[Disclaimer: I do not own anything created by JK Rowling]
Chapter Sixteen: Headlines
'Montaque Massacre: 10 Confirmed Dead'
Morganna stared at the headline.
The night before last, she had watched as her sister lead a group of Death Eaters against her, her family, and their guests.
Gerad and Yvonne could go either way at that point in time, and Morganna had not left her brother's bedside. She was vaguely aware of Severus grasping her hand tightly, and she leaned back against him, closing her eyes against the harsh reality.
Morag and Draco sat by the lake, beneath a tree. Well, Morag sat, and Draco lay with his head in her lap. He hadn't cried, but it didn't take an IQ of a billion to work out how much it hurt him.
They said nothing, just sitting there, listening to the silence. Draco's face was an unreadable mask, but Morag's emotions could be read in her eyes. She was lost, her large blue eyes full of softened pain.
Jenni sat with her niece, and had just received an owl from Ame, her twin sister. Ame had been understandably fraught when Jenni informed her of what had happened - Este, after all, was her daughter, and Jenni her sister.
Jenni hugged her niece tightly, careful of the bandaged hand. "It'll be all right," she whispered, and prayed silently she was right.
This...this was...beyond words...
It was dinner now, and then table was silent as they ate until Morganna stood up.
She addressed the children - teenagers - when she finally spoke. "We've discussed it, and decided we will all go back to England as soon as possible. My secretary from Les chiffons is organizing a flight with muggle transportation, since we've agreed that movements in the muggle world are likely to be safer, for the time being. After dinner, pack your things and we leave in the morning."
Morag leaned her head on Draco's shoulder, and he put an arm around her, they were at a time when mutual comfort was a must. Both had lost, and pride would let neither ask for help.
All had run out of tears, pain had numbed them. Molly Weasley had not come down to dinner that evening, and neither had Arthur. Harry and Hermione were stunned, they could hardly believe that Ron was really gone. And Viktor...Hermione had watched him killed.
Clayton, Elysoun and Elena were scared. Clayton was orphaned, and it seemed likely the twins would soon be as well.
Lang Hyland had left France earlier in the day with the bodies of his daughter and son-in-law. Lang's younger daughter - Marguerite Hyland - did not yet know of her sister's death. She was spending the summer with her mother's family in New York.
Severus held his wife close to him, not wanting to risk losing her. Few Death Eaters had been killed, but they had lost ten people. Twelve, perhaps.
Friends, family.
Innocents.
Innocence.
Tear-stained cheeks and pain-filled eyes.
Life's a bitch...
...and then you die.
"What about Draco?" Severus asked his wife as she packed.
Morganna didn't hesitate before she replied, "He comes with us."
"...?"
"Narcissa was my friend, and Lucius was - perhaps not recently - your friend. Constance can't take him, I spoke to her earlier, and he's going to his father's relations over my dead body." Morganna said calmly, a calm she did not feel. "For the meantime, he comes with us."
"We'll discuss this later." Severus promised. He wasn't sure he liked the idea but, for the mean time, she was right.
"Ten confirmed dead, master." Malfoy reported.
Voldemort smiled. "Send in Madame Perault. I would speak with her."
"Your will, master." Malfoy bowed and exited silently.
Soon after, Lacrimosa strode into the room, calmly sharpening a dagger. "Master."
"Madame Perrault. A success?"
"Complete. We found Potter and his friends there, as well. One of his number will not be bothering you again." Her tone was even, pleasant. The sort of tone she would use at a parent-teacher interview.
"The mudblood?"
"The Weasley."
"Nevermind. The little mudblood is next, Madame Perrault. Her, then Potter. We will deal with the Snapes soon enough. What else have you to report?"
"Malfoy's faked death was superb. Even his wife believed him to be dead." She paused. "Right up until the moment he killed her, of course."
"Narcissa de Vries. A good wife she made him."
"Now she will make a pretty corpse."
"Naturally. Go, I wish to think on this." Voldemort waved her away, and Lacrimosa was smiling as she left.
"Morag?" ESte asked, knocking on the door.
