|Blurred Lines Mods (blurred_mods) wrote in blurred_lines,|
@ 2009-08-31 17:29:00
|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 [24/29]
THE FINAL BATTLE
Death eaters & supporters
Ferdinand vs Moody
Ferdinand was tired. He was tired of fighting, tired of taking orders, tired of dodging hexes and killing people, but most of all, physically, he was tired. He had been wondering since he first appeared in Hogsmeade with his summons if anyone would notice if he didn't show up. If anyone would care. They were losing. It was over, and they were losing. As recently as the beginning of June, Ferdinand wouldn't have believed such a thing was possible. They had won, hadn't they? Back in January, they had taken the Ministry and now, what was to stop them from flexing all of their power? He had thought then that the fighting would stop. That he had done what he had joined the Death Eaters to do -- establish a pure society. But it hadn't. The vigilantes, it turned out, were even more fanatical than the Death Eaters, and Ferdinand was done.
By the end of the night, he would be a wanted man. He was sure of that. The terrorists knew he was a Death Eater, and when they won, which they surely would, they would want to hunt down every single one of them and give them their own personal cell in Azkaban. Well, Ferdinand wasn't interested in going to Azkaban. He would leave now, try to find a way out of the country, and he might be gone by morning. He separated himself from the throng and began to walk down towards the gate, stopping to put a Disillusionment Charm on himself.
Ferdinand had never been very good at this sort of magic, or much of any sort of magic, to be truthful. Under the tutelage of his uncle, he had practised Shield Charms and hexes, jinxes, and curses, but Disillusioning oneself hadn't been top priority. He held out his arm and could see how weirdly-shaped the grass beneath it looked, for though there was no visible arm, there was certainly a something there. Oh well. He would have to hope that no one just so happened to be looking.
With a final, furtive glance towards the triage tents he had just left, he set off back towards the gate.
Moody could hardly contain his excitement over how well things seemed to be going, not to mention the renewed smugness at the fact that their silly Lord was dead and could not swoop in at the last minute to save them. He'd gotten exactly what he deserved -- well, not exactly, since a Killing Curse was far too humane a way to die when one had killed and tortured and otherwise hurt as many people as Voldemort had, but he supposed he couldn't be picky when he was so thankful the bastard was finally dead.
He'd been ready to turn and prepare himself for the inevitable next round of fighting when he noticed a blur somewhere near the gate. Twisting his magical eye around in his head to focus on the spectre, Moody nearly dissolved into snickering when he identified one of the Death Eaters, clearly fleeing. With such a poorly cast Disillusionment Charm, he was surprised that those on his own side hadn't noticed him sneaking off, but they were likely distracted by their own injuries and so -- Moody would take care of it for them, because he was such a nice, considerate sort of man.
Pointing his wand at the man, Moody shouted "Impedimenta!" to keep him from getting much further. And what would this have all be worth if the Death Eaters couldn't see their own fellow minion fleeing? So he cast Finite to drop the man's Disillusionment Charm.
"Just where do you think you're going?" he called after him, unable to keep the smirk from spreading across his lips.
Ferdinand thought that he was nearly there. He was going to get out of here and go home, and then, maybe if he was lucky, get out of this god-forsaken country. As he trudged off, he felt nothing but regret. The Death Eaters had been a waste of his time. They had mismanaged everything, and furthermore, they hadn't kept their promise to protect their own. How many times had he charged into battle for the Dark Lord, spent nights in St Mungo's, sacrificed his arm, his right arm for a man who simply did not care. He tasted bitterness and disappointment in his mouth. He was disgusted, and if he didn't walk away now, he never would be able to.
But he couldn't keep walking. Something was preventing him, and as the full force of the Moody's spell hit him, he fell over onto the ground. If he had been able to, he would have jumped at the sound of Moody's voice. Bitterness quickly turned to fear. Furthermore, he didn't know what, exactly, to say in response to him. Admitting to what he was doing would be shameful, and begging to be let go even more so.
