The Carrows' Calling
Disclaimer: None of this belongs to me, my name is Z-I-G-O-S-T-I-A, not J-K R-O-W-L-I-N-G.
Chapter Twenty-One
Luna woke up to someone shaking her roughly. She slowly came to, only to find Dean hovering above her, shouting her name in panic. Then, suddenly, the previous night came back to her in a rush of fright, like cold water being dumped upon her body, awakening her to the past.
The door banged open and Luna sat upright on the floor, a little annoyed, as she was just about to fall into an endless, maybe peaceful, void of dreams. As the door opened, light streamed into the room and the entire place was bathed in a well-needed golden glow. A woman was dressed in black robes that were ripped in certain places though, they seemed like they were cut on purpose. Behind her, stood two men with their wands drawn. The woman gave a loud cackle.
"This is the little girl who has been giving so much trouble to the Carrows!" Luna looked up at the voice groggily, rubbing her eyes. A finger was pointed straight at Luna's face, causing her to draw back with a start, and the woman was laughing at her, her mouth wide open. The laugh was very strange, it was loud and soft at the same time.
"Nott! Avery! Take her to the Dark Lord, as the Lord has asked!" Bellatrix shrieked. The two men behind her, the people whom Luna assumed was Nott and Avery, walked up from behind Bellatrix and stood directly in front of Luna. Luna looked up at them, too confused and dazed to react properly.
Suddenly, she felt a pair of arms reach down and grab her roughly. She shook out of her daze and suddenly she could see everything going on with frightening clearness. She was pulled up and she winced as she heard the other witch scream.
"Where are her chains?" Luna looked around her, curious as to the same thing, for she was still a tad dazed. She then remembered Griphook had picked the locks off. Griphook—where was Griphook? Luna ignored the thought for now, and focused on what was on hand. She blinked the drowsiness away, and tried to clear her thoughts.
Bellatrix stood with her wand pointed straight at Luna, who looked right back at her. Then, for the first time, one of the henchmen with the witch spoke, with slight hesitation.
"Madam Lestrange. It would matter not if she was chained, for the Dark Lord will be with her. And you are here," he added hastily, shrinking back as Bellatrix glared.
"Of course, of course. Walk her out, in front of me, if you may," Bellatrix said coldly and held the door open. Then, Luna had finally grabbed of her senses and began to thrash and scream in the guards hold. She screamed like there was no tomorrow and she would feel her hair whipping on the arms of the men. Her legs kicked back and forth as much as possible, in the position she was in; dragged along the floor, her feet scraping on cold ground. In the far distance, she could hear Bellatrix yell,
"Control her!"
A wave of comfort and warm ran over her. There was a little voice in the back of her mind, whispering, taunting her—Listen to Madam Lestrange. She will keep you safe. Relax. You're safe. The voice became louder and louder, more persistent, but at the same time kept its warm and motherly vibe. Luna felt herself falling into the voice, doing as it asked. She felt her entire body relax, and she stopped moving, just drifting in the hold of the henchmen, a serene smile on her face.
But, there was another voice. Battling with the soft, warm one, causing Luna to be very annoyed; she wanted the other voice only.
This one was louder, more passionate, and completely different and yet somehow still very similar. It yelled at Luna, shouted like a drill sergeant, to wake up, to find her senses once more. Wake up! It's the Imperious! Are you an idiot? Luna Lovegood, wake up! It snarled, and she found herself leaning into the first voice instead—it was just better. It was safe, not commanding, just gentle persuasion (or so she thought). With the other, who knew what was going to happen? The first voice guaranteed safety. The second simply shouted at her to wake up.
She didn't know which one to trust. So she chose the Imperious.
But slowly, ever so slowly, the second voice became louder, and stronger. It shrieked at her, almost in a panic. Soon, it dominated her mind. She found herself waking up. She found her mind again, and it became clear to her
Luna! Snap out of it!
This time, she obeyed, and Luna broke out of the curse.
