I.B 2
The stench of alcohol wafted under Ida Blackwood's nostrils, accompanied by the raucous sounds of idiocy and the drab, repetitive layout in front of her. The Dodgy Doxy was one of the few fortunate pubs in all of Great Britain to not have been damaged by the war, but looking at the dirt on the floor and the poorly painted walls, it still gave off the impression that it was in the midst of being rebuilt.
Ida tried not to focus too much on the scenery however, instead allowing her eyes to dart back and forth from table to table, checking to see if she had aroused the suspicion of anyone. Two or three men had given her a wink, and one had even called something over to her from his stool right next to the barman, but she paid them no mind. She instead turned her head down and peered into the glass that she was holding, her reflection looking back at her in a distorted way.
Her long blonde hair fell over her young, tender face, covering the sunken eyes that hadn't been granted sleep in more than a day. Too much preparation had went in to these next few moments; she would sleep when it was all over.
She looked up from the glass and turned her gaze away from the drunk men who had been eyeing her, instead giving her full attention to the row of small circular tables were customers were enjoying their meals and alcohol together. At one table she saw what looked like a young couple, so obviously infatuated with one another that their hands were laced together across the breadth of it. A table down from them was a group of five; three witches and two wizards, all of them young and vibrant, laughing at the smallest of comments and occasionally clinking their bottles together before drinking in unison. And just a table behind them and slightly to the left sat her target.
He was flanked by two others that she'd be forced to deal with as well. None of them were wearing their hoods, but they had the sleeves of their cloaks rolled up all the way, and Ida knew that it was to conceal the marks on their arms that, years ago, she was sure, had started to fade. They were playing cards, oily, brusque expressions stretched out on their faces. One of them had short blonde hair and steely blue eyes, another looked older, his hair a tangled mess of white on his head. And the third, sitting forward and throwing a silver Sickle into the pile in the center of the table, had bushy eyebrows and inky black hair flowing behind his back in a wavy manner. He grinned toothfully as he threw the money in, showing off his crooked, yellow teeth. Of the three of them, he was the one who came closest to directly facing her, though as it was from tables away, he took no notice of the fact her eyes were boring into him.
A memory flashed before her eyes for a single moment, and Ida saw it through the cracks of a closet door. She was cowering, a little girl hiding under a pile of clothes, and through those cracks she watched as her mother fell over, a look of horror on the face that was unmistakably lifeless, snatched away from her by a grunt of laughter and a flash of green light. And when Ida looked up, she briefly saw the visage of a man, a man who'd bothered to remove his mask and look down at his victim hungrily, a man who was now sitting at that table, smiling and enjoying a life that Ida refused to let him have.
His name, Ida knew, was Frederick Boff, and he'd managed to make his way out of Azkaban by cowardly spilling over the names of his friends. It had taken her months to track him down, to acquire this information off only a mere recollection, though admittedly, it was a clear and detailed one. She didn't know who the other Death Eaters had been that day; the ones who had tortured and killer her father a room away. But she would find them as well, and soon. But first she'd get rid of this man, and the Death Eater scum around him, the others who had all undoubtedly sold out their friends as well, or who had somehow duped Shacklebolt and Potter into thinking that they were innocent.
She removed her wand slowly from her pocket, though she kept it underneath the table for the time being. She tried to gather her thoughts and focus. Avada Kedavra,she said in her head. That was the curse, she knew, she'd heard it be used before. Avada Kedavra, she repeated, making sure that the pronunciation was exactly as it had been all the times that she'd heard others use it.
Goose bumps shot through her body, but she calmed herself down with a deep breath. She could do this. This wouldn't be so hard. She didn't need to be afraid, it was them who should be afraid, afraid of her, because she was going to kill them, show them no mercy, just as they had done to countless others. Especially Boff.
This thought comforted her, and she made to rise from the table slowly. As she did so however, she looked to her right, towards the corner of the pub. A cloaked figure was sitting there at a table, a man most likely, and all to himself, just as she had been. His hood was drawn up over his head, a half drunken glass of what looked like water in front of him. She couldn't make out his face, but in that fleeting instant, she could have sworn that she saw him shake his head back and forth, as though he was telling her not to do something, but didn't want to draw attention to himself either.
Ida turned away and swallowed, her heart pounding in her chest. She was seeing things. That man, whoever he was, had no reason to make any gesticulation towards her. She did not know him, he did not know her, and there was no way he could have known what her intentions were. She was simply letting her nerves get to her.
