The Cruciatus
Chapter 42
Saturday, March 15
The first thing Sirius heard when he came to was a crackling fire in front of him. He opened his eyes and found himself very warm and lying on the couch in an unfamiliar house with a strange feeling of déjà vu. He tried to sit up only to find his forearm heavily bandaged and sore.
A flash of lightning illuminated the sparsely furnished living room through the window and a clap of thunder followed soon after. He noticed his cloak was draped on a wooden chair near the fireplace. Rain was lashing against the window panes, and Sirius felt his stomach rumble when the delicious smell of baked bread wafted through the air.
He looked at his hand and tried to flex it experimentally but then hissed when a sharp pain ran through his forearm.
"Sorry about that. I wasn't sure if I should mend them. I might botch it up."
Sirius looked up to find Hestia standing on the threshold that connected the living room to what appeared to be the dining area. She was in a simple dress; her hair was undone and dishevelled and she was holding a parchment and a quill in ink-stained hands. She looked very unlike the prim Hestia in her sharp robes that he knew of. A niggling suspicion entered his mind.
He searched for his wand in his pockets with his uninjured hand and found it missing.
"Your wand is on the table near the fire. It was soaked in the rain, so I left it to dry."
Sirius immediately took hold of it and pointed it at Hestia, who looked at him exasperatedly. "Oh, come now!"
Sirius refused to back down. "Where were we before you brought me here?"
"Elphias Doge's house," said Hestia blithely. "And before that we were at that old tavern in Upper Flagley."
Sirius lowered his wand, satisfied. "But what happened? Why aren't we at Headquarters?"
Hestia put down her parchment and quill on the chest of drawers beside her and took a seat on the opposite couch. "I thought Travers was going to lunge at me and I didn't want to take him along for the ride to Grimmauld Place. So I Disapparated to my home instead."
"That's not very clever," said Sirius critically. "What if you brought him here to your house?"
"I panicked," shot back Hestia though her cheeks turned pink in faint embarrassment. "This was the first place I could think of."
"You need to shake them off by Apparating to a neutral location first if someone gets hold of you. We should teach this in the next Order meeting to the new recruits," added Sirius as an afterthought.
"Thank goodness for your presence of mind then," said Hestia dryly. "That Impedimenta slowed Travers down before he could get to us."
"What about Doge and Mad-Eye?" asked Sirius.
"They're at Headquarters and doing alright," reassured Hestia. "I sent a Patronus to Mad-Eye as soon as we got here."
Sirius nodded and looked back at his bandaged forearm. "You don't reckon you can mend this, do you?"
Hestia looked apologetic. "I know the spell, but I haven't ever had the need to use it."
Sirius knew Kingsley would know how to fix him or even Molly. But he couldn't go knocking to their homes for a simple fix that he ought to have learned by now. Besides, what could be the harm in trying?
He decided to throw caution out the window. "There's always a first time. You can try it on me."
Hestia's eyes widened. "Are you out of your mind?" she yelped. "I'm not a Healer! You should go to St. Mungo's."
"I'm not going to St. Mungo's for a simple thing as a broken forearm," said Sirius firmly. "Come on, I'm giving you my permission. How will you learn if you don't practice?"
Hestia still looked doubtful, but after Sirius' repeated insistence, she took out her wand. Sirius held out his bandaged hand and waited for Hestia, who stared at his arm unwillingly.
Sirius sighed loudly. "What are you waiting for?"
She grimaced and pointed her wand at his forearm, frowning in concentration. When Hestia opened her mouth to say the incantation, Sirius immediately stopped her. "Wait!"
Hestia jerked in surprise and nearly dropped her wand. She glared at him.
"Don't think too much about botching it up," said Sirius with a slightly pleading voice. "That's a sure way to get it wrong."
Hestia shook her head resignedly. "And here I thought you hadn't an ounce of sense to trust me with this."
"What's the worst that could happen?" said Sirius, shrugging, and winced when the muscles in his forearm pulled.
"Don't say that!" grumbled Hestia. "Everyone knows things go from bad to worse when you say that."
"Could you get on with it?" he said through gritted teeth, the pain rippling through his arm.
Hestia pursed her lips and pointed her wand at his forearm. With a complicated flourish of her wand, she said clearly, 'Brackium Emendo!'
His forearm glowed a faint blue and he gasped when he felt something on his arm that was painful but also oddly comfortable. Hestia was biting her lip, worry etched into her face as she looked at his hand skeptically.
