The Attack: Main Thread

The building tension in the room finally snapped, breaking into an array of light and destruction. Teagan had seen battle before. Hell, she'd grown up with it. She hadn't been much different than the young people here now when Voldemort had risen again in power. After that, years of cursebreaking was hardly easy. She'd thought taking a teaching job would be easy, that it would grow tiresome.

Laying where she fell to the tiles, with Mycroft leaning over both her and Tess, she knew she'd been wrong. At least before she only had herself to worry about. Now...there were countless lives that she felt responsible for. Two of the most important were here, now, as she caught sight of her future sister-in-law. While they had not really started mending things, the older witch felt a jolt of fear at the prospect of something happening to her.

Pain erupted above her left shoulder, a vulnerable area where they were. Looking down, she saw a large slice of red along her collar. It wasn't exceptionally deep, but it hurt like hell. But as she looked over at Mycroft, she fought down her discomfort. He was in charge, and he needed her now. To defend. To distract. To conquer.

Moving quickly, she saw a group of frightened students just across the room. Unlike some, these were younger years. Not having been seen by the Prefects, the small group of students were desperately trying to hide behind whatever cover they could find.

Just as Teagan started moving towards them, she spotted a man all in black honing in on them as well. Her wand already out, she shot a few spells at him. It didn't take much to get his attention, even with the chaos around them, and he turned towards her.

Spell after spell, they exchanged. But something seemed to be slowing Teagan's moves. Her limbs felt heavy, as she moved to block the curses he threw at her. Eyelids closing slowly, she wondered about the cut. Her hand dropped, as if of its own accord, and suddenly her world cut out.

Not again...

The pain wasn't something you forgot. Like razors on every inch of your skin. Slicing, tearing, separating everything you think you are from your actual self. Leaving nothing but the broken center. If felt like it was never going to end, the heat and the agony...

But then it did. Just as swiftly as it came, the feeling was gone, leaving Teagan to collapse to her knees on the floor. Her gown was forgotten as she took comfort in the cold tile against her heated hands. After a foggy moment, her head jerked up to see what had happened. Standing a good twenty yards away, one of the small boys was holding up a large glass centerpiece. The man who'd attacked was sprawled out on the ground. He was still moving, most definitely, but he was slow.

Gathering her wits, Teagan felt around for her dropped wand. As she gripped the wood tightly, the man started to sit up, a curse clear on his lips.

"Incarcerous!" she cried. No matter what these people did, she would never stoop to their level. Ropes engulfed the man, his wand flying off somewhere. Leaving him for the others, Teagan rose shakily and walked over to the students.

"Let's get you out of here, okay?" Her voice wasn't nearly as strong as she wished it could be, but it would do. Glancing over her shoulder, she spared a few seconds to look for Mycroft. In the fray of everything, she couldn't find him, and her heart twinged in fear. Clenching her jaw, she pressed forward, getting them all to safety.

Adrenaline coursing through her veins as she tried to take in everything that was happening. Children were hiding, crying, seeking refuge in any way that they could possibly save themselves from the gore. She had been in attacks before, she had been in their position, and now, she was trying to protect them. For children that she had never met, never cared for, or never liked, she was defending them. It was her soft heart, or the fact of the skewed ideology of how sacrifice and bravery came hand in hand.

She tried to usher them from the corners, sending them to Astrid and Walters, towards Shuter, towards anyone that could possible get them out. She wasn't strong enough to carry them, but she tried to sneak them towards safety, promising a better outcome if they hurried and stopped crying.

"Stop it!" she hissed grabbing a fourth year by his shoulders. "Stop crying, be quiet and get to safety. We'll be fine" she wiped his tears and gave him a shaky smile, not even believing it herself. A shaky nod from a shaking boy is all she got before they were ushered.

She had done her job, partially at least, getting a handful of younger students to the prefects. She trusted them to get them to safety, because this was not a moment for egos to show. What house you were from, what your views on certain people were didn't matter, for humanity at the moment was what was asked of them. So she tried, tried to hold a brave face, a friendly smile, letting them hold her so tight that it hurt to move. And she would kiss them and tell them their parents would soon be there, to keep strong and not go to far, like a mother hen. It was not her role, not a cloth she was cut from but she lied to them, until it was time to let them go to other hands.

