The Burning Man Strikes [plot]
"Do you mean to say-"
"Oh, Merlin, no," Minerva huffed, bringing her butterbeer to her lips with a bewildered look to her eyes. "Child, I am well too old to even be thinking about calling anyone my boyfriend-"
The way the word rolled off her tongue brought a cracking grin to Marlow's face.
"Honestly, Minerva- that line of thinking just seems so-"
But before Marlow could even finish her sentence, a young woman came bursting inside the Three Broomsticks. She looked frazzled, her hair falling into her face as she slammed the door open. Nearly everyone inside the pub turned to look at her-
"Outside- fire- someone- anyone-" she pleaded, her breath ragged.
Marlow and Minerva exchanged a brief glance before rising from their seats, both women hurrying outside, nearly the entire inn behind them in a mixture of curiosity and panic. The fierce cold of winter hit Marlow smack in the face as they reached the outside but that didn't last for long.
Right in the open patch outside of the inn stood four, tall wooden stakes and they were on fire. The flames roared dangerously, rising nearly six feet off the ground as Marlow took in the sight of them. A crowd was gathering, no gasps or cries as everyone took in the sight, seemingly in shock that this was possible in the middle of the day. There was an eerie silence among everyone, their eyes locked on the image in front of them.
Suddenly, though, an older man pointed toward the flames, his voice alarmingly unsteady- "Is that- are those- I think I see someone in the flames!"
His voice snapped Marlow from her shock. She took a step forward, her wand at the ready.
"Finite Incantatem-"
But nothing happened. Minerva stepped forward, her wand also out, repeating the same spell. The flames continued to roar on and with a slight panic, Marlow realized these flames were not from any sort of magical spell. A spark shot out, landing right at Marlow's foot and she jumped back.
"Aguamenti-" she called out, her eyes turning toward her Headmistress with worry.
Water spilled from her wand, hitting at the rocks and wood piled up around the stakes. Minerva joined suit, a few others in the crowd stepping forward to help. The fires were overwhelming, completely massive but with enough spell work, Marlow was beginning to see the human forms from within the flames.
"Keep it going," she cried out, racing toward the stakes.
She halted short, however, when she realized that whatever it was tied to the stakes wasn't human. Four dummies were propped up, tied to the wood and hanging there limply now as parts of them were falling off in patches. They were dressed- all of them in thick dark robes and two of them wearing black, pointed hats. They were a bit funny- the kinds you would see in a Muggle costume shop but nothing like what actual witches and wizards would wear.
"They're not real-" she heard Minerva say, then again louder- "They're not real- everything's alright-"
But everything certainly was not alright.
Marlow took a step back as the crowd came forward to inspect the remains. A few cried out at the sight of the dummies, the obvious realization that no one was hurt coming over nearly everyone at the same time. The smell of gasoline hit her nostrils almost immediately and she scanned the crowd to see if there was anyone else who let the stench register. She was raised partially as a Muggle and certain things stood out to her that wouldn't to a Pureblood or even Halfbloods raised within the wizarding community. She brought her hand to her lips as she sighed.
This was not what she had thought they were up against when it came to the Burning Man.
But it seemed to be glaringly clear now.
She took her wand out, "Expecto Patronum" and a little dragonfly hovered in front of her.
"Harry- we need you at the Three Broomsticks immediately-"
"Oh, Merlin, no," Minerva huffed, bringing her butterbeer to her lips with a bewildered look to her eyes. "Child, I am well too old to even be thinking about calling anyone my boyfriend-"
The way the word rolled off her tongue brought a cracking grin to Marlow's face.
"Honestly, Minerva- that line of thinking just seems so-"
But before Marlow could even finish her sentence, a young woman came bursting inside the Three Broomsticks. She looked frazzled, her hair falling into her face as she slammed the door open. Nearly everyone inside the pub turned to look at her-
"Outside- fire- someone- anyone-" she pleaded, her breath ragged.
Marlow and Minerva exchanged a brief glance before rising from their seats, both women hurrying outside, nearly the entire inn behind them in a mixture of curiosity and panic. The fierce cold of winter hit Marlow smack in the face as they reached the outside but that didn't last for long.
Right in the open patch outside of the inn stood four, tall wooden stakes and they were on fire. The flames roared dangerously, rising nearly six feet off the ground as Marlow took in the sight of them. A crowd was gathering, no gasps or cries as everyone took in the sight, seemingly in shock that this was possible in the middle of the day. There was an eerie silence among everyone, their eyes locked on the image in front of them.
Suddenly, though, an older man pointed toward the flames, his voice alarmingly unsteady- "Is that- are those- I think I see someone in the flames!"
His voice snapped Marlow from her shock. She took a step forward, her wand at the ready.
"Finite Incantatem-"
But nothing happened. Minerva stepped forward, her wand also out, repeating the same spell. The flames continued to roar on and with a slight panic, Marlow realized these flames were not from any sort of magical spell. A spark shot out, landing right at Marlow's foot and she jumped back.
"Aguamenti-" she called out, her eyes turning toward her Headmistress with worry.
Water spilled from her wand, hitting at the rocks and wood piled up around the stakes. Minerva joined suit, a few others in the crowd stepping forward to help. The fires were overwhelming, completely massive but with enough spell work, Marlow was beginning to see the human forms from within the flames.
"Keep it going," she cried out, racing toward the stakes.
She halted short, however, when she realized that whatever it was tied to the stakes wasn't human. Four dummies were propped up, tied to the wood and hanging there limply now as parts of them were falling off in patches. They were dressed- all of them in thick dark robes and two of them wearing black, pointed hats. They were a bit funny- the kinds you would see in a Muggle costume shop but nothing like what actual witches and wizards would wear.
"They're not real-" she heard Minerva say, then again louder- "They're not real- everything's alright-"
But everything certainly was not alright.
Marlow took a step back as the crowd came forward to inspect the remains. A few cried out at the sight of the dummies, the obvious realization that no one was hurt coming over nearly everyone at the same time. The smell of gasoline hit her nostrils almost immediately and she scanned the crowd to see if there was anyone else who let the stench register. She was raised partially as a Muggle and certain things stood out to her that wouldn't to a Pureblood or even Halfbloods raised within the wizarding community. She brought her hand to her lips as she sighed.
This was not what she had thought they were up against when it came to the Burning Man.
But it seemed to be glaringly clear now.
She took her wand out, "Expecto Patronum" and a little dragonfly hovered in front of her.
"Harry- we need you at the Three Broomsticks immediately-"