Edgar has retired his stilettos. FOR NOW. (goodoldbones) wrote in find_horcruxes, @ 2010-02-24 16:24:00 |
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Edgar stood pouring tea in the kitchen, the pot suspended above two cups--one for himself, one for Calypso--with his wand, as the sugar dish and creamer meandered in mid-air over to the counter. They had stopped at the wake for Charity and Doc for a few moments, but left early. Cally was waiting for him in the sitting room, where they'd sat and kept themselves occupied for the past few nights, since Regulus had admitted to Edgar that the Inner-Circle had him looking into domestic warding, and the possibility of being attacked became even more real. The house was, effectively, a stronghold, and they'd elected to stay despite knowing that Bones Estate was nothing short of Fort Knox ward-wise. Five generations old, it had an outstanding number of protections--both old and new magic--applied to it. Still, Edgar had confidence in what he'd done over the years, and more recently with Sturgis' help, and at any rate, should Death Eaters manage to pay them a visit, they could apparate out. Tea prepared he carried both cups into the next room, not handing his wife hers until he was seated beside her. "Anything on the wireless?" "Just Frank's favorite," Calypso replied with a slight smile, which of course could mean only one program: Gryphon Place. There were other stations, of course, but the bad news was beginning to wear on her and she had been listening to music and reading all afternoon. "I haven't listened in a while. Apparently Epimetheus's latest girlfriend has a secret daughter locked away somewhere. Exciting, no?" It didn't matter, really, but a little idle brain candy was rather nice. Better than thinking about all the worries she carried as she took her tea from Edgar. At least now she could finally talk to Lydia about them. That was something. "A secret daughter? Oh now they're just pulling random plot out of their arses," Edgar commented idly, leaning back into the sofa and perching one leg across the other. He held an arm out for her to cuddle into the crook of his arm. "The last time I listened, Ortega's evil twin, Thadius, was impersonating him, and had gotten Astra pregnant. Did they give up on that one?" "Oh my, you are behind the Gryphon Place times," Calypso commented as she arranged herself comfortably against him. Mere seconds later she of course had a cold, wet nose nudging itself under her hand. Killer, of course, deciding to insinuate himself into the snuggles. Cally scratched his head obediently, glancing over to see Peaches still draped over the rug in front of the fire with Spike curled up in a large armchair. "Thalia allegedly killed Thadius in the middle of the New Year's Eve Ball, but he's probably going to be back. Evil twins never stay dead on Gryphon Place." Which was a nice change from the real world, where the dead people always stayed dead, except for the evil ones who tried to ensure their own immortality with dark magic. "And Astra married Aubrey to try to make the pregnancy respectable," Cally went on, shoving thoughts of death out of her mind. There had been enough of that lately. "Now he's fallen in love with her, so I'm feeling rather bad for him." "Likely Thadius will be back as a castaway found on a deserted island or something," Edgar suggested amused, unable to stop the thought that real life was never that dramatic (even though in truth, it could be, if in a different way). He took a sip of his tea, listening in as the scene with Epimetheus transitioned to Astra and Aubrey having a rather tearful argument about her issues with committment. Edgar enjoyed these moments, quiet evenings with his wife where they could shut out the world and the sometimes terrifying possibilities that lay beyond the comfort of their wards, and of the home they'd made together. Even when the threat of attack looming even closer to the front of Edgar's awareness, he could still blur it enough to just listen to the wireless and make fun of fictional people with his wife. After a moment spent listening to the dramatic exchange, Edgar snorted. "What a harlot." Cally laughed. It was always fun when Edgar decided to pass judgment on fictional people. He was just forbidden to do it when it came to her characters. "She's not a harlot, she's--" Her response was cut off by a loud bark from Peaches, who had gotten up quickly from her position by the fireplace. "Peaches, hush!" Cally chided the dog, but she barked again. Edgar paused, watching the dog curiously, sitting up with a "Sorry," as he uprooted Cally. He set his tea on the coffee table. With a flick of his wand he turned off the wireless, and then silencio'd Peaches, rendering the sitting room quiet. Killer and Spike each had their ears perked up with interest, whether for the noise the other dog was making, or for something else, Edgar couldn't