Battle Wounds
Evan
“I hate this life” Evan said, sliding on the chair in front of Regulus’, his eyes fixed on a novel, as always. Regulus raised a brow at him, finally glancing in his direction. “I’m really beginning to hate the person that I’ve become, Reg” he continued. “I can’t go on like this anymore”
“Welcome to the team” he said, and Evan rolled his eyes at his sarcasm. “Could you just not, for once?” he glared at him. Regulus would always joke about stuff like that, some sort of coping mechanism to lighten their burden through irony, when he and them knew well something way darker and definitely more serious laid beneath it.
“I’ve never regretted becoming a Death Eater so much. That motherfucking son of a bitch deserved to burn in hell. Fuck him, fuck them all. I’m tired of his games” Evan continued.
“So you ended up realising it, after all” Regulus commented, the shadow of a satisfied smile flickering on his lips. “Come on, what happened this time?”.
“He assigned a mission to me and Barty. And Lucius”.
“Oh God”.
“Yet another attack. Dangerously close to the Ministry of Magic. And after what happened to you and Kenneth…”.
Every hint of sarcasm disappeared from his face. For a moment, Evan wished he hadn’t talked. Making Regulus genuinely smile had become the most difficult of challenges, and even the slightest trace of amusement now felt like a success, like a reward.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bring it up”.
“It’s fine” Regulus waved him off, though Evan knew he was lying. “I get why you’re worried. You fear something will happen to Barty, that you won’t be able to protect him”.
He lowered his gaze on the steamy teacup lying on the table in front of him. “It can’t happen, Reg. It just can’t. And the worst is that I can’t even refuse to follow the Dark Lord’s orders if I don’t want something possibly worse to occur. We can just follow him through everything and see what it’ll lead to”. He swallowed, opening his fists and stretching out his fingers over the fabric of his jeans. Fear was devouring him. Consuming him. And it seemed as if there was no possible way for him to put its raging flame out.
“Moreover, Barty is still an enthusiast about all of this. He’s still genuinely convinced You-Know-Who will offer him the possibility to redeem himself he’s been longing for his whole life, the chance to shape the world as he prefers. But he’s just lying. Once achieved his goal, he’ll be nothing but a tyrant, and us his puppets, just like we are now. Perhaps he’ll give the ones he’s the closest to more power and recognition, but that won’t change how he’ll still be able to control them however he wants to. The freedom Barty is chasing after doesn’t exist. It never will. It’s just a mere illusion”.
Regulus nodded. “We have no real future unless we get rid of the main problem” he commented, sipping on his black coffee.
“But you know well that’s impossible. He’d find out about our betrayal in an instant” Evan said. At that, Regulus pressed his lips together, then put the cup down. “You’re right”.
There was something in his tone that didn’t quite convince Evan he really agreed with him, though he didn’t have the time to consider his words, distracted by another voice: “Evan, have you seen my sweatshirt? The grey one I was wearing last night”.
“Nope” he replied. “Are you sure it’s not in my room?”.
“I looked for it everywhere” Barty said, entering the room with Evan’s green sweater on, the same one he’d been wearing the evening before. Regulus’ eyes moved from one to the other, amusement lighting his eyes back up. Evan avoided his gaze just as Barty wrapped his arms around him, standing behind him. “I think I’m going to keep this sweater, I like it”.
“You’ll never stop stealing my clothes, will you?” Evan tipped his head back to rest it against his chest.
“That’s pretty unlikely” he leaned down to place a quick kiss on his lips. Evan could feel Regulus’ eyes on them, the spark that had lit them up fading once again. It always happened, whenever he saw them sharing kisses, holding hands, sharing clothes, going out on dates: he just went quiet, thoughtful. And Evan knew why: during those moments, he thought of him and James. Of what they once used to have before everything changed. Evan sat back upright, letting go of Barty’s hand. He didn’t complain, Evan was sure he’d understood. He took a seat beside him. “So. Are you ready for this evening?” he asked, and his heart skipped a beat as he almost dropped the biscuit he’d picked up from his plate. His stomach seemed to have suddenly closed. He still took a bite out of the biscuit. “I don’t want to go”.