He flexed his hand as much as the bandages allowed and was certain it was healed, if a bit sore.
"Well?" she asked impatiently, and Sirius fought the urge to smirk at the dread lacing her tone.
"Feels sore but not bad for a first time. You should teach it to me someday."
She sighed in relief and stood up. "Thank you, I guess. Would you mind for something to eat?"
"I'm not going anywhere in that rain, so I suppose I could stay," said Sirius, moving to remove the bandages.
"Don't remove that," admonished Hestia mildly. "It's always advised to keep it on for a few more hours. There could be some swelling if you use your hand so quickly after healing it."
Sirius looked at her, intrigued, when Hestia called out, "Teeny!"
A crack and a young house-elf, smaller than any he had ever seen, appeared, bowing respectfully at Hestia.
"Could you get us some tea and biscuits?" asked Hestia.
"Of course, Mistress!" Sirius knew from the high-pitched voice that it was a female.
"Oh, and do tell me if you see Newt, won't you?" added Hestia. "I haven't seen him since I got here."
With another bow, the elf vanished.
Sirius looked at Hestia curiously. "Newt?"
"My cat," she explained. "I'm sure he'll be back once the rain stops. He likes to stay outdoors, but he simply hates the rain."
Sirius nodded and looked around himself properly. The living room was decorated tastefully; ivory-coloured drapes hung on either side of the leaded windows and the carpet under his feet was of an dark mahogany mirroring the colour of the woodwork in the house. An entire wall adjacent to the fireplace was lined with bookshelves with rows upon rows of books.
"Nice place you've got here," remarked Sirius.
The elf popped in again, holding a tray laden with ginger biscuits, fruit cake, and a pot of freshly-brewed tea along with its accompaniments. Hestia gestured for him to help himself as she spoke, "This was my parents' house. I've been here all my life."
"What about your family?" asked Sirius by way of small talk as he poured milk into her cup, familiar by now with each other's preferences.
"My dad was killed during the first war and mum died five years ago," said Hestia, a touch of sadness lowering her voice.
"Oh," said Sirius, looking up at her properly. He hadn't expected that. It was yet another brutal reminder of what the first war had done to all of them. "I'm sorry."
Hestia nodded and accepted the cup of tea that he handed to her and she continued, "I have a sister, Demetra. She lives in Sussex now with her husband and two children. And you already know my cousin, Gwen."
"Right," said Sirius hastily, clearing his throat. "What about you?"
The words were out of him before he had time to consider if it was polite or even appropriate. He supposed he was seriously out of his game when it came to what was socially acceptable when talking with a woman. He quickly amended, "Er, you don't have to answer."
He always felt like he was crossing some unspoken boundary whenever he spoke with Hestia and tried to keep from asking anything that was too personal.
Hestia was silent and seemed to be mulling the question over as she sipped her tea. Sirius wondered if he should maybe just leave for taking it too far, when suddenly she spoke in a low voice, "I had a fiancé when I was nineteen. I haven't needed anyone since."
Sirius' curiosity got the better of him. "Had?"
"He broke off the engagement when he left me for another woman." Hestia stared at the fire, her face contorting at the unpleasant memory.
Sirius couldn't think of anything better to say than, "He sounds like a right bloody git."
"So was I, for thinking he ever loved me," she said scornfully. She shook her head. "What are we doing talking about that? Tell me about you, Sirius."
Now Sirius remembered why he hated asking personal questions. They were always an invitation for the other person to ask the same of him.
He scowled. "What's there to know that the Daily Prophet hasn't already printed?"
"I'm talking about you before Azkaban," pressed Hestia, eager to divert the subject from herself. "Anyone catch your fancy?"
"Oh, plenty!" said Sirius, rolling his eyes and seeing no point in covering it up. It all seemed so long ago. "But an honest relationship? I don't think so."
Hestia set down her tea and took a bite of a ginger biscuit, before remarking, "That's depressing."
"Thank you for pointing out the obvious," said Sirius drily, albeit amused. Hestia snorted in response and there was a comfortable silence when Sirius ate some of his cake, noticing the rain slowing down to a drizzle outside the window. "Why haven't you found someone else after that tosser?" he asked after a full minute of silence.
"Life got in the way," said Hestia unaffectedly.
