The Aftermath (Felisane)

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Immediately after Nightshade attack in Hogsmeade; Jan 2021.
Trigger warning: torture, murder, death of a child.

Felicia was pacing, and the moment she started doing that, people were well aware that she was not to be toyed with; she never paced. It was worse than yelling, too. At least when she yelled, everyone knew that she would use up her anger in her shouting, and the punishment would be less. When she paced and said nothing? Well, that was when most people chose to hide.

"Isaac?" she called, tone no louder than it needed to be, stopping in her movements. Her wand was in her hand, although she was holding it lightly and by her side.

The male looked at her questioningly.

"Did you sanction the means used to escape?" she asked, and once again, her tone was quiet. It wasn't an accusation; it was a genuine question.

"I wouldn't, Licia; you know I wouldn't," he replied, knowing that she wasn't blaming him. She nodded once, then turned towards the men standing in a row. Her eyes held no sense of emotion, although inside she could feel that familiar rage building. Biting it back for now, she let her gaze travel slowly, starting at the first man and then moving further down the line, until she had looked each and every person there carefully and slowly.

She wanted them to be very sure of what she was doing before she did it.

"Who decided to use a child as leverage?" she asked, then. This time, there was a warning in her soft voice, almost unnoticable. A second passed, and it was a second too long. "Who," she said, pronouncing the word carefully and slowly, "used a child," she went on, "as leverage?" This time, the warning note was stronger, a dispassionate, cold ring to it, and there was no mistaking that it was her version of holding a gun to someone's head. Still her wand remained loose in her hand, but all eyes were on it.

Almost tentatively, a man in the line adverted his gaze and said, "I-I d-"

He didn't have a chance to finish. Nonchalantly, without so much as blinking or faltering, Felicia raised her wand and said, calmly, "Crucio."

The screaming started immediately, and those around the man flinched but didn't move away -- couldn't, not with Felicia and Isaac there. The entire time, Felicia watched, no smile on her face and no signs of any feelings registering in either her eyes or her posture as the man writhered and screamed, the occasional beg seeping through. Her arm was steady and her gaze cold and piercing as he continued to scream. She counted down the seconds. A hundred and twenty later, she gave the wand a flick and ended the spell.

The man lay panting, sobbing, still begging, and she waited until he had calmed down enough to look up at her. "If you ever touch a child again, that will be the only thing you feel for the rest of your life -- and I will make sure that it is a very long life indeed." The threat -- no, the promise -- was made casually, as one would discuss the weather, without emphasis on any words, and then she jerked her head towards the exit. "Go. I don't wish to see you anymore today."

He stumbled to his feet and was gone in seconds.

She looked back at the line of men. "One last question," she said. "Humphrey Williams, I am told. Fourteen, Hufflepuff." She paused, making sure she was looking at all the men carefully; she would know who it was without them needing to say so. "Who killed him?" She paused for a split second, noting all their postures and faces, and then smiled. It wasn't a warm one, nor was it cold; it simply was, and then she pointed at one of them. "You did." It wasn't a question, and nobody either affirmed or denied it.

"The rest of you may leave," she said, then. "Isaac only wishes to talk to him."

The rest left at once, leaving Felicia and Isaac alone with the child-killer. Turning, Felicia looked at Isaac, a subtle raising of her eyebrow inviting him to take over; he would need answers before he would allow her to her deal with the traitor, that much she knew.

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Isaac had been hugely disappointed with the most recent of attacks. They'd been ahead of the Aurors. They were closing in on the first sword. But, having trusted the wrong person to lead the attack, the attack had been foiled. Children had died, and Isaac had been helpless to control the men loyal to their cause.

Blood lust was a weakness that neither he nor Felicia could afford.

After managing to scrape home from the attack -- making sure no one was left to talk to the Aurors on the Nightshade side -- Isaac had relayed the ordeal to Felicia. Not leaving an ounce of detail out of his rendition. He'd hesitated at the mention of the child who'd been killed by one of the idiots they'd taken on. Isaac had known Felicia wouldn't like the detail, but he would never lie to her. He couldn't.

