Ch. 53 - The Last Victims
At seven-thirty or so, Remus rolled over to find the bed empty.
Not at all unusual, as Emmeline was leaving for the Ministry earlier than that these days. He drifted back to sleep.
When he stirred again at half eleven, it occurred to Remus that, perhaps, Emmeline hadn't come home at all…
He couldn't be sure of course, since she usually snuck into bed after he was already asleep. But last night had been a full moon, and unless she'd stayed out of the bedroom and left him alone, he couldn't remember her coming home.
He pulled himself from the mattress with difficulty, finding his own blood from a large cut up his side staining the sheets. Feebly reaching for his wand, he rose up to survey the damage and managed to set the bed right with a vanishing spell, then applied some powdered silver and dittany to his wound to stop the bleeding.
With the blanket pulled around his shoulders he made his way to the kitchen, but was limping; something in his right ankle hadn't set correctly after changing back to his human form. More of an annoyance than anything, and not something he could fix with magic.
He peered into the sink, which was empty. Normally, his only evidence that Emmeline had come home was a few dishes - remnants from an after-hours meal - that she either left to soak or cleaned and set next to the sink to dry. Today, there was nothing.
He knew he would have heard her apparate or floo home, especially with how the transformation heightened his hearing. But he couldn't recall anything.
By noon he had dressed and sat quietly at the kitchen table, with his elbows propped up and one palm covering the other fist, pressed firmly against his mouth. His left leg bounced up and down rapidly.
This could have been nothing more than some overnight training session she'd neglected to tell him about. He didn't know much about her training schedule, other than bits gleaned from old conversations with the Longbottoms or the Prewetts. For all he knew, this was perfectly normal. Still, his leg fidgeted.
Around two, even with he limp, he'd gotten up to pace.
It was all he could do. He couldn't go out there with her, so he stayed home. Nearly all day every day.
In truth, he usually felt relieved when he woke up to find her gone in the mornings. They hadn't been…good. Of course they hadn't. Emmeline had been at the Ministry all the time and they'd hardly spoken to one another. But ever since the funeral, they hadn't been good with each other. Remus knew he had lost Emmeline's trust, and the numbness was still coming and going in waves. Not only that - Remus did not really feel like he could relate to Emmeline; not anymore.
When they did eventually speak again, they would undoubtedly talk about her auror training. They'd talk about the fact that she was off working towards some purpose, while he was acutely aware of the fact that all he did was sit at home all day. He didn't want to hear about her training, or her purpose. Frankly, he didn't want to be made feel like he lacked purpose.
If he was being really honest with himself, he was jealous. While Emmeline's life seemed to be moving forward, his had completely stagnated. He felt as though he'd left his life on the Potters' kitchen floor - like it had seeped out of him into the cracks in the linoleum and could not be retrieved.
Orpheus peered at him from on top of the kitchen cabinets.
"Don't look at me like that," he muttered. Orpheus merely ruffled his feathers.
3 days later
The fifth floor of St. Mungos, once a visitor floor, had been converted to a triage bay at the height of the war. Tonight, this is where Emmeline found herself.
Healers in lime green robes and Ministry officials whirled around her as she sat on the edge of a hospital bed. She couldn't hear anything over the ringing in her ears, her eyes fixed straight ahead on the beds opposite her. She clung feebly to the mattress, her body threatening to keel over at any moment. Lack of sleep and the blood crusted onto her face made her eyelids hang heavy.
…
Three nights ago at the distillery, they'd managed to find Alice on the outskirts of the property searching desperately for her husband. Frank had been taken first.
The search continued through the night. No resource at the auror office was spared, and despite Mad-Eye's admonition, Emmeline was kept in the field to assist with the search.
Yesterday morning, Alice was taken after straying too far from the rest of her search party.
Finally, Mad-Eye had tracked them down; to the catacombs of a burial plot owned by the Lestrange family. He'd held onto hope that, because they hadn't found their bodies, the Longbottoms might've still been alive.
