Blurred Lines Mods (blurred_mods) wrote in blurred_lines, @ 2008-09-14 01:25:00 |
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Tabitha couldn't remember the last time she had felt so afraid in a fight before; she couldn't see anything, and it made her even more reckless than normal. She couldn't see the spells, but she could hear it when Lily shouted -- although that didn't do Tabitha any good, because she couldn't see the wand and didn't know what the spell even meant. It wasn't long until she found out, though, as searing pain shot up her arm from the point of impact on her elbow, cracking and shattering the bone. She cried out, pulling away slightly from the other woman, and then clenched her fist, trying to aim a punch at Lily with the arm she could still use.
Lily was glad to see the terror in Tabitha's eyes, although when the crash came on her shoulder she let out a cry. She felt like her bone was crushed, and her eyes closed tightly before she let out another cry, the first one she could think of --- Furnunculus!" she said, and she rolled away from Tabitha as best she could -- which probably wasn't a great idea, since she could feel the extreme pain in her shoulder.
The spell struck Tabitha in the face, and she recoiled again, using her good hand to claw at the painful things on her face -- which seemed to just make them worse, crying out as her claws scraped over the boils. She couldn't do this, she couldn't see anything and if she didn't try to get away, Tabitha wasn't sure she could win this fight. She turned away to try and run, except she couldn't fucking see, and so instead she screamed out for her husband's help in her helpless terror.
Lily was glad to see Tabitha look this way. She wished that James, Remus, and Sirius were here to see it -- she wasn't sure if Marlene was getting a good look, too. That damned werewolf was not going away this fast, no chance--
"Petricifus Totalus!" she said, brandishing her wand at Tabitha for only a moment before she gave herself a second's pause to feel the damage in her shoulder before turning to look and see what she needed to do next.
"Aaro--!" but Tabitha didn't get to finish her final cry for her husband, her body frozen, unable to move, and she crashed to the ground, blind and completely still.
Hearing his wife's scream, Aaron turned away from Agnes, almost instinctively. He'd just been hit in the face with a curse that made his eyes feel as though they were on fire, so he was far from clear-headed, but as Tabby fell, things... suddenly became very clear to Aaron. The redhaired witch was responsible for taking Tabby down; he would, therefore, take great pleasure in rending her limb from limb.
Abandoning the blonde, Aaron launched himself at Lily, fingers out and curved, clawlike, to scratch at her face.
Lily saw Aaron coming, and she moved her wand out to cry "Stupefy!" although she was too slow to avoid all damage, and a scratch went across her face. She grit her teeth and brandished her wand again, "Incendio!" she said, hoping that the fire would damage him. He was just as disgusting as his wife.
The second that Tabitha threw herself off of Marlene, she was up and scrambling in the opposite direction, definitely not wanting to stick around to wait for Tabby to finish playing with her once she doused the flames. She barely caught her wand as Lily tossed it at her (apparently those years of helping her brother practice Quidditch had been good for something), clinging onto the thing for dear life. It was obvious -- especially considering how loudly Marlene knew she'd been screaming -- that things must have been getting worse closer to the school, and that she, Agnes, Lily, and Aberforth were on their own against people (creatures, things) that were much stronger than they were. The last thing that would help any of them would be winding up wandless. Again.
Still trying to catch her breath and steady herself after the attack from Tabitha, she ducked behind the trunk of a tree, wishing there was a way to pause just for a second so that she could think. Marlene quickly did a once over of the area, having lost track of how the others had been fairing in the fight while she'd been preoccupied with almost-dying. Aberforth was farther away, but Marlene sent a carefully aimed stunning spell in the direction of the male vampire that was attacking him, not sure if it would hit from that far away but needing to try nonetheless. Lily was all right (for the moment). Where was Agnes? Marlene would find Agnes, get Lily away from the crazy shebeast, and tagteam to help out Abe, and everything would be fine, right? Right.
Fenrir had largely been watching the fight. His people were doing well and he saw no great reason to interfere but eventually he became bored at around the same time as Clara was stunned and he decided that enough was enough. After their little run-in with Scrimgeour and his idiots earlier, he was eager for the fight and he no longer cared who or what was involved. He waded quickly into the fight, pausing only long enough to revive Clara - after all, why should she miss out on the fun that she and Dorian could have with the old man - then he shoved his wand up his sleeve and glanced around for a target.
The girl was standing there, almost with her back to him and that alone made her an entertaining target. He'd never been one to indulge in a fair fight. The Marquis of Queensbury had not been a werewolf after all. And he always enjoyed the shock and terror that came from any sort of surprise attack. He crouched low and darted towards the girl, launching himself at her at the last moment with a savage, feral growl.
This getting attacked from behind thing? Was getting very old, very quickly. Unfortunately for Marlene, it seemed fairly obvious that their attackers didn't give the slightest shit about originality, and Marlene found herself face-planting with the ground once again, the bloody train that had hit her from behind in top of her. Her cry cut off sharply as she collided with the dirt, panic surging through her as she gasped for breath. She kicked and twisted beneath her attacker -- they were so fucking heavy -- desperate to free herself and get back to her friends. No matter which way she turned or how she struggled, it wasn't enough to allow herself a clear shot (or even a clear view) of the person on top of her, which made most of the spells she could think pointless. Spotting a rather large tree branch a few feet away, Marlene pointed her wand at it, casting a silent levitation spell to float the thing over the head of her assailant before letting it drop, praying that would be enough distraction to give her time to wiggle free.
