Bittersweet Symphony
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Harry Potter › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
5
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1,431
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3
Recommended:
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Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
5
Views:
1,431
Reviews:
3
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Ch 4 - Private Universe
See chapter one for disclaimer
CHAPTER FOUR - PRIVATE UNIVERSE
No time no place to talk about the weather
the promise of love is hard to ignore
you said the chance wasn\'t getting any better
labour of love is ours to endure
the highest branch on the apple tree
it was my favourite place to be
I could hear them braking free
but they could not see me
I will run for shelter
endless summer lift the curse
it feels like nothing matters
in our private universe
Private Universe - Crowded House
The only sound in the dark cell was the breathing of its two inhabitants, entwined together as they had been almost every night since their capture. Theirs was the strangest of relationships, but they had come to one another's aid many times in the six months they had been prisoners.
The young blonde woman lifted her head from her companion's chest and looked slowly around the room, "We're going to die here aren't we?" she asked with more curiosity than fear in her voice.
The older dark haired man opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling, "Yes, my dear, I do believe we are," he replied wincing in pain as he moved to pull her back down to his chest.
"Why do you think they chose us? Do think it's coincidental or were we six targeted for a reason?"
The man sighed thoughtfully, they had had this conversation many times before trying to come up with theories, but he found to his amusement that his young companion had quite the imagination and tended to go off into her own little world. "I have thought about this a great deal," he said, stroking her silky hair, "If it were just me then I would have to say that I were targeted, but it just makes no sense to take someone like you, so I think that perhaps they chose us at random."
"Because you're so evil?" she asked conversationally.
He chuckled and then grabbed his ribs in pain, "What do you mean?" he asked as the pain subsided.
"You think that you're a target because you're so evil. That could be why they torture you more than the rest of us, couldn't it?"
He turned to her, "Quite possibly. A taste of my own medicine you might say."
"But that's silly," she said as she sat up and scooted back against the wall. He moved so that his head was in her lap and she began to stroke his hair as she did every night. She knew he was in pain constantly and this was the only was he could get to sleep.
"I mean, torturing you isn't going to make any difference, if anything it's going to make it worse, because if we ever do get out of here you'll do terrible things to the people who hurt you and to their families won't you?"
"It never fails to amaze me how quickly you got into my head," he said closing his eyes.
"People tend to show me more about themselves than they would to anyone else because they think I'm mad," she said quietly.
"Why do you fight on their side? You would be more than welcome on ours," he asked and she could tell that sleep was almost upon him.
"Because I believe in what I'm fighting for, the same reason you fight on yours." Her voice had taken on the dreamy quality, which meant that she was getting tired.
"But you do not hate us like the rest of your side does."
"I can't hate for your beliefs, then I really would be a loony." She looked at him and saw that he was asleep. She leant down and kissed him softly, "But don't worry Love, I will kill you if I have to," she whispered and began to hum herself a lullaby.
~
Six Months Ago
She was cold, that was what had woken her up, that and a soft buzzing. She opened her eyes and without moving tried to see where she was, although she had a suspicion that she already knew the answer. She had been captured.
The last thing she remembered was going into the new bookshop in Diagon Alley that morning, at least she thought it was that morning, she didn't know what time it was or even what day it was.
"˜They must have been quick,' she mused, "˜to take an Order member in broad daylight. I had no idea that Death Eaters were so clever.' She had never feared death, having seen it from an early age, in fact there wasn't much that she did fear.
After assessing that she was alone, she pulled herself up from the cool hard floor where she had awoken and tried to get her eyes to adjust to the dark room, at least she thought it was a room. Her hand instinctively went to the back of her ear for her wand and on finding it missing, searched the rest of her person, knowing at the same time that she wouldn't find it. Arms outstretched in front of her she tried to get her bearings. Two smooth walls, twenty paces across, a third wall which was bigger than the previous two and which she correctly guessed was the back wall. She stepped forward slowly, hoping to find a door of some kind on the other wall. She paused for a moment to listen to the buzzing which had got slowly louder as she approached the final wall. She pulled her hands in to her chest for a moment, waiting for the bad feeling she had, to pass. When it didn't she took a deep breath, put her hands out in front of her and stepped forward.
