pl_alecto (pl_alecto) wrote in plagued_logs, @ 2016-01-03 18:03:00 |
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Entry tags: | !plot, 1999 january, alecto carrow, lucian bole, timothy blenkinsop |
Who: Alecto Carrow, Timothy Blekinsop and someone very, very, patient.
What: It’s been a long time
Where: Hogwarts Castle
When: Sunday Night
Rating: High
TL:DR Bole’s free! So long suckers!
It had only been a few weeks and Alecto was bored. She was so bored. She wanted her puppy back, even if it was more exciting waiting for something to happen inside of the castle. She wanted to know how long it would take for someone to utter the magic words around her pet, to activate his curse and set him off. She wanted Thomas’ head on a spike, just like the Mother’s. She wanted to put his head on display for everyone to see. But time. Patience. She needed to wait. And find some other way to amuse herself.
She’d been waiting on word from Rodolphus for her next assignment. She hoped it was good. All he had allowed her so far was a pet, and she had had her fun there. She was hoping for something good, for some amusement. When word had come to her via journal to find a way to free Bole, she had squealed with delight. A friend, just as gruesome as she was. Clapping her hands, she had come up with a plan quickly. She would take the next child she saw, didn’t matter who it was, and use them to her advantage.
Alecto sat by the edge of the forest, careful to keep watch for the Aurors that crawled all over the grounds. They were looking for her, she knew that. She had kidnapped two of their children, aided in killing one of them. The idea that she was so close and they were still unable to find her was exhilarating. She almost wanted to skip out onto the open grounds, out from the forest, and start a chase. But she couldn’t. She had an assignment. Even as fun and daring as something like that would have been. She couldn’t assure that she would actually get away.
There was a few hours before someone finally wandered past her hiding spot. A few long and torturous hours. Actually, she was pretty sure she had fallen asleep against that tree. But the crunching of leaves nearby shook her awake, startling her just a little bit. Alecto pushed her matted hair away from her face, watching for a second to find the source of the noise. A boy, little. Alone. Didn’t he know any better?
Alecto didn’t step from the safety of the tree line when she raised the wand. It wasn’t hers. It was her puppy’s. She had worked with it a few times since she had released him. The wand wasn’t the best fit for her, but it obeyed her. She had won it fair and square. And she did plan on giving it back, but she wanted it to have traces of the worst possible things should it ever be traced. “Reducto.”
The ground in front of the boy exploded, a tree trunk shattered, spraying shards of its wood in all directions. Before he would have the chance to run or react, Alecto was gaining control. “Imperio.” He would be hers.
Timothy wasn't the sharpest knife in the drawer but even he knew better than to go outside alone, and so close to the forest. The thing was, he'd been in such a giddy mood since he'd embarked on a fragile but hopeful little relationship with a certain tall, blond Ravenclaw that even the pressure of the honestly terrifying things that had started to happen wasn't enough to crush that little bubble of happiness, at least until the complete disaster at New Years in the Great Hall.
Aster hadn’t made him go although he’d been willing to do so, his boyfriend aware that Timothy did poorly in a crowd for all his exuberance around his friends, and so they’d escaped the incident unscathed apart from their friends and housemates being injured. He couldn’t cope with the worry and uncertainty in the castle and while he’d done a good job of staying plastered to Aster’s side it wasn’t something he could keep doing; they’d been forced to part through necessity and the pressure had overwhelmed the cat-tailed boy to the point that he’d bolted for fresh air as soon as he could.
What that had to do with his being out near the forest was another matter; trying to keep his mind off, well, everything meant that his cat-side came out for a little exercise. It was that part of him that had him in his current predicament, drawn away from the safety of the castle walls because he'd been following a rogue piece of fluff caught in the wind, of all things, a silvery hued bit of thing that caught the light now and again. It had been the metallic flash which had caught Timothy's attention in the first place and the teasing bob of the fibres had played right into that part of him that he could usually keep a better lid on.
His pupils had dilated and he'd followed the fluff further away from the castle, his sporadic leaps to try and catch it when it came close only sending it skittering away from him in the swish of air currents he caused. He was completely focused on his one goal, capturing that tiny thing, and as wary to his surroundings as he usually was it left him blind to his environment.
