A/N: Hello again. I thought I'd go ahead and get this written. I know I
only updated on the 22nd, but it just seemed like it was too short and too
abrupt.
-Anna Dearest
Chapter 11
Screams were heard from all over. Neville stood next to Dean and Seamus, admiring the different jokes inside Zonko's, but it took only seconds before the attack became obvious to them. His companions briefly looked at each other before taking off into the crowd, leaving Neville to gape at the fires erupting from the forest.
The boy finally came to his senses and took off running towards the edge of the village. He'd only run so far however, when a foot extended from behind the sidewall of a shop, right in Neville's path. He fell flat on his face and took a few precious seconds to gather his wits.
Looking up from his spot on the dirt, he met the uncompassionate eyes of a Death Eater, the rest of the face hidden behind a mask. A hand reached down for him and picked him up by his hair. Neville winced, but the Death Eater only laughed.
"Well, well, well.Little baby Nevvy's all grown up," a familiar taunting voice rang out amongst the villager's screams.
"You!" Neville growled, finally realizing that he was at the mercy of Bellatrix Lestrange once more.
Bellatrix laughed harshly. "Yes, of course it's me! Who else would take such pleasure in your company?"
Neville blindly reached for his wand in his robe pocket, only to find an empty space. A bucket of ice seemed to have settled in his stomach. He was completely defenseless against the one who'd tortured his parents into insanity.
"Looking for this Nevvy?" Bellatrix wiggled a wand between her fingers. "I was assuming that sooner or later you'd try something stupid. Just saving you the trouble." She pocketed the wand and grasped Neville by the hair once more, keeping her own wand trained on him. "At least I have a present for my Master. He has a new toy since he doesn't have Potter.yet."
With that, Bellatrix activated a Portkey and carried Neville away to his doom, still dragging him by his hair.
**********
This had to be the worst headache he'd ever had.
Neville's eyes flickered open groggily and he tried to sit up. He was sore all over and felt as though he'd just been in one of those Muggle cartoons where they drop an anvil on top of someone, only much worse.
His attempt at righting himself was feeble though, as he soon found himself lying on his tense back on a cold, hard floor. He had no idea where he was; only that he was in some kind of cell, in some kind of torture. He'd been under the Cruciatus Curse multiple times, receiving hex after hex from the dark robed figures.
But Voldemort himself had been the worst.
He'd laughed as Neville's feigned bravery as he lay in agonizing pain in the dark, taunting him and the memory of what his parents used to be. Then he'd tortured him. For how long, he didn't really know. He didn't care either. Now, he just wanted it to end.
"Harry," Neville croaked, barely a whisper, "How do you keep on doing this?"
"He does foolish things that nearly get him and his pathetic companions killed," Voldemort hissed venomously from outside the bars of the tiny cell. "He tries to fight, but sooner or later, all those who fight against me suffer the same fate. Death."
"No."
"Yes, boy. Death. Of course, everyone has a choice. There are those like your dear Harry Potter, the saviour, who choose to take it painfully, suffering more and more every time. Then there are those who I have a little mercy upon, killing them quickly and painlessly.
"You see, the Killing Curse is not such a terrible fate, Longbottom. It is quick, and quite painless. A simple wave or your wand and an incantation can put those suffering terribly out of their misery. Death is mercy for some. But then again, there is no worse fate than Death."
"You're wrong."
"What?" Voldemort's voice was an icy hiss now. He stepped into the small cell, wand trained unwaveringly on Neville. "What can possibly be worse, you foolish boy?"
"Losing someone.seeing others in pain.too much pain.too much."
"Too much you say? No.I think you could deal with a little more! Crucio!"
The pain was too much, and Neville too numb. He had not even the strength to cry out and scream. Just and soon as it had come, it was gone.
"You'll all end up the same," Voldemort hissed. "You, Potter, that Mudblood I know you associate with, those Weasleys, all of those members of that precious Defense Team at Hogwarts.all of you! And I'll grant no easy way out for any of you."
"Why.?"
"Why what, Longbottom?"
"Why do you.why do..why do you do this?"
"Because someone has to do what others won't. Because someone has to think what others don't. And someone has to see the truth. There is not good and evil, only power. There are no sides. Everyone eventually cowers at the feet of someone greater than themselves!
