A/N: So sorry for the wait! I had friends in from out of town, so there was much debauchery. Here's another long one, somber.

I'm imagining Fabian's wand as spruce.

a. moonbeam: I know there's no space in your pen name, but FF. net is weird and won't allow me to type it correctly. Anyway, THANK YOU! I'm really very flattered that you've been able to develop a bond with the characters and have enjoyed my story, even the slower chapters. I hope you continue to enjoy Remus and Rowan's journey with me. Please don't hesitate to let me know what you think in the future. Thank you so much again!

Sweetbutteri: Thank you! The faster chapters are some of my favorites to write, though I'm very sad about the Prewetts too. I'd been dreading writing that scene for a while :/

SMGF1: Thank you as always!

lovirosa: Thank you so much! And as always, you're right on with your deductions ^^

DontTellMeImWrongBitch: That last one was pretty emotional for me too :[ I loved the Prewetts.

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Disclaimer: I own nothing!

Chapter 59: Of Fraying Edges

August trickled into September with an empty silence.

It seemed just like a matter of time before the Order of the Phoenix fell apart. They'd only lost two in the disastrous mission at Dolohov Manor, and yet all of their spirit seemed to have died with the Prewett brothers. Fabian and Gideon had not only been experienced comrades - they'd been the Order's morale, its heart and laughter. How could the Order even hope to continue on with any fervor without them? Rowan continued to find herself choking on miserable heat at the back of her throat at various points in the day as she thought of Fabian's steady encouragement and Gideon's ready laugh. It didn't seem possible for them to really be gone when she could still hear their voices so clearly! But as she gazed around at her empty laboratory, it seemed evident that the joyful laughter of her colleague and his brother were forever silenced from this world.

Molly had been devastated, understandably. She'd lost both of her older brothers in one night. Rowan had never heard such a terrible sound of pain as the one that had sprung from the older woman's throat when they'd fallen back into Headquarters without the twins. She could feel something break within all of them at the sound. Arthur, too, was inconsolable, for he'd stayed at home with his family instead of coming with them. He continued to blame himself. Each tear that fell held the weight of their heavy guilt.

"I should have been there! I should have been there to protect them!" he had sobbed. There didn't seem to be any way to console the Weasley family. Rowan thought of poor Bill who had to leave his grieving parents for Hogwarts. She mourned that his First Year at Hogwarts would be darkened by the loss of his uncles.

Rowan's knee and Sirius' head had healed efficiently with some treatment from Lily, but Moody's right leg was completely gone. In the efforts to subdue the Imperiused Fabian, the curse had simply grown too much for the man to handle. His wand had backfired against its master as a result of his moral chaos, causing part of the ceiling to fall onto the older Auror, completely crushing his leg. He mused darkly that it had actually saved his life - if he hadn't been trapped beneath the rubble, he would have been with the Prewetts when Dolohov had shot his last curse, and he, too, would have perished in the explosion. From that perspective, a leg hardly seemed like a heavy price for his life.

It was clear now that there was once again a traitor within the Order. But who? Someone had told the Death Eaters that they were coming. Even if one didn't take Lacey's warnings into account, how else could they have captured and Imperiused Fabian with the intent to ambush the rescue team? How else would they have known exactly who had infiltrated the inner circle meeting with the Dark Lord? Nearly every aspect of the mission seemed to have been revealed to the other side. It was a miracle that Mina, Kingsley, and Remus had survived at all.

After the trio had fled from the main hall, the Death Eaters had pursued them. They'd used the narrowness of the corridors to their advantage as they fought their way through the manor. Emmeline had joined them after Rowan had sent out the warning, but they hadn't made it through fast enough to help the rescue team.

The only hole was that Remus had gone undetected, allowing Mina and Kingsley to escape. For a reason no one could understand, the mole had conveniently left out Remus' presence on the protection team when relaying the mission plan to the Dark Lord. But why? They could have just as easily captured Remus with Fabian and used him in the same way. And why hadn't Emmeline and Peter been captured as well, for that matter? Rowan also wondered where Barty had gone after their duel - if he'd gone to assist his allies in the great hall, he would have been able to attack Remus and company from behind while they were unawares. It seemed illogical that the only one caught and Imperiused had been Fabian.

