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cursed-ice-spirits · 4 years

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You ever wonder how Duncan Ashe died? And what happened that night? You’re about to find out. Special thanks to @angrynar for teaming up with me for the @hphmbang2020! Hope you guys enjoy <3

Late. It was very late. It had been hours since he last rested and he wasn’t even remotely done. Duncan Ashe groaned and peeled his face off his book, feeling a sharp crack as he etched his head to the left. Rubbing at the dull ache that shot from his neck to his shoulder and fingertips, Duncan squinted at the spinning words in his notes, trying to force himself to stay awake. His head seemed to pound.

There was no time to rest.

He needed this done, and an Erumpent potion required all his attention.

The door suddenly opened with a loud creak, sending light into the room. Duncan lunged for his wand, grasping it around the handle and whirling around to face the intruder, but relaxed when he saw who was standing in the doorway.

“Jacob,” he said, breathing a breath of relief, lowering his wand. “Did someone follow you?”

The other boy shook his head, pursing his lips as he pushed into the room. “Snape almost did,” he admitted, looking just as exhausted as he felt. “Managed to get him off my tail, though.” Jacob shrugged off his bag and tossed it aside, ignoring his friend’s half hearted glare when it was thrown haphazardly against the table. Gripping the back of the chair, he leaned over Duncan’s shoulder, squinting at his notes. “Your handwriting is shit,” he muttered. “How’s the potion going along?”

“Not as bad as yours.” Duncan eyed the cauldron sitting against the wall. “It’s doing fine, at least I hope it is. It has to settle for…” he glanced over his notes. “Twenty more minutes. Then I’ll have to…” He trailed off when he saw the way Jacob’s face flickered with guilt. “Jacob, what’s going on?”

Jacob rubbed the back of his neck, staring at the wall for a moment, then heaved out a sigh and reached into his robes, withdrawing a note. “I’ve gotten word from R,” he said tiredly, sliding it over. “They, well, it’ll be better if you read this yourself.”

Narrowing his eyes, Duncan slowly took hold of the note and drew it closer to him. As he continued to read the note, a deep anger started curling inside his gut, rolling down his throat like red hot lava, until he was throwing the note aside and pushing himself out of his seat. He turned slightly to search through his bag. “Tell them fuck no.”

“Duncan—”

“Don’t ‘Duncan’ me!” He snapped, turning sharply. “Do they not understand an Erumpent potion? A potion containing the parts of an Erumpent requires you to be delicate and patient, and rushing it will cause it to backfire and then we’ll have to start all over again! Tell them no!”

“I already told you several times before,” Jacob said, heaving out a heavy sigh. He pushed his hair out of his face, looking exhausted. “I can’t.”

This again…. he wanted to shake him. Why can’t he give clear answers for once?

“Why not?”

“You know why!” Jacob tugged at his hair and turned away, starting to pace. “They have resources. If we pull out now, we’ll trip over ourselves and we’ll never get what we need!”

Duncan stared at him for a moment, clenching his jaw. “Do we really need the treasure from the Cursed Vaults?”

“What kind of question is that?” Jacob stopped pacing and whirled around, staring straight at him, disbelief clear in his eyes. “They want it! We want it! Of course we do! Isn’t that what we agreed on when we started this?”

“Yes, but I can’t continue! We’re risking our lives for R!” Duncan snapped. “They’re asking for the impossible! I can’t brew this potion by tonight! I know we agreed to search the Vaults together but… come on, this is too far. I can’t do this anymore — even I know when to back away.”

Something unreadable flickered in his eyes. Jacob’s gaze wavered. “So you’re just gonna leave me alone in this?”

Duncan’s throat closed up. “N-No that’s not what I’m saying at all. Don’t twist my words and stop manipulating me — I’m saying this is too much—“

“I’m not!” Jacob roared, slamming his fist on the table. “I thought we agreed we were in this together! I thought we agreed to find whatever’s in the Vaults together! We can’t just… stop. Not now…”

“Yes we can! And I’m saying we’re gonna end this together!” Duncan stepped forward, gripping Jacob’s shoulders, desperation at his throat. “Come on, Jacob, once they have no use for us, they’ll throw us away and leave us to rot. They don’t care about us. We’re nothing but tools. We’ll die if we continue. Are you willing to risk that?”

