The abbey walls trembled with the sheer force of the blasts tearing through the air, the ground shaking right beneath her as she scrambled to her feet. Octavia heard him, calling out to her, over the madness ensuing in the abbey. He called out repeatedly, his booming voice almost unascertainable through the blasts and bangs resounded through the abbey.
"OCTAVIA!"
Snatching the prophecies from the floor, Octavia stuffed them back onto the cabinet, knowing that they were safe there. Even if an enemy happened across them, they were only retrievable by the blood of a non-defected Order member. It even prevented them from using an Order member to retrieve it on their behalf, for the enchantments would sense such disloyalty in favour of survival, and deny access. Octavia believed, if memory served, that the enchantments would kill the betrayer.
"OCTAVIA!"
Fuck. His voice was much closer now. Not too close, but nearer than before.
Diving into panic mode, Octavia turned on her heels and sprinted out of the parlour room, careful to quietly shut the door behind her. She couldn't risk any sounds coming from her vicinity, as it could cause her to be found.
Her bare feet felt numb as she scurried over the frosty floor, venturing to the bedroom she shared with Pansy. The brunette wouldn't be in the bedroom, Octavia knew, for she had been packing supplies secretly in the kitchen. But Pansy wasn't the reason for Octavia's retreat to the bedroom. She needed to retrieve her diary, lest she was captured. It sounded silly, but the diary could be very valuable to her if she was abducted.
Screams pierced through her pounding eardrums, battling with the loud beating of her clenching heart to be heard. The walls trembled and shook, the ground quivering beneath her, fragments of rock and dust raining down from the wobbling roof. It took her back to another time, at Hogwarts. The same destruction and chaos erupting around her, and she hoped that it had the same end result, for her at least; to escape. Preferably with Pansy and Hermione. The others were expendable to her, as much as she hated to admit it. But when it came down to life or death, Octavia would have sacrificed anyone and everyone to save those she loved most.
Ignoring the wretchedness within her, Octavia scurried through the upper level of the abandoned cathedral, her palm flat against the rough walls to balance herself as she moved. The screams and shouted hexes reverberated through the stone construction, but seemed to be coming from the lower levels. Thankfully, that allowed Octavia time to do what she needed to do.
Reaching the rusted spiral staircase, Octavia grabbed onto the railings and unevenly climbed up the steps. The metal structure shook violently from the explosions in the abbey, threatening to crumble from its assault, but she climbed until she reached the top, not allowing her fear to consume her entirely. She had a mission. That was it. A mission.
The thought allowed her to concentrate somewhat, permitting a semi-strategic mind frame to settle on her. It wasn't much, but the sliver of calmness that the mindset provided her with assisted her in her task to retrieve the diary.
Racing through the hallway, the clanging of the spiral staircase rung out, causing Octavia to pray to the Gods that it wouldn't crash to the ground, leaving her trapped in the top level, just waiting to be caught and captured. She shoved through the door manically, sprinting over to the dresser that contained her minimal amount of possessions. Ripping out the top drawer violently, Octavia stumbled back as it crashed onto the ground, almost landing on her toes. Toes. That reminded her.
Forgetting the drawer, Octavia scurried over to the bunkbeds, throwing herself onto the ground. She reached under the bed with grunts as she stretched, hooking her fingers around the laces of her boots. Successfully latching onto the much-needed footwear, Octavia yanked them out from beneath the bed and hurriedly pulled them onto her feet, forgetting all about socks. There was no time for socks.
Pulling at the laces to ensure a secure fit, Octavia looped them around each other, fastening them tightly. Once her boots were on, she snatched her bag from the ground and half-ran half-crawled over to the drawer on the floor.
Straight feathery hair obscured her vision frequently, Octavia impatiently whacking it out of the way as she unzipped her bag. The diary was the first item she stuffed into the worn and torn leather backpack, clothes and jackets quickly following. Once she had packed all of her meagre belongings, Octavia swung the bag strap over her shoulder and scrambled to her feet.
Inhaling and exhaling deeply, she attempted to soothe the rampant adrenaline surging through her veins, poorly calming herself, almost dizzy from the sheer fright that consumed her. Swallowing thickly, she hesitantly retrieved the final item in her possession from the nightstand before running to the open door. A gun.
It was an item that she had pinched from a muggle cottage a few years back, but she had never used it. Of course, she had her wand, but the firearm had its advantages. Gripping onto it tightly, she took solace in the knowledge that the gun had a full clip of bullets within it, but she prayed to Merlin that she needn't use them.
