|Blurred Lines Mods (blurred_mods) wrote in blurred_lines,|
@ 2009-08-31 17:26:00
|Entry tags:||! [1980-08] august, aberforth dumbledore, aeneas nott, agatha snape (née chubb), akhil patil, alana fenwick, alastor moody, aloysius croaker, amelia bones, amycus carrow, anastasia mulciber (née aesalon), andrew forsythe, angelica bobbin, anzhelina dolohov, aquila avery, araminta meliflua, astra lestrange (née avery), atticus avery, barty crouch jr, bellatrix lestrange (née black), bertie higgs, bertram aubrey, beth frobisher, ciara fitzpatrick, claudette nott (née delacour), corbina lestrange, damocles belby, daniel rourke, demetrius mulciber, doris crockford, elle abercrombie, elphias doge, emmeline vance, evangeline macnair, fenrir greyback, ferdinand gibbon, florence hall, gaius travers, gawain robards, georgina smythe, graley rosier, hestia jones, iago mulciber, igor karkaroff, james potter, jeremiah smith, josephine pepper (née savage), julianne wilkes, kate proudfoot, kingsley shacklebolt, lachlan kirke, lavinia travers, lily potter (née evans), lucinda greengrass (née yaxley), lucius malfoy, marius lestrange, mary macdonald, minerva mcgonagall, narcissa malfoy (née black), octavius pepper, peggy o'nell, petra podmore (née petrikova), rabastan lestrange, rita skeeter, rufus scrimgeour, sam madley, seraphina travers, severus snape, tabitha macfusty (née bagnold), tabitha pryce, ursula caldeira, walden macnair, xenophilius lovegood|
FINAL BATTLE [16/29]
THE FINAL BATTLE
The greenhouses & tower
Scabior was happy Bellatrix had ignored the annoying old men -- and that Fenrir had gone back in after her. He craved the fight, and flesh; his appetite for people wasn't quite that of his leader but he would have been lying to say that it didn't excite him to be allowed to rip people apart however he pleased. Delimbing Kettleburn earlier had only piqued his bloodlust, and perhaps he had some boyish desire to impress Ursula as well. The motives all led to one thing: targetting those who looked vulnerable.
Unfortunately, Josephine Savage, a smallish woman alone in the middle of the battlefield, appeared vulnerable. He didn't realise how wrong he was as he bounded up, wand a secondary interest as he used the clusterfuck of confusion to launch himself in her direction, a loud growl at his throat. No introductions, no duelling stances -- he just wanted flesh in his teeth and beneath his fingers.
After her duel with Rabastan, Jo was little the worse for wear and so as Scabior moved to lunge at her, every nerve was stretched to fever pitch and she was able to pivot and flourish her wand.
The werewolf - even in his human form - was large, hairy, animalian. She would never get used to the inhuman snarl upon the lips of these people.
There was still a part of her that didn't want to hurt these werewolves; the same part that realised they were simply the pawns of whatever game the Dark Lord thought he could play. If she could stop him long enough to turn him on the Death Eaters ...
Scabior twisted and rolled as red magic threw up the dirt around him. He knew that spell all too well and hated it. It was cheap (thought the werewolf who didn't even bother to use his magic most of the time) and didn't allow for a perfectly fun fight. Well bollocks to that! Scrabbling to his side, he brandished his wand (and teeth) at her, trying to make it more of an "even" playing field.
... just about as much as Jo hated a disarming spell. With a slashing motion of her wand, she struck down the curse and brandished her silver knife (gift from Pepper) at the werewolf hurtling toward her.
"You care about the Dark Lord that much -- that you'd die for him, you'd spit yourself on a silver knife and what has he ever done for you?"
"Hell no, lady!" Came Scabior's reply as he (with an internal fuck this!) abandoned his wand and careened out of the way of shattering magic and into Jo's legs. The words silver knife did not register wholly until he'd made contact, at which point, blood-lust had overcome fear, and he was more interested in grappling than escaping. He didn't give a shit about any lords, dark or otherwise. He was here for Fenrir.
She felt the wolf's attempt to topple her balance against her shins as, indeed, she went down beneath the force of him. Her fist was ready, however, on one end as was her silver knife on the other as it dove for his shoulder.
Ursula had done her best to run- though it was more of a quick limp, which was slow- to the scene of the fight at hand. She had smelled it on the breeze, and it made her stomach churn a little. One of her wolves- and they were her wolves as Fenrir had so often put she and Tabitha in charge- was in a world of trouble. Not even just one of the wolves, it was Scabior in trouble. Of all the harmless people in the world.
