Blurred Lines Mods (blurred_mods) wrote in blurred_lines, @ 2009-08-31 17:23:00 |
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THE FINAL BATTLE [01] [02] [03] [04] [05] [06] [07] [08] [09] [10] [11] [12] [13] [14]
The boat houses
Severus Snape was fighting on the other side of the line. He'd prepared himself mentally for the fact that for once, he wasn't wearing a mask and he would be fighting people who would be very angry with him, people who he had worked closely with and had a camaraderie with, and he was certain it would be difficult, but he'd never backed down from difficult before, and he was also confident he was doing what was right. He didn't know what the outcome of this battle would be but he cleared his mind of the confusion and worry - and between Agatha and Lily, both of whom would be fighting today, there was worry - and moved towards the boat houses his eyes alert. The squid would be there and they would need to be careful so that they weren't injured by the Giant Squid, but with any luck the animal would prove a help not a hindrance. Severus looked around to see who else was in the area and out of the corner of his eyes caught the glimpse of a Death Eater and he didn't waste any time but instead pointed his wand at the approaching figure. Now was Severus going to waste his time with anything remotely resembling a light spell, but instead he began immediately with a heavily focused blasting curse aimed directly at the Death Eater's chest. "Deprimo." Sturgis wasn't sure how he felt about this whole fighting-alongside-someone-who-used-to-b Clamouring off in the same direction, Sturgis cast a shield spell around himself before aiming his wand at Macmillan, shooting a blasting curse at the death eater before ducking back behind one of the boathouse walls for protection. Anger was hardly the word to describe how Beathan was currently feeling. Rage was a more appropriate term and that was saying something, as he never truly let his emotions get away with him. However, Rodolphus had trusted the young man he was stalking toward, and to find him to be a traitor was beyond anything he could imagine. The blasting curses came streaming toward him, but Beathan cut them each down with harsh swipes of his wand. So it would be two against one. That was fine with him - the odds were probably more in his favor anyway. He was dueling with children. Severus had been expecting dislike from the Death Eaters when they realised what he'd done, but the Inner Circle specifically he knew would hate him. After all hadn't he taunted them with what he'd done? It had been his taunting that had been the catalyst to draw them here, and why wouldn't they want to see him dead, thus he wasn't particularly thrilled about ending up fighting one, but if Macmillan thought he was a child, he was very mistaken. A full year of training post Hogwarts on top of another year of training and experience made Severus Snape knowledgeable of what could happen, and perhaps ironically, his last fight on the ground of Hogwarts had made him fully understand how bad it could be. Severus didn't bother with a shield charm, instead meeting Beathan's spell with an equally forceful one of his own. "Deprimo," and the curses met mid-air spiralling off in what was akin to fireworks, and Severus snapped "Ignis Infusco," at the Death Eater, finally putting into effect some of the Dark curses he'd learned that he'd been unwilling to ever use against the Order but had absolutely no qualms using against someone who had murdered children, and oh so very many of his friends. The first of Macmillan's Impedimenta spells hit Sturgis dead on, knocking him off his feet to land hard on the mud-splattered ground. Painful as it was, the curse caused Beathan's later spells to miss their mark, colliding with a tree behind him before disappearing into nothingness. Sturgis took advantage of what was very clearly some intense bad blood between the Inner Circle death eater and the former death eater, recooperating for a moment before charging back into a fight. In comparison to some of the spells they were throwing, Sturgis's did feel a bit childish, but his blasting curses and leg-locker curses had stood the test of time, getting him at least this far, and he cast both spells at Macmillan once he'd picked himself back up off the ground. Some distance away, there was the sound of clicks and flashbulbs going off, as well as the faint flares of lights every minute or so. Adelaide Greengrass, who was almost certainly better known in public as either a former <i>Daily Prophet</i> photographer or the Wife (of journalist Jeremiah Smith), had hidden herself under a Disillusionment Charm -- there was absolutely no way she was going to risk making herself a target for these mad Death Eaters and vigilantes if she could help it -- and had been snapping photographs of the chaos that had broken out all over the grounds of Hogwarts since the gates had been open. While she wasn't remotely interest in getting herself killed, she couldn't pass up the opportunity to cover a story like this -- and with that, she had left her flat with a note for her husband to remind him to at least feed their baby son, Zacharias, while she was gone. Near the boathouses was a duel between an older man and two younger wizards, one of whom had an impressive nose and the other being a little more rotund. She snapped a few photographs of the trio as spells flew back and forth between them, and she wished she didn't have her hands full so that she could get her wand out -- to throw up a shield if necessary to protect herself, obviously, not to fight like a reckless vigilante; she wasn't an idiot like her husband was, after