STARS | r. lupin (1)

CHAPTER TEN

ALTHEA WAS ALREADY REGRETTING regretting her decision, and she wasn't even at the source of the noise yet. All she could feel was her heart beating in her chest, the adrenaline pumping through her veins, and her stomach threatening to spill its contents into the snow.

"Lupin!" she called out. He was only a few metres ahead of her now.

"Althea?" he called back in confusion, "I don't have the time-"

"I want to help." she replied, "I kind of like your face, and I'd rather it not get mutilated."

"That's the nicest thing you've ever said to me." he grinned, but looked back at his friends that were oblivious of Althea's presence. He grabbed her forearm and pulled her forward with him as they ran.

"Holy-" she moved her legs as fast as she could to keep up with him.

Her ears rang and the ground exploded around her. Spells were being shot from every direction. Someone yelled a spell at her and she conjured a shield faster than she could think.

First priority: keeping myself safe. Then others. She thought to herself. She may have had the disadvantage of not having a plan, but she knew exactly what she needed to focus on, and that was protecting herself.

She heard another hex being thrown out randomly and rolled out of the way, countering it with a jelly-legs jinx. Not particularly painful, but very incapacitating.

Whoever the people around her were, they were not very coordinated. They all seemed to have their own agenda. She didn't doubt that the attack was planned, but they all seemed a little reckless. Unprepared. Ruthless.

She saw a green flash of light and dodged quickly, hiding behind a nearby tree. She wasn't built for this, how was she supposed to fight when she couldn't even think up a spell-

"Stupefy!" she yelled and a red light threw her attacker backwards. Their mask stayed on, but there was no doubt in her mind that Voldemort, the Dark Lord himself must have sent his worst agents. The lone wolves that killed without a second thought.

She got out from behind the tree and threw around more harmful curses, unaware of who they hit.

Another flash of green light, aimed at someone else. She didn't have the time to check if they were okay, she shot another spell at the attacker.

"Petrificus Totalus!" she yelled, the spell hitting her opponent square in the chest. She sprinted over to the body lying on the floor and took their wand from their hand. There wasn't much time to unmask whoever it was, but she hoped the spell would last long enough for her to find their identity. "Expelliarmus!" she yelled at a different menacing figure, before jumping at their wand, which had fallen on the floor (along with Althea, who had grasped it).

The attacker seemed to have the same idea, because they were only a few feet away and approaching rapidly. Letting her reflexes do the work rather than her wand, she kicked her assailant in the gut and felt a twist in her ankle. The aggressor fell back, and she yelped in pain.

"Shit!" she hissed. The attacker got up off the ground and she barely had the time to yell another spell. "Incarcerous!"

Small, binding ropes appeared out of thin air and tied themselves at the Death Eaters hands and legs. She got up to her feet and winced. It seemed that Voldemort had sent very few Death Eaters, because they were all either unconscious or tied up. She assumed it was a power move, rather than an actual attack. Something to keep people afraid. As long as they were afraid, his numbers would increase.

Remus suddenly appeared at her side. "You okay? I heard you yell earlier."

"Yeah, just my ankle." she responded, to which he nodded.

"Is there a reason you're collecting wands or..." Remus trailed of, raising his eyebrows.

"Well, they can't do much magic without their wands, can they?" she shrugged.

"Fair enough." he said, "Do you need help walking?"

"No, I'm--Ah!" she stumbled and reached for her ankle.

"I'll take that as a yes." he smirked.

"You Gryffindors and your chivalry." she rolled her eyes dramatically, but put an arm over his shoulder for support.

"So how did you hurt your ankle, anyway?" he asked curiously. She vaguely noticed his friends listening in on their conversation.

"OI, YOU NOSY PRATS, GET YOUR OWN CONVERSATIONS!" She called out to behind her, causing Remus to look back at his friends and snigger. "For your information, I hurt my ankle cause I kicked one of those guys."

"You do realise that you have magic, right?" Remus snorted. "And you still managed to hurt yourself doing things the muggle way."

"It's basic reflexes, Rem, of course I'm going to kick the guy who's coming to attack me, what else am I supposed to do?"

"Oh, gee, maybe use one of the three wands in your hand?" he gestured towards the objects she was holding.

"Why must you always make such valid points." she pouted, "It makes me self-conscious of my debating skills."

"Don't worry," he mock sympathised, "No one's as good at arguing as me."

"Connard*." she mumbled under her breath as they headed towards the castle, the boys behind her carrying the unconscious bodies of their enemies.

*Connard: French insult. Loosely translates to asshole.