The Future Will Be Better Tomorrow

The Future will be Better Tomorrow: Chapter Eight

It was all over the news, everywhere. "Terrorists blow up area near Trafalgar Square, 128 dead, 153 injured, many still missing"

And Adrian wondered how many managed to escape. They could have Apparated themselves somewhere else the moment there was an explosion. He hoped that there were people who thought of that.

And Adrian wondered how many were still down there, and if they were still alive. Arthur Weasley, the Minister for Magic, happened to be away signing an agreement with the French Minister of Magic. Adrian wondered what it would be like if Mr. Weasley was still in there. He would have been killed by his own son. He wondered what Percy would feel if Mr. Weasley had died in the attack.

The Muggles called it a 'terrorist attack', and they pretended that the Ministry building was an underground shopping centre. Most Muggles had never heard of such a shopping centre. But the alternative would be so much more troublesome, and it would require the mobilisation of the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad, of which most of its members were trapped underground. The Ministry also encouraged the belief that it was a shopping centre, to prevent Muggles from finding out about their world. It was already bad enough that so many of them saw the attack happen.

They had built barriers around the gaping hole, to prevent Muggles from seeing the magic they were using to rescue the people trapped underneath.

And Adrian wondered if this would have happened if he didn't tell everyone how to make the explosive powder invisible, or how they could make explosives using simple household items, like the cleaning detergent.

The Death Eaters, he found, were eager for any way to cause destruction. And this wasn't a very good thought because he was supposed to be a Death Eater.

Not that he chose to. It wasn't his sort of thing, really. His impression of the Death Eaters was the one commonly held around him, that is, the Death Eaters were cold-blooded murderers. As far as Adrian knew, they hadn't proved him otherwise, and he felt rather disappointed in Marcus for being one of them.

Adrian realised that if He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named found out what he was thinking right now he would have been out of the Death Eater circle pronto. And the only way out was death.

Adrian didn't know what he would pick. If he died then the Death Eaters might go to even further lengths. Staying in, he could try to lessen the number of casualties through suggesting alternative methods. Marcus was in the team that planned the attacks, after all. He could pull a few strings, and maybe the attacks wouldn't be as devastating. He wondered what the Death Eaters did to faithless members.

He was mostly shocked to find that Percy Weasley had joined their ranks. Percy Weasley he had always thought of as a model student, one whom the professors held in a good light. Although some of the students seemed to find him somewhat pompous and occasionally patronising.

Adrian couldn't think of any reason why he would want to become a Death Eater. For all he knew, Percy came from a loving and close-knit family. It wouldn't make sense for Percy to betray their trust and become a Death Eater.

But at the very least he was glad he had an uncle who was a Death Eater. Without Mulciber, he would have been dead by now, or worse, in some odd torture chamber where the Death Eaters tortured him for entertainment. He shuddered at the thought of what they might do.

Mulciber was his mother's brother, and his family had actually 'disowned' him once he was found out to be a Death Eater. It surprised Adrian that Mulciber would stick up for him, because Death Eaters weren't supposed to behave that way. And it was quite obvious that You-Know-Who didn't approve, from the way he spoke to his uncle.

Adrian then realised that Mulciber might have sacrificed something, or did something extra to please You-Know-Who, as a sort of bribe to let him in the Death Eater circle, instead of having him killed. Adrian wondered what it was, but when he realised what it might involve he stopped immediately.

Presently, Adrian was holding a spray of flowers, pink and white and purple. He was standing at the edge of the gaping hole, a sheet of metal separating him from the death and suffering that was in there.

He set the bouquet on the ground, as he silently mourned the death of all who had lost their lives just the day before. And then he thought of all the people who had lost their loved ones. It was always these people; the ones who lost loved ones, who were affected the most.

"Not without reason," a voice behind him said.

Adrian turned around to find his uncle standing there.

"Uncle Hephaestus," he called.

Mulciber gave a nod, and put a hand on Adrian's shoulder.

"You can't run away from growing up."

Adrian half-nodded and half-shrugged.

"Nothing, absolutely nothing happens without reason. There will always be a reason, no matter how unjustifiable it seems."

But all Adrian wanted to do was to cry and yell at the world for being unfair and cry some more. Mulciber gave Adrian a little hug, and asked if he wanted to go for tea. Adrian nodded vaguely, and followed him to a nearby café.

