Disclaimer: JK Rowling's world, me no own, etc, etc. Get the picture?
Warning: Character Deaths.

Chapter 15: Things That Go Bump In The Night
(like heads)

Harry and Ron exchanged a look of apprehension, and stood up, backing away from her.
Lacrimosa moved to block the door, but she was too late. Harry and Ron bolted, and Ron gave a loud cry when she knocked him down with - of all things - a vase.
Ron stumbled to his feet and the various people in the Montaque mansion were alerted when he and Harry began hollering for help.
Morag stepped out into the hallway, and then stepped back just as quickly when she saw Lacrimosa.
So Morag did what any sane girl would do when she saw Lacrimosa Perrault coming at her with murder in her eyes.
She screamed, loud and long. her shriek was piercing and it tore through the night - anyone who hadn't been awake certainly was now.
"Harry! Third door on the left!" she shrieked at him, and watched with satisfaction as he went into the appropriate door, before slamming her own and looking for something - anything - she could use against Lacrimosa, and whoever else she'd brought with her.
She could hear the sounds of the rest of the household waking up to sights similarly frightening as Death Eaters swarmed into the house.
Her search was not in vain - soon enough she found a large, curved and jeweled dagger that had been on the wall to be decorative. Testing the edege, she found it had been kept in perfect condition and - wiping the blood from her finger (where she tested the edge) on her pajamas - she strode into the hallway.
Since the Montaque home was charmed against spells and hexes, the Death Eaters were armed with knives, swords - guns even.
Morag saw the hallway was now deserted, no one else had been in this area, not now. She didn't have time to wonder where or how they were. She got with as much speed as she could muster to the room she'd sent Harry to.
Harry stood in it, looking amazed. "Morag, this is amazing..."
"I know. Lacci's personal armoury. She had some odd tastes. Can you learn how to use a dagger, really, really fast?"
"I can try."
"Do or don't, it's your life, Potter." Morag shrugged and found some of Lacrimosa's old things. She strapped daggers to her thights, waist, arms and even found a handgun she was glad to see was loaded.
"What's going on?" Harry's eyes went round as he watched her.
"Looks like Voldemort's decided his big comebacks going to be a little sooner than we thought." She said drily. "That was my aunt, Lacrimosa. She's a bitch, and one of Voldemort's finest. She wouldn't have walked into this place on her own; not even she's stupid enough to do that. A spell, curses, hexes - the place is charmed against them. Which is why I insist you at least work out how to point a gun, because I know Aunt Lacci and she means business.
Harry nodded, numbly.

Morganna screamed as a Death Eater kicked in her door, and Severus was on his feet in a second. He reached for his wand, but Morganna stopped him, remembering her father's charms against magic and the preparations that had been made in the past. She felt under the bed, and sure enough, there it was. She handed him a sword. Maxwell Montaque had always had a thing for them.
"It's pretty easy, Sev," she whispered as she pressed it into his hand and rolled off the bed, hoping they wouldn't be too late. "Sharp pointy end into the other person..."
"I know sword fighting, love." He said tightly, and leapt toward the intruders.

Ginny hurled foul insults - most likely taught by her brothers - at her attackers as she scrambled away from them and then gave a startled cry when she saw Morag, in the middle of the fray in the dining room.
Morag had fled the hallway to where everyone was mainly the dining room. Atop a table, she was reloading a handgun, accompanied by those near her that she had roused (George, Este, Fred, Draco, Harry and Hermione).
"Look out!" Ginny screamed, but just a moment too late.
Blood flowed freely down Morag's back, a dagger flung into her shoulder. She howled with pain, and sank down, blood staining the pale skin.
For a moment, time stopped.
A gunshot penetrated the silence, and a Death Eater went down with a bullet between his eyes. Bookish little Hermione was a better shot than anyone would have thought.
Death Eaters withdrew. Morag Snape was incapacitated, and Madame Perrault had made it clear she wanted the Snapes left alone once they were incapacitated. They had to watch the suffering and carnage around them...

Narcissa was jerked out of her bed and thrown against a wall by none other than her husband, Lucius Malfoy.
"You're dead," she whispered.
"No such luck, Cissa." He snarled. "But darling, you are."
She stared at him uncomprehendingly, but things became clear when he thrust a dagger into her throat, blood staining her white negligee and trickling out of her mouth as she fell with a last, gurgling shriek to the ground. Crumpled like a broken doll, this slender, bloodstained body was all that was left of Narcissa Malfoy, born Narcissa Helena de Vries."
"'Til death do us part." Lucius murmured, and left her lying there.
Without a backwards glance, he strode out of the room.

When the assault on the home ended, it became apparent that Narcissa had not been the only casualty.
Viktor was dead, a bullet to the head took him quickly.
Lacrimosa herself killed Ron, brutally.
Lillias, dead.
Elysoun, dead.
Richard, dead.
Stuart was dead, Rene was dead, Babette was dead, and all doubted that Yvonne would make it to dawn.
Clayton had watched his parents murdered. Lucia Montaque and John Thorne died together.
It was unlikely Gerad would live.
Hermione and Harry sat with the Weasleys, mourning the loss of Ron.
That night, the things that went bump were the bodies of the fallen.
All wept, all mourned, and none would ever be the same.