Falling Down

*******

I'm exhausted, I can barely keep my eyes open. I've come close twice in the last 15minutes of falling off my broom due to lack of sleep. Being a Deatheater is a lot harder than I thought it was going to be. I finally land on the roof of my house and shimmy threw the window. I land with a small thud, I yawn as I do this thinking of nothing but the comfort of my bed, of the blankets pulled up tight around me, warm and comforting.

I barely have this thought as I'm tackled around the waist, someone has their knee in my chest another is holding my arms. The sleeve of my robe is lifted, "Charlie" I mutter, who else is in my room. It's dark and I can't see. I struggle to find my wand, they won't let go of my wrists.

I hear her gasp and drop to the floor, their all-throwing questions at me. Fred bashes me in the mouth. She's crying, I can feel the pain in my chest. She never cry's she strong. My sister is crying clinging to my mother.

The Deatheaters Mark shine bright on my pale skin still red with the fresh branding. "Oh God Ron, how could you? How could you?" she cries George and Ginny sit holding her.

"What the fuck is your problem, Ron?" Charlie pushes Fred away, letting go of me.

Ron scrambled to his feet, he's riffling threw his robes trying to find his wand. "How did you find out?"

"My friend West saw you last night at Reeds Land, where the Servilles were killed. Said the red hair stuck out he knew it was a Weasley. He said you had on a Deatheaters cloak, like the ones they wear."

Charlie looked at him, with disgust in his eyes.

"How could you do this Ron?"

"Don't you know how wrong it is?"

"Why Ron?"

His head was spinning, everyone was throwing questions at him. He hadn't expected them to discover this so soon.

Ron looked around the room for a way out, he was the caged animal now on display.

"Aren't you going to defend yourself, tell us it's not true, say something Ron?" Arthur tried to calm himself, silence fills the room "Are you a Deatheater?"

"Dad…I…"

"Are you?" Ron couldn't meet their eyes, he just had to get out of here. Where was his broom, his wand? He felt like he was suffocating.

Ron looked at them strongly, meeting each person's eyes "yes" he whispered.

"Your best friend is Harry Potter, how could you do this to him?"

Ron looked out the window. Molly lay gasping on the ground muttering to herself.

Arthur bent down to help his wife up. "Son you either denounce him or you leave this house."

We can get you out of this they tell him, Dumbledore's name is mentioned, St. Mungo's hospital, Hogwarts, the Ministry of Magic. Well find you help, they say. I shake my head.

"No" I tell them, I can't.

"Get out"

Shocked Ron looked up, he had never heard such fury in his fathers voice before "Dad, Mum, I…" George stepped forward "Have you killed anyone? … Have you done his bidding? …The forbidden curses?"

Ron held his head in his hands, they didn't understand. It's hard being a Deatheater. To kill, to sacrifice part of you each time you do it. Yet it was enpowering to hold someone's life in your hands. The faith of that person, you can shatter it with one word, or two.

"Oh Ron" Ginny clutched to her mother, crying. Ron looked up "I'am a Deatheater" he said it strongly but little more than a whisper.

They say things about my Lord, which makes me hate them. I've hardened this summer. I've grown up this summer. I've done things I never dreamt I would. I've committed crimes and sins I'll never forget. If I reach old age it will surely drive me insane. My sanity is drifting away, I can feel it already. It's for a good cause. I am a Lord Voldemort supporter, I am a Deatheater. I must believe.

"Get out" Arthur whispered pulling Molly to him. He pulled his wife from the room half carrying her.

Ginny followed them from his room as did Fred and George.

"You're bringing shame to the Weasley name. Look what He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Name has taken from you. Your family loves you. We'll help you get out of this."

"No, I'm a Deatheater now, and will remain so."

Ron pulled on his jacket and was tying his shoelaces. Charlie headed for the door. "How long before you betray us, Ron?"

Ron stood up and grabbed for his broom. "Don't give me a reason to, Charlie, just stay out of my way" he snarled. Ron threw some clothes and varies thing in his backpack. As he heads downstairs, Charlie grabs his arm slamming him into the wall.

"Don't threaten me Ron, I'm old wiser, I know more about these Deatheaters than you think."

"What could you possibly know, you've lived in this house your whole sheltered life. Then in a dragon colony, you don't know shit."

Ron broke form Charlie's grip sprinting down the rest of the steps.

His father was sitting at his desk writing a letter. "I'll get the rest of my stuff later. Did you take my wand?"

His father held up the busted pieces. He had snapped his wand. Ron stood in astonishment, they had snapped his wand. Unbelievable. He grabbed his broom and left by the back door.

********

"Snape"

"Snape"

Severus Snape looked up he was hot, sweat was running down his face. These hooded cloaks were smothering him. He pushed his hair out of his eyes setting the hood further back on his head, so he could see better but his face was still shielded from view.

"Snape" Lord Voldemort stood "Snape."

"Yes my Lord, I'm sorry my Lord" he bowed slightly.

"I assume you wandering mind is on Harry Potter".

"Yes my Lord, of course" Snape bowed his head again.

Lucius Malfoy had turned to face him, though he couldn't see his eyes he knew the look that Malfoy was giving him.

Why was he so distracted lately? He knew why, Potter. School would be starting tomorrow. He knew the battle would be soon, between Potter and Voldemort, the moment of truth.

A short time later the Deatheaters gathering adjourned. Most dissaprated straight away. Snape stood he hastily removed the hood and stepped out of the cape.

Lucius watched with curiosity, walked past Snape around him till he was standing behind him. Pretending to fidget with his own cloak.

"You look like shit Snape"

Snape busied himself folding the cloak and straightening his T-shirt.

"I've been working on something, Luc."

Lucius accepted this, the Deatheaters individual projects were there own business. Lucius said nothing and headed toward the woods to disapparate.

Voldemort came forward from the shadows. Snape froze his eyes locking with the blood black evil of Voldemorts. Snape finally moved "My … my Lord, is there anything I can do for you".

Voldemort broke into a lopsided grin and whispered "Bring me Harry Potter, Severus".

"I'm working on it my Lord" he stood tall.

"Trying your hardest are you?" Voldemort said with a slight humor in his voice. Voldemort circled his prey, it was almost like scolding a small child. His hands clasped behind his back holding his wand.

"Of course my Lord, of course" Snape stepped back (oh god please don't let him question my loyalty).

Voldemort walked around to face Snape. He held his wand up so that Snape could see it. So he knew what would be happening to him. It was the anticipation that was the worst. You knew the curse was coming you had to take, you had to honor thy Lord.

"Crucio".

Snape fell to his knees gasping for air and just as quickly the pain passed.

Voldemort leaned in and whispered "I'm not questioning your loyalty, just reminding you where it lies." The Dark Lord bowed and apparated away.

Draco Malfoy watched with interest as Professor Snape got to his knees. He stepped forward, Snape hung his head. "Go away Draco".

Draco smirked, "Professor? I … need to talk to you".

********

Lucius watched his son approach Snape. Watched their whispers, the nods and the final handshake. Lucius growled an inner growl so deep with in him. His son the disappointment. Where did he go wrong with Draco? How is it the Weasley boy had turned out to be a better Deatheater than his own son? The Boy fought with passion and a drive that only youth had. A desire to prove himself, to show his skill, talent.

His own son… well, if he did show up at a Deatheater meeting had little to say. No enthusiasm to prove himself. Had no desire, no thought to his loyalty, to the disgrace he was causing the Malfoy name. Lucius shook his head and apparated back to the manor.