Ginny stared at the intimidating figure standing in front of them, with too much confusion to move. Professor McGonagall had pushed Ginny and Neville behind her and had her wand drawn, the tip pointed straight at the man. He spoke.
"Now, now, Professor. There's no need to get all violent. No catfight needed," he said, in a sickly sweet voice. He was taunting them, trying to egg them on. Ginny visibly shuddered, and the man must've noticed, for his grin had widened further.
"Stand back," Professor McGonagall warned. "What, may I ask you, are you doing here, Mr. Lestrange?" she said, tone as cold as a midwinter's gust. Lestrange? Like Bellatrix Lestrange? The sneer on the Mr. Lestrange's face grew wider.
"Ah, so, Professor. You do remember me." he purred, taking a step forwards. Professor McGonagall raised her wand a little higher.
"Yes, I do. You had quite a talent in Transfiguration," Professor McGonagall retorted, the sarcasm dripping from her voice.
Ginny snuck a quick look at Neville, and was surprised at what she saw. He had a look on his face that Ginny wasn't familiar with, especially on Neville: vengeance. Neville was glaring at the man, with a look of such hatred and fire, Ginny was surprised that Mr. Lestrange didn't burn up right there on the spot. She had never seen Neville look like that before. Why does Neville hate him so much? And how does he even know him?
The man hadn't seem to have noticed them, as his eyes were focused on Professor McGonagall.
A very, very small part of Ginny, the cowardly part, the part that wanted to flee, and leave the fighting to the adults, thought it was better that the man didn't notice them. But as though Godric Gryffindor wanted to prove her wrong, the man spoke. To her.
"Professor. Is that the Weasley girl with you? And the Longbottom boy?" Mr. Lestrange sneered. Neville snarled at him, and Ginny could see his hands quivering with rage. Then it clicked. Lestrange. Bellatrix Lestrange. Alice and Frank Longbottom, aurors. Tortured to insanity by the Lestrange family: Bellatrix, Rodolphus and Rabastan Lestrange. If Ginny would bet on it, she would guess the man was either Bellatrix's husband or the other brother. Ginny knew why Neville was so furious now, and her anger simmered up as well.
"That is none of your concern. What are you doing here?" Professor McGonagall almost hissed the last part. The man leaned against the wall, his arm propped up on the on the frame of the door, looking extremely relaxed, with a smirk on his face.
"Ah, Professor. That is an excellent question. How long did it take you to think of it?" Mr. Lestrange taunted, a light, honey covered tone slicked into his deep, rough voice. He raised an eyebrow, and smiled—though it was really more of a sneer. Ginny felt a burning passion of hate fall into her chest, like fire roaring along her spine and body.
"I will only ask once more; what are you doing here, Rabastan?" Professor McGonagall snarled in a dangerously quiet tone. So his name is Rabastan Lestrange. Brother of Rodolphus Lestrange and brother in law of Bellatrix Lestrange. Rabastan smirked, and simply studied his nails, picking at the dirt under them.
"Ah. First name terms now, aren't we, Minerva?" Rabastan threw back. Professor McGonagall glared at him coolly.
"I think not. What are you doing in this castle?" The professor asked him once again, pressing the man for an answer. He didn't speak, but this time, Rabastan raised his wand. Professor McGonagall glanced at him for a moment, and Ginny thought that she could see actual fear sparkling in her eyes. The hate in her chest only seemed to flare up more. Knowing that this trash, this repulsive man, the man that had tortured Neville's parents to something that was worse than death, could cause Professor McGonagall to be frightened, made her want to hex him into oblivion.
"Professor. Perhaps I should be asking you that question. As you can probably guess, if you're not as stupid as Professor Carrows have said, which I really hope not, that I am rather good friends with the Deputy Headmaster. Which is, of what I know, your old position, Professor. The Deputy Headmaster has asked of me to finish up his rounds for the night; he has a rather important meeting tonight that cannot be interrupted," he explained, a light smile flickering in his features. He's just toying with her. "So, Professor, now it's your turn. What are you doing in this old, abandoned classroom?" he crooned softly, keeping his wand raised.
