Destruction
The safehouse had seen better days. Hidden deep within Savernake Forest, the old stone cottage looked more like a ruin than a refuge. Its crumbling walls were veiled in creeping moss and ivy, its windows fogged with grime so thick it shut out most of the pale moonlight. Inside, the scent of mildew hung heavy in the air, clinging to every breath.
It had been empty for years before Evan and Barty disturbed it, using it as a refuge from the horrors that had occurred since their discovery at Evan’s engagement party. Evan had nursed Barty back to health after that night, his heart heavy with guilt for their discovery and Beatrice’s abandonment - he often found himself hoping she was all alright. And after the night in Hangleton Barty and Pandora had worked tirelessly to bring Evan back from the brink of death.
Now, weeks later, Evan sat cross-legged on the floor, sweat beading on his brow as he traced a containment circle in front of him with a steady hand. The cursed Marvollo family ring sat in its center, its dark stone glinting in the flickering candlelight as he traced the intricate shapes around it with the tip of his wand.
“Are you sure this will work?” Barty. leaned against the doorframe, his wand dangling lazily from his fingers as he crossed his arms. He looked the picture of nonchalance, but Evan knew better, with one glance Evan could almost see the anxiety dripping off him; the tension in his posture, the tightness in his jaw…
“Do you ever ask questions you don’t already know the answer to?” He drawled, his gaze returning to the set up in front of him.
“Rarely,” Barty said, stepping closer. He crouched beside Evan, studying the runes. “But it’s always fun watching you squirm.”
Evan shot him a glare, this was not the time nor the place, though the heat rising in his cheeks betrayed him. “Do me a favor, and shut the fuck up B. Keep your charming distractions to a minimum while I dismantle the literal piece of Voldy’s soul I’ve got right in front of me.”
Barty grinned, his lips curling into a smirk that made Evan want to eat it off his lips, “You’re cute when you’re stressed.”
Evan rolled his eyes but couldn’t suppress the faint twitch of his mouth that persisted as he attempted to go back to his incantations, “You’re insufferable.”
“And yet, here we are.”
Evan rolled his eyes and went back to tracing the lines in the splintering wooden flooring, they’d come across the incantations a week ago and after their last attempt to use the Fiendfyre - which nearly blew them up and did not destroy the evil that lived within the book - Evan thought it would be safer to try something new. Especially now that the death eaters had figured out that someone was hiding in their wood… their wards were strong, but the deep rumbling and shaking through the ground for the last few hours was hard to ignore.
Their banter was cut short by a particularly drastic shake of the ground below them and Evan cursed under his breath as the ring rocked back and forth from its place in the middle of the ruins. The air in the room grew heavier, and the wards around the safehouse vibrated faintly. Barty’s smirk vanished, his wand slipping into his palm as he sent a worried glance between Evan and the weak door to the cottage.
“They’re getting closer,” he muttered, his voice low and tense.
Evan didn’t look up, but his words quickened. “Then we’d better hurry.”
The ring pulsed faintly within the circle, as though aware of what was coming. Dark tendrils of energy began to seep from its surface, slithering toward the edge of the containment.
“Do you think it knows?” Barty asked, his voice calm as he watched his boyfriend work on the spells, admiration worked its way into his gaze and a soft smile adorned his lips.
“Of course it does,” Evan muttered, beads of sweat rolling down his temple. He whispered another line of the incantation, and the runes around the ring flared with a sudden burst of light, forcing the tendrils to retreat.
Barty stood over him protectively, as if he could throw himself in front of Evan if the ring suddenly became sentient. His wand hand stayed steady, his gaze darting between the door and the flickering circle.
“How’s it coming?” he questioned.
“Almost there,” Evan grit his teeth. His tone was clipped, his focus unshakable and Barty took it as a sign to back down, taking a step back from the blond.
The ring vibrated violently, a sharp crack appearing on its surface. A high-pitched, guttural sound—like a distant scream—filled the air.
“That doesn’t look good,” Barty said, his voice light but his grip tightening on his wand, inching back to Evan’s side, unable to mask his worry for the boy he loved so deeply.
“It’s supposed to do that.”
“And if it’s not?”
“Then we die horribly. Keep your wand ready.”
“Comforting.”
The incantation built to its crescendo. The runes around the ring glowed impossibly bright white, and the air grew thick with the stench of decay and metal. Evan’s voice faltered for a moment, the weight of the dark energy pressing down on him, a hand fell onto the back of his neck and he glanced up and into the chocolate eyes of his love. His comet. His Barty.
“You’re almost there,” Barty said, his voice unusually steady, pride and love swimming in his eyes. “You’ve got this.”
