A/N: Sorry about how long it has been since I updated! I have been very busy lately and there has been no new inspiration for this chapter until now. Please enjoy!
THIS IS A REALLY SHORT CHAPTER. IT IS ONLY A FEW PAGES LONG BECAUSE I WANTED TO END IT ON A CLIFFHANGER. I AM SORRY AND I HOPE THE NEXT, LONGER CHAPTER WILL BE OUT SOON. AGAIN, THIS IS A VERY SHORT CHAPTER.
WARNINGS: See Prologue
This is unbeta'd. If you would like to beta, please contact me.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor do I make any money from the writing of this fiction. No copyright infringement is intended.
Chapter 6
After a few seconds, the brothers lifted the curse. "No rape," they said before walking from the dungeons.
YMRWYS- YMRWYS- YMRWYS- YMRWYS
The next morning, Comedy and Tragedy showed up in Tom's study. "Could you please call Draco in. We need to apologize for what we did last night."
"First, please explain to me why you said no rape." Voldemort said as he looked up from his paperwork. He looked like Tom Riddle from the diary again, only he now looked to be in his late twenties, or early thirties. He had grown his hair, too, and it now went a third of the way down his back. Comedy and Tragedy nodded, before Comedy's form shifted.
Comedy turned into the largest Dementor Tom had ever seen. He was huge, and Tom could instantly feel the strong effect of having such a large Dementor in close proximity. He knew that some of the signs of his feelings were shown on his face, but Tragedy looked calm as a cucumber. "As you can see, Tom, Comedy's Animagus form is a Dementor. Comedy is all that is left of the 'good' part of…that thing we used to be. I am all of its negative emotions. Comedy is only a Dementor Animagus because of his high magic levels and insanity."
"What do you mean, 'only a Dementor Animagus'?"
"Do you know how a Dementor is created?" Tom shook his head. "Dementors are the tortured souls of innocents. They are what becomes of a pure soul that has been wronged so much, be it by fate or man, that they cannot continue. That is why they feed on happy memories: because they do not have any of their own. Comedy's insanity and high power levels have kept him from becoming a full on Dementor. You can be assured that, had he been truly sane when he broke, he would be a Dementor."
"OK, but what does this have to do with rape?"
"Did you know that raping a person taints their soul? It literally turns a piece of the victim's soul into this," he said as he grabbed the material of Comedy's Dementor cloak. "This cloak is made of the blackened pieces of dead human souls. Not all of it is from rape victims, some souls blacken through grief, or violence, or a broken heart. But rape is the fastest thing to blacken a soul. It takes only one rape to turn a pure soul into a Dementor. Once a soul is completely blackened, if it was once pure, it becomes a Dementor, and, if was not once pure, the soul dies and becomes a Dementor's cloak."
Tom was aghast at this. He had let his minions create Dementors? How could he be so stupid as to not research this? Granted, he had never ordered his men to rape people, but he had never forbade it, allowing his people to enjoy the spoils of a raid. He would, however, put a stop to that.
Comedy changed back into his normal-if you could call it that-form. Tom called a House Elf and ordered it to fetch Draco. A few minutes later, a knock was heard at the door. "Enter," Tom called.
Draco came into the study, his face a blank mask, but he faltered a bit when he saw the brothers. "You called, my lord?" he asked.
Tom nodded at the brothers, then left the study.
"Sit, Draco."
Draco did as he was told, albeit with a slight tremor in his hand.
"Draco, we are sorry about casting the Cruciatus on you when you attempted to rape Ginnevra. However, we did have a reason." So, Tragedy and Comedy gave Draco the same demonstration and explanation they gave to Tom.
Draco accepted their apology after he had heard why they had done it. "Are there any lasting effects?" they asked. "Fred and George would not appreciate it if the one they were pining after were hurt."
Draco's eyes widened at hearing the (sexy) twins were pining after him. "No, there are none, my lords," he said.
"Draco, please, call us Comedy and Tragedy. We hate the 'Yes, my lord,' 'No, my lord,' 'Let me bend over this table for you, my lord,' bullshite."
Draco snorted at the implication in their words, then nodded his acquiescence.
As the silence kept on, it got more uncomfortable for Draco. Suddenly, one voice spoke up.
"You know, Draco, I have regretted not taking your hand on the train since…oh, I'd say around when my name came from that thrice damned Goblet. So, since we're here, I would like to offer you that hand you offered me on the train."
Draco, confused at the sudden want of his friendship, looked up from where he ahd been looking at the hands in his lap, and gasped at what he saw."
YMRWYS-YMRWYS-YMRWYS-YMRWYS
A/N: So, a cliffie! OOOOOOOOO. I WONDER WHATS GONNA HAPPEN NEXT.
Review? PLEASE?
