Perdition Mods (perdition_mods) wrote in perdition_rpg, @ 2009-05-01 20:56:00 |
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Kingsley Shacklebolt, Michael Corner, Terry Boot vs Bellatrix Lestrange It had been far too long since Bellatrix Lestrange had engaged in a battle as sweet as this one. This was not like the scuffle in the Department of Mysteries, or the pathetic excuse for a fight that had occurred at Hogwarts this year, not leaving a single person dead (on their side, that is). No, this was real, and it was invigorating. Her dark hair shone against the night sky, her pale face flushed with excitement. A young boy ran past her, clearly regretful he had chosen to stay this night. Perhaps he was trying to escape to Hogsmeade... BANG! He fell to the ground with a thud and a flash of green light. No one seemed willing to engage her, though, it seemed. She could only be pleased they were frightened of her, but that would not do. She had not come here to be useless to the Dark Lord. She saw, without interest, two figures, young, slim ones. How foolish the hag McGonagall was, to let these children stay. A Killing Curse for each of them was sent, with twin mutterings of Avada Kedavra. For all intents and purposes, Michael had been minding his own business, trying mostly just to deflect curses being aimed at the younger students while assisting in directing the suits of armor. When he saw the flash of green from the corner of his eye, he whirled around, managing to a suit of armor to take the impact just in time to prevent Terry or himself from dying. Unfortunately, the force of the two spells sent the suit of armor flying back into him, causing him to tumble backward until he slammed into a wall at the end of the corridor. It was painful, but he'd suffered far worse at the Carrows' hands earlier this year. So, he pushed himself to his feet and sent a stunner back at Bellatrix, determined to keep her from using that curse on anyone else. Terry liked to think that he'd been prepared for this. All the movies he'd watched, all the countless battles his GI Joes had had against his Legos (and his sister's Ken dolls, not that he'd ever admit to it), all the running around his neighbourhood having lightsaber battles with Tommy Orscheln and Phil Grayson... he'd thought that it would have helped. And, if nothing else, all that practicing with Dumbledore's Army should have. None of that had involved Bellatrix Fucking Lestrange shooting killing curses at him. "HOLY SHIT. FUCK. HOLY FUCKING SHIT! DID YOU JUST- HOLY SHIT." Terry spazzed out as the flash of green light slammed into the suit of armour, only missing him and Michael by inches. He shot a freezing curse at the woman before ducking back behind another one of the suits of armour, trying to stop hyperventilating and screaming like a little girl every time a spell whizzed past him. Michael's Stunner was deflected with only a flick of her wrist and rebounded against the castle's walls. Bellatrix gave a wry smile. Clever, to have thought to use the armour as a shield with such little time. Incendio. Flames met Terry's freezing curse mid-air and a shower of sparks rained down upon the ground. One hit her hand. It was so cold it burned. "Now, now," she said in a voice that was both cold and soothing. "That's not the sort of language you should use when speaking to your betters, young man. I thought that Dumbledore taught you children better." The bespeckled one was hiding behind a suit or armour and the clever one would surely be distracted by his own rebounding hex. That was easy enough to take care of. A yellow jet of light burst from Bellatrix's wand, no incantation muttered, and the suit of armour turned and grabbed Terry about the neck. Michael threw himself to the ground as quickly as he could to get out of the path of the deflected curse, but when he looked up, he saw the suit of armor turn on Terry and scrambled to his feet. "Stupefy!" he yelled, aiming his wand at the suit of armor before rushing over to assist his friend. This woman was a bitch! He turned to her after a few seconds and set his jaw, pointing his wand at her. "Incendio!" Terry fell to the floor, gasping for air, not liking the fact that this fight already seemed pretty miserably against the two of them. There was no time for thinking, though, not with that crazy bint playing with them. His wand immediately moved to point at the suit of armour, directing it instead to go and attack her this time. Of course, he had no idea how much longer they had until she reversed the spell to continue the game of back and forth, and decided to change his stratagy. "OPPUNGO!" Terry yelled out, shooting several stones and shards of glass from the debris on the ground in the death eater's direction, immediately following up with another shield charm. Another Shield Charm sprang up in front of Bellatrix on instinct -- flames bounced off it, then off of the shield Terry had conjured, too, ricocheting off of the walls. She ducked as the flames sailed towards her and then hit one of the brackets that held up the torches that lit the passageway. The torch skidded to the ground and the light went out, leaving very