The instant her fingertips came in touch with the fourth wall, she felt stuck to it. Every hair on her body was prickling and her entire nervous system felt like it was on fire. With all her strength she threw her body backwards, breaking the connection, as she did, the room was suddenly illuminated.
She lay on the floor panting and hugging herself, shielding her eyes from the unnaturally bright light while trying to get a look at the fourth wall, which she assumed was charmed with some form of the Cruciatus curse. She was surprised to see that it was in fact entirely made of glass, and that there was a man standing on the other side of the glass.
"You're not a Death Eater," she said calmly, ignoring his strange clothes and trying to get her skin to stop twitching.
"No I am not," he replied, with a strange half smile, "I'm with the Ministry."
The woman smiled at him. "Oh good, I was a little concerned that I had been captured and was being held prisoner, and that just wouldn't do, I have to take care of my father you see. So, you are from the Ministry of Magic?"
The man smiled again but the smile didn't reach his eyes and the woman knew before he even spoke that she was in real danger. A tiny curl of fear settled in her stomach as the man spoke again.
"The Ministry of Magic? Oh no, Miss Lovegood. I work for The Ministry of Defence, and I'm afraid you have been captured and you are our prisoner." And with that he turned and walked down the corridor, ignoring the protests of the occupants of the other five cells.
~
Rodolphus Lestrange didn't mind being tied down in some situations. This however, wasn't one of them. He was tied to a table by what felt like metal cuffs on his wrists and ankles. He tried to look around but his head was also being held still so all he could see was the metal criss-crossing framework that made up the ceiling and that room looked endlessly huge.
There were at least a dozen people moving around him adjusting buttons on strange machines and speaking to each other with words he had never heard before. He was sure they were English and they were all dressed like a Muggle Doctor he had once tortured in his own office.
"Where am I? Who the hell are you people? Do you have any idea of who I am?" he demanded in his rich, cultured voice, trying not to show his unease at the predicament he found himself in.
He recognised the man who approached him. He had seen the man the day before, speaking to the occupant of the next cell before walking away despite his protests and the protests of the others he could hear. Others, two of whose voices he recognised as Patricia Parkinson and Marcus Flint. He hadn't been too concerned until he watched them wheel away the struggling young girl from next door. He listened to hours of her screaming, then watched as they wheeled her back completely still.
They had done the same with another captive, a red headed man that Rodolphus was sure was a Weasley, but when the wheeled him back they had put him in the same cell as the girl. The screaming hadn't affected him, as he'd heard enough of it in his adult life, until he realised that he would probably be receiving the same treatment.
"You are in a laboratory, we are the British Ministry of Defence, and you are Rodolphus Lestrange. I think that answers all your questions," the man said pleasantly as he stuck the needle in the Death Eaters arm and drew some blood.
Rodolphus looked at him, with a smile that usually caused grown men to shiver in fear. "They will come for me. They will come for me and you will all pay. The Dark Lord will rip you apart, destroy you all, and your Ministry."
The Muggle didn't seem fazed by this at all, "Mr Lestrange, I think you will find that it us who will be victorious and you and your world that will be no more once we have finished with it. This may hurt a little." As the wizard who had endured more than a dozen rounds of the Cruciatus curse in silence, began to scream, the occupants of the five other cells through the door and down the long corridor, feared for their lives even more.
~
He came around to the sound of voices and hand running fingers through his hair. Bella used to do that to him at night, before Azkaban stole the last of her mind. He opened his eyes and saw that he was half lying on the floor with his head in a young womans lap. He knew there were worse places he could have been so he closed his eyes again and listened to the discussion.
"Luna, do you know who he is, what he's done?" asked the man angrily.
"It doesn't matter here Charlie," replied the woman who was stroking his hair, "They did to him what they did to us, and it looks like they did it worse to him."
Rodolphus had to agree with her on that, he didn't ever remember feeling so beaten and broken. The fact that it was Muggles that had done it to him just made him feel worse.
"And I can assure you that he deserved every single minute of it. You've heard the stories of what he and his wife did to the Longbottoms, and that's not even the half of it."
Rodolphus waited for her to push him away in disgust and wanted to get up and beat the Weasley to a bloody pulp. He was not concerned about the young witch finding out just how nasty he was except that he was very comfortable where he was and did not want to move.