tell. He stood, listening. Nothing. With a brush of his wand, he checked the wards. His stomach dropped. "Cally, we need to go." There came a time past terror when function took over past anxiety. Regulus Black was good enough at warding that it didn't matter if his mind was elsewhere at first, or that he had three Inner Circle Members breathing down his neck while he slid one Jacobi's Hex out from underneath a three-pronged Reuters Ward. The wards on the Bones home were thick and tight, but a few moments after running his wand over the length of the property, he'd already found weak points. Undoing wards was like untying a particularly troublesome knot; it required concentration and pre-planning. If he focused entirely on the task at hand, he was nearly able to ignore the happy sounds of family life coming from within the home, the slight static sound from the Wireless. He didn't need to look at the well-cared-for gardens, nor pay any mind to the candles in the window which made the elegant place look nearly homey despite its grandeur. As the Wireless went silent, Regulus's hands hesitated slightly, and he glanced at the Death Eaters accompanying him. Surely they would know that they'd been sensed. That the surprise had been ruined. But the other faces were impassive beneath their masks, and Regulus swallowed, returning to stripping the wards down layer by layer until they were thin enough to blast through. Two months ago, and he wouldn't have been so swift or silent in his wards breaking. Ironically, his position at Gringotts had given him the impetus to truly study warding - a position that the wizard they were preparing to attack had provided. Severus hadn't had the same experience that Regulus had with professional ward breaking or building, but the subject had interested him since nearly sixth year when he'd taken an interest specifically in those that might protect against werewolves, but had found the subject spilling over. Regulus might be the expert now, but Severus knew enough that he could easily make sense of what Regulus was doing and the ability to compartmentalize meant that despite the fact that he knew the Boneses were Order members - or at least Edgar was - his wand was steady as he essentially held one ward for Regulus so that he could remove the next. Like an all too complicated stack of cards that could turn nasty and bite you on the way down if you didn't remove them intelligently, the wards were coming down. He did not glance at Regulus as the Wireless went silent - he did not need to. The surprise was not likely to be a surprise at this point and they both knew it and there was perhaps some small part of Severus that was relieved. But the question was whether or not they would run, or they would stay and fight - because if the former, they had a chance, if the latter, they most certainly did not. With the realization that the wireless had gone silent, Caracatus signaled to Patrice and Isidore that he would go around the property, so that as the ward were lifted he might approach the back door. He began moving, quiet but swift, gripping his wand tightly as he took a moment--as he felt another ripple in the wards, as Severus and Regulus worked--to cast anti-apparation wards on the property. Patrice nodded at Caracatus under his mask, his hand reaching for his wand. Anti-Apparition aside, there were other ways they could get away - brooms, floo, etc - and Patrice did not intend on allowing them the time to do any of that. As he felt the ripple in the wards, and glanced at Severus and Regulus for confirmation that they were, in fact, down, he smiled under his mask. It was time that the Bones paid for their ridiculous outcry against their Family, of all things. It was payback time for the humiliating spell at Halloween as well, and with himself, Isidore, and Caracatus here, as well as Regulus and Severus, the two inside did not stand a chance. With that thought on his mind, Patrice waved his wand at the once strong barrier, both a final dismissal of the wards guarding the estate, as well as a final check to ensure he was not likely to be torn apart by walking forward. Finding the wards satisfactorily non-existent, he stepped forward, motioning at Severus and Regulus to follow them as he moved towards the front door. The two young men had done very well, and they might as well be allowed the satisfaction of dealing with such a blood traitor as Edgar Bones undoubtedly was. Isidore had never expected them to be able to completely surprise the Boneses. Taking down old family wards would never allow that but he felt they would have enough of a surprise that if Bones chose to fight - and given his background as both a Gryffindor and an Auror, Isidore felt almost assured that Bones would fight - they would have the upper hand, especially with three of the Inner Circle present. He nodded to Patrice then strode forward confidently. When they got closer