Crucie gave the final touches to her now completely messed up curls, and hung the Ghostly Ropes around her neck. Then she turned around the Theo.
"How do I look?"
Unadvertedly, Theodore had paled. In front of him floated a ghostly translucent version of Crucie, but with the help of a dozen makeup spells to give her sunken cheeks, deep-lying eyes with dark circles around them, and full, dark lips from which blood seemed to drip, she looked far more like a murderous vision from hell. The old clothes of her mother and the overtly tousled hair could fool anyone; to an unknowing person she was without a doubt Bellatrix Lestrange.
"Y-You… you look… terrible…"
Crucie raised an eyebrow.
"You know exactly what to say to compliment a girl, don't you?"
"Seriously. You are officially more creepy than the Dark Lord."
"Now THAT is a compliment. Shall we go?"
Everyone was at the party and the halls were nearly deserted. Crucie's newly acquired dark cloak –minus the pointy hat- served well to hide her current ghostly form, and in no time they had reached Crouch Sr.'s chambers. They weren't warded, and a simple Alohomora opened the door for them. Crucie handed her cloak to Theo, who then returned to the dorms. They would meet up later on.
Crucie smiled to herself as she saw the restlessly sleeping form of Bartemius Crouch. Barty had indeed magically bound the man to his bed, a measure she was happy with because she didn't know if she could have cast a good enough binding spell herself. A whispered Silencio made sure the man wouldn't be able to make a single sound, and then her game was on. She cackled in the man's ear,
"Wakey-wakey, Mr Crouch! Wake up and smell the psychosis!"
His eyes flew open, wide with panic, and he moved his mouth with no effect.
"Remember me, Mr Crouch? Remember who you sent to rot in Azkaban?"
Crucie saw how he paled in pure panic, still attempting to scream for help to no effect.
"Oh, Mr Crouch, don't try to scream… This is just you… and I… and revenge."
Crucie sent a first bout of the curse to the man, and seeing his face contort gave her a greater satisfaction than anything she had ever felt. This was the man that condemned her parents, the man who betrayed his own blood. He deserved the curse in all its glory.
"Is ickle Mr Crouch in pain? I hope he is…" Crucie cackled. Then her voice changed to her usual timbre again. "How does it feel, getting back what you dished out?"
And there was the curse again. Crucie relished the feeling; revenge was sweet indeed. Crouch's body was reaching the limit of what it could bear when pushed against the boundaries of the binding spell… She knew that she could make the man convulse more, eventually breaking his bones through the spell, but she decided not to. She stopped right before they broke, only to start again right away without giving him a second of reprieve.
"Insanity, Mr Crouch… You denied your son for it, accused me of it, and now… you're getting it back."
Crucie could feel an almost musical hum in her body, as if her magical core trilled in rhythm with the curse.
"Does this feel as nice to you as it does to me? Because this is Justice, Mr Crouch. If what you did to us is, this is too. And you like Justice so much, don't you?"
Crucie could almost feel how the curse literally frayed the man's nerves and damaged his cognition. If she continued he would be nothing but an empty shell soon, brain dead. She stopped for a moment.
"I will not grant you reprieve, Bartemius. I will not allow your mind to break and give you peace. I want you to feel, every day, how we have felt… I want you to bear the burden you faulted your son for."
A last stroke of the cruciatus, and Crucie was done. Crouch followed her with his eyes, scared, panicky, and yet slightly glazed over as if he wasn't all there anymore. Drool dripped from the corners of his mouth, and Crucie could smell his urine. Lovely.
"Good night, Mr Crouch. Insanity will sure be a lovely companion to you!"
She "floated" out of his room to the meeting point, where Theo was waiting for her behind an ugly statue. He had to admit that Crucie made a damn convincing ghost, and a very creepy one given the slightly reddish glow that gleamed in her ghostly grey eyes.
"You did it?"
"I did it."
She took the Ropes off and hid in her cloak. Together they hurried to the Slytherin Common Room. The only ones there were too drunk or too engaged in snogging to notice them, so they had nothing to worry about.
"He's…"
"Definitely a few sickles shorter. Tomorrow we'll see how many exactly."
With that Crucie returned to her dorms. She took off the clothes and hid them in her mother's trunk, which she then shrunk and hid in her own one. A couple scourgify's and a cold shower got rid of the rest of her disguise. As soon as she was out of the shower she wrapped up the Ropes and prepared to owl them back to Mr Burke, accompanied by a small note.
"Never forgotten, never forgiven, but dearly paid for. The Project was a success."
She went to bed with a rather mixed feeling. She was both exhausted and deeply satisfied…
(Pagebreak)
The next morning the Great Hall was back to it's normal state, but almost all the students bore the marks of a late night partying. Crucie didn't feel tired at all; she had gotten up feeling refreshed and energized for some reason. Now she sat at the Slytherin Table with Theo, waiting to see the fruits of their labor. Karkaroff entered the Hall looking nervous and trembling, looking behind his back a fair amount of times with a haunted look in his eyes. The Mentalis Suspicio had already started to work… The grand finale came however when the doors clapped open and a completely wrecked Bartemius Crouch stumbled into the Hall, followed by Professor Snape and Madam Pomfrey.
"She's BACK! I SAW her! AAAAH! The F-Fury, s-she returned from HELL!"
"Mr Crouch, please calm down!"