Blame was thrown back and forth. Accusations of guilt were shot haphazardly. Sirius was convinced that the traitor was on the protection team - why else had Fabian been the only one captured? Remus, Peter, and Emmeline had been overlooked because one of them was the mole!

But no, James had argued back. All three of them had come to their allies' aid as soon as they'd realized they'd been betrayed. The mole would have stood by to let his or her teammates be killed. Their destruction would have been assured if the mole had been one of them - after all, they had plenty of time and the advantage of disillusionment to sabotage all three teams without raising any alarm. So it couldn't be one of them.

Mina bit back that James was being naive. The mole wouldn't give his identity away so readily unless he was completely sure that his master had a guaranteed victory. The traitor was more valuable to the Dark Lord if he seemed unlikely as the traitor, someone who was easily trusted. He'd probably kept the Death Eaters' logic muddled to maintain his disguise.

But any mole, regardless of what team he or she was on, would be able to give full disclosure of the mission to the Dark Lord, Lily had argued indignantly. All three teams had been fully briefed on the mission plan. Every member was able to give each team's location and details, so even if the traitor were on the rescue or infiltration team, he would be able to pass on the protection team's movements and targets to the Death Eaters beforehand. Therefore, a complete victory had been guaranteed, given that all of the information was likely relayed.

And so the mystery remained. They were no closer to finding the culprit than before. No member left the Order meeting without a bitter taste in his or her mouth. Sirius had glared scathingly at both Remus and James as he and Mina had left. She, in turn, wore a deeply torn expression between desperate frustration and suspici. Peter looked sick with grief, more distraught than Rowan had ever seen him, if that were even possible. Molly's despair was muddled with fury. She and Arthur had left without a word to anyone.

Rowan had never felt so lost - not only had she lost two dear colleagues and allies, her closest friends were now standing off against each other when they needed to rally together more than ever. Moody still remained at St. Mungo's for his leg - another man down in their already dwindling ranks. Arthur, Frank and James were convinced that they needed to get back into action, but their determination did nothing to assuage Rowan's fears. As she thought of little Ron, Neville, and Harry, she was filled with a deep sense of dread that coated her stomach acidly. The distant horizon looked ever darker.

Remus gazed around the kappa sanctuary of the I.C.E. emptily. He sat at the research table, leaning back in his chair tiredly, half-expecting to hear that familiar, jolly voice again. He reprimanded himself silently - he knew he would never hear that voice again, and yet, he continued to hope.

It had been a week since Fabian and Gideon's death, and with Fabian now gone, his department was without a Head. There was a quiet electricity around the office as news of his grisly death spread.

Did you hear about Fabian? How could this happen?

I heard he was in Dumbledore's army and was murdered by Death Eaters. They say Antonin Dolohov was arrested the same night. They have to be related.

What's going to happen to the department now?

Remus couldn't bear the whispers anymore and had locked himself in the kappa sanctuary, left alone with the strange little creatures, but even they seemed to be mourning the researcher's death quietly. They had been sluggish, dragging themselves through the water and showing a lack of interest in the intruding wizard. It seemed that there was no way to distract himself from the sudden void his mentor/employer had left.

He felt his stomach clench again with dread. He'd only been able to get this job with his condition as an act of good faith from Fabian, and now with him gone, the security of his position seemed to be hanging by a thread. The name of the new Head had yet to be announced, but no matter which candidate they chose, it seemed almost definite that it would be someone with objections to his position at the I.C.E. Death Eater werewolf activity had been on the rise, and with it, prejudice against werewolves was growing rampant. Fabian had kept word of his condition hushed and the colleagues who were aware in check, but now... He shuddered.

From the corner of his eye, he saw one of the younger kappas peeking out at him from a growth of tall reeds. Its shiny bald head reflected a bit of light as it stared openly at the wizard. Remus smiled quietly and picked up a slice of cucumber from his table, tossing it to the young kappa. It jumped slightly with surprise as it saw the vegetable piece floating forward and then scrambled excitedly, snatching up the slice in its little claws before turning and running back into the water. With an ungraceful splash, it was gone.