The meeting had been called in the very next instant, Isaac sat at the back in a wooden chair, one foot sat resting on his knee as he looked out of the window idly. Felicia's stare was brutal enough, he, no, they needed no additional power in that moment. His own eyes were on the sky outside, but his concentration was on Felicia's words.

This meeting was for her benefit. Isaac knew the answers already. A show of power before the masses, though, deterred the others from mistakes in the future. It was unsurprising to Isaac, then, that the moment someone confessed a jet of red hurtled across the room and brought screams from the man who'd admitted to using a child as leverage.

The screams filled the room, and Isaac averted his eyes from the window to the other men, watching them intently as they flinched from the man's screaming but didn't move. Isaac's features remained calm, unmoved by the screams. His eyes flickered only momentarily to the body on the floor when Felicia stopped the curse, before returning to the window. The sound of scrambling ensued. A door opened and closed. And there was a momentary silence around them.

But Felicia pressed on, calling for the murderer in the room. A few moments and she'd read them all and decided who the killer was. Isaac hid a smirk, he knew all too well that Felicia's talent would not be hindered by these morons. More movement and then the room held only three. Felicia's words seemed to have relaxed the man in to a false hope.

Whilst he, Isaac, only wished to talk, the same could not be said of Felicia. But the males of their group were not clever enough to recognise that Felicia held as much weight in decisions as he did. Isaac's eyes once again moved from the window to see Felicia's small raise of an eyebrow and he raised himself from his chair, moving to the desk and drumming his fingers against the desk momentarily before looking to the man before him.

"Tell me, Rogers, did we not make it clear that children were not to be harmed in any manner?" Isaac asked softly, his voice didn't need to be raised to command the room.

"Yes, sir, he was just-"

"And yet you decided to injure the boy no much so that he died. Do you not think that's going against your orders?"

"Yes sir, but if I had-"

"What do you think a fourteen year old could do that would harm us, that we couldn't deal with?"

"Sir, I sim-"

"You simply didn't think, Rogers. And now, you're a liability to all of us." Isaac told the man, moving from the desk, past Felicia where he touched her hand only slightly to denote it was nearly time. Just a moment more. "We've worked too hard to get this far, Rogers. And, I'm afraid I've run out of uses for you." Isaac told the man. Rogers' jaw was set. His eyes panicked as Isaac stood before him. A moment. Two.

The man sank to his knees weeping before Isaac. Begging for forgiveness. Claiming he would do anything as he tried to cling to Isaac's leg.

Shaking him off, Isaac turned away, back towards his chair.

"Do what you want with him, Felicia. I've done talking." He told her, no louder than a whisper as he condemned the man to death. A death that had already been sentenced hours ago by his own hand.

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[[OOC: I HAVE NO SELF CONTROL. I also got carried away, I'm sorry it's so long xD Don't feel a need to match.]]

Isaac hadn't really needed to talk to the man, Felicia knew. He had the same reports that she did, and if she already knew who did it, there was no denying that he did, too. Still, they did everything together, and it was more for a show-and-tell lesson the others would never forget than a lesson for the traitor himself. After all, dead people weren't particularly good students.

She watched, no emotion on her face, as he dealt with Rogers. The questions weren't meant to be answered -- any idiot could see that -- but the male still tried. Still hoped that, somehow, he would keep his life. A death sentence, she'd found, was obvious to those who received it; by the way the others had looked at him when they left, it was also obvious they knew they wouldn't see him alive again. A pity, really. She hated having to kill people, especially for something as stupid as disobeying orders. Why didn't they ever learn?

A smile was directed at Isaac's touch, and then she straightened her face once more, watching, eyes cold. The panic was clear, but she felt no sympathy. Why would she? He'd broken the golden rule she and Isaac had instilled, and that came with consequences. Everything did.