They could hear Alice's screams as they burst into the mausoleum and ran down into the crypt.
Rabastan and Rodolphus Lestrange were waiting at the entrance to the chamber to hold off the aurors while Bellatrix continued her assault on Alice. A fourth, masked death eater guarded her while she carried out the torture. Frank sat slumped at the opposite end of the chamber against a wall of skulls. His eyes were vacant.
Since the aurors ahead of her had already engaged them, Emmeline was able to dash past Rabastan and Rodolphus - only to be met face-to-face with the masked death eater.
"EXPELI-"
"EXPULSO!"
A great blue light sent her flying head-first into the black marble wall flanking the chamber. She landed crumpled on her side with blood trickling down her face as a splitting pain erupted from her scalp. Disoriented, she propped herself up off the ground. McCoy and Kingsley Shacklebolt had run in behind her and were now dueling the masked death eater, leaving Bellatrix wide open. Though her head was throbbing, Emmeline saw her chance and took it.
"INCARCEROUS!"
Bellatrix dropped her wand as cords bound her hands behind her back. Before she could even turn to face her opponent, Emmeline barreled towards her and knocked her to the ground near the opposite wall.
She pinned Bellatrix to the floor underneath herself and fought to hold her down, roaring gutturally while the death eater writhed and screamed below. In her left hand, she gripped Bellatrix's throat, but in her right, her wand was poised to kill.
Everything felt as though it was moving around her in slow motion. Moody, Dawlish, and Scrimgeour were battling Rabastan and Rodolphus. McCoy had taken on the fourth death eater. Kingsley was hunched over Alice. Everyone was shouting - amid the commotion, nobody was there to stop her.
"CRUCIO!"
Bellatrix's back arched so forcefully from the blood curdling shriek she let out that Emmeline had to use both hands to hold her down. She'd never cast a cruciatus curse before.
It felt good.
She wasn't sure how much time she had before Moody inevitably intervened, so she lifted the cruciatus, planning to exchange it with another, more permanent unforgivable curse.
Emmeline raised her wand again,
but hesitated.
She had Bellatrix in her clutches, shoving her into the floor so forcefully that her wails started coming out as choked, shallow grunts. She'd fantasized about this very scenario during training - Bellatrix in her grasp like this. She could forgo the killing curse altogether. Killing Bellatrix Lestrange with her bare hands would be so, so satisfying. Her life meant nothing to Emmeline. She wanted to kill her; she knew she did.
But in that moment, the vengeful fantasies dissipated, and all she could picture was Lily's face.
Frustrated tears threatened the corners of Emmeline's eyes. Whether they came from her bloodthirst or cowardice or both, she did not know.
To Emmeline's amazement, Bellatrix ceased her fighting and spitting…
…and began to cry silently too.
They stared at each other wordlessly for what felt like a long time.
"They took my Lord from me," Bellatrix muttered, tears still streaming down her cheeks. Then, seemingly out of nowhere, she began to chuckle darkly. The chuckles crescendoed until she was cackling so hard, it sounded like screeching. "So I took them from you!"
She laughed - because perhaps Voldemort was gone, but so was nearly everyone Emmeline cared about.
Emmeline stared wide-eyed as Bellatrix screamed with laughter, beginning to feel sick to her stomach. A drop of blood from her split scalp fell near the corner of Bellatrix' mouth, and she watched in horror as Bellatrix lapped it up with her tongue.
"VANCE!" Mad-Eye called from somewhere in the chamber. But before he could reach her-
"Incarcerous!" Finally coming to her senses, Emmeline conjured the full spell to bind Bellatrix's body with ropes and scuttled off of her, breathing hard as she rose to her knees.
For a moment, Emmeline had looked Bellatrix Lestrange in the eye and seen her own reflection staring back at her. Nothing had ever terrified her more.
"They're alive," Kingsley called out from where Frank sat; but his voice came out strange.
"I need two of you to transport them to St. Mungo's immediately!" Mad-Eye responded decisively. "The rest of you - with me. We'll deliver the scum to the Ministry."
