round 3 overflow post

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Round 3 Overflow Post

This post is for Round 3 fills only. We ask that when a round hits 8500 comments, fillers begin moving their fills to this post.

Format:
SUBJECT LINE -- Round #, short description of fic (ex: "Alex/Hank, lab partners")
--- Link to the prompt
--- Text of the prompt

--- Link to the fill
OR
--- Entire text of the fill

EXAMPLE:
Prompt: http://xmen-firstkink.livejournal.com/6437.html?thread=1038472#t2038174

Charles/Erik -- Charles is a bakery owner whose most frequent customer is Erik.

Fill: http://xmen-firstkink.livejournal.com/6437.html?thread=0139482#t4502942

Charles started off the morning the same way he always did...

Comments

FILL: The Better Men (21b/30ish)

[(Anonymous)]

Erik tried to look calm, perfectly normal, and still navigate the hallways as speedily as possible. He'd already put up a CLASS CANCELED sign in the Divination room and was headed for Potions when he crossed paths with Angel on a staircase.

"Good morning, Erik," Angel said, looking awkward and sad, and Erik nearly passed her with nothing more than an acknowledging nod– then stopped.

"Angel," he said. "How was Shaw's 'thing' out at the lake last night?"

She blinked at him. "Oh, it was... all right. I guess. It was... kind of strange, actually."

"Tell me."

"Well..." She glanced around nervously, stepped closer. "Shaw gave some kind of speech about a new era beginning. Everyone was pretty confused. Then he had us stand in a circle and brought a bunch of people into the middle – Azazel's boyfriend was one – a few of them were students, looking like they'd been dragged out of bed! And he did some kind of spell, nothing I recognized, and then he... he bled on them. He cut his arm, and painted on their foreheads with the blood." She swallowed hard, and Erik realized that, more than nervous, she actually she looked< i>scared.

Erik's belly felt cold and hollow. "Who did he mark with the blood?"

"Gertie Goyle, Jana Crouch, and Mort Toynbee – they were the students."

"Toynbee's Muggle-born," Erik murmured. "The other two – aren't they half-blood?"

"Yes. He said something about purifying them, protecting them."

"And the adults?"

"Azazel's boyfriend, Janos, like I said. The others, I didn't know them, but Professor Shaw said their names... there was Jason something, Windham, Wyngarde? And a Nathaniel Essex, he was scary looking. A woman, one of the Black half-bloods. And another man... Stryker. Last name Stryker."

William Stryker, Erik knew, was a high-ranking Ministry official – Muggle-born, the rumors said, despite his draconian pro-pureblood leanings. Nathaniel Essex he'd seen mentioned in the newspapers, wanted for some particularly bizarre and brutal murders. It gave him chills to think of the man being on Hogwarts grounds.

"What do you think it means, Erik?" Angel whispered. "What's going on?"

"Nothing good. Keep your head down, and stay away from Shaw." Erik took a deep breath and continued down the stairs.

When he got to Charles's room, he found the door unlocked for him and Charles cross-legged before the window, eyes closed.

"Get a pen and paper, Erik," he said without moving or looking up. His voice was soft and even, dreamy, almost inflectionless. "Muggle-style, no messing with inkwells."

Erik took a pen and a sheet of Muggle paper from the desk, and a book to brace it on, and took a seat.

"I'm in Shaw's office right now," Charles said. "Remembering. Looking through his desk. I need you write down everything I say."
"I'm ready."

"Books on administration and leadership. Books on dueling. Star charts. Come back to that. Student records – Imogen Cox and Dolly Dursley. Maps. Come back to those. Diagrams of the following: Dolohov's Curse. Body-Bind Curse. Basilisk's Gaze. Sectumsempra. Levicorpus. One unlabeled. Come back to those. Inside the drawer. Parchment – didn't read it. Family photograph. Wand case. Wand." His eyes snapped open, though they remained unfocused. The pupils were drawn down to pinpricks. "Long. Black. Blackthorn, or I'm a goblin. Did I see –I did. A glimmer of gold at the base. Lehnsherr mark.< i>Erik."

"My wand." Erik's vision was clouding over with rage. He began pacing the room, as an alternative to destroying it.< i>"My wand. Why? Why would he… Lehnsherr wands are valuable, yes, but what good does it do him locked in a drawer? He can't use a stolen wand openly – can't use it all, not my wand, a blackthorn isn't going to hop to for any old wizard who picks it up—" He stopped cold.

"You don't lose a wand in a practice duel."
"True, and yet nothing about that duel felt particularly practice-like, did it?"

Erik was light-headed now with rage.

"Calm your mind, Erik," Charles said distantly. "We're not done. Shaw's coming in the door now, I don't have time to look at anything else, but I can go back. Go backward."