The Future Will Be Better Tomorrow

The Future Will Be Better Tomorrow: Chapter Eleven

¡°And to think I¡¯ve always thought you were smart enough to be a Death Eater.¡± The Dark Lord said to Marcus.

Marcus was under the yew tree, crouched into a foetal position. The Dark Lord pointed his wand at him again, and pain shot through his body.

¡°And you go do something so stupid as to defy me.¡±

And again. Marcus wanted to die. He wanted to just die and be left alone. The pain was indescribable, unbearable. It was pain, but pain so pure it had a certain beauty to it. Not that Marcus thought about it then.

¡°Why didn¡¯t you?¡±

Marcus didn¡¯t know what to answer. He couldn¡¯t, he just couldn¡¯t.

¡°Oh, you can¡¯t? Of course you could. I have Death Eaters here who have killed their best friends from school before.¡±

Marcus was distracted for a moment. Who? Who was that?

The Dark Lord didn¡¯t reply him.

¡°What kind of stupidity possessed you to defy me? And not only did you defy me, you saved him a few times as well, didn¡¯t you? Making Macnair fall, extinguishing the fire, what, you want to be a hero or something?¡±

The Dark Lord pointed his wand towards him, and somehow, Marcus felt all the pain go away. Then it came back about ten times as worse.

¡°If you were so heroic you should¡¯ve gone to Gryffindor! Come to think about it, if you were in Gryffindor you could be with him now. I¡¯m sure you¡¯d like that, wouldn¡¯t you?¡±

Answering him would only make it worse. Not as if there wasn¡¯t anything worse than this.

¡°Nothing worse than this?¡±

Marcus didn¡¯t want to answer. Still, the Dark Lord could read his mind. What did it matter?

¡°Your stupidity baffles me, Marcus Flint. Your mind is so incredibly simple and naïve. Did you know that? You¡¯re stupid. And worthless,¡± the Dark Lord spat.

Pain coursed through his body, and Marcus couldn¡¯t bear it anymore. Horrible memories resurfaced, those of Eric Munch especially.

The Dark Lord laughed. ¡°You¡¯re such a fool. Honestly.¡±

The Dark Lord laughed once more, and reminded Marcus that he was stupid, all over again.

Marcus had had enough. He was surrendering. Yes, he was stupid. So what? He was stupid and would only cause all the Death Eaters to end up in jail and the Dark Lord to fall. He was better off dead, wasn¡¯t he?

¡°Challenging me, aren¡¯t you¡±

Yes. So what? I¡¯m stupid and you should kill me, kill me and you¡¯ll shut me up.

And there was pain all over again. Marcus wanted it to stop, he wanted it to, and he took back what he said. He was sorry. Just as long as this stopped.

Or maybe he wasn¡¯t. Just as long as this ended. As long as this ended and he wouldn¡¯t have to bear the pain anymore.

The Dark Lord laughed again.

¡°I believe you know the rules of being a Death Eater very well. You put me above all others. Did you?¡±

Just end this.

¡°Avoiding me, aren¡¯t you?¡±

And the whole routine started again. There was no way one could answer his questions. You would always be wrong, and he would always be right.

¡°You¡¯re wrong there, you know. For once, you¡¯re right. Oh, the irony of it all.¡±

Please. Stop it.

The Dark Lord laughed, and went inside the house, and came out a moments later with Bellatrix.

¡°You¡¯ll find that Bella is extremely talented with the Cruciatus Curse.¡±

By now, Marcus was too tired to even protest, or react, for that matter. All he wanted to do was to shrivel up and die. And of course, he wouldn¡¯t be granted that.

When Marcus was on the brink of insanity, the Dark Lord ordered Bellatrix to stop. He then cast some spell that bound Marcus to the tree, and went into the house.

When the Dark Lord was in the house, Bellatrix asked him in a low voice and asked him what was it that he¡¯d done this time, but Marcus did not answer her.

*

After work, Percy was supposed to watch the hostages. When he entered the room, he saw that the hostages were all bound to the chairs, and blindfolded. Rodolphus was the other person in the room.

¡°We¡¯ve used the Voice-Scrambling Charm, so they won¡¯t be able to recognise us by our voices, nor will they hear everything we say,¡± Rodolphus told him.

Percy gave a nod, and sat down at the table. The room was supposed to be the ¡®study-room¡¯ of the house that was their headquarters, and there was a table, where Rodolphus sat on one end, reading the papers.

The hostages were bound to chairs stolen from the dining table downstairs. Amongst them was his father, but he tried to ignore that.

Percy decided to start on some of the work he¡¯d brought from the office.

¡°Psst. Do you know what happened to Marcus?¡± Rodolphus leaned over.

Percy looked up and shrugged.