Morag opened it, and forced a brief, painful smile. "Yes?"
"Do you need any help packing?"
It was the flimsiest of excuses, but nobody wanted to be alone.
"That'd be great, ESte." Morag nodded, gratitude shining through the unshed tears in her eyes.
"Okay." Este came into the room. She and Morag went silently about the task of packing.
"So, you've finished your packing?" Morag asked in as calm a tone as she could muster. She was physically, mentally, and emotionally exhausted and drained. All she wanted was to forget.
"Yes." Este nodded. "Aunt Jenni and your mother are in the parlor. I think we might be leaving earlier than we thought."
"Good idea."
"Yeah."
As it turned out, they were loaded onto an airplane that night, at around 11pm. Morganna had managed to pull enough strings that their flight was private.
News came just before they left.
Gerad and Yvonne both died that night.
Elena, Elysoun and Clayton would go together to live with Jean and Charlotta Montaque, and their cousins, Sylph and Nymph.
Morganna had no tears left to cry for her beloved brother.
From an upstairs window in the mansion, a translucent figure watched as the airplane went overhead.
Gloria Anne Montaque predicted danger, and had tried to warn her niece. But she'd had not enough information, and in too little time. Nobody had been prepared.
Now it was too late. Morag wouldn't come back to this place, that she did not doubt.
Then again, Morag knew.
Someone knew.
That was enough for G.A. Montaque.
"Come along, Mister Panda," Gloria motioned to her cat, turning away from the window.
Damnation followed her as she floated out of the room.
'Montaque Massacre: 10 Confirmed Dead'
Author's Note:
Talk about depressing. Well, that's all there is of this story, and I won't be doing 'Summer' stories. From now, it'll be the schoolyear, and only tailends of summers if they're needed. Well, I say that, but you know me. Stories tend to get away from me. I assure you this is not how I planned the ending.
Ron fans, don't hate me. Flames about his death will be politely disregarded. (I'll ignore them)
I've never really been a Ron fan. Or a Ron/Hermione shipper.
Do review, I'll love you forever!
Toodles to yoodles,
~ Adele Elisabeth
Chapter Sixteen: Headlines
'Montaque Massacre: 10 Confirmed Dead'
Morganna stared at the headline.
The night before last, she had watched as her sister lead a group of Death Eaters against her, her family, and their guests.
Gerad and Yvonne could go either way at that point in time, and Morganna had not left her brother's bedside. She was vaguely aware of Severus grasping her hand tightly, and she leaned back against him, closing her eyes against the harsh reality.
Morag and Draco sat by the lake, beneath a tree. Well, Morag sat, and Draco lay with his head in her lap. He hadn't cried, but it didn't take an IQ of a billion to work out how much it hurt him.
They said nothing, just sitting there, listening to the silence. Draco's face was an unreadable mask, but Morag's emotions could be read in her eyes. She was lost, her large blue eyes full of softened pain.
Jenni sat with her niece, and had just received an owl from Ame, her twin sister. Ame had been understandably fraught when Jenni informed her of what had happened - Este, after all, was her daughter, and Jenni her sister.
Jenni hugged her niece tightly, careful of the bandaged hand. "It'll be all right," she whispered, and prayed silently she was right.
This...this was...beyond words...
It was dinner now, and then table was silent as they ate until Morganna stood up.
She addressed the children - teenagers - when she finally spoke. "We've discussed it, and decided we will all go back to England as soon as possible. My secretary from Les chiffons is organizing a flight with muggle transportation, since we've agreed that movements in the muggle world are likely to be safer, for the time being. After dinner, pack your things and we leave in the morning."
Morag leaned her head on Draco's shoulder, and he put an arm around her, they were at a time when mutual comfort was a must. Both had lost, and pride would let neither ask for help.
All had run out of tears, pain had numbed them. Molly Weasley had not come down to dinner that evening, and neither had Arthur. Harry and Hermione were stunned, they could hardly believe that Ron was really gone. And Viktor...Hermione had watched him killed.
Clayton, Elysoun and Elena were scared. Clayton was orphaned, and it seemed likely the twins would soon be as well.
