TW: This story discusses topics such as suicide and sexual assault.
"You're late, Weasley."
Arthur Weasley stopped a moment to catch his breath in the middle of the hallway of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, clutching at the heavy stack of papers that threatened to collapse from his grip at any moment. Across from Arthur stood Bartemius Crouch, characteristic scowl etched across his face, and Alastor Moody, whose eyes were glancing at Arthur's stack of papers with amusement.
"Sorry, Mr. Crouch," panted Arthur. "I wanted to make sure I had everything we needed. Quadruple-checking everything—you know how it is. Don't want to be caught unprepared or to have anything go wrong on this one because of a technicality." He laughed weakly.
"No, we don't," Moody replied before Crouch could. "Far as I'm concerned, it's worth losing a few extra minutes instead of losing the whole case we're building up. 'Course, I don't expect Malfoy to go down quietly or without peddling his usual bullshit, and you shouldn't either. But we're further along today than we were last week, that's for damn sure."
The possibility of actually pinning down the infamous Lucius Malfoy as a Death Eater filled Arthur with jittery elation. It sounded too good to be true (And if things seem too good to be true, they usually are, Moody's grim voice echoed in his head). The fact he, of all people, was asked by Crouch to help build the case made it seem even more unbelievable. This could be a story to tell my kids one day.
"I would caution both of you," interjected Crouch, "to remember that the crux of our case hinges on a Muggle's testimony."
Moody scoffed. "That's an insult if I ever heard one. Aurors practically took the Acheron apart brick by brick. We found more than enough evidence of how these Death Eaters got their jollies."
Arthur winced. After reading the stomach-churning reports a couple days ago, he immediately went and hugged his wife and sons for a long, long time.
The Acheron was one of the Lestranges' estates, and perhaps the most elusive, even before Voldemort's rise. Rumors have always abounded of the sick and perverse nature of what went on in that seaside mansion. And now—if all went well—they'd be able to definitively tie Lucius Malfoy to the Acheron and its brutality.
"Yes, Scrimgoeur informed me. But evidence that ill-natured events occurred is different from evidence that Lucius Malfoy himself was involved. The only 'evidence' we have of his connection is this girl's statement. And you should know by now that Muggle testimony is often regarded by the Wizengamot as tenuous, to say the least, partly due to the…limited amount of means we have in order to glean the information."
When he said "limited," Crouch's hard eyes flickered to Arthur and narrowed slightly. To his credit, Arthur maintained a neutral expression. The mind and body of an average Muggle typically reacted poorly to magic and potions. The Ministry frequently Obliviated Muggles out of necessity—which sometimes had the unfortunate and unintentional result of causing permanent alterations to the Muggle's brain—-but drew the line when it came to most other spells. Using magic to forcibly extract a Muggle's memories often led the Muggle to become catatonic or with a severely diminished mental capacity, and using legilimency to probe deeply beyond surface thoughts could result in similar fates. Veritaserum made them violently (and potentially fatally) sick. One of Arthur's first actions after getting his position in the Ministry was to advocate for a stop to these practices on Muggles, eventually resulting in a bill that significantly narrowed the scope of what wizards were legally able to do to them, which made him an enemy of many purebloods. Crouch, apparently, had not forgotten.
"I'll conduct this interview as thoroughly as I'm legally able to," Crouch continued, "but I expect both of you to remember your roles when we enter the room and remain firmly within your boundaries. I'll be the one asking the appropriate questions about the allegations themselves; you two only discuss points related directly to your respective positions."
"Yeah, yeah," grumbled Moody. "So you've told us. About as many times as you reminded us that this testimony will probably go nowhere, actually."
Crouch gave an exasperated sigh. "This department is extremely busy now, as you very well know, and we're stretched thin as it is. I believe in the validity of this girl's recollection, but I'm also aware that issues of practicality should be considered as well, and we need to pick and choose which leads to pursue. I truly hope I'm wrong and this yields desirable results, Alastor. I really do. "
"Hmph." Moody nodded his head slightly. "Well, guess there's no use standing around talking about it. She's right through this door." He gestured towards the blue door a bit further down the hallway. The men walked towards it and entered.
Inside the room was a table that looked much larger than it actually was, as there was only one person sitting down: a small, pale young woman with long, slightly disheveled black hair, and a guarded expression in her blue eyes. She was wearing a sundress that had some small tears, and was holding a teacup given to her by the healers that was mostly empty, though it was evident that it had been cold for a long time.
Arthur was struck by how young she looked; surely she couldn't be any older than Lily and James Potter. He remembered reading in the report that she was found with some bruising in various locations on her body, though the healers had taken care of that. They did not, however, provide her with new clothes, which Arthur thought was an insensitive oversight; the room was freezing, and the poor girl was shivering slightly. The three men approached the chairs across from the young woman, and as they were getting seated, some of Arthur's papers fell on the ground. As he leaned underneath the table, Arthur surreptitiously took his wand from out of his jacket and cast a silent heating spell, which warmed the room slightly. As he returned to his seat, Crouch gave Arthur a withering look—not even a minute in, and Arthur already went against Crouch's orders. Oh well.
The men looked at the young woman: Crouch and Moody expressionless, Arthur giving a smile that went unreturned. As Crouch's notebook and quill began to float in midair to take notes, the woman eyed it warily, gripping her teacup more forcefully.
