Perdition Mods (perdition_mods) wrote in perdition_rpg, @ 2009-05-01 20:55:00 |
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Angelina Johnson, Ritchie Coote (8) vs Rabastan Lestrange Ritchie Coote was sweaty, bruised, and feeling about ready to just sit in a corner and cry and smoke until it was all over. He felt nauseous from films let alone a real live battle where he saw students he knew fall to their knees and heard screams and explosions echoing through the hall of his beloved home away from home. He shouldn't have stayed, he thought, he'd lost Ginny and Demelza and Sasha in the fray and now he was alone to do who knows what. This wasn't helping anything. He'd been following Kingsley's orders and helping with the wards and trap-charms, but then they'd had to fall back and all he could do was run. He'd managed to avoid conflicts with anyone so far, but he felt like it was only a matter of time. Now, amongst the chaos, he tripped over to the cool stone wall of a mostly-intact corridor, leaning against it and slipping behind a great statue that provided some cover. His head tipped back, lightly bumping the wall as he gazed up at the ceiling and tried to catch his breath. He'd been casting shielding charms since it'd started, and tried to heal someone if they needed, but he didn't have a vast knowledge of the magic for anything more severe than smaller open wounds. Some Gryffindor I am... he thought miserably to himself, taking this one calm moment to bend over and throw up there on the floor. His stomach felt better afterward and he shakily wiped the corner of his mouth on his jumper sleeve. "Ungroovy..." Ritchie muttered to himself. Angelina had been fighting alongside Cho Chang on their way back from releasing all of Hagrid's beasts upon the school. Somewhere along the line, she'd lost the Asian girl in the chaos. She didn't have a chance to go back for her. It was too perilous just to move forward. Chang could defend herself though. Angelina had never been one for sitting on the sidelines. She was always in the match, always right in the middle of things. She didn't hesitate to move toward the action. All of the younger faces mixed amongst the adults bothered her. She couldn't expect people not fight for their beliefs but some of them were hardly old enough to have made it through their O.W.L.S. How could any of them be expected to stand up against dark wizards? This fight required a certain level of bravado. Confidence but not overconfidence. She had the general idea what she was doing and she was still intimidated. This was not the place for children to duel. She heard Ritchie's trip in the distance. The noise startled her and she pointed her wand in his direction. Fight back now and asking questions later was her general policy. She would have sent a hex flying his way, if she hadn't caught the faintest hint of Gryffindor colours in the shadows just short of the words exiting her mouth. The sound of vomiting made her flinch. It was just a nervous kid. No Dark Lord or Death Eaters. She inhaled deeply moving closer, careful to make who she was known before her presence known. She didn't much desire friendly fire coming in her direction either. "You okay, kid?" she asked in hushed tones. She was concerned but her tone might have come off as technical and cold. This was war and there wasn't much time for cordiality when there were people wanting to kill them within hearing space. "You've got to get it together or find somewhere to hide. If I heard you, someone else probably did too. " Ritchie looked up and sighed, relieved to see it was Angelina Johnson, Quidditch captain from two years ago... wow, she'd come back. That was impressive. He nodded in reply to her though. He was okay. He was. Right? He brushed some of his sweaty fringe off his forehead. "I'm good. Just had to expel the negativity for a bit there," he replied with a horrible tasting swallow. "If you're going somewhere, I could cover you?" he offered, hoping to be useful. He was out of his element here, but he was pretty good with charms and defense he could handle. There was no question to that morality. From the opposite end of the corridor, a cloaked figure made his way into view. Rabastan Lestrange had no destination and no reason to rush, but he was keeping track of how many casualties he'd earned for himself -- the higher the number, the better. None of these whelps were worth keeping alive anyway. They weren't Pure-bloods and he doubted that any of them had any social notoriety, so he wasn't bothered by the idea of slaughter. When he saw the two standing together -- or really, the one, since Ritchie was still concealed by the statue -- he readied his wand. Quick and easy was his preferred method of fighting. "Play time is over," he called, before aiming at the girl. "Avada Kedavra!" There was no time to respond to Ritchie, she ducked and ran the minute she heard a third voice. A loud 'fuck' escaping her lips when a statue nearby shattered into a million pieces instead