A/N: I own Eilis, JKR owns the rest.
"Well, Cartwright? What's it going to be?"
Eilis swallowed, involuntarily shrinking back on her lab stool. Bellatrix, Rodolphus, and Rabastan all towered before her, awaiting her answer.
The choice seemed simple. No. Right? This was Voldemort they were talking about. Voldemort, who had killed dozens of muggles. Voldemort, whose Death Eaters had killed Dorcas's little sister. Voldemort, whom Patrick had gone missing trying to take down.
Patrick. That was it, though. If there was any kind of chance at all that she could help her brother—she had to take it, didn't she?
She set her jaw. "Look," she began. "I realize—believe me, I realize exactly what you are asking me to do. But—I don't have an answer. Not right now. I need more time," she finished, hoping the desperation she felt didn't come through in her voice.
Please, please, let them allow me to leave…let them give me time to decide.
Bella frowned, and looked at Rodolphus. He inclined his head ever so slightly and Eilis's heart stopped—would they give her the precious time she was asking?
"Alright, Cartwright. We know you aren't stupid. You have until this time tomorrow to decide. Be here to tell us your decision. I think you know that you have a great deal to think about."
Eilis closed her eyes, basking in a feeling of relief. She could go—but one day and night weren't very long to decide. She stood up to go, only to find her way still blocked by the Slytherins.
"Silencio," Rabastan cast at the walls.
"What?" Eilis was confused.
Rodolphus smirked. "Come on, Cartwright. Once again. You're a smart girl. We're giving you more time to decide. But first Bella's going to give you a little taste of what you—and more importantly, your precious brother, will feel if you don't do as we've asked."
Bella smiled sweetly at Eilis and lifted her wand. "Crucio," she said, the word rolling off her tongue lovingly.
All of a sudden Eilis was on the floor, writhing without any semblance of control over her body. This was pain the likes of which she had never experienced. It was as if a thousand hot knives were carving lines all over her body, over her limbs, her stomach, her chest, her face, her neck. She waited for the pain to end—for some release to this unyielding feeling of utter misery—but it didn't come. Her eyes rolled back into her head, and she couldn't even gain enough control over herself to be aware of her surroundings.
The knives kept slicing into her, only getting hotter and more painful.
Faces and images ran through her head but she couldn't make sense of them. She didn't know herself, her name, where she was or what she had done.
It was ages before Eilis even noticed that the curse had stopped, and that the pain she was feeling was only a dull throbbing over every inch of her body. She blinked and found her eyes already open. That's odd, she thought, too weary to feel surprised. More time passed, and Eilis stayed where she was, lying on her back under one of the lab tables in the empty Potions room.
It was awhile before she even started to consecutively think actual thoughts, beyond just feelings. What time is it? I should be getting back. She made no attempt to move. Not wanting to get up yet, Eilis turned to the one major decision before her. What would she say to the Slytherins the following night? She honestly didn't have any kind of clue.
Eventually Eilis began to sit up, biting back a groan at the intense soreness in every single part of her body. It was unlike anything she'd ever felt in her muscles before. She shakily crawled out from underneath the table and got slowly to her knees, and then her feet, clutching the edge of the smooth surface next to her. She took a breath and slowly stumbled to the door into the corridor, leaning her forehead against it as she gathered her strength, wiping all emotions from her face in case she encountered anyone on the long, long trip back up to Gryffindor tower.
She slid into the corridor, shutting the door to the Potions classroom behind her. There was no one in either direction, and she started slowly toward the stairs up to the Great Hall. Her footsteps echoed along the corridor, and as she walked Eilis stretched her hands in front of her, examining them and her arms, marveling at the unmarked skin, which, what seemed now like hours before, had felt like some kind of canvas over which Bella was conducting a symphony of torture. She was concentrating so much on her unblemished arms, and on what she would say to the Slytherins the following day, that she didn't notice a figure approaching down the corridor, walking towards her.
"Cartwright?" A voice called from down the hall and Eilis's heart stopped as she imagined that the Slytherins had returned before she realized that she recognized the voice. Like Sirius's, but not quite.
Regulus trotted to close the remaining space between them and stopped in front of her, taking in the sight of her—disheveled, with dark circles under her eyes, and a slightly faraway look.
"Eilis?" His voice came out as a whisper, as if he was afraid she would confirm that something had, indeed, happened to her.
"Hullo, Regulus." Her voice came out dully, and it cracked, her throat was so raw.
"Eilis…what happened?" Regulus gazed at her with such a look of concern in her eyes that Eilis felt herself crumble from within.
"I—I don't know—oh, Reg," she stammered as wordlessly he opened his arms and she fell against him. He held her close, one arm keeping her firmly against him and the other stroking her hair as he whispered in her ear. She wasn't listening, just leaning against him with her eyes closed, inhaling his crisp, clean scent—like Sirius's, but not quite. It was the same with everything about him. Almost everything.
