killed my old self.

DIO: "Too bad it wasn't one of us who found themselves a rat," he returns, quite sure that Cassius must feel rather dissatisfied, too, if not more. Diomedes is quite pleased with the progression of events, and has made peace with the fact that his involvement with the coup is lower. He's busy after all, a working man. He resists a snort. "The public has bought stranger things, but it's a bit far-fetched. I would have just killed her. Leave her to bleed out on top of the Ministry fountain." Her blood and water mixing. It would be a satisfying image. "But there's still time for that, I suppose."

CASSIUS: "Too bad indeed," Cassius murmurs, a simple statement that doesn't really cover the bitterness he feels. He's spent so much time attempting to build allies amongst the Death Eaters, he hadn't truly thought about forcing those on the other side to be his allies unwittingly. However, he allows Diomedes to distract him rather than seethe further, unable to help an amused smile. "It certainly would have been a poetic way of doing things. You're rather more of a visionary than our counterparts, I think. Still ... two down. So much for the famous trio, no? I expected more."

DIO: "I suppose because of Manny we didn't see the urgency." It wasn't an excuse, but rather a reflection on their shortcomings. He's not good at being self-critical, though, and lets it go easily. Both he and Cassius have done other things for the Death Eaters that Yennefer has failed to. "Hah. A visionary." That's a compliment Diomedes accepts, albeit with amusement. He chuckles, then. "And it won't take much to take the last one down, I'm sure. He must be furious, and anger does tend to make people do stupid things. It's almost too easy."

CASSIUS: "Were you hoping for more of a challenge?" Cassius asks jokingly, his dark mood easing. But there is no need to ask the question, he knows precisely what Diomedes wants already, so he continues without a hint of anything but deadly solemnity. "Longbottom will be next. It's a shame he survived young Lestrange, but we won't let it happen again. And just as Weasley will fall, so too will his sister and that Lovegood fool. All of them." If perhaps once they were just the words of a silver tongue, he is now determined to make it so, bend every enemy to his will for the sake of his friend. "Like you said. Easy. And then..." he trails off, leaving the words hanging as he gives Dio a meaningful nod. He can't say what happens next, not here, when they are surrounded, but it is easy, simple in his mind. Then it's all ours. Diomedes has his vengeance. And he gets the world.

DIO: As Cassius talks, Diomedes turns his attention to him, completely. The others don't matter: they hardly care about his private wishes, and while part of him knows that Cassius is playing into his desires, he doesn't quite care. If anyone was going to, he'd prefer it to be the other. "Longbottom can't be too hard. A blow of air, and he'll drop. Ginevra Weasley ... too reckless, much like most of those red-heads." He chuckles. "Did you see what Lovegood's father published?" He's not at all amused by it, in truth. "His daughter's death will be even more satisfying, now that it will also serve as ... punishment, I suppose, for that." He doesn't bother to hide his fury at the article, at his face gracing the Quibbler front page. "Once they are all finished, we can move on to greater things, hm?" Diomedes gives Cassius a knowing look, does not speak more of it than that. Unspoken things between friends. "Only a matter of time, truly."

CASSIUS: He keeps an eye on those around them, enjoying Diomedes' pleasure, like it's his own, until it takes a more irritated turn. "I did, though not a person with sense would warrant the words of the Quibbler, of all things," Cassius says comfortingly. "You ought pay it no mind. They can hardly diminish you. But who am I to say that? There's nothing quite so satisfying as knowing you've thoroughly destroyed your enemy." His calming expression turns to a smirk. He enjoys Dio's rage more. What it promises for what is to come. His head falls to one side, considering. "A power vacuum does create opportunity. For the cause, of course. But with you at Hogwarts, and myself at the Ministry, I certainly see no end to what we can achieve."