little illumination in the corridor. With barely a second to react, she waved her wand and thought reducto. The glass shards and stones crumbled to dust at her feet. "A well-performed Attack Jinx," she said lightly. She slashed at the suit of armour with her wand, but it was undeterred. As the armour made to lunge for her, she cried, "Impedimenta!" and it crashed to the ground. "The Incendio would have worked as well, but two children like you stand no chance. The Dark Lord himself has taught me magic's deepest secrets." She flourished her wand and a flaming circle sprung up about the two boys, and the corridor was suddenly alight again. Terry's instinct in having a giant circle of fire sprout up around himself and Michael was to try to blow the fire out like birthday cake candles... not that that accomplished much. Holy mother of Chewbacca, though, did that woman like to listen to herself talk. She was worse than a Bond villain... although maybe that was a good thing. She'd unveil her secret plan to the two of them and then they could foil her diabolical scheme. "You know, for someone who hates muggles, way to take their example of wizard-disposal. Kinda like burning someone at the stake, yeah?" Maybe he could distract her and then Michael could hit her while she was distracted. He cast jet of water from his wand at the flames and just kept talking, hoping to keep her busy. "But did he now? Magic's deepest secrets? That's awesome. Like what?" Was this stupid little mudblood brat attempting to speak to her? Oh, yes, it was true that Bellatrix liked to play with her food before she ate it, as Dumbledore had once said, but she did not very much like for that food to talk back, and furthermore, to mock her and her master. "That," she snarled, "Is not for you to know. You are unworthy, foul, mudblood scum. If your blood did not impede you, your currently meagre skills might have been honed and used for our Cause. But as it is..." There was a flicker of movement in her wand hand and as though an invisible hand had swept through the fire, it opened and with a great rush of wind, slapped the boy with the glasses across the face. Michael tried not to focus on the fact that he had no bloody clue what was going on -- this woman was using magic beyond any that he could perform and the thought of going up against some one who had that much mastery over dark magic was horrifying. He'd had some help with defensive spells from the DA in his fifth year, and even a bit this year, but having had no knowledge in Defense Against the Dark Arts (not that such would have even been possible this year), Michael felt very ill-equipped for this battle. When he saw he flames rushing toward Terry, he was momentarily frozen with panic -- should he try to attack Bellatrix and risk Terry getting hurt or should he help Terry and risk getting hurt himself? The choice was an easy one to make, and he aimed his wand at Terry without hesitation. "Impervio!" Had she seriously just magically bitch-slapped him? Terry's inner monologue was crying to taunt Bellatrix as to if that was the best move she had, but luckily that small shot of logic that had gotten Terry thrown into Ravenclaw kicked in, alerting him that that would pretty much be suicide in a situation he and Michael probably weren't going to live through. He sent a grateful look Michael's way for casting a spell that kept him from being eaten alive by flames, and then decided the time for standing around and chatting had long since passed. Terry shot a Conjuncitivus Curse at Bellatrix, and then quickly turned his wand towards another one of the suits of armour further down the hall, casting an ironically silent Silencio on it (so that she wouldn't hear the armour clunking down the hall) before sending it running -- as much as a suit made up of metal moving quickly could be considered running -- straight at the Death Eater. Bellatrix dodged the Conjuncitivus Curse, and it exploded with a bang of smoke and red light into the ground where she had been standing only seconds previously. She looked down at the mark with some disdain. She didn't, however, hear the armour approaching, so, with a florid rolling of her sleeves, she said, "You are playing very safe. Let's see how your friend appreciates a demonstration of real magic." She waved her wand and whispered, "Crucio," aiming for Michael. The spell barely had a chance to leave Bellatrix's lips before the suit of armour came charging straight into her, knocking Bellatrix straight toward the ring of fire. The armour moved between the Death Eater and the two boys, and with a precise movement from Terry's wand, it copied the pattern, sword swinging towards her and its shield held high to protect itself from harm -- not that it would do much good against magical attacks, which Terry quickly realised. He flicked his wand again, and with that the armour instead threw the shield at Bellatrix like a frizbee. Dumbledore. Bellatrix knew that only he could be responsible for something so inane and irritating as charming suits of armour to attack her, and as she stumbled (though not without a certain grace) towards the magically conjured fire. She barely