With a final shout, Evan completed the incantation. The ring shattered in a burst of light, dark energy spilling out before being consumed by the glowing runes. When the room finally settled, all that remained were charred fragments of the once-ominous artifact.
Evan slumped back, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he coughed out the toxic metallic air that grew thicker and thicker by the second.
“One down,” he said, his voice hoarse, reaching for Barty.
Barty offered him a hand. “You look like you just won a quidditch match all on your own”
“It feels worse,” Evan admitted, letting Barty pull him to his feet, his knees were weak and his whole body swayed in response.
Barty’s grin returned, though it was softer now. “Good thing we’ve only got one left, then.” He held up the Diary with a flourish of pages. Evan groaned, but there was no mistaking the flicker of determination in his eyes.
“Let’s kill this son of a bitch,” Evan murmured, taking a breath of the metallic air before stalking into the kitchen. Barty laid out the diary on the rotting dining table, flipping it open to the bank pages that had once sold them out to the dark lord.
Just as Evan gripped his wand, ready to start the house chook violently, brown and blue eyes met and Barty frowned, the shouts of their enemies grew louder outside and their hours of safety were turned into minutes.
“We don’t have time for the ritual,” Barty said sharply, pacing in tight circles. His wand crackled faintly, his anxiety causing energy to crackle at his fingertips. “They’ll break through any second.”
Evan’s face fell and he sighed, “Then we improvise.”
Barty stopped mid-step, his pale blue eyes narrowing. “Improvise? Do you mean like last time? Y’know when Fiendfyre nearly turned us into smoldering corpses?”
“Yes,” Evan snapped, dragging the Diary to the center of the table. “Because we’re out of options, B. Either we take this piece of shit out now, or Voldemort wins.”
“Brilliant plan,” Barty muttered, though he was already stepping closer. “If we die, I’m haunting you for eternity.”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Evan smiled tightly, his heart fluttering. “Let's do this for Regulus yeah?”
Barty nodded, moving to stand beside the blond, Evan could feel the energy radiating off his body. It was good to have a reminder of just how powerful Barty was, it was easy to forget that his boyfriend could kill someone with the twitch of his wrist if he wanted to.
The wards trembled again, this time with a deafening crack. The windows rattled in their frames, and dust rained from the ceiling. Shouts rang out, spells sizzling just beyond the thin walls, and two pairs of eyes snapped to the door - which was barely hanging onto its hinges.
Barty didn’t hesitate any further, his wand joined Evan’s, their magic intertwining as they conjured the blaze. The Fiendfyre roared to life, its serpentine flames lashing out at the dry pages of the book and licking at the edges of the table. It would be impossible to control it for long with both of their magic fueling the spell, heat enveloped the pair and Barty clutched Evan’s hand as the flames grew larger.
“Try and keep it controlled!” Evan pleaded over the deafening inferno, squinting into the smoke to see the diary catching fire in the center of it all.
“I know what I’m doing!” Barty snapped back, sweat beading on his brow as he forced the fire to obey. Their fingers laced together as they continued to channel their power into the scene before them.
When the flames struck the core of the Diary, it screamed. Not in the way a book should, but as if it was alive, as if Voldemort himself felt its destruction. The inky tendrils lashed out, striking at the edges of the room and leaving deep gouges in the wood and stone. The boys ducked and hit the floor, figures made of fire jumped out of the flames at them and Evan squeezed his eyes shut, if he died he’d be thoroughly pissed off.
“It’s fighting back!” Barty shouted, his body covering Evan’s the best he could. The flame had taken the table and there was no stopping its path of destruction now that their wands no longer controlled the blaze.
“Let it,” Evan growled, his voice edged with defiance as he sensed the evil start to die. “It can’t stop us now.”
The Diary’s pages blackened, curling in on themselves as the Fiendfyre consumed the artifact. A shadowy burst of magic erupted from it, knocking both men back on their asses and extinguishing the flames in an instant. When Evan pushed himself up, coughing against the thick smoke, the Diary was gone. Only ash remained, scattered across the charred table, though it was hard to see through the debris burning his eyes.
“We did it,” he breathed.
Barty turned to him, his chest still heaving as he wiped soot from his cheek, the pad of his thumb causing a blush to bloom on Evan’s cheekbones. “Yeah,” he said, his voice rough with disbelief.
“Guess you can’t haunt me now,” Evan breathed, his lungs screaming for air that wasn’t tainted by one thing or another.
Barty scoot closer, his gaze softening. “Says who… I’m your shadow la mia rosa, I’ll always haunt you.”
“You creep,” Evan muttered, his voice low but trembling with relief that they were both still alive… Though the pounding on their door was not comforting, their impending doom hadn’t been escaped quite yet…
“And you love it,” Barty said, his smirk faltering as something warmer flickered in his eyes.