Professor McGonagall didn't reply. For once, she seemed at a loss for words, and Ginny was enraged that it was for this man. Rabastan, seeing this, continued on. "Perhaps you were working around with magic? And what magic, Professor, would require two wizards, much younger than you, to perform?"
Ginny snarled, and felt a hint of regret as the man turned his attention to her, though it was quickly overtaken by rage. He straightened up, and walked towards Ginny, footsteps alarmingly quiet. He stopped just shy of Professor McGonagall.
"Aren't you the pretty little blood traitor, of the damned Weasley family?" he murmured, bent down so they were eye level. Ginny was just about to retort, but Professor McGonagall beat her to it.
"You come any closer," Professor McGonagall warned, her wand raised. Rabastan leaned away from Ginny, and paced closer to the professor, close enough to spit in her face.
"Or what? You'll use some worthless spell to knock me off? 'Cause we all know my magic is stronger than your precious McGonagall's," Rabastan shot his words at Ginny and Neville, and Ginny felt so much loathing for him, it was almost as bad as the Carrows.
RUN! Leave the room. There is a door in the back, exit with each other. From there, you will find a door. Think of the Gryffindor common room and step through it; it will should lead you there. Rabastan can't follow you through, he's not a Gryffindor.
Leave. Remember your oath, child.
Ginny heard Professor McGonagall's voice fill her mind. It was loud and clear and it rang in her ears, the familiar firm, commanding tone. McGonagall, a Legilimens? How?
Nevertheless, she was sure that she had heard it, and Neville, too. She desperately wanted to stay back and help her professor, but she was reminded of the oath she had taken. If she was stay, she would lose all of her magic and become a squib. But if she was to leave, she would flee in an act of cowardice. For a moment, that seemed worse than losing her magic.
But she thought of McGonagall, and right there, she made her decision. Ginny glanced at Neville for a moment and saw he was staring back. From his eyes, Ginny could tell that he had heard McGonagall. But she couldn't tell whether he was going to stay, or going to leave. What was his choice going to be?
Ginny didn't know. So she made hers. She looked at Neville once more, and hoped that he could see her message. Good luck.
Luna was sitting on the ground of the cell, staring at nothing. Dean was perched on the stack of hay across from her. He was playing with his fingers, eyes lowered with thought, and reminded her strongly of Ginny. Ginny.
She wondered how she and Neville were doing. Perhaps they were plotting for the next Dumbledore's Army meeting. Or maybe they were in classes, preferably one without the Carrows. She wondered how Hogwarts was doing, how the professors were doing. The last time she had seen Professor Flitwick, well, he looked like he had aged a year in a matter of days. Clenching her jaw, Luna's determination flared. She was going to get back to her friends. No matter what. Nothing, nothing, nothing was going to let her friends leave her.
Dean's voice, suddenly speaking up, roused her out of her thoughts.
"What happened?" he said, turning to Luna, piqued by his curiosity.
Two such simple words. How could two words have so much meaning? So much to answer? And so many questions? Luna didn't even know where to start. She wasn't even sure who could be listening. For what she knew, she was in a cell with only Dean right now; Griphook and Ollivander were placed in a different one, of what Dean had told her. Dean had seemed to sense her uncomfort, for he said,
"If you don't want to talk about it, it's fine. I'm just curious, I guess." Luna turned her head towards Dean, quick to correct him.
"No, no, it's fine. It's just that…" she trailed off, trying to find the correct words in her still-murky brain.
"You don't know where to start?" Dean finished for her. Luna nodded and gave him a small smile. He returned it.
She slowly started to speak, and all of a sudden, it poured out. Every little bit, every little piece of feeling she had felt, rushed back, words clambering over each other in a sudden flurry of speech.