His weeping only irritated her and proved that Rogers was no longer worth keeping around. They needed strong soldiers, those that stared death in the face and laughed, even if scared, even if terrified, and those that would willingly die for the cause without any of this pathetic babbling of mercy and forgiveness.

She let him grovel for a few moments, allowing Isaac to move back to his chair, and then she took out her wand, turning it over a few times in her hand, making sure Rogers could see what she was doing. His crying got worse. Deliberately, slowly, she put the wand down onto Isaac's desk and stepped forward.

"Anything?" she repeated, tone silky soft, almost a gentle purr, and not threatening in the least. "Anything at all?"

A flicker of hope shone in his eyes as he glanced up at her, still on his knees. Tears made both eyes and cheeks glimmer as it refracted the light, and he let out a hiccup as he tried to speak. He took in a shuddering breath. "Anything. Please."

"In exchange for?" she asked, and in his desperation, he missed the hint of danger.

"My life!" he replied, not hesitating. "I will be your slave for life. I'll..." he faltered, not knowing what else he could offer, and then concluded, "I'll do anything if you spare me."

Felicia looked at him for a few moments, as though considering it, allowing the hope she planted to take root, deliberately kindling it with a thoughtful look she was careful to maintain. Then, half a minute later, she dipped her eyebrows in a frown. "Anything for your life," she repeated, allowing him to nod, to dig himself deeper into the hole she had created. "Isn't that interesting, Isaac?" she said, louder, turning to glance at her boyfriend. "He'd be willing to do anything for his life. I wonder, if he'd been captured by Aurors... Would he say the same?"

She turned back to look at Rogers, and this time her expression was hard, and her tone cold. "Would you say the same, Rogers?"

Violently, he shook his head. "No, I-"

She interrupted him. "And yet you would promise us anything? What if that anything was to die in captivity of Aurors? Or of those fighting against us?" She paused. "How can I trust that you would give up your life then, if you aren't willing to do so with us?"

A moment passed. "Stand up." She wasn't asking, and there was no disobeying that tone of voice. Slowly, starting to sob once more, he stood. "Stop that crying. You sound like a baby." He choked back a sob, but the tears kept coming.

Felicia stood there, waiting, and a few moments later, there was a knock on the door. With a wave of her hand, it opened, and a man entered. He was slightly pale, as though feeling sick, but he hid it behind a mask of calm. He closed the door behind him and stood by it, nodding once at Felicia. She had asked him to come at a certain time, and he'd been there on the dot, not a second later or earlier; he'd been well trained.

Turning back to Rogers, she considered him for a moment longer. Then, with an air of finality, she said, "Choose: Grace, Faith, or Patience?"

He let out a wail. It was a mixture of hopelessness, fear, and grief, and did nothing to stir any emotions in Felicia. Instead, she raised an eyebrow. "I believe I told you to stop crying." She gave him a couple of seconds to stop, then concluded, "Choose."

Softly, brokenly, he muttered, "Grace."

Without acknowledging him, she turned to the second man and gave him a nod. He opened the door, calling out instructions to someone there. A couple of minutes later -- during which Rogers had started to cry again, although he was doing his best not to sob openly -- there was an echoing bark and a huge German Shepherd came bounding in, pulling on her lead. The person leading her was jogging to keep up, but as soon as Grace was in the room, he let go; both he and the other man left.

The dog came bounding over to Felicia, and she bent down to cradle her head, cooing gently over her 'good girl'. "Sit," she commanded, and Grace sat by her feet at once. "Stay," she went on.

Then, she turned to Isaac. "I'm going for a cup of coffee; I could really use one right about now. Do you want to come, dear? I know you don't really like watching these things, but you can if you want to."

