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[aurorosierx-blog]

It was unsettling, the coldness and smell in the undergrounds, it was uncomfortable and at the same time creepy, not only because of all the bombings and cries of terror above them. They couldn’t actually be heard, but in Antoinne’s mind - they were there, close to him.

Abraxas twisted in his hands and was now facing him. He wished he had ruined his face’s form and remove him from the this world - but Abraxas was right - it would be against Antoinne’s morals. Sometimes the goodness in him costed him too much, but he preferred that.

Antoinne avoided his words, and was ready to leave him down and Apparate away, either to the Ministry. Their current location was definitely not the Tube, so he could’ve teleport there as well to help whoever might be stuck under. He planned on doing that, yes, he had even prepared to start the spell, when he felt Malfoy’s hands on his face.

The disgusting taste of alcohol and filth appeared on his lips - he had kissed him. What the fuck was he thinking? With wand in hand, Antoinne pushed him away with all force, though it took him noticeable amount of time to do it - perhaps the shock. “Now you’ve stepped over the line.“

Homosexual, bisexual or whatever-sexual - Antoinne refused to play his game. He extended his arm, the one holding the wooden wand. “Fine Malfoy. Now we’ll fight.“ His emotions dominated over his clear mind now - he did not care about the injury. The alcohol was still on his filth - Rosier felt disgusting.

🐍 16;may;1945

                    ( abraxas could care less about what other people thought about his sexuality, actually he didn’t care about who he was flirting with, who he was fucking with, what was their genre, as long as he was benefited by it, as long as it meant the other person would give him more than sex (which totally didn’t mean love because love doesnt gie you power), as long as it would satisfy his ego and feed his egoism. ) “but that’s what i am best at, rosier; don’t you think i am the cutest? tell me the truth, please.” ( he then laughed, it was obvious the other man was nowhere near interested in men and abraxas was clearly invested in making him confused at least. )

                    ( he frowned, still smiling. ) “you are wrong, rosier; i don’t play games, you play the games.” ( and then he laughed for a while and only stopped when he felt his body convulsing in what seemed like apparating. strangely enough, he had never apparated before but had heard stories about it and what pain in caused; it took  few seconds but for abraxas it felt like eternity, especially when it worsened the pain on his shoulder. light; he slowly openned his eyes to find himself underground, the face of antoinne rosier greeting him. )

                    “thank you, thank you so much, you’re my hero” ( he said sarcastically, yet there was a fake light of excitement in his voice, at least he was alive and in the hands of antoinne rosier, a man who would rather see him die. most of the times he acted impulsively, without thinking thorough his acts, this was one of those; encouraged by the heat of the moment and anxiously waiting to see the other man angry and his face red as a lobster, abraxas’ both hands went to the sides of his face, connecting his own lips with the other man’s. )

                    ( it wasn’t the first time abraxas was kissing a man, but it still amused him, especially knowing it would freak antoinne the fuck out, he enjoyed making other’s lives feel like hell, especially when it was his enemies’ lives; he had barely met rosier and he already knew he wanted the man to die in the wors possible way. )

[aurorosierx-blog]

The name had a certain charm to it, and was definitely not an English one. He was okay with that - his roots were coming from a French family, though for a few generations, the Rosiers were residents of England. He liked it here, and had visited Paris one time in his life, before his Hogwarts enrollment, and he did find the hidden charm and love in the air kind of feel. Ant took another sip, carefully placing the little glass on the counter after, trying not to brake it with his own thoughts. It was rare for him to be aggressive or neurotic, but he was desperate lately.

Once his French was noticed, a visible reaction was made from the blonde, in which he only replied with a smile. His French wasn’t the best, he sometimes forgot words, but his parents were kind to teach him the language - he was grateful for that. He found it too beautiful to pass up. “ Non, je ne suis pas. Je suis de l'Angleterre, mais j'ai des racines françaises. Et ne vous inquiétez pas à ce sujet, je jouis compagnie d'autres plus souvent.“ Antoinne smiled, as the woman visibly tried to look more composed. He found it quite charming. “Qu'est-ce qui vous venez ici? Was this how you said that?“ Rosier chuckled, at his awkward question.

          Her lips curled into a smile, still pressed tightly together as she kept her eye trained carefully on her company. Trying to read people was something she did for a living, and although it wasn’t the most appropriate thing to do to a stranger, it wasn’t a skill she could suppress or turn off. It would always be there, always constantly running and always feeling out for some sort of vibe she could easily classify and categorize. “Veronique,” she replied carefully, her voice even. Introductions were usually her thing, able to quickly hold the attention of the other party, but lately the light her charisma usually exuded had been dimmed. How could it not have  

          As French spilled past his lips, Veronique’s reaction was visible; her eyebrows lifting in genuine intrigue. “Non, pas besoin de présenter des excuses; vous n'êtes pas celui qui est assis à une table déjà occupée. Êtes vous Français?” She felt her enthusiasm begin to slip away from her reins of control; rarely did she meet someone from her home country — most seemed to stay in France as opposed to making the trip to England — so she felt vaguely similar to a child on Christmas morning, spine straightening a little more and eyes beginning to light up. She was already running ahead of herself, questions flooding her brain and piling rapidly on top of the other. It was almost physically painful to restrain her lips from flying at a mile a minute.  Composez vous-même, she thought.