“It’s just a show we need to put up, nothing serious” Barty shrugged.
“But it’s way too close to the Ministry of Magic” Evan pointed out. “That place is packed with Aurors, Barty”.
“It won’t take us long, we’ll be on the run before they can even blink. Moreover, that position is absolutely strategic: it’s the sign we can make the centre of the power shake too. That our lord is getting closer and closer to oust them all”.
Regulus and Evan exchanged a knowing glance.
“Are you really willing to do this, Barty? To risk your life in order to pave the way for…” Regulus bit his tongue from addressing him in some not so polite way. “... for him?”.
“He’s our key to freedom, Reg. The key to our new kingdom” he seemed so sure about it.
“What if he’s not?” Evan blurted out.
“What do you mean?”.
“How do you know you can trust him? How do you know he won’t turn his back on you?”.
“He’s a loyal man, Evan. I don’t see the point in worrying, when it’s so obvious he’ll reward the worthy ones, just as he already does with Bellatrix and Rodolphus, with Dolohov, Lucius, and many others. Stop doubting him like that” he sighed. “None of us can be one hundred percent sure we’ll even get through the day. That’s how war works: it’s nothing but destruction. But we can’t step back, we all know that”.
“His loyal minions. That’s what he considers us to be” Regulus intervened again, looking down on the plate of biscuits and opting to keep on ignoring them and the scent of chocolate and baked dough filling the air. He locked eyes with Barty.
“We’re fighting for our own, right cause, Reg” Barty answered. “And don’t act as if you’re not as deep in all of this as we are”.
Regulus held his hands up in a sign of surrender. “I’m the first one who’s deeply involved in this shit. And I’m this close to reaching the depths of it”.
“What is that supposed to mean?” Evan asked, inquisitorial.
“Absolutely nothing. Barty said we’re fighting for our own, right cause, didn’t he? That’s exactly what I’m doing”.
They both decided not to investigate further in that matter.
Barty leaned over and softly kissed Evan on the cheek. “Don’t worry. Everything is going to be just fine. We’ll make it this time too”. He then stood up, opened the fridge and pulled out a bottle of milk. “Who the fuck finished my beer?!” he turned to Regulus who shrugged. “Don’t look at me like that, I don’t even like alcohol that much”.
“I swear there was one last bottle left!”.
“You drank it last night, Barty” Evan said. They’d planned a movie and pizza night, and of course Barty had insisted on having some alcohol. He’d gotten drunk at not even half of the film and opened a new bottle, then he’d drunk some more, offered Evan the rest, and… he wasn’t one who got drunk easily: he hated losing control of his actions. Though the previous night, safe, at home, with his boyfriend, he’d allowed himself to let his guard down. Well, the night had ended up with pretty drunk sex in his room. And, of course, Barty remembered nothing of it.
“When did it happen?”.
“Before… you know…”.
“Oh” realisation seemed to hit him. He closed the fridge. “Remind me to buy some more later”. He reached the kitchen counter and started making himself a cappuccino, apparently lost in thought. “Yeah, I do remember” he mumbled.
“We should have movie nights more often” Evan commented.
“Whenever you want, Rosier”.
Regulus just took a sip on his coffee, shaking his head with a sigh.
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“Let’s get done with this quickly” Lucius said, and, for the first time in Evan’s life, he could affirm that he agreed with him. Lucius pulled his mask down, held his wand out. He’d tied his hair and covered his head with a black hood so as not to be recognised.
Evan glanced over at Barty, standing beside him, wand steady in his hand. He reached for his free one. “Stay close to me, okay?” Barty said. “If someone finds us, they can’t separate us”.
Lucius snorted, they ignored him. Behind them stood Dolohov, back resting against the wall, arms crossed as he waited for Lucius to give them the sign to proceed. Evan shifted closer to Barty as the other two were distracted and whispered straight into his ear: “Do we really have to do this?”.
“Yes, we do. We have no choice. We’d die anyway, killed for betrayal by one among our own”. He was right. They weren’t the only Death Eaters there. All the narrow streets around the Ministry of Magic’s building were full of them, two for each, in case of need. Voldemort had really considered the possibility of an actual battle, and that was what worried him the most. “Barty, I don’t want to go further” Evan swallowed nervously.