Fenrir grunted when the tree branch hit him on the back of the head and shoulders. His head was ringing and he wanted to just stop for a moment to collect himself. He knew he didn't dare and in truth this was far less than what he'd had in the past in any number of bar fights and certainly less than what had happened to him in the occasional dominance scuffle, in either human form or wolf form. He slammed his fist into the back of the girl's head, shoving her face into the grass and dirt to buy him a little time to recover. He wrapped his other hand around her throat, letting his sharpened nail prick into her skin. "Bad move, little girl," he snarled. He would give no human female the 'bitch' tag. A bitch was a female canine therefore no human deserved to be called such a thing.
Marlene's face smacked into the ground, a blinding pain and an audible crack resounding from her nose. Shit. She could taste blood in her mouth (and grass and dirt, which was disgusting), and she couldn't bloody move, not with him sitting on her, not when he could probably snap her neck in three seconds. She still had her wand, though -- like hell she was giving that up. "What uh. What do you suggest would be a better move then? Sir," she tacked onto the end, words muffled by the fact that her face was still half-smashed into the ground, hoping that being randomly polite in a completely horrid circumstance wouldn't hurt. Maybe she'd at least get a reaction out of that which was long enough to give her time to come up with a plan.
Fenrir shrugged off the branch and grabbed the girl tight around the neck. He clambered to his feet, shoving her face a little further into the dirt as he did so, then simply picked her up but the neck, uncaring of how tightly he was holding her. He grabbed at her wand hand with his free hand, closing it around her hand and wrist. He pulled her close to him. "Drop the wand," he growled into her ear. "Drop it or I'll make sure you can't hold anything in that hand ever."
So the bloke made a good point. Then again, if she dropped her wand and he killed her, it wouldn't matter whether or not she could hold things in that hand, now would it? Screaming for help from the others wouldn't do much good: they were all distracted with their own fights, and his hand was around her throat tightly enough that it made breathing alone an issue, especially given the beaten up state her nose was in. Pulling at his other arm with her free hand, all the colour drained out of Marlene's face as she took in a shuddery breath and tossed the wand onto the ground in front of her, making note of where on the ground it landed (and hoping it was far enough away to where he wouldn't immediately be able to grab for it either.). "There. Done," she noted, trying (and probably failing) to sound brave despite wanting to crawl into a ball and cry. Great. This was just fucking brilliant.
Fenrir was almost disappointed when she actually did what he asked. He'd been hoping she might refuse and he could have a little fun. He always hated it when they were weak. "Oh, you're so trusting," he growled into her ear with a low menacing chuckle. As he spoke, he caught an odd scent from her and he lowered his face to her neck and sniffed. He knew that scent. Not the specific scent but what it was. Every werewolf had it but to a more powerful extent. He let go of her wrist and ripped at her shirt, tearing the shoulder and arm away to reveal the bite marks he'd scented. Oh, he knew this one. "Well, well," he all but purred. "Marlene McKinnon. I've been wanting to meet you." He ran a single clawed fingernail down the scars, digging in deep enough to break the skin and leave a welling blood trail in his wake.
Fenrir wasn't the only one who was disappointed that Marlene had given her wand up. She stayed as still as possible, slowly bringing her arm into herself once it was released (not wanting to give him the chance to grab at it again), never turning to look behind at who she knew was there, never looking away from the spot on the ground her wand had fallen to. "I seem to be extremely popular these days," Marlene replied flatly, her stomach twisting up nervously -- shit, he knew who she was -- and sucked in a sharp breath when he clawed into the old scar that'd been left from Tabitha's snacktime back in July. Fuck this. She wasn't going to just stand here and let him play with her. And besides, she'd liked this shirt. Praying silently that at least one of the attacks would distract him enough so that she could dive for her wand, Marlene jabbed her elbow back as hard as she could into his gut, and shifting all her weight onto one foot, kicked her other leg back into Fenrir's kneecap.
Fenrir grunted when she dug an elbow into his stomach but would have ignored it except she then tried to kick at his kneecap. She missed but she kicked hard into his shin and that fucking hurt. He dug his claws into her neck and into her shoulder, partly in retaliation and partly to keep his balance. "Bad move again, little girl," he snarled before yanking her hard against him and burying his teeth into her shoulder, right where the scars were. He kept one hand clamped around her throat but wrapped the other one around her waist to minimise the amount of movement she could make.
Marlene shrieked as she tried to pull away, only to have the scream cut short, caught in her throat as the now all too familiar feeling of her shoulder being clamped onto, teeth piercing flesh that had only finally healed. Somewhere deep inside of her she wanted to believe that it didn't hurt as much as the last time, that it was just scar tissue, but that did nothing to numb the pain of his teeth stabbing into her shoulder. Her knees buckled beneath her as she drew in shaken, sob-filled gasps of air as she struggled, although there was not much that she could do. Marlene's nails were not nearly as sharp as Fenrir's claws, but she pinched and scratched at the arm he had around her middle anyway as it was the best defence she had at the moment, as basically any other movement was restricted. After finally gaining some sense of where her feet were again tried to stomp down hard on his foot, all the while screaming in his ear. He'd probably kill her, but at least she could hopefully make him go deaf in the process.
Fenrir laughed as Marlene struggled in his grip. Her sobs were like music to his ears and he barely felt her nails scratching at his arm or her foot stomping on his. How he loved it when he had his prey trapped and helpless. The screams however were more than a little annoying given how acute his hearing was and he smacked her up the side of the head twice... hard before dragging his claws down her chest. He licked at the wound he'd created on her shoulder then bit down again, worrying at the flesh, making the wound even worse than it had been.
Marlene continued shrieking through the first time she was smacked upside the head, turning her head a bit so that the sound was aimed directly into Fenrir's ear, but her scream was cut short with the impact of the second hit. She struggled to keep her eyes open, her vision blurred and head pounding as she whimpered quietly, just wishing that it would stop. They were right: she was weak, and she was tired, and she was terrified, and she was fucking disgusted that she'd just been bloody licked by fucking Fenrir Greyback. Marlene cried out again as his teeth pieced back down into the same spot as before, trying weakly to pull his other arm away from her chest.