Exhaling one final steadying breath with a whoosh, Octavia ignored the dread pooled in the pits of her tummy, forgetting all about the tears that still fell freely down her anguished face, and bolted through the door. It took her mere seconds to reach the rickety staircase shaking so violently that one would think it was being directly attacked, rather than vibrating from the ripple effect of explosions nearby.
Scrambling down the stairs, she gripped the gun with one shaky hand, the other hand grazing over the barrier to prevent herself from falling. Her boots clanged against the rusted metal, stomping loudly through the upper level of the old building. But she didn't care; now that she had retrieved her belongings, her focus was fixed on reaching Pansy and Hermione. Unfortunately, to do that she had to venture down into the bedlam.
She saw the battle before he even reached the long staircase that led to it. Stray hexes flew up and connected with the stone roof above her, threatening to bring it down and destroy everyone. Hazel eyes wide with horror gazed up at the dust-raining roof as she gripped tightly onto the bannister of the central staircase, leading from the third level, past the second, and to the ground floor. She gripped firmly, watching the roof carefully as though it would fall upon her at any given moment.
Hurriedly, Octavia scrambled down the broken steps, turning her gaze to the smoky blur of chaos on the ground as she reached halfway. Her heart deadbolted to the bit of her tummy at what she saw, halting to a stop at the second floor on the staircase. Countless Death Eaters, some cloaked, others revealed, swarmed the foyer, outnumbering the Order members three to one.
Not wishing to declare her arrival, Octavia remained perfectly motionless halfway up the decaying staircase, hazel eyes darting around the misty foyer. Frantically, her gaze searched for any signs of a bushy mane or sleek silky brown hair amidst the chaos. As she scanned the area, she noticed that Draco was nowhere in sight, but he was likely hunting around the abbey for her, probably only just missing her as she slinked around like the sneaky snake she was. But she quickly noticed someone equally as treacherous as the one who hunted her.
Blaise Zabini lashed his wand through the air, no jets of light shooting out, but whatever spell he had performed was undoubtedly a ghastly one. Octavia's face scrunched up in absolute horror as the throat of Molly Weasley sliced open, blood spurting out and pooling at the already blood-covered floor. Before Octavia could even allow the brewing scream inside of her to erupt, Blaise's black eyes snapped up to where she stood as though he had sensed her presence.
Blood spattered over his flawlessly tanned skin, white teeth almost glowing as he flashed her an incredibly wide grin, shooting surges of horror through her. Panicked and close to vomiting, Octavia turned to scramble up the staircase, but didn't get the chance, for another Death Eater stood at the very top of the stairs, on the third floor, smirking down at her.
Silver eyes glowed brilliantly, piercing through the thick smog of the battle, fixed intently on only her. His wounds were completely healed, his attire pristine and crisp, blood coating his otherwise pale hands. She was trapped.
Repeatedly, her face whipped up to Draco before snapping back down to Blaise who approached, making his way through the chaos around him effortlessly, slowly, almost predatorily. She had three choices. Use the gun on one of the two men she loved dearly; use her wand on one of the two men she loved dearly; allow them to snatch her away from those she fought with.
It was then that she realised, no matter how much hatred she harboured for Blaise and Draco, she could never hurt them; she could never kill them with fire, nor blast them with the gun in her hand. She just didn't have it in her. They weren't random, faceless enemies; they were people she had been so close to once upon a time, and if she killed them, she would die along with them in her soul and spirit.
Suddenly, another option struck her, and she didn't hesitate in taking it, not sparing a moment to process the risks. Looping the other strap of her backpack over her shoulder, thereby securing the bag, Octavia bent and stuck the firearm into her boot as Draco descended the stairs, nearing her quickly, Blaise quickening his pace toward her. But they didn't know that she could escape; they didn't know how desperate she really was, especially when faced with the surrounding horrors.
"Octavia!" Draco bellowed as she grabbed onto the bannister and swung her legs over clumsily.
Perched on the barrier, Octavia spared not a single glance at the now-sprinting Draco and Blaise, approaching her hurriedly. But they were too late. Octavia propelled herself off the barrier, falling through the smoggy air, four or five metres to the ground. It didn't sound like much, but as she was falling, fears of breaking her legs from the harsh impact that awaited her swarmed in her mind maddeningly. Shrieks ripped through her throat as she fell, but she wasn't even sure if they were coming from her or not, only hearing the shouts of Draco and Blaise, their voices sounding panicked. Perhaps concerned.
