A special thanks to all the reviewers who contributed their thoughts to the story…it's very much appreciated.
This is where the NC-17 rating kicks in…a fair warning, this chapter will get really graphic in the beginning, and not in a good way…seriously, NOT for anyone with a queasy stomach…anyways, here we go…
Chapter VIII: A Tortured Soul
His bloodshot eyes looked up defiantly in Bellatrix's cold, empty and determined black coals. The wire was cutting in his wrists and he could feel the blood dripping down in his palms.
"Crucio!"
The indescribable pain hit him for the thousandth time; white-hot knives were tearing at his insides, making him scream and writhe in agony.
"Tell me!" screamed Lestrange, entranced in her twisted pleasure of administering torture, combined with her quest to find the sensitive piece of information.
"Sectumsempra!"
A precise, deep incision opened against the man's stomach. Horror-struck, he looked down, as blood spilt freely.
"Twisted bitch," the suffering man rasped out; his voice was a whisper - a cold, hateful, heartless whisper, wrung from the darkest recesses of his dying soul.
Another powerful curse struck the man across the face - his head snapped to the side, as his cheek was cut open, and an ominous crack issued from his neck
An unexpected chill swept over the small clearing, taking that whisper with it. Twitching, as the last glimmers of life disappeared, the heavy figure fell face down against the dirt, in its own pool of red blood.
As determined as she was, Bellatrix Lestrange was still human - she felt the man's dying words, chilling her to the bone. Yet, no remorse arose within her darkened being; petty feelings as those were foreign, needless - for the weak, as Vodlemort had once said. She needed to be strong.
Bella replaced her wand in its holster. It must have been a signal; nearly instantaneously, twenty other wands were unsheathed, and directed at the body. The brief light of spell fire illuminated the grisly sight of charred pile of bones and blood that was left behind.
"A message to the Ministry," said Bellatrix icily. "We do not offer mercy."
Twenty-one silent disapprations returned the field to its near original undisturbed state- with the exception of the brutally murdered man, whose remains lay amidst the grass.
Two unseeing sockets stared towards the dark trees, outlined by the full moon; a wolf howled echoed in the distance. Voldemort's legacy, ever so slowly, was returning.
**
"Oh, my!" Ginny exclaimed loudly, gripping the pages of the Prophet tightly.
"What?" Draco Malfoy inquired in slight alarm.
"Vasilii Gregorovitch - killed!" she said in a high-pitched voice.
"Who is he?" Draco asked.
"He is a renowned wand maker. Viktor Krum told me about him."
"Well, it is unfortunate," he replied. "Is it clear who perpetrated the murder?"
"Not from this article," Ginny said thoughtfully. "But it says he was tortured heavily," she shuddered at the words.
"It isn't an isolated incident," said Malfoy forcefully. "There is something more sinister in the works. It may be connected with Olliviander's murder a few days ago."
"The same people could have done it," Ginny offered.
"I'll try to find out," Draco said. "I'll return in a few hours, and in the meanwhile, do not leave the manor. You brought Potter back, and they might come looking."
Ginny assented to stay until Malfoy returned. She was quite aware of the risk her actions had produced, and keeping low in the grass was currently a primary concern of hers. She watched her recent companion walking out in the morning sun.
Shortly after the events of that faithful night, Ginny had spent time in the Burrow, until a few weeks ago, when Draco Malfoy paid her a discreet visit. He told her of the rumors that Harry was alive, and that she had had a hand into it - the separation between her and Harry had been a widely publicized affair previously.
Unwilling, Ginny had admitted to her direct involvement, and for the purpose of protection, Draco Malfoy had taken her to his family's ancestral home.
Voicing her concerns that the mysterious attackers may seek her at the Malfoy manor, Draco had replied that both his parents were killed in the Final Battle - the family's involvement had ended with their deaths.
Currently, Ginny sat, deep in thought, on the comfortable sofa in the lavishly decorated living room. The newspaper was still clutched in her hand; yet, it offered no more answers to the numerous questions swimming in her head.
She needed to talk with Harry. Soon.
But breaking her promise could mean the compromise of her life, so she decided it would be wiser to remain hidden for now. If she received a chance to cross paths with Harry Potter, then she would seize it.
**
Frustrated, Ron looked over the angry tirade that was the letter from the Minister of Magic. The remains of Vasilii Gregorovitch were recovered, and were currently pending closer investigation for the exact means of death.
The reason behind the Minister's anger was the wand maker's secret visit to Britain - Ministry wand craftsmen were chartered with the responsibility of collaborating with Gregorovitch in an exchange of knowledge and skill; the Auror department had been charged with the man's security.
Yet, he had disappeared a fortnight ago, without a trace, and from the conflicting witness reports, he had been kidnapped.
Surrounded by idiots and incompetence…Ron read on, his blood boiling with each word. Perhaps, he was at fault - assigning a team that consisted of a few experienced and rather more newly minted Aurors to guard Gregorovitch may not have been the wisest choice.