"Miss White?" Crouch began. "I'm Bartemius Crouch, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. These two gentlemen with me are Alastor Moody, Auror, and Arthur Weasley of the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office. We're speaking with you today in order to inquire about your alleged encounter with the Death Eaters, as well as a potential unauthorized Portkey—excuse me, is there a problem?"
Her hand was raised slightly in the air, and she was biting her lip. "Um, yes. I-I'm sorry," she said, sitting up a bit straighter. "It's just…I have no idea what the hell is even going on right now. I didn't understand anything you said after 'Crouch.'"
The quill stopped writing. Moody gritted his teeth and looked at Crouch like Crouch was an idiot, while Crouch himself was staring at the girl with furrowed brows.
"What Mr. Crouch is trying to say," Arthur blurted out in an attempt to be helpful, "is that we're wizards that work for the Ministry of Magic, which is like the Parliament of our world. The wizards that hurt you are breaking the law, and we want to catch them and bring them to justice."
"Ok…" said the girl slowly, pausing for several seconds as she took a sip of her cold tea. "I guess that makes sense. I still don't understand some of the words you mentioned though."
"Don't worry, Miss White. Those terms aren't important right now, and if you need to know them later, we'll explain them at that time."
The girl's cautious gaze rested on Arthur, looking him up and down. He knew that she was understandably uncomfortable. On impulse (and at the risk of making himself look like an idiot), Arthur decided to do something that he usually reserved for his children. "After all, it would be very unusual if you somehow knew the terms specific to our way of life. Why, I frequently find myself baffled by Muggle inventions all the time! The fellytone, for example. Using electrickacy to talk across long distances is truly extraordinary!"
Sarah looked at him in bewilderment before it dawned on her what Arthur meant. Her expression grew slightly more relaxed, and for the first time he saw Sarah White give a tentative smile. "The invention you're talking about…they're, um, called telephones, actually."
"Ah! Well, I was close. Next you'll be telling me that the machines that bring people up and down the stairs aren't called escapators."
Sarah giggled softly. Of course, Arthur knew Muggle inventions and technology perfectly well; he'd be terrible at his job if he didn't. But acting ignorant for comedic effect usually resulted in younger people feeling more at ease, and he wanted Sarah to realize that the men in this room weren't the enemy.
"Maybe Arthur should have your job, Crouch," Moody muttered, not able to keep quiet any longer. Crouch closed his eyes for a few seconds and rubbed his temples.
"I made the introduction for the clarity and sake of the record…" he muttered through gritted teeth, opening his eyes and gesturing toward the floating notebook. "If we could focus on the task at hand and remember our assigned roles, gentlemen?" He turned to the girl. "Miss White, as Mr. Weasley stated, our objective is to identify the perpetrators of the crime you say was committed against you. We'd like to get a more detailed understanding of what transpired. Can you please start off by introducing yourself and explaining what your business was at the location?"
"Ok," the girl mumbled, smiling fading. She looked into her teacup and began to speak softly and without much emotion. "My name is Sarah White. I'm nineteen and I-I'm a university student studying art. I was at the Black Rose that night because Julie–" Sarah swallowed as tears welled up in her eyes. "Julie thinks—thought—that it would be a good idea to put myself in more social situations. I'm a bit…shy, I guess, and don't really have many friends besides her. She thought that going out might help me meet new people. Maybe even some nice blokes…"
Eyes growing numb, Sarah stopped talking and started absentmindedly tracing the cup with her fingers. Arthur felt another pang of pity. Crouch flipped through Arthur's stack of papers, frowning. "This Julie…you're referring to Julie Williams, correct? The other girl who arrived at the mansion with you?" Arthur cringed inwardly at Crouch's brusque manner. Sarah nodded.
"Sh-she was dating another student named David, David Brown, who did part-time work as a magician. Illusions, card and rope tricks, handcuffs, those sorts of things. She's studying theatre and sometimes acted as his assistant when he would do shows at the Black Rose."
For a brief second, Crouch's lip curled in distaste before quickly going back to his expression of impassivity. Muggle perception of magic was always a source of mockery and derision from pureblood circles. The more extreme even found muggle "magic" to be an insult towards wizarding kind, an offense on the level of a stranger spitting in the face of a loved one. Arthur could see why this location in particular was targeted.
"And it was during this performance that you encountered the two men who would lure you out of this establishment, correct?" Crouch pressed.
"I don't know if 'encounter' would be the right word…I noticed them there, though. They were standing near the back, just watching with these intense expressions. At the time, I wasn't sure if they were really into the performance or hated it. They didn't clap or cheer, but would laugh at odd moments. I remember wondering if they were talent scouts or even security or something. They just carried themselves differently from everyone else there."
"Can you describe what these men looked like?" asked Moody.
"One had black hair that went down to his shoulders. He had dark eyes and a short beard, and seemed tall and a bit bulky. The other was a redhaired man with shorter hair and a small scar on his cheek, right underneath his eye." Nerves and excitement flickered in Arthur as him and Moody exchanged glances. Rodolphus and Rabastan.
"What happened then, Miss White?" Crouch asked.
"After the show was over, the audience started leaving. I went backstage to talk to Julie and David for a while, and we decided to go to a pub afterwards. When we came out, we saw the men in the lobby. There are always stragglers after a performance, so it wasn't really surprising to see them still staying. I honestly didn't even think much of it, since there were other people around in the lobby too. When I went to double-check that I had my ID, I realized I left my handbag in the dressing room. After I went to get it, I returned to the lobby and saw that Julie and David were gone. The two other men were gone too. There was another woman in the lobby, so I asked her where they went, and she said she saw the men talking with my friends, and then Julie and David followed them outside."
