Categories > Books > Harry Potter > Second Fiddle
Shame On Me
6 reviewsHarry Potter is aware of the wizarding world. The only problem is he grew up apart from it. When he explored the magical world, he found danger, wonder, and friendship.
5Original
Disclaimer: This fan fiction was based on the Harry Potter books by J.K. Rowling. I do not claim ownership on any character created by J.K. Rowling, and no money is collected from this story. This is one way I show appreciation to J.K. Rowling's works. Other names or places on this story are fictional. Any similarity to actual name is purely coincidental.
Chapter 23: Shame On Me
The sleeping form of Harry Evans appeared only twenty-five meters away from Hagrid's hut, and a little beyond Hogwarts' protective wards. Five black cloaked wizards quietly went out of their hiding places and swiftly picked up the sleeping teenager. Without a minute to waste, they silently portkeyed away. The whole scene happened so fast anyone who might witness it would think twice before reporting the incident.
Flint felt good about himself. Upon arriving at Slytherin's Keep, he immediately offered his group a drink to celebrate. He completed his mission without a hitch. It might be just a simple retrieval, but it's still a success. The Dark Lord would surely be pleased with him. Buoyed by his good feeling, he haughtily ordered two of his comrades to lock the Evans boy in the dungeon.
The two Death Eaters laid the sleeping teenage wizard on the cold damp floor. As soon as they deposited their prisoner on the floor, one of them immediately turned towards the door. When he noticed his friend didn't follow him, he paused and turned around. He saw his friend carefully studying the sleeping teenager.
"Come on, Weylin. I don't want to miss the Firewhisky Flint is giving away." The other Death Eater ignored him.
"This is wrong, Ferghus. He shouldn't be here. We shouldn't be..."
In two quick strides, Ferghus had closed the distance between him and his friend. "Be quiet! You don't know what you're saying. Don't let your emotion get the better of you."
Instead of heeding his friend's warning, Weylin continued thoughtlessly in a low voice. "But, this is wrong. He is a /Cyfnos Blaidd/, one of the /Tylwyth Cyntaf/. He is one of our kinds."
"They are a myth," Ferghus muttered angrily. "They don't exist."
"I'm telling you he is a /Cyfnos Blaidd/," Weylin answered vehemently. "The Dark Lord believed it himself. I heard him before I dragged Pettigrew out of the room."
Ferghus gave his friend a telling look. "Don't speak of this again if you value your life. The Dark Lord shows no mercy to those who betray him." He hurriedly walked out to put an end to a very treacherous discussion. Weylin resignedly followed his friend outside. With one last look at the sleeping teenager, he sadly closed the cell door and locked it.
In another part of the dungeon, in a small and dingy cell, a witch hopelessly waited for an end to her tortuous existence. She was lying on her right side curled in a ball with her back against the wall. Once in a while, her thin, wasted body would shiver violently on the floor. Her dirty and ragged purple robe wouldn't be enough to stop the creeping coldness of a passing Dementor. Her dirty and gaunt face was resting on the back of her clasped hands. She was staring dully at the only source of light in her cell. It was coming through the small barred window on her thick wooden cell door.
She didn't know how long she had been here...wherever here was. Time had lost its meaning for her. All she knew was this damp, gloomy, and smelly three by three meters cell had become her world. Bone chilling coldness and mind numbing pain had become her constant companions. At first, she stood defiant, confident in her belief that someone would rescue her. But, when days went by and no one came to rescue her, she began to lose hope.
After enduring so many tortures from the hands of Death Eaters and losing her fondest memories to Dementors, she didn't care anymore. She didn't care at the moss encrusted walls and floor. She didn't care at the smell of her own urine and feces clinging to her hair, robe, and body. She didn't care whether anyone heard her cries of despair and misery. No one would come. No one cared.
She saw her thick wooden cell door slowly creak open. She tightly closed her eyes in fear and instinctively curled tighter into a ball, whimpering. They're here to torture her again. She already told them all the information she knew. She even told them her personal secrets. And yet, they kept torturing her. How she wished they would just kill her. Put an end to these feelings of guilt and shame for being a traitor to the wizarding world, to her family, to herself. She breathlessly and fearfully waited for the excruciating pain. It didn't come. Instead, she heard a soft and slightly husky voice.
