Fight the Good Fight
Chapter One: Dumbledore's Army Indeed
Dark, New York alleyways are not safe places to begin with, even in Muggle areas, even if you're a Witch, even if you're a Wizard, especially in the dusk, as night sets in. The full moon had not yet risen as Ivera and Sam, her 17 year old brother, ran as fast as they could down the alleyway. Ivera's curly, raven hair flew behind her while her body screamed in pain from the strain of running for so long and so fast, but her mind commanded her to keep going. Their chests heaved with the effort to press on, to keep going, to survive, the air of the warm, summer night ripping through their lungs. They could still hear the five mens' feet pounding behind them, chasing them. Ivera didn't dare look back, though she sorely wanted to. However, she knew for a fact, as it went in every situation like this in Muggle movies, that as soon as she did so, she would trip over something, most likely her own feet. Pointing her wand over her shoulder without looking back she yelled, "Reducto! Reducto"! The men easily blocked her spells. "Stupefy"! a tall, blonde man called, barely missing her. Another man yelled, "Impudente"! narrowly missing Sam. "Petrificus Totalus"! Sam fired back. "Levicorpus"! Ivera yelled, hearing the satisfying sound of a man's yells of surprise, as he was suspended upside-down in the air by his ankles. If she had more breath to spare, Ivera would have laughed, but right now there were still four men chasing them. "Imobulus"! Sam shouted, his own shaggy, raven hair whipping his face as he pointed his wand over his shoulder. "Cruc-", a young-looking, brown-haired man began, aiming at her brother, but Ivera knew, and before he could finish she shouted, "Langlocks"! She assumed she hit the man, that his tongue was glued to the roof of his mouth because the Unforgivable Curse was never uttered. They passed a pair of trash cans, and Ivera waved her hand at them, sending the pair crashing behind them, trying to slow up the men. "Confundus"! she yelled, firing blindly, missing the men. "Incindeo"! Sam cried, hoping to catch a Death Eater's robes on fire.
Ivera communicated with her brother telepathically, "Sam! Disapparate! Warn the rest of the Order. I'll draw them off. Go, you can do it better than I can, go now"! Sam communicated back, "No Ivy! I'll be damned if I run off like some coward and let my sister fight Death Eaters, no-"! Ivera fired a hex before cutting him off, "For one second put aside your ego and do what I ask, do what needs to be done, to preserve the last damn hope we've got! Warn the goddamned Order! God damn-it! For all our sakes! I don't have my license yet, I'll Splinch, and I won't make it all the way to the Burrow, you need to go! I can handle a few Death Eaters, don't underestimate me just because I'm your little sister, and so help me God if you don't do this, and by some miracle we make it out of this alive, I-will-kill-you-myself!", then more kindly she added, "Don't, I know what you're going to say, but I'll only slow you down. Please, go, I love you, I'll be fine", even though deep in the pit of her stomach she felt otherwise. "Reducto"! Sam shouted, then sent back his message, a tone of defeat evident, "Alright, alright, you win, but don't worry. I'll get Lupin, Tonks, Mr. Weasley, Kingsley, and whoever else will come, we'll come. I'm not gonna let anything happen to yo-", Sam's thought was interrupted because just then, he tripped over a large, metal rod that, in the darkness he had not seen. Ivera watched in horror as her brother fell, and lay behind, the Death Eaters closing in, mere footsteps away. "Ivy", he whispered the nick name he'd made for her when they were kids, the name he always called her, thinking that these were his final moments. No. Ivera whipped back around towards her brother, standing in front of him, between him and the five Death Eaters shouting, "Protego"! Ivera strained to keep the protective shield up as the Death Eaters fired spells upon it, rapid fire, kicking, pushing, and clawing at it as well. She could feel her shield weakening, her arms weakened likewise as she fought to keep them raised. "Go", she whispered to her brother, but when he did not she shouted, turning to him slightly, looking into his deep, fearful, honey-hazel eyes, "GO"! The final thought he sent to her before Disapparating was this, "Ivy, I love you", then a loud crack sounded and just as the Death Eater's began to break through her shield, Sam was gone.
