The forest was silent, void of life, and the air that hung heavy on the wind was stale. What light that passed down through the branches, was dirty and faded. The roots of the ancient trees had grown, while the dirt around them had been washed away from the flooded river until the floor was a mass of tangled roots and vines. What life had once existed in this forest, had been dead for many years.
As Bellatrix walked through the forest, her footsteps loud in her ears, she felt unnatural, as though she didn't belong here. Life wasn't meant to exist in this forest; she was an intruder upon the peace an quiet of this ancient place. From the moans and groans of the forest, she knew she was unwelcome.
Fear had driven her in here, and it would be fear that would drive her out. She was being hunted by the Ministry, hunted for crimes she didn't commit, but for which she would take the punishment. Some told her she was crazy, but Bellatrix knew different.
"He's worth it," she told herself as she had done before, every time she began to doubt herself. "This is the only chance I have to prove myself. I'll be awarded for it, the Dark Lord will make sure of that. He's worth it."
A loud crack echoed through the forest like a gun shot, rooting her feet to their places. Bellatrix drew her wand from inside of her cloaks, and whispering a slight word of magick, pointed her wand and the light emminating from it in front of her. "It's nothing," she told herself, extinguishing the light, and putting her wand away. "Must've been a tree branch falling." Feeling reassured, Bellatrix moved on, though she kept a tight grip on her concealed wand.
She knew that sound; it was the sound of someone Apparating, and they couldn't have been too far away. "If they were comming in here, they had a right to hide themselves," she told herself . 'It'd be nice to talk to someone, though. Other than myself.'
"What are you doing here?" someone snarled from behind her. Bellatrix felt her heart skip a beat, before she sighed in relief
Releasing her grip on her wand, she could hardly keep herself from smiling, or from running out to meet him. "I could ask the same of you, Severus. What would someone like you be doing out here? Don't you have better things to do?"
"The Dark Lord believes I'm off doing those better things." He put a hand on her shoulder, and the other against her face. His hands were warm. "I'm supposed to be tracking some Mudblood, but..."
"You're not leaving again, are you?" Bellatrix turned around to face him, though she kept his hand pressed against his face by putting hers against his. "You've been away for months, without any word. And now this? I can't keep on running forever, you know that Severus."
"Then why don't you just let me take the blame?' His voice was harsher than it had been before, and she flinched slightly as his voice rose. "I'm the one who tortured them, I'm the one who had their lives within my grasp, and let them live! You had nothing to do with this, Bella." He took her face in his other hands, and put her eyes to his, his voice quieting until it was almost a whisper. "You don't need to be involved."
"I already am, Severus." Bella pulled his hands from her face, and turned away, trying to hide the tears. "The Ministry believes it was me. Me, my husband, and that kid. We're on all the wanted posters, haven't you seen them? There's no turning back."
"Tell them the truth!"
"For what?" she screamed, turning to face him. "They'll still throw me into Azkaban for being a Death Eater! Either way, I'm going in there, you know that..."
"We're all going to go to Azkaban," he said quietly. "The Dark Lord has no power any more. Some of the Death Eaters think he's dead."
"What do you think?"
"I don't know what to think." There was a silence between the two, before Bellatrix looked up to face him.
"It's over, isn't it?"
Severus was quiet for several moments, before he spoke again. "It's over, Bellatrix. It's all over."

~La MaitressedeMort

Thank's, ChOco. I haven't edited it yet, and I was really tired, so it's not all that great, and I had to rush the ending since my mom really wanted to go to bed, and I didn't, but she doesn't understand the whole writting desire thing. Crazy. This next one, I think, is going to be a continuation of the last one, but I'm going to start where my mom made me rush it, so I can finish it the way I wanted to.

"What do you think?" she snarled at him, refusing to look him in the eyes
"I don't know what to think," he said quietly. There was a silence between the two, before Bellatrix looked up to face him.
"It's over, isn't it?"
Severus was silent for several moments, before he spoke again. "It's over, Bellatrix. The Ministry's searching for us. They've already found your husband, and the Crouch kid. Malfoy wormed his way into the Minister's good nature, that slime. I'm following the Dark Lord's last order." He paused, his hands clenching together in fists, and when he spoke again, his voice was strained. "He wants... He wanted me as a spy in that Mudblood lovers Order at Hogwarts. I'm to apply for the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts professor."
"You're going to go through with it, aren't you." Bellatrix's voice broke off. Severus nodded, and she burried her face in her hands. "Why, Severus? They can't control us. We'll, we'll run away! We can hide from them!"
"For how much longer?" His voice was hard, but as he took her in his arm, his touch was soft, his skin smooth against her face as he wiped the tears from her eyes. "We've been running for seventeen years. We've been hiding from the Ministry for so long, Bella. I just... I don't want to run any more. I'm sick of it."
"Would you rather run, or die in prison at the hand of the Dementors? Would you rather be free, or be a dog of the Ministry?" Bellatrix was crying harder with every word, pressing her face into his chest.
"I would rather die, than betray the wishes of my lord!" he shouted. The forest was silent save for his ragged breathing, and her light sobbing. Severus looked down at her, then sighing, pushed her closer to him. "Oh, Bella. I didn't mean it, really. It's just-"
"You're sick of it, I get it." Bella wiped her eyes dry, and looked up at him. She spoke in whispers that were choked as she fought back the tears. "We're all angry, and none of us want to give in to those filthy traitors of the Ministry. It's hopeless to go on like nothing has happened. I don't think he meant for this to happen."
"The Dark Lord didn't want any of this to happen. But it did." Severus took her face in his hands, pushing back the hair and the tears with his fingers. "We have to move on with our lives, finding any way we can to survive." He paused to swallow air, as though he could hardly breathe. "And that is why you have to turn yourself in. But not yet. I'm going to find alliance with Dumbledore, head of the Wizengamot. Hopefully I can persuade him to find you a lighter sentance, to avoid the kiss. I'll get you out of there, I promise." Bellatrix felt more tears come to her eyes, but he quickly wiped them away. "It might take me a while, but I'll get you out of there. I give you my word, I'll make the Unbreakable Vow, if you'd like me to."
"No, no... That's fine... I-I'll do it, Severus. For you..." She leaned forwards, and kissed him lightly, before running off into the forest.
Behind her, she heard him whisper lightly, "I do this, for you..."
Bellatrix felt another tear slide down her face, but she brushed it away with the back of her hand. In the back of her mind, she knew that the last time she would see him, if she ever saw him again, would be as they walked her into Azkaban, and he would stand there, his face cold, as a dog of the Ministry.
"Farewell Severus," she whispered as she ran. "Take care of yourself. The next time we meet, it'll be in the pressence of the Dark Lord. You may have lost hope, but I have not. I know he'll come back, and when he does, I'll be there by his side as his most loyal servant. Then, and only then, will I stop running. Then, and only then, will we be free."

