he could while using Peter as a crutch. “I left early. It was too loud. Then I found a friend and spent time with him. And then everything went to hell.”
Wan managed to keep himself mostly standing while holding onto the Teacher, but it was clear it was an effort. “Do you really think she’ll be at an Evac Tent? What if she’s at her tent? Can we check there, first?”
“We’ll check there first, but I need you to be prepared that it could be on fire or collapsed just like any of the other tents, but that doesn’t mean she was in there. Just, keep in mind all of the scenarios,” Peter frowned at the thought as he placed Wan’s arm over his own shoulders, and helped walk with him through some of the tents, because one of the scenarios no one could be prepared for. Peter pushed that to the back of his mind though, he had to think positively at least.
“So what’s your name? And where is Christine’s tent? General direction at least,” he continued to walk with Wan, eyeing all the tents that they passed. Some with holes in them, others collapsed and burned, others still on fire that people were trying to take out. There was smoke everywhere, and it was hard to see too far in front of one’s self.
“And yea, I really do believe she’s probably at an evac tent.”
“Wan. My name is Wan,” he murmured. He wasn’t really prepared for the other possibility, but he could deal with it if it happened. He hoped he could deal with it. He hoped he didn’t have to.
“She’s that way. I think. It’s hard to tell with that thing in the sky and all the smoke,” Wan sighed, squeezing his eyes shut to avoid the temptation to look up at the stars that were currently obscured. “Toward the outer-middle of the camp. That probably doesn’t make much sense. But her family, they have money. Not as much as the people in the center, but enough that they can set up close to that area and not stick out much.”
It was the only way he could think to describe the location. It was easy to tell which clusters of tents - mostly in the middle - had ‘money’. Were rich. Pureblood. And the general income level fell as the tent city fanned outward from the Pitch.
“The Preston family tent. Christine Preston. That Christine. Maybe someone knows the way. Someone else that’s standing. Is anyone else standing?”
“There are, I can make some of them out, not all of them. The smoke’s rather thick, and people are still kind of lost and confused. I think most people ran for the edges of the tents, but maybe not. I’m really not sure at all,” He had no idea, what he could see were just smoky tents, and fires, it was hard to see around there. What he could make out were some people moving away, most limping in a similar fashion Wan and he were right now.
“Name’s Peter. It’s a pleasure to meet you Wan, just wish it was under better circumstances…” Quietly he gandered about, until he reached someone who was directing some of the traffic, “Preston family tent. Wealthier tents, which direction?” When the man gestured, Peter nodded his thanks and began to make his way in that direction as quickly as the two of them could.
“They’re Death Eaters, they may have avoided the center mass. After all, that’s where the Purebloods are, and Death Eaters are fans of Purebloods. Maybe they didn’t take the time to weed out who supported Half-Bloods and Muggles, and just attacked the outer edges. Then again, they also might have just attacked anyone here, but I’m willing to bet they went for what their usual targets would be.”
Not that that made it any better, but it could mean the Preston family was okay. As they neared that area of the field, less of the tents were toppled, but there were still plenty down, and fires continued to litter the area. “I think we’re close.”
Wan lifted his head to look around a bit. With less tents down, it was easier to tell the paths apart and figure out the directions then it had been before. He nodded slowly before trying to pull Peter to the left, “This way. Down this line twelve tents and then two more on the right. We turn right and go two more, I mean. It’s pretty clear around here.”
Relatively speaking of course. Wan knew what he knew about Death Eaters from urban legend and what little history reading he could do via the tabloids that occasionally brought them up for sensationalist bullshit. Though, after tonight, he wasn’t sure if all of it had been BS or not.
“Thank you,” he muttered again, weaker this time. He was running out of steam and he knew it. “If she’s not there, we can- we can check the Evac Tents. She probably wasn’t there. She was enjoying the parties.” He was worried now that she’d been hit since her family had some money, but they weren’t pureblood. They would be easy targets, right? If that’s who the Death Eaters had been after. They’d certainly been firing a lot at him and only the fact that he knew enough wandless magic to deflect the spells had kept him alive. She wasn’t even allowed to bring her wand. That he knew of. He realized he was starting to panic a little.
“I hope her tent is standing.”
Peter nodded as they trudged through the soft ground of the fields. The amount of people here had caused paths to show up from foot traffic, with grass trampled and smashed down, dirt showing bare here. Today, the grass was now singed, golden, ugly ground and showed the ample amount of traffic that came through here during this event. Around them on all sides were tents blown apart, shredded, on fire; he even saw a few lumps through the smoke that resembled bodies. They were unmoving, though, and he had to assume if they were, they were dead; or they were something else, and that’s the hope he held onto.
