The Last Lieutenant

New Year's

"Jesus," George grabs Draco under the shoulders and let's him drop onto the ground, hard, like his skin had burned him. Maybe it had. There are sparks coming from the end of Audra's wand and she is not all that certain of the spells she is casting. "What are we supposed to do now?"

"Nothing." She spits out the word, and Fred tries to shoulder his way between them, cut off the fight before it could start. She remembers when George used to be the one to play peace maker. Now he wants to murder sixteen year old boys and bury their bodies in the woods. "You are going to do nothing. But me? I'm going to fix it."

"How could you possibly fix this?" He gestures down at Draco, who is sprawled beneath their feet without a mark on him. Her obliviation spell was too strong, and now instead of a slightly confused Draco that she can take to the bar and ply with drinks until he forgets all about tonight. "He's going to wake up. And he'll want to know what happened."

"He won't remember!" Fred was anxious to help, but he was so out of his depth he didn't even understand the problem. "Why are we still standing here? Let's just leave him."

"She did it too strong. He's not going to wake up on his own. And don't you think he's going to wonder why he woke up in the middle of the woods, anyways? He's going to pull on that thread." His wand was out now, too, tapping on his thigh. "Who knows what he's going to unravel."

"He's not going to know anything. He won't have any questions, because everyone else will already have given him the answers." Her mind is moving faster than the rest of her, and it's with a clumsy sort of jolt that she stumbles to her feet. She cannot lose the image of Draco turning himself over to his hands, ready to die with a breath of relief. There are things that are going to haunt her until the day she dies and this night in the forest is one of them.

"And how the hell are we going to do that?" George snarls at her, and his wand is at her throat again. "You should have let me kill him."

"You aren't going to touch him." She knew that they would listen. That Fred would trust her, even though he shouldn't, because she is taking a gamble on the off chance that she can keep them all safe, even though every cell of her body is telling her just to cut her losses, grab the twins and run, Draco be damned. "You're just going to wait."

"For what?"

"For me to make the story."

She goes home first.  Not the Malfoy's, because that seemed like tempting fate in a way that Audra couldn't, and it also felt like a sense of low that she cannot bring herself to sink to, asking his parents to unwittingly be part of the cover up of their sons attack.  

It's her mother's home that she goes to.  It's got the ghost of Vance painted all over the walls and she is in danger of running into her parents at any turn, but all that she sees is Vinnie, dusting over the bookshelves in her old room.

"Miss Stanton?"  The little house elf dropped her feather duster.  "Are you hurt, Miss Stanton?"

There is blood covering her clothes.  Her pant leg, specifically, from where she had kicked out at Draco.

"I'm not hurt.  It isn't my blood.  Listen to me, Vinnie."  She drops to her knees in front of her and grabs the shaking girl by the shoulders.  Let her think what she wants.  "You can't tell anyone."

"Is that an order?"

"You can't tell anyone,"  Audra repeats, slower, making sure there is no chance at being misunderstood.  "I forbid it."