Chapter 36: We crumble
'All alone he turns to stone, while holding his breath half to death... Terrified of what's inside, to save his life, he crawls like a worm from a bird...'- The Used; The Bird and The worm
He gasped out as his face hit the floor, panting and grunting in pain. Relief was short lived as he felt someone seize his collar, spitting and yelling into his face, the words mixed to his ears. "Well?! Why don't you answer? Speak when you are told to!" Someone roared into his face, like a lion opening his jaws. His captor wanted to cry, plea, beg, tell them everything. All he managed to do was grunt and cough out some blood.
"You son of a bitch..." That was the only warning he received until a giant fist slammed into his cheek. He wasn't even able to react properly, before a wand was directed towards him quite elegantly and someone gritted out the words like sandpaper.
"Crucio!"
The crutacius spell, was a very painful and hard phenomenon of a spell to explain. It wasn't like the pain of being stabbed- nowhere near that. Because it's not like only one specific spot hurts. This particular spell inflicts the pain on your entire body at the same time. Every nerve, muscle and organ feels like it's being stabbed repeatedly and repeatedly until the caster decides to lend you some form of mercy. And you want to die from the pain...
But the problem is you can't, because you're not bleeding or dying- and you never will, with that spell.
He wished he could black out; die right then and there, embrace death and even the devil. Anything that would block away the pain and stop it. How cruel it was, that he couldn't even think up a plea of sorts- the pain so refreshingly awful and repeating.
His vocal chords were raw and scratchy from the repeated screaming. He probably didn't even realize it was him screaming, twitching and gasping on the floor.
'Disgusting' His captor sneered upon him, before dropping the wand and ending the spell. He tapped his foot impatiently as the dirty, vile snail beneath him sucked in precious air in his pitiful lungs. He was never a patient man. Especially with weaklings.
"Well?!" This time, he grabbed the man's throat and lifted him a couple of centimeters off the ground. He grunted a bit at the pressure- 'not only utterly retching, but fat as well'. "Not only do you dare snoop around at the ministry and therefore, doubt the ministry itself." He squeezed harder, enjoying the sight of fleshed purple before him, eyes bulging and gasping. "Yet, you also refuse to answer the Minister himself?! Speak if you wish to live another second, filth!"
The vile thing only gasped harder, shaking as slobber started coming out of his mouth. He narrowed his eyes and scrunched up his nose at the sight, and quickly threw the man off to the side. "Disgusting." He growled and took out his wand, his eyes hard, the incantation already forming in his mind.
"That will be enough, Nott."
As if someone had put a knife on his throat, Nott tensed and ever so slowly dropped his wand, stowing it away. He didn't turn to the direction of the lazy voice, but his back was rigid as a board as his throat rumbled, staring at the twitching snail of a man on the floor. "Are you certain, my Lord? It would be best to clear this filth before it stains the floor." He sneered- the vile thing had the guts to vomit now, of all things.
The voice chuckled warmly, stepping out of the darkness, footsteps relaxed and even as he came to stand beside Nott, his form much shorter than the bulging muscled man. "Always one to finish things quickly, aren't you Nott?" He purred, not at all disturbed at the scene before him. Nott did not answer and the man didn't expect him to either. "Well, I don't blame you at all. You're making quite a bad reputation for yourself, Mr. Samuel." He walked closer, until he was standing right above the now quivering and wide eyed chubby man.
Mr. Samuel shivered despite himself. He couldn't calm down as he stared straight into the face of a young man; a person, seemingly much younger than him. If it were not for his title, such fear wouldn't exist in his body when facing him.
Or so, he tried to convince himself.
"I-I... It-t wasn't suppose-... I can-n explain-!" His tongue slipped- and with it, all the stuttering excuses he could come up with. Everything else didn't matter at the time- nothing did. He always claimed himself a brave man; but when facing him, he just knew his life was about to end. And no matter how selfish it may have seemed...
'I don't want to die!' Was the only thought swarming inside his mind like a disease, as the urge to live on became greater. He could easily admit right then and there, that he had never felt such intense fear.
"Now, now, Mr. Samuel." He cut off his excuses easily, voice calm and his smile fake. "I think we both know very well, why you are here. Dumbledore, am I right?" He ignored the way the man's eyes winded and waved his hand, Nott heading back to the door of the room the instant he saw it. "And I presume you have nothing to say on the matter- or that little organization you're working for." His smile was still intact, and silence filled the room as Mr. Samuel kept opening and closing his mouth, little squeaking sounds coming out, but no understandable words.
"Hmm, come again?" The young man purred, straining to hear Mr. Samuel who was desperately trying to say something. He quickly shrugged his shoulders, shaking his head. "Your tongue's twisted, isn't it? Well, despite it all, you've got to hand it to the old geezer... He knows how to tie up loose ends." He grinned, his smirk stretching into a cold and ruthless smile.
The sound of the dungeon door closing echoed around the room, like a death sign.
