Dark Daughter

Chapter 12: Capture and Torture

Amy drifted slowly into consciousness. Where was she? What was going on? Her head hurt so badly that she thought it might just burst. Her right hand felt like it had a thousand tiny pieces of fire in it. She began to vaguely remember the attack and the magical mines. She opened her eyes slowly. Her headache became worse, but, strangely, her thinking became clearer.

Amy sat up and fought another wave of dizziness. She was apparently in the cell of a large, stone dungeon. Snape was lying next to her, still unconscious. She tried to crawl to the edge of the cell on her hands and knees, the better to survey her situation, but her right hand burst with fiery pain as she put weight on it. It was so penetrating that she fell backwards. As she looked at it, Amy found that there were hundreds--probably thousands--of pieces of wood embedded into her palm and fingers. It was bleeding in some places where the pieces were bigger. The stinging was so intense that tears welled in her eyes, and Amy almost never cried because of pain, so she didn't dare try to remove the splinters.

Her wand had evidently exploded. Amy had read that in times of intense heat and dark magic, wands would explode. The pieces of wood in her fingers would have to be magically removed, because they had been magically embedded. Amy wondered dully if anything else she'd read in "Worse Case Scenario for Wizards" would come in handy.

She winced, held the injured hand to her chest and hobbled like an injured dog to the edge of her cell--her cage, she thought--where bars blocked her escape. She saw that she and Snape were not the only occupants of the dungeon. She saw Harry Potter and his friend Hermione Granger in one cell. Harry was unconscious like Snape but Granger was awake and when she saw Amy staring at her, she pressed a finger to her lips.

Amy nodded slightly, but was stopped by the pounding in her head. She continued to examine the dungeon. Black and Lupin were in the same cell together. Lupin was awake and he had a hand on Sirius' chest, but was looking at Harry with worry etched all across his face. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were sharing a cell, too, but they were both conscious, talking to one another with hand motions and eye contact.

Everyone in the dungeon appeared to be in pairs in their cells. The rest seemed to be still unconscious (Amy hoped that they were only unconscious). Amos Diggory and Ron Weasley (Amy remembered that Mrs. Diggory hadn't attended the meeting of the Order. Lucky her, Amy thought bitterly.)--Fred and George Weasley together, as always--Minerva McGonagall and Jason Black--Cornelius Fudge and Mad-Eye Moody . . . Draco Malfoy and Andrew. But Amy then saw, with an outbreak of despair, that Andrew was dead.

* * *

Harry opened his eyes. He was lying flat on his back. Hermione's head was upside-down over him. He opened his mouth to say something but she put her hand over his mouth and pressed her finger over her lips. Harry nodded and she let go of his face. Harry rolled over and sat on his knees.

He was in a stone dungeon with tones of cells. He saw Evans and Snape staring at them. Amy, her face pale and covered in dirt and blood, gave him a look clearing asking him if he was all right. He didn't answer. Ron and Amos Diggory were in a cell together. Ron gave him a look and glanced at Diggory. Harry knew that Ron was not very happy about the pairing. But Harry didn't have much more time to look around the dungeon, because at that moment a whole band of Death Eaters came in.

Each unlocked the cell and seized the occupants roughly. Evans was struggling violently. She jerked and pulled--writhed and whimpered but all of it was all in vain. They led her some place different from where the others were being taken.

Harry looked onward. There was a cliff up ahead, outside of the cave-dungeon. He could hear the rush of water. There was probably a large river close by. A half-circle of Death Eaters was forming there; one was constraining a little girl, with red hair, green eyes and filth covering her entire form. Harry had a sudden feeling of terror. He knew something terrible was coming, something more dreadful than death, more awful than torture . . . something that he would never forget or forgive. And he was right.

* * *

Amy was being forced into a chamber. When she was finally inside Narcissa Malfoy preformed a Switching Spell and Amy felt a whoosh as her robes switched instantly. She felt the bandage she had used to cover the wound on her shoulder disappear.