"Why?! Protection! Fear! Uselessness! That is all it ever winds down to. Certainly, during your luxurious stay here, you've managed to meet Wormtail?"
It was a rhetorical question, Neville knew, but yes, he'd met Wormtail, better known as Peter Pettigrew.
"He came to me, helped me achieve what I have. Why? Loyalty? Certainly not! It was fear. It was fear that drove him to serve me years ago, to betray the Potters, who he had counted as friends, to sell them to their own demise.and I must admit, mine.
"He himself was once a Gryffindor like you, idolized for courage. Yet, I can strike fear into any heart. Don't you agree?
"Did he return to me afterwards out of loyalty? Still, no. He returned because those he'd once counted as friends would kill him otherwise. Who knows? They may still kill him! Either way, all that is done, is done in fear. In times like these, there is no other way. More people do not necessarily have to die. Your parents did not have to end up the way they did.
"It's true. If they had submitted, they would have gone on to see you go to Hogwarts, graduate, start a family, live your own life. Now, they do not have that option. Why? They did not give in to their fear. As brave as their antics were, it was foolish. This is what it all winds down to."
With those last words, the Dark Lord swept out of the cold cell, leaving Neville laying on the ground. Neville can to one final conclusion. He'd find a way out, but he wouldn't sink so low as those before him.
**********
Peter cringed as he walked into the cramped, cold cell. Neville Longbottom, a young boy he'd last seen as a baby, lay in a crumpled heap on the floor. Memories flashed through Peter's mind of his own time in a cell like this and he began to tremble as he pushed the small food ration towards to weakened boy.
"You're getting very sentimental, Pettigrew," a harsh voice laughed behind him. Since his brief return from Hogwarts, Bellatrix had made a point to taunt and annoy him. "Doesn't this bring back memories?"
'It should,' Peter thought bitterly, 'you're the one who tortured me into that position.'
"You broke much faster than him though," Bellatrix commented dryly. "By this time, if I recall correctly, you already had the Dark Mark branded on your arm."
Indeed, it was true. Peter had been caught off his guard. Memories flooded Peter's mind, and a flashback came to him, unwelcome though it was.
**********
It had been a dull night at the Ministry, as if Peter's clerical duties were boring enough. He sat late into the night, shuffling through files and sorting them out, occasionally interrupted as his superiors swept from the office, leaving for home. Peter sighed inwardly. He still had stacks of papers to sort through before his night was done.
The stillness of the office was unnerving once all the others had left. The silence was too deep, and Peter felt the hair on the back of his neck prickle in anticipation and fear. He'd never been a particularly brave man, and given the current circumstances of the world, fear was completely acceptable.
A wand aimed pointedly at the back of his neck confirmed his fears and suspicions. He was going to die. Tonight would be his last on this earth.
"Stand up, Pettigrew," a cold, no doubt feminine, voice ordered. Peter hesitated, but soon did as he was told. "We've got a little trip to take, Pete."
It was Sirius' cousin, Bellatrix Lestrange. She wasn't alone, but that didn't matter. He was soon transported to a new location, where he was tortured and lectured.
That was the night Peter broke. That was the night Peter wished nothing more than to have the safety of his friends. It didn't matter though, he'd turned from them now.
That was the night Peter became the traitor.
**********
"Reminiscing, I see," Bellatrix's teasing caught him and pulled him from his reverie.
Peter paid her no heed. He'd learned early on not to talk back to a high- ranking Death Eater like her. He'd also learned not to retort to her even if she was at the bottom of the ladder. She wasn't one to joke.
That, she had proved with Neville Longbottom.
**********
"I simply do not understand," Neville's grandmother said in desperation for the umpteenth time while in Dumbledore's office. "What do they want with Neville?"
"That we do not know Dora. We are doing all we can to find him," the aged professor replied calmly. This immediately silenced the woman known as Dora Longbottom.
"That-that would mean that he's with-that-that woman who-who-who did that to his p-parents," she replied after a few moments of tense silence.
"Yes, Bellatrix Lestrange was the one seen to be his kidnapper."
"They'll do the same to him!" the formidable looking woman shrilled.