Starting slow but allowing her pace to quicken, she walked forward, her wand pinned to her side so as not to let passerby become aware of it. The amiable chatter going on around her masked her footsteps, but not the loud yells of Boff, who had laid out his cards with a smirk and had proceeded to pull the silver and bronze coins across the table gleefully.
"Up for another go, boys?" he said, his tone icy, and his companions all nodded and grunted, irate.
Ida approached them with determination, trying to contort her face into one of confidence, rather than fear. Once she was close enough Boff looked up at her, and his two friends turned to face her as well.
"Want one of us to buy you a drink, sweetheart?" the blonde one said, but when Ida raised her wand up at Boff's face, their expressions all changed.
"You killed my mother!" she blurted out stupidly, unable to contain herself. Say the curse you idiot! she screamed in her head, but she found that her hand was shaking. A silence had went over the entire pub, but it was only for a moment, as at the next second the three men had all risen from their seats and drawn their own wands. Boff was fastest, he raised his up lethally-
A jet of green light whizzed by Ida's head, expertly slamming Boff in the face. He flew back as people shrieked in terror, all raising from their own seats, and Ida could only stare in confusion as she watched his dead body collide with the table.
She turned stupidly to see who had fired the curse, aware that the other two would soon recover from their collective stupor, but still in desperate need to know who had done the deed. The man from the corner of the pub was now on his feet, pacing forward quickly, his wand brandished and his hood down, revealing untidy black hair and a scarred and mangled face that made her whimper softly...
The man flicked his wand casually, and all of the stools and tables began to levitate and swirl around in the air. People streaked by her as the furniture danced throughout the pub, and Ida saw that the reason that she wasn't dead yet was because the two men had been knocked aside by a table, and were now on the floor trying to hoist themselves back up.
She knew that she should prevent this, but she was too awestruck by the scene around her. The barman-an elderly fellow with wrinkled skin and a tuft of white hair-raised his wand at the disfigured man.
"Drop it!" he yelled.
But the scarred murderer only continued forward briskly, aiming his wand over his shoulder as he did so. There was a loud noise, and the next thing that Ida knew, the man had dropped his wand and fallen to the floor behind the bartop, clutching at his wrist. The men that had been jeering at her before had all evacuated the pub.
The once-hooded figure strode forward with something resembling arrogance, his gaze fixated entirely on the two men who were getting back on their feet. The young man who had been clutching his lover from across the table had pulled out his own wand, and he foolishly attempted to fire a red spell at the scarred man moving forward, who jerked his wand upwards and sent the spell flying into the ceiling. He then made another wand movement, this one a sharp prod through the air, and a stool that had been floating around behind his attacker smashed into the back of his legs, sending him face forward to the ground. His girlfriend gave a wail and sank to her knees to tend to him.
Ida had seen enough. Whoever this man was, he was now the most dangerous thing in the pub, and for that, she raised her wand at him just as he was coming towards her-
He walked by her without sparing a glance however, either oblivious to the wand in her hand or simply not intimidated by it. Her two other targets had backed up into the corner of the pub with leers on their faces, their wands raised at the man with the mangled face, which Ida saw now was only actually on one side. One of them made to fire a Killing Curse, but it was struck in mid-air by one of the still floating, round tables, which burst into flames on contact. The other man fired a dark red curse that somehow made it through the array of floating objects, but it was knocked away by a sharp wave of the scarred man's wand. He then flicked it once more, and a bottle knocked from the floor in the ruckus lunger upwards as though it had legs, smashing into the man's head and sending him down to the ground.
Ida kept her wand pointed at the man's back, though it was now shaking up and down violently. It was just he and the remaining target now, the blonde one, and he had pressed his back against the wall, his wand sliding from his fingers as though to concede defeat.
The murderer struck his wand through the air for another one, and succeeded. The streak of green hit the man and sent him to the floor, slumped up slightly and with his dead eyes wide open. Ida watched as the victor continued to stride forward however, and when he finally came to a halt, it was to aim his wand downwards at the grumbling man on the floor, whose head was bleeding badly. Another streak of green, and all three of Ida's targets had been hit.
She still had her wand pointed at the man's back, and he still hadn't turned. Instead, he crouched down curtly, and made movements towards the corpses of the two men. For a moment, Ida considered that he was a thief as well as a murderer; was rifling through their pockets for gold. When he stood up again, however, she saw that he'd only rolled up their sleeves. Muggy Dark Marks were now exposed on their flesh.
