Thanks so much to: Judal Hiwatari, laceyowens50, bratwurst and Colin Creevey for reviewing!

Questions:

Is Lawson dyslexic/dyspraxic?
He's severely dyslexic though its undiagnosed

Do they (the Malfoys) have any significance?
Probably

The 3 headed dog reminds Sol of Lysel, I bet it means something?
Its just because he knows Lysel is a werewolf so things to do with wolves and dogs remind him of Lysel

"Get up, you worthless fuck!" a familiar voice yelled angrily.

Lawson whimpered as he felt his stepfather's foot collide with his stomach, weakly he tried to curl his body further into a protective ball but moving hurt too much. Everything hurt too much. Bryan must have beaten him pretty badly, so badly he couldn't even remember it. He had to struggle to stay this conscious, the fact the ground was very hard and oddly cold did not discourage drowsiness right now.

"I said get up, Lawson!" his stepfather snapped and kicked again, Lawson tried to cry out but it hurt so badly but he couldn't speak…? "I know I didn't hurt you that badly, get the fuck up!"

He opened and closed his mouth, realizing it was coated with the coppery taste of blood. Concern shot through the pain and survival instinct compelled him to try move again, feeling an oddly warm sticky liquid against his fingers. Falling back into a peaceful painless sleep was looking rather enticing compared to worrying about this, was probably overall worse for his health though…

"Lawson!" his stepfather barked and kicked yet again, somehow managing to kick the pain through him, "If I have to get your mother to heal you again then I'm getting the fucking bat!"

Lawson's eyes snapped open in terror at the thought of the bat, what he saw in the dim gloom was somehow more horrifying though. There was a bar sticking out of him, out of his own stomach and coated in his own blood which was starting to pool beneath him. Someone was standing there too, a child's bare feet were standing in his blood. He let his eyes follow upwards, seeing a pristine white dress and finally his own daughter's face. She giggled, tucking her dark hair back behind her ears as she always liked it.

"Daddy, just how fucked in the head are you to see Bryan? Seriously," Whit chided him with a shake of her head, still looking amused but nonetheless she offered him a hand to help him up.

He smiled at the sight of her safe and sound, despite the distant ringing of alarm bells in his mind as it fumbled to find the foggy memories explaining his situation. He reached out to take her hand, only for his hand to fall right through and he hit the ground painfully, a pang echoing out as the bar struck the concrete. He couldn't even gasp, the pain was so overwhelming but Whit laughed.

"Fucking idiot!" Whit spat at him and he opened eyes he hadn't realized he'd been closing, remembering as he did so, "I'm dead! How the hell were you expecting me to help you up when I'm not even here? Idiot."

Lawson breathed out blood, feeling dumb as he instead tried to pull himself up as gently as possible to avoid aggravating his injury and almost fell again as he put his hand on a stupid stick. Not a stick, the wand, he realized and tried to keep it in hand as he attempted to sit up. He ended up half-kneeling and half-sitting as he leaned against the wall for much needed support, it was very difficult with a beam spearing him and it made it impossible to sit against the wall. He had to get it out.

Shakily he raised the wand and turned it inward awkwardly to aim at the beam sticking out of his abdomen, he tried to spit out the blood but so much of it stayed stuck to the inside of his mouth he wasn't sure how much it helped, it wouldn't stop pooling in his stomach until he got the beam out anyway. Watching his scarred hand tremble before him, he started to wonder about whether he could even cast this spell. If you don't you're dead, a voice in his mind told him coldly and he shivered, he already felt completely chilled through to the bone, even his sweat felt like ice.

"Hope you fail and die!" Whit offered cheerfully, grinning and giving him a peace sign.

Trying to brace himself, Lawson wrenched his wand and tried to say the spell. A scream escaped him as the bar ripped through him, clattering loudly to the ground on the other side of… wherever the hell he was. He struggled to breathe through the pain, darkness trying to drown him and drag him unconscious, beautifully dead unconscious. The pain was so bad.

"Why are you trying so hard to stay alive?" his mother's voice questioned icily and Lawson's eyes snapped back open, feeling tears as he fought to stay awake, "No one actually wants you to be alive, no one has ever wanted you to be alive. No one."

"It's just because he's a coward," Whit told her as Lawson touched his free hand to the hole in his chest and feeling the blood pouring out between his fingers, he needed to stop the bleeding.

He leaned back against the wall and tried to mumble the spell, focusing on performing the correct wand movement like he'd done for that Auror- he'd practically saved that guy's life and they'd just thrown him in a pit to die! Bastards. He supposed that's what he got for helping people, they were always going to just fuck you over in the end.

Lawson gasped as he felt the spell connect, it was as if he'd just pressed ice into his stomach. He shuddered, he already felt like he was freezing from the inside out, which was a sign he'd already lost way too much blood. It didn't help him stay awake though, his body craved unconsciousness but his mind knew better.

"It won't last forever, you know?" Whit pointed out and he stopped his head from nodding to look back to her, "You need real medical attention or you're still going to die."

"I don't know about medical attention but New Azkaban does have an infirmary," Sly added, Lawson blinked and saw his son standing there too with his arms crossed, a confident smirk on the face that should've aged since the last time he'd seen him, "It has to be stocked with some medical supplies."

"That would buy him time," Whit conceded, "He's in dire need of Blood-Replenishing Potion."

"Too bad he's too weak to get up, it's absolutely pathetic."

"So close and yet so far."

"At least we get to watch him die."

"I hope it hurts even more then the pain right now."

