Mungos felt like a warzone, it had been after all and he had yet to find Helena, or reach Narcissa. He had been helping where he could. finding supplies and getting patients to the higher floors that hadn’t been affected. The chaos had died down and an air of gloom had settled and that felt worse for him. Home had been a prison but this felt similar now and he was climbing the walls. If only he could go back to the ministry, or back to the manor even. It didn’t seem, politically, he could do more today and he’d been up all night unlike Rod, he was exhausted, emotionally and physically. He sat down on an empty bed for just a moment and took a deep breath when he heard the creak of the door. “I was just---taking a minute.” he said softly, not even bothering to rise. Whoever it was would have to understand, he just needed one minute.
When she had gone upstairs with Severus to check her phone she hadn’t expected to find out about a massacre, a massacre perpetrated by werewolves. Her blood had run cold and she had fallen to the floor in a heap. All the work the Uprising had done to get people to see them as human, to get equal rights, to get the very basics of human dignity for werewolves and others. It was all lost now, after this they’d throw them all in azkaban or some kind of werewolf prison. All hope had disappeared with the rise of the moon.
Severus had told her to stay at his home, to stay inside, stay hidden and she saw the wisdom in that advice. But then she thought about all the newly turned wolves, how terrified they’d be and how alone they’d feel. If there had been someone to guide her, reassure her after she’d been turned she might not have suffered so much those first few years. With a conviction she felt in her bones but not in her stomach she grabbed a large hooded coat from Severus’s rack and headed out.
Getting to Mungo’s had been nearly impossible, there were hit witches and wizards everywhere, aurors too and there seemed to be a price on her head as well. Once inside the hospital she wasn’t sure what to do, or if she had made the right decision coming at all. The lower floors smelled so strongly of blood she found herself nauseous and had to get away from it. She ducked into what looked like a lunch area, there was no one else around and she leaned against the wall as the oversized coat hood fell over her eyes. “What. The. Fuck.” She said to no one.
remus was never in a good mood after the full moon and for good reason. he’d wake up, body aching, still tired from a night that was not at all restful. a part of him recognized he should be thankful for having the wolfsbane potion. without it, the nights he transformed would be countless times worse. knowing that still didn’t take the bitter taste out of his mouth.
the morning came and remus first heard the sound of whispers around him. he tried to blink the sleep out of his eyes, arching his back as he stretched out the tight muscles, and he was quick to realize that something was wrong. the air was tense, buzzing with a nervous energy from the people around. without a word, he reached for the pile of clothes outside of the cage he was still in, getting dressed without hesitation.
finally, he unlocked the cage and he stepped out. his gaze immediately moved to lily, his brows knitting together as he made his way to stand in front of her. “tell me what happened.” his voice was quiet, resigned. whatever it was, he didn’t want to hear it --- but he knew he had to. “how bad is it?”
As soon as she’d been released, Lily headed to the only person she could count on at the moment to be thinking rationally. With Remus and Alecto both MIA, Lily went to the other person that cared about the Uprising as much as she did; Dorcas Meadows. They had much to discuss, and given what she’d learned in both Azkaban and through her interrogation, she knew it would be helpful to them both. Lily assumed that she was already starting to investigate the situation, and while she’d been sent home to rest, she wanted to get a jumpstart on the investigation before she was meant to head back into work.
Coming up to the woman’s apartment, she gave a swift knock, “It’s Lily,” she called out, knowing there was a good chance that Dorcas was on high alert.
Green eyes narrowed into hardened slits as her partner walked into the interrogation room. Her hands instinctively curled into fits, but as they were cuffed to the table there was little she could do. The blood on her knuckles had dried, and underneath the bruises started to form. Betrayal rippled through her as she stared down the man she’d called her partner for the past year. Lily had been within her rights; she’d given an order to the civilian and his rebellion and interference was grounds for obstruction of justice. Though throwing a fist wasn’t the best way to handle the situation, it was hardly a case of obstruction of justice, and Lily would be damned if she went down without a fight.
