Lucius Gracchus Malfoy (sans_foy) wrote in whatprice, @ 2009-05-03 00:14:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | adrian pucey, draco malfoy, lucius malfoy, marcus belby, marcus flint, oswald bole, zacharias smith |
Afterclap
Who: Lucius Malfoy, Draco Malfoy, Adrian Pucey, Zacharias Smith, Marcus Belby, and NPCs Oswald Bole, Marcus Flint, Charles Pucey,
What: An attempt at a debrief after Astoria's rescue exposes fractures in the fraternity
When: Immediately following the rescue
Where: Little Greensport
Warnings: Language
The two rescuees and all of the rescuers but one had returned successfully from the assault on the ship. Even Adrian had made it, late though he was. Now Juliet's people were tending to various injuries as they waited for the last member of their company. The lady herself had been called away by her right-hand man; Chris had gone ahead with Astoria to hospital, and someone else had seen to Romilda. One by one, the rest of them had gathered at the table where they had planned the raid some hours before.
Lucius walked in the back door and cast a drought charm on his clothes, sending the water away in droplets. "Did we have any casualties?" he asked.
Marcus' face was grim. "We've sent a few off to hospital, but so far no one appears gravely wounded." He wondered briefly how much that would matter to the elder Malfoy.
Adrian was moving slowly and leaning heavily on Bole and Flint but he was up and moving, and strong enough to argue. "--it's just a bloody concussion and I should know!" he finished as his two teammates helped him sit down at the table.
"Great- that means I get to spend the entire night trying to keep you awake!" Oswald drawled sarcastically, not exactly angry but not terribly pleased either. He let Adrian drop the last few inches into the seat and lifted the arm around his shoulders and unceremoniously dropped it towards the tabletop.
"Pins should help with that," Flint replied with a quietly dark snigger, pulling a hair pin from his disheveled hair and giving the arm around his own neck a prod with the sharpened edges.
Marcus' eyes widened in shock at Adrian's appearance. Did the crystal have no effect at all?
"Ow!" Adrian complained, but the pin had the desired effect and he relinquished his hold on Flint at once.
"He can come home with me and I'll look after him," Charles Pucey suggested. It was the first time since their return from the ship that anyone had heard him speak up.
"Fuck off, Chuck," came both Flint's dark, flat tone and Oz's sarcastic tenor, Flint pointing the hairpins in a manner that made them look more dangerous than any wand might be.
Charles, wide-eyed, started to say something, but Adrian held up a hand to silence that protest and anything else Flint and Bole might say. "I'll get in touch with Gus. He can look me over and if he thinks I need a nursemaid overnight, I'll park on his sofa." Which should be an acceptable arrangement to everyone.
"How much of that blood is yours, mate?" There was concern in Marcus' expression, but also -- irritation.
"I knocked my head when the ship started to go down. It's all mine, but head wounds are like that." Adrian's tone had enough snap to it that it was apparent he wasn't too badly injured.
"That's good to know." It was evident that there would be more discussion later. "Now could someone go over what exactly happened out there? For one thing, there were two witches brought back. That was unexpected."
"Thank you. That was my next question. By all means, let us have a review of what happened." Lucius looked around to see who was still here from the rescue team. "Who was the other witch?"
Bole took the pin out of Flint's hand and tucked it back in Flint's hair, an almost gentle motion. "Romy. Some girl out of Astoria's year, or sommat. She recognised her. Course, Astoria might be out of her head completely," he answered carelessly despite the implication. "But girl's just a slip. Healer could probably take her down without much thought if the hanger-on got to be too much trouble."
"Just... back the fuck off of me!" a loud voice called out from around the corner. "Leave- leave it alone, I said," Draco growled, pulling his bleeding arm close to him. "I said I was fine, alright?"
Looking up, Draco noticed more people had arrived, and... "Father," he called out, lifting his chin, trying to sound more casual than he felt. "You get cut as well?" he asked, seeing his father's injured arm. "Everyone make it out?"
"That's what Marcus Belby was saying. Smith and I were both injured. How were things from the air?" Lucius winced a bit as he swung his arm. The sleeve of his white shirt was tied around the wound, and it was soaked a deep red.
"I think we did well," Draco answered, a confident note in his voice. "Those little bombs of Belby's worked like a charm, and by the time we left-" he stopped, looking around the room. Well, everyone here participated in the operation, they all already must know. "I don't think anyone was left on that boat to tell what happened," he said, touching his injured arm with his wand once more, gritting his teeth at the sting.
"What exactly are you saying, Draco?" Marcus kept his tone even, but his face had taken on an obvious pallor.
"I'm saying that we couldn't leave survivors," Draco answered, his voice even and calm. "That would have made it very bad for us later," he said slowly. "Better they think the ship, and its cargo, lost at sea," he added, wanting to emphasise Astoria's safety. "Or does anyone here disagree with that?"
Adrian's head was bowed, but he said nothing.
"Delicate sensibilities, Belby?" Flint asked, the last syllable trailing into a deep, rumbling chuckle.
"Fuck you, Flint." Marcus took a step toward the man, his hand dipping into his right pocket. All of his anxiety about what had happened seemed to ball up into one knot in his gut, and he found a focus in Flint's laughter. "Needless killing makes us no better than them." He looked as though he was about to say more, his jaw working, and his hand tightening on his wand.
Under his hand, Oz could feel the shift of Adrian's weight that suggested he was about to come to his own feet, concussion or no.
Bole's right hand jammed down hard on Adrian's shoulder to keep him sitting in his chair, but his left hand moved in tandem with Flint's as they both leveled wands at Belby's movement to his pocket.
