Disclaimer: Don't know and never will.
AN: For this round, we're covering the Gryffindor family. This is a muggle WW2 AU.
AN2: Trigger warning for claustrophobia and violence.
The Germans were here again.
He could hear them tramping about in the room above. He could hear them barking out orders in German and asking questions in heavily accented French. French that sounded horribly unnatural to him. Compared to the normal, natural French he had heard from the Delacour family every day since his arrival, the Germans sounded off.
Of course, it probably had something to do with the fact that the Germans would almost certainly execute everyone here if they found him.
The Germans were searching the room above. The floorboards shook under their boots as they searched and moved ever closer to the hidden trapdoor.
Lieutenant Richard Gryffindor of the Royal Air Force gritted his teeth and tightly gripped his broomhandled Mauser pistol. It would have been easy to use. To point his weapon up and pull the trigger. Just to die in a blaze of glory like his grandfather Godric Gryffindor, against impossible odds.
He released his grip. The Germans had no idea that he was even there and it would be stupidly reckless to change that. If he started randomly shooting now, he would risk hitting Fleur and her children. Even under the best case scenario, he would be placing their family in unacceptable danger.
Instead he sat there and waited. Waited for the Germans to leave. Waited helplessly as the Germans continued their search for any kind of contraband. Any excuse to bring the Delacour family in. Once again, he found himself cursing his broken leg. He could imagine the mocking words his brother would say to him if he ever knew.
His brother was an idiot.
Above, he could hear the sounds of dogs barking and he tensed once more. His heart began to beat faster and he gripped his weapon once more. It was familiar, comforting even. Supposedly the Delacour's had done something to prevent dogs from finding the hidden room, but he had yet to see it in action. His mind wandered to the family above. The two toddlers above feeling the tension in the air and unable to understand why. Fleur standing there with an almost defiant expression on her face. Young Gabrielle trying to stay out of the way. Mr and Mrs Delacour trying to protect their daughters and their grandchildren.
He looked at the other man in the room with him. There was an American airman, a navigator on a B-17 and now just another airman on the underground. He was sweating nervously, his blue eyes darting from place to place. At one point, they made eye contact and Richard could see the fear in the man's eyes. Not that he blamed him really. The room they were in was not large and it was easy to feel claustrophobic in its tight confines. Richard brought his finger up to his mouth and made a shhh gesture against his lips. The man continued to fidget nervously, his fear threatening to overwhelm him.
Richard knew that he had to do something. The way that the man was acting...he had a strong feeling that the other airman was about to give them away. That he was going to do something stupid like trying to run away. Richard held up his hand in a stop sign. They had to trust the Delacour family. If they ran or did something equally stupid, it would put them all at risk and he wasn't prepared to risk it.
The American was clearly no coward. He had various decorations and had served at least one full tour, maybe more. But this was clearly something that felt beyond him. Richard could understand that. Being trapped below ground in a hidden room that was far too small really was a recipe for fear and not the flashy kind either. No, this required much more than that.
The man made a bolt for the way out and Richard threw himself forward. The two men fell to the ground in a loud tumble and above them, they could hear the Germans shouting and voices in French.
Richard held the American down, who was glaring and sweating even more profusely at this point. Richard frowned at him and shook his head.
Above them, they could hear the Germans moving about rapidly. A toddler began crying loudly, followed by another. The two sisters Dominique and Victoire if Richard remembered correctly.
The American began to struggle, trying to slip out of Frank's grasp. Richard leaned forward, placing his weight on the man.
The man continued to slip and slide about in Richard's grip. The sweat was making him increasingly slippery and it was becoming harder and harder to keep a hold of the man.
Outside, they could hear the Germans moving about, their voices becoming more and more agitated. Mr Delacour was talking in rapid French, clearly trying to calm them down and the American's eyes widened slightly and his breathing became increasingly shallow. Once more he desperately tried to escape from Richard without making any noise.
Suddenly the two men noticed Richard's broom handled Mauser. It had fallen to the ground when Richard had thrown himself at the American. Richard looked at the pistol and then back at the American. The American did the same. He could see the fear in the American's eyes. He was clearly determined to run. All his instincts were screaming it at him, Richard could tell.
A gun fired.
From outside their hidden room, someone had fired a round. It could have been a deliberate attempt to regain order or an accident or a shot fired to scare the Delacours.
Whatever the reason, it made both men jump in surprise and Richard released his grip on the American.