[aurorosierx-blog]

Antoinne’s lips extended into a smile - inappropriate for the conversation, and the topic of choice, that he had started. He took a breath and exhaled it fast, before continuing, eyebrows raised. “Who said I gave up? If I had given up, I would not be here, killing myself with alcohol. I would be actually enjoying the comfort of my own home.“ He shrugged. “I like your phrasing though. We need this kind of mindset, but look at that -“ he stopped, moving her eyes towards hers. “No luck.“

He tried not to think about that. About the war, about where his sister was, about what on Earth could be worse than a Muggle war and a Wizarding war, both of which catastrophically colliding together.

“I figured with the damage done at Diagon’s Alley, the Hog’s Head, while relatively more far away, was the perfect second option.“ He had contributed to the damage, but he couldn’t help it - he had to protect himself and others. He was an Auror, that was his duty. “I’m Antoinne Rosier. I’ve visited the Leaky Cauldron a few times, I think I’ve seen you there. It’s not my usual hanging out spot, even if it doesn’t seem like of it as of now. I am actually not an alcoholic.“ Rosier laughed, while he waited for a potential answer. He didn’t expect one necessarily.

With the damages done to Florish and Blotts, it was going to take more than a few days to fix themselves up and open again. But Audrey desperately needed a new read so she could be distracted from upsetting herself too much again thinking about what had happened. At least, that was her train of thought as she exited Tomes and Scrolls with two bag fulls of books.

She wasn’t entirely ready to go home just yet. If she did, Agnes would have probably convince her to rest and that was something Audrey just couldn’t do. A drink couldn’t have possibly hurt before heading back. Audrey hummed to herself thinking that Agnes probably would have rolled her eyes if she knew on her day off she’d just gone off to another pub. 

Audrey couldn’t help comparing the Hog’s Head to the Leaky Cauldron– It was much more dingy and unkempt, but even so, she saw the appeal. Sometimes people wanted to be somewhere that looked just as miserable as they felt. She could appreciate that. It was nice, in its way. 

Taking a seat at the bar, Audrey lowered her bags to her feet and smiled politely to the bartender as she ordered a drink. 

A moment after he’d went to fetch her a pint, it came to her surprise when the man next to her spoke and she turned to him with the same rapt attention she saved for all her drunken patrons. Of course, she immediately began sorting his words, detecting his alliances as doing so had become a habitual instinct whenever talking to a stranger. 

Audrey found it a little amusing that he’d chosen to speak to her, wondering briefly, if something about her gave it away that she did this for a living. Her wide startled eyes easily softened as she listened to him. He didn’t seem to be a threat and Audrey easily began to empathize.

“Well, you’re not wrong.” Audrey assured him. “I’ve thought the same thing often.” She’d spent so many nights crying over it. “But to give in just isn’t an option.  Excuse me if I misspeak, but with so much hate, I like to think it’s our duty to be better– To spread kindness and hope and to believe things will get better for those who can’t see it. While the war at large seems impossible to stop, it’s much easier to think about the small good you do because, however insignificant it seems, it means the world to someone, I imagine.” Audrey spoke passionately. The past few days, Audrey had worked herself silly to not break into tears, but what she was saying now, she needed it just as much as he did. It was something she used to remind herself everyday and she could only hope it would help him.

Audrey offered him a reassuring smile. “In times like these, I find people are often profoundly thankful for it, really.”

[aurorosierx-blog]

Ant turned his eyes towards the woman, which he had just spilled depression on. Her accent was French, which was interesting enough, given that Antoinne had some French roots himself. Yet again, his English was not influenced by the other language, mainly because of the environment he grew up in. He didn’t know the woman, the face was unfamiliar, but it was pretty, he had to admit. He took another sip of his drink, thinking upon her words. ‘... even when the white flag has been raised.‘ Rosier even wondered who exactly had raised the flag. There were no winning or losing sides; even the Purists had many victims from that gruesome night.

“Name’s Antoinne.“ He paused, looking to make eye contact, while feeling the glass of whiskey in his hands. “Je suis désolé d'avoir été si effrayant. (I'm sorry for being so creepy.)“ Antoinne smiled, hoping that his native-language-detector was not lying to him. “What about you?“ His, voice became a little bit more soft, when he realised he was going all depressing mode.

         Air. She needed air.

         Sitting with the blinds drawn and in the far corner of her shop was as depressing as the environment she was walking lifelessly around; the aftermath of the air raids still very much hanging heavy in the air above her head and even alone with the closed sign on the door, Veronique felt suffocated. She’d kept her distance from the fighting, tried to stay away, but just like most horrors, they always came running through her neighborhood and there was simply nothing she could do about it. The walls of her shop eventually started closing in on her as she went stir-crazy, and knew that she needed to escape — even if it was into the mouth of the beast itself. Hogsmeade had been the first place to pop in a head filled with heavy thoughts of nothing, space limited in her mind. 

         Her idea was a popular one, walking into a pub that was only a short distance away, and after absentmindedly ordering something to keep the staff from accusing her of loitering, Veronique accidentally sat down at an occupied table. Eyebrows lifted quizzically at his choice of words; they certainly weren’t the ones she was anticipating once she’d come to the awkward and uncomfortable conclusion she was intruding. Turquoise eyes scanned over her company carefully, fingers brushing along the edge of her glass. “Oui,” she replied softly. “No’zhing about z’his world is happy anymore. It ‘eez mostly pain and heartbreak, even when z’he white flag has been raised.”

