Date: Wednesday, 20 September, 2000
Time: 11:00 p.m. and later, after Closing
Location: The Leaky Cauldron
Characters Involved: Seamus Finnigan, Lavender Brown, various NPC’s, by invitation only
Rating: R for violence
(
Folly is the cloke of knavery. - William Blake )
And then, from behind the door, she could hear Imperio.
Oh, Gods! Gods! She ran back for her wand, trying to unlock the door. “Alo-Gods!--homora! Alo-Alo-- Alohomora!” It didn’t budge. She heard the sound of a body being dropped on glass, the crashing, the shattering, and her front two teeth made contact through her lip, blood starting to seep out of her mouth.
“Alohamora!” she tried again, tears falling down her face. She had no idea what she was going to find, but she had to get in there. Her head hit the door - the noise that the man heard.
And the door opened.
She took three quick steps onto the stairs, and saw. There was a man - she later was sure it had been a man, since the voice she hard heard had been distinctly masculine, and his shoulders had been broad-- running out of the room. His back was to her, and she could see his full Death Eater regalia. That sight alone was enough to freeze Lavender, and she fell on the steps, bumping the back of her legs hard, thudding down as she stopped in her tracks.
As the door closed behind the man, she came to her sense enough to look around. Everything was in shambles. She let out a low moan as she managed to shakily get to her feet.
“Seamus!” she tried to cried out, her voice getting lost in her throat. “Seamus…” Her legs wobbled as though she had had the jelly-legs jinx cast on her, and it was difficult to wade through the rubble, but she knew she had to find him. But would she find him alive or dead? That was the most frightening question going through her mind. With everything looking like this… And from a Death Eater…
“Seamus?” she said again, reaching the bar and looking over. There was blood on her chin from biting through her lip, but that was nothing, nothing to Seamus. He was lying in a poor of his own blood. There was glass, and gashes, and slices of him. She let out another moan that twisted and became a wail. “Seamus!” she cried, stepping quickly over the rubble, kneeling down and hovering her hands over him. She wanted to hug him, and comfort him, and try to help him, but she was so afraid that she’d touch him and he’d die - if he wasn’t dead already. He wasn’t speaking, wasn’t moving. Just…. Like….. Mum….
Reply
Leave a comment