The Chosen One [#Wattys2016]

TRUST NO ONE

A tall, dark-haired man stood in front of Neville as the latter attempted to stop his doubling vision. Fear chilled Neville's bones as his brain registered the voice that he had heard in his dream.

Neville caught a whiff of flowers and wet grass before his attention got directed by the voice.

Rudolphus Lestrange was an unprincipled and egotistical man who encouraged fear in others and lived off the adrenaline that came from intimidating them. He leered at the unlikely pair in front of him, his face lighting up with cruel satisfaction when he saw Neville's discomfort and Avaline's blank gaze.

Almost lazily, he waved his wand and Neville saw Avaline's eyes focus on him. She looked horrified and ashamed as she took in the scene in front of her.

"Oh, Neville, oh no," she mumbled incoherently.

"Your little friend is too inquisitive for her own good, Longbottom foal," said Rudolphus Lestrange.

Perplexed and afraid, Neville stared first at Lestrange and then at Avaline, who stared at her shoes.

"In her quest for answers, your friend stumbled on a bit too many things that she wasn't supposed to know. But I think she did well on my orders. She brought you to me, after all."

Neville struggled to comprehend what Lestrange was saying. From what he had heard, it seemed as though Avaline had knowingly brought Neville to his executioners. As he looked around, something suddenly struck him.

Was it his imagination or had the plain suddenly become much too crowded? He counted almost thirty newcomers.

"Between you and me," Rudolphus Lestrange said in Neville's ear, his unshaven beard tickling him, "these people I'm working with, they're not user-friendly – I had to do a lot of hard work. But all that doesn't matter now that I've got you. You look just like your mother. I liked her, she was cute." He straightened up and said, "I guess she would be glad to meet you soon."

He waved his hand as six tied and unconscious people were levitated towards them. Neville heard Avaline gasp as a thin, middle-aged man with sandy hair was led forward by a tall, dark-haired man who bore a distinct resemblance to Rudolphus Lestrange. He wore an unpleasant sneer on his face and seemed almost pleased with holding a dagger to the sandy-haired man's neck.

"I don't think I've introduced my brother to you," he said, "But I think your dreams should've told you that."

Neville looked at Avaline with distinct betrayal in his eyes. He couldn't believe she would do such a thing. His grandmother's words came to him – Trust no one.

"And that is Leonard Prinsloo," he said, pointing to the sandy-haired man.

"Jennifer's father!" Avaline whispered in shock.

Rudolphus beamed at her like a kid to father Christmas. It was unnerving how much the men around them enjoyed the show.

"It is important to prune our trees when need be. Rabastan's wife made the same mistake as your traitor father's," he said, pointing to Avaline, "He thought he could get away with marrying your mudblood mother, who was not even a witch. And then they had you, with filth in your blood. A man with blood as pure as ours in his veins and talent that Salazar would be proud of, Severus should have known that we would find you. Hiding isn't as foolproof as you think it is." He winked at Neville and turned to his prisoners.

His blood boiled as Rudolphus took a dig at his parents. Without a sense as to what he was doing, Neville drew his wand and pointing it at Lestrange's back, he spoke the first spell that came to him –

"Wingardium Leviosa"

A rock the size of an egg rose in the air and dropped back to the ground as Neville's wand was kicked from his hand. It fell down with a clatter and rolled away from him. A grey-haired man picked it up and broke it clearly in two. As he did so, a shower of sparks threw him off his feet and he fell a few feet away, clearly unconscious.

The death eaters laughed. It did not worry them that one of their comrades had been hurt. They seemed to enjoy it with a ferocity and ruthlessness that sickened him.

"It's not only students like you that delve into the secrets of our magic," said Rabastan Lestrange, "We also find ways to improve ourselves. And we found something calculated to bring glory to Wizards everywhere – a way to bring the Dark Lord back. seven sacrifices is all we need. Seven possesses magic beyond all other numbers. I have six sacrifices here, you can be the seventh, Longbottom. It would be the greatest achievement of your life. Or you could join us, why stay among fools who do not even value you. We value bravery beyond measure, and you're braver than you know. I can see it running in your veins."

"I'll join you when hell freezes," Neville said indignantly. Rabastan's smirk grew, but he pretended not to hear as he continued.

"Our Lord has many powers. He can possess the bodies of others, but their bodies cannot undertake the power of his magic, so they wither away.

"The blood of seven sacrifices, along with the soul of a willing, faithful servant – that means, me – will allow the Dark Lord's spirit to unite with me, making him stronger than ever. Your blood – the blood of a mortal enemy – will grant him immunity against curses. My soul will provide him with something to latch onto on this side of the veil, figuratively speaking."

"My dear brother," interrupted Rudolphus, "We all know your love of theatrics, but this is no time for monologuing. The Dark Lord has been gone too long. It's time to bring him back. Let us begin."

Rudolphus handed his brother a silver dagger with a serpentine handle in his hand. Rabastan stood next to a cauldron and nodded.

The death eaters held their own and their neighbours' wands as they stood in a perfect circle around them. Their voices filled the night as they chanted. One by one, Rabastan thrust his dagger into the necks of five unnamed prisoners, allowing their blood to flow into the cauldron. He allowed himself a smile as he opened Leonard Prinsloo's neck in a bright red smile. Neville stood rooted to the spot as Rudolphus Lestrange approached him, their final sacrifice. As fast as lightening, Avaline blocked him, standing in front of Neville, and said –

"We'll stop you."

Rudolphus laughed. The chanting continued. The surface of the liquid in the cauldron broke and hissed as green mist rose from the cauldron in a misshapen humanoid form. Unknown to him, the green mist had surrounded Rabastan, who had fallen and was now writhing on the ground. The mist entered his nostrils, ears and every other crevice in his body as he attempted to tell his brother to hurry.

The liquid overflowed as he said –

"You, my dear? Tell me, how do two underage wizards, one of them without a wand, intend to stop us?"

Sudden cracks pierced the chanting as a voice that Neville had heard during the Christmas holidays said and his heart lifted –

"You're mistaken if you think they'd be all alone."

The first spells flew and all hell broke loose.

Terrified and relieved in equal measure as the wizards duelled, their surprise entry giving them an advantage, Neville saw James Potter face Rudolphus Lestrange, whose spells, however dark, were no match for Potter's agility and reflexes. The wand was like an extension of his arm.

The death eaters were completely distracted by the sudden appearance of wizards and witches. Avaline sent a spell towards the nearest death eater –

"Flipendo!"

There was a loud bang as Avaline turned towards Neville and grabbed his arm.

"How did you do that?" he asked.

"I've been practising," she said.

They did not wait to see if the spell had found its mark. They darted through the bodies and flashes of light, once even flinging themselves flat on the ground as a red spell flew past them, and ran as though their lives depended on it, which it did.

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It isn't Snape... it's Lestrange!!!!! Le strange, isn't it?

Sorry about the bad puns :p