of her. She countered by raising her own wand aiming for the floor at Death Eater's feet and shouted 'Expulso' with all her might. If he was going for the kill right away, she certainly wasn't going to be nice about it either. Play time was most definitely over. The adrenaline rush was already kicking in. "Ritchie, create a shield!" she barked toward her partner in crime. If he was going to be there, they were going to have work together on this one. Two heads were greater than one. If she was on the attack, someone had to worry about protecting them. She didn't feel bad about giving out orders. Ritchie cowered into the wall when the statue exploded and gulped, adrenaline pumping through his veins. He fumbled for a second before yanking his wand up. "PROTEGO!" he shouted, shielding Angelina, and then casting one for himself as well. He didn't mind following the orders she gave - he probably would have been petrified with fear if he hadn't had someone telling him what to do. Ducking back behind his statue and trying not to hyperventilate, Ritchie glanced up to the ceiling for a millisecond, praying to get through this, then flailing his hand back out and firing a revulsion jinx, the best thing he could think of on the spot. Rabastan was easily able to to produce a shield charm to block the two spells -- unfortunately, the shield did nothing to prevent the ground in front of him from exploding, the force of which sent him stumbling backward into one of the statues lining the corridor. Once he regained his balance, he glared through the holes in his mask at the two -- he could see them both clearly now and he was not pleased that he was going to have to engage them. He would simply not mention this if it ever came up amongst his worthy company. A hand on the back of his head revealed that Rabastan had gotten quite a knock on the statue and this new discovery was enough to bolster him into action. He searched his knowledge of spells for something cruelly appropriate -- something that would teach them that they didn't fight back when there was a Lestrange present. Toward Angelina, he sent a Bone-Crumbling Curse, the effect of which was the rapid erosion of one's target bone or bones without any outward signs, aside from the inevitable tantrum a victim would throw if they were actually hit. Feeling rather pleased with himself, he settled on a less tactfum Sectumsempra for the boy. That should take care of that. The string of profanities that came out of Angelina's mouth when she was hit with the bone crushing curse. The only fortunate thing was that it didn't hit her wand arm. She was still pretty pissed off about it. She might be a girl but she didn't fight like one and she didn't take shit from anyone. Her temper was legendary. She'd thrown a flower pot at Fred once. She wasn't above doing a little harm to the bastard who just broke her arm. No, completely fucked her arm and she did not approve. "Defodio," she said striking back. She didn't even care where it hit. She just aimed it toward his body and hoped for the best. Maybe if she could strike, he wouldn't be able to hold Ritchie's curse. She offered the kid a glance out of the corner of her eye. She didn't even know what the fuck that was! She followed the Gouging Curse with an Impedimenta jinx to try to buy a little time. Ritchie gasped as he tried to duck out of the curse's way but it sliced into his upper arm, causing him to cry out in pain and press a hand to it as he retreated back behind the statue. Looking down to find his wand handle and hand covered in blood, his head spun and he had to look away and take a deep breath not to feel faint. Shield charms weren't strong enough, apparently, but Ritchie didn't duel he didn't know much of a variety. Panicked, he aimed his wand shakily back at the Death Eater, flicking his good arm and hoping the levitating spell would catch the man's robes and pull him off balance. He didn't want to hurt him. He didn't want to hurt anyone. Things just seemed to be getting worse for Rabastan in spite of his successful attacks -- the gouging curse gave him little time to look smugly at them, for when it took out a large piece of his shoulder, with it came the sort of pain that demanded one's attention. The attention on his shoulder also gave Angelina's second jinx a clear opening and he soon realized, with a great amount of irritation, that he was moving at a snail's pace. Thus, there was no blocking Ritchie's curse either and a moment later, he was hanging upside down. Slowly, he worked his way out of his robes and landed with a crash on the corridor floor, wearing nothing but his shoes and shorts. Fortunately, the fall seemed to have helped negate the effects of the jinx and his movements began to move closer to normal speed as he stood up again. "Expulso!" he shouted, aiming for the girl. Without waiting to see if the spell had hit its target, he turned his attention on Ritchie. "Crucio!" Angelina wasn't sure what Ritchie was playing at with light-hearted