End of Scroll One

~La MaitressedeMort

Scroll Two

Watching her run into the forest, Severus sighed as he turned his back on the spot. The forest felt dark, and empty all of a sudden, and resisting the urge to draw his wand, Severus walked slowly, flinching at every sound.
Before he had stepped foot in the forest, Severus ignored the warning myths, telling him of people gone missing; some said the tree's had attacked them, and the birds had devoured their corpses. He'd laughed at them, called them fools, but as he stood there, alone in the forest, he began to think that they were no more foolish than they were wise to stay away from this place.
The trees creeked lightly in the howling wind, though there was little more than a breeze inside the forest. Here and there were breaks in the treetops where the light shone through, but it was impossible to tell if it was sunshine, or moonlight.
Something howled, followed by the ruffling of branches, and the crack as he stepped on a branch. Stopping, he turned, listening carefully. After a minute of only the creeking trees echoing in his ears, he moved on, laughing at himself for being so worried.
"There's nothing to fear from a tree," he told himself, desperate to hear something besides the forest. "Tree's don't move." He felt as though he was speakuing to reassure himself, but the sound of silence was too unnerving to remain alone in it without feeling like he was going crazy. "The Dark Lord found solace in this forest when he was little more than a spirit. He was without magick, without a body, and he found nothing to fear in the darkness. I'm being a fool."
"If Lord Voldemort fears nothing more than the darkness, and the death he almost suffered at the childs hands, then how could he find solace in bodiless darkness?"
Severus swung around, his wand drawn and pointed at the source of the voice. "Show yourself?" he demanded. "Who dares to speak the Dark Lords name?"
"I will call him whatever I chose." The voice was light, and calm, but as he spoke the Dark Lord's name, a hint of disgust snuck into his otherwise peaceful voice. It was a familiar voice, and it sparked something in Severus' memory, but he couldn't remember where from. "You're not the only one to curse his name in the dark of night, Severus Snape."
The wizzard walked out of his shadows, his jade green robes shining in the beam of light he walked into. His half-moon glasses rested on the end of his long nose, and his wand, which he held lightly in his hand, was almost black against his pale hands.
"Ah, Professor Dumbledore." Severus lowered his wand, relaxing his grip, though remained tense as the Professor approached. "It's a pleasure."
"I do believe it's my pleasure, Severus." Dumbledore sighed, looking around the forest, a smile on his face. "I wasn't planning on seeing you until much later. I believe you're searching for employment, am I not mistaken?" Severus nodded, but kept his jaw locked. He still didn't trust Dumbledore, and he knew Dumbledore didn't trust him either. "Defense Against the Dark Arts. You were always a natural. Still." He spoke reminiscently, looking at Severus calmly, his blue eyes twinkling. Severus tightened his jaw, but Dumbledore didn't seem to notice. "I thought it was Potions you were after, since that is the post I am interested in filling. But, if you want Defense Against the Dark Arts, I'm afraid you're going to have to wait."
"I heard you'd become the Head Master," Severus said through clenched teeth. "The Ministry didn't sound too pleased."
"They wanted me for Minister of Magick, but I passed it down to Fudge."
"He's a fool. I suppose he's been hawking you since he became Minister?"
"Of course." Dumbledore didn't sound as though he agreed with the Ministry, but after a moment of silence, a smile returned to his face. "But that is not why I'm here, Severus. I think you know something about the Longbottom attack."
"What if I do? I don't have to tell you anything." Inside, Severus felt his heart skip a beat.
"No. But I think you might want to rethink that choice. That is, unless you don't want the Potions post. Or, I could hand you over to the Dementors."
"Are you threatening me?" Severus brought his wand back from his side, pointing it at the old man. "What do you know?"
"I know a lot of things, but it's what you know that interests me, and the Dementors."
Severus glared at him, but Dumbledore only smiled, waiting patiently. "From what I've heard from the Dark Lord," he began stiffly, "the Lestrange's were given the job. The Crouch kid, he tagged along. The rest, I'm 'faid you'll have to ask them."
"You could have learned all of that from the Daily Prophet. What I'm asking for is the truth."
Looking at Dumbledore's stern face, Severus thought back to what he had told Bellatrix, how she'd take the blame, and he'd get her out of Azkaban. The old wizzard nodded, urging him on. Severus sighed, lowering his head and his wand. Dumbledore already knew. Lying to him would break any chance he had of ever gaining his trust. "I..." He didn't want to betray Bellatrix, but... If he was arrested, they wouldn't be able to get anywhere. "They had nothing to do with it," he said finally. "I did it. And I wouldn've killed them, if I'd had the chance."
"Really, Severus?" He looked up to meet Dumbledore, and was shocked to find tears in the old man's usually cheerfull blue eyes. "Would you have killed them?
"Yes, Dumbledore. I would have. I would have done anything for my Dark Lord. Now..." He sighed, turning his back on the old wizzard. "I was a fool to trust him. He wasn't worth it. I should've left when I had the chance."
"You still have that chance." Severus turned, and saw that Dumbledore had wiped away the tears. "Come, take the Potions post. I'm sure Hogwarts will welcome you back."
"Thank you, Dumbledore." He turned his back again, and began to walk away. "I just have something I need to do."
"What ever it is," Dumbledore said, his voice seeming to follow Severus into the forest, "I hope I'll see you soon. Remember, Severus. I'll protect you for what you'ver done, but I cannot protect you from what you will do."
"Don't worry," Severus snarled. "We'll meet again. The day you I want your protection will be the day you'll save Bellatrix from the fate she's condemned to herself. I don't need the protection of anyone who associates with those Mudbloods. I only need two people in this world, and until they have been returned to me, I am yours. And I'm not going to let you stand in the way of me returning to them. I'll kill you if you touch them. That's all I can promise you, that you will die by my hand. Die for being a fool to trust the Dark Lord's most loyal servant. You will die, because I made a promise, Dumbledore. A promise to protect the ones I love, and I cannot do that while you continue to hunt us down.
"The Dark Lord has not forgotten us, nor has he forgotten the traitor that lives within your midst. That's the curse I will condemn on you, to die before you ever know the identity of the faithful traitor." Severus, sighed, looking down at the wand clenched in his hand. "Bella, forgive me. But, I do this for love of you."