At the café, Mulciber told him that Adrian would still have to learn the Dark Arts. It was the whole sink-or-swim thing, and Adrian didn't have much choice.

Adrian hated it of course. All he wanted to do was to be left alone, where he could continue to lead his own peaceful life and not be bogged down by the details of the war. And there was no one to blame but himself. Marcus was right. He shouldn't have meddled in business that wasn't his own. But how could he help it? It was his dad, after all. He didn't want his father to be involved in things that would only cause much more trouble.

Mulciber told Adrian that he would eventually have to learn the Unforgivables. And to make Adrian feel better, he told him that even if he was on the good side, he couldn't escape from the ugliness of war. Adrian then refuted him by saying that he never wanted to take sides, nor did he ask to be involved.

And Adrian knew that he was being naïve and childish. He couldn't avoid it, so it would suit him best to adapt. But he just wouldn't. He hasn't yet come to terms with adult life. He didn't ask to grow up. If he had his way, he would always be in Hogwarts, away from the troubles of the world, just learning all that he could. Adrian much preferred the world from afar; he would rather read about it than live in it anytime.

Adrian was Mulciber's nephew after all, and Mulciber knew that Adrian was stubborn. It was a trait present in their family anyway.

During the course of the next few weeks, Adrian managed to learn a substantial amount of the Dark Arts. He was a fast learner, and he was always eager for more information. But once they were done with the theory work, they would eventually have to move on to the practical work, or all the information would be useless. He had to practice casting some of the spells, and usually he practiced them on Gnomes the neighbours threw over. Mulciber made him do it, actually. Adrian hated the Cruciatus spell most of all. It was the worst spell, in his opinion, and for his practices he never did it for more than a second, causing Mulciber to get quite annoyed with him, because he wasn't getting enough practice on it. Adrian then claimed that it wasn't as if he would use that spell often, and Mulciber shook his head, saying it's always better to know how to do it.

Meanwhile, he still worked at the bakery, something he really loved to do. Marcus came in quite frequently, under the pretence of looking for Adrian, when what he really wanted was to eat the food Adrian had baked.

And this was how Adrian and Marcus kept up with each other's lives, over the cupcakes and brownies and muffins and pie and bagels and scones and crumpets.

*

On the Dark Lord's orders, they weren't rescuing Jugson, Avery, Crabbe, Goyle and Travers from Azkaban soon. The Dark Lord claimed that they needed some form of punishment; it would be good way for them to pay for their faithlessness, and he would have them endure Azkaban for him.

Marcus had already the beginnings of a plan for the rescue, but he decided not to tell anyone yet. He now came to the bakery on an almost daily basis, for his breakfast. Yes, he was here so that he could sample Adrian's baking. And no, he would not tell Adrian how much he liked his food.

There was the whole thing about the essential ingredient being love and all, but Marcus was a sceptic. Also, Marcus didn't want to give Adrian too much encouragement, lest he delve further into baking and waste his other talents.

Marcus then realised that Adrian was a talented cook, so by working in a bakery he wouldn't be wasting those talents. But then there were the others, left undeveloped. And Marcus felt indignant that Adrian had been forced to join the side that advocated so much hate. Adrian, to him, was incapable of hate of any kind, and to force him to do so was akin to blasphemy.

Marcus paid for his meals, of course. He couldn't let Adrian treat him all the time, although Adrian still liked to give him extra stuff. Eventually Marcus convinced him to treat him just like any other customer, but Adrian pointed out that he was a regular customer, and therefore should get special benefits.

For the day, Marcus was supposed to meet up with Antonin, and they were supposed to track down some ministry personnel for some reason. Marcus wasn't very informed on this 'mission' they were supposed to do. He met Antonin at the fourth fireplace of Diagon Alley, and they set off on their supposed 'mission'.

It was the first time Marcus saw it happen to a person.

The both of them had ambushed the Ministry of Magic security guard, Eric Munch. Eric had supposedly seen Percy exit the Ministry building a while before the explosion happened, and he went to pick up the piece of paper Percy threw away.

He had suspected that Percy had been somewhat connected to the explosion, and made a report. Due to spies the Death Eaters had 'recruited', they found out about the incident, and were now capturing him.