"Were you by some chance sitting around in Azkaban trying not to lose your mind?" asked Sirius unthinkingly. Almost immediately, he regretted bringing up his stint in Azkaban with Hestia. He'd already learned she didn't enjoy hearing about it the last time. He didn't want to spoil her mood; and the realization that he even cared about not wanting to spoil her mood had been so startlingly unfamiliar that he had walked away from her as fast as he could during that pleasant afternoon last month in Grimmauld Place.
To his surprise, she huffed out a laugh. "No, I was upset."
Her short answers were egging him on and he asked doggedly, "Understandably so, but for ten years?"
"Not that long," she conceded with a small smile. "I was actually studying to become a Healer at that time, but I dropped out."
"Is that how you knew how to heal my arm?" said Sirius in understanding. "But why did you quit? No offence, but it seems stupid of you to quit over a boy."
"I didn't quit because my engagement was off," said Hestia, flushing heatedly. She then sighed as she added, "No, I agree that was part of it. But I had no choice. My mum was getting sick and had to retire early; my sister was still at Hogwarts and my father had debts that he hadn't settled before he died. Someone had to earn for the family. So I dropped out and took up all sorts of odd jobs, trying to make ends meet."
"But you could have taken up your Healer studies again," said Sirius, feeling sympathetic at her predicament.
"I tried to," explained Hestia with a wistful quality to her voice. "But my heart wasn't in it anymore. By the time I could finally catch my breath, my sister got married and moved out. A year later my mum passed away and I've been here since."
They lapsed into silence again and Sirius idly noted that the rain had all but stopped by now.
"Listen, thanks for fixing my arm and the tea," said Sirius, gathering his warm cloak from near the fireplace and fastening it. "But I have to get going."
Hestia seemed relieved that he wasn't asking anymore questions about her life and she stood up.
"There's the Order meeting tomorrow at five o' clock. Mad-Eye told me to let you know," she said and Sirius smiled gratefully before leaving her house. "I'll see you then."
oOo
Sunday, March 16
"We've been around that tavern for a week," said Sirius. "We have some evidence that the Death Eaters are using that place, if only the low-level ones. I say we get inside if we want to hear something useful."
The members of the Order were all assembled in the dining hall of Grimmauld Place. Half-finished cups of tea and platters of scones and lemon cake slices lay haphazardly on the table along with scrolls of parchment and quills.
"There would be no point in getting inside unless we are absolutely certain of the presence of a Death Eater," said Moody brusquely.
"It would simply be a waste of our Polyjuice supplies," supplied Dedalus, his ludicrous green top hat askew.
"There's no need to hurry," said Kingsley. "I say we wait a little."
"While Death Eaters are making children kill their own parents?" said Hestia distastefully. Sirius wholeheartedly agreed with that sentiment.
"What are the Aurors doing about this?" asked Bill, looking at both Kingsley and Tonks.
The latter spoke from beside Remus, her new ring glittering proudly on her left hand. "I heard from Robards that the Aurors have targeted seven different places like The Gargoyle where there might be Death Eater activity. There's been no success finding or tracking any of them so far."
"The Aurors are already busy rounding up Imperiused people posing as Death Eaters," said Catherine Johnson.
"Azkaban must be teeming with prisoners," remarked Charlie.
"And it is of no consequence as long as the Death Eaters of Voldemort's inner circle are loose and running around," said Remus, looking remarkably better than Sirius had ever seen him since Azkaban.
"Did you see the Evening Prophet today?" asked Oliver Wood.
Lee nodded. "Mundungus Fletcher was taken to Azkaban."
"Dung?" said Fred incredulously. "But why?"
"He wasn't Imperiused or anything, was he?" asked George, sounding slightly worried.
"No," said Oliver, passing the newspaper along to George, who hastily rifled through its pages. "He apparently impersonated an Inferius when he was trying to burgle a shop in Diagon Alley."
"Are you sure you didn't addle his brains when you Obliviated him?" asked Hestia, turning to look at Sirius with a critical eye.
Sirius tried not to get too offended. "I'm certain I did it properly," he grumbled.
"At least, Azkaban won't be so bad without the Dementors," said Angelina.
Remus asked suddenly, "Arthur, have you been keeping watch for any Ministry folks suddenly seeming vacant or possibly Imperiused."
"I haven't found anything to be suspicious," said Arthur. "Although Dev Patil is still under tight security since he got that death threat over Christmas."
"I must ask, where is Elphias?" asked Kingsley.
