In a world ravaged by good and evil, those toeing the line find solace in nothing. Blood runs thicker than water, but is risking your life and livelihood for a war you never wanted a part in worth it? Is becoming a monster in the eyes of some, and a...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Maeve was crying. She hadn't even been aware that in her animal form she had the ability to cry. The tears were few and far between, but she felt the inescapable sense of dread that ate one alive until they were nothing but nerves.
She'd given up entirely on remaining unnoticed. She ran through halls where Death Eaters and Professors duelled. She'd seen more dead on both sides. It had taken a lot of will power to resist unmasking the Death Eaters who wore their masks.
If they were dead, Maeve decided she didn't wish to know until the battle was over and she was safe. Her parents were still her parents, but she didn't know if she hoped for the worse or not. It probably made her a horrible daughter, but she didn't have time to dwell on it.
The further from the Great Hall, the less carnage there was, but the battle was everywhere. There wasn't a hall free of pockmarked walls from spells, nor the telltale sounds of magical warfare.
It was when Maeve had begun to fear the worst; that she wouldn't find Anthony alive at all, that she'd find him among the dead, when she rounded a corner to enter the corridor that housed Flitwick's Charms classroom. There, in a heap on the floor and staring up defiantly at a Death Eater, was Anthony.
Her wand clattered to the floor as she nearly fell-face first into a pile of rubble. She rose from her crouch in her human form, and in the same moment, threw her hands out instinctively, a roar tearing itself from her throat.
Do you swear to never raise your wand against a follower of the Dark Lord?
The words of Yaxley boomed through her skull. She waited for the pain, waited for the darkness, but nothing came.
The Death Eater went flying. He wasn't wearing a mask like many of the others. His face was one Maeve recognized. Yaxley. His blonde hair had come apart from its neat tail, and he bared his teeth angrily at her as he righted himself at her with preternatural speed, "how — why you little bitch!"
Yaxley raised his wand, eyes wild, and Maeve knew he was going to kill her. She raised her hands above her head to shield her face, her stomach dropping as she cowered in her final moments.
The pain that shot through her entire body was like none other. It was as if white-hot knives were piercing every inch of her skin, as if the world faded to flaming nothingness beyond the pain, as if her very being was going to burst. It could have been a half-second or an hour; it was all-consuming.
"Maeve!" Hands shook at her shoulders as her vision cleared from the white nothingness it had been, "Oh, Merlin, no! Maeve!"
The blurry world sharpened at the centre. Maeve stared up at Anthony's worried face. She could feel the wetness of tears in her eyes, the burn of screams in her throat.
"Anthony?" She croaked, allowing him to aid her to a sitting position. Her eyes darted to the still form of Yaxley. He was slumped against a stone wall, blood staining his hair red. All she could manage was to marvel, "I'm not dead?"