They dragged him to the headquarters, where he was bound to a chair. Antonin then asked him to tell them all he knew of the incident.

Eric Munch refused. Antonin asked again. He refused again. Antonin used the Cruciatus Curse. Eric Munch screamed. He screamed and writhed and tears were flowing freely from his eyes.

Marcus wanted to scream too. Marcus was positively shaking where he stood, shocked by the effects the Cruciatus Curse had on someone. Marcus wanted to scream and yell at Antonin to stop it; he wanted to believe it wasn't real.

Antonin stopped applying the Cruciatus Curse, and asked Eric again. If it weren't for the ropes that bound Eric he would have been no more than a crumpled heap on the ground. Eric raised his head, and looked pleadingly into Marcus' eyes. Marcus could not look back. Marcus wanted to crumple up on the ground and cry too. The shock factor was too much for him. Marcus looked at the ground and closed his eyes. And saw the pleading look on Eric's face. His eyes immediately fluttered open. Marcus was very close to tears, but it was fear that kept him frozen.

Eric refused again, and Antonin applied the Curse again. Marcus wanted to yell at Eric, to tell him to answer the question. Marcus wanted to yell at Antonin, to tell him to stop. And most of all, Marcus wanted to yell at himself, for he had made a stupid mistake and should never have joined the Death Eaters.

Eric broke down, and stuttered that he didn't know much. He just saw the piece of paper and wondered why Percy would dump it, then the explosion happened and he escaped in time, though not with a few injuries. A few weeks later, he realised that there might have been some connection, and after some deliberation, reported it to the Ministry.

Eric was pleading now, pleading for Antonin to let him go. Marcus would have, too. He wanted to say, 'that's enough, let him go'. He wanted to run up and snatch Antonin's wand so he wouldn't do anymore damage.

Antonin then asked him to list all the people whom he told the matter to. A look of panic crossed Eric's already desperate face. He did not answer for a while, and Antonin threatened to kill each and every person in his family if he did not tell.

And Eric begged. He kept saying, 'No, please don't. Please. No.', and he cried some more. When he saw Antonin raise his wand, he unhesitatingly began to spill the information. He didn't tell his family, they knew nothing. He told only the Ministry personnel. Only those people. Really. It was the truth. Eric begged to be let go. Please.

Antonin stood there, probably verifying the truth of the information. A while later, he stepped forward to untie Eric. And Eric was thanking him profusely and begging him not to touch his family. Antonin grabbed Eric by his hair and pulled him up.

"Thank you for your kind assistance," Antonin said with a cold smile. "I look forward to working with you again."

Then there was a flash of green light, and Marcus did all he could to prevent himself from screaming out loud.

Antonin let go of Eric, and the lifeless body dropped to the ground. There was still a smile on his face, and Marcus could not bring himself to look. Marcus was shaken, disturbed, traumatised and scarred for life. He was quivering in his position, too afraid to move or say anything.

Antonin then picked up Eric's body again, and Disapparated off to somewhere else.

The next day Marcus saw in the papers, "Husband and wife murdered, killer suspected to be Death Eater", and he knew he couldn't bear to read on.

For the next few nights especially, Marcus lay in bed, unable to sleep, haunted by Eric. Eric screaming, Eric crying, Eric begging and actually thanking Antonin when he was being untied. Most of all he was haunted by the pleading look Eric gave.

Images of the photo of Rodolphus, Bellatrix, Rabastan and Antonin in Paris started to surface as well. It was the same person. The same person who also taught him about the Dark Arts and more.

Marcus wondered where the connection was. Or actually, he knew they were the same person, just that he refused to connect the person who killed Eric with the smiling person in the photo.

Marcus wanted to run away. He wasn't sure if he could face the Death Eaters ever again.

And Marcus then remembered, a long time ago, about a year after the Dark Lord fell, the most publicised trial.

And there was the photo again.

And Marcus wished he had never seen the photo, nor knew these people personally. Matters would be less complicated; he would be able to dismiss them as twisted, cruel, cold-blooded murderers like the rest of the world.

He would not have to think of them as people, people who have given him some lessons on life, people who had relationships with each other, people who were capable of loving.

And maybe, if Marcus didn't know better, he could have dismissed it as a 'they used to be such nice people, it was You-Know-Who who turned them into such evil people' case of the good-person-gone-bad.