End of Scroll Two

~La MaitressedeMort



Edit

Like I just mentioned on the new fan fiction suport thingy, here's my mention of it here, and let's see if I can do that link thing. So, not that I don't love you ChOco, you can reply here, but if anyone has anything editing wise, confusion wise, or basically question wise, aparently that should go there. That's what they told me to do. So, I'm reserving that place for editing stuff. Anything else, I like it here. It makes me feel as though I'm not the only one reading my stuff. So, none of this makes sense, but in short, I set up a feedback thing, and use it if you want to, cause some people like it that way. I could care less, but some people can't deal with it being so unorganized, which is how writting is for me. Everything else is organized, but this. Scary... I just spent three hours at the library, organizing books because they were bothering me, and I don't even work there. How sad... Link! It come to town, come to save the princess Zelda! But they took here away, now the children can't play, 'till Link, it come to town, Halleilujah! Now Link, draw up your heart, too shoot your sword of power... Now, Link it come to town! Link! Shadows In the Dark

(Oh, in advance, I want to apologize to the Dark Lord for using his name, but I cannot convey the meaning without using it. I'm sorry, my lord. Forgive me...)


Scroll Three

The words were barely off his toungue, before he felt the curse rebound upon him, striking him in the chest as though a blade had hit his heart. There was a tearing, and thinking back on it latter, he remembered the feeling from many times before. The pain, the anger, the fear came bounding on top of him, and for the first time in many years, he was truely afraid. Then, it was gone as quickly as it had arrived, leaving him with nothing.
There was no fear, no pain, no anger, there was nothing except for emptiness inside. He felt disconnected from himself, as though he was no longer there. Looking down, he saw his body disintegrating into dust before his eyes, but it meant nothing to him. He had no tears to cry, no eyes to cry with anymore.
Looking down on his body, he felt disconnected again. That body down there, it wasn't his, it was somebody else who was fading into the sands of time. Even his mind was slipping away, his thoughts, memories, feelings, all fading away until he was left with nothing but his torn and ripped soul.
He tried to walk forwards, but he had no legs to move; he tried to speak, but he had no lips to speak with; he tried to rip out his heart, to feel something, but he could not. He was nothing, he was less than the smoke of the burning buildings that whipped through the wind that he could no longer feel.
He looked down to see the last remains of his own body swept away into the wind, leaving no marking of his passing save for the bodies of the two wizards, their child wrapped in the dead arms of the woman. As he rose higher, clouds came between him and the ground, and he could see nothing but the gray of storm clouds. Rain began to beat down on the ground, but it went through him, and though he tried to taste it, to take away the taste in his mouth, he could neither taste, nor feel it.
Looking down at his own hands, he saw them as white against the dark gray of the sky, and though they too looked as though they would be blown away at the slightest of winds, they stayed with the rest of his body. He wanted to scream, to cry, to die again just to feel the pain of living, the pain he had seen for so many years as a weakness. For the first time in his life, he wanted to feel human again.
"Please!" he heard someone calling. "Please, spare him! Take me instead! Please..."
He shook his head, tried to get their voices out of his head, but they never left. He wanted to put his hands to his head, to rip their voices out of his memory, but he could not.
"Why?" another voice begged. "Why are you doing this? What did I ever do to deserve this, my lord? Why?"
"I'm not going to let you kill them, you hear me? You can do whatever you want to me, but I'm not going to let you hurt my friends! I'll- I'll...I'll kill you, if I have to! Please... Take me instead... You don't want them, it's me you want. They mean nothing to you; let them live! Please, take me instead!"
He did not remember that voice from before, but he shook his head again, letting another tormented voice enter his head to spill forth it's dying words.
"You killed him, you killed him!" Another voice he could not remember, only this time a womans sobbing voice. Still, he could give her voice no face or name. "You said you'd save him, that you'd spare him! I did everything you asked me to do, everything, and you still killed him! Why? Why!?"
He wanted to cry out at her voice, he wanted them to go away, to leave him alone, but they never did, they never would. He could already feel other voices merging on him, and as hard as he tried, they would never leave him.
"I guess this is the end, isn't it. Funny that it should all end where it began, don't you think so? After all these years, it's finally over. So much blood has been spilled, just for this moment. Everyone I ever loved, is dead at your hands. Blood graces both our hands, blood of the people we have killed just to be able to face each other. Well, that moment's here. Are you ready, Voldemort? Stop hidding like the fool you are, and face me like a man! You told me once that you wanted to see the light leave my eyes when you killed me. I suppose our places have been switched from then. It is I who wants to see the light leave your eyes, when I kill you! Or are you afraid? It is you, against me. Nothing more, nothing less. What is there to fear from death? We've both faced it before, yet who stands here, unafaid? Come out and face death, for you are it's lord! Come and bow to me, Voldemort! Come and bow to death!"

