There were many stories she had heard about the Ormond attack; some of them graphic enough to plague her for weeks every time she closed her eyes, other about how the Order Members had managed to rescue the kids. Emmeline had told her about the clowns, and Mary avoided them ever since. Just a year ago life had been different; not better, but different. She couldn’t remember how it felt to go out without thinking that she wouldn’t make it back home. And now that she was in the middle of hell, there were many things she regretted.
Mary regretted not eating and drinking more; life was too short to worry about eating enough vegetables when they sucked. She regretted not travelling more, and even though she had planned it a few times, there was always something getting in the middle. She regretted not hugging Atticus more; he was growing up so fast and he wasn’t that eleven year old kid anymore, he was a man and she had never been prouder. She regretted not visiting Minnie more often; she was her mother, blood was nothing when her heart was so full of love for the beautiful woman who had always been there for her. But most of all, she regretted not waking up next to Caradoc every single morning; they’d had way too many opportunities to make it work, they had been stubborn and stupid, and now she wasn’t sure if she would ever see him again.
It had taken one second, a tiny distraction, and she had lost him in the middle of the chaos. She hadn’t been at Ormond, she hadn’t even written about it, but as her lungs filled with dust and made it hard to breathe, she wondered if it was meant to be just as awful. For some reason she wouldn’t stop thinking about the Death Eater she had encountered, the way he stood, the way he hesitated when attacking her could have been so easy. Atticus’ face came to mind and she hated herself for it, knowing it was the confusion and the worry playing tricks on her mind.
So she had run after him, and she had ended up lost somewhere in the building, like she always did anyway, only this time there was no way out. It would have been easy if her head weren’t pounding painfully and her vision blurred, and as she reached to touch her forehead, her fingers found something warm. It was blood, her blood, and Mary tried not to panic as she was losing any sense of reality.
Screams filled the air, and Mary tried her best to help people, it was just so fucking difficult when people kept pushing her out of the way. Even so, she had always been skilled with her wand, and she wasn’t afraid of taking a few Death Eaters down with her if she had to. It was only then when she heard her name being called, in that way only Doc could call her, and she felt like she could breathe again.
“Doc!” Her legs reacted before her mind could even register what was happening, she simply ran as fast as she could go until she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him close to her. “You’re alive,” she whispered, relief washing over her. “We need to get out of here.” She had heard something about the Dark Mark and she desperately wanted to go back to a safehouse just to make sure their friends were fine. Her hand reached for his. “Doc, please, come on.”
For a brief moment he forgot about the fighting. All that seemed to fill his frame of vision was the sight of Mary Macdonald, dirt-streaked and bloodied, running towards him. She was alive. She was alive. She was here, and running towards him, and engulfing him in her embrace, and she was alive. He clutched her close, needing to feel her flesh under his palms to assure himself that this wasn’t some pain-induced hallucination. His breath came more quickly as he felt her heart beat against his own chest, as the sound of her words drifted upwards.
There were so many things he should say. Apologies and explanations and promises. He didn’t want to live another second without letting her know how much she meant to him. He didn’t care that the need to do so was due to the panic of war and the after-effect of all that he’d seen throughout the day. He needed her, and he’d been so utterly, utterly stupid, and she ought to know that.
She pulled out of his arms, and he reached for his wand, aware again of how vulnerable they were. Though it had seemed an hour since he’d called her name and she’d turned towards him, it couldn’t have been longer than a few seconds. She was reaching for his hand, and he remembered that they ought to be trying to get out. He’d forgotten the ultimate goal in his search for Mary, and his relief at finding her. He gave her his hand, but in looking at her, he noticed for the first time the blood dripping down her forehead.
“You’re hurt,” he said, and rather than following her towards the exit, he pulled her closer. His left hand still in hers, he used his right to gently push back her hair, drawing in a sharp breath as he saw the extent of her wound. “Mare, I’ve got to heal this,” he said. “We need to get somewhere quiet. It won’t take a minute, but it’s too dangerous here and - ”
An ominous creaking echoed through Level Five, causing him to break off. He looked at Mary, and for a split second the two of them were running hand-in-hand towards the stairs. He heard screaming. He saw the short wizard he’d been helping earlier trip over a body on the ground. He felt Mary’s fingers straining in his, as if every atom of her body was reaching towards an escape. He thought of Nia, and a day last winter when they’d had a snowball fight and she’d trapped him against the side of the house and pushed a handful of snow down his top, laughing hysterically at his reaction. He thought of kissing Mary, and her hands fiercely clutching at his hair.
And then there was an almighty noise, a sound as though the universe was tearing in two. He felt himself falling, and he lost his grip on Mary’s hand, and he issued a cry of pure terror because this was what dying felt like.
And then the world went dark.
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