As always - I own no rights to the Potter world save the books on a shelf.
Voldemort has shown himself and muggle-borns, like Ivy Taggart, are on the run. She and two others take shelter in an old apple orchard, but they are not alone. This is part 2 of a 3-part encounter featuring a particular favorite from my "Peek Goes to Hogwarts" novel.
Trapped
The rain had stopped and quiet footfalls were heard nearby. Benjamin had opened the shed door expecting muggles. He had cast multiple concealment charms to hide the shed from others but he was far from an adept and interlopers sometimes stumbled through. Benjamin was struck down by the Cruciatus Curse. He writhed in searing pain for a short moment and died there in the damp and dirt.
Ivy flattened against the wall."Dexter, stay back!" she shouted as other spells shot through the open doorway and burst against the far wall or blasted holes through it.
Instead, Dexter dove across the floor to Ivy's side and attempted to fold his long legs tightly up to his chest. He pressed into her out of fear. She held him tight with her arm.
Benjamin had his wand in hand when opened the door and it fell a short distance from Ivy. She reached out with her hand and called, "Accio!"
Ivy could work magic without a wand, especially if affecting muggle objects. She had limited success in the wizarding world because magic needed to be channeled and directed to affect other magics. She could float a cup, or turn pages of a book, or untie shoelaces at a short distance, which drew smiles or frowns depending on her intent to amuse or annoy. Regardless, the ability was a hint at having non-magical parents. It was held by the uninformed, that children of magic, living outside the world of magic, developed their fledgling abilities without wand-using parents to serve as models. Ivy's parents were in fact muggles and in Voldemort's world, she never used the incriminating ability unless absolutely needed.
Benjamin's wand flew up and over to Ivy's hand. Her heart leaped at the success.
"Ollobay Portilus Regales!" she called with a swiping motion of the wand, which caused the door to swing on its hinges, slam shut, and bind itself into the doorframe.
Spells continued to impact the door and the outside walls and some burst through. Dust and splinters of wood fell upon Ivy and Dexter. Ivy leaned forward and gently tapped Benjamin's shoulder.
"Benjamin, say something," Ivy called out. "Benjamin?"
"Benjamin, please…," whispered Dexter. "Don't be dead. Please don't be dead."
Benjamin was unmoving.
"Come out like good little kittens," called a voice when the attack paused. "No need for anyone else to get hurt."
Ivy considered the fallen Benjamin, her Benjamin if she had just one more moment with the young man. He was not hurt. He was dead.
R.H. Slaughter was an ambitious man who led the small band of snatchers. He chose the name "Slaughter" because he would never be considered for a Death Eater by the dark lord, with his milquetoast given name of, "Robert Honesty Goodfavor".
He moved in closer with wand out and instructed his fellow snatchers to do the same.
"We know you're muggle-born," said Slaughter. He was close enough to be heard with his speaking voice. "There are many just like you being returned to the ministry for processing. That's all we're doing, processing. After that, you'll get your lives back. No more mucking around in the cold or wallowing in the mud. Whattaya say?"
"We're trapped," whispered Dexter. "There's no escape."
Ivy looked around the shed for anything that might help them. Nothing remained except cobwebs, the old water trough, and a long-abandoned bird nest up in the rafters. She could try to apparate, and at the end that might be their only hope, but Benjamin's ash and unicorn-hair wand was awkward in her hand and successfully transporting anywhere required focus and precision.
"C'mon kittens," called Slaughter. "It's raining again and that old shed is full of holes - well, now it is, anyway. Let's get you somewhere dry and warm."
"He means to the ministry," said Ivy softly to Dexter. Her tone was sarcastic as she aimed the wand at the door and considered spells that might strengthen it.
"Yes to the ministry," replied Slaughter. He was right outside the door and could hear her.
Ivy jumped up and backed from the door. She held the ash wand out before her in trembling hands. Dexter jumped up too and moved in behind her. He held his knife out at the ready, but against wands, it was little better than a play-toy.
"We'll get you into dry clothes and feed you a hot meal," continued Slaughter. "I'm a gentleman, really, and true to my word."
There were other snatchers who had moved in close to the shed along with Slaughter. Ivy and Dexter heard several of them snickering and stifling laughs.
"We can't go out there," whispered Ivy. "We can't."
"Can we apparate?" said Dexter. His voice was as quiet as Ivy's but quivering. "You could try. I'll hold onto you."
"I'll splinch it, Dex. Do you know what that means? It means we leave pieces behind - maybe big pieces."
"We're going to die if we don't try," said Dexter, "just like Ben."
"Kittens, I'm getting soaked to the skin out here," growled Slaughter. "At some point, soon, my good nature will end and me and my snatcher pals will tear down this shed, with you in it."
"Benjamin is dead," called Ivy in reply. She could hear Slaughter testing the door and running his wand-tip around the frame. She could see his silhouette pass before the many holes. "How do we know you won't kill us too?"
"Well now, that is a shame," said Slaughter with a pause. "It's a waste, really." A dull flash and a slight rattling of the door meant he had removed Ivy's door-binding spell. "That spell was only meant to get his attention," continued Slaughter. "If he were in a better way - not so starved and run-down - he would have lived. He should have lived."
