The Marauders - Order of the Phoenix - Part One

Fragments

The Chainwright Theater was a smoldering pile of rubble by the time the Ministry officially responded. The muggle Minister had been alerted, emergency vehicles blocked off the street that led past, rerouting muggles. Memory modifications were being made by Muggle Relations Specialists, and reports of a bombing were being reported in the muggle news.

Of course, it was actually an implosiva maximas that had actually done in the theater, not a bomb.

Alastor Moody stumped his way through the remains of the lobby. The interior wall was half gone, blast open wide to allow anyone standing in the lobby to see clear to what little remained of the stage beyond. The left loge and part of the balcony had fallen down into the orchestra and dress circle seating, the place where the balcony had split in two was a jagged mess of exposed piping, wires, splintered wood, and broken cement. Moody's eyes surveyed the mess and he grunted as he climbed over broken chairs and chunks of the gold-painted moulding that had adorned the rafters and walls but now lay crumbled over blood-red carpeting. He was honestly unsure if the carpet had always been so red or if it had been stained darker that very night.

Frank Longbottom, called back for the emergency, followed after Moody, numbly looking at the wreckage.

Where center stage had once been, there now was a crater, smoking and smelling horridly of burned wood, plaster, and a sickeningly meaty stench that made Moody shake out a handkerchief from his wand and cover his nose as he stared about at the broken bits of wood. Blood literally dripped from one shard of the stage flooring, and he peered down into the crater. Clear through to the basement of the theater, he saw, where old set pieces had been laid to rest years ago - a wooden pirate ship, a few more palm trees, and piles of rope and fabric backdrops, which sat half in ashes.

"You know, Minchum wanted to come down himself, but I told him we needed to clear his safety first," Alastor said, hearing the footsteps coming up alongside him as he stared into the gaping hole. He turned to confirm his suspicions - sure enough, Underhill had come up behind him.

"There's none of them left here," Underhill said, "The Minister's safer here than anywhere else right now. The death eaters wouldn't dare to come back to this place now." He had his hands in his pockets and was looking away as a couple mediwizards carted away a stretcher, a body covered by a thin white sheet lay upon it, and Underhill watched them carry it off.

Moody bent and picked up Fabian Prewett's wand from the floor. He held it in his hand, looking at the carving on the handle.

"It's a shame," Underhill said, stepping around the broken wood.

Moody nodded. He turned and clicked his fingers, and there was a wide-eyed Frank Longbottom by his side. "Longbottom," Mood chirruped, handing the boy the wand, "Bring this to Mungo's and see to it that Mr. Prewett gets his wand back."

"Yes sir," Frank replied, taking the wand and hurrying away. Frank was glad for any excuse to go away from the place.

Moody turned back to Underhill. "We thought he was gone months ago, but it's still shocking, of course... Edgar Bones held out hope of finding Benjy Fenwick."

Underhill glanced around at the crater and shook his head. "There were some bits of robes one of the officials found over there a way, but not much else. Nothing that close could have survived the blast... If only You Know Who had been caught up in it, too, the world would be better off. At least we got a couple of his supporters." He bent and lifted up an empty death eater's mask, which stared vacantly up at him.

Moody nodded.

Underhill sighed and threw the mask into the crater. "How is Edgar coping?"

Moody thought of the screaming. "As well as can be expected."