Remus watched the kappa disappear fondly. Just four years ago, he never would have guessed that this was what he'd be researching now, but it had been surprisingly fulfilling. He thought of Fabian's exuberance and passion for the subject of magical creatures and smiled. If it hadn't been for that man, he wouldn't have this job. He wouldn't have a purpose that drove him to wake up every morning. He owed so much to the late wizard, and he'd never told him how grateful he was. He hoped that Fabian somehow knew.

"Mr. Lupin?"

Remus looked up from his brooding to see a petite woman in pale pink robes staring apprehensively at him from the entrance. The door was cracked open ever-so-slightly. Her large round eyes peered in. It was Fabian's old secretary. Martha, was it?

He smiled tiredly. "Afternoon. Something I can help you with?" he asked kindly.

Martha - or was it Marta - smiled nervously. Had she always looked at him that way? Remus fought a grimace from his face - no, she hadn't.

"You're needed in Fabian's office," the older woman squeaked.

Remus sighed and nodded his head. The secretary fell away from the door and scampered away without another word. It swung shut quietly, and Remus knew somehow that he would be hearing another door shutting soon. He stood slowly and ran a tired hand through his hair before gathering up his files and making his way for the door. Before exiting, he turned and gave the kappa sanctuary one last look over. If he tried hard enough, he could still hear Fabian's trumpeting laughter.

Rowan sat on the floor of Amrit's cold lab alone in the middle of the old runes Fabian had carved into the tile just three months ago. She gazed around listlessly at the ancient script she didn't understand, fingers tracing over them idly. She wanted to be working on something - anything - but each time she'd even moved to lift a vial or cauldron, her arms had gone numb.

And so she'd resigned herself to the floor. It was the middle of the day. Amrit was teaching classes, and Lescos was at St. Mungo's. At this time, she would normally be working on the next improvement on her potion, but it seemed useless at this point. After all, there was no one there to help with the protection spells required each full moon. How would they even conduct their experiments at the next cycle?

Her face darkened further - how would they protect Isaac? Sure, the last full moon had been a success, but no one could guarantee that they would achieve the same results every time. And the only reason Isaac had been able to continue his life without word of his condition spreading was because of Fabian's help. There were hardly many wizards with the complex know-how who were willing to assist a werewolf every lunar cycle. Now that Fabian was gone, the success of Rowan's work was even more critical for her benefactor. And his well-being was critical for her as well - after all, she was only able to conduct her experiments because of his Ministry privileges and Amrit's academic resources. If word were to get out now and he lost his job as a result, how could they even go on?

"Rowan?"

Rowan's head jerked up to see Amrit standing in the doorway. The older witch was staring down at her with her full lips twisted with confusion. Her inky hair was pulled into a loose bun elegantly at the base of her neck. Rowan thought of the heavy bags beneath her eyes and her unkempt hair, feeling very shabby in comparison, especially in her disheveled state on the floor. She smiled sheepishly up at the researcher.

"I'm sorry. I just can't seem to find the energy to work lately," she said contritely, limply.

Amrit smiled sadly. "It's all right, dear. I know it must be hard. I can't imagine how devastated you must be," she said kindly. She placed her books on a nearby lab bench and then joined Rowan on the cold floor, much to her surprise. She knelt gracefully beside Rowan and took her left hand between hers, holding it tightly. The warmth was slightly comforting in its affirmation - they were both still there, despite Fabian's absence.

"You know things are going to be all right, don't you?" she asked quietly. Rowan stared down at her lap with her cheeks warm with mild shame. She felt like such a child. How could this illustrious woman - her supposed colleague - be so patient to humor her like this? She shouldn't be leaning on Amrit or Lescos when they were probably both questioning the status of their research as well. And yet, here she was, emotional and useless in front of her colleague again.

"I know," Rowan whispered. "I'm sorry. I don't know why I can't seem to keep it together. I just can't stop thinking about him. And Isaac - how will he be able to continue with his position at the Ministry without Fabian?"

Amrit's mouth tightened sadly. "I don't know how to answer your questions. I'm sorry," she said sadly. "But Isaac will find a way. He's much more resourceful than you are giving him credit for." She smiled softly. "And even if he isn't able to stay at the Ministry, we're going to continue with this research. You're so close, after all."