[aurorosierx-blog]

DATE: 20th may, 1945 LOCATION: Hog’s Head, Hogsmeade TIME: 22:34 AVAILABILITY: open

A sip. Throat burning. Euphoria.

That’s what Antoinne felt, while drinking his firewhiskey. The Auror was not a fan of alcohol, bars and being drunk, but the gruesome aftermath of the muggle attack and later, the storming of the purebloods were... well devastating. Ant had fought, and this time passed only with one wound which he was able to heal by himself even.

The little village’s pub was emptying faster than filling, but newcomers continued arriving, until eventually one sat right next to him. “You know what’s sad? This world is sad. Including myself, trying to help a cause that seems inevitable. The events before a few days are sad, the war is sad, we are sad. I’ll tell you what, my friend, this whole thing is sad.“

The Ministry was restoring the building and the Aurors had little to do these days. Rosier didn’t know why he decided to drown himself in alcohol and share thoughts with strangers.

[aurorosierx-blog]

Antoinne was always left surprised of Abraxas’ way of word styling. It was all so fancy, vivid and homosexual, Rosier sometimes wanted to puke. Of course, Ant was never the one to judge people on their sexuality, race, blood, gender, but he sometimes wondered if Abraxas didn’t change his constantly.

“If I was flirting with you, I would be way more direct than this, you would know.“ He said, sarcastically winking at Abraxas, before making a frown of pure anger. The man disgusted him and voices were screaming in his mind to wave his wand and get out of here. He didn’t want to endure it, not now when people are dying all around. “What are you trying to do, seduce me out of your freedom? You got the wrong person, Malfoy.“

Ant furrowed his eyebrows while deflecting a few more spells, sensing the whole situation tone down. The blonde was still underneath his foot and blood was sprouting out of his wound, soaking the shoes of the Auror in the red irony liquid. “You can sense my shampoo from the filthy situation down there? Impressive.“ The following words made Antoinne shiver. He was not a killer, no. Even Malfoy didn’t deserve to die in this war. No one did.

“Torturing and killing is not my forte. That’s for the others to do. You are annoying me, and I have the upper hand right now, do not try to get yourself in trouble.” He let his foot down, and gripped both of the man’s upper arms, locking his hands so that he can not move. Many people never saw the firm grasp Antoinne had, because of his otherwise light body structure. The man however, was strong. He leaned in and said in his ear. ”Those games of yours.. I don’t like them. The whole Auror department doesn’t. But we are not killers.”

After a few second of unpleasant teleportation, the Apparition spell did it’s job and now they were underground. “Lumos.”, Antoinne whispered.

🐍 16;may;1945

                    ( antoinne rosier was a true annoyance, a goody two shoes, abraxas had barely spoken with him and already hated him and his pretty face; he bored him, he felt like antoinne could bore him to death if the man wanted (which abraxas guessed he would be glad to do). he faked he was falling asleep as the other man spoke, closing his eyes, humming slightly. he then openned his eyes out of a sudden. ) “blah blah blah, oh my god, you are so boring.” ( he snapped, then faking a yawn, closing his eyes again; maybe he shouldn’t have drunk so much alcohol and he’d probably regret his actions later, but now he felt so lightheaded and daring and mad. )

                     ( he screamed the moment he felt antoinne’s foot on his wound, cursing under his breath, trying to breath, if that wasn’t hell he didn’t know what it was because abraxas felt like he wouldn’t handle another second under the other man’s hands. malfoy felt weak, not being able to defend himself, he had forbidden himself from crying, he wouldn’t shed a single tear of pain, not in front of antoinne. ) “is that your way of flirting with me, rosier?” ( abraxas laughed, trying to ease the pain on his own way. )

                    “you look handsome, what shampoo do you use?” ( while antoinne’s tone was threatening and obviously filled with anger, abraxas kept teasing the other man, warning himself he shouldn’t try to break boundaries, feeling himself going off the limits; he was in deep shit. ) “so yeah go ahead, end my life with the abrakadabra bullshit.” ( abraxas mocked, yet his face turned into stone watching the other man’s reactons. ) “wouldn’t it be so so easy to kill me now and get rid of another problem?”

                     ( abraxas let out another laugh, the pain was still there but he wouldn’t scream anymore, not when it would make him feel weak, by that time, abraxas forgot about all the people he cared for, they didn’t matter anymore, he was following his own egoistical proposes. ) “but tell me, by killing me or torturing me or whatever you want to do, would that make you better than me, abraxas little flower malfoy?” 

[aurorosierx-blog]

That Malfoy man was mad, and Antoinne knew it. He was humming to a song while laying wounded on the ground, trying to prove a point while swearing at the person who could have helped him, perhaps. “You should shut your mouth, when you want help, blondie.“ When pissed, Rosier turned his sarcasm level way too high, and he was not proud of that, yet it was a characteristic of his, which many found intriguing.

“And you keep going.“ Antoinne laughed, sending a few spells towards the fray, and shielding himself from few others. If Abraxas thought he was scary, he was deadly mistaken, especially in his current situation. “Listen, why don’t you shut your mouth, until you bleed to death, because as it seems you didn’t want my help. I can continue helping others, you are not a great loss, at least not in my notebook.“ He rose his eyebrows, but Malfoy could probably not see him, as the Auror was with his profile towards him.

He was laughing, spewing blood, blabbering shit, that Antoinne did not like coming from his mouth. He was filled with fury and instead of cursing back or sending some spell towards him, the man approached him and placed his wound underneath his foot. Antoinne hated torturing or making other feel pain - but the other one had deserved it, for he had caused much more pain than what he was feeling right now.

