He was watching me. I knew he was. For two years, I had gone unnoticed, had worked my way to the top ranks of the Death Eaters without suspicion, but now he was watching me. I pretended to go about my work, tried to ignore those eyes. I lost in the end. Those eyes had a way of drawing your gaze to them. My mahogany orbs met his crimson ones.
It was then that I knew I was lost. He knew. He knew who was, and why I was here. How, I don't know. But he knew. A chill ran down my spine. There was no pretending any more. I dropped the papers I had been working on, my long legs dashed to the exit. You couldn't Apparate, not in Death Eater headquarters. A precaution he had added after Snape had initially escaped. But Snape had died in the end.
I sprinted for a nearby door, but already he had called out, commanded his minions to stop me. Stop me, but not kill me. He knew everything about me, my name, my friends, my true motives. He knew I had a Secret. He knew what the Secret held. He didn't know what the Secret was.
I desperately strove for the door. My last hope for salvation. My hand touched the knob. It was then that a Muggle method succeeded where magic had not. My senses blackened as the slab of wood connected with my head. I fell, fighting to the last, as the Death Eaters swarmed over me.
* * *
When I woke, I was in the dungeon. There was no escape. I was as good as dead. I was tied to a chair, my robes and shirt gone, my bare chest pale in the darkness. I wondered why they'd bothered removing pieces of clothing. I soon found out.
He entered, a sinister sneer pasted on his unhuman features. I formed my face into a blank slate, revealing nothing.
"Where is Harry Potter?"
Silence.
"Crucio."
Screams. They were mine I'm sure, but I have no idea how long they lasted. All I knew was pain.
The pain stopped.
"Where is Harry Potter?"
Silence.
This time I met Bertha, the guard's heavy iron bar. The guard himself was a bit insane, but one needed to be, to enjoy inflicting pain.
Bertha connected with the side of my chest, over and over. Several cracks were heard before the pummeling stopped, and then I found it hard to breathe.
"Where is Harry Potter?"
Silence.
And so the torture continued, lasting three days, and three nights. They had practice, I'm certain. He seemed to know when I was on the verge of passing into blessed oblivion, and would bring a halt to the pain, just long enough for me to recover. Then it would start again.
Three days, three nights. It was only then that they stopped. Aurors were attacking the headquarters. Why? Because of me. I had missed my rendevous with Harry the day before. When I hadn't shown up, he'd known.
When the Aurors finally managed to get into building, it was deserted. There was only one person there. Me.
Harry was the one to find me. How he knew it was me, I couldn't tell. I was entirely covered in my own blood, slumping, still tied, in the chair. My ribs were all cracked, the main bones in my arms and legs were all broken. Hands and feet horribly mutilated, the bones in them crushed to powder. Chunks of skin on my chest were gone all together, revealing muscle and sinew.
He took my tortured form in his arms, releasing me from my bonds, heedless of the gore. My eyes saw him dimly through the still crimson liquid. I cracked a horrible smile. Most of my teeth were gone. My voice, quiet and broken, hoarse with hours of screaming, was heard for the last time.
"I didn't tell."
It was only then that I died, only then that I left that horrible hulk. Only when he knew I hadn't betrayed him.
My name was Ronald Weasley. I was a spy.