Neville Longbottom (biggood) wrote in requirementic, @ 2019-12-03 21:28:00 |
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Entry tags: | !event, !log, 1997 december, c: geoffrey hooper, c: ginny weasley, c: neville longbottom, c: seamus finnigan, group: dumledores army, group: hogwarts staff |
3 December 1997
Who: Neville Longbottom, The Carrows, Seamus Finnigan, Ginny Weasley, and Geoffrey Hooper
When: 3 Dec 1997 | DA Interrogations
Where: Alecto’s Office
What: Neville Confeses!
Warning: Torture scene.
3 December 1997 | DA Inquiries “Doesn’t look like they’re using veritaserum,” Seamus mumbled as Geoffrey stepped into the office to consult with the Carrows on who to bring in next once Lavender exited. “Hope not,” Ginny pointed out. “Slughorn didn’t have the antidote in stock, so we’re fucked if they are.” Neville was seated quietly staring at a spot across the hall where the stone wall met the corridor floor. He’d considered what he’d say if they were using veritaserum, what would be at jeapordy if they were. Parvati, Lavender, and Susan didn’t seem to give any signs that they were - but he wouldn’t put it passed the Carrows to save that sort of thing for the likes of him and Ginny. The potion, after all, was hard to come by and likely too pricey to use on a list of students they clearly wanted to scare into submission. Though, if they weren’t using it this time, surely they use it the next…. “Longbottom,” Hooper called out and the other Gryffindors glanced up at the boy. “You’re up.” Neville stood up and then quickly knelt down to one knee to tie his shoe. His back to the Gryffindor traitor he said to his friends, “If I’m not walking out of here on my own - don’t let them leave me in the infirmary for long.” “What?” Seamus’ face contorted and he leaned forward. “Don’t do anything stupid,” Ginny mumbled to the pair of them as she glanced to Geoffrey who wasn’t aware they were still talking. “Just promise,” Neville said as he stood up and made his way through Alecto Carrow’s office door. “Welcome back, Longbottom,” Amycus’ attempt to hide his smirk was a poor one. “Mr. Longbottom, have a seat,” Alecto motioned to the chair in front of her desk, the sound of a quick-quotes quill somewhere in the room making notes as he sat. “Do you know why you’re here?” Amycus baited. “The letter said you had questions about Dumbledore’s Army?” Neville answered calmly. “Very good,” Alecto nodded. “What do you know of it?” “What do you mean?” “It’s a general question,” Alecto said pointedly. “What’s your general knowledge of Dumbledore’s Army?” “Erm… it was started by Dumbledore and Harry Potter back in 5th year,” Neville said not taking his eyes off of Alecto, aware of the lie that Dumbledore had concocted to protect them the two years previous. “And were you ever a part of it?” Amycus seemed surprised that he’d willingly given up the information without any attempt at lying. “Still am,” Neville nodded, his gaze turned sharp toward the male version of the Carrow name. “Wha-,” Alecto gawked slightly. “Are you confessing?” “Seems like,” Neville nodded as though the question weren’t as accusatory as it was. “Who else is working with you?” “What do you mean?” “Who else is helping you?” Alecto’s tone grew sharp as she leaned forward. “It’s those two still out there isn’t it?” “No,” Neville answered quick enough to stop the accusation, but not eager enough to seem suspicious. “I acted alone. I’m not stupid enough to get other people involved.” “I don’t believe you,” Amycus leaned back in his chair. “You’re not bright enough to pull off that vandalism last week.” “It’s just a few charms and runes spells,” Neville shrugged. “Got ‘em out of fourth-year textbooks, not that difficult really.” Alecto’s teeth were audibly grinding as Amycus narrowed his eyes at him. “You know theres ways to tell if you’re lying?” Amycus practically hissed. “But I’m not,” Neville said. “Why confess?” “Because, you’re going to keep accusing people to suite whatever egotistical bias you have,” Neville’s upper lip was curled with distinct hate as he leaned forward. “And I’m not going to let you use Dumbledore’s Army as a scapegoat for punishment when it was just me getting back at you for your trivial, manipulative, and assinine approach at controlling people with fear. You don’t scare me, death eaters, or not, you’re weak-minded and scared little puppets in whatever Volde--AARHH!” A sharp pain launched from the air from Amycus’ wand and smacked Neville square in the chest, sending the seventh-year backward in his chair. Every pore felt like it was on fire, though from experience, this curse was different than the cruciatus. It burned only his skin and didn’t penetrate into his organs - but definitely focused on constricting his throat. Distracting and painful enough that he certainly stopped speaking. It hit him a few more times and Neville swore he heard his skin sizzle - possibly even smelled it. His breath caught in his throat as the muscles around his windpipe burned and tightened, making it almost impossible for him to make any noise let alone scream. When the curse was released the boy took in a deep gasp of air as though whatever dam had blocked the flow was now released. “We don’t say his name,” Alecto said as if correcting a small child. “So I certainly don’t see why you think you can.” The two siblings were now standing over him, wands aimed at his fetal positioned body. “Now,” Amycus continued. “You’re going to tell us who helped you or-- we’ll do this all night until you do.” “There’s nothing to tell,” Neville groaned. “What part of I acting alone is difficult for you?” Another lightning jolt to his skin surged through him. “Who else, boy?” Neville coughed and took in a desperate gasp of air, but didn’t answer. “It certainly isn’t as fun without the screaming,” Alecto mused to her brother. “I don’t know,” Amycus mused as he hit Neville with another of the same unnamed curse. The boy’s body curved from a fetal position to a back arch as he gasped for air in discomfort. Part of his frame ridged and clearly in pain, “I sort of like it.” “How long do you suppose you