"Longbottom already spoke with the straggler she's referring to," Moody said, turning to Crouch. "The Lestranges'-"
"The men," interrupted Crouch. "It would be prudent to avoid assumptions until all facts get brought to light in the court of law." He gestured subtly to the notetaking quill. Moody rolled his eyes.
"Alright. The 'men'-who happen to look identical to the Lestrange brothers, imagine that–were reported by the witness, Alison Shen, to have asked the victims to come outside with them. When the couple seemed to realize what a terrible idea that was and said they wouldn't, the men took out 'sticks from their jackets'-according to Shen–and said something, causing the victims to follow them outside without protest. Likely the Imperius, which tracks with what happened later, but wouldn't want to go 'making assumptions' or anything."
Arthur was aware that his part was coming up soon. He looked at the girl ahead of him, who was looking at Moody with uncertainty.
"Miss White, is there anything else you'd like to add?" asked Arthur kindly.
"Yes…" she said. She hesitated. "T-the men. I found out their names later. They were Rodolphus and Rabastan."
The three men glanced at each other. While Sarah described multiple Death Eaters in the initial report, the only one she mentioned by name was Lucius Malfoy. And while Rabastan and Rodolphus's involvement with a property that they own is no surprise, it led to the possibility that Sarah knew the names of a lot more Death Eaters than she let on in the initial report. Could we really be this lucky? Arthur immediately admonished himself for the thought. Nothing about this was "lucky." They might be able to pin down the Death Eaters, but what the Muggles had to endure, well, it never should have come to that. Arthur wouldn't wish that fate on his worst enemy.
"How do you know those were their names?" questioned Crouch.
Sarah shrugged meekly. "I was there for three months…they were there often. It would have been hard not to know. All the people—Death Eaters, I think you called them earlier—they referred to each other by name. I needed to know who was who, in case I was told to, um, go to one."
They didn't keep their names secret because they didn't expect any of the Muggles to live and speak with us about it. Arthur figured this would be a good time for him to start talking. "So, Miss White, it says in the initial report that you went down the road and saw them entering a felly–er, I mean to say–telephone box. Can you please tell us more about that?"
"Ok. Um. Well, I thought it was weird because all four of them were entering, and those things aren't that big. I saw them in the distance and then they were just…gone. I couldn't see them anymore."
"Did you see them touching anything before they vanished?" asked Arthur.
"At the time, no, but I'm pretty sure I know what it was–"
"We'll get there momentarily, Miss White," interrupted Crouch. "But at that specific moment, you did not see your companions or the two men touch anything, correct?"
"That's right. But it did look like they were huddling around something."
"And can you tell us what happened after?" Sarah's eyes fell back to her teacup as she bit her lip. Not for the first time, Arthur wished there was a way to get this information without forcing this poor girl to relive what was perhaps her darkest moment.
"You can take your time if you need to, Miss White." Crouch shot Arthur a look; they didn't have the luxury of time.
"When I saw them disappear, I rushed towards the box," Sarah continued slowly. "I looked inside, and it was empty. I started panicking, and walked back out, wondering if I missed something. I started making my way back to the Black Rose because I saw that the rest of the stragglers from the show were leaving the building, and I wanted to see if they knew anything else. Then, I heard movement and looked back."
"Did you hear any unusual sound when you looked back, like a popping sound?" asked Arthur, trying to determine if they apparated or used a Portkey.
"I didn't hear anything. I wouldn't have even known that he was there, if he didn't open the door." Portkey it is then. And one that Rabastan seemed experienced with using, at that. "So as I'm sure you know, the redhaired man—Rabastan— was there, in the telephone box. And like an idiot, I ran back towards him, asking about Julie and David. He seemed surprised to see me, but didn't look nervous and was smiling, so I wasn't as scared as I should have been. He said that his brother wanted to talk with them because had some experience with magic himself and wanted t-to 'show David his own magic tricks.'" She trailed off, tears forming her eyes again, which she tried to blink away. "But then he told me Julie and David said they were planning to go to the Grey Wolf instead–-that's the name of the pub we were planning to go to. I believed him because I didn't think there was any way he could have known about that detail unless one of my friends told him, but he probably used magic or something to figure it out, right?"
"It is a possibility. Did he mention anything about how they vanished?" Crouch asked neutrally. Sarah frowned.
"I'm…I'm actually not sure. I know I definitely asked about it, but it's cloudy when I try to remember exactly what he said. Whatever excuse he gave made me feel like I was the unreasonable one for asking, and that there was a logical explanation for them disappearing in thin air." Another glance was exchanged between Moody and Arthur. So it seems like Rabastan attempted some kind of low level memory charm then. "And because he was so nice and understanding to put up with my questions," she gave a hollow laugh, "I took his advice when he told me that I could call the pub and have them be on the look out for Julie and David. I only had my credit card and didn't have change for the payphone, so when he offered me his coin, I didn't think twice about it." Sarah's eyes started to water and Arthur shifted uncomfortably. "He dropped it in my hand, and that–that's when it all started. The world started spinning and everything seemed really loud and then…then I was someplace I've never been before. It looked like the basement of an old, decrepit building. I knew it was by the ocean because I could faintly smell it."