to the house, he paused, waving to one of the young men to stay beside him as he would need his entire concentration to cast an Anti-Apparition ward over a house of this size. He then raised his wand and got to work. If the Boneses were going to run, they would have to do it the hard way. An attempt at apparating out had failed--oversight, Edgar, good fucking God--leaving only the floo as a method of escape. They had moments, if that, and Edgar picked up Killer bodily and got the dog into the fireplace, where the golden retriever disappeared in a swirl of green flames, arriving (barring something unforseen) in the kitchen at Bones Estate. He reached out for Spike, who (after seeing one of his companions disappear) wanted nothing to do with Edgar or the fireplace, and whined, backing away from his master. "God damn it, dog, come on," Edgar half-pleaded, just as Peaches, who was still silenced, bolted for the front door. "Cally, get close and cast a shield charm," Edgar said, and before doing the same, sent off a hasty patronus to Sturgis: "Cally and I are about to be attacked. Unsure of numbers, anti-appartion set. Need help immediately." Calypso did just as he asked. Any other time, she considered herself Edgar's equal, but when it came to this she would hear and obey. He knew what he was about, and he would see to it that they got out of this alive. They had survived King's Cross and they had survived Halloween...they would survive this as well. That was what Cally silently told herself over and over from behind the shield, looking frantically for a way out as the footsteps approached. Regulus followed the Inner Circle in. He fell back for several reasons - firstly, he wished to convey the proper deference to the older and more powerful Death Eaters. Secondly, he was still ostensibly hunting for wards that might have been activated once the Boneses had realized the danger. Thirdly, it gave him time to consider the best way to buy the Bones family time. He held no illusions. The Inner Circle were here to kill, and kill effectively and quickly, so any amount of disturbance he could wreak, he fully intended to entertain. Which was why he issued a sharp warning a handful of seconds after creating a lightening ward designed to be triggered right as the Inner Circle walked into it: "Stop, stop! There's a ward--" And then it went off, light filling the house with a sharp crackle as Caracatus Lestrange moved into its direct path. Regulus hoped that Edgar would have the presence of mind to know that that hadn't been one of the wards placed on his house, and that there were allies here, however much they had to hide. Around the back and standing on the porch, Caracatus caught the full blast of Regulus' ward as he touched a hand to the door knob. The sharp jolt of electricity rocked him, body seizing as his hand gripped the knob even more tightly. When it finally subsided, the Death Eater was panting, and he fell against the heavy wooden door, weak at the knees. It was a few moments before he found the strength to pull himself upward again. Booby-traps. Cowards. Angered, his body throbbing, Caracatus stepped carefully backward. He blew open the backdoor, and then three blasting hexes raced ahead of him into the house. One took out the wall between the mudroom and the kitchen. Another crashed into the cupboards. The last went straight down the hallway, past where Edgar and Calypso stood, and hit the grandfather clock on the other side of the sitting room. Patrice moved in after Caractus, thankfully avoiding the shock that had so pained his friend. He was equally angered at the trap, although while Caracatus took his anger out on the house, Patrice took his out on the four legged creature that was rushing towards the Death Eaters. The dog was making no noise, which was odd considering how angry it looked at the intruders. Unwilling to have any other Death Eaters injured because of unexpected dangers, Patrice raised his wand, "Avada Kedabra," he hissed at the animal and green light shot towards the poor beast stopping it straight in its tracks and it fell to the ground with a muffled thud. Let the Bones make of that as they would, he thought without mirth. Little did they know that the beast would be the lucky one, allowed the luxury of an immediate death, saved from watching its family being destroyed. Patrice planned on allowing the dog's master no such luxury. Isidore's lips thinned when he saw what happened to Caracatus and a cold anger flowed through him. So the high and mighty, righteous Edgar Bones indulged in booby traps, did he? Though the question was how such a simple thing had not been detected earlier. He looked back at Regulus and gestured for him to come closer. "You cannot do your job properly from all the way back there, boy," he snapped, even in his anger having the presence of mind not to use names. "Do not fail us again or we shall send you in first to