Once he had seemed to regain use of the muscles required for speech, he tried to reach for his wand, but the Impediment Jinx was holding him down. All he managed to say was, "Leaving." He sounded just as bitter as he felt.
Moody laughed -- it was only further proof to him that they were winning that the Dark Lord's own soldiers were leaving the battlefield and the entire thing was just too satisfying to resist. But even so, he wasn't going to let the man get off that easy -- he'd no doubt done something to warrant a certain amount of wrath before he'd gone turntail on the whole operation.
"Good bye, then," he said, his amusement apparent in his tone, before leveling his wand again. "Avada Kedavra!"
Ferdinand didn't have a chance to fight back, or even to dodge, because the Impediment Jinx was still at work. It had been well-cast, and the most that he could do was struggle to break free of it to no avail. The fear was overwhelming as he heard Moody's laugh, saw him standing before him, armed and powerful where he was trapped and defenceless. He didn't want to die. He had no idea what he wanted now that they had lost, except that being dead was its exact opposite. Even with his sister dead, his fortunes ruined with the Death Eaters, everything that he had ever been taught crumbling at Hogwarts, his survival instincts still fought hard.
The Killing Curse struck him before he had a chance to process that it had even been cast, and he slumped into the grass, motionless.
Moody paid attention only until the curse connected and the man's body was still, after which he gave a loud whoop!, grinning like a five year old on his birthday. "Bulls eye!"
And as much fun as that had been, there was more to be done. So he took his leave, making his way back up to the castle so he could find Rufus and get everyone prepared for whatever came next.
The Malfoys Flee
This wasn't how it was supposed to happen. The thought echoed through Lucius's mind as he surveyed the scene around him; the injuries, the devastation, the deaths. This wasn't how it was supposed to happen. He himself wasn't badly injured, fortunately, and suddenly, going home and putting his feet up instead of being potentially captured and/or killed was looking more and more appealing. And then there was the thought of his son. If he was killed, like so many of his comrades, Draco would have to grow up without a father. And Narcissa, what if something were to happen to her?
Now that was a thought he really couldn't bear; more than he valued his own life, he valued hers, and quickly he made his way over to the triage area in the pretence of needing medical assistance. In the hustle and bustle of emergency medical procedures, he managed to catch his wife's arm.
"I'm taking you home," he whispered in her ear, pushing a strand of blonde hair away from her cheek. "We've lost, there's nothing else we can do. We'll be no use to Draco if we stand our ground and get killed in the process."
Despite the circumstances, Narcissa could not help the look of relief that came over her face as she saw Lucius. She still had no idea where Bellatrix was, but if her husband was here, surely things would work out as they generally did. She had arrived back at the triage tent, but supervising this mess was proving to be incredibly futile. As it was, there were more injured than it would ever be possible to heal, they were nearly out of supplies, and she was nowhere near qualified enough to handle things.
Following her towards the back exit, Lucius paused at her question. Would they be safe? Would the remaining supporters of the Dark Lord track them down? Or their opposition? He had to make a decision, quickly. "We'll be safe," he told Narcissa firmly, making his mind up as he said it. "I'll increase the wards to only let direct blood relatives through, at least until this all blows over."
Once outside the back exit, he raised his wand. "Disillusionment charms," was his brief explanation before the magic was cast. It was possible that if they were seen escaping, they would be killed from behind. There wasn't a single Death Eater he would trust right now. Now all they had to do was leave the Hogwarts grounds to a spot where they could Disapparate, and everything would be all right. Taking Narcissa's hand in his own, Lucius kept in the shadows of the trees along the edge of the Forbidden Forest as he beat his retreat.