"Madam Bones? Are you Madam Amelia Bones?" She kept her eyes tightly closed. She didn't even move. She knew it was a trick. They played this sick and cruel joke on her all the time. Make her believe someone came to rescue her, and thus, raise her hope. And then, they would cruelly crush it. A hand gently touched her thin shoulder. And, it promptly lifted when she fearfully cringed, whimpering louder. "I am not going to hurt you. I am a friend. Please, open your eyes."
Instinct told her to keep her eyes firmly shut. But, the kindness in the slightly husky voice was beguiling. It had been a long time since someone spoke to her with open kindness. She hesitantly opened her eyes and her vision slowly came into focus. Her gloomy cell was softly lit. She saw a very old pair of greenish dragon hide boots a few centimeters away from her. She slowly lifted her eyes to look at the face of this stranger. It didn't take too much effort because the stranger was sitting on his heels. She noticed the light was coming from the stranger's wand which he was holding over her. The stranger had a tough-looking square face with a broken nose. He was giving her a concern look. She had never seen this wizard before. But then again, her memory of people and places escaped her nowadays. She was just too tired and weak to think clearly.
"Could you stand on your own?" She tried to uncurl her tense body and sit up. Sitting on the cold hard floor supported by her grimy hands was as far as she could accomplish. "Please, would you let me help you?" She intently gazed at the guarded brown eyes of the middle-aged wizard. She weakly nodded her head. The wizard approached slowly. He gently helped her to lean back against the damp wall.
"Give me your wand hand." She was puzzled by the request. Nevertheless, she weakly held out her right hand. The middle-aged wizard took her open hand and closed it over the wand just above his own hand. "Keep the wand lit." And then, he let go. The light from the wand instantly went out. Her cell was once again cast in shadows. But, she didn't care. Someone came for her. Someone cared enough to find her. Silent tears slowly flowed from her eyes, until a dam of suppressed feelings broke inside her. She cried copiously in sorrow and in happiness. Soon, the intense fear gripping her heart gradually melted. Joy and relief flooded her body.
The wizard had enfolded her wracking body in a warm embrace. "Shhh...Everything is going to be alright now. We will leave this horrible place. And, you will be home with your family." Yes...Home...She would like to go home, she thought. She felt the wizard lifted her tired and weak body. She carefully folded her thin arms against her breast and contentedly rested her gaunt face on his chest. She firmly gripped the wand in her hand, exulting in the feel of it. Soon, she would be home.
Peter was breathing heavily as he walked down the dungeon hallway carrying the sleeping Madam Bones. He very much wanted to put her down and use a carrying spell instead. But, the Dark Lord ordered him to keep Madam Bones calm and pliable. He would have to keep carrying her and hopefully reach Malfoy Manor before the Dark Lord lost his patience. He irately glanced at the sleeping witch in his arms. She was still heavy in spite of losing so much weight. Next time, he had to remember to bring a lower rank Death Eater to carry heavy load for him.
"Pettigrew!" He pretended not to hear his name and kept on walking. He heard an echo of running footsteps swiftly coming towards him. "Pettigrew." This time the caller was right behind him.
"What now? Can't you see I'm busy," he replied in annoyance. He increased his pace with difficulty.
The other wizard suddenly ran in front of him and effectively blocked his path. It was Warrington. "We have the boy...," he began excitedly while trying to catch his breath. "We have the boy, but..."
Peter angrily walked around Warrington before he could delay him any further. The young wizard immediately followed him, trying to convince him to listen. Peter knew Severus would bring James' son here. Did he have to oversee the matter? Severus could handle it by himself. "Don't bother me with insignificant news. Tie him up, lock him in a cell, I don't care. I have an important errand for the Dark Lord. Unless you want to suffer a severe punishment, you will stay out of my way." He continued walking, murmuring vindictive words to himself.
Warrington was left standing in the hallway. He was confused. He couldn't understand why Pettigrew wasn't interested in the capture of the half-blood Evans. For a moment, he considered flooing to Malfoy Manor to deliver the message directly to the Dark Lord. But then, he remembered the Dark Lord wouldn't see anyone without prior notice. As much as he liked to steal the glory from Flint, he wasn't stupid enough to disturb his master. For now, Flint deserved all the credit. There would be other opportunities. With his decision made, he went back to join the revelry.
