seven devils

After a few hours of alternately wallowing in self-pity and festering in anger, Evan decided he needed to get out of his flat---not like there was much for him there, as he had trashed it in a fit of rage. He stormed out and apparated to the first place he could think of. Black Manor had been a second home to him growing up, and right now it felt a lot easier to face his cousins and tell them his news than to relay it to his parents. Bellatrix might have seen Lyra’s betrayal firsthand, but regardless, that was not something Evan wanted to deal with. Andromeda or Narcissa, he could handle. 

It was a few hours after the attack on the Longbottom wedding. On all sides, the injured were tending to their wounds, and the ones who couldn’t had been taken to St. Mungo’s. Somehow, Evan had avoided the brunt of his own chaos. Or perhaps he hadn’t, but the adrenaline had allowed him to carry through. Adrenaline which had turned to fury the moment he saw his fiancee. Ex-fiancee. That fell apart the moment he spotted Lyra at the reception. She raised her wand at him and it was all over. He had flown into a blind rage, casting spells left and right without a care of whom or what they hit. 

Now, he was back in the flat that they had shared. For two years, ever since their engagement was announced, they had shared the flat together. Not that it was recognizable as such now, Evan had trashed it in a fit of anger once he had apparated back. A wall blown apart, what was once the bed they slept in still smoldering in a heap of embers. 

He had told her so many things, thinking she was on the same side. Evan had trusted Lyra more than he trusted most of his Death Eater comrades. And where had it gotten him? She had been passing information to Merlin knows who among the Order. He was a dead man. How much had she leaked? How many plans went wrong, how much had been thwarted because the Order knew what was happening? So much was coming together, and it only served to make him even more enraged. Currently, he was sat in his chair, one of the only things he hadn’t wrecked. Lyra was bound to return eventually, if only for her things.

“Rosier is dead,” said Crouch. “He was caught shortly after you were too. He preferred to fight rather than come quietly and was killed in the struggle.”

when lyra had decided to go to the wedding, to step in and try to stop the carnage she knew was going to happen… she’d spared a thought for her fiance. the man who thought she loved him. the man who she shared her bed with every night. she had been betraying him for years but  this was the final step. she couldn’t come back  from this. that was why, when he saw her across the crowd at the wedding, she stopped. the let him see her. let him see the side she had chosen. it was only after the moment passed that she  raised her wand and aimed a curse at his chest.

@evrosiers

Destruction and chaos were Evan’s objective from the moment he apparated onto the scene. He unleashed a barrage of curses as he traveled, not knowing or caring about the body count he had left in his wake. Whether anyone was unconscious or dead was none of his concern. Evan had just shot a curse up at a chandelier, sending shards flying in every direction, when he spotted a familiar face amongst the turmoil. He was about to call out, tell her to get out while she still could, when Lyra raised her wand. He froze in his tracks, confusion turning to understanding turning to anger. “What the fuck?!” Evan screamed out, breaking from his reverie to deflect the curse at the last second and storming forward.

@evrosiers

Moody kept finding himself lost in the maze that the wedding was. His misery had been of his own making. He’d let his guard down, the shouting voices inside his head telling him to get copies of the list of guests, mark all exit points and check the wards once again. For just one day, he’d decided to live like other people - and now he was thrown into a fight unprepared, along with countless civilians. The sound of steps made him stop in his tracks; his wand, at least, prepared to whatever could come. It only took a few glances for him to understand how he’d doomed himself - there was no exit there. Whoever was coming had backed him into a corner and there was no way out.

Make a scene. Cause chaos. Casualties. That was Evan’s task. He wasn’t supposed to go after anyone in particular. No, there were other Death Eaters who had their own targets. But when he saw Alastor Moody off on his own, Evan couldn’t pass up that opportunity. So he abandoned his mission and followed after him. “Moody, my old friend,” Evan called out, brandishing his wand. His mask had been lost almost as soon as he had joined the melee. Not like there would be any questioning loyalties after tonight, anyway. 

