|Blurred Lines Mods (blurred_mods) wrote in blurred_lines,|
@ 2009-08-31 17:30:00
|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 [28/29]
THE FINAL BATTLE
Death eaters retreat;
Atticus & Aeneas
When Atticus had finally pulled himself off the ground, neither Minerva or the bear were anywhere in sight. Thankfully, he thought as he tried to cast what meagre healing charms he could manage on his back, which was something of a challenge when he did not even know what was damaged. It was only once he twisted around (painfully) that he noticed the full extent of the tail that Minerva had given him, poking out from his trousers and seeming to wave cheerfully. When vanishing it did not work, he shoved the thing back into his trousers, deciding to deal with it later. There were more important matters at hand.
This time there was no loud, echoing call for retreat. Those who remained fighting on the grounds were not likely to listen anyway and more importantly, Atticus did not want to give their opponents the warning. Instead, he grabbed the arm of one of the still-mobile Death Eaters who was making his way toward the gates. "Tell anyone who is still able to fight that they have been ordered to the Ministry. We are finished here."
He gave one last glance around the destroyed grounds of the school and seeing his injured friend, Atticus went to Aeneas Nott and wrapped his arm around his back in support. "We are going to the Ministry," he declared, not giving the other man the option of refusing as he helped him past the edge of the apparition wards and they both disappeared.
Gaius & Lavinia
With all the fighting still taking place on the grounds of Hogwarts, Gaius should have been more concerned for his well-being, or at least more aware of what was taking place around him, but after watching his eldest sister die and fighting against two blood-hungry women, there were only two people he was looking for -- Lavinia and Eva. As fast as his injured body would allow, he ran over the razed soil, back toward where the Death Eaters had been stationed. He hoped that they both had the sense to meet there and that they were both in good enough condition to do so. The last thing he wanted to do right now was to search through the dead to find one or both of the other two people he gave a damn about.
It was Lavinia that he identified immediately and abandoning what little dignity he had left, he picked up his pace until he was at her side and wrapping his arms carelessly -- painfully -- around her.
A sigh of relief. "Thank Salazar you're alive."
The feeling was mutual, and Lavinia sobbed as she clung to Gaius, arms around his neck, still pained back forgotten. It had been fixed and now Gaius was here and even though Eva was hurt, she was alive. Everything would be better now. They could leave and be safe at home and no matter what happened they would be together and that was all she needed to be happy. She couldn't process his injuries; she was too overwhelmed that he was alive. Tears fell down her cheeks and she didn't care who was watching. Though she suddenly realised there was no disapproving glare from --
"Where is Sera?" She choked out.
Closing his eyes against the comforting, living warmth of his sister's embrace, Gaius let himself forget their surroundings for just a moment. He, too, wanted little else than to go home and salvage what they had left. The Death Eaters had lost, from what he could tell. He did not know what they were going to do next and was frankly too exhausted to consider it.
However, at the mention of Seraphina, Gaius's relief flooded out of him. "She's dead," he said, not knowing how else to phrase it and too numb to the entire ordeal to choose kinder, more subtle words for Lavinia's benefit. But he did not see fit to mention that he was there -- that it had been his fault for not paying closer attention to her. He did not want his remaining sister to think any less of him for his negligence.
Lavinia was too shocked for words. As cruel as her sister's apathy had been over the years, as frequently as she took their father's side, she was still her sister and she still loved her. She couldn't be gone. She couldn't be. But there was no looming, indifferent presence. There was no disapproval or criticism of how wet she was making Gaius's shirt. She would never come back and Livi would never get to say goodbye.
Short, gasping, hysterical sobs pushed her harder into Gaius's shoulder, and she grabbed his shirt with her balled up little fists, angry and grief-stricken. It wasn't fair. Nobody should have been dying. Everything had been fine before they'd 'won', everything had been normal and content. Gaius came home after a day's work and they had supper. She and Sera sat together sewing and reading. Now the books in their home would go untouched. There would never be the smell of fresh bread in the morning. Nothing would ever be the same.
"We have to go home NOW!" She said, with far more force than she had ever addressed anyone in her life.
Gaius was immediately taken back by his sister's tone -- at first shocked that she even knew how to speak with such vehemence before descending into irritation. He had already opened his mouth to chide her for her insolence, but was cut off by the next set of instructions. Home would have to wait.
"You have to go home," he said, keeping his expression stern to show that this was not a matter up for debate. "Tell father that Sera is dead. I will be there shortly."
Panic and anger welled up in Lavinia and she did not care if it was not up for debate. She didn't care about anything but getting away from this awful place and taking Gaius and Eva with her. What was the matter with him? Why in Merlin's name could he possibly be staying. "Where are you going?" She asked, voice as steady as she could make it -- that is, not steady at all.
"To the Ministry," he answered, reaching out to take a firm hold of her arm. It was pointless, and he knew it, but he had not spent the last several years following orders simply to ignore them when they seemed pointless -- there were, in fact, a great many orders he would have ignored prior to this if that had been the case.