He was pleasantly surprised when she ignored the red headed man and carried on stroking his hair, singing softly under her breath. He knew then that this girl was something special.
CHAPTER FOUR - PRIVATE UNIVERSE
No time no place to talk about the weather
the promise of love is hard to ignore
you said the chance wasn\'t getting any better
labour of love is ours to endure
the highest branch on the apple tree
it was my favourite place to be
I could hear them braking free
but they could not see me
I will run for shelter
endless summer lift the curse
it feels like nothing matters
in our private universe
Private Universe - Crowded House
The only sound in the dark cell was the breathing of its two inhabitants, entwined together as they had been almost every night since their capture. Theirs was the strangest of relationships, but they had come to one another's aid many times in the six months they had been prisoners.
The young blonde woman lifted her head from her companion's chest and looked slowly around the room, "We're going to die here aren't we?" she asked with more curiosity than fear in her voice.
The older dark haired man opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling, "Yes, my dear, I do believe we are," he replied wincing in pain as he moved to pull her back down to his chest.
"Why do you think they chose us? Do think it's coincidental or were we six targeted for a reason?"
The man sighed thoughtfully, they had had this conversation many times before trying to come up with theories, but he found to his amusement that his young companion had quite the imagination and tended to go off into her own little world. "I have thought about this a great deal," he said, stroking her silky hair, "If it were just me then I would have to say that I were targeted, but it just makes no sense to take someone like you, so I think that perhaps they chose us at random."
"Because you're so evil?" she asked conversationally.
He chuckled and then grabbed his ribs in pain, "What do you mean?" he asked as the pain subsided.
"You think that you're a target because you're so evil. That could be why they torture you more than the rest of us, couldn't it?"
He turned to her, "Quite possibly. A taste of my own medicine you might say."
"But that's silly," she said as she sat up and scooted back against the wall. He moved so that his head was in her lap and she began to stroke his hair as she did every night. She knew he was in pain constantly and this was the only was he could get to sleep.
"I mean, torturing you isn't going to make any difference, if anything it's going to make it worse, because if we ever do get out of here you'll do terrible things to the people who hurt you and to their families won't you?"
"It never fails to amaze me how quickly you got into my head," he said closing his eyes.
"People tend to show me more about themselves than they would to anyone else because they think I'm mad," she said quietly.
"Why do you fight on their side? You would be more than welcome on ours," he asked and she could tell that sleep was almost upon him.
"Because I believe in what I'm fighting for, the same reason you fight on yours." Her voice had taken on the dreamy quality, which meant that she was getting tired.
"But you do not hate us like the rest of your side does."
"I can't hate for your beliefs, then I really would be a loony." She looked at him and saw that he was asleep. She leant down and kissed him softly, "But don't worry Love, I will kill you if I have to," she whispered and began to hum herself a lullaby.
~
Six Months Ago
She was cold, that was what had woken her up, that and a soft buzzing. She opened her eyes and without moving tried to see where she was, although she had a suspicion that she already knew the answer. She had been captured.
The last thing she remembered was going into the new bookshop in Diagon Alley that morning, at least she thought it was that morning, she didn't know what time it was or even what day it was.
"˜They must have been quick,' she mused, "˜to take an Order member in broad daylight. I had no idea that Death Eaters were so clever.' She had never feared death, having seen it from an early age, in fact there wasn't much that she did fear.
After assessing that she was alone, she pulled herself up from the cool hard floor where she had awoken and tried to get her eyes to adjust to the dark room, at least she thought it was a room. Her hand instinctively went to the back of her ear for her wand and on finding it missing, searched the rest of her person, knowing at the same time that she wouldn't find it. Arms outstretched in front of her she tried to get her bearings. Two smooth walls, twenty paces across, a third wall which was bigger than the previous two and which she correctly guessed was the back wall. She stepped forward slowly, hoping to find a door of some kind on the other wall. She paused for a moment to listen to the buzzing which had got slowly louder as she approached the final wall. She pulled her hands in to her chest for a moment, waiting for the bad feeling she had, to pass. When it didn't she took a deep breath, put her hands out in front of her and stepped forward.
The instant her fingertips came in touch with the fourth wall, she felt stuck to it. Every hair on her body was prickling and her entire nervous system felt like it was on fire. With all her strength she threw her body backwards, breaking the connection, as she did, the room was suddenly illuminated.