Voldemort, tired of sitting around, impatiently stood up and walked closer to the fireplace. He stopped at a comfortable distance from the heat. For a moment, he contemplated the fate that awaited Dumbledore. Soon, the muggle-loving fool would vex him no more. He idly drew his wand and carefully studied it. It shone dully from the muted light of the flames. It would immeasurably please him to kill Dumbledore himself. But, the aged headmaster was just too powerful and skillful to be defeated by one-on-one duel. It grated on what pass as his honor to kill Dumbledore by trickery. But, he would do what he must to achieve his goal. He wondered if the Order of the Phoenix would continue to fight, or would they simply fall apart. He heard a soft crackling sound as the fire slowly burned the logs. In a way, he was a lot like a fire, he thought. He would consume the wizarding world until all the impure bloods were burned away. And then, he would rid this world of muggles.
"My Lord, we are here," a whiny voice from behind him said.
Voldemort's face hardened with displeasure. The mantle clock told him Wormtail had been gone for an hour and thirty-five minutes. However, he kept his anger at bay. He kept his mind free of dark emotions and concentrated at the task at hand. His anger would serve him better later in the day. He slowly turned around.
Voldemort frowned at the picture Wormtail presented. There were beads of perspiration on his rat-like face. He was breathing hard. Once in a while, his face would contort with the effort of carrying the emaciated witch. At the moment, he was making at effort not to drop the sleeping witch. Pathetic, Voldemorth thought with displeasure. "Wake her up, Wormtail."
The rat face Death Eater laboriously shook the sleeping witch in his arms. "Madam Bones... Madam Bones... Wake up. We are here." The witch remained past asleep. He continued to shake her until she tiredly opened her eyes. Glad to finally see her awake, Wormtail set the witch on her feet none too gently. She would have fallen down if she wasn't holding him for support.
Madam Bones was confused. She had expected to see the white walls of St. Mungo, at least. She warily let her gaze roamed around the unfamiliar room until her eyes rested on a darkened figure standing in front of the fireplace. She couldn't quite make out the face of the person because the room was poorly lit. The only source of light was the fireplace which the unknown figure was blocking.
"Wormtail, you may proceed with your task."
Judging by the commanding sound of the voice, Madam Bones surmised the unknown figure was a wizard. Her "rescuer" whose name was Wormtail left immediately. With nothing to keep her steady, she unceremoniously fell on the marble floor. She lost her grip on the wand and it rolled not too far on her right. For a moment, she didn't move. She felt ashamed of herself. Her desire for freedom overrode her caution. She acted like a lamb to be slaughtered, again. Wormtail... It was Peter Pettigrew's animagus name. He betrayed his friends and the Order to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. A familiar feeling of fear slowly seeped into her heart once more. Tears of hopelessness coursed down her gaunt cheeks. She heard footsteps stopped about a meter away from her. With a feeling of fear, she slowly raised her eyes and saw the face of evil.
Voldemort's sinister smile grew wide. It gave him great pleasure to see the witch's fearful eyes. Bellatrix and Gunthar stepped forward and hauled Madam Bones to her feet. They had to hold her steady or she would fall on the floor again if they released her. For a moment, he carefully studied the pitiable appearance of the former Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.
"My apologies, Madam Bones. I was not aware my Death Eaters treated you badly," Voldemort said in a fake regretful tone of voice. Madam Bones didn't answer. Instead, she weakly struggled to put as much distance as possible between her and the Dark Lord. But, the two Death Eaters kept her in place. "Come now, Madam Bones. You have nothing to fear from me. In fact, I sent for you to grant you your most desired wish... your freedom."
At hearing the word /Freedom/, Madam Bones ceased struggling. Although her face still showed her fear, there was also doubt and hope. "Wh...Why will you release me?" Her voice was dry and raspy but Voldemort understood.
