Just a reminder – work on this story will be sporadic, because The Visible Invisible is my main priority at the moment.
Also, for anyone who is confused, the first chapter is kind of like a prologue, and the rest of the story takes place eight years after that.
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Chapter 3: Five to One OddsShe heard the crashing of bricks slamming into the pavement all around her, and the heavy weight of a body on top of hers – shielding her. She felt the water from the rain-soaked ground seep in through her clothing; shocking and cold. Within an instant, as soon as the debris settled, he moved off of her, pulling her upper body with him.
"Are you okay?" he asked quickly. In shock, she just stared back at him for a split second, before her quick instincts – born from months working in the Muggle ER – kicked into high gear, and she nodded, and gathered herself up, ready to stand. Another blast hit the wall on the other side of the alley, and he pulled her down, crouching behind a large dumpster as another shower of brick rained down.
"Do you have a wand?" he asked, looking at her with solemn gray eyes. She nodded, and reached down to her sock to retrieve it from her hiding place.
"Good. Stay here, and don't use it unless you absolutely have to. It will just bring more of them," he said, before he stood up, and ran; quickly dodging successive flashes of spells thrown at him, dashing out of the alley and into the street.
* * * *
He cursed under his breath as he spotted them. There were five of them. Five to one – with him injured – were not the kind of odds that he would normally gamble. As he blocked a rather nasty curse thrown straight at him, he took the opportunity to survey the street. Luckily, due to the rain, it was empty. As he aimed a disarming spell at one wizard, he noted grimly that they were starting to surround him. As they closed in around him, he backed slightly into the alleyway.
"Put down your wand, and we'll let you walk away. We're here for the girl," the one in the middle said, his face hidden, like all of them, with his black hood.
"Sorry boys, I'm afraid that's not going to happen. But I will cut you a deal – if you leave now and forget all you've seen, I'll let you live," he answered, his voice full of confidence and arrogance that he did not feel at the moment. A part of him wanted to laugh as he saw the dubious looks of outrage exchanged between his five opponents.
It was exactly the distraction that he needed. As they moved closer together, he threw the biggest curse he could muster at them, and blasted the road they were standing on. He was thrown back by the impact, his head cracking painfully on the pavement. A thick layer of dust had permeated the air, making it difficult to breath, difficult to see. Rain was cascading down his forehead, mingling with the dust, creating a blinding sting when he tried to open them. Groaning loudly against the pain that was raging through his body – the stabbing pain of his open leg wound, the deep throb in his head every time he moved his head, the gasping tear in his chest every time he drew a breath – he forced himself to stand.
As the dust settled, he saw with a sort of detached pride the damage that he had done. There was a rather large, gapping hole in the pavement, and the debris was scattered everywhere. Blinking furiously to clear his vision, he scanned the area, searching for his opponents. Four of them were down, he noted with a grim satisfaction, leaving only one left for him to battle. The leader of the group – the strongest of them all, one who he had trained with throughout most of his life. Someone who knew his moves and techniques better than anyone, because they were his moves, his techniques as well. They had been friends, once, before everything had changed.
He watched as his hooded enemy jerked into consciousness, rising to his feet, searching the rain-slicked ground for his wand. He bit back a smile as he spotted it before his opponent did, lying broken in a muddy puddle a few feet away from him.
"I'll give you one last chance to walk away from this, and only because we're old friends," he seethed angrily from underneath his dripping hood.
"Interesting, coming from someone who has lost his followers and his wand all in one shot. What threat are you to me now?" he asked in return. Through the haze of burning pain, his reactions were somewhat lessened, and too late he realized what his opponent was doing. He was taking a running jump over the gapping hole in the street, his hand outstretched, wielding a dagger.
* * * *
She watched, horror-stricken, as the two strangers in front of her began to struggle, the dagger flashing in the dim light. They were both dressed in dark hoods, and she was unable to identify either of them. She watched, immobile – afraid to breath less she draw more attention to herself – as they fell to the ground, wrestling viciously over the weapon. The one who had saved her from the blast was pinned underneath the other, the dagger poised perilously at his throat. She felt a surge of panic overwhelm her, as she watched him grasp the other man's hand, pushing his hand away from his neck.
She glanced down the alley way, see that the way was clear and that she would be able to flee while the two men battled. As she prepared to stand and run, she paused, seeing the man who had saved her life beginning to weaken his tenuous hold against the dagger. Before reason could enter her mind and dissuade her, she tucked her wand back into it's hiding place in her sock, and jumped up, spotting a wooden crate lying near the dumpster where she was hiding.
Picking it up, and running at the dueling pair, she hoisted it up and brought it down with all her might on the head of the man with the dagger. The wood splintered with a sickening thud, and she backed away as the man underneath sprung forward, pushing the other man off of him as the blow to his head stunned him. Her rescuer jumped to his feet and aimed a well-placed kick, sending the dagger flying through the air. The attacker howled in pain before he started to crawl towards the spot where it had landed.
Her rescuer didn't hesitate, and kicked the fallen man viciously and repeatedly; his abdomen, his face and head. He was screaming in pain, but he still kept moving towards the dagger, seeking the potential salvation it would have. The man who'd saved her was calling out to him, pleading with him. With a strange amount of detachment, she backed away from the horrific scene, standing against the wall and wondered why he was pleading with him.
"Stop moving! Damn it, just stop!" he was yelling, as he landed another blow. He reached down and pulled the sputtering man into a headlock. The attacker coughed; spewing blood to the street, which mingled with the rain and mud. "Your last chance, old friend. Your escape and her safety, or your death."
"My safety is not worth betraying my lord," the attacker said between gasping breaths, and he was consumed by an attack of hacking coughs, which just produced more blood. Her rescuer paused, a stricken look on his face before he closed his eyes and wrenched the man's head while holding his neck in place.
Ginny shrieked in horror as the sickening snap of the sound of the man's neck breaking filled the air, and the body dropped lifelessly to the ground. She pressed her hands to her mouth, horrified and afraid she would vomit from the sight. The man who'd saved her had turned towards her, his face slick with rainwater and blood, and she was still unable to identify him.
"You need to get off the streets before more of them appear," he said gruffly, taking a shaky step towards her. She reached down and whipped out her wand, and pointed at him, her trembling lower lip revealing her terror.
"Who are you and what the hell is going on?" she demanded, forcing her eyes to stay away from the dead body. She saw death often enough in her profession, but she'd never seen the murder of someone firsthand in such a manner before.
"There is no time to explain," he muttered, as he stepped forward again, reaching to grab her arm. She swiftly dodged his reach, jabbing her wand forward threateningly.
"How do you know who I am and where you could find me? How did you know that they were going to attack? What is happening?" she said, damning her weakness as her voice trembled.
"I'm here to help you find your husband before they find you," he said. Ginny gasped, staring at him in confusion, unable to quell the flash of hope that consumed her. She was about to ask another question, when with a groan of pain, the man who'd rescued her collapsed to the ground.