The Battle for Khaat Lupin

'Okay.' Hallie nodded before heading cautiously towards the door. Hopefully Marcus would be able to support Khaat and use his wand if any stray werewolves found their way to them. Hallie hoped not with a baby in one arm and a baby in the other she was pretty much defenseless. She had pondered for a moment about conjuring a cradle to carry them in but it was her Motherly instinct that knew the babies would want to be close to her where they would feel safe and protected.

Finding her way out of the cell Hallie began to proceed down the north corridor. She could hear the cries of curses and blasting of rocks crumbling upon werewolves or allies. Hopefully werewolves. The growing sound of the battle told Hallie she was closer and closer to the exit.

'Not far now.' Hallie whispered to the babies.

---

Not knowing what to do Henry simply ducked down to the ground as the stunning spells passed over him. The werewolves continued to fire stunning spells left right and centre as they struggled to fight off Jack's white wolf. Stunning spells deflected from the walls, hit allies, hit other werewolves.

Clutching his wand Henry continued to lie on his chest, breathing heavy and in pain as he'd forgotten the use of his hands to help his fall when he had ducked the spells.

'Im-impedimenta.' Henry breathed firing the spell at one of the out of control werewolves spraying stunning spells all over the place. BAM. He'd been stopped although before Henry could feel a thrill out of his accurate aim a stunning spell had hit him right in the face. He was unconcious.

Marcus kept moving, carrying Khaat. They got to the entrance, and just as Marcus was ready to head up the stairs to the street, he heard running footsteps behind him. He spun around and saw Brian Quinn racing towards them, and Marcus could see the pure panic on his face.

"Here comes her husband," Marcus said to Hallie, knowing there was no way for Brian to be anything other than a bundle of nerves.

Brian glanced at the fight to the south but he really was focused. He was afraid for his family but he was focused. It was what Robert had trained him to do.

"Let's move," Brian urged, turning, ready to cover them. "Go, go, go!" Marcus went up the steps and out to the street. Brian followed.

"We can't take her to St. Mungos until we know how..." Marcus began.

"Yeah, I know," Brian said. He looked at Hallie. Two babies in her arms. "My babies," he said, overwhelmed.

"They're fine. Can you meet them in another ten seconds, Dad?" Marcus urged. "Hallie, hang onto them. We're leaving."

"With your permission, I'll do the porting for all of us?" Brian asked, reaching to hook one ar around Hallie's and one around Marcus's.

Pansy:
The burning sensation in Pansy's arm had woken her from her sleep. Her husband, Theodore Nott, lay across the double bed from her. They never cuddled, Theodore tried but pansy merely pushed him aside. He was rather naive about their relationship, too wrapped up in his career to notice that she didn't love him how he loved her. All she loved about him was his money, and because she was now a Parkinson-Nott. A double barrelled pure blooded surname really didn't help with deflating her ego.

Silently dressing into her black robes Pansy reached for her notepad and quick quotes quill, which she placed into her bag. Pansy never went anywhere without her quill, sure it could be an emergency meeting but if it was something more, something news worthy the reporter liked to be prepared. 

After fixing on her death eater mask Pansy found her way down to the entrance hall of the manor, stepped into the brisk early morning air and apparated. 

Already a large crowd of people has gathered outside a desolate London estate. There was graffiti on the Walls of nearby houses, the odd pepsi can and plastic bag had found it's way along the road and Pansy swore that she saw a rat scuttling through an overgrown hedge. She really did feel out of place after waking in her eight bedroom, nine bathroom manor house.

Through the crowd Pansy saw the Katrina-Carlotta near the front by Jack Dyllan who was making a speech. This certainly was something she didn't want to miss. Taking out her quick quotes quill and parchment Pansy sucked the end of the quill and allowed it to get to work writing what Jack was saying. Nobody could see but behind the mask a cunning smile had curled across Pansy's face. This certainly would be front page of the Evening Prophet. 

The witch didn't enter the house she remained fixed outside as members of the order and death eaters alike flooded into the run-down building. Pansy never was one for fighting and she was confident Katrina-Carlotta would inform her of the events of inside later. Now all she had to do was wait, wait until Khaat Lupin's body, dead or alive, came out of that building.