Yet, he could do nothing more, except launch the investigation and capture the elusive murderer. He decided to lead it himself, to avoid all possibilities of failure. The more he thought, Ron was increasingly inclined to enlist Harry and Hermione's support in the hunt for the murderer - their respective experience and knowledge would render them indispensable to the effort.
Ron spent the rest of the day perusing different methods of organizing his resources, and when the clock on the wall opposite struck five o'clock, he collected his belongings, and walked out of the office.
**
Luna was quite preoccupied that evening. James was crying, because Madelyn had broken his favourite toy broomstick, a model of a Firebolt Serie A that was going to be unveiled in its full size soon, and Madelyn was busy making excuses and arguing with her mother. Incidentally, Luna also needed to supervise the knives chopping up a salad in the kitchen.
No one heard Ron walk in, as he was curious what the whole commotion was about.
"Hello?" he called over the ruckus.
The noise quickly died down, as three pairs of eyes were directed at the newly arrived redhead.
"Welcome home, dear," Luna said sweetly and made to lay a kiss upon her husband. "How was work?
"Ah, terrible," said Ron. "I have something to tell you later," he added quietly.
"Alright then," replied Luna serenely. "First dinner, then we tuck the kids in bed, and after that we talk."
"Agreed."
Ron proceeded to embrace his children and enquire about their activities of the day. James piped up immediately.
"Maddie broke my broom!"
"Really now?" Ron asked, directing his eyes to his daughter.
"It was an accident," she said in a small voice.
"I believe you," her father said consolingly. Madelyn returned a smile. "Now, James, give me the broken toy."
James handed it to him.
"Reparo!" and the broom's pieces sprang back together - the toy was as good as new.
"Thanks, daddy!" said James jovially, and ran to his room, closely followed by his sister.
"Dinnertime!" Luna bellowed over the noise to let her family know it was time to sit around the table.
After a hearty meal, accompanied by Ron and Luna's very creative efforts to pursue their children to finish their vegetables, they at last managed to tuck their children to sleep.
Walking back in the kitchen, Ron sat down heavily on a chair, and Luna took the chair beside his.
"Is everything alright, honey?" she asked in concern.
"Of course not," came the rather snappish reply. "There is something really terrible happening."
Luna was aghast. "What?" she asked quietly.
"D'you remember Olliviander's death?"
"Yes…you told me about it," said Luna cautiously.
"Well…another respected wand maker is gone. Murdered, and by the signs, brutally," said Ron bitterly.
"Who is it?" Luna's fearful voice came.
"Vasiliy Gregorovitch - he was a Bulgarian maker. A secret visit, he was kidnapped and killed; and it's my fault, because I shouldn't have sent rookies to protect him…"
"It was planned, most likely," Luna offered. "Even with experienced Aurors, the kidnappers would have succeeded."
"I want to think that too," Ron said in defeat. "But I won't rest until the murderer is brought
to justice…I cannot imagine who would commit such a crime…"
"We ought to tell Harry," Luna said urgently. "I have the feeling that he may be involved in the entire matter."
"Harry?" Ron said. "No way, he would never kill Gregorovitch. Why would you even say that?"
"No," Luna answered. "I meant that Harry might be the reason he was killed - something he knew."
"That's it then, isn't it," Ron said gravely, his expression becoming gloomier. "I think it may be possible. This and Olliviander's murder have to be connected, because it was not a random act, of which I am sure."
"Talk to Harry tomorrow, then," Luna advised him. "And I'll be off to bed…I am really tired for some unknown reason…"
Ron kissed his wife, wished her a good night, and informed her that he would retire for the night a bit later. Luna agreed, and departed in the direction of their bedroom.
He was still feeling very restless. The entire concept disturbed him greatly; the killers were quite possibly demented and dangerous, judging by the remains he saw earlier today. Stretching out onto the sofa, Ron
**
Harry woke up the following morning, feeling much more refreshed than usual. He had spent a sizable amount of time the previous day studying charms and curses, in an effort for the Auror training he would be starting soon.
Today, however, he had been planning on visiting the Ministry to enquire on some matters around the Auror program that he wanted to be more informed about.
Only, those plans would never be realized, as the sudden appearance of an owl outside the window startled him. Harry opened the pane, and the owl shot in, circled around the room, and dropped a letter before flying out in the morning sky again.
Harry picked up the letter from the ground and closed the window. The sudden commotion had caused Hermione to stir, and ever so slowly, she opened her eyes as well.
"Harry?" she mumbled sleepily.
"Morning, love," Harry replied absently, as his eyes scanned Ron's untidy scrawl.
Hermione finally managed to become fully conscious.
"Who wrote to you?" she asked curiously.
"Ron," Harry answered. "He wants to see us urgently…'
"Why? Is anything the matter?"
"Apparently, there is, but he writes that he'll tell us when we see him privately."
"Must be serious," Hermione replied quietly.
Anxious, Harry and Hermione quickly dressed, and after drinking a hasty cup of coffee, they departed to see Ron.