Kate & Gawain in Albion Triage
It had been a very rough day with losses on both sides but the sun was shining on the Order and Albion. They would take back the Ministry and things would begin to fall back into place. They had suffered a great deal in the past days and even in the recent hours but there was still a bubble of joy settling in the bottom of Gawain's belly. They had won. The Dark Lord was dead, the Death Eaters were broken, and the pieces could be dusted off and glued back together. It would be all right.
Gawain wound his way through crowds in search of Kate and he found her, a bit worse for wear but he was told she would make it. He ignored his own injuries and he dropped down so that he was perched alongside her. He was smiling the biggest smile he'd managed in months and he took her hand in his own, squeezing it with all the love he had. "I love you." He had to get it out because they didn't say it enough. It was like it had almost felt wrong to love somebody that much under the circumstances. Now he planned on saying it as many times as she would let him. "I'm so happy to see you laying here. Well, not happy to see you injured. Happy that you're alive and on a cot and not dead and on a cart." He clamped his mouth together and stared at her.
"How're you feeling?"
Truthfully Kate was feeling like utter shit. Everything ached from whatever the hell the curse was that Lucius Malfoy had thrown at her (A healer named Beth had said that she'd be bruised and black and blue from that one for probably a good three days, even with bruise paste) and of course what had come after. And she knew that she had to look horrible - all cut and scarred and if she had wondered before what on earth Gawain saw in her with the scars up and down her side, she most certainly wondered that now. But all that aside she was oh so grateful for him and even his clumsy babbling couldn't dampen the feeling that soared up in her heart when he said that he loved her. How in Merlin's name had she gotten so lucky?
"Sort of like I've been hit with a blunt something or other," she said with a wince. "And like I've been mauled by a werewolf, which I suppose makes sense seeing as how I was mauled by a werewolf." She reached the arm that wasn't entirely bandaged up to touch the bandages around her neck and shoulders. She'd had scars before, but now she'd have scars that wouldn't heal and who knew what the effects would be because she had after all been bitten by a werewolf, even if not a fully turned one.
"I don't know what it'll -" she swallowed hard, pushing back tears as she looked at him. Would he even still want her? "They don't know what it'll do when it heals. I mean, assuming it heals and it probably won't heal completely - and Gawain I love you too, and what's happening? What's happened? Are we going to win?"
Gawain pretended like he didn't even notice her injuries. Seeing her in so much pain made him angry but he didn't let those emotions show. She would recover and he would love her, scars or no. He didn't know about her encounter with the werewolf because he hadn't asked. Right now he was more concerned with the fact that she was alive and next to him and a laundry list of injuries was the furthest thing from his mind.
He smiled down at her and gave her a nod. "We're going to win. There have been Death Eaters and supporters sneaking off the fields and the rest of them are falling back."
Kate managed a genuine smile then. Neck and shoulders aside, she had been perhaps lucky in that none of the scars had fallen near her face and her smile was still brilliant. She tried to squeeze his hand, even though she didn't have much strength in her arm at the moment and it hurt to make the movement. But this was good. The Death Eaters didn't have their leader, and if they were sneaking off of the fields then they knew they were on the win, and there would be clean-up of course, but Kate didn't want to think about that right now. She just wanted to be glad she was alive to see this moment and be thankful for Gawain being here.
"Really?" She looked up at him. "Oh, Gawain, that's good! I'm so glad."
Seeing her smile made the entire day worthwhile. If he could see that look on her face everyday he would be a happy man. That's when the idea hit him. They'd spent almost the entire day together for months and each day was more exciting than the previous. He was beginning to realise that he would never be able to spend a day away from her unless he wanted to be completely miserable. Someone had asked him if he would ever marry again, if this thing between Kate and him was going to go somewhere. He hadn't been ready to answer but war put one's life in perspective. He could lose his chance and he was not about to let that happen.
"Stay here." He smiled at the request and then jumped up from his seat. He was rummaging through medical carts and random supply cases in search of the perfect object. Nurses and other Order and Albion members were giving him odd looks but he ignored them. Before long he was at Kate's side once more, grinning like a teenage boy. "I'm back. Sorry, I had to find something."
