Door-Gavroche-Dementors

[wand_wavers]

The grounds of the Riddle Manor are desolate now. Since right after Frank Bryce was found dead in the house itself, the residents of Little Hangleton... seem to have forgotten about the manor's existence. No one goes out there anymore. The boys who might have thrown rocks through the windows wheel their bicycles around and go the other way. Birdwatchers or drivers through the country take the other fork in the road.

Mist creeps across the overgrown lawn, and a single candle glows in the darkness. There are shadowy figures stationed close to the moldering house.

They are not human.

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[iopenthings]

Door crouches down, body tense, catching her breath. Something's wrong, something's strange, she knows it already. Opening should have--they should have been closer than this.

Her heart feels like it's going to hammer out of her chest--hopefully she's the only one that can tell.

Temple and Arch, but she'd hoped this would be simple.

Another quick breath and she looks at Gavroche, voice quiet, face strained.

"We're going to have to be careful, I--the magic is strange, here, and I don't want to trust to Opening until we have to."

Not 'unless'. This is too much of a snatch and grab for that.

She touches his shoulder, squeezing gently, then begins moving, as quietly as possible, toward the manor. Somewhere not the front door.

[street-sparrow.livejournal.com]

Gavroche knows very well how to be sneaky, and old habits die hard.

He follows her near-silently. Of course, against Dementors, it's debatable how much good that will do.

[wand_wavers]

A whisper of wings comes from overhead and there is mist-muffled hoot of an owl flying by.

The mist is getting thicker. Black shapes are moving in it, moving away from the shadows of the house.

The temperature drops rapidly.

[iopenthings]

Door shivers, wrapping her arms around her midriff, trying to stay warm.

Goosebumps rise on her arms, and the hair on the back of her neck prickles.

Whatever is happening, it can't be good.

"Stay low, Gavroche, and stay quiet."

She's barely breathing, now, voice almost inaudible.

"And--is there anything you can do to help us hide?"

Some things you never forget.

The feel of being prey is one of them.

[street-sparrow.livejournal.com]

Very quietly, he says, "There are cloaking spells. Hang on."

He starts to mutter under his breath in the Speech, helped along by Kennis, for one of the more comprehensive invisibility spells. It'll take energy, but that can't be helped.

[wand_wavers]

The Dementors swoop in on the figures moving through the shadows.
Their master has been given them free reign to Kiss whoever they catch, and they are hungry.

There is a strange crackle of magic in the air, but the Dementors know where they are. They can smell them.

[iopenthings]

It's cold. So very cold, and despite the five layers she's wearing, Door is wishing for a few more.

Heavy velvets would not go unamiss, quite frankly.

Velvets.

blood on her mouth on her mouth and his tongue and no and no and no

There can't be Velvets here, there can't. Or Moors, either. This is Above--Above and elsewhere and the dangers are different.

Worse.

Temple and Arch, why did she think they could do anything. How could she ever have dreamed that she could save Tom where he couldn't save himself. How could she dare----

It takes a great deal of effort not to bury her face in her hands, not to curl up on the ground, eyes closed, safe in the dark.

Safe and alone and cold in the dark.

[street-sparrow.livejournal.com]

Gavroche starts to shiver, and he's never felt despair like this. Not even when Meg died, heartbroken though he was.

He snarls at the oncoming Dementors and, helped by Kennis - who isn't precisely mortal - he changes tack.

Time to bring the sunlight.

[wand_wavers]

Their souls smell delicious.

The little soul is full of youth and, oh, is that magic? Intoxicating magic, something new, and he's proud of it, isn't he? He will make a fine meal.

The bigger soul is lush and ripe and full of love, which they will devour.

The Dementors grasp at the bigger soul's outer coverings as the little shivering soul stands against them.

Oh, this is grand. This is what they were made for.

...and they are so very hungry.

[iopenthings]

She should be struggling, she knows she should be.

She always has before.

But this is--there's no point.

It's done. It's over. Tom's gone and he's not coming back. Something took him-- maybe these things, maybe something else--and it doesn't matter.

Nothing matters.

It's all futile and hopeless and useless and she should just lie down right here and wait for the--

No.

No.

She'll keep her feet if it's the last thing she does.

It very well might be.

[street-sparrow.livejournal.com]

"You leave her alone."

The spell's ready. And with a final word, from his raised hands comes a flood of bright light.

[wand_wavers]

The Dementors pull back, shrieking, their gaunt arms shielding what could be eyes.

The light hurts. The light always hurts.

[iopenthings]

Door never thought she'd be grateful for light--sun-derived or not--but she is.

Temple and Arch, she is.

And then her jaw tightens and she grabs Gavroche's arm, bending over to Open a door in the ground and dragging the boy through.

It's time to pull back and regroup.

Time, perhaps, to actually have a plan.

She'll get Tom back if it kills her.

Or almost anybody else.