nora m. peakes (melindicate) wrote in valesco,
@ 2013-10-27 23:23:00

Entry tags:

adian rosenberg, arista sykes, caradoc dearborn, charles spinnet, charlotte sweeting, delilah spinnet, derek dobbs, galvin gudgeon, giada dorny, glenda prewett, graeme dorny, greta catchlove, group, howell williams, jake bexley, kalista borgin, larkin whitby, louis bonaccord, matthew summerby, nona pepper, nora peakes, octavius pepper, oliver comstock, penelope fawcett, rose knightley, rupert brookstanton, saoirse mullet, seth wadcock

Halloween Haunted Castle Event! Open to Everyone!
While she wasn't particularly keen on parties, she was set on saving wildlife. Everyone else seemed to rake in the galleons by throwing large events, no matter the scandals that erupted from them, so why couldn't they? Nora had conservatory's committee for quite some time now, and being the youngest by a good forty years, had devised this plan as a new and fresh way of funding. It helped greatly that she had friends that had access to some of the best party planners (or that she could twist Charlie Spinnet's ear until he helped her out), and things seemed to have turned out well. So far.

For the brave at heart, there was a grand maze that made its way throughout the haunted castle. Guests would be offered clues to get themselves to the ballroom, and if they were truly lost (as Nora was sure was to occur), for just a small donation (it's for charity), any money dropped into a clue box would light up a blue path down the correct route to lead the way out. With all the Gryffindors that Nora had put on the guest list, she was sure they were going to triple their goal.

There was a simpler route than the maze, which was simply to walk through the double doors to the dance floor. Nora was currently wavering between the two, having run out of pamphlets to give out at the front entrance therefore giving her no excuse to join the festivities. She felt rather exposed, as Delilah had stolen her cloak, and when someone tapped her shoulder she jumped nearly a foot in the air.

"Bloody hell!" she let out, spinning around. "You scared the life out of me!"

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bigd
2013-11-21 02:47 am UTC (link)

"What are you doing?" Rachel screeched, lurching forward. The guise of Caradoc Dearborn faced her, laying still on the damp ground, and she found looking away from him impossible though she wished with all her might she could. When the was the last time she had seen that face? That face people had decried as a Death Eater, that face that was supposed to have been dead. That face which had ruined her. Derek staggered up to his knees and caught her before she could reach the body, restraining her flailing limbs easily.

"It's not him," she choked out, fighting numbly against Derek's iron grip. "That's not Caradoc, it can't be, he's supposed to be—they said he was—"

"Well, he's not," Derek interrupted her, tightening his hold on her. "Or at least, his body is fresh enough to sustain Polyjuice Potion."

The words, delivered matter-of-factly, were akin to a slap on the face. Stilled, Rachel peered over Derek's shoulder at the chained Caradoc. Bruising coloured his neck and dotted his face at random. There were small cuts and blossoms of blood, a mirror image of what was on Derek's own face. Hope, in the face of all the sad memories she had of Caradoc, in spite of the times she had cursed his name and wanted both, either of them, him, to die, had awoken within her. "It has to be him," she said softly. "It must be." The Polyjuice Potion would have run out sooner or later, and a Metamorphagus would surely not be able to sustain the disguise for so long without breaking.

Getting to his feet unsteadily, Derek loosened the chains around his own body so he could stand straight, then pulled Rachel up with him. "That's part of the reason I asked you to meet me here. Rachel, you're one of a few that know him as well—better—than I do. We need to be sure that this is him."

She pushed away from Derek and walked around him to stare at the body. With a fixed stare, she regarded the body on the ground detachedly. The moments passed in a long silence before she stirred. "And what is it," she asked, cool composure regained, "that you plan to do with him? Should this in fact be Caradoc Dearborn. Or if, in fact, it isn't."

Sighing, he rubbed his temples. "What is there to do?" he asked heavily. "We all thought he was dead. I thought he was dead, since he and Dor—" Breaking off, Derek shook his head, unwilling or unable to speak the name. "He was supposed to be gone. So what has Caradoc Dearborn been doing all this time?" Beginning to pace, he continued, "Who has he been consorting with? Death Eaters? He was accused of being one, after all. He was one."

He stopped suddenly, looking at Rachel with a hunted look in his eye. "We can't let him go. What if he's reporting back to someone? What if more will follow? If I arrest him, turn him in, there'll be a trial. Then too many elements can go wrong, can't let that happen—" Derek ran a hand through his hair agitatedly. "What is there to do?" he asked again.