After a moment Ivera came to her senses, turned tail and ran, her shield charm shattering only a few footsteps later. "You had better run little girl", Ivera heard the shaggy, dirty-looking, black and silver tinted-haired Death Eater with yellowish eyes snarl, "because when I get you, then we're really going to play". Desperately, Ivera tried to summon the happiest memory she could, in her mind she came to the day she first arrived at Hogwarts, the day she was sorted into her brother's house, Gryffindor. She remembered his smiling face, and let out a ragged cry, " Expecto Patronum"! Her wand's tip glowed white, and a soft little, misty light came from it, then faded into the Darkness. It's not strong enough. If that's not happy enough... Then she had it. Sam. Ivera thought back before her parents' split, before her mom moved back to America, before all this fighting, this killing, this war, to a time when she was truly happy, and there it was, her seven year old self and the eight year old version of Sam were standing in the backfield of their Ireland home, a sunny, warm day, everything beautiful and green. Ivera squealed in delight as the strangely rainbow colored butterflies flew around her in a perfect circle, then made oddly wonderful zigzag patterns in front of her. She looked up into Sam's smiling face as the butterflies obeyed him, happy to help entertain his little sister. Ivera reached out her small hand to touch the beautiful butterflies when one fluttered in and came to rest lightly on her nose, causing her to giggle cheerfully.
A warm feeling spread through her chest, even as she came back from the memory, where now everything was dark, hard, and cruel, now in a time where your friends and loved ones died before your very eyes, and there was nothing you could do about it, but know your own death was always just around the corner, where you never knew if you'd be alive tomorrow, and the warm air, not light and pleasant, but suffocating as she ran for her life. But the warmth inside her was, light and kind as it had been in her memory. Desperately, she cried over her shoulder, "Expecto Patronum"! Immediately a ghostly, white figure sprang from her wand's tip, the animal that fit her best, an enormous, white wolf. It howled eerily, then growled menacingly at the Death Eaters, who paused, actually seeming rather stunned and surprised at the appearance of her Patronus. Though it could do no lasting or even great damage, the abnormally large, white wolf bared its razor sharp teeth, advancing towards them, obscuring their view of Ivera as she ran, baring the way with it's sheer size, its eyes glinted the same deep blue-green, gold-flecked as it's owner's. Only one was bold enough to speak. "Hmm..", the shaggy man, said, musing, "already a wolf girl, is she. Oh, he's just got to let me keep this one. Hey, you hear that girl? Already got a wolf spirit, what do you say I give you a wolf body too"? There was an unrestrained greed on his face and in his voice. At his words her Patronus lunged forward angrily, snapping it's great, powerful jaws at him.
Suddenly, something whizzed through the air, slight, shiny, and sharp. Ivera heard a dull thud, then was immediately aware of a sharp pain in her leg. She cried out in pain, stumbling, and nearly fell, but continued as fast as she could, limping with a long dagger embedded deep within her leg, just above the back of her knee. She kept going, but for Ivera that was it, at that moment, panic struck her, and she made her mistake. She looked back, to find there were only two men behind her, the shaggy one and the young one were missing. There was no time for her to register the meaning of this because just then she crashed into something hard, and it held her fast as she tried to rebound off it, though a thick, black smoke obscured her vision. She pointed her wand at whatever it was holding her and cried, "Reducto"! She was immediately freed, but as she turned, she was grabbed from behind. She screamed, the dagger biting deeper into her flesh, then shouted, "Re-". "Expelliarmus"! A voice shouted over hers. Ivera watched in despair as her wand flew from her hand, and at the same time her Patronus disappeared, gazing into her identical eyes and fading with an apologetic howl. "No"! she shouted, hand outstretched, as if beckoning her wand to return to her, begging her wolf Patronus not to leave her alone, yelling more to herself than anyone else. "Muffliato", the same voice muttered, now no one would hear what they were going to do, no one would come to their victim's aid.
She resisted the man behind her, pushing, tugging, and clawing at his arms which were wrapped firmly around her waist. She stomped at his feet with her large, beat-up, black combat boots, one of which blood was leaking into, when suddenly he picked her up, raising her off the ground, causing her to emit a cry of alarm, still pounding on his arms as he laughed raspily at her. He dropped her down, catching both her arms in a vice, holding her to him so she could no longer move them. The man jerked her painfully, growling into her ear, which she found frightening, and irritating at the same time. "Let-me-go"! she commanded, struggling against her captor. This only caused the men to laugh. She kicked him in the shin, but he didn't let go, though he seethed in pain, his long fingernails digging into her skin. Ivera watched, internally terrified as the men closed in around her. The man who she'd used Levicorpus on had apparently been freed from it, because now there were four men in front and to the sides of her, plus the one who held her, something about it being the yellow-eyed man that held her worried her more than if it were another. "Let me go"! she cried, losing a small bit of her courage. "No, I don't think so". the man holding her said lightly into her ear, "Remember? It's playtime". Ivera struggled even harder, "No! No! Get off me. Let me go, damn it! Let me go"! her normally soft Irish lilt was severe and sharp with fear, as well as anger.