ENDER: he’d rather be doing anything else . running these fruitless interrogations has been nothing but irritating for him . he’d compare it to his nagging mother forcing him to do the dishes as a child — or the light buzzing of a fly in his ear . maddening, and aimless . at this point, ender’s certain this entire thing is just a stage for the senior death eater’s to flex on . the interrogations are all the same : the righteous order members refuse to speak, so the potion speaks for them . and more often than not, the information is the same . still, he rolls up his sleeves, a soldier in the line of monotonous duty . at least he knows the person this time . at least he might as well have a little bit of fun . “ so we’re skipping pleasantries, then ? ” the politician hums as he rounds his desk, leaning back in his seat comfortably . he doesn’t think he’s seen her since his their youth, but the stories, the rumours remain curiously in his mind . “ it seems you already know the answers to all of that, so we might as well skip ahead . drink ? ” he offers as he gets up to make himself one . “ here’s what’s going to happen : i’m going to ask you to tell me what you know about the order, you’re going refuse, i’m going to insist, you’re going to refuse again, i’m going break out a healthy dose of veritaserum, and then it’s all going to be over . it’s all very trivial, to be honest . ”

ALYA: "what pleasantries did you have in mind, exactly?" she asks, wryly. "did you want me to inquire after your family? i'm not interested. that was all a long time ago." this is clearly a bad situation, but she isn't panicking yet, despite his obvious attempts at intimidation. still, she shakes her head at his offer at a drink - as if it's a real offer. she's not going to have a choice, apparently, in the end, but if he's right about anything, it's that alya has no intention of making this easy for him. with a glare, she comments, "you seem to have this all figured out. you hardly even need me here. did the wizengamot approve the use of veritaserum on innocent ministry employees? if so, i missed that announcement."

ENDER: he’s in no rush this time . he’s curious, if anything . as ender remembers, this one has a darkness in her — something resembling his cousin . seeing her name on the list of suspects, he couldn’t help but entertain his interest in her . “ the wizengamot ? they’re too tied up to care . though, i’d hardly say these people — you — are innocent . ” he returns to his desk with a drink, leaning back into his seat comfortably . “ if i remember correctly, you and my sweet cousin got into quite a bit of trouble back in the day . didn’t a girl end up did ? ” he shakes his head disapprovingly, taking a sip . “ doesn’t sound so innocent to me . ”

ALYA: "that was an accident," alya hisses, not knowing if the red haze rising up behind her eyes is born of panic or rage. her hands twitch angrily where she has them placed on the table, wishing she hadn't handed over her wand before this had all begun. the way she's staring at him now, eyes narrowed, reflects her wish to curse him, but alya knows she can't. she supposes she should attempt to distract him with this, if he really is so interested in pressing down on the gaping wound. it's better than questions about the order, better than veritaserum, but remembering it all is so painful, letting anyone at all see that wound inside of her is so horrifying, that alya, for a terrible, selfish second, thinks she'd rather give up every secret she has right then and there. until she remembers herself. secrets are her business. she attempts to return to calm, but there's no way around letting a little disdain into the curve of her mouth as she speaks, more wrongfooted than she cares to admit, "and i can't imagine that's what this is about. if there's something you actually have to ask me, something relevant, go ahead. i'm loyal to the ministry of magic. i'll answer."

ENDER: “ it’s a question of character . ” ender muses, enjoying having this painful bit of information a little bit too much . the death eater doesn’t have an end, per se, he assumes it’ll end as felix’s did, but first he’d just like to have some fun . to explore a past, a pain, that he’s curious about . most of his peers seem to get off on pain, but he gets off on secrets — on picking at the soul . “ i mean, has the order been informed ? are they aware of the kinds of people they’re allowing in their ranks ? you are part of the order, aren’t you ? ”

ALYA: she doesn't need this death eater telling her who she is. she knows already. of course she knows. she's thought about that moment every day of her life. alya ignores the pain in her chest, forcing a blank smile, "the order of the phoenix, you mean? they disbanded after the death of you-know-who." her no-nonsense tone says everyone knows that. "there's no need for them anymore, is there?" alya asks, though it's not so much of a question as a pointed statement, through gritted teeth as she stares him down. "rather like the death eaters. that is, if you can call being thrown into azkaban being disbanded. i've visited azkaban, you know. they're not so much ghosts of themselves as they are ghouls, after all these years. i can't imagine anyone wanting to bring that fate upon themself, can you?" in fact, the idea sickens her. doesn't he know what he's doing? what he'll become on this path, what the blood on his hands will make him into? maybe he just doesn't care, but she can't understand that. perhaps there's a part of her trying to make him realise now, even if it's hopeless.