The thought was jolted from her brain as she landed, a blood-curling scream of agony tearing through the fog, a crunching and snapping of bones raking through the air.
Octavia landed in a heap on the ground, her left ankle completely shattered from the force of the collision. She had tried to land on her feet, thinking it was the best option, but wasn't so sure now that her body felt alight with absolute blinding pain. Blood seeped out of her palms and elbows, but she had no idea how she had obtained those injuries. Probably when she had landed, but the overwhelming agony in her ankle had washed out all other sensations, her sole focus on the crippling pain of her shattered broken bones.
Two loud thuds echoed out through the chaos, seemingly coming from either side of her crouched over body, but she couldn't be sure. She couldn't see anything through the tears that streamed out of her eyes, blurring her vision in the already foggy foyer.
"Are you fucking out of your mind?" Blaise's furious voice snapped, evidently having landed right by her body. "You could have died, Tavs!"
A vice-like grip shot sharp pains through her arm as Draco grabbed her roughly, hauling her up to her feet. Well, one foot was raised off the ground, and she generally hopped on the uninjured one.
"Let me go!" Octavia shrieked, pulling violently against his grip. "Let go of me! PANSY! HERMIONE! PAN –GET OFF OF ME, YOU FUCKING MONSTER!"
"Octavia!" Pansy's panicked voice ripped through the air. "Octavia, where are you?!"
"I'll get her," Blaise declared, disappearing into the fog as Octavia continued to struggle against Draco.
"GET OFF, GET OFF, GET OFF!" Octavia wailed, clawing at his hand that held onto her securely.
"Octavia!" Draco barked, pulling her back against his chest, her feet dangling above the ground as he wrapped both arms around her. "Octavia, stop! You're only hurting yourself, enough!"
"G-et of-ff!" Octavia blubbered, sobs washing over her as her body shook violently. "Le-le-t me go-o!"
"Shh," Draco hushed softly, the girl failing wildly in his unrelenting hold. "I've got you; you're safe, Octavia. It's ok."
"PANSY!" Octavia shrieked, sobbing like a toddler, her face scrunched up in total anguish. "PANSY RU-UN!"
"OCTAV- oomph." Pansy's screaming voice was suddenly silenced, followed a by close thud and crunch.
Octavia couldn't see through the fog, but could have sworn that the sound had been little more than a metre away. Continuing to scrape, scratch and now bite at Draco's solid arms, Octavia kept fighting and struggling, praying to Merlin for a miracle. But none came. She struggled in his tight embrace, biting through his skin, tasting his metallic blood as she thrashed madly. He didn't even flinch.
Draco nuzzled his face into the nook of her neck, as though enjoying a tender embrace with his love, instead of holding onto a wildly thrashing and screeching captive. Every time she kicked her legs out at nothing, sharp blinding jolts of pain surged up her body from the movements of her broken ankle, but she kept on fighting, flailing in his tight hold.
Suddenly, a thought struck her, and she almost screamed at her own stupidity. Bringing her knees up to her chest – a difficult task, for she was hardly 'fit', and already thoroughly exhausted – her torso cramped at the use of muscles, but she gritted her teeth and pushed through it. Her fingers felt around the rim of her left boot, searching for the gun she had tucked inside, only barely able to move in Draco's tight embrace.
The soft tender kisses he planted on the smooth skin of her neck told her that he was far too preoccupied with the feel of her in his arms to notice her abrupt calmness. He was so lost in the feel of her in his arms for the first time in three years that he didn't realise that she fumbled around for the firearm in her boot.
Successfully locating the handle of the gun, Octavia strained to reach further down, clasping her fingers around the handgrip. Tears of horror continued to stream down her anguished face as she discreetly slipped the firearm out of the boot, clutching onto it tightly. She transferred it to her right hand, switched off the safety before twisting her arm around her chest and pressing the barrel to Draco's shoulder.
Before he even had a second to realise what was happening, Octavia's finger pulled the trigger, a booming explosion erupting right at her ear, replaced immediately by a painful sting and a ringing noise. Arms loosened and Draco stumbled back, probably shouting from the pain and shock, but she couldn't hear anything over the thumping of her eardrum and the incessant ringing noise.