She knew she wasn't going to get out of this through any sort of physical means. Head injury or not, that much was obvious. "Your friends are getting their arses kicked over there, just so you know," Marlene said faintly, still tugging at his arm in a desperate attempt to get him to let her go, not sure if she was correct or not. She just had to pray that Lily and Agnes and Abe were doing better than she was, and that having his men (and shebeasts) attacked would mean something to Fenrir.
Agnes had been pushed to the outskirts of the order fighting before she'd finally driven off Nick, and though she could hear the sounds of fighting not so far away, she needed a minute - just a minute - to catch her breath. She wanted to walk into the grassy expanse but her legs wobbled until she was on her knees, so she panted and dragged herself along the ground, shoulder aching, wrist already bruising. If she could sit she could heal herself. Probably. She just needed to get the smell of iron out of her nose, the dirt off her face. She wanted to vomit -- and to be fair nothing was stopping her -- and, pausing, retched into the grass before falling onto her side. Fucksticks and hell.
Catching sight of a small, bloodied, dirtied form staggering off away from the fight, Beth stepped away from the other Healers to help the fighter get to safety. Although she didn't want to think about it, the girl's height alone was enough to tell right off just who the staggerer was: the shortest person Beth had ever met, her dormmate for her own years at Hogwarts, Agnes Chesney O'Hare. What exactly she was doing in the midst of a heated and violent battle with the Death Eaters, Beth was uncertain -- especially considering she had only just seen Agnes this morning in Godric's Hollow, and it was surreal to see your friend pop up out of nowhere, stumbling from a fight with vampires and werewolves. In fact, there seemed to be several suspiciously familiar faces in the chaos--
But now was not the time to think about what Agnes was doing at Hogwarts -- now was the time to make sure she would be getting out of the fight alive and in the best condition possible.
"AGNES." Beth blurted with slightly less grace than she would have preferred, but really, grace wasn't that important, anyway, when your pal was hurling up her guts, dirty, collapsed – totally not important.
Coming up next to her, Beth kneeled, scanning the area for any crossfire before turning her attention to Agnes again. "I'm not going to ask why you're here at this exact moment, so don't waste any strain on that for now. Is anything broken, first off?" Beth's eyes fell to the mauled shoulder, and she visibly winced – someone had done a nasty piece of work on Agnes, that was for sure. She knew it was best to stay close to the other Healers, if only to have someone watching their backs, but she didn't want to cause more damage by moving her, just in case.
"Wrist, I think," Agnes mumbled back, breathing in grass and bitterness and breathing very consciously so that she could pull herself together long enough to get back in there. "Nothin else ain't, I don't ... know." She had the same sort of question - what was Bethie doing here? But whereas Agnes was a mere scruffy looking child looking incredibly out of place among blood and magic and violence, Beth was wearing healers robes - officially type ones that meant she was probably here with the DMLE. Aw fuck. "Shit, don't tell nobody I was here yeah? The mick will put me in jail forever." And she didn't doubt it. Agnes O'Hare, already in trouble for illegal spell-casting, was not supposed to be using offensive magic.
"As if I'm going to tattle on you, Aggie," Beth said as she started a quick mend on the other girl's shoulder; it looked to be a werewolf wound, and that didn't end up being her specialty in the end (no matter how she went back and forth), but she had enough basic knowledge from training and the interest she had taken when she was considering the magical creatures floor, so she knew better than to leave it gashed open and hideous like that. This would hold at least for the moment, and definitely while other wounds were tended to. It looked like one of the wolves had taken a chunk out of the shoulder... "I'd rather keep you out of prison, you know. Can't drill you when you're in the clink," she added with a slightly strained smile.
"Ah. Ha. Ah. AHTHATFUCKINGHURTS." She wasn't complaining - at least not on purpose - but battleside healing had never been the most gentle of professions, and she shuddered beneath the healing as her shoulder was knitted back together. She could feel strips of flesh literally growing into itself, and it was the most godawful, agonising sensation she'd ever imagined. The worst part was that only the foundations could be strung back together. The rest would take time and energy and would most definitely scar.
At least she wasn't vain.
"I think that's the worst of it. I don't need much. Just enough. Gotta get back out there 'fore it's too late."
"Sorry about that." A horrible, conflicted feeling struck Beth at the declaration; she didn't feel that she was sufficiently done with the patching up (though in the case of her friend, she wasn't sure if there was a sufficient amount of patching up that wasn't tip-top shape), and realistically, she could probably muscle Agnes to the sidelines, even if there wasn't that much difference in height – but if Agnes wasn't supposed to be in the battle at all, having the other Healers (or worse, the DMLE) see her put her at a risk for being in trouble on top of being hurt.
"I'm not going to fight you to stay with the Healers and risk you getting caught, so promise me, don't you dare get yourself killed, and no more werewolves," Beth said, pressing her lips together. "Actually, I'd rather you get out of here completely, but I guess saying that isn't going to change your mind either way, so just, I don't know, come back over here if you get hurt again, and I'll keep your going safely out from under the eyes of The Man." Standing up and carefully pulling Agnes up with her, Beth let out a huff a breath. "Can I at least mend your wrist first?"
Agnes was glad Bethie wasn't trying to stop her, because it would have been a bit of a hassle to stun someone who'd just helped her ass out. "I ain't gettin' killed, no matter what happens. But ain't runnin' either - you know better'n that. These fucks ain't supposed to be here, and I ain't just standin' around watchin 'em fuck up our school." She pulled herself to her tip toes to give Beth a kiss on the cheek. "You're a real darlin', Bethie." And she held out her wrist, wincing slightly and holding her wand in what felt like a very wrong hand.