had time to put it out -- if the brat got away, it wasn't as bad as losing her dignity to a suit of armour. Its sword tip caught in her robes and they were shrugged off before the shield came whizzing at her. An Impediment Jinx sent it hurling in the opposite direction. Actually a bit exerted, she stepped back and threw her hair off of her face before attempting to Cruciate Michael again. Kingsley Shacklebolt never actually liked killing, but he felt little remorse as he stood over the body of the masked Death Eater he had just bested. The dead man at his feet was just one less person around trying to kill students and Order members, and Kingsley had not even the time to spare to regret he wasn't able to incapacitate the man rather than kill him - there were other Death Eaters out there whom students surely wouldn't be able to defend against. His fight had gone on long enough that he no longer was near the front gate of the castle, though barely a moment had passed before he recognised where he was - and that Bellatrix Lestrange was attacking two boys not too far away from him. He was thankful there were two of them, since he well believed that just one boy against Bellatrix would not last long, but he was not going to leave them, either. Hurtling down the hallway with his wand brandished in front of him, Kingsley sent a nonverbal Muscle-Seizing Hex straight at her, the purple bolt flying through the air. It wouldn't be as strong as it should, given he didn't say it aloud, but the surprise was more vital than the strength. He would have more chances to hurt her later. "Lestrange," he demanded, stopping so he was standing a bit in front of the two boys, wand ready. Bellatrix was ready for the spell to hit the boy when something purple came seemingly out of nowhere -- it certainly wasn't from either of the boys. It hit her square in the chest and suddenly it felt as though every muscle in her body was cramping, and painfully. It wasn't, she reasoned through the pain, the Cruciatus Curse (because there would be no reasoning through the pain if it were the Cruciatus Curse), but whatever it was, it was very painful, and when it ended, she was on her knees -- her legs had buckled, unable to hold her up anymore. If she might have been embarrassed, Bellatrix was not. She rose to her feet with elegance, her chin tilted haughtily. "Shacklebolt," she snarled, recognising the man in front of it. "It is not your place to intercede." Having been holding his breath for the last few moments, Michael finally allowed his lungs to deflate with a heavy sigh. He never wanted to experience the Cruciatus Curse again, especially not one performed by Bellatrix Lestrange. He thought he'd had more than his share of torture already this year and that anyone willing to perform that curse in the middle of a duel must have been both mental and completely psychopathic, so when Kingsley bought them time, he intended to make the most of it. While Bellatrix was busy having a standoff with Kingsley, Michael crouched low against the wall and aimed a Tripping Jinx at Bellatrix's ankles as quietly as he could manage. With three opponents now demanding her attention (including a fully-trained and formidable Auror), it was understandable that Bellatrix was distracted enough by Kingsley that Michael's Tripping Jinx hit, and sure enough, as though an invisible rope had swung around her ankles and then tugged, she came crashing to the floor in a billow of robes. As though this boy would have even managed to so much as curl her hair while she was on her guard. Quickly, she rolled from her stomach to her side (having landed on her wrist, she admitted, hurt more than she would have liked, but it wasn't her wand arm, so no matter) and trained her wand on Michael. "Deprimo!" Terry should have been casting a shield spell around Michael when he saw Bellatrix's wand turn towards him. He owed him the return of a favour. And granted, he'd TRIED to help, but reacted just a little bit too late, distracted by the fact that Kingsley Shacklebolt had just swooped in to save the day. First he'd fought off two death eaters and escaped the Ministry single-handedly, and now we was helping them take down Bellatrix Lestrange with one of the most bad arse bits of magic Terry had ever seen. It was like fucking Obi-Wan Kenobi had just jumped into the fray. He tried to shake off his awe and attempt to assist the auror in the fight, shooting a blasting hex at Bellatrix. "Yeah! Take that, you death eater scum!" Terry yelled, forcing himself to not glance up at Kingsley for some sort of recognition or approval. Protego, Kingsley cast silently in front of Michael. He was acutely aware of the two boys even as he steadied his focus on the woman before him, though a small smirk crept onto his face at Terry's words. The kid had sit, Kingsley would certainly give him that - or he would if he had the time. "And it's not your place to even be here," he stated crossly, his wand out in front of him, ready for any new movement she might make. It was his turn now - to attack her before she attacked him. His wand twitched slightly. Deprimo, he cast silently, his wand pointing at her neck; then, immediately