August 3rd, 1978
Who: Emmeline Vance, Will Jugson, and Frank Smash
What: FRANK SMASH!
Where: Emmeline's house
Emmeline sat at the end of Frank’s couch (in her living room), with one hand on her forehead and the other wrapped around her stomach. She’d just taken one of the potions Dumbledore had managed to obtain (or make, she didn’t know, she was just thankful) for the Order, specifically for the spell that had hit her in the side (there was nothing really for the cruciatus, just----rest, augh). It was the reducto spell which had thankfully been sent silently, or else Emmeline would be in pieces over the Slewyn front lawn. But, there had been internal damages and while she hadn’t felt it during the fight (battle, even), the second she was safely out of the mess she’d gotten sick with pain. The potion was one she’d never heard of, probably some specialty potion aurors kept around, just in case, and it was nasty.
And it made her extremely drowsy, so she was probably going to pass out right there like she had been for the past few days. Errrgh, her room was two flights up and Remus had come by but simply moving was too much effort; luckily Anneliese had been sick the week before so Emmeline was using the excuse that she’d caught the bug when her friends asked what was wrong. Wouldn’t do much good to say she’d been in the middle of a Death Eater battle on the private property all the way across the country after receiving a message from a talking doe-shaped patronus.
Her eyes had just shut and Emmeline felt herself sliding down onto the couch when the crack of apparation startled her almost off the couch and she glared quite fiercely at Will Jugson, who’d just appeared a meter or two in front of her.
“Do you ever knock?”
“Do you ever stop being a bitch?”
Emmeline bristled greatly and stood up, hands stuck fiercely on her hips, ignoring the fact that Jugson was a good twelve centimeters taller than her. “No, and say that again and you won’t be able to walk in a straight line for three months.”
Jugson snorted and moved to the doorway, poking his head around the edge before he forced himself to look back at Emmeline. How did this jerk think that he could walk into her house (and Anneliese’s, but it was still hers too) and talk to her like that? At least Emmeline stayed silent with her gripes with Jugson.
Except for the hexed against him objects she left around the house. But that was just for fun.
“Where’s Anneliese?”
“Out.”
“Where?”
“She’s out, I’m not her bloody mother,” Emmeline said, ready to stalk away but her stomach gave a throb and her she wrapped her arms around herself, almost doubling over.
“Ooh, womanly troubles, Vance?” Jugson said with a curt laugh, standing in front of the mirror beside the couch and fixing what had to be a new set of robes. She hadn’t seen Jugson wear anything that nice in her entire time at Hogwarts; he must be reveling in the auror’s paycheck.
“You’d know all about that, wouldn’t you,” Emmeline muttered, catching her breath and starting away again; the couch was hexed against Jugson, she didn’t have to worry about that. She was almost out of the living room when Will’s voice cut across it.
“Wiggenweld Potion?”
Emmeline stopped and turned around, not bothering to force herself not to roll her eyes. Jugson was holding the vial of purple potion she’d just taken, staring at it closely, intensely, the bottle almost touching his nose. Emmeline didn’t bother in saying another word to him; she just stuck her hand out for him to give it back. Who knew what kind of germs Jugson had.
“Where did you get this? Why----”
“Womanly troubles,” Emmeline drawled, continuing to lazily hold out her hand, shutting her eyes for a moment because another headache was beginning to form. The sound of something hitting the couch snapped her eyes open and Emmeline let out a short shriek that was cut off as Jugson had managed to cross the living room in three quick strides and pushed her roughly into the wall.
“Where’d you get this? Why?” he snarled, grabbing onto her forearms tightly. Emmeline found her self speechless and gaped at Jugson before she managed to shake her senses back into order. Did he know what the potion was for, he couldn’t---no, no he could, he was an auror, she’d just been theorizing about what kind of potions Dumbledore was providing them. Moody must have helped; he knew exactly what they needed.
“A gift from a friend,” Emmeline said shortly, not loosing eye contact with Jugson until his hand let go of her arm with a quick jerk as if he was going to strike her. Her eyes shut tightly, anticipating the blow, but let out a gasp as she felt her shirt being pushed up. She screamed---only to be cut off my Jugson’s other hand, covering her mouth quickly, and hard.
“Shut it---“ but Emmeline continued to struggle under his strong hold and let out a groan as Jugson’s hand pressed hard against her bruised abdomen. “Reducto? Now where would you have been hit by a reducto hex…”
Emmeline kept her eyes narrowed as Jugson’s eyes took on a look of comprehension and he leaned close, shaking his head lightly.
“Ooh, Vance. You’re dead.”