End of Scroll Three

~La MaitressedeMort

Scroll Four

~Warning, this one's a tad more romantic than I normally go, so for my sweet love children who don't like romancy stuff, just thought I'd let you know. Nothing PG 13, but be reminiscent of Harry and Cho, only... not~

Lucius rubbed his arm absent mindedly, his fingers tracing around where the snake had once been so vividly. The pain as it's image had faded was leaving, yet he continued to rub the spot, as though begging for it to return. Noticing his fingers, he stopped, and dropped his arms to his side, the sleeves of his robes covering up the spot.
He knew why it was gone; they all did. Yet he doubted, wondered if it was real, or if he would walk out his front door to find the Dark Lord standing on his doorstep, wondering why he'd turned his back on his master.
It's been months since he'd stood there, screaming in pain as he felt it leave him; then, he was free. He wasn't sure if it was a curse, or a blessing.
'Of course it's not,' he told himself, beginning to pace as he often did when he found himself alone, reminiscent. 'He's gone, that' s all there is to it. I've lost my master- No, he was never that. I've never had a master, ever.'
He stopped, shook his head, and walked over to the window where he drew the curtains aside, and stared out into the darkness.
It'd all changed since then. Back then, he would have walked the streets, knowing there was no one who could touch him. They rulled the night, and their memories haunted the day. Now, they feared the night, knowing that ears were listening, and eyes were watching their every move. Even in the day, when they braved to walk the streets of the filthy disgraced wizzards and witches, they felt as though they didn't belong. Even now, it was hard to find a man who didn't flinch in his presence.
"We used to be respected," he said, leaning his head against the dirty window. "This family name held honor. We were proud to bear this name!" Lucius slammed his fist against the window, the crack deepening from the last time he'd slammed against it.
"And why aren't we now?" Narcissa walked up from behind him, placing her arms around his chest, and her head on his shoulder. "I am not ashamed to be a Malfoy, and there's no reason you should be either. This name still demands respect."
"Amongst who, the Ministry, or the Death Eaters?" He sighed, and kissing her lightly on the cheek, pulled the curtains closed until there was only a crack of moonlight coming through the silt in the double curtains. "You've seen the way they look at us." He kissed her again, and pulled her into his arms, his head now on her shoulder.
"And since when have you cared what the Ministry thinks, huh?" Naricssa laughed, and kissed him back on the cheek before nestling down in his arms. "We've never cared about it, that's what. And we're not about to start."
Lucius looked back at her, sighed, and pressed her tighter into his arms. 'She's been through hell,' he thought, thinking back to when they first met, over ten years ago. 'First she lost her parents, in order to become a Death Eater, then she nearly lost her own life, and now her sister's taking the blame for Severus. All she has is Draco, and me, and Draco's only a baby. At least she didn't loose him, like...' Lucius felt a tear roll down his face, and tried to wipe it off his cheek until he realized it wasn't his, it was hers.
He wiped hers away, and pressed her closer. 'Is this ever going to be over?' he asked himself. Narcissa began to shake from her tears, and as she slumped down in his arms, he picked her up in his arms, and walked up the stairs to the room they all three shared. "Maybe now it can be," he whispered, and he closed the door behind him.

End of Scroll Four

Scroll Six

The wind blew through the tattered curtains, pushing them aside to let the moonlight slip into the darkened room. Boxes were scattered on the floor, their contents strewn as though flung from the box. China lay in pieces, some still wrapped in paper, others lying far from the others next to other broken objects. Leaves danced their way towards the door, the wind pushing them aside until they rested against something the wind couldn't move.
In one corner a trunk sat, open, it's contents spilling onto the floor until the bottom of the chest was exposed. Robes of black, several pairs, lay all around the room, holes in most of them, some from the rats, others from the normal wear and tear.
Other than that, there was only the bed against the far wall, the window directly above it, and a chair that was missing it's cushion at the side of the bed.
Once in a while, a rat squeaked as he darted across the floor to find another hiding place, where he remained until he saught another one. Sometimes someone would walk up the stairs pause just outside the room, and walk on back down them. He opened the door a few times, but closed it again after checking the sleeping figure in the bed.
She stirred a few times, mostly when the stairs creaked as the man walked up and down them, and when the door creaked on it's un-oiled hinges. The summer wind didn't seem to bother her, as she slept even when it was raging through the curtain. Once she shreiked, as though in pain, and the man ran to her side, and cradled her in his arms. She whimpered a little, then fell back into sleep. He sat next to her, stroking her hair until she was sound asleep, and then he left again.
A baby cried in the room next to her, but it was quickly hushed by the man, who took it in his arms, and carried it downstairs with him. The two sat in the main room that served as kitchen, dining room, and living room, rocking back and forth to a tune the man hummed absentmindedly. It was morning before he moved again, and that was only to feed the child, and put him back to sleep.
It was calm, sitting there as the sun creaped through the curtains. Calm even as sounds of the rest of the world filtered through the walls. As the rest of the world came to life, inside their small house, it remained in it's stupor of silence.
A stranger came by the house, and knocked on the old wooden door causing a hollow knock to echo through the house. The baby began to cry lightly, and the woman stirred again, but the man just sat there, watching the darkness. The stranger knocked twice more, then walked away; the man watched him out of the corner of his eye, then went back to staring at the darkness.
For a while, nothing moved in the house. When the sun was directly overhead, the man went to check on the woman again, and then the baby, both who were sleeping. Sitting down next to the woman, he took her hand in his, and held it tightly as the other hand brushed the hair away from her cheek. He stared into her calm face, kissed her lightly on the cheek, and walked out again.
The next time he moved from his chair down stairs, sun had set, leaving him alone in the darkness. He checked on his sleeping family, then walked out the door, his wand in one hand, his cloak in the other. He pulled the cloak around him, and he suddenly vanished into the shadows. The neighbors saw nothing.
When he returned, it was still dark, though a few rays of light had began to break the shadows. He pulled off his cloak, threw his wand on the floor, and putting his hand to the fresh wound, the blood dripping on the floor, walked back upstairs to sit next to his wife.
She would wake, and he would be sitting beside her, the wound, now old, still bleeding lightly through his fingers. She'd question, pull his robes aside to view the wound, then settle back, and sigh as her thought went to the past. He'd watch curiously, ask her what she was thinking, and she'd only shrug as she settled down in his arms, tears in her eyes.