afterward, Petrificus Totalus! Bellatrix was prepared, despite the chit chat, for Kingsley's attacks, and instinctively, she thought, Protego as well. The Blasting Curse just caught her shoulder, enough to tear at her robes and scrape open a wound. It hurt, but only a little. The pain was nothing, and the blood was only a nuisance. The Full Body Bind whizzed through the corridor, banging off of the walls. Once again training her wand on Michael, she thought Accio, though she didn't know his name, and willed him to come soaring towards her. "That, Shacklebolt, is where you are wrong. This is the Dark Lord's castle now, it has been ours for a year. You are in enemy territory." Michael was grateful for Kingsley coming to their aid, particularly when he used a shield charm to keep the crazy Death Eater from using a Blasting Curse on him again. He didn't really care about what was being said between the two of them, though he was slowed a bit by his admiration for the tall Auror -- he'd heard about everything he'd done for the Ministry, fighting against Death Eaters and the like, and never really imagined that he'd meet him in person, let alone fight beside him in a duel. Distracted, Michael let out a gasp of surprise when Bellatrix's summoning charm caused him to fall on his backside. It was as though some invisible force was dragging him across the floor and in a panic, he grappled for anything onto which he could hold to prevent himself from being drawn to that woman. The first thing his hand found was Kingsley's ankle and he used all of his strength to wrap his arms around it, safe in spite of being slightly humiliated. The force seemed to be with Terry that night -- for whatever reason, Bellatrix had it out for Michael bad, and while he was terrified for his friend, it meant that 1. she probably would want to play with him instead of flat out using the Killing Curse on him (which meant that Michael would stay alive to try to fight her off) and 2. it left her distracted and Terry momentarily off her evil Death Eater Radar. What he'd done before with silencing the suit of armour had seemed to work out all right. Maybe it would work again. Sprinting off behind the fight while Kingsley was keeping Lestrange busy, Terry cast a whispered "Silencio" on his shoes, and took up a spear that was laying on the ground from one of the demolished suits of armour. Holding back the urge to yell out some sort of battle cry as he went barrelling down the hall, Terry charged down the hall as fast as he could, the spear aimed straight for the Death Eater. Merlin, what was it with this stupid boy and his luck? He should at least have been Cruciated once, and yet he was fairly unharmed. Rage was starting to boil up in Bellatrix's chest. And then the other boy, the one with glasses, came charging at her, distracting her from the dark-haired one and Shacklebolt. He had a spear. How pedestrian. "Diffindo!" Her severing charm spun through the air and sliced the spear neatly in two, so that its pointed tip sailed towards the ceiling and then clattered down onto the floor. "No," she said forcefully. "You cannot defeat me with Muggle artifacts. You cannot even attempt it." And then she conjured a bevy of spears from the tip of her wand, which sailed at her three assailants. "Oh my god!" Michael shouted when he saw the spears flying toward them. Part of him wanted to hide behind Kingsley and let him do his thing again, but then how could he be criticized for his Gryffindorish tendencies later on? With a little reluctance, he let go of Kingsley's ankle and rolled over onto his back, wand aimed directly at where the spears were shooting from her wand. "Protego!" He focused on putting everything he could into the curse, since some sorry excuse for a shield charm wasn't going to stop them from looking like porcupines when this was all over. Kingsley added his own shield charm to Michael's - a severing charm like Bella's or a blasting charm couldn't defend against so many spears without one or two getting through, but Kingsley Shacklebolt's shield, like Kingsley himself, was an immovable rock and the magical spears hit Michael and his shields and clattered to the floor. "Get up," he instructed Michael, and then to both boys, "Get behind me." They would not be hurt, not on his watch. "I'll need backup." The dark-haired boy's shield charm was strong - if they both could manage that and could protect him from behind, Kingsley could concentrate solely on attacking Bellatrix. Her death, he knew, would be a crushing blow to the Dark Lord. He sent out his purple spell again, then "Incendio!" and "Deprimo!" and "Impedimentia!" Kingsley didn't have to tell Terry twice. The moment the spear split in two in Terry's hand, he went sprinting as fast as his legs could carry him to the promise of safety behind the Auror. He wasn't quite fast enough, though, and one of the spears that had shot from Bellatrix's came streaking up behind him, the tip of the blade stabbing through the back of Terry's jeans, jabbing him in the butt. Terry let out a yelp of pain as it sliced into his rear, immediately yanking it free from his skin and sending the spear flying