spells. Getting touch-feely with someone who wanted to kill them wasn't going to fly. Being nice wasn't going to get them out alive or safe. She couldn't help but laugh at the sight of the fully grown man being stripped of his clothes though. A low-devilish laugh escaped her lips. She would have given Ritchie a high-five if there had been enough time. She was quickly steadying her wand as soon as their opponent touched ground though. Even with a jump, the 'expulso' sent the wall behind her crumbling around. They struck her and she scrambled to find her way back out despite new pains. She sent a Conjunctivitis Curse toward Rabastan's face. Ritchie had allowed himself a small victorious smile for a second before, glad he'd prevented an attack without necessarily hurting the man opposite of him but it changed to an expression of white hot pain flooding over him. "AAAH!" he cried out, clutching at the statue next to him to stay upright and nearly dropping his wand. His eyes were just beginning to roll back in his head and his mind felt fuzzy when it stopped and his body sagged with relief. Retreating behind the statue once more, Ritchie held back the urge to vomit once more. He hated that curse so much... "Please, stop!" he called back, usually soft and melodic voice hoarse and desperate. "We don't want to fight you!" He tried, weakly throwing up more shield charms for himself and Angelina. If they didn't want to fight, why wouldn't they just let him kill them and be done with it? Children. He wasn't going to take it easy on them just because they were clearly incompetent; however, that incompetence hadn't prevented them from causing him extreme annoyance with their stupid little hexes. When Angelina's Conjunctivitis Curse hit him, Rabastan recoiled and rubbed his eyes instinctively before casting Finite Incantatem on them, allowing him to see, even if he was still moving more slowly than he'd have preferred. With a growl, he muttered the incantation to transfigure the statue supporting Ritchie into a troll. He'd like to see them find a way to stop that. And then he cast Oppugno on the debris from the wall surrounding Angelina for good measure. Angelina did want to fight. She had the spirit and the energy. She would fight as long as her body would let her. If there was air in her lungs and she was physically capable, she was going to fight back! "Don't give into him, Ritchie," she ordered dodging a thick section of wall that was flying at her head. Watching out for him and trying to keep herself safe was tiring. She couldn't do both. She wished he had more of the Gryffindor fighter instinct. In her attempt to bring down the troll, she cast a levitation charm on some of her own stone and sent it flying toward the back of it's head. Her decision to try to take out the troll left her more open for Rabastan's attacks and less aware of the debris coming at her. "Incarcerous," she managed as she ducked to avoid debris. She sent the thick ropes, charging right for his throat. "It's not giving in to - HOLY HELL" Ritchie tripped over himself as the statue he'd been hiding with bulged and became leathery to the touch. He stumbled out of the cover and could only stare at the troll that had formed beside him in complete shock. "Angelina, WATCH OUT!" he shouted, before belatedly levitating the Death Eater's abandoned robes up over the troll's head. Even if that worked, the troll would now be furious and could easily step on them. Ritchie panicked - he didn't know what to do, he wasn't a fighter, this wasn't his place, how did you reason with someone who had no morals, no more soul? "We never did anything to you!" he tried again. "There's no reason to hate like this, man, there's no reason to-" he paused to scramble out of the troll's path - which put him in the path of the older man all over again. Still lagging from Angelina's earlier curse, Rabastan put up a shield charm too late to block the ropes, which began wrapping around his throat and creeping down to his shoulders where the gouge from earlier was a sore, open wound. With a loud yell, he decided that he'd had just about enough of this tomfoolery and used a severing charm to slice through the ropes so that he could focus his hungry attention on the two students before him. The now-blinded troll was, indeed, angry and thrashing about in a violent manner only suited to something as large and destructive as him. Angelina's rock knocked him backward where he fell, leaving a large impression in the floor. But he was on his feet again in an instant and swaying wildly in her direction. Meanwhile, Rabastan was pleased to see that Ritchie had stumbled right into his line of fire. He'd always considered himself a wizard with style, so with a flourish of his wand that some might have considered poncey, he conjured a three-headed serpent from thin air and sent it hissing and slithering for the boy. Angelina was too busy fighting off the angry, pissed off troll to be able to do much to help Ritchie or the three-headed