Log in


augury_harry in augury_rpg

some sneaking around

Who: Harry Potter and Marcus Flint
What: Returning to the scene of the crime
Where: Grimmauld Place
When: 5am, Friday, 31 October 1997
Status: Complete

After checking to make sure Ron and Hermione were still sleeping, Harry slipped out of Fred and George's Hogsmeade shop, under the cover of his invisibility cloak. He knew, logically, that Ron and Hermione would not be happy that he was returning back to Grimmauld Place, but Hedwig was still there. That they had left her behind at all was gnawing at him and he couldn't wait any longer.

With any luck, he'd be back long before they woke up.


Harry would not be alone in his thinking, however. Yaxley and her group of Deatheaters had planned for just such an eventuality.

Marcus Flint stood in the Family Tree room, arms behind his back as he looked over the vine-like paintings which wiggled and blew leaves much like a real tree. On many branches, there we names. Marcus even recognized some of them. Ursula Flint, for one. I'm related to the Blacks... Marcus considered casually.

Marcus turned from the room and began to head into the complete mess that was left in the receiving room from the battle the night before.
Harry Apparated a ways down the street and, still under the cover of his cloak, made his way to Grimmauld Place. He passed the gate without incident and the door swung open silently at his touch.

Good then. The wards hadn't been changed yet. He could be in and out in no time.
Marcus' predatorily sharp ears, however, heard the click of the door and the eventual shutting of wood against wood. Immediately, Marcus skulked into the dark, his thick and knobby, bone white wand held up like someone holding a gun in the safe position- near his face. if it was who he hoped, any minute he would be leveling it. In anticipation, Marcus started to concentrate his hate in the pit of his belly- the fuel for a good curse.

He steadied his breathing despite the excitement cutting through him. Either Yaxley had come to check on progress, Marcus figured, or someone had just made a very large mistake.

Either possibility made Marcus smile.
Harry froze, back against the wall. He had heard the creak of floorboards somewhere in the house. Likely not far.

If he was lucky, it would be Order members, come to check on the state of things. But since when was anything ever so easy?

He slid his wand from his pocket, slowly eased up the first step on the stairway.
Marcus made absolutely no movement, allowing Harry to first come to him and drop his defenses in the calm. He even steadied his breath to the degree he was used to when he hunted animals in Michael Sheading.

His beady black eyes looked movement in the shadows of dawn. But he caught none. Only the creak of wood, which his keen ears followed to the stairs heading up.

Potter? A leap of excitement wedged in his throat as he thought the possibility of the name. Intelligence reports from the MLE indicated that Potter may have owned an invisibility cloak of some kind.

Using unspoken magic, Marcus cast a silencing charm on himself so his footfalls and the broad creaks in his area would be soundless. He would continue to wait, like a predator ready to pounce.
The creaking floorboards went eerily still. Harry sucked in his breath. Did someone know he was here already?

He glanced at the door. He could make a break for it easily enough, but Hedwig... Hedwig was still upstairs. No, he wasn't leaving her behind.

He risked another step.
In so doing, the adult body of Harry Potter revealed itself in a sneaker. Once, sure, harry fit quite well under the cloak. But he was now a tall and strapping adult.

It was exactly the break Marcus had wanted. He found it terribly ironic that the downfall of any prey was in their footfalls. They left marks. Even those camoflouged did.

Marcus did not bother to step from the darkness, he simply levelled his wand at Harry's foot and aimed a good three feet higher. His sweaty hand gripped his wand and in practiced method fell into his MLE training.

"Everte Statum." The powerful wave of force that would impact Harry would easily be enough to knock Harry off the stairs, off his feet and against the wall. Double up... Marcus heard in his ears, the words of his trainer. Marcus easily guided the angle of what would be Harry's descent.

His lip curlled and he waited for the impact before very calmly and with cold rage speaking one word. Crucio.
Harry slammed against the wall suddenly and then he was falling. He hit the floor and before he could gather himself, the world exploded in a haze of white hot pain.

He had felt this before, but nothing nothing could ever prepare someone for the pain. He doubled over, head exploding, eyes exploding, everything in a wave of agony twisting muscles flailing spasming and it hurt it hurt it hurt.
Marcus took the moment, wand out, to reveal himself. He smiled under his robe, sharp canine glinting in a lip snarl. He twisted his wand, and in so doing allowed Harry to feel as if someone was ripping him through a serrated spaghetti maker.

Marcus advanced on Harry, staring with cold black eyes down at the writhing Potter. The first thing he did was stamp so hard on Harry's hand that he could have broken fingers and then kicked his wand away. To discourage Harry going for it, Marcus renewed the twisting sensation of pure hot agony.