She wasn't sure how long the two of them stood there, in the middle of the dungeon corridor. They were out in the open, but she shut the rest of the castle out as Regulus held her.
She didn't begin to have a clue what to do. Just leaving the safe circle of Regulus's arms seemed too much at the moment, let alone working for the Dark Lord to save her brother.
Let alone risking the Dark Lord's wrath by refusing his offer.
Eventually Regulus took a step back and looked into Eilis's eyes, still holding onto her upper arms, not breaking the contact between them as he seemed to sense that she needed to feel somebody beside her.
"Eilis," he whispered. "What happened? You have to tell me."
Eilis gazed back at Regulus, seeming to finally wake up from whatever trancelike state she had been in. "It was Bella, and the Lestranges. They...wanted to talk to me. They used the Cruciatus Curse."
Regulus sucked in a breath. "They tortured you?"
Eilis nodded. "Yes. But…I'm fine," she decided. "I wasn't. But I am. I will be. I'll be fine." She met Regulus's piercing gaze, her brain now moving quickly as it left the murky dredges it had been lurking in since she'd encountered the Slytherins. "Regulus, you cannot tell a soul about this."
He shook his head. "Eilis, that's—you're asking too much. They tortured you."
"Yes. And they can do it to you, too, or to me, again, if you tell anyone." He looked unconvinced, and Eilis took his hands from her arms and grasped them tightly. "Listen to me, Regulus. I know that you know what they're involved in. And I'm no fool—I know you're somehow mixed up in it too. And I think you knew what they wanted to talk to me about tonight." Regulus looked stricken, but she continued speaking. "Whatever you may have done, or have to do, to remain on their good side—do it. I'll forgive you." Her deep, dark blue eyes held his own light grey ones. So much like Sirius's. But not quite. "This isn't some game. I know what is going on, and I know the consequences of whatever might happen. I don't want to get you into trouble with them, Reg. I care about you." As she said the words, she knew they were true. Regulus had been a good friend—she wasn't surprised to consider him that. Not now. "Do whatever you need, please, Regulus."
She stepped away from him. "I need to return to my tower. I've been gone far too long." She glanced at her wristwatch. It was past eleven—she'd left dinner around nine.
Regulus looked at her as if she was some alien thing that he did not in the least understand. She didn't doubt that that was probably the truth. "I hope you know what you're doing," he said.
"I do."
She tried to pull off a weary half-smile but only managed a kind of grimace, and pushed past Regulus, who remained where he was, staring ahead of him.
Eilis slowly made her way up to Gryffindor Tower, wincing as she climbed Hogwarts' numerous staircases. Her body no longer hurt, but she was sore and both physically and emotionally drained. She desperately needed to sleep but foresaw only a long night lying in bed, deciding what to say to the Slytherins the following night. What she would be saying to Voldemort. What she might be doing to Patrick.
She entered through the portrait hole to find much of her house still up, including her friends and most of the Quidditch team. James was pacing by the side of the couch by the fireplace, and Remus and Sirius both had their arms crossed and were glaring at each other. Peter was clutching a blank sheet of parchment, and Lily was nervously scribbling down notes from her Transfiguration textbook. They all looked up when Eilis entered, and she saw several emotions play across all of their faces—James looked relieved, Lily looked apprehensive, Remus looked concerned, and Sirius looked angry.
"Eil!" James cried, striding over to her. "Where in the world have you been? Sirius said you'd only be gone fifteen minutes, but it's been two hours, and you knew we were supposed to have a pep talk with the team an hour ago. What were you doing?"
Eilis opened her mouth and shut it, glancing at all of her friends.
"I'm so sorry, James, I completely forgot about the meeting. I was just—"
"Are you alright?" Remus spoke up from one of the armchairs, looking at her with worry in his eyes. "You're pale as a ghost, Eil. What happened?"
"Nothing, I just—"
"She was with Regulus." Eilis looked over to find Sirius staring at her, an unfathomable expression on his face. "Right?" She couldn't read what was in his eyes as he held her gaze. How had he known…?
"Is that true? Eilis, are you alright?" Lily spoke up. She was looking at Eilis with shrewd eyes, trying to figure out where her friend had been.
"Yes, I'm fine, thank you Lily. Sirius is right," she said, glancing at him as she said it. He had practically told the lie for her. It was partially true, anyways. "I was with Regulus. I forgot that I'd told him we could make up a tutoring session from the other night when I was angry with him and left. We were just going over Potions, nothing special. I'm sorry, guys, I'm terribly tired and I need to sleep for the game tomorrow." None of them looked particularly pleased with her at the moment. "I'll see you all in the morning. Thank you for waiting for me." She exited the room as quickly as possible, not meeting Sirius's eyes, which followed her up the staircase to the girls' dormitories, or Lily's unconvinced expression. Eilis quickly stripped her robes and changed, getting into bed, hoping to avoid having to speak with her best friend by feigning sleep.