“Where is Remus Lupin?” the man asked, and a sneer formed on her face as her suspicions were confirmed. They were using her as a scape goat to get at the uprising. “How should I know? I’ve been in Azkaban all morning, in case you forgot” Lily answered, unable to keep the bitterness out of her words. Truthfully, Lily didn’t know where he was; for this reason exactly. She’d sent him the warning, and told him to disappear for a while. Part of her hoped that he’d found Alecto, but she found comfort in the fact that she hadn’t seen her thus far - maybe she hadn’t been caught yet.
“Your witty responses aren’t going to help you right now, Evans. Let me ask again, Where is Remus Lupin? While we’re at it, where is Alecto Carrow?” he asked. Lily shook her head, giving him a hard look.
“I’ve already told you; I don’t know. I was called into the ministry early this morning, and then put into the field. You’ve been with me all morning, until you had me arrested of course,” Lily answered.
“Evans - the person you’re going to make this more difficult for is yourself” he started, “Eventually, you’ll have to confess.”
Confess. The word suffocated her as it caused a level of panic and rage to flame through her. It wasn’t just Remus they were trying to pin this on, but her as well. Lily wanted to scream at them to use their heads, to look past their blatant hatred fueled actions, and open their fucking eyes. The red head knew she was in for an even longer day. All she could do was hope that someone would know she’d been arrested and sent help.
“I won’t confess to something I am not guilty of. If you think the Uprising is behind this, then you’re already failing this investigation.”
how do you show grace when you are being led to the gallows ?? you keep a straight face when all instincts are telling you to lose composure; you clear your throat to clear the grief before you say all that needs to be said.
the wizarding world was grieving and remus wished he could do so alongside them. a part of him thought he should let all his self-possession fall; do this to show that he was only human like the rest of them. but he couldn’t and he knew this. so despite the urging in his bones to sink to his knees to lament the loss they had all suffered, he sat at a table, pen held tightly between fingers, scribbling words on a paper.
it was a struggle to do so. what could he say ?? what would make this better or at least soften the blow ?? nothing he could say or do now would change the course of this past evening. blood had already been spilt and lives had been changed for what was no doubt the worst. still, to say nothing would only make things worse. it would further fan the flames that already were licking at the uprising’s ankles.
the few people that remained at the castle mulled about. the nervous energy that had arisen this morning had yet to settle. voices whispers and occasionally a choked sob would break through the solemn din. he stared at the faces of those who still stood behind him and their cause, seeking some sort of inspiration. the paper in front of him was covered in heavy scribbles and crossed-out lines.
each minute that passed felt like an hour. each minute that passed that his voice wasn’t heard by the wizarding world was a minute wasted. the pressure on his shoulders was not causing him to work any faster, if anything it caused him to slow. there was too much at stake. to apologize could be seen as assuming culpability.
and yet ‘sorry’s rested on his tongue like a melting hard candy, all-consuming and sickly. he wished he could go to each individual family to mourn with them and offer his condolences. wasn’t that what a public figure should do ?? he hated being in this castle away from the throng of all that was happening. it felt like a cop-out, as if he was hiding from the tragedy that had profoundly gripped them all.
his fingers had cramped up by the time he had come to bottom of the paper and black ink stained the side of his hand where it had rubbed against the paper. he picked it up carefully, gingerly, reading it over. it didn’t seem like enough but he wondered if anything ever could be.
“ here. ” finally, he held out the paper to the person nearest to him. he wasn’t leaving the castle again if he did not have to --- the duty of getting his message out would fall to another. this did nothing to ease his nerves. “ get this to whoever you can. the daily prophet, a reporter, even skeeter if you have to -- ” he rolled his eyes, hardly unable to stop himself from scoffing “ -- i want everyone in the wizarding world to have heard this before the end of the day. before their dinners even. ”
to the magical community of london ---
like many of you, i woke up to hear of this tragedy after it occurred. i hope that by now you are all safe in your homes, surrounded by your loved ones. if this is not a possibility for you, i wish you strength and comfort on this difficult day. i’m sure the days to come will be trying for all but as a community we must move forward, building knowledge and comprehension to better ourselves and safeguard our futures.
surely this event has struck a chord within all.
this is an example of why we need to take more care of our citizens who are not strictly wixen. we need to ensure our werewolf brethren have the supplies they need to have a safe transformation on the full moon -- safe not only for themselves, but safe for those around them as well. this means professionally brewed doses of the wolfsbane potion and secured locations to spend the evening.
