The Future Will Be Better Tomorrow

The Future Will Be Better Tomorrow: Chapter Nineteen

After the trial they were led out of the courtrooms, and Adrian had to go look for Mr. Weasley. He didn't have to look much further, as Mr. Weasley and several other Ministry personnel walked past them. Adrian slowed his pace so that he was at the back of the group, and when he saw that Percy was sufficiently far enough he tapped Mr. Weasley on his shoulder.

"Mr. Weasley?"

Mr. Weasley spun around, and was surprised to find him there.

"Listen, go visit Percy, but bring only Mrs. Weasley and yourself."

"What? Why?" Mr. Weasley looked rather caught off guard.

"Just do it," Adrian replied as the security guards hauled him off.

*

"Weasley, your parents are here to visit you."

Percy didn't quite want to face his parents. After all he had done, and the previous time they came to visit--no, he couldn't bring himself to swallow his pride. He ignored the watchwizard for a while.

Then Adrian decided to break the silence between them that came about ever since he refused to talk to his family.

"Twelve hours, twenty-nine minutes and forty-three seconds," he said, and nothing more.

Percy continued to sit on his bed, unwilling to admit defeat.

"Twelve hours, twenty-nine minutes and forty-two seconds."

Percy refused to look at Adrian.

"Twelve hours, twenty-nine minutes and forty-one seconds."

Twelve hours, twenty-nine minutes and forty seconds left in his life, Percy stood up and walked out of the door.

And right into the visiting room, where his parents were.

There was silence again, and then his father spoke up.

"I'm sorry, I really am."

Percy dearly wished that he could be stupid, be stupid and rude and too proud just like he had always been and go back in.

But he had only twelve hours, twenty-eight minutes and twenty-five seconds of his life left.

So he sat down.

Then he brought himself to look his parents straight in the eye.

And there were still all the excuses popping up in his mind, and all the jealousy he felt at the other people for having nicer parents.

Then he broke down.

And he didn't even know what he was saying, he was just mumbling away, telling his parents that he was the one who was sorry, and sorry for all the things he did, and all the things he did, and he realised that he had to tell his parents what were the things he did and apologise.

And it was quite easy, once he got started. He admitted to all the horrible things he did, and now when he looked back, they were really quite horrible.

And he admitted to having cast the Cruciatus Curse on his father. His mother gasped and his father said that he had already forgotten about it, but now that Percy mentioned it he did, but really, what did such things matter?

And Percy looked up to see both his parents smile at him.

And he was trying so hard not to cry even more, because he was still desperately clinging on to what bits of his pride he had left.

*

Marcus noted that Adrian was peeking through the window to see how Percy was doing with his parents. Marcus noted that since he hadn't come back yet, they must have made up or something.

And there was Adrian, looking through the window with a wistful look on his face. Then Marcus remembered that Adrian's parents were dead. And oh no, oh no. Marcus' protective instincts were coming back in again, and he wanted to run up to the window and drag Adrian from it and tell him it's all right, but he was a little too late because he saw Adrian bite his lip and look at the floor and wipe his eyes with his sleeve.

*

Percy and his parents talked about everything and anything, and he suspected that all the other Death Eaters that had visitors did too.

Percy was pleased to find out that Fred and George's business endeavour was highly successful. He felt a pang in his heart when he heard that Ron and Ginny were still somewhat traumatised by the incident, and haven't fully recovered. And there was so much about his family, but at the end of it all, he was really glad to have made up with his parents.

He walked back into the room, nine hours, forty-six minutes and fifty-four seconds left in his life, and feeling much better about it.

He saw Adrian sitting on his bed, reading the sports section of the Daily Prophet, and sat next to him.

He sat there for a while, trying to work up enough courage, and Adrian asked him what he was doing.

And it was now or never. Really.

"Iloveyou," he managed to say.

Adrian stared at him for a while, and smiled. Then Adrian mumbled something and hid under the covers.

Nine hours, forty-five minutes and twelve seconds left in his life, it was complete.

*

They got up a few hours before dawn, and so did the rest of the people in the wizarding world. Marcus found it horribly barbaric, to take such a sadistic delight in seeing the Death Eaters die.

All the Death Eaters were grateful for the period of time they had in this warehouse, here they sorted out most of their stuff and they were ready to die. Narcissa Malfoy had actually visited yesterday, although only for a very short while. And of course, they would be wearing their Death Eater robes, because they wanted to 'die as a Death Eater'. For all the fellowship and good times they had it was worth the dirty looks from the usual commoner.

