Who: Aberforth, Ursula, Ciara, Seonag, Rhisiart What: Aberforth makes a verbal blunder which has unexpected effects. When: 5 July 1980, around 3.00am Where: The Hog's Head
Status: In progress Rating: PG-13 for the moment
Rhisiart looked down at the collection of shrunken trunks now being held in one larger trunk. He was frowning, something that completed the dubious look on his face. He then looked around the now-sparsely decorated room before finally resting his gaze on Aberforth.
“Are you sure about this?”
Abe snorted. “Of course I’m sure. I wouldn’t do it if I wasn’t.”
Rhisiart frowned again. “I still don’t quite understand why you are doing this.”
Abe sighed and leaned against the table beside him. “Because this war is not getting any better and you know what I intend to do. And if the worst comes to the worst, I’d rather not have anything of importance here for the Death Eaters to pick over and steal if I end up dying.”
Rhisiart’s expression became one of disapproval. “I do not like this new attitude of yours, my friend. It smacks of a death wish.”
Abe sighed and crossed his arms over his chest. “I don’t have a death wish. But if Albus’ death has done anything, it’s given me fair warning that anyone can die in this war. And if I die I want things done on my terms, not anyone else’s.”
Marlene’s death was a factor as well, Abe didn’t add. Not to mention all of the other deaths in the Order – Caradoc, Dorcas, Agnes, Benjy, Gideon, Fabian, Edgar and so on. No one was immortal and no one was safe. Especially not him, who had already nailed his colours to the mast.
Rhisiart was silent, looking down into the trunk again. Finally he nodded and closed the lid of the trunk with a dull thunk. “Very well, my friend. I will keep these things safe for you.” He raised an elegant eyebrow at Abe. “And if the worst happens and you die? What shall I do then?”
“I’ve arranged for a letter to be sent to you by owl,” Abe replied, relaxing a little now that Rhisart had agreed to do things his way. “That’ll have the instructions for what is to be done.”
Rhisiart nodded. “And what if you are captured?”
“Guard everything and do what you think best. Try and clear out what’s left in here if you can but don’t put yourself at risk. There’s nothing in here of any particular value now,” Abe said promptly. “If necessary, get the hell out of England. The closed borders won’t stop you. I’ve known you long enough to know that.”
Rhisiart looked faintly amused. “I am a vampire. It is a foolish person who tries to stop one of us.”
Abe chuckled. “I’m counting on that. Voldemort might think...”
Whatever it was that Abe thought Voldemort was thinking was never said. Instead he cried out in agony and sank to his knees, clutching at his head, magic backlashing through him as every ward he’d ever placed around the Hog’s Head was ripped to shreds in an instant. Pain and confusion were all he could feel as he collapsed to the floor.
Rhisiart rushed over and went to one knee beside him. “Abe? Aberforth?”
Blackness was creeping up on the edges of Abe’s vision but he forced it away, forced his eyes to stay open. He clutched at Rhisiart’s sleeve desperately. “Go! Go now!” Rhisiart hesitated and Abe’s grip tightened before he shoved the vampire away as best as he could. He didn’t know what had happened or how but he knew that the results, whatever they were to be beyond what had already happened, could not be good. “GO!”
The vampire stared at Abe for the barest moment then leapt to his feet. He grabbed the trunk, lifting it as though it weighed less than a feather, then he hurried out of the room. Abe didn’t watch him go but instead fumbled in his robes for his wand as he shook and shuddered with pain, his mind fogged and dull.
At camp, Ursula's detector-thingy sprang to life. So someone had finally broken the taboo! Finally! She had been so bored lately. Now she just needed someone to get her to the location so they could apprehend the "wrong-doer". It amused her to no end that they were the "good guys". Or were supposed to be. Whatever.
Ducking out of her tent, she put a hand on her hip and looked around. "Ciara, you want to go do something fun?" she asked the younger wolf, who wasn't far away at all. "We need someone to Appa- whatever," she added loudly, sounding oddly comfortable being the boss. She didn't want one of those idiot Death Eaters coming along, they were more useless than an untrained pup, dammit.
Ciara perked up her head at the sound of Ursula's voice, and smiled. "Are wes gonna arrest someone?" she asked, noting the detector. She had been hoping someone would break the taboo ever since she had first read Fenrir's entry about it. And she was always up for something fun, especially if it involved beating someone up.
"There's one o' them Death Eater laddies o'er there," she pointed out, gesturing towards where she'd seen one the hulking great brutes that were there merely for transportation purposes. "Anyone else comin'?"
Seonag had been waiting for an opportunity to do something exciting for a while now. Not that things in Knockturn Alley were usually exciting, but life in the Dark Army camp tended to get a little... lazy and lacksadaisical these days, and the werewolves were always the ones who got to have the most fun. But things were looking up, because the werewolves, mostly, couldn't Apparate.
"I'll take you there," she interjected, waddling over to where Ciara and Ursula were. "I can pop in an outta places." She grinned, baring her mossy teeth, wondering if those pregnant women had had their babies yet. This had the potential to be very tasty. "You each take one of my arms and hope none of you gets left here."
"Yeah we got someone to arrest, Ciara," she said, smiling slightly. "And good woman, Seonag. Don't wanna take none of these dumbass men with us to be honest," she added in an undertone, glaring at the Death Eater slightly before taking Seonag's arm in her hand.
"Don't leave any bit of us behind or I'll take it up with the bossman," Ursula joked, waggling a finger at the old hag. "Ciara's still growing, losing a bit of her would set her back a few years." Laughing, she patted the younger werewolf on the back. "Anyway. Let's get going."
Despite the fact that she didn't particularly appreciate the reference to her size and age, Ciara didn't have time to respond as she took the offered arm and popped out of Wales and into Hogsmeade. Reeling a little from the journey (she still hadn't gotten used to this Apparition business), she looked around. They were directly outside the Hog's Head. Oh, goodie! It must be the crazy old man who ran it that they were here to arrest.
It was only two days until the full moon, and Ciara felt lithe and strong as she scurried into the pub. Normally she wouldn't want to take on someone like Aberforth on her own, but she had Ursula (who was much more experienced than her) and Seonag (who was.... a hag, but they had magic, kind of) with her and felt confident. Immediately she noticed the old man on the floor, and bared her teeth, ready to attack. She was assuming they weren't allowed to kill him, but hopefully she could at least knock out a couple of teeth.
Abe's head was pounding and his body aching from the backlash but he'd managed to stave off enough of the effects to at least notice the girl when she came into the room. He didn't recognise her though he was dimly aware that she was young. He didn't let that stop him though. She couldn't be anything other than a Death Eater or even one of their werewolf lackeys, perhaps even a vampire. He pointed his wand at her with a shaking hand and croaked out, "Stupefy." Unfortunately the spell lacked most of his usual strength, let alone any accuracy.
Seonag had followed Ciara into the Hog's Head as quickly as she could, and a Shield Charm went up, spurting from her fingers, and she gave a wheezy cackle when Abe's Stunner bounced off of it, protecting Ciara from the spell which she knew she couldn't lift. Usually, it didn't work this well. She was actually rather proud of herself. "Not as young as I like 'em," she muttered, taking in Abe's appearance. Damn, he was old. And this coming from a hag. Ah, well. A liver was a liver was a liver. "But he'll do." She reached out two hands and grasped one of Abe's upper arms, dragging him to his feet.