Octavia crumbled to the floor in a heap, her mind blank and fuzzy, her vision unclear, her body in shock from the gunshot sound that deafened her. The gun was no longer in her hand, but she barely noticed, only somewhat able to hold onto the sliver of reality in her dazed state.
Chocolate dark skin appeared in her vision, Octavia fleetingly feeling as though she was being hauled over somebody's shoulder. Her body jolted and bounced as whoever carried her ran through the battle, escaping the abbey as Death Eaters swarmed them.
Her hooded eyes were met only with a pair of jeans and a belt, telling her that whoever's shoulder she was slung over was an Order member. A Death Eater wouldn't be caught dead in muggle attire such as jeans.
Groaning as she gradually slipped back into reality, Octavia craned her neck to observe her surroundings, grunting as the man who carried her ran out of the abbey and through the gardens. Fleeing Order members surrounded her, bile creeping up in her throat as she saw the dead body of Allister Moody on the grass. Scattered Order members fought, trying to flee and reach the edge of the wards to apparate. That's where her saviour must be taking her, she fleetingly realised.
A wave of relief washed over her as Hermione ran close behind them, Ron and Arthur Weasley flanking the bushy-haired muggle-born. They duelled with several Death Eaters, but Octavia realised that none of the returned hexes were aimed at Hermione. It thankfully allowed her cousin to catch up to them, the expression of relief etched onto her features upon seeing Octavia hauled over Lee Jordan's shoulder.
Octavia's relief, however, was short-lived, for she gazed frantically around the gardens, unable to see Pansy anywhere. Nor Blaise. Meaning, it was very likely that Blaise had captured the brunette.
Draco caught her attention instantly as he appeared in the blasted and demolished doorway of the abbey. His molten silver gaze connected with hers straightaway, blood oozing out the shoulder she had shot with the lost gun. From his murderous expression, she could tell that he was simply beyond furious, but he was far away, so she had a chance of escaping. Still, her spine tingled and shivered with fear at his heated gaze, tears streaming down her face as he abruptly sprinted toward her.
"Apparate!" Octavia screeched at Lee as they ran, her voice almost lost in the sounds of hexes and screams ripping through the night air. "Apparate now!"
"Where?" Lee shouted, sprinting over the ward threshold.
He didn't apparate right away, and instead, turned and waited for Hermione to reach them, Ron and Arthur firing hexes over their shoulders as they protected the muggle-born.
"The emergency meet-point!" Hermione screeched, as though she had heard their conversation, but frankly, that was impossible. "Go! Go now!"
Octavia suddenly felt the familiar awful sensation of apparation, pulled through space, stretched and yanked like taffy. But the relief of a successful escape didn't come to her. Only dread and horror filled her as she was wrenched through space.
For the last thing she saw was Lucius Malfoy grab onto Arthur Weasley's robes right before the red-head apparated, thereby bringing the Death Eater to their emergency location.
Not good.
An unladylike grunt escaped her lips as Lee landed on the cobblestone ground of Broad Street in Stirling, Scotland, her body jolting from the impact. One by one, other members cracked into the street void of muggles due to the late hour. But nobody had a moment to relax, for Octavia screamed out as she shimmied off Lee's shoulders.
"They're coming!" Octavia screamed instantly. "EVERYONE HIDE!"
Wands immediately whipped, flicked and soared through the air, all Order members casting a variety of charms, some disapparating, others concealed. A disillusionment charm washed over Octavia, courtesy of Lee, before his arm extended and shoved her back against the window of a shop, both remaining utterly still.
Several scattered cracks tore through the still air, alerting all concealed Order members that more had arrived. Some newly arrived Order members, however, had Death Eaters attached to them, either gripping directly onto their limbs, or clutching onto fistfuls of their robes. Attached to a panicked-looking Arthur Weasley was the father of the devil in Octavia's nightmares and realities. But he wasn't truly Draco's father, was he? No. Draco's father was much worse than Lucius Malfoy.
The other Death Eaters that had side-along apparated restrained and disarmed their respective Order members, but didn't kill them. Perhaps for leverage. Perhaps to preserve magical blood that could be deemed worthy. Octavia truly wasn't sure.
Lucius whirled his wand above him, wards shooting up into the sky, bubbling around the area instantly. A few of the other Death Eaters made to follow suit, but he prevented them from doing so.
"See to the prisoners!" Lucius barked authoritatively. "We must allow other Order members to apparate into the street, but we cannot permit them to leave!"