"Thank you, Miss White. Telling us all this takes a lot of courage, and I know this can't be easy," Arthur smiled at her again, and was pleased to see Sarah give him a small, tentative smile in return. He turned to Crouch and Moody. "Based on the testimony here, the coin was definitely the item enchanted to be a Portkey, and I believe it was the same portkey that was used in the other Muggle disappearances in the area within the past few months. If Rabastan—er, the redhaired man—" Arthur sputtered as he saw Crouch's irritated expression, "wanted a Muggle, all he would need to do was hand him a coin. Or even easier, just leave the enchanted coin right next to the telephone. If a Muggle wanted to speak with someone over a long distance, he would naturally reach towards the coin and get teleported to the designated location. I'll bet that the Death Eaters enchanted Miss Williams and Mr. Brown to touch the coin so they all would be transported together. The…redhaired man probably used to portkey to return in order to place the coin back in the box and re-enchant it."
Crouch looked thoroughly unimpressed, as this conclusion was fairly obvious to anyone who read the initial report and had a basic understanding of how Portkeys worked. But the Ministry needed someone from Arthur's department to be present in order to legally check off the boxes, so here he was. "I'll reiterate that it's important for all Ministry officials present to keep speculation to a minimum, please. Miss White, tell us what occurred after you arrived at the destination."
Sarah shifted in her seat uncomfortably, crossing her arms over the table. "I heard people talking and laughing upstairs, so I went up, because it didn't even occur to me that this was some kind of elaborate torture plot; I was just terrified, confused, and wanted to see where the hell I was. When I got to the top my first thought was that it was some kind of satanic ritual—I've read about those in newspapers, you know. There was this group of people—mostly men— in black robes, and David and Julie were just kneeling down in front of them. It was like a scene out of a horror film, except it was all real." A tear finally escaped from her eyes. Moody flipped through the stack of papers and placed a few that had photographs of possible Death Eaters down on the table in front of Sarah. She gasped and lurched back slightly. "Are-are they trapped inside the paper?" she asked, aghast. Arthur thought about how odd it must be to live in a world where photographs stayed still.
"Sadly, no. You said you saw a group of people. Are any of the men you saw in these pictures?" Moody asked brusquely. Sarah scanned over the images and paused, before pointing. Rodolphus and Rabastan Lestrange, Bellatrix Lestrange (Of course she's involved…) Elden Mulciber (Not that surprising), Acrisius Nott and Desmond Avery (These aren't either, but it's nice to finally get proof), Calder Wilkes (Now that one's a surprise) and then, finally, Lucius Malfoy (Finally got you, you slippery bastard). Her eyes remained on Malfoy's picture as her hand withdrew, before curling her fingers into her palms and biting her lip. Crouch said the names out loud for the enchanted quill before asking Sarah to continue, who looked as though she wished she were anywhere but here.
"When I saw Julie and David I called out to them like a moron, and the people in robes saw me and started laughing and mocking and generally acting like arseholes. I heard this popping sound and then Rabastan showed up. Lucius then did a spell on me and I couldn't move or say anything." She paused and then added in, almost as an afterthought: "That was the first spell he used on me. The first spell anyone ever used on me."
She stopped talking and she started fidgeting absentmindedly with the hem of her dress nervously, eyes clouded over. Crouch cleared his throat and she looked up, startled.
"S-sorry. Rodolphus did something with his wand and Julie and David woke up and started freaking out, asking what the fuck was going on and then Julie started crying and then she started having trouble breathing and started begging and all those fuckers just thought it was the funniest thing ever. I wanted to help her but I was completely helpless. I could talk but I couldn't move. They just wanted me to watch," Tears were flowing freely from Sarah at this point.
"Describe the spells these men used on Mr. Brown and Miss Williams," said Crouch, "and if you can remember, please tell us which individual from the photographs cast which spells."
"Ok. Well, um, Rodolphus and Rabastan used the pain curse on both of them."
Moody looked up. "You call it 'the' pain curse. Why do you call it that?"
"Well, I mean, there are other curses that cause pain, but there's only one like that. It's the one where it feels like you're getting stabbed by thousands of fiery daggers at once. I had it used on me, so that's how I know."
Obviously the Cruciatus. Moody must have thought so too, because he pushed the papers in front of Sarah and asked her to identify anyone else who cast the curse. She looked at Moody with a wry expression. "I was there for three months. Every single person there used it on me, most doing it more than once."
"What about Malfoy? How many times did he use it?" Moody asked. Lucius was their prime target, after all.
Sarah's expression became blank. "I don't remember."
"Could you give an estimate?"
"No."
Moody blinked. Sarah seemed startled at her own bluntness and swallowed before elaborating, "It…it's hard to describe what it was like, staying there for three months. It's hard to remember details like that. He used it in the first month, but not too much after that. So I guess, compared to the others, it was like a…medium amount? Medium-low amount? Actually, for that particular spell, it was probably more on the lower end, compared to the others. That awful bitch Bellatrix was the worst. God, I hated her so much. The Lestrange brothers, Elden Mulciber, and Acrisius Nott, were all really awful too. Oh, and Wilkes. Those were the ones who used it most often."
Crouch nodded as the floating quill continued to write rapidly. "Please continue your testimony, Miss White."
"Ok. So, Wilkes did a spell where David couldn't talk anymore, and then Nott used on Julie the same spell that caused me to be paralyzed. And then Mulciber used the mind control spell on David."