all. Beathan sneered as the flames licked at his robes, searing his skin underneath. "Finite incantatem," he said calmly, the flames immediately dissipating. Child's play. If Severus was trying to convince Beathan that he was no more than a child, then he was doing a poor job - at least in the older man's eyes. Beathan's superiority complex was in full gear, and he went to stalk forward to cast a spell at Severus but just then his legs locked together. It would take a moment and he didn't want to think about what was happening to Podmore while he was working on it, but he drew up a small pail, setting it working on the earth in front of him. Then he turned slightly, casting expulso at the earth behind him and turning around to shield himself from the dirt and stone that might go flying away with the spell that he hoped would be not quite so harsh as a blasting spell and yet still allow him to get out in one piece. The blast of black light managed to absorb its way through Sturgis's shield charm (he'd somehow convinced himself that the Death Eater would be concentrating his major attacks on paying back Snape) which weakened the spell slightly, but that was little comfort for the pain and the fear that overcame Sturgis as the Blood Draining Curse hit. He toppled to the ground, eyes going wide as blood started to swell up and out from his skin through the palms of his hands and down from his hairline. He slashed his wand in the direction of the Death Eater, casting "DIFFINDO" and "EXPELLIARMUS" before his hands grew too slick to keep hold of his wand and his eyes began to well up. What the fuck kind of twisted dark magic could do this? Beathan easily deflected the first spell and sidestepped the second, though that lifted the Blood Draining Curse from the pathetic lump of a man. How easily had he fallen? The elder Death Eater's lips curled into a sort of smile, if one could call it that, and he brought his wand back to the man, "Angor," he cast again, almost lazily. No, this wasn't the subject of his hatred, but with Severus momentarily out of the way, he would make the other man's companion suffer. And suffer greatly. It was a toss-up between sectumsempra and the cruciatus, but at the moment Severus felt Macmillan was too good for sectumsempra. He might like the cruciatus the least of the unforgivables and he might feel as if it was the most genuinely nasty and least able to be used in any way resembling good, but that didn't mean he was above using it. And months of anger and hatred (both self, and of the Death Eaters he'd watched destroy friends lives) were more than enough to make the curse extremely painful. "Crucio!" The Unforgivable went straight towards the distracted Inner Circle death eater and if it hit, Severus intended on making it last for as long as he could possibly maintain it. The bastard deserved it. The single good thing about the Throat Compression Curse, if one could really find anything good about a spell that made a person feel as though they were drowning, is that if the spell missed the victim's throat it thankfully became harmless. And as it worked out for Sturgis, who's instinct was to get the hell out of the way as soon as the blood draining curse had been broken off, his twisting on the ground caused the beam of orange light to connect innocuously with one of his arms instead. He felt much weaker and peakish than he would've wished to be this early on in the fight, and tried quite hard to ignore that the pooling of blood around him had come from his own body as he turned his wand on the death eater. Obviously Severus had had a bit more practice at the unforgivable curses than the travel agent had, but Sturgis could attempt to help keep Macmillan in place. With a wave of his wand he drew up a few roots from one of the nearby trees, sending them to grab the death eater's legs to hold him where he was. Macmillan cursed as the spell missed and went to cast again when Severus' spell hit him unawares. It had taken Severus a shorter amount of time than Beathan had anticipated to escape the earthen barrier, but that thought was shoved far from his mind as pain shot through his body like a bolt of lightning. It wasn't the first time he had experienced the Cruciatus, but it had been quite some time and his aging body was not handling it well. Evangeline had watched the fight progress, huddled behind a nearby tree with her mouth agape in a very unladylike manner as her mind raced to make sense of what was happening. She didn't recognise the portly fellow, but the other two were very familiar faces and she still couldn't quite wrap her mind around Severus Snape throwing curses at what was meant to be one of his own! Digging her fingertips into the rough bark of the tree, she winced as each spell met its mark and felt especially sorry for poor Mr Macmillan. The entire afternoon was becoming an eye-opening experience and she wanted nothing more than to return home, bury her face in her mother's skirts, and close her eyes against it. It was too much for her to bear. She gasped as the two men trapped Mr Macmillan and tortured him, darting forward without thinking because they were using an Unforgivable curse on him and what would her brother think if she allowed an acquaintance of his to be tortured into madness while she hid behind a tree like a coward. "Stop!" was all she managed to cry before she stepped carelessly in front of Severus's next spell. Pain and blood bloomed at her side and she stumbled from the very shock of what had happened. She touched a hand to her side and could only stare wide-eyed at the person responsible for the deep gash in her side. She knew she should do something about the roots holding the