DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter.

Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition: Round 9

Team: Kenmare Kestrels

Position: Seeker

Prompt: Write a fic inspired by the Disney film "The Hunchback of Notre Dame."


Regulus turns away as the Dark Lord fires another Cruciatus at the girl. The girl screams, and he finally turns back, his eyes locking onto hers.

He wishes he could pull his eyes away, but she has ensnared him in those misty green orbs. Her lips part in a silent plea, and he can't take it anymore.

"My lord," he calls, stepping forward with trembling legs. "Would it not be wise to let her rest for now? I know she has information about the Order." He bows his head.

The Dark Lord releases the curse with a flippant wave of his wand. "Perhaps you are right, Black."

"First and last time," Regulus hears a Death Eater snicker. Probably Mulciber, seeing as he downright hated Regulus.

"Quiet!" the Dark Lord says as he twirls his wand in his fingers idly. "We will keep this Mudblood until she proves that she is of no use to us. After that…" A macabre smile takes to the Dark Lord's lips.

"Of course, my lord," the Death Eaters chorus like a row of toy soldiers.

"Black, you will take care of the Mudblood until I call for her." The Dark Lord curls his lip in distaste as he sneers at the girl.

"It would be a pleasure, my lord," Regulus says, flashing a triumphant grin at Mulciber.

"My lord, he is too inexperienced. Let me do this instead," Mulciber says, stepping forward.

The Dark Lord turns his gaze to Mulciber, fixing his red eyes on him in a glare. "Are you questioning my orders?"

Mulciber's uncaring facade quivers as he bows his head. "No, of course not, my lord."

"Good." The Dark Lord turns back to Regulus. "Take her away. I have no wish to see more of this filthy Mudblood." With that, he strides away, black robes gliding over the stone floor silently. The Death Eaters follow him out, whispering.

Regulus squats down beside the girl, reaching out to roll her onto her back. "What's your name?" he asks softly.

The girl's lips tremble before she speaks in a hoarse voice. "Mary."

"Mary," Regulus repeats, nearly flinching at the tingle the name left on his lips. "What about your surname?"

Mary manages to smile. "Now, why would I tell you that?"


Regulus watches as Mary wanders around the room, taking in the way her bronze curls sway from side to side with each step.

"What's your name?" she asks, fixing her eyes on him. They trap him again, just as they had two nights ago.

"Reg." He refuses to give in to the temptation to tell her his full name.

Mary raises an eyebrow. "That's a nickname."

"It is," he says, hoping his face is still uncaring.

"Why'd you become a Death Eater?" She sits down across from him, elbows resting on her knees as she leans forward.

"I wanted to." Regulus feels uncomfortable in the silence that follows.

"Why?" she asks, her gaze intense. "Does it please you to watch people like me, Mudbloods, suffer?"

He flinches. "You don't understand."

"Does it?" Mary stands up suddenly. Regulus sees a hint of a tear in her eyes. She walks closer until her face is leaning close to his. "Do you like it when you see them scream, when you see their filthy blood spill out?"

"I—"

"Do you think I'm filthy too? Would you like to see my blood?" She wraps her fingers around his wrist, holding it tightly. "Perhaps you'll find out that you're the one who's filthy."

Mary lets go and walks out, closing the door to her bedroom silently. Regulus hears a small sob as he sits there, dumbstruck.

Is what she says right?


"Give me that."

"No." She waves his wand around, holding it in front of him tauntingly. She pulls it back when he tries to grab it.

"Mary. Give me my wand," he says, reaching out again.

"Why? So that you can torture me?"

"You know I would never torture you."

"What if your wonderful master tells you to? Would you still say no?" Mary asks, the wand dangling from her fingers, forgotten.

"I… I don't know." Regulus takes a deep breath, trying to clear out the emotions pulsing through his veins. "I don't know."

The corners of her lips quirk up in a hint of a smile. She sets the wand down and steps forward. He can feel her breath, warm and soothing, on his neck, sending tingles racing through his heart.

She rises up on her toes ever so slowly. Then, with no trace of hesitance, she closes the distance between them.

Regulus is frozen for a moment before realizing what's happening. Mary's eyes flutter open, and she stares at him, a hint of a question in her green eyes.

He leans into the kiss, first with hesitance, then eagerly. He wraps his arms around her waist, running his fingers through her silky hair. He can't control the flood of emotions pouring over him.

They break apart, hearts beating at a pace thought impossible. Their eyes are locked.

"Would you still curse me?" Mary asks, arms still wrapped around him.

"Never."

But suddenly an angel has smiled at me

And kissed my cheek without a trace of fright

I dare to dream that she

Might even care for me

And as I ring these bells tonight

My cold dark tower seems so bright

I swear it must be heaven's light


The waves crash against the cliff, water catching the red light of the sky as it sprays out.

Two bodies lay on the sand, hands entwined, lips graced by gentle smiles. Their eyes are still open, a clash of misty green and grey.

The water slips over them in a caress, closing their eyes.

The wind seems to whisper one thing: Rest in peace, my angels.