"You gots any idea why they's here? Aurors all over the place, I figure they wasn't just in the neighbourhood."
With a smile – a more real smile, this time, at least – Beth set to mending the broken wrist, keeping an eye on the battle. "I do what I can. As for what the Aurors and whatnot are doing here, assuming that's who you mean – I know me and the other Healers here were called in, so I imagine they probably got word somehow at the Ministry that something was happening at the school, so they got their Dark Wizard catchers to come clean up the mess. Their specialty is supposed to be handling these Death Eater folks, after all."
Finishing up with the wrist, Beth gave Agnes one last lookover for anything else to demand a chance to heal before letting her disappear into the fight again – but Agnes at least seemed to be able to stand okay, and with a functional wrist, she could use her wand hand... "And that should do the trick. We can chatter more when you make it out of this battle alive. Have at it, then."
Agnes gave Beth a squeeze with her (now) good hand and let out a sigh. "Goddamn right we can. Take of yourself, Bethie."
And with a wink and a soft wince of pain, Agnes picked herself up, shrugged off her pain (as best she could), and headed off toward the gates.
THREAD TWO - AURORS/ORDER/DES (at the gate)
Dorcas saw Lucius Malfoy and immediately recognised him as the tall, thin Death Eater who had blown apart her flat. She couldn't see his face, of course, but she was a girl who relied heavily on instincts, and instincts told her that this was Lucius Malfoy. A part of her wanted to try to kill him right then and there, but deciding quickly that that would be imprudent with so many people about, she shot a quick Tripping Jinx to his feet.
As focused on Kate Proudfoot as Lucius was, he briefly forgot to check around him for other potential attackers. The Tripping Jinx caught him unawares and sent him flying, and he sprawled ungainly on the ground. A second later and he was back on his feet again, wand trained at the caster. Dorcas Meadowes. Rage filled him and his wand blasted out bright flames towards her as the word INCENDIO filled his mind.
Fucking Death Eaters and their fire -- Dorcas thought as she threw up a Shield Charm, but it wasn't strong enough and the hood of her robes caught fire. Panic immediately struck. Being in a battle was one thing, having your head on fire was another. "Augamenti!" She shouted, dowsing herself in water. The smell of burnt robes and hair filled her nostrils and pain seared the back of her neck, but she flicked her wet hair out of her eyes and silently cast a Blasting Hex at Lucius Malfoy, aiming for his chest.
As his spell hit her, Lucius thought he had her at his mercy. His scowl of rage turned to a smirk of triumph -- but then he was throwing up a shield charm, with all the strength he could muster. Complacence and having already been in battle for a while had dulled his reactions, and while the shield was strong enough to deflect the hex, it wasn't quick enough to deflect it completely. The blasting hex rebounded at precisely the angle he didn't want; grazing his left elbow. Lucius resisted the urge to swear, really, he had broken the exact same elbow at Diagon. Blocking out the pain, he aimed a Gouging Curse at Meadowes. Wordless magic was out of the window -- he bellowed the incantation to put as much power behind the spell as possible.
Dorcas barely had time to smile and enjoy the damage her hex had inflicted. Only a moment went by before his Gouging Curse hit her firmly in the side. She felt a warm trickle of blood ooze from a wound that felt deep -- hopefully not deep enough to injure her already-beaten organs. Placing her free hand over the wound, she wordlessly thought "Deprimo" twice, sending explosions into the ground right at Malfoy's feet.
Leaping backwards caused his injured arm to flap pathetically, sending even more pain through his body. The ground around him exploding, a stone caught Lucius's exposed temple sharply, sending a trickle of blood down his pale skin, beneath the mask. Stepping clear of the dust, he sent an incarcerous toward the girl -- she was such a thorn in his side. He followed this up quickly by wordlessly sending confundo's on either side of her, hoping she would stagger into one of them.
Luckily, Dorcas managed to dodge the Confundus (there was no worse time to be confused...) but she half-tripped into the incarcerous. The ropes tightened around her quickly, but she thankfully kept her grip on her wand as she tumbled to the ground. A stab of pain shot through her side, but knowing who she was up against, she had a feeling that if she let it bother her, she would be dead in the next five minutes. Quickly, she sent up a Slicing Charm up the ropes and tossed them away. As fast as she could, she stumbled back onto her feet and shouted, "Incendio!"
Thinking quickly, Lucius extinguished the flames as they came toward him, but with his senses not quite as on the ball as they should have been, a few sparks escaped the reach of his wand and flicked onto the hem of his robes. They caught fire quickly and soon had large rips in as Lucius scrambled to put them out. A mixture of stamping and water soon did it, and for a moment he allowed himself a moment of regret -- those had been expensive robes. The moment soon passed, however, as Lucius gave up on niceties and pointed his wand at Dorcas, surprisingly steady considering how badly his nerve ends were screaming. "Crucio!"
She should have been expecting this. The DMLE's presence didn't mean that the Death Eaters were going to play nicely, and Dorcas fell (again) to the ground as the curse hit her. But she was becoming more accustomed to throwing the curse, and though she screamed in agony for what seemed like an eternity, it was over sooner than the last time she'd been subjected to it. Wincing, she came from under the spell slightly bleary, and raised her wand, uttering the only spell she could think of -- an Insect Jinx which would make Malfoy sprout antenna, lose his powers of speech, and scuttle along the ground.
