Under the Emerald Sky

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and its related copyrighted works belong to their rightful owners. All original characters belong to me.


Respect. Recognition. Trust. Marlene would've gladly thrown aside whatever silly acknowledgement that came with being a McKinnon for a chance for her family to rise and breathe again, for them to continue their existence in a time of terror and mayhem with whatever hope and happiness they had left instead of being reduced to the lifeless masses of cold flesh and coagulated blood now sprawled out within the two-story house.

But here she was alone, bleeding, sweating, and facing the looming figures of six Death Eaters. She was sure that under their hoods, they were smiling at her vulnerability and unmistakable panic.

Marlene breathed in quick, pained gasps, wand clenched tightly in her bruised and blood-specked hands. The Death Eaters closed in around her, and she could hear a faint, menacing chuckle as one of them raised their wand.

"Stupefy!"

The jet of red light narrowly missed her as she threw herself on the floor, curling into a rapid roll as another Stunner struck ominously near her shoulder, sending up a flurry of jagged floorboard pieces.

"Impedimenta!" Marlene shouted hoarsely as she recovered, pointing her wand at the nearest Death Eater. He flew hard into his comrade, and Marlene managed to stun him before ducking low to avoid another barrage of spells. She leaped over the staircase banister, more streaks of dazzling light smashing the polished mahogany and photographs hanging on the wall as her footsteps thundered up the stairs. She turned the corner and out of sight, evoking shameless profanity from the pursuers below. Marlene clamped her hand over her mouth to control her harsh breathing, listening carefully as the Death Eaters clambered up the steps after her.

She flew into sight again, shooting down a well-aimed Stunner into the Death Eater leading the pack up the stairs. With a loud yell, he tumbled down the steps as Marlene stunned the two that had managed to jump out of the way. The burly body of the Death Eater slammed into a third near the bottom of the stairs, pinning him to the floor with a sickening thump. A tiny flicker of faith rose up inside of the desperate witch as she tore down the hallway. She ran into an empty bedroom, not caring about which deceased occupant of the house it had belonged to. She performed another graceful leap over the width of the neatly made bed and crouched down on the floor, only to quickly stifle the scream that nearly ripped out of her throat.

On the cerulean carpet next to her was the motionless body of her brother-in-law.

Marlene had not seen him die, but the shout of "Avada Kedavra!" and the screams of his children traveling so piercingly upstairs had proved the inevitable.

The screams. If she lived through this ordeal by an impossible stroke of fate, she would never forget the screams, nor would she forget how they ended with each spoken incantation of the killing curse.

Marlene felt a guilty and sick sense of relief at Samuel's facedown form; she did not want to see the kind of terror frozen on his face the moment the jet of green light had hit him. She had seen it among wizards and Muggles alike, far too many times.

Stemming the flow of tears with one tattered sleeve, Marlene bit back her lip to prevent any more noise from escaping her mouth. Every aspect of reality was unraveling around her, and what she had thought was made impossible by layers of protective charms was now staring her in the face.

It had been a balmy night. The children were already in bed, their parents, grandparents, and only aunt off in separate corners of the house. Marlene had been washing her hands in the bathroom sink when she looked up in the mirror to see a figure standing in the doorway, and the deep shatter of glass as she jumped out of the spell's path was what marked the first of many destructive acts that would go on that evening.

It was now half past 12, and the charm that was supposed to alert Order members in case the other protective charms failed had clearly been broken as well. Whatever glimmer of hope that Marlene had felt during her small triumph at the stairs was now thoroughly extinguished.

"Madam McKinnon…won't you come out and greet us like a proper hostess?" a soft, drawling voice came from the doorway.

Marlene sputtered "Protego," just in time as the man blasted the bed apart with the Reductor Curse. The flying mess of linen, mattress stuffing, and wood bounced harmlessly off the magical barrier, and Marlene pleaded silently that Samuel's corpse was not desecrated in the process. She sprang forth angrily at the thought, thrusting her wand out and shouting, "Petrificus Totalus!"

The Death Eater dropped stiffly with a dull thump, but Marlene's success was short-lived as two more men suddenly burst forth into the bedroom.

"Crucio!"

Marlene crumpled to the floor, the scream that had been bubbling up inside of her all night finally erupting from her mouth. The intolerable spasms of raw pain began anew as the curse was viciously performed again, rhythmic intervals of searing madness clouding all of her senses. She could no longer hear the repeated incantations, barely acknowledging the fact that she was being dragged down the length of the hallway by the collar of her robes. The Death Eater stopped, pulled her to her feet, and flung her over the side banister.

She hit a wooden table with a resounding crash, the wood giving way instantly. Dark blood seeped everywhere, but Marlene was still lost in the excruciating ripples of the Cruciatus Curse. Her head lolled to the side, coming face-to-face with a photograph she had come to love. The frame was turned over on its side and the glass was smashed, but Marlene's half-closed hazel eyes could still make out the tiny, waving figures. Her swollen, split lips curled in a slight smile as she focused in on a brooding, dark-haired man with an electric-blue glass eye.