The man holding her moved her so that he was still behind her, yet she was turned so he could see her face, and she his. She realized with both disgust and fear that the one who held her was the shaggy man, Fenrir Greyback, attempting to escape as he did this, thinking surely his grip would have lessened, but if anything, it increased. He gripped her so powerfully it pained her, his long, claw-like nails dug into her even more, painfully scratching her bare, arms, unprotected by her dark grey tank top, drawing blood, making her feel the one thing she hated to be most, weak. Fear assaulted her as she gazed into his unnatural, feral, yellow eyes. He smiled at her, and she saw his teeth, sharp, pointy, elongated canines. She fought even more now, to get away from him, but he easily held her to him. "Well", he murmured, grabbing her chin and turning her towards him, so he looked her in the eye, "aren't you a pretty, little blood-traitor, looks like you've got a little cut". Ivera tried to pull away from him, to get the feeling of his hand off her face, but she could not. As he smirked at her mockingly, she spat in his face. He stopped for a moment, standing stock-still, his eyes closed. Ivera stood as still as a statue, terrified at what she had just impulsively done, and what he would do now, surely he would kill her. She gasped when his eyes snapped open again, fierce, yellow orbs, burning into her.
His grip on her chin tightened still until his long nails pierced her skin, causing her to wince. She squirmed uncomfortably in his grasp, until he released her chin, with a small chuckle, slowly wiping the spittle from his cheek. Fear gripped her as he smiled. "Bellatrix", he called, slowly running his hand down the back of Ivera's right thigh. "Yes, Fenrir", she smiled sadistically. "I believe", he replied, smiling still, his clawed hand just above where the dagger entered her leg, "this is yours". Ivera had no time to prepare herself for the pain to come. Greyback suddenly, grabbed the hilt of the dagger embedded into Ivera's leg, and pushed it deeper, then twisted it brutally as he yanked it out. Ivera's let forth a ragged, hoarse cry that pierced the air as he did so, then fell silent, though her haggard breathing was easily heard. At her pain, the Death Eaters seemed to take delight, laughing as she was in agony. Greyback nonchalantly tossed the bloodied blade to Bellatrix who caught it in the same manner. She eyed the blood happily, cooing to the blade, "Oh, we never miss, do we"? as she wiped the blood on the front of her robes, before tucking away the dagger.
Ivera hung forward in Greyback's hold, clenching her eyes shut, turning her face from him, as the only other things to see were the others. Ivera heard a cold voice speak, "Open your eyes". She ignored the man. The man spoke again, not so calm as it was before, "I said, 'Open-you-eyes", as he said the last bit, it sounded in Ivera's mind, commanding her to obey, the Imperius Curse. No! She resisted, fighting for control over something as simple as her eyes. However, these men, these dark wizards and witches, they were far more experienced then she, and held more power, as they were full-grown, and learned, while she was only a 16 year old Witch, who, at the moment, was quite alone. "NOW", the voice in her mind commanded, and her eyes snapped open.
"What do you want"? she asked. A man stepped forward. "Lumos",he said, a soft light coming from the end of his wand, and in the new light, immediately she recognized him as Lucius Malfoy. How did they find us, how did they find us here, in America? How did they know? "I see you haven't bothered with masks or cloaks Malfoy, about time too, everyone already knows who you are. Voldemort's lap-dogs that is. And what's this, five on one? You can't even take care of one underage witch without a whole group of you? You thought little ole me would give you that much trouble? I must say, I'm flattered". "You would have died already for such disrespect, traitor, were your blood not pure. Speaking of blood, your mother should be joining us momentarily...in advance, the Dark Lord gives his condolences". What? No... A loud crack sounded as two of the Death Eaters Disapparated. "You leave her out of this"! Ivera screamed, fighting against Greyback's hold.
As she did he lowered his mouth to her neck and rasped, "Keep fighting girl, it makes your blood pump all the faster, and tempts me all the more. It smells so...delicious, it's maddening". Ivera jerked her body to get away from the feeling of his hot breath on her neck, but he held her in such a vice she could not. Had she not already known she would receive no aid from her other captors, Ivera would have begged for it, but now instead, as she knew they only relished in her pain and fear, she did not. Instead she kept it inside her, and let nothing show but anger and hate. With hate she glared up into the eyes of Lucius Malfoy, with the sincere desire to hurt him, in anyway possible. If I could just get my wand, if I could just get my hand free. Merlin's Beard, don't let him bite me. He's the one isn't he? I remember Lupin saying it. Fenrir Greyback is the one who bit Professor Lupin, and turned him into a Werewolf. He's the one who loves turning kids, thinks it's his job. Sick bastard, he won't do it to me, he can't, I won't let him. Oh Sam, where are you?
