*She doesn't even bother gracing Lucius' obvious little twitch with a reply. Bellatrix is calm, with that almost preternatural euphoria that sets in when she's doing the Dark Lord's work. That this is an especially dangerous mission only has her calmer, almost high with it.
That puttyish Spaniard of an informant has provided a clear layout of this flat, and she's studied it carefully over long hours, so it almost feels like home as she steps sure-footed and silently over the hearth and into the living room. Kitchen to the left, hall to the right, first bedroom (Gideon's), then second (Fabian's, slightly larger, western exposure). The Aurors are not only dangerous but deadly, and exponentially more so together. That's why it's imperative they be dealt with silently and individually. If all goes well, it won't be hard at all: silence the first bedroom, kill the sleeping Auror, move onto the second, and repeat. They'll have plenty of time for play after that
( ... )
*He follows behind Rodolphus; Lestrange can handle is wife, and Lucius can babysit Evan and Igor, hopefully, will just keep his hands to himself until this is done with.
The bedroom door isn't locked. The flat is probably warded to within an inch of its life, but doubtless the Prewett twins never believed anyone would get inside; why bother with interior locks? It swings silently inward, and Lucius can see past Bella and Rodolphus into the room, can pick out the dim shape of wardrobe, shelves, bed, and in it, a pile of blankets that's no doubt breathing softly.*
*When Fabian wakes, it's absolute; there's no grogginess, no halfway point between sleep and sharply alert. He knows, as he's known before, immediately and unquestionably, that Something Is Wrong and that he has to get to Gideon. Now.
The last time this happened, Gid had gotten hurt on a case in Ipswich, and Fabian had gotten to St. Mungo's before even he had without having to be told he was on his way. This is no different, there's just a sickening, unfaltering certainty of what he has to do, and within seconds he's got his wand and he's crashing out his bedroom door and into the hall, shoulder colliding with the corridor wall, blasting a curse at the first Death Eater in sight. He's not even surprised to see them there - his adrenaline's shot from zero to skyrocket in just heartbeats - and he stands his ground in boxer shorts and a Pac Man t-shirt, wand leveled at the other four Death Eaters.*
*The summer between graduation and Auror training had been a good one. They'd traveled together, maybe not in style, but far and wide. The swimming hole had been in Darwin, Australia, spring-fed and difficult to get to
( ... )
*It's Roddy they've hit, as he was just behind Bella. As he falls, he only has time to think: well, at least it wasn't Bella they hit. But the curse is nonlethal, and the thing seems to only be a simple blast of unfocused force, and the fall seems to have hurt hm just as much as the curse has. He's woozy, off his feet, but his unregistered wand is unbroken, and even on the floor he can cast a preemptive shield charm on his wife.*
*Evan dances back from Roddy with a squeal, and casts a curse that goes more into the ceiling than anywhere useful. Still, even as its impact shakes the light fixtures and his back meets the far wall away from the pair of Aurors, he's fumbling in his cloak for the asked-after toys of his father's--and there it is, in a bit of tissue paper, a nasty little device that, when it touches skin, it begins chewing away at the flesh until the flesh it's attached to is removed from the body, or it's consumed entirely. The spiky little sphere looks so innocent in his hand, until he lifts it with his new wand and sends it flying at one of the Aurors.*
*And now both Aurors are awake and fighting, which is precisely what they've tried to avoid. Fucking hell. What's worse, they're caught between the two of them, and the air is suddenly full of curses and hoarse shouts and fucking comic books and it is, briefly, chaos. The only thing that saves Bellatrix from being knocked to the floor in a swirl of Martin Miggs the Mad Muggle is Roddy's shield charm.
