It was a dark and balmy summer’s night and a lonely figure paced the floor of an upstairs bedroom, in a countryside dwelling. The bedroom was dark, except for the moonlight filtering through a lone window near a rusty metal bed. The frame squeaked as the figure sat on the edge of the bed. The haggard young man did not seam to notice the sad condition of the bed or the untidy room that he was currently in. After only a few seconds perched on the filthy mattress, he quickly jumped up and resumed his pacing once more. He was totally engrossed in contemplating his fate.
A kaleidoscope of thoughts where running through his head. He had failed the mission his master had given him. He knew that he would be lucky to get out of this with his life. If only, he had done what was asked of him. If only he had… the blond young man stopped his pacing as a thought occurred to him. Why? Why could he not do it? Why did he not do it? He had plenty of opportunity. It all seemed so simple now, so easy. The old man had even asked him to do it, but still Draco Malfoy had failed his master. He was supposed to kill Dumbledore. It was his responsibility alone, not Snape’s. Now Snape would get the Dark Lord’s gratitude and Draco would get… What? Draco shivered at the thought of what awaited him and his father. His father… what would happen to his father since he had failed? His mission was after all, an effort to bring his father back in favor with the Dark Lord and to spare his life. Draco felt even more terrified and nervous than before, if it was at all possible. Draco’s dark thoughts and contemplation was interrupted by a door opening from across the cramped room.
Draco whirled around and faced the intruder. Furious at having to wait so long with only his imagination to keep him company, he yelled at the man standing in the door way, “Well? What happened? What did he say? What’s going to happen to me and my father?”
“Calm yourself boy. You will not help yourself or your father, if you can not keep yourself level headed,” sneered the intruder. He hesitated for a moment and then added in a softer tone, “As for your mother.”
Draco held his breath at the man’s last words wondering what he could be talking about. Finally he managed a soft whisper, “My mother… what does my mother have to do with this?”
The intruder stepped into the room and was illuminated by a thin trail of moon light that splashed across the room from the window behind Draco. It revealed the sharp features of his reluctant benefactor, Severus Snape. “She has everything to do with this you stupid boy! Don’t you realize the consequences of what you have done, or not done as in this case? You and your father’ fate are not the only one’s at stake here, but your whole family’s. They will pay for your failure. They have paid for them. You had been your family’s last chance to be redeemed in the eyes of our Lord. Now that chance is gone, and the Dark Lord is rarely generous enough to keep handing out more chances.”
Draco cowered at Snape’s outburst and took a step backward, the cold dampness of the window pressed hard against his back. Draco managed to squeak out, “So whh...what happens now. You talk as if it is already…”
Snape sighed, “I’m afraid that it is already too late for your mother. The Dark Lord was not impressed with her interference. She is dead Draco. I am sorry.”
Draco reeled back, as if he had been slapped hard across the cheek, hitting his head against the window. A sharp pain seared his senses. His hands where beginning to shake and his shoulders where beginning to heave in silent tears. His mind was numb with grief and shock. It was his fault. He had killed his mother. If only he had… Only one word slipped from his mouth in a scream as he slowly slid to the cold hard floor in agony. “No!”
Hundreds of miles away, in another dwelling in the middle of no where, another soul was being tortured, but in a different way. This was the painful agonizing torture of the physical body. It was unbearable and his screams pierced the dark night over and over again until he could scream no more, but it was not the pain that he was worried about. It was what he might say. What he might reveal. He was determined to keep silent. He could not let them know the secrets that he carried within, no matter what the consequences. He just wished they would hurry up and kill him, before he betrayed the ones he loved. He could not live with himself if this happened, but he didn’t know how much longer he could hold out.
The pain stopped for a moment and his torturer knelt down beside him. “I will find out what you are hiding from us you filthy traitor! How dare you come in here and think you could spy on us! Did you actually think you could get away with it?” roared a vicious wolf like voice from above him. “You are one of us, or at least you where. How could you betray your own kind, your calling? You where shunned by all those you claimed to called friends, who have the nerve to call you a freak, someone dangerous and someone not to be trusted. We accepted you as you are, as one of us. Then you have the gall to turn on us. You have only yourself to blame for this. You have damned yourself, Remus and those that you love. Now tell me what I want to know and I’ll end your suffering and your pathetic life.”
Remus was determined not to talk. He would not. His torturer once again pointed his wand at his crumbled figure and shouted a spell. Before the light enveloped Remus, he managed to shout out just one word before he fell limp onto the dirty, blood covered floor, “No!”