(R.Rose HQ) Aftermath

[Fitz Hargreaves]

The doors of the Red Rose League Headquarters were flung wide unnecessarily banging due to Fitz's pent up frustration. Trotting quickly down the rottong stairs he jumped the last few, landing lightly and striding towards the rickety old table against the furthest wall. Flinging himself into one of the chairs Fitz plonked his feet up upon the table, trying in vain to make himself feel at ease. Pushing back upon the wooden chair he felt it's flimsy legs buckle a little, growling in chagrin he swung it backwards and forwards nonetheless, disregarding the inevitable collapse of his seating arrangement. Setting an easy rythm that began to settle his troubled mind, he abruptly stopped, disgruntled once again. Spinning the chair around he propped it against the wall, leaning his weary head back against the cool rock. Feet placed lazily upon the table once more, he filched parchment and quill from deep within the folds of his robe he'd draped across his flimsy orcale of a chair.

Beginning to draw his deepest and darkest thoughts he feverishly sketched out a hulking tree, the charred earth around it evidence to a blazing fire, a body stretched out, it's neck lolled back, mouth open wide in shock; a cry stifled in death. Grimacing at the drawing his mind's eye took him back clearly to the events; relaying them over in precise and exacting detail. It would haunt all those present he knew.

Folding the crinkled parchment in two he blew a while upon it; drying he placed it within a concealed pocket of his sky blue robes. Dirt smattered their hem lay thick with mud, yet he'd had no chance to change. Fitz knew his hair was dishevelled and he looked a picture of uncleanliness, it felt like dirt smeared all his body, clearly his clothes stank of the decaying forest floor, upon which he lain for some time. Picking a single leaf from his bedraggled hair he shook himself, running a calming hand through his short hair, ridding himself of the dirt there; but what of the dirt within? Though he had done no wrong this time; he felt the guilt of times gone by piercing unrelentingly upon him.

Dismissing a shockingly vivid memory that threatened to consume his subconcious Fitz, breathed deep calming breaths; dispelling his worries and concerns, like Quinn had so easily shrugged aside his attacks. Flexing his shoulders a smirk alighted and a twinkle could be seen in his eyes. Fitz knew what to do.

[Elijah Ellerby]

Elijah, after abandoning Fitz and McNevin back in the forest, had moments later received a patronus from McNevin ordering the League to meet in one hour at Headquarters. Realising it all would've been much easier to simply stay with the two of them and make his way back to HQ with McNevin, Elijah had just spent an infuriatingly long time trying to find a fireplace in Hogwarts that was connected to the Floo Network. He had found one, at last, in Professor Fagin's office - who obviously used it frequently for a booze run - and now trudged into the cellar (the place of his very first trip to the League's hideout) exhausted and bitter.

In the short time he had had to gather his thoughts, Elijah had come to realise that tonight's second disaster lay on his head. If he hadn't been late in meeting McNevin, the man would never have been discovered by those Ministry members, and Thom Moen wouldn't have been murdered.

Elijah's reason for drawing McNevin so dangerously close to the school had been the startling news that Lance had bought to Elijah and Aurélie earlier that night in The Three Broomsticks: Minister Marius Marvello was dead, and at the hands on one Illyana Deitrich. Shocked and unprepared, Elijah had hastily sent for McNevin to come immediately to the Forbidden Forest.

But, unknown to anyone else, Elijah had gone elsewhere first.

Now all he could think about was the terrible scene that had met his late arrival: Fitz and McNevin on the edge of defeat, and, moments later, a dead body.

Of course, it'd be interesting to see McNevin explain himself over that one. Death was necessary, but there were more important kills than ex-Hufflepuff Thom Moen to be made. McNevin had lost Elijah's trust in his judgement, that was for certain.

Breathing a sigh of relief to see only Fitz had arrived so far, neither of them exchanged any sort of greeting, for they had only seen - or, in Fitz's case, heard - one another barely an hour ago. Fitz was looking at a piece of parchment held up to his face. It was a drawing of some sort and Elijah frowned disapprovingly, wondering how he could be doodling at a time like this. The League's secrecy was in ruins, and all he could do was draw? Joining the reporter at the table Elijah too sat down, remaining silent.

