"C'est le seul qui ne ma paraisse pas ridicule. C'est peut-être parce qu'il s'occupe d'autre chose que de soi-même." ~Le Petit Prince

It was summer. The sun shone bright in the sky. Isabel Lapeur was walking to a movie theatre somewhere in London. She really enjoyed the movies and the themes they portrayed. Today, though she was unsure in her decision, she was going to see a scary movie. Isabel was easily frightened, but she enjoyed the rush of adrenaline that the scary movies brought you. She bought her ticket and a small drink and made her way to her seat.

            She sat next to a figure dressed all in black and many times knocked the person's drink when she screamed and raised her hands to her face. The movie ended with the bad guy still alive but half the cast dead. An overall satisfying movie, according to her. Isabel was walking by a tiny shop that appeared to have no name, when a group of figures grabbed her. She struggled but their spells had frozen her resistance and they were apparating her somewhere.

            "Sit." One croaked ad she was forced into a chair. Isabel looked around, an though she was unable to voluntarily move her head, she took in her surroundings to be someone's basement. It was cold, and gray, and made out of thick stone that one associates with old mansions. There were 4 Death Eaters surrounding her.

            "You are the daughter of Alfred Lapeur, correct?" Isabel nodded, unwilling to voice the answer and thus admit defeat to the curse. "Where is he holding Farbon?" Isabel locked her mouth. Tell him…Tell him… whispered an unfamiliar but comforting voice. Isabel wanted to and almost did before she broke through the comforting haze the spell put over her thoughts. She refused to be taken under that easily.

            "Tell me where!" the man stepped forward into the light. They had all taken off their masks. This one had long white-blond hair. His two goonies stood behind him and another vaguely familiar figure stood in the corner observing but not participating.

            "You'd…have…better luck…..asking the...idiots…behind...you." Isabel ground out.

            "Crabbe, Goyle. Back off." He grunted. "Perhaps this will convince you. CRUCIO!" He shouted raising his wand. The pain washed over her. Her eyes rolled back in her head as her body spasmed. Her pained screams echoed off the walls. Then suddenly the pain was gone.  "Where is he?" He asked his face close to hers. The tears flowed down Isabel's face. Sobs of pain wracked her body. She glared into his eyes. "I don't know." The man from the corner walked towards the others.

            "It is obvious that the child doesn't know the location of Farbon." He said. He was the figure who had sat next to her in the theatre. The other one started to think. "Lord Voldemort will not be pleased if you kill someone who didn't help the cause. Your time would be better spent looking for another link."

            "Fine. Snape, you take her and…do something with her." The man said. He walked out and Crabbe and Goyle followed him. As soon as they were out of the room, Isabel's face and body crumpled. The tears came more freely and choking sounds accompanied every breath. Snape made his way over to her and put his arm around her shoulder. He apparated them both away from the basement.

Translation of French at the beginning: "He is the only one of them all who doesn't seem to me ridiculous. Perhaps it is because he is thinking of something else besides himself." The Petit Prince er…The Little Prince.