Seeing that there were less children in the area she took in the scene as a whole picture trying to figure out what was going on. Jake and Marilyn were working together wonderfully, with that young girl sending charms. She hoped they would last, but as Marilyn fell she could only trust for Jake to help her. Tess knew she would be more of a liability if she ran over, she knew they could carry on.

There was Miss Finn who was fighting like a valiant soldier. She was taking on so many Black Widows, working relentlessly for them to fall. She was admirable, Tess had to admit. The woman's only downfall was turning her back. It was too late, there came the unforgivable that made her shriek. She could almost hear them, had it not been muffled by the crying and chaos. Immediately the woman got up, shaking, but nothing but a fighting spirit. Tess knew she wasn't needed, especially as Miss Finn began ushering students to safety too. She sighed in relief.

Suddenly shrieks, shrieks of utter pain were what brought her away from the scene and on to the main show. Her eyes panned to the scene near her. The woman that had attacked, that woman was shrieking, as ropes seared against her skin. It was painful to hear, the desperation in her voice, the weakness. Her brother stood in front of the woman, he had done that. She felt a mixture of admiration and horror as he didn't bother to stop the pain. Instead it continued, but rather than the woman's death coming from his hands it came from her. The young girl was stupid enough to get close, so close as to be killed. Never knowing the girl in no way stopped Tess from tearing up. It was by no means a kind death as the gurgling began. She didn't want to look.

The moment that she turned her back, is where her own downfall came.  A loud explosion came from her left. A cry of pain erupted from her mouth as she was thrown across the room. Debris flew everywhere, her dress, that had once been pure white had been now stained with blood, carried death from the ends, and ripped to shreds from the attack. Her hair that had had rested against her shoulders now covered her vision, and her legs, that had held her together, couldn't even function. Her ears rang, her body was shaking as it seemed to try to function after the explosion. Her senses were betraying her, as her hearing was gone for the moment, instead she felt the own heartbeats against her drums, she could taste the debris from the castle in her mouth, she couldn't bother to reach anything, her wand a few feet from her.

She forced to open her eyes, pleading with her body to give her another chance to go back, to try and make her brother proud. But her body wouldn't budge. Lazily her eyes fluttered opened, across from her she could see a hazy figure of Walters and Astrid, and the origin of the bombardia. The realization that it wasn't some Black Widow that had brought her down, but rather a means to escape had brought her down was a failure in its own.

Slowly, so very slowly did her ears pop and the first thing she heard was her heavy breathing, then something overtook the silence that had surrounded her. Screams, chaos, destruction keps going, yet there she was, the ball of her dreams ruined, her probability of coming out alive, had decreased significantly, all the more so at the cuts on her side from the hard concrete. She let the tears fall. In the battlefield was where she realized she would spend her last moments, so far away from her aspirations. She dreamed of old age, a marriage that functioned (love being too much of a stretch), and having something attached to her name, never at sixteen during a ball.

She didn't bother to lift her head and cry for help, instead she let the tears fall at their own accord. The tears were not of sadness, but acceptance. As her head spun, she let her eyes close, the only thing on her mind were the eyes of the one man that she at least got one dance from. Accepting it, she let her body rest, letting go of what little control she was grasping at.

Mycroft's anger seemed to fuel his magic, he realized this immediately as the rope had a different consistency. It was searing the woman's skin and something in his eyes flashed. He had always been careful, even in his auror days to try and save those who'd committed the crime. The reason had been that he had seen more than enough death during the Second Wizarding War. He tried to reign in his emotions, knowing that the magic would stop stinging her skin. Slowly he saw the woman fall, and he knew, based on her breathing that she was weakened.