Colours shot up into the sky as he cast wards, trapping the hidden survivors in the street, preventing them from disapparating. They should have done that to begin with like some of the others, but foolishly, they hadn't. An attempt to stick together could very well be the end of their entire organisation.
Abruptly, Lucius slashed his wand at Arthur Weasley's back, killing the red-headed man instantly. Octavia's hands shot to her mouth, stifling the sob that couldn't be resisted at the sight. Her eyes scrunched shut, poorly preventing tears from rolling down her cheeks, her entire body camouflaged by the disillusionment charm, blending her in to the window she pressed herself against.
Slowly, she opened her eyes, blinking a few times to clear away the blur of the tears. Her face scrunched up in horror as Lucius whipped his wand again, a silvery cobra slithering out of the tip, soaring off into the night sky before disappearing completely. She suspected that he was alerting Draco to their whereabouts with his patronus, thereby luring the devil himself back into her vicinity.
As it had all happened so quickly, Octavia couldn't recall which Order members had apparated safely into the muggle street, so she didn't know who had disapparated, or who was concealed by enchantments around her. She just hoped and prayed to every God in existence that Hermione had disapparated out of the street and to safety. Though she also knew that it was very unlikely, for Hermione would not leave Octavia stranded there with the Death Eaters.
Order members that had arrived too late, or with the Death Eaters, knelt on the cobblestone ground of the road, now bound by rough ropes or stiff due to being petrified. Sirius, Remus, Lavender and Dean were just few of the many on the road, unable to speak, move, or issue any spells in their defence.
Ear-shattering cracks ripped through the sky as more Death Eaters arrived, landing on the cobblestone street perfectly. Many were clad in their masks and cloaks, concealing their identities, but one remained in a white shirt and black slacks, his pale handsome face identifiable to all. While Draco's expression was perfectly stoic, his molten silver eyes burned with rage, betraying his inner fury. He looked practically murderous, much to Octavia's horror. She had never seen him so furious in her life; his jaw was clenched tightly, his silver eyes ablaze with vengeful wrath, his tense body radiating bloodthirst.
In that moment Octavia truly understood the universal fear that Draco struck through the wizarding population. And, for once, Octavia shared that fear wholeheartedly.
With her heart racing wildly in her chest, Octavia attempted to steady her harsh breathing, hands still clasped over her parted lips to muffle the sounds. Draco's glowing gaze darted around the seemingly vacant street, presumably searching for Octavia. Draco rolled up his left sleeve, waving his hand over the scarred skin of his inner forearm, a black blur appearing out of nowhere. Octavia couldn't make out the black blur, only understanding that it was a previously concealed tattoo of sorts. Fleetingly, she recalled tales of the Dark Mark in History of Magic back at Hogwarts.
Draco pressed his finger to the tattoo, his gaze not on his actions but still raking up and down the street as though he would spot Octavia at any given moment. But she had no intentions of being found by the man before her; the man who was a stranger.
Slowly, Octavia moved her hands from her mouth to the window behind her, placing her palms flat against the cool glass. Her back pressed against the glass as she hopped to the side, her movements careful and deliberate. As she was merely charmed with the disillusionment spell, any sudden movements would cause a blur to appear where she stood. So she ensured that she employed slow and cautious movements, despite the overwhelming urge to bolt in the opposite direction. The downside was that, as her ankle was broken, she could only jump on one foot, and it was relatively difficult to do that quietly.
One by one, a terrifying amount of Death Eaters arrived, sending ripples of cracks through the air, disturbing the safety of the emergency meet-point. There were too many Death Eaters in the street for the Order to fight; far more than there had been at the abbey. Most Death Eaters that convened in the centre of the road were clad in pristine robes, indicating that they had not participated in the battle of the abbey, and had been summoned moments ago.
Blaise was nowhere to be seen in the army that now swarmed the street, and it pained Octavia to suspect that he had been successful in capturing Pansy back at the abbey. In fact, she didn't just suspect; she knew it in her gut. That awful churning sensation that caused bouts of anxiety to dance through her frayed nerves and nausea to creep up her throat.
Another hop to the side, her back and palms pressed against the window, Octavia tried to slowly creep away from the army in front of her. She watched with horror filled eyes as they convened, whispering in small groups, some guarding the restrained Order members, others disappearing into alleys in search of hiding enemies. Again, she bounced to the side, a little bit further away from the threat, assuming that the other concealed Order members would be doing the same; escaping ever so slowly and cautiously.
