Spitfire | Fred Weasley [2]

Chapter Ninety-One

[Spitfire : Chapter Ninety-One]

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2 May, 1998 pt. 3

        Entering Hogwarts, covered with soot and debris, Cassie, Sirius, Seamus, and Neville only left a war to join another. The entirety of the Great Hall was overtaken by death eaters fighting mercilessly, shooting each and every unforgiveable curses that came to mind. There weren't many bodies shrouding the floor, but there were a few. And the sight of it was gruelling, young adults and teenagers smeared with blood. There was even a dead death eater, half their face blown off, younger than Cassie herself.

    "Never take your eyes off the enemy," Sirius shouted over the commotion, "fight defensive, Cas, spare yourself before you go in for the kill. They're doing the opposite, we can use that to our advantage."

    Cassie spotted Molly Weasley caring for a young girl, a death eater, who had gotten her leg blown off. The girl was sobbing, clutching her arm as her dark mark burned in rage. Another man, around his mid-forties, was making his way to them both. Cassie ran forward, her wand raised, "Congelo!" The man went rigid, every feature in his face hardening like baked clay. "Intermissium!" Where the man stood now became a six-foot statue of shattering cement. There was no blood, no guts, nothing to represent the human being that once stood there. Now it was just broken stone clattering on the rubble-coated floor. She fell to her knees in front of Mrs. Weasley, the woman wore a grateful, but pained expression as the young girl sobbed in her arms. She had a French accent, and a Beauxbatons pin. "Everything okay over here?"

    "I've stopped the bleeding," Molly stated, "for now, but soon enough my spell will wear off. Can you help me take her to the healers, dear? I can carry her but I need some protection."

    "Of course," Cassie said, she stood up and Molly did the same, holding the injured girl bridal-style. They stayed close to the walls, Cassie shielding them with her own body, and magic. As they dodged through rubble, Cassie turned her head to the young girl. "What's your name?" The girl looked at her, confusion in her eyes. Cassie felt pity for her, for a moment, and then remembered the mark on her arm. "Quel es ton nom?" Cas prayed her French was still up to standard, as her previous tutor was now six-feet deep in a French cemetery meadow.

    "Eulalie," the girl responded, her expression pained. "Eulalie Massenet."

    Cassie nodded, and they continued their trek toward the hospital wing. The corridor outside was littered with injured, bleeding people. On one end there was a series of bodies covered with Madam Pomfreys infamous woollen blankets. Fiona came running toward them, Cassie was glad to see she wasn't amidst the commission, at first she thought Fi didn't even come. "Everything okay?" Fiona asked worriedly, she wore pajama pants under her long-sleeves hijab. However, the sleeves were pulled above her elbows as her hands were covered in blood. "Oh my," she said when she noticed the missing leg, "this is a first."