Jacob worked his jaw furiously and glanced away, something dark and cold coming over his face, something that sent shivers down his spine. Duncan’s throat dropped to his stomach. He can’t possibly…

“Come on, Jacob… say no. Come on, you can’t seriously be willing to risk that for the Vaults, come on…”

Jacob placed his hands on Duncan’s own…. and pulled them away. “I’m sorry, Duncan, but I have to do this, regardless if you’re in or not.”

Duncan gritted his teeth, tears of frustration forming in his eyes. No matter what he says or does to convince him to back out, he can never get to him. Every word he throws at his face is being hit against a brick wall.

He can’t get to him.

He opened his mouth. He could say no. He could tell him he wants no part of this anymore. He could tell him he’s out. He could leave and he could stay out of this damn mess, because there was no way he was going to convince Jacob not to go after the Vaults. He knows who’s possible to be saved out of a situation and who’s completely hopeless.

Jacob’s hopeless, and there’s nothing he can do about it.

But looking at him now…. Duncan faltered. No. No, he can’t say no. He can’t leave Jacob alone in this. He can’t let R do whatever they want with him now that he’s gone and out of the way.

He can’t. He cares about him way too much to leave him alone with R. If he leaves now… if he leaves him around… he’ll do something stupid, something that he can’t wiggle out of.

He can’t let that happen, no matter how stupid Jacob is. He can’t lose Jacob like they lost Olivia.

Duncan rubbed his thumb against the corner of his eyes and turned away. “You’re impossible. Fine, I’ll brew the dumb potion.”

Jacob blinked, the coldness disappearing. He looked dumbfounded. He didn’t blame him. Hope and relief lit up his face, and it hurt. “You… You will?”

Duncan huffed and folded his arms. “I’m not leaving you alone in this, am I? Someone has to make sure you don’t get yourself into trouble.”

Slowly, Jacob’s face split into a grin, before he threw his arms over him. “I knew you’d come to your senses! I’ll go prepare for tonight. I’ll come back in a couple of hours, alright? Remember to have this finished tonight. See you then!”

Duncan squeezed his eyes shut, forcing tears away as he hugged back briefly, before pulling away. “Yeah yeah, Whatever. Just do your thing. I’ll try my best to finish.” He paused for a moment, before insisting, “I promise.”

“See you in a few hours.”

Arms pulled away from his shoulders. Jacob lifted his bag from the table and headed off. As footsteps slowly walked out of the room, Duncan shook his head and sank into his seat, staring at his notes in despair.

There will always be something he’ll always do for him no matter what, huh? Gritting his teeth, Duncan dashed his hand across his eyes and made for the cauldron, slipping on his dragonhide gloves again.

The time was up anyway. He’ll have to finish this. Maybe it’s impossible to finish this potion by tonight, but if he pulls every trick he knows about potions...

He’ll finish it. Somehow. But he will.

He promised after all.

Hours pass by. A thick haze clouded his mind as his hands moved automatically. Adding ingredients, chopping them up, crushing them, measuring out the proper measurements, turning up the heat and waiting.

He lost how much time passed by.

Add 5 slices of an erumpent tail. Stir until it's dissolved. Wait. Etc…

Grind the horn into fine powder. Crush it with the knife. It’ll be easier. Measure it. Add it into the potion. Stir. Let it boil for maybe 30 minutes. Etc…

It goes on and on. Duncan’s eyes were starting to sting, and sweat drenched his brow as he turned up the heat just a little bit more, using far too many shortcuts to save time in order for it to be finished by tonight. Is it dangerous? Yes. Is it risky? Yes. But it needed to be done by the time they got to the Vault.

Duncan pushed his hair out of his face and wiped sweat off his forehead, taking a moment to himself to just breathe, rubbing aching and trembling fingers. He’s just so tired. Tired from so many sleepless nights, tired from being worked to the bone, but he promised. Swore to Jacob’s face he promised to finish the potion by tonight, and he always stuck by promises, no matter what, or how crazy it is.