This time, Lucius really thought he had her. He even allowed himself a wry laugh, but that didn't last long. A muttered "Protego," to protect himself was not enough; the Cruciatus curse had sapped him of his energy and her spell smashed right through the feeble barrier. The moment it hit him, a burning pain spread through his forehead, a pain that would have made him cry out were he able to speak. His mouth open in a silent O of pain and shock, he dropped to his knees. The pain was now concentrated in two specific areas on his forehead, and raising a hand to investigate... there was definitely something growing! Now on all fours, Lucius was clueless as to what to do. So he did the only thing that made sense, scurrying away from her as fast as his four limbs could carry him, wracking his brains for a counter curse. But this was something he had certainly never come across before, and short of finding another Death Eater who would recognise this and wouldn't ridicule him --
Oh, buggar.
This wasn't a jinx that Dorcas had ever seen used before, but she was glad she'd remembered it. Trying not to laugh so hard she couldn't utter the spell, she sent a silent "Stupefy!" at Lucius's form. Before running away, put a quick Drying Spell on her hair and, looking over her shoulder at Malfoy's antennas, chuckled as she ran away.
Lucius was finding out the hard way that broken elbows made scuttling rather counter-productive. The arm was dragging painfully along the ground and besides, he was so tired. The last thing he would remember until he was woken several hours later was Dorcas Meadowes' laugh, and the red flash of her spell as it came straight toward him.
The only thing Narcissa wanted to do at the moment was curl up somewhere and cry, but unfortunately, being in the middle of a battle was not conducive to such wishes. She had no idea what to expect when volunteering to provide medical aid, but this much mess and blood and chaos was certainly not it. Inching around the campus of the school she knew so well, Narcissa slowly realized that Persephone and Eva were not with her any more. They had intended to stay together in looking for injured members of their group to bring back to the tent, but she was very much by herself at this moment. Fantastic. Well, she would take one last look, and then go back.
Glancing to the left where she could see a bit of a mess, Narcissa took a step forward and froze. She recognised that mask. She had seen Lucius don it several times, but it couldn't possibly be him. There was absolutely no way her husband could be laying in a crumpled heap on the ground. With a speed that comes with desperation, she nearly dove forward and felt for a heartbeat. There simply had to be a heartbeat. What if- but no, there it was. She felt it. He was unconscious, but alive. Alive And she realised, he had... antennae? Well, someone would know how to remedy that. Forgetting for an instant that she was in the middle of a rather dangerous area, Narcissa put her head down on Lucius' chest, and burst into tears.
It was a foolish thing to do. Dorcas had already done enough to anger the Malfoys. Between the drawing, escaping Lucius's claws twice, and now giving him antennae, she was sure to be pretty near the top of their Most Disliked List. But she couldn't help but stop for a moment, turn around, and watch the utter hilarity of the scene before her. If Lucius had been dead and not Stupefied, she might've felt a pang of sympathy for Narcissa, but as it was, all she could do was stand there and laugh. Loudly. She always had had an inappropriate sense of humour.
Narcissa’s head snapped up at the sound of laughter. How dare she? Whatever weariness and sheer relief she had been feeling in the past moments was replaced by pure, unadulterated fury. She had no idea that girl standing before her was Dorcas Meadowes, but in that instant, it hardly mattered. Of the Blacks, Narcissa certainly had a more even temper than Bellatrix or Walburga, but it was nearly as powerful when provoked. "Deprimo" she snarled, attempting to aim a Blasting Hex at that unfortunate idiot.
As quickly as the hex came at her, Dorcas threw up a Shield Charm, letting out the word "Protego!" even though she was trying to use silent wandwork. The hex met her shield with a shower of sparks, and she threw up her arms to protect herself from them -- she didn't fancy being caught on fire again. She heard hissing and smelt smoke from her robes burning. Great. Angry now at Narcissa Malfoy, she raised her wand and hissed, "Incendio!"
It should not have been a surprise to Narcissa that Dorcas would retaliate- but at the same time, it was. She let out a shriek as her sleeve on her wand arm caught fire, fumbling for a moment that felt like eternity until she switched hands and managed to put it out. Her whole arm was burned and it hurt and she was crying again (making the mask terribly uncomfortable) and she wanted very much to be away from here. There had to be some way of distracting Dorcas long enough to leave. Though it was much harder with her left hand, Narcissa sent a Rictusempra followed by a Tarantallegra towards Dorcas, hoping at least one of them would buy her time as she began to levitate Lucius' unconscious form.
Unfortunately for Dorcas, she was hit full on by both spells, and immediately, her feet began to skip madly out of control. Just as she began to utter the countercurse, she found herself giggling too hard to even breathe, let alone say a spell. Dancing and giggling, she tried to compose herself long enough to perform a Finite Incantatem, but was unable -- she would just have to hope one of the other Order members came quickly to help her.
Narcissa only dared one short glance up and almost felt like smiling at the sheer luck of it. But then, she had no idea how long the hexes would last, or whether Dorcas would be able to stop them shortly. Wincing as the charred fabric of her sleeve brushed her burned arm, she steadied her left hand and continued to levitate Lucius, walking as quickly as she dared towards the medical tent. Hopefully someone would be able to heal her arm and get rid of her husband's antennae.
--
There was no doubt in his mind that he was getting tired and he was perhaps a bit old and out of shape to keep on running around like this. Barty Crouch Sr was panting, face covered in a combination of dirt and sweat, his normally pristine attire torn and covered in soot. He had a couple scratches over his body, his shoulder hurting from straining it yet again and no doubt he was going to get yelled at by Demeter when he got home for even daring to go.
He stumbled slightly, tripping over something he’d rather not know what, before a curse was thrown over his shoulder and he could feel the heat as it brushed his shoulder as he turned, wand up, a shielding spell up before he really thought about it stopping the second spell that was coming his way.
He dropped his shield, a blasting spell following right behind it, watching it as it hit the other man, the sleeve of his robe being torn off and he grinned grimly as he threw another spell, this time a slicing spell at whoever it was. He watched as it hit the other man’s arm, cuts appearing along it, as suddenly another spell was throw at him.