test the wards you should have already removed." He turned away and aimed his wand at the door through which the dog had come and with a sharp word sent two quick blasting curses in through the open door to act as distraction for their next move. The house rocked from the blasting hexes, but Edgar held his ground as bits of drywall and furniture crashed around them in both the kitchen and the sitting room. With a flick of his wand up went both halves of their sectional sofa, one to the front door and one to the back and through the kitchen with as much force as the Auror could muster. He cast Flagrante on the wing chair, hoisting it off in the direction of the Death Eaters as well. Without saying anything he gripped one of Cally's hands with his free one and tugged her in the direction of the stairs. If we can get up, maybe we'll have a better chance of getting out, Edgar thought, heart racing in his chest. He couldn't keep his wits about him, not here, not while photos of his children crashed to the floor, not after watching the threshold he'd carried Cally over on their wedding night become nothing more than splinters, and definitely not after catching a glimpse of Peaches' immobile body on the floor. The shield dropped as Edgar grabbed Cally's hand. She held on tight and hauled up the skirt of her robes as they bolted up the stairs, praying that the anti-apparation wards wouldn't hold up there. If they did...Merlin, all they could hope for was time enough that they could get help. Edgar had called out by patronus, so the alert would have gone quickly, and for all that it felt as though that were an eternity ago, realistically Cally realized that no more than a minute had passed. Severus had glanced quickly at Regulus when the Inner Circle had walked into the ward. He had no proof that the ward hadn't been there, and certainly Regulus was the expert, but he couldn't help but wonder - and the wondering in and of itself was dangerous. As Mr Mulciber directed Regulus to join them up front, Severus stepped up as well. While not a particularly enviable situation, he didn't want either his best friend, or the Auror and his wife - no matter how foolish they had been to rouse up the Inner Circle as they had - to die in this raid. Still, he needed to do something, and as he stepped up, he took his cues from the Inner Circle and cast a blasting spell on one of the sofa sections, so that it was ripped apart in mid air before it could actually hit any of them. It didn't matter that Mr. Mulciber was someone Regulus was technically betraying. The reprimand stung. Regulus set his mouth and covered his eyes as fluff from the sofa exploded with Severus's blast, and hurried up closer to where the Inner Circle were standing. Here, he was watched much too closely to set off any more booby-traps, and the only thing he had bought them was time. And what good was that time, really, if the end result was still the same? No, he said to himself, eyes narrowing. It wasn't going to be the same. He might not be able to opening fight against the Death Eaters, but he could buy them time. "Furniture?" He muttered in a disgusted voice. "That's the best spell that the Deputy Head of the Aurors can manage?" Make it good, Black. Now, where would you run, if you had the opportunity? His eyes flicked up. Upstairs. But if he went behind the stairs, it stood a good chance that they would split up. Did he want to go up the stairs, or lead the Inner Circle around them? "Did he go 'round the back?" he hissed in question, already heading up the staircase, wand out, casting blasting curses hard enough for plaster to crack, exposing the brick hidden beneath. "I'll check upstairs; who's with me?" "I will go around," Caracatus said with an unimpressed tone, freezing the fiery wing-chair in mid-air and tossing it--with the slightest of flicks--into the bookcase situated by the window in the corner of the Boneses' sitting room. The force was enough to crack the thing, books and photo albums spewing forth, catching on fire as they did so. The flames quickly spread to the curtains. Caracatus then moved around to the back of the staircase, a small hallway where there was a storage closet and something that he decided (upon opening the door and surveying the space) had to be Edgar Bones' study. The Death Eater paused at the threshold, taking in the clutter, the newspaper clippings pasted all over the walls, lists, photographs, and drawings that had obviously been made by children. Who was to say whether or not this room could hold the very dirty laundry Lucius Malfoy was unable to find? He made to move forward into the space, but paused mid-step at the sounds of the floorboards creaking, however faintly, upstairs. Caracatus took several steps backward, eying the ceiling warily. When the creaking seemed to stop just above him, he aimed his wand upward, and then hissed, "Confringo!" Under his mask, Patrice smiled at