Lawson blinked his eyes back open, he had to at least try to make it. His head lolled weakly as he tried to get his bearings, straight up he could see the sky with a hint of color as the dawn started to touch the world, a bloody dawn he was sure. He didn't think the Aurors had been kidding when they said the Shadow Master had smashed New Azkaban into the ground, they were pretty far down and he could see the prison folding in above him- they had probably helped to break the fall now that he thought about it, bouncing off them as he fell would explain why he felt battered.

He could make out cells with bars bend and twisted like pipe cleaners, mangled bodies and misplaced limbs were mashed into their cages, smashed up when the prison had been. He found it hard to pity them, he was sure not all of them were that bad but the interactions he'd had had been that bad, the Aurors usually didn't bother to interfere and so some prisoners in particular he had wished were dead. Still, he wasn't in a hurry to see the gory details, he'd had enough of that. He thought some prisoners might even still be alive, if the occasional moans and pleas for help were anything to go by. He wondered if any would last until help arrived, he wondered if his 'wife' would be one of them, he wondered if she was still singing the Shadows' praises now.

Pushing those thoughts aside, he lowered his head. He thought he was still on the ground floor, the infirmary had to be around here somewhere. With great effort, he pushed himself off the ground and struggled to get to his feet, hugging the wall for support as his legs wobbled weakly beneath him. Standing made him feel sick, whatever was left of his stomach was churning nauseously. He may have temporarily stopped the bleeding but that didn't mean he hadn't already lost a lot of blood, the pain was also still really bad. He had to do this though, he was dead if he couldn't.

"You're dead," Whit insisted as he tried to get his bearings and not listen to them, he had to focus right now.

"Just give up," Sly agreed as Lawson started down the corridor he thought, guessed and hoped was the right one to get to the infirmary.

"Just give up and die."

Lawson stumbled forwards feebly, he was dizzy and staggering so badly he feared he would fall even with one hand gripping at the wall while the other grasped at his wound. He lurched with every step, swaying so unsteadily he thought he might throw up while darkness swarmed his vision threatening to drag him to death. Pain was his tether to consciousness, it spasmed through his movement and kept making him blink back the dark and the urge to vomit.

"You deserve the dark.

"You deserve to die."

"Why are you even trying to survive?"

He just focused on putting one foot in front of the other, he struggled to see with the dark and wasn't even sure he trusted his eyes right now. Ahead the corridor stretched out and twisted as if it had been rotated, it was uneven and he wasn't sure if he was walking on the floor or the wall, both were identical concrete. It might be because of the damage to the prison, might be his own mind, he had no idea.

"You'll never make it, there's no point trying."

"Just lie down and die."

"Die like you deserve."

Lawson stumbled, almost tripping and falling because the ground was so uneven and slamming into the wall. He leaned against it for a second, trying to breath and blink away the encroaching darkness, he could feel his legs literally shaking beneath him. He had to press forwards, he put one foot in front of the other and tried to grab the wall for support before realizing it was a door frame. The door itself was most definitely at an angle, almost falling off its hinges because of the damage to the frame. The whole thing bowed and the steel door had been pushed out of its place, he saved him having to unlock it. He picked his head up and noticed there were letters above the door that hopefully said infirmary:

IVEI1QNABJ

Close enough.

"Fucking retard," Whit complained at him.

He shuffled forward and pushed the door open, leaning against it with his shoulder to make it easier and stumbled into the room. There was a lone table bolted into the ground much like the interrogation room which was probably why that was fine, everything else was a smashed mess in the corner, looked like the remnants of a couple of beds and maybe chairs? He just knew beds because the broken mattresses bent back like their spines had been snapped, they were being impaled by pieces of the frame.

The medical supplies cabinet was built into the wall too so thankfully was also in place, he didn't like how small it was though- like two muggle lockers. In fact that reminded him, it would be locked. He stopped a few feet directly in front of it and held out the wand, practicing he wrist movement a few times as he tried to remember it and articulate it correctly.

"Alohomora!" Lawson cast and the doors sprang open with surprising obedience.

He stumbled towards them and was relieved to see the vials were intact, it was pretty standard to charm them to be unbreakable. They had a few shelves on the top half while there was a supply of wound dressings and cloth hanging beneath them, naturally they were unaffected. There were less supplies then he'd hoped but it wasn't unexpected, he was further disappointed as he started checking them and trying to make a mental inventory of what they had. Not everything they had would be useful to him and some things that would be useful they didn't have, it was clearly intended more for just stabilizing injuries not actually fixing the problem. Like there was nothing for internal injuries, nothing that would even fix the entry and exit wound because it needed regrowth not just repair- there was nothing that would've helped that Auror's brain damage either.

There was a small vial of Strengthening Solution which he downed immediately, he was going to need all the energy he muster to have a chance of survival. They also did have Blood-Replenishing Potion at least, it was still only a small supply which was again clearly just geared towards keeping people alive before getting more serious treatment but better than nothing. He took whatever was useful to him and carried it back over to the table, the table he saw his children were standing around now.

"Don't you love us, Daddy?" Whit questioned of him as he put down the supplies.

"Of course," Lawson couldn't help but insist, his voice weak and hoarse and the taste of blood in his mouth still nauseating, "Of course I love you."

"Then why won't you die?" Sly queried.

"We'd really like for you to die, Daddy," Whit agreed.

Turning back to his supplies, he took mouthful of the water bottle to try washing the blood out of his mouth, spitting a bloody glob onto the floor. His mouth wasn't perfect clear but he didn't want to risk wasting more water on it, cleaning the wound was more important because it got infected he was super fucked. He took a swig of Blood-Replenishing Potion - he'd have to guess the correct intervals to take it at – before taking off the tattered threadbare prison shirt to make it easier to get at the wounds, it was almost as cold without the shirt as it was with it. He looked down beyond his xylophonic ribs at the injury, roughly the size of his hand he thought.