She lay there, silently, listening to the other girls breathing as they slept, mulling over everything that had just happened. She had been right, utterly right in thinking that the Lestranges and Bellatrix, and probably other Slytherins as well were in league with Voldemort, and that they were into the Dark Arts enough to be able to cast curses like the Cruciatus casually—had she really just had an Unforgivable used on her?
Eilis sighed to herself, and then stiffened, hearing Lily come into the room. She forced herself to relax her breathing, thankful for the curtains around her bed, and counted the seconds as she heard her friend pause, knowing Lily was trying to decide whether to speak to her or not. Then she heard Lily take a few steps and open a drawer, and relief swept over her as she silently thanked Merlin for Lily's ability to recognize that Eilis needed to be alone to think right now.
If she agreed to help Voldemort, in exchange for Patrick's safety, did that make her a Death Eater? No, it couldn't. But…a partial one? Maybe? How could she live with herself—how could she allow herself to aid someone so evil? She didn't even know what he wanted her to brew for him, but there was no doubt in her mind that it was something more sinister than she could even fathom.
But how could she just abandon Patrick, leave him at the mercy of such a man? If you could even call the Dark Lord a man…it was positively mind-blowing that such evil could be committed by a human being. And if she said no, wouldn't he be angry, and wouldn't he be even more cruel to Patrick than he might've been otherwise?
She thought of her brother. He'd always been there for her, always. Intelligent, kind, funny, and caring, he had always been her favorite person in the world. The perfect older brother. Patrick was one of those people who was just purely good—there was no other word for it, really. One of the most decent people alive. If there was even the slightest chance she could help him…how could she not take it?
Eilis tossed and turned, wholly unsure what to do. Eventually, after what seemed like hours turning from one choice to the next, Eilis threw off her covers and got out of bed, silently exiting the dormitory and padding down to the common room, intending to sit in one of the squashy armchairs by the fireplace and think there instead. If she wasn't going to get any sleep, she may as well have a crackling fire to look at.
She shouldn't have been surprised to find Sirius already there, but she was. She walked over and sat beside him on the couch, forgoing the armchairs. "Can't sleep either?"
He looked at her. "I can never sleep before a match."
"Still?"
He nodded. "Always."
She sat down, and an awkward ocean of silence stretched between them. Eilis stared resolutely at the fire, entirely too aware of her friend's presence by her side. A grandfather clock in the corner of the room ticked away the seconds, and Eilis felt Sirius fidgeting, a tension between the two of them seeming to mount with every tick of the clock.
The minutes passed until Eilis felt there was just too much silence between them, and the words tumbled from her mouth as she strove to fill the gap, "Sirius, what do—"
"Eilis, why—" Sirius spoke at the same exact moment, seeming to feel the same need as Eilis. "I'm sorry, go on," he said, with a half smile.
"Right—what do you suppose happens when we die?" She knew her voice sounded troubled, but was unsure how to remedy that.
Sirius was silent for a moment. "Honestly? I haven't the slightest idea. Muggles have all these ideas about theology and afterlife—d'you reckon any of it's true?"
"About God, you mean?" Eilis was impressed that someone with a family like Sirius's knew anything about muggle theology. "Merlin only knows. I…I don't like the idea that we just stop. That that's the end, you're gone, nothing remains. I mean—where does it go, whatever this is that makes me me? This—spirit, or soul, or whatever you want to call it—what happens to that?"
"I think it becomes a part of the people you leave behind," Sirius replied after thinking for a moment. "Like—first of all, you're never truly gone as long as someone remembers you—misses you. And that remembrance—I think that's the manifestation of the spirit once it leaves the body." He stopped again, looking thoughtful. "Sorry—did that even make sense?"
"Yes, of course. And I think I agree with you. I've never thought about it that way before—I've always just been made so uncomfortable by the idea that we just…end."
Sirius looked at her. "Not ready to die yet?" He grinned, and Eilis physically felt the mood between them lighten. "Shocking."
She smiled. "I know, isn't it?"
Eilis knew there was a lot that wasn't being said between her and Sirius regarding what had happened tonight—how he had known she was with Regulus, how he even felt about that, and whether he suspected she was lying at all, but she was too worn out to bring it up now. She relaxed her position, her shoulder pressed against his, and returned to gazing at the fire. Touching someone right now was incredibly comforting, and Sirius seemed to understand that she just wanted to sit and think, and it appeared he wanted to do the same. So the two of them sat there, the clock ticking the minutes away, the logs crackling in the fire, each consumed by his or her own thoughts, until eventually Eilis drifted off with her head on Sirius's shoulder, undecided to the point of exhaustion.