As she talked to Dean, she felt herself fall back into the memories once more.
She was in a large room, one of that she had seen before. It was the living room of Malfoy Manor, how she knew… Well, she didn't know. It was big, very big, was the first thing Luna noticed. The darkness seemed to sting her eyes, and through it, Luna could make out that the fact that the walls were painted an off whitish cream colour and the windows were draped shut with dark, dark green curtains. On them, embellished with complicated and elegant embroidery, was the large 'M' once again. It was a bright white, adding a startling contrast to the rest of the room, making it seem like the source of light in the dim place.
At the end of the area, was a single, large window that nearly took up the entire wall. Around the window, was an intricate design of carving. It was like a forest, the bottom being the trunks of the trees, and at the top, was the canopy. This window, unlike the others, was not draped shut and had the night moon shining through. Luna noticed that the moon tonight, was full.
Through the window, you could see the expanses of the garden. It was groomed so precisely it looked unreal and fake, but yet very beautiful at the same time. There were roses blooming in the hedges and of many different colours. White seemed to dominate the colour scheme.
Then, out of each corner of the large window, Luna saw that there were lilies growing, their stems curving around the window, very much like the design around it. White lilies. Symbols of death. Death. Luna wasn't surprised that death would be lurking around a place like Malfoy Manor. It seemed to lurk around everywhere really, nowadays.
There was a man standing at the window, his back turned to her. His hands were behind him, loosely together as if he was simply on a late night stroll. In a way, he was, for he was pacing back and forth on the carpet, but it didn't seem like one of those, 'I'm really nervous' pacing; more like a calm, relaxing one. He wore black robes that had a hood attached to it that was flipped up. Luna noticed that his hands were deathly pale and seemed very, very unnatural. One of the man's hands fingered a wand, but what type, Luna couldn't tell.
When Luna was thrown to the ground, she hadn't even realised that she was still in the arms of a Death Eater. She should've. Behind her, stood Bellatrix. She walked up to the man standing by the window and bowed down. The Death Eaters behind her did the same. Luna was forced onto her knees and her arms were still tied behind her back. It looked like she was kneeling for the man in front of her. Bellatrix was the first to speak.
"My Lord. I have brought her, as you, the Lord, has asked of me," Bellatrix said, falling into a low bow; her hair scraped the man turned around to the sound of his name, or the name he wished to be addressed by, and Luna almost choked.
The man—if you could even call it that—had small, thin eyes the colour of blood red. Luna had never seen an eye type like that, it seemed so unnatural and oddly sinister she wanted to run and flee.
But even so, it had some kind of beauty to it—no, not beauty—power. Power shone in Voldemort's eyes, and it made them shine, in a horrible mesmer.
His face was as pale as his hands and it seemed to look as smooth as marble. He had no hair and the top of his head was shiny, reflecting off the little bits of light that came from the moon through the window behind him. And in the middle of his face, where the nose was supposed to be, was two small slits, on a flattened face. His mouth was thin and his lips barely showed.
He reminded Luna of a dead, but also somehow still alive person.
Luna recognised him; how could she not? She had last seen the man standing in front of her two years ago, in the Ministry of Magic. Voldemort.
His mouth then opened, but no words came out. Rather, he emitted a shivering hiss; it sounded like a snake, and Luna knew that was what he was speaking. Parseltongue. Then, from a darkened corner that Luna hadn't noticed before, came crawling out a snake.
Voldemort continued on hissing to it. Luna watched, too frightened to move, as it slithered over to the man and coiled itself around its master. Voldemort petted its head and allowed it to move a bit more. Then, he spoke to her, in English, in a voice that made Luna shake with fear.
"Ah. The Lovegood girl, isn't it," Voldemort rasped, tilting his head to get a better look at Luna, who had no choice but to glance away. And even still, she could feel the red eyes bore into herself, as if she was an open book being read. It was piercing, painful; like she was completely exposed to the world.
