InsaneJournal

Moody's Speech

Moody could feel it in his bones -- the time had come. Their traps were lain and each one of them was as ready as they were ever going to be. They knew something that most of the Dark Lord's lackeys did not -- they were alone with their own evil. There was no master to rush in and save the servants when the Order and the Army of Albion were done with them. He was sure he could already smell the heavy copper scent of blood issuing up from the grounds of Hogwarts, where there were sure to be casualties by the time this was over.

They had one goal -- victory, and damn the consequences. He had spend his entire life fighting Darkness, had even used it to his own gain on more than one occasion, and now this verse could be over -- this madness could succumb and they would be the bearers of revolutionary change with the Dark Lord dead and his minions at their mercy.

Bolstered by the thought, Moody turned to look at those who would be fighting to meet this end.

"Before we depart into chaos, I would like to say a few words," he said, touching his wand to his throat to cast Sonorus so that he could be heard.

"I know many of you are scared and you'd be out of your minds not to be. Some of us will die today, some of us may lose more yet than we've lost in the last year and a half of fighting. Exchange your hugs and kisses now, because you may never have another chance. But before you doubt your convictions, remind yourselves that what you do today may dictate the future of generations yet to come. Your cause is the noblest of all causes -- the eradication of evil from the country to which we have all dedicated our service. If some of us may die, I say there is no better, no more honourable a way to do it.

"The course of the future -- for those of us who survive and for those who still have futures in their sights -- is waiting for us to steer it. We have only one enemy standing in our way -- one enemy to be defeated before order is free to be restored. The Dark Lord is dead. These men and women we fight today are mortals, no greater than yourselves. They can be killed as easily as we can. Fight like your lives depend on it, because they do. As so do the lives of everyone to follow. You may see sides of yourself that you have never known existed. You may do and say things you think come from the blackness of your soul. But I ask you to trust in the goodness of your own deeds -- aim to kill. The end justifies the means."

His remaining human eye gleamed with determination as he turned to look toward the gate, behind which he knew there were Death Eaters waiting. But he felt no fear -- this was what he had been born to do, the justice that each of them had been born to inflict. There was an electricity to the feeling of victory, the potential of which was finally in their grasps. Blood would be spilled today, but tomorrow -- tomorrow the sun would rise.

"For too long, we have watched our loved ones suffer at the hands of evil. For too long, we have watched its deliverers deceive, drag our names through the mud for standing up when others have cowered. Today we fight -- for those we have lost must not go unavenged. Today we fight and win, whatever the cost. Today we string those bastards up by the coils of their own stinking guts and free the people of Britain from fear and tyranny. Today will be the last time they look at us and say 'it's the goddamned terrorists again and those sons-of-fucking-bitches Moody and Scrimgeour'. Today, we mavericks, we pioneers of retribution, show those mother-fuckers that we've had enough.

"Fear no darkness as we move forward into peril. I am proud to have known and fought alongside each and every one of you. You will go down in history as the greatest heroes this era has known. Godspeed and constant vigilance!

"On my command, unleash hell."

And with the drop of his arm, its gates were opened.

Death Eaters & Supporters Arrive

There was at least some part of Atticus's mind that recognised that this was not right. That this was a fool's errand and they were most certainly playing the part of the fool. But the voice that offered these thoughts of reason was drowned out by anger and disbelief.

The Dark Lord was dead.

Atticus felt as if their society, all that they had worked to build, their very world itself had been spiralling out of control for the last month. In truth, ever since Rodolphus's death. And he knew that he had played more than his part in that. One poor decision after another, giving into drunken impulse over the reason he so prided himself upon. And now they had hit bottom. He did not possibly see how matters could get any worse. They had to fix it. Even with the loss of their leader, with the death of the man who they so revered, they could not falter in their work for his cause. The cause would endure and it was to them to set things right. And despite his misgivings, he could not think of no alternative to suggest. There did not seem to be any other way.

As the other Death Eaters began to appear around him just outside the Hogwarts gates, Atticus did his best to control the growing chaos that came from so many being summoned to battle with no warning. Instructions were given, attempts to instill order among the chaos were made but after so many shouted commands were ignored, he abandoned his exercise in futility and prepared himself to fight.

Scabior came with his pack and was quite looking forward to the fight. He didn't know if they were supposed to wait for orders (though really it would be Fenrir getting orders and then him doing whatever Fenrir said) or what, so he hesitated near the front gate, peering into the grounds as more death eaters showed up. As they did, it was obvious that they had no fucking idea what they were doing -- which was just spiffy to him. There was yelling from several directions and conflicting orders and since there seemed to be plenty of people rushing forward he decided he sure as hell wasn't going to miss out on anything. With a cheerful noise, he bounded forward, searching for the first person to knock over!

Graley didn't know what to think about all of this, being called was not something he was expecting at this point, but here he was, ready to fight. Although his first instinct had been to leave, he didn't know what to think about anything going on right now. He wanted to protect his own hide, made sure that he was fine, and that was all that was important.