Lang Hyland had left France earlier in the day with the bodies of his daughter and son-in-law. Lang's younger daughter - Marguerite Hyland - did not yet know of her sister's death. She was spending the summer with her mother's family in New York.
Severus held his wife close to him, not wanting to risk losing her. Few Death Eaters had been killed, but they had lost ten people. Twelve, perhaps.
Friends, family.
Innocents.
Innocence.
Tear-stained cheeks and pain-filled eyes.
Life's a bitch...
...and then you die.
"What about Draco?" Severus asked his wife as she packed.
Morganna didn't hesitate before she replied, "He comes with us."
"...?"
"Narcissa was my friend, and Lucius was - perhaps not recently - your friend. Constance can't take him, I spoke to her earlier, and he's going to his father's relations over my dead body." Morganna said calmly, a calm she did not feel. "For the meantime, he comes with us."
"We'll discuss this later." Severus promised. He wasn't sure he liked the idea but, for the mean time, she was right.
"Ten confirmed dead, master." Malfoy reported.
Voldemort smiled. "Send in Madame Perault. I would speak with her."
"Your will, master." Malfoy bowed and exited silently.
Soon after, Lacrimosa strode into the room, calmly sharpening a dagger. "Master."
"Madame Perrault. A success?"
"Complete. We found Potter and his friends there, as well. One of his number will not be bothering you again." Her tone was even, pleasant. The sort of tone she would use at a parent-teacher interview.
"The mudblood?"
"The Weasley."
"Nevermind. The little mudblood is next, Madame Perrault. Her, then Potter. We will deal with the Snapes soon enough. What else have you to report?"
"Malfoy's faked death was superb. Even his wife believed him to be dead." She paused. "Right up until the moment he killed her, of course."
"Narcissa de Vries. A good wife she made him."
"Now she will make a pretty corpse."
"Naturally. Go, I wish to think on this." Voldemort waved her away, and Lacrimosa was smiling as she left.
"Morag?" ESte asked, knocking on the door.
Morag opened it, and forced a brief, painful smile. "Yes?"
"Do you need any help packing?"
It was the flimsiest of excuses, but nobody wanted to be alone.
"That'd be great, ESte." Morag nodded, gratitude shining through the unshed tears in her eyes.
"Okay." Este came into the room. She and Morag went silently about the task of packing.
"So, you've finished your packing?" Morag asked in as calm a tone as she could muster. She was physically, mentally, and emotionally exhausted and drained. All she wanted was to forget.
"Yes." Este nodded. "Aunt Jenni and your mother are in the parlor. I think we might be leaving earlier than we thought."
"Good idea."
"Yeah."
As it turned out, they were loaded onto an airplane that night, at around 11pm. Morganna had managed to pull enough strings that their flight was private.
News came just before they left.
Gerad and Yvonne both died that night.
Elena, Elysoun and Clayton would go together to live with Jean and Charlotta Montaque, and their cousins, Sylph and Nymph.
Morganna had no tears left to cry for her beloved brother.
From an upstairs window in the mansion, a translucent figure watched as the airplane went overhead.
Gloria Anne Montaque predicted danger, and had tried to warn her niece. But she'd had not enough information, and in too little time. Nobody had been prepared.
Now it was too late. Morag wouldn't come back to this place, that she did not doubt.
Then again, Morag knew.
Someone knew.
That was enough for G.A. Montaque.
"Come along, Mister Panda," Gloria motioned to her cat, turning away from the window.
Damnation followed her as she floated out of the room.
'Montaque Massacre: 10 Confirmed Dead'
Author's Note:
Talk about depressing. Well, that's all there is of this story, and I won't be doing 'Summer' stories. From now, it'll be the schoolyear, and only tailends of summers if they're needed. Well, I say that, but you know me. Stories tend to get away from me. I assure you this is not how I planned the ending.
Ron fans, don't hate me. Flames about his death will be politely disregarded. (I'll ignore them)
I've never really been a Ron fan. Or a Ron/Hermione shipper.
Do review, I'll love you forever!
Toodles to yoodles,
~ Adele Elisabeth