Caracatus' style. Granted, he wasn't far behind on his spell either. Pointing his wand at the ceiling he echoed Caracatus confringo, with one of his own, aimed just slightly further - wherever they were standing Patrice didn't have any intention of them continuing to have floor underneath them for much longer. They had made it about halfway across their bedroom en route to the window when the floor fell out from beneath their feet. Edgar immediately grabbed for Calypso, but it was useless; down they both went in a sea of furniture, rug and splintered wood. Edgar crashed in a heap, the smack of his head against the wall distracting him momentarily from reality. Dazed he looked up and around for his wife, but was then unable to miss the lump of wood the size of a small child that had gone in through the back of his thigh and came straight out through the other side. The pain became very noticeable at that moment and Ed bit his lip at the intensity of it all as he struggled to get to his feet. By some miracle of the Gods he still has his wand in his hand and in tact and, with the slightest lurch forward, made a rather feeble attempt to cast a shield charm. Calypso didn't even have the presence of mind to manage that. One moment she was on her feet, desperately looking for an exit, and the next she was falling through the floor. The blasting curse was painful enough as it ruptured the ground underneath her feet, and the crash to the ground hurt nearly as badly. Calypso scrambled as hard as she could to get to her feet, but that was difficult in a pile of what used to be her living room ceiling and bedroom furniture. No sooner had she done so than she found herself on her knees again, screaming with the pain of a Cruciatus. Caracatus' wand was focused on Calypso, a near gleeful smirk on his face, his pleasure in the moment hidden by his mask. He spared her no pain, putting a great deal of intention and force behind the curse. Let her feel what her ignorance of her heritage had wrought for her. Let her husband watch as she suffered, unable to help her. Isidore was coldly amused by the tactics Caracatus and Patrice had used to bring the Boneses back to them. What they lacked in subtlety, they made up for in directness and effectiveness. With a flick of his wand, he dismissed the weak and feeble shield Edgar had managed then he summoned the man's wand to him. He paused for a moment to allow the man a few more moments of seeing what was being done to his wife then he cast the Cruciatus on Edgar. After all, weren't Edgar and Calypso the type to share these unpleasant sorts of things instead of Edgar shielding and protecting his wife as any proper pureblooded man should? At the sight of Cally being tortured, Edgar stomach turned and his heart wrenched, but he didn't have to endure it for long. Isidore's Cruciatus caught him square in the chest and between the pain of that and the pain of his leg, it wasn't long before Edgar had no perception of reality left to cling to, his world drowned out by the outrageous agony inflicted upon him. And then he was screaming, crying out against it. Severus watched the two Inner Circle members using the cruciatus curse on the Bones but he knew he couldn't actually do anything to stop it from happening. He was also unnecessary at this moment because there was nothing he could do to add to the Cruciatus being performed, so he stepped back, his eyes on the doors behind them. It was not entirely unlikely that reinforcements might show up and if they should, then he would rather be prepared and be able to defend against them in front of the Inner Circle, than be simply standing there staring at the curses being thrown. There was a brief sense of satisfaction in Patrice's mind as he watched Edgar Bones bleeding out in front of him. Mulciber had already utilized a Cruciatus on the man and so Patrice waited until there was a break before he waved his wand at Edgar and with a dreadful determination he flicked his wand at the man. He gave the Auror no time to recover as he threw him up against the wall, causing the entirety of the house to shake and pieces of plaster to fall from the remaining ceiling above them. Patrice gave him a moment, thinking that if he could recover enough to see his wife still being tortured, that would be only fair, before he tossed him once again. This time with a bit more force. There was little Edgar could focus on except the pain, especially once Patrice began slamming him against the walls. The chunk of wood was pushed out and back in again, the blood gushing down his leg intensely. A few more hits and the Auror lost consciousness, head lolling limply against his shoulder. Regulus stared, his face green, his wand limp in his hands. Nothing. He'd done nothing. The Boneses were practically dead, and he was standing there like an idiot. What good was he doing? What help could he have possibly given them? Gripping his wand, he