He was absorbed in his hunt when an explosion brought his attention back to where it should be. He sprang back, cat-tail bristling and his reflexes not enough to stop him being spattered by splinters. He might have been a twitchy thing but he was no experienced spell caster and in his shock and fright it was more than easy for the Imperio to take hold of his mind in its claws the way he would have taken the fluff. He stood, pliant and vacant, his tail dropped on the ground behind him with only the tip curled up a little like an open palm, like his mind was, waiting to be filled.
Alecto watched the boy stop, turn empty and available for her to take over. She would have loved to use a spell, to slip into his body and take complete control, but she couldn’t do that. She couldn’t leave her own body behind now, in the forest and so close to the school. She would wake in a prison cell or worse. She wouldn’t wake in her own body at all. And she would be stuck sharing the mind of… did he have a tail?
Alecto grinned. Well, wasn’t that sweet?
With his every fibre wanting to be told what to do by Alecto, it was hard not to take advantage of that. She could very well have a new toy now, but she was given a job. They had all been given a job, actually, but she wanted to be the one to complete the task. She wanted Lestrange to be pleased with her, to praise her. But now, all he wanted, was his pet. She needed to get Bole for him.
With an ugly little giggle, Alecto whispered, “Release Bole. Go to where they have him and get him free.” She didn’t know where they were keeping him in the castle. It was a large place, but surely everyone knew there was a certain tower or hallway or something that was off limits. It was surely where Aurors spent a good chunk of their days. They wouldn’t have just left Bole to his own devices. “Do what you have to do to get to him. Kill if you must.”
Blank but expectant, there was no one there behind Timothy's patiently closed expression, a semblance of life only coming back to him when he was given the direction he'd been waiting for.
Go to where Bole was, set him free, set him free even if he had to kill to do it. Sure, he could do that. He didn't have the strength of mind to even begin to try and resist what he was told, even though it was anathema to his most basic nature. He didn't have the wherewithal to ask any questions but some glimmer of his personality appeared when he just gave an eager-to-please little 'okay' and turned, setting off to make his way to Bole's cell to let him out. If he had to do anything to anyone on the way there, well, he still had his wand and who would suspect the tiny, usually over-amiable, airhead little Hufflepuff.
-
Two guards usually, but after the attack on the Great Hall there simply wasn’t the energy or manpower for two of them. Then again, had they ever really needed two at the same time? Perhaps one on a shorter shift was a better choice. It was certainly easier. Brian Ramble certainly thought so. Shorter shifts were certainly nicer. Six hours for one, six for the other. No harm - Bole was still covered - and they could help with the clearing and get a little extra sleep.
Brian was staring at the pages of a Gilderoy Lockhart book he’d found in the library when he heard footsteps coming up the stairs. His first instinct was to check the time, but it was nowhere near the end of his shift.
“Elijah?” He called, assuming something had come up to lead his partner to come up early. But no, not Elijah. A boy. A student? Wandering around the school in the middle of the night? He stood up and waved his book at Timothy.
“What’re you doing up here? Oi, this is strictly off limits to kids.”
Brian heard movement in Bole’s cell and saw the glittering eyes of the prisoner through the window. Anything different would attract Bole’s attention now. He had very little else to occupy him.
Timothy would never have gone wandering into an area off limits on purpose, not with what happened so recently to Ioan especially, and he would have bolted the other way stammering apologies if he'd accidentally stumbled into a forbidden area because of his cat instincts. As it was he gave the man in his way a guileless smile, his tail waving to and fro lazily behind him, visible in a way that he didn't usually keep it unless he felt truly comfortable in company.
"I came to get Bole out." he said, blunt as you please as though he was just asking for directions or commenting on the weather. He frowned a bit then though, taking advantage of the utter confusion on the guard's face at his brazen answer. "Sorry about this." he added. "You shouldn't've got in my way." he brandished the wand tucked into his robe sleeve and Avada Kedavra'd the hapless man before another word could be said.
He pouted a little as he studied the body regretfully, like he'd spilt something that he'd now have to clean up, but stepped over it to the cell and strained up on his tip toes to peep in. "Hallo? Mr Bole?"
Perhaps it was the tail that threw off the guard, or simply the bright-eyed innocence behind the words. Whatever it was that stopped Brian from drawing his wand the moment Timothy appeared was the thing that ultimately led to his death. Bole watched his lifeless body hit the floor with no real emotion. Of course, it was lovely to see one of his guards perish, but this one had been so boring, and his death not that much more interesting.
No the interesting thing was the little boy.
Bole was fairly certain this child was no loyalist, so his motives were questionable at best. He’d killed already, best not to be a foolish as the guard. Bole moved to the left, so he could peer out at the boy without revealing too much of himself behind the door.
