|Myron Wagtail (myronwagtail_) wrote,|
@ 2020-03-01 08:54:00
|Entry tags:||posts: drabbles|
Already, Florean Fortescue had been murdered that last year, and Garrick Ollivander had been abducted from his shop in Diagon Alley. Myron knew Donaghan was a lot more scared than he wanted to let on, but he'd insisted on laying low for now.
The words "Muggleborn Registry" caught his eye on the first page and he frowned. As Myron opened the paper, his eyes scanned over the words, and he could feel his heart dropping lower with every word. He almost felt physically ill but swallowed back his discomfort.
"Fuckin' Christ..." he muttered under his breath. Tearing the article out, he crumpled the rest of the paper up and tossed it into his fireplace to burn. His tea was forgotten, left to sit on his desk while he sought out Donaghan and Siobán.
"Don. Sib. Meeting, now," he said as he spotted them, dropping the torn paper on the table before them.
"What's going on, Myron?" Donaghan asked, crossing his arms.
"I know you wanted to lay low, Donaghan... But shit is gettin' worse, out there. Look at this," he said, pushing the paper forward. He used the tip of his wand, as if the paper would burn him if he touched it, again.
Donaghan took a moment to skim over the article. It only took "Muggleborn Registry" to clue him in on what was happening and he scoffed. "Feckin' hell... Are they really? They don't actually believe this rubbish, do they?"
"The Ministry's gone straight to hell since You-Know-Who came back, Don," Myron said. "Nobody believed Harry when he said You-Know-Who was actually back until last year, and then Fudge resigned. Ever since then, it's been a clusterfuck of all this blood supremacy bullshite."
"So this is it, then? What are we going to do, Myron?" Don asked. Siobhán's hand rested on his shoulder, giving him a little squeeze.
"I've got a plan, Don. I was talking to Bill and my dad... I was thinking we could put you and Siobhán in a safehouse," he explained. "My dad and I can work as your Secret-Keepers. We can put a Fidelius Charm on the safehouse, and then nobody but us would be able to find you. You'd be safe."
"Myron... I don't want to go into hiding, you know that," Don replied.
"Well, I'm sorry Don, but right now we don't have much of a bloody choice,' Myron sighed. "If the Ministry, the way it is, gets a hold of you... I can't bear to think of what might happen. Bad as it is, the best-case scenario is that they send you to Azkaban for "stealing magic" and that prospect alone is already grim. Worst-case scenario, they just kill you and that's the end of that. Both options are out of the fuckin' question. You and Siobhán are going into hiding and waiting this out, and I'm going to come with you."
"Where are we going to go?" asked Siobhán next. "I don't reckon London is safe, with everything going on."
"My grandparents have an old cabin," Myron assured them. "Nobody but our family knows where it even is, but there's room for us all. Kieran is better at these kinds of charms than I am, so he agreed to do the legwork and be our Secret-Keeper, alongside myself."
"What about the others, Myron? What are the other Sisters and their families going to do?" Don asked.
"Catriona is taking Kirley and Meaghan with the rest of her team into hiding, where necessary. I advised Heath and Herman to shack up somewhere. Orsino, Merton, and Gideon are going to team up with their families. I don't like the idea of us all being spread out, but we have to do what we can to come out of this alive."
"I suppose we'd better get packing, then..." Donaghan said, leaning back in his seat. A long sigh escaped before the bassist stood, then they all left the room to go pack up their clothes and other necessities before leaving.