He just had to clean, sterilize and bandage himself up... Simple. He took the water bottle and poured some of it over the wound on his back as best he could, shuddering as the cold liquid ran down his spine and quickly did the same with more accuracy on his stomach. He poured the last of it onto a cloth he'd also gotten from the cabinet – they had had several – to wipe away any remaining blood around the wounds, he then used a dry one to wipe away the wet. Now for the hard part.

Lawson swallowed and picked up the shiny bottle of Antiseptic Potion in one hand, he put his free hand on the table to brace himself. Finally, he reached back and started to pour the potion on the entrance wound in his back and immediately any concern of missing the wound evaporated quickly. He screamed and slammed the potion back down on the table for safety as the pain from the wound increased tenfold, if it had hurt before it felt like he'd lit it on fire now. His trembling legs tried to give way but he resisted the new darkness dancing around his vision, he could take it.

He wobbled there for a minute, breathing heavily as the stinging agony gradually numbed. Unfortunately he wasn't done torturing himself yet though and picked up the potion once more, not giving himself time to hesitate as he poured it with even more pain-inducing accuracy over and into the stomach exit wound. He screamed again and then screamed again as it shot through him, lancing through him like he'd been stabbed again except with something spiked. The bottle dropped to the ground as he fell to his knees, gasping and gripping the table for dear life to stop himself from falling completely.

He grit his teeth, waiting as the pain gradually receded to be more bearable and he could open eyes he hadn't realized he'd closed again. He knew it probably felt like it lasted longer than it actually did but that didn't really help. Finally it faded enough for him to fumble for the bandages, pressing the gauze into the wounds as hard as he could bring himself with the bolt of pain it caused and awkwardly wrapping the bandages around his midriff as tightly as he could, the more secure the better. As his spell started to wear off he'd begin to bleed again, the bandages would be essential in stemming the blood flow until he could get proper healing. He pulled his shirt back on, took another swig of Blood-Replenishing Potion and just sat there on the ground, leaning against the table for support.

"I'm glad that fucking hurts," Whit commented and Lawson reopened his eyes, seeing his kids had moved in front of him again.

"You deserve the pain," Sly agreed, folding his arms as the pair looked down on him disapprovingly.

"Don't even think of taking that Pain-Relief Potion."

"We want your death to be painful."

"Why are you being so mean to me?" Lawson questioned of them unhappily.

"Because we hate you," Whit scoffed readily.

"Duh," Sly agreed with a roll of his eyes, "We always hated you."

"Everyone hates you."

"You're worthless."

"Do something useful for once and die."

"The world will be a better place."

"Just leave me alone," Lawson sighed and rubbed his temple, he did still actually have that headache.

"Telling your dead children to leave you alone?" Whit wondered and Lawson jolted as he heard an odd clanging sound back the way they'd came, "What an asshole, most people would be happy."

"You're the worst father ever," Sly agreed but Lawson was distracted by the sounds.

"Shut up!" Lawson hissed at them and they paused to listen.

"Sounds kinda like footsteps."

"Maybe it's the Aurors come to kill you," Whit pointed out proudly, smirking as she folded her arms.

Feeling fear sinking in again, Lawson struggled to his feet, snatched the wand back before staggering over to the cabinet. For once being a bag bones came in handy, he felt like a child again as he pressed himself into the bottom below the shelves and pulled the door closed. It made his heart start to pound in fear at the enclosed space but he tried to trick his mind by gazing out of the slits. He could definitely hear footsteps, though he also thought they sounded wrong somehow and… was that screaming he could hear?

"A grown man cowering in a cabinet," Sly wondered from outside, his words drowning in disapproval.

"You're pathetic," Whit spat at him much closer and he almost fell out of the cabinet in shock as he saw she was hiding in there with him now.

He was considering opening his mouth to defend his actions when he had to resist the urge to jump again, caught off-guard as the door burst open. His eyes widened involuntarily in terror at what he saw and he immediately clasped his free hand over his mouth, scared to make a sound, scared even that the scarce breathing he allowed was too loud, scared his own heartbeat would somehow be heard because the pummeling against his eardrums was so loud.

He was right that it had been footsteps from a person, except it wasn't a living person. Not anymore. It was one of the prisoners, the same stripped clothing he had was the most visible thing about it aside from its empty milk pool eyes which seemed to gleam even in this gloom. He wasn't sure who it had been, he definitely hadn't known this person well enough to be able to recognize them with the magic morphing them, the unusually waxy skin stretched in a way to make it unnaturally gaunt. They had clearly been crushed, the chest was all caved in with bloody broken bones sticking out and one of the arms was gone too, ending at the elbow with a snapped bone jutting out like a sharpened shank.

He'd heard the Shadows used Inferi but he hadn't expected to actually see one, it moved like a puppet not a person and in a jerky way no human would but at the same time it didn't seem remotely hindered by this nor the fatally severe injuries. He didn't doubt it was dangerous, it could probably tear him to shreds in a second flat, he wouldn't stand a chance… His stomach suddenly lurched in his chest at the sickening thought that could've been how Sly died.

As if in response to that thought, the Inferius grabbed Sly and jabbed its jutting out arm bone into his stomach as if it were a sword. Lawson jolted again and pressed his hand further against his mouth to stop himself from crying out like Sly had, he squeezed his eyes shut as the thing tore off the boy's arm though the screams rang clear in the empty halls. It's not real, he tried to remind himself firmly though he could still feel his tears running silently down against his hand.

"But is the Inferius real?" Whit wondered curiously as he started to hear movement again.