"Dora, I do not believe that Neville is in any terrible danger yet. He may well be suffering, I do not doubt it, but they may well be using him as bait, or simply as a toy."
"A toy?" Dora asked faintly. "He's a fifteen-year-old boy! He doesn't deserve it!"
"Neville is stronger than he may appear to you, my dear. Please have faith in your grandson."
**********
"What did Neville ever do to deserve this?" Hermione asked glumly. "That Lestrange woman! After all she's done, I'd love to strangle her myself!"
"Who wouldn't?" Harry asked incredulously. "She's a wretched Death Eater, glorying in disaster and decay. Then again, she lived through years in Azkaban. I wouldn't put anything past her."
"Sirius lived through Azkaban," Ron commented darkly.
"That's different, Ron," Hermione scoffed. "Sirius is innocent. Bellatrix Lestrange is just a wretched hag, who deserves worse than Azkaban."
"Don't say it until you've seen in," Harry muttered. Both Ron and Hermione looked at him oddly, so he decided to elaborate. "Even Sirius didn't give you a clear picture of how terrible that place is. Words can't describe how terrible it is."
"Can words try?" Hermione asked meekly.
"I suppose," Harry mumbled. "The prisoners.they're sickly.too sickly. Most of them sit in the dark, rocking back and forth, their food discarded. I should say the little food they had. They were skeletons.all of them. Voldemort is merciful to those he kills. Anything is better than that, even death."
Hermione and Ron continued to cast Harry odd looks, but decided not to pursue the subject because of the pained look evident on his face.
With this, they moved on to more cheerful topics, though with Neville's capture looming over their heads, no one, they realized, was safe.
**********
"It's time to act," Voldemort ordered. "I've already sent Wormtail back to Hogwarts. You, however, have a more open job."
The Death Eater kneeling in front of them nodded their head in assent.
"Start small. Play little 'pranks,' if you will. Make them think that it is simply a student's doing to begin with. We all know the boy has his enemies within the student body. Start small, and work your way up. Make him pay, make him suffer."
A/N: Another short chapter! That may be all for a week or so. Read and review! Even if you have before, all is appreciated. Email me at anna_dearest@hotmail.com to give comments, suggestions, ask questions, or anything you'd rather not put into a review. I want your input! -Anna Dearest
Chapter 11
Screams were heard from all over. Neville stood next to Dean and Seamus, admiring the different jokes inside Zonko's, but it took only seconds before the attack became obvious to them. His companions briefly looked at each other before taking off into the crowd, leaving Neville to gape at the fires erupting from the forest.
The boy finally came to his senses and took off running towards the edge of the village. He'd only run so far however, when a foot extended from behind the sidewall of a shop, right in Neville's path. He fell flat on his face and took a few precious seconds to gather his wits.
Looking up from his spot on the dirt, he met the uncompassionate eyes of a Death Eater, the rest of the face hidden behind a mask. A hand reached down for him and picked him up by his hair. Neville winced, but the Death Eater only laughed.
"Well, well, well.Little baby Nevvy's all grown up," a familiar taunting voice rang out amongst the villager's screams.
"You!" Neville growled, finally realizing that he was at the mercy of Bellatrix Lestrange once more.
Bellatrix laughed harshly. "Yes, of course it's me! Who else would take such pleasure in your company?"
Neville blindly reached for his wand in his robe pocket, only to find an empty space. A bucket of ice seemed to have settled in his stomach. He was completely defenseless against the one who'd tortured his parents into insanity.
"Looking for this Nevvy?" Bellatrix wiggled a wand between her fingers. "I was assuming that sooner or later you'd try something stupid. Just saving you the trouble." She pocketed the wand and grasped Neville by the hair once more, keeping her own wand trained on him. "At least I have a present for my Master. He has a new toy since he doesn't have Potter.yet."
With that, Bellatrix activated a Portkey and carried Neville away to his doom, still dragging him by his hair.
**********
This had to be the worst headache he'd ever had.
Neville's eyes flickered open groggily and he tried to sit up. He was sore all over and felt as though he'd just been in one of those Muggle cartoons where they drop an anvil on top of someone, only much worse.
His attempt at righting himself was feeble though, as he soon found himself lying on his tense back on a cold, hard floor. He had no idea where he was; only that he was in some kind of cell, in some kind of torture. He'd been under the Cruciatus Curse multiple times, receiving hex after hex from the dark robed figures.