The American started crawling for the gun, not caring about anything other than his desperate desire to be out, to take his chances running and to hell with anyone or anything else.
Richard gritted his teeth. His broken leg was still hurting from the abrupt action he had already taken. Throwing himself at the American had been drastic, but necessary in his opinion. The man had bolted for the door. He had almost made it out, putting the Delacours at risk at the very least. He had to stop the man, no matter what. There were too many lives at stake.
He threw himself at the man one more time, praying that he didn't make enough noise to be clearly heard outside the room. The Germans were being loud thankfully. There were shouts in German and French, the stomping of boots and the sounds of young children crying.) The few small noises he made as grappled the other man were hopefully hidden by the noise from the Germans. (At least he hoped so. He really hoped so. If he was wrong...well the consequences didn't really bear worth thinking about really.)
"Stay still!" he hissed angrily in a low voice, deciding that the Germans were making too much noise outside to hear him. Especially through the wall.
"Let me go!" the American hissed, a note of rising panic in his voice. "It's too small...I can't breathe...let me go!"
"If you run, you'll get caught or killed!" Richard hissed and the American snarled angrily.
"You don't understand...it's too small...we're like rats in a trap...let go limey!"
"No!" Richard hissed back. "The Germans are far too close. You'll get killed or caught and the Delacours will be arrested and probably killed! Do you want that on your conscience?"
The American growled and threw himself back hard, kicking hard against the wooden flooring and for a moment, the two men went silent as they listened for any sign that they had been heard. Richard could feel his heart beating rapidly, blood roaring in his ears. The tension in the air was palatable. Fortunately, the Germans were making noise when it happened. That had covered it. At least he hoped that it had. It was hard to say really. But as there were no shouts in gutteral German or German accented French, he guessed that they had managed to get away with their little indiscretion.
"The Germans have heard us," the American hissed and Richard glared at him. "You know it!"
"Get a grip man," Richard hissed in reply. "If they knew, we would know. They don't know."
The American twisted hard, throwing Richard off and onto his back. Richard felt the wind knocked from his lungs as the American held him to the floor and raised his fist. Above them, they could hear Mr Delacour shouting angrily in French at the Germans and at least one crying child.
"Stay out of my way!" the American hissed, breathing hard and Richard could see the panic in his eyes. He sympathised, he really did. But he couldn't allow this man to jeopardise the Delacour family with his reckless panic. "It's not natural for a man to be buried like this underground, the weight of everything sitting above us waiting and creaking and the Germans and-and-and-"
For a moment, the American seemed to run out of words and Richard took the opportunity to punch the man in the stomach. The American lightened his grip and Richard threw the man off him. There was a slight sound as he landed, Richard cushioning the blow as much as possible. He awkwardly rolled over, his useless broken leg dragging like so much dead weight.
He could really use the full mobility of that leg right now.
He grabbed the man hard, trying to pin him desperately to the floor. The American however was now incredibly slippery, twisting and turning and squirming so much that it was proving almost impossible to hold him. It was desperate and fearful and it lent him strength that didn't seem possible.
He crawled closer to the fallen gun. He was almost there. The gun was just a handful of inches away from his hand. Richard had to do something to stop him. He knew that. This was the American's last chance to flee as he so desperately desired.
It was also Richard's only chance at stopping him from blowing everything.
He punched the American hard. The American swung a punch back and Richard felt his vision explode with colour. He shook himself and punched the American again, this time harder. If he could knock him out, then he wouldn't put the Delacour's at risk and he would be gone on the next part of his journey before the Germans came back.
At least, he hoped so.
The American lunged for the pistol. His hand brushed against the weapon and caused it to fall over, just out of reach for now.
The American cursed angrily and Richard breathed a small internal sigh of relief.
He hit the American again, this time hard enough to knock him out.
Richard breathed a sigh of relief as the tension left his body. Above them, he could hear German accented French and the sound of soldiers leaving. A few minutes later, he heard the sound of footsteps and the door to the secret room flew open.
"It is okay monsieur," Gabrielle said, slightly breathlessly. Probably more from fear and nervousness caused by the German's visit than anything else. "Les filthy Broches are gone for now."
"Merci," Richard said and he leaned back, suddenly feeling very tired. He looked over at the American and hoped he would be back in Britain soon.
AN: Not entirely sure I nailed the genre, but I'm happy with the end result.