She lay on the floor panting and hugging herself, shielding her eyes from the unnaturally bright light while trying to get a look at the fourth wall, which she assumed was charmed with some form of the Cruciatus curse. She was surprised to see that it was in fact entirely made of glass, and that there was a man standing on the other side of the glass.
"You're not a Death Eater," she said calmly, ignoring his strange clothes and trying to get her skin to stop twitching.
"No I am not," he replied, with a strange half smile, "I'm with the Ministry."
The woman smiled at him. "Oh good, I was a little concerned that I had been captured and was being held prisoner, and that just wouldn't do, I have to take care of my father you see. So, you are from the Ministry of Magic?"
The man smiled again but the smile didn't reach his eyes and the woman knew before he even spoke that she was in real danger. A tiny curl of fear settled in her stomach as the man spoke again.
"The Ministry of Magic? Oh no, Miss Lovegood. I work for The Ministry of Defence, and I'm afraid you have been captured and you are our prisoner." And with that he turned and walked down the corridor, ignoring the protests of the occupants of the other five cells.
~
Rodolphus Lestrange didn't mind being tied down in some situations. This however, wasn't one of them. He was tied to a table by what felt like metal cuffs on his wrists and ankles. He tried to look around but his head was also being held still so all he could see was the metal criss-crossing framework that made up the ceiling and that room looked endlessly huge.
There were at least a dozen people moving around him adjusting buttons on strange machines and speaking to each other with words he had never heard before. He was sure they were English and they were all dressed like a Muggle Doctor he had once tortured in his own office.
"Where am I? Who the hell are you people? Do you have any idea of who I am?" he demanded in his rich, cultured voice, trying not to show his unease at the predicament he found himself in.
He recognised the man who approached him. He had seen the man the day before, speaking to the occupant of the next cell before walking away despite his protests and the protests of the others he could hear. Others, two of whose voices he recognised as Patricia Parkinson and Marcus Flint. He hadn't been too concerned until he watched them wheel away the struggling young girl from next door. He listened to hours of her screaming, then watched as they wheeled her back completely still.
They had done the same with another captive, a red headed man that Rodolphus was sure was a Weasley, but when the wheeled him back they had put him in the same cell as the girl. The screaming hadn't affected him, as he'd heard enough of it in his adult life, until he realised that he would probably be receiving the same treatment.
"You are in a laboratory, we are the British Ministry of Defence, and you are Rodolphus Lestrange. I think that answers all your questions," the man said pleasantly as he stuck the needle in the Death Eaters arm and drew some blood.
Rodolphus looked at him, with a smile that usually caused grown men to shiver in fear. "They will come for me. They will come for me and you will all pay. The Dark Lord will rip you apart, destroy you all, and your Ministry."
The Muggle didn't seem fazed by this at all, "Mr Lestrange, I think you will find that it us who will be victorious and you and your world that will be no more once we have finished with it. This may hurt a little." As the wizard who had endured more than a dozen rounds of the Cruciatus curse in silence, began to scream, the occupants of the five other cells through the door and down the long corridor, feared for their lives even more.
~
He came around to the sound of voices and hand running fingers through his hair. Bella used to do that to him at night, before Azkaban stole the last of her mind. He opened his eyes and saw that he was half lying on the floor with his head in a young womans lap. He knew there were worse places he could have been so he closed his eyes again and listened to the discussion.
"Luna, do you know who he is, what he's done?" asked the man angrily.
"It doesn't matter here Charlie," replied the woman who was stroking his hair, "They did to him what they did to us, and it looks like they did it worse to him."
Rodolphus had to agree with her on that, he didn't ever remember feeling so beaten and broken. The fact that it was Muggles that had done it to him just made him feel worse.
"And I can assure you that he deserved every single minute of it. You've heard the stories of what he and his wife did to the Longbottoms, and that's not even the half of it."
Rodolphus waited for her to push him away in disgust and wanted to get up and beat the Weasley to a bloody pulp. He was not concerned about the young witch finding out just how nasty he was except that he was very comfortable where he was and did not want to move.
He was pleasantly surprised when she ignored the red headed man and carried on stroking his hair, singing softly under her breath. He knew then that this girl was something special.