It reminded her of Dumbledore's eyes, though the similarity ended there. Dumbledore's eyes, Luna could recall, were twinkling, shining with hope, happiness and love. Voldemort's shone with power, and evil.
"Dumbledore is dead, and you'll never see his twinkling blue eyes again," Voldemort said sharply, his voice patronising, high and cruel. Luna, if she could've moved, would've stumbled back in shock. Voldemort could read her mind. She immediately regretted not taking Occlumency, and wished that she had picked it up, like her father had once advised.
Luna glared at the man, but kept her mouth shut, deciding that it would be for the best, for her and her father. She didn't need anything that would push Voldemort, anything that would give him a reason to kill her. Even if the reason was shitty, thought Luna.
Voldemort walked closer and closer to her, until he began to circle Luna, like a bird of prey finding its meal for the day. His hands were once again behind his back and his beady, bright red eyes were focused on her, scanning to see whether she was worthy enough for him, worthy to be his lunch.
When he spoke again, Luna thought she saw his tongue flicker in and out of his mouth, very much resembling the snake he had just summoned to the room. It made sense, since he was a Parseltongue.
"What has your father been doing? Sending his useless papers that are much like that useless brain of him?" Voldemort sneered, his face scrunching up, making him look more and more unattractive than ever before.
He studied Luna, his wand not even drawn—that's how little he thought of her. Then, all of a sudden, the anger burst out of her, like fire, coating her in its flames.
Her father had raised her, loved her and treated her; spoiled her, with all she had ever wanted. After her mother had died, he had loved her even more, realising that she was the last thing left. She wasn't going to let some bald headed, noseless, prejudiced monster talk about her father like that. Voldemort didn't even deserve to speak of him, nevertheless insult him.
"Don't call my father useless!" she called out, as Voldemort blinked in shock. "He's twice the man you will ever be!" Luna yelled, her voice shaking with anger. If her hands hadn't been tied behind her back, she would've done something rash. Possibly have punched him in the face.
Snarling, Voldemort responded. "I can call your father anything I like, Miss. Lovegood. He is nothing, nothing, I tell you, compare to me. How dare you even say I am equal to him!" Voldemort shouted back, and before Luna could register anything, Voldemort had raised his wand and it was pointed at her.
"Crucio!"
Pain shot through her body, like her bloodstream was carrying it along. It had seemed to have become part of her veins, everywhere it went, pain went with it. It seemed like small knives had been stabbed all throughout her body, piercing every little bit of skin found. The curse seemed to want to hurt Luna, as if it had a mind of its own. It knew where she was hurt the most, and targeted those areas. Her cheeks, which had been scraped in the repression to do as Bellatrix asked, was where Luna felt the most pain. It felt like her skin had been peeled back, bit by bit by each passing moment.
Luna remembered once that she had skinned her knee, remembering that she had watched in fascination and amazement as the skin had slowly peeled back and the blood was oozing out. She hadn't remembered pain that day, a seven year old girl would've been crying. Her cheeks felt like that; scraped and bloody. But this time, she definitely felt the pain. It would be etched into her mind forever, haunting her for the remainder of time.
The shot of bright red light was aimed at Luna's chest and she was lifted up into the air, her back bent and her legs and arms dangling as though she was dead. If she had her choice, Luna would rather be dead than endure the pain any longer. Her eyes were wide open in shock, then suddenly closed again.
At first, Luna clamped shut her mouth, not wanting to give Voldemort the satisfaction of the pain reaching her body. After what seemed like hours, but was really seconds, Luna couldn't take it anymore and screamed. She screamed like there was no tomorrow, and as if the louder she screamed, she would be able to kill everyone around her. And kill herself in the time being.
The curse that Voldemort had shot at her was like no other; it was different, more powerful, more painful and much, much stronger. The man before, what was his name? Luna couldn't even remember, the pain was blinding her mind. He had said that his curse was powerful. But it was nothing, nothing compared to Voldemort's. Luna had never thought something so painful could happen to a human soul.