"I want to say it is from the goodness of my heart. But, that will be a lie," he said in a deceptively friendly tone of voice. His crimson eyes disturbingly gleamed with humor. "The truth of the matter is I have made a trade proposal to Dumbledore." He noticed the sudden interest in Madam Bones' eyes. It would be interesting to see her reaction once she knew the role she was going to play, he thought, greatly amused. "I will not bore you with the intricacies of the proposal. Let's just say he has someone I want and I have someone he wants." Voldemort looked meaningfully at Madam Bones. "Unfortunately, Dumbledore is just too... shall we say /cautious/... for his own good. I would have honorably made the exchange except for one minor detail." The Dark Lord's smile turned cynical. "He set a trap for me. Can you believe that? I sometimes wonder who is the Dark Lord in the wizarding world." Voldemort slowly shook his head with a feigned disappointment on his face. "Such deceit cannot go unpunished. I...or rather /you/... will teach him a lesson about wizard's honor." He saw Madam Bones' eyes grew round with horror. He almost laughed out loud. He could easily glimpse her unprotected thoughts. "No. No. I have no plan to kill Dumbledore. There are worse things in life than death." He smiled derisively at the irony of his last words.
"No," Madam Bones muttered softly, horrified. "No!" she repeated, more firmly this time. "I refuse to be a part of your evil scheme. You can't make me." With one vicious tugged of her arms, she managed to free herself from the two inattentive Death Eaters. She desperately dived for her wand and tremblingly pointed it at the Dark Lord. Before she could cast the Killing Curse, she was hit from behind with a spell. She couldn't utter a word. The next thing she knew. Her wand was knocked from her hand. And, she was violently pulled to her feet again.
Voldemort gave Madam Bones a malicious smile. The witch's desperate attempt to curse him served only to amuse him further. "You do not seem to understand. You have no choice. I admit I have considered getting your full cooperation, but my other plan is less...complicated." He held her fearful gaze for a moment longer. It was a pity she refused to join him. She would have made a powerful servant. He haughtily raised his wand and pointed it at his fearful victim. With malevolent intent, he muttered, "/Imperio/."
It was a beautiful day. White clouds appeared like brush strokes high in the blue sky. The hot rays of the sun shined brightly on the green and lush vegetations. The air was warm and humid. A cacophony of birds and other animal calls filled the surrounding area.
Dumbledore was oblivious to all of these. He was carefully surveying the forest clearing behind a clump of bush. Voldemort and two of his Death Eaters had arrived and were waiting for them. He could see a figure lying down on the short blanket of grass. It could be Amelia Bones. The Forbidden Forest wasn't his first choice for the exchange site. But, if he wanted to minimize casualties, this would have to do. It afforded cover for his forces. Of course, this advantage worked both ways. Voldemort and his Death Eaters could use the same tactic. Hopefully, his clever counter-proposal disrupted whatever Voldemort planned.
"I don't like it," Mad Eye whispered gruffly, his magical eye swiveling from Voldemort to his Death Eaters. So far, he didn't see anything out of the ordinary. And, that what's set him on edge. Even though his assigned group team leaders were in position, he couldn't help feeling they were at a disadvantage.
Dumbledore completely agreed with him silently. There was something suspicious about this whole situation. His gut feeling was telling him to withdraw. But, he didn't have the heart to abandon poor Amelia, not when he was this close to saving her.
"Are we going, professor?" James asked tensely. He was carefully studying Voldemort and the area behind his evil group.
"We have no choice. If we want to save Madam Bones, we have to proceed," Dumbledore replied firmly. "Are you ready, Nymphadora?"
Tonks winced inwardly. She really wished the headmaster would stop calling her by her first name. She promptly changed her facial appearance. "I'm ready, professor." She, now, looked like Harry's identical twin.
For a moment, Dumbledore carefully considered the three determined faces in front of him. He felt proud of them. They were brave and honorable witch and wizards. "There is one last thing I have to ask of all of you. If by any chance something happens to me, I want you and everyone to retreat." There was a look of surprise and confusion on their faces. "Do not confront Voldemort or his Death Eaters. I want you to take Madam Bones, and every member of the Order and Ministry Aurors, and leave."
He gave James a serious look when he protested. "No heroic. Just leave." He turned his solemn blue eyes at Mad Eye and Tonks, and then, back at James. "Do all of you understand?" Even though they were a little confused and puzzled at the request, they nodded their heads in agreement. He beamed at them, satisfied. "Very good. If everything goes well, Madam Bones will be reunited with her niece. And, we will be back at Headquarters drinking Mrs. Weasley's lovingly prepared tea." With Dumbledore in the lead, they revealed their presence to Voldemort.
