The Potter Residence, April 1980
His ears. They rung. They rung like church bells after a service, or like the static on the radio during a storm. It hurt – it was agonizing. His hands, covered from the soot shooting out of the chimney, clapped over his ears as he winced. It didn't help. Not in the slightest.
He refused to open his eyes – refused to watch the massacre. Remus was a coward for not helping. His thoughts, fractured and jagged, couldn't focus on the task. He couldn't be vigilant. His body ached; someone had punched him the stomach upon entering. His knees buckled, the air in his lungs forced out by a hard fist.
People stepped on his hands; they were frantic to escape or to fight. No one could find their wands. They were missing from their pockets or holsters. The ticking in Remus' brain was counting down – reminding him of the dwindling opportunity he had to protect Lily and Alice. Lily. Alice.
Remus forced himself to stand, shoving away bodies and shaking the hair out of his face; he still couldn't hear. There was no fine line between the crackling of Apparations' or the whizzing of spells. The lights had gone out; this was their plan. Ensuing chaos in the flat, making sure no one had their wits about them.
It was a slaughtering table.
"Remus," he heard above the sting in his ears. "Remus! Do something!"
Do something. Do something. Do something. But what could he do? There were so many faces, so many faces he'd known from school.
Lucius Malfoy, Severus Snape, Barty Crouch, and more. Bellatrix was the very apex of the massacre, her crooked wand launching spell after spell into the small gathering. What could Remus do?
He could barely even gather his own thoughts; what spell could he use? Which spell would work? Why was the floor swaying beneath his feet?
Damn, there was too much! Too much screaming, too many people, too much ruckus!
Sirius appeared in his peripheral vision, his face red from the smeared blood. He was hurt; how had it happened?
Remus took hold of his wand, aiming it at an aggressor in dark clothing.
"Stupefy," he managed, sending an older looking Crabbe into the wall.
The fog in his mind was clearing, the weight of this attack bearing down on his shoulders like a crippling dumbbell he was far too weak to carry. They needed him – now more than ever.
Lucius Malfoy appeared, long hair pulled away from his face revealing a nasty glower.
"The Ministry should've gotten rid of you the first chance they got," he declared. "Avada Ked—"
"Expulso," Remus said.
With wordless magic, a feat so powerful even Remus had trouble conjuring, Lucius sent his spell off into the distance of the flat, blasting straight through the wall. Debris fell from every which way, assaulted by miscast and deflected magic; it was dangerous to be in there.
"Expelliarmus," Remus attempted to disarm Lucius, giving him an opening to get the situation under control.
Bellatrix was the issue; only Dorcas, Sirius, and James had their wands. Three against more than seven was becoming a threat to many lives. Sirius was holding up his end of the flat, cornered by Severus and a man Remus had only ever heard of; Fenrir.
"James," Remus shouted, though Lucius had other plans for him.
Remus moved out of sight, ducking behind a couch as he just barely missed the Cruciatus Curse from his opponent. This was nothing like their classes in school, nothing like their training in the Order. They'd never prepared for a match like this, in such a small space with too many things obstructing their movement. It made things a hell of a lot more difficult and far too dangerous.
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Carve Me Open / r.l. + s.b. /
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