She looked down to find that her robes were now dark green. She could feel that she was wearing the same pants (tonight she'd decided not to where a skirt) but her shirt was a button up. She could feel the collar around her neck. She inspected it and found that it was white and in between the collar edges, a silver, serpent-shaped pin in the form of an S was placed. Amy glared at Mrs. Malfoy. She made a grab for her filthy, ripped and sodden school robes but Mrs. Malfoy held them out of her reach.

"The Dark Lord wants you to wear those," she said tauntingly. "You should listen to your father."

"I noticed that your son was in the dungeon," said Amy. Her anger and frustration were beginning to get the better of her and she forgot that Mrs. Malfoy had a wand and she didn't. "What's the matter? He didn't want to become a Death Eater so you abandoned him?"

Malfoy raised her wand but stopped herself and said evilly, "Yes."

She grabbed Amy by the arm and hauled her out into the cold, rainy air.

She yelled the words for the Switching Spell and Potter's school robes (which were as dirty and wet as Amy's had been) were switched with red ones. He had a white, collared, button-up shirt too, but in place of the silver, serpent-shaped pin was a golden lion's head. Something told Amy that the other Heirs of Hogwarts in the forest had had the Switching Spell on their robes too.

She looked into a puddle that she was standing in. She saw that her face was very pale and dirty. She had a cut above right brow. And the left shoulder of her green robes was rapidly becoming dark with blood because the bandage was gone. Amy seemed to have become numb to pain. She glanced at Potter. He had a cut above his brow too, except his was above his left. He had a scrape under his right eye. He also had signs that he'd had a bloody nose earlier.

A tall man, with a long black cloak was walking out onto the cliff, slowly and menacingly. He turned to face his prisoners and all of them saw his red eyes glowing inside his hood. It was Voldemort. Dementors were encircling them. Amy felt a wave of penetrating cold and noticed everyone shiver, even the Death Eaters. But Voldemort did not move.

"Amilia," he said to Amy. "You have betrayed me."

Lucius Malfoy, who was holding her arms behind her back, released her. Amy made a wild attempt to flee. Anything to get away from her father--anything. She knew what he would say. The choice. The choice was coming. She had to get away . . . had to . . . had to . . .

Malfoy seized her before she'd made it more than a few feet and held a knife to her throat. He guided her over to Voldemort. Now Amy didn't dare struggle. The fear was suddenly replaced by a strange acceptance of what was going on. She was the daughter of Voldemort, the only chance for either side (well, there was Dumbledore). She knew that there was nothing she could do to escape . . . understood and accepted the fact. This was the time. It was time to show Voldemort what she was made of.

She waited more patiently and quietly than she felt while her father considered her through his red, glowing eyes. Suddenly, there was a faint pop of Apparition. Everyone and everything in the circle looked around. The Death Eaters looked everywhere but found nothing until Voldemort told them to stop. Amy felt that he was stronger than he had been before. And more arrogant. But that somehow meant that she was more powerful too.

"You have betrayed me, my daughter," he repeated. Amy cringed as he said that she was his daughter. "What's that? You do not want them to know, do you? You still crave for their approval. You will not have it. You need only me." He spoke to the circle of prisoners. "Did you hear that? Amilia Evans is my daughter. It is no lie. She is the heir of Slytherin, she can speak Parseltongue and she has been my Death Eater all year long!"

Malfoy yanked up her left sleeve to show the tattoo-like Dark Mark on her arm. Amy pulled her arm away. Everyone looked simply shocked. Amy had to explain.

"It's not what you--"

But Malfoy held the dagger closer to her throat and Amy was silent.

"Amilia," said Voldemort. "I will give you one last chance. You may choose between these fools, who only want contentment and peace, and me, who will give you power. Choose! Choose between weakness and power."

"My place is not with you," said Amy softly.

"Oh? Are you sure? You realize that what you have chosen is the way of pain and death?"

"It is better than an eternity with you!" Amy spat, loud enough for the whole clearing to hear her. She felt Nagini gliding between her feet, much like a cat would do. "I fear neither you nor your wand." Amy straightened herself and looked defiantly into Voldemort's red eyes. "Besides, you cannot kill me. There is a connection between the two of us. Remember that potion we exchanged? And the power? I am in you and you are in me. If you try to kill me, you will die and I will linger. It will be like the night of the Potters' deaths. Well the all of the Potters except Harry here. It will be that same pain. And no one will come to your aid this time. You cannot kill me and you know it!"