Frank had only come over to Liverpool to check on Emmeline; Moody had said something about how the potion she was taking had a rather taxing effect on the drinker and that… something else; he had stopped paying attention at that point. All Frank needed to know was that someone needed to go and see how she was doing. So, since he was, relatively speaking, alright minus a few scars with no long-lasting effects from the battle, and basically family, and not to mention wanting to go over there anyway, he figured it would be a good way to help repay his baby cousin, because she barely had those 'times-in-need' when he seemed to have them every other day.
Though, being welcomed to someone's screams once apparating into his upstairs room (because yes, he had a room in someone else's home, and yes, he sometimes found amusement in walking down and scaring the crap out of Emmeline for suddenly appearing out of no where) wasn't exactly the kind of thing he was ready to hear. The Gryffindor within him made his legs jiggle and move with anticipation to start sprinting down the stairs—because that should be what he should do. But the newly formed Auror within him sternly held back. Don't go down like a fool, constant vigilance-- oh fucking Moody, he was going to kill him, because it would be better if—Silencio! If he used silencio then--- the fucking house was creaky as hell. Sprinting down the steps, Frank cringed as he heard another scream. It had to be Emmeline, it just had to be that was--- either way it couldn't be something good and—
Fucking-- bloody-- he stopped dead in his tracks, more than disgusted at the scene before him. Such a cold fury started to bubble at the bottom of Frank's stomach that he had no problem whatsoever keeping his elbow straight and raising his wand, pointing it dead center for Will's hands; more specifically his wrists. The other man's hands could be completely cut bloody off and fall to the ground for all he cared. What the hell was he doing, and where the hell did he get off thinking that--- oh, he was going to absolutely not feel the light of fucking day after this, after Frank was done with him because Will wouldn't be able to believe how fucking ready he was to just curse this Slytherin into fucking unconsciousness.
It was a good thing; he remembered a wonderful curse from way back in fifth year. James had had everyone ranting and raving about how Snape had dared to curse him back with something so lethal and scaring. Big bloody cut on James' forehead and everything. It still hadn't gone away either, if he remembered correctly. That would work very nicely in this certain occasion, wouldn't it?
Without a word from the doorway, and such a loathing look he knew had never appeared on his face before, Frank swished his wand and silently cast 'sectumsempra.' He had always had good aim, and Emmeline barely seemed to be able to move anyway. Oh, he hoped he cut Will's fucking arms off, if at least.
Emmeline let out a scream as Frank’s (Frank’s!) spell shot between Jugson and herself and pressed even harder against the wall as Jugson hollered and stumbled back, his left hand spurting blood all over her carpet. Her eyes widened, horrified at the sight, but she wasn’t stunned enough not to notice Jugson’s good hand reach into the pocket of his robe---his wand, he was getting----without thinking, because she could barely think at this point, Emmeline picked up a random decoration from the side table beside the couch and hurled it at Jugson, hitting him square in the forehead.
“GET OUT!” she shrieked, picked up another one of the items (her mother’s stupid muggle garden gnome collection, Merlin’s pants---) and threw it as hard as she could, “GET OUT!”
She threw another but Jugson had sent one last glare toward her and disapparated with a crack, and the garden gnome collided with the wall on the opposite side of the room with a loud smash. Emmeline took in a sharp breath and collapsed onto the arm of the couch, staring at the blood stains on the carpet, on her shirt and it was the sight of splatters that made her cry and she put her hand to her mouth and looked up at Frank.
“He’s---he knows where---he----” He had to be a death eater, in her own house---a death eater! She’d always thought it, she’d always wondered after his brother was found to be one but---that’s why he’d freaked out at the potion, right? He’d know where she’d been injured, he’d known the spell. Oh…oh God, what if he was the one that had hexed her? It made sense, it all made sense---Jugson knew what the potion was for, he knew what it cured and he was able to find her injury and diagnose it in less than a minute. “He’s---he’s a---”
A loud, almost animal-like roar erupted from Frank's throat as he watched Jugson vanish from the spot, and for a second he thought about following him. Where would he go, where would he go, what would be the possible places? Surely not his parents or Mungo's, because that would include explanations that he most definitely wouldn't want to say. Maybe to Nott's or someone equally his crowd because then, he wouldn't have to explain the apparent missing--- holy fuck, that was his bloody finger on the ground. Frank stared at it for a few moments, appalled and sickeningly proud. Maybe it hadn't been his whole hand, but that was a good enough start. Calmly, he swished his wand and watched as the limb (ah, definitely Jugson's index finger) disappeared from sight.
Though, once that disappeared, his still self changed almost instantly. Oh, Frank was going to fucking kill Jugson. Just, just--- with his own two hands, and strangle the fucking life out of the other man until he turned blue. What the fuck was he doing, practically groping her like that? And why had she even let him in? No doubt, he hadn't been invited, but. No way Jugson was ever stepping foot back in this house. Anneliese could go and---He had to go after him, he just had to, there wasn't another option, it was obvious that--
"What?" he asked sharply, turning to Emmeline with rage still apparent on his face. He had almost forgotten that she was there, getting wrapped up in-- blinking for a moment he felt his throat go dry and Frank watched his cousin's face. Guilt spread though his entire body as everything soaked in; the blood splattered across her shirt, her tear-stained strained look not to mention how incredibly limp she seemed at this point. All other thoughts of pursuing after Jugson were let go almost immediately with the dropping of his knee to level with her.
