TheDookieNut — Roleplayer Guild

He hadn't truly expected Caroline to stay standing there, as still as a statue, eyes clamped shut like a child. He turned on the spot and looked back at her. Eyes trailed over to Kay's body, how scared she had looked before he'd moved her. How huge her eyes were.. Her mouth, hands and body. It was little different to any other death when dealing with dark magic. It was the tense feeling that clung to all of their necks, the dark fog that had washed over their wizarding world. Outside in the chaos, he listened. It was possible they'd already lost more than one, and if this was an attack, they'd certainly lose a lot more before the afternoon.

"Who is it, George?" 
He flicked his eyes to Caroline, watching her expression. There were certainly three answers to that question. Two he already knew the answer to and the last he felt the infuriating pain of not being able to say who. With a short number of steps, George made his way back over, stepping unsure in front of her. He exhaled slowly and placed a hand on her shoulder again. 

"Kay." He murmured, standing by just on the off chance she broke down. "Caroline, I'm sorry." George spoke after a few seconds of silence. It was hard to believe incidents weren't his fault from time to time. If he hadn't lost his footing.. If he hadn't arrived too late.. It took a strong disposition to force the belief things like this weren't his fault. After all, that could have been him. Kay has a threat, at least prior to his arrival. His statement was barely more than a whisper when he spoke, his gaze having shifted to the now peaceful body of Caroline's colleague and friend.

George waited, not entirely sure on what to expect. Was she going to cry? Did she expect him to comfort her if she did? None of this was his place, there were others who dealt with innocent losses and it wasn't ever him. It was like setting the first foot on a long and daunting journey, travelling the further from home. The pause was enough to keep George apprehensive about her actions. He stood close by, watching her expression with a cautious expression. However, as soon as she shouted, George relaxed; that sort of thing was expected from her, especially for him. 

"I'll go but you fucking swear to me right now George Nott on whatever you hold fucking dear... You will seal this room so no one can get in and when all this is over, you will help me take her back to her parents" 

What did George hold dear? It was unknown to most and he needed it to stay that way. George's thoughts drifted off to a tiny wizarding village in Romania. Through the cloud, through the snow and through a small window in a shop. The only family George still had, and a growing one at that. George had been the Secret-Keeper of his brother's location since he took up an elderly man's request of an apprentice. He would keep his brother and his family safe, no matter how hard he had to fight. He never visited for Christmas, although a brief visit during the setting hours of the sun was enough to keep him happy. Theodore was a caring sort, clever beyond his years, but not strong: he'd protect his family if he needed to, as any father would. 

"I can't promise that we'll even be able to do that, if the Ministry is under attack, there's no guarantee anyone will get out in one piece. However, I swear that I'll try." He added, turning his attention over to the stationary body of the young man on the floor. "Don't blame him, if that's what you're doing." The blonde added after a moment more of silence between them. The boy wouldn't be in trouble, they couldn't prosecute him for a crime he didn't willingly commit. He'd be interviewed once he was released, the Aurors would do that job. "He's not in there alone." 

George made a short mental note of making sure Caroline was the one to tell Kay’s parents what had happened, after all, he wasn’t a wordsmith. He could whisk up a compassionate speech about how the woman had died fighting, how she hadn’t been scared, how he’d stop at nothing to make sure her killer was thrown in the smallest cell in Azakaban… He’d explain how she died, how it was mostly his fault, although he’d leave out his personal beliefs. No one would wish to have taken her place, no matter how much they thought they could have handled it. It wasn’t difficult to ignore Caroline’s reaction to the whole situation, although again, he wasn’t sure how to deal with it. Awwh, there, there. It’s okay- He could have offered her a hug, of course, welcomed her into something that resembled security and empathy, but right now wasn’t the time and neither was he the right person for the job. He knew her professionally, not personally which wasn’t enough to warrant a few moments consoling someone he barely knew- was that harsh? He’d barely been able to comfort his own mum after he’d dragged his older brother through the Ministry by the scruff of the neck.

George stayed stationary for a few moments, waiting for Caroline to calm down, all the while, his attention primarily focused on the young chap laid still on the ground. He didn’t want to speak aloud but she was wasting valuable time. Right now he needed her to leave, get an Auror and come back, she could deal with her remorse as soon as he had Caracus under the correct supervision. With a momentary fidget of his wand hand, George felt the grateful relief of watching Caroline disappear out the door, or what remained of it. He flicked his wand, watching the huge oak doors raise once again, every splinter and every crack flying off the ground and back into place as if nothing had even happened. Four screws wiggled their way into place and the doorway was perfect again; what would they have done without magic? George gave an exasperated exhale and turned his attention to the kid on the ground. 

He looked scared, which was understand able. He honestly looked seemed more in control than before as if whoever was behind those eyes was finally letting go. George walked over, his left hand twisting his wand between his fingers, absentmindedly consoling himself as any habit did. He was angry, peeved and generally annoyed about the whole endeavor. It was hard not to be. The Ministry had been attacked, which it shouldn’t have. They’d been attacked from the inside, which it should have been seen. They hadn’t even been prepared, which they should have been. It was hard not to be irritated by the entire situation.

 George marched over with the expression of someone who was clearly angry, although who he was angry at wasn’t clear by expression. His feet stopped him above the body of Caracus, his eyes watching the boy’s. He’d be questioned, threatened and eventually would give the Ministry needed to know. Whether the boy gave them everything willingly or not wasn’t his place to know. So long as the boy wasn’t a threat anymore, that’s all that mattered in George’s eyes.