“I can’t turn my back on him, Evan. I won’t”.
“Choose our own well being over his!” he hissed, then lowered his tone again as Dolohov threw a quick glance at them.
“That’s exactly what I’m doing”.
“He’s just a liar”.
“Evan, no. Stop it with this bullshit”.
“Stop ignoring the obvious reality of things!”.
A light rain had started pouring over them, thick clouds blanketed the sky, not a glimmer of light could filter from them. Lucius peered from the alley, then signalled them to go. “Come on, the way is free”. Dolohov followed him out of the dark street, and Evan was just about to catch up with them when Barty took hold of his arm, stopping him.
“Wait”.
He barely had the time to turn to him before Barty pushed him against the stone wall and kissed him. The rain was starting to intensify, Evan could see the tiny drops coating his boyfriend’s cheeks as he pulled back. “I’m doing this for us. For us, Evan”. He stepped back, and suddenly, without the heat of his hand on his cheek, Evan felt cold slithering under his skin as the fresh water soaked his cloak. Barty ogled at the Ministry of Magic, eyes as sharp as an eagle’s. “Just you wait and see. Your kingdom will soon enough be mine” he murmured, and Evan bet those words were addressed to his father. Barty shot one last look at him before hurrying after the others. “Together, Rosier”.
The soles of his black Converse splashing in a puddle were the last sound Evan heard before a scream coming from somewhere near him: someone had already casted a curse. Or perhaps the Aurors had found them. He threw a glance behind his shoulders, towards the way they’d come from, now empty. Everyone was distracted. He could have just retraced his steps, unnoticed, hadn’t it been for Barty. So, he sighed, pulling his own silver mask down. “Together, Crouch”.
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Back at home, Barty had told Evan it would take them no longer than ‘the blink of an eye’ before managing to leave, untouched. Well, he’d been wrong.
Hell had burst barely a couple of minutes after their arrival.
The Aurors had discovered their position. Someone had revealed it to them, yet another mole in Voldemort’s den, just like Fraser.
And now… now their chances of survival had noticeably decreased.
They’d chosen a retreat, as there was nothing else they could do, not so close to the enemy. At some point, Evan had just grabbed Barty’s hand and spurred him to run, as fast as he could, because they had to get out of there. He’d protested, saying a real soldier had to fight to conquer what he wanted, and Evan had told him he didn’t care, that they both had to come out of that alive and well, that he had no intention of allowing anyone to arrest him, let alone kill him. So, Barty had stopped complaining.
They’d almost made it through the wide network of narrow alleys, followed by Dolohov and Lucius, when they made their appearance: the last people Evan was expecting to meet that night.
“Stop right there” a female voice called. He was sure he’d heard it before, during one of the Gryffindor parties Regulus had dragged him and Barty to after having been invited by James.
Though no name nor face to match it came to mind. Barty slowed down just as Lucius casted a spell. Someone behind them screamed, and the voice echoed again. “Frank!”.
And Evan froze: Frank Longbottom and Alice Fortescue.
Barty managed to dodge Alice’s hex just in time, then she pointed her wand at Evan.
“No!” Barty shouted. “Don’t touch him”.
“Barty?”.
“Hurt me, but leave him alone”.
“Barty, no”.
Alice’s eyes darted from him to Evan, fingers hesitant around her wand. “You two…”.
“Run!” Dolohov spurred us. “Come on you idiots, don’t just stand there and do nothing!”.
“So it happened in the end” she stated, voice flatter. Evan didn’t like that, not even a little.
“We don’t want to fight you” he hastened to say, and he could sense Lucius dying from the will to shout at him and asking what the fuck was he saying. “Just let us go”.
Alice bit the inside of her lip, lowering her wand. “I shouldn’t do this. I really shouldn’t. I don’t want to harm you, but-”.
“How good of you, Alice” someone interrupted her.
And the temperature seemed to drop.
“You’ve always been so sweet, so open to understanding others, to talk to them, even when they don’t deserve your time, even when they can’t be called friends anymore. There’s no space for that in times of war. Do you agree with me, Evan Rosier?”.