Evan didn’t reply. Instead, he grabbed Barty by the collar and pulled him closer, their lips clashing. Evan needed to tase him one more time, the smokey taste of his mouth, the way Barty sucked on his lower lip, the closeness and love he felt for Barty and only Barty. The lingering heat of the fire threatened to consume the pair, the bodies melding into the chaos.
The room fell away—the looming threat of Death Eaters, the shattered remnants of the Diary, the oppressive darkness of Voldemort’s reach. None of it mattered when Evan had his comet, his fleeting light that could be wished on, and his only wish was that they had more time…
When they broke apart, they were both breathless.
“We should probably run,” Barty said, his voice rasping as a mischievous smile played on his lips.
“Yeah, if we had anywhere left to go,” Evan sighed, his voice cracking.
The next spell struck the wards with a crack so loud it made them both flinch. The protective magic flickered, its light dimming, Barty clung to Evan.
“They’re almost through,” Barty muttered, his blush fading as he turned back toward the window.
Evan swallowed hard and tightened his grip on his wand, “I hate to say it but we need help….”
“Who would even come?” Barty cocked his head, “James and Regulus will already be in deep shit once they get their hands on us again.”
Evan hesitated, he’d had the idea when Pandora had come around but he knew Barty wouldn’t like it, “we could tell them… Sirius, Remus, Lily…”
“They think James betrayed them, they hate us, Evan.”
“We need to tell them the truth…”
Barty’s head whipped toward the door as one of the hinges flew off and scattered on the floor where they’d left the ring.
“Do it…” Barty croaked, his voice conflicted, he trusted Evan’s judgment enough though.
Evan didn’t waste time. He darted toward the crumbling kitchen window his heart hammering in his chest as he peered out and the shouts of emanating death grew louder. The window here faced the forest, the setting sun casting dark shadows on the uneven floor. He raised his wand and closed his eyes, summoning the memory of Barty’s kiss—the defiance, the fire, the undeniable feeling of hope. Hope that maybe one day they could be happy… be with James and Regulus again… be safe.
“Expecto Patronum,” he whispered, his voice steady despite the chaos outside.
The silver fox burst from his wand, the light blue glow cut through the shadows, and immediately ran toward where Barty was crouched on the floor - sensing comfort.
“Fuchs,” Evan muttered with a smile as the creature nudged Barty’s shoulder, “Find Sirius Black… tell him we destroyed the Horcruxes, the ring, and the diary… we’ve likely been captured, James and Regulus need help, they never betrayed you, not really… they’ll tell you everything if we don’t make it-”
“We’ll make it,” Barty cut in.
“Help us end this… I’ll see you on the other side Black… Tell Reg we love him,” Evan’s voice broke as he added the last bit.
The fox tilted its head, then darted through the open window, vanishing into the dense forest.
The air between the boys was thick with fear, death, and loss, they weighed too heavily on teenagers… They didn’t have time to say more. With a deafening crash, the wards collapsed, and the door flew inward. Death Eaters swarmed into the room, spells lighting up the darkened space like a storm.
Barty stepped in front of Evan’s body and let the power flow from his fingertips, hardly needing a wand for much besides controlling the flow of his anger, Evan shot off spells and watched his back as the dark-haired boy cut through the group of people with flashes of light. Spells ricocheted off walls and shattered furniture.
It was only when a curse struck Evan that Barty hesitated, a mistake neither of them could have avoided, Evan’s body collided with the floor and his limbs snapped to his body. He was surprised to find he was still breathing, though the wind had been knocked out of him.
“Evan!” Barty shouted, his voice raw, but he was caught moments later, disarmed by a stunningly precise hex.
Bellatrix Lestrange strode forward, her manic laughter cutting through the cacophony. Her dark eyes sparkled with cruel delight as she surveyed the scene., Barty took a step closer to Evan’s bound figure on the floor but she ‘tsked and flicked her wrist so Barty knelt on the floor next to Evan’s heaving body.
“Well, isn’t this touching,” she cooed, her wand twirling lazily in her hand. “The Dark Lord will be so pleased to see you both. Two little traitors, gift-wrapped and ready for him.”
Evan met Barty’s gaze, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. Even now, even in defeat, there was a glimmer of defiance in Barty’s eyes—a spark that refused to be snuffed out.
“Together,” Barty said quietly, his voice firm despite the situation.
Evan nodded. “Always.”
Bellatrix’s laughter echoed as she ripped them both off the floor by the scruff of their necks and ripped them away from the crumbling cottage, and into the hands of the man who they’d just tried to kill…
Somewhere out in the woods, there was a fox… racing to tell the people who needed to know and that is the hope that Evan clung to as their bodies were spliced into darkness.