“Perhaps, if you were not so stupid, you wouldn’t be in this situation. Perhaps we could’ve never interacted. Yet, it is a pity to see the little flower Abraxas brought down by one of his own.“ he paused, his voice already filled with fury and no mercy. “You don’t get to decide what my duties are. Especially you.“

🐍 16;may;1945

                    ( he licked the blood off his bottom lip, staring at the face in front of his eyes; he’d laugh at the irony of the moment, he’d laugh for he knew antoinne wouldn’t deny him help, but he didn’t laugh; abraxas remained silent for a while. if abraxas was in his place he wouldn’t think twice before leaving malfoy to rot in that hell of a place. he bit his lip trying to forget about the piercing pain on his shoulder; he couldn’t die, dying was out of question, malfoy still had many kingdoms to rule, many people to own. )

                    “yes, fuck you.” ( he smiled with all the strenght he could gatter, by that time he was feeling more delusional than pained even though the alcohol’s effects were starting to disappear; he suddenly felt like puking but he didn’t. abraxas could barely see and he wondered if it was due to his state of weakness or the amount of lights and dust; the dust was always there. he hummed, breathing in and out trying to keep himself conscious. abraxas kept humming to a song he had heard when he was little, his nan would to sing it to him and his sister before she died when they were four; he didn’t know the letter only the melody and wondered if it was all, in the end, a fake memory (stories he would invent to make himself stop feeling lonely). )

                    ( he then laughed, a weak laugh it was but oh how mischievous was abraxas malfoy that even at the bottom of the pit he would laugh, laugh laugh. ) “thought-” ( he coughed once, twice. ) “thought it was your duty to-” ( abraxas coughed again. ) “help those in need, antoi-” ( another cough, yet this one brought blood and abraxas thought about his family; maybe his sisters would cry for him, how young he was when he died, how the malfoy family lost their only heir. he thought about the newspaper’s headlines and laughed again, this time he thought about remy selwyn and that made him laugh again. )

                    “if i die tonight, tell your friend my soul will haunt him till he fixes what he started.”

[aurorosierx-blog]

The man’s features changed, and Antoinne only wondered whether it was out of relief or concern. Mani was mad, he knew, and would not stop in front of anything for a chance to end the life of an Auror, something that felt so natural to those purists. He wondered why the man was so passive, was he playing a little game? Did he think this whole situation was just a game? Rosier’s reflexes sharpened with each step the other one took, but did not move from his place, much, only two or three steps further back.

“A hex, a jinx, perhaps a curse for color? Throw it all at me, see how it ends.“ He had dealt with a lot like him this night, and it would not stop him to bring another one down, however cruel it sounded. The Auror felt no pity for those who killed, no remorse or mercy. They did not deserve it.

Many people thought of Antoinne as a traitor. He shook the thought, quickly correcting himself. Many purists, thought of him as a traitor, to the blood, lineage, The Sacred Twenty Eight, and so on, but starting from his father, he refused to go with the collective’s ideals and wicked goals. He rose eyebrows at his interesting inquire, holding firmly, but calmly his wand. “Not anyone in particular, no, but I would love to see you and your little friends there kissing the ground.“ He practically hissed at him and with a nod pointed towards Abraxas and his other followers, but a sarcastic smile was on his face.

“So what happened to the Crouches? Terrible tragedy wasn’t it? Are you going to call it out a scheme by the Muggles or an accident? Oh I am sorry, how unobservant I am...“ he mused before pausing, with both of his arms showing the situation around them. “.. I guess conspiracy is what the Pureblooded went with.“ If Mani did not strike now, Antoinne wondered when would he. He pointed his wand abruptly towards the purist and chanted - Expelliarmus! - something that the other avoided so weirdly during their short conversation.

The moment the man replied, affirming that his sister would not be nearby, Mani allowed himself to let go of the emotions encircling his heart. He did not need to worry for her, to possibly see her face in the crowd, to be faced with the unbearable decision of choosing between her life and his own. He could instead allow himself to be the Sarvankar he had to be, to end this Auror’s life well enough and move forward. If Kala had been there, or even Priya or sweet Lavanya, their heartbroken gazes and imploring words would have twisted something within him; in their absence, he could become iron and steel. He would fulfil what was needed of him, with nothing left to keep him restrained. 

A man worthy of riches and power, Riddle would say when he heard.

“ Fantastic, old chap. ” He matched the Rosier’s teasing and light tone, covering hatred and a scent of ardent desperation, of fear, in equal wit. “ Then I may focus entirely on ending your miserable life with no distractions, how wonderful. ” Mani knew that he should have immediately struck and simply ended it all there, and he could feel the eyes of Abraxas and his companions on him as they fought around them, pushing him forward. And yet he wanted to do this right, to savour each moment of this. To make the Auror believe he was something special, that he was safe, before he struck. ( Perhaps it was Priya he had learned the dramatics from ). 