"And you will go home," he said, tightening his grip on her arm to emphasize his seriousness. "I will hear no more." She had to understand that he was doing this for her -- for their future children -- so their way of life could be preserved. It was not a matter of choice, but of duty.
And Lavinia Travers had reached her breaking point. A year of misery and fear and being kidnapped and tortured and mocked and watching people die and nearly having her back broken in a stupid battle they shouldn't have even been fighting was enough. She was not losing her only brother, the only person who had ever really cared about and supported her her entire life, for some stupid fight. The Dark Lord was dead. That he could die at all was proof that this was all for nothing. She didn't care about mudbloods any more. She didn't care about their culture. She cared about their family -- the one thing that she had left and that was already torn about for ideals that no longer mattered. Gaius shouldn't go to the ministry. They'd lost. Even the inner circle had retreated.
Tears streamed down her face and she stamped her foot, almost too hysterical to speak... but she managed. "You are going to send me home to daddy and when they send us your body who is going to take care of me? They already killed Sera --" she began to choke, frustration and tears clenching at her lungs and making it as impossible to argue as her own sense of loyalty to Gaius. "I don't want to lose you too."
"Lavinia Damaris Travers, this is not how a young woman is expected to behave," he said, masking his embarrassment at her actions with anger -- it as a far easier emotion to admit to. He needed to keep fighting -- for Sera, for Eva and Livi and even for their useless, sorry excuse for a father. If their mother were alive, she would have agreed. Traverses were not quitters. He would persevere -- he would see this through to the end, even if the possibility of death was all too real after seeing so many others fall on the battlefield that day. "I will meet you at home. You will do as you are told."
Lavinia's face twisted into something between pain and unmitigated rage. She had never been this angry. She had never been angry at Gaius at all. But now she was angry, and miserable, and hateful of everyone who had put him -- them -- through this. Everyone who was going to make her practically an orphan without him. He wasn't going to come back. No one was coming back. With a choking sob of fury, she tore her arm out of his grasp, unable to say anything as she turned her back on him and, unladylike as it was, ran as hard and as far away she could.
And with that leave, Gaius took his. To think that the last words he might ever share with his sister -- the person who meant the most to him of anyone he had ever crossed paths with in his short life -- might be angry ones was not something he could allow himself to consider. Maybe she would understand, someday, that some things in life were more important than the selfish need to protect oneself or do what was in one's best interest. Gaius had made a commitment to serve the Dark Lord and as far as he was concerned, his Lord's death did not change the terms of his agreement. Live or die, he would do so with honour.
And so it was, to the Ministry.
Rufus & Moody
Bellatrix's death had marked the beginning of the end of the residual fights, for which Rufus was grateful because he honestly needed a minute to lie down and recover from the effort he'd put into killing the bitch. He and Moody were not blasted into bits or set on fire or any of the other things Bellatrix had surely intended for them, but they hurt and they were tired and recuperation was necessary before they did anything else: like lead an attack on the ministry. Rufus wasn't even sure he had the energy to think about the ministry, much less charge it, and so he leaned on Moody, eyeing his hip flask. "Scotch?" He asked hopefully.
"What else?" Moody asked, leaning back on Rufus so that he could draw the flask and take a swig before handing it to Rufus. They deserved a drink, as far as he was concerned. And they'd need it if they were going to keep going. Though injured and in pain, it was the feeling of being completely drained of all energy that made -- or rather forced -- him to pause. Bellatrix was dead and hallelujah, but their work wasn't over and Moody still could not bring himself to get up.
"Fuck," he said, thumbing the handle of his walking stick. "After this, I'm not moving. For days."
Rufus took a long draught and suddenly felt a lot better about the world as he began to hand it back, had another mouthful, and then dropped it back in Moody's lap. Good Merlin today had been a giant clusterfuck, hadn't it? In this brief moment of calm, his mind drifted to Amelia and his hope that she'd pulled through this all right, but he couldn't let her preoccupy his thoughts. Not right now. There was still stuff to do. After he sat on his arse for a few more minutes.
"Just one more thing to do, old friend," he said, holding onto his thigh where it ached in remembrance of past battles.
"And what is that?" Moody asked, snatching up the flask and tipping it to his lips again. He knew that their work was not over, but even he, at the moment, was reluctant to commit to more. Maybe after a nice, long nap or a soak in the tub. But war didn't wait for anyone. He could primp later, after he'd finished killing the sons of bitches, and then it would be truly deserved.
"Get the ministry back," Rufus said abruptly, realising that if he sat for much longer he'd never get up. Grabbing Moody's shoulder, he used it to hoist himself to his feet with a sharp groan, and then stretched out a hand for his friend. "Let's go."
"To the Ministry?" Moody groaned, thinking not only that his friend must have been joking, but that he must have also been completely out of his mind. But when it occurred to him that he was very much not joking, he put on his game face and grabbed Rufus's hand for support, lifting himself back up to his unsteady perch with a grunt.
"TO THE MINISTRY!"