while some may claim lycanthropy negates one’s humanism, this affliction is the way many have to live. for nearly thirty days of the month, they are no different than anyone walking down the streets of hogsmeade or diagon alley. we cannot outwardly know if someone is a werewolf other than nights of the full moon and that is a fact.
why forsake them for something that was more than likely caused by factors outside of their own choices?
it is time for the victims --- the victims of the bigotry and the rampant hatred -- to gain the respect they deserve as wixen, as people.
how many people must hurt and suffer due to our society’s lack of care? i should hope the answer be none. unfortunately, some will see to this that it is not the case.
we all want to be safe. we all need to be respected. change can come. we need to reach for it now more than ever.
Severus arrived at St. Mungo's at precisely eleven forty five in the morning. He had woken up early, blissfully unaware of the events of the night before as he focused on what he thought was the task at hand - Alecto and the cure. He’d gotten sloppy, Helena had won and he’d become comfortable. He thought he knew all the steps and never thought what happened that night would ever happen. It wasn’t necessarily a bad thing for the campaign, this proved Rodolphus right in many of the things he’d said - but if this wasn’t an accident, if someone was to blame and it came back to Rodolphus in some way... No. It couldn’t. He moved in the now mostly deserted area of where the werewolves were held in St. Mungos the night before - there were no more bodies, mostly cleared of debris. He heard a shuffle behind him and he turned around quickly, his wand raising as he pointed to where the noise came from. “Ah... It’s you, I apologize... Considering everything... Can you blame me?” He said as he moved to put his wand away.
Ted was a fan of video games, storytelling weaved into a story that made you feel like a hero! You never thought of the people who you killed in the video game in the name of being a hero, you never thought of the blood as your character ran over it. It was a thrill of living in a world made by creative people that had never seen what Ted had just a few hours before. People being ripped in half, patients he knew and had just spoken to laying on the floor with missing limbs. He had been sick more times than he could count, more than he had even eaten, and he was one of the lucky ones. He walked along the halls that once were white and pristine, now covered in blood, flickering lights, and dead being carried away.
There were Aurors with people in handcuffs what were screaming, crying, confused. Werewolves now back to their human form being arrested with no idea what had happened the night before except for the clues they could gather from the chaos and fire. He couldn’t close his eyes, every time he did he saw a new face, someone he had been treating wondering if they were even still alive, or worse, the distorted and broken faces of those he knew that met the worse death than he could ever imagine. His stomach turned and he felt bile rise up once more into his mouth as he thought of his friends, of Regulus, Edgar, Lily, Dorcas, Lorcan, Evan, Lucinda, and... Andromeda. If anything had happened to her, he wouldn’t know what he would do. He had just been at Regulus’ house, having dinner while they watched TV and now...
He didn’t know what to believe. He didn’t know anyone that was a werewolf, but this wasn’t the only full moon that they offered shelter and this was the only time something like this had happened. Ted hated himself at that very moment as he felt nothing but spite for the monsters he saw ripping people apart like they were made of paper. He had come out alive, but far from unscratched. He looked as he was now, but that was a long night of Helena patching him up. A twist in their usual routine. He would he dead right now if it wasn’t for her. He felt drained, sick, shocked, and traumatized from the night before. This changed things, and Rodolphus might be right - werewolves needed to be locked away. When the full moon came when it was close... they needed more security than Mungos provided. He hated himself for it, because he was taught there were no monsters, only men, but... He knew differently now. This could never happen again.
He’d spent the past couple of hours healing people once the sun had risen, but it wasn’t enough, some people he just had to make feel comfortable while they passed. “You’ll be alright,” He whispered to the woman whose hand he had just bandaged with a piece of cloth off of her own shirt. There were no supplies, if they were, they were behind doors locked by debris he couldn’t get past. Somehow in the middle of the night, he’d lost his wand, but that didn’t even matter - not now.
“I’m sorry, I just... I need a minute,” He said as he stood up and rushed to the hallway down to his left, not a moment passing after he saw it was alone before he was hurling once more into a garbage can. The entire hospital smelled of death and blood, and no matter how much they cleaned it... he’d never get this out of his mind.
