Hey! It's a one-shot! It's short, it's slash (although barely so) and there's some cussing. That's about it. I don't know what's going on in this fic anymore than you do. It just sort of came to me. As for the title, don't ask me. It's a sound effect on a techno-mixing program I have.
Ron swung down from the narrow, rusting pipe, landing quietly on the balls of his feet. He ran a hand through his dirty red hair as he strode forward through the concrete tunnels. Foul-smelling water ran in a thin stream across his feet but he ignored it. Similarly, he ignored the piles of plastic scraps and metal girders shoved along the walls of the sewers that were his home.
None of that was important right now; all that mattered was finding out what the hell was going on. As far as he knew the resistance movement was safe here- they'd hardly moved in, after all. And there hadn't been any whispers of anything happening lately at all. Whatever this was, it was unexpected, and it sure had the kids excited.
By all rights Ron was no more than a kid himself. He was fifteen or seventeen (he didn't really know) but he'd grown up quickly. Everyone had- even the toddlers knew how to defend themselves.
He rounded a last curve, stepping into the dingy yellow light. "What's going on?" he asked, moving to confer with the few actual adults that were still alive. He stopped, blinking uncertainly. "You have got to be shitting me."
"No shit, sir," his younger sister Gin answered pertly, pushing herself away from the wall. "Well, none that weren't in here first, anyway." She kicked a small body lying at her feet. "Patrols just brought him in. He'll be waking soon."
"Who brought him in?" Moody stepped forward, scratching at his grizzled beard. "This smell like a trick to you?"
"Naw," Moody replied, shaking his scarred head. "They don't need hoaxes- they're powerful enough to just blow us up outright. Although," he admitted, fixing Ron with his one good eye, "I don't know what it is."
Ron crouched down, brushing the long black hair out of the boy's eyes. "He don't look like much of a killer when he's sleeping." Emerald eyes flew open at the same time muscular arms hauled him forwards.
"Let go, Ebony!" Gin screamed, leaping forward.
'Who the hell are you people?" Ebony demanded, tightening his arm around Ron's throat.
Gin paused, unsure of how to continue. Ron made a strangling noise in his throat, nodding as best as he could. Ebony's arms tightened against his throat and Ron struggled weakly, scuffing his boots against the ground.
Gin's eyebrows lowered at her brother's plight. "We're the resistance, you bastard," she spat, fists clenched tightly at her sides.
Ebony looked around for the first time, allowing his grip to relax. Ron took a deep breath, oxygen filling his starved lungs freely. He kicked backwards, contacting with hard flesh. Ebony recoiled, flinging Ron away from him as his back hit the concrete wall.
"Not much of a rebellion," Ebony commented, regaining his footing and stretching. "There's only three of you lot who can grow beards, and you haven't got so much as a weapon among you."
Moody growled, limping forward. "Where we supposed to get 'em, eh? Waltz into Diagon Alley and order a dozen wands?"
Ebony leaned over, running his left hand along his thigh until it rested on his knee. "Why not?"
Ron, leaning against Gin, barked out a short laugh. "Have you ever been there? We'd be absolutely slaughtered!"
Ebony pursed his lips, shaking his head. "No, never been. What's it like?"
"You've never been to Diagon Alley?" Gin asked skeptically. "You're You-Know-Who's second hand and you've never been to damn Diagon Alley."
Ebony shook his head again. "Voldemort doesn't let me out much. Says he doesn't want to lose me."
"Bloody Merlin," Ron breathed. "So he… uh… doesn't know that you're here?" Ebony shook his head. Ron looked at him incredulously for a moment before motioning to his companions. They withdrew slightly, speaking in low voices.
"I don't like this," Ron announced, keeping a wary eye on Ebony, who was leaning against the wall and brushing dirt of his tight black leather pants.
"But Ron, he's so innocent! Just look at him; he hardly knows anything- You-Know-Who seems to have kept him away from everything." Gin smiled at Ebony, who winked back and began combing through his hair with his fingers.
"You're forgetting who this is, lass," Moody growled, stamping his good foot against the ground. "He's killed more of us than we can count- you saw for yourself how dangerous he is when he grabbed Ron."
Gin scowled darkly, tossing her red hair over her shoulder indignantly. "I don't think he actually know what he's done. With Ron he was just reacting, and before I think he was just doing whatever he was told to."
"He's a killer!"
"I know that! But even so, he can help us. You know he has to know about the Death Eaters. I figure we can use him, right?"
"It's too dangerous, Gin," Ron told her, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "We can't risk it."
"We're dying Ron!" Gin cried, slumping her shoulders and allowing a few crystalline tears to fall from her dirty cheeks. "We don't have anything left to turn to and nowhere left to go. We're a bunch of kids fighting for a past we don't even remember!"
"Little bitch makes sense," a new voice observed, interrupting. Ten Death Eaters blocked the tunnel, smirks on their cruelly twisted faces.
Ron immediately sprinted forward, fists stretched out and ready to fight. With a cool chuckle, the nearest Death Eater stopped him in mid-air with a casual flick of his wand.
The rest of the Death Eaters quickly surrounded the others, conjuring up manacles and chaining them together. Ebony slid down along the wall, hugging his knees to his chest. The Death Eaters just grinned and lifted him up, chaining him along with the others.
The prisoners huddled at the rear of a grand hall, watching the Death Eaters assemble with wide, scared eyes. No one spoke; there was nothing left to say. The rebellion was dead- no one had escaped.
Voldemort strode slowly towards the prisoners. Most had never seen him before and were surprised at his appearance. He was a handsome man, with black hair shot through with gray and burning crimson eyes.
"Come here, Ebony," he commanded sharply after studying the rebels for a few tense moments.
Ebony stood slowly, scuffing his feet along as he moved towards Voldemort. He looked down at the polished marble floor like a small child ready to receive his punishment.
"I should punish you for running away, Ebony."
"I just wanted to see what they were like," Ebony explained in a small, childish voice. "I never actually talked to them; I wanted to see what they were like."
"Look at me, Ebony." Voldemort lifted his chin up with long gentle fingers. "I should punish you for running away to those uncouth heathens. However, they have caused me a lot of trouble over the years, and you have delivered them to me. I think that your punishment will be lightened somewhat."
Voldemort brushed away Ebony's long hair and kissed his forehead gently. He pulled Ebony closer to him, turning him around to face the prisoners.
Ron gasped, jaw clenching at the sight before him. "You're Harry Potter! Don't deny it! I can see that bloody scar on your forehead!"
Ebony drew closer to Voldemort, hiding his forehead against the man's chest.
"Now you've upset him," Voldemort chided Ron, rubbing at Ebony's back soothingly. "He doesn't like to be reminded of his despicable parents."
"Harry, listen to me!" Ron shouted, heedless of Voldemort's narrowed eyes, "you can end all of this now! You're the only one that can kill him!"
"But you won't, will you Ebony?" Voldemort purred. Ebony shook his head, muffled sobs shaking his shoulders. "Because you, Ebony, belong to me."