The death eater hadn't waited long. Twenty minutes or so later Hallie Rookwood emerged the house, a baby in each arm - Khaat's twins, how juicy! After Hallie came, who Pansy recognised to be, Belby, Quinn and none other than Khaat Lupin. She had been rescued, granted she was weak, but none the less rescued. Pansy would have done anything to throw on her invisibility cloak, grasp hold of one of them and apparate to get even more juicy details but she wasn't an idiot, she knew it would be too risky.

(OOC: decided to throw Pansy in there after all & sorry for any typos I'm on my iPod)

From Jack's peripherals, she could see Robert taking down werewolves left and right - she could not tell if the man was returning to himself, or if the man he had become just had a severely violent disposition. He had helped her with the large rocks, and now Blood was bleeding and disoriented. If he had thought he had had the upper hand, reality ought to have instructed him differently by now. He aimed for Katherine and Jack took the opportunity to point her wand straight for his chest and mutter, "Bombarda!"

Jack heard a bark and turned, spotting Henry go down as Elliot looked to her, asking for help. Werewolves began to advance on him, and Jack circled her wand, casting a ring of fire around his unconscious body. Elliot continued to leap at the other werewolves, fighting them back from Henry the best that they could. Jack could not focus on him for two long without losing track of Blood.

Katrina-Carlotta was in her element. She'd spent far too much time recently behind a desk and meddling in politics. That was all well and good, but this was where she belonged.

As soon as Jack had cast her first spell, the European flung into action. The Death Eater couldn't decide if she was please or irritated with Henry Yewbeam for throwing that first spell at James Blood. They were supposed to act like a pack, following their Alpha's lead. That Alpha was Jack, and she certainly hadn't wanted him to do that. On the other hand, the young man had shown up willing to fight. Not all of her Death Eaters had made that decision. A decent handful had elected to stay out of danger, some of them had good reasons, others not so much. She'd certainly be having a little chat with Augustus Rookwood later.

When the large werewolf lumbered towards her, the witch was ready. He'd sent a curse her way, and Katrina-Carlotta had dodged the unfamiliar-looking jet of light. They had sent spells back and forth for a while, enough time for the Headmistress to judge that the man was powerful but unintelligent. He was dead less than a minute later. The woman had thrown one of her knives at him, but the werewolf was too fast and had moved out of the way so that the blade imbedded itself in his palm instead of somewhere vital. Katrina-Carlotta took advantage of the shock and pain from the cold steel, stopping his heart with a curse to the chest.

Drawing her second wand, the woman went after the other werewolves. She was in constant motion, dark curses shooting from both pieces of wood as fast as she could pronounce the incantations. This was what Katrina-Carlotta had spent her life doing, learning how to become this blur of pure magic. The Pack could throw whatever they wanted at her, but they wouldn't knock her down. The werewolves may be faster, but they'd never have her experience.

Meters behind her, Rivah Trenton bit back a curse upon seeing Henry Yewbeam fall. She'd listened to Katrina-Carlotta's words, but there was very little she could do to implement any sort of strategy in the chaos around her. Her arm was bleeding from a badly aimed cutting hex from what looked to be a Hogwarts student, but other than that she'd managed to stay un-attacked so far. The blonde had busied herself with casting the occasional shield charm when a spell was headed for someone's back, but Rivah had yet to properly step in. Together the Order and the Death Eaters seemed to be a pretty lethal combination. As far as Rivah could see, they were holding their own.

The Ministry witch was rooted uselessly to the spot, unsure of what to do. She knew that she had to help Henry, but running into the middle of a battle would probably just get her cursed. Rivah currently had her back against one of the walls so that she had no blind spots, and the woman was loathe to give that up. A ring of fire appearing around the man snapped the blonde out of her thoughts. Waiting a few seconds for a decent opening, Rivah extinguished the flames with a rough slash of her wand. Quickly casting the locomotion charm, Henry lifted a few inches off the ground, and then zipped towards her.