"You can lower that wand now" the man said, still not looking at her, and Ida was actually taken aback by the smoothness of his voice. He slowly turned to face her from across the now deserted pub. "Me and you both know you're not going to do anything with it" he added, a slight grin twisting on his face to make him even more repulsive.
"Don't come anywhere near me!" Ida screeched, trying to sound much more brave then she actually was.
"Are you okay?" he man asked her, and Ida, despite being taken aback by his words, didn't answer them.
"Don't come near me!" she said again, eyeing the wand in his hand with fear. She took a moment to consider the position that she was in. How had this happened? She had not been expecting anything like this...
The man sighed and rolled his eyes, and he then started to walk forward towards her.
"Stop right there!" she bellowed, but if anything he sped up, closer and closer-
She did nothing, unable to focus on anything other than the icy feeling that was coating her skin. And he walked right by her, wand raised and all, and headed for the door.
Ida gawked at him, watching as he stopped briefly only to crouch down and roll up the sleeve of Boff. And then, swiftly, he went to exit the pub.
An unnatural feeling of curiosity overwhelmed her, and before Ida could do any rational thinking, she followed along after him, pushing the door open just as it was swinging closed. She found herself in darkness, and apart from her and the man she was following, there was no one in sight; everyone had scattered following the ordeal.
"Wait!" she called out, hurrying along after him as his cloak swept across the street. He either ignored her or didn't hear her, and kept up his pace until she had literally ran after him and grabbed on to the back of his cloak. He spun around quickly, the moonlight illuminating what looked like a highly irritated expression on his face, though it was difficult to tell, considering how much of a mess half of it was.
"What do you want?" he said, making the agitation in his voice known.
"Who are you?" Ida said crisply through the night, and subconsciously, she raised her wand just slightly.
"None of your concern" he replied dryly, and he went to turn away from her.
She grabbed at his robes again though, this time practically pulling him around.
"That man you killed," she started fiercely, "you owe me an explanation for that. He was mine-"
The man gave a hoarse laugh, and Ida felt her face go red. When his laughter had died out however, he turned to look around at the numerous shops and homes that littered the village, as though displeased with himself for making noise. And then, abruptly, he grabbed her.
She made to squirm away, but there was no point. In only a few seconds he'd relinquished the hold, and it was only after he'd steered her into an abandoned alleyway. A stray cat came shooting passed them from around a pile of rubbish, but other than that, there was nothing to overhear them.
"Let's get something straight," the man started, "you weren't going to kill anyone. Those men would have torn you to shreds-"
Ida made to interject, but his next words made her shut her mouth.
"-and even if they didn't, you wouldn't have had it in you anyway."
Ida felt her mouth thin. "That's not true" she said stubbornly. "I would have. I've done it before" she lied, and the man chortled again.
"You don't need to lie to me" he said lamely. "Me and you both know what went on in that pub. This was your first time attempting anything of the sort."
Ida felt her eyes narrow. "How do you know that?" she asked sullenly, staring at the man's horrendous face with amusement.
"Because you made it so obvious" he said lightly. "You looked everywhere but over at them for the first hour, you continued to sip from an empty glass, you fidgeted whenever some came near you-"
"Okay, I get it!" Ida snapped. "But that doesn't change the fact that-"
"-that they were your men to kill?" the man said, the side of his mouth that seemed capable of movement curling upwards into a smirk.
"That's right, they were!" Ida snapped. She'd allowed the thought to elude her mind thus far, but she was now going to make her indignation known. She'd spent months tracking that man down, and this fellow had taken it upon himself to claim the prize. "What right did you have to go and kill him-"
"He was my assignment" the man replied, not sounding very perturbed at all. "As were the other two. I did what I was instructed to do; I can assure you, I did not ask for such a boring task. I had hoped to be done with it in a much simpler way, but your interference-"
"You interfered with my-"
"Do we really have to go over this again?" the man asked curtly, his dark hair falling over the sides of his head as he shook it. "You weren't going to do anything, other than die of course. If anything, you should be thankful that I just so happened to be sent here tonight."
Ida said nothing, unwilling to confess that he was speaking the truth. Something about his words were of interest to her, however. He spoke of "assignments" and being "sent". And yet, she had never seen or heard of a Ministry man doing what he had just done...
A word danced through her head. Sometimes, she would here the word "Renegade", and she knew it to mean a vigilante of sorts; a wizard or witch that didn't follow the rules and regulations of the Wizarding World. But what this man spoke of sounded organized; legitimate. Like there were others who were working alongside him...
"You went after those men because they were Death Eaters, right?" Ida asked him hesitantly, and he heaved a sigh.
