Faye pressed her back against the side of the building. Behind her, the cries of the battle continued to echo, a reminder that while she’d stepped away, she had not escaped it. It was why her wand dare not leave her grasp. With a quick glance left then right, Faye checked to see that she was safe before letting her eyes shut. Her body was on a high- from seeing her parents’ faces, from making her first kill, from trying to stay alive. While she felt every rise and fall of her chest, every heart beat, every nerve ignited, a figure drew closer. It was only once his footsteps drew closer, sound rising above the war, that Faye heard. As quick as her eyes flew open, she had her wand pointed straight at him. The spell at the tip of her tongue remained unspoken, frozen upon seeing his face.
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Faye’s heart pounded in her chest, matching the sound of her feet against the cobblestone. With her wand clutched tightly in hand, she thread through the battle, eyes shifting left and right searching only for one face. As curses shot past, nearly grazing her on either side, the hairs on her arms stood tall. Every nerve heightened in the fear and the excitement.
Her search ended outside the tea shop. Off in the distance, chaos separating the two, Faye caught sight of a witch draped in black; her similar blonde hair fell stark in contrast. The ring around her finger felt heavier in her presence, as if it too knew that it had found its way back home after all these years.
As she moved to step forward, a blue light found her chest. The air was stripped from her lungs as her body propelled back, feet knocked from the ground. Her back made contact first. Then her head. Then the pain. The seconds that followed were slow. Staring up at the sky, Faye watched as the clouds spun, the air itself almost tangible.
Her mind returned before her body. Only her fingers could respond well enough to know to curl around her wand. But little movement followed. Rendered immobile by the shock, Faye’s thoughts could only scream within her skull as she listened to the cries and to the blasts and to the footsteps that drew closer. ‘Get up. Get up. You’re not going to die like this. Get up. Get the fuck up, Faye.’ Just feet away, the man was closer now, dangerously so. Faye turned her head. Looking though his legs, through the crowd, she could still see her mother. Her beautiful, aged face was aglow, kissed by the most crimson light. Faye saw not of the girl at the other end of the wand, only the ferocity in her mother’s eyes. After all she had been through, strength remained.
The spark of her fight ignited into flames, Faye returned in full, the world around her no longer spinning slow. She saw his face only for a moment, enough to tell he was strange to her, enough to tell she wasn’t to him. Not her name at least. That she saw in his eyes, held amongst the anger and lust for retribution. It was one look, one moment, and it was gone with the aim of her wand and the casting of a curse she’d only but heard. “Sectum Sempra!”
He fell and she rose. Faye wasted no time to watch him bleed. His fate- life or death- remained a mystery to her as she left him behind.
“Mum!” Faye shouted, the call useless in the crowd. Her eyes went towards the shop, frantic in search to spot her mother again. But her face wasn’t there. Unable to beat any faster, her heart only boomed louder. Worry pushed her through the crowd. Worry brought her sights onto the girl on the ground.
Amelia Knotts looked broken. Her eyes, wide as ever, had forgotten how to blink. They looked forward, spooked and pained. Her hair was knotted and her clothes were stained dark, the color of her own muddied blood unrecognizable. Her whole body shook but no part more than her outstretched arm. Had it not been for the wand she held, Faye could have looked upon her simply as her roommate. She would have considered the memories they had shared, the giggles passed between neighboring beds. Had it not been for the wand, quivering in her weak grasp, Faye would not have raised her own. But the wand could not be forgotten, not with its aim at her mother’s back.
Five years of friendship could not outweigh the nine of longing.
“Bombarda Maxima!” The charm hit the front the tea shop causing an explosion. As windows shattered and debris rained down, Faye lifted her arms, hands covering her face in a quick response to block the rubble. Small splinters made scratches against her palms and tears into her robes. As the dust finally settled, then she saw the true impact of her actions.
Amelia was still, covered in a blanket of wreckage. Her eyes looked upon her hauntingly. The fear within them remained; even in death, Amelia could not escape it.
Faye’s eyes held something far different: relief. To her side, her mother stood, heart still beating, body intact. Somewhere off in the chaos, her father remained fighting. They were all still there. Together. Fighting together. Because beyond the relief of life, she finally knew what her parents wanted. Their beliefs had not changed despite what they had been forced to give up and, even if it had taken years, Faye had finally chosen her side. There was no mark on her arm but her choice had come from blood: both pure and familial.
Her choice was cemented in her first kill.
In taking her mother’s hand, in disappearing into the fight, Faye turned her back on Amelia. In the same instant, Faye turned her back on the life she knew, prepared to become the daughter she had always wanted to be.
The bell above the door still jingled as Faye passed through the threshold of Honeydukes, stepping foot straight into the chaos of war the streets had become. Her heart began to pound with the nerves. Her eyes grew wide as they lay witness, watching as bodies fell and blood coloured the cobblestones. Screams pierced the air. Faye stood frozen, more frightened by the reality of war than she could have ever prepared. But the hairs on the back of her neck standing on end reminded her that she was testing her safety by standing still. Given no other option, Faye sprang into action. Her bag of treats fell to the ground, chocolate frogs hopping free.
Without much thought, just the drive to do something, Faye ran forward. Her hand dug into her pocket, fishing for her wand as she hopped over a still body. A flash of green flooded her vision, causing her stomach to hollow and her breath to hitch. A tall, dark-haired man fell with a thud. He lay at her feet. A glimpse at his aged face told Faye that he was old; the wrinkles on the cheeks told her that he had smiled often and the wedding band on his finger told her he had been married. None of that mattered now.
