Diagon Alley
In the seconds it took to apparate to Diagon Alley the panic had built in Kahlen to the point where she could hardly draw a breath. She thought she’d been ready for whatever they would find but the chaos and terror choking the air forced the breath from her lungs.
All around them were cloaked figures, their faces hidden behind grotesque metal masks as they chased the innocent wizards and witches across the cobblestone streets. She saw a father scoop his six year old daughter into his arms and try to disapparate but by the horrified look on his face the Death Eaters placed wards on the square. It took hearing the little girl’s cries to break Kahlen from her shock and bring out the battle mind she’d cultivated over many years.
She took off to help the father and daughter, noting the others dispersing to help whoever was in danger. Barely managing to avoid being stunned, she placed herself in between the crying child and the Death Eater, her wand raised and trading spells with him. The duel lasted less than a minute when she finally disarmed him and watched him disappear in a cloud of black smoke.
So they can still leave, she noted as she looked for her next target. To her left Hermione forced two Death Eaters away from a family of five with the help of the mother, the father standing behind to keep the children calm and safe from sneak attacks. On her right Kahlen saw Steve and Bucky fighting together, their moves seamlessly coordinated with no communication. The ease with which they moved convinced Kahlen that they could do this in their sleep, but she had no time to dwell on it.
As she surveyed the main square for anyone in danger she caught a figure slipping down a quiet alley, curly black hair bouncing with every move. The familiar sight made Kahlen’s stomach turn but she forced her nausea down and followed, silently coming up behind the witch. The sounds of the battle had faded, mere background music to them though Kahlen could hardly hear it at all through her heartbeat pounding in her ears. The witch had obviously noticed she’d been followed because she stopped, a maniacal laugh sending shivers down Kahlen’s spine. Finally, she watched her turn around, wand drawn, hair wild, and an unhinged evil grin on her face.
Kahlen swallowed, her eyes hardening into a glare.
“Bellatrix,” she growled, her shock overshadowed by pure hatred.
“Hello Potter,” Bellatrix cooed. “Have you missed me?”
“You died,” Kahlen insisted, “I watched Molly Weasley kill you at the Battle of Hogwarts.”
The older witch laughed, the sound grating on Kahlen ears. “Molly Weasley, kill me? No, I’m much too clever to allow a mere housewitch to be my end. I could see my Lord was losing, so I faked my death and slipped away to meet an old friend.”
“Karkaroff,” Kahlen guessed, reeling at the new information.
“Precisely,” Bellatrix said. “The poor fool all too eagerly believed I harboured a love for him. Took less than a week to convince him to bring me to Hydra, and that’s when the fun began.” She grinned, insanity pouring off her in waves. “It seemed they were in need of leadership, and I was all too happy to provide. Afterall, the Dark Lord’s forces needed a new cause and the silly muggles needed more power. A mutually beneficial relationship, to be sure.”
“And the attacks? Why go after muggleborns on such a small scale if your goal is mass hysteria?”
“Oh, hysteria is delightful, but our noble goal has always been to rid the Wizarding World of muggle filth,” Bellatrix spat. “If it takes disposing of them one by one then it will be done. We will purify the bloodlines once more and complete the mission of the infamous Dark Lord.”
Kahlen paused, debating her next words before they forced their way out.
“And the Lupins? A halfblood and your own pureblood niece, where is the purity in that?”
“Oh that was quite simple, really,” she said, with wicked satisfaction in her eyes, “I suggested it. Thought it might be fun to see the stupid halfbreed and blood traitor cry as they begged for mercy.”
The casual shrug and cruelly delighted smile only served to further enrage Kahlen. Quickly abandoning the goal of collecting information, she shot a sectumsempra at the witch. She’d promised herself she would never use the spell again after what happened with Draco, but at the moment she couldn’t find it in herself to care. Regardless, the older witch blocked the attack and rapidly returned with her own, barely containing her glee at the chance to duel. Kahlen managed to block just in time and the two began trading spells, some deadly while others were meant to distract the opponent. She thought she’d gained the upper hand when Bellatrix shouted, “Crucio!”
