Author's Note: I'm really very sorry that this chapter has taken so long to come, but I have literally been revising frantically for the past week or so. I am currently having a breather before I dive back in again :p Thank you to all those who have reviewed or added the story to their alerts – I haven't forgotten to reply, I just haven't had time. I will be doing that as I post this chapter – which I hope you enjoy!
6. Welcomes.
Donna shivered against the mild summer air, trying not to hyperventilate as a tall, skeletal man with a snake-like face strolled into the middle of the circle, parting cloaked men in his way with unconcealed ease. His very presence was enough to send some members of the circle into shivers – of fear or reverence, Donna could not tell, but she hardly thought it mattered to the man, as long as the outcome was the same.
Beside her, Master Crouch was practically bouncing on the balls of his feet, contrasting the silent and rigid stance of Headmaster Snape on his other side. She was sure that, could she see his face, he would be smiling widely.
She tried not to let her true disgust and fear show as the circle suddenly started to bow and mutter as the man came to a halt. Vaguely, she was aware of Master Crouch's bony fingers pushing into her neck.
"Don't just stand there, Noble," he hissed as he grabbed her, "bow. This is your ultimate Master – the leader before whom the entire world will bow."
Good for some, she thought as she recognised the mad lilt to his voice. But my family…
"I have gathered you all here today," the high voice announced, sending chills down Donna's spine, "to welcome the return of one of my most loyal servants." The grotesque face smiled. "And, of course, to introduce his mentally limited female companion."
The masked Death Eaters laughed heartily, several offering catcalls to Donna, much to the creature's amusement.
"Bartemus Crouch," the man crowed, "my Azkaban-humbled servant – reveal yourself to me. I wish to see you."
Master Crouch's breath hitched.
"Do not hide behind Severus' spare mask," the voice continued silkily. "It has been a regrettably long time – and you missed my birthday, if I remember correctly."
Snickers.
The mask came off, revealing Master Crouch's face, forehead glistening with sweat, eyes mad with devotion. Donna idly wondered if this was the human equivalent of the house elves she had heard so much about.
Gasps. A ripple of speech. All eyes fixed upon her master's face.
If the man had possessed eyebrows, they would surely have risen in pleasant surprise. "Come to me."
Master Crouch stepped closer as if enchanted; once, twice, before he ran to his Master's feet, head bowed, kneeling in the dirt. "My Lord," he said enthusiastically, only daring to look into the red eyes for brief seconds, "I am honoured to be by your side once more."
The truth suddenly hit her like a sledge hammer, a belated bow to her consciousness - it was the Dark Lord. She was finally meeting the Dark Lord. Bile rose up in her throat as she looked at the monster surrounded by his faithful followers, but she forced herself to look as calm as she could. Fear and panic would not help her family now. She was still in control.
"I hear," the Dark Lord said, deliberately slowly and clearly so that all could understand the conversation, "that you have brought me a welcome gift?"
"I have!" Master Crouch exclaimed. "I researched for it endlessly, my Lord – for hours, I laboured to make it work! For you, my Lord, and for your final victory!"
The Dark Lord smiled and placed his palm on Master Crouch's hair, allowing him to regain his feet and stand before him, eye to eye. The crowd held its collective breath at this undisputed honour. "Let me see," the cold voice demanded, and suddenly his wand was out, pointed at Master Crouch's head, sending him writhing to the floor, his head craned at uncomfortable angles to keep eye contact with the red eyed monster.
Beside her, Snape stiffened slightly, though Donna did not understand why. He was not going through the torture, whatever it was. He was safe, inside the crowd, next to Donna.
Master Crouch gasped and rolled onto all fours, coughing, while the Dark Lord stared at him, smiling as though he had just been awarded his greatest enemy's head on a silver platter.
"The rumours are true," he stated. "You have built me a time machine."
"You can win the war, my Lord," Master Crouch coughed, "by going back in time and freeing all the Death Eaters who ever died – we could have a mass army-"
"Yes," the Dark Lord hissed, fingering his wand slowly. "There is, however, one slight problem." His voice became hard. "You seem uncertain, Bartemus."
"Of course, my Lord – the machine was broken-"
"Show me," the Dark Lord interrupted, "your arm."
"My arm, my Lord? I'm loyal – I've dreamt-"
"Your arm."
The silence was almost tangible as Master Crouch rolled up his left sleeve, his eyes never leaving the Dark Lord's face. Red eyes narrowed.
"What is this?"
"I-" the kneeling man risked a glance at his arm, shoulders stiff, "-it's burnt," he concluded. "My equipment burnt me when it caught fire."
They both stared, eye to eye, for what seemed like an eternity. This time, Master Crouch was not knocked to the floor.
"Who did this?"
Donna closed her eyes, knowing what was coming.
"It was the Muggle, my Lord! She pressed the wrong button – she sent us spinning out of control! I had to drain all of the power supply just to stop us from hurtling into nothingness!"
"Bring the Muggle forward," the Dark Lord ordered, almost as though he was anticipating something wonderful.
Donna felt a brief and ridiculous wave of betrayal as Snape grabbed her arm and frogmarched her to the centre of the circle and threw her to the floor, next to Master Crouch, who glared at her as though she had caused everything wrong in the world.