They were the plebes, and Marcus was the emperor. Marcus noted with some amusement that the Death Eaters had an Augustus, an Adrian (who could pass for Hadrian), an Antonin (sounds like 'Antoninus' enough), they had a Lucius, and there was once a Severus. And there was Marcus.

And he briefly considered wearing purple, because his soul perceived himself to be an Emperor. And there was the whole gay pride thing. Marcus was rather amused, and in the end he tied a purple ribbon on his right arm.

Antonin asked him what it was all about, and Marcus explained. Antonin looked as if he wanted to tie one too, but decided to let Marcus have the credit for a brilliant idea.

And they were led to the Hogsmeade village centre. You would have thought they were celebrities, what with all the people lined up on the sides of the road. The only difference was that they were jeered at.

They were lined up in a neat row, and Marcus realised that Dawlish was supervising the execution. Dawlish had a satisfied smirk on his face, which all of them ignored. The Death Eaters still retained their pride, and Marcus could see that many people were sorely tempted to stone him to death. After all, Marcus did make a few cheeky remarks in the trial, like how he didn't plead guilty but was proud to announce that he was the one who was responsible.

And it was to start. Marcus was expecting the security guards holding him to pass him the potion, but Dawlish cleared his throat and cast a Sonorus.

"Calm down, calm down. I am rather pleased to announce that the Ministry has found a Dementor, and yes, there has been a change of plans. We will be using the Dementors on the Death Eaters instead."

What?

The whole crowd was cheering, and Marcus felt as if he were in a coliseum. Any time now, they would launch the Dementor and laugh as the Death Eaters tried to run away from it.

It was just so fucking unfair!

Marcus could see several familiar faces in the crowd, and he was somewhat glad to find that Terence was jabbing the cheering people around him in the ribs. He caught Terence's eye, and gave a smile. Terence looked somewhat taken aback, but forced a smile back.

And some guards brought the Dementor forward. They were coming in from Percy's side, as they were placed alphabetically, and the Dementor was going for Percy first.

"NO! STOP IT! STOP HOLDING ME!"

Marcus turned his head to find Adrian struggling against the guards holding him, and to his surprise he managed to break free and he was running straight into the Dementor.

"Adrian, no!" Percy called.

But at the exact same moment some sort of white light, the one seen when the Cruciatus Curse was cast, sprang from Adrian's left arm and hit the Dementor.

Marcus could hear people screaming in the background.

The Dementor was wriggling on the ground, and began to fade away. Adrian looked up, looked at Percy, looked at his hands, and before he could do anything else, there was a blinding flash of green light from Dawlish and Adrian dropped dead on the ground.

Marcus could hear more people screaming, if he wasn't so shocked he might have as well.

"YOU'LL PAY FOR THIS!" Percy roared.

And at that moment there another blinding light, white, and Dawlish collapsed on the floor, crouched up and wailing.

And Travers was holding Percy and telling him to calm down but how could he?

Percy was crying in gasps, too anguished to even cry properly. He collapsed on the ground, arms on his knees and head on his arms, sobbing.

"Percy!" Marcus heard Mrs. Weasley call.

Marcus could see Mr. and Mrs. Weasley rush up to Percy, but before they reached him, there was another blinding flash of green light.

And Marcus wanted to cry, he would have cried like Percy if not for the fact that he was still too stunned to even move. It was such a quick succession of actions, and then they were dead.

Adrian was lying in front of Percy, who was still in the same position, except that his right arm drooped slightly.

"Members of the Order, stay, and will everyone else kindly move off in an organised manner?" Marcus heard Dumbledore say, somewhere in the background.

And there was the sound of people rushing off, and Mrs. Weasley's cries, louder than the crowd.

Dawlish could be heard, faintly, still crying in agony. Marcus felt like giving him a hard kick.

Dumbledore put his hand on Mrs. Weasley's shoulders and spoke to her for a short while. Mr. Weasley was standing behind her, eyes reddening.

"Clearly, there are many things that have to be explained," he said, turning to the Death Eaters. "Can we all move to Hogwarts?"

Marcus nodded dumbly, and stepped forward, and he saw Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape conjuring stretchers and putting Percy and Adrian on them. Marcus stepped forward, and saw their lifeless bodies, and gasped in shock.

He furiously tried to blink back tears and calm down, but he was starting to cry, in the gasp-y manner, no--he didn't want to think about that.

Antonin hugged him, and he broke down, like a little boy, sobbing uncontrollably.

Marcus was vaguely aware that Fred and George were gawking at him, but really.

After some time, Professor Dumbledore asked if everyone was ready and they set off to Hogwarts castle, the beginning and the end.

