A/N: For the Pocket Morty Competition (Karate Morty: write about someone protecting others)
"Go! I'll hold them off!" Ted insists.
Dean hesitates. "You've got a wife and daughter, mate. You gotta get back to them," he says quietly.
"And you've got sisters, a mother, and the prospect of a long life," Ted counters. "A long life that is potentially shortening with each second you waste."
The boy sighs, shaking his head. "You sure you weren't in Gryffindor at Hogwarts?"
Ted almost smiles.
"While this is very touching," Griphook says, irritation heavy in his voice, "your courageous dialogue is taking far too long. Some of us would like to save our own skins- honor be damned!"
Ted chooses to ignore him. "Tell Andromeda I love her, Dean," he says, heart racing as the footsteps grow louder.
"I will, mate. I'll tell her-"
But his words are cut off as the goblin impatiently grabs his hand and pulls him forward.
Ted stands tall. He can buy them a little time, at least, just enough to get them to get them away from here. After that, he only hopes that God will have mercy on them.
In a flash, wands are pointed at him. A Snatcher moves closer, a wicked grin on his lips. "Well, what have we here?" he says, circling Ted menacingly. "Fancied a camping trip, Mudblood?"
The others laugh. Ted remains silent.
"Oh, I know who you are, Tonks. Bellatrix has a special price on you. You're the filth that took her precious sister away."
"I didn't take anything," he says, praying that the Snatcher will keep talking. If he can buy Dean and Griphook time, at least his death won't be in vain. "Andromeda is her own person, and she chose me willingly."
The Snatcher waves a dismissive hand. "None of that means anything to me. All that matters is the gold that you're worth. You're worth more dead. Isn't it fitting? Mudbloods aren't worth a damn when their filthy blood still flows through their veins."
More laughter. Ted wants to reach for his wand, but he knows he'd be dead before his fingertips even grazed the wood. He can't provoke them yet. He has to protect the others.
"You weren't alone," the Snatcher says, gesturing toward the small camp. Dean hadn't had time to grab anything more than his bag and sketchbook. "Where are they? My pockets could do with a little filling."
"Dunno. They were gone when I woke this morning," he lies easily.
"Smart choice. No matter, we'll find them."
Ted prays that he's wrong.
The Snatcher presses he wand to Ted's chest. "I'll send your wife my condolences," he says. "Avada Kedarva!"