"I'll be honest with you now, Mr. Samuel." The grin slipped off his face and was replaced by a thin line and an emotionless face. "You, are going to die." At those words, broke down into tears and snot, and it was by all means a pitiful sight to see. Nott scrunched up his nose and huffed as he came back to the scene- standing a few steps away, never to interfere, but always to assist.
"But" He interrupted the man's sniffling, his voice chirping like a hummingbird. "Seeing as I just hate to see magic go to waste with no good reason, I'll give you a chance. And if you provide me with something useful, there's a big maybe regarding your death." It was the chance of a lifetime- the worst trap of the century.
And he grasped on it like a lifeline.
Mr. Samuel nodded and beamed up at his (maybe) killer. "Yes, yes!" He mumbled as much as he could with a few teeth missing and a bleeding jaw. He had a chance; he will be spared! The thought was like medicine to his mind and fear, starting to erase his doubts and raging demons of despair.
Cold, heavy realization sunk into him as he thought about what to say.
Nothing about the organization or it's rare members (that is, the ones he knew), Dumbledore made sure that no such thing would leak out. And all the other things he knew about- well, there wasn't much to say was there? Because he knew those things. Because they found out. He would be wasting his time; he only had one shot...
'Damn it all!'
Meanwhile, Nott was becoming more and more impatient with the struggling man; mumbling under his breath and shaking his head as he thought up excuses to be spared. He glanced at the relaxed back of his Lord, not doubting the fact he was getting bored too. He smirked despite himself. 'That snail's a goner.'
Minutes passed, and nerves snapped, yet no progress was made. 'Shame' He thought to himself as he turned around, signalling to Nott to 'get rid of him'. "Well, Mr. Samuel, I'm afraid that I have more important bus-"
"Wait! Please, I-I know something!" A voice cried out from behind; Mr. Samuel quickly got up, arms outstretched, his eyes begging for them to listen. Nott fumed at the spot, his face darkening. "How dare you interrupt-" He spat out, taking a threatening step forward before being cut off himself.
"The child's still alive!" Mr. Samuel screamed, backing away slightly as he shook his head for mercy. Such a bold accusation didn't seem to stop Nott in the slightest, but a quick glance from his Lord did. He turned around, facing Mr. Samuel again, serious and completely calm, his eyes alone telling that he better not lie or he will be granted no form of mercy. "Yes, ?" He smiled again, the hostile message gone but not forgotten.
"I-I..." gulped, before picking up his remaining courage as he stared at the floor. "I heard... That the child of the Potter's... It survived."
Nott was in absolute shock as he stared at the broken man, which had just said something... something, that would enable him no chance of survival whatsoever. He gulped internally as he saw the still and straight back of his Lord.
'Absolutely no chance...'
"You're lying." It was a quiet but firm statement, one which sent chills to both men in the room.
"I'm not- I swear on Merlin himself, I-" Mr. Samuel sputtered in protest. He was at a loss for words.
"Oh? Then" He replied, voice distant. "Look. At. Me." He snapped for the first time and Mr. Samuel did exactly that, automatically sensing the order.
His eyes... They made him wince and fear all over again, but he continued onwards. He had to.
"I heard a rumor... That y-you, weren't able to kill the child. That night...A-and it survived..." He gulped nervously. "I even know for certain that it's true! It has to be- I mean, they say that it's been living with The Potter's relative all this time! Dumbledore's been protecting them too!" couldn't take it anymore as he averted his eyes to the floor. The stare sent chills to his bones.
"Liar!" Nott accused immediately, his wand already in his hand. "No." The simple command stopped him as he glanced respectively at his Lord. "He's telling the truth."
All was quiet...
"Prepare an owl, Nott." He whispered and quickly turned, his footsteps quick and agitated as he backed away. "And take care of Mr. Samuel, too." Nott agreed; confused at the situation, but not daring to question anything at the moment. He pointed his wand at the vile snail, the poor man; Mr. Samuel, with no form of mercy or regret in his stance.
"Wait! I thought... I thought you wouldn't kill me!" Mr. Samuel screamed out, desperate. He told the truth- didn't he?
He chuckled and stopped. He turned around ever so slowly, his smile back and his hostility pulsed around him. "Oh, but I promised no such thing, Mr. Samuel." He purred at the shaking man; cold and frightening as his magic pulsed around them...
"I just said, there'd be a big maybe regarding your death." He turned back around, grasping the knob of the door. "You're lucky, though. You'll die quickly and painlessly- unlike most..." He trailed off, as a sharp wind blew into the room.
"You'll find me in my office, Nott."
And with those words, he departed. Just like Mr. Samuel did that very instant too- not even able to scream out a cry or a curse.
And with that event, The Dark Lord began chasing a dead child...
A/N: I have one thing to say...
I'M BACK. *smirks*
Aaaand that's pretty much it, I guess. I wanted to add more to this chapter, but oh well...
If you want to know more stay tuned. And for the reviews and follows I'm pretty damn grateful *grins*.
And for those that want to know how Holly looks like, then, you should...
WAIT and continue reading! (Ya know, since now I finally have a reason for forcing you to read more *Im evil I know*)