back towards Bellatrix with an "oppungo" spell. Kingsley's spells were deflected easily, one Shield Charm, two, three, four, the curses bounced off and rang through the corridors, zipping shards of light blasting holes in the walls. At the idea that Shacklebolt could protect these two little boys just by standing in front of them made Bellatrix laugh, a cross between a high cackle and a pleased giggle. In fact, she was so distracted by her amusement that Terry's spear end came hurling at her, embedding into her shoulder. She let out a cry of pain, but unlike Terry, didn't pull the end out of her shoulder, instead breaking off its handle and leaving it there. Thank Merlin it wasn't her wand arm. With a sweep of her wand, the debris of the walls, spears, and suits of armour began swirling and turning into a menacing cloud of green mist, which descended upon the circle of Terry, Michael, and Kingsley. Michael's stomach sank when he looked up to see whatever was happening over their heads. There was no way that his shield charm was going to prevent that from hurting them, no matter how strong it was. Death by menacing green cloud sounded had a nice ring to it, even if he'd have rather his death involved something slightly less abstract, like a lion or a bear. At least then he'd know what he was up against. He didn't have a clue what this mist thing was going to do to them. There was only one other thing he could think of, which he doubted would work, but it was worth a try. "Finite Incantatem!" he shouted, pointing his wand up at the thing. There had been a summer of Terry's young life in which he had himself convinced he was going to grow up to be an astronaut. He had all the books, all the movies, he'd even gone to Space Camp for a total of two days until he'd made himself sick spinning in the Centrifuge rings. And he was pretty sure, based on all of his extremely thorough research as a young space scholar, that the freakish swirling mist that was dropping towards them was what Death By Blackhole probably was like. Terry had the opposite idea from Michael, and instead cast the strongest sheild spell he could (after yanking off his glasses and hiding them in his pocket where they hopefully would be protected). Bellatrix was cackling with glee, she was exhilarated and happier than she had been in years, if only she could find Neville Longbottom and kill him, too, her life would be complete. She had her wand raised, watching the poisonous cloud descend upon those she was sure would be her victims, when a high, clear voice rang through the halls of Hogwarts. She stopped, listening intently. I command my forces to retreat immediately. What was this? Bellatrix was not one to disobey her master, and she had some comfort in the idea of returning to him, but it was with great displeasure that, with a wave of her wand, the green cloud disappeared and the debris inside it clattered to the floor. He had said immediately, but she didn't exactly stop, as she ran away, to shoot a depulso towards the dark haired boy. As the Death Eater took off down the hall, that whole nice thing that had been happening with Terry's luck seemed to run off with her. The debris from the cloud came clattering down to the ground, the helmet from one of the bashed up suits of armour slamming Terry in the back of the head. He stumbled forward, losing his balance, and toppled straight into the path of the blasting curse that had been aimed for Michael. The spell sent Terry flying backwards into the wall hard. He slumped to the ground, temporarily dazed, and just to add insult to injury, the little man in the portrait Terry had been blasted into flipped him a rather rude hand gesture before fleeing into another picture frame. Kingsley, who had been adding his own Shield Charm on top of Terry's, was surprised to see Bellatrix suddenly take off, and had there not been debris encircling them in the air that he was trying to protect them from, he would have taken off after her immediately. Instead, a breastplate fell onto his head and he tried his best to shield the two boys from the rest of the falling armour and weapons, but to little avail. Glancing back and forth between Terry and the corridor Lestrange had disappeared down, Kingsley sighed and went to offer the blonde boy a hand and perhaps a healing spell. "All right?" Without realizing it, Michael had been moving progressively closer to Kingsley while the cloud still lingered over their heads. So, when all of the debris fell down around them, he was in the perfect position to hide behind the much taller man. The handle of a sword came down hard on his shoulder regardless, but he was more grateful that it hadn't been the other end than angry that it had hit him. He found it strange that the woman would have disappeared so quickly, but there wasn't much time to ponder that over when Terry had just been hit by a Blasting Curse. Following the Auror's lead, he scrambled over to his friend, sliding up next to him on his knees across the floor. "Terry. Are you okay?" "But Uncle Owen, I wanted to look at the power converters," Terry mumbled as he blinked away his blurred vision. He tried to get up on his