It was sad really, seeing that for being such a large group, she had no backup. No one batted an eyelash as their so called commander had fallen. He walked towards her, already thinking that she had given up. In no way was he expecting the way the woman's hate ran deep. It was like a horror story, the poor and foolish Estelle got too close. He saw the way the woman had lost her sanity, the way her eyes flashed dangerously.

"Isabelle, I finally have you. I will take pleasure breaking all of your bones, one by one."

This was all wrong, it wasn't, it wasn't the girl! Poor girl, he knew her well from classes. He cried out for her to stop, but she was too quick and in her fury killed the wrong girl. He moved faster towards the woman, and then saw her looking at him.

"You will never capture me."


She took unsteady steps back, but Mycroft kept walking towards her. In her insanity he would hate to see which other innocent person would fall under her grasp. He halted, once he saw the wand against her neck.

"No one ever captures Constance Vale."

She murmured it as she pressed it even tighter. He never considered the woman to be so willing to die at her own hand. Mycroft knew enough to try and keep her alive, trial her, and then she could live the sentence that was handed to her. But this wouldn't be the case.

"You need to think about this, you can't take the coward's way out."

He wanted her to pay for the crimes that she had committed. Death seemed like she cheated the whole wizarding community from seeing her take her sentence. He didn't pity her though, not at all simply because it would humanize her. And a person like her didn't deserve it.

"Dimitri, you are in charge! Roof tops, come down. File in from every entrance. Do it!"

Even in her cowardly escape via death, she never once stopped giving orders. Immediately walking towards the dead body, he bent down and took her wand. It was sad to see how for so much fight, and supposedly fighting together, the Black Widows were cowards and thought more about themselves than their leaders.

His hand shook, it hadn't done that in a while. He still played the way her eyes dulled from the killing curse as she fell. He shook his head, and looked over towards Teagan, who seemed to be running with a big group of students. He sighed in relief. In the explosions, chaos, and destruction, he couldn't see Tess, but he trusted she was fine. Taking in a sharp breath he tried to get his mind into focus. Moving towards the young girls body, he closed her eyes and knew that a proper burial would be needed.

"I'm so sorry" he whispered softly to the young girl formerly known as Estelle.

The witch somehow got on her feet, but even though she was keeping most of her weight on the uninjured foot, the pain was still almost unbearable. Almost. She conjured up a cane to help a bit, but didn't even bother with healing spells. She knew she would never be able to heal that by herself, let alone in the midst of a battle.

She shot a few more Stunning Spells towards any Widow she could see. Take them out, but don't kill them. Even though they were responsible for so many deaths, including Oscar's, Mary couldn't bring herself to use the Unforgivables on them. She didn't want to, either. The pain was now searing through her whole body and she could feel her ankle pulsating angrily, there were tears forming in her eyes, but she kept going. She assumed it was the adrenaline flowing through her veins that kept her conscious, but the witch didn't have enough energy to really focus on why she hasn't passed out yet.

Suddenly, a loud explosion erupted and turning around, she saw Tess being thrown across the room. She was lying on the floor near Mary and she made her way to the British Head Girl. Even though she was hurrying, it took a while, because of the pain and trying to avoid the spells that were being shot left and right.

"Tess! Tess, come on, open your eyes!" she said when she was close enough and have knelt on the floor next to the girl. She could see tears flowing down her cheeks, there was gashes all over her body, her dress was a mess, covered in blood and bits of marble from the explosion.

"Come on now, it's okay." Mary was saying, more for her benefit than Tess'. She knew the other witch had most likely passed out, but she had to keep going, she had to keep saying things, just to make sure she was, in fact, still there. A string of curses escaped her lips as she tried to stand again and failed miserably. Tears were now running down her cheeks, obscuring her vision, but she didn't care.

There she was, only eighteen years old, fallen in the midst of various debris, covered in blood, with a possibly broken ankle and a huge gash in her hip, sitting next to an even younger passed out girl who gave her best. And for what? Even if they defeated the Widows, someone else would probably have a similar idea or just want war. It would never be over and she had chosen a life to be in the midst of it, always. She would never have a normal life, could never have a family and be safe with them. She had made a decision to become an Auror and even though technically, she could still change her mind, she wanted to follow it through and do her best.