“ oh love, we may have a delightful  arrangement going on here and REALLY, i think you’re great in bed, i do, but – ” she paused, red lips pulling tight, eyes narrowing “ i have no problems ending it. i am NOT like those blonde bimbos you’re screwing on the side. i am not to be taken lightly, underestimate me and you WILL regret it. “

 “ well, if you’re sure about that work then, i’ll go find someone else to bother. ” she sang, tone light once again.

when evan began talking, lyra made sure she controlled her responses carefully. what had happened to the days when  they’d sat talking for hours and she’d loved listening to him and laughing with him? it’s funny what sentimental feelings could be killed by finding out your fiance is a murderer.

her hint paid off. lyra let him take her hands and squeezed  them back as he began to speak feverishly, excited. “what are you going to use giants for?” she asked, eyes widening in what probably looked like amazement. his pride made  her stomach turn and she stepped closer to him, ever  playing the part of the doting fiance. “getting giants convinced.. that’s.. that’s so huge. quite literally.” his eagerness made it easier for her to smile even as her heart pounded in her chest. “did you write the prophet story too? or was that  the boring jones girl from school?” 

“Truly, I haven’t the faintest idea. I was unaware we had even been talking with giants. Werewolves, sure. Greyback has been sniffing around for ages, but I hadn’t realized our doors were suddenly flying wide open to anything with a pulse,” Evan said, barely holding back his disdain for such creatures. Desperate times called for desperate measures, he supposed. Though part of his unhappiness came from the fact that he had to find out about the giants through the Prophet. It took far too much convincing his father to spill any information in order for Evan to find out their true purpose. 

“Of course I wrote it. That’s what I was trying to tell you. They’re finally seeing my potential and giving me stories with some substance.”

“There’s no need to be flip Rosier, I didn’t realize your presence was so entirely sought after.” Regulus steepled his fingers and let his elbows rest on the pub table. “It’s seven thirty Evan, please do calm yourself.” He lets his expression remain neutral and slightly disinterested. “I merely called you here for a meeting between childhood friends. Do sit.” He gestures to the chair across from him.

“I’m a busy man, Regulus. Of course my presence is sought after. Usually, you have to schedule meetings with me weeks in advance. You just so happened to be lucky enough to call upon me at a time when I was free.” Evan chuckled, taking the seat across from his old friend. “I’m joking, wipe that look of disdain off of your face. Mostly joking, anyway. I am busy. But that’s neither here nor there. Why the sudden desire to reconcile?”

              he was seated comfortably, leaning back in a chair with his legs               resting firmly on the table before him. stationed around him were              several death eaters whom had taken to waiting alongside the man              as a result of habitual loyalty and fear, each looking grim until evan             rosier made his entrance — then their expressions changed; DISGUST             now plaguing their hardened features. 

                        “ i looooooooove newborns.                   they’re all so                                  F   E   I   S   T   Y. ”

he never looked at the newly arrived death eater. instead, his attention was glued to the wand in his hand, his eyes glazing over the wood as he spun it around in his fingertips. “ but evan, ” he finally sang, his hollowed out hues slowly turning toward the pretty boy. “ it looks like you’re beginning to get complacent.   i really hope i don’t need to go and tighten that leash of yours. ”

                                       “ it would be so incredibly humiliating for you. ”

Evan’s eyes briefly skimmed over the other Death Eaters in the room. The majority of them weret nameless, faceless, unimportant to Evan. He knew his father’s loyalty was the only thing that allowed him to ascend to the upper echelon of the Death Eaters, just as he knew that there was plenty of resentment from those surrounding him. He wasn’t unaware of the disgust on their faces, he just chose to ignore it. They believed he hadn’t earned his place, and maybe they were right. But it wasn’t his job to care what they believed. There were few people whose opinions he cared about.

“I assure you that’s not the case,” Evan said, fingers drumming against the back of the chair. Whether it was nerves, or boredom, or a strange mixture of both, he wasn’t sure. “That would be completely unnecessary. May I sit?” he asked, leaning forward ever so slightly. “No humiliation necessary.”