_____________________
Cyfnos Blaidd (Welsh) - Twilight Wolf
Tylwyth Cyntaf (Welsh) - First Tribe
Chapter 23: Shame On Me
The sleeping form of Harry Evans appeared only twenty-five meters away from Hagrid's hut, and a little beyond Hogwarts' protective wards. Five black cloaked wizards quietly went out of their hiding places and swiftly picked up the sleeping teenager. Without a minute to waste, they silently portkeyed away. The whole scene happened so fast anyone who might witness it would think twice before reporting the incident.
Flint felt good about himself. Upon arriving at Slytherin's Keep, he immediately offered his group a drink to celebrate. He completed his mission without a hitch. It might be just a simple retrieval, but it's still a success. The Dark Lord would surely be pleased with him. Buoyed by his good feeling, he haughtily ordered two of his comrades to lock the Evans boy in the dungeon.
The two Death Eaters laid the sleeping teenage wizard on the cold damp floor. As soon as they deposited their prisoner on the floor, one of them immediately turned towards the door. When he noticed his friend didn't follow him, he paused and turned around. He saw his friend carefully studying the sleeping teenager.
"Come on, Weylin. I don't want to miss the Firewhisky Flint is giving away." The other Death Eater ignored him.
"This is wrong, Ferghus. He shouldn't be here. We shouldn't be..."
In two quick strides, Ferghus had closed the distance between him and his friend. "Be quiet! You don't know what you're saying. Don't let your emotion get the better of you."
Instead of heeding his friend's warning, Weylin continued thoughtlessly in a low voice. "But, this is wrong. He is a /Cyfnos Blaidd/, one of the /Tylwyth Cyntaf/. He is one of our kinds."
"They are a myth," Ferghus muttered angrily. "They don't exist."
"I'm telling you he is a /Cyfnos Blaidd/," Weylin answered vehemently. "The Dark Lord believed it himself. I heard him before I dragged Pettigrew out of the room."
Ferghus gave his friend a telling look. "Don't speak of this again if you value your life. The Dark Lord shows no mercy to those who betray him." He hurriedly walked out to put an end to a very treacherous discussion. Weylin resignedly followed his friend outside. With one last look at the sleeping teenager, he sadly closed the cell door and locked it.
In another part of the dungeon, in a small and dingy cell, a witch hopelessly waited for an end to her tortuous existence. She was lying on her right side curled in a ball with her back against the wall. Once in a while, her thin, wasted body would shiver violently on the floor. Her dirty and ragged purple robe wouldn't be enough to stop the creeping coldness of a passing Dementor. Her dirty and gaunt face was resting on the back of her clasped hands. She was staring dully at the only source of light in her cell. It was coming through the small barred window on her thick wooden cell door.
She didn't know how long she had been here...wherever here was. Time had lost its meaning for her. All she knew was this damp, gloomy, and smelly three by three meters cell had become her world. Bone chilling coldness and mind numbing pain had become her constant companions. At first, she stood defiant, confident in her belief that someone would rescue her. But, when days went by and no one came to rescue her, she began to lose hope.
After enduring so many tortures from the hands of Death Eaters and losing her fondest memories to Dementors, she didn't care anymore. She didn't care at the moss encrusted walls and floor. She didn't care at the smell of her own urine and feces clinging to her hair, robe, and body. She didn't care whether anyone heard her cries of despair and misery. No one would come. No one cared.
She saw her thick wooden cell door slowly creak open. She tightly closed her eyes in fear and instinctively curled tighter into a ball, whimpering. They're here to torture her again. She already told them all the information she knew. She even told them her personal secrets. And yet, they kept torturing her. How she wished they would just kill her. Put an end to these feelings of guilt and shame for being a traitor to the wizarding world, to her family, to herself. She breathlessly and fearfully waited for the excruciating pain. It didn't come. Instead, she heard a soft and slightly husky voice.
"Madam Bones? Are you Madam Amelia Bones?" She kept her eyes tightly closed. She didn't even move. She knew it was a trick. They played this sick and cruel joke on her all the time. Make her believe someone came to rescue her, and thus, raise her hope. And then, they would cruelly crush it. A hand gently touched her thin shoulder. And, it promptly lifted when she fearfully cringed, whimpering louder. "I am not going to hurt you. I am a friend. Please, open your eyes."