Rowan squeezed Amrit's hand and shook her head. "We're close," she said. "I would never have been able to make it this far without all of you. I haven't thanked you nearly enough for everything you've done - both you and Lescos. I just hope we can protect Isaac now, too."

"There is no need for that."

Amrit and Rowan looked up to see Isaac walking towards them. His pale eyes looked even more tired than usual. Rowan noted a couple more lines at the corners of his mouth, as if he'd been frowning heavily since she'd last seen him. She gazed up at him concernedly. As he reached them, Isaac's stoic face took on that quietly gentle smile - the one he'd given her after she'd found him with Alfred. Her chest ached slightly at the sight.

"I will be resigning from the Ministry this week," he said simply.

Rowan's throat tightened. "What?" she breathed. Heat rose to her face. "But why? No one could possibly know already! It's barely even been a week! We still have another two weeks before the next cy-"

Isaac raised a quiet hand to silence her. The words seemed to dry up in her throat. That steady smile remained, but the exhaustion in his face seemed to double.

"Word will come out soon. That Death Eater that was apprehended last week - Dolohov... he knows what I am. The upper offices at the Ministry know now as well. I told them that I will resign before word gets out so that they can avoid a scandal."

Rowan blanched. "But how?" she breathed. "How could he possibly know? No one knew!" she protested disbelievingly.

Isaac shrugged tiredly and then surprised her by lowering himself down to the floor as well. Her shock was furthered as he reached up and loosened the crisp pale tie that hung from his neck. He let out a soft breath and, with it, a bit of the constant composure in his face. He suddenly seemed much more human than she'd ever seen him. This must be the man that Alfred had come to know and love in their Hogwarts days. The distinguished lines carved into his pale skin were sharp. The translucent eyelashes that dusted his cheeks seemed to glow almost ethereally. She realized suddenly that he really was beautiful.

"I do not know how he knows, but he has already told the M.L.E. Department. It is better for me to resign now while my reputation is intact. The Minister already knows my intention to put forth my two weeks' notice by Friday morning."

Rowan gawped dumbly. She scoured her mind for any way that the Death Eaters could know about Isaac. The only people who knew about his condition were their colleagues and a few members of the Order. But those members were-

There it was - that icy fear.

Only her mother, Alfred, the Prewetts, and the Marauders had known about Isaac's condition. Assuming that neither Amrit nor Lescos had leaked his secret - and why would they? - that narrowed down the identity of the Order's traitor to those closest to her. Her face seared with horror at the thought.

"Obviously, this means that I will no longer have access to the Ministry's resources very soon," Isaac continued, unaware of Rowan's inner turmoil. "I have already begun taking steps to ensure that we have as many supplies and test subjects as possible before I lose my access. I believe that we can begin producing our own lycanthropic mice, and I have enough connections within the werewolf community to find subjects..."

Isaac's words began to drown out, however, as Rowan's mind scoured through the implications of this discovery. Her mother and Alfred were obviously not the traitor - neither were even officially Order members and certainly had no access to mission operations. And although Alfred's relationship with Isaac was strained, he would never be so vindictive as to betray his secret. James and Lily had been out of commission and unaware of the mission's procedures, so it couldn't have been either of them. And besides, Lily was a Muggle-born - obviously neither of them had any moral leanings towards pureblood fanaticism. She nearly shook herself with shame as she realized she'd even considered the possibility of it being either of them - of course not! They were two of the kindest, purest of heart people she knew!

Mina organized the entire operation, so if it were her - Rowan nearly scoffed at the thought - she could have easily led all three teams into a clean ambush. And she was a Muggle-born anyway, so there was no chance the Death Eaters would have even tried to recruit her - they would have much rather killed her on the spot.

Remus - how could she even consider him? But no, she needed to remain objective and approach it logically, but it still seemed ludicrous. He was a werewolf himself. He would never even betray a fellow werewolf, let alone someone whose position at the Ministry was so critical in alleviating his own condition.

