Black Ink

I waited in the side chamber outside the courtroom in silence. I held my head high, face impassive, eyes straight ahead. The six dementors would not affect me! I would not let myself break down, particular not in front of some imbecile like Crouch! The murmurs from the jury and spectators in the courtroom just reached my ears through the muted roaring the dementors' presence produced. Little Barty Crouch was whimpering and snivelling like a badly beaten dog. Coward! Why the Dark Lord accepted him, I'll never know.

I let my mind wander slightly.

Where was the Dark Lord? He was not dead, of course, (he was too great for that,) but where was he? Did Longbottom know, or was it just as he said: that he had no idea? And if Longbottom didn't know, it was a fairly safe bet that the Aurors in general did not know. Could Longbottom have held out against to Cruciatus curse? Surely not....

***

"I ask you one last time--do you have any information pertaining to the Dark Lord's whereabouts?" Bellatrix pointed her wand at the Auror's chest. "Speak, or feel pain!"

"I told you. I know nothing. But even if I did, I wouldn't tell you!"

"Crucio!"

Frank Longbottom's good-looking face contorted in pain and he collapsed to the floor with a harshly exhaled breath, but he did not scream. After a moment, Bellatrix took the curse off.

"Ready to talk now, or should I do it again?"

"Is that really the best you can do Lestrange?" asked Frank, his voice grating slightly on raw vocal cords. A slight trickle of blood ran down his chin from where he had bitten his lips to keep from crying out.

Bellatrix's only reply was, "Crucio!"

Alice Longbottom, huddled in the corner of the room, Barty Crouch Jr.'s wand aimed in the general direction of her torso, let out an anguished moan.

"Shut up, you," snapped Bellatrix's husband, Rodolphus, "or you'll find yourself in the same position!"

"Actually," said Bellatrix, in a strange voice which seemed to be an attempt at a light, whimsical, feminine observation, but which actually sounded more like poisoned treacle dripping off a knife, "perhaps that would be more effective. What do you think, Longbottom?" She addressed Frank, who was twitching convulsively and gasping. Bellatrix twisted a lock of her dark hair around one finger and tilted her head to the side. She might have looked charmingly coquettish, but the effect was ruined by the malicious smirk that twisted her aristocratic features.

"Finite incantatem! Rodolphus, would you do the honours?"

"I wouldn't dream of depriving you of the pleasure, my darling," answered Rodolphus in a falsely-adoring voice.

"Then let's do it together, shall we? Watch closely, Longbottom."

"CRUCIO!" The two Death Eaters said the curse together and a jet of red light shot from each of their wands, hitting Alice squarely in the chest. Though she made a valiant effort to stifle her cries, the double curse took effect after a moment and Alice screamed, loud and long.

"Oh, Barty, cast a silencing charm, would you?" yelled Bellatrix over the noise. Barty did as requested and Alice's wide-open mouth and frantic gesticulations appeared all the more disturbing for the lack of sound.

"Now, Longbottom, what have you to say for yourself, eh? What do you know?"

"I know nothing!" spat Frank. "Take the curse off my wife! She doesn't know anything either!"

"Oh, of course not, I didn't think she would!" simpered Bellatrix. "She's just too thick. But I want you to talk, not her. Your silence is what is causing her pain! Speak!"

"I don't know anything! Your damned Dark Lord is destroyed and good riddance! Search for him if you like, but I don't know where his remnants are! Take the curse off!" Frank was hysterical now. He tried to stand, despite the aching pain in his limbs, and when that failed, attempted to crawl towards his wife. Rabastan who had stood mostly out of the way all this time, content to simply watch, now came forward and kicked Frank out of the way.

"Finite incantatem," said Bellatrix, sounding distinctly reluctant. With the silencing charm now out of the way, Alice's tortured sobs could be heard. She slumped against the wall in a sort of daze. For her, everything was distant and hazy. Her vision seemed to be swimming and there was a roaring in her ears.

In the brief moments of silence, there came the sound of clumsy steps, and a childish voice said, "Mummy! Daddy!" Frank turned his head towards the doorway, praying in vain that he would see anything or anyone but the little boy who stood there, unsteady on podgy legs.

"Neville!" Neville blinked his blue baby eyes in astonishment at the scene before him. In utter consternation, the toddler fell over backwards onto his nappy-padded rear with a soft bump! Small eyes wide in his round face, Neville stared up at Bellatrix as the woman approached him with her dark eyes gleaming like a hungry panther's.

"Oh," Bellatrix grinned evilly, "is this your son?" Frank and Alice were silent, but they did nothing to deny it.

"Ah, he is then," said Bellatrix. "And how do you think he would react to the Cruciatus? I can find out you know...."

"How dare you!" Alice breathed, her voice cold with a fury like steel, and her eyes glinting blue flame. "How dare you enter our home and threaten a child?! I don't care what you do to me, but if you touch Neville, I swear I'll kill you, and I don't give a damn how I do it!"

