I awoke to pitch black. It took me several minutes to re-orientate myself. Where was I?
Oh yeah, the Riddle Manor.
There had been people…Death Eaters…talking…a break out of Azkaban…a snake…getting caught…
Caught.
I sat bolt upright. I had no clue where I was, but I had a strong feeling that I didn’t want to be here long. The floor I had been laying on was hard. There was a distinct smell of mold in the air. Not a single ray of light found its way into my cell. I held my hand up in front of my face, I could see nothing.
On my hands and knees I crawled around, examining my surroundings. The walls were made of the same rough stone as the floor. Once or twice my hands hit a spider web or a patch of mildew. I quickly withdrew it, hating the feel. Then my blind fingers found a crack in the wall, I quickly felt all the way around it. There were no spider webs here. I found hinges. It was the door.
My only method of escape. There were no handles, and when I pressed my eyes and ears to the cracks, no noise or light came through. That must mean that it was spelled. I had read about wizard’s cells. This might not even be the real door, just a part of wall spelled to be a door.
I sat back down on the floor. My entire cell was about 6-by-6 feet (I could tell because I could lay down on and touch both walls with my hands and feet). There were no other items in here, not even a chamber pot. Which meant they had to let me out, to feed me as well. Unless…
Unless I was locked in here to die.
I quickly dismissed that thought; they would want to question me. I decided it would be best if I slept and built up my mental defenses for when they did come to question me. You see, I had been trained in the skill of Occlumency, and I could moderately throw off the Imperius curse. But who knows what torture methods the Death Eaters had newly developed. Actually, my future looked pretty bleak, no one who had been captured had ever survived. Sleep would be the best way to go. Even though the stone floor was hard, and the damp smell was giving me a headache, I found sleep very easily.
“Eh, Merona! C’mere!” Walt called me from inside our janitors’ closet. Inside it was very roomy. Because we had control of the basic layout of the Ministry of Magic, it was easy to take space (in small amounts, of course) from other offices and then add them to ours. The result was a large room complete with plush couches, a house elf and various posters in top quality condition.
Walt was sitting on a couch opposite a tall, bald black man. The dark man sat stiffly as though unused to such quarters. When I entered he turned and fixed me with a piercing stare, I noticed a gold ring in one of his ears.
“This ‘ere is Mr. Kingsley Shacklebolt,” Walt said, clearly enjoying demonstrating his superiority as Head Janitor. I had just acquired my job a month ago, it wasn’t my typical vocation, housekeeping.
“Hello, Mr. Shacklebolt,” I said somewhat nervously, I extended my hand. Shacklebolt looked at it, then looked back at me.
“Mr. Smithers has been telling me some interesting stories about you, Miss Knowles.” He stated in a grave voice.
My insides quivered, I shot Walt an angry look. About a week into my job, the Daily Prophet had begun producing headlines about Albus Dumbledore being a fool. Having just graduated from Hogwarts two years ago, I had vented to Tonks, one of my fellow classmates, about how unfairly they were treating him. Walt must have overheard.
“Was he really?” I asked, trying to keep my voice light, “And what were those particular stories about?”
“It would be best if you would step outside with me, Miss Knowles.” He said, standing up. He must be over a foot taller than my 5’2”. I was very intimidated, nervously running my fingers through my dark hair; I followed him out the door. Walt looked very pleased with himself. He had wanted me fired ever since I had turned him down on his offer for a date.
“Are you Merona Knowles?” Mr. Shacklebolt questioned.
“Yes,” my voice came out as a squeak.
“Did you or did you not converse with Miss Nymphadora Tonks on the morn of June 25th?”
“Yes, but””
“And were you of the opinion that the Minister of Magic was wrong and that Albus Dumbledore is justified in spreading false rumors that could said the entire wizarding world in panic?”
“They are not false”” I protested, I mean, what had happened to freedom of press?