And Marcus hated the world for being so unclear, hated the fact that there was no good or bad. Hated the way some people who deserve more than the world could provide did not get anything at all.

And Marcus hated himself for being so full of hate.

For the rest of the night Marcus drifted in and out of sleep, his thoughts and nightmares were indistinguishable. Marcus didn't even know if he did fall asleep, or if he was just deluding himself. But everything seemed so surreal to him, and he would have been unable to tell the difference.

The next day, Marcus received an owl, from Terence. He brightened up a little, and when he read it, he found that the firm Terence worked at was in charge of the rebuilding of the Ministry.

Upon reading the part about the Ministry Marcus' heart fell a little. So it had been real.

Terence said something about how they haven't kept in touch in a long time, and he wanted to know how Marcus' life was. His was busy, due to--oh, how predictable--the explosion again.

Marcus felt like scribbling a note to Terence saying, "If you want to know how my life is, well, it's all shite. So sod off and stop pretending you care about me."

But Marcus knew that Terence genuinely cared. Marcus was somewhat grateful that he had friends who truly cared, however, none of his problems he could tell.

So Marcus gave some reply about how 'things were going swimmingly', and that he had lots of fun working at The Screaming Banshee. Over there, one could almost earn a degree in Sociology. And that he would like Terence to go there someday, even though it's in Knockturn Alley and probably not very good for his reputation etc.

When he re-read the letter he realised it was all bollocks, and threw it away. He would pretend to not have received it, that the owl was stupid and inefficient and lost the letter. Or he would pretend to have written a reply, but the owl was stupid and inefficient and lost the letter. Basically, the owl would be stupid and inefficient, and he would tell Terence to get a new owl, as if he was an expert on owls.

Marcus found his excuses excusable, and so he left the house to go to the bakery for breakfast. He went to the Diagon Alley fireplaces, and Floo-ed his way to Hogsmeade.

When he stepped into the bakery, horror of all horrors, Terence was there, and he was talking to Adrian. And they both saw him, so he couldn't run away. All the excuses Marcus came up with vaporised into thin air, and Marcus greeted them lamely.

They both laughed, and they found a table to sit around. Terence had read in that the Wizard's Guide to Britain had recommended visiting witches and warlocks to try the food at Adrian's bakery in Hogsmeade.

Adrian laughed and said he didn't own the bakery, Mr. Chamberlain did, and Adrian was just working for him.

Marcus and Terence laughed and said that they knew, they knew. And Adrian gave this cute little smile and Marcus wanted to pinch his cheeks.

Marcus was feeling better already, and with the help of Adrian's smiley-faced muffin (that was meant for kids), he couldn't help but smile too.

Terence suggested that they hold some ex-Slytherin reunion, but Marcus said that it would be really hard to get all of them together, and arrange a day. Actually, it wouldn't be that difficult. Marcus just wanted to avoid the people of his past. He didn't know why, but every time he saw them he wondered if he would have to kill him any one of them one day. It would certainly be a whole lot easier killing them if he was distanced from them.

Or actually, Marcus just wanted to avoid them because he always felt so guilty.

After breakfast, Marcus walked around a bit, and then went home to devise the escape from Azkaban in more detail. Marcus had a vague idea that he wanted to experiment, but for that he needed Dementors to experiment on.

Marcus had been thinking. If the thing that harmed Dementors was happiness, they might be able to kill Dementors by causing them extreme happiness. And there was this charm, the Opposite Effect charm, that when used simultaneously with another spell, will result in the opposite effect of the spell cast.

Basically, the idea was that if they used the Cruciatus curse together with that charm, they might cause the Dementors to feel extreme happiness and die as a result.

Then Marcus remembered what happened the day before. And wondered if Dementors had feelings. Because, if they did (and he believes so), then causing them extreme happiness would just be like using the Cruciatus Curse on humans.

And the Cruciatus Curse... Marcus couldn't think about it anymore. What happened yesterday had left a wound so deep Marcus couldn't even try to heal it.

And yet, these were Dementors. Dementors, whose main mission in life was to cause hurt and suffering.

But to cause them extreme happiness would be sinking to the level of the Dementors, wouldn't it?

And everything, just like everything else, was as complicated as always.