As always, Isaac stood, sending her a smile. "I'll come," he said, and she let him walk to her side. Gently taking his hand into hers, she interwound their fingers, and then started to the main door. He opened it, and gestured for her to go first; she shook her head, and he stepped forward. Following him out, she paused just before she closed the door and looked back into the room. Rogers stood, shoulders shaking with his quiet crying, watching them leave. Grace sat a few feet away, tongue hanging out, panting as she usually did, obeying her master as always.

Felicia looked straight at Rogers, waiting until he caught her eyes before, in a voice that wasn't louder than it needed to be, she firmly and simply said, "Attack." She closed the door and allowed Isaac to lead her forward, the screams of the man echoing down the narrow hall as they walked.

Guest

Felicia was toying with Rogers, Isaac was more than aware of that as she took out her wand for the room to see. Though the room was only two people, he knew Felicia was working it as if she had an audience. Everything so clear, and yet deliberate. The subtle message, as she placed her wand down on the desk, that she didn't need her wand to do what she was going to do to him.

And, for a moment, Isaac was sure he could see the understanding in the man's eyes. This was not, by any means, going to be a quick death with an Unforgivable Curse.

Had that not been in itself quite frightening for the servant of theirs, then it was nothing close to desperation that kept him talking to Felicia like he had a hope of getting out of it. Though, Isaac conceded that he could not blame the man, faced with a beauty such as Felicia, feeding you false hope from her intelligently spoken words would have had any man becoming putty in her hands.

Had Felicia been a child, Isaac might have admonished her for being mean to others, but, she wasn't. And, well, Isaac was simply amused with the way she was dealing with Rogers. It took all of his strength to fight back the laugh he wanted to let out at the pathetic nature of the other man, but he knew better than to laugh, to ruin the moment, the picture they were both trying to represent.

Felicia's attention turned to him, though, and a small smirk played on his features in response. He didn't need words, Felicia would know of his amusement, he would know his decision hadn't swayed from the one they'd made originally on how to deal with all of this.

Which meant she could continue.

As Felicia sentenced him to death -- for Isaac knew that the dogs would never leave someone alone until they were called off -- Isaac readied himself to move. He loved their dogs, but he didn't like to watch them go at a body. It was one of the most brutal killing methods he knew, and his stomach... his stomach was not cut out for such things.

Grace sat before Rogers as instructed, and as Felicia asked him if he would like to join her for coffee, he agreed. Raising from his seat, Isaac picked up Felicia's wand from his desk and moved to her, allowing her hand to take his own as they crossed to the door. No words, yet, they could wait until they were alone. A short pause at the door denoted Felicia giving the order. A growl, a silent lunge, and then screams. Momentarily, Isaac closed his eyes until the door closed behind Felicia. The screams didn't die away, no, but as they walked, they seemed to diminish if only slightly.

They walked the hall until they got to the kitchen, and Isaac opened the door for Felicia once more, letting her hand go as he moved to the coffee machine and made the preparations for their coffees. He was busying himself, a clear sign that he was working up to speaking, but relaying the words he wanted to say out in a coherent manner. Felicia would read him, he knew that much, but he'd learnt to accept that many years ago.

As the machine kicked in to action, drowning out all other noise, Isaac turned back to Felicia with something of a strained look on his features. "It still doesn't feel enough." He admitted, meaning Rogers death in exchange for the boy's life. But, also in letting the other idiot get away with using the child as a hostage, too. "I thought we'd been clear that should any children come in the way, they were not to be harmed..." He explained, jaw setting for a moment as he shook his head and turned to the machine and took the first cup from under the spout and then placed another.

The gentle shaking of his arm denoted the chocolate sprinkles being placed across the top of the coffee, but his body was tense. Not moving as freely as it normally would.

"Not to mention we allowed the easiest sword to lay our hands on slip through our fingers as if it were not even there. I should have gone myself." He added, turning to Felicia with the cup and holding it out towards her. "We're putting too much trust in the idiots around us." He stated, not meaning any blame on Felicia, but venting.

