Hi there well here's another one-shot, just because I'm obsessed with them! Lol this is about Karkaroff, and you should beware of HBP spoilers (don't say you haven't been warned!)
Of course, none of this is mine. (Or else I would definitely NOT be there).
The traitor betrayed"Mankind must put an end to war or war will put an end to mankind" John F Kennedy
The four men kept advancing on the dirt path, step after step, oblivious to the world outside. Despite the clod rain that drenched their black cloaks and hoods, despite the mud that was sticking to their boots and slowing them down, they went on walking, inexorably, leaving behind them the forests and villages.
They would accomplish their mission, they would carry out their horrible task─ should they lose their lives in the process─ because they had sworn allegiance to the Dark Lord. They were Death Eaters, cold-blooded assassins, inhuman, powerful, and deadly. That afternoon, they would punish the one who had not remained faithful to their cause.
The fire was cracking, warming the inside of his shack, but regardless of the heat it radiated Karkaroff couldn't help from shivering. It had been more than a year now, and there had been times when he had started to believe he might have won in escaping Voldemort─ but he was no fool.
He knew, deep inside, that no one could triumph of the Dark Lord. He would be found, eventually, and then he would have to face Voldemort's wrath, one way or another.
The hours passed slowly as he sat beside the chimney, listening to the rain lashing the windows, his mind lost somewhere far away, staring unseeingly at the flames. When the fire died he got up unhurriedly, grabbed his cloak and walked to the door. He needed to get more wood in the forest before night fell. Of course, he could have conjured as many logs as he wished with a twist of the wrist─ but he lived in constant fear that someone might detect his use of magic; someone who would not come to his shack just to inquire on how he was doing.
Karkaroff froze with his hand on the doorknob when the sound of footsteps reached his ears. Quickly he retreated against the wall opposite the door and made sure he had his wand in his pocket. Now somebody was knocking, and as the seconds went by his heart raced. Nobody knew he was here; nobody knew where he had hidden.
Maybe it was just a Muggle seeking a place to rest a bit during the rainstorm, or someone lost in the forest that would ask for a map of the countryside. Maybe─
After he failed three times in answering the door, there was a detonation and the door was blasted off its hinges. Karkaroff raised his wand, clutching it tightly in his right hand. "Expell─"
"Protego!" the first Death Eater raised his wand almost lazily. He was covered in black from the boots to the hood, with black gloves and a black belt; tall and bulky, he would have towered over any average-sized man. "Come on, Karkaroff, fancy a chat first?"
With a jolt, Karkaroff recognised the voice.
"How long has it been?" the man said almost conversional tone, walking in and soaking the floor with mud. He took a glance around the shack, though not without keeping his wand resolutely pointed at Karkaroff, who clenched his jaw.
"Seventeen years," Karkaroff's throat was dry. That was right; he hadn't heard the voice in almost seventeen years; seventeen years of fear that he might one day have to listen to it again.
There was a ringing silence, until another man walked in behind Avery, undistinguishable from the others that waited outside.
"I thought so," said Avery. Meanwhile one of the Death Eaters raised his wand to the sky. A giant green skull appeared; the Dark Mark now glowed high above the shack Karkaroff had called home for the last few months.
Karkaroff lowered his own wand a bit─ better pretend he was agreeing to talk and get a chance to strike later and take them by surprise. "Four of you─ what an honour," he said sarcastically, trying to hide the fear from his voice.
Avery sniggered, glancing rapidly at the Death Eater standing beside him. "Told you he'd recognize an old friend."
The man merely shrugged. For an instant Karkaroff wondered who he was. Nott? Crabbe? Goyle? Malfoy? Probably not; he was, as far as Karkaroff could guess, a lot more gangly looking, and his energetic strides suggested that he was younger. A woman, maybe; someone like Bellatrix? Or a new young recruit?
Did it really make any difference?
"Speechless, are you, Igor?" Avery took a step forward. Karkaroff kept quiet, noticing that Avery was now using his first name, a rather interesting but offensive way of reminding him that they had once been friends.