SOPHIE: "Your cousin is in there with Shafiq, now." That's what one of their fellow Death Eaters had said over lunch, causing Sophie's fork to freeze mid air, and now she's rushing through the hallway, something almost feral in her stare as she looks for the right office door. When she finds it, she swings open the door after breaking the locking charm, storming in. "What the fuck, Ender?" Her eyes are blazing as she looks from him to Alya, back to him. She wonders what he's asked her so far. What she's said. They might be family, but she does not trust him with Alya, the idea of him prying information out of her head something that enrages her. Not just because of what Alya might say about her, about them, but because of something else, too. Something protective. Something obsessive. Sophie turns only to close the door again, not wanting anyone else to see her in this state. Raw. Almost human in how upset she is. She looks at Alya for a moment, then steps closer towards her cousin, closing the distance between the pair of them. "What do you want with her?"

ENDER: he’s about to push further ( though, to be honest, he doesn’t understand the full extent of all he’s pushing for ) but is interrupted by his cousin storming in — only piquing his interest in the untold matter further . “ she’s a suspect . i’m interrogating her . ” he muses, looking from his cousin to alya, trying to get the full picture . he thought it all to be just some old childhood secret — like a sad folktale to get under her skin . but by entering the room, sophie might’ve just given him even more on her . “ this isn’t really my strong suit, though . but i do know how you love to get information out of people . why don’t you take over for me, hm ? you know her better than i do, after all . ”

ALYA: Some of her fear falls away, she feels strengthened. It's not that she thinks she's saved. It's just the effect of seeing Sophie, and the long look they share. Alya isn't the first to break it, which she regrets once Sophie has looked away, resentful of the feelings that linger in her heart. There is still some part of her that thinks, i'm not alone here anymore. It doesn't last for long. The anger comes back and she pushes herself back into the conversation they're having without her. About her. "You. You're with them," she says, glaring at Sophie. It's not a question, just knowledge she had the instant she saw Sophie here, even before Ender said anything. If she's honest, she already knew. She would have known, if she'd let herself think about it. Alya just hadn't because she never wanted to find herself here, uncertain if this sickness in her stomach is the thought of what Sophie is doing, or the thought of how far apart they must be now, enemies to each other as well as strangers. "What are you going to do, torture me? Go ahead." Any defiance before was simply necessary, this is personal, lashing out, hurt and fury and longing mixed into one. She shakes her head at Sophie, furiously trying to regain eye contact, to make Sophie look back at her again. "Why don't you try some Fiendfyre?"

CASSIUS: Their approach should have been easy - they had surprise on their side. Instead Cassius is almost choking in the stench of burning, dead flesh. His fascination, however, is distraction enough. This is sadistic genius at work, which he admires - the only thing is it’s at work against him. His eyes gleam with both interest and avarice. The Order doesn’t play by these rules. So, who does? There’s a battle to be won, but there’s time enough to perform a tracking spell and to trace the magical signature all the way to a wix hiding in the back of an alley. With power like that, he doesn’t know why they’re here, cowering, he can’t fathom it. All he knows is, whatever spell this is, he wants it - and he doesn’t want the other Death Eaters to have it too.

Neville: he'd been enjoying his time — spending it alongside his family, friends and students — and dropping his guard for the first time in months . so much so, that it takes him some time before he realizes he's being followed . once he does, he tries to lead the figure cloaked in the dark away from the crowed, but he's not quick enough to react before his wand his ripped from his hand . though, he's never known a death eater to enter a draw so mildly . so, for a moment, despite the adrenaline pumping in his veins, he allows himself to think, no, pray that the person behind the mask didn't want to be there just as much as he didn't want to die . " look . . . kid . . . " he starts, his hands up in defense as his eyes stay calm and kind, despite everything that could happen . he can't know for sure that it's someone young behind that mask, but their stature is enough to convince him of it . or, at least convince him that he might have a shot at retrieving his wand . " you don't have to do this . "

Rahim: It’s worked perfectly so far, despite the sweat dripping down his neck and the rising panic Rahim feels, staring down at Professor Longbottom, defenceless, at the mercy of his wand. “I’ve already done it,” he responds, snapping, then takes a breath. He has to be clinical, that’s how to do this. Neville doesn’t understand - a Longbottom and a Lestrange, how else would this go? Besides, he’s made the decision already, no backing down, no matter what it costs, no matter how high the price feels. His father has sacrificed as much for him. And he’s thought about it, how easy it would be for someone like him, with his understanding of how the body works, to break it down, sever the system in place. It’s healing in reverse, nothing to it. There’s something terrible about the look of kindness in Longbottom’s eyes though. There’s a moment he thinks, this is the only thing I have left. The only thing that’s good about me still. “I... “ Rahim hesitates, then feels cold, narrows his eyes. It was a mistake talking to him, disarming him. It’s the first lesson of healing, don’t hesitate. Maybe it’s the first lesson of killing too, Rahim realises and knows, he has to do it now. He’s never tried this curse before, been afraid, but all he has to do is think of nerve fibres, pain receptors, focus on that. Channel the curse through the pathways that carry pain. Make Neville stop talking, confusing him. He forgets, in his haste, his grandmother’s instructions, even what Z told him. That he doesn’t have to understand pain for this, he has to want to cause it. He’s missing that step, no matter how ugly his voice sounds as he forces the curse out, desperate to prove that he can, “Crucio.”

