Requital

REQUITAL

Prologue: The Action

"My lord, we've captured one of Dumbledore's precious Order members."

A man in his mid-twenties was thrown forward unceremoniously at Voldemort's feet. His hands and feet were bound together, but he managed to rise into a kneeling position. His blue eyes glared at the dark lord defiantly. Voldemort chuckled mercilessly as he leaned to peer at the man. "A Weasley, no doubt. You have done well, Theodore and Pansy."

"Thank you, my lord," a cool female voice said. Pansy Parkinson bowed her head respectfully, and she and Theodore Nott retreated back into the ranks of the Death Eaters.

"I wonder which one you are," Voldemort said, his voice light and amused. He was toying with his prisoner. "There seem to be quite a lot of you running around lately; or am I seeing triple?" The Death Eaters sniggered appreciatively. The Weasley raised his head and stared at Voldemort and the Death Eaters flanking him. On his right were two solidly-built Death Eaters, on his left was a plump, short figure with a silver hand. A slim figure stood in the shadows behind the other four, his bearing upright and aristocratic.

It was this Death Eater who spoke. "The second eldest one. Christopher or something..." he spat derisively. "The dragon keeper."

"Charlie," one of the Death Eaters in the crowds behind the prisoner piped up. The voice was recognizable by Charlie even in this setting. Former Quidditch rivals had a way of staying in one's memory. The man was undoubtedly Marcus Flint, formerly of Slytherin.

"Charlie," Voldemort repeated, as if savoring the word. "Charlie. You don't mind if I say it again? Charlie." He smirked at Charlie's scowl. "Forgive me, I do like a break from all these wizarding names I have to say every day... Charlie is a nice contrast. So," he said in a pleasant, conversational tone, "how is your family? They're going to be absolutely crushed by your death; of course, I can never figure out why, because there are about forty of you."

Charlie gritted his teeth but didn't reply. "Ah, my boy, alas, before we allow you to die, we would like to get some information out of you. For example, what is Dumbledore's next move? Anything you'd like to share with us, Mr. Weasley?"

"I won't tell you anything," Charlie said stoutly.

"Imprudent move, young Weasley," Voldemort said, stepping back. He seemed to be contemplating something. "Now, then... who shall I have kill you?" He laughed to himself.

"I will, my lord, if you would allow me," one of the men on Voldemort's right said eagerly. It was the voice of Rodolphus Lestrange. "Please; you have denied me the pleasure of killing a prisoner for far too long." He then added quickly, "I am not complaining, my lord, merely asking for your permission."

Voldemort just chuckled softly. "Patience, Rodolphus, I shall allow you to kill soon."

Pansy stepped forward. "My lord, I should get to kill him, because I caught him. I should get the privilege."

Voldemort's eyes gleamed furiously at this. Pansy's eyes widened as she realized her mistake: She was a minor Death Eater, and her words had been near-reproachful. "Draco," he said smoothly, beckoning the Death Eater in the shadows forward. Draco Malfoy approached his master silently. "Yes, Draco... He is your cousin's boyfriend, is he not?" Charlie raised an eyebrow. It was amazing how Voldemort seemed to keep tabs on everyone's social life. "The irony, Draco," Voldemort hissed. "Kill him. But first, give Pansy her punishment for doubting my judgement."

Draco stepped forward and raised his wand. Pansy collapsed on the floor. "Don't use the Cruciatus Curse on me, please!" she shrieked. "Please, Draco, you can't do this to me! Have mercy! I'm Pansy, you can't use it on--"

"Crucio."

The rest of her words were lost as she screamed in pain, jerking in unnatural ways. Finally, the screams subsided as Draco ended the curse. Pansy, sobbing, crawled back to her spot in the ranks of the Death Eaters.

"Good, Draco," Voldemort drawled lazily. "Now kill the Weasley."

Draco moved towards Charlie eagerly. He laughed softly. "Long time no see, Weasley," he said. "Was it thirteen years ago?"

"You," Charlie spat, his eyes narrowing.

"I promised I would kill you, didn't I?" Draco said lightly.

"If that's what 'Avocado' meant, yeah," Charlie retorted. "Can we get this over with?"

Draco smirked and moved closer. "Brave, aren't you, Weasley?" He peered into Charlie's eyes, and his smirk grew wider. "But your fear is showing in your eyes. I wonder what you're afraid of. It's certainly not us." He narrowed his eyes and scanned Charlie quickly, his eyes widening suddenly when they stopped at Charlie's right hand.

"Go on, Draco," Voldemort said in a bored voice.

"Come on," Charlie said mockingly. "What's wrong? Can't cast a Killing Curse?"

Draco stood, stock-still. Charlie wondered if he was Petrified or something. Then, slowly, he lowered his wand and said quietly, "No."

"What?" Charlie said, confused.

Voldemort just stared at Draco as the Death Eaters began whispering to each other. "Foolish boy," he hissed. " What is wrong with you? You will do as I say, Malfoy! Imperio!"

Draco struggled for a moment before his face and eyes went blank. Mechanically, he raised his wand and intoned, "Avada Kedavra."

Charlie closed his eyes as the green light overtook him. Before he succumbed to the blackness, he wondered what had caused the hesitation on Draco Malfoy's part.