Only one question now remained for Elijah: did he admit that this was all his fault?

[Marianne Crais]

Marianne was more than aware she had yet to actively do anything to support the Red Rose League. Despite this she had spent the last few weeks since she had met with the League doing nothing but think about them. When she heard word that Thom Meon had died in the Forbidden Forest she knew the League was involved.
Eager also to share the important news she had discovered Marianne had made the journey to Hogwarts as quick as she could manage.
Desperate for answers Marianne went to the only place she knew she could get them and hoped beyond all imagination that she would be provided with them.

"Hello?" She called out.

She had tried her best to sound forceful. Her fear and anticipation had, however, got the better of her. She could not manage the voice she used to use daily in court - before the Reforms began and her role changed to that of a desk monkey. Marianne missed the role she used to hold. She missed the ministry as it used to be. She was just old enough to remember the last days of the Shacklebott years. That was a just and proper government. What Dietrich was doing brought feelings of deep revulsion to Marianne's stomach.[/color][/font]

[Elijah Ellerby]

Elijah's tired, bleary eyes swiveled up toward door as he heard a woman's voice call out.

For a moment he sat frozen, panicking over who it could be - for it surely wasn't Aurélie - but he then remember the last meeting. A woman who he hadn't been able to speak to, but hadn't known how really. Fitz was also looking toward the stairs expectantly, but when neither of them made a move to go and greet her, Elijah reluctantly got up and made his way up the stairs, opening the door nervously. 'Ms Crais?' He asked solemnly, a polite frown on his dirt streaked face. Upon the sight of her he recalled her more clearly. A member of the Wizengamot, with an Order of Merlin, First Class.

Suddenly feeling rather rude - and worried he now looked a bit dim - Elijah hurriedly cleared his throat and stepped aside for Marianne, holding the door open for her. 'Only myself and Fitz Hargreaves are here at the moment, sorry. How did you hear about...?' Elijah trailed off meekly, a stupid question.

There were plenty of ways the League had to communicate, and it only stung him that they still didn't trust Elijah enough to provide him with all the ways. He was now afraid he had offended Marianne with his suspicions.

[Marianne Crais]

Marianne stepped past the student with a nod of recognition. She survayed the room with the eye of a professional.

"I have my own informers..." Marianne explained mysteriously.
Then she realised, she did feel she was quite trusted yet. She knew she would not get the trust she requried until she was honest with her fellow league members.

"I have an informer in the castle. They knew of the... disturbance. They came down to the Forest and discovered the scene." Marianne explained. "Who was the boy? Why was he killed?"

Marianne was yet to formulate an opinion on the killing of the boy. She knew killing was wrong but can something so morally wrong ever be justified?

[Elijah Ellerby]

Elijah closed the door behind Marianne and followed her back down the stairs, the bright, naked bulb throwing their contorted shadows up the walls, intensifying the headache Elijah had been experiencing for nearly two hours now. A heavy stone dropped into the bottom of his stomach as the woman requested the details. Elijah looked a Fitz hopefully, but the reporter stayed silent, disinterested. Elijah found him intensely rude.

Why do I have to do this? They never stop looking at me like I don't deserve to be here - now I have to be the one to give a bloody explanation? Elijah thought angrily, grinding his teeth. McNiven - how would he say it? Undoubtedly he would just try and save his own skin, justify it all. McNiven had no higher power to answer to here, but that didn't mean he was safe. How angry would the others be when they found out he had killed over a cloak? There's more to it than that, he tried to convince himself. But it wasn't working.

'I sent for McNiven to meet me by the school, to tell him some news Lance had bought to Aurélie and me in Hogsmede - ' He cleared his throat. ' - but when I got to McNiven, there were Ministry personnel already there. I arrived just in time to see...' He paused, his eyes flashing to Fitz, then back to Marianne. 'McNiven kill Thom Moen.'

Of course, Elijah had left out a few minor details - that he hadn't meant to be in Hogsmede, that he shouldn't have made McNiven come to the school, and that the Ministry officials would never have got there first if Elijah hadn't been late.