“Gideon Prewett” he hissed. There he was, same red hair, freckles and blue eyes, just as Evan remembered from his first year. He and his brother used to be Gryffindor’s most brilliant and admired students before their graduation. Evan had never really talked to them that much: after all, he was a Slytherin, way too young to be friends with them, with the whole scholastic career still ahead of him while they’d almost reached the finish line. However, he did remember them clearly. People, heroes, like them left a sign, especially to Dumbledore’s eyes, as he’d heard they were now members of the Order of the Phoenix.
“What a surprise to meet you and your friend here, after all these years”.
“Truly” Evan looked at Fabian, behind his back, helping Frank up as Alice’s eyes remained fixed on him and Barty.
“What do you want, Gideon?” Barty asked. “Evan already told you we don’t want to fight you. Just let us go and forget this whole thing even happened”.
“Bartemius Crouch Junior” Gideon’s eyes moved onto Barty’s mask. “The last time I saw you two you were first years. Newbies who were having their first real approach to magical arts, still so young, curious, eager to learn. You were always together, along with that Black boy, Regulus. Always looking for something fun to do. You hated Potions, while Evan dreamed of entering the Quidditch team as a Chaser. I have a really good memory, especially when it comes to interesting people” he smiled, and Evan sensed that envisaged nothing good. “And look at you now: Death Eaters. Just like your father, isn’t it Evan? He must be so proud of you”. Barty swallowed as Gideon’s attention fixed back on him. “Oh, but what about yours, Barty? I can’t believe the old Crouch Senior approved of your choice of sides”.
“My family isn’t a topic for your entertainment, Gideon”.
A light flashed to Evan’s left side, and he jerked closer to Barty as the beam crashed against something behind them. They had to go. Quickly.
“So you’re suggesting we let four Death Eaters free to go and commit their crimes against the wizarding world without blinking an eye? I’ve never heard anything more ridiculous” Gideon said. “If you don’t want to fight, you could always give up and follow us straight to the Ministry where your fate will be decided. Don’t get too hopeful: it’ll be either a life sentence to Azkaban or the Dementor Kiss”.
Evan shuddered at that, imperceptibly shifting in front of Barty, as if that would be enough to protect him from either of those options.
It all happened too quickly. Dolohov threw the first spell, breaking the conversation, aiming it at Alice. “Don’t you dare lay a fucking finger on her, you filthy traitor” Frank said. The mitch that caused the bomb to explode. Then, steps. Other Aurors, appearing at the beginning of the alley, blocking their way out of the Ministry’s square. As magic blew around them, Evan kept on glancing towards Barty to make sure he was fine, that he hadn’t gotten hurt.
Soon, other Death Eaters joined them, the few ones that hadn’t already escaped. Still not enough. “Give up. You can’t win this time” Fabian flicked a lock of hair out of his eyes as rain poured over them.
“Evan” Barty said, looking straight towards him. “I may have a plan”
“That’d be really useful”.
“When I tell you to run, do. I’ll distract them”.
“That’s out of discussion”.
“Evan”.
“I won’t leave you here. They’ll arrest you. They’ll kill you”.
“I’ll be fine”.
“Who’ll help you if you get wounded, if something happens?”.
“Alice and Frank will not allow them to kill me”.
“You don’t know. We’re their enemy Barty. The same one they’re fighting to destroy”.
“Evan, go”.
“I said no”.
“Nobody’s going anywhere, here” they turned to see Gideon standing before them. He pointed his wand towards Barty, Evan held his own before him. “Don’t you dare” he warned him between gritted teeth.
“You two share the same destiny, Evan. I’ll get done with him and then it’ll be your turn. Or… we can always start from you if you want to spare your dear friend some pain”.
“Pain?”.
The tip of Gideon’s wand turned towards him, Barty’s jaw twitched, eyes moving from one to the other. Gideon sighed. “I’m sorry things had to end up this way”. Evan knew what curse he was about to cast before he opened his mouth.
“Crucio”.