Kate was a little surprised when she left her side - she supposed that there might still be things that he needed to do, but then he didn't really leave the room and when he came back she quirked an eyebrow at him. She felt so absurd just laying there hardly able to move from all of the bandages around her arm and her neck but she was glad Gawain was there at least.
"You're behaving oddly, sir," she said as lightly as she could considering that she was absolutely exhausted and desperately wishing for pain medication. Why did she so frequently end up with so many injuries at the end of a battle? she couldn't help but hope that if they were winning that there wouldn't be any more of these. That, if they were cleaning up, it would be less battlefields and more courtrooms, but of course, there really was no guarantee, was there?
"It's odd because you're not used to seeing me in a good mood. See, this is what it looks like on the other side of the fence." He scooted his chair closer to Kate's bed and he looked down at her with an adoring smile. She was even beautiful after being on battlefield. He felt like he was in school again, asking his first girl to Hogsmeade.
"Look, I have something I want to say to you and I don't want you to talk until I'm done, alright" He didn't even wait for her answer before he soldiered on. "This has been one hell of a ride and I am so glad that I had you by my side for these last few months. What started as an office fling turned into something so much more important and I honestly believe that I would not be here right now if I didn't have you to fight for." He shuffled to the edge of his seat and he held her hand in his lap. "Kate, I love you. You've shown me a whole side of myself that I thought was buried and gone."
He let her hand rest in his lap and he reached down so his hands were hidden. There was the sound of something being unwrapped down by the side of the bed and he gave her a smile. A moments later and he had her hand in his again.
"I know this is such an imperfect time and these are the kinds of stories that are supposed to go down in history as the most romantic moments ever, but I can't risk losing the chance to ask." He reached out and showed her a simple band aid, beige and unimportant and he swallowed the lump in his throat.
"Catalina Proudfoot, will you marry me?"
Kate watched him as he sat down, and he was grinning so much she couldn't help but smile back. The smile was definitely contagious. She listened to him talking and she smiled as he mentioned the office fling. She'd been so worried that people at the office would raise eyebrows and then the Death Eaters had attacked and they'd ended up in the middle of the wilderness living together.
As he pulled out the band aid, she looked momentarily confused and then as he asked the question her eyes widened and in what was most certainly a cliché, her eyes filled with tears, "oh my god Gawain." She looked at him, and then back at the plaster and then back at him. She couldn't move enough to hug him, but she wanted to hug him, and she nodded as much as she could despite the pain in her shoulder and neck. "Yes. Gawain, yes!" The last yes came out rather more loudly than she intended and she was certain half of the triage centre had heard her, but she didn't care. "Yes!"
She tried to move, even though she really wasn't able to, but she wanted to hug him.
His grin grew wider, if that was possible, and he carefully wrapped the bandage around her ring finger. "It's just plastic and a patch of gauze but I promise I'll have a proper ring on your finger the moment I have chance." He leaned down and kissed her gently before pulling back so he could look into her eyes. He was so happy that it hurt and though he felt guilty he couldn't help it. "I love you," he said again.
Kate was crying now, but they were absolutely tears of happiness. She didn't even hardly know what to say - it was so unspeakably awkward to just be laying on her almost death bed while being proposed to - but on the other hand, there was something ridiculously romantic about the spontaneity of it and anyway, it was Gawain which made her so very happy. She nodded slightly. "I love you too," she murmured softly. "I want to go home," she added. "Do you think we're going to be able to go home?"
He reached out and wiped away the tears that were falling down the side of her face and he nodded. "I think so. Back to our homes and our lives and some semblance of normality. Moody and Rufus want to take back the Ministry. I don't think I can even imagine what it's like to sit at a desk and sign my name to paperwork. It seems like that was lifetimes ago." He glanced around the area at the other injured and he frowned. It wouldn't be exactly the same but it was a start. They could make things work.