He moved, but not quick enough as fire caught the edge of his sleeve and suddenly it was on fire as he tried it get it out, pain ripping up along his arm as he did so. He managed to get it out, pieces of his sleeve sticking to his shirt before suddenly he felt his skin slice open along his upper arm and he let out another groan, moving out of the way quickly as a third spell came at him quickly.
He threw another blasting curse at the other man, seeing him duck out of the way as he followed it up with a disarming spell, growling slightly when it was blocked. He could see the shield glow for a moment before it faltered and suddenly he threw another spell at the other man, a incendio, followed by a second one, the first one hitting to his surprise, and then the second one, the other man’s robes on fire.
Another spell came at him as he heard a scream of pain as he sent a stunner at the other man watching as he fell. He moved over, quickly casting an Augamenti watching as the fire went out before binding him up, making sure he couldn’t get away as he moved, his face twisted in pain as he looked to see if he could help anyone else.
--
For a couple of moments, there was nothing more that Emmeline could process other than heavy footfalls and swatches of wandlight illuminating the uneven ground as she and the others ran towards Hogwarts' perimeter wall. They managed to get into the grounds. Ignoring the painful stitch on her side, Emmeline ran faster as the scene before her drew nearer and nearer. The Death Eaters and Ministry wizards were already fighting, either party consumed with firing hexes everywhere. For a split-second, she hesitated, worrying that she might hit one of the Aurors.
After moving to one side, however, she saw a gap between the combatants, a Death Eater in plain view. There was no time to think, no time to wonder whether or not the man in the hood and mask deserved what was coming to him. He was a Death Eater and that, Emmeline thought, was enough for now. "Confringo," she yelled, more forcefully than she intended.
Aquila turned swiftly, searching for a path, caught temporarily unchallenged in the throng of the battle. It was this very motion that spared him the spell Emmeline threw at him, and it crackled by, upsetting the air but meeting no one. He was unsurprised and unperturbed that it was a young woman who had attacked him, though he did find it oddly surreal to be duelling with Emmeline Vance, a fellow prefect and schoolmate.
It amazed him that he could think so clearly with all the chaos about him, but a strange sort of calm had gripped him the moment they had entered the gates. Perhaps it was the comfort - the strength of knowing he was among comrades, and that they were making their mark, proving their point. Their task was already complete, in his eyes. They had shown that they were inescapable. They would go anywhere. His wand steady in his hand, he sent a Stunning Spell swiftly in Emmeline's direction. No need to do any undue damage. She was, after all, a fullblood, and could learn in time.
Missed. She couldn't help but entertain the disappointment that her spell missed for a moment before Emmeline began to move again. And thankfully she did move since a fraction of a second later, a bright red jet of light hit the spot where she stood. Emmeline pushed forward, dodging the other fighters until she could find a space that enabled her to work counter-attacks without being shunted aside by Aurors. She didn't particularly care about the identity of who she was duelling at that moment, especially when they were busy trying to knock her out. "Incarcerous." A length of thick, black ropes shot out of her wand towards the Death Eater. What mattered at that moment was if she could take one of them down, if they could arrest just one of them.
Thinking quickly, Aquila cast incendio, burning the ropes before they could reach him. It amazed him that, after all the vigilantes' and the Aurors' protesting and wishing ill on them, one would cast a mere incarcerous charm. Surely they wished he was dead, instead of arrested? Or were they not as passionate about their cause as he knew the Death Eaters were about theirs? Were they not willing to go all the way? Were they not willing to give everything, to put everything into it?
He was. He flung a spell at her, intending it to knock her to the ground forcefully. Perhaps it would knock some sense into her. He followed up with several stinging hexes.
To talk about murder was one thing, to actually do the deed was another. Emmeline had decided to be less forgiving when it came to the Death Eaters, her stance on the Unforgiveables becoming less stringent than it used to be (which was to not use them at all). But in practice, it was difficult. Her hand shook as she pointed her wand at the Death Eater and she continued to advance. The ropes Emmeline conjured had no effect whatsoever and she was fast becoming frustrated at herself. She was going to cast a Stunning Spell when the jet of light Aquila sent flying towards her hit Emmeline squarely in the chest, knocking her off her feet and slamming back to the ground. "Fucking m--," the next words were cut off as a Stinging Hex hit her leg, causing the skin to break out in painful hives.
Aquila dashed forward, then, heart throbbing wildly against his ribs. He gripped both her arms and dragged her halfway to her feet. He was not always so physical, and in another, calmer state he might never have considered laying hands on a woman at all, but battle changed things. In the thick of it, he had no choice but to succumb to what came to him, and he found himself slamming her bodily against the nearby stone wall. "Is it worth it?" His voice was rough from exertion and filled with disgust. "Do you honestly believe that abandoning your family was worth it?" The more he thought about it, the more he thought about the choices she had made, about the brother and family she had left behind (and that was all he really knew about Emmeline Vance, and all he could focus on) that she had left willingly, while he was torn from his, the more he could not comprehend. It made his blood boil.
"Just remember that you asked for this. Just remember that this is the choice you made."
And he backed away, only to send a revulsion spell in her direction, followed by a blasting spell, the first intended to knock her again into the wall and the second to send part of it crashing onto her.