Lily: a ragged cry escapes from lily's throat as she watches neville crumple to the floor. without hesitation, she hastens towards them, adrenaline coursing through her veins, her heart pounding so fast it feels as though it might burst from her chest. lydia makes it to her father's side first, crouching down beside him to attempt to resuscitate him, so lily casts a protego horribilis to shield them and turns her attention to the masked death eater instead. "coward," she snarls as she casts a lightning spell to break through his protection charm, the barrier shattering with a burst of blinding white light. "suddenly you're too scared to do anything? you had no problem attacking a man who couldn't fight you." she sends a sectumsempra curse his way that just narrowly misses. "you disgust me."

Arthur: He’d been having a good time, laughing with his family, and then there was chaos. But despite his age, Arthur wasn’t one to back away from a fight. “Maybe not by myself,” he spoke as he defended himself. “But we’ve managed so far.”

Cassius: Were it not in the heat of battle, Cassius would have rolled his eyes. “Then it’s past your time,” he said coldly and slashed his wand viciously in three strikes, a non-verbal Diffindo aimed at cutting Arthur’s torso into bleeding fragments. He was so well-practiced at the severing charm that it had yet to fail him, stepping closer to watch it take effect on Arthur. He would bleed out in minutes. “Don’t worry. You’ll all be together again soon.”

Arthur: Had Arthur been thirty years younger, he might’ve stood a chance at protecting himself. But as it stood now... he felt the pain before he’d realized what had happened. “At least we fight for what is right,” he bit out as he fell to the ground. There was so much blood. He hadn’t been covered in this much blood since he’d been attacked by that snake all those years ago. “And we will win.”

Victoire: she tries to remain focused . on task . as soon as the chaos erupted, she found herself doing everything she could to help get people out . to get them someplace safe . she’s not a fighter — she’s never been one . her instinct, her gift has been to heal . to mend . so she does just that — using her timid strength to lift the injured, and her magic to heal the damage beyond normal repair . throughout this all, she does her best to keep her distance . she can’t be of help in the fighting sense . but there’s one figure : menacing, tall, and cloaked in black that she can’t quite take her eye off of . until she loses him altogether, and her racing, concluding mind is able to refocus on her main task . she’s searching the ground for someone in need of help as she spots him again — and at once she forgets her task together . not because of him, though . but because, even at a distance, she recognized the figure on the ground to be her grandfather . in that moment, she comes to the most fatal conclusion, and she feels a agonizing, heartbreaking scream climbing in her throat . but before it does, instinct and anger calls for to fight back for once . “ STUPIFY . ” under normal circumstances, she’s no match for him . she knows that . not on the offensive, at least . but the curse is sent in pure desperation, pure emotion, and so even at a great distance, it’s enough . at least, she hopes it’s enough . she doesn’t wait to see before she rushes to her grandfather’s side, forgetting everything else .

Cassius: If there’s one thing that gets old, it’s being preached to by the dying - the fucking obsolete. He’s about to scoff, perhaps to perform one last Cruciatus on the dying Arthur Weasley to truly remind the man of how hopeless his defiance is, how powerless when all Cassius needs to do is flick his wand to destroy him entirely. But his power to do so is taken from him with a single curse. He’s not sure whether he hears or feels Victoire first but he does know, sense, without a doubt, that it’s her. Perhaps he’d recognise the sound of her fury unleashed anywhere, even in the fervour of battle, or maybe it’s that her magic feels distinct, all the more so when it’s aimed at him. Whichever it is Cassius recognises her mark on him, hitting with blunt force, before he has time for defence, as he falls not far from where he left the Weasley patriarch dying. His last thought is an inextinguishable lust for vengeance.