Dumbledore spoke to the Death Eaters first, in his Principal's office, to let Mrs. Weasley calm down. He offered Marcus some sherbet lemon, and asked them about their ability to cast magic without wands.

None of the Death Eaters knew about it until today, and they tested their powers a little and found that yes, they could cast magic without wands. Further testing showed that it came from the left hand, the hand with the Dark Mark.

"I guess that explains it," Dumbledore said.

He paused for a while.

"They were excellent students," Dumbledore started.

Marcus sniffed.

"I was thinking--since it was inevitable--that, if you have no objections, that is, we bury them in the school grounds?"

They replied that they weren't too sure about Percy, and that Mulciber could decide about Adrian. Mulciber was considerably less hysterical than Marcus, and he replied that it would be a good idea to, since, like Dumbledore said, he was an excellent student at Hogwarts.

Dumbledore nodded and told them that he was going to leave them alone to calm down, while he talked to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley.

They sat outside the principal's office, along with the members of the Order and the older Weasleys looking at them.

Marcus could feel the Weasleys staring at him, as if to say 'what right did you have to cry like that?'

And there was so much tension, and Marcus felt really uncomfortable. Finally, he decided to speak up.

"I'm sorry," he said to the Weasleys.

They all tried to avoid his gaze, so he continued.

"It's my fault. I convinced Percy to join."

The Weasleys were still not responding. Finally, Fred did.

"You didn't," he said, so softly that Marcus could barely hear him. "I know Percy. He joined of his own accord."

Marcus paused for a while, then he argued back.

"You didn't know Percy."

At that point of time Fred stood up, pinned Marcus to the wall and tried to hit him. And Marcus let him, because it would make everyone feel better.

"Fred, no," Charlie said, but it wasn't very wholehearted.

Fred stopped, when he realised that Marcus wasn't retaliating.

Fred looked at him, and Marcus could see tears in his eyes.

"Hit me back."

"No."

And Fred let him go, and he began to cry.

"It's our fault, isn't it?"

"No."

"Yes it is."

"I don't think we can blame anyone."

"No, it's our fault. We made fun of him too much and he left home."

"Listen, it wasn't your fault."

"I know it is."

"It's as much your fault as it is mine."

"No, you don't get it."

"It's not your fault."

But Fred had returned to his seat, and tears were flowing from his eyes. His brothers were trying to console him, and Marcus could feel the one with the long hair--the one he didn't know, glare at him.

"Honestly--" Antonin began, but Marcus stopped him.

And there they sat, in silence, until Dumbledore and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley came out of the office.

They stared at the scene for a while, and they were quite taken aback to see Fred crying, although he had looked to a side and was frantically wiping off his tears.

"We will have a memorial service down at the land near the Forbidden Forest."

Marcus nodded, and stood up to follow Dumbledore.

*

They stood there in silence, and Marcus tried not to think so much about what was happening, but of better times.

He avoided looking at what was happening, and he ended up staring at the Quidditch pitch.

When they were done, Dumbledore put little markers, and he told the Death Eaters of what would happen to them.

"It has been set, and we cannot change it, so all of you will still be executed. However, due to the consent of Arthur Weasley, he will let all of you choose the venue for your execution; it need not be in the same place, and it will be private."

The Death Eaters nodded, and some said thanks. Marcus wanted to ask about the Dementor and the 'sudden change of plans', but he realised that it wasn't a very good idea to.

Then he stared at the Quidditch pitch, and the idea struck him.

"Can I die after the World Cup finals? I don't care if it's public, but can I be executed after the award ceremony? The finals are just in five days."

Arthur and Dumbledore exchanged a look. They seemed to be considering the information for a while, and then Fred piped up.

"We'll take him there. You know, like guard him and all until it's time for er--you know."

And Marcus looked at him and gave a little smile and Arthur said that it was all right then.

*

The Death Eaters would all be executed on the same day as the start of the World Cup finals. They were a lot more subdued throughout the five days, but at the end of it Scotland got into finals, against Ireland. There was a minor outrage, and some people suggested that the matches had been fixed, because the World Cup this year was hosted in Ireland.

But no, it wasn't, as anyone could tell from the calibre of the two teams. They said their last goodbyes, they had said all they wanted the other time around, before the Hogsmeade execution, by holding a mock memorial service like the one in 'Tuesdays with Morrie', as suggested by Adrian, who had borrowed the book to read.

And so this was it, and it really was. They cried a little, and then parted for their respective venues.

