As I look into his eyes I know mine are saying the exact same thing back at him.
We’re going to die…
I put my left hand palm to palm with his right and entwine my fingers with his. Hew squeezes my fingers. I’m almost more scared of losing him than I am of losing my own life; it’s ridiculous, but true. He smiles at me, it says, I love you, I’m here, don’t panic and I’m scared all at once. I smile back and squeeze his hand, I know what’s coming, but all of a sudden dying doesn’t seem to matter so much any more. Death is but the next great adventure, after all. Then I think of Neville and I can feel my heart break at the thought of him being alone.
A tear slides down my cheek, Frank moves to wipe it away, but he cannot move his arm from where it is tied to the iron bar that runs around the room at chest height. In truth, we are only just able to hold hands and it hurts to do so, but without it I know I wouldn’t cope. Part of me is glad I’m not going to go through this alone; the rest of me is wishing he was safe at home with Neville, and I know he is thinking the same.
“They will find us.” He says so much more confidently than he looks.
They door opens and in walks a woman that we have suspected of being a death eater for a long time, followed by her husband and his brother.
“Tell us what you know about the dark Lord’s whereabouts. Tell us, or we will force you to.” Says Bellatrix Lestrange as she draws her long claw like wand.
Neither of us say anything, the Department of Mysteries has had its suspicions that he-who-must-not-be-named is not dead, but the Auror department has found not evidence to either prove this theory or otherwise, and the unspeakables won’t be saying anything to anyone unless they’re sure about it.
“Tell us everything, or we will force it out of you.”
Silence, Frank squeezes my hand, we are doing the right thing.
“Crucio!” It’s not what I expected, I expected Veritaserum, but this is worse than helplessly spilling out your guts.
I can no longer feel his hand in mine and have no idea if he is being tortured too. The pain is so great it is indescribable and I can’t stop myself screaming, every cell crying out in agony. Suddenly the pain lessens to a point where I can describe it, imagine being hung drawn and quartered, but with the only physical implications being extreme sweating and barely being able to breathe, then times it by ten.
The pain slowly fades the point where I am aware of my surroundings, I can feel Frank’s hand gripping mine so hard I think it might break and I can hear him screaming, did I do the same to him. My ears think it sounds more painful than it is, but my body knows better. I realise I’m still screaming, and as my voice dies she turns on me again, and pain overrides conscious thought.
At some time during this torture a lapse in the pain allows me to think, to remember a thought Frank and I shared. We’re going to die. How I wish that were true.
- x -
I am chewing, I like it, and it tastes nice, but I don’t know what it is. A boy gave it to me, he visits me sometimes, but I don’t know why. I like him, he smiles sadly at me, he is nice and I feel like I should know him, so I give him the paper from around the thing I am chewing, but I don’t know why. There is a man here with me, we hold hands, it is comfortable and I like it, but I don’t know why that is either…