¡°Well, he was very nervous before the mission,¡± he began.

¡°Poor Marcus. I thought the mission went quite well.¡±

¡°Me too.¡±

¡°Whom was he supposed to capture anyway?¡±

¡°Don¡¯t know¡±

Percy went on with his work. It was quite uneventful, really. The hostages seemed to be sitting there obediently. They weren¡¯t given any orders to question the hostages or anything, and really, it was quite peaceful. Once he got over the fact that his father was bound to a chair and blindfolded on one side of the room, that is.

*

All Adrian could do after the mission was hide in his room and cry. He hated it, of course, but he couldn¡¯t help it.

He didn¡¯t use any of the Unforgivables, except for the Imperius Curse, to get people to calm down and think rationally.

And he couldn¡¯t forget the charred faces on the ground, the watches on mother¡¯s hands buzzing away because their children were lying on the ground next to them, the squashed faces and awkward positions of the people who were trampled on, and the screaming.

Mostly it was the screaming that stuck in this mind.

And he cried, because he felt so powerless. He had been unable to change the circumstances, and the death toll this time round was even larger than that of the Ministry attack.

And he cried, because he felt so alone in the world, that everyone else around him seemed so obsessed about killing ¡®enemies¡¯.

And no matter how you put it, Adrian was still one of them, one of the people who destroyed families.

*

The next day, the Dark Lord came out of the house again, and he transfigured the cups he brought out into a table and a chair, and sat down in the chair, whereupon he continued torturing Marcus.

Today he tried something a little different. He would dig out all of Marcus¡¯ memories, and force Marcus to go through all of them slowly.

Marcus wasn¡¯t particularly receptive to the idea. There were too many mistakes he made, too many he chucked aside and left unresolved, like the Puddlemere posters.

And all the times he didn¡¯t apologise to his parents. Or didn¡¯t do what he was supposed to.

And whenever they came to a memory left unresolved, or Marcus did something he shouldn¡¯t do, the Dark Lord would use the Cruciatus curse on him.

Marcus still hadn¡¯t adjusted to its effects. One might think that after all the torture he received the night before, he would be less sensitive to the Curse, but no, this was an Unforgivable, and unforgivable for a reason.

And it was sheer agony. Marcus felt so naked, so vulnerable and so helpless. He couldn¡¯t hide anything; he couldn¡¯t keep anything to himself. Everything that he once considered his, even his most embarrassing memories were laid bare in front of the Dark Lord, who made him go through all of them by telling him about it. If Marcus missed any detail there would always be the good old ¡®Crucio¡¯.

¡°Don¡¯t be hasty, Master Flint, we have all the time in the world,¡± the Dark Lord said with a cold smile.

And Marcus desperately wished he wasn¡¯t right.

*

On the Dark Lord¡¯s orders, they released all the other captured Ministry personnel except for Arthur Weasley. They battered them up a bit, before leaving them in deserted alleys to be discovered by unsuspecting Muggles.

Only Arthur Weasley was left, and the Dark Lord said that they could do what they pleased with him, except releasing him.

So there was this one-day, where Percy was due for a shift with Lucius Malfoy.

Lucius was already in the room when Percy entered, and Percy felt very uncomfortable indeed. There was just something, something about having your father and his old school rival in the same room as you. Especially when you¡¯re on your father¡¯s rival¡¯s side.

Percy was desperate to prove that he wasn¡¯t soft, that he was just as cold and heartless as any of them.

Lucius was questioning Arthur, threatening to use the Cruciatus curse on him if he didn¡¯t comply. Percy was glad there was the Voice-Scrambling charm, for it made him unrecognisable to his father.

¡°Arthur Weasley, Minister of Magic,¡± Lucius drawled. ¡°Albeit an abysmal one, considering you were unable to prevent our attacks.¡±

Arthur Weasley had no Silencing Charm on him, but he didn¡¯t reply.

¡°Although you did reinstate the old emergency rule whereby Aurors could use the Unforgivables on us.¡±

Lucius paused for a second. ¡°Be careful with what you do, next thing you know one of your children could be dead.¡±

It was a double-entendre, not that Arthur was aware of it. And Percy felt all the more uncomfortable.

Arthur actually replied this time. He said, ¡°All of them are at Hogwarts. You can¡¯t touch them there.¡±

¡°Oh really? You are even more foolish than I thought, Arthur.¡±

¡°Dumbledore matched the Dark Lord in terms of powers only when he was at his height, Arthur Weasley. And Dumbledore¡¯s powers are waning now. What makes you think an attack on Hogwarts wouldn¡¯t occur?¡± Lucius continued.

¡°It wouldn¡¯t. Even if it did it¡¯ll be where You-Know-Who falls.¡±

¡°Such confidence. Such blind faith. I am impressed, Arthur Weasley.¡±

¡°At least I don¡¯t follow foolishly,¡± Arthur retorted.