Moving one step at a time, he let a smile twist the features of his face. Mani was young, but time had a way of forming in your expressions, and he was sure that there was something that had taken over the youthful face he once had. He was proud of it, however, because it was proof of his experiences. Of his battles won. “ Ah, but you are the guest, are you not? Pick your poison, Auror. ” 

Internally, he was scanning through every piece of information he had heard about Antoinne Rosier; he knew the family had been a member of The Sacred Twenty Eight, yet they had an Auror in the family. With a flicker, he remembered that the man was a Half Blood, a faction of the Rosiers that had betrayed their lineage so readily. Of course. Mani smirked right back at the man, and added, as casually as if they were speaking over Butterbeers, “ Seen anyone you know fallen tonight, then? ”

[aurorosierx-blog]

Truth was, that Antoinne was uninformed about such matters, as much as Natasha was. He was an Auror, yes, but the Ministry was not able to produce much while under fire. However, from what he had seen, he had a general idea of the casualties, and there was only one answer to this. “Many.“ It sounded too simple and vague, but it was the truth. Lifeless bodies were everywhere and fire was spreading more than wanted and needed - especially in the Wizarding World.

The trembles above ground shook the tunnels each time, and if one concentrated enough, screams could also be heard. However, the little group that the pair followed gave enough distraction for Antoinne not to do exactly that. He was terrified as well, but his Auror training and his professional experience taught him that this was not the wisest path to leading people successfully. The only thing that set him off underground was, that in any moment Unforgivable Curses could start flying, but right now, everything was under control. He bloody well would assure everything is.

Her questions did not surprise him. Many people he met that night, and he got questions like these from each of them. He never knew the answer of them, and his heart would’ve probably die if he reassured the people that everyone were okay, only to find them dead on the next morning. So to avoid that, he answered truthfully. “No, at least not in the Ministry, I haven’t been anywhere else. Is it possible for them to be at Diagon Alley?“ If that was the case, Natasha should’ve been dead concerned, but he would not let the woman know, that it was hell there right now. The Auror was not interested in any of the men she asked for, as they were main suspects around dirty games, that the Ministry suspected them in, but right now, this was not of importance.

Under the light illuminating from his wand, Natasha tried not to let her fear show too much. She wanted to be strong before him, wanted to prove herself; so many saw her as nothing more than a weakling, the pretty little witch who had found herself ensnared by a beast and now walked with the dark Dolohov princes, like she were something out of a fairytale and not a person, of living flesh, with a mind and soul of her own. In front of someone such as Antoinne Rosier, acclaimed and brave as they came, she wanted to be as tough as he could be. She didn’t want to be saved, as much as the thought gave her relief; she knew it was an easy way out in the end. And so she tried to keep herself restrained and professional, wishing she hadn’t thanked him so profusely as if she were a maiden in a castle only moments previously.

His account of the situation shocked her, and she bit her lip as she tried to take in the information. Where was Mikhail? How would she get back to him? All she could seem to think about was the man she wanted to be with more than anything, although she felt parts of her being split direction for her loved ones, for Dmitri, for Vladimir, for darling Veronique with her golden hair…what would become of her? After a moment, she focused on Antoinne once more, and asked, “ What of the casualties? ” 

She had never been much a fan of any of the Pureblood circles who roamed like vultures through the city, but she could not help the flame of pity that surged through her at the thought of them dying in such a way, to be taken down by Muggles so swiftly. 

Natasha could have broken down at the thought of having to make her way through the tunnels, not knowing what would be happening above ground, if the people she loved were safe while she dwelled. She was more than grateful to have Antoinne beside her, and shot him a grateful smile as he spoke once more, trying to find comfort in the words; he was a good man, and he would guide them all to safety. “ I trust you, sir. Lead us to safety. ” While they began walking behind a group of wizards and witches, following the trail that seemed to be leading towards what she hoped would be their salvation, Natasha frowned as she tried to calm her frustration at her placement, and turned to him once more. “ I must ask, did you see my husband or his brothers when you were above ground at all? Perhaps at the Ministry? I cannot stand not knowing…not knowing what could happen to them. ”

[aurorosierx-blog]

[aurorosierx-blog]

Rosier only found the sight of a scared Muggleborn looking for refugee. Forgetting for a moment of the one laying on the ground, letting his grasp off his bloody coat. He reassured the poor girl who had came up to him and between a few ‘Protegos’ he navigated her to the Leaky Cauldron, soon seeing her gallantly run away in between the streaks of fire. He crouched once again, know on his knees, once again grabbing the coat of the victim, trying to identify the wound. And that’s when his identity hit Rosier.

What Antoinne had not expected was to hold a Malfoy in his hands and feel pity about it. While the family did not support the purists publicly, Rosier was too suspicious of them and had kept his eyes on them. But just because he never had the intention to wave his wand towards them, that did not mean he felt sorry for them, even when now Abraxas was laying on the ground wounded and helpless. For the first time Rosier did not feel the urge to help.

The cockiness of the man quickly showed off, and the Auror was not left surprised - oh how he hated being talked back like that. “Fuck me, huh? Very well, Malfoy.“ Rosier resisted the temptation to not punch Abraxas. The urge was strong, and was screaming in his mind, but he was wounded, and it was against the man’s morals to hit a person who cannot defend himself. He stood up, letting the man go on the cold cement, and thought for a second about the things happening at the given moment. Malfoy bloody well deserved to kiss the ground with his blood covered lips, instead of walking on it.

The Auror thought of walking away, he considered leaving the man behind, but the mutter of the word ‘help’ echoed in Antoinne’s mind, filling him with doubts. He was living to help people, that was his duty in this wicked world, yet the words came from Abraxas - one of the people that led his suspicions list. “I thought you didn’t need help?“ he stopped, turning once again around to look upon him.