Slaughter moved back from the door and gave a whispered call to the others. Their footfalls could be heard coming back around the shed to take up places near him. Slaughter and his snatchers were about to blast through the door. "Just as the two of you should have…"
Ivy padded over to the door and looked through one of the larger blast holes. Slaughter was counting down on his fingers from three. He and his gang were at the ready with their wands aimed at the door. More than several of the snatchers had anticipating grins spread across their faces.
"Wait, wait," called Ivy. "Stop. Okay, we're coming out."
"Ivy, no," hissed Dexter. "Let's apparate out of here. You have to try."
"No Dex. This thing is cold and clumsy." Ivy gave the wand a quick wave. "I'd rather try talking to them than gamble with it. Maybe I can reach them. Maybe they'll listen to reason."
"Well, kittens?" growled Slaughter. "We're waiting."
"It'll be okay," said Ivy. "You'll see."
Ivy tried the door, her binding spell had been wiped away as if it was dust on a tabletop. The door creaked and swung wide. The filtered light of the rain-gray evening broke the darkness of the inside shed. The small fire under the metal trough sputtered and failed as a cold breeze whipped through.
Four men and three women stood before the door. Each wizard or witch, dressed in greys or blacks, faced Ivy and young Dexter behind her. Each wizard or witch aimed their wand at Ivy's chest and the frenzied heart beating within it.
Ivy stepped into the open with Benjamin's wand out with fear crashing over her in waves.
"What have we here?" said a wizard on Ivy's left. His face was pitted. His hair was greasy. His grubby hands were thin like claws and topped with dirt-caked fingernails. He was called "Swede", not because of some Nordic heritage but more because the shape of his head bore a likeness to the common "Swedish Turnip", also known for being very dense and thick.
"Another little pretty," sneered a witch on Ivy's right. "They're always good for sport." The woman's face was angled forward and cast in darkness. Her thin-lipped grin pulled taught over rotted teeth. Her voice dipped low. "And I do love sport." Bethal was a short, gray-haired, witch from Pyre, where dark wizards gather. She could not produce a documented lineage, nor could anyone from that region, but their allegiances to dark wizards like Voldemort and Grindelwald were never questioned.
Ivy's gaze jumped from wizard to witch to wizard, from one to another, across the semi-circle of snatchers, and back to Slaughter who stood foremost and center.
"We've apples inside." Ivy's voice shook but she drew herself up with some effort and flashed a strained smile. "They're freshly boiled and, well... okay, they're disgusting really, but who's hungry? They're hot."
A wizard to Slaughter's right gave a scoffing laugh. His name was Tillik, of the Swampleach Tilliks, near Bree. He had pure blood running through his veins with a foul heart to pump it. "Let's get this over with, Slaughter. I'm cold."
"And, we have a warm fire…", Ivy continued with her best effort. She looked back at the metal trough. The small fire was now little more than a thin line of smoke. "We had a warm fire," said Ivy, trying to make a light joke of it. She faltered when her eyes took in the fallen Benjamin. "Did I...did I mention the apples?"
"Don't much care if we get the living bounty on them," said another further to the right. He ignored Ivy as if she didn't exist, or was at the least, not worth responding to. His name was Spedlester. He could not trace magic use back through the ages but both his parents could use a wand as well as the next wizard or witch. "I'm soaked, I'm tired, and this little two-knut, tart needs to shut her gob."
"Living bounty?" breathed Dexter. "They're going to kill us."
"Dexter hush," hissed Ivy.
Slaughter smiled. "They won't be trouble," he said to both Ivy and Dexter but he was speaking at Ivy because she had the wand. "Right, little miss?"
Ivy shook her head. "None, sir, even less so if you just let us go."
"That's not going to happen," said Slaughter with a laugh. "You'll fetch a good price. You and the tall one, here"
"Dead or alive", added the witch on Ivy's right, the one who loved her "sport". She gave a toothy grin and a gravelly cackle. "But 'dead' don't need to be right off, see? It can be slow and take days."
Several of the snatchers laughed. They knew the gray-haired witch as being particularly cruel to the young.
Ivy gulped. It was time to attempt an apparition. There was no negotiating with the snatchers. The "Processing" at the Ministry would likely be far from agreeable when rewards for their capture were given whether living or not. Processing was likely something very conclusive and very life-ending.
"Now hold on, miss," said Slaughter as he eased into a ready stance. "I can see it in your eyes - you are about to do something rash and untoward." Slaughter held his off-hand up to the others as if stating, "this one's mine." His eyes narrowed and his face drew into a sneer. "If you're not careful you'll hurt my feelings and none of us want that."
"Look, we just want to go," said Ivy with a faltering voice but she attempted another smile. She liked people and she was comfortable with people and some people just needed a little extra encouragement to be won over, even ruffian-thugs doing the bidding of an evil dark lord. She held her hands up with the wand facing away. "Come, friends. Whattaya say?"
Just then, three figures popped into the area between Ivy and Dexter, and Slaughter and his snatchers. Hermione Granger arrived first, followed a fractional moment later by Harry Potter and Ron Weasley. A full five seconds ticked away before anyone understood what had happened.
This ends part 2 of 3
Please share your thoughts. What do we think of Ivy? Who are the canon scholars out there - Have I pushed the limits a bit with wandless magic? Can anyone apparate with any wand if they are comfortable with the spell? Should Ivy try it or best not? As always, please leave your comments.