The Imperius. Moody asked the same question he did last time with the Cruciatus, and Sarah gave the same answer: Everyone in the Acheron used the Imperius at least once.
"And Malfoy?" asked Moody.
"Why do you keep asking about Lucius?" she asked, frowning. "I thought the goal was to get everyone involved caught."
Moody raised an eyebrow. "Well, considerin' he was the one you kept going on about when the Aurors rescued you, I thought you'd have a lot to say about him."
She seemed to shrink back in her seat. "He only used it once," Sarah mumbled. She did not elaborate. Once is still enough to get a one-way trip to Azkaban.
"Did you see the Death Eaters use the Imperius—the mind control curse—on Malfoy?" Moody asked.
"What? Why would—-no. No, I never saw that."
Arthur didn't bother hiding his grin. Moody pressed on, "How did Malfoy act? At any point in those three months, did he ever seem in a daze? Was there anything that led you to believe that he wasn't in control of his actions?"
Sarah seemed startled by the question. "N-no, he never seemed to be in a daze…I don't think anyone was controlling his mind, if that's what you're asking. I've seen what it looks like when people are under control by magic, and Lucius never acted like that. He always seemed like himself."
Moody seemed to be appraising Sarah closely, then mentioned something that Arthur was wondering about too. "Interesting you call him Lucius and the others by their surnames."
The comment seemed to spark something in Sarah, as she sat up straighter and looked Moody directly in the eye, which was by no means an easy task. Her voice was even as she asked, "What are you trying to say, exactly?"
It was a tense few seconds. Then, Moody raised up both his hands in a gesture of peace. "Easy there, kid. I just thought it was odd that you'd be on first-name basis with one of the wizarding bigwigs."
"It-it's not like that," she muttered in frustration. "I mentioned Rabastan, Rodolphus, and Bellatrix by their first names too, but you didn't make a big deal out of that."
Moody shrugged. "All three have the same surname. It would've been confusing otherwise."
"I think we've had enough of this digression," Crouch cut in, giving Moody a look of warning. "Miss White, please continue."
"Right, so, where I last left off…I think I said Mulciber—I'm sorry, Elden—- used the mind control spell. And then—" the previous fire dimmed from her eyes, "then, he used David to…to do things. To hurt Julie. Over and over again. I-I'm really not going to get into it, it's already in that first report, right?"
Crouch nodded, and Julie continued. "Um, so, near the end Julie just stopped crying and moving and I think everyone thought she was dead. And then David was released from control and he saw what happened to Julie and then started crying and saying he wouldn't live with himself. And then Bellatrix—that evil, evil woman—used the mind control spell again and had him take a knife from the desk and s-slit his throat. Then Avery noticed that Julie was still breathing and Rodolphus said that she would be his and Rabastan's pet. That's what they called us, 'pets.' Anything to dehumanize us. And then the brothers took her away."
She hesitated. "After that night, I….I saw Julie a few times. We weren't allowed to interact, but I did see her. At first, she looked miserable but physically, she seemed intact. The next time, she seemed a bit worse. And then I saw her again a week after that and she was much worse. And then I didn't see her at all. S-she's dead, right?"
"Yes, Miss White. Miss Williams died three weeks after your arrival." Crouch wisely left out the details of the conditions of the body, and what the Lestrange brothers put her fact that a body was even found was noticeable–-the Acheron had a pit where they would be thrown after their death. According to Scrimgoeur, the Aurors suspected that they were planning on having them become Inferi. How do some people become so morally bankrupt? "Now, I'm aware that the next part may cause some discomfort, but in order for us to build a case against these individuals who hurt you, we need you to tell us what happened."
Sarah's expression became blank again. "There's not much to say, really. They didn't plan on me being there, so they didn't know what to do with me. Lucius said they should just kill me, but Nott said that would be a waste." She shivered and clutched at her arms with white fingers. "It was decided that I would become one of the 'pets,' one of the slaves that lived in the house to be used and tortured and experimented on by these—these Death Eaters. Then it became another big argument about who would get me. Since she had partial ownership of the estate, Bellatrix got to make the final decision and gave me to Lucius, since I think they're related somehow. The only one who didn't want me ended up getting me. He took me upstairs and then…yeah. That was the first time when….well, it should all be there in that report."
For the first time, Arthur became keenly aware that there were no other women in the room with them. We should have brought along Alice Longbottom, Arthur thought, annoyed. Crouch flipped through some papers frowning, and then asked, "So, am I to understand that the man you believe to be Lucius Malfoy was the only man who sexually assaulted you at Archeon?"
"No…I was with him the most though. The twisted way they set the whole thing up is that you're a slave to everyone in the estate, but the person who officially 'owns' you takes priority and sets the parameters for what others can do to you, or some other basic things. Regardless of how you're treated though, the end goal is always the same: Your owner has the Final Say in what happens to you. It's this whole big thing—I only saw it twice, with Helen and then with Ian—two Muggles who came in later. It's sick," she whispered, voice quivering. "And it's different every time, the way you die. It's like they compete to see who can come up with the most twisted, more horrifying way to end your life."
Moody rubbed his chin thoughtfully, looking nonplussed. I'll never understand how he can be exposed to these awful stories on a daily basis. "About how long would you say the Death Eaters kept the other Muggles?"
"I don't know, it changes based on who the owner is. Some were more…impulsive and the human assigned to them didn't last long. The average was maybe three weeks."