🐍 16;may;1945

                    ( hell. it was amusing watching them throwing their unforgivable curses, causing chaos; he watched them, observed them, half hiding, half seen, nobody payed him attention when they were all fighting for whatever bullshit had happened, whoever was killed by a bomb. names, names and names, rich families that didn’t matter to him because in the end he was above them all, superior. the scent, the thick dust created by the uproar, the lights, everything made him get into some kind of hazy dream that lured him tempted him to join the fight for egoistical proposes, to have fun. )

                    ( it stopped and abraxas stoop up observing the chaos, taking in its scent, wondering if his head was heavy due to the environment or the drinks hehad before facing the outside world. damned be the moment he decided to turn, hearing his name being called with such anger his eyes blinded by light, he didn’t feel it at first, nor when he hit the floor did he feel it, how drunk could he be to feel this numb. only when more lights started flashing above of him did the pain start kicking in. )

                    ( abraxas cursed multiple times under his breath, it had hit one of his shoulders but the pain was so overwhelming that he could barely breath; malfoy felt like losing his senses and the alcohol wasn’t helping him. maybe he was going to die in that moment, that was what fate had brought him, nobody would help, nobody would help a malfoy, he thought. he openned his eyes to find someone else, not identifying who in hell was screaming at him, the world was spinning around him and all he saw were shadows and fire. )

                    “fuck you, do i look like i can stand up?” ( he blurted out. ) “shit, shit.” ( abraxas hand moved to his own shoulder, seconds after realizing that wasn’t the bleeding shoulder. left. his fingers moved to the wound, feeling the blood staining his coat, he tried to press his own wound but his arm had no strenght. he clenched his teeth trying to endure the pain but as the seconds passed he felt like pain wasn’t going to end. at least he wasn’t dead. ) “help.” ( abraxas tried to stand up but his whole body was failing him. )

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She shouted, which was nothing new for Antoinne’s ears. Every living soul was shouting around here, and sometimes, he even felt the dead ones shouting beyond the grave as well. “He decided to check out what’s happening by revealing himself to everyone. Stupid idiot, what was he thinking?“ As much as he cared for the people, that did not stop him from thinking that some were really reckless and ceased any attempts of the Aurors to save as much people possible. The wounded one’s blood was still erupting from the wound on his body, but Rosier cared little.

The Auror himself knew a little bit of healing spells, but he had to admit that he never really jumped too much in their study. He always failed them and he figured, that if he is on the breach of death one day, he probably bloody well deserved it. The woman was trying few of them, hearing the chants as they vibrated in the air. Rosier quickly stood up on the wary for any attackers, deflecting a few spells that found their way to the little street via ricochets.

“Good, that’s good.“ He felt a slight relief. He perfectly knew he could not help everyone, and he hated that, but hearing that the woman working in the Leaky had helped as much as she could made him feel good. With a calm voice, something he’d not expected, he answered the woman’s quesion, trying to sound as convincing as possible. He had to look strong in the eyes of others, it was his duty. “You bet I am. I am Antoinne Rosier, I’ve met you in the Leaky a few times, but I am afraid we haven’t spoken much. I think both of us know that this is not the best place to do so, though.”

He made a short pause. No, there were no news from the Ministry, or at least nothing that he was aware of. The notice system was surely destroyed and unable to fully operate right now, but he knew knew something for sure - the world was on fire. “The Ministry’s is on fire and I am bloody sure the purists are going to invade it by the end of the night. It’s chaos.” There was concern in his eyes and voice, his senses failing for him to seem strong.

A sudden wave of heat engulfed Antoinne. The fire did not get to him, but Agnes was not as fortunate. He was still not sure of the name, but he kept on it, likely to ignore any other name that the girl could’ve told him. He had no space for this in his mind right now. He chanted - ‘Aguamenti’ - only to add help for the burning flesh of the girl. It was nothing serious, for the very least. He looked at the wounded man, processing her question. “There is no way he could survive it. He will get crushed in the vortex, there is no point.“

Agnes, especially after having been separated from her sister, had started hearing bells - the ringing in her head would not stop - but that did not prevent the rush of reflexes and adrenaline in her body, after having dodged curse after curse, fighting to keep herself and her flesh and blood alive - in the last half an hour her body had remembered all the duels, the fights she had won back in Hogwarts - her reflexes had surely become slow, but not enough to get her killed. Not enough to prevent them from helping - helping others. 

“For Merlin’s sake,” she shouted at her current companion, a face strangely familiar, perhaps a visitor of the Leaky; “How did this fool even get here?” She would have imagined he would be dead if not for his protector - protectors, now, technically, the thought was still absurd; Agnes risking her life for someone other than family. As she followed the duo back into a street that seemed as safe as a street could get, at that very moment, she tried casting as many Protegos she could.. She had not liked that it was a dead end, but it would have to do.

“I - I haven’t -” she had not dealt with healing spells more complicated than a few Episkeys for years, she had never found the need to. Yet Agnes was not the one to doubt her magical composure; the few spells she remembered would have to do, because whoever her accomplice was - the name Rosier popped up for a sudden - he was expecting her to save the dying man. “I can bloody well try.” she rushed towards him, muttering a quick but strong Ferula, a Vulnera Sanentur, and a Tergeo, just for the hell of it.

“Anyone I’ve encountered - there are some scattered groups of unarmed locals, never mind their useless blood statuses - I’ve - I have told them to go to the Leaky. It’s completely covered with protective charms, and there is warm food and tea, and - and Healers, and there are at least a hundred streets used for battle.” her voice was composed, but her fingers were drawing blood from inside her palms. “I’m trying to get as many people as I can to the pub - not all of them are quite cooperative.” she sighed out, looking back at him. “You’re an Auror, yes? Any news from the Ministry?”