He kept his tone low when answering. "Only wondering─"
"How we found you," Avery gave a hollow laugh at empty air, and Karkaroff felt as though his blood was being frozen, second after second. "I wasn't mere luck, Igor. However I dislike the man, I have to admit Snape is an accomplished spy."
Karkaroff did his best to keep his face composed. Snape. He had trusted Severus, always, ever since they had both turned their backs to Voldemort. Always─ until now. A surge of fury rose through him but, again, he managed to remain calm.
"Snape?" he asked quietly, his voice quiet incredulity. He was sweating now, whereas he should have been shivering because of the cold air from outside; but suddenly the shack seemed to be very warm, the air suffocating.
"Surprised, aren't you?"
It was more than surprise that Karkaroff felt─ it was disgust; disgust, and controlled anger. Snape had been the only one he had spoken to about his plans of hiding. Ever since the night he had fled after the Triwizard Tournament, not a soul on earth except him had known Karkaroff had tried to reach the northern lands of Finland.
"Simply took us a while to locate you here," Avery looked around again. "Pity you didn't come back that night, Igor." His voice was a cold as ever. "He forgave us, you know."
Now both Avery and the Death Eater next to him sniggered, seemingly enjoying themselves, while the two others, whose identities remained unknown to Karkaroff, kept guard outside. For a flickering moment Karkaroff thought the snigger of the man next to Avery was familiar─ but no, it was utterly impossible. Was he becoming mad?
Karkaroff needed more time; "I don't want I him /I to forgive me."
The eyes visible through the slits of Avery's hood narrowed. "This is war, Igor; and in a war you chose your side. Too bad you made the wrong choice."
"This isn't war─ it's─ you're just destroying humanity─"
Avery wasn't even listening. With cold detachment he took a step forward to Karkaroff and bent over him; and before Karkaroff had the time to realize what Avery was about to do it was too late, and the sleeve of his cloak was behind torn by the man's powerful grip.
"You swore obedience to the Dark Lord," Avery uncovered the Dark Mark imprinted on Karkaroff's forearm. It was there, a skull as black as death, glowing. It was at the same time hypnotising and nauseating, appalling and unreal. "Disloyalty never goes unpunished." Avery hit the mark with his closed fist and kept applying pressure on it, causing a pain in Karkaroff's forearm that was beyond description.
As he gasped for breath, however, Karkaroff became aware of the fact that he was as close to Avery as he would ever get. It was his only chance─ if ever he had one. At least, as a former Death Eater, he had powers within his grasp that not many had. "Crucio!" he bellowed in desperation, taking out his wand with his free hand.
Avery began to twitch and scream, but it lasted only a second before the other Death Eater ended it, and sent a stunning spell in Karkaroff's direction. Karkaroff rolled over and as his shoulder hit the floor painfully he again had the impression that the voice that had cast the stunner was one he had known before─ and yet the only explanation was that he was having hallucinations.
But whatever was happening to him, he wouldn't give up without fighting. "Imperio!"
The man who had stood next to Avery narrowly escaped the beam of light, and stumbled over a chair. He fell and, in the process, a part of his hood came off. Recognition flared in Karkaroff's eyes, and he knew, with a nameless certainty, that he had been right. He knew who it was under the black hood, he knew the one who had come to murder him─ and he knew that, burned on the forearm of his former student now glowed the Dark Mark. Through a blur he started at Viktor Krum, somehow unable to take in the terrible truth.
"Viktor─" Karkaroff breathed, momentarily paralysed as he stared at the face he had known for so long.
Krum returned the glance with loathing and, without breaking eye contact, disrespectfully placed his hood back in front of his face.
"Incarcero," Avery snarled, taking advantage of Karkaroff's shock to bind him.
"VIKTOR!" Karkaroff yelled, trying to break free of the ropes; but they would not go. Finally he managed to free his hand and point the tip of his wand at them. "Diffindo," he cut them loose.
"Not so proud now, are you?" Viktor muttered.
