Who: Xavier and Alastair Selwyn. What: This day is just going from bad to worse. Where: Starts at the ministry and goes from there. When: Evening, November 28. Rating: Language, so much language. Status: Closed/Incomplete.
Xavier wished he hadn't been so stuck on his pride or that his cover and the job he did with it hadn't been so important to him. If it hadn't then maybe, just maybe he would have been home by now. Or at least at Mungo's doing what he was meant to be doing. Instead he was still stuck in a holding cells, screams still echoing around him as smoke choked the air. He could hear Auror's, rescuers and Merlin only knew who and what else still calling out to each other, still screaming I've found another one, are there any healers left? and yet he was stuck basically twiddling his thumbs. Being idle was not something that he did well with and with people hurt around him and needing help, it was even worse.
At some point he had given up sitting calmly in the corner and had taken to pacing his cell, the agitation radiating from every single line of his body but he could only pace for so long before his leg started screaming at him and he was forced to sit once more only to rise moments later and begin his pacing all over again. For the hundredth time that day he wished he hadn't sent the Lestrange's on and had instead let them open the cell. His pride was going to kill him and today may very well be the day where that happened.