He opened his eyes, noticing it slinking away. There was no trace of Sly now. He slowly uncurled his fingers from his face, unsure now whether the Inferius was real but not unsure enough to risk his life on it. He shakily sipped on his Blood-Replenishing Potion, straining his ears and though the screams had died down he still heard movement. It was far enough away to not be in the medical room but too near to be from the surface, the sounds were still coming from inside the prison. Or whatever was left of the prison anyway.

He waited, straining his ears to hear the sounds of movement and… clanging? They seemed to be receding, getting further away from him until he was left alone in his silent little bubble. Immediately his heart began to pound again, without the distraction he was suddenly left very acutely aware that he was in a very small enclosed space.

"It's safer in here," Whit whispered to him.

Lawson nodded, well aware this was true and tried to sip on the Blood-Replenishing Potion but the anxiety continued to boil inside him, his mangled stomach managing to twist even more into knots. He could barely even move in here, there was no space, there was no light. Just darkness pressing down on him, he couldn't even breathe anymore as he was hyperventilating. He pushed his way out of the cabinet, not even caring about the pain or how loud he was being as he fell out onto the cold concrete, at least there was space here, at least there was air.

"You're pathetic," Whit complained of him as he lay there breathing heavily, "You're more afraid of irrational nothingness then an actual threat! Worthless fuck."

"Shut up," Lawson whimpered unhappily, pulling himself to his feet and shivering at the cold, "I think they're gone anyway."

"Thinking isn't knowing, Lawson," his stepfather's voice growled and he jumped, turning but saw only Whit. He swallowed fearfully.

"We can't stay here anyway, I've bought myself time but I still need proper healing," Lawson insisted, feeling more confident as he spoke, "I can die waiting for help that's never coming or go out and search for it, there's a risk of death but also a chance of success if I leave but there's no hope if I stay here. We have to leave, it's the only choice that makes sense."

"There is no 'we,'" Whit pointed out, "It's just you, Dad, you're completely alone here."

"Well then I am going, if the Inferius – if it was even real in the first place - isn't gone by now then it'll never be gone and I'm dead either way. Better die trying then die doing nothing… Right?"

"I don't care."

Lawson sighed, rubbing briefly at his still aching head and taking another swig of Blood-Replenishing Potion before starting towards the door. That and the Strengthening Solution were doing their job, he had bruises still aching, cuts still stinging and pain still pulsating out of his stomach but he didn't feel about to keel over anymore. The Strengthening Solution wouldn't last forever but for now he was good, might as well take advantage of it while he could. He looked back to see if Whit was following him but saw only an empty room now, sadly he glanced at the letters above the door:

IMFIBVARY

Better…

He trudged back the way he'd came, finding it was easier leaving then arriving though he was still moving slowly because movement still tugged at the pain in his stomach. He shivered and wrapped his arms around himself, carefully continuing on and returning to the main… chamber? He'd go with chamber. He looked up and swallowed nervously, he didn't like what he saw.

They were empty. Every last cell was now vacant, there were a few scatterings of limbs and enough blood to keep a coven of vampires happy but all of the actual bodies were gone. And then the actual cells themselves now had bars bent of place, all of them giving a wide enough space for the occupant to get out. Lawson closed his eyes, why would things ever not get worse?

"Seems a little emptier then the last time we were here…" Whit commented and he looked to his left to see her standing once more, leaning against the wall with her arms folded, "I guess your Inferius friend was real after all."

"Yeah," Lawson agreed with a sigh, "If I had to guess I'd say she raised all the dead prisoners and they killed all the survivors, then she probably raised them too. The question is if she's just doing this for the prison or whether she's doing it for the whole city, if it's the latter we're super fucked instead of just regular fucked."

"I told you to stay in the locker."

"I'm still fucked if I stay! The Inferi make it even more unlikely that help is coming here any time soon, I need to get out of here."

"Uh-huh, and how exactly do you plan on doing that? The surface is all the way up there."

"Everyone else managed to get out of here, we'll just do whatever they did," Lawson informed her and surveyed the scene, it was lighter now so easier to see and he spotted what looked like hastily conjured steps jutting out the far wall, "See, Whit? We just follow that stairway to hell and we're good."

"I think you may have a fundamental misunderstanding of the word 'good' but okay, Dad, whatever you say."

"Oh hey Michael," a familiar voice offered pleasantly and Michael jolted awake in surprise, finding himself with his head on the kitchen table beside the half-drunk bottle of liquor, "I didn't know you were up this early."

"Yeah I was just… I couldn't sleep," Michael muttered sleepily, raising and rubbing his head at the same time to see Hermione was the speaker. He was reminded sadly of Rose, even in such low light, "Wait… What time is it?"

"Four in the morning, a little after," Hermione answered and he hastily shoved the bottle until the table as she approached, she was already fully dressed and scowling, "Were you drinking?"

"No…" Michael lied as she caught his eye, she didn't look convinced but he didn't want to dwell on it, "Could you not sleep either?"

"No, I was contacted because there was another attack. New Azkaban prison this time, and the surrounding city," Hermione explained grimly, breaking eye contact, "You should get dressed."

"Yeah, I'll err… I'll go do that," Michael agreed, he was only wearing pajama bottoms.

He got up, quickly dropping the glass into the sink on his way out and being careful to keep the bottle hidden by his body as he left the kitchen. Out of her sight, he snuck the bottle back into the liquor cabinet and returning to the garage where his clothes were as it was his 'room' right now. It only occurred to him after getting there that he didn't really know why he'd agreed to do it, they didn't usually have anything to do with attacks and he was still tired. He'd already agreed though so grumpily he started getting dressed, he supposed at least he hadn't had another nightmare. He pulled on some jeans, boots and a t-shirt before heading back to the kitchen, finding Hermione was now speaking with Latimer and that Ron had also joined them.

"Oh, hey Lat," Michael wondered in surprise to see his friend, "What are you doing here?"