older gentleman captive, but she was bleeding and was having difficulty thinking of anything but herself. Picture after picture was snapped as the Wife continued to stay off to the side under her Disillusionment Charm. This was arguably much more dangerous than taking those photographs when Ottery St Catchpole was over-run by the DMLE's 'rehabilitated' werewolves two Saturdays ago -- at least there weren't spells flying around then, and she could stay safe then by keeping her distance and getting ready to Apparate at a moment's notice. She now had some rather interesting photographs of strangely heatless black fire, the larger man spontaneously leaking blood somehow, and the individual fighting on his own being Cruciated -- though she had photographed the after-effects of the curse before, this was the first time she had seen it in action. And then the silly girl who ran out of nowhere to help him was hit with an unfamiliar, but rather painful and messy-looking spell -- the cruel part of her she shared with her husband, though she would never admit it, wondered if she was a Gryffindor and took self-satisfaction in knowing she would never be so stupid as to do something that reckless. And instead of running in to help her, she snapped a picture of her as she bled. The pain was suddenly gone, though his body ached and groaned as he tried to move. He was too old for this. However, his senses snapped to attention as to why the Cruciatus had been lifted. "No!" He quickly severed the roots that bound him and was at Evangeline's side though his body protested loudly. "Evangeline?" Oh, Merlin's beard, Walden was going to have his hide. His attention moved to the girl who'd been helping the death eater. He felt guilty over seeing her hurt -- it was one thing if the girl was throwing spells at him, and another thing entirely if she'd simply just gotten in the way -- but he didn't want to give her a chance to start actively fighting against Severus and him either. It was Eva Macnair, hmm? Well that was certainly a rude way to repay him after Sturgis had invited her to one of his dinner parties a few months back. Conjuring up several pastries, biscuits, crumpets, cupcakes, and croissants from the dirt, sticks, and stones around him (they likely would taste exactly like the things they've been transfigured from, but the desserts certainly had the look down), with a cry of "oppugno!" Sturgis sent the barrage of baked goods shooting towards Evangeline hoping to drive her out of the way and away from the fight. Severus would have been more horrified about hitting Evangeline Macnair with something as strong as sectumsempra had the girl not just ran out in the middle of a battle. "You foolish girl," he hissed under his breath. What in Merlin's name did the Death Eaters mean sending girls out in the middle of a battlefield without even instructions to cast shield charms around them as they ran? The Death Eater seemed to have no qualms about sending unforgivables and very nasty hexes at Podmore and Severus couldn't help but wonder whether that was simply because Macmillan was saving the really torturous stuff for Severus. He really didn't want to give him a chance to find out. Had Severus known Macmillan's thoughts about his blood status having any say in his ability to hold a curse, he would have gladly shown Macmillan just how long a halfblood could hold a cruciatus, but as it was he simply slashed away Macmillan's spell - or attempted too - the stupefy hit his right arm and he could feel the sensation of being turned into a statue of solid stone. Clumsy, Severus, he scolded himself, hissing "Finite incantatem," at it, uncertain if it would even work as immovable as his wand hand currently was. Eva had barely registered Mr Macmillan's words to flee when she suddenly found herself accosted by baked goods. Her mouth fell open again and was promptly filled with a pastry that tasted exactly like dirt, which she very quickly spat back out in indignation. Though her side twinged painfully and she was still shocked that she'd been hit at all, she was now also thoroughly outraged. How dare this portly fellow use food as a weapon! There wasn't much time to dwell on that, though, as she soon found herself covered in frostings and fillings of various sorts. With her mouth firmly shut to prevent any other baked goods from entering it against her will, she backed away from the men and resumed hiding behind a tree. She hoped they wouldn't attack her again, but she kept her wand at the ready and a Shield charm on the tip of her tongue just in case. Mr Macmillan had told her to head for the gates, but she had a purpose to serve and if she fled then who would see to his injuries? Baked goods, even if they weren't actually edible, were not quite what the Wife had expected to take a photograph of in the middle of a raging battle to the death between murderous Death Eaters and the supposed terrorists -- silly rubbish like that had always been meant for the vapid society photographers -- but there they were flying at the girl who had run out into the fight earlier. A few flashes went off in dulled sparks under the Disillusionment Charm, and Eva's assault-by-pastry was immortalised for posterity. Attacking Evangeline was unforgivable in Beathan's mind and he turned his wand on Sturgis. He cast a spell he had found many years ago, and though the man would not realize the depth of the spell - he would later. The man would never have a restful sleep again in his life. He then cast a Protego Horribilis around Eva and then cast Stupefy at Sturgis. Severus was grateful to see Evangeline go. Although he had no particular love for her or Lavinia Travers that didn't particularly