Benjy Fenwick wants to be James Dean. (withacause) wrote in find_horcruxes, @ 2009-09-26 21:17:00 |
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Entry tags: | benjy fenwick |
Ficlet: Benjy Fenwick and the Twelve Suits of Armour
Who: Benjy Fenwick
When: This evening
Where: Brookstanton Memorial Library
What: Benjy attempts to break the curse on Gryffindor's Army
Rating: PG
As far as translations went, this one was fairly easy. Benjy didn't even need Remus's help on this one; it was in archaic and Anglo-Saxon, not quite Old English. With a fair amount of experience, he translated the nonsense written on the gleaming armour with efficiency. When he drew in a breath, Benjy was confident that he knew the exact counter-curse for this particular spell. Careful not to actually touch the shield before he'd broken its protection, he slipped his wand between his fingers and carefully slid it between the gauntlet the shield was fixed to. Concentrating deeply as was typical of him on a job, Benjy whispered the long-winded almost-song of the incantation, a mix of Celtic and old Danish that he knew the translations for, simply because he learned it as an apprentice. He was only halfway finished when eleven suits of armour awoke. Four blades forced Benjy's chin up, but made no moves beyond that simple threat, freezing right back into place. Four took a step out from their lined-up positions. Three only turned their heads in his direction. Only one was motionless. Benjy knew that a lot of these curses had clever detection spells on them, like an alarm system warning an intruder at the slightest bit of pressure. He'd been in similar situations, like the time down in Peru. The mummy of a sacrificed girl hadn't taken kindly to his interruption of her slumber and his attempt to retrieve a golden plate, and Benjy'd really thought he was going to lose his balls -- literally -- right up until she crumbled to dust and was miraculously back in her place in the frozen "snow" of her tomb. Sometimes, it was simply a wall falling around him. Other times, there were miniature explosions set all around the area to distract whoever was disturbing the peace. This collection of armour had been passed down from generation to generation, sometimes one to this family member, another to this one. Pieces had been donated, some "lost," and eventually, they'd all found their way together which was what made this exhibit so special. It was the first time in over two-hundred years all twelve suits of armour were collected. Which was why Benjy hadn't noticed that the warding went beyond the simple instructions on the chest plate of the dowdiest soldier that held the shield. Runes and puzzles were all over every set of armour in Gryffindor's Army, and each contained only a portion of the puzzle. Near the end of the incantation, Benjy's wand began to vibrate violently in his hand. Magic crackled over the metal, lighting up the library ominously. Gritting his teeth, Benjy paused for a moment to collect himself. Something wasn't right, and he knew he was in trouble. Four more suits of armour engaged, drawing their swords. Time was definitely becoming a factor, and the words rushed out of Benjy's mouth as quickly as they came into his head. Stopping only meant that the armour would engage in all out battle. The purple sparks encasing the unmoving suit of armour suddenly turned white hot and in a flash, Benjy was thrown into the air and across the library straight into a heavy oak bookshelf that most definitely did not budge in the least as he slammed into it. Not one single book fell off the shelf. Dazed and blinking, he raised an arm off the floor and looked around the library from his much-lower resting place. Confusion replaced his blank expression. "Did I sleep-walk to the library?" |