The death eaters stopped in their tracks a few feet from Graves and Gwen. They weren't prepared for an emissary, if that's what this was. None of them spoke; the tension was so exquisitely delicious. Gwen hadn't felt this tense in ages; she'd almost forgotten the rush of it.
Wands were out. She had hers pointed at the largest figure, assuming it was the leader as it stood in the very center of the circle. There were thirteen in all, a fitting number Gwen thought. She had never held with the superstition that thirteen was a bad luck number. As a matter of fact, she frequently bet on it in the dream world and often won.
Suddenly the biggest death eater cleared his throat. "This doesn't concern you children." He (as the voice was decidedly male) said almost mocking.
"Perhaps you're mistaken." Gwen began. "This is an alumni of Hogwarts and I am currently training to become a teacher here. I hardly believe we'd really count for children anymore." She thought she heard a slight chuckle from under a mask, but it quickly turned into a cough.
"If you do not get out of our way there will be hell to pay." The big one continued.
"Maybe for you." Gwen said.
Graves was nearly choking at her nerve. He had never seen her so confident of anything.
Without wasting anymore time the largest one pointed his wand at Graves and uttered a curse Gwen had never heard before. "Carcer Tristitia."
Graves fell into a heap at her feet. She kneeled down to him, wrapping him in her arms. The death eaters, feeling that they had distracted her sufficiently with Graves moved past her to the castle. She stared into his eyes as he struggled to get the words out.
"I came back for you." He said as his body fell limp.
"I know you did." She whispered. The pain in her chest was spreading outward further and further until she was almost numb with grief. He made one last effort to squeeze her hand.
"You have always been my best friend. I love..." He said hazily and faded into oblivion.
She closed her eyes; she couldn't see anymore. She wouldn't let herself. She held his body tight to her chest, anger spreading out in every direction from her heart. It was spilling from her eyes in mad tears; it was leaking from her mouth in a wailing cry that shook the very earth they stood on.
She laid her friend to rest gently on the ground and rose up to her full height. While she was still very small she was fierce and terrible looking. Her hair was streaming out all about her and chin was held high. She began speaking low and hoarse, building in intensity with each word. She didn't understand the words, but she knew their purpose.
She was speaking the ancient fey tongue that the Stag King had taught her while she remained in his care. They were coming out of her very soul, bypassing her brain all together. The death eaters turned, fear in their eyes now. They couldn't move any closer to the castle nor any further from the terrifying sight Gwen had become.
They had heard of old fey magic, but they had never seen it in practice. Gwen's eyes were on fire, a flame had leapt to life in the core of her being and it would be a long time before she could get it under control again. She pointed at each and every one of the death eaters around her and before any of them knew what was happening they were writhing on the ground in agony.
She would not kill them. No, she would never kill them. That was for the dementors of Azkaban. But she would remind them momentarily of the pain they had caused her and the pain they had caused Harry and Graves. She would remind them of they way her father died, and the way her mother died.
She would break their evil will and send their dried up souls to waste away in Azkaban.