But Voldemort himself had been the worst.
He'd laughed as Neville's feigned bravery as he lay in agonizing pain in the dark, taunting him and the memory of what his parents used to be. Then he'd tortured him. For how long, he didn't really know. He didn't care either. Now, he just wanted it to end.
"Harry," Neville croaked, barely a whisper, "How do you keep on doing this?"
"He does foolish things that nearly get him and his pathetic companions killed," Voldemort hissed venomously from outside the bars of the tiny cell. "He tries to fight, but sooner or later, all those who fight against me suffer the same fate. Death."
"No."
"Yes, boy. Death. Of course, everyone has a choice. There are those like your dear Harry Potter, the saviour, who choose to take it painfully, suffering more and more every time. Then there are those who I have a little mercy upon, killing them quickly and painlessly.
"You see, the Killing Curse is not such a terrible fate, Longbottom. It is quick, and quite painless. A simple wave or your wand and an incantation can put those suffering terribly out of their misery. Death is mercy for some. But then again, there is no worse fate than Death."
"You're wrong."
"What?" Voldemort's voice was an icy hiss now. He stepped into the small cell, wand trained unwaveringly on Neville. "What can possibly be worse, you foolish boy?"
"Losing someone.seeing others in pain.too much pain.too much."
"Too much you say? No.I think you could deal with a little more! Crucio!"
The pain was too much, and Neville too numb. He had not even the strength to cry out and scream. Just and soon as it had come, it was gone.
"You'll all end up the same," Voldemort hissed. "You, Potter, that Mudblood I know you associate with, those Weasleys, all of those members of that precious Defense Team at Hogwarts.all of you! And I'll grant no easy way out for any of you."
"Why.?"
"Why what, Longbottom?"
"Why do you.why do..why do you do this?"
"Because someone has to do what others won't. Because someone has to think what others don't. And someone has to see the truth. There is not good and evil, only power. There are no sides. Everyone eventually cowers at the feet of someone greater than themselves!
"Why?! Protection! Fear! Uselessness! That is all it ever winds down to. Certainly, during your luxurious stay here, you've managed to meet Wormtail?"
It was a rhetorical question, Neville knew, but yes, he'd met Wormtail, better known as Peter Pettigrew.
"He came to me, helped me achieve what I have. Why? Loyalty? Certainly not! It was fear. It was fear that drove him to serve me years ago, to betray the Potters, who he had counted as friends, to sell them to their own demise.and I must admit, mine.
"He himself was once a Gryffindor like you, idolized for courage. Yet, I can strike fear into any heart. Don't you agree?
"Did he return to me afterwards out of loyalty? Still, no. He returned because those he'd once counted as friends would kill him otherwise. Who knows? They may still kill him! Either way, all that is done, is done in fear. In times like these, there is no other way. More people do not necessarily have to die. Your parents did not have to end up the way they did.
"It's true. If they had submitted, they would have gone on to see you go to Hogwarts, graduate, start a family, live your own life. Now, they do not have that option. Why? They did not give in to their fear. As brave as their antics were, it was foolish. This is what it all winds down to."
With those last words, the Dark Lord swept out of the cold cell, leaving Neville laying on the ground. Neville can to one final conclusion. He'd find a way out, but he wouldn't sink so low as those before him.
**********
Peter cringed as he walked into the cramped, cold cell. Neville Longbottom, a young boy he'd last seen as a baby, lay in a crumpled heap on the floor. Memories flashed through Peter's mind of his own time in a cell like this and he began to tremble as he pushed the small food ration towards to weakened boy.
"You're getting very sentimental, Pettigrew," a harsh voice laughed behind him. Since his brief return from Hogwarts, Bellatrix had made a point to taunt and annoy him. "Doesn't this bring back memories?"
'It should,' Peter thought bitterly, 'you're the one who tortured me into that position.'
"You broke much faster than him though," Bellatrix commented dryly. "By this time, if I recall correctly, you already had the Dark Mark branded on your arm."
Indeed, it was true. Peter had been caught off his guard. Memories flooded Peter's mind, and a flashback came to him, unwelcome though it was.