mean that he wanted to see them get hurt. In his mind they were silly girls who had no concept of reality, but he supposed they were getting a rude awakening today weren't they? He hoped she would stay hidden behind the tree while he turned his attention back to Macmillan who was the real problem at hand. "Sectumsempra", he slashed at the other man following it again with an ignis infusco. Beathan gave a brief triumphant smile when his first spell hit. It was only a matter of time before the other man realized the severity of the spell. He took a step forward just as the glacius spell was cast and ended up on his back. He threw up a protection charm which deflected most of the slicing spells, but a gouging spell broke through and took out a chunk of his calf, and Severus' spell sliced him across the neck. He brought his wand up to heal as much of the wound as he could as blood began to pour, but then there were flames. It was getting ridiculous, Severus thought irritably, quickly snapping up a shield charm and casting an expelliarmus, which while a simple spell, would certainly make things easier right about now and he hated to see Podmore get harmed any more. Severus had to admit that although the Order member might not have had as many Dark curses as Severus knew, he'd been creative and fast and remarkably helpful to have beside him as they fought. He'd have to tell the man so, assuming they both lived through this. "Cruorem Lacrimo," Severus cast the spell at Macmillan. It was time for the Death Eater to feel what he'd done to the Order member. In this case, the payback might not be quite as expertly cast as Macmillan could have done, but Macmillan was weak enough at this point that Severus doubted it would matter. The giant squid's tentacle knocked Beathan down, the impact on the ground causing his head to snap backward, and the inadequate healing spell he had cast earlier split open. While it blocked and caused Sturgis' spell to miss, blood spilled from his neck, and then Severus' second spell hit him. It was like he could feel his lifeforce draining out of him. Already weak, his body too old for such heavy battle, his breath came in short and gasping. Beaten by a halfblood. He swallowed hard, pain coursing to the end of his fingertips to the end of his toes. He looked up at the sky above him and his wand rolled off his fingers, never to be used again. Someone actually dying right in front of her was the Wife's cue to get the hell out before another one of them met a similar fate -- preferably not her, although she couldn't honestly say she would have cared at all if any of the other three foolishly did themselves in. And who knew the giant squid she used to antagonise all the time was some sort of killer calamari beneath its usual nature as an out-of-place oddity in the lake? She snapped one last photograph of the Death Eater's blood-drained corpse before re-casting her Disillusionment Charm on herself and running for the gate, knocking over one of the Hogsmeade villagers who had shown up to help as she did so. Horror-struck, Eva could only cling to the trunk of her tree as she watched the two terrorists extinguish poor Mr Macmillan in a most gruesome manner. She swallowed hard and clutched again at the tree's bark as she fought the urge to run to him again. There was a possibility he might be okay, wasn't there? But after several moments it was obvious that he was gone for good. She choked back cries of anguish because she had failed him so miserably and simply turned away form the scene, running towards triage as quickly as her feet would carry her. Nevermind that it was unladylike and that the pain and dampness at her side grew worse as she ran. She needed to find her brother and she needed to apologise for not being useful enough to save Mr Macmillan from his fate. So that was that. The man who'd been trying to kill Sturgis only moments earlier was dead. Sturgis accioed a large branch from the woods and transfigured it into a makeshift crutch (to make his hobbling back to the Healers a little less awkward), and glanced over at Severus. What was someone supposed to say to a person you'd just killed someone with? Slapping the person on the back and saying "good job, mate" like they would after Quidditch matches didn't exactly feel appropriate. Instead, Sturgis just caught Severus's eye and nodded, saying a quiet "thanks," before moving back toward the castle. Igor was not pleased about this and it was his considered opinion that the Inner Circle had gone completely mad. There had been no planning and those old men were acting as though they were as frothingly mad as Bellatrix Lestrange. In truth he wanted no part of this battle... ha! He wouldn't call it a battle. A battle implied organisation and there had been none of that. This was just a street fight writ large and Igor had always avoided street fights back home. He wasn't going to get involved in one here. So he had edged his way around the walls, hoping to find a safe place to hole up in, maybe somewhere he could shoot a few spells out of while remaining safe. Let the brainless fools charge in and get killed. He intended to survive and then he intended to find a way to get back home to Russia even if he had to descend into the filth of the Muggle world. These people were insane and no amount of power was worth this madness. He continued working his way around the walls, ending up near the edge of the large lake. This looked like a good spot out of the main part of the battle. Dawlish wasn't entirely pleased with this turn of events either, save for the considerable leg up that he saw side having over the the Death Eaters. Their Lord was dead, if the taunts they'd