Not that she knows it, of course. She's firing off curses of her own so rapidly she isn't even sure what they are, her back to Lucius and one of her boots squarely on Roddy's shoulder. Precisely as Evan sends the little spiked ball at Fabian, she kicks her husband--not very hard, though.*
*He knew this would happen, he knew it - keeping back to back with Bellatrix, Lucius snarls furiously and lashes out with Crucio at Gideon, having to just trust that Evan's toy will keep Fabian occupied. If they can get them both incapacitated they can still pull this off, but it's their only option at this point, and Lucius is not going to die like this, not because Bellatrix can't string together a damned raid party.*
*The thing (whatever it is, Fabian doesn't have time to see it before it's on him) lands squarely in the middle of his chest. The effect is immediate and devastating, little metal teeth making short work of Pac Man and gnawing rapidly through to flesh. Fabian doesn't even register the pain before blood soaks hot into his shirt around the hole that's there. He has time to get off one more curse, this one aimed to kill, and sees one of the Death Eaters collapse twitching and lifeless to the floor
( ... )
*He's alive, and very loud, but that's about as eloquent as he can manage just now: he's deflected Crucio, mostly, but the force of the diverted curse tears open his cheek and takes a considerable chunk out of the wall behind him. He doesn't blink--he's still fighting, still moving to distract and destabilize them, to get the split-second advantage that will make the fight and win it and get them out of here alive. Because that's the only option, right now, the only thing at all in the world: they're going to kill these bastards and get out of here alive.
There's an area rug under the man's feet, and in the blink of an eye it's a cat, still rug-colored but yowling and spitting and not appreciative of being stepped on. It claws its way up his leg, hissing and spitting and furious, and that buys Gideon an instant to lunge forward too, with a raw shout that sounds a bit like his brother's name
( ... )
*The room is rather small for seven, and it's even smaller for seven and the tiger or panther or whatever rug-colored vicious monstrosity that is presently trying to disembowel him. The first killing curse goes wide; the second hits it squarely, but it does nothing, and of course it does nothing, it's a bloody rug, it's not really alive. The curse only seems to anger it and, with a terrible yowl and his own horrified little scream, the cat pounces and sends him tumbling to the floor.*
*Though Bella's foot in his side has done nothing to make it easier, Roddy still rises at her side, holding a stinking sulfurous flame at the point of his wand. His arm lashes up and the flame extends like a whip, reaching toward the one who's fallen, ready to tie him up in flame and yank him into the air, that Bella might have an easier time finishing him off.*
*The flame grabs him around the armpits and lifts, and Gideon is suddenly in a position to observe that he's on fire. But the pain and the stink of it is immaterial because it's yanking him up, up, and he'll be a sitting duck up there--he can see the woman raising her wand to deliver the Killing Curse--but he knows the curse--Hexcorrigiatus or something stupid like that--and the counter-curse, what is it--*
Arenaceous!
*--and the rope is dissolving into sand and it isn't burning him anymore but it's also released him and the back of his pyjamas have just been brushing the ceiling. He crumples to the floor and his legs bend badly and he is quite sure he feels something in his shin or both of his shins break, but his wand is still clenched tightly in his fist and the next curse he sends doesn't miss.*
*Karkaroff is dead. Lucius had been realizing that, and hadn't seen the flames binding Gideon fail, hadn't seen the curse coming until it hits him in the belly. He doubles over with a grated cry of pain as something inside him wrenches violent, twisting, and he staggers backward into Bellatrix clutching at his middle. He coughs and tastes copper thick on his tongue, and it's distracting enough that he forgets for a crucial second the rug-cat-thing, the bloodied and furious Fabian coming at them, and then there's a wand in his face and he's blasted backward away from the others, crumpling against the wall. He drags himself up to sitting with an arm still around his middle, still coughing up blood, and watches in horror as one twin fights his way to the other. They can't be allowed to be alive and together or they're all dead - *
*With one dead and one out of the way, Fabian just manages to bull his way past the other three Death Eaters and finally, finally, get to his brother. The silver thing is still stripping off his skin systematically; there's a patch the size of a plate on his chest now that's down to the muscle, bleeding heavily, and he's starting to get light-headed, and the thing is still going, working its way in erratic patterns down toward his belly, and he's aware, distantly, that if it gets there it will could disembowel him easily.