serpent. She saw it out of the corner of her eye though. It was enough to distract her long enough to take a club hit to a leg. She was down in a second, wincing at the pain. What the fuck was that shite! "Stupefy," she barked at the troll rolling around in the rubble to dodge any further attempts on her life via club. Fuck that shit! She wasn't going to die like this. She scrambled to try to get back on her feet again but she fell right back down again. This wasn't happening. She wanted to help. She wanted to protect the younger year but there wasn't a damn thing she could do for him. She was up a creek without a paddle and this wasn't going to end well. Fucking hell! Ah fuck, this man was going to make him violate an animal's rights as well?! Ritchie was pale and sweating, bleeding badly from his arm and it took all his willpower to shove himself into action against the snake. Casting a snaring charm, he managed to pin one of the three heads to the ground, hindering it's movement and giving him just enough time to avoid one head's lethal bite - but not the other's. It sunk it's fangs into Ritchie's ankle which he yanked away, howling in pain and limping back. This wasn't right. None of it! THIS WASN'T RIGHT! He squared his shoulders, eyes welling up with tears from the pain, but face determined. "You won't win, y'know!" He shouted, wand arm up but shaking so forcefully, his aim would have been faltering even if he did try and cast an aggressive spell against the other man. "Not like this - NEVER like this!" he screamed, face as thoroughly furious as Ritchie's had ever been. "The world's a cycle, man, you can't force fate's hand!" All he could do was put up another shield charm. He couldn't help but do most of his fighting with words - it was what a songwriter did. Amusement was the only thing that could have described the emotion that rose up within Rabastan at Ritchie's ever-so-poignant conviction. Summoning his robes, he allowed himself the time to put them on, finally restoring himself to a state that was somewhat decent, save for the blood dripping from his arm and the lingering redness around his eyes. The back of his head was also smarting from where he'd hit it on the statue earlier, but none of that was important since Rabastan finally had them right where he wanted them. Even though the troll had just had its sight restored, its triumph only lasted for a moment before it was hit with Angelina's stunner and made a hard fall to the floor. Once it was lying still, the troll disintegrated away to leave the statue it had once been behind on the floor. Rabastan paid it no mind, instead severing the pinned head of the snake and directing the now bleeding, two-headed snake toward the girl with a flick of his wand. Fairly certain that the serpent would make easy work of his other opponent, Rabastan closed the distance between himself and Ritchie until he was standing as close to him as he could while the boy's shield charm was still in place. "There is no such thing as fate," he said, a cool calmness to his voice. "When we are through, your soul can mourn the state of the earth as it exists without your rose-tinted metaphors." There was never a moment's peace. Angelina sent a blasting curse flying toward the snake when it got close to her, stomach turning when she watch it explode in front of her - blood and snake bits going everywhere from impact. She was so tired and she was irritated. Once the serpent was handled, she started to crawl toward the action. She needed to see what was going on but from where she was, there was an obstructed view. The words were not lost over the chaos. "NO," she yelled loudly when she heard what the Death Eater was saying. Wand dropping and large cobblestone clenching in her fist. She tossed it at his head with all the Chaser might she could muster. The frustration she was feeling about not being able to get up and properly fight him was overwhelming. She wanted to take him down and she wanted Ritchie to get out while he still had a chance. "Leave him alone, you motherfucker. He's just a child!" The stone hit him on the forehead, causing him to recoil slightly and press his hand to the area growing red with blood, which he wiped carelessly to keep it from dripping into his eyes. If he'd been annoyed before, he was doubly so now. He hadn't invited her into their conversation, particularly not to use such disgraceful language. What sort of filthy upbringing had this whelp endured to produce such a foul-mouthed brat? Levitating the stone from the floor, Rabastan sent it flying in Angelina's direction. He didn't care whether or not they were children -- they were still the enemy and he would kill them. She didn't move quickly enough in her crawl to dodge Rabastan's rebuttal. The stone impacted harshly against her skull and with a 'Hmfp' she hit the floor. There was only a few seconds of consciousness before she blacked out completely. Thick, dark blood stained her scalp but the wounds were mostly artificial. Her breathing