"So you," the monster hissed as Snape rejoined the circle, "are responsible for this. Let me know how it happened – look me in the eyes, you foolish woman, I will learn nothing from you while you are staring at the ground."
Feeling like she was about to witness the world as she knew it exploding inside her head, Donna looked up, and found the unforgivably red eyes of the pale man before her.
She resisted the urge to snap her head back as his mind tore through hers, leaving destruction in its wake. It was hate incarnate, full of revenge and anger. It was full of grudges.
It wasn't a mind. It was a devil.
The TARDIS swam into view, smoke beginning to emerge from the console she was working on.
"Merlin – what have you done now, Noble? Can't you do anything right?"
"I'm – Master Crouch, I – I didn't-"
"Quiet." He reached over her with his left arm, about to press a button, when the console exploded into flame, sparks licking at his sleeve.
She watched as he jerked it back, snarling. An alarm began to blare.
"I thought you were meant to be a Muggle technician," he spat. "Well, look where your skills have got us now. Congratulations, Noble, you've broken the ship. We're going to crash."
Her mind seemed to grow lighter as he withdrew, and she scrambled to put her mind to rights, her head pounding out a staccato rhythm.
Ignoring her, the Dark Lord cast a charm on her Master's arm. It glowed green, with red around the edges. As the colours began to fade, the Dark Lord's face relaxed to a minute degree.
"The Mark is intact," he announced. "You do not need to worry, Bartemus. Do you think that I would disgrace my followers with a Mark the mere fire destroyed?" he chuckled. "My enchantments are stronger than that."
"I am relieved, my Lord."
"Yes…as you should be. But you, Muggle," the Dark Lord rounded on Donna. "Have you yet been punished for your transgression?"
"I-I-I-" she could not speak. She couldn't breathe. Sound began to muffle and the world began to swim.
"She has not, my Lord." So that was what Master Crouch sounded like when being reprimanded.
Eyes widened as a substitute for raising eyebrows. "Crucio," he said, almost casually, flicking his wand at Donna.
She was engulfed in fire, her eyelids squeezed shut as though they were nailed so her sockets. Her body writhed and thrashed in the dirt as her mind floundered. Dimly, over the roaring in her ears, she could hear a voice.
"You have cost me my greatest weapon," it snapped, sounding suddenly on the verge of a complete breakdown into angry hysteria. "Your carelessness, your inability to think-"
She couldn't concentrate on the words. She didn't want to. She just wanted the pain, the constant torment, the searing agony, to end.
"-muggles are useless. You are the epitome of-"
Fire. Pure, never-ending, everlasting fire. And pain. Nothing but pain, and darkness, and screams – make it stop – make it stop-
"Please! No – stop – stop – stop-"
"-just punishment! It is all you deserve-"
"I can't, please-"
She was going to break apart-
"PLEASE!"
"-for the future!"
Abruptly, it stopped. Donna gasped an almighty gasp, shuddering, finding that she was staring into the night strewn sky. She wanted desperately to go – up there. Anywhere. But definitely not here.
"Now," the voice continued, calmer now, "you will begin work on fixing my machine."
"It – it-"
An invisible force dragged her upwards and she lolled against it, still half sitting, staring helplessly into red eyes. "Do continue," it purred.
All instincts screamed at her to stop, to clam up, not to give him any information.
"It- it – needs – artron energy-"
"Artron energy?"
"It – powers the ship," she gasped out.
"I have never heard of it."
"It's a – a muggle word – it's energy – it's inside human beings…"
An oppressive silence. Then…
"Human beings?" Red eyes searched hers and, finding no lie, looked around at the assembled group. "The next time you kill," he said, his voice high and mirthful, "be sure to 'play with your food'. As the scum dies, seep their life force dry and store it, as you would store a memory or a potion. How much energy does it need?"
"A – a lot," she grimaced. "It depends – depends on – the source."
The Dark Lord smirked. "It seems," he said, loud enough for all to hear, "that there is no limit." He widened his arms. "Let the first of the raids begin!"
There were cheerful whoops at that and a hubbub of noise as the group readied itself for battle. The Dark Lord raised a single finger, and a figure remained behind as the others disappeared, vanishing without a trace.
"My Lord, you are most generous," Master Crouch said, getting eagerly to his feet.
"Your initiative shall be rewarded, Bartemus. Tell Amycus that he is now the Dark Arts teaching assistant – you shall be professor. If he has any complaints," the mouth smiled grotesquely, "I am not hard to find."
Master Crouch bowed, then hauled Donna to her feet, where she swayed precariously. "You are most gracious, my Lord." He bowed.
"Yes," the Dark Lord agreed simply. "Severus," he called, addressing the figure stood a little way off, "you will assign them with proper quarters – their current rooms appear not to suffice." He raised an eyebrow. "An abandoned classroom is hardly fitting for a hero of war, don't you agree?"
Snape bowed. "As you wish, my Lord. I shall have Amycus and Alecto move in together to save space."
The Dark Lord smiled. "Your foresight amuses me, my servant. Yes, I believe that shall be fitting. Bartemus – your assistant shall also find her rightful place under my rule." His cruel smile widened. "Tell Argus Filch," he purred, "that he has the company that I promised him."
Master Crouch smirked back and Donna felt her heart drop. "Gladly, my Lord."