Emmeline stood unsteadily and swiveled around. Rabastan lay petrified, Rodolphus was suspended unconscious in midair, and the fourth death eater lay bound in ropes like Bellatrix.
Mad-Eye must've noticed her bloodied face. "Vance, take Alice to the hospital and see to your head."
"Yes sir," she murmured obediently, daring one more nauseated glance back at Bellatrix as she trotted toward Alice.
"Mad-Eye! Get over here!" called McCoy, having unmasked the fourth death eater.
Moody hobbled towards them, his pace slowing when he realized. "Merlin have mercy," he breathed. "...McCoy, I need you to arrive ahead and alert Bartemius," he bade her. "I think he'll find his son's missing."
Every other auror spun around to look at the boy's face with their mouths agape. That was a bombshell that Emmeline would undoubtedly have to help deal with later. For now, she was focused solely on Alice and Frank.
She dropped to her knees next to where Alice lay on the floor of the chamber "Alice," she called her name lovingly, gently shaking her shoulders. "Don't worry, we've got you."
Alice could form no response as she stared emptily at the ceiling above her. Drool began to creep out of the corner of her mouth.
"...Alice?" Emmline called again, shaking her shoulders a bit harder. Panic started to set in. "C'mon Alice, it's me. It's Emmeline. Wake up."
With his suspicions confirmed after examining Frank, Kingsley got up and strode to Emmeline. "I don't think they can apparate, we'll have to take brooms or find somewhere we can floo."
"What's the matter with them?" she asked, rising to her feet.
Kingsley swallowed his devastation. "I think…I hope I'm wrong, but I think they're gone," he whispered.
Emmeline blinked, then looked from Alice to Frank. "What do you mean gone?" She dashed to Frank with more urgency, but he was in the same condition as his wife.
"If they were subjected to the cruciatus curse for this long-"
His sentence was cut off by a piercing howl of laughter from Bellatrix.
…
Every available healer had been huddled around Alice and Frank's beds for some time; either conducting tests, casting various healing spells, or darting about looking for potion ingredients. At one point, someone noticed Emmeline's bloodied visage and mended the gash on her scalp with a swift charm, but didn't have time to clean the blood from her face and hair. Kingsley had sulked home. Alastor had come and gone as well, too angry to sit and watch the Longbottoms lay there as the husks of their former selves, and too angry to go home. He went back to the Ministry to begin the process of prosecuting the four death eaters. Emmeline was free to go, but she remained staring at the beds across the way anyway.
Over the course of the night, the multitudes of healers trickled out of the wing one by one, trudging out sadly or muttering amongst themselves in distressed whispers. Outside the window the morning was breaking, but the Longbottoms remained in their beds, practically catatonic.
Amid the ringing in her ears, Bellatrix's laughter clanged in Emmeline's head.
On the inside, Alice and Frank were gone; only their shells remained. And judging by the demeanor of the healers, the prognosis was bleak.
"Miss?"
Emmeline turned wearily to face a young healer who ogled at the state of her.
"There's a gentleman in the waiting room asking for you."
…
Remus came running (though still limping) when she rounded the corner, halting when he got a good look at her face. For the time being, the numbness was out with the tide, and he wanted to erupt at her for the panic she'd caused him; but when he saw the blood and how defeated she looked, his anger subsided to vexed concern. "What happened? Are you alright?" he asked in a steady voice.
Emmeline didn't answer his question. "I'm sorry I didn't send word," she mumbled in a monotone, her eyes unable to focus on him.
"I didn't see you for three days and Alastor wasn't answering any of my messages, it wasn't until the hospital sent an owl-"
"Alice and Frank…" she interrupted him but trailed off, unsure of how to describe what had become of them.
"I saw in the Prophet, have you found them? Are they-..." Remus' eyes widened. "...Oh Merlin, are they…?"
"They're not-...they're alive, but they're not…they're gone." She fumbled for the right words.