"I want you to rest, all right? Close your eyes and start imagining the way things ought to be. I'm going to go see if there's anything I can do to help." He started to speak again before he could give her a chance to protest. "I'll be fine. I promise that I'll come back in one piece and then we can work on planning the rest of our quiet and uneventful life." He leaned down to kiss her forehead as he stood up and he let go of her hand. "I'll be back before you know it."
Kate nodded briefly and gave him a smile. "Be safe, Gawain, please be safe."
And with that she did close her eyes as he'd said. It seemed absolutely insane to think about the fact that they might actually be on their way to normality. It wasn't the time to think about whether or not it really would be normal after all of this. It was hard to think about going to work and doing the work thing and not being in the wilderness - being able to go to films and to restaurants and buy things like make-up and food at a grocery. She couldn't wait to marry him and begin a life together. And when all of this was over, with any luck, they would do precisely that.
Walden & Rita
Rita's commitment to her job was really beginning to get annoying. But she had to be the best, and with Smith dead, her competition was dwindling. Still, she didn't enjoy being on the battlefield, speaking into a silly microphone about everyone's battle attire, being shat on by birds, and getting sprayed with blood. This was not the way she really wanted to spend her Saturday afternoon, and after two long battles with nothing but a brief moment to wash the bird shit out of her hair in between, so she was going home.
She'd give it a few more minutes, see if she could find an interesting battle, one with important people, and maybe death! A report like that could actually be something worth reporting on. So she looked over the field, passing over most battles, dodging spells, and yelling into her microphone once in a while, until her eyes landed not on her next big story, but possibly the next best thing.
"Of course you're here."
The day was not going well, to say the least. Two altercations down and now a second retreat. To say that Walden was grouchy would be an understatement. He was stomping up a slight incline and heading towards the gathering Death Eaters but he was suddenly distracted and he couldn't hide the groan or the eye roll.
"Yes, I have a very good reason to be here. What about you? Disappointed in the lack of London's latest fashions on the battlefield?" The fact that Walden had started sleeping with Rita again didn't mean that he had to be nice to her.
"Do you even know how to cast a defensive spell?"
"Your outfit takes the cake for fashion backward." Rita quirked one eyebrow and took her microphone in hand. "Walden Macnair sports the utterly unimaginative and anti-summer wardrobe of black trousers with a black leather jacket. Someone should tell him that like leather jackets are made for men half his age. I'd question where his mask his, but he doesn't really need one with the amount of unruly hair that sits atop his head" The microphone wasn't on, but Walden didn't need to know that. She dropped it to her side once again.
"It's sweet that you're worried about me, darling, but you needn't be. I have my own methods of escape. And by the looks of things, I'm looking better than you. I saw some little society twits running around, want me to call one to patch you up?"
Walden reached out and snatched the microphone away from her with a grumble and he pitched it behind him before turning back to her with a fake smile. "You need to find yourself a real job. Radio just is not for you, I fear." He glanced off in the distance and frowned as more of his comrades hobbled towards the rendezvous point, looking sullen and lost.
"I am not worried about you. I was only asking because I thought it might be humorous to drag you out onto the battlefield with me so that you might actually witness something worth reporting on that wasn't all trousers." He scoffed at her last comment. "I am perfectly fine, thank you very much. I don't need anyone to patch me up."
He squinted and leaned in to look at her shoulder. "Goodness, is that a tear?"
The microphone was no great loss to her, in fact it was more of a blessing. Now she wouldn't have to report on this crap and she could actually go home. She hated to admit it, but Walden was right; she didn't belong on the radio, well not doing fashion commentary at least, not that she'd ever tell him she agreed.
"I've watched my fair share of killing curses today. What is with those anyway? People seem to deflect them or they don't seem to actually kill if they hit." But her tangent was cut off as he leaned in closer. She batted his hand away angrily, and then glanced down to her shoulder. It was a tear! Fucking Merlin. She actually liked this dress.