End of Scroll Five

This is a continuation of Scroll Four, but I didn't think it belonged, so it has it's own scroll.

~Aeryn~

Scroll Seven

A rat scurried across the floor, darting into a corner, his steps followed by several pairs of eyes underneath their black robes. There was a pause, and from the shadows a man emerged, his hand twitching, his rat-like nose sniffing the stale air. He was short and portly, though he had the air about him like someone who hadn't eaten in a very long time.
The others watched closely, many drawing their wands as he emerged from the shadows and pointing them at his chest. One, who sat in a chair apart from the others, only watched curiously, a cigar in his hands blowing puffs of smoke from his darkened surroundings.
"What are you doing here?" The man in the front grabbed his jacket, and pulled the shorter one, who struggled to no avail, into the lamp light. "You betrayed us, you filthy animal! We should hang you for what you did."
"And would the Potters have died without me?" he said. His voice was unnaturally high, but one look at his appearance, and it's squeak fit him nicely. "I did what not even the Dark Lord could do!"
"And because of you, he's gone!" Another man pushed through, pressing the tip of his wand to the short man's chest. "You dare speak his name, you filthy little-"
"Enough gentlemen." The man in the shadows spoke now, and all turned in his direction, those closest to him backing away. "You are behaving like children. Do you honestly think the Dark Lord would allow this type of behavior, Malfoy?"
"Of course not, sir." The man in the front bowed, and releasing the shorter one, backed into the shadows.
"And you, Crouch. Do not make me tell your father what you've done."
"Yes sir." The other bowed his way into the shadows leaving the short man kneeling before the man in the shadows, whimpering.
"Now, Wormtail. Please explain yourself."
He squeaked a few times, staring cautiously at the man in the shadows before continuing, his voice higher than before. "Well, the Potters had entrusted Sirius Black as their Secret Keeper-"
"Filthy traitor!" someone shouted. The man in the shadows stared, smoke still billowing from underneath his hood. "Sorry, sir."
"He knew we were after him," Wormtail continued after a nod from the man in the shadows. "Dumbledore knew it too. I pushed him, I pushed Sirius into making me their Secret Keeper. I never thought he'd fall for it, but he did. It wasn't hard; he's always had a soft spot for me."
"Enough with the reminiscing." Malfoy pushed his way back into the center, the people parting as Crabbe and Goyle followed behind him. "So it was by accident then, was it? I knew you were worthless!"
"I never trusted him," Goyle hissed from behind Malfoy. "He was their friend then, what's to say he isn't now?"
"Hush, hush Goyle." The man in the shadows rose, dropping his cigar and crushing it beneath his foot. "The Dark Lord trusted him. You should too." He paused to let the man apologize, and bow away before turning his attention to Malfoy. "And you, Lucius. What have you done for us lately? Or have you been to busy pretending you were under the Imperius curse? I've seen it, from all of you! It's pathetic."
"And how are you different from any of us, Severus?"
"Because unlike the rest of you slime, I'm not scrounging around looking for the spoils of the Ministry. I'm not going to sink that low. No Death Eater should bow to the Ministry!"
Several of the men cheered, but he hushed them by a wave of his hand. "We must integrate, it is the only way we will survive. But that does not mean we have to sink to the level of Mudbloods. We're better than that. Unless you want to disgrace your own names, that's your choice." Stepping out from the shadows, he drew his wand, pointing it at Wormtail's quivering chest. "He did what none of us could. He doesn't deserve your blame."
"Than who does?" Malfoy demanded.
Severus looked at him, than turned, and walked back into the shadows, refusing to answer. When he was far from the place, he looked back a the candle in the window, the sound of Wormtail's screams shaking him to the core. He sighed, and walked away, the answer to Malfoy's question on his lips.
"I do."

End of Scroll Seven

~Aeryn~

Note: This is a very graphic part, I do believe. I put a warning on it, but if you don't want to read bloody/odd connotations, then don't read it. It's not too adult, and I think I've toned it down, but just so you know. I don't want anyone getting to upset by this. I will put a warning, as soon as I know. It's nothing too bad, really. But, some people don't like the repeated blood talk and such. Thanks for your patience with this! The next few should be much more apropriate.