“Fucking - shit of Merlin - “ she exclaimed as a part of the roof fell right across their only exit, the fire burning her skin - “Aguamenti!” she could only shout, but the fire was not only before them, but above them, too - “do you think he can Apparate out of here?” she gestured at their third, half-conscious.

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fervidus + the onion headlines ( part i )

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[aurorosierx-blog]

Send "🙋" + any headcannons you want to know about my muse.

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After Antoinne finished helping whoever he could, he refused to be deemed inactive for the remainder of the night. He quickly moved towards the street know as Knockturn Alley, ironically. He never found much interest in that particular side of the Wizarding World, but then again, he was fighting the Dark Arts, not perfecting them. However, many people were locked there, and Rosier could only wonder how much criminals were hidden among the said innocent. He felt it like a duty to go and help the other Aurors, together with whoever volunteered to do so as well, anyways. One could be surprised how many people actually had the guts to defend their belongings and family, while helping others as well instead of hiding. He thought of those people brave, but only trembled at the fact of how their inexperience could doom them.

He turned right, walked a bit and then made a right and a left turn in order to get to his location. Chants and echoes were heard from the not so far away Diagon Alley, but a wizard could never mistake the two streets and not only because of the contrasting environment. Two or three at most shops were hiding refugees, skulls and frozen animals staring at him from the inside of the little houses. While passing through the street, more cautious than ever, a certain person caught the attention of the Auror, locked inside the hideouts.

He approached the door, and chanted ‘Alohomora‘ in order to enter without breaking down the whole house, although he was capable of this as well. Antoinne walked in the room and closed the door behind him, making sure to get his face shown. It took a while for people to recognize him, but the crowd was certainly left relieved at the appearance of the Ministry worker.  Rosier’s eyes, while filled with doubt, were glued to one of the Dolohov brothers. The pair that his colleague suspects from such a long time in other crimes than killing Muggles, yet that was unimportant now. Hearing his words, which were not directed to him, Antoinne decided to overlook the highly suspicious reports that the man was known for in the Ministry, and instead decided answer his question with a serious tone:

“It is a little too early to know, but we have a few Purebloods down, mainly from the bomb dropped on the mansion, not sure if you were able to follow the events. As to everyone, I will try to get you out as soon as possible.”

date/time: fifteenth of may, nineteen forty-five / 23:53 location: knockturn alley availability: open

The number of establishments offering service at the hours of night that Vladimir was more comfortable with conducting business had been limited, in London - Cobb & Webb’s had been the regular place of trade for the few customers who preferred anonymity in a secluded location, and Vladimir had not chosen to suggest otherwise. Knockturn Alley would be more alive than others, at this time of the night - shops filled with dealers like him, customers with too much to lose. If asked later, he would have to justify his location at the time of the attacks by offering a simple exploration of the London night life - in fact, he had just arrived to the location of the deal during the first few hits.

He would have chosen not to be locked inside during times of ridiculous worry; it was when cold panic started creeping towards his tense shoulders that he found himself almost grateful to be with a number of people instead alone, especially when the first curses started bouncing off the walls of the countless shops. Surely, after the Ministry had cleaned the mess, he would have been accused of being one of the initial attackers - it was not until the resistance gatherings started to push against the crowds of Knockturn Alley that he had gone outside, filled with circumstantial rage ( the days of thoughts of thinking lesser of muggles would never pass ) as he joined his blood-compatriots against foolish idiots who would go on and on about equality and the like.

“тебя,” he directed at the closest person nearby, in between Crucios, “Do they have names of the families fallen?”

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The gentle light of his wand revealed the face of Natasha Rybakova - a fellow colleague, working in the Department of Mysteries. The two have met around the halls of the Ministry, or while on the run to their respective positions. They never talked much, but were acquainted, and from his knowledge and observations she was certainly a victim down here, rather than an enemy. The bombs were most likely incinerating the ground above them, but whoever was below could only hear the disaster, which only opened more opportunities for one’s imagination to paint a picture of it. Antoinne’s ‘work of art’ was horrible, so he tried hard to forget it, and instead focused on Natasha.

He could not believe that a laugh escaped his body when he heard the greeting, words so pure and sweet, while too unappropriated for the situation. “Do not thank me until we are out of this hole, Natasha.“ She seemed relieved, and Antoinne only wanted for her to feel safe, although he himself was afraid of so much right now, but his own life.

“The Muggles are dropping bombs from the skies, and in a result a Pureblood gathering hosted by the Crouch family is now on fire. You are smart enough to understand what followed next.“ Reports in the now burning Ministry had told that Diagon Alley was buzzing with angry purists, demolishing everything they see. Half of the Ministry’s Aurors were sent there, one of the most trusted protected the Minister itself, and the others were scattered, trying to help whoever needed one. Antoinne was actually one of the Aurors deployed in the defense of the Minister, but he quickly joined the rescue team. The people guarding the Head of the Wizarding World were skilled enough to make it through without him, and he was glad he made that choice - he had successfully helped too much people to count, before getting down to the tunnels, as his last stop.

“The tunnels lead to an exit far from the mayhem.“ With the light from their wands still brightening the underground, he pointed in front of him, while his voice echoed in the tunnels. “It is a long way out, but at least you got company.“ A smile materialized on his face; He had to do something in order to keep himself sane. Where was his sister? What was happening in the Ministry? Is his family alright? All those unanswered questions, yet Natasha was his only distraction.

