WHO: Lily Evans, Bryce Winchell, & Voldemort
WHAT: He lets them go. Seriously.
WHERE: The house, then Hogsmeade
WHEN: Sunday
Being blunt and to the point was the best way to handle things.
So that’s what He decided to do.
Lord Voldemort burst open the room which held the mudbloods, silently enjoying the dramatic affect the door banging against the wall created. He stared at the two pathetic forms in the room, and then, in a very uncharacteristic manner (though little did these two know), he swept his arm out of the door and glared.
“Go.”
“What?” the professor exclaimed, jumping to his feet. Lord Voldemort did not like to be questioned, but his plan was already taking place, and did not want to deter by answering a stupid question.
“Go.”
Lily was possibly just as perplexed as the professor was at this point. Go? she thought, but didn't say it aloud, not willing to make the same mistake that Professor Winchell had. What did this mean, though? Was he just letting them go, or was it--what in fuck's name? Voldemort didn't just let his captives go.
He was supposed to kill them. So why? Lily gulped.
"... you mean, leave?" she finally asked, a tremor to her voice.
“I knew there had to be some reason Dumbledore made you Head Girl,” Lord Voldemort drawled, flipping his wrist so that a watch appeared around it. Not actually checking for the time, he made a show of figuring out the seconds to get the captives antsy. He knew exactly, to the minute, of what was about to happen, but it was always an overwhelming thrill to put on a show.
Lifting his eyes from the watch and making it disappear with another twist of his wrist, “You have two minutes.”
Winchell faltered for a second, then grabbed onto Lily’s wrist, ready to race out of the house and apparate as soon as they were in the clear of the wards. Fuck this, they needed to use any opportunity they could get, who knew if they’d ever get another.
Lily stood there for a moment, in shock, unsure of wether what was really happening was happening despite the hand on her wrist. She stared, unblinkingly, into the eyes of the Dark Lord for a long moment...
...and then she ran.
Her heart was beating a hundred miles a minute as she felt the billowing of Voldemort's cloak, heard the pounding of her and the professor's feet on the stairs, through the entryway, and all the way out into the chill, frigid air of the night.
"Let's go, let's go! Apparate!"
Lord Voldemort moved along the floor boards, careful not to step on any cracks, to the window, moving the shades open with a graceful wave of his hand. He watched the two run out into the field and immediately disapparate. He’d give them the two minutes. He was a man of his word, though many found that hard to believe.
Not feeling like summoning his watch again, Lord Voldemort put one hand up and with the other, with his long, thin fingers, counted off the final minute before his game began.
They arrived a second later, in the middle of the village of Hogsmeade, side-by-side. Lily was panting, even though she hadn't run very far at all, and bent over with her hands on her knees. There was adreneline pumping through her veins like nothing else and she wondered if she had ever been that scared in her life.
But, they were in Hogsmeade now. They could go back to Hogwarts and be safe and--Merlin, they were free.
The sense of relief that washed over her was like a stream of cold water, and Lily gasped, unsure of wether to cry or laugh.
With twenty seconds remaining, Lord Voldemort strode out of the room, looking over the railing of the story and down at a group of his Death Eaters that had assembled. Not bothering to attempt to figure out who was who, he pointed at the two nearest the back (standing in the back, meaning they were the last to arrive), “You two are to be in the Forbidden Forest, kill on sight,” he commanded, and didn’t recognize the Death Eaters as they bowed and disappeared.
Five seconds. Four.
Three…two…
One.
Hogsmeade was always beautiful in the fall.
The first thing Bryce heard were two, nearly simultaneous pops from off in the distance. His head shot up and he was immediately on his guard, looking around. "What was that?" he asked, feeling the fear snake up in him again.
Lily hadn't heard the pops, and stared at the professor skeptically. "What was what?" she asked, finally deciding upon laughing as the best choice. He's being paranoid, probably hearing things, she thought. Yes, it was like a small child alone in their room at night. They saw and heard only what they believed was there.
He’d given them two minutes, and they’d dared stand around?
Coming out from the alley besides Dervish and Banges, Lord Voldemort felt insanely proud that he’d calculated their apparitions perfectly, right to the four cobblestones they were currently standing on. He was brilliant.
Not bothering to announce his precense with words, as he’d already lowered himself too much by holding eye-contact with the mudblood girl, Lord Voldemort shot a nasty severing hex into the pole holding up a canopy Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop, breaking the glass and causing the wizards and witches inside to scream.
That Lily did hear, and she didn't have time to think before the professor grabbed her, putting his body over hers to keep the raining glass from across the street from falling on her. She made an exclamation of shock and closed her eyes.
Oh God, she felt horribly tired. Her moods were swinging from the greatest highs to the greatest lows all within minutes and she didn't know how much more of this she could take. She didn't know how much longer it would be until she just gave up. This was hopeless, fucking hopeless.
When the last of the glass had finally hit the pavement, Bryce apprehensively got up and let her up, looking around tentatively. He could hardly believe what he saw.
People, all around, were panicking, screaming, and in the midst of the chaos... it was him. The face that he had thought just a second ago he was rid of forever. "Run! Lily, we have to go!"
The screaming of the villagers was, to Lord Voldemort’s ears, as if the finale of his impeccable symphony had begun to play. There were crescendos and the staccato of the cracking of wood and skulls, the tremolo of the waves of pain that shot through the people and the buildings, it was beautiful.