Onto the last step. Duncan levitated a small vial full of yellow liquid out of his pack. It looked small, harmless, but it was the fluid that allowed an Erumpent horn to explode. One wrong move and it’s over.

Taking a deep breath, he shakingly let it out as he carefully opened the vial.

The last step: Add 10 drops of Exploding Fluid. Measure 5mg. There should be a black ring of smoke hovering over the cauldron for each drop. The liquid should bubble. This is because of the explosive fluid mixing with the potion. Wait until the smoke clears to add the next drop. Boil at 82 degrees for an hour. The potion should turn yellow.

This is… the most critical step. Exploding Fluid is something to be handled carefully. No shortcuts.

Holding a hand to the vial, Duncan carefully tipped the vial over, and watched the first drop roll out of the vial and down into the unfinished potion.

As it dropped into the potion, a ring of black smoke rose, circling over the cauldron. The liquid itself was starting to bubble, not gently, but not too violently for it to be worrisome. Duncan swallowed and set the vial down.

Now to wait.

Slowly and before his eyes, the black smoke started to disperse and rose to the ceiling, particles slowly disappearing into the air. Duncan leaned over, gripping his wrist with his other hand to add the next drop, and leaned back as the black smoke started to form again. Rinse and repeat. His hand was starting to shake and ache from working for so long. But he was so close to finishing… he can’t stop now… he promised...

It was at the fifth drop that things… went wrong. He didn’t know what went wrong. Maybe he made a mistake or two earlier and it just acted now. Maybe he wasn’t careful enough. But it did.

And it went so horribly wrong.

As Duncan added the fifth drop, the mixture suddenly turned black and fizzled violently, the liquid sloshing inside the cauldron and expanding. Pausing, he carefully set the vial down and leaned away, watching the mixture warily. By the time he realized what was happening, he only had a few seconds to dive for the table before the cauldron exploded into a literal ball of fire.

The blast exploded through the air, followed by flames, sending him crashing hard against the wall. Heat seared through his clothes as flames licked at his heels, rubble crumbling from the walls, large chunks spilling out as the flames quickly started spreading. Duncan’s gasps of pain became swallowed by smoke, ash, and soot, even as he shoved his hand to his mouth and coughed harshly, spitting and sputtering.

His ears were ringing. His chest burned with agony. Duncan crawled out from the walls of flames, doubling over in fits of coughs, eyes watering, trying to fix his vision on the door...

He had to get out. Get out…

Jacob.

Shouting wavered slowly through his ears outside. They hurt, but he knew help was out there. Duncan gripped his burning fingers on the ridges of the floor and dragged himself up, wrapping one arm around his burning, burning torso. Too much smoke. Too much pain. It burns. Everything hurts. He can’t breathe. He’s not gonna make it—

He’s not gonna make it.

He’s gonna die. Everything is over. He didn’t even graduate yet. He didn’t even get a chance to spend a normal life with Jacob and having fun without having to worry about stupid Cursed Vaults trying to take over their lives and now Jacob is gonna be all alone with stupid R and stupid Rakepick and stupid Dumbledore—

As he made his way to the door, flames licking at his sides and sending burns that stung as they made contact with the rubble scattered along the floor, he parted chapped lips to call for help, but the resulting noise ended up in coughing fits and wheezing breaths that rocked against his ribcage. He doubled over, curling into a ball, pain wrecking his body.

He’s not gonna make it.

He slumped against the floor, too weak to continue his journey to the door, his vision blurring at the edges. Someone was shouting orders outside. Dumbledore? Snape? He‘ll never know.

Duncan squeezed his eyes shut, smoke filling his lungs, as he took his last breath just as the door banged open hard enough to smash against the door and bounce back, voices shouting.

I’m sorry, Jacob.

“What do you mean something happened with Duncan!?”

Professor McGonagall hesitated. He should have taken that as a bad sign. She never hesitated. “There appears,” she said slowly, “to be… an incident, with Mr Ashe.”