Lucius chuckled. "What's so funny"? she hissed. He laughed again then answered, "You". "What"? she snapped. "Well, it's just that, my son, Draco, you know him", Lucius answered, "he seems to have this notion in his head that you're, oh what was it he called you, oh yes, brilliant, even for a blood-traitor, he even tried to convince me that you shouldn't be killed. He said it would have done you so much better to have been sorted into Ravenclaw, or even Slytherin". Hmm...it seems Draco got one thing right, though I don't know if "brilliant" is the word I'd use. "Even for a blood traitor" it seems that I'm not only noticed for that. But the last house I'd ever want to be in is Slytherin, hell I would take even Hufflepuff over Slytherin any day."Oh, well, I'll thank him next time I see him. Though it's almost impossible to believe that Draco is related to such a monster, when you get to know him he's so you know, smart, kind too, though I don't think you would know it. Somehow I just can't see kindness being smiled upon among Death Eaters, but with a name like that, I can't see you guys smiling upon much. And as far as my "brilliance", something makes you think differently"? Ivera asked. "Yes, well it seems to me that Draco must fancy you, because, so far as I can tell you're, if nothing else, a pretty face. Not brilliant at all, rather American actually".
"Well", Ivera spat, "maybe it has something to do with the fact that I have spent five weeks of every single summer, and every other Christmas here since I was eleven, or maybe it's because, as you obviously already know, my mother is an American Witch. By the way, if you must know, I was born IN IRELAND! But perhaps you didn't know that, maybe you just thought I spawned from the back of the Irish Wizard Marcus O'Connor, which is quite understandable, given your inbreeding. Strange isn't it how all you Dark Wizards are related, sort of like hillbillies, aren't you? You know what hillbillies are, right? Just how much Muggle blood have you got, by the way"? At this Lucius Malfoy's face reddened and contorted in rage. He stood immediately in front of Ivera, and clouted her across the face with a heavy hand, splitting her bottom lip in the process. She spat the blood onto the ground, hair in her face she smiled through the pain, looking up at him. "Insolent little brat"! Lucius spat, grabbing a fistful of her hair and giving it a good yanking. Ivera couldn't help it, everyone had always told her she just didn't know when to quit, she often did Fred and George Weasley proud. Before he'd died, Sirius even told her she reminded him of himself, when he was younger. "So", she breathed, "what's Narcissa, like, your sister or something"? She heard Greyback chuckle, and she would have too, but at that moment she saw Lucius' blazing eyes, and knew she had gone too far, so she thought she'd slip in one last remark. Concealing her fear she murmured, "Oh dear, I hope Draco hasn't gone and gotten her pregnant, that might complicate things a bit. That'd make her his mom, aunt, and both grandmother and mother of his children, and you his father, uncle, and grandfather to his kids. Plus his own kid would be his brother or sister, and son or-". Lucius cut her off, he'd reached his boiling point. Releasing her hair he shouted, "Crucio"! his wand pointed directly in Ivera's face.
Ivera immediately stopped talking and slumped against Fenrir Greyback, twitching and writhing in pain, though refusing to scream, her face twisted up in anguish. Pain like she'd never experienced in her life, not even the total combined pain measured up to this. Like a thousand burning hot knives were being slowly ripped through her, as if she were being burned and stabbed to death at the same time. She seethed and grunted against the pain, gnashing her teeth. The Imperius Curse had been lifted and her eyes clenched involuntarily. Will-not-scream. Will-not-scream. Sam-please-help-me. Small noises escaped from her throat, and from her lips, sounding almost like little screams. Just then as the first screamed ripped from her throat, her body's pain threshold betraying her mind, two loud cracks sounded, though Ivera, in her current state, did not notice them. She was aware of nothing but the pain and its cause until a voice shrieked, "IVERA! IVERA NO"! Ivera managed to open her eyes and saw before her, captive in the arms of a Death Eater, her mother, Olivia O'Connor.
Ivera tried to speak, but found she could not control her voice, "Muh-om"! she screamed out, "M-Mu-um", she cried, her voice rising in pitch from the pain. The glimpses she caught of her mother through her own sporadically clenching and unclenching eyes showed her mother wandless, beaten, and bloody, with bruises on her face and around her eyes, the same honey-hazel eyes that Sam alone had inherited, a white dust on her clothes as if she'd crashed into drywall and it's collapsed over her, curly, light brown hair dirty and matted with the stuff. Just when she felt like she could hold out no longer, just as she felt with every fiber of her being she was going to die, Lucius Malfoy said softly, a small smile upon his lips, "Crucio", and lifted the curse. She lay panting against Fenrir Greyback's chest, eyes fluttering open and closed, her thick curtain of curly, raven hair hung in her face, and the only reason she did not fall to the ground was because Greyback held her to him, she was too weak even to think of attempting to pull away when she felt his hot, foul breath on the skin of her neck, or even when his disgustingly wet tongue came into contact with her soft, unblemished skin. "For a monent", he rasped mockingly, his teeth scraping her neck, "I was worried you would not scream".
