I own nothing.except maybe Malene. Harry Potter is not mine, nor shall it
ever be.
Malene pulled her coat around herself tighter. The small muggle pub was ice cold, and reeked of cheap beer. But a story was a story, wasn't it? Most of her colleges would have thought she was crazy, coming out to the muggle world to get an interview. But for her, this just wasn't any interview. It was a first. The first interview with a Deatheater. She smoothed out her hair and scanned the pub. She saw him, sitting at a corner table in a black cloak. Malene checked to make sure she had her wand and walked slowly over to the table. The air was cloudy with smoke and she coughed as she sat down, trying not to look nervous, she pulled out a quill and parchment.
"Alright, lets get this over with." She said firmly, and instantly regretted it. That's not how you talk to a servant of Voldemort. Since she had talked with this man by owl, she had been stewing over how to talk to him in her mind. Malene shook her head and looked expectantly at him. He sighed and set his gloved hands on the table.
"What do you want to know?" He asked. His voice was high pitched but soft. Not what she expected.
"Why did you become a Death Eater?" She asked tensely. Of course, he had to have expected that question, she thought logically. The man sighed again and sat back in his chair, his hands still visible on the table.
"I wanted..respect. Power. To BE something. Isn't that why you are here? Why you agreed to this? The first person to interview a Death Eater for the Daily Prophet. Everyone wants to be someone...not just another face in the crowd. I wanted to be respected." He said. Malene couldn't see his face clearly under the hood, but she wrote down everything he said.
"Are you now? Or have you ever been? Respected, I mean." She asked without looking up from her notes.
"No. I'm not, actually. You'd think I would be, wouldn't you?" He mused, but she could hear the resentment in his voice. She decided to get straight to the point.
"What did you think when Sirius Black was declared innocent two months ago?"
He was silent for a long time. Malene thought he might not have heard the question, she was about to repeat it when he answered.
"I was angry. No, angry is not the word. I don't know what I was. I was relived a bit though. It was out in the open. My betrayal." He laughed, a squeaky sort of laugh. "I guess I finally got to be someone. The Traitor. But then, I've been that for awhile." He lapsed back into silence. A cheeky looking waitress came over to the table, wanting to take their orders. A few minuets later, she left. Malene continued her questions.
"Why though? I mean, why did you betray the Potters?" She asked. This question bugged a lot of people who had known him. No one quite knew why he did what he did. Oh, there were ideas of course. But none of them were really believable.
"I was a coward. I thought it would be an easy way to get what I wanted. I could spin you a lurid tale of lies, abuse, secret loves and that sort of thing, but none of that's true. They were my friends, but I was too far into Voldemort's circle to care about the people I loved anymore. We rarely care about those we once cared about, unless they are on our side. And even then...." He trailed off. Malene stared at him. Where was the vicious man she had heard stories about? The evil bastard who betrayed the Potters? This man was just cowardly and selfish, but didn't seem truly evil. She snapped her mouth shut and glanced down at her notes and looked back up at him. The watery blue eyes that were staring back at her from under the hood looked vaguely mournful.
"What's going to happen to you, once this story is printed?" She asked before she could stop herself. He laughed again.
"If I'm caught? I'll be killed. I'm not going back after tonight. They aren't pleased with me to begin with." He snorted and drummed his fingers on the table. It didn't sound like normal fingers tapping against the wood. Malene swallowed hard and glanced around the room. Muggles were starting to leave. She wondered how long she had been sitting here. She turned back to him.
"If you could do things over again, what would you change?" She asked. To her surprise, the answer was short and unexpected.
"Nothing."
Malene nodded and rolled up her parchment and placed them back into her bag. She toyed with the idea of saying bye, but decided not to. She stood up slowly and made her way towards the door of the pub. She turned around to look at him again, but he was already gone.
Malene had finished writing her article, but there was one small piece of parchment left in her purse. She looked around the room. She had no clue where it came from, but she picked it up out of the mess that was her purse, and read it.
"For each man kills the thing he loves;
By each, let this be heard.
Some do it with a bitter look,
Some with a flattering word;
The coward does it with a kiss;
The brave man-- with a sword."