She immediately recognised the voice, and found herself staring into a familiar face, that immediately settled something within her. Someone she knew was good, someone who was right. Natasha had never so much as had a true conversation with Antoinne Rosier, but his name was revered and whispered with such awe and adoration throughout the Ministry, she immediately felt safe in his presence. She had met him, yes, but they had been singular and brief; however, he had a charisma about him, something that was enough to let her know she would follow him anywhere, as a child would their parent. 

As it stood, she could not stop the grateful smile, however small it was, that graced her lips. “ Monsieur Rosier, ” she whispered, knowing the greeting was somewhat inappropriate given the circumstances, but knowing she could not allow him to ‘save’ her without acknowledging him formally. “ Thank you, thank you. ” She was not quite sure what she was thanking him for, whether it was for simply existing in that moment, to find her, to give her hope with a single statement, she was not sure.

Natasha began to bring herself to her feet, and took a tentative step towards him. The only light came from their wands, everything around them pitch black; it unnerved her, and her voice shook as she asked, “ What is it…that’s out there? ” Everything had been so sudden, it was all she could think of, her mind running rampant. “ How are we supposed to get out of here? ”

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That voice, fairly familiar, painfully lot sounding like one of the Aurors in the Ministry. The flickering lights revealed the man’s face, and as soon as it happened, Antoinne stood up, with a face colder than ice. Kala’s brother was not a man Rosier was fond of, and seeing him here now, only fired the flame in the Auror. He did not fully like his colleague to begin with, but her brother he despised. He knew of his intentions and goals, and was not even sure if Mani himself understood them. With words spoken through his teeth, Rosier replied to the man who inquired such things from him.

“You do not want to harm me yet you point a wand at me? Kala is not deployed here, and even if she was I haven’t seen her.“ Antoinne’s eyes quickly scanned the perimeter, only to find that the participants in the massacre only increased. He could see the stupid Malfoy in the distance, even, and he was sure he was not here to ‘protect the innocent.’ Cries pierced the night, agonizing in pain, but that passed around the Auror’s ears.

“You and your friends decided to join the party? Which drink would you offer me first?“ Antoinne’s words were filled with sarcasm and rage, as he was sure that Mani was not here to help him. Little did he know, that he stumbled on one of the most skilled Aurors in the Ministry, unfortunately for him. However, he did not let rage take control over him. He knew that only fools attacked first.

If his memory did not fail him, Mani was as wicked as all those other killers seeking purity out there, and it would be no surprise if the man opposing him was coming from the freshly-bombed Pureblood gathering. His senses told Antoinne, that this encounter would soon emerge into a duel, but he would never attack first. Not even when it was fools he was facing. “Come on, speak up.“ An intimidating smile appeared on his face, as fast as the Curses on Diagon Alley were flying.

Everything was so cold.

The evening had started off so well; the gathering of the Sacred families, Mani and his beloved Adaline the center of the piece, shining and glowing. He could barely keep his eyes off of his bride the entire night, so enticed by her beauty, her innocence. She was too pure to behold. Cecily had taken over the conversation, making her way through the crowds and charming them in the smooth and fascinating way she knew best, while Abraxas had been by his side, whispering in his ear how best to approach each person in the room, Mani still not being inducted to every part of the Pureblood circle that they had been. 

Marianne Crouch had been about to make a speech, long hair adorned with jewels as Cecily scoffed behind her hand, when it had all gone so wrong. The bombings had landed directly upon them, and suddenly everything was dropped into chaos. There were screams from every direction, blood soaking the pristine tiled floor, and he could only focus on Adaline in that moment. His sisters were worlds away to him, but his fiancee was beside him, clutching him as they tried to make their way to safety. It was too late for Marianne, however, and Mani was shaken as he watched her body fall to the ground as if a marionette had cut her strings.

That had been an hour ago, and here he was now, standing outside the ruins of the mansion with bruises on every part of his body and blood running down his chin, his teeth shattered inside. Mani was barely standing, but he had been one of the first to run out to the streets, hexing duels in every direction of the Muggle planes. Anger had began to run through his veins, a dark energy that he could not control; the audacity of the Muggles, to believe they could do such a thing. To take one of their very own, and believe they could get away with it? He knew he would not rest until every one of them bled in the same way poor Marianne was, until they wished they were dead, too.

He had been firing spells so fast and so often, he was acting purely on autopilot now. He was barely making sense of what he was doing, not even looking at the people he was duelling. Mani could feel Adaline close by, Abraxas on his other side, and that was enough in that moment. He had fired spells he had barely studied, things that were not of the Hogwarts curriculum, too dark to even utter, and yet he could feel no remorse in hearing the screams. The electricity flowing through him, the raw energy, was blinding. This was what he was meant for, wasn’t it? 

Mani found himself closing in on someone, a man, who was screaming in the face of someone who was clearly dead. He moved closer, and before he could fixate on a Curse to fire at him, the man had turned and was now facing him. Mani could barely recognise the features of the stranger—— wasn’t he the Auror? One of the Kala’s henchmen? Despite himself, he couldn’t help the way his stomach dropped, wondering if his sister was here. If he would see her blood next. “ Rosier, ” he remembered, his voice husky as he circled the man, wand ready. “ I do not want to harm you, so answer me quickly. Where is Kala? ”