He watched with narrowed eyes as the mudbloods began to run, but Lord Voldemort did not run, no, he simply disapparated every twenty feet or so, moving faster than they could ever possibly move. They could disapparate too, as they’d shown, but he’d find them, oh, he would find them.
Neither Lily nor Bryce knew where they were going, just that they had to get away. Apparition wasn't even an option at the moment--the panic racing through them both was keeping the focus far away. They had to get away and they had to get this fight away from the innocent bystanders.
Panting all over again, their heavy breathing carried them down another alleyway, then another, then another--so many that they couldn't discern where they were in the town anymore. Lily was suddenly reminded of a certain incident at Diagon Alley. That time, the strongest dark wizard of all time hadn't been chasing them... she would have felt better, as bad as it sounded, if the Death Eaters were after them right then.
Lord Voldemort found very few things amusing, but the ease at which he was able to shatter glass, make buildings tumble, scare the literal life out of people---that enormous power, the knowledge that he contained such power, it almost made him want to laugh.
He didn’t, but almost.
The mudbloods were running, they were attempting to---this might make him laugh. They were attempting to simply run away, run away from him. No one escaped Lord Voldemort when he didn’t want them to, yes, there had been times when he wanted them to, to get back to the Minister and shove the bastard’s nose into the mess he was helping create. But not now.
No, it was not in his plans to let them escape.
The mudbloods reached the hill, almost to the gate, that opened up to the grounds of Hogwarts, they were almost there, but not quite. Not quite was never enough, with Lord Voldemort.
“Avada Kedavra!” he shot, aiming for the girl, because she’d dared to look him in the eye.
Lily froze on the spot upon hearing the sound of the incantation. Her legs shook and her eyes widened and time seemed to slow down..
Bryce's heart stopped and he spun around faster than he had ever thought possible, the green light filling his eyes as it rapidly got closer--closer... It was going for... "Move!" he screamed at her, as he said it jumping into Lily with his side, shoving her out of the way of the deadly light.
...but not in time enough.
Lily fell, sprawled on the hard ground beside her, and was only able to look up in enough time to see the jet of eerie green light shoot straight through the professor. It seemed like hours, as she watched his immediately lifeless body fall to the floor with a horrific thudding sound.
The Gryffindor's throat seemed to clench up and her eyes widened to the size of Quaffles, but she couldn't say anything. There were no words. It was—
“Blast,” Lord Voldemort muttered, taking his time to make his way to the girl. It was not in his plans for Winchell to die first, no, he was the man that had dare take his position at Hogwarts, he, he deserved a long and painful death.
He was lucky.
Lord Voldemort looked down at the girl with a slight snarl. Pathetic, with all the purebloods in the school, they’d resorted to a dirty mudblood to hold the title. At least they had a pureblood as Head Boy; though his father had been an Auror, there was always room for persuasion when power came into play.
“You’ve killed him,” Lord Voldemort said to the girl, his wand pointed stiffly at her, “he died for you, you killed him.”
Lily shook her head furiously, not taking her eyes off of the professor. How could he--he had jumped in front of her and--she hadn't asked him to--she would have rather... and now he was dead and... Oh fuck fuck fuck he was dead.
"No--no no no no... you can't.. he didn't... I didn't..." she muttered incoherently, sounding frantic. She got up and backed very quickly away from where he was, wanting nothing more than to get away from the body.
“I can’t?” was the only part of her rambling that Lord Voldemort caught, and now, now he laughed. A shrill, cackle of a laugh, but he laughed at the girl, and for a moment, for a second, he lowered his wand. When laughter came to him, it was to be enjoyed, he was to relish it because whatever had caused him to laugh truly deserved it.
I can’t, how utterly ridiculous.
Lily had the sudden urge to cover her ears, anything to keep that laugh out. It was quite possibly the worst sound in the world--well, aside from the sound of the professor's body hitting the ground; she wondered if she'd ever forget that--and all she could do was wish for it to stop.
Fumbling around in the pocket of her robes, she groped for her wand before realizing that she didn't have it. Merlin, what was she going to do? He was going to kill her and there was nothing she could do about it, not even fight back.
Enough wasting time. Lord Voldemort shook his shoulders slightly, just for half a second, and flicked his wand toward Lily, making her stand so that he could see her fall. With a grin, he spun the girl around a few times to see her red hair spin, like the final motions of a ballet.
But, before she could take her bow, a large bolt of a curse landed in the ground by his feet, and Lord Voldemort swirled around, dropping the girl and sending a killing curse toward the squad of Aurors that had turned up behind him. He snarled; they’d messed up his plans.
He was able to deflect all of the Aurors’ curses and hexes, taking a few down with quite ease and found a moment to turn and finish the job with the mudblood—but she was gone. Gone.
Lord Voldemort’s robes flared around him with the anger that was erupting from him. No one defied his plans, and these Aurors were going to pay.
Lily didn't know how long or how far she ran, but when she finally reached the other side of the Forbidden Forest, she was about ready to fall over and die. Barely emerging from the trees, the Head Girl gasped a few shallow breaths before she collapsed onto the ground, unable to go any longer. But it didn't matter.
She was home.