was uneven but her body remained still. She was out for the count with little hope or quickly regaining consciousness. Ritchie was on his own. Ritchie Coote knew it, too. He heard the sickening crack of rock on skull muffled by hair and scalp, and he saw the older Gryffindor fall back. She wasn't getting up. She wasn't moving. He felt like the world had slowed down as his head swung back to stare up into the Death Eater's mask, to the black holes where eyes should be. It was hard to reason with someone who didn't have any eyes to plead to, but Ritchie knew they were behind there, and Angelina had told him not to give in. So he wouldn't. He'd stand his ground the only way he knew how. "You're wrong," he told the Death Eater again, body shaking and eyes still full of tears but face set now, pale and bruised yet determined. He let his wand fall to the side, proving his point. "This war, this killing? It's not the answer. It's going to end and when it does I'll have the lives lost to needless violence to mourn but not the earth, man." His face turned almost sympathetic. "You don't have to do this." Removing his mask, Rabastan took the opportunity to wipe his forehead one last time -- it didn't matter if the boy saw his face, since if he had his way, he wouldn't be alive long enough to tell anyone what he'd seen. He was satisfied that the girl was dead or if she wasn't, that she'd be dead soon. It was just he and Ritchie, now -- a duel to the death that was heavily slanted in his favor, just the way he liked it. Using his wand, Rabastan summoned Ritchie's and threw it across the corridor out of reach. This game of cat and mouse was over. "Do you think you can talk me out of killing you?" he said, sneering down at him. "You and your friend will make numbers three and four tonight and I will take great pleasure in ridding you of your foolish notions of war. For the losing side -- your side -- war is like the Cruciatus Curse. Try as you may, you will keep losing ground. And then you will beg for it to end, which you have already done. And then it will end." And it would, soon enough, but while he had him at his disposal, he would make sure that he had truly proven his point. Taking aim, he smirked at the boy. "Crucio." Opening his mouth to protest, Ritchie couldn't get a word out before he felt the pain again. Not just pain but pure agony - it burned, like his limbs were on fire and someone was peeling his skin. His body shook and twisted, his knees giving out and he sunk to the ground, trying his hardest not to scream. Tears streamed down his cheeks and his hands clutched disturbingly at his own shirt. When it was finally lifted after what seemed like an eternity, Ritchie fell forward, catching himself with his forearms and gasping for breath. He swallowed, wanting so much to curl up and let Rabastan do his worst, just so it'd be over. But Ginny wouldn't have wanted that, one of his friends would have. What sort of Gryffindor was he? Shoving himself back up to at least his knees, he looked up at the Death Eater, finding it almost more terrifying to see the face of a human being doing this to him. "Just because this ends..." he said hoarsely and quieter than he'd have liked. "Doesn't mean we've lost. Life goes on, man," he said with a painful swallow. With that he started to get to his feet again. With a roll of his eyes, Rabastan kicked Ritchie with the heel of his shoe to keep him from getting up. He had no sympathy for the boy and his queer way of thinking -- it made no logical sense. When life was over, it was over. One might become a ghost and there was the matter of souls, but he had long since given up pondering the ultimate fate of those who died. It didn't matter -- one could not exist on the same level when they were dead, if they existed in any form at all. Ritchie would find out what happened for himself. "No, life does not go on," Rabastan said. And with that, he took aim at Ritchie's chest. "Avada Kedavra." There was no time to retort or do much at all, even if he had been an expert fighter. He was on his knees, no wand, and alone. But he hadn't begged, and as the words left the Death Eater's mouth Ritchie was caught mid-thought of how sad a life the man must lead. His eyes glazed, lips parted slightly and his last breath was exhaled with the flash of green. Ritchie's body crumpled to the ground amongst Hogwarts' rubble, adding to Rabastan's tally for the night as it lay there, lifeless. Colin Creevey (8), Hannah Abbott vs Lycurgus Yaxley "THIS IS FOR DENNIS!" shouted Colin Creevey at the top of his lungs, throwing hex after hex into a crowd in front of him. Flashes of light were ricocheting off of walls, and he had to quickly duck to get out of the way of a particularly green one. His camera was still slung around his neck, trademark of Colin never to go anywhere without it even amidst a battle. It bobbed up and down as he ran forward looking quite wild and reckless. Nothing could have stopped him from fighting this war. Not McGonagall , not anyone. It was his place to be here, regardless of the fact that he was underage. He spent the past few months on his own avoiding Snatchers with Dennis! If he hadn't learned how to protect himself by now, he wouldn't ever be able to. "TAKE THAT!" he screamed. "AND THAT AND THAT!" Colin shot a Conjunctivitis Curse in a hooded man's direction who had his back turned. He hoped to cause the Death Eaters as much pain as he experienced this year, and then some. Only seconds before Colin arrived, Yaxley had finished casting the Killing Curse on a filthy Half-blood upstart who had attempted to attack him with a Jelly-Legs Jinx, of all things. That was the problem with those who lacked pure blood -- they never knew how to use magic properly like real wizards, although in the interest of his own self-preservation, he couldn't say that he'd rather they forsake their sadly idealistic morals in order to put up a decent fight. Whoever the idiot who just tried to curse him was, he was rather unfortunate that Yaxley's attention was no longer on his previous victim, giving him a quick second to turn around and block the spell. The surprisingly small boy standing in front of him (and was that really a camera around his neck?) looked somewhat familiar -- hadn't there been an unregistered Mud-blood who looked like him whom Rosier had killed months before? Not that he bothered paying much attention to specific ones, but he did feel as if this one was supposed to be dead already -- and if he wasn't, then he would be shortly. 'I thought Rosier gutted you already,' he said, flicking his wand and casting a non-verbal Blasting Curse in hopes of throwing him back against a wall. Colin flew back against the wall, his camera hitting it as well. The lens shattered and little pieces of glass fell to the floor before Colin followed, holding the back of his head in pain. First they kill his brother....then they break his camera. THAT WAS IT. Despite feeling like the impact of hitting the wall might have chipped a bone in his pelvis and had caused a wound on the back of his skull, a woozy Colin got to his feet relatively quickly, shooting a well-aimed Tarantallegra at Yaxley. The Killing Curse wasn't something Yaxley expected any of the combatants on the other side of the battle to throw around, but that didn't mean he was anticipating tap-dancing jinxes to be shot at him either. The spell caught him by surprise enough for his Shield Charm to go up too late, and he found his legs moving frantically of their own volition in every direction and shortly making him fall onto the floor as he tripped on his robes. He wasn't about to lighten his offence in order to play fairly, however, and as his legs still jerked about, he pointed his wand at Colin and shouted, 'Crucio!' That would buy him enough time to cast the counter-curse on himself so he could get up and finish off the Mud-blood in a more dignified manner. Because of his DA training, Colin managed to successfully block the Cruciatus Curse which bought him enough time to whip out his broken camera and snap photos left and right of the Death Eater on the floor with his legs flying ridiculously in every direction, the bright flash going off about twice every three seconds. "Smile for the camera!" he jeered at Yaxley. Snap, snap snap. He wasn't entirely sure these were going to come out since the camera had suffered some major injuries itself, but the very thought of possibly being able to use these at some point was enough to keep Colin going. Dennis would have laughed. He could almost hear him laughing. "You're such a tough Death Eater on the floor dancing to that invisible Samba beat! Cha-cha-cha! Give me a good profile shot! Gooooood. Oh---cripe!" As soon as he saw Yaxley aim at him again, Colin's eyes widened. He quickly dropped his camera around his neck and threw a blasting curse in Yaxley's direction hoping for a hit. Yaxley had been more pre-occupied with trying to cast Finite Incantatem on his legs to lift the Taratallegra and being blinded by the lights from that ridiculous contraption than paying attention to whatever the little shit was saying in Muggle tongues that he didn't have an answer to give to any of Colin's taunts. Just as he was about to cast the Cruciatus Curse on him again, however, he managed to get a Blasting Curse in, throwing him across the floor and into the nearest wall. The impact wasn't quite as bad as it could have been as he had at least tried to get out of the way, but he still arced his wand arm in front of him and cried, 'Incendio!', followed by a silent Severing Charm. He would get to Avada Kedavra shortly enough -- he'd wasted enough time with his Mud-blood as it was -- but he wanted it to come as a surprise. Colin was hit with fire on his arm, which immediately began burning through his robes and scorched his skin. In a fit of panic and pain he began to slap his arm, almost putting the fire out before he was hit with the Severing Charm. A deep gash showed up on his face as though someone