"And you lasted three months. Why's that?"
Sarah's eyes grew colder. "I don't know. Ask him when you arrest him."
"Well, you're in a better position to—"
Sarah stood up and glared at Moody, fists clenched. "I don't know what you want me to say. I'm not an idiot; I know what you're implying. And it's not true. Let me make this abundantly clear: I was raped. Lucius Malfoy raped me. All the other men in there raped me too. He hated me. All of them hated people—Muggles—like me. Everything at Archeon was all about power. Everything Lucius did was just meant to scare or humiliate or mess with my emotions. He's a vile, wicked, and cruel man, and anytime he acts charming or pleasant or kind, it's a facade. There were times when he'd make it so I'd almost forget where I was, but then it'd usually be accompanied by saying or doing something the next day or week that would make me want to die. I'm sure that was all part of the entertainment—-making me feel like…well, making me unsure about how I felt. Even now, I-I know he's awful, so I don't know why…." she trailed off, and a pained expression crossed her face. She swallowed before continuing. "In fact, that's probably why he kept me alive for so long. He wanted the smug satisfaction of seeing me die while being completely and totally in l-love with my rapist and murderer. Well, joke's on him, because t-that never happened. In fact, I'll be the one living a long, happy life, and he'll be dropping the soap in wizard jail. Did the flying notebook get all that?"
Crouch snapped his mouth shut and looked at the magic quill, which was still scratching furiously. "Yes, Miss White, we, er, we did," he finally said.
This poor kid… Arthur wanted to take her to the Burrow and have Molly cook her a hot, delicious meal. He side-eyed Moody, who—Arthur felt—was entirely out of line with his implications earlier.
Moody, on the other hand, looked completely unmoved. Arthur wasn't sure if he actually felt that way or if it was simply his Auror training, but nonetheless, Moody asked, ""Are you finished?"
Arthur and—yes—Crouch turned to look at Moody in utter disbelief. What a sad day it must be when even Barty Crouch thinks you're acting like an insensitive arse.
Sarah evidently thought so too, the way her mouth kept opening and closing, before sputtering out, "I don't know, are you?"
Moody studied her again for a moment, then actually gave a twitch of a smile. "Yeah, I am." He gestured for her to take a seat, which she slowly did in confusion. "I'm asking the most questions about Malfoy because he's the one who keeps slipping away from us., and we want to nail this bastard down."
Crouch gave a huff of protest; Ministry officials weren't supposed to seem biased or personally invested when speaking with witnesses. Sarah didn't seem to pick up on Crouch's annoyance and Moody outright ignored it. "I see….that makes sense," Sarah replied quietly.
"Did he use any memory spells?" asked Moody.
Sarah looked taken aback by the question. "What?"
"Do you know if he used any memory spells on you?"
Oh. Arthur understood where this was going. Sarah thought for a moment, then said, "Maybe. I'm not sure. I know sometimes he'd talk to me and I wouldn't remember the specifics of what he said afterwards." Arthur groaned inwardly; this line could come back to bite them. He glanced over at Moody, who seemed to think the same thing.
Crouch, regaining his composure and sense of control, asked, "How often did you see the man you believe to be Lucius Malfoy?"
"Every few days. Sometimes longer, sometimes shorter. He always made himself out to be this important person with a busy life, but I'm not sure how much of it was true and how much was bullshit. Clearly he had enough time to see me." She hesitated. "He allowed me to stay in a room in the house instead of the cellar where most other Muggles were kept, so whenever I wasn't 'entertaining' people, I went back there. A small creature would sometimes show up with food and water, but I don't know how he got in or out. It kind of looked human, but had bigger ears and was much shorter. It was wearing rags. "
"Do you know this creature's name?" asked Crouch, leaning closer. It had to be a house-elf, and if they could identify the name…
"No. I think it was told not to speak to me."
Damn. Well, it was worth a shot.
"Is there anything else you feel we should know?" Crouch asked.
Sarah paused, before telling them softly about Jane, Helen, Deborah, Ian, Jacqueline, Richard, and Paul, all of whom were other muggles who had the misfortune of being 'pets' to various Death Eaters and all died in different yet equally horrific ways before being tossed into the pit of potential Inferi. Some were there when she was first brought in, others arrived later, and Sarah tried her best to identify which Muggle 'belonged' to which Death Eater.
"Are you aware if the man you believe to be Mr. Malfoy was given ownership of any other muggle besides yourself?"
Sarah seemed to grow paler and bit her lip. "While I was there, it was just me. I know he had another person before me though. Her name was Caroline, and I think she was the only other one. I only know three things about her. I know his Final Say for her was especially brutal–don't know the specifics though—and that she had brown hair. I also know this dress," Sarah gestured to the flowered sundress she was wearing, "belonged to her. He would get really mad if I—or anyone else—asked questions about or mentioned her. I don't know how long ago she died."
"When was the last time you and the man you believe to be Mr. Malfoy spoke?"
"Um, about two days before the wizard police raided the estate, I guess. I-I don't really remember much about what happened then. He and I—um, well, it was just kind of what normally happens and then afterwards he told me something but I forget what. I think…I think he said that it was going to end soon. He really was planning on killing me, I guess….is it weird that I'm kind of curious about how he wanted me to die?"
"Some things are better off not knowing," Moody said gruffly.