The all encompassing pain hit a half-second later and Kahlen dropped to her knees. She’d felt the bone-deep stabbing pain of the curse before, but this was unlike anything she’d ever felt. She could feel Bellatrix’ rage and madness in every wave of agony, knocking the breath from her as she collapsed on her side and curled into a ball in an attempt to shield herself from the slicing and burning radiating throughout her entire body.
Distantly, she heard screaming, the kind of screaming that tore the throat and brought blood to the lips. It was only the metallic tang hitting her tongue that made her realize the screams were hers, though she barely understood the thought before it disappeared, hidden behind walls of suffering.
Another wave of pain racked her body, almost as if the spell were ripping every cell in her body in two and putting them back together just to do it all again. Her vision faded in and out, sometimes black and sometimes Bellatrix’ twisted smile. She knew she was screaming, knew tears were streaming down her face, but the only thing she understood was pain and the fact that she was going to die. She’d spent her entire life in a war, been in mortal danger countless times, but never had she been so terrified that she was near her end.
She felt her eyes close, convinced they would never open again, and allowed the blackness to swallow her. Perhaps it was a relief when it all stopped. She couldn’t tell, too far gone to care.
— — —
Under different circumstances, Steve would’ve loved to visit Diagon Alley.
He’d heard stories from Kahlen; the shops of sweets and flying broomsticks and books on everything from dragons to potions; the bank run by goblins; the joke shop belonging to her friend George where he sold all sorts of things for pranking others. He could see himself strolling from shop to shop, watching Kahlen point out all the interesting things and explain them when he surely didn’t understand.
Now, however, was not the time for a casual stroll.
They’d split up once they arrived, Steve and Bucky reverting to their old fighting style almost effortlessly. He would’ve loved to test their abilities together in team training, but again, now was not the time.
They took down four of the cloaked wizards before he heard the screaming. Of course, there were screams everywhere, all around, but these were different. Visceral, gut wrenching screams coming from a darkened alley, and the pit in his stomach and panic flooding his body told him exactly who they were coming from. Not even a second later he was sprinting towards the screams, feeling Bucky and Hermione following behind and disarming a few Death Eaters to clear the way but he barely noticed, too focused on the agonizing cries that grew louder and somehow more heartbreaking the closer he got.
Turning a corner he was met with a sickening sight: Kahlen on the ground writhing in pain while a wild-haired woman stood over her, wand pointed at his friend and deranged grin focused on him. He didn’t even hesitate, throwing his shield with all his might at the woman. She deflected it as if it were an inconvenience, no more threatening than a goldfish, and cackled at his fury as the shield returned to him. He heard the gasps as Hermione and Bucky joined them, but the only thing he noticed was the way the witch shifted her focus to Bucky, her mad glee barely contained.
“I’ll see you soon, Soldier,” she laughed, vanishing into the darkness just as Steve’s shield came at her again, instead imbedding itself in the wall. For a second, the only sound was the reverberating metallic clang of the shield. Then, a pained whimper broke Steve from his anger, worry and panic crashing through him as he knelt by Kahlen's side, noting as Hermione did the same while Bucky watched their backs.
He’d never seen her look so small; the normally strong-willed woman was curled in a ball, shivering and twitching, tears still pouring from her eyes as she groaned in pain. He reached out a hand to touch her but pulled it back. Without knowing where she was in pain he didn’t want to risk hurting her more, but sitting there doing nothing was killing him. He’d never felt so useless.
“Guys,” Bucky said, joining them, “we’ve gotta get out of here.” Behind him cloaked figures were marching into the alley, intent on surrounding them. Steve recalled the shield to his arms and held it to cover the group.
Somehow, Hermione was still thinking clearly. “I’m going to have to apparate all of us,” she said quickly, bringing the boys closer as she prepared herself. “Steve, hold Kahlen tightly.” He looked at her unsure but there was no room for argument, so he put the shield away and gathered the shaking witch in his arms, trying not to let the broken sob she let out affect him.
“Bucky, hold onto Steve’s arm, I’ll do the same.” They got into position, Hermione checking over her shoulder as she let out a worried breath. “With any luck, we won’t get splinched.” Steve barely had time to conjure the image of the scar on Kahlen’s shoulder before the familiar feeling of apparating took over, getting them out just as the first spells were sent their way, instead hitting the brick wall behind them.