Another leap, and Octavia froze. Draco's gaze shot to the window she stood at, his aim off point by a metre, boring right into the centre of the glass. Was he looking at Lee? Did she move too fast and cause a blur? Did he know she was there?
Stretching her fingers out slowly, Octavia attempted to feel through the air, trying to find Lee with her touch. She couldn't feel him; not his skin or limbs or robes. Perhaps he was still in their original position, or he may have slipped away. She didn't know and couldn't afford to find out.
As Draco kept his burning eyes fixed on the window, he slipped out his wand from his trouser pocket, Octavia chancing another side-leap, slinking away cautiously. He didn't notice her or her movements, his gaze still focused on the spot she crept away from. As he placed his wand flat on the palm of his outstretched hand, Octavia risked another hop, fearing the curious magic he was evidently about to perform.
Draco's lips moved, speaking silently to his wand, his words unheard over the distance between them. Suddenly, his wand began to whizz, spinning on his palm, never falling off, whirling in perfect circles. As his gaze finally tore away from the window, resting on his wand instead, Octavia took a few more jumps to the side, pushing away from the glass as she reached a large blue dumpster.
Wasting not a moment, she dropped to her knees and crawled around the garbage bin as his wand came to an abrupt stop, pointing directly at her. Hazel eyes widened in horror, freezing her in place for only a moment as Draco's gaze slowly looked up from the wand, fixing on the very spot she was crouched in. Fear and panic consumed her entirely as she continued to crawl around the dumpster, glancing over her shoulder at Draco, horrified that the wand followed her every move.
Slipping out her wand from the elastic waist of her leggings, Octavia gripped onto it tightly, turning around and rising to one foot, facing Draco fully. His gaze bore right into her, shining with fury and triumph, but he couldn't see her. His wand somehow revealed her location, but the disillusionment charm remained in place.
Lucius and a woman with wild black hair and a manic glint in her eyes stepped up to Draco, silver fixed on the imperceptible Octavia. His pink lips moved barely, issuing orders to the two subordinates, the crazy black-haired woman lighting up as Draco spoke. The madwoman gazed up at Draco as he spoke, adoration, pride and love shining from her perceptibly, Octavia unable to resist the twinge of jealousy inside of her.
She ignored the jealousy. For if she were to acknowledge it, total self-disgust would quickly follow. It surely wasn't normal to feel petty emotions such as jealousy when the man you loved was hunting you like prey. It was all very fucked up.
Lucius and the madwoman nodded after a moment, Draco's eyes never leaving Octavia's position. Hazel eyes filled with horror and trepidation watched as the two Death Eaters delivered orders to the others, all speaking in whispers before slowly dispersing around the street. Octavia was panicking for sure.
If she remained still, Draco could attack at any given moment, but if she ran (or hopped away), she had no doubt that it would provoke absolute chaos. The wand evidently followed her movements, so Draco would follow her, and it may cause others to reveal themselves, namely Hermione. If Hermione revealed herself to defend Octavia, Ron would, and it would be a chain effect potentially causing a massacre. So Octavia truly had no fucking clue what to do. A part of her wondered if she should turn herself over. If she did, perhaps the others could remain hidden and escape. But then again, Hermione would never allow it, and that faced Octavia with the same predicament of consequences as the alternative option.
Running. It was the best option, she decided. For if it ensued absolute mayhem, at least a few may be able to escape again.
Before she managed to even take another step, the Death Eaters aimed their wands at random places around the street, in alleyways, in doorways of shops, at stone walls, everywhere. Draco's wand, she realised, had followed suit, pointed right at her, his stormy eyes burning a hole into her.
"Finite Incantatem!" A unison of shouts rumbled through the air, yellow jets of light soaring all over the place.
Draco's counter-charm hit Octavia square in the chest, not causing her any pain, but dissolving the disillusionment charm from head to toe. Anguished hazel eyes met molten silver as Octavia's horrified features were revealed, dishevelled straight hair framing her face. Her injured foot was raised off the ground, her knee bent, one hand clutching onto the side of the dumpster for balance, the other aiming her wand at Draco. There was no option for her anymore. She had to use her wand against him; the only magic she could produce would have to be used. Especially since Order members were revealed all over the street, every single one of them taking a duelling stance. Less than before, though, indicating that some had managed to escape since the Death Eaters had arrived.
That's when it happened. That's when Octavia's predication materialised around her; all hell broke loose.