"Yeah, you're right. Especially considering Caroline—-well, it doesn't even matter now, anyway. The wizard police showed up two days later and asked me questions. That's when I showed them the pit and they wrote that first report. I don't remember what happened after that, but I woke up in some kind of hospital and a new person came in to ask me more questions, and he said I was going to speak with all of you tomorrow. They brought me into this room, and then you came in and that's basically the whole story."
It was at this point that the men began to ask more questions. Arthur only inquired about what happened to the coin, which Sarah replied fell out of her hand when she was transported to the mansion, and had no idea where it was now. Crouch and Moody asked her several more uncomfortable specifics about her treatment at the hands of the different Death Eaters, which she answered emotionlessly. They asked a few other questions about the Acheron itself, the results of which led to dead ends or didn't reveal anything they didn't know already. Arthur glanced at the clock; it would be over soon anyway.
"Well, Miss White," said Mr. Crouch, standing up. Arthur started gathering the papers in a pile. "This is the end of our questions. We'd like to thank you for your cooperation." Sarah stood up too.
"I-I'm glad I could help. At least there was some kind of silvering lining to all of this...you will catch him right? All of them?"
"We're going to damn well try, that's for sure," muttered Moody, giving Sarah a brief nod.
Arthur couldn't help blurting out, "I'm sorry you had to go through all this, Miss White. The men you saw…they don't represent all wizards. There are plenty of us who believe in morals and basic decency. The upside is, you won't have to think about this anymore."
A puzzled expression came over Sarah's face. "I don't understand. I obviously want to move on from all this, but isn't there some kind of wizard court I need to go to?"
"Your testimony was already recorded," replied Crouch brusquely, gesturing to the quill and notebook, which were now floating back into his hands. "The Obliviator will be here any moment now."
Sarah's face shifted from a look of confusion to horrified realization as it dawned on her what was going to happen. "You-you're not going to erase my memory, are you?" she whispered.
"Er-yes? That's standard procedure," Arthur replied, smile faltering. At Sarah's look of panic and growing anger, Arthur rushed to explain. "It'll-It'll be better this way, I promise, Miss White! It allows our world to keep its secrecy, and you won't have to think about the horrible brutality you witnessed and suffered through."
"B-But this happened," Sarah cried out, voice raised as tears welled up again in her eyes. "It happened to me. It happened to my best friend and her boyfriend. Erasing my memories isn't going to make it not happen. You can't do this! "
"We're helping you, Miss White–"
"Don't bother, Arthur," Crouch interrupted, "the Obliviatior's here already."
Sure enough, the Obliviator walked in smiling, along with a scrawny young, nervous-looking man who looked to be about Sarah's age, possibly a couple years older. Must be a trainee.
"I promise I won't tell anyone," Sarah begged, tears falling. "Let me just have my memories. I've lost so much already, just let me keep this, please."
"Oh, don't worry, Miss," the Obliviator said cheerfully. "We hear talk like that from Muggles all the time. After it's done, they're none the wiser and go merrily on their little way. Grayson here'll do a bang-up job, no need to worry your pretty little head. Isn't that right, Grasyon?" Grayson's eyes grew wider as he clutched his wand, nodding stiffly. Sarah's eyes reflected despair and desperation as she looked at Arthur imploringly
"Please…you said you wanted to help," she begged. "You said you weren't like the others! B-but you lied!" The anger and despair that was festering inside her for the past three months finally had an outlet. Tears flowed down Sarah's cheeks as she started shouting through her sobs, "Y-you're just as bad as they are! At least they were upfront with how much they hated us, but you and the people here, we're like pets to you too, right? Stupid Muggles who can't do magic, so who cares if we fuck around inside their heads? You don't think of us as human either. The o-only difference is that you…you all pretend to have some kind of moral high ground because you don't t-torture us to death. The bar's so low it must be in hell. I hate you people s-so fucking much."
"Goodbye, Miss White," Crouch said loudly as he exited the room with Moody, Arthur quickly hurrying behind them before shutting the door. He wanted to say something, wanted to convince her that the Ministry was nothing like the Death Eaters, wanted to let her know that he spends his days making sure Muggles like her were safe, but he couldn't think of anything to say. Deep, deep down, an often-ignored part of Arthur whispered that her arguments had some merit. After all, Arthur frequently found himself amazed at Muggle ingenuity in a way akin to how some Muggles might view Chimpanzees using tools. While he liked and admired them as a group, he did think of them as lesser in a way, and it was uncomfortable to be called out on it.
"Don't think much of it, Arthur," grunted Moody as he glanced over. "It is what it is. It's her right to be angry, but there's no gettin' around the Statue of Secrecy. You're doing good work, keeping Muggles safe." He turned to Crouch. "You're awfully quiet."
"The interview went about how I expected," said Crouch flatly. "It clearly points to Malfoy, but she admitted her mind was addled to some degree. A competent defense can easily claim that her perception of Malfoy's behavior was influenced by that. Nothing stopping him from claiming he was under the Imperius himself."
"Yeah, I thought the same thing," Moody agreed grimly. "We can use the information that's corroborated by other sources, but her testimony alone won't be enough to lock away a man who practically shits Galleons. That aside, we also don't even know how much of what she said was fully accurate."
Arthur's eyes widened in surprise. "You think she was lying?"