"I will have a Death Eater kill you then," said Voldemort amusedly but Amy heard the fear in his hissing voice.

"There is part of you in them too," Amy said more defiantly. She knew that Voldemort could not kill her. It was almost fun to tell the Dark Lord that he could not win this one. "When you branded the Dark Mark onto their arms, you also branded some of yourself and your powers onto them. They will die and you will die. I will live. If you do not try to kill me, I am the only one who knows how to defeat you."

"But if I kill Potter here," said Voldemort, "the spell cannot be preformed."

"Ah," said Amy, thinking quickly. "But--but you inserted some of Potter into yourself and if you kill him, you will die too. You should have used a different wizard to help you regain your body that night, shouldn't you? All of that trouble to lay hands on him and it didn't even get you more than humiliation."

"I can still torture you until you are insane," said Voldemort. But then the Dark Lord became suddenly and surprisingly grim. Well, as close to miserable as someone as evil as him could be. "Amilia, I do not want to hurt you. How is it you have came to hate me so?"
For a moment--just a moment--Amy was sure that Voldemort had some kind of feeling towards her.

"I have always been against you," said Amy. "I was in the beginning and I will be in the end."

Voldemort seemed infuriated. He cast the Cruciatus Curse upon her. Amy didn't scream. The agony was so intense that she could only whimper and writhe on the ground. Amy was sure that it went on for hours until she felt it lessen and finally diminish. Didn't open her eyes. She just lay in the puddle that she'd fallen in, feeling for the first time just how wet it was. She heard voices speaking and decided to focus on them, rather than on her own pain.

"Dumbledore," said Voldemort softly. "How nice for you join us. I was just punishing my daughter, here. Crucio!"

Amy felt the pain, which had been fading, return. She whimpered and twitched. But this time it stopped after a few seconds. She didn't open her eyes. She could feel someone standing over her.

"Don't touch her!" said Dumbledore, he sounded more angry than Amy could ever imagine.

"Dumbledore," chuckled Voldemort. "Haven't you realized that Amilia has been working for me? Weren't you listening?"

"She has been my spy, Tom," said Dumbledore. He was actually taunting the Dark Lord. Those who knew Voldemort's "real" name also knew that he hate to be addressed with it. Amy's admiration for him grew. "She has been telling me everything that you do during those nighttime meetings with your Death Eaters."

Voldemort seemed outraged. "You are an old fool!" he hissed. "And a liar!"

Dumbledore gentle hands were pulling Amy to her feet. "Amy may choose," he said. "She alone is the one who can choose the path on which she walks."

Amy opened her eyes. She was standing in the middle of the circle. Dumbledore stepped away so that he and Voldemort were each equal distances from Amy. She stared at her father. The darkness in her heart was beginning to take hold again.

Go to power, it said. Dumbledore betrayed you before. He is only kind to you because you will have supreme power if you choose your father. You will be more powerful than Dumbledore, than your teachers--you will be more powerful than any being alive!

No, Amy told the Dark. No.

She stared into Voldemort's eyes. And then she backed towards Dumbledore.

"No!" she told her father. She backed into Dumbledore, who placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Bring the girl forward," said Voldemort and a Death Eater came out from the shadows, dragging a filthy little girl with red hair and green eyes. It was Aria.

"Amy!" she shouted, stretching out her hand.

"You want your sister to die, then," said Voldemort.

Amy could only stare. She didn't believe it. Voldemort raised his wand and preformed the Cruciatus Curse. Aria screamed for at least five minutes before Voldemort removed the curse. Amy was struggling against Dumbledore's grip. She didn't want to join Voldemort but she wanted to stop him from hurting her sister.

"It's an illusion," Dumbledore whispered.

"Now what is your choice, Amilia?" said Voldemort.

Amy stared at Aria in her green nightdress. She was staring at Amy with pleading eyes. Amy tore her eyes away from the girl that looked like her sister.

"She's not real," Amy said unsteadily. "My sister is dead. You killed her!"

