Where Angels Fear to Thread.
Please Read and Review. I'd like to know what I'm doing right (to keep doing it), and what I'm I doing wrong (to correct it).
Note: Harry Potter plays the role of Sir Not-Appearing-in-This-Chapter
Undisclosed Location
Death Eater Safe House
"I tell you, it will be easy. One of our spies listened to the McCrimmon girl at the Hogwarts Express, right when she confided to one of her blood-traitor friends that her family had buried their swords. Also several of their friends did the same, even though they are not Scottish. That means they have forsaken violence. Ready for the slaughter. Even if they want to fight, they are weak." The Death Eater smiled crookedly, his glee at the perspective of violence and torture inflicted upon his Master's enemies.
His companion's smile was just as nasty. "Then, I think we should invite the rest. Time for some fun times. The McCrimmons are either very old, or very young. Our Lord culled most of the family during the war. But there are still some pretty girls among them." He rubbed his chin, thinking.
"So, do you know where they are hiding?"
"No, not yet. But it's only a matter of time before she slips up. I had the chance to connect the Trace Detector to a map. As soon as the girl uses her wand, we will know the location."
"Good! I can barely wait."
Three days later, the map chimed. the young blood-traitor had used magic!
Immediately, he transcribed the coordinates, and Floo-called the rest of his friends. This would be a very fun night!
Undisclosed Location
McCrimmon Clan Hideout
"Are you sure this is going to work, Grandfather?"
"I got the wards set just as we planned, Jamie-lad. Anti-apparition, anti-Portkey, the works, just like they did in the war. But layered in three sets. Center, outer, and middle. Just as she planned."
"Good, I don't want a single one to escape. It is time to erase their taint from the world."
"Oh, they won't, mylord. They won't." A nasty cackle followed those words.
Three pops signalled the departure of three men.
Somewhere in Scotland
McCrimmon Ancestral Manor Grounds
The Death Eaters, forty seven in number, materialized out of the wards. And walked confidently towards the glowing line that marked the limits of the warded area.
"Too weak for the size of the place, don't you think?"
"Pfah, less work for the breakers. Come on, let's do it."
The wards were good quality, but very old. They would have failed by themselves in a couple of years. It was a matter of minutes to bypass them.
None of the Death Eaters realized it, but when the wards fell, another set of magical protections sprung into being, far behind them.
They advanced, eager to kill and torture.
"Middle wards have fallen." A voice announced.
"Outer wards active." Another answered.
"Center wards now active. Secondary enchantment powering down. Failure of secondary enchantment in thirty seconds."
"Everything proceeds according to the plan, protect your ears."
Three young men set their Muggle ear protections in place. Except for the wards and the now failing transfiguration, this was a completely non-magical operation.
It didn't take long before the secondary enchantment failed. A number of flat rocks, carefully set in inter-crossing angles, glimmered, hidden behind some dirt and fallen leaves, glued to a green and brown net. Changing back to their original shape and function. If it wasn't for the net, three words would be easily read on their surface.
Meanwhile, the outer and center wards power increased. The Death Eaters didn't know it, but they were trapped between two sets of powerful wards. Both were inert for as long as the middle ward functioned. It's failure activated the other two.
Their functions were different. Center protected the house and its occupants. However, the place was empty at the moment. Monitoring charms sent information to the current position of three young men, who had line of sight to the manor. The rest of the clan safely hidden at a place hundreds of miles away from the ancestral home.
Outer would keep the intruders from fleeing. Trapping them right into a killing field.
The Death Eaters advanced towards the house. One of them felt something pulling his foot. He was beginning to wonder what is was when his life ended in thunder, blood, and pain.
The others were paralyzed by the surprise. But didn't had much time to react.
A series of thunders around them deafened, while their bodies were torn to shreds.
The last few Death Eaters tried to flee, only to find themselves trapped in the killing zone. Scared out of their minds, they ran.
And died as their companions did.
Lord James McCrimmon, the youngest Head of House for Clan McCrimmon in five centuries, walked carefully to the ruined ground, with his two cousins at his side, ready to kill anybody who could still draw breath on the now destroyed area around the manor. The young Lord adjusted his (mostly ceremonial) two-handed sword at his back. The Claymore sword had been in his family for generations. Well cared for, the sword would be in the clan for centuries more, if he had something to say about it. Using his niece to set the bait for the Death Eaters had been a desperate gambit, but the lass was eager to do her part, for family and revenge. Tonight, many Dark families would have a taste of the pain they had caused.
He surveyed the area. There was nothing recognizable, trees, bushes, rocks, bodies, and even the ground had been torn to pieces by thousands and thousands of metal bearings.
Even with magic, it would take years to bring the ground back to its former glory. He shook his head sadly, for a moment. He hoped his ancestors wouldn't begrudge him the desperate measures he had to take to protect the still living family.
He picked up a still recognizable fragment, it contained two raised letters, "NT"; but he knew very well the rest of the text. "FRONT TOWARD ENEMY".
Grimacing, he dropped the fragment, and vanished it with a wand movement.
He was grateful to have learned the right way to transfigure Claymore mines into simple rocks.
Author Notes:
When I got the idea for this scene, I knew I had to reference a very particular Highlander. Jamie McCrimmon, my favourite Doctor Who companion. This is not a DW crossover, but I just couldn´t resist.
I must backtrack a bit here to give a belated credit. Turns out I subconsciously swiped the Claymore mines from another fic. Go check "Who Dares Wins" a very good story by OlegGunnarson. In that story, the trap is a bit different, but the basic idea is the same.