Betrayal of the Black

sixty

THE SCREAM REVERBERATED THROUGHOUT the entirety of the dungeons.

Not a flicker of emotion passed over Pansy's face. She kept her shoulders back, careful not to hunch. Her hand holding her wand did not shake. They could not know how much this was effecting her.

The Gryffindor child on the floor below her writhed, begging between his screams. The pain the Crutiatus Curse caused was like no other. She knew that well enough herself now.

"Release him," said Amycus Carrow.

She did, a tremendous amount of relief flooding her body.

Amycus bent down to look at the third-year, not even blinking at the snot that ran from his nose or the tears that stained his cheeks. "No more talk of Harry Potter. Understand?"

The boy nodded his head fervently. Amycus picked the boy up by the scruff of his neck, shoving him towards the door of the room the moment he was up on his two feet. The boy ran from the room on shaky legs, tears still running down his face.

Hands clasped in front of her, she stared demurely at the stone-bricked wall before her. She had done this enough time in the past that she could now tell you how many bricked ladened the wall.

"You're free to go, Miss Parkinson." Amycus turned from her, walking towards the back of the room. She was dismissed. "I'll call for you if I need you."

She tipped her chin down in a formal nod, even though he was no longer looking at her. In a couple minutes, she wouldn't recall what he response had been, only that it had been satisfactory enough to appease Amycus and that she had used the word sir. Like he was her professor or something.

The instant the door shut behind her, she was stumbling her way back to the Slytherin common room on her shaky legs. Every inch of her body trembled, and she couldn't control them when she was like this. She would have to reign them in by the time she reached the common room, though. She had to.

She had been about halfway to her destination when Blaise finally appeared. As soon as he saw her, he grabbed her by the elbow and dragged her into a hidden alcove behind a tapestry. They both knew what would happen if they were caught wandering around Hogwarts. Blaise cast the Muffliato Charm.

She collapsed against him, loud sobs escaping her now that she knew no one would find them. Blaise held her, one hand smoothing down her hair in a repeated movement as he tried to calm her down.

All the other times, that had been enough. But this time around, she only continued to cry, her tears staining his clothes while she blubbered against him.

"Celestia is going to hate me," she eventually choked out between her sobs.

It was not the first time she had thought the words, but it was the first time she had given voice to them. And it was simply saying them aloud that sent her into more hysterics.

She hated crying. Before this year, she had scarcely cried. She certainly had when Celestia had been kidnapped, and a few times before that. But never like this.

Blaise pulled back from her, now holding her at arms-lengths so they could look each other fully in the face. His hands rubbed up and down the tops of her arms, consoling her the way a father might their child.

Before this year, Blaise had never been too affectionate. It wasn't like he was adverse to touch, it was just that he scarcely initiated it. But they clung to each other now, because without Draco, or Celestia, or Theo here, they felt terrifyingly alone.

"She's not going to hate you," Blaise assured her. "She'll understand."

"Do you remember what she was like when Theo first brought her home? She was a wreck. The Cruciatus Curse did that to her. And—and now I'm using it against these innocent kids." She began to shake all over again. "She won't forgive me for that. She won't."