She hobbled/hurried/walked up to the scene as the woman in the fight went down- but something about that wasn't right. She waited for one of them- either of them- to stand so she could make some kind of movie, but instead lingered by the wall, willing herself invisible.
Scabior's teeth hit the woman's legs just as silver penetrated his skin, and he chomped down, hard, with the first agonising glide of knife into him. But he realised quickly that it was not a normal knife and it was not normal, hot blood spilling down across his shoulderblade. No, this was something far worse, and he released her almost at once, falling backwards and clawing at himself to try and get her -- and it -- away.
Jo's hand slid as he moved, driving the knife further in even as her hand, wet with blood, slipped from the hilt of the knife. She swore when Scabior's teeth sink into her leg and while he pulled away, the sensation only blossomed into something fiery and intangible. Standing only served to broaden her pain and as she pushed down the thought that she would never be the same again, she pointed her wand at the wounded werewolf and waited for him to pounce again.
But there would be no more pouncing from Scabior; the silver of the knife seared into his flesh as he reeled backwards, trying and unable to claw at the blade and failing, again and again and his wildly beating heart only served to shove the toxin quicker into his bloodstream. The ground hit him, unexpectedly, and with loud, confused whines of pain, he heaved and fought to suck in another breath. Jo was a distant, peripheral figure now, and though he tried to crawl away, his arms numbed, leaving him fumbling uselessly at the grass.
Swearing to herself, her blood pumping furiously, Ursula willed her wounds from the explosion earlier to heal instantaneously so she could just run, jump and attack. But instead she crept up as quietly as she could manage, blocking out the sounds that made her simply want to drag her fellow away from the battle entirely instead of fight- a cowardly move if she'd ever considered one. As soon as she was within a few feet of the woman, she pounced- propelled by her good leg, claws outstretched and ready to tear whatever they made contact with.
Because Jo herself, as she stood focused on Scabior, was ferociously attempting to fight off her own stabs of pain, she did not notice Ursula creeping up to pounce upon her until she felt the weight from another werewolf on her back, claws at her side, teeth in her shoulder. A scream - half of surprise, half of pain - rent through her as she wondered just how deep werewolf teeth and werewolf claws could go. Just how much they could ruin her before it was over.
But as she lay beneath Ursula, it was Damocles Belby that came to mind. With a surge of hope, she remembered the syringe of weaponised Wolfsbane potion in her pocket. She struggled to reach it, baring more skin for the slicing to Ursula's teeth, but had finally thrust her hand into her pocket and as her fingers grasped the slim glass, she brought it out with thumb upon the plunger and aimed the needle straight for Ursula's neck.
Digging her claws and teeth in and ripping at whatever she could, shifting as the woman shifted and growling in an entirely inhuman manner, Ursula didn't even noticed when the syringe was plunged into her.
But after a moment of clawing and punching and tearing, she started to feel the changes. Wide-eyed and confused, she rolled off the woman and scrambled back a few inches. What was going on? She felt weaker...she felt...human? This left her absolutely defenseless.
As Ursula rolled off of her, Jo felt the air once again fill her lungs until she hobbled up just enough to stand. It hurt, and she pushed her fist against her side to hold in God only knew what. But she cast her eyes about - gasped in shock - and reeled off toward another battle.
Scabior couldn't see anymore, but he could smell, and there was something that changed as blood hit the air and Ursula's taste reached him. He didn't know what it was, but he assumed she was in trouble. As fluid overtook his lungs, he struggled to crawl towards her. "Ursie," he groaned, wanting to help but being completely useless instead. Just a few more feet and maybe he could reach her -- but his chest hit grass and now he couldn't move. Everything was shutting down. And it hurt. Damn, it hurt.
Attempting to stand and falling, Ursula crawled backwards like some bloody, deranged crab, settling beside Scabior on the grass. "Don't move," she said in a quiet, yet commanding tone. Leaving her ruined leg stretched out in front of her, she folded the other under it and then leaned over, grabbing Scabior to pull him to her instead of allowing him to move on his own. This was more difficult than it would have been normally, so after a second she gave up, jerking the knife roughly out of him and rolling him onto his back. Then she just flopped back onto the grass and maneuvered herself beside her friend, laying her head on his arm and staring at the bright afternoon sky. Thoughts of the woman that had done this entirely forgotten, she frowned.