“Please remember that employees of the Ministry are to be of the same opinion as their noble Minister at all times.” Mr. Shacklebolt thundered on. While his voice sounded serious, his hand was clearly conveying another message, he handed me a small slip of paper.
“Wha”?”
Shacklebolt shook his head and continued, I unfolded the piece of parchment:
The Headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix are at number 12, Grimmauld Place.
“…I will let you off on a warning this time Miss Knowles, but in the future, please remember your duties to the Ministry.” Shacklebolt added in a hardly audible whisper, “Meet me at the visitors entrance at 6 p.m. tonight.”
Feeling very bewildered, I nodded and carefully pushed the piece of paper into my pocket, before returning to the janitor’s closet where Walt was wearing a triumphant smile on his face.
At 6 p.m. I hurried out of the janitors’ closet to the main hall. As usual, the golden fountain and sky blue ceiling raised my spirits with their bright colors and soft musical sounds. I turned to the oddly placed phone booth at one end and tentatively stepped in.
At once, the phone booth began to whirl and the next thing I knew I was out in London. A warm breeze greeted me as I stepped out, ruffling my hair.
“Merona!” I turned; it was Tonks, waving enthusiastically at me. Standing near her was the black man from my inquiry, Shacklebolt. Confused, I crossed over to them.
“See? I told you she’d come!” Tonks was informing Shacklebolt happily. Her hair was blue today, and shoulder-length.
“Yes, I came,” I interrupted impatiently, “but what am I here for?”
“You didn’t tell her, Kingsley?” Tonks asked bewildered, giving Shacklebolt an annoyed look, “Why you’re here to””
“Tonks, that is quite enough.” Shacklebolt thundered.
I smiled, despite myself; it was quite Tonks’s style to blurt out secrets that usually were best staying inside. I had learned that lesson the hard way at Hogwarts.
“Come, we haven’t got much time,” Shacklebolt added. He nodded at me, “You know how to Apparate, yes?”
“Of course she knows how to Apparate, you fool, who do you think was there to keep me from going to Turkey by accident during my test?”
“Tonks,” I beseeched her, she shut up, I turned to Shacklebolt, “Yes, I do know how to Apparate.”
“Good, then remember what was on that piece of paper I gave you this morning and Apparate there.” He told me, he tapped his wand and vanished.
Tonks gave me a goofy grin. “See you on the other side, Merona.” And she too vanished.
Against my better judgment, I thought of the words on the slip of parchment. Number 12 Grimmauld Place, I then tapped my wand.
At once I felt that rush of wind around my body, colors and sounds blurred together racing around me. Then it all gradually began to slow down.
My feet hit cold cement. My robes billowed in front of me in the warm wind. I was standing in front of an ordinary Muggle complex. I saw a street sign.
Grimmauld Place.
I searched the buildings. There was number 10, and number 11 and number 13 and”wait a minute, what had happened to number 12? I was about to voice a cry of frustration when I heard Shacklebolt speak again.
“Just think about what you read.”
I turned, he was standing behind me. Tonks was nowhere to be seen. Shacklebolt removed the slip of parchment from my hand and set it to fire with the tip of his wand.
“Precautions,” he explained, “now just do as I told you.”
What? I thought, Number 12 Grimmauld Place? Then behind me I heard a shifting, numbers 11 and 13 were moving, in between them was number 12. I gaped.
“Come in,” Shacklebolt said, leading the way. Nervously I followed.
“Up you get, missy, naptime’s over!” I was being kicked. Hands grabbed me and hoisted me up under my shoulders. I stirred, and licked my lips; they were moist and had a sweetly bitter taste.
“Tha’s right, you get on yer feet now.” The voice was rough. I opened my eyes. The walls of my cell had disappeared; instead I was standing in a brightly lit dungeon with two other Death Eaters, cloaked in black. Their faces were obscured to me by a filmy black cloth. A third Death Eater was lifting me up. After he saw I was somewhat awake, he let go.
I stumbled a little bit, blinking in the bright light. My mind was moving slowly. The Death Eater scuttled over to where the other two were standing. Then, as if they were one single organism, the three of them swept towards me. I felt very disoriented.
