The Confession

Light was burning through my eyelids, like pokers heated on a flame. My back ached from sitting so long in the rickety, wooden chair. I could feel splinters creeping through my robes and digging into the soft flesh underneath. I didn't cry. The light was swinging slightly, making my head throb in time with the repetitive pendulum motion. How long would this last? I sat on my hands, trying to relieve some of the pressure from the hard wood.

Footsteps. He was back.

The light focused directly on my face and I strained to avoid its glare.

"Are you ready to tell the truth?" The man's voice was weary and resigned, as though he knew I would continue to defy him.

"I am telling the truth." I lied.

"I know you're lying. I can always tell."

"No you can't, because I really don't know anything about it!" I implored him, my voice rising in my desperation.

"Do not raise your voice to me again." His voice rang like cold steel, sending a shudder down my spine. I said nothing, just stared at him defiantly.

"Do you understand?"

I crumbled under his harsh glare.

"Yes, sir," The words were bitter in my mouth.

He turned to face the mirror, which I knew from previous visits to be concealing another room.

"She's not going to talk to me. Bring him in."

My heart fluttered frantically in my breast, rattling against my ribs like a caged bird. Do not show weakness, I told myself, it's what he wants. With a monumental effort, I prevented my lip from trembling. They would not break me.

Clunk. Clunk. Clunk.

The thudding of Mad Eye Moody's wooden leg reverberated around my skull like a ricocheting bullet; his footsteps were laced with malice. I knew what this man was capable of, but I would not break.

I looked straight ahead as he scraped and banged into the room. Show no fear. I caught a glimpse of grizzled mane and whirling blue before the reek of stale whisky reached my nose; disgusting man. Gnarled fingers wrapped around the table, gripping so hard that the scars stretched grotesquely. My eyes were trained upon the reflective glass, boring a hole through it into the first auror's skull.

Moody's face was inches from my own, now. I could feel that hideous eye penetrating me, trying to see the answers I was hiding. A deep growl emanated from his throat, beastly and raw.

"You can't stay quiet forever, girl."

That's what you think.

"We know you have information, and we will get it from you one way or another."

Over my dead body, you will.

"We know you were there that night."

No you don't, you arrogant prick.

"You made a rookie mistake, lassie."

I never make mistakes.

"We retrieved saliva from a half eaten cupcake at the scene, and I'd bet my good leg it belongs to you."

Prove it.

"All we need is a little sample, and you're ours."

So I gave it to him, right in his disgusting, churning eye. I suppose that was when the interrogation took a downward turn.

Mad Eye moved quickly, despite his deformities. Within seconds his large, calloused hand was tangled in my hair, and he had slammed my face into the wooden, splintered desk. The scent of rotting wood, dust and sweat forced itself into my senses, I only just managed not to baulk. The steel taste of blood crept onto my tongue; my lip had split with the impact. If I could have spat in his other eye, I would have.

"Why were you at Malfoy manor three nights ago?"

His voice was not raised, but there was a serpentine venom coating his words. I wondered how long I could keep up the charade. He knew. He knew I was there.

"I wasn't."

"You're lying, girl. Why were you at the manor?"

"You have no proof." I threw the words from my mouth as defiantly as I could manage.

"I have a rather delicious looking cupcake in the evidence room, remember? It is being tested right now."

Shit. Why had I eaten the stupid cake? How could I have been so careless?

"The game is up, girly. Don't make me force the truth out of you. You murdered Narcissa. Why?"

He was full of gloating condescension, so sure he knew all of the answers. He probably did, but I wouldn't make it easy for him. The timber scraped my cheek as I twisted towards him,

"Fuck you."

A deep growl echoed around the room. With a flash of his wand, Moody had conjured chains to wrap around my body, they constricted slowly like an enormous snake, pressing the air from my lungs. Light popped in front of my eyes as the shackles tightened. I gaped like a fish, fighting for air.

"Relashio"

The metal shot backwards and I slumped against the table, coughing and choking in oxygen. Do not break.

"Why did you kill Narcissa? We know it was you, we know how you did it, we just don't know why. Tell me."

The command was spoken with such menacing authority that I nearly gave in. He saw the weakness in my eyes and pounced like a lion on its prey.

"Why would you want her dead? What could she possibly have been standing in the way of?"

There was a glint in his eyes that told me he already knew. He had guessed. I summoned the little energy I had left, just enough to raise my hand in a two fingered salute.

He roared his anger and impatience, grabbing at fistfuls of my hair he forced my face upwards and stuck his grotesque fingers into my mouth, parting my vice-like lips. It was over. As the first drop of veritaserum hit my tongue, I slipped into a state of powerlessness. I looked on distantly as Auror Potter strode back into the room, quill in hand, and ready to take full note of my confession. Bastards.

Moody began the questioning, as my heart ceased its caged rattling and settled in the pit of my stomach.

"What is your name?"

"Pansy Parkinson," I heard myself answer.

"Where were you three nights ago?"

"I visited Malfoy manor." Stop, stop, traitorous mouth!

"What happened during your visit?"

"I took tea with Lady Malfoy. She used the finest china, as we were such good friends. She had the house elves bring cakes." My body was trembling with fear. I could not hide any longer.

"When did you kill Narcissa Malfoy?"

I tried to hold it back, I tried not to answer. But it was such agony! The confession was ripped from me like a plaster from a wound.

"I slipped poison in her tea while she was taking a call on the floo."

There was no going back now. Why had I not been more careful? Stupid, careless bitch! Moody's eyes were gleaming in triumph.

"Why, Miss Parkinson, did you murder Narcissa Malfoy?"

My eyes darted around the room, looking for some way to evade the question. It was not possible. Before my eyes had even finished their frantic search, my mouth was answering.

"Lucius," I whispered, "I love Lucius. He loves me. We've been together behind Cissy's back for years. He would not leave her."

There was surprise in his eyes now. Perhaps he had thought me in love with Draco, but he was never man enough for my tastes. He did not crave power, not like my Lucius.

"It started while I was at Hogwarts, when I used to visit Draco during the holidays. I would sneak into Lucius' study. I had always admired him, and as soon as I was old enough I was determined to seduce him. It didn't take much effort; he was fucking me within ten minutes of me walking into the room. Who would have guessed that Narcissa was so frigid?"

I let out a bitter laugh.

"We would both have been better off without her. So we plotted to kill her. Nobody was supposed to guess it was murder… We would have been so happy."

Potter was packing his notes away now; they had all they needed from me. Moody gave me one last revolted look as he summoned handcuffs around my wrists.

"I think, Miss Parkinson," he said gruffly, "that Narcissa would have been rather better off without the two of you."

A/N: This story was written for John (Rigonoko). He requested a fic that involved Moody torturing somebody about cupcakes. Hope you enjoyed it, John! It was a bugger to write!