It doesn't matter. He's still alive and armed and Gideon is alive and breathing and he's not okay but he's alive, it's something. Slipping on blood and comic books, Fabian trips to the floor at his brother's side, shoulder to shoulder with him. He's panting, the room is spinning a bit and it's getting harder to keep track of who's where; he's losing too much blood, he knows, but he can't stop now to think of a charm for that, and spells haven't worked to get the mechanical thing off him. He's already tried
( ... )
*His left hand is in a tight fist around a handful of Fabian's soaking wet t-shirt but he can't get up, and his face is twisted into a grim little rictus with the pain and concentration of it--but he doesn't need to be on his feet to fire curses. He sends off one at the woman, teeth gritted and not holding back in the slightest.*
That puttyish Spaniard of an informant has provided a clear layout of this flat, and she's studied it carefully over long hours, so it almost feels like home as she steps sure-footed and silently over the hearth and into the living room. Kitchen to the left, hall to the right, first bedroom (Gideon's), then second (Fabian's, slightly larger, western exposure). The Aurors are not only dangerous but deadly, and exponentially more so together. That's why it's imperative they be dealt with silently and individually. If all goes well, it won't be hard at all: silence the first bedroom, kill the sleeping Auror, move onto the second, and repeat. They'll have plenty of time for play after that ( ... )
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The bedroom door isn't locked. The flat is probably warded to within an inch of its life, but doubtless the Prewett twins never believed anyone would get inside; why bother with interior locks? It swings silently inward, and Lucius can see past Bella and Rodolphus into the room, can pick out the dim shape of wardrobe, shelves, bed, and in it, a pile of blankets that's no doubt breathing softly.*
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The last time this happened, Gid had gotten hurt on a case in Ipswich, and Fabian had gotten to St. Mungo's before even he had without having to be told he was on his way. This is no different, there's just a sickening, unfaltering certainty of what he has to do, and within seconds he's got his wand and he's crashing out his bedroom door and into the hall, shoulder colliding with the corridor wall, blasting a curse at the first Death Eater in sight. He's not even surprised to see them there - his adrenaline's shot from zero to skyrocket in just heartbeats - and he stands his ground in boxer shorts and a Pac Man t-shirt, wand leveled at the other four Death Eaters.*
GID?!
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Not that she knows it, of course. She's firing off curses of her own so rapidly she isn't even sure what they are, her back to Lucius and one of her boots squarely on Roddy's shoulder. Precisely as Evan sends the little spiked ball at Fabian, she kicks her husband--not very hard, though.*
--get up--
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*He's alive, and very loud, but that's about as eloquent as he can manage just now: he's deflected Crucio, mostly, but the force of the diverted curse tears open his cheek and takes a considerable chunk out of the wall behind him. He doesn't blink--he's still fighting, still moving to distract and destabilize them, to get the split-second advantage that will make the fight and win it and get them out of here alive. Because that's the only option, right now, the only thing at all in the world: they're going to kill these bastards and get out of here alive.
There's an area rug under the man's feet, and in the blink of an eye it's a cat, still rug-colored but yowling and spitting and not appreciative of being stepped on. It claws its way up his leg, hissing and spitting and furious, and that buys Gideon an instant to lunge forward too, with a raw shout that sounds a bit like his brother's name ( ... )
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Arenaceous!
*--and the rope is dissolving into sand and it isn't burning him anymore but it's also released him and the back of his pyjamas have just been brushing the ceiling. He crumples to the floor and his legs bend badly and he is quite sure he feels something in his shin or both of his shins break, but his wand is still clenched tightly in his fist and the next curse he sends doesn't miss.*
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Finish them -
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It doesn't matter. He's still alive and armed and Gideon is alive and breathing and he's not okay but he's alive, it's something. Slipping on blood and comic books, Fabian trips to the floor at his brother's side, shoulder to shoulder with him. He's panting, the room is spinning a bit and it's getting harder to keep track of who's where; he's losing too much blood, he knows, but he can't stop now to think of a charm for that, and spells haven't worked to get the mechanical thing off him. He's already tried ( ... )
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*His left hand is in a tight fist around a handful of Fabian's soaking wet t-shirt but he can't get up, and his face is twisted into a grim little rictus with the pain and concentration of it--but he doesn't need to be on his feet to fire curses. He sends off one at the woman, teeth gritted and not holding back in the slightest.*
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