"Varanian told me to go deal with this," Latimer answered with a yawn, for some reason Michael felt inexplicitly irritated, "Sorry."

"He's supposed to be our leader, when is he going to start fucking acting like it?" Michael shot out before he could stop himself, folding his arms crossly.

"I don't think you can really blame him for not wanting to hang out with the Aurors, plus he's busy."

"What's happening?" Cassia asked sharply, strolling into the kitchen before Michael could demand to know what exactly he was busy with because it sure as hell seemed like he was doing sweet fuck all from their perspective.

"Just another attack we were going to check out, don't worry about it."

"Yeah, Michael, why don't you go with Latimer?" Hermione suggested, "Your healing skill would likely be of us."

"Fine," Michael agreed more grumpily then he intended, still feeling pissed off with Varanian.

"Can I come?" Cassia asked.

"No," the adults shot her down immediately and she scowled darkly.

"Ron isn't allowed to come either, don't take it personally," Hermione told her before she could complain, this might've satiated her slightly but it upset Ron.

"Why can't I come?" Ron complained, "They said the attack was over."

"They said it looked over, it's still not worth the risk."

"Then you shouldn't-"

"I'm not going to the site, Michael is going with him instead and I'll be back to the Ministry HQ."

"Okay," Ron sighed unhappily and Hermione gave him a peck on the check in farewell.

"See you soon, hon."

"Guess it's just you and me, kid," Ron said to Cassia as the rest of them headed out, the girl was folding her arms crossly.

Michael briefly checked on the injured on his way out, making sure they were still stable when he left them. Outside, Hermione took them by side-along apparation since she knew where they were going, Michael wasn't sure he'd know where they were going even if he'd been told. He knew places were being attacked but he still hadn't expected to be greeted by the sight of a city leveled to the ground, pieces of buildings were still standing but most of it was just an outline of destruction beneath a bloody sky. He kind of regretted not just staying in bed.

They were only on the outskirts and they weren't alone, Harry Potter was speaking to a short rattish man with a limp arm and a bloody head wound. Further off he saw some kind of family, some medi-wizards were taking care of some injured Aurors. Naturally it was Harry they approached though Michael was more focused on the injured guy, he was sitting on some rubble while Harry was standing looking rather irate.

"-I mean how can you lose a prison?!" Harry was saying, glowering at the shorter man who looked rather irritated himself, "You had one job, Arnett, and- Oh hey."

"Hi Harry," Hermione offered, "Just dropping off these folks from Gray, I'll speak to later at the debriefing."

"Want some help with your arm?" Michael offered to Arnett whose expression had switched to one of surprise.

"Err… Sure," the Auror agreed.

Michael crouched by him, getting out his wand to check the head injury first while Harry started conversing with Latimer about the events. He half listened as he focused on diagnostics, though still learning some of the Aurors had been possessed by Specters once the attack started which was both how Arnett had been injured and how they'd apparently lost track of where the prison was in the chaos. On the bright side, the head wound looked worse than it was. He had a concussion but it was mild, not too serious, and the skull was intact.

"So are you guys really from Gray?" Arnett wondered curiously.

"Of course we are," Michael snapped more testily then he'd meant to, healing the gash regardless.

"Yes, they are our allies now," Harry added, briefly distracted from his conversation with Latimer and Michael realized Hermione had left at some point while he'd been healing, "Gotta be more inclusive."

"Neat," Arnett offered while the others went back to talking and Michael started checking the arm, he sighed in annoyance, "What?"

"This is a pretty simple break, you really couldn't heal this?" Michael complained at him, which seemed to sour the Auror's mood as his beady brown eyes glowered irritably.

"I'm an Auror not a Healer."

"Fine," Michael grumbled, feeling irritated himself as he went back to repairing the arm along with some more minor wounds he'd acquired, "You're going to need some aftercare potions but you'll need a qualified Healer to provide and prescribe those, just something to properly repair the… You know I'll just go ask those guys if they have a potion for it."

"Thanks," Arnett offered more kindly, testing his healed arm as Michael left him to it and went over to a medi-witch was putting the other Auror on a stretcher while the medi-wizard was tending to the female Auror.

"Hi," Michael greeted them with an attempt at a smile, trying to be more pleasant as he explained the situation to her, "So do you have any of that?"

"Not anymore, I already used it on this man," the medi-witch told him, nodding to the unconscious Auror as she levitated the stretcher, "The brain damage was quite severe, he was incredibly lucky someone stabilized the wound until we could get to him. I can get you some if you wait here though, I need to drop him off for transfer and they should've brought more supplies."

"Thanks," Michael offered as she levitated the man away towards a large white tent which had been erected. He fidgeted idly, he thought it would be rude to interfere with the other medi-wizard so decided to address the female Auror to kill the time, "Nice job with stabilizing your buddy."

"What?" she wondered in surprise, her long-lashed eyes widening, "That wasn't me, I don't know anything about healing."

"Oh," Michael muttered in disappointment, so much for trying to find something in common. Stupid Aurors and their stupid not-knowing-healing.

"One of the others fixed him up, Arnett I think."

"Wha-"

"Here," the medi-witch interrupted, distracting Michael from his mild confusion and he noticed she was carrying some kind of satchel – identical to the one both she and the medi-wizard had strung around their shoulders - as well as a small vial. He offered his hand to take the vial but she preceded to hand him both.

"Um… what is-"

"It's a medical kit," she explained and Michael flipped it open, seeing it contained numerous vials of different potions as well as some bandages, "We carry them with us all the time, I thought it might be useful to you."

"This seems very useful, thank you," Michael confirmed gratefully, how often had he had just a wand when it needed potion-care? "Though are you sure it's okay to just give me one?"