Nearing the location he’d mentioned for Christine’s tent, he began to look around and finally came to the tent of the Preston family. His heart sank when he saw that it was sunk to the ground and trampled over. There was rubble near it, showing explosions had occurred, confirming an attack in this area. He looked to Wan and frowned, “Let me take a look. You’re too weak to to be lifting all of this, so just stay here and let me look for any survivors.”
There was some blood on the ground, near the tent, though not a lot. Not enough to make Peter worry all that much. He moved through the tent area, lifting any parts that were sticking out suggesting something under them.
He spoke up loud enough for Wan to hear, “No bodies… some blood but not a lot. I’d have to suggest the blood comes from minor wounds, nothing life threatening, probably from the collapse. There’s not a lot of burning or scorch marks, suggests this tent itself wasn’t attacked in particular, just a result of attacks around it.”
Wan let himself be settled and ended up having to kneel as he watched Peter move through. He had seen the unmoving bodies they passed. He was more than aware of the still-burning tents not far from them. The collapse didn’t mean there was anyone inside. The blood didn’t mean anyone was dead. But it meant someone got hurt.
“If… if one of the tents… if there was someone inside the tent when it went down… would they survive? If it was put back up right? Would the magic that lets so much exist inside it… would they still be okay in there? Just… unable to get out, maybe?” he had to know. Because even if Christine hadn’t been inside. Her parents might have. Night and Day might have.
He didn’t want to have to tell Christine her puppies were dead. He didn’t want to know that himself. “I mean, they might not have been inside, but if they were…”
Wan’s breath came faster as the panic finally hit him full force. In seconds he was hyperventilating between coughing fits. Whatever the curses that had grazed him had done, the damage was not being helped by his attack.
“There are no bodies in the tent, the magic would have broken as the tent collapsed I think. That is, if I remember correctly, so as it collapsed it would have essentially been them buried in a tent if they were in there, but it’s obvious they’re not here. At least that I can tell,” Peter turned to face him, then looked back at the tent, “But there’s one way to be sure.”
Grabbing out his wand, he waved it at the tent and fired off a few incantations that’d allow him to begin setting the tent back up magically. As it put itself together, it was being supported by magic alone as most of the structure seemed damaged and torn. Opening the tent up, he went inside and frowned, “Lots of things broken in here! Toppled messes, clothes,... some blood, but nothing substantial…”
He poked his head out, “And no bodies. Of any kind. They must have gotten out. I’m sure of it. They’re likely at one of the evac tents, or one of the others, or maybe went home…” He waved him over, “If you want to walk through here and see if there’s anything they might want from here, I’m sure she, or her parents would appreciate it.”
Wan could not come over, much as he might have wanted to. The hyperventilation was making even staying conscious difficult. He was relatively quiet as he attempted to suck in air between soft coughing fits, so it wasn’t surprising Peter didn’t notice it while he was working on the tent. But Wan couldn’t respond. And he couldn’t move. And in a few minutes, he was probably going to black out.
Which was probably for the best, since the attack was a psychological one. Once his brain couldn’t override his normal breathing response, his breath would even out.
When Peter did look over towards Wan and noticed him having troubles breathing, he moved quickly towards him and put his hand on his shoulder, giving it a squeeze, “Focus on me Wan, focus. I want you to lay back and bend your knees alright? Come on.” Peter helped Wan to get on the ground and lay back, he then took Wan’s hands and put one on his belly just below the ribs, and one on his chest, “There. Now breathe in through your nose. Breathe, deep breath, and keep your lips pursed and breathe out slowly.”
“Just keep doing this and close your eyes Wan, and breathe deep through your nose, and out slow through your lips. Got it?” Peter kneeled next to him to try and help him remain calm while looking around them both for any help. He then looked back to Wan, not saying anything about it being alright or anything, he didn’t want to bring his mind back to the Prestons. Not until his breathing was under control.
Wan tried to focus on Peter’s voice. It was difficult and he didn’t even feel himself being rolled onto his back. His arms went wherever it was the other man put them and he did his best to keep his concentration on the voice telling him what to do. His eyes closed faster than his breathing evened out, but he was starting to pull in air through his nose rather than his mouth.
It was hard to keep his mind on what he was being told to do. His thoughts were as erratic as his breath. Rushing back and forth from all the people he wanted to check on to his own pain and back again. He wanted to ignore the pain but couldn’t. He wanted get air but felt like he wasn’t getting enough. He wanted to push himself up to go find Christine but that required breathing right.
