Potter47 Part Two
Crossing the Rubicon "The object of persecution is persecution.
The object of torture is torture. The object of power is power."
George Orwell Chapter Seventeen
Help!
With the sound of a Portkey—or, more likely the sound of the people falling on their bottoms after taking a Portkey—Snape, Hermione, Ronald and Luna arrived in a very dark room, which was not entirely shocking to them. After all, their eyes were still used to the darkness, and Luna even felt it a bit comforted by it.
"I told you it made a sound," said Hermione, though Luna didn't have the faintest idea who she was talking to, or what about. "And a cougar technically is a mountain lion," she added quietly.
"Not the time," muttered Snape, rubbing his arm as he stood up. Luna noticed that he no longer held the wand. She wondered what had happened to it.
"Where are we?" said Ronald.
"How should I know?" said Hermione, sounding irritated.
A sudden brightness impeded upon their eyes, causing them to throw their arms over their faces.
"What is that, a spotlight?" said Hermione, bewildered, as she tried removing her arms, only to hurriedly put them back.
"Luna!"
Luna, on reflex, turned towards the origin of the exclamation, with no regard whatsoever for her sight (or lack thereof). Her eyes had soon adjusted to the glare, and she saw that what was containing them in this formerly-dark room was a great cage—no. The cage was a room within a room, and on three sides of it there were at least twenty more feet of outer-room, though the walls were still clothed in darkness.
On the fourth side there was another cage, congruent to the one the four were in now. It was only a few feet away, and the speaker was against the side of the cage, her face pressed against the bars.
"Mum!" exclaimed Luna, rushing to the bars of her cage as well. "You're OK!"
"A little ground up," said Cynthia Lovegood, smiling slightly. "I see you and Ronald are all right." She was looking past Luna. "But who are those two?"
"I'll explain later," said Luna, indescribably relieved to see her mother alive and awake and, for all intents and purposes, OK. "But where's Daddy?"
"Oh," said Cynthia, frowning a little. "Well, he's a little more ground up..." She peered over her shoulder, a concerned look on her face. "He—You-Know-Who cursed him. I think he's in some sort of shock, and these GUARDS WON'T DO A DAMN THING FOR HIM!"
The last words were shouted over Luna's shoulder, and the girl looked round and now saw that there was a large closed door with two black-robed, masked guards standing on either side of it. They were chatting with each other and gave no indication that they heard Cynthia's cry.
Luna looked back at her mother, and saw behind her that London Lovegood lay on the cold floor, eyes open, staring blankly at some point in the distance. Luna had never seen her father look like that—anything near like that. He had always been...alive. That was a good word for it. Very, very alive.
"Is that your father?" asked Hermione, walking up to the bars on Luna's right and peering at London. "He looks more or less catatonic."
"Oh, that's comforting," muttered Cynthia, glaring at Hermione. "Who are you, anyway?"
"Hermione Granger," said Hermione. "You must be Mrs Lovegood."
"I prefer Cynthia, but yes," said Cynthia, evidently not liking Hermione very much. "Are you two friends?"
"In a way," said Luna.
"It's all very complicated," said Hermione. "Now what exactly happened to your husband?"
Cynthia's brow furrowed. "What's it to you? You can't do anything to help him."
"I do suggest we all get along," said Snape, in such a way that both Ronald and Hermione came very near to snorting out-loud. Cynthia and Luna didn't find it very humorous, however.
"And who are you?" Cynthia said, brows furrowing as she looked at Snape. "I daresay you're a bit too old to be a friend of Luna's even in a way."
"I am Severus Snape," said Snape. "the Potions Master at—" He stopped, thinking. "I was the Potions Master at Hogwarts School."
"Was?" said Cynthia. "What, did they sack you for being too chummy with your students? I mean, what are you doing here with them, anyway?"
"Chummy?" snorted Ronald. "Oh, he's not too chummy. He's not chummy at all."
"I would very much prefer not to be spending the summer holidays with three of my students," said Snape defensively. "Particularly these three students..."
"So you're still a professor then?" said Cynthia. Luna couldn't see why her mother was being so quizzical all of a sudden. It was as if she was defending herself, defending Luna too. It was odd.
"I'm not sure at the moment," said Snape. "And as I don't feel any particular need to narrate my entire life story to you, do you think I may try to get us out of here?"
"Oh, there's no way out of here," said Cynthia, shaking her head. "I've looked. Not a single weak bar, nor enough space for even Luna to squeeze through. We're just plain stuck."
"That's not very optimistic," said Hermione reproachfully. "Luna always gave off a sort of...sanguine vibe. 'Sanguine' means 'optimistic'," she clarified, as Ronald looked like he didn't have a clue as to what she was talking about.
"Yes, well I've always been the pessimist in the family," said Cynthia.
"Will you all just be quiet?" said Snape. "I'm trying to test these bars for any backfire curses."