“What is your name?” asked the first Death Eater.
I felt as though I had to answer. A small voice inside told me I shouldn’t. I hesitated.
“Your name?” continued the first Death Eater.
Answer him urged one voice in my head.
Are you sure you want to? replied another, quieter.
ANSWER!
“Merona!” I gasped. My head hurt. The voice had screamed with such force.
“Very good, Merona what?”
No, wait”
ANSWER!
“Knowles!” I spat out. My head began to spin as the quiet voice berated me.
Don’t answer his questions, that’s what he wants you to do!
Why shouldn’t you do what he wants you to do? Its easier this way.
Easier for what?
“Splendid, well then, Ms. Knowles, what were you doing here?” continued the first Death Eater, as though my internal struggle were not occurring. Though he must have known, my nails were digging into my palms with such ferocity, blood was starting to seep through.
DON’T ANSWER! The warning signs were screaming in my head.
Answer him you fool. My head was really starting to hurt, I remained silent, biting my lip hard.
“It would be best if you answered our questions, Ms. Knowles.” Spoke the second Death Eater. “It’ll be less” painless” that way.”
DON’T GIVE IN! You’re stronger than them! Persisted one voice.
JUST ANSWER HIM! HOW HARD IS THAT?
“My head.” I mumbled, rubbing my temples. I then noticed that my robes were wrinkled, as though they had born worn for quite a while, and there was the fierce scent of mold in the air. The blood from my palms trickled down the sides of my face.
“Your head will feel a lot better once you answer our questions.” Replied the first Death Eater smoothly.
How had my robes collected so much mildew?
Don’t answer him! Remember Tonks! Remember Kingsley!
SHUT UP! ANSWER THE FREAKING QUESTION!
“My head!” I wailed, like a little child. I didn’t have any quiet to think. There was something I needed to be doing, I felt that nagging sensation, something I should be doing but I wasn’t.
“Answer us, and you’ll avoid insanity, Ms. Knowles.” The second Death Eater spoke. They were circling around me. I stopped, insanity? I wasn’t insane; I couldn’t be insane…could I?
“Yes, insanity Ms. Knowles, your mind is slowly crumbling.” Continued the second Death Eater. “That bitter taste on your lips?” Here I licked my lips again, and tasted that same foul taste. “It’s a potion prepared especially for you, I have the antidote in my robe right here.”
He pulled out a little blue vial and dangled it in front of my face. I stared at it, confused. “After about an hour, you mind splits into two arguing sides. You begin to doubt yourself. You are constantly bewildered; slowly your mind begins to tear apart your very cells. It will destroy you.”
“Answer. Answer. Answer. Answer.” They continued to circle. The short Death Eater had taken to chanting. The sound of his gruff voice scratched my ears.
“Your voice,” I complained, feeling panic rising within me, “it’s so piercing.”
“Answer. Answer. Answer. Answer.”
“Please. Please just stop.”
“Answer. Answer. Answer. Answer.”
DON’T DO IT! YOU CAN LAST!
ANSWER HIM YOU FOOL! ANSWER THE QUESTION!
“Answer. Answer. Answer. Answer.”
“Stop it, please, I’m begging you!” I cried out desperately. I closed my eyes and began rubbing my temples furiously. My long nails began scratching into my forehead, peeling away skin.
“Answer. Answer. Answer. Answer.” Continued the squat Death Eater.
“Even your inner voices are urging you to take the simpler route.” Continued the first Death Eater. “It would be so much easier if you would just answer.”
“Answer. Answer. Answer. Answer.”
I groaned.
ANSWER! ANSWER! ANSWER! ANSWER!
Don’t give in! You can’t answer! You can’t answer! You must protect the Order! You can’t answer!
ANSWER! ANSWER! ANSWER! ANSWER!
“Answer. Answer. Answer. Answer.”
Protect the Order! You can not answer!