Wan tried to focus on Peter’s voice and do what he was told. It felt like it was taking too long to breathe. He felt like Peter was telling him something counter-intuitive. How did slowing his breath down help him? He needed more air, not less. The way to get more was to try and bring it faster, wasn’t it? But Parker was giving him the only solution he had. So he tried.
His breathing took a couple minutes to start slowing down at any real, obvious rate, but it did. And Wan hadn’t passed out.
When he felt comfortable with Wan’s breathing, Peter slowly helped him to sit up and put a hand on Wan’s back, keeping him steady, “Look, Wan, you’re having some panic attacks. Understandable, but this is too much for you, not to mention all of the smoke and the fires, this is dangerous. You’ve been fighting, and you’re hurt, you can’t do this. Why don’t we get you to an evac tent and they can get you healed up and get you home after looking you over. Alright?”
Peter nodded as if confirming his own thoughts, “Christine and her family are fine. There’s blood, but it’s a small amount. It means just a flesh wound; what’s more, they’re not here, and as far as I know the Death Eaters aren’t taking prisoners, they seem to have flooded in here, attacked, and left. Their goal wasn’t death, it was to terrorize and strike fear. As bad as that is, it means Christine’s probably more than likely okay. So let’s get you back so that you’re healthy and you can see them. No sense in getting yourself killed and putting her through anything too.”
He reached into his bag of potions and looked around, rummaging through it before pulling out a potion that looked like water. Mostly because that’s really all it was, “Drink this, it’s just water, but it’ll help you calm a bit. Then we’ll walk out of here.”
Wan put his head down between his knees, weakly taking the water when offered. He’d seen death before this. He’d seen violence before this. But he’d never seen them so purposely woven together before. The occasional gang shuffle he’d encountered and tried to avoid were usually just posturing. Knife fights that would force one side to back off territory because they were shown to be weaker than the other. Killing tended to be a last resort. For all that muggle cops weren’t great about keeping gang activity in check, no one wanted to risk bringing their scrutiny down over a straight-up murder. At least not the gangs Wan was most familiar with. ‘Accidents’ were a different story.
Their goal was to terrorize and strike fear.
Well, the Death Eaters had certainly succeeded if that was true. Wan was scared for the people he knew and even for the people he didn’t. He was scared for how fast everything had gone to hell. How quickly and easily it had fallen to chaos. How little he’d been able to help anyone. And he hated feeling like he’d let the Preston’s down somehow.
Wan took a deep breath before opening the water and drinking it. He tried to push his guilt and anger away. To let it go, let it wash out of him. To relax. His eyes shut and another long, deep breath was taken before he nodded slowly to Peter. The tension in his body gone save for the winces of pain as his insides churned a little from the effects of the curses. The water helped that though. Probably just because it was something for his stomach to hold onto.
“Thank you,” he murmured quietly, calmly, as if the panic attack hadn’t happened at all. He was trying to pretend it hadn’t. “For bringing me here first. Thank you.”
And then he held out his arm for help to stand. Peter was right, he needed to get to an Evac Tent or he wouldn’t be able to keep looking the way he wanted to.
Peter shook his head and helped Wan to his feet, after taking his arm, “Don’t worry a thing about it, Wan. Seriously. It’s no problem whatsoever, I get it she’s your friend and her family are like family. I don’t know that for sure, I suppose, but it sure seems like it the way you’re acting. I came all the way here to make sure people were okay, and this is the best way to do it anyway.”
Peter hadn’t been here in the beginning, it wasn’t until after receiving that note from one of his students or whoever it was, he couldn’t remember the name unfortunately, it’d been in a hectic start when he’d read it and he’d been quick to move rather than read too heavily. He had, of course, thought it was some sort of prank at first, if only because Death Eaters? Now? Why now? Of all the years, why now? But he also knew it’d be a dumb joke because of the unlikeliness of the event. Which is why he’d rushed.
Regardless, he was here, and it was real. With Wan helped to his feet, Peter nudged them forward, “Let’s get you up to one of them, and get you looked at. Maybe try Christine’s journal when you get a chance, I’m sure she’ll be letting people know she’s okay as soon as she gets through the worst parts of this and has finally calmed down a bit.”
“If she has hers on her,” he muttered, leaning heavily into Peter. Then he sighed, having nothing better to do while they walked except talk. And he had nothing to talk about that wasn’t worry or a denial of Christine’s family being like family to him. Which really wasn’t something he wanted to go into with Peter.
A different topic then.
“You shouldn’t have burned the baguettes.” He side-eyed the man and paused, “That was you, right?”