"...What?"
…
Remus followed her down the hallway and into the wing where Alice and Frank lay, staring blankly around themselves from their cots. He expected one of them to recognize or greet him, but they did not.
"They were tortured with the cruciatus curse…we don't exactly know how long…" Emmeline said bleakly, but matter-of-factly. "I don't think the healers can fix it."
As he looked the Longbottoms over, he searched for some signs that their old selves were still clinging on. He didn't know whether it would be wise to approach them or not, but did so anyway. Gingerly, he took a few steps forward to Frank's cot and took his hand. Frank did not reciprocate, and instead, his hand hung limp in Remus' grasp. He didn't even so much as turn his gaze.
"This is…this is…" Remus searched for the words, but none came to him, and he found himself blinking away frustrated tears. Everyone was going about how they'd won the war. It was supposed to be over. And yet here he was, losing two more friends to the fallout.
He knew what it felt like to be trapped within your own body. Death might've been more merciful than this; at least their souls would've been free from this plane of existence. But this…
"It was the Lestranges, and Crouch's son. They're awaiting trial." Emmeline explained from behind him in that same deadened, hopeless voice.
A grouping of footsteps came clunking into the ward behind them. By the time Emmeline turned, the cameras were already flashing.
"Daily Prophet," barked one of the reporters, as if this should give him unrestricted access to their bedsides. "Could the two of you just stand aside so we could-"
Emmeline's weariness snapped into seething fury. "Get AWAY FROM THEM-"
Remus lunged for her. "Em-" but she'd already drawn her wand.
"What do you think you're-"
"Alarte Ascendare!"
She launched one of the reporters' cameras up out of their grasp and let it smash to the ground in the middle of the group. They all staggered back, shouting.
"Are you crazy?!"
"Someone call security!"
"I said get away from them-"
"Emmeline, don't-"
She shoved Remus off.
One of the reporters got in her face. "You've just made a huge mistake-"
"Oh yeah? What are you gonna do? Call the auror office?" she sneered, flashing her Ministry badge.
"This is destruction of property!"
"Where is security?"
Emmeline flicked her wand and the curtains around the Longbottoms flew closed. She then pointed it back at the group of reporters.
"THEY CAN'T GIVE THEIR PERMISSION!" she bellowed in a voice Remus had never heard come out of her before. "You cannot take their pictures without their consent if they can't give it. Get. the hell. OUT."
The reporters stood there, staring at her as if she were a filthy, wild animal. Even Remus kept his distance, stunned. He didn't think he'd ever seen her so vicious.
"Or shall I sacrifice another camera?" she taunted.
Just then another pair of footsteps clicked in behind the group of reporters, and soon a regal looking witch in a velvet coat came alongside Emmeline, clutching a red handbag.
"Well? Are all your ears clogged? You heard the girl! Out with you!"
"Who's this now?" muttered one of the reporters.
"As their next of kin, I do not consent to them being photographed. Out!"
After a tense moment, the reporters skittered away. The one who'd antagonized her pointed a menacing finger at Emmeline. "Don't think I won't be calling your superiors."
She spat in his direction. He stormed out, flabbergasted.
The witch in the velvet coat turned to her, placing a hand on her arm. "Thank you," she whispered, her wise eyes brimming with tears.
Emmeline had never met the woman, but made some guesses as to who she was talking to, nodding a "you're welcome."
"Might I visit them, alone?" she asked, motioning to the closed curtains.
Emmeline nodded again, and Remus followed her as she walked out of the ward, nodding sympathetically to Augusta Longbottom as he passed.
"I need to go to the Ministry to arrange some sort of security," Emmeline started as Remus caught up to her.
"I think you should come home and rest."
"I can't, I've got to talk to Mad-Eye-" She was already turning the corner to apparate away, but he caught her arm.
"After that display I don't think any reporters will try to come back in the time it takes you to send a patronus, or even an owl." He loosened his grip and walked around to face her. "Please, your face…"
She was too tired to argue.