"You tore worse the other night."
Walden stared at her for a moment and then he rolled his eyes. "I already told you that I would replace the blouse. It's not my fault that you dress yourself in less than quality fabrics." He reached up and tried to organise his hair slightly, picking a few sticks out of his curls and tossing them to the ground. He couldn't wait for a glass of scotch.
"It was a rather ugly blouse, you have to admit. I did us both a favour."
Rita shrugged back at Walden; she hadn't been especially attached to the blouse. "It was worth the sacrifice." She smirked, about to add more when a flash of red light barely missed her. She jumped closer to Walden, seriously unamused and slightly annoyed. "What the fuck?! These people need to learn to aim."
The rogue spell quickly reminded Walden that they were in the middle of a battlefield, arguing in their familiar fashion, and he decided that the conversation was over. He'd called the retreat and had just sent a swarm of bees at a man. Rita was just the icing on the top of a very terrible cake.
"Rita, there is a war on and you're standing in the middle of it, wearing heels. You don't belong here so either go home or trot off and interview someone who has time to deal with your bullshit." He paused. "Please."
She hated to admit it, but Walden was right. She really didn't belong here, but who cared? Smith was dead, Florence was dead, pretty soon the journalism world would belong to her as long as she stayed it out and lasted through this battle, dutifully reporting for as long as she could. This battle was going to make her the queen of the journalistic world. She could practically taste the editor-in-chief title.
But that didn't mean she had to stand here and bicker. Besides, Walden had said please. That was saying something. "Take care of yourself, old man. Those youngsters are faster than you are. Don't go getting yourself too injured, wouldn't want to break a hip or something." She gave him a wry smile and then looked around for her best exit. She really didn't feel like running, and there wasn't anyone but Walden around, so without much of a thought to his reaction, Rita closed her eyes and turned into her trusty beetle form to fly to a safer spot to report from.
Inner circle forced to
Walden had been forced to run from two separate battles in one afternoon and now he would lead the rest of the Death Eaters away in a mass exodus. It seemed so wrong to flee. This was not how things were supposed to end for them. His colleagues were falling all around him and all he wanted was some sort of instruction from the one person who terrified him more than any other living creature.
But Voldemort was dead and this was the end. How had it all lead to this? It didn't matter. He had to convince himself that it didn't matter. They could come back from this. The Death Eaters always snapped back. How was this any different?
Walden held his wand to his throat and there was an echo around him. He could do this.
"ALL DEATH EATERS WILL FALL BACK." Walden stared around the mayhem around him and a lump formed in his throat. "THIS IS AN ORDER. RETREAT IMMEDIATELY OR GET LEFT BEHIND."
Bellatrix heard the calls for the Death Eaters to retreat echoing across the battlefield. She heard but she did not listen. She did not answer to those men. Their words and orders were meaningless to her and she stormed across the grounds not to flee but in search of another fight. That the other Death Eaters were running towards the gate, fleeing like the cowards that they were, brought a renewed flash of anger and a snarled crucio went flying towards the nearest retreating figure.
"NO LOYAL SERVANT OF THE DARK LORD WOULD FLEE IN THE FACE OF BATTLE," she shrieked, her voice echoing even through the chaos raging all around. "HE WILL RETURN. HE WILL RISE AGAIN AND YOU WILL BE STRUCK DOWN FOR YOUR COWARDICE. FOR YOUR FAITHLESSNESS."
There was no distinction between friend and foe as she sent curse after curse at anyone foolish enough to step within her range. Any who would abandon their cause, who would put themselves above the Dark Lord was not on her side of this. They were not fit to call themselves Death Eaters. No, the others could run but she would remain. She would fight until she was the last one standing upon the grounds with nothing but so many ruined corpses at her feet. She would finish this.