Scroll Eight

I killed her. I did it, I killed her. I did it. I did it. I did it! You hear me, I killed her! I killed them all, all of them, every last one. They deserved it to, you know. They deserved it, and I'm not sorry. I won't say it. I'm not sorry!
Yes you are.
No I'm not! I wanted them dead, so I killed them! I liked it... It tasted good, too. I want more, more, more, more! I want more, give it to me! I want to kill again, I want to taste it! Oh, gods! Oh, oh, oh! It's so good, please...I want more, I need more! I want it. Please! Give it to me! Give it to me now! Now, I want it back! Now!
No you don't.
But it tastes so good... It tastes like-
Blood.
I'm covered in it. It's all over me. Blood, blood, blood. It's so warm. It's so... I want more. It's too good, it tastes too good. More, more, more, more! I'm bleeding... I'm dying! No, I can't die! I don't want to die, not now. I don't deserve this. Please! I don't want to die! I don't want to die. I don't want to die... I didn't mean to do it, I really didn't. I don't want this, please... Save me!
You killed her. You killed them. You deserve this.
I'm not going to die!
Yes you are.
No, no, no, no, no, no, no! Give it to me. Now! I want more! I want more! Now! I want it! More...Please? Won't you let me have it? I just, I just... I need it, I have to have it. I'm going to die unless you give it to me. They'll kill me if you don't.
No.
No?
You don't want it. You killed them. You can't have any more, because you killed them. It's your punishment.
She's dead.
Yes, she is.
She's dead, and I killed her. Me, I--I did it. I did it! I did it! I told you so. You didn't believe me, but I did it. I killed her...Her, her blood. It's all over me...I'm, drowning in it...There's so much, so, so much...So, so...good...delicious...Blood. NO! NO! NO! NO! I can't do that! It's her blood, I can't... Get it off me, now! I don't want it! Please, get it off me! I-I...Blood...More, more, more, more. There's so much, so much blood. Oh, oh, oh... Oh, this is good. This is, this is good... Oh...
It's her blood.
I know, I know, I know that. But, it's soo....good...I love this taste, it's wonderful. I feel, free. Alive, I'm alive! I'm not dead! I'm alive, did you hear that? I'm alive! She saved me. Her blood, it saved me...She brought me back to life! I drank her blood, and I lived!
And she's dead.
She-she's dead? Are you sure? No, I don't believe you! She's alive, she's here! Come back! Come back here! I want her back, now! I want her back! She's mine, mine, all mine! You can't have any! I won't let you have any. It's mine!
I don't want any.
Yes you do! You killed her, and now you want her back! You killed her, you selfish *******! You killed her! Why? Why, why, why? Why'd you do that? She didn't deserve it. She was...Innocent. She never did anything wrong. It was-It was all me! I did it! I'm the one who deserves to be punished, not her! Let her go! Kill me instead! It's all my fault! I did it! I did it! I did it!
You killed her.
No, you did! You killed her! It's her blood. It's all over you! Burn him, burn him! He's the killer! He did it, I told you so! He's the killer, that witch! Witch! Burn him! He's a witch! He practices in Dark Magick, he's going to kill us all! Witch! Burn, burn, burn, burn.
Fire.
Save me! Save me! Save me! I'm burning, burning! I can smell it, it smells like... Blood, burning. Oh, oh, oh oh... Oh, no, no, no...Stop this, stop it please. No, more! More! Oh gods, this is good... Oh...More, more, more! I want more! Don't stop, give me more! I want it, I need it! Please, more. I want more. I'm going to die unless I have more...Blood.
Her's, or yours?
It's all over me! Get it off of me! I--Must--Wash--This---Off! I need it off! No, there's more! It's mine! All mine! Get your dirty hands off! It's all mine, mine, mine, mine! You can't have any! It's my blood, mine, all mine! I won't let you have any.
You're dying.
No I'm not!
Yes you are. You're dying. You killed her, you killed them all, and now you're going to kill yourself. You killed them. You want to die.
Kill me! Kill me, and get it over with! Please, just kill me! I don't want this any more! I want to die! I want to...I want to be with her forever. I want her, give her to me! I want her now! Now, now, now, now, now! I want her! You can't keep her, she's mine! Give her back!
No.
Yes! Give her back! I want her back! She's mine, all mine! I want her back! I need her...I need...the taste. I need her blood, it...It's soo good...I need more.
No.
More, more, more... Please, give me more.
No.
Please.
No.
No, no, no, no, no!
No.
Why not?
Because.
Why? I want more, it's so good...I love it! Please, give me more! Please?
Because. Because I said so.

End of Scroll Eight

Note: I might add more to this, but this is where I will leave it for now, kay?

~Aeryn~

Now you can say I'm a filthy liar, because this one is going to be just like the last one, cause I'm not in the best mood ever, actually, I'm in my awkward creative mood, meaning that I feel like writing like this, and I'm going to. So, if you didn't like scroll eight, you probably won't like this one either. Sorry...


Scroll Nine
I'm afraid to tell the truth.
But it's the right thing to do, you know that.
But it's going to hurt, isn't it, and I don't want that. I don't like that very much.
Yes you do.
No, no, no, no, I don't like this, I don't want to do this any more!
I'm not making you do anything.
Yes you are, you want me to hurt, you want me to die! You like it, don't you?
No, you do.
I don't like this at all, because I don't want to hurt, I don't want to do anything that is going to hurt-
Her.
No, me, me, me! It's all about me! I did it, and now-
You're going to pay for it.
No I won't, cause I'm not going to tell the truth! She died, and it wasn't my fault! I didn't do it, I didn't do anything!
You killed her.
No, no, no, no! I didn't hurt her, I wouldn't hurt her! Never, ever- I loved her, I love her, I will lover her. Please, give me a chance!
No.
Please, I didn't do it.
Yes you did.
I killed her? I did? Why?
I don't know.
Yes you do! You know, because you killed her! You killed her, and it's all your fault, and I'm going to tell the truth!
That you did it?
No, because that's not the truth. You did it.
You did.
No, no, no, no! Stop lying to me! I didn't kill her, I loved her!
No, you killed her. It was her blood on your hands.
Stop, stop, stop it now!
Why?
Because.
Because why?
Because. I want to die.
Well, you can't.
Who said so?
He did.
He doesn't control me, he has no power over me! I chose to be free, you hear that? Free, free, free! All on my own. I don't need him, or you anymore.
He's not done with you.
Yes, yes, yes he is! I told you, I don't want anything to do with him anymore, or you! You're a liar, that's what! You lie; he hates me!
He loves you.
He hates me, hates me, me, me! He loves her!
You killed her.
No, you did. He loved her, and you killed her, and now he thinks I did it, and he hates me, me, but I didn't do it, I didn't do anything! I'm innocent, you have to help me!
No.
Please, please, please, help me, why won't you help me! I need you, please, you have to save me, or he'll kill me, he'll do to me what he did to her.
Her?
Her! He killed her, and now he's going to kill me!
Her blood.
I see it, I taste it, I... I did it, didn't I? Really, I did it? No, no, no, no... I didn't, I wouldn't, I can't have. I shouldn't have.
But you did.
And, now, I have to pay for it. I have to die for it, don't I?
Yes you do.
Will you die for me?

End of Scroll Nine


~Aeryn~

And now I'm not a filthy liar, cause this is different, only not, but it is. I need to go back to characters one of these days, but random emo stuff is fun, and besides, I can say that each is based on a character and you should tell me which is which!