Lucius sighed, and leaned in closer to Arthur. ¡°Do you know what¡¯s happening to your family now?¡± He asked in a cold whisper.

Arthur Weasley¡¯s face immediately changed. He was obviously worried.

¡°You don¡¯t, do you? For all you know, they could be dead. Maybe not those at Hogwarts, but what about your wife? Bill? Charlie? Percy?¡±

¡°You¡ªYou wouldn¡¯t dare!¡±

But the panic was obvious on his face.

Lucius had hit all the right spots. Arthur Weasley had been a Gryffindor, after all, and Gryffindors would willingly sacrifice their own lives but never those of their loved ones.

¡°Dumbledore wouldn¡¯t allow you to!¡±

But even Arthur knew that that had been a silly remark. He could never be sure, not where he was now. And he had never felt more homesick. All he wanted to do was to go home, check that his wife and children were safe, and tell them how much he loved them. Even Percy. He had lost touch with Percy ever since he left home. Yes, Arthur would bring himself to tell Percy how much he loved him, and apologise for tearing down all his hopes and dreams like that.

Arthur would give anything¡ªanything, just to be able to check that all his loved ones were safe.

He¡¯d been stuck here for so long, he no longer had any sense of time. He wondered how the Order was doing, if Gryffindor won the Quidditch Cup this year. Ron and Ginny were both playing for Gryffindor now, weren¡¯t they? He wanted to go home, to be able to tell them how proud he was that they made it to their House team.

Arthur Weasley was close to tears in his desperation to go home.

¡°We might let you go if you promise to remove the Emergency laws. So that the Aurors cannot, under any circumstances, use any of the Unforgivables.¡±

To say the truth, Arthur Weasley was sorely tempted to agree. The gift of eloquence was always a trait of the Dark side, and with their wily promises they caused the fall of one too many good wizard or witch.

What made Lucius Malfoy say that then? What made him say that he would let Arthur go when the Dark Lord¡¯s orders specifically did not allow for any such action?

Empathy. Don¡¯t forget, Lucius was a father too. And like any properly trained Death Eater, he could read minds, and he saw Arthur¡¯s wishes to go home and be with his family. Lucius understood very well how he felt.

The Malfoy family, no matter how hard one tried, was full of distant people almost independent of one another. The only truly pleasant memory Lucius had with his family was when Draco was born, only a few weeks old, and sleeping on his mother. Lucius had leant in to kiss Narcissa, and she smiled back at him, a genuinely warm smile.

As Draco aged, Narcissa seemed to find him such a burden and a trouble, and rarely cared for him. Work took up most of Lucius¡¯ time, and so he rarely played with Draco. He knows that Draco¡¯s childhood was very deprived. All the time he had with Draco he tried to teach him things like spells and Latin and all the things his own father had passed down to him that he himself hated so much. Lucius had fallen into the trap of behaving like his own parents, when he swore against it with such conviction, alas, such a long time ago.

And now, it was too late to try improving his relationship with his family. His parents were deceased, his wife was always out, and Draco was at school.

And he knew how bad Arthur felt, and said that to make him feel somewhat better, although it didn¡¯t seem to be working.

But Lucius did want the Emergency Laws to be reversed, so he tried threatening Arthur Weasley again: ¡°If you don¡¯t reverse the Emergency Laws, we will see to it that your family does not come out whole at the end of this War.¡±

Arthur declined to reply, and Percy spoke up, to Lucius¡¯ surprise.

¡°Answer us,¡± Percy said with a tone far harsher than necessary.

Arthur still remained silent, and Percy asked him to reply again, this time with the threat that he would use the Cruciatus Curse.

And it shocked Lucius deeply inside. It shocked Lucius that a son could bring himself to do something like that to his own father willingly. And it also made Lucius think, what if Draco ended up this way too? He knew with all his heart that no matter what he will never allow Draco on the Death Eaters¡¯ side. It was too risky, and Draco would be unable to cope. And he knew that he would force Draco to go on the other side no matter what.

And what if¡ªwhat if Draco ended up in some position of power on the other side, and the Death Eaters were all caught, and the use of Unforgivables was allowed on the Death Eaters, and Draco was supposed to question them and Lucius refused to answer and Draco used the Cruciatus Curse on him?

It included a lot of ¡®what if¡¯s, but really, it could happen.

And Lucius was silently willing Arthur to answer, even if it was a ¡®no¡¯, so that Percy would stop pointing his wand at Arthur like that.

Arthur adamantly remained silent, and Lucius closed his eyes, unwilling to see what followed.

¡°Crucio!¡¯

And Arthur screamed. Did he know? Did he know who cast that on him?