could hold it on him until he goes unconscious?” Alecto asked when the spell was released and Neville took in another breath. “Hmm,” Amycus considered the test and knelt down to grab the boy by the scruff of his school robes. “How long do you think you can go pretending you’re the mastermind of this little group?” “There’s no fucking group,” Neville said through labored breathing, his tone clearly agitated by the need to repeat himself. Amycus immediately grabbed the Gryffindor’s jaw, his fingers large and powerful as he examined the boy’s expression of hate. Their eye contact screaming with disdain for one another, in someways Neville was taunting him with his defiance and he knew that the professor could sense it. The man’s wand came up and began to emit what could only be described as a blow torch flame. Neville attempted to pull away, but Alecto seemed to hit him with something that locked his limbs in place from behind. “I’ll have you know, Longbottom,” Amycus said cooly as he watched the flame get closer to the boy’s face. “Cursing at your elders is… not the wisest form of communication. Especially when this elder doesn’t particularly like you to begin with.” The heat from the torch spell being directed close to Neville’s right eye, only to slowly moved down to the boy’s cheek. Neville’s teeth clenched from whatever body binding curse he was under he yelled through his jaw as the flame made contact with his flesh and dragged a bit. He exhaled heavily as saliva spilled through his teeth and he strained agains the body bind and the torch. “Now,” Amycus said pulling his wand away from the seventh year and looking at the bubbling burn he’d so artistically given the boy. “Who else is working with you?” In that same instant, the body binding curse let go and Alecto hit him with the same burning curse he hadn’t been able to identify from before. His body going rigid as his throat tightened to mute his screams and his spine curved to make sense of the all body electrical annihilation he felt through his epidermis and burning into his muscles. Released he gasped for air and coughed, his body too weak to attempt to scurry for the door. “Answer the question,” Amycus used a condescending sing-song-tone as he tilted his head and prepped his wand to emit an ice-cold flame in the shape of a very sharp knife. “Who else is helping you with Dumbledore’s Army?” Neville did not respond as he was having trouble catching his breath and he’d resolved some moments ago that no matter what he said they were going to continue to torture him until he passed out or at least until they got bored. Perhaps if he focused on his breathing the next round of pain they inflicted wouldn’t be so bad. Seamus, Ginny, and Geoffrey were sitting out in the corridor unaware of what was going on inside the office for close to two hours. The grumble of Geoffrey’s stomach was making the younger Gryffindor irritable enough to begin asking students he only sort of knew who passed to bring him a sandwich or at least a roll. To say that Seamus’ nerves were getting the better of him the more time passed with Neville still inside and alone with the Carrows was an understatement. The other boy’s words playing over and over in his head and making up the most outlandish possibilities of what could be going on inside. While it was easy to joke that the Carrows might have had a murderous streak within them, he didn’t think they’d be stupid enough to kill a student during a documented interrogation. Surely, they’d show some self-constraint. Finally, the door opened and Amycus Carrow stepped out, he was visibly wiping his wand and hands with a handkerchief when he turned to the 6th year. “Oh, we forgot you were out here,” he said calmly as he glanced to the remaining Gryffindors and turned back to his squad lackey. “You may go. You two--” he snapped his fingers to Seamus and Ginny. “You can help your friend to the infirmary.” Seamus’s eyes grew wide finally putting together that Amycus was wiping the blood from his hands. Ginny was already at her feet and rushing into the office. “What did you do!?” she yelled out. Seamus followed behind to see the mound of Neville Longbottom in the middle of the floor. Ginny kneeling beside him attempting to get him to respond to her voice. He’d gotten to his friends just in time to catch the girl reaching for her wand. “Don’t,” Seamus grabbed her wrist to keep her subdued. Ginny was shaking, not with fear but firey Weasley rage and he could feel it as he firmly pinned her hand to the floor as Alecto stepped around them. “I’m going to kill them,” she whispered through gritted teeth. “Mmm…” Alecto tilted her head in the most condescending way possible - having missed the death threat. “You’ll have to thank Mr. Longbottom if he ever comes to…he saved the pair of you from having to be interrogated yourselves. The case of Dumbledore’s Army has been closed - be sure to learn from his mistakes.” Ginny attempted to bolt upright and Seamus grabbed her other arm to keep her on the floor with him and Neville. “Don’t!” he urged with hushed forced. The woman didn’t bother to pay their response much mind and turned on her heel to join her brother in the hall. “Shall we eat in the Great Hall or make a dinner trip in celebration?” “Gin,” Seamus’s hands on the girl’s shoulders. “We have to help Neville.” Shaking the ginger girl stared toward the doorway long after the Carrows and Geoffrey’s footsteps disappeared in their echo. “Ginny,” Seamus tried again. Shaking her slightly. When the girl looked to him she had a crazed glint in her eye. Without having to repeat himself Ginny nodded as she tried to calm herself turning her attention to their bloodied friend. They rolled him over on his back and his face was so bloody from gashes that it was hard to see where his features were anymore. “Fuck,” Seamus whispered. “Fuck, Neville… I’m-.” “Don’t talk in here. Help me,” Ginny interrupted as she immediately went to magically seal up what she could of the wounds that were still bleeding. The distinct sound of a quick-quotes quill scratching at parchment somewhere in the room. |