Alastor, she mouthed wordlessly. Even in her completely immobilized state, Marlene could never forget. She was one of the few who knew Alastor Moody for the man he really was, before his Auror days of countless wounds, sleepless nights, lost comrades, and finally, outright paranoia. Beneath the rough, severely carved face once existed a ruggedly handsome boy with a knack for Defense Against the Dark Arts, but having the revered integrity to never abuse his knowledge. As Marlene McKinnon lay broken, she silently wept for the future that would be tragically marred by the present.

"Get up," a Death Eater growled, all five of his accomplices fully revived and forming a semicircle around the fallen witch.

The melody of their pitiless laughter echoed in her ears, bringing forth the strength and determination of which she was sure she had lost at one point. She would not die helplessly like a beaten dog; it would be a terrible insult to those she swore to defend.

No trace of emotion marked her face as she stood up, brushing off fragments of wood and dust. Her legs quivered with pain and exhaustion under her bloodstained robes, but Marlene straightened up as best as she could and looked directly into the menacing eyes behind the slits of each Death Eater's mask. Alastor would have been proud of her.

"Complying with the Dark Lord would not have resulted in this, McKinnon," one of the men hissed. "Now you must pay the price for your insolence, as have the rest of your blood-traitor family."

Marlene did not respond. Instead, her deep gaze traveled around the demolished room, taking note of the broken furniture, various burn marks, and violently blasted holes. A bookcase lay toppled in a corner, a pale hand protruding from underneath the smashed wood. A gold wedding band twinkled eerily under the enchanted lights and Marlene turned away instantly, not wanting to see any more of what had befallen upon her younger sister.

"Nothing to say, hmm?" another Death Eater sneered. Marlene recognized him as the former victim of her Body-Bind Curse.

She did not want to say anything to them. She simply wanted to let loose a torrent of the killing curse upon their own family members, making them realize the nauseating horror that would twist in their stomachs at the sight of the fear etched perfectly on the faces of their loved ones; to steal their parents, siblings, and children away from a physical plane and making sure they felt every bit of the 'Crucio' that would rise up from her throat. Because of their repulsive existence, there would be no more laugh lines crinkling upon her parents' face, no more friendly bickering exchanged between Margaret and Samuel, and there would be no Hogwarts acceptance letters for Ralph, Charlotte, and Isabel.

Then again, how did the desire to tear them from limb to limb make her any better than them?

Alastor had been one of the few that ignored Bartemius Crouch Sr.'s permission to use the Unforgivables on Dark wizards, refusing to stoop to their level. Marlene now longed for his presence, for him to save her from an imminent death and give her another chance to avenge her family and start her own with him; for a chance for both of them to finish what had started as mutual respect.

"Rendered mute or not, there is no mercy for those that oppose the Dark Lord. Good-bye, McKinnon."

And if no one could give her another chance, she would at least fight to the death for it, alone. She would not become another mere number added to the list of the victims claimed by the dreaded killing curse; another grisly statistic to be displayed among the wizard world.

"Avada Ke-"

Marlene screamed, putting all of her weight forward as she slammed shoulder-first into the surprised Death Eater. They came to a hard crash on the floor, various spells whizzing above their heads. "Accio wand!" she called out, rebounding back on her feet and catching the narrow strip of willow as it flew out of the wreckage of the desk.

But for Marlene McKinnon, it was a moment too late.

Five beams of green light rushed at her, one whizzing past her shoulder, one passing by her waist, but three making their mark on her chest and torso. A hauntingly beautiful aura of bright green enveloped her for a moment before she dropped limply to the ground. Her wand rolled off her outstretched fingertips, and lay uselessly at her side.

"Well, now that that's over and done with," a Death Eater murmured haughtily, as if speaking of common household chores. The rest shared a hearty chortle and straightened up their masks and robes, stepping casually over the cooling body of the witch as they left the room. The warm night air rushed in as the front door was blasted aside, ruffling their robes as they stepped out.

A curt cry of "Morsmordre!" sent up vivid sparks of emerald green into the air, forming the snake-tongued skull that the wizarding world knew too well. The Dark Mark hovered over the McKinnon house with a sinister glow, a brazen seal on the tragic chain of events that had befallen upon its residents.

The caster of the spell pointed his wand at the house once more. "Reduc-"

"Manners, Dolohov," his comrade interrupted softly, "leave the house be; it would be rude to deny others of the masterpiece we have created inside. Now, Let us depart."

With that, the six masked figures Apparated out of sight.

The clock continued to tick by and Marlene McKinnon lay on the carpet, 33 years of her life soon to be a distant memory to those who knew her. One of the few exceptions would be Alastor Moody. From the moment of their first conversation at Hogwarts to the sight of her mournful face staring up blankly at him from her living room floor, Moody would never forget.