eyed Patrice Nott and considered a Killing Curse. He might take out at least two of them before he-- Whatever Regulus had been thinking was irrelevant as Sturgis Podmore arrived, the rest of the makeshift unit he'd alerted swift upon his heels. Sturgis had been expecting this attack - knowing it was coming - and so he wasted no time with weaving through the guts of the house, the walls crumbling around him. For fuck's sakes, he thought to himself, seeing nothing but destruction around him - until a flash of black cloak attracted his attention. Sturgis didn't wait around, nor did he bother with a mask to hide his identity. Who'd be fooled? Everyone knew who he was, and no Death Eating fuckhead was going to kill his best mate and his wife. He threw a rather intense fire curse at one sonuvabitch, followed by a blast which hit another Death Eater against the wall. The fact that Severus had been expecting reinforcements was apparently not quite enough. And unlike Regulus, Severus had almost been watching for those reinforcements rather than trying to figure out what he might be able to do against the three members of the Inner Circle that might save either Bones or his wife. And yet, despite the fact that his eyes had been on the entrance, he was caught off guard by Podmore's arrival and only just had enough time to register who the man was, and think a shield charm would be a good idea, before he found himself on fire. "Shit," he muttered. Followed by aguamenti. At the arrival of Sturgis Podmore, Caracatus concentration faltered, and his torture of Calypso Bones ceased. The Boneses were certainly beyond the point of defending themselves; still, the arrival of the Hitwizard suggested that more DMLE would be following suite. The elder Death Eater cast both a gouging and severing hex at Sturgis, then said to the rest of the group, "Go!" Isidore was disappointed at the arrival of Podmore and he was tempted to turn his wand on both Edgar and Calypso and use the Killing Curse on them both. But there was a chance he would not get that done before the just of the DMLE arrived and it was important that all of them get out. Delaying could result in one or more of them getting caught, especially now that they had injured. He turned without hesitation at Caracatus' order and grabbed Severus, extinguishing any last flames before he dragged him out of the house in the other direction from Podmore. He was tempted to remove the anti-apparition ward but it worked for them at the moment, delaying the arrival of any further Aurors or Hitwizards. As soon as he and Severus were clear of the ward, he apparated them both back to Mulciber House. Caracatus was quick on their heels, not waiting to see if his hexes hit their target. Patrice dropped Bones against the wall, the man was unconscious, with any fortune, Patrice thought, he would die. If not he would certainly remember this evening regardless. Turning around he fired a blasting curse, and incendio at the DMLE arrival - Podmore, well wasn't that interesting? He could see that Regulus had been blown against the wall, and so Patrice flung a remaining piece of furniture in Podmore's direction, closing the distance between himself and Regulus in three steps. "Out!", he spoke sharply, but lowly to the young man, grabbing his wrist and practically pulling him in the direction that Caracatus had gone. Over his shoulder, he threw another blasting curse, not caring if this one hit its mark, or the walls behind the hitwizard. Either could provide enough of a distraction to get him and his mentee to safety. Regulus was too out of it to apparate - bloody hell he was seeing actual stars - and so he muttered as much to Patrice, trying not to stumble as they made haste to leave. Sturgis, meanwhile, had both two nasty spells and flying furniture of all things to suddenly contend with. Thankfully, he wasn't one of the upper hitwizards for nothing - physically dodging the furniture and forming a shield for the curses kept him from being injured, but it also slowed him down. He heard the tell-tale sounds of apparation, and swore under his breath. Sure enough, by the time he could see through the shadows of filtering dust, there was no one in front of them at all. At least no one on their feet. He could see one slim leg cocked at an odd angle emerging from around a crumbling wall, and he ran over, dodging falling foundations as he went. Calypso Bones, pale and unresponsive, and there was Edgar, slammed in a pool of blood like he was some goddamn cherry on top of a gore sundae. Green light drew his horrified attention skyward. The Dark Mark gleamed through a sagging hole in the roof. One of the Death Eaters must have let it go right before apparation. Fuck. Sturgis shook it off. Concentrated. This was just another case, just another two bodies on the floor. Not Ed and Cally. Not the Bones house. It was easier that way. "I need someone over here now!" |