'You'll have to ask McNiven why he did it,' Elijah shrugged politely. 'Although I don't understand why he's not here yet...'

[Marianne Crais]

Marianne could sense the possibility of guilty feelings on Elijah's behalf. The mother in her wanted to sooth his guilt, hold him while he sobbed through the feelings.

The image flashed in her head. A wailing young man with his head in her lap, her gently stroking his hair. All the while McNiven and Hargreaves standing over then with their wands out pointing them at the corpse of the dead young man. The image was horrifying. Marianne hated her wild imagination. She hated that she could imagine the smell Elijah's shampoo as she held his head in her lap. She could imagine herself making the motherly cooing noised she had made many hundreds of times whilst looking after he own children.

"What's done is done." She said in a forceful way she hoped was a little soothing. "What I would like to know is what you learned from Mr Vance, how the minstry knew you would be there and who decided the use of deadly force was allowed? Despite the changes in the Ministry the majority of its employees still refuse to use unforgivable curses... I doubt they would've been used first..." Marianne's voice trailled away...

[Fitz Hargreaves]

A silent agreement was settled between the pair that had viewed the terrible scene; neither wished to speak of it, so they simply remained in complete silence Fitz simply acknowledging Elijah's presence with an inclination of the head. He sorely wanted to help; offer some words of advice, a real gem, a pearl of wisdom that Elijah could refer to in any dark time; yet nothing came.

Staring blankly ahead Fitz pondered hard upon how he could maintain his disguise at Hogwarts; but the Ministry now knew of his involvement in the Red Rose League; it was catastrophic, no longer could he work undercover gaining invaluable evidence and information. Eyes flickering upwards as the Wizengamot judge appeared, he sighed wearily; he wasn't in the mood for competing with her, being nice was the only way now. Registering her presence with the merest glance and the very slightest inclining of the head; compared to the full bowed neck to Elijah, Fitz remained quite contented to listen to them both; Elijah was imminently capable of informing Marianne; though of course he would never tell the intelligent young man for fear of inflating an ego, that could rival his own. No calling him boy and treating him lower than the rest was necessary to keep him clear of the biggest dangers. Or so Fitz had first thought, but now he realised gradually and begrudgingly that Elijah was far to embroilled in this mess to escape it now. He was as stuck as the rest; and as vital.

When Fitz spoke it seemed he hadn't listened at all to the conversation the two had been holding; yet in reality he had. Something Elijah had said needed addressing; urgently, for Elijah's sanity and peace of mind.
"You shouldn't have witnessed that." He croaked, feeling their eyes boring into him Fitz continued knowing he had interupted them. "But you did, you're as stuck fast as all of us now, I...well I've treated you differently, as a child because I wanted you to escape Elijah, you shouldn't have to bear what we go through, I think that of myself often enough. I'm too young for it, but really you've wits beyond your years." Fitz explained with a gruff laugh, seemingly reminiscing and not holding his usual fierce contact with those he spoke to.

Running a hand through his bedraggeled hair Fitz grumbled inaudibly, then stated with a laugh and a growing energy, "people don't usually get compliments like that from me...so cherish them." He smirked knowing it wasn't really enough of an excuse.

Turning and fixing Marianne with a hard look more so for himself than her he stated solemnly, "he's not a boy, we can't treat him like one now. I'm sorry Elijah, but welcome to the Red Rose League proper, it's too late to turn back."

[redrose]

The door to the cellar creaked open, rather more calmly than when the others had entered. Aurélie plodded down the steps, her arms full of books, parchment and scrolls, obscuring her view of the others. She dropped them all down onto the vast wooden table that filled most of the room, and jumped back in shock when she realised her and Michael weren't the only ones in the HQ any more.

'Ven did you all get 'ere??' She exclaimed, before running back up a few of the steps and calling upstairs. 'Mike! Zey are back!' She returned back to the table and began sorting through all the parchment she had brought in. 'Vot took you so long.. we 'ave got so much to do.' Aurélie said, more to herself than anyone, secretly glad that there was something significant happening to get her out of the stuffy pub. 'I presume Elijah has filled you in Nick-' She stopped, realising she couldn't see the leader in the room.