"Get away from my daughter"! Ivera's mother shrieked, struggling against the young Death Eater holding her back. "Or what"? Greyback growled, smiling, showing his gleaming, sharp teeth, "I seems to me that you are in no position to make threats, Blood-traitor". "Mum", Ivera whispered hoarsely, "I'm sorry". Ivera's mother looked straight into her daughter's eyes and spoke, "Ivera, this isn't your fault. This is His fault, You-Know-Who's doing". "Oh", Lucius said, "so she doesn't know. Funny how people lie to the ones they love. How could she not know, about your precious, Order of the Phoenix? You're a member, as is your brother, and your father. Perhaps it a good thing the Americans are so uninformed". Ivera hung her head. "Ivera"? her mother said quietly, "What is he talking about"? "I-I", Ivera started, but did not know where to begin, but she didn't have to because Lucius cut her off. "It does not matter", he said, "all you need to know is that this is what happens to members of the Order and those who defy the Dark Lord, this is why you are about to die. You pledge your allegiance to Dumbledore and this is what it gets you, he has not even come for you". "No"! Ivera screamed, "Mum"! "But, you know girl", Lucius said lightly, "you should have known this could happen, after all, look at the rest of the Order, look at the lives of your silly little friends. Neville Longbottom, parents tortured to the point of insanity. Ronald Weasley, a family of blood-traitors, poor as dirt, disgrace to the name of Wizard. Hermione Granger, a Mudblood of all things. And dear Mr. Harry Potter, lost his parents, his godfather, Sirius Black, watched the Diggory boy die, and he is hunted by the Dark Lord himself. It is as the Dark Lord said, he will lose everything. As will all who oppose Him. I have not forgotten that night in the Department of Mysteries, I saw you among those foolish children. Resisting has gotten you nowhere, it seems your predecessors, your mentors, your teachers, have set you up for a life of pain, suffering, and failure. Dumbledore's Army indeed. Letting children fight the war".
Ivera snarled, "Whether we fight or not, it does not keep us from being murdered in our own beds. You cowards kill us just the same, regardless of age, or blood. Some of us would rather have a say in how we go, to die fighting for what's right, for something worth it, to stop Voldemort. We are not defenseless, we are not alone. Dumbledore's Army"! He seemed to consider her words for a moment, then slapped her across the face, his own face calm and unfeeling. More blood dribbled from her already split lip. "Ivera"! her mother cried, struggling against the Death Eater's grip. "Is that so", he said coldly, "because right now you seem quite defenseless, and rather alone. I see none of your Dumbledore's Army here, I see none of your Order here, all I see is a weak, little girl". He motioned to the Death Eater holding Ivera's mother and the man released her, pushing her to her knees. Ivera's mother stared up into her daughter's eyes, wet with tears. "Mom", Ivera croaked, "Mom". "It's okay", her mother said soothingly and lovingly, "it's alright sweetheart, I love you, tell Sam the same. I'm so proud of you, both of you. You've done well". Ivera's mother knew she was about to die, and the only reason she remained calm was for her daughter, she did not want Ivera to see her in distress, panicked, and she really truly was proud of her two brave children. She'd never known that her own children were actively fighting against Voldemort, no idea the danger they faced, but now that she did know, she could not have been more proud of them.
"How touching", Lucius sneered, coming to stand at Ivera's side, looking her in eye. A smile lit upon his face as he raised his wand, pointing it at her mother's heart and shouted, "Avada Kedarva"! A jet of green light shot from Lucius' wand, a sight Ivera would never forget, a sight that would haunt her dreams forever, as it hit her mother squarely in the chest, knocking her over backwards on the ground, eyes open and unseeing, dead, and Lucius laughed. "NO! MUM! MUM"! she screamed again and again, "MUM! NO"! "Mummy, Mummy", Bellatrix cackled, "Mummy, no. I don't think she can hear you darling". "You bastard"! Ivera screamed, lunging at Lucius with all her might, however, barely moving at all, as a result of Greyback's restraint. "I'll kill you, I'll kill you! Let me go, and I'll kill him myself, I will". Ivera snarled, trying again and again to lunge at Lucius, struggling to raise her arms, but utterly failing against Greyback's iron grip. "Let me go". she croaked miserably, tears coarsing her face, still feebly struggling.