It will be a lonely life, Mary realized as she watched the battle still going on. And a short one, as well.

As she watched people fight through her tears, she came to a conclusion. It wouldn't matter what her life will be like, as long as she fought for what was right and would always keep going. And right now, the important thing was to get Tess to a hospital. A blow to the head like that probably wasn't good.

She scrambled on her feet with the help of her cane and somehow picked Tess up as well. Swinging the girl's arm over her shoulder, Mary got rid of the cane and, ignoring the searing pain, held Tess by the waist, transferring the witch's weight onto herself and her good leg.

Conjuring up a Shield Charm around the two of them, she slowly made her way out of the Ballroom, dragging Tess with her. She kept muttering under her breath, some of which were comforting things and the other just plain curses when the pain got too much. At times like that, she would lean on a pillar, a broken chair, a particularly big chunk of debris or whatever was near.

It took her a very long time, but she finally made it to the hallway with Floo Network. She knew she must have looked horrible, pale as ashes, her face wet with tears, sweat and probably blood and her hair sticking to it. There were Aurors standing by the fireplaces, helping the students get in and trying to calm down the crying ones. One of them hurried towards the two Head Girls, took Tess off of Mary and got her in one of the fireplaces, taking her to the hospital. Mary followed soon afterwards, muttering: "St. Nick's general wizarding hospital" and then collapsing as soon as she stepped out of the wretched fire place at the busy hospital.

Lucas held his younger brother, waiting. Hoping he would wake up. Finally someone came, Lucas didn't know who it was. It was some Auror, they picked Jareth up and took him away. Lucas watched as they left, looking around him. So many from both sides had died, Then it struck him. Where was Thana?

"Thana? Thana? Has anyone seen Thana? " Lucas called out, desperately trying to spot her. He looked around, still calling out. "Has anyone seen her? Where is Thana?" Lucas kept running in the hall, helping others where he could. Desperately looking for her. He prayed that she hadn't done something stupid or used an unforgiveable.

Marilyn heard her commanding Officer call for her and she put her wand away only after the widows were shackled. She wanted to go to Jake but she knew she had priorities to face. The numbness and shock from her injury were faded now that the battle was over and the witch doubled over from pain, forcing back the bile that was threatening in her throat and shaking as she forced herself into an upright position, her injured hand black from the curse.
The witch had no idea how she found it in herself to stagger over to Clement and manage to stand straight, though shaking and pale in the face, her left arm obviously limp at her side as she willed herself to stay upright.
Her voice shook from pain and she saw spots in her vision but she was still standing, she’d been through worse.
“Here, Professor Clement.” The witch forced her chin up as she’d been raised to, and swallowed hard, focusing every fiber in her being on not fainting, “Here, but I…” She blinked a bit longer this time. “I was hit, Sir. I- I- recognize the curse.” Her voice was shakier now but still holding, “I think- I think it…” She shook her head trying to manage the sentence. It was actually quite a famous curse, but Dark Dark Magic, shattered every bone it hit, potentially fatal if it hit the wrong place, turning the injured area a telltale black, though only while injured. Agonizing at best… But Marilyn wasn’t just an Auror in Training, she was Marilyn Caldwell, the witch that had survived worse torture and escaped. And her willpower was the only thing keeping her head up right then.
“Shatters every b-bone it h-hits-“ The witch swayed slightly, her voice quieter than before, the pain making her dizzy, but she refused to fall, to throw up, or otherwise show herself wounded. A mixture of pride and an intense sense of duty were to blame for that. And she hadn’t seen Jake, yet. She had to make sure he was okay. Victoria. Tess. But mostly Jake. Marilyn needed to know he was okay more than she wanted medical attention and they’d have to force her to go to medical before seeing Jake. She would refuse to go until she’d made sure he was okay.

Apollo had done his best to get people out and protect them as best he could. When he had practically pushed Sierra out the door he said to her. "Run" before going back to help. He had stopped in his tracks when he heard someone yelling Thana. He turned to see a Professor from Hogwarts and went over to him. "Thana's missing?" No. She couldn't be missing, she was going to be okay. Right? "Please tell me she is okay?" He said to the man.