had taken a sword and sliced him there and he fell to the ground, bleeding profusely. All he could think of was Dennis. Dennis wouldn't have given up at this point. He was there and he was cheering him on. And Harry. Harry was too. He'd tell him to keep going and to never give up. If Harry Potter wouldn't give up, why should Colin Creevey? Weakly, he sat himself up -- the blood on his face hindering his vision a bit. The only thing he could think of shooting at Yaxley at this point was an Insect Jinx. He did so, and he hoped that would give him enough of a distraction to move--get up--run--something. He felt like he was the victim of a firing squad against this wall and the continual loss of blood from his face wound wasn't helping him one bit. As Yaxley stood up after being blasted into the wall less than a minute before, he was momentarily distracted enough to throw up a barrier to block the spell a second too late once again -- the brunt of the jinx dissipated harmlessly against the shield, but just enough magic got through that he found himself sprouting an extremely undignified pair of antennae on top of his head and gaining a strange urge to scuttle around on the floor like a beetle. He'd have to get rid of both of those in a moment, as it wouldn't do to finally off the Mud-blood while looking like a fool -- but for now, he pointed his wand at Colin again and snarled, 'Levicorpus!' The spell pulled the boy upside-down into the air by his ankle and had him hovering a little less than ten feet in the air. 'This is exactly why Mud-bloods don't deserve to use magic like real wizards,' he said, still training his wand on Colin and glancing up with a vicious grin. 'You don't understand how to do what is necessary and use magic as it should be. Now these childish spells won't save you from dying as you should have years ago.' And with that, he lazily flicked his wand to remove the spell, sending Colin falling to the stone floor below as he quickly cast the counter-curse to the Insect Jinx on himself. "Stoooooooop!" screamed Hannah. She was carrying a large pot with Devil's Snare. Hannah wanted to distract Yaxley, because Colin wasn't looking so good. And as his head crashed on the stone floor, she cringed. But Hannah gathered herself well enough to throw the pot right at him, and rush to Colin. "Impedimenta!" she cried, her wand pointed at Yaxley. She kept her wand up, hoping that the plant and her spell would keep Yaxley busy for a moment. She cradled Colin's head with one hand. "Are you ok?" As if the circumstances couldn't get even more irritating, another one of those annoying children had to come along and -- did she just throw a potted plant at him? After the scuffle with Colin, Yaxley was more than prepared to defend himself this time, smashing the pot to pieces with Confringo and blocking the Impediment Jinx with almost lazy ease. Honestly, did any of these brats understand who they were fighting against exactly and what the stakes were? Shrubbery and tap-dancing spells against the Unforgivable Curses, really. He took a step forward towards them, raising his wand to cast the Killing Curse and finish off both of them, when something suddenly grabbed him by the arms and wrapped thick vines around his limbs and torso, pulling him back and constricting skin and muscle against bone too tightly. It had been decades since Yaxley had any experience with Devil's Snare and he clearly forgot that it became more vicious as one struggled more. Nevertheless, he raised his wand again and choked out a strangled, 'Crucio!' as a vine started to wrap around his neck, hoping the spell would hit at least one of the horrid Mud-bloods. Colin was dipping in and out of consciousness. He opened his eyes and saw a blurry blonde figure, but couldn't quite make it out. Was it Hannah? He was in so much pain he couldn't even open his mouth to speak. As if he didn't have enough head wounds already, this past one might have done the trick. His camera lay broken in pieces around his neck, a bit of the film sticking out of the edge. All Colin could see in his mind were the rest of the DA looking at him as though they were all in the Room of Requirement again, practicing spells. He remembered the first time he was able to produce a Patronus , and he remembered how happy Harry looked when he'd finally gotten it. He remembered all of the congratulations he got from his fellow classmates. He remembered how happy he was to finally fit in and have friends.... This wasn't it. This couldn't be his last moment. He was going to be a photographer for The Daily Prophet. Despite shaking furiously, his bloody hand fumbled for his wand on the floor next to him. He turned his heavy-lidded eyes toward the blur he thought was Yaxley squirming on the floor and weakly held his wand out toward him. Colin saw a jet of red light head straight for Hannah and with all of the energy and strength he could muster, choked out a feeble "Pro---tego." "NOOOOO!" Hannah shrieked. She was confused and unsure