i am lord voldemort • Tom Riddle

Alternate Timeline: XXXVI

Lae forgot everything, except the feel of her footfalls slamming into the floor through the soles of her too-thin, Ministry provided shoes. Distantly, screaming permeated the air, both voices recognizable, though one more than the other.

"Rabastan!" Fenella gave a shrill, keening call as she struggled against an Auror tying up her limbs with a string of shining, golden rope procured out of air. "Rabastan! Someone help him!"

"What have you done to my done to my boy?" his mother cried out, somehow, impossibly knowing his fate out of dozens of other fallen and still fighting wizards, or perhaps merely hearing Fenella's despair from across the room.

"Aguamenti!" Lae commanded, aiming at the thick line of fire and the spot where Rabastan laid within it. "Aguamenti! Aguamenti! Aguamenti!"

The flame only dampened momentarily, hissing and sputtering vengefully, before exploding back to life in full force. Whatever potion Tom crafted did its job well in resisting water. Too well.

Lae reached Rabastan first, mindlessly throwing her hands into the flame to drag him out, limb after limb. Had seconds passed since he went in, or minutes?

The heat sizzled the sensitive flesh of her hands, but she kept returning them to the fire until he came completely free of it. Sweat beaded his temple, luckily wholly unscathed, same with the rest of his head and neck. His robes were only slightly singed, due to the great foresight of generations of Hogwarts faculty noticing how reckless students prone to pyrotechnics — or particularly incompetent potion's students —might need flame-retardant attire at all times. That didn't, however, protect the rest of him.

Behind them, Tom was causing all sorts of commotion, viciously cutting into the one restraining Fenella and all others close by, releasing her in the process. Lae hoped he was conscious of it, and purposely aiming his blows to avoid hitting Fenella, not that Lae could be certain with his eyes flashing the way the did. In them, she saw recompense, an ice cold fury that demanded to be sated.

Fenella crawled her way out of the binding and into a frantic run, eventually dropping down on Rabastan's other side.

"He's not waking up," she muttered, then her eyes flew up to meet Lae's, wide and roving. Her voice was rough when she asked, "Why isn't he waking up?"

"I don't know." Lae had already noticed this problem and tried all manner of rousing him, to no avail. No amount of water or swatted cheeks could get through to whatever kept him mentally out of reach.

"If he dies... if he dies, I'll kill everyone here." Fenella choked out a detached laugh, cold, yet manic. "I'll even kill you for bringing us to this place."

Lae could tell she was deadly serious. Out of concern for both her own longevity and Rabastan's, she leaned closer to further examine his injuries. "The burns aren't too bad — nothing one of my uncle's healers can't fix given time.  We can't know whether the unconsciousness is a result of the spell he was hit with, or landing poorly, but now isn't the time to figure it out. Here, you take that side, and I'll take his left. We must carry him to my uncle, so we can keep our wands free to defend and get him safely to where we can have someone patch him up." She had already lobbed one of his arms around her shoulder before having the presence of thought to ask, "You're still good to walk, right?"

"Of course," Fenella said brusquely, as if the very notion were ludicrous.

Lae nodded, and cast a wary glance over her shoulder to check on Tom. Hopefully, he utilised his frequently annoying hobby of eavesdropping and overheard the ramshackle plan. If not, well, Tom was a smart lad. He would piece it together eventually. In any case, she knew he'd follow.