Barty had still been serving his morning shift in Tinworth when the call to gather at Hogwarts had gone out, and though he was still half-asleep from having been awake for the last fourteen hours or so, he wasted no time in Apparating immediately outside Hogwarts' gates as he had been ordered. The chaos upon his arrival, however, came as a great surprise to him -- surely the Dark Lord's forces were more organised than this, rather than behaving like the terrorists? But in seconds, that fleeting moment of doubt was suppressed, albeit with a slight uneasy feeling in his stomach he didn't like and therefore didn't acknowledge, even in his subconscious -- it was not his place to doubt the commands of the Inner Circle and the will of their Lord; the seeming lack of a plan must be the plan itself in order to confuse the enemy. And with that, Barty prepared himself to fight, sobering up as adrenaline began to course through him in his anticipation and excitement to prove himself to his master.

If he could have his way, Andrew knew he wouldn't even be here in the first place -- after Fenrir's outburst weeks ago and how it had become obvious that the Death Eaters were never going to give the werewolves complete freedom, yet would continue keeping them leashed in their service, he had his doubts about whether it was really worth staying in the pack (for what reasons, he didn't know) or if he and Dan should have left as they had discussed earlier. And now he was here with the rest of the Dark Army in a situation where no one seemed to know what the bloody hell was going on about what they were doing or why they were here, and now people were running through the gate anyway? He didn't want to get in trouble for seeming cowardly again, so he grudgingly followed after the more enthusiastic werewolves who had gone ahead.

Daniel was happily unaware of his surroundings -- or at least the gravity of them. It was almost as though this were any other day and any other attack and he was just doing what he did best -- following suit.

Bellatrix could not remember the last time she had a proper night's sleep, as shifts in Tinworth had been overstayed in the name of riot suppression, although her own actions had undoubtedly done more to incite panic than quell it. But that did not matter now. The old men had finally decided it was time for a proper fight and the thought of destroying the vigilantes who had locked themselves in the castle was far more exciting than the indiscriminate killing of villagers. Bellatrix was, unsurprisingly, not disturbed by the chaos that tore through the gathering Death Eaters. No, she revelled in it. Her wand was clenched tightly in her hand and her desire for vengeance against those who stood against them, destruction of all they held dear and victory for the Dark Lord were the only thoughts in her mind. As the gates were opened, she did not hesitate, charging through and onto the grounds.

It was odd to be called to arms without a direct order from Him. To Walden it almost felt like they were being rebellious teenagers, choosing to provoke their targets away from the watchful eye of those with the higher power. They were all alone now. There was no one watching over them, commanding them to be victorious in HIS honour.

Now they were in charge. They would be merciless and those who dared to oppose the Dark Lord would die. The true and loyal servants would be standing at the end of it all, looking out over a sea of the people who would no longer fight against what was proper.

Narcissa arrived with Lucius, her arms full of Healing supplies and a box that would supposedly turn into a triage tent. Truth be told, she was less than thrilled to be here at the moment (what if the nanny forgot something on the long list? What if Draco was crying?), but she wasn't about to leave the direction of the ladies to someone else. With a final glance at her husband and a final wish for his safety, she began parceling out the supplies. "Claudette, Lucinda, if one of you could set up the tent, I would certainly appreciate it. Julianne, Anzhelina -- here are the potions. We will, of course, need to set up a list for taking turns to leave and search for the wounded - if you need anything, send up green sparks."

Lucinda arrived quickly, without much thought to leaving Daphne with the nanny. The child was over seven months old now, she would be quite content spending the day in her crib doing whatever it was seven month year old children did with their time. The nanny was competent enough and if anything dire were to happen, her father was at the manor and he could take care of things for once in his life. There were far more important things to tend to here on the battlefield. She did not have time to think about Daphne.

Narcissa was already passing out commands, and Lucinda was quick on her heels. "Of course, Narcissa." She took the box from the woman’s hands and turned to her aunt. "Come, aunt, I believe we can set up the tent a few yards that way." With her aunt behind her, tent box in one hand, and her personal potions kit in the other, Lucinda moved to the grassy area and placed the box on the ground. She spoke the spell, flicked her wand, and out from the box came a rather large tent. Satisfied with her results, she returned to her aunt with a smile, "Shall we go inside and begin a primary inspection?"

Finally, Claudette was getting to participate in one of these...skirmishes. She had no intention of letting Aeneas go off on his own again, not after fire had destroyed their home and their lives were thrown into so much turmoil. She hated leaving the children with a nanny, particularly when Theodore was still getting over his croup, but it had to be done, for the Cause, and if she was asked, she knew that she would be honest in saying that there was no other place that she would rather be. Working with Lucinda, of whom she was rather fond, instead of one of the other ladies (she thought briefly of Anastasia) made it even better. "Oui. A primary inspection would be a good idea, I sink," Claudette agreed with her niece and pushed aside the flap that led into the triage tent.