Percy stopped for a while, seeming quite shocked that he was able to cast it on his father. He raised his wand, about to cast it again when the door banged open and they were greeted with a cheery ¡®hello!¡¯ and the smell of the most delicious muffins ever.

Everyone (except Arthur) turned towards the direction of the door to find Adrian Pucey standing there with a box in his hands.

¡°I made some muffins,¡± he said brightly. ¡°Want some?¡±

Everyone was glad for the interruption. What would have followed if Adrian didn¡¯t burst in might have been too cruel to describe.

And Arthur was the most relieved of all. And the muffins, they smelled so good. They smelled of home, of love and of comfort.

After a muffled conversation, Arthur heard the door close.

And the person who came in with the muffins asked if Arthur wanted some. Arthur thought for a moment that they might be poisoned, and was about to refuse politely when the person brought a muffin to him.

¡°Are you hungry? You must be. You¡¯ve been trapped here for so long.¡±

And Arthur wondered if that was a Death Eater. Because none of the other Death Eaters had treated him this way, not especially the previous two. And he decided that the person sounded nice enough, and really, Arthur didn¡¯t care. He was starving, and he wanted to eat.

¡°Would you like some tea as well?¡±

*

When Adrian¡¯s shift with Jugson was over, he still had one muffin left, and he decided to try sneaking it to Marcus.

Jugson was very quiet all the while, and he seemed to be in some faraway place, lost in a little world of his own, all while fiddling with a rubber band.

When Adrian had offered him a muffin, he looked at him strangely, as if he wasn¡¯t aware that there were other people in the room.

Adrian wrapped the last muffin in some tissue paper, and attempted to hide it in his track jacket.

When he walked outside, he saw that there was no one except for Marcus, and passed him the muffin.

Marcus looked up with him with such gratitude that he wanted to cry, to release Marcus and tell him to run from the place as far as he could. Marcus then refused, on further thinking, because he would get Adrian into trouble, but Adrian insisted that he have the muffin and the Dark Lord popped out behind him suddenly.

Adrian let out a little yelp before he could stop himself. He stood, frozen to the spot, unsure of what to do next.

¡°Adrian Pucey, ever so caring,¡± the Dark Lord said sarcastically. ¡°Trying to pass food to your friend without my knowing.¡±

¡°Why don¡¯t you try using the Cruciatus Curse on him? Practice a little,¡± the Dark Lord suggested.

¡°N-no, sir, I¡¯d rather not.¡± Adrian had no idea where he found the courage to say that, but he did.

¡°You¡¯d rather not? You¡¯d rather not? Did I say you have a choice?¡±

¡°But now that you mention it, I shall give you a choice. For five minutes, you either use the Cruciatus Curse on your friend here or I use it on you.¡±

Marcus immediately croaked, ¡°No!¡±

But Adrian being the self-sacrificial person he is, picked the latter.

And it was Marcus who had to live with the guilt for the rest of his life.

*

The next day, the Dark Lord came out of the house, and sat on the chair as always had, for the past few weeks.

Marcus would always be tortured to the brink of insanity, then it would stop and resume the next day.

This day, the Dark Lord sat down on the chair, and conjured up a chessboard and put it on the table.

¡°Isn¡¯t it a beautiful day? A nice day for chess, don¡¯t you think?¡±

Marcus didn¡¯t know how to respond, nor did he respond. He long learned that it would cause only more trouble.

The Dark Lord picked white, and started the game.

Then he looked at Marcus, and said, ¡°What? Don¡¯t want to play a game with nice old Voldy?¡±

Marcus had no choice, and moved a pawn.

The game continued on till the afternoon, where it was apparent that Marcus was going to win. Not that he meant it intentionally. Marcus was taking as long as he could to think up of ways to lose.

If he moved this piece here¡- no. That wouldn¡¯t do. He would win the game then.

Marcus looked up desperately at the Dark Lord. And to his relief, he began to speak up.

¡°I¡¯m sure that know what chess is used as an analogy for; it¡¯s an analogy for war, and so on. But can you describe to me what happened at the attack during the Puddlemere-Magpies match?¡±

Marcus didn¡¯t know how to reply. All he knew that it was messy, it was gruesome, and he never wanted something like that to happen again.

¡°Ah, yes. Messy and gruesome. You don¡¯t want it to happen in your lifetime ever again? I assure you it won¡¯t.¡±

¡°And really, isn¡¯t chess such a bad metaphor for war? It¡¯s so neat and structured.¡±

The Dark Lord paused for a while, and then he raised his hand into the air in a sweeping motion. The chess board spun around, and stopped. Marcus was now playing the white pieces.

¡°This, my dear, is war.¡± The Dark Lord concluded, checked Marcus, and hit him with another bout of the Cruciatus Curse.