“Who’re you?” He hissed suspiciously. Bole found he needed to keep the kid in eyeline, if only because it had been so long since he’d seen anyone except the Aurors and volunteer guards that he couldn’t resist. Already his mind was tearing pieces away from that soft round face and imagining high-pitched little squeals of terror. Oh it had been so, so, long.
Timothy gave the prisoner a sunny grin, even if he was a little vague in the eyes. "I'm Timmy." he assured, trying to look through the bars but struggling due to being vertically challenged. "I've come to let you out." he tugged at the door, his grin falling to a frown as it didn't magically open for him. "So, like, is there a spell or a key for this or something?"
It could’ve easily been a trick, but Bole had been cooped up for months, and he was in no mood to wait around to see. The prospect of freedom made him salivate, and he rolled onto the door, pressing up against the claw marks he’d left in the wood.
“Spell,” He informed Timothy. He looked at the slumped Auror on the ground and snarled impatiently, “Give me his wand! Put it through! Put it through!” He’d already seen that living things and food and stones could pass through. They probably hadn’t ever considered anyone stupid enough to push a wand through the spell…
Timothy jumped a little as Bole rubbed up against the door and then giggled at himself for jumping. "Oh..." he said and then tilted his head because now he was stuck if he couldn't figure out what the spell was then he couldn't get Bole out and... oh... "Oh!" he exclaimed and then moved to the body he'd just created, rooting around it with quick deft hands like he hadn't just taken a life. "Oh here!" he said gleefully when he found it, holding it aloft.
"Just through here like this?" he asked, pushing it through the bars of the cell. "Is this okay, you got it?" he asked anxiously.
Bole snatched the wand out of the air the moment it fell into his cell and found himself positively trembling with excitement. The kid had no idea what he’d just done. This was happening! This was truly happening! He had a wand!
Bole stepped away from the door, swishing the stick experimentally to get a feel for it. It wasn’t as thick or long or noble as his father’s wand, but it would do. With an excited flourish he turned and faced the wall. There was no point in attacking the door, it had been re-enforced a hundred different ways. The walls though…
Destruction came so easily to Bole, like eating or breathing. Teeth bared in a smile so wide it threatened to split his lips open, he pointed his new wand at the bricks that he’d spent months staring at. Without a sound, no hint to the sleeping and worried masses below, the stones were pulverised to dust.
Bole was free.
Giggling, he leapt out the hole in the wall and stood next to the dead Auror in the pile of grit. He almost didn’t know what to do with himself. He turned and pointed his wand at Timmy but after a moment, changed his mind. This little one was thick, or perhaps befuddled. Either way, he showed no fear… and that would not do.
“Who sent you hmm? Was it him? Did he promise you’d live? I don’t care. Come with me,” He grinned, “I want to play with you.”
Timothy jumped out of his skin when the wall beside the door disintegrated instead of the door opening, but he’d avoided being hit by anything with his dart-out-of-the-way cat reactions and he didn’t do much more than giggle and then blow at some of the dust in the air before sneezing.
He quirked his eyebrows in confusion at mention of a ‘him’ and then shook his head. “It was a lady!” he advised before skipping - literally - skipping over to Bole. “Okay, let’s play!”
A lady? Bole spent a few seconds pondering who exactly would be sending him a rescuer before he was rudely interrupted by the sound of footsteps on the stairs. He spun, momentarily forgetting about Timothy, as his second guard appeared, ready to take his shift, unprepared for the sight that he was presented with as he reached the top. He rushed to pull out his wand. He never stood a chance.
“Expelliarmus!” Bole hissed, knocking the wand from his hand. The guard - not an Auror, just a volunteer to take shifts - turned his head to follow the arch of his wand through the air. He barely had time to move before Bole was on top of him, wrestling him to the ground. With a roar of pent up fury and insanity, he slashed his borrowed wand like a knife, and every line traced by the tip sliced deep into his guard’s flesh. Bole hacked away, forgetting everything around him. This was all he’d been dreaming of. This was everything he wanted. This was what he’d been going to do to the runt that rescued him!
Panting, Bole realised he still had his little companion. But now his bloodlust felt a little more sated, and suddenly he found himself less inclined to tear Timmy apart and leave a trail of his organs like he’d been thinking. No, now he just wanted to scare him. They were so much more fun when they were scared. His smile returned, though slightly more spattered with gore, and he climbed off the body.