Scroll Ten
She was able to feel him, touch him, taste him but no matter the distance, she was always unable to see him, unable to know if he was really there, or if he existed within her delusional mind that created reality for her, and obscured everything else until they were blended into one, a twisted world that she understood save for when the real world began to slip back into her consciousness, at which point she was utterly confused, knowing not where up and down were, nor where she was, nor what she had become to make her so different from what she used to understand before--before there was the nothingness inside, before she felt so separated from the world--to the extent that the world inside of her head made more sense, a world that she had created to fill the void the real world had left inside of her, fooling her to believe she was being healed, but was actually being torn in pieces that were to soon scatter the winds, but at the moment were collected in a pile, as though about the be incinerated--incarcerated--into the feared kingdom of despair and ash, where nothing ruled, but where nothing could move to take control, not even of themselves, leaving all to be under the dominion of their own feeble minds, and as hers began to slip away, it's burned pieces scattered to the winds to be carried far away only to serve no purpose but to blacken the sky and the dirt, she was then able to see him and know what she felt, and touched, and tasted, and she was so caught up in the wonder of what she had found that she nearly forgot to speak, to feel the words sliding out, moving the air, saving her life as she clung to them desperately, begging some higher being she believed nothing in, that she would be able to make through, that somehow she would end up alive, and with him, with the one she'd never stopped loving, despite the pain, the fear, the lies, she had never stopped to question him, never stopped loving him, because she was able to believe so deeply in the goodness of his heart, in the power of the darkness, the power that was swallowing her up, the nothingness that she both despised and loved because it was something that she could understand unlike the fire that raged inside of her, tore her to pieces, took away everything that she had ever cared about, leaving her insides charred--she could taste the ash from their incineration-- and broken like her heart, the one he could heal, the only one who she would ever let in, because he was the only one who could save her from the all encompassing void as the touch of his hand on her lips, the taste of his skin on hers, the smell of his wonder, his love for her, pulling her closer, deeper down, she didn't know what the truth was, or if she was falling or flying, but she knew that this was what she wanted, because it was better than being alone, better than having to face it alone, even if she was surrounded by the evils of the light, the evils of darkness--she didn't know where she belonged--and so she slipped deeper into her own mind, putting it all behind her, leaving it there to rot with the rest of reality to live in the light of her mind, the place where the shadows were all banished, save for one, where she kept his memories, locked them away so she didn't have to be so alone, so she could have him with her, even when he was far away, buried so deep she couldn't follow despite that she dug, desperately, to save his life, to keep him away from the lies--the truth--but the sand kept falling back until it started to bury her with him, and while she wanted nothing more than to be with him, nothing more than to feel him next to her forever, she couldn't bear to loose control, not after she'd just found the security she'd been so long without, so she let him go, sat there in the sand, watching him fall away, and then she stole his memories, and locked them away for no one to find, for her to keep with her forever, pressed to her skin where she hoped he would keep her, for she had buried her heart with him.

End of Scroll Ten

Scroll Eleven
Pushing the door open lightly, Lucius stepped quickly into the darkened room, and closed the door behind him. His robes brushed the ground, irritating the dust that had settled over the years, but other than the sound of his ragged breathing, his presence was silent.
He took a quite glance at the sleeping figure in the bed, not long enough to notice anything besides the fact that she was asleep. He sighed, and took his usual place in the chair next to the window, where the only light in the room streamed through the dirtied glass.
There was a crack in the window, and each time the wind blew, a light whistling sound entered the room, but it did not distract either of them. Lucius allowed himself to become absorbed in his thoughts, and although he was still aware of what was going on around him, to an outsider he would look completely disjointed from the present.
He thought mostly of her, of their future, and what little he could do about it. He never allowed himself to glance at her, though, fearing that if he did, his actions would be irrational, and he would further damage her life. At times, he thought it would be best if he left her, took away all traces so that she could never again think of him, and then maybe she would move on. But he knew too well that she would not forget him so easily, and that he could never force himself to hurt her like that, so he continued to debate with himself.
When his thoughts deviated from her, as they often did after a long day, he would also think of the other Death Eaters, and what they had made of their lives since the fall. He wouldn't let himself think his leaders name, believing he would awaken some demon inside of himself that still thirsted for the violence and the unwonted bloodshed.
He knew what horrible fate had befallen her sister, and although he agreed that it was not a fate she deserved, he could not find it in his heart to pity her. He still believed that she did not belong next to him, that she did not deserve to be accredited to such a crime, but that her husband should take the blame to pay for what he'd done to her. That crime in itself was worthy of the sentence, and he knew he was not alone in that belief.
The man she had loved had also undertaken a fate that was not his own, and though he was the one guilty, he believed like others that Lestrange deserved to be punished, if not for the crime he was imprisoned for. He didn't see it as betrayal, not then, because he was young enough to believe in the powers of love, and honest enough to swear he would do the same if his love was threatened so.
"You're worrying again, dear." The voice broke through his thoughts, disrupted all sense of rationality until his mind was focused only on her. He felt her hand on his shoulders, and though he knew he should be worrying about her, and why she was out of bed, all he could think about was how much he wanted her at that moment.
"You know I hate it when you worry so." She stroked his cheek with her hand, his unshaven face forming a smile he saved for her.
"It's better now," he admitted, turning so that she could sit on his lap while he wound his arms around her, and held her close. "Besides, I'm content with this." Taking her face in his hands, he absorbed her smiling face, the smell of her hair, and kissing her, the taste of her lips on his.
"You still haven't told me what's bothering you," she muttered, obviously torn between desire and worry herself. "I know somethings wrong."
"Theres...nothing wrong... It'll all...be fine," he said between kisses, his lips finding their way to her collarbone. His hands found her waist, and he pulled her closer until there was no space between them. "I'll deal with it."
She sighed in a mix of relief and acceptance, giving in to her own desire. "Well," she began, her cold fingers walking down his arm,"if it's nothing then, you can spare some time to stay, right?"
Her hands interlocked with his, and she pulled his fingers to her face, pressing them against her warm cheeks, but he felt none of this. His thoughts had become rational again, and despite that he wanted nothing more than what she promised, the thought of hurting her when he left again tore him apart.
"I--I want to, really." He forced himself to look into her eyes, and suddenly regretted it. She looked so happy, so content that he didn't know how he could ever have thought to refuse her. It had been so long since he'd seen her smile, long enough that he'd nearly forgotten that she could. He tried to smile for her, but he was out of practice, and simply bowed his head, his hands turning loose in her grip.
"It's okay," she said, quietly. She pried her fingers out of his grip, and started to stand up, but he held her down while his thoughts battled with themselves. "No, really. It can wait."
"I don't want to wait, though." He looked her calmly in the eyes, and saw her cautious look turn bright again, warming his heart.
"Really? Are you sure, I mean--"
"No. You were always right. What were we waiting for? I'm not going to keep on waiting, I'm not going to keep you waiting either." He sighed, trying to find the words, but they were escaping him as she pressed her cold body closer to his.
"I love you," she whispered in his ear, and at that he lost all sense of rational thought. There was nothing more important, nothing that could ever be as significant as her in the rest of his life. It was not that they had found the right moment, but that the moment had found them, and they had found themselves in a moment that was all their own.
"I love you," was all he could manage to say before he let his desire take control.