She smiled and picked up her quill again, adding the poem into the article.
Malene pulled her coat around herself tighter. The small muggle pub was ice cold, and reeked of cheap beer. But a story was a story, wasn't it? Most of her colleges would have thought she was crazy, coming out to the muggle world to get an interview. But for her, this just wasn't any interview. It was a first. The first interview with a Deatheater. She smoothed out her hair and scanned the pub. She saw him, sitting at a corner table in a black cloak. Malene checked to make sure she had her wand and walked slowly over to the table. The air was cloudy with smoke and she coughed as she sat down, trying not to look nervous, she pulled out a quill and parchment.
"Alright, lets get this over with." She said firmly, and instantly regretted it. That's not how you talk to a servant of Voldemort. Since she had talked with this man by owl, she had been stewing over how to talk to him in her mind. Malene shook her head and looked expectantly at him. He sighed and set his gloved hands on the table.
"What do you want to know?" He asked. His voice was high pitched but soft. Not what she expected.
"Why did you become a Death Eater?" She asked tensely. Of course, he had to have expected that question, she thought logically. The man sighed again and sat back in his chair, his hands still visible on the table.
"I wanted..respect. Power. To BE something. Isn't that why you are here? Why you agreed to this? The first person to interview a Death Eater for the Daily Prophet. Everyone wants to be someone...not just another face in the crowd. I wanted to be respected." He said. Malene couldn't see his face clearly under the hood, but she wrote down everything he said.
"Are you now? Or have you ever been? Respected, I mean." She asked without looking up from her notes.
"No. I'm not, actually. You'd think I would be, wouldn't you?" He mused, but she could hear the resentment in his voice. She decided to get straight to the point.
"What did you think when Sirius Black was declared innocent two months ago?"
He was silent for a long time. Malene thought he might not have heard the question, she was about to repeat it when he answered.
"I was angry. No, angry is not the word. I don't know what I was. I was relived a bit though. It was out in the open. My betrayal." He laughed, a squeaky sort of laugh. "I guess I finally got to be someone. The Traitor. But then, I've been that for awhile." He lapsed back into silence. A cheeky looking waitress came over to the table, wanting to take their orders. A few minuets later, she left. Malene continued her questions.
"Why though? I mean, why did you betray the Potters?" She asked. This question bugged a lot of people who had known him. No one quite knew why he did what he did. Oh, there were ideas of course. But none of them were really believable.
"I was a coward. I thought it would be an easy way to get what I wanted. I could spin you a lurid tale of lies, abuse, secret loves and that sort of thing, but none of that's true. They were my friends, but I was too far into Voldemort's circle to care about the people I loved anymore. We rarely care about those we once cared about, unless they are on our side. And even then...." He trailed off. Malene stared at him. Where was the vicious man she had heard stories about? The evil bastard who betrayed the Potters? This man was just cowardly and selfish, but didn't seem truly evil. She snapped her mouth shut and glanced down at her notes and looked back up at him. The watery blue eyes that were staring back at her from under the hood looked vaguely mournful.
"What's going to happen to you, once this story is printed?" She asked before she could stop herself. He laughed again.
"If I'm caught? I'll be killed. I'm not going back after tonight. They aren't pleased with me to begin with." He snorted and drummed his fingers on the table. It didn't sound like normal fingers tapping against the wood. Malene swallowed hard and glanced around the room. Muggles were starting to leave. She wondered how long she had been sitting here. She turned back to him.
"If you could do things over again, what would you change?" She asked. To her surprise, the answer was short and unexpected.
"Nothing."
Malene nodded and rolled up her parchment and placed them back into her bag. She toyed with the idea of saying bye, but decided not to. She stood up slowly and made her way towards the door of the pub. She turned around to look at him again, but he was already gone.
Malene had finished writing her article, but there was one small piece of parchment left in her purse. She looked around the room. She had no clue where it came from, but she picked it up out of the mess that was her purse, and read it.
"For each man kills the thing he loves;
By each, let this be heard.
Some do it with a bitter look,
Some with a flattering word;
The coward does it with a kiss;
The brave man-- with a sword."
She smiled and picked up her quill again, adding the poem into the article.