"Correct" he said. "Boff was definitely a murderer, though he claimed to have been forced into it, and giving up enough names earned him his freedom. Bulstrode was a worker bee of sorts, who only really blackmailed and did menial tasks, but wore the Mark all the same. And Tendry got off free claiming to have been under the Imperius Curse, but there's plenty of information to suggest otherwise."
Ida nodded, then asked her next question. "And you're- you're not an Auror?"
The man chortled again, as if the idea was preposterous.
"No, I'm not."
"And there are more people like you?" she asked breathlessly. "Who- who find and kill Death Eaters and such-"
"How old are you?" the man cut her off abruptly.
"Twenty-five" she quickly lied, and no sooner had the words left her mouth did he ask her another question.
"How old are you really?"
Ida frowned. "I turned seventeen last week" she admitted.
The man made a noise of understanding before he spoke.
"I see" he said. "You've been after that man for a while, then."
"How did you know?" Ida asked him.
"You lost your Trace when you turned seventeen" he answered her. "And the first thing that you did was decide to use magic that couldn't be tracked down so easily. You've been waiting for a while."
Ida said nothing, and when the silence stretched on for too long, the man went to turn away again.
"Go home to your parents" he said. "It's after midnight, they'll be worried-"
"I haven't got any parents" Ida shot out, and the man stopped mid-turn. Slowly, he turned back to her, a frown stretching out on his face, which only served to ruin it further. Ida was still not used to this, and without thinking, she commented on it.
"What happened to your face?"
The man stared at her for only a fraction of a second, before he answered her in a clear, almost icy tone.
"I tried taking on three Death Eaters, back when I had no idea what I was doing."
Ida nodded, and only a second after accepting it as truth did she realize that he was mocking her. She, after all, had just tried to do just as he'd said.
A silence overtook them once more, and this time Ida felt that it was actually quite soothing. She had the strange impression that the man in front of her scarcely ever spoke to strangers, least of all about his face. It was he who broke the silence.
"What's your name?" he asked her.
"Ida" she answered at once, knowing that there was no point to lying.
"Well Ida," he started, "I'm sorry that I interfered with your business tonight. I would be astounded if such a thing ever happens again, and I can promise you, if I see you in a pub eyeing strangers, I will consider the mission compromised and move on."
He nodded curtly to her, and then turned sharply, his black hair and cloak making him look as though a shadow from behind.
"Wait!" Ida called out again, and he turned once more. "What's your name?" she asked him.
The man eyed her with interest. "Sancticus" he said after a moment.
"That's a bit strange, isn't it?" Ida said, hoping that she wasn't over stepping any boundaries. "What do your friends call you?"
"I don't have any friends," he answered automatically, but when he saw the grimace on her face, he added, "just 'San' for short, I suppose. I've been called that before."
They stood staring at one another awkwardly, and then Ida asked her most outrageous question yet.
"Can I go with you, San?" she asked timidly. "Wherever- wherever it is you're going?"
She had made up her mind the second that she'd realized that the man was a Renegade. Boff may be gone, but there were others out there, others that she wanted dead. This man, and his group of people, it seemed, could lead her to them. And what's more, he seemed to be quite capable when it came to killing these people. She could do with some lessons in that...
"You don't want this life" he said to her, shaking his head. "Believe me...it's not what you think it is."
"I have nowhere else to go!" Ida pleaded, and it was the truth. For years she'd made her way around. She'd stayed with distant family after her parents had died, but they knew nothing of her kind. She was on her own, and if she had to be with people, she'd want to be with people like her; people who had no reservations about killing those who had no right living.
The man known as Sancticus continued to stare at her, and it seemed as though he was struggling with something in his head. She wanted to speak up; to let him know that she could fend for herself and that she wouldn't be a burden in any way, but she thought it better to simply hold her silence and wait-
He struck his wand through the air swiftly, and Ida flinched. When she'd opened her eyes, however, she saw that he'd only created something silver; a small, shimmery bird. It flittered around him and landed on his shoulder, though it didn't appear to be solid. She watched as he spoke to it.
"Send message to Zydrunas" he said coyly. "All three killed. Some damage to the area and a few civilian injuries; shouldn't cost too much."
He paused there briefly, and Ida watched as he continued to gaze at her. After a moment, he added something softly.
"Also, inform Warren that I'm brining someone along. He'll want to speak with her."
Ida allowed the smallest of smiles to form on her face, but as the bird flew off into the starry night, she saw that the scarred man known as Sancticus was not smiling back.
