Bathed in Blood

“And beautifully bloody too!” She giggled happily, watching, freezing for a moment as lightning lit up the sky and thunder followed with a roar. Picking a direction she suddenly bolted, calling behind her, “Chase me Amy!” And for all that it was lost in the wind, it could’ve been Race Me, but she knew Amycus heard her, he always heard her and she loved it so. 

“You worry too much.” she teased him again, bumping their noses together playfully. “And I know I’ll be fine because you already wore them down for me. It’ll be a like a game of hide and go seek and I have been terribly bored. So I think I should be thanking you for the gift, Brother Mine. I’ll be sure to treasure it.” She chuckled, prancing from the room to grab some bruise cream and ice. Alecto wasn’t very good at healing, loathe as she was to admit it, so unfortunately she’d have to leave the broken bones alone lest she risk hurting him further. Tending to him appeared to be the only thing she could do at the moment and she hated it. 

“Well if that’s a bad thing I could certainly try and serenade you but I don’t think I or myself would like that very much. I’ve got a rather awful singing voice. The Malfoy Lord of course, finds it rather hilarious.” Cygnus continued cheerily. “Though my curoisity has not abated Carrow so I must ask, I know quite why I am sitting out here but what are you?”

“No need to act so surprised Carrow, I’m not going to jump you and drink your blood. I don’t think vampire becomes me.” Cygnus chuckled, trying to keep his voice light as he watched him clench around his wand. Druella was the snake charming not him and he didn’t want to role something up he had no chance of escaping, especially not alone. “Perhaps you just like the stars? But that’s my reason, I’m afraid I don’t know yours.”

Hard, she shoved her shoulder through the crowd of the sidewalk, an adrenaline-fueled escape as her heartbeat drummed in her head, the same one syllable filling her ears: run, run, run. She could still feel the disturbing man’s eyes on the back of her skull. Felt him watching her flee, his gaze tangling into the windswept strands of her golden hair as they followed behind in her terrified wake, the rushed and desperate dash for some semblance of safety. Fuck, fuck, fuck – the man chided her foul language, but as she tried to whirl through the sea of droning Londoners blocking her path to safety, she could think nothing else.

Until something – a curse, a horribly dark but silent one, though she felt the haunting power of whatever it was lash into her back, right between her shoulder blades – stopped her mind completely. Her consciousness bubbled and melted, seeping away from her grasp. Mary tried to scream. Her mouth wouldn’t work, tongue refused to form words. Her body resisted any command for movement, boots rooted into her sudden stopped spot among the crowd, chest heaving up and down as she struggled to catch her breath, heartbeat pounding in her ears, though the sound seemed so far, so far away now…

Be a good girl and hand the camera to him.

The voice telling her what to do wasn’t hers, but she heard it as though her own mind demanded, controlled her actions, her own consciousness hijacked. For a brief, challenging moment, her defiance and stubbornness fought back. Her expression flickered into a resisting scowl, her fingers tightening on the camera gripped within her hands, chin tipping up, blue eyes glaring unadulterated hatred at the man whose voice echoed in her head. Inside her, she felt herself battling her way back out – a hopeless endeavor. Inside, she screamed, swore, pounded her fists at the locked and barricaded door of her own cognizance, racked and clawed and ripped and warred against him. The struggled twisted her pretty face, until…until nothing. Pure nothingness. Her face relaxed, eyes glazed over. Lips straightened. She blinked. Anyone who knew her and saw such placidity on her face would be horrified by the sight. 

She blinked.

And then, her legs carried her over to him with a few unburdened steps. Mary’s glassy eyes met his. She held out the camera, obedient and docile.

  Mary really was a tough sunflower, especially for one that was wilting with every foul word from her mouth. She was fighting him, trying not to succumb to the curse. It was an inevitable fight, really. His will was much stronger than hers. He wanted this more than she wanted her freedom. The day had been rather boring and he was in the mood for fresh blood, for the thrill of the hunt. His desire would win out over hers every time.

And it did, it took only a few minutes before those beautiful eyes of hers turned glassy and dull. Amycus’ lips twisted into a triumphant grin as she dutifully moved towards him. With the camera in his hands, he turned that grin towards her. “Good girl. I knew you’d be good at taking orders,” he reached out as he spoke and stroked the side of her face. To any outsider it would seem as if it were a loving exchange. Had to appear that way lest someone become suspicious. “Now, sunflower, it’s time to play. Hold on.”

