fire up the night

It worked. Perfectly. There wasn’t a doubt in her desperate mind that he wasn’t her brother dearest. He gave her a gentle frown, scooting closer and speaking quietly. “I was a lot better before I saw you. What have they been doing to you? What have you told them?” Right on cue, one of the death eaters leaned down and snarled in Silas’s face. “Did I say you could talk, pretty boy?” Silas stared back boldly and smirked. This, he was good at. “Didn’t think I needed your permission. On another note, have you ever heard of breath mints?” The other struck him across the face and pulled him up by the collar, resulting in a feral growl from Silas. Even though the other death eater was his friend, he probably wanted an excuse to kick Silas’s unkickable ass. And this was it, even if it was just for show. “Don’t talk back to me unless you’re going to spill your dirty little secrets.” Silas snorted and knocked his forehead against his friend’s, sending him stumbling back in surprise. “Leave me alone, man. I’m just trying to talk to my sister.”

Tears ran down Evie’s face as her ‘brother’ spoke to her. She had been feeling so devastatingly alone all this time, bloodied and beaten, not having spilled a word about anything to any of them. “I-I haven’t told anyone. I haven’t told them a-anything.” She whispered. When a Death Eater approached them, Evie hissed something that sounded like ‘no’, hoping that they wouldn’t get in trouble, that no one would hurt either of them. She couldn’t bear the thought of her brother getting hurt. When he made a snide remark at them, Evie let out a cry of sheer pain at the sight of her brother being hit by some masked student. Someone she’d probably trusted once. Someone who probably hated them for being traitors. “P l e a s e!” She cried, her eyes wide as she flinched away from the sight of her brother being hurt, “Please don’t hurt him!”

Polyjuice potion never tasted good. Maybe it was the hair, maybe it was the leeches. Maybe it was the taste of something sinister about to happen. But as he downed it to the last drop, Silas didn’t even gag. Not only had he drunk much worse in his time, but he was giddy with his plan. As a man who wasn’t much of a thinker, this idea was brilliant. He would go from hostage to hostage disguised as someone they cared about, and his fellow death eaters would beat him around a bit to make a point. After all, their opponents were disgustingly selfless. 

Evie sat with her head against the corner. At this point, she’d already been pretty badly hurt. She could feel dried blood on her chin from her lip being split and her body ached with pain. She was worried for all the people she loved and the more she tried to think of a solution or a way out, the more terrified and anxious she got. When she saw him, her brother, walk through the door, Evie’s eyes widened and that same anxiety bubbled up in her chest. What had happened to him since she’d last seen him?

It worked. Perfectly. There wasn't a doubt in her desperate mind that he wasn't her brother dearest. He gave her a gentle frown, scooting closer and speaking quietly. "I was a lot better before I saw you. What have they been doing to you? What have you told them?" Right on cue, one of the death eaters leaned down and snarled in Silas's face. "Did I say you could talk, pretty boy?" Silas stared back boldly and smirked. This, he was good at. "Didn't think I needed your permission. On another note, have you ever heard of breath mints?" The other struck him across the face and pulled him up by the collar, resulting in a feral growl from Silas. Even though the other death eater was his friend, he probably wanted an excuse to kick Silas's unkickable ass. And this was it, even if it was just for show. "Don't talk back to me unless you're going to spill your dirty little secrets." Silas snorted and knocked his forehead against his friend's, sending him stumbling back in surprise. "Leave me alone, man. I'm just trying to talk to my sister."

“Oh my God, you’re so right—-I should totally give a  p i g  like you the time of day instead of finding someone I’m actually attracted to to do these with—-sorry Goyle, but you haven’t earned it. Maybe try someone a little more in your league? Like, I don’t know, Filch?”

“Like Filch?-alright, look, I know I’m a right arsehole sometimes but you don’t need to turn my kind offer into an insult fest. Absolutely ridiculous, mate. And people say I’m ornery. Try to give a girl a drink, and an opportunity to see what’s under the hood, and she goes off.” He mumbles, a mild pout on his face as he mentally licks his wounded ego.

 Barbara, Scobie, Annette. Whoever the death eater was, he was vicious and cruel and he wasn’t going to S T O P hurting Lance’s friends. He wiped an involuntary tear on his shoulder from listening to their blood curdling screams, eyes flickering around the room. The one currently torturing Annette had broken from the ranks, and seemed to be the only one taking liberties with the hostages thus far. ( HIS FIRST MISTAKE. ) In a flash, relying on mostly the strength in his legs as his arms were tied, the boy had propelled himself to a stand, and then, HE CHARGED. And then, he kicked. “ DON’T MESS WITH MANZ’ FAM, PAGAN!!” ( That had been his second mistake. ) 

Silas's face contorted as he launched himself forward and rammed into Lance with a sturdily built shoulder, driving him against the wall before he grabbed the other's hair and pointed his wand threateningly at his neck. "Slow down there, fam," he spat, "because this could go very sour for you and your friends very quickly." Always known as a muscleman among the death eaters, Silas was the first to take action, because he didn't even have to think about it. His body knew how to hurt by nature, almost like he was raised for this. He was raised for this. "My mate here will do what he fucking pleases, because we have the power here. Not you." 

“The last one? Well, you better play your cards right. Or that is not happening. It is not the first time we’re going through this. I know you. And actually, I know you better than any other girl.”

“Not my fault I got dealt a shitty hand, love. Why are you being so tough tonight? I like it when you’re soft.” He reaches his arms around Marisol and pulls her into a seemingly supportive hug--until his hand squeezes her bum.

“I can get properly drunk without letting your mouth anywhere near my body, Silas.”

“True, Carrow. You can. But will it be as fun?”

“Get that nasty fucking gasoline like drink AWAY from me, Goyle, I’ve come to talk.”

“Shit. Shit, fine. What do you need to talk to me about? Ten galleons says it wasn’t me, though.”

“You approached me. I’m just being polite by continuing the conversation. I’m in a good mood. And don’t think for a second you’re the only guy I have spoken to tonight. Oh and it wasn’t always just talking.”

“Mari, Mari. Keep the claws in, unless you promise to actually...use them. I don’t want to be the only guy. I just want to be the last one. Tonight. In your bed.”

“You’re such a charmer. You have always managed to sweep me off my feet with your crude language. But what if I want some other guy?”

“You could have any of them, hot stuff. But you’re talking to me right now, not some other guy. Tell me why that is.”

“Is that an attempt at flirting, Goyle? I thought you were somewhere shoving your tongue down the throat of some badly dressed slut.”

“Why would I do that? I’d much rather shove my tongue down your  well dressed throat. That’s why I’m flirting.”

“Is the punch alcoholic, do you know? I’ve had so many cups, I’m starting to lose my taste perception.”

“I’d sure like to taste your perception.”

“And what would I get out of that?”

“Besides the pleasure of my company? Properly drunk. Never said we couldn’t take turns.”