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As they continued down the hallway, the screams followed, growing softer as they got futher until, abruptly, they stopped. Grace was done; she would go off attack mode, and the man in charge would be able to enter the room and collect her, take her for a bath and brush her teeth. Later, after the blood had been washed off and her breath didn't smell of human flesh, Licia would visit her with some food and lots of praise for a job well done.

In this manner, the only person who would ever be able to order Grace around (and Faith, and Patience) was her; she was the only one, besides Isaac, who could give a command and be listened to. Anyone else who tried would get bitten. That had also been part of the training the dogs received.

Not so much as hesitating, Licia followed Isaac into the kitchen, taking a seat at one of the barstools as she waited for Isaac to make her a coffee. Watching him, she noted the emotions passing across his face, however subtle, and his posture. He had something he wanted to say, that much was clear, but Licia could only vaguely guess at what it was he wanted to bring up. Many things had happened, and many things needed to be discussed. Which he chose to bring up first was not something she could tell; they were all equally important.

Instead, she prepared answers for all the topics she knew he would raise, so that whenever he did speak, she would have an answer ready and didn't need to waste time thinking.

His first comment came and she filed it away. Still she didn't speak, recognising he wasn't quite done yet, and she let him add chocolate to her coffee -- the way she always had it -- in silence. Only when he had turned back to her and continued did she smile, accepting the cup.

"I'm not done with them," she said, simply. "I have arranged for the remains of Rodgers to be placed in their dorm room. They are not to touch it until a week has passed." Carefully, she took a sip of the foam on top, savouring the taste of the mocha. It was perfect, as it always was when Isaac made it, and she smiled again. "I also have auditions lined up for an interrogator, and we need ... volunteers ... for them to show us what they are capable of on. I shall be sure to notify them exactly why they are volunteering; I doubt anybody would dare break the rules after this."

Pausing again to allow Isaac to get the second cup of coffee, she waited until he was sitting as well before continuing. "There is no point in 'should've's, Zac, you know that. Perhaps we should have been there, but what's the point in saying it? We now know our current batch of people cannot be trusted; I think it is time we started looking for more members."

They'd been keeping their numbers small in order to maintain their level of secret operation, but there was no denying that if they wanted to get things done, they would have to start expanding. "If it would make you feel better, I can conduct interviews for each person interested in us and screen out idiots from those who would remain loyal to us," she added.

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Isaac's worry that the others were getting off lightly was confirmed by Licia's explanation of her plans. He never doubted she would be easy on those who disobeyed, he had just not been fully informed of the rest of her plans. He didn't need to be, until necessary, because he trusted her judgement without question.

Turning back to the machine to get his own coffee, Isaac cleaned the spout off with a cloth before turning back to Felicia and taking the seat opposite her.

Before all this, he would have been so deadly set against violence. But their loss, losing almost everything at the hands of Yve's parents had almost flicked a switch on that opinion. There was nothing, nothing in this world that could be considered too much when it came to revenge against Yve's parents and all those who believed their power left them untouchable.

Nothing, except Felicia.

The reminder that should haves not being useful made Isaac nod slowly, eyes averting from his partner with a brief look of apology. They'd been through this before, on a different level, when they'd lost Yve and Hope, and the Abel. Would haves, could haves, should haves, didn't change what had happened. It only made you suffer more, and Isaac knew better than to wallow.

"New members... yes." Isaac agreed, trying to decide upon what they were going to do with the ones they had. They were not good enough for larger, more important missions. But, that did not mean they were useless to them. That was food for thought.

Felicia's idea of a screening made Isaac look back to her with concern, his hand moving to cover one of hers. "You cannot be the public face of this, Licia." He told her firmly. "Neither one of us can. The Ministry don't currently know what they're dealing with." He reminded her, he didn't need to bring up the possibility of being outed by new recruits that Felicia turned away.

"But, they do need to be screened. We can't afford another slip up." Isaac mused out loud, trying to work his mind around it. "Polyjuice?" He offered up, it was a difficult potion but between them... he was sure they would have the expertise to get through.

