Andromeda Black (dromedablack) wrote in __incendio,
Andromeda Black
dromedablack
__incendio

  • Mood:
What: Sibling rivalry, of sorts
Who: Bellatrix and Andromeda
When: During the Hogsmeade attack

It was meant to be a simple task. Get downstairs, set an alarm, get back upstairs. That was it. Andromeda repeated this to herself as she gave Ted a weak smile (too afraid of hurting him to risk a kiss) and unsealed the bedroom door. She had asked the shop owner to seal it again behind her, and waited in the hall to hear the charm before she ventured downstairs.

Moving carefully and keeping her back to the wall, Andy adjusted her grip on her wand nervously. Fear crowded in her throat as she edged down the steps, staring down at the still, crumpled figure in black across the room. She couldn't tell whether it was breathing. Guilt and panic flared in her chest--Had she killed the person? What would happen if the Ministry found out? Could they even find out?--but the worst of it, she realized as she swallowed dryly, was that she wasn't sorry. If the bastard had injured Ted badly, or past repair, then she wasn't sorry. It didn't mean she wasn't shaken.

Only when she'd reached the broken shop windows did Andy dare to take her eyes from the motionless heap to her left. She looked out into the street for a moment, hesitant; people were running in every direction, half-obscured by smoke, panicking. Perhaps if she could get a few more students together, she could get them upstairs, get them to relative (temporary?) safety?

A voice, male and young and clear in its cruel glee, shouted above the ruckus and drew her attention. She didn't recognize the spell he'd shouted, but a moment later she stared up, horrified, at the symbol the entire wizarding world had learned to fear. It hung in the air above a shop down the street, and as Andy gazed at it as though pinioned, a terror that had nothing to do with Voldemort flooded her like ice. Bellatrix, she realized, was here somewhere.

The very thought should have, by all rights, sent her running back upstairs. She was many things, but recklessly brave wasn't one of them; Sirius had got all those genes. Not her. She would have done it, and was indeed on the verge of casting a hasting charm and retreating to what passed for safety, if she hadn't heard a scream nearby, in the street. The voice was high-pitched and sounded like a child. 

For a second, Andy wavered; the smoke out there was thick, and she couldn't even be sure which direction the scream had come from, but compassion won out over fear of her sister. Half-aware that what she was doing was stupid, Andy braced herself and, wand held ready and close to her body, stepped out into the chaos of the street.

 
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