what to do for a moment, but then she waved her wand at Yaxley. "Incendio!" she cried, and then tried to grab Colin's body and drag him. "Come on, Colin. Come on. Can you get up? I can't pick you up, and I need my wand to watch h-h-him," she said. "And to g-g-get him if he tries to fight back!" It terrified her to see Colin looking so weak. "P-p-please," she said. "Can you stand? We have to get away, see. Don't worry, just stand up, and we'll get you to Madam Pomfrey and she'll fix you, ok? Colin?" Colin was like a rag doll, his head bobbing up and down lifelessly. He kept on trying to open his eyes, but he was losing too much blood and quickly. Hannah was coming in and out of his eyesight. He wasn't able to move and he looked quite frightened. Hannah needed to get out of there. He kept trying to open his eyes further to somehow convey to her that she needed to leave him. Whatever happened to him, happened to him and he didn't know how much longer he was going to be able to hold on. Flashes of his friends kept appearing in his mind, ironically like photographs... Colin had to hold on for them. He was going to make it, for Harry, for Dennis... It was not surprisingly rather difficult to block spells when one was being strangled by vicious greenery, and the Incendio hit Yaxley as he continued to struggle under the vines that had, by now, wrapped themselves around most of his body. Flames erupted along the ropes of Devil's Snare, and for the first time since the battle began, Yaxley felt genuine fear that he would be killed, and in a stupidly undignified manner at that -- strangled by a little girl's plants and humiliated by a filthy Mud-blood -- when the plant suddenly recoiled in an almost animal-like manner, unwinding from around his limbs and torso as it writhed under the fire with a silent scream. As he dropped to the floor and caught his breath, he couldn't help but be bemused about what had just happened -- had the girl thrown the Devil's Snare at him to hold him off, only to make it retreat by accident herself anyway? These children were even more idiotic than he thought they were, and his opinion of them was already quite low -- yet again, he could not complain about that if it meant the Dark Lord and his followers could get this over with without any losses. He would deal with the girl later, but by now, he had already had more than enough of the Mud-blood, with his humiliating childish spells, undermining of his Muggle-born Registration Commission, and mere existence. The last would not last much longer, however -- the boy may have countered or interrupted all three of Yaxley's Cruciatus Curses, but there was one Unforgivable Curse that no one would ever be able to block, and he took a few heavy steps forward before he cast it, aiming specifically for the Mud-blood. 'AVADA KEDAVRA!' Whatever thread of life Colin Creevey was clinging on to completely broke when a jet of green light hit him in his chest. He gasped, blue eyes wide as he stared up at Hannah Abbott in shock. He fell back into her arms, eyes glazed over and face expressionless and pale. As quickly as Colin came into battle, he went. Hannah stared at Colin in absolute horror. Her eyes filled with tears, spilling over in less than a heartbeat as she watched the spark of life leave his eyes. "Co-Colin," she said, disbelieving. "No. NO!" She looked up at Yaxley, the tears in her eyes blurring him. He was advancing on her, and she knew that in just an instant she was going to have the same fate if she did not get up, if she did not let Colin's body rest on the ground, if she did not move. "Impedimenta!" she managed, holding onto Colin with one arm, waving her wand with the other. As she ended casting the spell, Colin's body was already slipping out of her arms. "I'm so sorry," she whispered to Colin, choking on her tears. "I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry I couldn't save you." She let him down as softly as she could, and then she tried to run. Yaxley had raised his arm and been about to bring it down again to cast another Killing Curse -- he wouldn't bother with torturing the girl, not this time after the irritating mess the previous scuffle had been -- when he was hit in the chest with the Impediment Jinx. He hadn't seen that coming at all, having expected her to be too overwhelmed with fear and grief to do anything, and he missed entirely as his arm came down in a sluggish arc. That angered him, but then again, if he didn't get her now as she ran, someone else would eventually -- she wouldn't last if her antics with the plant was an indication of anything. For now, just to get in one last spell, he cast a slow, yet non-verbal Deprimo at the floor near her feet, hoping to knock her to the ground. Hannah tripped, and one of her knees slammed against the ground. She shrieked in pain, but then, remembering how Colin had died, she stood up and kept running -- she could not let herself get Avada Kedavraed. And she needed to let someone know he had been killed. |