Fear gripped her, paralysed her for a fraction of a second; long enough for Aquila to take charge of the situation. Emmeline had not expected this and the fact that the Death Eater was dragging her bodily and slamming her against a wall was scattering her thought processes. She squirmed against the man's grip, kicking and pushing where she could. Merlin, please let her hit him. But the Death Eater remained impervious from her counter-assaults and he was screaming at her. Emmeline screwed her eyes in concentration, trying to recognise the eyes staring at her behind the mask. The anger that she had been holding back for two months, all the anger and resentment from all that their side had lost, boiled up to the surface. "Yes, it is worth it," Emmeline hissed at the man, trying to tug her arms away and to compromise the Death Eater's grip on her. "It was fucking worth it because we can't let monsters like you win." She spat at him.
Before Emmeline knew it, the Death Eater had retreated and she was being forced back. She heard something snap as her elbow hit the wall, and she heard several more cracks as the rest of her body collided against the stone. Then there were falling debris. Rocks? Emmeline glanced up blearily, blood and sweat obscuring her vision, and she had barely enough time to cast a Shield Charm to prevent herself from being crushed.
Aquila wiped his mask with his sleeve, watching as the wall fell. Whether she had survived or not, he had made his point. He dashed away while he could, looking around and realising that the DMLE was beginning to advance, and not wanting to wager that his track record of dodging spells would continue.
The air was heavy and thick beneath the rubble, Emmeline mustered all her remaining strength to push the Shield Charm upwards. She can't let that Death Eater go. She can't die yet. Not yet. With a final push, she dislodged the pile of rubble that buried her. Breathing heavily, Emmeline stumbled forwards, feeling the full brunt of pain from the broken bones and bruises that her encounter left her. The fight around her was still going in full force but there was no sign of the Death Eater. Cursing under her breath, Emmeline kicked a pile of rocks beside her and winced in pain as she realised that she had twisted her ankle as well. Exhausted, she collapsed on the grass, momentarily at peace. He knew her. That fucking monster knew her.
THREAD THREE - DEs DESTROY HOGWARTS GROUNDS
(Reg, Barty, Nott, Dolph, Gaius)
With the chaos whirling around him, Regulus lifted his wand and scanned the surrounding area, picking out those who were dueling with the vigilantes and Aurors that had arrived to try and control the situation. The Death Eaters were here to make a statement, and a statement they would make, no matter the waves of people who desired to interfere.
Their enemies were not presently inflicting themselves on Regulus's group, however, so rather than focusing the destruction of one person, he settled to keep a glancing eye on anyone else around him and start in on the destruction of the general area. They would be leaving their mark. Taking his first move, Regulus fired an Incendio at a nearby tree, watching as it burst into flames, wrapping around the bark and licking its way up the branches until it reached the very top.
Aeneas watched the flames through his mask as they climbed up the tree, lighting up the area so he could see the grounds of Hogwarts much clearer. It had been years since he was last inside the gates, and he could not say he particularly missed it. The term had started and though it was well past curfew for the students inside the castle, there were still a few flickering candles visible through the windows. Perhaps a student up late reading, oblivious to the destruction that was occurring just a few hundred yards away.
"Shall we light this place up like it's daytime?" Aeneas asked the others as he too lit a tree on fire. "Let's make this place burn enough that we wake up Gryffindor and Ravenclaw."
A good idea if ever there was one. Rodolphus kept his eye on the battle at the gates, but turned his attentions upon the school when he was satisfied they were not going to be ambushed from behind (the girls also doubled as lookouts, so they were (relatively) safe). The castle loomed above them, as imposing as it was when he was several feet shorter and quite a few decades younger. His alma mater. His first step toward greatness. Now a burden with a mudblood loving headmaster and corrupted lessons. It was sickening.
With his wand trained upon the statues that lead to main entry-staircase, Rodolphus concentrated, and with a violent deprimo, turned a rather regal looking lion into a shower of rock and dust.
But Hogwarts wasn't going to fall so easily.
Even as its brother littered the ground, the opposing statue rumbled, and twisted, before coming to life before their very eyes. This was ancient magic, and Rodolphus's eyes lit up in an academic sort of delight, even as the statue forced him backward.
Yes, of course, fire was a delightful thing in its own right, and Barty hardly underestimated its use; burning trees, though, hardly seemed to be a productive pursuit when there were so many other things that needed to be done. Personally, he held no grudge against Hogwarts whatsoever -- it had offered him some sort of reprieve from dealing with his pathetic fool of a father (who did not deserve to call himself a father, as Antonin had put it before); it had brought him friends who were not solely interested in the benefits that supposedly came from befriending the DMLE Head's son; it had given him the proper grounding for his education -- but he was not so loyal to it as to think that Dumbledore was not a taint on it or that its lessons could not have been better. Hopefully, they would not be called upon to destroy the library; that, if anything, was the most salvageable and valuable part of the entire school and Barty had far too many memories associated with it to destroy it in any kind of good conscience. Besides, one did not just injure books; it was savage and wretched, even just to think of doing something so wicked.
Working with both haste and efficiency, Barty took to firing Blasting Curses where he could and would have continued doing so quite peacefully had the stone lion not awakened. As unmanly as fear was, Barty was quite scared of this, but it was not every day that one saw a gigantic stone lion come to life and set itself on one's destruction. Not entirely knowing what to expect, he fired a harsh, determined Deprimo! at the beast.
The ancient magic was strong and the lion held for a moment. Aeneas added his own blasting curse in with Barty's and soon the beast toppled, and he nodded at Barty approvingly. He wasn't sure if the animated lion was finished, but it didn't move for a few seconds and Aeneas turned his attention elsewhere.
--
As exciting as this whole healing business was, and as important as Corbina knew their job might be before long, there was something endlessly frustrating with being told once again to stay behind, to wait out the fighting was not only boring, it was rather humiliating. She was a Lestrange. Her brothers were out there, her sister-in-law was out there, and she could hold her own against some of these pathetic vigilante sorts, she was certain of it. And besides, her O in Defense Against the Dark Arts was completely going to waste. Not that her marks in school had the slightest to do with a full-on battle. The point of the matter still stood. There were more than enough women there who were even more knowledgable in the methods of emergency healing than she was. Corbina was certain that no one would notice is she just so happened to slip away from the group, wand at the ready, more than prepared to be an actual assett to this fight. Which she was going to do riiiight about now...
