Molly couldn't comprehend what was happening. It had to be a dream, a cruel trick that her subconscious was forcing her to believe. Ron, Fred, George, Charlie, Bill. Having just one of her children disappear would be nightmarish enough, but five; it was unthinkable.

Barely suppressed panic began to rise inside her, but she still couldn't speak, she had been unable to since she, and the others who had come to Shell Cottage for refuge, had become aware of the situation. She remained in a dreamlike state, staring ahead. Outwardly, she almost appeared calm, but tears rolling down her cheeks told otherwise. She could tell that the panic would soon overwhelm her.

You have to think Molly, stay alert. They need you.

Molly snapped back to reality very suddenly, furiously wiping tears from her face. The rest of the room jumped slightly, looking up towards her with something that looked like a glimmer of hope in their eyes. It was a seconds peace before Fleur, crumpled on the floor, began to sob once more.

"We need...we need to start a search," Molly addressed the room shakily.

"I'm going to speak to Kingsley," Arthur stood as he spoke, stepping forward to give his wife a quick, tight hug. He spoke softly again as he drew back, "We don't know what's happened yet, they may have just been delayed in getting here."

"Arthur," Another tear slid down Molly's cheek, "Fleur and Ginny saw Bill..." She stopped, unable to continue the sentence.

"I should have stayed," Ginny murmured angrily, almost too quietly for anyone to hear. Fleur let out another loud sob.

"Ron's with Harry and Hermione, he'll be ok," Arthur told his wife.

"On some very dangerous mission that we know nothing about," Molly snapped back, beginning to pace.

Arthur looked defeated, his face tired, dark bags forming under his eyes, "I'll talk to Kingsley, Molly. They'll be ok."

The couple shared one last look before Arthur left the cottage, unchecked tears rolling down his face.

XXXX

"I suppose you know what happens when a body is subjected to the Cruciatus curse for too long?" Bellatrix's childlike voice asked. She was met with silence.

The four Weasleys had been brought back up the stairs to the main room. Charlie was dragged, trying desperately not to cry out as his injured leg thumped against each step. The mullioned windows were now covered by dark heavy curtains, the only light in the room provided by candles in sconces along the walls.

Bellatrix looked between her four prisoners for a moment. Then, her eyes fixed on Bill, her mouth curled into a cruel smile.

"Crucio," She flicked her wand casually at Bill, her voice was a mixture of fury and pleasure.

Immediately blinding pain shot through his entire body, every muscle tightened, his bones ached, his joints twisted. His heart raced, every pump sending a new wave of pain, as every intake of breath became a struggle. He bit down hard on his lip in a desperate attempt to keep himself from crying out, drawing blood.

"First," Bellatrix began calmly, as though she was talking about the weather, "Your muscles begin to weaken." Delight slipped into her voice. Bill's teeth slipped, and he couldn't help but let out a groan of pain. She twisted her wand and he felt his torso bend to the left with another wave of blinding pain, he screwed his eyes tight shut with another moan.

He could barely focus on anything but the pain, he vaguely registered shouting beside him, which stopped abruptly. He felt himself being lifted up, onto the tips of his toes and then off the floor. He couldn't help it, another long cry of pain slipped out.

"Then, your brain cells start to die."

His heart beat ever faster, so hard it felt like it was banging against the inside of his ribs, breathing became more difficult. His mind was screaming at him, and he was only slightly aware of the fact that the same noise might be coming out of his mouth.

His body began to writhe, mid air, involuntarily. Bellatrix began to laugh.

Then, suddenly, he crumpled to the floor, but the relief he'd expected didn't come. His body continued to ache, his temples throbbed, and his heart still raced. He became aware that there were tears resting on his cheeks as he dragged in desperate rasping breaths.

"Bill?" It was Fred...or was it George...usually he could l tell their voices apart, one of the only ones who could. But his mind was spinning, the pain so distracting. He had to open his eyes, assure them he was ok.

It took him a few tries to get them open, they'd been screwed up so tightly. When he did he was looking up into four pairs of identical worried eyes, the image swimming in front of him. There were two of them...of the same person. No, he was being silly, it was just the twins...no, they both had two ears...

He couldn't think about it, he tried valiantly to lift himself into a sitting position, but as the room continued to spin around him, he gave up, ending up lying face down on the floor instead.

Bellatrix was still laughing. Then suddenly she stopped and took in a long breath before breaking out into another horrific smile.

"Let them dwell on that for a while," She said, "I have more important things to do for the moment. We've had news of the boy."

In the back of Bill's mind a tiny voice registered that she was only saying this to advance the panic, but it was quickly swept away as he was pulled to his feet. He tried desperately to get them to stand flat on the floor, not wanting to lean on the Death Eater who had moved him, but he couldn't seem to get them to do what he wanted them to. He was dragged along, his feet banging on each step. They reached the cell and he almost didn't feel it as he was pushed down onto his face. His eyes slipped closed as his temples pounded.

"Bill?" It was almost in unison that his three brothers said his name, concern filling their voices. He wanted to open his eyes again, he wanted to tell them he was ok, but his body wasn't cooperating.

Hands were on his sides, shaking him.

"Bill, please."

It took all of his little remaining energy reserves for him to shift his weight onto his left shoulder. With another groan of pain, he tipped himself over, rolling onto his back, and then finally opening his eyes.

The room didn't seem to be moving as much now, and if he took deep breaths it was almost still.

"Bill, are you alright?" Charlie asked, alarmed.

"Of course he's not alright," Fred interjected hoarsely, Bill counted it as a good sign that he could now tell which twin it was. George stared, white under his freckles.

Bill opened his mouth, throat horribly dry, and tried to speak. It took a few hoarse rasps before Fred quickly slid over to the side of the room to grab the water jug, pouring the cool liquid gently into Bill's mouth. He put the jug down again and Bill's eyes flitted between the three of them. Finally, he was able to speak.

"I'm fine," Was all he said to begin with.

"Bloody hell," Charlie hissed, there were unshed tears in his eyes. Bill looked round to see it was the same with the twins.

"She...she did it for so long...we thought your mind might..." George left the sentence hanging, they all knew what he meant.

Bill didn't dare say it, but he didn't feel normal. His concentration kept wavering, his eyes sliding sideways and away from his brother's worried faces.

"Everything's fine," Bill snapped his eyes back to them, looking up as he was still lying flat on his back, "I'm just glad it wasn't one of you." He told them.

Or that's what he thought he said. Actually, he registered afterwards, the last part didn't come out. Instead he was opening and closing his mouth like a goldfish.

"Oh Merlin," Charlie whispered almost inaudibly, but Bill wasn't looking at him, he was staring at the iron bars of the door, "Bill, try to stay focussed." But Bill couldn't keep himself awake any longer, and he slipped away into the blissful, pain-free oblivion of darkness.

The last thing he heard was someone's voice saying, "...St. Mungo's."