"Sometimes I hate being right, Scabby." She said it half-teasingly, and half-melancholy. Any second now that woman would probably come over and finish the job, right? Well she'd lived the life she'd wanted at least.
Scabior sighed a little at her proximity and tried to smile as his back leaked into the grass, free of the excruciating burn of silver but too far gone to bother with asking for a healer. He hoped his arm was wrapped around her, because he couldn't feel anything but her warmth against his side and the lupine beat of her heart -- a very particular kind of pulse that stood out against the screams and explosions all around them. The sky seemed very big to his half-blind eyes, a never ending panel of brilliant blue, a blue warmed by the sun. And he was very warm. Ursula and the pool of blood beneath him grew hotter as his organs failed, as his body drained.
"I'm okay, lady," he said, voice barely above a whisper as his drowning lungs struggled to push out the words. He liked the sky. It looked very free up there.
"Don't lie," she said weakly, feeling oddly tired, but willing herself to stay awake. "I'm still your superior..." she continued. Shifting, she curled her injured leg up under herself, but winced at the pain. The steady blood loss had made this feel more and more like a dream as the moments wore on. She was convinced that she would wake up in her tent...there would be no pool of blood, maybe they'd spilled some booze and hadn't bothered to dry it up. That had to be it. Nuzzling Scabior slightly, she groaned. "This is so shitty," she choked out tearfully.
What little energy he had left was put into frowning at her upset and stretching out his good hand across his chest to take hers. She had little fingers for such a tough girl. He liked it. Her being tough, that was. And her little fingers. "It's okay," he wheezed out on his last breath. "We'll go running later, yeah?" But his chest fell, and he never heard the answer.
Ursula tried not to cry, and ended up laughing instead. Between her leg being destroyed in that stupid fucking explosion and Scabior being ... gone, running seemed so insignificant. So fun. Lighthearted. That's how it was supposed to be, right? Not all of this blood and death. A good normal life. Hadn't they been promised something better? Had Fenrir lied to them or had Fenrir been blindly trusting in people that obviously didn't give a damn? How was this better? Shifting a little, she pushed herself into a sitting position, looking around for Tabby or Seonag or anyone that could help her.
"We'll do that later, Scabs," she finally answered, bringing one of her knees up and resting her chin on it. Turning away from the still body beside her, she finally stopped fighting it and unnaturally hot tears rolled down her cheeks. How long had it been since she'd cried?
2) Lucius & Augustus vs Madley & Algie Longbottom
At this moment in time, Lucius was perfectly happy to attack anyone who wasn't on his side. As he moved around the greenhouses hoping to run into his opponents from earlier so he could finish them off, it was not the two women he expected but instead a man he didn't recognise that came into his line of sight. The stunners were not much of a problem to deflect, and Lucius countered them with a blasting curse aimed at the legs, and a sectumsempra aimed at the chest.
Which was both a bit more than Sam had been prepared to deal with straight off. The blasting curse was only just avoided, instead spraying dirt and grass into his face. He was half-way to putting a shield charm up when there was a warm, tearing sensation across his chest. Warm turned to hot, turned to hurt as blood poured from the wound and stained at his shirt. He swore, putting up a weak shield as he took a second to run his left hand over the soaking cloth. This was decidedly not good.
He'd already wasted enough time though, and Sam quickly fired off two blasting curses and an incendio at his attacker, swallowing thickly as he focused on keeping his feet under him.
Algie had been wandering around the greenhouses with a distracted interest in what was inside them. Maybe there was still a Venomous Tentacula in there. Those things could be vicious and, he was quite sure, his deceased nephew would have been proud of his use of one to attack Death Eaters. There was a slight pang in chest when he thought of Frank, and how, if he had been alive, he would have probably made it his job to tend to the greenhouses here while the rebels were living at Hogwarts.
He was, however, torn from these unhappy thoughts when two men came into his line of sight, one bleeding, one tall, blond, and a little too familiar. Sometimes, being a prominent member of wizarding society had its pitfalls, because Algie knew immediately that Lucius was his enemy, and since Sam was Lucius's enemy, he must be Algie's friend. He aimed his wand at Lucius, counting on the element of surprise, and shouted, "Diffindo!"
The blasting curses were also skillfully dodged but the incendio caused his sleeve to go up in flames for the second time that day. A swift Aguamenti put the flames out, but he barely had time to raise his wand again before a spell came at him from a different direction, cutting a painful gash in his left forearm. Sending another sectumsempra in the direction of the caster, Lucius was about to round on his first opponent again when something hard and heavy hit him on the back of his neck, sending him sprawling to the floor.