Lowering him to the ground by her side, Rivah was tempted to wake him and ensure he was okay. Shaking her head, the witch promised herself that she'd do that soon enough. First she need to make sure the action hadn't attracted any unwanted attention.

Edward watched Robert marching straight forward at the pack, firing into them in a rapid fire fashion. He looked at Michael who seemed to have a rather casual look on his face as he fired at a young female who seemed intent on Michael's demise, figuring that as an old man, Michael was easy pickings.

"I'm old but I'm not senile," Michael sighed. He flicked his wand at her denim jacket and transfigured it into a denim straitjacket and bound her in it. She began shouting and cussing at him.

Edward was having much the same problem as an uninformed teen raced towards Edward and fired two ineffective killing curses at Edward. The spells had been bungled, and the kid hadn't meant them. In short, they weren't worth the sparks the wand had sent forth. He had seen the fear in the boy's eyes. Edward didn't think the boy was much over 14.

"I'm going to do you a favor," Edward said. He flicked his wand at the lad. The spell was meant to transfigure the boy into a chicken, but because the boy was so young, it changed him to a chick. Edward picked up the fuzzy yellow chick and dropped the chick into his pocket. He picked up the wand and put it into the inside pocket of his coat.

"What was that about?" Michael frowned.

"I presume his Headmistress might like him back at some point," Edward shrugged. He glanced back at Robert. "Is he having a moment?"

"Dunno," Michael said. "But he's wanted to shoot something for a long time. I'm just gonna let him go for now."

Michael and Edward were back in the thick of the fight, and Jack could only assume one thing - Khaat had been retrieved. She could not let on, however, if Blood was as obsessed with her as they had made it seem. Her loss would surely throw him into a rage and until more of the werewolves had been fought back, Jack did not want to provoke him any further. Between Katrina-Carlotta and Robert, however, werewolves were falling left and right. Jack did not like this slaughter, especially considering her own fondness for werewolves, but she knew she would make amends the only ways she knew how. Besides, she was fighting for Khaat's child too.

The ring of fire had diverted the werewolves from Henry and onto Elliot - Rivah Trenton was working on securing Henry's safety while Elliot kept the wolves at bay. A spectral dog, Elliot was not in much danger of being harmed, but her eyes occassionally darted to her large, white pet.

Jack once again raised her voice. "Any wolf no longer desiring a fight can leave in peace. We will not harm you." One of the younger males glanced around, raised his wand, and hurried for the exit. Jack was glad to see it. Jack was a fighter, yes, but she had never wanted real harm to come to anyone. The longer and harder they fought, the more likely they were all to be harmed. The only person she would have less problems with leaving dead was James Blood. But even then, she would rather he go through the proper channels to die, so that his blood would not be on her or her peer's hands. Leave it to those who were expected to carry out the difficult jobs.

Michael took a moment to make sure that Robert was somewhat under control. He wasn't trying to kill anyone. He was using minimal force to stop them.  Michael hadn't expected the curse to allow Robert to be that much in control.  

Two adult werewolves ran in from one of the other hallways.

"James! She's gone! They got her out! She's not here!" one of them shouted.  Michael saw James' eyes ice over in an eerie icy rage. He would kill this time when he fired. He had no emotion, no hesitancy in his face. Michael had seen that look before in battle when a man lost any conscience. Things had just gotten a lot more dangerous.

Michael's allegiance was torn.  Would he try to shield Jack? Or would he shield Robert, who appeared to perhaps not be watching James?  

"This one! He did it!" A shout arose from one of the younger werewolves that Robert had tried to disable. It had been a stupid move on the youth's part to try to get the experienced werewolves to protect them from Robert.

Three of the older werewolves were drawn off and attempted to fire on Robert.

"No, no, no..." Michael was filled with dread knowing Robert would defend himself. The curse would not let Robert do otherwise, but he would do so with a vengeance. Michael knew how terrible the curse could be when it got the better of Robert, and he had hoped to prevent that.  If he could stop them from firing on Robert, perhaps Robert might not need to return fire.  Maybe. Michael took aim to protect Robert, no hesitation on his own part to try to protect his lifelong friend.