"Hmmm, not purposefully. But I think she was holding back to some degree." Arthur remembered getting that distinct feeling too. "Could be for a couple reasons. What happened could've been even worse than what she told us, and talking about it with a bunch of strange old men could've made her feel awkward or embarrassed. Or she might've developed some kind of twisted loyalty or affection towards him–don't give me that look, Arthur, it's happened before and she practically admitted it in there—and because of that, she might feel compelled to keep quiet about certain things. Or maybe she's just scared shitless that he'll come back after her, or hell, maybe it's as simple as not genuinely remembering specifics because he really did use a lot of charms to fuck around with her head."
"According to the initial reports, she did seem a bit addled," Crouch agreed. "When the Aurors rescued her from the room, she kept telling them that there were objects they should take in order to get his fingerprints. Why she would think looking at a fingerprint would be of critical importance to anyone is beyond me."
Moody shrugged. "Guess none of this even really matters anymore. We got what we needed, so we'll use whatever we can to try to make it so our case won't fall like a house of cards."
"Moody, were some of those comments really necessary back there?" Arthur couldn't help but ask. "After all she's been through…"
"Ah, that. Well, the whole story seemed too convenient at first. The only witness we have for Malfoy's involvement, and she happens to be the only one in the house at the time of the raid? And she happens to survive for significantly longer than all the others, for no discernable reason? If it sounds too good to be true, it usually is. She could have been someone polyjuiced as Sarah White, for all I knew. I asked those questions to press her and see if she would slip up. But if it makes you feel better, Arthur, I do believe her story overall."
Arthur frowned. "I still don't like you approaching this as some kind of experiment. Sarah's a real person with feelings."
Moody sighed. "Yeah, I know. But Crouch didn't bring me in because I'm so kind to people, now did he?"
Crouch rolled his eyes and was about to respond when they heard a loud creaking noise. The door opened and the Obliviators walked out, the trainee looking even more wide-eyed than before and the senior one with his wand out, with a cheerful smile that didn't quite meet his eyes. Behind them, Sarah was floating with her eyes closed, expression serene and peaceful. It really is for the best, Arthur tried to convince himself.
"Everything's in order, gentlemen! We'll get this little lady back home in no time. Quite the lively little one, eh?" he laughed.
"Thank you, Peasegood," Crouch nodded. The Obliviators walked down the hallway with Sarah, Arthur's forlorn expression following them. Then, after a brief discussion about the logistics and future of the case, the three men went their separate ways.
This day would often resurface Arthur's mind sporadically, but as time marched on, the memory dimmed. He became preoccupied with new Death Eater incidents and new ways to preserve Muggle safety, as well as the new additions to his family. Eventually, Sarah White found herself on the doorstep of her mother's house one day, in a flowered sundress she didn't remember buying, with vague recollections of meeting a gentleman with long blonde hair near a telephone box, and abandoning her university plans in order to live with him in a lovely mansion by the sea. Eventually, the local police would be inundated with frantic calls from Marie White, begging them to look into her daughter's story, saying that she was a studious, responsible girl who would never do something like this, that the man must have drugged her since so much of the story doesn't add up, please, please look into it. Eventually, the police would stop mocking Mrs. White's calls and became preoccupied with two new problems: the disappearance of David Brown, aspiring magician, and the death of his girlfriend, Julie Williams, whose mangled and broken body was found washed up on shore. Though it couldn't be proven, what happened was clear. Surely, David Brown killed his girlfriend and ran away, the neighbors tittered. And the condition of the poor girls' body–how dreadful! Who knew David Brown was so depraved? It's too bad her best friend ran away with a man, otherwise she might have been able to see the problems in the relationship that must have been there and could have warned the poor thing.
Eventually, the story of Julie Williams and David Brown became a curious footnote to the town of Amberton's otherwise-uneventful history, and while the feeling of overwhelming guilt and sorrow did not leave Sarah whenever she thought of the couple, she too became preoccupied with a new development in life. Eventually, Sarah would give birth to a baby girl that she felt compelled to name Diana, after the protector of women and chastity, and wondered why the sight of the baby's blonde hair and grey eyes made her want to cry. Eventually, her recollections would begin to shift over time–memories she once imagined to be bright and cheerful took on a darker tint. Did she really choose to spend most of her time inside because she was afraid of the water? Was there really a butler who would deliver food? Were her lover's friends really as nice as she remembered? Did her lover actually love her? Eventually, years later, there would be a moment while Sarah was washing the dishes, as she often did, where the gears in her mind—either by fate or chance— shifted and clicked back into place, and her world suddenly made both significantly more and significantly less sense. The plate shattered on the ground as she let out a howl of grief, fury, and despair.
But in another world, celebrations and festivities were reverberating all throughout. The Dark Lord was defeated by a child, causing the Death Eaters to effectively lose all their power and influence. And eventually, the law did catch up with Lucius Malfoy and the name "Sarah White" was brought into the public sphere for the first time, but as Crouch suspected, it wasn't able to keep its grasp on him, and he slipped away yet again. Lucius slept many nights content and restful, gorgeous wife curled up peacefully by his side. He would be able to provide his young son with a good life and sizable inheritance, and while not everything in Lucius's life would come smooth and easy, it was a far better life than Arthur believed he deserved.
Eventually though, that would all come to an end. The past has a habit of catching up with us when we least expect it, and not wanting to remember our sins doesn't mean those sins never happened. And eventually, Lucius would, of course, face his reckoning for the sins committed against Sarah White. But that would be another day, and for now he drifted off into sleep, dreaming faintly of salty sea air and screams.