"What in Salazar..." twisting round inelegantly on the ground, Lucius realised just before another attack rained down on him that it was a gargoyle that was hitting him. "EXPULSO! DEPRIMO!" he screamed at it, forgetting about his other opponents for a moment to get rid of this more direct threat, and throwing up a speedy shield charm to protect himself from the resulting rubble.
Sam too, was momentarily distracted by the appearance of someone else. Never mind the damn gargoyle, who the hell was fighting with him? His distraction cost him though, and Lucius's spell broke effortlessly through his shield. Pain seared across his chest and he cried out in pain and surprise as again, he was sliced wide open.
Light-headed already, Sam's vision wavered dangerously, though it was difficult to tell if it was just him, or if maybe the world was just deciding it was going to stop spinning for a moment. In reality, it was his legs giving up on him, losing strength just as surely as he was losing blood. Sam stumbled and made vague attempt to rebalance himself and cast another blasting hex, of which surely was horribly aimed.
Algie ran forward and put his arm around Sam's shoulders, holding him up as best he could as he threw up a Shield Charm to protect them from the Blasting Curses. Damn, Lucius Malfoy was vicious, and he'd unfortunately already lost both of the toads he'd brought with him, so they could be of no use. "All right there, laddie?" he asked. "You look -- confringo! -- a little worse for the -- oppugno! wear there. Furnunculus! You're bleeding quite a bit here and apparently old Lucy Malfoy here doesn't care much for his reputation. I'm -- stupefy! -- Algie Longbottom, by the by." As he spoke, he fired off hex after jinx after hex, trying to slow Lucius up so that they could possibly get away.
Several feet away, Augustus Rookwood noticed that Lucius was being attacked by two of the terrorists and -- was that a gargoyle as well? Of course this was the sort of mess the Death Eaters were going to get themselves into when they had no idea what they were doing, thanks to Bellatrix's histrionics interrupting the Inner Circle's attempts at putting together a coherent plan of attack. He stalked closer to where the three men were fighting while keeping what he thought to be safe distance away before raising his wand and casting a particularly nasty bit of dark magic that would damage the eyes permanently, and in a spectacularly painful manner.
Sam was rather reluctant about the man holding him up. Not that he had much of a choice in the matter. He was feeling increasingly tired and clearly wasn't paying a whole lot of attention to what he was saying until he identified himself as a Longbottom. Well that was better, he supposed. Algie probably would try really hard to keep him from dying. Not that Sam really thought he was going to die. He was too focused on trying to keep his wand between his fingers to think that far ahead.
At least until a spell collided violently with his face. It was quick and immediate and it burned. It was like when you got dirt in your eyes, but so much worse. And that was just how it started. Instinctively, Sam cried out in pain and rubbed at his eyes in some futile hope that it would stop. It didn't. He was pretty sure it only made it worse and when he pulled his hands away, they were covered in... what felt like blood. His vision was red and then bright and then dark again, deep spots sitting against everything in the world. Blurry and then misty, almost like trying to watch a particularly static-y channel on the telly. And then nothing and for a moment Sam thought he was dead, but for the noise of the battle still raging round him and the pain still stinging and aching in his chest.
"I can't-- I can't see--" he whined, wiping at his eyes again.
The sight that met Algie's working eyes was not a pleasant one, and it was safe to say that the second Death Eater's appearance was not a welcome one. It took a great deal of effort not to recoil from the blood and fluid seeping from this other man's eyes, not to mention how much he appeared to be bleeding from where Lucius had cursed him. It was very clear to Algie that he was going to die if he didn't get medical treatment immediately. However, he didn't really want to be cursed in the back as they ran away (especially considering what the second Death Eater had just done).
"Stupefy! Rictumsempra! Diffindo! Petrificus totalus!" Algie didn't pause to see if any of them hit Lucius or Augustus. He grabbed Sam about the waist, threw him over his shoulder in a fireman's carry (this way he could still handle a wand). "Don't worry," he panted to Sam. "I'll find you a Healer."
Augustus knew he should have fired a second spell to take out the Longbottom as well, but he didn't have time to think about that when Algie's volley of spells headed straight for him. His Protego horribilis held up for the first two hexes, but shattered upon the Severing Charm -- and enough magic got through the shield that he got a rather nasty shock when he felt the skin on his wand-arm being slashed open. The Full Body-Bind had to be dodged by throwing himself against the ground in a clumsy and awkward roll -- he was getting far too old for this, and surely there were better opponents he could be fighting instead of two vigilantes, one of whom was blind now, who were running away.