The journey was a tense one. Ever vigilant for suspicious behaviour around them, Harry and Hermione walked rather fast, until they arrived safely at the atrium of the Ministry.
The couple managed to find Ron's office eventually, and knocking to ask permission to enter, they were at once granted one.
"Harry, Hermione," said Ron immediately when he saw them. "Glad you could make it on such short notice."
"No problem, mate," Harry smiled.
"Did you read the Daily Prophet yesterday?" Ron asked, quite seriously.
"No, we did not," replied Hermione. "We were too preoccupied yesterday. I am finally feeling better."
"Good to hear, Hermione," Ron said. "And you, Harry?"
"Me? I was busy practicing spells nearly the entire day."
"Hmm, I see," Ron continued thoughtfully. "Well, then there is some rather unnerving news I have to tell you about."
Harry and Hermione remained quiet in expectation. Ron sighed deeply, before continuing. He did not appreciate telling the story again.
"There was a very violent murder the other night. The wand maker, Gregorovitch, was killed."
"Isn't he the one, who made Krum's wand?" Harry asked curiously.
"The same one," Ron affirmed.
"How did he die?" Hermione asked in a slightly quavering voice.
"Kidnapped. Then he was tortured, injured on purpose. From what the enquiry on the remains has revealed, he received a fatal injury in the region of the abdomen, and after he died, there was further damage administered on the body, which must have reduced it to the condition we found it in."
"And how did you find it?" Hermione ventured further, her ashen face betraying the disgust she felt from hearing the description. Harry, on the other hand, had lost his ability to speak, and was shocked by Ron's chilling account of the event.
"Nothing more than a pile of burnt flesh and charred bones. And blood, everywhere," Ron shuddered.
The silence that followed his statement was deafening.
"Who would commit such a crime?" Harry whispered.
"It is what I want to know," Ron answered darkly. "And is why I called you two in. Your support, Harry, and Hermione, will be invaluable."
"What is it you want us to do?" Harry asked.
"So you will agree to join the investigation?"
"Well, of course," Harry said loudly. "Hermione?"
"Was there ever any doubt?" she said.
"Count us in," Harry said.
"Excellent. There is no time to waste, however. I want you to begin trying to uncover any relevance between all the attacks that have happened so far; including the Muggle one some time ago, Olliviander's murder, the attack on Hermione, and now this latest one," Ron instructed.
"Will do, Ron," replied Harry heavily. "And you, keep safe in the meanwhile."
"I have to…can't bear the thought of anything happening to my family."
"Come bunk with us at Grimmauld for some time. There is a still active Fidelius Charm," Hermione proffered an offer to her best friend.
"Maybe," Ron said. "I think we are safe now, but there may come a time when I might take you up on that offer."
"Our door is always open," Harry told him. "See you later, Ron, and keep us current on the investigation."
"Don't worry, I will. Goodbye for now."
Parting ways, Harry and Hermione left Ron to ponder the situation behind his desk, and they made their way back to Grimmauld Place.
One sinister circle of criminals was becoming apparent. Harry held no doubt that the attacks were related. Bellatrix Lestrange was his prime suspect. The murders had closely resembled Voldemort's style, but without a proof, his suspicions remained only that - suspicions.
**
Ginny walked around restlessly in the Malfoy Manor. Draco had been gone for quite a few hours, and she was beginning to worry. Had he been captured; or even worse, killed? Her incessant thoughts of the subject caused her to become increasingly alarmed, to the point where she was considering conducting a search for him.
Suddenly the front door opened. Startled, Ginny pressed herself tightly against the wall, and peeked around the edge of the wall. There, in the front entrance, was standing Draco Malfoy. He was taking off his jacket, when unexpectedly, Ginny flung herself in his arms.
"What the - " he started, confused.
"Oh, I'm so glad you're back. Where have you been?" Ginny spoke out rashly.
Draco gently disengaged himself from the fiery redheaded girl.
"If I told you, you would not believe me," he said solemnly.
"Of course I would," Ginny protested soundly.
"Well then…I know who is behind the attacks."
"How?! Who is it?" Ginny asked, perplexed.
"Lestrange. She and her cronies," he replied angrily. "I don't know what they want, but I managed to see her today in Knockturn Alley. So I followed her, and overheard her talking about killing Grigorovitch. I escaped before she knew I was following her."
Ginny was speechless.
"What does that mean, then?" was all she could say.
"It means that we are in a hell of a lot of trouble. We have to be careful, who we see, what we say, because I wouldn't be surprised if she has agents and spies roaming around for you - somehow she knows you brought Potter back."
Ginny swallowed, and her fearful eyes met Draco's hard and determined ones. Unable to stand any longer, she closed the distance between them, and collapsed in his arms, sobbing.
At a loss of words to console her, the young Malfoy held her tightly, wondering what tomorrow may bring. He knew Lestrange was gaining power and a more sizable following - question was, would they be able to survive it?
A/N There is chapter eight…a murder, and yet more intrigue to be solved…hope you liked it, and a review, good or bad, is always welcome
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