This left Sirius and Peter. She frowned. Both options were feasible, if she pushed aside her own biases. Both had had ample opportunity to perform an Imperius curse on Fabian - Peter had been on Fabian's team, and Sirius had been in the dungeon with them. Peter had more than enough time to get Fabian alone. Even after the protection team had split up for their respective posts, Peter could have cornered Fabian unaware. He fit the mold of the unlikely traitor so well - who would ever suspect little Peter Pettigrew of betraying his friends, after all?

And then there was Sirius. While she, Moody, and Gideon had been releasing the prisoners, he had been on guard. He could have easily caught Fabian by surprise when they weren't paying attention. It would be a much easier way of taking them out without revealing himself and much less dangerous for him than attacking all four of them directly. It would also serve to explain why Mina and Kingsley had been able to escape - Lord Voldemort might have let them get away or pretended that he was unaware of Remus' presence in the main hall to provide an excuse for them to escape. Even if Sirius had betrayed them, he wouldn't have wanted Mina to get hurt in the process.

Rowan's throat seared. But it still didn't make sense! If either of them were the traitor, they could have easily arranged for all three teams to be ambushed quickly and efficiently, but it had been done so messily. And they'd both gone out of their way to save the remaining Order members. Sirius could have left Moody to die in the dungeon, but he'd hauled the bloody Auror all the way through the massive manor. If there was anyone a Death Eater would want to have killed in the Order, Moody would be high on that list.

And Peter had shown up just in time to save Rowan. She frowned again. She couldn't remember anything from the explosion in the dungeon to the moment she really came to outside of the manor. She obviously concussed her head during that time. Peter could have easily left her to die with the Prewetts. Really, he could have left them all to die, but he'd come running through the manor and up the tower as soon as she'd sent out the warning through the masks. A traitor would have left them all to die.

But assuming that her logic was right in narrowing the traitor down to someone within their circle of friends, the mere idea of any of them betraying the Order was unlikely morally. If one of them was the traitor, there had to be a reason beyond belief in pureblood supremacy. Had someone been Imperiused? Blackmailed? But if that were the case, then it could really be any of them! She wanted to tear her hair out with desperate frustration.

"-at do you think?"

Rowan looked up to see Amrit and Isaac looking at her expectantly. She felt her face warm slightly with embarrassment.

"I'm sorry? I think I zoned out for a moment," she said contritely, trying to push the paranoia away momentarily.

Isaac eyed her warily with that glassy stare of his for a moment before continuing. "I was saying that I believe we should continue with this cycle next week as previously planned, though we will have to find a more primitive way of restraining me should the results differ from last month. The four of us should also sit down sometime in the next few days and set out a plan of needed resources and coming steps in the light of my resignation. If you are to publish within the year as we had originally planned, we are going to need to prepare for the coming months."

Rowan absorbed the information slowly. She thought of her impending paper and the daunting path ahead. It hardly seemed important in light of the Order's fraying edges, and yet it seemed to double the weight on her chest. She nodded in agreement but said nothing. She didn't trust her voice.

When Rowan returned home, she found Remus already there waiting for her. As she opened the door, she frowned at the sight of his lean form sitting at her table, fingers tangled in his hair. Her stomach churned. There was no reason for him to be home this early.

As he heard her set her things down on the table, he looked up, hands falling to the tabletop. He looked up at her with a steady gaze, mouth pulled in a taut line. The dread deepened.

"What's happened?" she asked quietly.

Remus' mouth twitched, the corners of his lips pinching upward slightly. It wasn't really a smile. She wasn't sure what to call it.

"They've chosen a new head for my department at work - Dempsey Greengrass."

Rowan grimaced. The Greengrass family was an old Pureblood family full of Slytherins. It was well known within the Order that most of its elder members were Death Eaters.

"It hasn't been announced officially yet, but he called me in to talk to me in private today," he continued. "Even used Fabian's office." His voice fizzled with bitterness. Rowan watched Remus carefully, afraid of how this story would continue.

"He knows what I am obviously - it's in my employee file. Fabian had kept it private, but Greengrass obviously has no reservations about letting everyone know," he said darkly. "He made it pretty clear that my 'illness' won't be tolerated in his department."

Rowan's throat tightened. She gripped his hand tightly. "So... what now?" she whispered.