"Well you're Gray, aren't you? We're supposed to be working together, sharing resources and stuff so why not? Like I said we all have them, it's pretty standard for medi-wizards. Just make good use of it, the more lives we can save."

"Yeah…" Michael mused, an image of Rose dying flashing in front of his eyes again as he closed the satchel and slung it over his shoulder also, "I'll do my best."

The medi-witch gave him a kind smile before turning away to go over to the family further off, if Michael didn't know better he'd say the boy was eying the Aurors with fear, he supposed any kid would be terrified after surviving their home being razed to the ground. Putting the child out of his mind he headed back over to Arnett who was having his face snogged off by a very curvaceous Auror, that or she was trying to suck his face off at the mouth.

"Blythe, get back to the perimeter," Harry growled at her as she pulled away, she had night black hair and bright pink lips, "We need to locate the prison, the last thing we want right now is some of them PAW nutbags getting out when the Shadows need to be our only prioity."

"I told you, we secured them," Arnett insisted distractedly as Blythe turned, blowing him a kiss before disapparating with a loud crack.

"And I told you to guard the damn prison."

Lawson made his way up the steps awkwardly, aside from being pretty awkwardly made he was just constantly torn between the urge to go quickly because he was on borrowed time and the urge to go slowly because of the pain climbing stairs was causing the hole in his gut. In the end it was a lot more grueling then he had expected and he finished up the Blood-Replenishing Potion but he made it back to surface, to the bleeding sky.

He sighed, shivering at the breeze now he was above the sheltered pit of the former prison as he scanned the ruined landscape. The city was kind of like a dump except less garbagey now, the Shadow Master had razed the place to the ground. It was quiet now, there was no screaming which was worse than the chaos of last night, at least there had been life not this silence. Just empty silence.

He didn't see any people but he didn't see any sign of the Inferi either, he wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. The dead Aurors' bodies were gone. All directions looked pretty much the same so he just put on foot in front of the other, arms clutched around his wound. He just wandered aimlessly in the hopes of finding people, surely he'd been down there long enough that help had started arriving for the populace of… Whereversville, he wasn't actually sure where New Azkaban was.

"What are you even going to do if you do find help?" Whit questioned and he glanced to his left to see she was walking by his side again, tucking her dark hair back behind her ears, "The Aurors want to kill you, remember? Especially now you're the last prisoner. Face it, your execution is far more efficient then to expend resources guarding you."

"That is true," Lawson confirmed unhappily, frowning but not seeing an immediate solution to his problem, "I don't really-"

Crack!

At the sound of apparation, he panicked and immediately threw himself behind the nearest clump of rubble. Immediately regretting his hastiness at the sharp stab of pain that shot through his stomach, he had to bite his tongue to stop himself from crying out.

"Idiot," Whit chided him. She wasn't wrong.

"I don't see why we have to look for this stupid fucking prison anyway," a deep male voice immediately started complaining, sounding rather irate, "It's their damn problem not ours."

"Well we're allies now, it's not like PAW breaking out would be good for the rest of us anyway," a second male voice answered much more calmly, "Besides, if nothing else it gives us the chance to look around in the immediate aftermath and that's good for us."

Intrigued, Lawson poked his head his head over the rubble to get a look at the speakers. It was two men, the shorter one seemed younger – early twenties, maybe even late teens – with cropped black hair and skin buried in pockmarks, he walked with a limp too. The taller one looked older, his hair was a tangled mess of brown shades threaded with gray and his face had a lot of stubble as well as a scar through a golden eye. He wore casual muggle clothes, unlike the other who had black robes, including a t-shirt which showed off both decently muscled arms as well as horrible scars from burns on one arm. What stood out most to Lawson though, was the brown medical satchel slung around his shoulder… some kind of non-uniformed Healer? He shivered suddenly, cold creeping through his veins.

"Why?" the taller one grunted, clearly the irritated one, "What does it matter? I could see the destruction just fine from where I was standing with the Healers, you know where I was doing actual productive things."

"We want to help not do their job and information is useful," the pockmarked one said, seemingly unfazed by his companion's foul mood, "This isn't what the destruction is like in other countries."

"She's pissed, we get it!"

"But there's stuff we don't get," Pockmark insisted, actually coming to a halt and gesturing around them, "Look around us, if she could do all this then why did she toy with the Aurors? Why possess some to make them fight when she could crush them like ants? Why get bored and quit? Doesn't it seem like she could have something planned?"

"I don't know, Lat! It's too freaking early to be thinking about things that lunatics do," the other one complained, rubbing at his eyes and his companion – Lat? – frowned while Lawson continued to shiver, internally debating what he should do.

"Is that alcohol on your breath?"

"No!" the taller one spat, stepping back and throwing out his hands but seemingly changed his mind, "Maybe, what the fuck does it matter? I'm of age, I can drink if I want to!"

"You can but you were trying not to," Lat pointed out, looking rather concerned but still unfazed by the other's anger. There was a long pause but Lawson was distracted, maybe he was hallucinating again or some more but he could've sworn the ground near Lat's feet just shifted, "Are you okay, Michael? You know if you need to- What the-!"

He was cut off as a scabby dead hand shot out of the ground Lawson had been watching, grabbing his foot and yanking him face first to the ground with supernatural strength. The other one – Michael? – cried out in shock and Lawson put his hand over his mouth before he could do the same, there was a burst of blood as a second hand erupted from his back.

Lawson winced and averted his eyes frantically, heart racing again as he looked over the ruined ground for more hands. Recalling the people buried under rubble he'd wondered about before, if they had perished down there they were now poised to be concealed weaponry as Inferi. He suddenly felt as if the floor was made of lava, gazing out it was as still as it had been before. If he couldn't hear a commotion with the two guys, he'd have no idea anything was different.