Panic spread through his chest, petrifying him. He shut his eyes, ready for pain to burst inside him, pulling every single one of his fibres apart. But it never came. Someone shoved him aside, and he staggered, falling upon a puddle. His face hit the rough ground, his cheek started to burn. He’d most definitely cut himself. Evan tried to lift himself up, though his attempt failed. Pain shot through his left wrist, his palm slipped, he collapsed back on the stone tiles. He cautiously moved his wrist, only to ascertain he’d sprained it.
“That’s what you traitors deserve” Gideon spat, eyes narrow as he looked down on Barty, on his knees before him. The curse had hit him. He’d shielded him with his own body.
“Barty!” Evan forced himself up, ignoring the pain, and plunged to his side. His body shook, hair stuck to his forehead now that the mask had fallen. “I’m fine, it’s not my first time experiencing this. I said I would protect you. That I would be your soldier” Barty’s lips coiled up in a feeble smile. “I’m sorry, Evan: I can’t keep the promise I made earlier. They’ll get us”.
“This is the end, Rosier. Give up if you don’t want to receive Crouch’s same treatment” Gideon said. His eyes darkened. “I’m sorry. I’d avoid it if I could, I swear. But someone needs to make sure peace is guaranteed for the sake of everyone”.
“Take me. Kill me. Let him go”.
“Evan, no” Barty squeezed his free hand. A jolt of pain sprung in his wrist, though he didn’t ask him to let go. He needed something to hold on.
“None of you will get out of here, Rosier. Your fate is already signed”. Gideon had barely finished talking when a voice echoed behind him.
“How impolite of you to begin the party without me”. Bellatrix.
“Lestrange” he hissed. He turned in her direction, distracted by her laugh as a man fell before her feet. “I expected Aurors to be efficient, flawless soldiers. There’s no fun in battle if it’s too easy to win”.
Evan decided to take advantage of the moment to help Barty up, and hopefully find a free way to escape. They looked around the square, standing in the middle of chaos, as spells and curses flew, threatening to accidentally hit them. Then, someone grabbed Evan’s arm. He tried to break free, the person tugged at him. “Hurry up, the two of you”. Lucius Malfoy.
They followed him slinking through the crowd, until they got to the very end of a narrow alley. “Quick, I’m sure more of them are coming” Lucius gazed behind him, mask still on to cover his face. “My wife would kill me if I let you be captured. Let’s be clear, I’m doing this just for Narcissa”.
“Don’t think I forgot about you. Petrificus totalus”.
Barty’s fingers slipped from Evan’s as he fell, as stiff as a board. Gideon’s boots tapped on the tiles as he stopped before him. “Your father will be overjoyed to see his son after all this time, don’t you think so, Bartemius?”.
“Barty!” Evan slowed down.
“Evan, fucking hurry up” Lucius tugged at his arm again, dragging him out of the street.
“I can’t leave him behind”.
“Run!” Barty yelled.
Evan had taken one single step out of the alley when Gideon’s voice echoed again. “Not so easily, Rosier. You two are both coming with me. Sectumsempra”.
He and Lucius stepped back out in the moonlight, out of the narrow walls, and ran down the sidewalk, the sound of the battle coming muffled from the ones of their own steps and heavy breaths, along with the one of Evan’s heart pounding in his ears. Then, he felt it: pain.
‘No. No, no, no, please’.
His pace gradually slowed, the air started feeling sticky in his lungs, almost impossible to normally breathe in and out. He placed a hand on his chest, and that’s when he felt it, warm and dense on his finegertips. Blood. Beneath the fabric of his shirt, a scarlet stain expanded over his skin. Gideon’s spell had centred the target.
“What are you doing?” Lucius blurted out, then stopped at the sight of crimson growing wider and wider. Evan couldn’t breathe any more. He tried to steady himself, though soon faltered.
“Lucius I… I think I need to stop for a minute”.
He swayed forward, unable to plant his feet on the ground. His head hit the concrete, air got squeezed out of his lungs. “Barty… we need to get him back…” that was all he managed to mumble before slipping into a black, dense sleep.
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When he woke up, Evan didn’t instantly recognise where he was. It took him a few seconds to adjust his blurry vision to the dim light entering from the half closed shutters and be able to distinguish his surroundings. His head started pounding as soon as he grew conscious, a dumb pain irradiated in his chest. He groaned, sinking back down on the mattress, wishing for nothing but some more sleep to take the ache away.