“Please, I never meant to- I didn’t know I was-” George pulled his attention from the pits of his peeved thoughts and back to reality. His tongue curled at the man’s pleas. He’d been to enough trails to know that’s how they all started. “[i]I never meant to… let you live.[i]” Well enough was enough really. George exhaled once again, trying so desperately to push back the school-boy urge to pull the idiot to his feet and punch him squarely in the jaw, hard enough it would make his entire family dizzy. Yet, that plan of action wasn’t the best in this situation. Lifting the boy would have removed the charm he was under and if the kid could use his wand again, they were both screwed. On that thought, George pulled the wand from the boy’s right side.

“Look, mate.” His own voice as venomous and hateful as any man would have been. “I don’t give a shit who you are. I don’t give a shit if you intended to kill me and her. I don’t give a shit if you’ve killed a dozen wizards or murdered a hundred muggles. Right now, you’re on the ground, weaponless. You’re not in the position to be making threats.” George spat. Caracus was not the subject of his comments, that much was clear. George pulled himself back onto his feet and tucked the boy’s wand into his uniform robes. 

“This worthless pustule might not be in a position to act-“ He nodded, gesturing over to the door. “-But he is.” There wasn’t very much that George didn’t want to do to the moron on the other end of those eyes. The idiot was a coward, using another to commit a crime so hideous. George flared his nostrils subconsciously, exhaling again as if it would push all the anger and resentment out of his body and all over the floor like a bucket of soapy water. He wanted to kick the poor lad hard enough to knock him out cold, despite how much he wanted to stop him from talking. The lad was innocent despite the fact the spell had come from his wand. He wasn’t sure how it would have worked in the muggle world but here, he knew it was different. He had no place to hurt the kid on the floor, even though he wanted to make him scream for what he’d done, how he was talking, what he’d even been thinking but, again, he had no place hurting the innocent laying on the ground. It wasn’t him that was causing all the current complications, it was the foul wizard behind those eyes.

Curiosity pulled George’s attention to the door behind him, his paranoia telling him to ‘arm and be ready’ as if someone was already standing behind him at the door. He knew he’d already be dead if there had been; probably one of the most embarrassing ways to go. He’d always imagined- fantasized that he’d be struck down at the end of another wizard’s wand, dying in an instant. Although, second to that, he expected to be screaming for a good while before he was given the peace of his final breath. Perhaps it came with the job. Caroline probably wanted to die peacefully in her bed, surrounded by loved ones, much like nearly everyone in the Ministry. Yet for people like him, those who encountered darker wizards in their everyday lives. George twisted his fingers around his wand, ready just in case- Nothing. 

“You know being hard isn’t about having or showing no emotion-“ George felt his chest tighten, his lungs struggling to combat the rage inside. “You work so hard to suppress it- to bury it- but its there behind your eyes.” He could feel every inch of his being clenched up as if this was it. As if this was the moment he was finally going to lose it. His chest felt like it was going to burst open, as if he wasn’t going to be able to control the hate inside. He hated whoever this was and what bothered him most: they were pushing him. Whoever it was, was pushing him harder and harder and harder. George felt himself quickly jumping to conclusions over who was behind those eyes. It could have been anyone! Yet his brain linked directly to his family. He was certain it wasn’t his father, not unless he’d truly lost his mind and he was almost certain it wasn’t his brother. The man was cruel and knew more about how to push him than anyone else... No, it wasn’t them. It couldn’t have been.  “The fear, it isn’t weak to use emotion. The emotion makes you stronger; it’s about feeding it and using it.” His heartbeat was in his ears. He hadn’t been this angry for years, he could barely breathe. His chest ached, his stomach twisting in protest to the increase in blood pressure. It was like being in a stampede, running and running only to find the herd is right behind when the wall finally comes. He couldn’t let him win.

“No, the person in the real danger is your-“ George felt his heart leap instantly into his mouth, all dread jumping instantly into his mouth like vomit he couldn’t keep down. “-diddy little blonde friend. No, not from this fuckwit. No… From the man two lefts and a right from here, who has just torn the head off another brave man.” George felt a sickening wave of relief wash over him. The guilty moment of relief to know one person was safe at the loss of so many others. His eyes flicked straight back to the boy’s, meeting the eyes of whoever truly was on the other side. Watching him was torture enough. He was a clown, a twisted comedian who laughed only at his own jokes. So far, George had chosen to remain silent, expecting that if he spoke, the man would only use his words as fodder for what twisted game he was still playing.

He couldn’t get the words out, not until they flew up and out without him truly considering his words, or the tepid threat he’d bothered with. 
“Instead of hiding, why not show yourself. Stop being a coward and come say hello.” He spat the words out, violently and with enough hate it was almost frothing over the top, bubbling out of control. Merlin’s Beard, he hated this guy. He could feel the guilt over Caroline resurfacing again. What if it was true? The last thing he needed was Caroline’s death on his mind for the next few weeks… He shuffled for a second and sighed. He’d have this guy’s head if it meant he’d lose his own… George moved towards the door, and stopped. “You can’t win this.” He spoke, with considerably less volume than his previous spat. With that, he stepped out the door, sealing it tightly closed as he’d promised Caroline.

It didn’t take much before he was running down the halls, wand in hand, and his eyes darting around for even a glimpse of her. 
“Caroline!” He yelled, oblivious to the shouts and screams throughout the floor. All he needed to focus on was making sure she was okay, if he had to escort her to an Apiration point and then find an Auror himself, then so be it. “Caroline!” He yelled again, reaching the first left in the hallway
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