With that thought, he looked back to them to see how they were doing. The Inferius was now half emerged from the rubble, covered in dust with a skull caved in and a chunk of flesh clutched in the hand on its bloody arm, it was pulling itself out. Michael seemed to have freed Lat, he lying on his side coughing up blood and scrambling for his wand with one hand while clutching at his chest with the other while Michael was on his knees next to him, hyperventilating as he aimed a shaking wand at the target. He seemed to have frozen, or maybe he just wasn't sure what to do.

Lawson wasn't sure what he should do. If he was going to run then now was his best chance, he'd be back to square one though. He'd also be fucked if it spotted him and gave chase, he couldn't move very quickly nor did he have any idea how to stop it. He could just wait here and hope it didn't notice him, with any luck it'd move on when it was done killing them and he could loot that medical kit. He wasn't sure if it would leave though, if it didn't he was just stuck waiting for help that would never come or for it to notice him and tear him to shreds, whichever came first.

"Or you could help them, you worthless fuck!" Whit hissed at him angrily.

"But I don't…" Lawson started to point out he didn't know how to help when an idea did occur to him, he raised his wand in his left hand, "Wingarb- Wingard Lev- Wingardium Leviosa."

He aimed the spell at the rags the Inferius wore as it surfaced, attempting to lunge at the others. But it didn't. It tried to move just as Lawson tried to levitate it, both failed and instead it just kind of stayed in place there. He could feel it fighting his spell though, pulling so forcefully he felt as if it was going to rip his arm out. It was going to win, he couldn't hold it forever and he could already feel his strength fading, as well as his resolve. What if it was only after them and he just incurred its wrath? Michael still wasn't doing anything so what would happen when it-

As if in answer to his thoughts, Lat finally succeeded in grabbing his wand and jabbed it towards the creature. A burst of violent flames emerged from tip, engulfing the Inferius in an intense inferno. Lawson lowered his wand as he felt it stop fighting, not sure if it gave up or if the rags had simply been incinerated. At any rate, a smoking pile of blackened bones were what dropped back to the ground. He looked around fearfully for more hands or shifting ground, still nothing.

"Hey Whit, did you see that?" Lawson said to his daughter, grinning weakly, "I helped."

"The other dude's the one who torched that thing," Whit scoffed, crossing her arms in disapproval and his spirits deflated a little, "You did fuck all, those guys didn't even notice you existed. You're useless."

"Lat!" Michael cried, his anger replaced by fear and Lawson looked back to see Lat had keeled over, the last of his consciousness probably drained at the very least.

It seemed to have snapped Michael out of whatever his issues had been, he was now scrambling to help his friend. This Michael definitely seemed to be some kind of Healer though, he immediately started to tend to the wound with a practiced – albeit still shaking – hand. How skilled or professional he was, Lawson had no idea, but he still appeared to know what he was doing. This was it, his best chance at getting medical attention.

"Come on, Lat, stay with me," Michael was mumbling unhappily, "Not like this, please not like this."

Lawson got to his feet nervously but Michael didn't notice, he was at angle with mostly his back facing him and seemed far too distracted by what he was doing regardless. Trying to swallow his nerves, Lawson started making his way over to them. Michael continued to not notice him.

"H- Hey?" Lawson called out, making an effort to speak up as his voice was still rather hoarse. Michael jolted in surprise and jabbed his wand at him, Lawson held up his hands and saw the older man scowl in confusion. Up close, Lawson realized he had heterochromia, his other eye was hazel not gold, "Won't borry, I'm not goning to hurt you. I jusk helped you, didun't you see?"

"No," Michael scoffed, looking even more bewildered before quickly going back to tending to his friend, trying to stem the blood flow.

"Told ya," Whit offered and Lawson saw she was beside him, swaying back and forth smugly on the balls of her feet. He ignored her and lowered his arms as he tried to move closer again, Michael again aimed his wand at him.

"Stay back!" Michael barked at him and Lawson's hands went back up, "Whoever the fuck you are, whatever the fuck you want just leave me alone, I'm trying to save my friend right now and-"

"I can help!" Lawson insisted desperately, the other man continued to look dubious, "I know the healing, halving someone to stemn the bleeding would make it a lot easier to treat then injury, dom't you think? I know to help, I can heal. If you really want your yriend to live this is the best way… and all I aant in return is after he's safed you heal me cause I'm prutty fucked righnt now."

"Maybe," Michael growled but lowered his wand, Lawson lowered his hands slowly but was unsure to continue his approach while Michael went back to Lat briefly. He looked up again with a look of annoyance and jerked his wand, gesturing for Lawson to approach, "Well come here then, you can't fuck help from back there!"

"Sohrry," Lawson offered as he came over, kneeling down beside Michael who had gone back to pouring over the wound. Not that dissimilar from his own except the hole was in his lung, Michael had already conjured a magical bubble around the nose and mouth to help with breathing. Lat looked whiter then a ghost who'd died in their wedding dress, he was barely breathing despite the magical assistance.

"Take over from me while I look for the potion to counter the Dark Magic," Michael commanded and Lawson raised his hand to comply before Michael abruptly grabbed it, he whimpered fearfully at the painfully tight grip and glanced at him. Michael lowered his voice, "If you hurt him or if you're lying about being able to do this and he dies because of you then I am going to kill you, do you understand me?"

Lawson nodded readily, wondering idly if it was as normal to be threatened with death for most people as it was for him. Reluctantly Michael let him go and Lawson rubbed at his wrist, now adding to the minor assortment of aches he was still suffering from in addition to the headache and gaping stomach wound. Michael started looking through the satchel as Lawson attempted to cast the right spell, the incantation was simple enough for him and he managed the wand movement on the second try. He was glad Michael hadn't seen him fail the first attempt, he thought that'd make him mad and spared a glance at him on that thought. For some reason, he was trying to read the labels on the vials in the satchel.