“What kind of incident?” Jacob stressed, fixing the Transfiguration Professor with a look of dismay. “What happened, Professor?”

McGonagall gave him a mournful look. A look that burned into his eyes. “...it’ll be best if you see for yourself,” she said, placing a hand on his shoulder and leading him to the direction of where he last left Duncan.

“I don’t understand… why can’t you explain it now?!”

“His… condition is very delicate. Please understand…”

Her voice turned to white noise. The longer they walked, the more fear started building up in his gut, hands shaking as his fingers dug into his palms, until he finally tore himself from McGonagall’s grip and raced up ahead.

He saw it before it came.

Students surrounded the outside of the room, smoke pooling up into pillars to the ceiling. The teachers were right in the middle, arguing as Snape and Pomfrey disappeared inside the room to search for something. Or… someone.

Realization dawned on him.

No…

He’s not…

It can’t be…

They went too far. He pushed him too far.

Jacob surged forward, tearing across the floor to the crowd.

He should have known, Duncan always keeps his promises no matter what, he should have never took advantage of that and now—

“Out of the way!”

He shoved someone carelessly aside and pushed past the crowd, ignoring the startled yells after him and students trying to stop him. He didn’t care. He needed to get to Duncan.

“DUNCAN!!”

He pushed past the last student and forced his way to the door and… stopped.

An explosion had completely wrecked the room. The door was wide open, revealing the damage done. The cauldron Duncan used for the Erumpent Potion had its top blown clean off, and it laid discarded against the wall, completely destroyed and unusable. The table had been blown into pieces, charred pieces laying about, drenched with water (possibly from Aguamenti), embers flickering weakly in the wreck. Soot covered the walls, and large chunks of rubble were scattered inside and outside the room. Dust filled the air.

He wasn’t focused on any of that.

He was focused on the boy being carried out in the arms of Snape and Pomfrey.

Duncan Ashe laid limp, burnt robes in tatters around him and eyes squeezed shut, an arm wrapped loosely around his torso. Burns littered his body from what Jacob could see, blistering red. Sweat and water drenched his face, smearing the soot over his cheeks and uncovering his skin. Ash and spot drifted through his hair, and his skin was colored a gray pallor.

Jacob surged forward.

“DUNCAN!!”

Hands gripped around his injured friend and pulled him out of the Potions Professor and Matron’s reach. Snape opened his mouth, a look of anger flickering over his face as he looked down at Jacob, before Pomfrey put a hand to his arm with tears in her eyes, shook her head, and led him away.

Where he didn’t know, nor cared.

He was focused on his friend.

Jacob wrapped an arm around his shoulders and dragged him closer, using his other hand to shake him, desperation wrapping its arms around his throat and strangling him.

“Duncan…. Duncan!... Duncan, wake up… wake up please…”

Duncan’s head rolled back and forth, chapped lips gaping slightly. Jacob gritted his teeth, twisting his fist into his burnt robes. His vision started to blur from tears.

“Duncan please! I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I should have listened! Come on, wake up so Pomfrey can heal you up and we can quit together — come on, wake up, this isn’t funny!!”

Still no answer. He reached out a trembling hand and wiped away some of the soot on his face. It smeared his fingers and colored them black. He didn’t care.

“Duncan!!”

No answer. Why wasn’t he answering him?! He pressed his forehead against Duncan’s, tears rolling down his face as he gritted his teeth, a small cry of pain escaping. He couldn’t feel his breath against his face. He wasn’t breathing. He moved to press his head against his chest.

He didn’t have a heartbeat.

He wasn’t waking up.

There was a dull roaring in his ears as he pulled away and looked down at his friend. Duncan laid limp as always, a look of pain etched permanently on his face. Tears rolled down his face. Numbness seemed to take over.

Duncan Ashe is dead.

Duncan, I’m sorry.

He was unaware of the ghost figure that watched as McGonagall gently pulled Jacob away to let Madam Pomfrey treat the young Slytherin, only for her to give a shake of her head seconds later, a shadow of sadness crossing her face, nor did he see the look of anger on the ghost’s face as he put the blame on himself.

The ghost turned away.

Duncan Ashe is dead.

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