"Why did you do this?" Karkaroff replied through gritted teeth. "I've always looked after you─"
"Looked after me?" Krum was back on his feet, his wand aimed straight at Karkaroff's heart, who was now kneeling on the floor, feeling sick. "You always made a duty of protecting me, so that in the end I had no friend, nothing!" Krum spat. "I was your prisoner for all these years, your little pride at Quidditch that you carried around as a personal achievement."
For a moment Karkaroff was too stunned to speak, and when he was about to Viktor interrupted him.
"You never saw that one coming, did you? Well I'm free," he sneered, "─and I have powers."
Hope was now leaving Karkaroff. Not hope for himself─ that was too late and he knew it─ but somehow, during all these months in his shack, he had clung to the hope that he had made a difference at Durmstrang, that he had taught his students the difference between right and wrong, and that by doing so he had redeemed himself from his not so glorious past.
Seeing Krum, he realised he had failed.
In an access of rage, Karkaroff threw himself forward at Viktor and seized his throat with two hands, forgetting all about wands or magic. He wanted so badly to shake Krum, to see whether he was not under the Imperius curse, because this couldn't be him─ anyone, but not Krum. Yet the truth was slowly sinking into his mind, causing a pain that was far worse that physical.
There was a hiss as the word "crucio" emanated from Avery himself, and, as the rain fell harder than ever, it was Karkaroff who was thrown backwards, it was Karkaroff who crashed into the solid wall. After a few seconds that were agonizingly long the spell was lifted and he remained panting on the wooden floor.
Karkaroff got up, hatred carved in every line of his face as, again, he turned to Krum, the hole in his heart deepening. He wanted to yell at Viktor, he wanted to take revenge on him, because he was no better than the others, was he? He was no better than Voldemort, no better than Avery─ no better than Snape.
As the two other Death Eaters entered the shack Karkaroff realised he was outnumbered. They would win at the end─ there was no way around it.
But he, Igor Karkaroff, would make sure he stood for as long as he could before Voldemort triumphed again.
"Burn this place," Avery ordered at the two hooded men, and soon Karkaroff's wooden tables and chairs were on fire. The flames quickly reached the floor, licking the walls, the wood easily destroyed, the roaming of the fire covering the sound of the rain outside.
Karkaroff, his face burning due to the heat of the fire, raised his wand and pointed it at Avery, who was standing very calmly two feet from the ravaging flames, examining the devastation with quiet interest. "Avada Kedavra!" he dropped dead in front of Karkaroff, the green beam of light hitting him in the chest.
It shook the rest of the men out of their contemplation. There was a blast and blood spurted from Karkaroff's head, blinding him; simultaneously Krum took a step forward and his foot collided painfully with Karkaroff's stomach.
Why hadn't they finished him off yet? In a way, through a blur, Karkaroff knew the answer. He had killed Avery and the others would make sure his death wasn't painless. He would pay for his betrayal; he would be tortured until he would be so emotionally and physically broken that they would end it for him.
An hour later three silhouettes were walking again along the dirt path, their black boots leaving large footprints in the mud, the rain still falling in cascades over their heads. They left in their wake two bodies and a burning shack, above which shone an impressive skull, sign that Voldemort's influence was left unchallenged even here, in this remote and desert forest. The Dark Mark glowed in the cloudy sky, symbol once again of the Dark Lord's victory.
Igor Karkaroff would disappear. The world would never know he had felt remorse, it would not know he had died a hero.
No one would know he was sorry for all that had happened.
Would he be remembered? Maybe. He would live in the memories of those who had known him: a few Death Eaters who detested his name because he was a traitor, a few students who had never really liked him.
Tonight Viktor Krum and Severus Snape would drink to his death. Krum was young; he had made the same mistake as Karkaroff had done a long time ago. But Snape─ Snape was another story.
The green skull would fade away eventually, washed away by the rain, but still the world would not know before long how deep Severus Snape's treachery ran; they wouldn't know, none of them, what he had done. Albus Dumbledore wouldn't be aware of the danger within the walls of his school; he wouldn't know he had made a mistake trusting Severus Snape.
And when he would understand…
When he would find out the truth, it would be much too late.
A/N: Hope you liked it, it would mean a lot to me if you reviewed, just so I get some feedback on my work. Thanks for reading!