7/13/12: I did a little more revising, again. I wanted to use the name Reagan in another work, and not wanting to have the same name for two different characters, I changed her to Lavinia. And changed a detail in order for it to comply with the next chapter a bit more.

Enjoy.

The village was a quiet place, for the most part. It was peaceful. A small living area of witches and wizards, out away from the Muggles. Away from the cities. But news still traveled, as it always does. Those who worked at the Ministry knew of the regime change. Students headed to Hogwarts and having gone to get supplies experienced the change in the Alley, the desolation, the fear. Harry Potter was wanted and hunted; Voldemort had his puppet-Ministry. Everything had changed.

Most felt safe where they were. Out far enough from the city, who would bother a tiny little hamlet this far out into the country? Really?

The people took in those who sought sanctuary, the Muggleborns, the blood-traitors. They came together as a community. Gave them what they could and sent them on their way. Helped them but not for too long.

They came in the night. Like they always did. The ones who were simply benefiting from the situation, hired to do the dirty work of the Death Eaters in exchange for freedom from Azkaban.

Snatchers.

In some ways, he thought them far worse than Voldemort's followers. They lived by no rules, no morals. Rape, pillage, plunder. Magical mercenaries, he once heard a Muggleborn call them. They did what they wanted, when they wanted. Hunted like animals. Knew no bounds.

Jonathan awoke, startled, coughing. He couldn't breathe, waking up from his sleep as a defense mechanism. Stumbling, he threw open the door and, covering his mouth with the neck of shirt with one hand, trailed the other along the wall. He heard his parents in the sitting room, rapidly speaking; they too had just woken.

His sister, two years his junior was hushed by fear, eyes wide and glistening with tears. She had their mother's auburn hair and blue eyes, as did he; they could have been twins if one didn't know the age difference.

"Dad, what's happening?" He tried to see out of the window, whatever thoughts he had confirmed by the screaming, the sound of rebounding spells.

"Snatchers. They're looking for someone."

Fury gripped him. How could the war hit them too? It was just the city. It shouldn't happen here. Unless they were looking for someone important.

Well, Harry freaking Potter hadn't strolled through town with his friends, so who the hell could they have been looking for? Or were they just going all out crazy and burning down their homes for the hell of it?

"Are we supposed to just let them burn our homes down? The hell are we doing standing here?"

He pulled his wand from his sleeve, striding towards the door. Lavinia followed him almost immediately; although still in a slight state of shock, she was with him when it came to anything regarding the war.

They weren't prepared for the sight they came upon. Bodies strewn all over the narrow roads, blood, screaming, the orange glow of flames surrounding them. They could make out a few Snatchers in the distance, holding a young woman, abusing her. The other way, a duel, other Snatchers setting fire to more buildings to smoke out the people, have them come into the streets.

They'd played right into it.

"Lavinia, get back inside." Their father's gruff voice cut through the shrill screams and shouts of spells. "You too, Jon."

Their mother followed soon after, pulling on her children's arms.

They pulled away from their mother, ignored their father, who at any other time, they would have obeyed. But before he could enforce his words, a flash of red struck him, stunning him to the ground. Their mother, too, was stricken by a Stunning spell.

Lavinia shuffled closer to her brother as the figure that Stunned their father closed in. Not as vicious as Greyback in appearance, but rugged enough to show he was weathered, experienced in things neither of the teens wanted to think about.

"Names, kids. You're 'ogwarts age, why ain't you in school?" Cockney accent. Leather jacket. Plaid pants. Boots. Scarf. Rag-tag uniform. Definitely a Snatcher. "Miss the train?"

Jon tried to put himself between his sister and the disheveled man, but Lavinia, despite being younger, was taller. But with a human shield in front of her, she was able to position her wand just by her brother's torso, the tip aimed at the stranger.

"Names, kiddies, now. You ain't worth much, but it's bette' to get you back to your proper place of learnin'."

The man went for Jonathan, who backed up and went to kick the man in the gut. Strong hands grabbed his leg and spun him around, tossing him face down on the ground. Lavinia threw a Knock-back jinx at the Snatcher, who merely landed a few feet away in front of them. Her mind wasn't focusing, the spell wasn't as powerful as it could have been.

She reached down and grabbed her older brother, pulling him to his feet. They ran. Heart pounding, blood rushing in their ears over the screaming and yelling and crackling of fire. The smell of blood and death and soot were rampant as they used alleyways whose outlets were known to the villagers, snaking their way to the surrounding woods.

They reached a familiar stretch of woods, an area they used to play in as kids. They used to spend all day out here, before Hogwarts. Their summers eventually became hanging out with other friends and was spent on homework and other activities and not so much playing outside. They had found an old, assumedly Muggle, trapdoor that led into a large cellar at the bottom. There was a tunnel, lined with old torches, and a door above another cellar at the other end.

When they first found it, it had been creepy as hell. Cobwebs, rodents, a rotten smell. But, with their father's permission and some spells, it was cleaned and smell-free and rid of any possible infestation. They used to play for hours at time, pretending to be daring heroes from their bedtime stories.

It wasn't much, but with the right spells of protection, they would be alright.

"What about mum and dad?" Lavinia asked, head jerking in every direction as if she could really see. It was the middle of night, the only light coming from the moon and the orange-glow of their burning homes.

"They'll be alright." It was just a quick thought. Their parents would be fine. The more he thought about it, the larger the seed of doubt grew in his mind. Jonathan lifted the trap door. "Get down. I'll do the spells. Who knows if they're watching for underage magic still…"

Lavinia climbed down the ladder, surrounded by pure darkness. They had stocked some Muggle things down here for light source as well as some magical objects, back when they couldn't do magic outside of school. Where was the…flashlight, yes, that was its name.

She groped around and found it, flipping the switch. It'd have to do until her brother came down. Adrenaline still in her system, Lavinia decided to search the tunnel and head to the other side. Just to keep busy.

There was a shuffle further down the passage. She stopped, and listened. Footsteps. Not hers. Tightening her grip on her wand (her only weapon, if her life was in danger, damn it all), she dared to continue on in the corridor.

There was nothing ahead of her, as least nothing in the range of this…flashlight. So…where were those footsteps coming from?

Lavinia felt something prod her in the back, hard. It wasn't a wand; it was cold and metallic. Besides there didn't seem to be any magic behind it; there was always something about a wand that told you it wasn't just a stick. A Muggle could think it was a stick and call it that, but even they knew there was more to a wand when they held it.

She heard a click, deafening in the silence of the tunnel. There was more fear than confidence in the voice that asked, "Who are you?"