And so he was. Luna looked over and saw that he had taken the wand out again, and was now tapping the bars lightly.
"How do you still have that?" Hermione asked bewilderedly. "I thought Voldemort took it."
"Don't say the—" began Snape, but to no avail.
"I'll take that," said a familiar, high-pitched voice. The wand flew out of Snape's hand, and he glared at Hermione, who mouthed "sorry" silently.
"I do apologise for the wait," Voldemort drawled, having appeared suddenly just between Cynthia and Luna, between the cages. Voldemort faced Luna and company, and smirked. "I had an unavoidable detainment."
"You evil bastard!" shouted Cynthia suddenly, surprising them all by reaching her arms out through the bars in attempt to get hold of Voldemort by the neck. He spun round before she got a chance, however, and shook his head.
"Oh, you shouldn't have done that," he said, turning the wand he had taken towards her. "Crucio!"
"MUM!" shouted Luna in vain, tears seeping out of her eyes as she watched her mother writhe in pain. Ronald — not knowing anything better to do — put a hand on Luna's shoulder and looked away.
Luna, on the other hand, could not look away, despite how much part of her wanted to. It practically killed her, to see her mother in pain, and there just behind lay her father, victim of the same curse. Her eyes were fixed on the sight, and she could not blink, even when her eyes began to water more than they were already doing.
Voldemort snapped his wand upward, breaking his connection with Cynthia, who then collapsed to the ground beside London. Luna still did not look away.
"Mum..." Luna said weakly, as she stared at the motionless form.
"It'll be OK," said Ronald in a very awkward manner.
"Oh, isn't that sweet," said Voldemort, turning to smirk at Ronald and Luna. He turned to the group at large. "Who's next? How about you, Weasley?" He gestured for Ronald to come forward, and for some reason he obeyed — it didn't seem to be his choice.
"No..." said Luna, who noticed idly that her face had tears on it. When did I start crying? she wondered.
"How are we going to get out of this?" Hermione hissed to Snape out of the corner of her mouth.
"Who says we are?" replied Snape.
"Crucio!" Voldemort cursed, and Ronald let loose a scream of pain that echoed inside Luna's head again and again and again...
"Why are you doing this?" demanded Luna of Voldemort, and it was a sufficiently unexpected question to cause the Dark Lord to cease his cursing of Ronald.
"Why am I doing this?" echoed Voldemort incredulously. He chuckled evilly. "Because I can, of course!"
And now the Dark Lord directed his wand at Luna. "Have you ever felt it, Lovegood?" he asked. "That unbearable pain? It seems your parents never had...nor Weasley. I can't imagine you would have..." He seemed to be talking to himself, more than her. She felt her feet moving beneath her, and all-of-a-sudden she was directly before him, Voldemort's long wand sticking into her neck.
"Crucio!" shouted Voldemort, and suddenly pain coursed throughout Luna as it had only done once before in her lifetime—and then, that wasn't even in this lifetime. It had been before, at the Riddle House. "For my own entertainment pleasure," as Voldemort had put it then.
The pain was so great that it was hardly pain at all. Luna could not feel the floor connect with her head as she lost her balance, and even if she could have, it wouldn't have added any noticeable pain, for Luna's nerves were already overloaded. She hardly knew her own name.
"Help," said a voice quietly, and Voldemort's wand jerked upward, breaking its connection with Luna. Yes, that's my name: Luna. That's it. I remember now...
"Who said that?" said Voldemort suddenly, turning round to see both London and Cynthia still laying on the floor, motionless. He turned back towards Luna, dismissing the voice as a figment of his imagination, and raised his wand again. Before he uttered the curse, however, Luna heard a musical hum, and she knew at once to whom the voice belonged.
"Help me if you can, I'm feeling down..." murmured a very drowsy London Lovegood, and suddenly he opened his eyes. "Where am I?" he said, attempting to sit up. "My head hurts...and my feet are sore!"
"Oh, not again..." hissed Voldemort exasperatedly, turning round. "What will it take to shut him up?"
London blinked, rubbing the back of his head. "I'm dizzy," he said, "and confuzzled. What happened to my cupcakes? Can somebody help me get my feet back on the ground?"
"Shut up!" shouted Voldemort into London's cage. "You do not realise that I hold your very life in my hands, and that I could very easily—"
"Life?" echoed London. "The cereal? Really? I'm very hungry, you know, and—"
"Imperio!" exclaimed Voldemort, unable to contain himself a moment longer. And an odd look came over London's face, as his hand took hold of his tongue, and he started pulling...
"Dad!" said Luna, horrified.
"Iwonumou!" said London, and somehow Luna felt he had said "It won't come out!"
This did nothing to help her calm down.
"Stop pulling!" shouted Luna futilely. The other three conscious prisoners could do nothing but stare at the spectacle, until—
Crack!