**********
It had been a dull night at the Ministry, as if Peter's clerical duties were boring enough. He sat late into the night, shuffling through files and sorting them out, occasionally interrupted as his superiors swept from the office, leaving for home. Peter sighed inwardly. He still had stacks of papers to sort through before his night was done.
The stillness of the office was unnerving once all the others had left. The silence was too deep, and Peter felt the hair on the back of his neck prickle in anticipation and fear. He'd never been a particularly brave man, and given the current circumstances of the world, fear was completely acceptable.
A wand aimed pointedly at the back of his neck confirmed his fears and suspicions. He was going to die. Tonight would be his last on this earth.
"Stand up, Pettigrew," a cold, no doubt feminine, voice ordered. Peter hesitated, but soon did as he was told. "We've got a little trip to take, Pete."
It was Sirius' cousin, Bellatrix Lestrange. She wasn't alone, but that didn't matter. He was soon transported to a new location, where he was tortured and lectured.
That was the night Peter broke. That was the night Peter wished nothing more than to have the safety of his friends. It didn't matter though, he'd turned from them now.
That was the night Peter became the traitor.
**********
"Reminiscing, I see," Bellatrix's teasing caught him and pulled him from his reverie.
Peter paid her no heed. He'd learned early on not to talk back to a high- ranking Death Eater like her. He'd also learned not to retort to her even if she was at the bottom of the ladder. She wasn't one to joke.
That, she had proved with Neville Longbottom.
**********
"I simply do not understand," Neville's grandmother said in desperation for the umpteenth time while in Dumbledore's office. "What do they want with Neville?"
"That we do not know Dora. We are doing all we can to find him," the aged professor replied calmly. This immediately silenced the woman known as Dora Longbottom.
"That-that would mean that he's with-that-that woman who-who-who did that to his p-parents," she replied after a few moments of tense silence.
"Yes, Bellatrix Lestrange was the one seen to be his kidnapper."
"They'll do the same to him!" the formidable looking woman shrilled.
"Dora, I do not believe that Neville is in any terrible danger yet. He may well be suffering, I do not doubt it, but they may well be using him as bait, or simply as a toy."
"A toy?" Dora asked faintly. "He's a fifteen-year-old boy! He doesn't deserve it!"
"Neville is stronger than he may appear to you, my dear. Please have faith in your grandson."
**********
"What did Neville ever do to deserve this?" Hermione asked glumly. "That Lestrange woman! After all she's done, I'd love to strangle her myself!"
"Who wouldn't?" Harry asked incredulously. "She's a wretched Death Eater, glorying in disaster and decay. Then again, she lived through years in Azkaban. I wouldn't put anything past her."
"Sirius lived through Azkaban," Ron commented darkly.
"That's different, Ron," Hermione scoffed. "Sirius is innocent. Bellatrix Lestrange is just a wretched hag, who deserves worse than Azkaban."
"Don't say it until you've seen in," Harry muttered. Both Ron and Hermione looked at him oddly, so he decided to elaborate. "Even Sirius didn't give you a clear picture of how terrible that place is. Words can't describe how terrible it is."
"Can words try?" Hermione asked meekly.
"I suppose," Harry mumbled. "The prisoners.they're sickly.too sickly. Most of them sit in the dark, rocking back and forth, their food discarded. I should say the little food they had. They were skeletons.all of them. Voldemort is merciful to those he kills. Anything is better than that, even death."
Hermione and Ron continued to cast Harry odd looks, but decided not to pursue the subject because of the pained look evident on his face.
With this, they moved on to more cheerful topics, though with Neville's capture looming over their heads, no one, they realized, was safe.
**********
"It's time to act," Voldemort ordered. "I've already sent Wormtail back to Hogwarts. You, however, have a more open job."
The Death Eater kneeling in front of them nodded their head in assent.
"Start small. Play little 'pranks,' if you will. Make them think that it is simply a student's doing to begin with. We all know the boy has his enemies within the student body. Start small, and work your way up. Make him pay, make him suffer."
A/N: Another short chapter! That may be all for a week or so. Read and review! Even if you have before, all is appreciated. Email me at anna_dearest@hotmail.com to give comments, suggestions, ask questions, or anything you'd rather not put into a review. I want your input! -Anna Dearest