As she sobbed, Greyback easily held her with only one arm as he was much stronger than her. He wiped a few tears from her cheek, and the blood from her chin though the wound bled still, licking the combination off his own fingers, murmuring, "I just can't wait to taste the rest. Delicious". At this Ivera tried more fiercely to pull away from him. However he was still many times stronger than she. "Morsemorde"! Lucius Malfoy shouted, a jet of shooting up from his wand, into the sky, summoning the Dark Mark, Voldemort's mark. Greyback grabbed her arms again, holding them down by her side with one hand, while with the other he raked his long, sharp, claw-like nails across the left side of her jaw down to the edge of her shoulder, pressing hard, applying pressure until he broke the skin, cutting deep, and drew blood, leaving five long lines of crimson. For some reason, this action pained her just as much as the Cruciatus Curse had, maybe even more. She seethed and breathing heavily, little grunts and moans of pain escaped her, and she bit her lip, wincing in pain, this time determined not to scream. "Go on", he rasped into her ear, "scream, scream for me". The thing that truly bothered her the most was that he then licked the blood away, smearing it on her neck and shoulder, as well as his own chin, staining his lips and teeth red with it. Blood trickled down her arm, chest, and back, staining her shirt with crimson streaks. Lucius, it seemed, had no problem with this, apparently it was rather routine. Greyback rasped, "Oh, you must know, you taste simply, divine. Your blood is so pure, so, sweet". His mouth glided over the wounds he'd made, savoring the tangy, copper taste, when suddenly he hauled off and bit down hard in the left hollow of her neck, quite near the collarbone, puncturing the skin deeply, even more blood than before, coming from the new wound, covering her neck, shoulder, and chest with her own blood. Ivera gave an ear-splitting cry and tried to jerk away from him, only causing herself more injury as his razor-sharp teeth dug in deeper, ripping into her flesh. She continued to fight, breathing hard and weakening quickly. She wretchedly screamed Sam's name as Greyback wrenched his head a little, twisting his teeth in her flesh, greedily consuming her crimson life force, smiling as he did so, at the cries of pain she emitted. Over and over, her screams pierced the night, but none could hear, none that were not part of the cause that is.
"Now, now Fenrir", Malfoy chastised Greyback as he would a child, "you don't want to go and kill her, not yet at least. It would indeed be a dreadful waste of such pure blood. Who knows, maybe the Dark Lord will let you save her for later on tonight, a little treat for during your transformation. Or perhaps she could be kept, as a little pet". Ivera snarled at Malfoy, attempting to rip out of Greyback's hold so she could throttle him. Finally, Greyback withdrew his teeth from her flesh, raising his face to Lucius', the blood covering his mouth and chin was easily seen, as were the shiny, crimson stains on his black Death Eater robes, shining, glinting stains that were not his own, his eyes glowed yellow, much more vibrantly than before. "You know Lucius", he said breathily, wiping his chin with the back of his hand, letting his hold on Ivera slacken, "she is stronger than most...for one so young. Her blood and flesh, fresher and sweeter, better than the usuals". These words being used to describe her body and blood disgusted Ivera, and angered her. She weakly tried to pull away, snarling, "Get your filthy hands off me. Let me go, you sick bastard"! Greyback pulled her to him again, holding her so tightly it hurt her. "Hmm...", Greyback mused, rasping into her ear, " I wonder, if you taste this good, I wonder then how that dear brother of yours would taste. After all, he is young and fit, from the looks of him, strong too... oh, he must taste good. Maybe I'll give him a try as well, but don't you worry your pretty little head about it, I'm sure he won't taste nearly as good as you do. Though just the thought of tearing his throat out makes me even hungrier".
For a moment Ivera was silent after he'd said this, and just when he thought she was not going to reply, she answered darkly, "Touch him, and it will be the last thing you ever do, I swear it, on my very own soul. I'll kill you", Ivera breathed shakily, "every single one of you". "What was that", Lucius smirked. "I said", Ivera replied, voice deathly low, still looking at the ground, "I'm going to kill you all". "You know Lucius", Greyback mused, "I think I like this one. She'd make a fair Death Eater. The Dark Lord is always looking for new recruits. Perhaps he would show her mercy and let her become one of his servants". "Perhaps", Lucius answered, "but-". He was cut off when the loud cracks of more than a few people Apparating sounded, and Ivera and the Death Eaters found themselves surrounded. "Stupefy! Stupefy"! they cried altogether, hitting the young Death Eater and another. "Avada Kedarva"! Lucius Malfoy shouted, a jet of green shooting from his wand once more, seconds before he Disapparated. Greyback used Ivera as a human shield, as the hostage she truly was, shooting off spells from over her shoulder. "Until next time", Greyback snarled into Ivera's ear, before throwing her to the ground. There were several loud cracks as the remaining Death Eaters Disapparated, taking their stunned comrades with them.