Raising her eyebrows, she cupped her throat with one hand, lifting her gaze from Caradoc to Derek. "You mean to kill him?"

"Do I have a choice?" he demanded.

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malengled
2013-11-21 02:48 am UTC (link)

Rachel turned away from him, dropping to her knees next to Caradoc. "Most people might call you mad," she said softly. Derek made no reply, but she could feel waves of frustration, anger, fear, rolling off of him. She did not recall the transformation of Derek Dobbs. Much as she had tried, Rachel had never been able to recover the memories that had been stolen from her. The Derek she most easily recalled was not a war-hardened Hit-wizard that had lost his fiancée, but a carefree boy just on the cusp of manhood, starting out on a career he resented having to join. She found the present Derek infinitely more tolerable, but there was a darkness in him that did not allow her to predict his future actions. "Why is it you've brought me here, exactly? Surely for more than identifying a body. To absolve you of the act you're about to commit? Stop you, perhaps. To give you my blessing? To aid you? Or to report you."

Derek breathed in, a noise that sounded strangely like a choke, before he answered. "I needed—I just needed someone to know… Someone to see, that this wasn't all—" He trailed off, before adding softly, so softly she nearly didn't hear, "Someone to tell me this couldn't have been all in my head again."

The last time Rachel had ever seen Caradoc, he had left her to gallivant about Europe, deserting her without much more than a word. She'd thought, some day, they might marry, have some kind of life together. It had never come to fruition, and while some of her memories might be missing, she remembered perfectly well how much of the blame she placed on him for the way at least part of her life had turned out.

"You're one of the only people left that I can trust, Rachel," Derek said, a tender sort of desperation in his voice.

She watched the subtle rise and fall of Caradoc's chest, a motion she couldn't say how much longer would go on."Do you remember the last time I saw him?" asked Rachel tonelessly. "Do you remember what it is he did to me?"

"I do." Derek turned to face her, a kneeling, ghostly figure in all white, lit by the moon and stars. "It's another reason why I wanted you here. I cannot risk sentimentality concerning him, it's too dangerous. This must be dealt with efficiently. I know the strain, the danger, it places on you and your family, but Rachel, if I could have done this without involving you, I would have. If I had any other choice—"

"We rarely have a choice that serves us," she murmurred. Her hand rested on Caradoc's chest a moment before trailing away. "So you understand why I have to do this."

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docstheword
2013-11-22 02:00 am UTC (link)

A significant slip of warm wood slid into his curled fingers, and it was with a determined solace that Caradoc's hand twitched to grip it. His thoughts did not pool (though they very much wanted) to how wrong Derek had been bringing him to Rachel, Rachel, but instead darted toward the endgame of it all. Magic was returned to him; Rachel had not only roused him right under Dobb's nose but given him her wand as well. He could defend himself, now, finally put an end to this life or death dance with Derek Dobbs.

His eyes flashed open with Rachel's last words. A surprised and quite obviously betrayed Derek stood still for a moment, which was all Caradoc needed to conquer his wand and overpower him.

His tall body thudded unceremoniously to the ground.

Quickly, in an effort to ignore how heavy the other wizard's final words hung the air--- HOW COULD YOU-- Caradoc moved to free himself. A swish, and his restraints broke apart. A flick, and they were banished completely. Rachel's wand felt odd in his hands, like it knew its true partner would never execute such crude magic. It made him long for his wand.

Somber, he stood up. Again, Caradoc was grateful for a distraction, something more glaringly obvious to attend to than the witch beside him. For--- his brow furrowed as he bent down silently to pick up Derek's wand. In his hands, it felt vaguely less foreign, but still not at all familiar. For, while there was the world and more he had wished, and did wish, he could say to Rachel, it didn't quite feel... he already knew how this would end. Now, it was just a matter of how complicated the journey getting there would be.

When his eyes locked with hers, and he delicately extended his arm out to return her wand to her, he knew it would not be complicated, but instead painful. He took a gentle step toward her, speaking only after she had taken it.

"I have to go," he said suddenly, breaking his gaze to deal with the slumped body that needed propping, and support, if he were to disapparate with it properly. But--

"I'll come back," Caradoc promised, his eyes steady, but at her feet. "Come back. Meet you. Explain everything. I just can't---" He gave a weary look to the figure hanging off his shoulder. There was only so much time. "I'll come back this time. Rachel---" His eyes finally flickered back up to hers; she, of all people, would be able to detect the genuine sincerity, fear, and gratitude on his face.

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