been met with had been any indication of the truth, and moreover, they had no proper claim to leading Britain, as they'd done until now. Even without that revelation, they couldn't hope to keep their claws latched into the soul and spirit of the British Wizarding World any longer; the Army of Albion wouldn't stand for it, and Dawlish wouldn't either. There was something to be said for the intelligence of some of their number, granted. Some of them seemed to be realizing that they couldn't make it out of this victorious. As Dawlish maneuvered through the fray, trying to take hits for his fellows from Albion where he could and giving at least as well as he got, he noticed one worming away toward the boathouses. He commended the Death Eater's efforts and desire to keep living, to be sure, but the masked man couldn't be so stupid as to think he would really get away without facing the consequences for what he'd done, what he'd endorsed by taking part in the Death Eaters' tyranny. Following behind him, Dawlish waited until he was within enough firing range, pulled out his wand, and shouted, "Reducto!" Igor heard the spell at the last moment and whipped around, flinging up a shield as he went. Why was someone attacking him here? Honestly didn't the man have better things to do when there were so many Death Eaters crawling all over the grounds who were actually interested in getting into the castle? Why didn't the fool just leave him alone so he could find a nice place to wait for more opportune moments? The shield didn't do all that he wanted as it deflected the spell into the ground in front of him which in turn threw dirt, grass and stones everywhere and his shield wasn't the type to stop physical attacks. He yelped with disgust as he was peppered with stones and dirt and scowled ferociously. Stupid man and his stupid spells. He pointed his wand at the man and yelled, "Sectumsempra!" Dawlish had been expecting the Death Eater to fire back at him -- their kind never went down without a fight first, and even if he'd been trying to escape, Dawlish wouldn't have put anything past him. What he hadn't been expecting was a spell quite of that nature. He managed to put up a Shield Charm, but he didn't react nearly soon enough to keep the spell from gashing into his side, making a decent cut. ...Oh, hell, that wasn't going to be easy to clean up later -- perhaps it wasn't as bad as it could've been, but it was surely deep enough -- but first Dawlish needed to attend to the fight. The Shield Charm came down as he recoiled from the pain. Aiming at the ground near the Death Eater's feet, he pointed his wand and called out, "Expulso!" Lach, too, was not happy with this damn war. The fact he talked the 'bossman' into letting him do more than just wait around and heal a bunch of wounded after they were harmed made it a little more bearable, but not by much; not when two of the three people he ever gave his undying loyalty to had been so shamelessly defiled after their murders. Someone was going to receive the end of his pent-up frustration over the deaths of Frank and Alice Longbottom, and that someone was the Death Eater he caught creeping off toward the lake. A couple distractions interrupted his objective -- a rough healing here or there -- but eventually he managed to trip his way along the banks, stopping partway up the hill when he noticed the two men below already engaged in battle. It would not do well to start firing without knowing which was on his side (if either of them.) He recognised Dawlish just in time to see the strange hex carve into the Auror's side. Yes, that would mean the other one was the enemy. Turning his own wand on the Death Eater, Lach cast a silent furnunculus hex at the man's head. Considering the distance between them, however, he wasn't sure where the boils would hit, if they even did at all. Not waiting to see the outcome, he immediately tripped the rest of the way toward Dawlish, calling out with his typical sarcasm, "Isn't 'proper dodging' one of the first Auror lessons?" He skidded to a halt just before he might crash into his comrade. "Let me look at that." Igor felt a savage sense of satisfaction when he saw his spell's impact. Good, let the fool suffer. Hopefully he would turn tail and leave Igor to settle in and wait out the battle. He quickly learned that wasn't going to be the case when the return spell hit the ground in front of him and kicked up dirt, grass and stones. He quickly cast a shield but it wasn't quick enough to avoid being peppered with debris. None of it was serious, bruises, nothing more but it was irritating nonetheless. It also took his attention off his surroundings and he didn't see either the other man who arrived or the spell that headed his way... at least not until it hit him and his left shoulder and arm broke out in a large number of exceedingly painful boils. He reeled backwards with a shouted "Blya!" and immediately started to try and get rid of the disgusting things. Aquila wasn't sure why he was here - why any of them were here. It already seemed to him a losing battle. But in the end any misgivings he had were, as always, squashed by loyalty to his father and his friends, and here he was in the fray. Igor Karkaroff was not a friend, really, but when Aquila saw him fighting against two others and -as he saw it - losing, he had no choice but to come to his aid. Besides, the air was less thick with spells here; probably he had less chance of dying. He cast a long-range blasting spell at the pair opposite Igor as he approached. "Stop fussing over those and fight back," he barked at his comrade, before casting again. "Sectumsempra!" Good God, the Mediwizard was fussing. Not that