She was pleased with what she saw: cots set up and spaced far enough apart to move easily and quickly between them, a few rooms in the back (perhaps for patients who were in a worse state than others), counters for the supplies and plenty of light. "Zis will do very nicely," she commented with a smile to Lucinda. "Zough I am sure we will prevail and will not need this space very much." It was, of course, something that Claudette simply could not know, but giving her niece hope was important...giving hope to anyone who would listen was important.

The interior of the tent met Lucinda's standards as well. She was certain that they were far more prepared and well supplied than those awful terrorists who inhabited the school at the moment. She felt almost silly holding her personal potions kit from home, but it had seemed like a good idea at the time. One never knew what would be necessary during times of battle, even if she was sure her aunt was correct. They would prevail. They had to.

She looked to her aunt with a smile, taking comfort in the brief calm before the battle began. She knew that soon silence would be unlikely and the fresh scent in the air would quickly diminish, but at this very moment, with her aunt beside her, Lucinda could sense the fates were on their side. "It will be an honour to work beside you Aunt Claudette. Please do be careful."

Claudette gently took Lucinda's hand and squeezed comfortingly. "You be careful as well. When zis is over, we shall 'ave tea at my 'ouse to celebrate," she smiled at the younger girl before turning to the work of setting up the tents for the incoming storm.

Lavinia arrived with Gaius and Seraphina and was immediately confused and lost to the shuffle. Death eaters were running everywhere -- her brother's friends, boys she'd known since she was a child -- and she felt a sudden rise of panic before she saw a familiar, tall blonde. "Narcissa!" She cried out, glancing around for Gaius and then moving towards the other women. She didn't know what she was supposed to do. She could heal -- she'd had enough practise when Gaius came home bloodied up and frightening.

Narcissa turned away from giving orders upon hearing her name. "Lavinia! You can heal some, I hope? We can always use help." Not that any of them were terribly qualified - self taught from relatives and books at best. But of course, injuries often came home and St Mungo's would ask far too many questions. "If you and Evangeline -- I believe I just saw her -- can help organise the supplies, that would be wonderful. Though I daresay I will be very grateful if we hardly need any of it."

Lavinia didn't want to stay here. She wanted to go find Gaius. But she did as she was told and nodded, moving to Narcissa's side and collecting up a parcel of healing supplies. She quietly conjured a small table and began to unpack, desperately shuffling things into piles before she couldn't take it any more -- "Narcissa, Mrs Malfoy," she said, flustered, "will anybody be going to help them?" Into the field. She didn't know how she was brave enough to want to go. She wasn't really, but she knew she needed to make sure her brother was all right.

"Yes," Narcissa replied grimly. She had been trying to forget about that part of the job, while at the same time wishing Lucius had remembered the two-way mirror she had given him last year. "We help them, taking turns looking for the injured or staying behind with the supplies. But of course, as carefully as possible. I know you must be worried about Gaius -- I am worried for Lucius as well, but we must have faith in their abilities."

Lavinia nodded, though the anxiety twisted in her stomach. Bandages, potions, scalpels (at these she shuddered), and various other tools were more carefully sorted into neat lines. "When I am done here would it be all right if I went out with the first turn?" I want to find him. At least Narcissa understood the worry rather than claiming everything would be all right. Lavinia knew better for the first time in her life. Things would not be okay. "I'll be very careful, I promise."

"You may." Narcissa was feeling simultaneously relieved that she did not have to go out first and guilty that Lavinia was so eager to. "Not for very long, though, as I do hope this will all be over soon." She turned her attention back to the supervising the tent and supplies - at least they were beginning with the proper amounts of everything.

"Is this really all we're expected to do?" she asked herself under her breath. Araminta was irritated by the idea of sitting in a tent and patching up the insignificant wounds of whiny children (and whiny adults, as Primus had decided to come to the fight). She was insulted at the implication that it would be the only thing they could do. "I believe I'll be better suited elsewhere, ladies," she said thoughtfully, removing her earrings and putting them in her pocket.

Evangeline was feeling a bit lost in the situation and when she spotted both Narcissa and Lavinia together she rushed towards them in as ladylike a manner as possible, reaching for Livi's elbow and clutching it for a few brief moments as she attempted to bring her wits about her. She watched in abject shock as Mrs Meliflua slipped her earrings into her pocket. "Elsewhere?" she asked, bewildered. Surely she didn't mean that she was going to fight the terrorists!

"Yes, elsewhere," she answered with a nod. Smiling at Evangeline, she then turned away from the other women. "I'll be back soon enough," she added with a vague wave of her hand, and then she walked away in the direction the Death Eaters had gone.

Anastasia, for her part, was not terribly happy about being at the site of a battle. As far as she was concerned, this was no place for a woman, and there were Healers and Mediwitches (after all, St Mungo's was supposed to be on their side) who could heal. She didn't know any sorts of medical spells, and it didn't seem very productive for her to be here. As she stepped into the triage tent, smoothing her hair after having parted with Iago and Demetrius, she walked past Araminta and gave her a curt nod. Not particularly wishing to have to go out into the battlefield, she sat down and smiled at the younger ladies, deeming not to say a word.

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