He deserved it.
Looking up, seeing the Death Eater that had killed him staring back at her, Faye knew that thought to be true. Whoever he was, whatever he had done, his death had a purpose. As difficult as it may be to swallow, it was the truth. And truth was never something Faye strayed away from.
He deserved it.
She spoke the thought silently through the nod of her head, eyes locked on the masked Death Eater. Pureblood could only protect her so far. She needed to tell him she was on his side. Whether the man understood her answer or not, Faye didn’t wait to find out. With one brush with death beneath her belt, Faye moved deeper into the heart of the battle, prepared as she ever could to face many others.
What she saw instead, Faye had no preparation for. Across the sea of hurt bodies and curses sent left and right, stood a man with sandy colored hair and eyes that squinted when they focused on something he set his mind to. His cheeks were sunken and his body looked leaner than it did in her memories but there was no mistaking him.
“Dad?” Faye’s voice was quiet, muffled beneath the deafening sounds of war. Her lip began to quiver as she watched him, wand raised as a red light shot menacingly out from his wand. Enraptured by the sight, she drew closer, not giving one look around her. She dare not strip her eyes away for fear it’d all disappear like a dream. “Dad!” He still hadn’t heard her. “DAD!”
He turned at the sound of his daughter’s voice. After nine years, Tobias Travers finally got to see her face.
Tears swelled in Faye’s eyes as she pushed forward, knocking shoulders as she fought to get to him. “DAD!” She paid no care to the spells whizzing past her. She felt only the impact of her feet hitting the pavement with each step. She heard only the sound of her heart beating. She saw only him, standing across from her. Alive. “DAD!” Faye ran into his arms. Face buried into his chest, feeling the warmth of his arms wrap around her, the tears finally began to roll down her cheeks. Softer now, she shared a whisper only for them. “Dad.”
Her father placed a gentle peck atop her head. Amongst all the death and destruction, Faye’s heart swelled as she heard his voice, just as smooth and calming as she had always remembered. “Hi, Sweetheart.”
His heart was still beating fast. Even after the door behind him slammed shut. Even after escaping the streets and the chaos for a moment. Even after trying to catch his breath. Lub-dub. Lub-dub. It was the fear and the adrenaline that kept it going. It was the fear and the adrenaline that kept James pushing forward, breaking through battle on the cobblestone streets. His knuckles went white as his grip on his wand tightened, holding it out and at the ready. Eyes flashed left and right, watching for the next burst of green light, watching for his next dark-cloaked target, watching for the faces of Albus and Lily and Alice, everyone he had to save.
As he stepped over a fallen student, their blue and bronze scarf draped across their still chest, James turned his head just in time to watch a curse shoot in his direction.
Now that she’d done her shopping and met with her friends, it was time to head back. Nova walked leisurely up the street towards the school grounds, half-reading her new copy of Uric the Oddball’s biography, and enjoying the buzz of the other wizards going about their daily business.
A scream behind her threw her into immediate panic, fumbling for her wand and dropping the book forgotten by her feet. A masked figure a few shops ahead stood with their wand raised, and more Death Eaters seemed to crawl out of the surrounding area. One of them up ahead had made quick work of a duel with a fourth-year, and turned around as if looking for a new opponent. Well, they were about to find one. “Hey!"
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Whilst he never really cared much for the family store as he got older, he still found himself gravitating to the familiar layout only because there was an off chance that his dad or someone else in the family might be working. As he passed through the aisles he inspected some of the items on the shelves, keeping a safe distance from them since he knows just what might happen if they were to be activated. The boy made his way to the counter hoping to see a family member but was sadly greeted by someone he did not recognize. He was going to ask if any other Weasleys happened to be working when a loud noise followed by several screams erupted from the streets. Hugo turns around to see some black hooded figure flooding the streets attacking the people as they pass through.
Although the willingness to fight is strong in him, he knows that he has to formulate some kind of plan to stay alive. With many others in the store arming themselves with their wands, preparing to fight, Hugo makes a mad-dash through the back of the store and exits out of the backdoor and into the alley. He was only alone for a mere moment before someone appears, the boy draws his wand, prepared to fight. “Move an inch closer, I dare you.”
Leaning back in a booth in the back of The Hog’s Head, Chryson twisted his butterbeer around and waited for Levi to come back, enjoying the silence as he did. There was always a buzz in the castle, too loud to drown out, but the unpopular bar seemed to be just the location to get away from it all. He was just taking another sip as his friend slid into the seat across from him. “You know, I don’t think I ever really appreciated this place before.”
Her black cloak felt heavy on her shoulders, and her mask, or her fear, made it hard to breathe. It had been so long since she’d worn them ; she felt like a different person, now. The girl who’d wanted this had died a long time ago. The screams had started slowly, but now they were everywhere, those sounds of people hurt and dying that cut through her as if they were her own. What if someone she cared about was out there? What if it was their screams? Footsteps sounded, and Avery turned to see a person running down the alleyway. She drew her wand, on instinct, raising it high and pointing it at them directly. Ready to strike if she needed to, but she’d never wanted to do anything less in her life. ‘ I - I’ll give you one chance, ‘ she said, voice shaking far too much for her liking. ‘ If you run, right now, I’ll let you go. ‘
