The high-pitched scream chilled his blood. With a voice like that, Marcus doubted the owner was anywhere near old enough to be wandering, to be fighting, in a war.
His father had chosen to support the Dark Lord and the insanity of bringing war to Hogwarts.
Marcus didn't want to be there, but it had been between arriving at Hogwarts with his father or being disowned. His Transfiguration Mastery was nowhere near completion, and his N.E.W.T scores would have been too low to be accepted without his father's persuasion.
Arriving at Hogwarts with his father didn't mean that they would be fighting on the same side. Marcus just needed to make sure he wasn't spotted by anyone who would report back to his father.
He raced through the halls he had once looked at in wonder and excitement, wondering how those same walls were suddenly so willing to feature in future nightmares. There was only rubble that remained in the little cove where he had first confessed to a pretty Pureblood Ravenclaw, and Marcus was almost glad that fond memory could remain untainted in his mind (despite him having been rejected).
Marcus recognized both the figures as he stumbled back behind the corner of the corridor.
The smaller was a little Gryffindor that looked somewhat out of place without a camera around his neck. Marcus could remember that boy waiting outside the Slytherin change room for him after one of the matches the Snakes had lost to the Lions.
The boy's eyes that had lit up upon catching sight of him, and the Gyrffindor's excited figure had bounced up and down as he waved and exclaimed at a photo. Marcus couldn't even find it in himself to be angry at the Gryffindor. The Gryffindor shoved the photo in Marcus' face exclaiming how cool he looked in the air and how the boy wanted to give him this particular photo because it was the coolest.
(The photo was still on his bedside because he did, in fact, look 'cool'.)
The other was the one person Marcus had been planning to avoid for however long it took for the fighting to end. The plan had been to cast the occasional shield spell, but ultimately be invisible and disappear into some of the less known corridors and classrooms.
Marcus saw the boy's fingers and wondered how long it would be until he was able to take a photo again. The glazed look in the boy's eyes didn't bode well either, but knowing how their familial magic worked, it would be difficult to just stun his father.
He summoned several large pieces of debris down the corridor instead, hoping at least one of them would knock his father out given the distance, size, and speed. The Gryffindor was on the ground and would likely be safe from the flying pieces of wall, and it would also make the entire situation look like a freak accident. Marcus hoped that his father could chalk it up to accidental magic if he remembered… or being in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Hopefully it would also slow him from harming anyone else.
Marcus waited only until the debris had slammed into the wall before he summoned the boy to him with magic.
A quick weightless charm on the both of them, and he was rushing towards the Sixth Floor where he had heard the other students had been evacuated earlier.
He didn't really have a plan for getting the Gryffindor into the room and could only hope he would run into someone less conspicuous.
Written for [587 words]
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