Fred, George and Lee were there to pick Marcus up, and he sat with them. They told Marcus that they would be treating him like a normal person and you know, just to make things clear. Marcus replied that he was grateful for that, then he bought a pair of Omnioculars and Lee dumped a blue-and-white hat on his head. Marcus laughed and said that he wasn't supporting Scotland, but he was a bad liar.

And it was more than Marcus could ever dream of. The charged atmosphere, the glittering stadium, it was all so familiar again and Marcus almost cried, because it was bliss--pure bliss, but crying would ruin it all.

And then the emcee introduced all the players, and Fred, George and Lee screamed particularly loudly when he introduced Oliver Wood and Marcus was trying not to blush or act abnormally.

The match was better than Marcus imagined. The Irish chasers were the best, and yet there was Oliver Wood, and it was so intense and nerve-racking and soon all four of them were grabbing each other incessantly and screaming and cursing and laughing like old friends. And they were, in a way.

And the match carried on for three days, and Marcus was wondering how the players could keep up their energies. Lee had suggested that they take turns sleeping, to replenish their energies, and so they tried but the other three would just scream and shout and the other one couldn't sleep. Occasionally he would think about the other Death Eaters, who were already dead, but he didn't let that get to him, because nothing could be done about it anyway.

At the end of the three exhausting days, Marcus' voice was croaky and they had overspent on snacks and beer and you'd never guess they used to get into fights. Ireland's Seeker was not as good as its Chasers, and because this time their opponent had a superb Keeper, Scotland won.

And they cheered and screamed and yelled, but Marcus' voice was already so hoarse. And they did cry a little, and then there was the award ceremony and then Marcus had to die.

To his surprise, Fred, George and Lee all burst into tears, and they suggested hiding Marcus in the toilet and lying that he managed to escape, but Marcus said that he couldn't.

And so he was led out onto the pitch by security guards, a public execution, and they passed him the potion. And there Marcus was, thinking that he could die happy when someone rushed over and knocked it out of his hands and hit Marcus in the face.

Which was followed by a stampede of people trying to bash him to death. Marcus was caught off-guard, but he let it be, and in the mob the security guards were ignored. The people were venting their frustrations on him, channelling the anger they felt at having their relatives die, and basically they were just hitting him to death.

But Marcus let it be, because he couldn't have died happier and it was good to have these people vent on him so they wouldn't cause trouble elsewhere.

Then, as always, Marcus was proved wrong.

By now, his leg was somewhat broken and he was aware that there was not an inch of his body that didn't hurt and he couldn't stand and he was lying on the ground when oh, he was so wrong.

"STOP! STOP!" Marcus heard. And there was a Scottish accent to it.

And Oliver Wood had pushed his way to the front of the crowd and he stood in front of Marcus. At once, all other people stopped hitting him, and Marcus was there, lying on the ground, at Oliver Wood's feet.

"You lied to me!" He said.

No, I didn't.

"You lied to me! You told me you would join the Falcons!"

What? Oh--that. That was such a long time ago.

Marcus stared up at Oliver, and he decided it would be best to act evil. So he tried to laugh, a sinister laugh, but all he did was to end up coughing because his ribs were broken. So he gave up trying to laugh.

"You think," he said, stopping to cough some more. "You think that I would give up all the power I have from being a Death Eater for Quidditch?"

Marcus tried to laugh again, but only coughed some more.

Oliver Wood appeared to be very panicked, and he ignored Marcus' reply.

"Stand up, Flint."

I can't, you twit.

"I said, stand up."

Marcus looked at Oliver, and he was on the verge of some remark when Oliver stepped forward and tried to pull him up. And Marcus wanted to laugh, but ended up coughing again, blood splattered on Oliver's robes. Marcus felt vaguely stupid, but he couldn't even get the strength to push Oliver away.

"OK, fine, I'm sorry, I lied to you."

Oliver had bit his lip and he was holding Marcus and then he began to sob.

"Don't leave me..."

What?

Marcus did not hear wrong, did he? What did Oliver say?

Maybe it was his ear, or brain, which must have been so bashed up by now he was hearing things, because Oliver continued to sob away, mumbling something that sounded like 'don't leave me'.

And Marcus was felt so bad for him he tried to reply, but ended up coughing blood all over Oliver, who went even more hysterical, and hugged him even tighter.

"Don't cry," he told Oliver, who nodded and continued to cry.

And Marcus was somewhat amused by all this, and he was thinking, I could really die happy now. And there was so much Marcus sacrificed for Oliver, that he would never know.

And the grass was green and the sky was blue and the sun was shining and Marcus was in the middle of a Quidditch pitch in Oliver Wood's arms and it was so much more than he ever asked for.