However, his brain had other clear plans.
Memories flooded his head, and he snapped up. His head spun, his wrist hurt as soon as he moved it, though he barely paid any attention to it. Evan’s eyes darted around the simple bedroom he was in, with nothing but the bed he was lying in, a white wardrobe and a chestnut desk. Out of the window, familiar hills covered in pine woods extended towards the horizon. The sun was setting, painting the sky with a light pink shade. That was one of the guest rooms at Malfoy Manor.
He was safe.
Though he still remembered it all so clearly: the battle, Gideon cursing Barty, Lucius helping them escape, the spell that had hit him…
He’d survived it.
Cautiously, he brought a hand up to his chest, touching the spot where the blood stain had been. The fabric of his shirt wasn’t soaked with a bright scarlet stain anymore; someone had changed him in clean, warmer clothes.
After ascertaining he was fine, an alarm took off in his mind.
Barty.
The image of him petrified at Gideon’s feet still lingered before his eyes. He’d told him to run, and he’d done it. But that didn’t change the fact he’d left him there. Against his will, but still. They’d probably got him, probably already brought him to Azkaban and sentenced him to the Dementor Kiss.
He had to go save him.
He had just tossed the covers aside when the door opened, and Narcissa entered with a cloth and a bowl full of what looked like water. “What do you think you’re doing? Lay back down, immediately”.
“Narcissa, I made a mistake” Evan announced.
“Lay back down and we’ll talk about it” she insisted.
“I need to go. I need to go get him back”.
“Evan, you’re still injured. You survived the Sectumsempra curse, though you have a sprained wrist and Lucius told me you hit your head pretty badly when you fell unconscious. So, you’re staying here and let us take care of you”.
“I can’t, he might be in danger-”.
“And you’ll endanger the both of you if you do something stupid. Take a moment to rest and think of what is best to do” Narcissa interrupted him.
She was probably right, though Evan’s fingers twitched to reach his wand and give a lesson to all those dickheads.
“Don’t worry. We’ll manage to come up with something” Narcissa sat beside him and dipped the cloth in the transparent liquid. “Now stay still”.
Reluctantly, he allowed her to wipe the cloth over his cheek, right where the cut was. It burned, and he withdrew. “It hurts!” he complained.
“Let me finish and it’ll be over in less time than you expect” she held his chin with one hand while disinfecting the wound with the other, ignoring his protests. “God, you’re just like Lucius. He started protesting like a child for a simple cut on the neck” she commented, inching back as soon as she finished.
“We can’t leave Barty in their hands, Narcissa” Evan insisted. “I have no idea what happened after I passed out, but I’m sure they got him”.
She nodded. “Yeah. We had to orchestrate a retreat, Bella told me. She said those fuckers weren’t worth her time or something, but I know she only wanted to prevent others from being captured, or worse. Barty and two others got arrested”.
“Where is he? I need to see him”.
“Not until you’ve taken some rest, Evan”. Narcissa had no intention of giving in to his insistence. So, he had to resign and lay down as she’d ordered him.
“I have no clue where they brought him. Probably to Azkaban, like every else of ours they got. Or perhaps he’s still at the Ministry. I’m sure they wanted to interrogate him and extrapolate some information from him”.
“Extrapolate information…” the methods Voldemort requested they used weren’t exactly the gentlest. What happened when Aurors wanted someone to confess something? Did they resort to such strong techniques or had mercy towards their prisoner. Evan actually feared to know. “I’m sorry, Evan” Narcissa lowered her gaze. “That didn’t have to happen”.
There was just one person to blame for that. Evan had never hated the Dark Lord as he did right then. “I think I’ll get some more sleep. Maybe that will ease the hammering in my head” that was nothing but an excuse, though she understood what he needed was to be left alone. “Of course. I’ll pass by later. I’m sure Lucius wants to exchange a few words with you too”.
Evan nodded and thanked her for her help. The door closed behind her back, leaving him alone in a suddenly too quiet room. He turned to glance out of the window, to the sun rising above the horizon, over the tip of the pine trees.
He was going to find him. He didn’t care what it would take.