Dawlish particularly minded Lachlan or doubted his abilities, but in the middle of a battle, fussing was dangerous, something made even more obvious by the fact that, while Lach was busy "looking at" the injury, a Blasting Spell came headed their way from some second Death Eater. Honestly, you attacked one and suddenly more came out of the woodwork. They were like cockroaches, these people -- but, fortunately they were easier to capture and hold accountable for their misdeeds. Once again, Dawlish managed getting up a shield charm, but his focus was off and it wasn't enough to fight off the full force of the Blasting Spell. Dawlish fell back, getting banged around in the process, but recoiled quickly, propping himself up, aiming at the feet of the second Death Eater, and casting a silent Incendio! Lach was hardly fussing over the wound so much as pausing to assess how badly Dawlish had been cut. His philosophy may have been 'you put yourself in this danger, your death is your fault' but some of that had gone out the window with the Longbottoms. Besides, the more able-bodied Aurors they had on their side, the better. The hex had definitely given Dawlish a good nick in the side, one more complex than most slashing hexes, but that did not deter him from, at the very least, attempting a blood-clotting charm. He was barely finished in time before the blasting curse hit Dawlish's shield, knocking both of them back. "Mother of Ravenclaw," he cursed, pushing himself to a kneeling position. The slashing curse caught him completely off guard, grazing his shoulder before he could stand. Lach cried out in pain and clutched his shoulder, staring down at the increasing amount of blood before turning his attention up the hill. Brilliant. Another snake slithering up from the grass. "Expulso!" he called, hoping to explode the tree nearest the lad and inflict some damage with the shards that would fly off. To Dawlish he added, rising, "Two on two? Not bad." Igor had not managed to get rid of the boils when Aquila snapped at him but he had managed to reduce them to the point where they weren't so immediately painful. He also wanted to snarled back at his fellow Death Eater except he knew he hadn't been paying attention and against two opponents that... probably hadn't been his best decision. He looked over at the two idiots from the castle just in time to see the flames heading towards he and Aquila and he quickly flung a shield over the two of them. It was enough to keep the flames away... on his side at least, he was fairly certain it would on Aquila's side too... but it wasn't enough to protect him from the bits and shards of tree that suddenly came flying towards them. "Yob tvoyu mat!" he yelled as bits of wood embedded themselves into his flesh and he flung an entrail-expelling curse in the general direction of the two defenders. Aquila was satisfied when both his spells met their targets. He wished he could get out of their way and be done with it, but that his father and brother-in-law were in the field and he was duty-bound to defend them as well as he could. He dimly recognised the logical error in defending the attackers in this situation, but his loyalty to family had always, and did now, overrule his logic and better sense. That might have been why he was here in the first place. Suddenly, a large chunk of a wounded tree was swinging at him, lit aflame by the remnants of Incendio. He cast a protective spell, but it only extinguished the flames. He fell to the ground as the wood caught him in the ribs, and heard them crack. He groaned, hoping Igor could cover them until he could pick himself up. Dawlish was still bleeding, and the pain was starting to hit him, but it was all something that he was determined to see through. Both of these wretches needed to be incapacitated and taken in so that justice could be done properly -- and, regardless of the shift in powers that had occurred back in January, he was duty-bound to take them the right way. With both of them sufficiently distracted, Dawlish rose from the ground and held out his wand, ready to stun or incarcerate them... The merfolk, though, had other plans. Had Dawlish paid attention to the water, he might have seen the bubbles signaling their approach, but he'd had injuries and Death Eaters to see to, instead. As they rose out of the water, the loud, sudden screeching made Dawlish flinch and hesitate in his planned attack -- but it wasn't until he felt something sharp jabbing in and out of his calf that he wheeled around and saw the source of it. Scraggly-haired and grey-skinned, with wild yellow eyes and broken teeth, one of the Merfolk had taken to stabbing him with a spear. ...Were these creatures insane? "Stop it, why don't you!" Dawlish snapped at the one who'd stabbed at him. Gesturing at the Death Eaters, he shouted, "Them! Attack. Them!" Igor looked around to see Aquila on the ground and he resisted the urge to swear as he fumbled to throw up a shield around the two of them. As he did he was startled to see merfolk emerging from the nearby lake. Merfolk! What kind of place was this when they permitted such things near a school? He was amused when the merfolk went for the men they were fighting. At least these damn merfolk knew which side to fight on. He had just completed that thought when a group of merfolk suddenly converged on he and Aquila brandishing their barnacle-laden knives and spears and tridents. He was so startled that he completely forgot to guard himself against such a primitive attack and one of the mermen stabbed at him with his trident. The tines embedded themselves in Igor's shoulder and he gave a yell of disgust and pain. A quick, sharp Reducto sent the