own, not wanting to look weak now that they'd won (they had won, right? Bellatrix had run away. That was kind of like forefitting) but ended up nearly stumbling back into the wall, and grabbed for the Auror's hand to steady himself. "Thanks. Yeah. I'm cool," he noted with a lift of his head and replaced his glasses, any semblance to "cool" he'd earned in that battle immediately washed away when he shoved his glasses higher by pushing on the bar that sat over the bridge of his nose. Kingsley barely noticed. "You can waste time with your friends when your chores are done," he replied quietly, more amused that this boy knew Star Wars quotes than anything else. Straightening his robe and glancing around for any more Death Eaters, he gave the two boys a nod and then a pat each on the shoulder. "You two were ace." Cho Chang, Ginny Weasley vs Edmund Nott (8) Flaming red hair blew in the wind as Ginny bounded down the hallway. There was a younger Ravenclaw on the ground, gasping for breath, looking pale and badly beaten. She rushed to their side, not able to even take a moment to panic. "It's all right," she soothed, but her voice was shaking. "It's all right. Shh... I'll get you to cover. Just hang on." Ginny needed to somehow get this kid to one of the Healers or keep him in the Room of Requirement until the battle was over. His breath was shallow. He was going to die if she didn't do something... She spotted Cho Chang down the hallway. "CHO!" she yelled, desperately waving her down to get her attention. "CHO!" Cho turned around at the sound of her name and her eyes met with Ginny's -- rushing to her side, she gave a look of concern to both Ginny and the Ravenclaw who seemed in dire need of attention. With so much happening, whatever occurred between them in the past was of no significance. "We need to get him out of here immediately," Cho said. She glanced up and down the empty corridor, but seemed doubtful that there would be a safe enough passage. "You levitate him and I'll put a shield charm on him and take him to the passage on the second floor they were telling the Hufflepuffs to take," Ginny said, standing up. "I have to go find the rest of my family, so if we get to the second floor safely I'll go from there, all right?" There wasn't any time to think and had Ginny spared a moment to, Cho wouldn't have been the one she called to for help, especially with what had happened in the Room of Requirement previous. Desperate times called for desperate measures, though. "Ready?" she asked, already starting to put a shield charm on the wounded Ravenclaw's body. Nodding at Ginny, Cho stood and used her wand to levitate the injured boy. Her hands were shaking almost violently, but she tried her best to keep composed. "Let's go," Cho replied. "I think not," came a sinuous tone from the shadows, almost kind in its gentleness were it not barbed with chilly scorn; after the voice followed a figure, enveloped in black but for its face: unmasked, unapologetic, unimpressed -- Edmund Nott, one of the Dark Lord's oldest, most loyal servants. Loyal, at least, until Voldemort had been so silly as to fall beneath the touch of a mere toddler -- loyal again when his Lord returned to hold them responsible for their indiscretions. His only regret? Getting caught shirking his duty. His only desire? To prove himself worthy of reward with the least effort possible. Girls, for example, and a wounded child; what could be easier targets with which to redeem himself? Perhaps he could drag their carcasses in his wake and decimate the morale of their 'troops.' Hah. It sounded tedious. If Theodore was any sort of good son, he'd have been at his side to do it. Pathetic coward. Probably hiding with the women, or perhaps dead already and Edmund would have to try again to produce an heir who didn't disappoint. His wand pointed straight at the levitating boy and he thought himself very charitable as he cast an Avada Kedavra. As much as Ginny hated her bad luck with Nott Sr arriving on the scene, she couldn't have been more grateful that she had cast a shield charm on the body moments previous. The deadly green light merely hit the shield, and Ginny's brown eyes widened in anger that he had attempted to kill a child, and fear that there was a Death Eater standing right in front of her. She cast a glance at Cho before readying her wand. They were going to do this. Together. Despite their past. "Reducto!" As Ginny wasted no time with her attack, Cho stepped in front of the boy and kept her wand pointed at the Death Eater. Cho hadn't expected to fight one quite like this, side-by-side with Ginny Weasley of all people. The awkwardness vanished, and she focused on preventing this man from hurting them. They had to get the boy out safely -- he was their responsibility now, and she wasn't going to let some psychopath get in the way. "Diffindo!" Cho shouted after Ginny, aiming for the hand that clenched his wand. Edmund growled as he shoved himself out of the way of the Reducto; he was getting old and wasn't light on his feet any more, especially after his injuries at the damnable department of mysteries and time (no matter how short) in Azkaban, and a blasting