InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "I'm a figment of imagination"

dragonhideboots (dragonhideboots) wrote in wished,
@ 2010-05-02 22:27:00

Entry tags:

!1998: 05, !plot, bellatrix lestrange, bill weasley, fenrir greyback, fleur delacour

An Attack near Shell Cottage
Who: Bill and Fleur Weasley, NPC Fenrir Greyback, Bellatrix Lestrange, any other DE who want in.
When: After work, early evening
Where: Near Shell Cottage
What: An attack, a mauling, and much chaos
Rating: PG13 for some language, blood and gore

Things at the bank had been tense since the break in. Both Bill and Fleur had endured a good deal of questioning regarding their role, but there was no evidence to prove that they'd known the Lestranges were Polyjuiced impersonators, and their employment contracts forbade the use of Veritaserum unless there was loss of life or other probable cause, so they'd escaped punishment. That said, there was still a lot of gossip flying about between employees.

Bill, tiring of the murmurs and glances, was glad to be heading home for the day. Though their week schedules didn't always line up, both he and Fleur finished at five today and had promised earlier to meet outside to travel home. Shell wasn't walkable from Diagon, so they usually Apparated to a point just outside the wards and crossed through to the yard. With his mac jacket on, Bill headed out to their meeting point and grinned as he spotted Fleur.

"Cheers," he called. "Let's go home."

Considering the added stress of late, Fleur thought she was dealing with things quite well. Admirably, even. She didn't like all of the suspicion, and the talk amongst fellow employees about what had happened the other week. It was rude, and cowardly. If they had something to say about what they thought about it all, or about her involvement, they might do well to make it known. These furtive looks and pitiful attempts to hide their curiosity were terribly annoying, and almost worse than the worry Fleur had of being found out in the end of it all.

She was trying to put most of today's events out of her mind when she saw Bill headed towards her. The fact that she would be going home now, and got to do so with him, brightened her mood considerably. It would be good to relax over dinner, let the evening set in, not think about any of this. Reaching over to Bill, she took his hand in hers and drew him to her side before turning to exit the building.

"I have been waiting to hear those words," she admitted lightly. "As a matter of fact, I think I had only been at my desk for a half hour before the thought first entered my mind. That I would much rather be walking through the front door at the cottage than trying to ignore the fact that this whole place is a mess."

"You can say that again," he quipped, giving her hand a squeeze. "Let's get out of here."

He turned to lead the way to a side alley Apparation point, nearly crashing into a wizard that appeared directly in front of them. After much apologizing and laughter at the situation, he turned on his heels and Apparated to Shell Cottage.

As soon as his feet hit solid ground again, Bill knew something was wrong. There was a loud crack of a spell misfiring as Fleur appeared at his side. He grabbed his wand, jumping in front of her and looking around wildly. Someone was waiting; someone had found their home. Knowing Harry, Ron, Hermione, Luna, and Griphook were all inside beyond the wards made Bill hesitate to jump through and possibly reveal a way into the house. Wand at the ready, he saw a figure move swiftly to his right and he turned, firing a stunning spell.

Having found herself with no time to get her bearings upon apparating, Fleur let herself feel a visceral terror at the idea that her worst fears of late were coming true. It was only a moment, though, before she pushed the feeling down and took the defensive. Bill in front of her, she spun so that they were back-to-back - better to see in two directions at a time like this, and who knew how many were attacking? She'd brandished her wand, without even realizing it, and cast the shield charm. Her eyes searched the area for other intruders, sure that there wouldn't be a solitary attacker.

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bleuet
2010-05-06 07:49 pm UTC (link)

There were at least two figures, one hidden by a cloak and the other instantly recognizable to Bill as Fenrir Greyback, a man so corrupted by his lycanthropy that he might as well have stayed a wolf permanently. Bill flicked his wand, hurtling a spell towards the werewolf that Greyback deftly avoided and shook off a stray stunning spell like it was a bee sting.

Bill could see the glimmer of the wards around their home just a few meters in the distance. With Fleur distracted at his side, there was little chance of whispering a plan to her and he was a lousy Legilimens. Ducking a binding spell sent his way, he clutched at Fleur’s hand.

“Run,” he hissed, stumbling backwards and shooting spells. Turning, he broke into a sprint, firing spells over his shoulder and zig-zagging his path to avoid being fired at directly. Greyback, despite his hulking size, was surprisingly fast and took off after the pair, snarling. Bill heard his own heart pounding in his chest as he tried to run faster. The glimmer of the wards was just a few lengths away. Fleur was ahead just a little and as they were almost close enough to dive through, a searing pain ripped along Bill’s side. In the moment of distraction, Fenrir had gained enormous ground and was now clutching Bill’s leg, his long fingernails ripping his trousers and tearing into his hip. His wand fell from his grap as he stumbled to the ground. Trying not to scream in pain, Bill thrashed about, trying to kick off the werewolf.

“GO! GO!” he shouted at Fleur. “GO THROUGH!”

She was so close to the wards and the other Death Eater was still firing spells. Fenrir’s face was near enough to Bill’s that he could smell every putrid breath.

“So, you’re the stinkin wizard who thought he’d try to negotiate to buy off my pack and make them Dumbledore’s little pets, eh?” Greyback hissed, running a razor-sharp nail along Bill’s cheek in a sadistic caress and cutting a deep line in his face. “Didn’t your mummy ever tell you not to play with your food? Mine never did.”

Greyback lowered his head and bit into Bill’s already bloody leg. With a scream, Bill grabbed the werewolf’s tangle of hair and tried to pull him off.

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bleuet
2010-05-06 07:50 pm UTC (link)

After she and Bill had made a sprint for the wards and been stopped just short, Fleur found herself too occupied with Greyback’s hooded companion to continue on to safety. Her instincts were screaming at her to run, but instead she threw a few hexes, only vaguely aware that Bill was shouting at her to get through the wards. Something suddenly got through to her, though – the tone of Bill’s voice had changed, there was an element in it that frightened her.

The other Death Eater momentarily distracted, Fleur looked over her shoulder at where her husband still was. She hadn’t expected to see him pinned to the ground beneath that hulking brute, his leg and face already bleeding freely. For a moment, she froze.

Fleur knew she should do something, now, but her feet felt rooted to the spot and her arms felt useless. It was only when Greyback sunk his teeth into Bill’s leg again that she felt her wits return. The werewolf’s action had been so utterly inhuman and repulsive to Fleur that all she felt was a rising mix of terror and fury.

She bolted forward, not even noticing that she had narrowly avoided a hex the other Death Eater had thrown her way in doing so. Throwing her wand arm forward in Greyback’s direction, she shouted the first curse that came to mind – “Confringo!”

The back of the werewolf’s tattered robes burst into flame. At first it appeared that he was going to continue savaging Bill regardless, but then he gave a snarl of rage and bucked away as he attempted to extinguish the fire. She felt a sharp pain across her shoulders. One of the other Death Eater’s hexes had met its mark, but it seemed to have just glanced her.

Wasting no more time, Fleur fell forward and roughly grabbed at Bill’s arm, pulling him up just enough that she could maneuver a side-along apparition – she could only hope that St. Mungo’s would be able to help.

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