Remus made a small movement with his shoulders - almost a shrug. "He's letting me resign instead of being dismissed," he said darkly. He lips twitched upward for a moment, bitterly. "Pretty gracious of him, eh?"

Rowan felt a wave of emotion hit her as she gazed at Remus' bitter expression. He hadn't lifted his eyes to meet hers. She roved over his face, the taut line of his mouth. He was still the same - the same man as he'd been just a week ago when Fabian had still been alive. How could things be changing so quickly like this?

Anger erupted from her stomach.

"No."

Remus looked up at her, eyebrows furrowed with confusion. "I'm sorry?"

Rowan felt the anger surge up her throat and into her cheeks. There was so much of it - it seemed to pour into her arms, threatening to burst from her skin. She could barely contain it.

"No. No, this isn't fair," she choked out. She could barely speak above a whisper - afraid that if she did, the anger might overtake them both. But as Isaac's tired eyes and Fabian's cheeky grin came to mind, she couldn't hold it back. It seemed to grab hold of her voice and amplify it. "This isn't right! Why the hell should you have to resign?"

Remus' mouth twitched with frustration. "Rowan, what else can I do? I can't keep my job, regardless of how I go, so shouldn't I resign now before I get sacked?"

The anger turned to rage. It seemed to take on a substance, a rigidity, seizing her arms like stiff branches.

"Exactly! You're going to lose your job no matter what you do, but just giving up like this makes it seem like what they're doing is okay! And it's not! It's not fucking okay!" She felt heat stinging at the back of her eyes and throat now. Isaac's resigned, tired face appeared in her mind's eye. How could these men - these intelligent, good men - be forced to submit to something so completely unjust? How could they think that they should accept it?

"None of this is right, and you shouldn't be forced to just sit back and take it! You need to stand up to them and show them that it's not right!" she shouted. Her body thrummed with electricity. She couldn't make sense of how to hold herself or even the volume of her own voice. Her face was contorting with anger uncontrollably. She hadn't felt so much fury in ages. "You're not putting anyone in danger, and it's about time people fucking educated themselves! You need to tell them!"

Remus' eyes flashed with anger. His fists jerked against the table, shaking it with the legs crying against the wooden floor. "You don't fucking get it, Rowan!" he barked back. Rowan flinched slightly at the harsh tone of his voice but held fast, chin still raised defiantly. "You don't get it! You think I like this? You think I want to roll over and take this? Of course not! I'd give anything to show fucking Greengrass that I'm ten times as capable as he is, that I deserve to be there, but I can't!"

Rowan's chest seemed to jerk back in response. She could feel her heart pound in retaliation against his words. "Why the fuck can't you? Nothing is stopping you from fighting this!" she shouted back. "If you don't fight this - if you and Isaac and the rest of the werewolves don't protest how unjust this all is - how can you ever expect things to change? No one else will speak for you if you don't!" A few tears escaped. She wiped them away angrily, furious that they'd spilled at all. She faced off against Remus again, cheeks red and arms trembling.

"And what happens if I fight back?" Remus snarled back. "What then? Then I lose my job, and then everyone knows what I am! I will never be able to get another job! I'll become a complete outcast! You don't fucking understand anything about what it's like to be in my situation, so stop fucking preaching down to me like you know what's best!"

Rowan's stomach tightened at this. She felt a harsh pinch of insecurity, a whisper at the back of her head. But no, she wouldn't back down from this.

"You're right - I don't know what it's like," she admitted, "but I do know that if you don't stand up for yourself, this is just going to happen again and again to you and everyone like you, and nothing will ever change." Another couple of tears escaped. She shoved them away angrily. "Nothing is ever going to change."

The two stood in silence, squaring off against each other. Rowan couldn't bear to raise her eyes to his again. She could feel his gaze wander over her but couldn't meet it. Nothing will ever change. It echoed emptily down her ribs and into the pit of her stomach.

Time passed slowly, stickily. She could feel the minutes oozing slowly over them, filling the space between them.

"Nothing is ever going to change, huh?" Remus mumbled to himself. Rowan's eyes flickered up to see him staring hard at something on the ground, but she couldn't see it. His gaze looked to be piercing through the wooden slats of the floor. Hearing her words echoed back sent a tremor down her spine, emptying coldly into her stomach.