The man was wearing his night robes still, stained with urine and some telling brown smudges. With one hand he pulled his hair while with another he wielded his wand a little bit like a sword, sending surprisingly volatile bursts of undefined magic at the two professors that tailed him. Of course some of the younger students had to start screaming. Nothing topped the panicked screeching of Crouch though.
"The ghost of Bellatrix Lestrange! She CAME BACK! The pain! AAAARGH!"
"Mr Crouch, you are not well, I insist…"
Snape held Madam Pomfrey back.
"Don't bother. Stupefy."
The spell hit target and the crazed man dropped limply to the floor. The mediwitch frowned.
"Severus, that is not how you treat a patient with a mental affliction!"
"You think having him attack students was a better idea, Poppy?"
The mediwitch sighed and shook her head.
"I have notified St. Mungos. I don't know what hit him, but I'm afraid he's one for the Janus Thickey ward."
Madam Pomfrey floated the unconscious man out of the Great Hall, and Professor Snape took his place at the head table. Crucie could almost feel his eyes burning in her back… she was pretty certain next "detention" she would be interrogated…
She caught Theo looking at her, shock but also respect written on his face. He granted her a curt nod, which she returned. Project Unforgivable had been successfully completed.
(Pagebreak)
Time passed, and things returned to normal… There was still the triwizard tournament going on, and Hermione was terrified of what might happen to Harry, so Crucie kept her occupied with working out a way to transfer energy from a can of battery potion into a muggle device. There were also her incessant Parseltongue lessons, the banter with the Durmstrang students, "detentions" with Snape and Theo… She had been surprised that Snape did not interrogate her thoroughly or slipped Veritaserum in her food. He only observed her with that suspicious, slightly evil glare of his. She was pretty certain that he knew, but somehow he didn't feel the need to confront her. Weird. Ah well, maybe he had an egg to peel with Crouch as well.
Having successfully carried out her revenge, Crucie had decided on a new project. Project Neville. The boy's fear was so bad these days that he bolted whenever he saw her approach from afar, and although Crucie liked being scary she didn't like making people feel like they had to run for their lives.
"I don't see what it is with you and those boys. God's Night respects you, Strange Pain… He will bring you good offspring if you let him! Why follow the one male who wants nothing to do with you?"
"Regina, it's not like that. I want to make peace with Neville, that's all."
"I don't see why... He has the right of blood feud just like you did, Strange Pain. He is your family's enemy. It is good to have him at a distance, scared of you. Better than closeby and keen on retribution."
"That's what I mean. Fear breeds hatred. Besides, you know what they say, right? Keep your friends close and your enemies closer?"
"You are being political… Very Slytherin of you... But be careful. I don't want anything to happen to you, little hatchling."
"I'll be careful."
"Now, about that suitor of yours… Why don't you give him some more attention? Give him some more of what he got at the Yule Ball?"
"What? More of me dressed up as an undead version of my mom?"
"You silly, silly hatchling. You don't go into mating season with your old skin, now do you? You need to brush up a bit! Bring out those eyes, wear a nice blouse, or those lovely heels…"
"I don't need to seduce him, Regina. He's my friend and business partner. Besides, he has better things to do than lust after girls."
"Unless he is of the non-reproductive kind, I wouldn't be so sure of that… His bathroom exploits tell me he's definitely lusting after something…"
Crucie closed her eyes and tried to stop the mental images from forming. It had been bad before she knew Theo Nott personally, but now it was even worse.
"Gina, I did not need to know that. I have no desire to know anything about TWH!"
TWH, otherwise known as Theo's Wanking Habits, was one of Regina's favorite subjects, however in general the snake didn't discriminate as to whose sex life she speculated about, or worse, gave detailed descriptions of. Crucie had pleaded with the basilisk herself and she had pleaded with Salazar, but so far the only reprieve of Regina's debauchery she got was during History of Magic, when the serpent was too busy angering Mad Myrtle and frightening Professor Binns to make crude remarks on the "wand size" of the Slytherin boys or the rather girly noises Goyle tended to make when cumming.
"You are still young, yes, but soon you will be longing for a healthy, virile male! I'm just making sure you know about their prestations, so you can make an informed choice later on."
/Only a snake finding explain like that. /
"That was a surprisingly correct sentence, little hatchling… Maybe I have to pester you more like this, it seems to have a good effect on your tongue!"
"More? Is that even possible?"
(Author's Notes)
I'm back! This story isn't abandoned! I've been very busy with exams, learning Black Speech, writing LOTR fanfiction, going out of the country on an internet-less holiday, having gastroenteritis, and a lot of other unfortunate events. That is no excuse however, and I apologize.
You all have to thank the awesome Vivien Lestrange for this chapter -and the further continuation of this story- as she reminded me of this project of mine and urged me to update it...
Ethical Warning on this one, I suppose... Crucie is not holding herself back! She does a pretty convincing imitation of her mother, really... The curse gets stronger with the amount of emotion she puts in it and the amount of pleasure she derives from it, and as you can probably tell, that amount is in both cases very high...
And Regina... I admit, I missed her. She's awesome. xD
I don't take credit for the phrase "Wake up and smell the psychosis", as it is a quote of Caprica 6 from BSG-2003. I just couldn't resist using it.
PLEASE REVIEW!
I will try not to let you down again, I hope you can forgive me... Please let me know what you thought of it?