'Vair iz Nick?' She turned to Elijah with a confused expression, finally taking in his worse for wear appearance. 'Fitz-' She stopped. The reporter was far from his usual up beat, clean cut self. 'Merlin.' Aurélie stared. 'Vot happened?'

[Elijah Ellerby]

Elijah sat back down at the tables. Licking his lips he realised just how dry they were, and seeing that nothing expect a broad table and several chairs sat in the cellar, Elijah conjured a pot of tea and several china cups and sauces before him. Pouring himself a cup, Elijah took one slow slip before continuing, his sore throat relishing the scalding liquid. ‘I wasn’t there to witness the beginnings of the fight,’ he continued, not looking at Marianne anymore, although her dismissal of the first tragic news helped him relax a little. ‘I’m not sure how long it’d gone on, but that was the only Unforgivable I saw.’ This fact forced Elijah to ponder for a moment. Was McNiven definitely the only one to have used an Unforgivable? ‘I was going to tell McNiven about Illyana Deitrich and Marius Marvello. He’s – ‘

It was then that Fitz spoke for the first time since they had gathered in the cellar. Marianne and Elijah looked at him in surprise as he began to talk about Elijah, his eyes hard like marbles and full of fierceness as he stared at the Gryffindor, as if he were looking at him properly for the first time. When the reporter had finished, the hardness in his face slowly subsiding back into weariness, there was a long moment of silence. Elijah’s face was burning so much ice would’ve turned to steam on it. ‘Thank you, Fitz,’ He replied quietly. ‘That… that means a lot to me. I’ve been hoping someone might say that, actually.’ He gave a soft, bashful laugh. A bubble of intense pride and appreciation had expanded in his chest, and he even managed to muster a small smile. ‘Well, someone’s got to polish your Zimmer frames.’ He joked.

The cellar door began open, and a stack of books with two legs began to descend. Elijah breathed a sigh of relief, glad that more people had now arrived. Perhaps Aurélie would do a better job of explaining about Marvello to Marianne, who he realised probably hadn’t found Fitz and Elijah’s tender moment all that helpful.

‘Aurélie.’ Elijah spoke. He winced as the Frenchwoman started in surprise, nearly dropping her books. ‘Lance is here?’ Elijah swallowed, wondering if the Auror was still in the same state he had been in The Three Broomsticks. By the puzzled look on Aurélie’s face Elijah realised forlornly that she didn’t know what had happened either. Fitz once again had fallen unhelpfully quiet. ‘When I went to meet McNiven – after I left you – he’d been found by a group of Ministry officials before I’d managed to get there. There was a fight, and… well, they know who Fitz and McNiven really are now, and they’re probably very angry because McNiven…’ Elijah paused, flooding with guilt. He felt like he was ratting on McNiven to whoever would listen. ‘… he killed one of them.’

[Nicholas McNiven]

McNiven pushed open the front door of the headquarters, this body aching with every movement, his face was clear of any emotion and his blood stained hand was still wrapped tightly around his wand. The head quarters was as normal silent, just how he liked it. As he walked slowly through the unfurnished corridors he could hear voices in the distance coming from the cellar and by the sound it there was quite a gathering. Pushing open the old door he waited for a moment so his eyes got used to the light before slowly descending down the wooden steps. He heard the end of the boys tale, everyone seemingly hanging on his every word, those who were absent trying to make up their own minds on the situation. McNiven did a quick head count to see how had turned up and was almost waiting for every eye in the cellar to turn towards him.

Running his blood covered hand over his greying stubble McNiven waited and carefully looked at everyone in the room. Fitz and Elijah were still splattered with the filth of battle while the two females seemed fresh however seemingly anxious. Raising his eyebrow slightly at the last remark he heard Elijah say McNiven breathed in deeply, his chest raising his head held high.

“And I do not deny it. It is a regrettable death but if I was in the same situation I would do the same thing again.” McNiven stopped and turned around and began to walk back up the steps again. However he only got up a few more steps when he stopped and gave a rouge laugh. “I would have killed that women too. Now if you excuse me I am going for a wash.”