Frank looked away from Neville, at whom he had been staring as though he were petrified, and gazed at his wife in pure admiration. Alice tried to get to her feet, but Barty Crouch shoved her roughly into the wall. Her head flew back and hit the wall with a loud thwack! before she slid to the floor again. In a fit of righteous anger that seemed to give him new strength, Frank stood up, moved to the corner as quickly as he was able and gave Barty Crouch such a punch in the head that he staggered and fell, partially stunned. Frank ignored him and turned his attentions to Alice, who winced, declared that her head hurt and then promptly blacked out.

"So the disgusting little thing means something to you, does he? How very touching," Bellatrix sneered, choosing to ignore the fact that one of her victims had hit one of her colleagues. "But you are quite right," she continued, meditatively, "he probably wouldn't last long with the Cruciatus, and that would spoil the fun. Perhaps we'll try something a little more...polished. Are you watching?" Bellatrix turned and saw Frank tapping his wife's cheek with a tentative hand.

"You," Bellatrix snapped at Barty Crouch, "wake her up again! I don't want her missing this. Rabastan," she gestured to the man who now stood behind Neville, "hold him." She turned back to the Longbottoms. Alice had been revived and was now staring at Neville, seemingly in a kind of trance.

"Will you talk now?"

They were silent.

"Formido!"

There was no sound from anyone for a couple of seconds in which Neville's eyes grew bigger and bigger. Then the silence was broken by the child's petrified shrieks of terror. High pitched and chilling, Neville's innocent baby voice held a fear beyond all earthly connotations.

Alice screamed, sounding half mad with panic, "Take it off! Take it off! Take it off!"

Bellatrix lazily gave the counter curse and Neville's shrieks subsided into frightened, bewildered whimpers.

"Give me information," she said coldly.

"There is nothing to give," said Frank. "We have no more idea of Voldemort's loca--"

"DO NOT SPEAK THE DARK LORD'S NAME! CRUCIO!" As Bellatrix put the curse on Frank, Rodolphus simultaneously put it on Alice.

"Turn the child's head this way and keep it there!" hissed Bellatrix. "Make sure he watches." An insane grin spread across the women's handsome features, showing only the dark, twisted, evil soul the beautiful body housed; a soul with no kindness, compassion or pity to be found in all of its dark, twisted, hopeless depths.

Bellatrix left the curse on for several minutes, and when she again took it off, reluctantly, the only sound the tortured couple could be heard to make was their rasping breathing, caused by the passing of air over throats ragged from minutes of silent screaming.

"Do you, or do you not know anything about the Dark Lord's location?" asked Bellatrix.

"Nothing," whispered Frank, "nothing."

Bellatrix stared contemptuously down at the Longbottoms. Then she glanced at Barty and Rodolphus. She said only two words: "Break them."

"CRUCIO!"

At first, all three members of the Longbottom family screamed. Then, gradually, Neville's voice was left all alone, and even that faded into shocked silence as the boy realized that his parents were no longer screaming. Frank and Alice had nothing but a blank, glazed look in their eyes as they continued to writhe in physical agony on the floor. But their minds had been broken, and nothing now remained of the two brilliant Aurors who had served so faithfully, acted so bravely, thought and seen so clearly, been responsible for putting so many Death Eaters in Azkaban. They were broken. Yet Bellatrix did not remove the curse, even now, and return to her hiding place...

***

...And that was my mistake. I was so foolish. I am of little use to Master now. It might be years before he regains enough strength and power to free us, since we, his only loyal servants, are surely to be imprisoned. The evidence against us is all too clear, even for those incompetent Auror idiots....

***

"Stupefy!"

Eight voices rang out in unison, and the four Death Eaters dropped like the proverbially stone: out cold. Four of the Aurors quickly cast a Full Body-bind of each of the Death Eaters, while two removed the Cruciatus Curse from the Longbottoms and another one saw to Neville, who, despite the fact that he had been dropped when Rabastan was stunned, was physically uninjured; he had merely bounced lightly several times, and come to rest under the table at the end of the sofa. The poor little boy was still whimpering, his eyes now bloodshot and puffy from weeping.

"Oh Merlin," exclaimed one Auror, a woman named Cheryl Turpin, "no wonder he's upset! I think Lestrange made him watch his parents be tortured, if nothing worse! Come here, Neville. I won't hurt you...come on...." The young woman gently took his arm and pulled the child from underneath the table. As soon as she had him in her arms, he began wailing again.

"Ssh! Confundo! There." The mild Confundus Charm seemed to work, and Neville stopped bawling and just blinked stupidly at everyone and everything.

Another Auror entered the room. He was tall, with dark hair and grey eyes. He walked swiftly toward the Longbottoms and knelt next to them.

