For: Marliusblackinnon, who provided the prompt. Also for reillyjade for GGE 2014.

Warnings: Graphic character death,

Pairing: Blackinnon

Note: As this fic is divided into two parts, it'll uploaded as a two shot :)

Oblivion

Every now and then, the stars align,

Boy and girl meet by the great design,

Could it be that you and me are the lucky ones?

Lucky ones, Lana Del Rey.

There were screams. Cries for mercy echoed in the crumbling building. Taunting laughter rang in her ears, over, and over, and over again. Marlene watched her family fall like dominoes; hearing the strangled screams abruptly stop; hearing the thud of a body falling to the ground; feeling another tear gently roll down her ashen face. Fireworks of red and green flashed in her peripheral vision, blurring with the ever present white of the Death Eaters's masks.

Scream. Thud. Laughter.

Marlene's little sister, Maisie, was the first to go. Only seventeen years old, she hadn't even finished Hogwarts yet. Now she was dead. Her mother screamed out in pain, begging for the lives of her children, begging for mercy she knew they did not have. She begged for them to take her instead.

Scream. Thud. More laughter.

Maryse McKinnon was pressed against the wall, bound by ropes, forced to watch the brutal destruction of her family, one by one, child by child, life by life, knowing that no matter how hard she tried nothing she could do would save them. No amount of pleading would melt the ice that surrounded the murderers steel hearts. It was the worst kind of torture possible.

The violent screams of Max, Maisie's twin, blurred with the sound of Maryse's as he withered under the cruciatus. Marlene felt a presence at her back, and realised it was her eldest brother, Marc. She was frozen in shock, staring at the blood that now graced the floor. He was yelling something at her, but she couldn't hear. He shoved her, none too gently, out of the way as a curse flew over her head. It was enough to snap her out of her stupor.

Curses were flying everywhere, Marlene didn't know who fired what. Those who weren't incapacitated or dead were fighting, but the McKinnon's were outnumbered, and they knew it.

They refused to give up, the screams intensified, the blood thickened, the laughter got louder and the thuds more frequent. But still they did not stop, the Gryffindor spirit was alive and strong.

Scream. Thud. Laughter.

Marlene could hear the desperate pleas of her heavily pregnant sister, Maria, begging for the life of her young daughter. She could hear the mocking tone in the disembodied voice that imitated her pleas. Maria screamed louder. The tears down Marlene's face had stopped rolling gently, and now they fell unashamedly in a waterfall like torrent. Marc was still at her back, they were both firing off the first curse that came to mind in an attempt to stop this horrific tragedy unfolding.

Marlene's ears rang with the sound of screams; they ran with the chilling sound of the cold, seductive but unsettling voice laughing. It washed over her like an ice cold way, chilling her to the bone and it made her feel like she would never be warm again. The sound reverberated around the room, echoing through Marlene's head over and over again. It would play like a broken record for the rest of her life.

One by one, her family members dropped to the floor like china dolls. Fragile, easily broken, like toys. But they didn't go down without a fight, the McKinnon' had too much Gryffindor pride to be so easily defeated. Littered all over the blood red floor were not only the bodies of Marlene's family, but the black cloaks and white masks of several of the Death Eaters. All that was left of the once proud and strong family was Marc and Marlene. Like the McKinnon's, there were only a few Death Eaters left.

Marlene knew she was going to die. She knew Marc was going to die. Even if they managed to take out the rest of the Death Eaters, Voldemort himself was here. She was good, one of the best duellers in her year, and so was Marc. But even together they had no hope of getting out of this alive. Another tear trickled down her cheek. Marlene didn't wipe it away. She wasn't ashamed. Crying didn't make you weak; it was something her father taught her at an early age. Marlene steeled herself; she used the pain to drive her. She stood back to back with Marc, firing spells left, right and centre. Voldemort stood back and watched, he was still laughing.

Between the two of them, Marlene and Marc managed to take out most of the Death Eaters, but they were fighting a losing battle. Marc had a gash just under his rib cage, and if he didn't get medical attention soon he would bleed out. He was using the last of his strength to stay on his feet, arms out, shielding his baby sister. Protecting people had always been Marc's strength, he was endlessly noble and always putting others' first, especially people he considered family. Their father had died when Marlene was younger, and he'd quickly adopted the role of a father figure.

The remaining Death Eaters moved aside as Voldemort came forward. The whole room felt like a freezer, his presence caused the temperature of the room to plummet.

"How very noble," he drawled, his smooth, velvety voice was seductive in a deadly way. "How very noble that you would stand in front of your sister. Protecting her until the very end. You fought valiantly, but now it is time to move aside. You could join me, your talent is admirable."

Marc's legs were shaking; he was almost leaning backwards on Marlene now. He spat at Voldemort's feet.

Voldemort chuckled; it was almost an inhuman sound. Filed with malice, and so much hate the sound of it made Marlene feel physically sick.

Marc was close enough to Marlene that he could whisper a message in her ear before Voldemort turned his attention back to him. Marlene gave an almost imperceptible nod. Voldemort's voice once again commanded the attention of the room.

"As you wish."

With a twirl of his wand, Marc was forcibly moved out of the way, and held by the one remaining Death Eater. Voldemort turned his icy stare on him. He spoke slowly, and hatred and pleasure at what was about to happen filled every single word.

"You may have the pleasure of watching me take the life of your sister right before your eyes. You do not defy Lord Voldemort and not suffer the consequences." Voldemort's face twisted into a sick smile, and Marlene shivered. "Do not worry," Voldemort smiled a sick smile. "I will make this as painful as possible."

Marlene took a breath. She was sure this was going to be her final moments. She thought of Sirius, and the life they were going to have together when the war was over. She was going to marry him, they were going to dance the rest of their lives to the beat of the Beatles. They were finally going to get a happily ever after. Now they never would. Marlene thought of James and Lily, her closest friends, and Harry, her Godson. She would never get to see him grow up. Marlene pictured Remus, with his amused smile and Peter who proved that looks can be deceiving by successfully becoming an Animagus and defying every rumour that he wasn't smart. Another tear rolled down her cheek for everything that she could have had, but now never would.

Voldemort slowly aimed his wand at Marlene. He said the words with great care, as if he were savouring their taste.

"Crucio."

Scream. Thud. Laughter.

But it wasn't Marlene's body that fell to the floor. It was Marc's. He'd broken free of his captor, finding strength from somewhere, and he took the curse.

Marlene didn't have time to be in shock; that would come later. The words of her brother echoed through her mind.

'If you get the chance, run. Don't look back. Apparate out if you can, the wards are down in the grounds. Whatever you do, don't look back. I love you Marls.'

Marlene did as she was told, using Voldemort's surprise as he found himself torturing Marc not her as an opportunity to run.

She wanted so desperately to stay, she wanted to fight. Kill them all for what they did her her family. She wanted to save Marc, endlessly brave and noble and self sacrificing Marc. Why did he have to push her away? It should be her in his place. Marlene could still hear his screams, endlessly ricoshaying around her mind, burned into her memory. Abruptly his screams cut off. Marlene ran faster, she ran for the boundary line where she knew she could apparate safely. She feared that if she stopped, she would sink to her knees and never get up again. She had to keep going, she had to honour her family by living even if it caused her excruciating pain. Marlene McKinnon was a survivor, and she had to act like one. So she ran.