He continued to walk up the stirs and out of the cellar door, he was expecting to hear people calling after him, outrage and half expecting the boy to attack him back, he seemed strangely close to the dead one. McNiven never really understood the meaning of friendships in his experience they had always been for personal gain.

[Marianne Crais]

"Well... its interesting to see the true colour of our fearless leader." Marianne mumbled to herself. She watched McNiven with a slight touch of desire.

Collecting herself together and aranging her thoughts Marianne took it upon herself to address the group.

"What is our next step? Where is this little band headed. If we are headed down the line of killing and destruction I will head for the door now. If we are headed down a more... constructive path then I will stay."

Marianne paused, perhaps far to briefly, to allow the others to speak. None took the fleeting oppertunity so she again filled the silence.

"Illyana Deitrich has a daughter. She has hidden her from the world but she exists. I have evidence."

With that Marianne fell silent. She would wait however long it took to get a reply this time. She had, for the first time in a long while, nothing else to say.

[Nicholas McNiven]

(This thread seems to have died so I am here to make it alive again hehe *Starts CPR*)

McNiven hate blood, it made things look untidy and after the blood red shade had turned to a dry brown he resented the fact even more. And the mere fact that his hands were covered in the substance made things even worse. As he walked up the old stairs towards the wash room he made sure not to make eye contact with anyone else who was walking around the HQ, he did not need their disapproving glances, not when he was in the right.

Sliding of his jacket to revel even more cuts McNiven gave a slight groan. It was not that he was in pain but the mere fact that it would be clear to anyone who saw him that he had been in some for of skirmish, and it was not the look you needed particular when you had just murdered a member of the ministry.

The water was cold, and as it flowed over his cuts cleaning out the dried blood and filth from the forest floor his whole body tingled. He enjoyed this feeling, the idea that he was clean and the blood was being washed away. It was if the memories of the incident were being washed away. Not wanting to carry anymore signs of the battle on him he wondered towards his own office which for the past few weeks had doubled up as his sleep quarters and lit the fire. As the warm flames hit his face McNiven and with a small sign of remorse he threw his cloths in the fire, watching as they were slowly engulfed by the flames and more evidence was destroyed.

With clean boots and a fresh suit on McNiven headed back down to the cellar where he knew the others would still be, squabbling between themselves, passing stories and negative thoughts and McNiven knew who would behind it all, Elijah. That boy was trouble and he was the one who had gotten everyone into this mess in essence, but McNiven knew there was no point passing on blame, it did not get you anywhere.

As he walked back down the steps into the dark of the cellar his experienced eyes scanned over everyone, taking in the silence that was filling the room. Their questioning eyes and mournful faces were stuck upon him, their leader who had pushed their morals to the extreme.
Running his tongue over his dry lips, McNiven’s slick Scottish voice rang out as he stood in front of them all, arms folded and head held high.

“What do you want me to say? I refuse to apologise to any of you weak individuals. I was the only one who took any action, I was not hiding or lying in the dirt because I had been hexed by a women. I was the only one fighting for what I believe in.”

[michael]

<sub>'And let us leave it at that.' Michael entered the room with a dark expression, cutting in with his usual succinct manner. 'What we should be discussing is the fact that the ministry now have three faces to work with.' His gaze went from Fitz, to Elijah, and finally fell on Nicholas, though he did not quite meet his eye. 'We can't be an organisation working silently hidden from the spot light any more. The ministry knows who half of us are.'

The auror took a seat around the League's wooden table. 'This evening I was informed by Deitrich herself that the Minister of Magic is dead, which means that the top job has been automatically passed to her.' He paused, allowing the signifance of what he was saying to sink in. ‘The Rogue Wizards are gathering closer and closer to Hogwarts, after the exact same thing as the new Minister – an unknown powerful object.’ He switched his gaze from person to person, though he knew he had the full attention of them all. ‘Deitrich is putting all her power into finding this object. So I think we've finally got something to focus our efforts on-' The sides of his mouth moved upward into something like a smile. '-We need to find this item before anyone else, and most likely destroy it.'

Michael was feeling more pleased than he had in months, which could seem extremely odd considering the evenings events. Finally, at least as far as he was concerned, things were becoming clear. They had a specific task that he considered to be very significant if they succeeded.</sub>