Then, all of a sudden, like a shower turning off, it stopped. The pain that was flowing through her blood ended. She collapsed back onto the ground, her arms spattered out in front of her, panting for breath. Her legs were sprawled out behind her, making her look like a human pancake, squashed flat on the floor. She hadn't had noticed that the chains had worn off in the curse. Voldemort probably didn't care, knowing that she would be too weak to move anyways.
From behind her, she heard a loud cackle. Someone was laughing. Laughing, laughing, in her pain. Luna assumed it was Bellatrix, after all, she seemed to gain happiness in a person's hurt. This made her want to rage at the witch, but at the time, she just didn't have the energy to.
So she lay there on the floor, waiting for fate to come to her.
Ginny bolted. She turned around and saw, as Professor McGonagall had promised, the door. It was tall and a dark wood that Ginny couldn't identify. The handle was a gold, roaring lion. Ginny heard loud breathing from beside her, and sure enough, Neville was standing alongside her, his wand drawn. Behind her, she could still hear Rabastan 'talking' to Professor McGonagall. It was when she yanked open the door that Rabastan noticed. The door had made a loud creak and Ginny stopped herself, freezing at the sudden sound.
"Wait, where are those—" His words cut off when he mumbled to himself, and Ginny thought she could hear a string of swear words.
The next few moments passed in a flurry of movement, everything seemingly to have become a blur to Ginny's eyes. The man ran towards them when Ginny slipped through the door, completely forgetting to think of the Gryffindor common room as Professor McGonagall had said, and Neville following right behind her. She felt his hand skin hers, and he had just missed grabbing it.
Right before she walked out the other side of the door, Ginny heard Rabastan yell:
"YOU LITTLE BITCH!" Ginny wasn't sure if it was directed at her, or Professor McGonagall, for she fell into a pit of nothingness. The only thing she saw was black, and swirling rainbow sparks within the black, reminding her of times when she had passed out. The first sense that came to her was touch. Ginny landed hard on her back with her arms laid out above her head. Her trademark Weasley red hair was eagle spread on the floor and she could feel the texture of the stones pressing into her scalp. She stared at the ceiling of the room she was in and realised there was a chandelier dangling from it—wait, chandelier? Shouldn't she be in the common room? With the Gryffindor red and the roaring fireplaces? There was no chandelier in the common room, at least to her knowledge. It was then that she realised that she obviously wasn't in the place she should be. Ginny sat up on the floor and glanced around her surroundings. The room was relatively large, and very, very dark. The only source of light was from the chandelier hanging from for roof, but even that didn't give off very much light.
Ginny fingered through her robes and round her wand. She raised it up in front of her and whispered,
"Lumos." The tip of the yew wand lit up, glowing with light and spreading it across the room. The walls seemed to be painted with a black wash and they were decorated with crimson red push padding. The ground she was on was still stone, but seemed to have been coated in a gold. In the left corner, there was a chair with a table. To the left of it, was a fireplace. Ginny once again pointed her wand at the hearth and spoke a spell.
"Incendio." A huge blazing fire burst up in the coal and began to light up the room even more. The room also started to slowly heat up, warming Ginny's cold bones.
Right beside the fire, was a door. It was the very same one as the one she had came into the room in. She pushed herself off the floor and stood up. Then, she realised someone wasn't there. Neville.
Ginny could feel the panic rise up in her. Where was Neville? Did he think, like she should have, to go to the common room? Ginny sure hoped so, for she had no idea how she was going to get out of this place, unless the door would still work.
She stepped up to the door, and turned the handle, imagining the Gryffindor common room right before her eyes and hoping, as the Professor McGonagall said the door should do, that the door would take her there.
Author's Note:
Hey, I'm back! Sorry for not posting in quite some time; exams are hard and annoying. I hope you will enjoy this chapter and I may post another tomorrow, back to back. Please review, I would like to know whether you have liked the fanfiction so far!
-Zigostia