Voldemort spun round once again, and his connection with London was lost just as blood started to appear in the latter's mouth. He quickly stopped pulling and closed his mouth tight.
"Where did they go?" Voldemort demanded, and only then did Luna notice that both Snape and Hermione had disappeared. Where had they gone? thought Luna. And why did they leave the rest of us? That wasn't very nice.
"I have had it up to here," said Voldemort, putting his right hand at about his shoulder-level, "with you all. What is the matter with all of you? Can't you all just wait patiently for your impending death, and stop disappearing and distracting me and such?"
None of the prisoners felt that this merited an answer, and none of them gave one.
London sat on the floor, his hands clamped over his mouth so tightly that he was turning white. Both Ronald and Luna were against the bars of their cage, Luna crying and Ronald not knowing what to do, or what to say, or what to think. Cynthia lay unconscious on the floor, oblivious to all the goings-on about her.
And the Dark Lord stood between the two cages, looking back and forth between them, and wondering how two of his prisoners had just disappeared before his very scarlet eyes.
"Why are we even here?" said Luna, surprising even herself. "Why did you kidnap us?"
"I thought I told you that," said Voldemort, facing Luna now, and determinedly not turning again. "Because I can."
"That's not a reason," said Luna. "Why are we here? Why did you lock us up in cages to torture us?"
"Because I can," said Voldemort once again. "That's the only reason."
Luna shook her head. "No; you're just not telling us."
Now the Dark Lord looked annoyed. "And why should I tell you why you're here? You are my prisoner! I may do with you whatever I like, and there's nothing you can do about it. Now shut up and let me think."
Luna fell back from the bars of the cage as if burned, and indeed there were burn marks on her palms. She sat down on the floor of the cage and watched and waited. Ronald sat down next to her. Voldemort looked between the two cages once again, apparently in thought.
Across from them, London sat, looking very much like an overgrown four-year-old, glaring at the big meanie who had put the Imperius Curse on him. If he dared take his hands away from his mouth, he would probably have said something like "That wasn't very nice, you know!" but perhaps it was better that he didn't.
"That's it," said Voldemort suddenly. "I don't know why it took me so long to think of." He smirked. "I'll just kill you all and be done with it."
The Dark Lord pulled his wand again in his left hand, and pointed it at Ronald.
"Go to hell," said Ronald, not knowing anything else to say, nor any way to prepare for what he knew was about to come.
"You first," said Voldemort, and whether he was replying to Ronald's statement, or merely saying who was to be his first victim, it was impossible to tell. Not that it mattered.
"Avada Kedavra!"
"Oof." Hermione fell very awkwardly atop something rather lumpy. She couldn't figure what it was until it rolled out from under her.
"I would appreciate if you did not take your time sniffing my robes, or whatever you were doing," snarled Snape, standing up and brushing his robes as if she had gotten dust on them.
"Sorry," Hermione said, standing up as well and being thankful that — for what was the fourth time in as many unpleasant transportations — it was dark, for she was quite obviously embarrassed after landing on her Potions Master.
"Where are we?" said Snape, ignoring her apology.
"I can only imagine," said Hermione, squinting to try to find a bit of light in the darkness, "that we are back in Logica-Land. Where else could we have gone?"
"I do not care to venture a guess," said Snape, reaching his arms out in front of him and taking a cautious step forwards. "There doesn't seem to be anything blocking the path on the—" Hermione heard a thud and felt a reverberating shake of the "—floor."
"What did you trip on?" Hermione asked, not really having a clue in which direction to squint. "Where are you?"
"I'm on the floor," said Snape, "and I'm not alone."
"What do you mean?" said Hermione, walking round to try to find Snape. Suddenly, she felt a hand grab her arm and she was pulled down to the floor, where her hand collided with...
"Feathers?" she mused aloud, and looking more carefully, she could now see that laying before the two of them was none other than— "Harpia?" she said disbelievingly.
"Hermione...Granger?" wheezed the Harpy, much to Hermione's relief—she had thought her dead.
"Yes," said Hermione, tucking a hair behind her ear. "What happened to you?"
"A man...attacked me...from behind," said Harpia. Hermione felt her try to flap her wings, but they did not lift more than a few inches off the ground.
"What?" said Hermione. "A man?"
"Who?" said Snape.
"Man...in dark robes." Harpia gasped for breath, and Hermione realised that the Harpy was in dire need of help. Had a lung collapsed? Hermione couldn't tell in the current conditions, and Harpia needed attention as fast as possible.
"What did he look like?" said Snape.
"Queen Luna must...beware..."
"What did he look like," demanded Snape.
The Harpy gazed up at the two, and suddenly Hermione could see her eyes, albeit dimly. Harpia looked at Snape and took a breath.
"You."
And she did not breathe again.
Little Girl Lost "The prologues are over. It is a question, now,
Of final belief. So, say that final belief
Must be in a fiction. It is time to choose."
Wallace Stevens Coming Soon