“Are you scared of heights?” Bole asked Timothy, ideas of torment already running through his mind. He was fighting the urge to tear the little kid apart piece by piece. He needed a new toy to terrorise. Now he was free, he wanted as many people to fear him as he could get. Oh he could visit Ioan too! So many possibilities!
Timothy had been told to spring Bole no matter the consequences and while he'd done that Bole was still in the castle and so technically not free yet. It caused some of a conflict in his head, his obedience telling him not to worry about it because Bole still needed to be free while the little part of him that thought his task was over gibbered in terror and told his legs to take it away right the fuck now!
He looked over uninterested at the man who came up and confronted Bole but the gory scene that followed had more of an impact on him. He frowned and then backed up a little, but Bole was still there and he wanted this not to be happening so he dove into that happy part of his mind that assured him there were no problems until Bole was free and everything was better and there was no blood splashed on the floor or the walls or his feet.
He wasn't smiling anymore but he looked up when Bole came over to him and tried to return the... expression... he was given. He shook his head that he wasn't, happy to answer simple questions that didn't require him to think very hard and break his happy place.
“Don’t worry, I can fix that.” The smile that split Bole’s face was cruel, and the fingers he traced down Timothy’s arm were not intended for comfort. Being this close, Bole could see the clouded spell in his little companion’s eyes. Oh, that made much more sense. It was an Imperius! Not a very good one, but the child hadn’t had to convince anyone he was still himself so it didn’t matter. This child would be so compliant, right up until his fear took over and the spell couldn’t fight it.
Bole giggled and tugged Timothy’s wrist, dragging him towards the stairs. The two of them marched through the puddles of gore as if they were rainwater, leaving a red trail off down the corridor away from the makeshift cells.
He hadn’t been inside the castle of Hogwarts for years, but this place was one you never truly forgot. As they travelled through the corridors Bole found he knew exactly where he wanted to go. There was no one around. Everyone who was still awake was helping with the great hall in some way. He aimed for the Astronomy Tower. This was risky. He’d just gotten his freedom and he was risking it already! But he wanted to repay his rescuer. He wanted to make sure he wouldn’t be forgotten. Timothy would remember him. He wanted to leave his mark!
At the top of the stairs he looked over the bannister to the bottom of the tower. It was an intimidating height for anyone, and Timothy would be no exception. Bole turned his attention back to his new toy and giggled again. With a flick of his borrowed wand he conjured ropes tightly around Timmy’s wrists. He walked forwards until he was standing uncomfortably close, his teeth still bared in a smile.
“Are you scared yet?” Bole asked in a whisper. He traced a single finger down Timothy’s cheek.
Timothy didn't really understand that comment, especially not with his mind all befuddled, but he still shivered a little at Bole's touch, something animal and basic inside him recognising the touch of a predator even if Timothy himself was consciously blind to it. The shiver came and went and Timothy happily let Bole take his hand and followed him like a lamb, his mouth twitching in a little frown for a second as he tramped through the blood but gone again because Bole didn't seem concerned.
The further he was led the less he worried, please that they were on the move because he was still supposed to free Bole even though they were going up and he was sure that there wasn't an easy way outside the castle from there. He looked worried as they got to the top of the stairs, fretting at the height and worrying that he wouldn't be able to get Bole out from here. He tugged a little but Bole wouldn't move, tied his hands in fact and Timothy felt a sharp spike of panic at being trapped.
He looked up as Bole came close, licking his lips in worry but tilting his head towards Bole's touch still, his cat instincts wanting the touch and the Imperius connecting him to Bole, however briefly. "We're really high up." he managed, dark eyes fearful. "I need to get you out, what if you fall?" he asked worriedly, his tail lashing out to curl around Bole's leg like that would keep him from falling.
Still trapped in the spell? Weak minded, Bold thought cruelly. He was about to lash out and strike him and see if he could knock some sense into him when something caught his leg. He pulled away and looked down to see… a tail?! The kid had a tail? Bole realised he’d barely even looked at Timothy. He’d been far too caught up in just being out of his cell. This gangly kid was sporting a cat’s tail! A fashion statement? Or a spell gone wrong? Bole didn’t care.