Instinct told her to keep her eyes firmly shut. But, the kindness in the slightly husky voice was beguiling. It had been a long time since someone spoke to her with open kindness. She hesitantly opened her eyes and her vision slowly came into focus. Her gloomy cell was softly lit. She saw a very old pair of greenish dragon hide boots a few centimeters away from her. She slowly lifted her eyes to look at the face of this stranger. It didn't take too much effort because the stranger was sitting on his heels. She noticed the light was coming from the stranger's wand which he was holding over her. The stranger had a tough-looking square face with a broken nose. He was giving her a concern look. She had never seen this wizard before. But then again, her memory of people and places escaped her nowadays. She was just too tired and weak to think clearly.
"Could you stand on your own?" She tried to uncurl her tense body and sit up. Sitting on the cold hard floor supported by her grimy hands was as far as she could accomplish. "Please, would you let me help you?" She intently gazed at the guarded brown eyes of the middle-aged wizard. She weakly nodded her head. The wizard approached slowly. He gently helped her to lean back against the damp wall.
"Give me your wand hand." She was puzzled by the request. Nevertheless, she weakly held out her right hand. The middle-aged wizard took her open hand and closed it over the wand just above his own hand. "Keep the wand lit." And then, he let go. The light from the wand instantly went out. Her cell was once again cast in shadows. But, she didn't care. Someone came for her. Someone cared enough to find her. Silent tears slowly flowed from her eyes, until a dam of suppressed feelings broke inside her. She cried copiously in sorrow and in happiness. Soon, the intense fear gripping her heart gradually melted. Joy and relief flooded her body.
The wizard had enfolded her wracking body in a warm embrace. "Shhh...Everything is going to be alright now. We will leave this horrible place. And, you will be home with your family." Yes...Home...She would like to go home, she thought. She felt the wizard lifted her tired and weak body. She carefully folded her thin arms against her breast and contentedly rested her gaunt face on his chest. She firmly gripped the wand in her hand, exulting in the feel of it. Soon, she would be home.
Peter was breathing heavily as he walked down the dungeon hallway carrying the sleeping Madam Bones. He very much wanted to put her down and use a carrying spell instead. But, the Dark Lord ordered him to keep Madam Bones calm and pliable. He would have to keep carrying her and hopefully reach Malfoy Manor before the Dark Lord lost his patience. He irately glanced at the sleeping witch in his arms. She was still heavy in spite of losing so much weight. Next time, he had to remember to bring a lower rank Death Eater to carry heavy load for him.
"Pettigrew!" He pretended not to hear his name and kept on walking. He heard an echo of running footsteps swiftly coming towards him. "Pettigrew." This time the caller was right behind him.
"What now? Can't you see I'm busy," he replied in annoyance. He increased his pace with difficulty.
The other wizard suddenly ran in front of him and effectively blocked his path. It was Warrington. "We have the boy...," he began excitedly while trying to catch his breath. "We have the boy, but..."
Peter angrily walked around Warrington before he could delay him any further. The young wizard immediately followed him, trying to convince him to listen. Peter knew Severus would bring James' son here. Did he have to oversee the matter? Severus could handle it by himself. "Don't bother me with insignificant news. Tie him up, lock him in a cell, I don't care. I have an important errand for the Dark Lord. Unless you want to suffer a severe punishment, you will stay out of my way." He continued walking, murmuring vindictive words to himself.
Warrington was left standing in the hallway. He was confused. He couldn't understand why Pettigrew wasn't interested in the capture of the half-blood Evans. For a moment, he considered flooing to Malfoy Manor to deliver the message directly to the Dark Lord. But then, he remembered the Dark Lord wouldn't see anyone without prior notice. As much as he liked to steal the glory from Flint, he wasn't stupid enough to disturb his master. For now, Flint deserved all the credit. There would be other opportunities. With his decision made, he went back to join the revelry.