merman flying backwards and Igor stumbled over to Aquila, clutching at his bleeding shoulder. "Come on! Get up!" he said, grabbing at Aquila. "We have to get out of here. The merfolk have gone crazy." They stopped firing. Why had they stopped firing? Breathing deeply, Lach focused on the two death eaters, ignoring the blood trickling down his side. Had the attacks really done that much damage or were the 'Dark lord's' minions just chalk full of pansies? He took a step forward with every intention of investigating when he heard Dawlish begin to yell at someone. Attack? Why? What was the Auror seeing that he was not? A glance over his shoulder quickly answered that question. "Oh, hell." The Mediwizard's eyes widened at the sight of dozens of merfolk slinking their way up the hill. Casting a blasting charm, he managed to fend off the couple who were headed toward him, watching them fly back into the water before turning around to grab the Auror by his good arm. "I don't think they're on sides," he grumbled and attempted to pull Dawlish back up toward the throng of the battle where he could hear calls for medical attention beginning to resound. The effort was hindered momentarily as one of the merfolk drove its spear into his foot. It was painful but not necessarily irreparable. Kicking the beast, he doubled his efforts to get Dawlish to give up the fight. "Lets go, Auror! Healer's orders!" Igor's eyes widened when he saw even more merfolk emerging from the lake. This was utterly ridiculous. He had not signed up in order to be killed by glorified fish. "Come on," he growled at Aquila, hauling one of the man's arms over his shoulders despite the pain it caused. "We're leaving. Let the stupid Order get skewered by fish." He wrapped an arm around Aquila's waist and hustled them both towards the wall. They could work their way around from there until they got back to the group and then perhaps find a healer. Dawlish had signed up to fight the Death Eater run Ministry for many reasons -- but, honestly, he could more than agree with the sentiment that the (apparently) smarter of the two Death Eaters had expressed. One of his reasons for coming had not been to let the merfolk skewer him. Gruffly, he patted Lachlan on the back by way of turning him 'round so they could make their escape together -- and, whatever Lachlan did, Dawlish was heading off towards the wall, running after these two Death Eating creeps. He was dragged from his thoughts by a blasting hex, just barely dodging the one flying by his head, and tripping over the one at his feet. His palms scraped on the hard ground and he pushed himself back to his feet and quickened his pace towards the boathouses, shooting an "Incendio," in what he thought was the general direction of his attacker. Prepared for a counterattack, Andromeda was already partway around the boathouse once more, the spell hitting the wood she'd been in front of and leaving a great black singe. Wrinkling her nose at the smoke, Andie fired another blast his direction, leaving herself a bit vulnerable to encourage more attacks, hoping he'd come closer. She was confident enough in her defenses, she hoped to fend off anything he'd throw at her on his way there. Once he was near the lake, she'd have plenty of resources to incapacitate him, and then it'd be on to the next. She tried not to think how it seemed almost too easy. It was time for Alana to face battle again. To see if any of her training had paid off. She doubted, truly, that she could ever find the adrenaline rush in battle that Sirius had once spoken of; war was a gritty thing and she was not sure she could ever really enjoy it as he had. But there was no choice in her mind; she had to fight. Even in the face of genuine battle, Alana was patient. Few Death Eaters had yet made it to this part of the grounds - what was quickly, in her mind, becoming her own territory to defend. She could not defend Hogwarts; none of them could. But she could defend this small patch of land just a little way down from the boathouses. There were hexes and curses and flashes of light bursting into her vision, but she was too far away to help. But then she heard sounds from the boathouses and saw smoke rising, and knew she'd found her chance. She braced herself, gripping her wand tightly in her left hand. It was not her naturally strong hand, but it was the only real hand she had anymore since the Ministry had fallen, and she'd sat out of too many battles because of it. She darted along the shoreline and caught sight of a man and a woman duelling. She remembered that Andromeda Tonks had also stationed herself by the boathouses, and so Alana quickly decided the man was her target. She raised her wand. "Impedimenta," she shouted, hoping to thwart whatever spell he thought to throw next. Taken by surprise by a spell from someone who was not whom he was facing, Primus was trapped in place for a few moments by the Impediment Jinx. He wanted to overcome it- by sheer force of will if he had to- and not get caught off guard again. But his attention was distracted from trying to will himself free by a spear arching through the air. After a few minutes of being frozen, he was able to jerk his neck to see where the spear had come from. The lake. Merpeople. Wonderful. Another spear flew through the air at him, falling just short and embedding itself in his foot. Shouting in pain, he sent an (useless, likely) Avada Kedavra towards the water, and then turned back to his opponent. "Incarcerous, Diffindo, Stupefy." Andromeda couldn't help but exhale, relieved when she saw and heard the spear fly up overhead, along with a friendly fire from somewhere behind and to the side of her. She glanced in