"He's upstairs," grunted Moody. "Hasn't slept since last evening. I say we fortify his house before he goes back. We'll need at least five people to strengthen the charm."
Moody decided Sirius and Remus were to be part of the team along with Fred, George, and Oliver, who volunteered to learn the charm hands-on from them.
"Who was it that attacked?" asked Tonks, after the decision was made.
"Travers and some other Death Eater," said Hestia. "They tried to Imperius him."
"Which is why you never go anywhere without company," said Moody gruffly and Sirius nodded his approval. "We wouldn't know if one of us got Imperiused."
"Isn't there some way to break an Imperius charm on someone else?" asked Alicia Spinnet.
"Unless the caster himself lifts the charm, no one else can break it other than yourself," said Remus, ever the teacher.
Fred immediately spoke, "Harry could resist the Imperius curse, remember George?"
"Yeah," said Lee enthusiastically. "When the fake Moody, sorry Mad-Eye," he added apologetically to Moody, whose mouth twisted in disgust. "—cast it on him during our sixth year. Everyone was talking about it for a week."
"And thank goodness he did," said Angelina, shuddering. "Can you imagine what would have happened if he hadn't lifted the charm? He was a Death Eater in disguise."
Sirius was certain he felt his heart stutter for a second. When he put it like that, it seemed a miracle his godson was still alive and well after numerous attempts by Voldemort and his people to finish him. He made up his mind to check in on him through the mirror as soon as he got home and remind him to not forget to practice the Ferrifors and Ferrum Duro spell. He never wanted Harry to be unprepared again.
Moody growled, "Well, you aren't all Potter, so you better save your sorry arses from ever coming in contact with an Imperius."
"Can you cast off an Imperius, Mad-Eye?" asked Alicia curiously.
Moody looked very offended, his electric blue eye spinning. "Of course I can! I'm not a decorated Auror for nothing."
"Ex-Auror," corrected Fred cheekily.
Everyone was engaged in casual banter, teasing Mad-Eye, and though Sirius liked the pleasant atmosphere in this cold, dark house, he couldn't help but worry that the Order was once more staffed with very young people like the last time. That had been one of the biggest mistakes they had committed during the first war – not taking the enemy seriously.
It was painfully apparent now, when a new generation had taken their place. For the umpteenth time, Sirius was forced to come to terms with the fact that he was getting old. He grimaced at the thought. Sometimes, it felt like he hadn't even begun to live yet and he was already thirty seven.
oOo
Friday, April 25
The days were becoming sunnier as was Harry's mood. Ron and Hermione had made up after his attempted poisoning and Ron had finally broken up with Lavender when Harry had taken the Felix Felicis, successfully getting the memory from Slughorn.
After viewing the memory with Dumbledore and the illuminating talk that followed, Harry felt more clear-headed than ever. His lingering doubts about the prophecy and himself from during his Christmas holidays had resolved somewhat and he understood what Dumbledore was trying to teach him: Harry wanted to fight Voldemort and he wanted to be the one to finish him.
He had ecstatically relayed the incident with Slughorn to Sirius through the mirror, who was very impressed with how he had handled it. Sirius had reminded Harry again to keep practicing the Ferrifors spell every day as he had been doing for the past month during every conversation with him using the mirror. Even though Harry was still having trouble with it, he had produced a very thin sheet of iron during one particular practice in his empty dorm and was bolstered to try even harder after his talk with Dumbledore.
Remus, who had been a regular correspondent with Harry through letters, had sent a particularly long letter last month, telling him of his engagement with Tonks and all about their upcoming wedding that was planned for July. Harry was greatly excited and looking forward to the summer holidays for the first time in his life.
All through this, he had not forgotten about Malfoy. Dobby had told him that Malfoy was going to the Room of Requirement and Harry had spent a lot of his time trying very hard to somehow get inside but in vain. He had not given up on it yet, but his spare time was becoming more and more limited with practice sessions for the upcoming Quidditch match against Ravenclaw.
When Harry told Dean that he wasn't needed on the team anymore as Katie had finally returned, Dean had sulked a lot but then cheered considerably after Ginny comforted him. Harry was not too swamped with jealousy when he witnessed that however, as their practice sessions were better than ever with Katie and Ron back on the team. He really had a feeling that his team could win this. It would be the source of his pride and happiness if his first outing as Captain was a roaring success.
