Disclaimer- This does not belong to me. (Because obviously you all thought it did)

This was it. This was what everything had really boiled down to. Now all that was left was this. Pain, darkness, and cold. Such an icy cold that nothing could penetrate it, or at least that was what she hoped. A voice called into the dark, letting her know that her protection wasn't working. The darkness had not consumed her senses yet.

"Where is he? Where is the Dark Lord?" A woman's voice, mirth playing across it like music. How could she get such pleasure in the pain she was causing?

"We don't know. And if we knew we wouldn't tell you," she heard a male voice spit, filled with rage and contempt.

Frank, my Frank, you're being so brave. I love you.

"Very well," Another male voice said, contempt equally audible in his voice, "If you choose not to tell us then we shall have to take it from your dear wife. I'm sure she is quite sick of the Cruciatus curse by now. Crucio, Stupefy" He was so nonchalant, so carefree. She knew who it was, by his voice alone, Rodolphus Lestrange, "Crouch, how about you show us what you're made of?"

Crouch? Did he mean Barty Crouch? The Head of the DMLE? Her boss? He couldn't be a death eater. It was impossible. She opened her eyes, she wanted to see, to know. Her instincts as an Auror still holding her, she needed to be able to identify her torturers to the DMLE if she got out of this alive, it was a very definite if.

She saw him, hazily at first, blonde and young, so young. He wasn't the toughened war veteran that she knew so well but her boss's son. His son, barely of age, had become a death-eater. She almost pitied him, pitied them both, until…

"Crucio," Pain wreathed her body, inescapable, like knives slicing through every inch of her skin. She couldn't see, couldn't breathe, could hardly think. Nothing could penetrate her mind save the indescribable pain flowing through her veins.

Killing me, please, let it be killing me, let me die, escape this.

And then the pain was gone, almost as soon as it had come. She opened her eyes again, dizzily, unfocused, but even so she saw the tears running down the Crouch boys cheeks, his wand on the floor, dropped. She was struck by a stab of pity for him. He was only a boy, a mere child, unaware of what he'd got himself into until it was too late to back out. She saw Rodolphus push him aside, promising to deal with him later before his cold voice cut through her again.

"Well, it seems like we won't get the information as easily as we had hoped. Never mind, I'm sure that my dear wife will enjoy the challenge." She saw Bellatrix come forward, a smile on her lips, wand in hand. How she hated the woman. Her eyes looked past Bellatrix, not letting the other woman have the satisfaction of eye contact, to Rodolphus, his silent brother Rabastan, and the Crouch boy, sobbing openly on the floor, collapsed against the sofa that she had been sitting on earlier that very day, telling Augusta all about Neville's recent exploits.

Neville. How could I have forgotten about Neville. I hope he's safe where we hid him, but of course he is. There were only four of them and they've been too busy with us to look for him. Good. Let's keep them busy until the DMLE get here. It's only a matter of time. We have to, for Neville's sake.

Alice Longbottom swallowed carefully and opened her mouth, trying to get her lips to form words. She tasted blood and realized she must have bitten her tongue while blinded by pain. She spat onto the floor and returned her eyes to Bellatrix's. There was nothing there, no pity, no remorse, nothing.

"Why Bellatrix?" She rasped, afraid at how weak her voice sounded, "Why risk yourself for a master who is dead? Why not do as all the others are doing and plead the imperius curse?"

"It is not your place to question me, impertinent scum," Bellatrix snarled, "I could never plead anything other than my everlasting fealty to the dark lord, I, the most loyal, the most faithful of all his servants, pretend to be under the imperius curse? Do not make me laugh."

And she laughed, a raucous, scratching laugh with no real mirth in it. Then her gaze returned to Alice's and she saw. She saw why the other woman was here, why she was torturing her, why she was so desperate for information. There were dark red circles around her eyes that couldn't be mistaken, in any light. Maybe it was because she was an Auror, maybe it was because she was a woman, maybe it was because she'd seen that look too many times before but it was Alice Longbottom that saw the cause of the insanity in Bellatrix Lestrange. Before Azkaban, before everything, Alice knew her enemies secret.

"You…you loved him. Voldemort, you loved him didn't you?" She rasped, shocked by sure in her assertion. Bellatrix's eyes widened at this question. Her face transformed into a snarl as she walked towards Alice and grabbed her by the hair, wrenching her head upwards. Alice didn't feel it, she was numb, she knew that she was close to the brink, close to toppling away from coherent thought, maybe even life. And then she heard the other woman's voice, soft in her ear.

"Yes, yes I did. And now I have to make sure you take that knowledge to your grave."

It didn't matter. Alice could already hear the DMLE outside. The death-eaters were all too intent on trying to hear what Bellatrix was saying to her to have noticed. Neville was safe. That was all that mattered. Alice smiled.

"Do your worst, Lady Bellatrix. I could expect no less for the one you love," Alice said.

"Very well," Bellatrix hissed back, "It's a pity, you really are quite perceptive," And she took a step back and aimed her wand.

"Crucio"

Alice felt the pain come, one last time before everything went black. Neville was safe, there was no need for her to resist anymore. She slipped into the comfortable back abyss of her mind where the pain could not enter and stayed there.

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A/N- Reviews are appreciated but not demanded. Thankyou for reading.