With that, he wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her close before apparating from the alley. The basement of the Carrow household smelled slightly musty and Amycus pick up traces of blood that had been shed. It made his blood sing as he summoned a chair for his latest toy. “Sit.” He commanded her as if she were nothing more than a dog about to be reprimanded, his tone cold and distant. It was the hunter in him, he’d caught his prey and now it was time to act. He’d have to be careful, he knew that much. Such a delicate thing would break so prettily. He’d see the bruises litter her skin before he healed them, would taste her blood before he cleaned her up. This would be a long game, one played over and over until she was broken completely; each petal stripped away and discarded. 

“We’re going to play a game. I’m going to hurt you and you’re going to scream. Scream as loud as you want, it’ll only make it hurt more. And if you don’t scream loud enough, I’ll just make it hurt worse,” his grin was feral as he looked down at her, pushing up the sleeves of his shirt. It’d come off soon enough, he’d want to feel her blood against his skin when the time came.

“Don’t worry about me brother, they can’t hurt me if they can’t catch me now can they.” She smiled showing her teeth in a playful growl. “But first let’s get you out of those clothes hmm? We may have scrap them Amy, I do hope you weren’t too attached?” She teased, unbuttoning his shirt and pushing it off his shoulders. Fingers trailed delicately over the wounds and swelling. “You’re quite a mess Amy.” Alecto’s voice softened as she glared at the injuries, as if willing them to vanish in the spot. It didn’t work of course but it made her feel better at least.

Alecto growled lowly, she’d find that filthy thing that dared touch her brother and she’d bring back the heart on a platter. It would be a nice dinner, revenge really was rather sweet in her opinion.

With his head in her lap she gently ran his fingers through his hair before urging him up, to lean on her as she moved him to the bed. No brother of hers was going to be left to bleed on the cold hard floor. Taking care of Amycus would always be her first and foremost priority, the other half of her soul. “Stay still heart I’ll fix you up and then go get dinner.” She smiled and kissed his forehead.

It was unusual for Amycus to lean on Alecto for support. More often than not it was Amycus making sure that she was okay. Everything revolved around his sister. She was his world, the only bit of color in an otherwise black and white world. But most importantly she was his to take care of. He was supposed to be careful so that he didn’t get hurt or worse. And yet.

Alecto bolted through the manor when she heard the crack, pushing her legs faster when she smelled the blood. She hopes it was Amy’s blood, it was someone else’s surely? But the bloody and battered form of her brother gave it away.

“Amy?! Amy?! What happened? Who did this? I’ll kill them!” She snarled, gently helping him up and touching his face. Eye nearly swollen shut, blood everywhere, Alecto worried he even had a cracked cheekbone. She’d kill whoever did this and she’d do it slowly.

The moment Alecto appeared, Amycus felt more at ease. She always did have that sort of effect on him. It made even the worst of his wounds not so bad as her hands found his face. “’Lecto,” he murmured again, leaning into her. How as he to tell her that someone lesser than him had bested him? That his prey had turned on him?

“ I’m going to pretend like that wasn’t directed towards me, ” Sullivan commented plainly as he stroked his chin. Amycus was a curious little fellow, and the darker haired wizard couldn’t help but be intrigued by him. “ You’re a busy man, ” he responded with the sharp nod of his head. “ I can respect that. ” He moved to clasp a hand around Amycus’ shoulder, but paused when he realized he wasn’t sure if the gesture would be well-received. “ Do you mind if I walk with you? ”

As Sullivan spoke, Amycus just looked at him. There was no reason to answer him. Let the man believe what he wanted, it didn’t matter. Not when he already had more pressing matters to deal with. “It’s better to be busy than to sit idle,” he answered simply, looking to the other man’s hand as it landed on his shoulder.  An eyebrow raised at him but he said nothing, only nodded. “I suppose you could impose.”

Ed was perfectly at peace, working away at his desk when he heard an explosion in the distance and then screams. He had barely made it to the window when a gruff voice sounded from the fire place. “There’s an attack. Diagon Alley. Anyone available needed immediately.” Ed turned in time to see Alastor Moody’s face disappear back into flames but no more than that. 

Ed was out the door in only a few strides, the knob crashing into the wall of his office with the force he pulled it open with. His secretary jumped at the sound, herself at the window investigating the noise. “There’s something going on in Diagon Alley. I’m going to check it out.” He said. “Stay in here and keep yourself safe.” And with a crack he was gone.

