A/N: No flames please. Review.
Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Rowling except Liz. And I Cry belongs to Westlife. The pathetic plot is mine.
*Elizabeth's POV *~
Trapped. Like an animal. But that's what I am, right? Nothing but an animal. Ever since the Dark Mark was burnt on my arm. Ever since I said yes. Trapped. And I'm not talking about the locked, bolted, and padlocked door. Yet.
Trapped. Unable to get out. No matter how hard I scream. No one hears me. And those who can don't care. Trapped. And I'm not talking about the window jammed shut with bars across it.
Trapped. Within myself.
The door creaked open. I didn't bother to look up. A piece of stale bread was stuffed into my outstretched hands and a glass of water was slammed onto the coffee table. The door slammed shut and footsteps faded away.
I felt sick. I needed to scream. At Pettigrew. At Voldemort. Anyone. Anyone who would listen. There was this sensation in my stomach that rose up to my chest. I could hardly breathe. I was so ANGRY!
I threw the bread onto the decaying floor. I watched in fascination as the bread broke into pieces and scattered all over the floor.
I gasped for breath as I swung my hands madly and knocked over the glass of water. The glass fell off the table and shattered into pieces. I kicked at a piece that came near me. It hit the wall and crashed into tiny pieces with a tinkle.
Hot tears sprang to my eyes. Sweat trickled down my forehead. I just sat there and let them flow, hoping they could take with them some of my pathetic misery as they dropped innocently to the floor.
Hair was sticking to my face. In my eyes. On my lips. Across my cheeks and forehead. Hanging limply. I was so frustrated I couldn't even move my hands to swipe at it. I was panting. Fresh tears flooded my eyes. And it wasn't solely because of the hair.
The door creaked open once again. I didn't blink. The door clicked shut with a quiet soothing click. I inhaled sharply and turned my head slowly. Lord Voldemort stood at the door, staring at me, amused.
"What's the matter?" he asked, in a sympathetic voice. Fake.
"Nothing. Just…dust," I answered, swiping at the tears.
"Indeed," he said, his eyes piercing me, willing me to give me an explanation. But I clamped my mouth shut and he didn't say anything.
"My dear Frunnels, I just want you to be happy. You are so important to us. So very important," he said. He stared dreamily out the window. "Imagine. The whole world. Ours."
I bit my lip. Why was it suddenly so…cold?
Voldemort turned in one swift motion and narrowed his already slit-like eyes at me. I stared back, unmoving.
"What is that…thing doing out there?" he hissed. I stared past him. An owl was hovering outside my window, trying desperately to get in. A letter!
"I-I-I don't know, my Lord," I stammered. I wanted to know what was in that letter. I wanted to know. The desire burned inside me. Who? What?
Voldemort turned back and drew out his wand. With one swift flick, he made the glass disappear and the owl flew into my room. It dropped the letter onto my lap and flew out again. Or at least it tried to. Voldemort made the glass reappear and try as hard as it could, it could not get out. Voldemort laughed. It sent shivers down my spine.
He glanced at the letter before gliding out of the room. The poor owl, tired of trying, perched on one of the bars across the window. I smiled reassuringly at it.
The letter was still on my lap, untouched. Somehow, I was afraid of what I would find in it. More bad news? I remembered the last owl I received…fourteen years ago. I remembered the tears that had flowed as I read about Sirius being imprisoned in Azkaban. I remembered the sleepless nights that had followed. I remembered the dizziness, confusion of it all. I remembered Sirius' face as the Ministry wizards hauled him away. I remembered his hoarse laugh, his cry of innocence. Lies. All lies. He lied to me. To everyone. To James and Lily.
Somehow, I felt nothing. Just a few days ago, thinking about my long-lost friends would make me cry like there was no tomorrow. Now, I felt nothing but coldness inside me. Emptiness. I had no more tears left in me. No more feelings. Emotions. I was a Death Eater.
I glanced down at the letter again. It just laid there innocently. I didn't feel like opening it anymore. Didn't feel like reading anything. Didn't feel like doing anything. Just wanted to sit there all day like a statue.
The owl hooted loudly and impatiently. It tapped the window. And stared at me. I sighed and got up. The letter slid to the floor. I went over to the window. And smashed it.
It was like clockwork. My fist collided with the glass and it shattered. I didn't feel anything. No pain. Nothing. I looked at my fist. It was smeared with fresh pouring blood. I blinked. And looked away. The owl was gone, glad to be free. How I wish I could be like it. No worries except to get the letters to the receiver.
I glanced back at the letter on the floor. A flicking motion with my wrist was all it took to summon the letter into my hand. I read the scrawl on the envelope again. Elizabeth Frunnels was all it said in that messy scribble.
I grunted. And tore up the letter. Tore it into half, and half again. Kept on tearing it. Until the pieces were no bigger than my thumb. I grasped the pieces in my bloody fist. Held it out of the window.
Slowly, I opened my palm. I stared. The pieces fluttered away, blown by the wind. I watched them until they were all gone with the wind.
I cry silently
I cry inside of me
I cry hopelessly
Coz I know I'll never breathe your love again
~I Cry, Westlife~
Liz,
I know you're still alive. I don't care what everyone says. I know you're still out there. I just want you to know that I'm free now and I really miss you.