"Remus, I-"

Remus' head jerked stiffly in response. "No, I-" he retorted. His gaze still remained on that distant spot. He paused, as if second guessing himself. "I need to take a walk," he said quietly, an eerie sense of calm taking over his form.

And with that, before Rowan could protest, he made a beeline for the door. Not once did he look back up at her. She half-expected him to slam the door - perhaps she would have felt better if he had - but he opened it quietly and closed it behind him with a soft clicking whisper. Her flat was filled with a sticky silence, once again. It filled her lungs heavily.

A piercing shriek shook the cold stone walls of a large hall. A round, small man writhed in agony in the middle of the floor. Around him stood the blank faces of silver masks and dark robes. Above him loomed the tall form of his angry master, eyes red and teeth bared with fury.

"Forgive me!" the small man sobbed. The dark wizard roared again with anger, another flash of red light bursting from his wand. The curse hit the sobbing man, yanking another choking scream from his throat. His eyes rolled into the back of his skull, mouth open and sputtering as his back craned and thrashed against the cold floor. A thin film of sweat coated his round face. His upper lip was cracked and painted with dried blood. One eye was swollen shut.

Finally, the thrashing stopped, and the dark wizard swept down beside the pathetic man on the ground, grabbing him by a fistful of his thinning hair. His long spindly fingers tangled and twisted in the downy strands. The man cried out in pain as his master jerked his face up towards his.

"Have I made myself clear yet, Wormtail?" he hissed. He spat the final name out, spraying the whimpering man in the face.

"Yes!" he cried. "Yes, my Lord. I'm sorry, my Lord! Please! Please!" His entire body trembled under the weight of his master's presence weighing down on him, shrinking away from him as best as he could.

Lord Voldemort snarled in disgust and threw Peter down to the floor. He flopped onto the stone, grunting in pain as his head hit the hard surface. He went blind for a moment as he tried to refocus his eyes. He sobbed quietly into his hands, face pressed into the floor. Why? Why had he been so stupid?

"Yes, why indeed, Wormtail," the Dark Lord echoed, reading his thoughts. "I thought I'd made it clear that your person belongs to me now, but it seems that you still need proper educating," he hissed. "Did you really think you could save your friends with that little act of yours or are you just stupid?"

Peter shook his head dumbly and continued to sob. He couldn't even remember anymore. He'd given incomplete information to the Dark Lord regarding the mission. Had he really thought that the Order could escape?

"Yes, it was very foolish," the Dark Lord agreed, again prying through his thoughts. "Incomplete information and incomplete logic. It's a wonder you were able to pass your classes at Hogwarts at all, though I must admit that I'm slightly impressed you were able to keep such details from me. That threadbare Occlumency training the Order gave you came in use after all." Peter nodded stupidly, rocking slowly against the floor. He was barely hearing his master's words anymore. He just wanted the pain to stop.

"But you won't do it again, will you, Wormtail?"

Peter shook his head quickly, eyes clenched shut. The darkness behind his eyes was soothing. He continued to rock, continued to cradle himself against the hard stone beneath him.

"Say it."

Peter whimpered, "I won't do it again, my Lord." His tears leaked and trailed down over his nose, where they pooled against his cheek hotly.

"Again," commanded the Dark Lord.

"I won't do it again, my Lord," Peter said, a bit louder this time.

"No, you won't," Lord Voldemort agreed quietly. "You're lucky you're still of use to me, boy - so very lucky." He glared haughtily down at the round man for a moment, mind prying through the recesses of his psyche. Peter cried out as his mental walls were torn down forcibly. Dark tendrils seemed to grip his most inner thoughts, and with them, his throat. The squeezed and tore apart the deepest recesses of his psyche.

When he was satisfied, Lord Voldemort nodded to himself. "You will get me that child, Wormtail. I will not accept failure this time. Do you understand?" he asked quietly.

Peter's mind was a blank slate. His eyes were open, but he saw nothing but an endless expanse of white. The soreness of his body seemed to only echo the stripped state of his mind. His fingers reached out twitchingly. They slid into the now cold pool of tears that had gathered at his cheek.

"Yes, my Lord," Peter whispered. "Yes, my Lord."