"Frank? Alice?" The young Auror shook them gently, but they didn't respond. "We need to get them to St. Mungo's," he said, addressing the leader.

"Certainly. Do so, now. Take Cheryl and Tony with you."

The younger Auror nodded. "Mobilicorpi!"

Cheryl, holding Neville, and a swarthy man in a navy robe followed the Auror out of the room.

Since the Death Eaters were secured to some degree, Anti-Disapparation wards having been cast around the entire house in addition to the Body-binds on the individuals, the lead Auror revived them.

"Rabastan Lestrange, Rodolphus Lestrange, Bellatrix Black Lestrange, and Bartemius Crouch Jr., you are all under arrest for the use of one of the Unforgivables on a human being, in addition to charges of Muggle torture, murder and blackmail, as well as being alleged followers of the late 'Lord--You-Know-Who'. You will appear before the Wizengamot to answer for these charges."

***

If I had not been frozen, I would have laughed till I died! They couldn't even say his name! Fools, all of them! Muggle-loving fools! It really is a pity that the Dark Lord was unable to kill them all before he was forced into...temporary seclusion.... Just for that, I will have my revenge on that Potter boy one of these days, I swear it....

My memories and musings were interrupted by that imbecile, Crouch, shouting, "Bring them in!"

The door was opened and the dementors escorted us to the four magical chairs in which they bound us. I walked proudly to my chair, and sat down as regally as I was able. Let no one say that I was not proud of what I had done, or that I did not carry myself as a Black and a pureblood should. I raised my eyes to my 'judge' and his whinging, whimpering, sobbing, pathetic wisp of a wife.

"You have been brought here," began Crouch, in a falsely grand manner, "before the Council of Magical Law, so that we may pass judgment on you for a crime so heinous--"

"Father!" Little Barty Crouch began to break down completely, despite the dementors' absence. What a snivelling idiot! "Father, please!"

Crouch completely ignored the little weasel's whining. "--that we have rarely heard the like of it within this court. We have heard the evidence against you. The four of you stand accused of capturing an Auror, Frank Longbottom, and subjecting him to the Cruciatus Curse, believing him to have knowledge of the present whereabouts of your exiled master, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named."

Coward! Not even he can say, 'Lord Voldemort'. As a privileged member of his elite Inner Circle, I was permitted to call the Dark Lord 'Lord Voldemort', but often, out of respect, I referred to him by his title.

I was his favourite, and I knew it! He allowed me far more than many others. Like Lucius Malfoy, for example. Malfoy was a conniving bastard, and his only use to the Dark Lord was his money, but he had the gall to think that he himself was worth something. Young Severus Snape now, he had the right sort of mind, and he was undoubtedly skilled far beyond his years in Potions and the Dark Arts, but he seemed to be inexplicably held back by something, and let us have all the fun, most of the time. I wonder....

My thoughts were once more interrupted by young Crouch.

"Father, I didn't! I didn't, I swear it Father! Don't send me back to the dementors!"

When the Dark Lord bails us out of Azkaban, that little one is going to have a lot of explaining to do.

Crouch continued to ignore his offspring. "You are further accused of using the Cruciatus Curse on Frank Longbottom's wife when he would not give you information. You plan to restore He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named to power and to resume the lives of violence you presumably led, while he was strong. I now ask the jury--"

"Mother! Mother, stop him! I didn't do it! Mother! It wasn't me!"

Honestly! I permitted myself a gentle snort of derision.

Crouch continued his feigned ignorance. "I now ask the jury to raise their hands, if they believe as I do, that these crimes deserve a life-sentence in Azkaban."

As expected, all the jury raised their hands. Good. At least they'll give credit where credit is due. I only regret that it could be sometime before Lord Voldemort can justly punish them. I do hope he'll let me help.

Unfortunately, the Dark Lord's young protégé did not see things my way, and resumed his wailing. "No, Mother! No! I didn't do it, I didn't do it, I didn't--no, don't send me there! Don't let him--"

The dementors re-entered the courtroom and took us out of our--chairs. I felt that this would be an appropriate time to warn Crouch of his impending doom, so to speak.

"The Dark Lord will rise again, Crouch," I said coolly. "Throw us into Azkaban! We will wait. He will rise again, and will come for us. He will reward us beyond any of his other supporters. We alone were faithful; we alone tried to find him." This little speech would, I think have been effective, but unfortunately, I did not get to find out, as, rather than go quietly, with dignity, Barty Crouch began his hysterics again.

"I'm your son!" he shrieked. "I'm your son!"

"You are no son of mine!" bellowed Crouch. "I have no son! Take them away! Take them away, and may they rot there!" Ha! In your dreams, Crouch.

"Father, Father, I wasn't involved! No, no, Father. Please...."

As the dementors led us away, I smiled. I will wait. I will be rewarded. The Dark Lord will triumph. They are all fools!