InsaneJournal

Alastor made sure that their guest was made comfortable by bringing in the most uncomfortable chair in the entire Department, the one that pinched your arse with a split in the wooden seat. Carrow was deposited there, to wait in the interrogation room until Alastor was damn good and ready, with her mouth still magically sealed, and her hands still bound from before.

When Alastor finally came through the door, he slammed a folder full of parchment down on the table between them and sat opposite her. “We know you’re guilty as sin, Carrow. Don’t try to play fucking games with us. We’re giving you a chance to sing, and avoid a Dementor’s Kiss. Tell us what you know about your Death Eater friends.” He then raised his wand to lift the charm that silenced her.

“You know what’s missing from this place, Moody?” Alecto asked immediately, giving the interrogation room a long, full sweeping assessment. “Some shit on the walls. Maybe some rotten guts. Would really liven up the place, right? Show em what you Aurors are really full of.”

“Aye, we can start with yours. I ain’t shy about how I get the information. And I ain’t talking about the shit that usually comes out of your mouth, either. Now, stop wasting our fucking time and talk.”

Alecto remained quiet for several moments, eyes alight in amusement. She settled back in the chair as if it were the most comfortable seat in the world and slouched. “Yes, Moody, let’s talk about my friends. Let’s talk about all my li’ Order friends, shall we? Funny, innit, how they didn’t get all of you lil’ vigilantes now did they? An’ here they are, lettin’ the fox back into the henhouse once more. Do you and those Longbottoms ever sit and look at each other in the face and feel all sorry like for sending your lil’ friends to prison?”

Without even batting an eye, Alastor called Alecto’s suggestive accusation that he and the Longbottoms were part of the Order with a bluff that would’ve won him the largest bet in a poker game. “You keep talking bullshit, and I ain’t taking it. I said, tell me about your goddamn Death Eater friends! Who was responsible for nabbing Macnair, during his trial? Looking for names.”

"Potters. Lupin. McGonagall," she hissed, then turned to face the magical mirror that stretched out across the expanse of one wall. "Bones. None of 'em had to pay did they? I don't have to prove it, Moody. I just got to plant the idea to all your Auror friends and the funny lil' man behind the glass. Who is it again? Oh, the lion, that's right. He finds just a lil' trace of blood and he'll hunt it down. Always did like that about 'im. You? You’re nothing but a mangy, yippy dog!"

Alastor laughed, a mean rumble of a laugh that didn't take Carrow's threats seriously. "Grasping at straws, eh? Plant all you fucking want. These people were cleared years ago, or have you finally gone barking mad after spending all that time in Azkaban?" He leaned forward to sneer directly into her face, so close that drops of spit from his mouth flew at her. "Your fucking game isn't going to work, woman. You may not cooperate here, but we're going to be following your arse, every step. We know you're active, all we have to do is wait for you to fuck up, then it will be my privilege to put you down, you motherfucking cur."

"Maybe I'll talk to that Skeeter bint. Seems like she'll write anything an' people'll believe it. Wanna call my bluff, Moody? Someone out there best be checkin' jus' who did the clearing on those names. Might sound familiar. Yours. Longbottom. Meadowes. Prewett.” At this last name, her smile, revealing its rotting array of teeth, widened. "Ickle Prewett. He was one o' yours once, innit? I bet you brought him in to your lil’ Order. Brought him ‘in an’ then turned your back on ‘im to save your own worthless hide. He was faithful to the very end, falling on his own sword like that. That’s what all you hidden ones did, watched as your friends went down in flames. How does it feel, Moody, knowing your boy prolly hates you just a lil' bit for it, that nasty betrayal? How they all hate the rest of you jus’ a lil bit for it now."

Now Alastor was really pissed off. Not because he believed the taunting words that spilled like hateful poison from Carrow’s mouth, but because she was getting away with it and there was nothing he could do to stop her. If he could, Alastor would’ve punched Carrow repeatedly in the face to wipe that damned smirk away, though he reckoned she’d still be smiling with all her teeth knocked out, just to fuck with his mind. There was no way he could react in anger without tipping off the Aurors who were taking note of the interrogation, behind the mirror, that Alastor didn’t take this seriously, and that Carrow was only bullshitting.

The smile that Alastor gave Carrow had threatening undertones, as he concentrated his thoughts on the off chance she could read his mind and know what he was thinking, I know where you fucking live. I’m going to fucking hunt you down and beat the crap out of you with my bare hands.

Instead, with a calm, cool voice, he said, "You must be really fucking desperate. Enough of your bullshit." Before she could say anything else, he sealed her mouth shut again with a wave of his wand. "Maybe you won’t give us the information now, but it’s only a matter of time before we catch up with you motherfuckers.” He picked up his parchments, but before leaving, he told her, "Enjoy your goddamn joke, now. You won’t be laughing later."