Harry's hand could've been broken, maybe, maybe not, but the pain was everywhere, searing and burning, and he arched his back, grit his teeth.

Couldn't think... just wanted it to stop.
With Harry's wand good and distant from his writhing hand, Marcus felt a degree of delight. He let off the Crucio, and quickly planted the heel of his heavy, steel-toed boot rather quickly into Harry Potter's face. A sickening crunch of glass from one lense echoed, and in hopes of causing a screech, Marcus pressed the full weight of his foot down and then ground.

He let up, and to make sure he kicked Harry's wand fully away.
Harry nearly choked on the sudden rush of blood that slid down his throat in a sickening waterfall. His eyes blurred, watered, then refused to focus.

His hand scrabbled on the ground, clenched around his glasses. He needed to do something. He needed to catch his breath.

Act... act...
Tempted to crucio Potter into flailing helplessness again, Marcus resisted that urge. "Whole world's against you now, Potter. Where are your friends, huh?" At the first sign of seeing Potter move, Marcus moved close and kicked Harry's limbs out from under him. "Don't try it."
Harry rose up suddenly, balled his good hand into a fist and slammed it into Flint's crotch.
If it hadn't been for the massive amounts of adrenaline rushing through Marcus' system, he would have been down on the ground screaming in a high pitched, strangled tone between puking his guts out.

But the first thing every good self-defense class tells you is, don't bother with the crotch if they're that high or crazy. You'll stop them, but you'll also just piss them off.

That was true, and while Marcus made a very entertaining noise and hunched at Harry's attack, he also was quick to respond. With a cruel wave of his wand, he sent Harry flying into the next wall and almost through it.

But he had made one mistake in his haze of pain. He put Harry right back, next to his wand.
Harry hit the wall with a loud crack, slid down and hit the floor. His hand strayed next to his wand. He grabbed it, pointed to the blurry, watery figure that was Flint.

Bastard. Stupid Death Eater bastard!

Flint's teeth clenched as in slow motion, he felt Harry's badly aimed by nonetheless effective spell tear across his thigh. His robes and trousers split, and immediately, Flint felt the wam gush of thick blood soak his trousers.

Flint gave a cry and staggered, but in his rage he retaliated. "Sectumsempra!" he knew the spell quite well himself. It was a favorite. He executed his with a wide, downward slashing motion at Harry's wand arm.

Flint's spell rebounded off Harry's shield and hit the wall, cracking the plaster and raining little white chips to the ground. Down the hall, Mrs. Black's portrait to started to scream obscenities.

"Locomoter Mortis!" Harry shouted over the din.
Watching his first sectumsempra tear a bit of a nasty gash into the wall, Marcus followed up with a second sectumsempra levelled directly at Harry's chest. Cruel, jagged cuts swished in the air to make the effect one almost serrated.

Marcus could only watch as Harry twisted and fired his spell, which caught Flint in the chest. The world went fuzzy and numb, but still keen of mind, Marcus began to work through the exercises taught to him about how to shrug off paralysis spells in due time.

"You better run, runt! Or you'll be seeing green!"
Flint's spell caught Harry in the arm. He hissed in pain, red hot blood running to his elbow and dripping to the floor. He watched for a moment as Flint hit the ground, shouting, then he turned, grabbed his glasses from the floor, and bolted up the stairway.

Had to find Hedwig.

He ran down the hall, skid into his bedroom and over to Hedwig's cage. She was laying at the bottom of it, eyes wide open, clearly dead.

Harry nearly screamed in frustration.
Marcus flexed and strained his muscles against their magically retentions, sharp hisses of breath cutting out of his nose. Kid wasn't very focused, Marcus thought as he worked against it, commenting. While always difficult to push off, it wasn't the most potent paralyzing spell levelled at him.

Free after a few moments, Flint ignored the hot pain in his thigh and limped upstairs. His footfals were heavy and hard. "Your pigeon is dead Potter!" Marcus taunted, "Everte Statum!" He bellowed, pointing his wand at the room that held the dead animal. Much of the wall shielding Harry and the dead Hedwig moved from solid, to splinters.
Harry heard the heavy footfalls on the stairs. He was in no condition to stay and fight right then. He looked around the room wildly, blurry eyes seizing on his Firebolt laying on the floor.

He grabbed the broomstick, aimed a quick spell at the window. The glass shattered, and Harry took a running start onto his Firebolt. He raced out the window and toward the sky.
Marcus watched Harry fly away, and smirked at the devastation around him. "Incendio..." He spoke, and immediately Hedwig's corpse went up in a quick gout of flame. The smell was repellent enough, but Marcus simply watched Potter fly away, knowing they would meet again.