Chapter 21

Down in the dining room, quiet conversation was being made between the two brothers. Their plates of steamed vegetables and grilled chicken lay all but forgotten in front of them, barely picked over before voicing concerns had taken importance over satisfying hunger.
Charlie couldn't ignore the set plate with an empty chair behind it and his concern only grew when George relayed Fred's excuse for not joining them. One of the first things they needed to work on was helping Fred work past the starvation technique their father had drilled into him but they couldn't do that if he didn't eat at all. Charlie had a sneaking suspicion Fred was avoiding eating purposefully, seeing as his excuse about the time was flimsy at best. He said as much to George, which only made the younger's concern more palpable on his features.

"Surely you can't think he's doing this on purpose?" George asked, staring at his brother incredulously. Fred wouldn't starve himself. It wasn't even in his conditioning to starve himself completely.

"He could be, George. It's a very real possibility that he could think he doesn't deserve any food at all. Dad called you worthless when he thought you were Fred, didn't he? How are we to know Fred doesn't think he's not worth it to 'waste' food on?" Charlie countered.

The younger twin knew very well that Charlie had a point, yet George still wanted to cling to the possibility Fred, at the very least, believed he was worth the food specifically made for him.

"Well.." he trailed off, unable to deny what his father had done to him the night he was "Fred". "Well, what do we do?"

"The first thing we need to do is get him to admit that's what this is. We can't help him if he's not willing to even tell us what he's doing." Charlie decided. The muggles had a saying about how the first step of recovery is acceptance, he thought.

"Where do we go from there?" George asked, already doubting his twin would directly say to either of them that he was starving himself. He knew he'd sooner lie than admit to something that would hurt them.

"We try to convince him he's worth having meals at least. Before we try to confront him about this, we need to watch him for a few days to see if he keeps skipping meals." Charlie said. They had to make sure before they went to their brother with accusations of intentional starvation. They couldn't lose his trust. Not now when he needed them.

George nodded and stood, abandoning the meal in favor of going upstairs to check on the brother in question. When he walked in, Fred was staring blankly up to the ceiling and took no notice as he moved around him to get to his own bed on the other side of the room. He watched him, worry making its home in his chest, for about an hour and a half until Fred's eyes fell shut and his breathing evened out. George slipped out of bed, making only as much noise as he dared, past his sleeping twin, and downstairs where Charlie was cleaning up the kitchen.

"I think we've got a problem." He stated gravely, voice barely a whisper.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Draco Malfoy had many many things he could begrudge his father for, but not soundproofing the dungeons, especially when Voldemort stayed with them, was currently at the top of his list. He hated the screaming coming through the floor to the living room and the way it echoed around the high ceilings of the manor, leaving no corner silent. Every room he and his father frequented were soundproofed for screaming, granted it was to keep his screaming in and his mother's suspicion out, but for some ungodly reason the literal torture chambers known as their dungeon was not.

His parents and sister were sitting, calmly sipping tea in the parlor as if they couldn't hear the agony coming from below them. Maybe it just didn't bother them or they didn't mind the sounds of misery? Chancing a glance at his father, Draco saw Lucius with a small, pleased smirk on his lips, replacing his usual scowl.
Of course the bastard took pleasure in hearing those poor people scream as the Dark Lord tortured them, of fucking course he did, Draco thought.

Draco stared ahead at the candle sitting on the mantle, trying to ignore the screams as his mother and sister were, but instantly snapped to attention at the sound of his father's voice.

"Draco, go down to the dungeons and see how you can be of service to the Dark Lord," Lucius said calmly, sitting his teacup back on the saucer. Draco's eyes widened a fraction, his pale skin losing what color it had gained from sitting in front of the lit fireplace, but he stood immediately to do what he was told. It wouldn't do to displease his father, not now when he was in a considerably good mood.

As he walked down the long corridor that led down into the dungeons, he thought, rather bitterly, about how his father's mood always improved drastically when Alicia was home. It was no secret Lucius favored her over him, as he was reminded about how he should be more like her every single time he fucked up, but he didn't like seeing the contrast in his father's behavior around her compared to around him. Just this morning, long before Alicia had arrived, Lucius had been throwing things in his study and screaming bloody murder at him because he'd had a quiet conversation with one of the house elves about a book he'd just finished reading. That was his crime, being civil to one of their "filthy servants" as Lucius referred to them. He'd only been punched a few times as punishment, a black eye and a bloody nose were easily concealed, a fact for which he was grateful. He would bet his entire fortune, if he was even in his father's will that was, Lucius had never lain an ill intended hand on Alicia.