There was another crack as he appeared once more, the distant screaming he was hearing moments ago now surrounding him on all sides. Out of the screams, a single voice made its way to his ears from behind him and he turned in a flash, drawing his wand as he did. 

Ed’s wand was tip to tip with another one and his eyes looked for the face of its wielder, hoping it was one of the Order. His stomach dropped as his adrenaline raised when he saw the mask and black robes standing before him. “Stupefy!” Ed shouted, missing his mark by nearly a foot in the panic of a fast thrown spell. He cursed himself for being careless as he took a step back and the figure before him gave a laugh that set his nerves on edge.

Amycus laughed, the sound a haunting one. He could see the panic in the man’s eyes as he flung a spell towards him. It missed and Amycus turned his head to watch it as it hit someone running past. If he hadn’t known any better he’d have thought that this an was helping the cause. But Amycus knew that wasn’t true. That spell was aimed for him and had only missed because the man had been panicked and unprepared. 

If this was the cavalry the opposition was severely out of it’s depth.

Turning back towards the man that had appeared in front of him, the Carrow heir grinned. This was going to be fun, he was on the hunt and he was more feral than particularly needed to be. There was anger and adrenaline coursing through his veins making him an apex predator. He was out for blood and he would get it. It was the reason he was on this particular hit crew, or so he told himself.

The smirk on the younger wizard’s face made Arthur’s jaw tighten. Something about the eldest Carrow twin had always rubbed him the wrong way, even in school, and it only grew worse as an adult. He knew the Carrow family well, actually. They had once been acquaintances of his family before they cut all ties with the Purebloods and their bigoted, elitist society. Call him a blood traitor all you like, his father always said, but never, never speak about his children. 

“The apology’s not needed. Just what your business is. I am surprised someone such as yourself would even set foot down here. And, as for my coworkers, there aren’t many of us. I doubt they mind a bit of ruckus every now and then.”

Disdain for any that were not pure, even those a part of the Sacred 28, had been bred into Amycus at a young age. Blood traitors and mudbloods were all the same to him. And that was exactly what Arthur Weasley was. Him and his entire family. Even if their families had been close at one point in time. That had changed the moment he and his family had decided to devote themselves to such a filthy cause. Now all Amycus really wanted was to cause pain, to teach a lesson perhaps, or to even make a lesson out of the ginger. It surely would be fun.

“And what exactly are you implying, Weasley?” His words dripped with venom as he just barely restrained himself from taking a step into the office. It would not do to be caught assaulting a co-worker. Even if said co-worker was nothing more than a blood traitor. “I am delivering correspondence. I am merely passing through. I assure you it is not intentional.” He sneered.

Arthur’s face drew into a hard mask as he saw just who was standing in his doorway. Arthur rounded the boys up quickly and told them, quietly, for them to go play behind his desk. Seemingly sensing the change in their father, Bill and Charlie grabbed little Percy’s hands and toddled away. “Mr. Carrow. I don’t recall you having children. My congratulations. Oh, pardon me, you don’t. Do not presume you can tell me what I can and cannot do with them, here, in my office. They’re not harming anyone by being here and, in fact, the only person they see is me. So, please, state your business and shove off.” 

There was something within Amycus that was gleeful as the man’s face hardened. He wasn’t spineless. A miracle for someone within this department. But never the less, he wouldn’t allow some muggle lover to speak to him in such a way. The only thing stopping him from setting foot in the office was the fact he had to keep up appearances. “My apologies, Mr. Weasley. I was not telling you what you are to do with your... children. Simply stating that there are some things that simply aren’t appropriate for the workplace.” His eyes flicked to the children playing behind the desk, small tufts of red hair appearing every so often. “You have co-workers who may not enjoy the noise.”

“ARGHHHH!! THE MIGHTY KNIGHTS WEASLEY HAVE SLAIN THE DRAGON RED!” Arthur fell back dramatically as his boys tumbled on top of him like a pack of puppy dogs, giggling as they plopped across his chest and legs. He heaved a great sigh and placed a hand over his eyes, his final breath one that quickly came back when Charlie poked him in the cheek with a finger. Cracking an eye, Arthur shot up in surprise when he saw someone watching him from the door of his office. The boys fell around him, protesting their father’s movements with a collective whine. “Eh sorry. Don’t get visitors much. Me family comes round for lunch to keep me comp'ny. What can I do for you?”