"I saved her, Amilia," said Voldemort. "I knew she would be of use when I might need something to persuade you to join me. Lord Voldemort is sparing for his followers."

"She's not real!" Amy shouted.

Voldemort waved his wand and Aria disappeared. But before she did, she screamed, "Amy! Amy, I'm real! Don't let them do it again! Please! Amy!"

Amy looked away. She closed her eyes, gathered up her courage and them opened them again.

Both Voldemort and Dumbledore took out their wands. Dumbledore muttered something and the Death Eaters holding the prisoners back released them. They looked terrified and hurried behind Voldemort. Amy retreated behind Dumbledore with the others. No one made eye contact with her. Everyone on Dumbledore's side cringed away form her, even Jason. Amy was standing closest to Granger, who was staring at Dumbledore.

Amy stared at him too. Voldemort and the headmaster began to duel. Amy watched as curses flew from one wizard and the other blocked it. Something stopped the followers on each side from helping. It was terrifying to watch the two most powerful wizards in the world fighting, to prove who was the more powerful.

"You've learned quite a lot since you were my pupil, Tom," said Dumbledore with his face contorted in appalling fury.

"Enough to know how to kill any being alive--even you!"

"You don't know what killing me would do for my side, Tom," Dumbledore said, his face lightening.

"I know what it would do for mine!" yelled Voldemort.

Amy watched in horror as the two fought. Which did she owe her allegiance to? What if Dumbledore killed Voldemort? Would she die too? For a few seconds this filled Amy with fear, but it faded rapidly and was replaced with courage and readiness. This was what she was here for--to help defeat the Dark Lord. Suddenly, without warning, Voldemort yelled, "Avada Kedavra!"

Amy watched as though in slow motion as the wand swished down to point at Dumbledore. She heard a rushing sound and saw a bright green light. And then saw Dumbledore, headmaster of Hogwarts and leader of the Order of the Phoenix, the man who was their only hope, the man who had trusted her and others when no one else would, crumple to the ground. He was dead.

For what must have been five seconds, everyone in the circle stared at the body. Voldemort looked up victoriously at their disbelieving faces. Amy wanted scream in misery. The grief hit her so hard in those few seconds that if it had been longer, she would have probably gone mad.

After those moments of intense sadness, there was a great explosion that seemed to come from Dumbledore's chest. Bits of debris were flying everywhere, but the explosion seemed to consist solely of light and blue fire. The blinding light filled almost the entire forest.

"Into the river!" shouted Black. "Common!"

And everyone followed him. He was dragging Harry. Amy couldn't see his face, but she knew that he was struggling to get to Dumbledore's body. She knew that he probably wanted to see if Dumbledore was alive, but she knew that if he approached the fiery spot that was Dumbledore, he would be killed. Amy and the others jumped into the river. Many of them were dragging people too. Amy was pulling Ron Weasley, which was no easy task. He kicked and flailed and twisted, but his grief slowed him down and Amy was able to throw him in the river.

They fell about ten feet down. Not really a cliff, she thought. But when she hit the water it was icily cold. Even Potter swam with the rest as they tried to get away from Voldemort. When the river had slowed and had become a pool of softly flowing water, they stopped and Amy looked around.

"What now?" said Mundungus Fletcher.

Amy was looking into the depths of the river. A hat was lying there at the bottom. A hat that looked strangely familiar.

"Hey look at this!" Amy shouted.

She dove into the water in order to grab the hat, but as the water got deeper, it also became murkier. Amy was forced to resurface with out the hat. Without pausing to look at the others, she looked at the ring that Voldemort had given her at the beginning of the year. Somehow, she knew what to do. She blew gently on the little jewel and watched it glow emerald green light. She plunged back into the depths of the river and was finally able to retrieve the Sorting Hat.

"Yes!" she said triumphantly. "I've got it!"

"You've got what?" said McGonagall.

"Let's go ashore, I'll explain," Amy said.

"We're not gonna listen to you!" yelled Fred Weasley. "You're Voldemort's daughter!"

"What?" Amy said. "Oh, Fred, I've been Voldemort's daughter all the time you've known me and you liked me and trusted me then. It's just like that pureblood and Mudblood rubbish. Judging people on who their parents are! I'm not my father! I never have been and I never will be!"