I know you blame me for Lily and James' death but believe me, it's not my fault. It was Pettigrew. We switched Secret-Keeper but thought it would be safer if we kept it a secret. Pettigrew betrayed them. Not me. I'd die before betraying them. Trust me. Please.
Tonight, there's a meeting at Hogwarts. We are going to fight Lord Voldemort. And we're going to win. We need you. No one believes that you're alive but I know you are. I can feel it. Please come. I need to see you. I miss you so very, very, very much. Please. Love ya.
Padfoot.
Voldemort snickered cruelly watching Elizabeth tear up the letter without reading it. She didn't know what was in it but he sure did. And he was going to make sure that one of his Death Eaters attend the meeting. Too bad he couldn't just send Liz. She would be welcomed. Everyone would pour everything out to her. No one would suspect her.
But she was too precious to him to risk something like that. Fourteen years he had waited for her to join his side. It was too early to trust her and to let her go like that. She might rejoin Dumbledore's side. Too early. But he would be patient. One day, she would rise and conquer the world. And then, he'd just dispose of her. Someday. After all, you will never regret once you join the Dark Side.
"You seriously think she's going to come."
Sirius eyed Harry Potter wearily. "She will."
"Padfoot, you're hoping too much. She's dead, everyone knows that," Remus Lupin's voice came from the doorway.
"She's not," Sirius said, his eyes following Remus as he made his way into the room.
"She is. Killed herself after you were imprisoned," Remus shrugged, looking at the ground.
"Where's the proof? Where's her grave?" Sirius said, his voice quivering with emotion.
Remus shrugged again. "She was never seen or heard of again after the day you were captured."
"She's alive. You'll see," Sirius stared out the window.
Remus and Harry looked at each other, both knowing that Sirius was wrong, that Liz was dead.
"You don't believe me," Sirius said, turning his head to look at them.
Remus and Harry looked at the ground. Sirius sighed and looked back out of the window. He watched the snowflakes fall gently to the ground. He just stood there and watched. Minutes passed. Remus and Harry got up and went outside. Hours passed. His eyes didn't leave the window.
"Sirius, we're starting now. Come on," Harry's voice shattered the silence. Sirius glanced at him, his eyes tired and filled with disappointment. Sirius swallowed and opened his mouth to speak but closed it again.
"Come on," Harry coaxed. He went out and waited for Sirius to follow. A moment later, Sirius shuffled out of the room and followed Harry in silence. They went to the Great Hall.
It was quite cheery in there. Everyone was talking, laughing and patting each other on the back. Sirius eyed them nervously. And everyone stared back. The Hall went silent as Sirius passed the people, making his way to Dumbledore.
People started whispering to each other and eyed him cautiously.
"My fellow friends, Sirius Black is innocent of everything that he has been charged with. Peter Pettigrew was responsible for Lily and James Potter's death and he is very much alive indeed at the side of the Dark Lord. Sirius is innocent! And he is to be treated as a friend, not an enemy," Dumbledore announced calmly. People started to relax, trusting Dumbledore's judgement.
Sirius smiled. True freedom at last. Dumbledore stood up and began his speech.
"Alright friends. We are all gathered here tonight for an important issue that is not to be taken lightly. As we have all heard, Lord Voldemort – a few people flinched – has returned from the dead and is as dangerous as ever, perhaps even more dangerous than before. We have to stop him before his influence spreads and more people join his side.
He has already reunited his Death-Eaters and is going to the giants and the Dementors next. We have to stop him before he earns the support of his deadliest allies. Diplomats have been sent to the giants, to earn their trust, and the Dementors need getting rid of.
Unfortunately, Cornelius Fudge does not take this affair seriously and refuses to dispose of the Dementors. We have to take the matter into our own hands. And we will in time.
Now, our more important job is to protect Voldemort's target – Harry Potter."
Everyone stared at Harry flanked by Hermione and Ron. Some smiled reassuringly. Harry nodded nervously back. He knew he was in mortal danger. It would be a matter of time before Voldemort attacked him.
In the corner of the hall, hidden in the shadows, unseen by anyone, a tiny scrawny rat sat and listened to Dumbledore's every word. And he stayed there until the meeting was over, before scampering off through the sewers and back to his master.
And there, he told of everything that he had heard, all of Dumbledore and his supporters' plans. Everything.
"Good," the Dark Lord hissed.
"What next, my Lord?" Pettigrew asked.
"We use our secret weapon," Voldemort answered, his eyes narrowing.
Pettigrew grinned nervously.
"Soon. Harry Potter will be mine, and he will pay for challenging the Dark Lord. He will pay," Voldemort hissed.
"Y-Y-Yes, my Lord," Pettigrew stammered.
"Tomorrow!" Voldemort turned his piercing eyes to Pettigrew. "The Death Eaters will meet."
Pettigrew swallowed nervously and nodded.
"We will introduce the newest member of our little club. And we'll make her feel at home," Voldemort smirked.
"Y-Y-Yes…" Pettigrew began but was cut off.
"As soon as she's ready, we'll send her. She will capture Harry Potter and she will kill him. She will complete the task that I have started. Revenge is sweet," Voldemort smirked, his eyes glowing, flickering in the dark.
A/N: Review PLEASE! =)