"Fourth thon the right," Lawson told him, Michael threw him a confused look and Lawson averted his eyes back to his task. Lat was bleeding from multiple places, he had to keep moving his wand to keep them all covered.

"How'd you know that?" Michael wondered as he brought the vial over.

"I know potions," Lawson shrugged as Michael poured the potion into the wound, there was a hiss as it connected with the Inferius' Dark Magic and steam started to rise out as it took out the taint, "And I know its spusosed to be thick and purple and it causes those black spleckles on the inside of the glass."

"I'll have to remember that," Michael muttered thoughtfully as he put the empty vial back, waiting for the steam to finish, "Alright so… what's your name again?"

"Lawson."

"Law- Really?" Michael wondered incredulously, "You're a criminal and your name is Lawson?"

"I didn't pick ny mame!"

"Well whatever, my name is Michael by the way," Michael told him even though Lawson had already figured that out for himself, "Now that's done I'm going to start healing specific points that are bleeding the worst so when I saw hold for an area, do that. Okay?"

And so it went on. Michael giving basic instructions to aid the treatment of his friend while Lawson obeyed without question, it was a little more intense and advanced then he was used to but he sure as hell didn't let Michael know that and he managed. It was a good thing the tasks got simpler the more time passed though as Lawson could feel the Strengthening Potion starting to fade, concentrating was getting more difficult and the spell stopping his own insides from bleeding out would also slowly expire. He needed healing, he was feeling worse every passing second now.

Lat got lucky, getting the Dark Magic out of his wound so soon probably saved his life. Though it was still a long way to full recovery, he'd be bedridden until his lung regenerated which would take a few weeks to a few months depending on the quality of the tissue regeneration potions. And that was assuming there were no complications, he'd lost a lot of blood too. But that didn't matter, he was stable for now and his bargain had been to do that not weeks of long-term recovery.

"Okay, is okay," Michael said, letting out a long relieved breath and hanging his head, "He's going to be okay."

"Yeahs. So it's my turn now," Lawson pointed out and Michael looked back up, oddly looking a little surprised, "I said I'd help you if you helped me after and you agreed, remeneber?"

"I remember and I will help you, I promise," Michael assured him as he started packing up his satchel, slinging it back over his shoulder, "Just after I drop off Latimer."

"What?! NO!" Lawson screeched in panic, jumping to his feet as Michael did, "You said you'd help me- you even jusp promised you'd help me!"

"Did you listen to what I said?" Michael complained while Lawson glared accusingly at the traitor, "I told you I'd be back to help you after I drop off Latimer, I need to make sure he's okay first and it'd probably be good to replenish some of these potions anyway. I'll come back for you."

"No, you won't!" Lawson spat angrily, frantic and frustrated and feeling close to tears, "You're just leabing me to die!"

"I said I'll be back!"

"Buth that's a lie! It's a lie and you know it! I did whad you wanted- I did the everything that you wanted, I did help to save your friends and you're just leabing me here to die!"

"I'll be back!"

"But you won't! I know beople and you just, you're jusp all the same! Same selhish and cruel, you- you yall just take everwhat that you want- and I did everything you wanded and he's gohing to live- and we had a deal and you're jill tust leaving me to rot!" Lawson yelled back lamely as his argument became a jumbled mess, clutching at his head miserably. Annoyed both at his own inability to articulate his words and at humanity in general, at life in general, "I gwas good! I helbed!"

"Look Lawson, I said I'll be back," Michael insisted, sounding exasperated and Lawson saw he was now kneeling by Lat's – or Latimer? – body again, except this time poised to escape, "Just be patient and wait."

Crack!

"Well he's not coming back," Whit scoffed in amusement as Michael disapparated himself and his friend.

Lawson gave a cry frustration and kicked angrily at a stone on the ground, crying again in pain as he potentially broke his toe because the stone didn't move as it was apparently part of larger stone beneath the rubble. He buried his face in his hands, resisting the urge to cry at the unfairness of it all. He'd been good and he'd still been fucked over, just like the Aurors. People just sucked.

"Goddamn it," Lawson muttered, letting out a sigh and lowering his hands, "I can't believe I wasted all that time helping."

"It's your own fault for trusting him," Whit pointed out as he started walking in a random direction which hopefully wasn't the one he'd came from, "I mean, since when did people keep their word?"

"I know," Lawson agreed unhappily, plodding along mechanically while each step pained his injury even more than before, "I'm damned if I do and I'm damned if I don't since I need someone else's medical skill to save me."

"Yeah, you're dead seven ways from Sunday no matter how you slice it."

"Pretty much."

"Then why are you still walking?"

"I don't know, Whit," Lawson admitted truthfully, "It's just hardwired into me to keep fighting, I guess. Maybe I'll get lucky and find other people, maybe I'll just drop somewhere but until I die I can't do anything else except keep putting one foot in front of the oth-"

Lawson was cut off as he instead found himself falling as he tripped over some rebar, he hit the ground hard enough to wind him and then he was rolling, sharp stones and rebar punching at him as he went over them. He finally came to a halt gasping for breath, gazing up at Whit who stood over him laughing hysterically, doubling over in amusement.

"Or you could just roll like a fucking idiot!" Whit pointed out, still laughing but as Lawson went to tell her to stop he realized that beyond that he heard more sounds, sounds akin to voices…or maybe screaming?

"Shut up!" Lawson hissed at her, pulling himself weakly into a sitting position, "I think I hear people..."