Tears welled up in her pained eyes as jets of light soared threw the hair, the battle recommencing with the taste of desperation in the air from both sides. Draco tucked his wand back into his trouser pocket, seemingly unfazed about Octavia aiming her own wand directly at him. He stepped toward her predatorily, the blazing anger in his eyes not dimming in the slightest.
Limping back against the dumpster, Octavia's face scrunched up in absolute anguish as her wand shook in her trembling hand. Her plump lips glistened with the tears she shed, salting her tongue and soul at the same time.
"Don't," Octavia whined, her wand shaking violently as she hopped backwards. "Draco, don't, please!"
He faltered for a moment in his step, but quickly dismissed her pleas, continuing to advance on her. She knew that she'd have to use the only magic she could against him, but the thought shredded her heart to pieces, unwilling to kill the only man she had ever loved.
"Draco," Octavia whined pitifully, hobbling away as he approached with determination. "Stay back! Don't come any closer! You stay away from me!"
Octavia wasn't even sure that he could hear her hoarse pleas over the screams and chaos around them. But if he did, he paid them no mind, advancing on her swiftly, burning determination raging in his silver eyes.
"Inferno!" Octavia screamed, her voice breaking as Draco halted to a stop, his eyes wide with shock and palpable hurt.
But his face remained in her vision, no orange flames swallowing him whole. Her wand didn't even vibrate with the spell, not reacting in the slightest. Yet, Draco stood frozen in place, his brows furrowing as heartache etched onto his features. She could have sworn that a single tear glistened at the corner of his left eye, but she couldn't be sure due to the metres between them and the smog engulfing them.
Swiftly, anger flashed in his eyes, Draco seemingly coming out of his shocked state, his features turning to stone. Octavia didn't know that Draco would have been able to block her hex, but he didn't need to, for the spell hadn't worked.
Again, he advanced on her with determination and renewed fury, his muscular body tense with the rage that thrashed around him. Octavia could almost feel the black aura licking at her as he stormed toward her, but she kept her wand raised at him, her vision almost totally obscured by tears.
"INFERNO!" Octavia screeched like a banshee, aiming her wand at the advancing blond.
Nothing but a single gust of grey smoke puffed from the tip of her wand at the second attempt of the spell, a sob ripping through her at her failure. Draco didn't falter in the slightest, his muscular chest visibly rising and falling with the sheer brutal force of his rage. Rage that undoubtedly stemmed from absolute heartache at her attempt to kill him.
Realising that her harnessed powers weren't effective in that moment, Octavia glanced frantically around at the ongoing battle, desperately searching for any signs of bushy brown hair. Instead she noticed a flash of red, narrowing her eyes to focus her vision on Ron Weasley duelling Adrian Pucey and Lucius Malfoy. Her heart soared spectacularly as she spotted Hermione beside Ron, fighting just as fiercely, but it wasn't enough. Lucius and Adrian were using much darker magic with greater force, winning by a landslide.
Flickering her gaze back to Draco, who she realised had been momentarily stopped by an attacking Lee Jordan, Octavia's mind swarmed with possible escapes. But the moment that Draco grabbed Lee's head and snapped his neck like it was nothing but straw, she realised; today, Octavia would be captured.
Sobbing horridly, Octavia raised her shaky hand, aiming her wand at the two Death Eaters duelling Hermione and Ron. She inhaled sharply, focusing her mind on the image of flames and death, closing her eyes as she shouted, "Confringo!"
Surges of roaring flames erupted from her wand, soaring right toward Adrian and Lucius before it threw them into a nearby building, blasting them through a window. With the lack of screams, she suspected that it hadn't killed the Death Eaters.
Hermione's gaze darted to Octavia, brown eyes widening as she saw her cousin toss her wand to the ground in defeat, sobbing like a child as she mouthed one word. Run.
Ron snatched Hermione's hand, taking off at sprint through the chaos, following Octavia's commands with Hermione shouting out for her cousin. But Octavia didn't follow. She only broke down into a fit of sobs as Draco reached her.
Shutting her eyes tightly, Octavia whimpered as Draco grabbed her arms and spun her around, pain shooting through her broken ankle sharply. A choked sob escaped her lips as he snatched a fistful of her hair and whacked her forehead off the dumpster, rendering her unconscious instantly.
The last thing she remembered before being totally submerged in darkness was his voice. Two words that killed her soul and heart before she fell limp against him, his muscular arms holding her back against his chest.
I'm sorry.