The run-up to the finals also meant that this crucial match was preceded by all the usual features: members of rival Houses attempting to intimidate opposite teams with unpleasant chants as they passed; the team members themselves either swaggering around enjoying all the attention or else dashing into bathrooms between classes to throw up.
A few days before the match against Ravenclaw, Harry found himself walking down to dinner alone from the common room, Ron having rushed off into a nearby bathroom to throw up yet again, and Hermione having dashed off to see Professor Vector. More out of habit than anything, Harry made his usual detour along the seventh-floor corridor, checking the Marauder's Map as he went.
For a moment he could not find him, but then he saw Malfoy's tiny, labelled dot standing in a boys' bathroom on the floor below, accompanied, not by Crabbe or Goyle, but by Moaning Myrtle.
Harry dashed down the marble staircase and along the passageway below that was empty. Outside the bathroom, he pressed his ear against the door. He could not hear anything. He very quietly pushed the door open.
Draco Malfoy was standing with his back to the door, his hands clutching either side of the sink, his white-blond head bowed.
"Don't," crooned Moaning Myrtle's voice from one of the cubicles. "Don't… tell me what's wrong… I can help you…"
"No one can help me," said Malfoy. His whole body was shaking. "I can't do it… I can't… It won't work… and unless I do it soon… he says he'll kill me…"
And Harry realized with shock, that Malfoy was crying — actually crying — tears streaming down his pale face. Malfoy gasped and gulped and then, with a great shudder, looked up into the cracked mirror and saw Harry staring at him over his shoulder.
Malfoy wheeled around, drawing his wand. Instinctively, Harry pulled out his own. Malfoy's hex missed Harry by inches, shattering the lamp on the wall beside him; Harry threw himself sideways, shouting 'Impedimenta!', but Malfoy blocked the jinx and raised his wand for another —
"No! No! Stop it!" squealed Moaning Myrtle, her voice echoing loudly around the tiled room.
There was a loud bang and the bin behind Harry exploded; Harry attempted a Leg-Locker Curse that backfired off the wall behind Malfoy's ear and smashed the cistern; water poured everywhere and Malfoy, his face contorted, cried, 'Crucio!'
Harry's mind was blank for the space of a fraction of a second and, out of habit and desperation more than anything, he yelled 'Ferrifors!'
The spell never worked and the Cruciatus hit him with full-force. He crashed to the floor yelling and writhing in pain and his wand rolled away from his twitching hands.
Malfoy was pale and his eyes widened in frightened realization as he tried to bolt out of the bathroom, but Harry's ears were ringing with the sounds of his own echoing screams and righteous anger coursed through him. He vividly remembered the scribbled words of the Half-blood Prince: 'Sectumsempra - For Enemies' and the idea of hurting Malfoy consumed his mind. He stretched out his wand arm and his wand flew back into his hand with a quiet thought before he bellowed from the floor, "SECTUMSEMPRA!"
Blood spurted from Malfoy's face and chest as though he had been slashed with an invisible sword. He staggered backward and collapsed onto the waterlogged floor with a great splash..
"No —" gasped Harry, stunned by what he was seeing.
Slipping and staggering, Harry got to his feet and lunged toward Malfoy, whose face was now shining scarlet, his pale hands scrabbling at his blood-soaked chest.
"No — I didn't — I never —"
Harry fell to his knees beside Malfoy, who was shaking uncontrollably in a pool of his own blood. Moaning Myrtle let out a deafening scream:
"MURDER! MURDER IN THE BATHROOM! MURDER!"
The door banged open behind Harry and he looked up, terrified. Snape had burst into the room, his face livid. Pushing Harry roughly aside, he knelt over Malfoy, drew his wand, and traced it over the deep wounds Harry's curse had made, muttering an incantation. The flow of blood eased and the wounds seemed to be knitting.
Harry was still watching, horrified by what he had done, barely aware that he too was soaked in blood and water. When Snape had performed his counter-curse for the third time, he half-lifted Malfoy into a standing position.
"You need the hospital wing. There may be a certain amount of scarring, but if you take dittany immediately we might avoid even that… Come…"
He supported Malfoy across the bathroom, turning at the door to say in a voice of cold fury, "And you, Potter… You wait here for me."
It did not occur to Harry for a second to disobey.
oOo
A/N:
Hestia's cat's name Newt was actually a derivative of the word Noot - an Egyptian cat name. It took me two days to realise it could also mean Newt Scamander XD I liked it too much to change it.
Thanks to evadnekapaneos for your input and for beta'ing this chapter.
