Malfoy Amongst The Chaos

Farewell Sokovia

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3rd Person

The Sokovian Ministry of Magic was in complete shambles. The witches and wizards at the head of it were duped by the muggle war to say the least, they had no idea what was causing it, how to stop it, or even how to acknowledge it. They had become entirely negligent of their fellow magical people, leaving purebloods and muggle-borns alike to live in devastating poverty and in towns and cities amongst muggles. Those of them that survived, of course - and of those, there were not many.

Albus Dumbledore had apparated into a city in the South of Sokovia to find a potential survivor - a survivor, who he was told, was not like the others.

The streets around him were littered with rubble and overturned cars, some were on fire, with flames stretching from the smouldering metal like lots of serpentine fingers, others were simply ruined beyond use and lay in pieces amongst the battlefield of streets; thick, ugly smoke curling endlessly along the night-darkened roads and into the deep sleeping sky beyond. He wondered how any person could live in such a place, how it was even possible that a child could grow up here at all. But like he had been informed, the girl he was looking for was not a normal child - not even for a young girl born to two magical parents.

Unbeknownst to Oleg and Iryna Maximoff, when they had birthed their twins 10 and a half years ago, the baby girl they had brought into the world was a particularly unique hybrid witch, unlike any other seen before. The power, if it had been correctly identified, could level cities, control minds, disembowel ministries, rewrite reality and override all traditional magic. It could destroy the world completely and create a new one in its place if the wielder was so inclined; it was a powerful, versatile chaos, and it was contained within one person. It was potentially the biggest threat to mankind, magical and muggle alike, in almost a decade - Albus did not believe that she was more of a threat than Voldemort, despite what his fellows in The Wizengamot said, but there was no disputing that a high level of danger did  come hand in hand with her existence and the evils it would attract.

But she was just a child, Albus reminded himself as he turned a corner and onto the street housing the collapsed apartment block he was looking for. Just a child - and she needed protecting, her magic hiding, and a new place to call home.

Dumbledore slowed to a stop, his cloak billowed in the slight breeze of the March night, his long, silver beard waving to the right alongside it. The moonlight gleamed on his half-moon spectacles, behind which two bright blue eyes pierced the night, his face was wary as he surveyed the building opposite him.

The building's structure was barely standing, the entire northern corner of it no longer existed and gaped openly at the destruction left behind. The bomb shells had sliced into the building, collapsing ceiling after ceiling and subsequently crushing its inhabitants; small embers of fire flickered from within the rooms and devastated livelihoods burnt away without a trace of remembrance.

A slight glimmer of scarlet red on one of the higher floors captured his attention immediately - Albus could tell, even from this distance, that the young girl he was seeking would be the only survivor.

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Wanda

The living room is gone. I can't find the TV that we were watching, nor the sofa that we were sat upon; everything is dark.

"Mama? Papa?"

My voice is drowned out by a howl of harsh wind, debris stir in front of my face. A glimmering barrier of scarlet shrouds me as I lay amongst the rubble, somehow on top, not underneath - I can barely breathe - barely hear - my heart beats fearfully in my chest; where is my family?

"Pietro?"

I try to stand up, but the magic around me pushes me back down. How long has it been since the bomb crashed through the ceiling? Is it too late to save them?

A sudden, lengthy whine whistles through the air and a second bombshell lands three feet from my face; I scream, and this time the barrier drops and I can move backwards. I shuffle through the chunks of sand-coloured stone, holding my hands out in font of me, tears running through the dirt on my face as I cry out for help - from anyone- anyone at all-

Crack!

I scream again as a man appears in front of me, his back to the beeping explosive. He is of my kind, his long, magenta cloak rippling in the unforgiving spring-night breeze, his wand protruding from his left pocket. 

His face is aged, but kind, and he smiles at the sight of me, gently holding out his hand. "Miss Maximoff?" He asks softly, shifting his feet, that are hidden amongst the remains of my decimated apartment, and speaking again. "I'm Albus Dumbledore, I'm here to get you out- can you stand?"

I pant hysterically and almost forget to nod. It takes me a long, drawn-out moment to even think about taking his outstretched hand; eventually hauling myself up and wiping the tears from my cheeks, despite them still falling, I ask- "H-how did you know to find me?" 

He ushers me away from the bomb that was still yet to go off and the old man smiled again. "I'm told you're a very special young lady." I kept silent. "Come on, over here-"

"But- Mr Dumbledore- my family-" I whimpered as he tried to tow me away. I couldn't help but glance back at the pile of rubble beneath which they must lay. "A-are they-"

"I'm afraid there is nothing we can do for them." Dumbledore told me gently and I sobbed into the night. It was snowing - it was snowing in March. On the streets below, the distant scatter of spraying bullets echoed through the air as battle broke out again, the sky rumbled with the muggles' flying vehicles - there was more coming. "They have moved on to the next world," the man said softly, "They are happy and safe. We need to leave them, dear."

A loud bang exploded a few blocks over and I backed into him, stumbling over a mangled candlestick - I was terrified. "Who will rescue them?" I cried, silently.

"They are not the ones in need of rescue." he replied, and I tore my eyes from the rubble - through the film of tears, I could see that he was genuine. "We will go to England." he said, answering my unasked question. "You will be safe."

I looked at it one last time, and then we were gone.

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