"Two of the swords are now within the school, though. We're going to have to find a way to extract them." Isaac continued on, because they had a number of things to work through. "Without children getting hurt this time." He added, because he was simply not going in to the school without a good plan.

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The movement made her smile slightly, both to comfort him and in amusement that, after everything, he was still worried. He'd seen what she was capable of, even helped her with it. Was he still concerned that someone could get past her defences? Worried that she'd get hurt, somehow? No, Licia was too careful for that. She'd been planning things most of her life, and they'd been talking about it for so long, there was no way that anyone could hurt either of them. They'd already lost so much; they wouldn't lose each other, too.

It was all they had left.

Of course, Isaac would only see the first meaning; the amusement was private, and not something she'd let him know about. He was always so worried, not that she blamed him. She was, too, but for different reasons.

She nodded at his next words. That was true, too, and they both knew it. How their last members bad become so... inept, she didn't know, nor did she want to find out. It was a mistake on both their parts -- they should've done better, looked harder for weak spots -- and it was in the past. Those that had messed up would learn their lessons and, with luck, either die learning it or buck up and become better, if not the best. Pain, she knew, was a very good teacher and motivator.

But at the potion, she lifted a shoulder and shook her head. "You know I dislike the taste of it; besides, it's a tough potions, and we'd need it in buckets with the amount of interviews lined up."

Instead of answering outright, though, she shifted her hand so that she could hold Isaac's, her thumb gently stroking his. "I'll use a wig and a few simple charms. They won't recognise me, and it's easier than polyjuice," she said. "You know it has to be me doing the interviews; I did those for a living. I know how to weed out the good ones and the bad ones, the ones who will fight and the ones who will run. It's what I'm good at, 'Zac." Her tone was almost apologetic, as if saying sorry for having to put herself in this position. "I'll be fine; I'll conduct it somewhere away from here, but in private, and I'll have some of our people standing guard nearby in case of anything."

She let out a tiny sigh. "You're not going to like this, 'Zac," she said, simply, "but hear me out." She paused to take a sip of her coffee, cleared her throat, and gave his hand a tiny, reassuring squeeze. "There's a student -- Violet Lynch, sixth year Hufflepuff. She's not normal, from what I've heard, and I don't mean that negatively -- I mean quite literally that she's psychotic. I think she's our way in." She let a second pass, and then added, "Not now, and not yet; I don't think we can do it anytime soon. They're suspicious and on the lookout. We will get the swords, but in time; if we move now, I'm afraid we might be caught. Our people aren't... trained well enough yet."

Guest

Isaac listened as Felicia explained how she would deal with the interviews, what precautions she would take, though she would not be using Polyjuice Potion. Isaac knew that he had to trust her, because she was more than capable, but that did not mean that he was less than worried about the situation.

"Taking only our best people." Isaac replied to her explanation, he wouldn't add anything more.

Felicia did not, and had never, needed his protection, but he would not allow her to go in to this without the right back up. Too much would be at stake, and Isaac was not prepared to take any more risks with their operations. They would do what was necessary, do it with very careful, meticulous plans, and nothing more would be done.

As Felicia continued -- stating that he was not going to like what she said next -- with her plan of how to get in to the school, Isaac couldn't help the small frown that touched his features. A girl, nothing more. Felicia wanted to entrust the help of a child for them to get in to the school...

"You'd be involving children in our work..." Isaac replied softly, his eye fixated on the woman before him, eyes on hers. "If she gets caught... you know that we couldn't rely on a child like this... Not to mention... You just said yourself, 'Licia, she's psychotic. We couldn't possibly..." But, Isaac was struggling with what he was trying to say. The idea of getting someone on the inside was too much of a pull, but his cautious side had reared it's head after the recent failings of the adults around him.

If you couldn't trust adults to complete the work, how could you trust an unqualified child in helping them?

OOC: Sorry this is short, Isaac is being difficult.

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