With a final flourish of his wand, Augustus cast a Disillusionment Charm on himself and seemed to disappear from the battlefield before heading away from the greenhouses.
If Augustus was going to disappear, Algie wasn't going to complain, so he ran off with Sam in tow, pausing to throw a few more Stunners over his shoulder at Lucius. It was difficult to run with a full-grown man thrown over your shoulder (also, he was fairly certain that Sam was bleeding all over his clothes). Trying to be reassuring, he said, "When we get you patched up and have won this thing, you owe me a new pair of trousers, laddie." The important thing, of course, was not the trousers, but that this relative stranger would live, and they would win.
Sam was rather too distracted with his injuries to be very worried about anything else. He was vaguely aware of being picked up - or at least his feet leaving the ground - and was much more interested in his complete inability to see anything. Algie in his ear again, and Sam could do little more than whimper and whine, the pain persistent and deep in his head. It was the oddest sensation in the world, being light-headed when you couldn't actually see anything. Being dizzy without real ocular input. Eventually though, everything else faded away too and Sam was unconscious long before he actually got to triage.
3) James & Angelica vs Seonag & Araminta
James only had one goal now, as he ran across the grounds wearing his cloak. Find Lily, find his mum. That was it. Any spells he cast were mostly out of frustration and only when it looked like someone on his side was in trouble. The fact that he'd lost track of his loved ones was bad enough, but the knowledge that if he just had the Marauders' Map all would be well and he'd be able to get to them in no time was beyond frustrating.
It was only because a shock of blonde hair from someone who looked thoroughly in over her head caught his eye that he slowed up when he neared the greenhouses. He shot a blasting spell at the glass, causing shards to fly in every direction as he immediately cast another spell to shield himself and the blonde bird. He pulled the cloak aside so she wouldn't think a ghost was behind her.
"Oi," he said, breathless. "Just hex and hex till you can't hex any more."
That was his battle advice and he intended on following it.
Angelica had abso-bloody-lutely no idea what was going on. Oh, she'd heard the call to arms on the Wireless--everyone in Britain must've heard it--but she had the odd distinction of being in the same castle as the person making the broadcast and only had the vaguest idea before the chaos began that chaos was going to begin. She'd tried to be of some use before this point, but it was difficult to be terribly useful when one had her entire family wheedling at her that they wanted to leave, that they didn't want to be involved, that this would be bad for business and their reputations (oh how Angelica had laughed at that one, as it was a statement from the mouth of her trampier older sister Kitty, whose tarnishing escapades were always made in the most public of places).
"Then bloody well fight," James snapped, unimpressed with a hitwitch that wasn't casting spells and not caring much if he was hurting a few feelings here and there. He'd had enough experiences with hags to last a lifetime from the bite to his crotch when the house had burnt down. This bitch wasn't getting her teeth on him.
The fire ball hit him in the leg and caught his pants on fire, blistering the skin beneath in the time it took him to cast a water spell on his pants to put it out.
"Crucio!" he cast, aiming it at the hag with all the intensity he could muster. Severus had been right when he'd said the unforgivables got easier. He was so angry, it was the spell that slipped out.
After a less than eventful fight and interim, Araminta had again wandered away from the other society ladies, whom she had joined up with again during the lull in battle just to keep up appearances when people were more likely to pay attention. She heard a shout of "Crucio" and looked up, hopeful to see someone on her own side. She was disappointed, however. It was the opposing side throwing around unforgivables.
The woman he was attacking, she saw, was a hag or something similar. Obviously one of theirs. "Stupefy!" she cast at the would-be torturer, with an "Incendio," shot towards the female with him.
Seonag crumpled to the ground, not even aware of what the curse that had hit her would do. Pain rippled through her aged body, and she felt white-hot knives piercing her skin. Even though she squirmed and writhed, nothing stopped them, it was horrible, she was going to bleed to death here on the ground, or just die from the pain.
And as soon as this thought occurred to her, it was over, and she lay panting in the dirt. Her throat was hoarse. She must have been screaming. More than anything, though, this attack enraged her, and she threw herself at the blonde girl, wishing to sink her teeth and nails into her flesh.
Angelica had spotted the second woman to join their little party and deflected her two spells with relative ease. "What the fuck do you think I'm--" she tried to demand of James, not wanting to know why one of the "good guys" was Cruciating someone, but her question was cut off when the hag tackled her and began scratching and biting like some evil cat. Angelica was so shocked by the action that it took her a second to remember her wand, and when she finally did, the first words out of her mouth were "Son of a bitch!" instead of a useful curse.