curse to the head wouldnt have done him any favours. "Avada Keda -- augh!" Green shuddered at the edge of his wand and then dissipated as the diffindo sliced hard across his arm. Blood sprang out over his robes, over his hand, dripping freely onto the floor, but he didn't have the time to heal himself with these two waiting, begging, to be slaughtered. "Uppity little bitch," he said with a snarling sneer, whipping his wand up despite the blood to cast another Avada Kedavra, and, for the hell of it, a cruciatus. His eyes narrowed on the boy. He'd kill him if only to teach these little girls a lesson. "NO! Protego totalum!" Ginny shouted, hoping desperately to counter Nott's spell with one large shield for them all. She could feel her fear still there in spades, but her anger was growing red hot inside of her for the fact that Nott Sr. was out to kill a child above the two with wands. It was just like a Death Eater to be so disgustingly cruel. Disappointed the slicing curse didn't do more damage, incendio left Cho's wand next, sending flames at their attacker. This time, she hoped his robes would catch fire and distract him enough for them to get the boy further away. Brilliant blue eyes narrowed for an instant before Edmund pulled himself back, drawing deep down into the dark magic he'd been taught by the Dark Lord himself. There was no way these two children, and girls no less, were going to conquer him -- not when he was here by the will of Lord Voldemort himself -- and not when Edmund still had much to prove to his master after abandoning him so many years ago. His wand slashed out again, and the air before him shuddered a moment before collapsing back on itself in a wave; with this he reflected Cho's flames, a malicious part of him hoping to scar that pretty face. As for the ginger, well. A stupefy for her shields was followed with an Imperio. If she wouldn't let him kill the little mudblood, he'd make her do it. Ginny's shield could only be held up for so long. The stunner hit her square in the chest and she went flying backward, hitting the floor hard. Luckily this caused the Imperius Curse to soar above her. Stifling a groan, she sat up, trying to scramble to her feet as fast as possible but was still quite off-kilter from the blow. "Expulso!" she yelled, pointing her wand in Nott's direction. Luckily, Nott's curse hit Cho's shield charm, but unluckily, the boy floating above them fell on top of Cho, knocking her off her feet. It proved exceptionally difficult to concentrate on both at the same time, and it took a moment for her to regain full composure. She stood, shoving him behind her, angrily yelling expelliarmus to disarm the Death Eater. Thrown backwards into a hall window by the blasting spell, Nott looked down at himself, confused. There was torn fabric and flesh across his midsection. How could that be? How could he be bleeding? These were children. Girls. He'd been in the Dark Lord's service his entire adult life. He knew some of the most foul dark spells known to man and he had fought some of the greatest wizards at his master's side. How could this be blood across his fingers? Edmund dabbed at himself with an almost pathetic uncertainty, breathing heavily as he blinked. He stepped backwards to avoid the expelliarmus, too distracted by the utterly incomprehensible fact that he'd been blown open by one of the most basic spells known to wizardkind to notice the now shattered window behind him. Had he forgotten his shield? He must have forgotten it. There was no other explanation. Across the back of his head he felt pain suddenly, broken glass. How peculiar. When he looked up finally, again, it was with a murderous confusion. Which had done it. Which pathetic girl? "AVADA --" Ginny was shocked and surprised that her blasting curse had been so powerful. She saw the terrible state Nott Sr was in on the window ledge, bleeding profusely from the back of his head. She even saw a couple of shards of glass lodged there. Both she and Cho were holding their wands out at him when he started to say the words of the killing curse. He wouldn't get the rest of it out. Not this time, not ever again. "Reducto!" she shouted, a red stream of light shooting from her wand. She hoped to blast the bastard out of the window once and for all. Cho glanced sideways at Ginny once she stood next to her again. Her grip on her wand tightened and her eyes narrowed, thinking about how many people this man had probably killed and would continue to kill if they didn't end him. It was self-defence, after all -- Cho didn't believe this one deserved a trial, as he evidently wouldn't think twice about killing them if he were given the chance. Almost in unison with Ginny, she too shouted the blasting curse at the top of her lungs. With a garbed bark of anger, Nott was thrown backwards; his fingers dragged along the edge of the window as he was shoved half through it by Ginny, grinding into shards of glass and stone. He would not go out like this. He would not. Half snarling, he'd nearly forced himself back inside when Cho's spell it him, and then, with a dreadful, animalistic noise, Edmund Nott was falling, falling, and then gone. |