"Sorry-- sorry, I didn't mean--- are you alright? Where are you--" No, he wasn't listening to what Emmeline was saying at all as his eyes raced across her arms, and her face and her body and quickly cleaned the blood away from her clothes. "Did he--- I'm going to to, fucking murder him in his--- fucking, fucking sleep."
“I’m fine,” Emmeline croaked, wiping away at her tears. She could care less that Jugson had manhandled her, she’d just been through a bloody Death Eater battle this past week; being pushed against the wall wasn’t anything to whine about. No, she just felt incredibly stupid for finding herself alone with a Death Eater, let alone allowing him freely into her house, and…oh, Merlin’s fucking pants, what was she going to do about Anneliese? If she told her---she’d already told her about her sister, she was going to think she was insane, and Jugson would definitely deny it, then she’d have to explain how she knew and it would be just one endless circle of lies.
She sniffled greatly and put her hands on down on her lap roughly, trying to catch her breath and figure out what the fuck she should do now. The house wasn’t safe, Jugson was allowed through the wards as he’d just showed; mother fucker. She glared at the blood stained rug and took a few quick breaths. This was fucking madness. Not safe in her own God damn house, even though after the incident with the Potters---should’ve known better.
“He knows I was at the fight,” Emmeline managed, voice strained. She put her hands to her eyes, shoulders shaking a few more times. “The potion---he figured it out, he must’ve been the one that—that hit me, in the---beginning. He didn’t even try to hide---I hope you do kill him.”
It was said with the venom she’d developed strictly for Jugson over the past few months. How amazingly ironic that her best friend was in love with someone who was literally trying to kill her? It didn’t make any sense at all, and Emmeline pressed her hands to her eyes harder, trying to make the headache go away.
An eyebrow rose slightly at Emmeline's last statement, and he looked up from inspecting her hands (no missing fingers, Corner and Moody would definitely be proud of his precision) with somewhat of an amused, yet shocked look. Well then. Oh, but how he wouldn't skip a heartbeat at the prospect of being able to do so.
"You and me both," he answered quietly letting go of her hands but refusing to look at her face again just yet. Gripping onto his wand, Frank directed it to the ground to clean up the blood on the carpet. Even though it would still need to be replaced; who wanted a constant reminder that Jugson's bodily fluids had been all over that? No one, that's right because most likely he was filled with---
Wait. Finally understanding the severity of what Emmeline had previous said, Frank looked up at her with a questioning look. Jugson knew that she was at the fight--- but that was impossible; only if--- "Fucking shit, he's a fucking Death Eater." There had been no public news about the fight, there was no way he could have known about her, unless he had actually been there. Fucking Jugson, just had to fucking be a fucking Death Eater. A fucking Death Eater that could still come into this house too.
Standing up quickly, his mouth stayed open as he thought for those few seconds. "You're--- going to come live with us." No, Jugson didn't need to be getting anymore ideas. "For a bit. Just until you're feeling better. Or I decide to let you leave." Frank bent down again to send the best warm smile he could at that time, and held out his hand for her.
She watched Frank in silence (or as silent as one could be while trying to catch their breath and stop her runny nose) as he examined her hands. Merlin, if Frank hadn't shown up, who knows what Jugson could've gotten up to. Where was her wand? On the other side of the couch, she might've been able to get it after a struggle, but this guy was a death eater---and training to be an auror. With how angry he proved to be at finding out she'd been at the battle (not that he could really prove it, but the thought had been implanted) it didn't seem likely that he would have taken it easy on her, or maybe he would've taken her to...oy, people who might find his discovery a bit interesting. Emmeline would rather die than reveal any of the Order's secrets, and she wondered what they would do---
But Jugson wasn't smart enough for that. He should've kept calm, should have let her think he knew nothing about it and have been on his way. That's why they were going to win this war. While the Order wasn't strong in numbers, they had the brains and the talent to keep up with the nitwits that Voldemort recruited, simply because they were willing to kill for him. What other reason could he have for letting Jugson into his ranks? He certainly would not have made it into the Order, not that she was feeling any better about herself with the way she was handling situations like these.
"Yeah, all right," Emmeline said, taking his hand. She should probably hug him for basically saving her life, but for some reason it didn't feel like something she and Frank did. "Lemme get some stuff."
And think up a mighty good lie to tell Anneliese. It was going to become the norm, it seemed.