“I-I-I” I sputtered, I felt so confused. The lights were so bright, I was still rather sleepy, and I couldn’t concentrate.
“Yes?” Asked the first Death Eater.
Don’t
ANSWER!
“I CAN’T!” The words exploded from my lips upon their own accord. My head felt a lot clearer as a result though, I suddenly remembered why I was here, and felt grateful that I hadn’t answered.
“You can’t answer?” The first Death Eater asked softly. The third had stopped chanting. They were surrounding me, the second pulled out a wand.
“We have easier methods of pulling our answers out of our prisoners.” He sneered. His wand tip touched my chin. I trembled and held my breath.
SLAM!
The second Death Eater turned to locate the noise, relieved, I took a step back and gulped in the fresh air. Then gazed at the source of my relief.
Another Death Eater, how many were there? He was striding forward. He had neglected to put his hood up, showing his scrawny face. One of his hands gleamed silver.
A silver hand.
I could almost hear it clicking in my brain. Wormtail. This was Wormtail, also known as Peter Pettigrew, stinky little traitor, he was now high in You-Know-Who’s regards.
“Mason, are you through yet?” His voice sounded young and high-pitched in comparison to my three tormentors.
“Wormtail,” began the first Death Eater nervously, “er-no.”
“No?” Wormtail asked, flexing his silver hand. “You have been interrogating her for three hours and you have not found out anything?”
Three hours? Had it really been that long? My head spun, I seemed to have lost all means of predicting time.
“W-we did find out her name!” Sputtered the third nervously.
“Ah really, and what would that be?” Asked Wormtail coolly, surveying me from head to toe. I became very self-conscious, which is rather silly in a predicament such as this, to worry about small vanities. But I did, my hair was dirty, I hadn’t bathed in days, I must have slept longer than I thought. My robes were dirty and my face was smudged with dirt and blood.
“Merona Knowles.” The second put in silkily, ill-disguised loathing for Wormtail in his voice.
“Merona Knowles?” Wormtail asked, giving me a curious look. “We’ll look into that.”
“In the meantime?” Asked the first.
“In the meantime sir,”Wormtail corrected, “you will return her to her cell, the Dark Lord may want to question her.”
For some reason, the thought of returning to that dark, airless room scared me more than the rest of the ordeal combined. To be locked up there, for countless days, for now I was sure it was far longer than a week. I don’t know how, but I just did. Perhaps it was because my hair wasn’t this limp after a day of not washing it.
My robes were dirty, I was overall filthy and babbling like a halfwit, tears sprouted to my eyes.
“Don’t put me back in there!” I pleaded to Wormtail. The second Death Eater had uncorked the antidote and cut off my cries by pouring it down my throat.
Wormtail paused, the other Death Eaters sucked in their breaths, while their loathing for him was clear, they did not wish to aggravate him. He turned and strode until he was face to face with me. I was pleased to see he was a bit shorter than me.
“You have trespassed private property and refused to be helpful to your captors!” He screamed, his voice resonating oddly in my ears. “Do not ask me for help!”
He turned to the three Death Eaters, “Be gone with her!” He said.
Maybe it was finally finding someone who was shorter than me or the antidote, but I had a miraculous confidence boost.
“I will never surrender information to scum like you!” I shrieked at Wormtail.
Two of the Death Eaters grabbed me by the shoulders and began escorting me away.
“Shortie, half-man! Shrew!!” I yelled at him. “Bastard! I’ll bet your mother threw away that bit of finger the Ministry sent her when you supposedly perished!”
Wormtail turned for a second time. The Death Eaters had also stopped. I could almost sense them eager for me to continue, to finally give the brat his worth.
“Repeat that.” Wormtail snarled menacingly.
“Which one?” I answered. “The fact that your mother was finally glad to be rid of a worthless burden such as yourself and have a nice shiny award in your place?”
Wormtail raised his silver hand. It gleamed in the bright lights. I spat at his face. He then slapped me. I immediately fell unconscious.