And at that she swam to the shore. Many people followed, and eventually, all of them were standing on the muddy bank of the river. It was still raining, but everyone had found it easier to ignore in the presence of more urgent problems. Using her left hand (her right was injured), Amy drew a sword from inside the hat and all of them gasped, even Amy.

It was straight and thin, with emeralds encrusted onto the hilt. The Ring of Slytherin was glowing, giving off a blackish green darkness. It frightened Amy, but she didn't take it off. She handed the sorting hat to Potter, who imitated her and pulled out a sword with rubies incrusted in the hilt.

"What can we do with these?" Potter asked.

"I don't know," said Amy. "But lets put them back in. If we get captured again, we don't want to make it too obvious that we're up to something, do we?"

"We're up to something?" said Potter.

"Not yet, Potter," Amy said to him.

Everyone was looking at Amy skeptically. She did her best to ignore it but Jason's eyes were boring into her own. Jason was standing at the back of the group. Amy made her way towards him, but he stepped away from her.

"Get away from me you traitor!" shouted Jason.

Amy looked at him with tears in her eyes. She looked away as the group moved towards an empty cave. She sat down at the entrance to the cave while everyone chose places farthest away from her. Amy got up and went outside. She couldn't take it.

Outside the icy rain was coming down so hard that it was almost painful. Amy slid down the wall of smooth stone that was the outside of the cave and put her head in her arms. It would have been five-thirty p.m. if the sun had been out and the dark cloud had not descended upon the forest and grounds. It seemed to be an endless night. Amy sobbed for a time before she got hold of herself and went back inside.

"Back again, are you?" said George.

"It's obvious you need my help, even if you refuse it," Amy retorted.

"Don't you realize?" yelled Fred. "You're Voldemort's daughter and you never told us! That's worthy of suspicion! Jason's right, you are a traitor!"

"I never told anybody," Amy said softly, but everyone and everything in the cave could hear her, "because I was a afraid of this kind of reaction. Don't you realize? Don't you see that I'm doing this you?

"I don't have a family to go home to. They're dead because of me and I don't want that to happen to anyone else. And I guess . . . " Amy glanced at Jason. "I don't have friends either. I'm alone. But I can't--we can't--let this ruin our lives forever! I'm doing this for you and me--and everybody. So . . . so God damn it," she kicked the wall, "let me help you!"

There was silence both inside the cave and out. Amy flopped herself down on the cave floor, buried her head in her arms once more and began to cry. She was silent though. The only way any of them could tell that Amy was crying was the way her shoulders rose and fell. The flame hope that had flared in her heart all the time that she had spoken with Voldemort had gone out.

* * *

Cho Chang lay curled on the ground in a dungeon. A Death Eater stood over her, laughing his head off. Cho gazed up at him through the haze that surrounded her. Her friend lay next to her bleeding and weeping. Cho was bleeding too. She closed her eyes and let the Death Eater's cackle fill her ears until she lost consciousness.

* * *

Quite suddenly, Jason got up. He crossed over to Amy, crouched in front of her and forced her to look at him (this was surprisingly difficult).

"I'm sorry," Amy whispered, her voice choked with tears. "I'm so sorry."

"Why didn't you ever tell us?" asked Jason. "And what d'you mean you don't have any friends?"

"I didn't tell you," Amy said slowly, "because I was afraid. I was afraid that you would hate me--that everyone would hate me. And I was right wasn't I?"

"I don't hate you," said Jason quietly.

"What was all that 'traitor' rubbish, then?"

"Oh, I--" Jason looked guilty. In truth, he'd thought about what he'd said to her for a long time. "I--I'm so sorry Amy. I was wrong. Can you forgive me?"

"'Course I can," said Amy a grin on her face and then she threw herself upon him. "Oh, Jase," she sobbed. "I'm so glad you're back! I thought I'd lost you! I don't think I could've made it alone."

"Hey," said Jason. "What're friends for?"

"Lots of things," whispered Amy.

"So," said Jason, "how're you planning to help these people?"

"We need to get to the centaurs," said Amy.