End of Scroll Eleven

Scroll Twelve

Hearing the screams around him, McNair knew instantly what they meant. He picked up his axe, grumbled slightly about having to move, and turned his back on the lot of them. Unlike the others, he felt no deep tie to the Dark Lord; he knew that he was just a man, and that as a man, he too must die at some point. He'd had it coming, gaining so much power so quickly. How it happened didn't matter so much. It was inevitable.
McNair had no worries behind this sudden fall; his name and face were unrecognizable beyond the Death Eaters. He would have no issue finding work, even if it meant for the Ministry. He'd slayed dragons before working for the Dark Lord, and thinking back, it was significantly preferable. While such a practice was illegal now, there were plenty of other beasts that were selling high on the black market, and weren't as well protected.
No, the only thought that dominated his mind was how much these secrets would be worth to the ministry. It would be easy to sell them to some Death Eater facing Azkaban, taking their money, and hoping they got a long enough sentence before they noticed how he had swindled them.
Thinking through these secrets and promises, McNair remembered how he had such a reputation. The others often thought him dim, but those who knew him, understood his mind, and the simplicity behind his words. He choose them carefully, spoke only when necesary. He listened well; for some, they needed only someone to talk to so it didn't look like they were talking to themselves, though it amounted to about the same. And he'd never betrayed a confidence. Until now.
He remembered a night when Lestrange had sought him out, completely beside himself. He was sweating on that cold winter night a few months ago. This was only the second time Lestrange had come to McNair, two years apart. But already McNair coud tell that Lestrange trusted him completely.
The first night, McNair was already planning to sell that secret to Snape, if he didn't already know. Snape was attempting to play into Dumbledore's hand on the Dark Lord's orders, and he'd do anything to convict Lestrange to a death sentance, or at the very least, help him reach that death sooner.
The second night, however, was far more important to Snape, far more personal. It not onlu contained the secret of the first night, but exposed Lestrange for what he really was. It might be too valuable to place a price on, but he knew it'd come in handy some day.
It was this on this night; McNair had just come back from a mission for the Dark Lord. He was cleaning his axe in the forest, and Lestrange, sneaking about like always, came at him from behind. Any other man would have beheaded Lestrange before even noticing who it was, but McNair just kept on wiping, waiting.
"Look," Lestrange began, his voice twitchier than usual. "I hate to do this to you, really. It's just, I need to say something---I've done something, again. I don't know what to do. I'm--I'm loosing my mind... It's just, it's all so--"
"It's fine, " McNair replied, knowing that unless Lestrange calmed down, it'd take him hours to tell the secret. " Breathe. I'm listening."
"That's really wonderful of you, McNair, really...I feel so--confused, no--I don't know, I--"
"Breathe," McNair reminded. Lestrange took in a few deep breaths, his hands ringing together; panicky as usual. "Good. Now, begin."
"You remember what I told you last time? About Bellatrix? What I... What I did to her?" He sounded just as ashamed as he did that first night. McNair thought he'd acted foolishly, but he kept that thought to himself. Anyone could tell him that, but no one did. He wouldn't listen. "Well, she's back. Or, I should say, I'm back. I left; I couldn't handle seeing her every day, knowing what I'd done. Well, the Dark Lord came for me the other day. He told me he had a special task for me. Ha! I should have seen it there, but I didn't.
"He wants me to go to Azkaban for me. Wants me to! Says Snape tortured a couple, and nearly got caught. And now I have to go to prison for that failure! Aparently Snape has something more important to do..." Lestrange changed at this point. He didn't look as fanatical as usual. He almost looked afraid. "I have to take the blame for him. With her."
"And?" McNair understood that Lestrange wanted his help, but he didn't know what he could do. He knew what he wouldn't do, and hoped Lestrange wasn't hinting at that.
"I don't know what to do!" Lestrange screamed. "We can't take the blame ourselves; they'll murder us for it. And you know what'll happen if I let her die. She's too important, to both of them. I'd rather die at the hands of the Death Eaters, any day."
"So, you want me to find someone who'll take the blame with you." McNair had avoided putting himself at risk, and condemned countless others.
"Yes, yes! Exactly. I know no Death Eater will willingly come, but... We need innocents. We need others, possibly those suspected by the Ministry already, but were false leads. As many as we can find."
"Might I suggest Barty Crouch Junior."
"Of course!" Lestrange would have hugged him had he not been holding his axe defensivly. McNair was rather content not to be hugged by Lestrange, even when he was sane. "He's young, and even if he's not tied to anything, he's crazy enough to come with. Thank's McNair! You've saved my life!"
Thinking back, McNair remember that tonight was the night they turned themselves in. He wondered if they would now, that the Dark Lord was gone. Would they wait, or would Lestrange's guilt take control, and go past reason just to escape from his 'wife'? Everyone knew how she hated him, how her heart lay with someone else. McNair was one of the few to know that it was Snape, but that was only because he listened well. He was one of three or four who knew how Lestrange had tried to take back his wife. Those secrets would pay well. And in the hands of the right people, he could change the world.
McNair shook those presumptuous thoughts from his head, and walked on. There were other secrets, less powerful, less expensive secrets. Those he woudl sell. Some secrets would stay hidden until it was right.

End of Scroll Twelve