In the background a familiar voice barked, "Is everyone alright, no one's been hit have they"? Ivera lay panting, sobbing, and bleeding on the ground until a firm hand gripped her injured shoulder. Instinctively, Ivera screamed and squirmed in pain, fighting to get out of the firm grasp. "No! Please"! she cried, "No"! she struggled weakly. "Oh, Arthur"! Mrs. Weasley gasped audibly.
"Ivera"! a familiar voice said, "Ivera, oh my god, look at me". the voice commanded softly. Slowly, she opened her eyes, and saw her brother, Sam. "Oh Sam"! she cried, pulling him into a hug, squeezing him as tight as she could, which was pathetically weak. "Sam. Sam". she sobbed, exhaustedly, "I thought you might not come". "Of course I would, Ivera! Ivera, what's wrong"? Sam felt a sticky, wetness on his hand, where he had gripped her shoulder, looking down at his own hand, he saw it was blood. Concerned, he looked at Ivera properly, murmuring, "Lumos", and in the light he saw the deep wounds Greyback had given her, the blood trails from her jaw to shoulder, the blood wiped all over the area, her completely blood-soaked shirt, and noticed that her blood now stained his shirt as well . He gasped when he saw the large, savage bite, which still bled profusely. "Ivera", he cried, "Who-What happened to your shoulder? Why are you bleeding? What happened"? Ivera sobbed, releasing him, vaguely aware of the others standing around, the air tense around them, because they knew, they knew Olivia was dead.
"S-Sam...they killed her...she's dead, they killed her"! "Who, Ivy? Who's dead, who killed who"? Ivera choked up, "M-M-Mum...Lucius Malfoy, he killed her! She-", Ivera looked behind him, and saw her mother's limp form, laying on the ground. As she did this, Sam turned, and followed her gaze, and saw what she was looking at. A small rasping sound escaped him, and he visibly froze. Slowly, on his hands and knees, he edged over to her body. He hesitantly reached out a hand, and touched his mother. "Mum"? he said in a small, frightened voice, that couldn't possibly have been his own, yet was. His face crinkled instantaneously, and he croaked, "Mum"? Tears were streaming down his face as he gently turned her over, cradling her head in his lap. Her eyes were still open, unseeing and dead, in life, the same eyes he himself possessed. Right then he saw his own eyes, how his eyes would be in death. He shook his head feebly, in denial. "No", he said shortly, "no, no, no. It's not...she's not...No". Suddenly, he roared, "No"! pounding the earth, his face reddening with rage.
Slowly, and weakly, Ivera inched over to him, and their mother's body, wincing from the pain. "Sam", she whispered in her soft lilt, gently touching his shoulder. He turned towards her, croaking feebly, "Ivy"? almost like a question. Like a small child, he leaned completely into her, resting his head on her shoulder, weeping loudly. Ivera weakly wrapped her arms around her brother's shoulders as he cried, until she felt a hand on her own arm. Ivera looked up at the tall man standing before her, with shaggy, raven-black hair, and the same deep blue-green, gold-flecked eyes she possessed, wet and raw with emotion, twin lines of tears slipping down his cheeks. He said nothing, but simply let himself fall from his proud height into a slumped kneel, embracing both of his children at once, and holding them there. Together, the three of them wept, more a family then, than they had been for quite some time.
In the background Ivera thought she could hear Mrs. Weasley and Mr. Weasley arguing, something they hardly ever did. "She needs to go to St. Mungo's straightaway"! Mrs. Weasley snapped, sharp emotion evident in her voice, a sort of hoarse sorrow, "They girl needs a healer, I'll not stand by and let her bleed to death"! Mr. Weasley solemnly replied, "I agree Molly, but please, let's just, give them a moment. They need that much". While at the same time, out of Ivera's earshot, Dumbledore and Lupin conversed with Mad-Eye-Moody. "Dumbledore", Lupin whispered gravely, "she's been bitten. Obviously Greyback was untransformed, but with the full moon less than an hour away...there's got to be some...". "Contamination, Remus", Dumbledore finished for him, gazing sadly at the mourning family. "Er, yes". Lupin replied, his pale skin, even paler with grimness, "Ivera will need to be transported to St. Mungo's immediately". "But Marcus", Dumbledore added, "would not have it. He's very touchy about the papers, rumors, and the like you know". Moody, who had been listening silently until now, cut in gruffly, "Well blast Marcus and his touchiness. Besides, it's only a simple matter of stupefying, or knocking him unconscious. Why we could use that there rock-". "Alastor", Dumbledore interrupted, that won't be necessary. Don't worry, you'll not need to incapacitate anyone present". Lupin grinned slightly as Moody sighed, "Oh, alright, if you insist". and dropped the large stone he'd been levitating behind his back.