Lucius looked up, seeing Flint and Bole's posture. As Bole opened his mouth to issue a retort, Lucius spoke up. "Enough!", he shouted, slapping an empty shipping crate for effect. It sounded like a gunshot. In the moment of silence following the noise, he stood up and walked between the young men, standing in front of Belby. "First," he said to the Slytherins, "we are indebted to Marcus Belby for his assistance, which kept more than one of us alive tonight. Second, this is a stupid thing to draw wands over. We're not in school here, this is the real world and we don't have friends to waste." He turned toward Draco, lowering his voice. "Third, yes, there will be people who don't agree with what we did here tonight. This wouldn't be sanctioned by the Confederation. Given that the muggles indiscriminately killed our children, our sick and injured, and everyone capable of an official response, we're making a lot of snap judgments." He turned again, this time facing Marcus, his voice now down to his normal speaking range. "And yes, Marcus, we thought this might be what we'd do. But it was a ship full of the Muggle army, and they defended themselves and fully half of us were injured. You may not think you're in a war, but the people who are trying to eliminate us out do, and I do, and in a war, it's regrettable but necessary to kill enemy solders."
Lucius looked at all of them. "You're all young, and you're coming off the rush from after the battle. I suggest you walk away from this and think about it. You may not agree with me, and I can live with that. But please don't fight here, over this. I'd hate to have to explain to your families that we'd rescued Astoria and then found we couldn't keep from killing each other." He turned and went back to where he'd been sitting. "I've said my piece. I need to go to hospital. Tell me if I need to stay here to keep you from being homicidal."
Zach had been tended to briefly when he'd arrived early on and urged to go to the hospital, but there was no way he was missing a story. Besides, those at the hospital wouldn't be able to talk until they were stabilized and this was where the story was. He almost chimed in to defend Draco considering the amount of fun he'd had killing the muggles, but then Lucius had intervened and really, it was hard to out-rhetoric the elder Malfoy. Smiling at Lucius words, he wondered just how best to paraphrase them for his broadcast later or whether he should let them stand on their own. Regardless, he knew the wizarding world would be hearing about this glorious rescue soon enough.
Through gritted teeth, Marcus spoke directly to Lucius. "You shall have no worries of me doing any indiscriminate killing this evening, sir." His glance grazed over the group of men who clearly did not share his convictions, finally coming to rest on Adrian. "For my part, I am glad that none of our people were killed." But, such relish over killing anyone, even muggles -- clearly he had not prepared himself sufficiently for his foray into the snake pit.
Draco could tell that Belby still didn't understand, and it was on the tip of his tongue to say something to him, but his arm was throbbing now. Perhaps they could talk later, somewhere away from here, once the endorphins had worn off. Father was right, he thought to himself, looking at Lucius and frowning. The red blood stain on his father's arm reminded him that he needed tending as well. And Smith looked like he'd lost some blood as well, as pale as a ghost.
"I'm heading to the hospital now," Draco said to the group at large. He looked over at Smith, clearly injured as well. "You should come too." Turning his head once more, he looked at his father, nodding toward the door. Draco would never suggest that his father needed medical help, but perhaps he'd accompany him over there. "There may be some people at the hospital who should be debriefed," he said.
Adrian finally spoke. "I do not need hospitalisation. What I need is to go home and sleep, and someone to take me sidealong." He looked up at Bole and Flint.
Bole and Flint shared a look and almost seemed to share thoughts as Flint Apparated out without another word. "You're not supposed to sleep with a concussion, arse; remember the pins?" Oz inquired as he crouched so he could sling Adrian's arm around his shoulders. "And not the happy chinese kind either." Bole didn't say his farewells, nor did he give Adrian a chance to either as he Apparated the both of them away.
"Didn't know you cared," Zach said, giving Draco a wry smile. He was about to protest that he was fine so that he could stay here to make sure he got the real story, but it seemed that things were breaking up anyways. "Suppose it wouldn't hurt."
Charles Pucey was looking at the place where his brother had been standing only moments before. He turned to the remaining company. "If any of you would like assistance to get to hospital, I'll gladly accompany you."
Lucius smiled. "That's kind of you, Charles. I am able to apparate under my own power, although if we had a portkey, it would certainly be welcome." He looked at the remaining two wounded. "Smith? How badly hurt are you? Do you want Charles' assistance?"
"Got hit in the side," Zach said, as he got to his feet without swaying, which he considered to be a victory.
"Then a sidealong is definitely in order." Charles moved to offer his arm to Zach.
Lucius nodded to Charles. "We'll see you in Wales. We can talk more there, if they let us." He turned to Charles. "Let's not talk too much about this. Word will get out despite us, and it would be better that way."
Draco watched as the teams left, singly and in pairs. Giving his father a satisfied look, he glanced once more at Lucius' injured arm. Clearing his throat, he asked, "Are you coming, Father?", with more than a hint of expectation there.
"I'd offer you my arm, but we're both wounded in the same one." Lucius stepped over to Draco. "Do you need a sidealong?", he asked, raising his wand.
Draco laughed at their similar injuries. "I dare say Mother wouldn't think this funny, but I do." Placing his right hand lightly on his father's arm, he shook his head. "I don't require assistance," he said. "I would like some company over there, if you had the time to spare."
Closing his eyes, he gathered the power within himself, preparing to leave this place. He felt his father next to him doing the same, and despite the pain in his arm and the weariness from the days activities, he felt more calm and at peace than he had since he returned.
Draco felt his father Apparate, and moments later followed suit.
Marcus sighed heavily, finally allowing himself to sag against the wall behind him. Having Astoria back should be worth any price. He was sure it was. Almost sure. Straightening up, he took one last look around the empty warehouse and, with a shake of his head, he disappeared with a quiet pop.