Voldemort, tired of sitting around, impatiently stood up and walked closer to the fireplace. He stopped at a comfortable distance from the heat. For a moment, he contemplated the fate that awaited Dumbledore. Soon, the muggle-loving fool would vex him no more. He idly drew his wand and carefully studied it. It shone dully from the muted light of the flames. It would immeasurably please him to kill Dumbledore himself. But, the aged headmaster was just too powerful and skillful to be defeated by one-on-one duel. It grated on what pass as his honor to kill Dumbledore by trickery. But, he would do what he must to achieve his goal. He wondered if the Order of the Phoenix would continue to fight, or would they simply fall apart. He heard a soft crackling sound as the fire slowly burned the logs. In a way, he was a lot like a fire, he thought. He would consume the wizarding world until all the impure bloods were burned away. And then, he would rid this world of muggles.
"My Lord, we are here," a whiny voice from behind him said.
Voldemort's face hardened with displeasure. The mantle clock told him Wormtail had been gone for an hour and thirty-five minutes. However, he kept his anger at bay. He kept his mind free of dark emotions and concentrated at the task at hand. His anger would serve him better later in the day. He slowly turned around.
Voldemort frowned at the picture Wormtail presented. There were beads of perspiration on his rat-like face. He was breathing hard. Once in a while, his face would contort with the effort of carrying the emaciated witch. At the moment, he was making at effort not to drop the sleeping witch. Pathetic, Voldemorth thought with displeasure. "Wake her up, Wormtail."
The rat face Death Eater laboriously shook the sleeping witch in his arms. "Madam Bones... Madam Bones... Wake up. We are here." The witch remained past asleep. He continued to shake her until she tiredly opened her eyes. Glad to finally see her awake, Wormtail set the witch on her feet none too gently. She would have fallen down if she wasn't holding him for support.
Madam Bones was confused. She had expected to see the white walls of St. Mungo, at least. She warily let her gaze roamed around the unfamiliar room until her eyes rested on a darkened figure standing in front of the fireplace. She couldn't quite make out the face of the person because the room was poorly lit. The only source of light was the fireplace which the unknown figure was blocking.
"Wormtail, you may proceed with your task."
Judging by the commanding sound of the voice, Madam Bones surmised the unknown figure was a wizard. Her "rescuer" whose name was Wormtail left immediately. With nothing to keep her steady, she unceremoniously fell on the marble floor. She lost her grip on the wand and it rolled not too far on her right. For a moment, she didn't move. She felt ashamed of herself. Her desire for freedom overrode her caution. She acted like a lamb to be slaughtered, again. Wormtail... It was Peter Pettigrew's animagus name. He betrayed his friends and the Order to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. A familiar feeling of fear slowly seeped into her heart once more. Tears of hopelessness coursed down her gaunt cheeks. She heard footsteps stopped about a meter away from her. With a feeling of fear, she slowly raised her eyes and saw the face of evil.
Voldemort's sinister smile grew wide. It gave him great pleasure to see the witch's fearful eyes. Bellatrix and Gunthar stepped forward and hauled Madam Bones to her feet. They had to hold her steady or she would fall on the floor again if they released her. For a moment, he carefully studied the pitiable appearance of the former Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.
"My apologies, Madam Bones. I was not aware my Death Eaters treated you badly," Voldemort said in a fake regretful tone of voice. Madam Bones didn't answer. Instead, she weakly struggled to put as much distance as possible between her and the Dark Lord. But, the two Death Eaters kept her in place. "Come now, Madam Bones. You have nothing to fear from me. In fact, I sent for you to grant you your most desired wish... your freedom."
At hearing the word /Freedom/, Madam Bones ceased struggling. Although her face still showed her fear, there was also doubt and hope. "Wh...Why will you release me?" Her voice was dry and raspy but Voldemort understood.