It wasn't all that often that Demetrius questioned his own sanity, really. Tonight just happened to be one of those nights. The battle was raging around him and all he could do was pace in front of a cluster of women, his friends were fighting and he was looking after the women. He sighed, continuing his pacing. He had always had a problem with standing still, and the noises of the battle were seriously agitating him. He wished that he could get into the fight, but he had agreed to do this and was going to keep his word. Besides, some of these women were probably perfectly incapable of defending themselves and leaving them alone would be a death wish for him. Cursing his obvious masochistic streak, he looked around. At least none of the women had done anything reckless or gotten themselves hurt, that was a plus.
That was another part of it. Watching Demetrius pace? Not really a useful nor productive use of Corbina's time. She knew that he had a job to do where he'd been positioned though, and even if she did leave, and if Demetrius noticed her escaping into the heat of battle, it wasn't as though he could leave all the other women in order to chase after her. Sure, it wasn't fair of her, not in the slightest. But the last time Corbina had been forced to stand idley by during an attack, her father had been killed in his own home. She didn't care if this was a different scenerio. Glancing at the others around her and rising quietly to her feet, wand in hand, Corbina dashed out from around them, charging towards the fight, cursing the fact that (as usual) her height would likely get her spotted in seconds.
"Where do you think you're going?" Demetrius snapped as the flurry of motion brought his attention from the ground. Leaving was not a good idea. He would probably be in far too much trouble if one of the women left to go into battle. They could also possibly get hurt, but that was a little less pressing than the fact that he would get blamed for it. It wasn't really his fault he couldn't leave the other women, even if it was to play the hero and chase after the one who had apparently been overcome with an irrational burst of recklessness.
Corbina had to bite her tongue to keep herself from replying "to the bathroom. Haven't you ever heard of respecting a lady's privacy?" but the seriousness of the situation kept any such retorts at bay. "It's a secret," she smirked back instead, knowing that the "secret" was clearly obvious enough. She didn't have time to stand around and talk about her plans. She needed to put her plans into action, thank you very much.
Frowning, he considered this very briefly. "Don't be stupid," he started bluntly. He shifted where he stood and crossed his arms over his chest. "Now isn't really a good time for 'secrets'." Demetrius wasn't having this. "You can't possibly think this is a good idea?" he asked, sighing in exasperation. "Get back in the tent, won't you?"
"One can certainly tell from your tone that you do not," Corbina replied. No, perhaps it wasn't a good idea. Yes, she might get hurt. But if any of the Aurors or vigilantes decided to pop by the tent, they would get hurt anyway. And this was something that Corbina believed she needed to do. "I believe that Narcissa is calling for you."
"I don't hear anything," he said stubbornly, glancing towards the tent and rolling his eyes behind his mask. "Don't go out and get yourself hurt, it's pointless." This seemed like a pointless argument, he knew she'd leave no matter what he said or did to try and stop her. But the point was to try, so it didn't seem like he didn't care that she had decided to run out into battle. He did care...somewhat. "They'll be angry," he added, looking in the direction of the battle.
"I'm not going to get myself hurt," Corbina stated flatly, believing that to be more than a fact. She was fully capable of taking care of herself, a more-than-competent witch who wasn't going to let her emotions get the better of her, and to run off into the fighting without her wits about her. She knew she would be much more of an asset than a distraction to the fight, and was rather annoyed that Demetrius didn't seem to realise the same. "And they won't be angry at you if they are at all, they'll be angry at me. You've nothing to worry about."
"How can you be sure? Plenty of our people are getting hurt and most of them are just as competent as you," he pointed out. "You have orders to stay here." Demetrius wasn't amused with the back and forth. In a normal situation, he'd let her go. She could take care of herself more than any of the other women, probably, but he didn't need anyone else angry at him, and no matter what she said to the contrary, someone would blame him. His impatience was getting the best of him. "Even if they aren't angry at me, I've plenty to worry about if you're out there getting yourself killed."
"I thought I already said that I'm not going to get myself hurt. Or killed. Or anything of the sort," Corbina stated firmly, very quickly growing bored with the conversation. Her mind was made up, and he was only delaying her from doing what she already have every intention of doing with or without his permission. Maybe he'd need a bit of a distraction anyway. "You might want to duck. There's something flying at your back," Corbina informed him, pointing behind him with her wand.
"That's not really something you can be certain of," he retorted. It would probably be better for his health to let her go, at least until people realised she had run out into battle. Weighing these options, Demetrius sighed. He couldn't really force her to stay. "Just go, then. Don't waste your time talking to m-...wait...duck?" he asked, turning around quickly.
Corbina might have felt a twinge of guilt about that stone that flew up behind Demetrius, twapping him in the head (honestly, it was from the battle, she had absolutely nothing to do with it) now that he was relenting and letting her go had he not given her such a hard time previously about not leaving. As it stood, Corbina felt she'd done nothing wrong. "You might want to have one of the girls look at that; it might leave a bump," she smirked behind her mask, keeping her tone even, walking backwards out of the tent. "I'll be careful. I promise."
He glared at her behind his mask. How many more time was he going to get hit this month? "Fine. I'm holding you to that promise," he told her pointedly. "If you're going to fight, you'd better actually do damage," he added, deciding it was best to turn a blind eye from her leaving. He could pretend she had escaped and he had so valiantly tried to stop her and she was just too stubborn. But for now, he had to wonder when he had become such a push over.