Finally, Mrs. Weasley could stand no more, and hurriedly she walked over to Marcus, gently putting her hand on his shoulder, saying just as gently, "Marcus, we need to take her to St. Mungo's, Ivera needs a healer. We need to go now, they can help her there". He seemed to not hear her, but when she called his name again, he cut her off. "No", he said flatly, we're not going there. There's too many people, they'll ask questions, then before you know it, there'll be a picture of her, mangled, on the front page of the Daily Prophet! I'll not have it". As Ivera was about to attempt to cut in, a familiar voice did instead, " Marcus, she needs to go to St. Mungo's". Lifting her gaze, she saw Remus Lupin standing next to her father, looking down at her worriedly. Looking up, she saw Nymphadora Tonks, Arthur Weasley, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Bill Weasley, and Mad-Eye-Moody, his magical eye swiveling around wildly, before it suddenly came to rest on Ivera, or rather, her wounds. Ivera's father slowly stood up, and him aside, lowering his voice, trying to keep the conversation from within Ivera's earshot, he said, "Who knows what they did to her, Marcus, look at all the blood. If you didn't notice, that was Fenrir Greyback holding her, Marcus, if he was involved, especially if he was involved, she needs to go to St. Mungo's so they can examine her. Did you see those claw marks, the bite"? Ivera's father began to protest, when Dumbledore interrupted him, saying, "Marcus, I must agree with Remus. If Fenrir Greyback was indeed involved, then it is prudent that Ivera is checked into St. Mungo's, I fear contamination..., also, in addition to that, it is unlikely she was not subject to the Cruciatus Curse...we do not yet know what happened". "Exactly"! Ivera's father said sharply, "We don't know what happened, and until we do, I do not want her in a hospital, where there are hundreds more people to hear and gawk at her, rather than the few of us. She is my daughter, Dumbledore, and with all due respect, I believe I know what is best for her, rather than you". "Yes, Marcus, I do understand-". Lupin cut him off, "Marcus, we all care for Ivera. I am your friend, and I am a Werewolf. Greyback loves to bite and turn children, as you know, and I know very well. Tonight is the full moon, if she was infected, so close to the evening of transformation... unless you want to put Ivera through an unexpected, traumatic, and violent experience, I suggest you-". Ivera's father started to cut him off, when Ivera cried softly, "Da". Her father immediately snapped his attention to his daughter, a concerned look on his face. "I- I'm scared. I-I want to go to St. Mungo's, please, I promise, I'll tell you everything that happened, please, let me go there, please Da. I'm so scared. Just let them make sure I'm alright". He replied softly, "Darlin' I just don't think that's a good place for you to be right now, I-". He was interrupted by a hoarse, wet voice. "Da", Sam croaked, "take her, she needs help now, Da, we're wasting time! She'll bleed out as we dally here"! Marcus looked at both his children, bloody, beaten and broken, and bowed his head low. Lupin cleared his throat before speaking, "I, unfortunately, as it is the eve of the full moon, will not be able to accompany you, but I will arrive there, at St. Mungo's early tomorrow morning. I must go soon, I'm cutting it quite close as it is, but for Ivera's sake, I hope to see you there. I must go now". Lupin then Disapparated with a crack, to go somewhere isolated, somewhere he could transform without to worry of injuring or killing someone.
Mad-Eye came over to stand next to Lupin, Dumbledore, and Ivera's father, saying gruffly, "Marcus, this isn't about you. If the girl's been bitten, then she needs to go have a look at. There's potions now, that can help with the worst of it...". "Marcus"? Dumbledore questioned. "On your feet Sam", Ivera's father muttered, helping his son up, "Ivera, dear, can you walk". She tried to get to her feet, half-managing, but as soon as she shifted her weight onto her injured leg, she cried out, falling, unable to support herself, and her father caught her as she fell, some blood brushing off into his own shirt, and scooped her up, bridal style. "Hold on tight", Ivera's father whispered to her as they prepared to Disapparate. Ivera clung desperately to her desperately to her father's arms, wringing his shirt tightly in her clenched fists. As they Disapparated to St. Mungo's hospital Ivera began feeling dizzy, her vision became hazy and dark, and she heard her father calling to her, sounding as if he were miles and miles away, then, she fainted.