Dark Magic

Cruciamentum

The remainder of April and May's entirety passed swiftly; Harry and I decided to stay in school over the Easter Holidays. Remus was working throughout, therefore there was not much of a point in spending my time at the cottage, alone. Plus, Sirius wouldn't be there, deciding to spend his time within a 20 mile radius of Hogwarts; he wished to keep an eye on Harry and I. Admittedly, that was hard to do from afar. Every few weeks, he would appear. However, the Ministry were still hot in his tail.

Though it was still rather fresh, the Dark Mark on my left wrist grew darker and more painful each day, Karkaroff often pulling Severus aside during class to make him aware of his ever-increasing discomfort. If Severus' arm was hurting him, he was doing a rather good job at being discreet.

Harry had sent a letter to Percy regarding the conversation he shared with Sirius when we visited him in the cave. It took a while for Ron's older brother to reply, which was not nice in the slightest; merely stating that Bartemius Crouch Sr. was taking a well-deserved break. Neither Harry nor Sirius believed this, as the man had been missing for quite some time, now. His son had not mentioned anything regarding his father in my lessons with Voldemort...

Hermione continued getting hate-mail in connection to Skeeter's various articles and when she stopped opening them, howlers were sent in their place. On the positive side, we knew Skeeter was an Animagus, now. We just needed to catch her in the act and make sure we get a photograph of her doing it. Harry said he knew a boy in my year I remembered to be called Colin Creevey, who was rather skilled with a camera, that could complete such a task.

My weekly lessons at Little Hangleton had turned fortnightly, now, due to my spells improving. I knew I was nowhere near reaching the limits I could have, had I possessed a wand. Unfortunately, there was no spell to repair my broken one. Therefore, some tape had to make do for classwork. But Voldemort's lessons were getting increasingly more difficult each time. I knew I was nowhere near my previous potential, which I was grateful for. But that meant I was nowhere near powerful enough to kill my tutor, who also decided to focus his curriculum on darker spells.

Harry was required to visit Ludo Bagman with the other three champions, one night. However, Barty Crouch Sr ambushed him and Viktor Krum, in the woods. He appeared to have gone completely mad, demanding to speak to Dumbledore and conversing with trees. Harry remembered him mentioning that he had done a terrible thing, something to do with a witch that had gone missing called Bertha Jorkins and Voldemort growing in strength.

All of these things were, obviously, true. And linked, somehow. But what would Voldemort want with someone like Bertha Jorkins? She did work for the ministry, but had gone missing on a trip to Albania. No-one had heard anything from her since...

In the midst of Harry's plight to tell Dumbledore what had happened, Viktor Krum was attacked. Barty Crouch Sr had since gone missing, but I feared his son had something to do with his disappearance, my mind instantly concluding the worst. I expected a body would be found in the Forbidden Forest in the coming weeks...

The Third and final task was now a mere three and a half weeks away, Harry spending most of his weekends practising with Hermione. Therefore, I was left to my own devices. And boy, was my world lonelier without Severus in it?

"This evening, we are going to be doing something slightly different."

Voldemort's voice echoed through the crooked house atop Little Hangleton Cemetery. Before I had a chance to question him on the matter, however, Crouch had fixed his wand on me, a red jet of light emitting from it as he muttered without hesitance, "Crucio."

I hardly noticed the air being knocked from me, by entire body hitting the ground hard as the feeling of a thousand scorching knives penetrated my skin. My insides were screaming, my eyes reeling to the back of my mind as I thought to think of better times. Happier times. My brain convulsed, it felt as though every blood vessel in it was exploding, the pressure unbearable as I fought to keep myself grounded; to retain my sanity.