Bryson was stunned at how fast this came to be. He knew it would happen but not this soon for his liking. The Gryffindor knew what he had to do and he took out his wand and began to protect what he was assigned to do. He had to protect those who needed to be protected and he would have to die trying. Yes that sounds a little cliche but he knew that in this situation he would have to no matter what. Bryson helped out some younger years and began ushering them out of the ballroom and threw a few spells here and there.

Marilyn nodded and winced at his spells, but also sighed slightly in relief as the sling appeared, lessoning the strain. The witch nodded at his dismissal and was about to set off to look for Jake (and THEN go to medical) when her mentor stopped her with a whisper,
"Good job tonight, Caldwell. You made me proud."

"Merci." she whispered, smiling softly through the dizziness as she made her way off, walking relatively slowly towards the exit as she scanned the area for Jake and by extension of course Victoria. The Auror-to-be also kept an eye out for Tess, but seemed unable to locate her.
Not much of a surprise, being as out of sorts as she was.

Where's Thana, please tell me she is okay?"

Lucas stopped in his tracks for a moment, seeing the boy. He was from Salem, Lucas could tell that much. Lucas had a sneaking suspicion this boy was the reason that Thana had come to visit Salem.

" I don't know, I can't see her. So I don't know if she is okay or not, I just hope she is" Lucas replied to the boy, still searching for her amongst the rubble. Lucas knew Thana wouldn't of left without everyone else, so she was still here.

Scar kept her grip firmly on her wand, silently. Until, inevitably the tension snapped and chaos broke free. Spells flew left, right, whizzing past her, and she reacted quickly, drawing her wand and blocking a spell aimed right at her by one widow.

"Caldwell, Waters, take out as many as you can, kill if necessary."

She heard the hurried order, and with the adrenaline pumping, her heart racing, and a mixture of fear and a sick sort of excitement clouded out any feeling of guilt she'd have to killing someone. It was part of the job, and she'd accepted that.

--

Lucy had been having the time of her life, dancing, just enjoying herself dressed all prettily in her gorgeous red dress. That was until everything stopped dead, and she realised that those damned Widows had come. She had been briefed, being a prefect, and had come with her wand, prepared. Though, she hadn't thought that anything would happen, until they started to cast spells.

Her first prerogative was to get the students out. People everywhere were shouting orders, screaming spells, and it was pure and utter chaos. She blocked a spell as it flew her way, and ran, hitching up her long skirt and kicking off her heels to better run, and began to help some of the younger years to get to exits, protecting them from a plethora of curses all up in the air.

--

Scar was thankful to have worn something short, that didn't inhibit her movement much. She fought well, competently, blocking and dodging, following the orders given to her at the beginning of the night. She didn't order students, her first prerogative was to stop the Widows, at any cost. There was one in particular she was fighting. He was rather scrawny, but despite this still cast a powerful spell. She decided to take the offence and cast at him before he could cast at her. He blocked, and she tried again, firing rapidly, again and again, gaining ground. Until finally, she let a green coloured spell shoot, hitting him squarely in the chest. The light left his eyes and that scrawny body dropped to the floor with a thud. Her first kill. And she took hardly any notice as she glanced over to see how her sister was going.

As the fight raged on, Scar managed to take out a few more widows, having been thrown back into a wall at one point, though luckily escaping, her head was throbbing, but all that came to a halt, when she heard Professor Clement's voice boom through the hall, announcing their leaders death.

"Caldwell… Waters, to me.”

She walked quietly over to where Louis was, her eyes widening when she saw Mari's blackened arm. She stood quietly as Louis treated it, for the moment, and Mari walked off.

"I'll get Waters to help me with the dead. You're dismissed."

She nodded silently at his order to help, as the adrenaline faded and the realisation of the horror of what had happened cemented itself in her mind "On it, Professor Clement," she murmured to him softly, as she walked to help with the dead.