Still, she pulled her act together relatively quickly, casting a quick Incendio on the hag's clothes and (yanking her arm free of the biting and scratching) sending an Impediment Jinx in the direction of the second woman with a fierce glare.
He shot them one after the other hoping that if one missed the other would hit. There had been a time when he'd hesitated to fight women in the past but no longer. This was war, and it was life or death, and this woman he recognized and a complete and utter bitch.
Seonag had just begun sinking her claws and teeth into Angelica's young, pretty flesh when she was suddenly flying backwards. And on fire. What was it with wizards and fire? It seemed like every time that she fought against wizards, someone ended up setting her on fire. Of course, she couldn't blame them, because she liked to set people on fire, but that was mostly because she couldn't do much else.
She fell to the ground with a thud and rolled around, trying to stop, drop, roll, and put the flames out. Splaying her fingers, she spent an angry blasting curse at Angelica.
Stepping away from the girl's Impediment Jinx, she walked nearly right into the Deprimo, which grazed her leg just enough to do damage that she didn't like the look of. She stumbled, thrown off balance by the now gaping wound in her leg and the exploded hole behind her. Araminta surveyed the damage, and instead of stopping to heal it, looked dead at the boy who had done it. "Crucio."
The crucio bounced off the protego that Angelica cast and James was fucking appreciate.
"Thanks," he called back to her, before he cast a blasting curse square at Araminta's chest. "Protego!" he added, around himself and Angelica, moving close to her again knowing they would have a better chance if they could stay next to each other.
The blasting curse bounced off of Araminta's own hastily done shield charm, and she winced as she took an instinctive step back. Incendio she casted silently at the pair. Followed by a spoken "Expulso."
Seonag gave a roar of pain as she broke out into boils. Very unpleasant, ugly, unsightly boils. They hurt, and, as she looked down on her own hands, she saw that they were hideous, and Seonag, to be honest, couldn't afford to get any more ugly. She took a step back, wondering if the stupid blonde girl was a virgin and if her blood would be suitable for a bath right now. Probably not. More flames exploded from her fingertips, aimed at Angelica.
The three spells at once seemed a bit much for Potter's shield charm, and Angelica cast another one of her own, fortunately deflecting the non-hag's spells before they caused any real damage. The hag's fire, however, had managed to light fire to the grass around them, and it was getting uncomfortably warm. Dropping her shield for a moment, Angelica cast a slashing hex at the hag and another at the other woman, hoping to do some real damage to either of them. After all, a well-placed slashing hex could be as deadly as an Unforgivable curse. She held her injured arm close to her chest and, as an afterthought, cried, "Duro!" while pointing her wand at the hag. Hogwarts could use more statues...
James had only a few seconds to survey his area, searching his mind for what traps had been hidden here. Sticking charms. And Araminta wasn't far from them. Angelica's shield charm combined with his own protected him from the spells headed his way, though his proximity to Angelica proved to be a bad idea when one of the hags flame balls cut through the shield and grazed his shoulder, the skin blistering instantly.
He cast two blasting spells, one at each woman, hoping to send them back further into the grass and into the traps.
Seonag didn't know what the blonde girl's spell would do, but she felt that it would be good to dodge it. She moved slowly, though, with her old, creaking joints, and the spell caught her in the arm and spread up from her fingers. Everything was starting to stiffen in her arm, and as she looked down, she saw her skin going molted and grey, like... stone. Panic started to overtake her as she discovered she couldn't move that arm. With all the concentration she could muster, she summoned up the last of her hag magic to prevent her whole body from turning to stone. Completely horrified, she barely noticed when James's blasting curse hit her stone arm and it burst into tiny pebbles. Shrieking in horror, she sprinted off in the opposite direction.
Angelica smirked at the hag's exploded arm, pleased to see that her spell had sent the creature running, and cast a last freezing charm at the other woman, following it quickly with a Stupefy. Her arm ached and she was dying to get it fixed, so she tapped Potter on the arm. "Don't stay out here too much by yourself, Potter. And hey...for what it's worth, you'd make a damn good hitwizard," she told him dryly before hurrying back to the castle, still cradling her broken arm and trying not to notice how much the hag's bites were bleeding. As she left, she thought she spotted a gargoyle swooping down overhead and grinned to herself...if the freezing charm and Stupefy didn't do any damage to that other woman, the gargoyle would.