Prologue

"Are you going to kill me?" He had tired to force some bravado into his voice, but it came out barely more than a shaking whisper. Even to himself he sounded like a terrified boy.

"You come from a good family. I will admit it would be such a waste to dispose of you." His captor's voice seemed to be tinged with a shadow of genuine regret. "But I'm prepared to do what I have to. So what's your answer? Will you join us on our quest? The road to greatness needs a man like you."

"No." His voice was stronger now, if only a little. His captor sighed and flicked his wand lazily, as if hid prisoner was causing him a mild inconvenience.

"Crucio." The word sent an avalanche of pain tearing through his body. It seemed to rip apart his every cell and burned like fire in his veins. "I'll ask you again, what's your answer?"

He closed his eyes, prepared to die. He tried to remember what she looked like, that day on the beach, her hair blowing in the breeze, breathless and laughing, that day when the world had seemed so far away. He tried to remember how she felt in his arms, leaning in close, the two of them dancing to the music of the crashing waves. But instead quite a different picture came to find, and he almost smiled to himself, because he knew this was the version of herself she would have wanted him to remember. Her cheeks were tear stained and red. A smudge of dirt was smeared across her forehead and the gash on her cheek had oozed droplets of blood that ran into her mussed hair.

" Sometimes you only get one chance," she had said, her voice was strong, even though she was shaking, "to stand up for what you believe in. I mean to really stand up for it. There are some things that are worth dying for; something's are just bigger than yourself. Those are the things worth fighting for."

He took one deep breath and in a voice that sounded as sure as he felt said what would surely be his last words, "That's still a no."