that direction quickly to see another witch headed her direction. She didn't recognise her yet, but an ally was an ally so Andromeda took the moment her opponent was frozen to turn and move back toward the lake. She hoped the Merpeople knew who to aim at, although the killing curse that sailed by her toward the lake probably gave them a hint. Spinning back around now that she knew he was no longer frozen, Andie skidded to a halt, almost to the shoreline. Andromeda managed to flick her wand and transfigure the ropes flying at her into nothing but flower petals that flew harmlessly on the breeze. Unfortunately, while transfiguration was Andromeda's specialty, it took longer than had she just cut them down and the blasting hex hit at her feet, knocking her sideways and out of the way of the stunner. She landed hard on the ground, gasping as the wind was knocked out of her and pain shot up through her shoulder as she shoved herself back to her feet and quickly placed up shields in front of her and throwing one over to her quickly approaching ally. Alana was busy trying to keep an eye on the sudden onslaught of spears erupting from the water, so she barely noticed in time when a cutting spell was sent her way. It caught her on the arm as she twisted, but it was minor enough that she wasn't even sure it broke the skin. She didn't have the time or inclination to check before a Stunning Spell was streaking toward her. She raised her wand, but Andromeda beat her to it. Alana spared her a grateful glance. "Deprimo!" she shouted, in an effort to blast Primus closer to the waters. They were now churning with flashes of greyish green skin and silver scales. Sidestepping, but stumbling backwards and falling, Primus stuck his hands out to break his fall and a sickening crunch resounded as his left wrist broke on the impact. Gritting his teeth, he shot a silent Reducto at the girl, before standing up unsteadily, breathing heavily from the pain. "Avada Kedavra!" He aimed at the woman closer to the shore, dodging another spear flying at him and trying to think of a spell to mend his wrist, but he couldn't. Still breathing hard, he conjured up a splint and bandages and hoped that would help for the moment, but hesitating the moment it took to do that seemed like a bad idea in retrospect. Andromeda felt like she had just gotten back on her feet when there was a streak of green flying her way. She ducked down out of the way, gasping as the light passed over her. She had no time to think of the possible consequences of getting into battle now, she needed to do her duty and make whatever dent she could in Voldemort's forces. She shoved her hood and the hair that had come unclipped back for better vision when she saw the man conjure a splint. He'd hurt his wrist. Weakness - exploit it. Andie straightened back up partially, keeping low enough that the spears coming from the lake behind went well over her head. "Incarcerous" she hissed, ropes shooting from her wand, aiming for his wrist. She readied to snap the ropes back, hoping to yank him off balance and closer to the lake still. Alana, meanwhile, was unprepared for the man to recover so quickly. As such, she was knocked backward by his spell. She landed hard, bruising her side, and winced. It was difficult to push herself up again with only her stump of a right hand, so she took the risk of lowering her wand temporarily in order to get back to her feet. As she rose, she had to quickly dodge out of the way of a wayward spear. Having been successful with her first use of the spell, Alana cast Deprimo again. Thinking quickly, Primus sent an Incendio at the ropes flying towards them, igniting them before they wrapped around him, but he wasn't so lucky with the second spell that flew towards him. It knocked him off of his feet and a opened a large gash in the side of his thigh. He tumbled down towards the shore of the lake, and it took him a few tries to stand up properly. "Incendio, Diffindo, Deprimo, Expulso," he shot wildly, not aiming particularly well at all. His spells were messy and Andromeda would have found it easy to dodge- if a spear hadn't at that same moment sunk itself into the woman's calf. She cried out and instinctively bent to clutch at the long sharp piece of wood, preventing her from shielding herself from the explosion next to her. The sand and dirt of the shore erupted beside her and she fell once more, feeling a sharp pain shoot through her midsection. Was that a rib? Tears coming to her eyes, she coughed and cringed, shoving herself up off of her stomach, wand clutched so tightly in her hand her knuckles were turning white. Furious and leg burning, she turned and with a quick severing charm she cut the spear down to a manageable length and shakily made it to her feet, one arm clutching her torso, the other lifting her wand to summon a few of the spears around them. She levitated them, glaring, and with a wide swing of her wand she sent them flying at the man, hoping Alana was enough of a distraction for them to hit. The spears came flying towards him, and the injury in his leg made it hard to dodge, one of them embedding itself in his chest, another deep in his side. The pain radiated out from the initial wound and almost as if in slow motion, Primus felt himself fall backwards. Blood flowed into the water, creating red patterns across the surface of the lake as the churning waters pushed him backwards and forwards. His eyes darkened as more and more blood poured out of him, and the last thing he felt was his body being pulled under the water, one futile gasp for air filled his lungs with murky, filthy lake water. And was gone.
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