“You’re disgusting,” He sneered and flicked his wand. A third rope caught Timothy’s tail tightly. The other end lashed itself to the bannister. Bole stepped close again and pressed his wand against Timothy’s cheek. “Are you supposed to be a cat? You don’t look much like one. Here, let me help!” The same spell as last time, only far more controlled. The tip of the wand dragged across Timothy’s cheek left a shallow, stinging slash in its wake. Bole repeated it over and over, three on both cheeks. Grotesque, bleeding, whiskers.
He laughed at his own handiwork before using his wand to guide the ropes around Timothy’s wrists up, dragging him off the floor as they stretched out to the ceiling of the tower and tied themselves to the beams. Bole left Timothy suspended over the gap in the stairwell, arms pulled tight in opposite directions, his tail dragged taut to the bannister below him.
“Do you think they’ll find you?” He giggled, looking up at his pretty little display. It was cold in the top of the tower. Bole wondered if the cold would get him first. Perhaps his tail would drop off…
“Maybe I should help them a little! What do you think!?” He didn’t wait for an answer. Two more cuts; one on either arm. He tried his best to avoid the veins, if only because it was far more boring when they bled out. Slowly, Timothy’s blood trailed down his arm before dripping. The droplet fell down the tower and landed at the bottom of the stairs with the smallest of splatters, followed by another and another.
Timothy was relieved for a moment when his charge stepped back, but it was short-lived as he saw that it was only interest in his tail. He didn't have time for this, he knew he needed to get Bole out and be a good boy. Bole's words hurt and he cringed a little even with the curse on him, his head ducked down as a familiar shame swept over him. He whimpered though when something unforgiving and rough wrapped around his tail, nothing like the way Aster had touched him so gently but more the way the rude and nasty were inclined to do, hard so that he worried for the fragile bones there.
The pain and fear at someone tying him down began to clear even his unusually perceptible head from the Imperius and he started to panic as Bole stepped closer, his eyes going wide as his breath came shorter. He couldn't remember what he was doing for a moment and was confused by the fact that he felt strangely worried for the man who was pushing his wand against his face. These last remnants of the Imperius shredded away from his mind the same way his skin did under Bole's wand tip and while Timothy was too in shock to react to the first slice into his face the pain hit by the second and his panicked breathing had become hyperventilating as he screamed for the last four. He sobbed, helpless in his restraints as Bole used them to move his body as he deemed fit. He wriggled where he was suspended, eyeing the massive drop below him, his tied tail fighting to thrash as his body instinctively grabbed for stability that it couldn't have, yanking at the base of his spine until he was afraid it would dislocate.
He didn't notice he was sobbing until the tears slipped down his face and stung in the lacerations Bole had made there, dripping pink off his chin and down into the void below him. He could only whimper to Bole's first question but that was okay because it seemed rhetorical anyway. He shook his head frantically, saying no or just in denial of whatever Bole was going to do next, wailing again when he sliced up his arms, terrified that the man would flay them open. He didn't but it still hurt and he still bled more heavily than he was comfortable with. Timothy was a bit stupid but he saw the look of insanity in the other wizard's eyes and knew there was no point begging for mercy; he just hung where he was, bleeding and aching in his joints and his spine, hiccuping in tears to himself, eyes closed and only thoughts of Aster, for some reason, coming to his head.
When she lost the hold she had on Timmy, Alecto screeched from the tree line. The stupid little boy hadn’t come through for her. He had been in the castle for ages and still, he hadn’t managed to succeed. Alecto was furious and it was all she could do to track the last vestiges of the spell back into his mind and rip it to shreds. She also thought of storming the castle and killing him in person, maybe with Bole’s help. But she couldn’t risk that. She just needed to be patient. Someone was bound to set off an alarm soon. One of the Auror’s that the boy had run into and attempted to kill by her order. Either way, something was going to happen soon. And she could report back to Lestrange, though she knew she would be punished for failure.
Bole admired his work. The suspended, partly mutilated, sobbing boy was a work of art. He stroked his hand over his own chest, almost aroused by the little squeaky sounds of fear and pain. Laughter bubbled up in his chest and spilled from his lips in a series of cruel giggles. One last missing piece however…Bole raised his wand and pointed it at Timmy’s face. A rope sprang forth and wrapped around his face, over his mouth, between his teeth.
“No screaming,” Bole laughed, “See if you can spell help in your blood and maybe someone will come!”
And with that he was done. He turned and danced his way down the stairs of the tower, leaving Timothy roped above the sheer drop, trickling blood to the floor several stories below. If Timothy died, Bole would miss him, but at least they’d all know, they’d made a very, very, big mistake leaving him alive.
Bole was free.