All Michael saw was the whirl of the dementor costume, as Robert spun to defend himself from several who were now wanting to fire on him. Michael saw wandfire with Robert's right hand, and wandless magic with the left. It was as if Michael were seeing it in slow motion. He saw the two werewolves fall, and he had no doubt they were dead.

But Robert kept firing.  The curse had taken over his rage at the werewolves for taking his daughter, for endangering her and his grandchildren.  He was firing now on the younger ones who were trying to counter attack. Michael knew he would have to step into Robert's wandfire in order to stop him. He had to count on the part of Robert that was still there, hoping that it might not, at least, kill him when he would need to step in front of the business end of Robert's wand--something that truly was a chilling thought. He wasn't relishing the idea of dying by friendly fire.

Edward's wand was poised on James, but he saw Jack had a clearer shot.  Edward was feeling pressure to get this cleaned up before James fully transformed and became completely unmanageable. They'd have to improvise some new plan--fast.   He glanced at her, sure she was fully aware of every move James made.  He would wait for her lead.

Jack mentally cursed as the racket of young werewolves heralding the news to Blood met her ears in the clamor of the underground battle. Blood would surely be infuriated, and when emotion came into the mix, that was when the real damage began. She kept her eyes trained on him as she snapped to Elliot, who began jumping to each person on her side, tugging at their pants legs to inform that it was soon time to leave. Jack knew there had been spells and wards preventing people from apparating in, but she doubted there were spells that prevented people from apparating out, except for theones that had surely bound Khaat Lupin. Even then, she would bet that those had been specifically localized to Khaat’s holding place.

They were getting out of here. And soon.

Robert was unstoppable. Jack was not liking the ease with which he murdered those who possibly could have changed allegiances. She had to remind herself that he was not himself, but it was taking all she had not to attempt to stun him in an attempt to lessen the damage done.

She looked back to Blood, who was preparing his next move – whatever it was going to be, it would be deadly. Jack was taking no chances. ”Incarcerous!” she cast, aiming for his feet. “Diffindo,” was directed towards his arm, with enough malice to potentially sever a limb. And finally, “Stupefy!” With all of the killed around her, there had to be someone who drew the line. And like she had said before, she could not enjoy James Blood’s death. But she could enjoy visiting him as he wiled away in Azkaban.

((may add more later to speed things along, but I'm running late for rehearsal.))

Michael breathed a sigh of relief when he saw Jack was fully prepared for James. He didn't know why it had crossed his mind that he needed to be prepared to leap to protect her, except he couldn't imagine something happening to her.  

James didn't expect her to fire rapidly. He had been braced for one spell--not for multiple rapid fire spells. Michael could see James had critically underestimated her.  He had not used good judgement on trying to mount a shield for himself. He only had avoided the stupefy.  He was finding himself bound by the incarcerous and bleeding profusely from the diffindo.  His arm was at risk of being lost altogether.  

"James! Let's go!" one of the older werewolves shouted. "Finite!" he fired a spell to free James, but James wasn't moving.  Michael thought he looked stunned--dumbfounded, perhaps, by miscalculating the strikeback that the humans would make against him this time.  "Go!" the werewolf shouted at the others. "Retreat! Get out!"  The werewolves started to escape out a rear exit to the south.  

Edward made a move to try to get to James, hoping to catch him alive, and the older werewolf clutched at James' good arm. The werewolf glared hard at Jack as he grasped his stunned leader.  

"He will be back for his new female," he said to Jack. "You know that. He can have as many females as he wants. She's his.  He wants her, and he won't stop until he gets her."

Michael had to let Jack deal with it.  He was concerned now about getting Robert back under control.  Physically handling Robert in any manner was highly dangerous, especially since he was bewitched.  In this case, he was playing very poor odds. He had to count on Robert still caring enough about him that he would not kill him and that Robert could somehow fight back against the curse to re-establish some amount of self control.

His heart in his throat, Michael slowly stepped directly in front of Robert, hands raised in surrender.

"Its me," he said quietly.  "Hold your fire. Just one moment."