Draco's thoughts were interrupted as he neared the entrance to the dungeons and the volume of the screaming grew to be almost unbearable. Steeling himself for what lay on the other side, Draco pushed the door open and tried not to flinch as he walked to the Dark Lord's unoccupied side. He stopped short, just behind His throne where the shadows covered him from the two Dark Wizards, as he recognized who the latest victims were. His cousins on his mom's side, Raven and Brooke Black, were writhing on the stones twenty feet in front of him.

These were the poor people his sister had brought in? Their cousins? His mother was allowing her sister to partake in the torturing of their blood relatives? Draco was appalled. His aunt Bellatrix being cruel, he knew and could understand perfectly. But his mother? She wasn't even slightly unkind. She was distant, sure, but who wasn't when they've spent years around Lucius. He'd never believed she would consent to letting this take place in her house, let alone when the screams would drift right up where she could hear them.

Brooke and Raven were estranged family members, given they were the children of the original traitor to the Black family name, but they had the same blood as his mother had coursing through their veins and that counted for a lot in their world. Or it had, when it had come to estranged second cousins of his fathers, when they'd found themselves in a ring of death eaters and Lucius had claimed them as family to spare their lives. But then again, nothing that applied to the Malfoy side ever applied to the Black side, Draco knew.

Draco watched, transfixed with horror, as green light filled the room following a shouted, "Avada Kedavra!" from his aunt, and with one final blood curdling scream, Raven Black slumped on the ground, all movement ceasing. Holding back hot tears, Draco ran silently back to the door, ears still ringing with Brooke's screams.

Bellatrix leaned back on her chair and laid her wand across her lap, grinning madly as Voldemort continued the cruciatus curse on the remaining girl. Nagini was already advancing on the body of the younger one and, she expected, would make short work of it. Beside her, a pleased smile was on the Dark Lord's face as he flicked his wand back and forth, dangling the redhead in the air and dragging her around, more for his own amusement than any harm it could cause.

This went on for a good ten minutes, during which Bellatrix waited impatiently, until Voldemort finally dropped the girl back on solid ground, though none too gently. When nothing happened, Bellatrix felt she could speak.

"My Lord," she started and waited until he turned away from his handiwork to face her, "May I have a turn with this one? You didn't even let me touch the last one before I killed her on your command." She asked, tacking on the last bit more to show him he had been in control than anything else. He seemed to consider it before smiling wanly and gesturing at the prone body in front of them.
Her eyes lit up as she picked up her wand and hopped down from her place of honor, stalking towards her prey like a cougar, almost as agile and twice as bloodthirsty.

Brooke had stopped screaming since the curse had been stopped and she lay panting, desperately trying to draw in breath as her body registered the waves of pain subsiding. She hadn't seen the killing curse hit her sister and she had yet to discover her body as her eyes remained squeezed shut in anticipation of another shot of the cruciatus curse. She heard the click of Bellatrix's heels as she approached but she refused to open her eyes, refused to look at the monster she was ashamed to be related to. She only opened them when she felt the tip of a wand poking into her cheek as her head was forcefully turned towards its owner.

Bellatrix was crouched beside her, leaning back on her high heeled boots, hideous toothy smile fixed in place as her eyes roamed over her features. Bellatrix moved her wand up and ran it through fiery hair, moving a stray strand back behind her ear and out of her face, as Brooke fought the urge to flinch back.

"Such a pretty girl," Bellatrix spoke, moving the wand to just under her chin, "You've definitely got the Black genes. Too bad you've also got your father's traitorous streak as well as his idiocy." She said, voice going from soft to menacing as she mentioned Sirius. Brooke grit her teeth to keep from jumping to his defense. If she so much as breathed wrong, Bellatrix could kill her without a second's hesitation. Deciding quickly, she put on her best Pleased smile and opened her mouth.

"My Lady, forgive me my father's traits for dominating my personality at times. It is truly the worst part of me," She began, watching as Bellatrix smiled at the formal address, and tried not to let her disgust seep into her sickly sweet tone as she spoke her next words. "My sister and I ran into the forest hoping to encounter you, yourself, or someone almost as equally powerful, so we could pledge our support to the Dark Lord."