"I want to say it is from the goodness of my heart. But, that will be a lie," he said in a deceptively friendly tone of voice. His crimson eyes disturbingly gleamed with humor. "The truth of the matter is I have made a trade proposal to Dumbledore." He noticed the sudden interest in Madam Bones' eyes. It would be interesting to see her reaction once she knew the role she was going to play, he thought, greatly amused. "I will not bore you with the intricacies of the proposal. Let's just say he has someone I want and I have someone he wants." Voldemort looked meaningfully at Madam Bones. "Unfortunately, Dumbledore is just too... shall we say /cautious/... for his own good. I would have honorably made the exchange except for one minor detail." The Dark Lord's smile turned cynical. "He set a trap for me. Can you believe that? I sometimes wonder who is the Dark Lord in the wizarding world." Voldemort slowly shook his head with a feigned disappointment on his face. "Such deceit cannot go unpunished. I...or rather /you/... will teach him a lesson about wizard's honor." He saw Madam Bones' eyes grew round with horror. He almost laughed out loud. He could easily glimpse her unprotected thoughts. "No. No. I have no plan to kill Dumbledore. There are worse things in life than death." He smiled derisively at the irony of his last words.
"No," Madam Bones muttered softly, horrified. "No!" she repeated, more firmly this time. "I refuse to be a part of your evil scheme. You can't make me." With one vicious tugged of her arms, she managed to free herself from the two inattentive Death Eaters. She desperately dived for her wand and tremblingly pointed it at the Dark Lord. Before she could cast the Killing Curse, she was hit from behind with a spell. She couldn't utter a word. The next thing she knew. Her wand was knocked from her hand. And, she was violently pulled to her feet again.
Voldemort gave Madam Bones a malicious smile. The witch's desperate attempt to curse him served only to amuse him further. "You do not seem to understand. You have no choice. I admit I have considered getting your full cooperation, but my other plan is less...complicated." He held her fearful gaze for a moment longer. It was a pity she refused to join him. She would have made a powerful servant. He haughtily raised his wand and pointed it at his fearful victim. With malevolent intent, he muttered, "/Imperio/."
It was a beautiful day. White clouds appeared like brush strokes high in the blue sky. The hot rays of the sun shined brightly on the green and lush vegetations. The air was warm and humid. A cacophony of birds and other animal calls filled the surrounding area.
Dumbledore was oblivious to all of these. He was carefully surveying the forest clearing behind a clump of bush. Voldemort and two of his Death Eaters had arrived and were waiting for them. He could see a figure lying down on the short blanket of grass. It could be Amelia Bones. The Forbidden Forest wasn't his first choice for the exchange site. But, if he wanted to minimize casualties, this would have to do. It afforded cover for his forces. Of course, this advantage worked both ways. Voldemort and his Death Eaters could use the same tactic. Hopefully, his clever counter-proposal disrupted whatever Voldemort planned.
"I don't like it," Mad Eye whispered gruffly, his magical eye swiveling from Voldemort to his Death Eaters. So far, he didn't see anything out of the ordinary. And, that what's set him on edge. Even though his assigned group team leaders were in position, he couldn't help feeling they were at a disadvantage.
Dumbledore completely agreed with him silently. There was something suspicious about this whole situation. His gut feeling was telling him to withdraw. But, he didn't have the heart to abandon poor Amelia, not when he was this close to saving her.
"Are we going, professor?" James asked tensely. He was carefully studying Voldemort and the area behind his evil group.
"We have no choice. If we want to save Madam Bones, we have to proceed," Dumbledore replied firmly. "Are you ready, Nymphadora?"
Tonks winced inwardly. She really wished the headmaster would stop calling her by her first name. She promptly changed her facial appearance. "I'm ready, professor." She, now, looked like Harry's identical twin.
For a moment, Dumbledore carefully considered the three determined faces in front of him. He felt proud of them. They were brave and honorable witch and wizards. "There is one last thing I have to ask of all of you. If by any chance something happens to me, I want you and everyone to retreat." There was a look of surprise and confusion on their faces. "Do not confront Voldemort or his Death Eaters. I want you to take Madam Bones, and every member of the Order and Ministry Aurors, and leave."
He gave James a serious look when he protested. "No heroic. Just leave." He turned his solemn blue eyes at Mad Eye and Tonks, and then, back at James. "Do all of you understand?" Even though they were a little confused and puzzled at the request, they nodded their heads in agreement. He beamed at them, satisfied. "Very good. If everything goes well, Madam Bones will be reunited with her niece. And, we will be back at Headquarters drinking Mrs. Weasley's lovingly prepared tea." With Dumbledore in the lead, they revealed their presence to Voldemort.
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Cyfnos Blaidd (Welsh) - Twilight Wolf
Tylwyth Cyntaf (Welsh) - First Tribe
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