The Forbidden Forest lay shrouded in darkness and silence. A dense tangle of ancient trees twisted their gnarled roots and branches together, choking out most light. Occasional moonbeams pierced the canopy, illuminating small clearings where hooded figures gathered. Their masked faces were obscured by shadow as they sat quietly among the trees, watching the fading moonlight give way to gloom.
The centaurs observed the huddle of watchful, silent Death Eaters from afar, eyes narrowed in suspicion. Though other creatures had stirred nearby, none dared approach the immobile group. It didn’t take long for the centaurs to guess something was amiss, spotting a red-haired human bound to a tree, squirming against the restraints. They wondered what had enticed the Death Eaters to leave their usual pursuits and join their leader, disturbing the forest’s peace.
Yaxley lowered his hood as he leaned calmly against an enormous tree, smirking. His eyes lingered on the pained George Weasley kneeling beside him, whose struggling body tensed at his sudden announcement: “Time’s nearly up.”
One of the Death Eaters, whose covered face sported a thin black moustache, timidly asked, “Do you think they will come?”
“They should, Macnair. My instruction was clear,” Yaxley answered lazily. He glanced at Draco, tracking his squinting, cold, gray eyes as they scanned their dark surroundings for any movement. He stood a few feet away from where Yaxley stood.
Draco, who had stayed silent during the meeting so far, chose that moment to speak up. “Are you certain this place is secure?” he asked Yaxley, looking curious.
“Yes,” Yaxley drawled, clearly bored. “As I’ve said already, we have the area surrounded. They’ll alert me if anything happens.”
Though Draco’s composure remained unchanged, Yaxley noticed his discomfort in the dim moonlight. Yaxley smirked maliciously as unwanted memories surfaced from returning to the site of the second war. His triumphant duel with George Weasley in the Great Hall at Hogwarts briefly flashed through his mind. If only Lee Jordan hadn’t interfered, Yaxley would have succeeded in disarming and hexing George. Instead, he had been knocked out and slammed to the floor.
But no matter, Yaxley thought to himself, smiling wickedly as he glanced back at the struggling Weasley before him. Fate must be on my side tonight, he mused.
“Whatever you’re scheming, you’ll never succeed,” George gritted out through clenched teeth, fighting to withstand the agonizing pain. His face twisted into a sneer as he added, “Haven’t you learned anything from the war? You lost, old man! You’ll be caught and rot in Azkaban soon enough!”
Yaxley’s face hardened. He cocked his head mockingly at George. “Not when the precious Potter boy is dead. It’s a shame your twin died before witnessing that momentous event. I do wonder how your parents will cope when they find their other precious son dead. Grief can make people behave strangely, after all.”
“Leave them out of this!” George rasped, struggling against his bonds. He trembled from head to toe, thrashing about. “We can settle this ourselves,” he pleaded.
Yaxley raised his eyebrows, amused. “Struck a nerve?” he purred, voice smooth as honey. “I don’t think you can bargain. Do you?”
“Why do this, Yaxley?” George demanded. “What do you gain? You’re hurt that your master is dead and your power is gone. You’ve nowhere left to hide!”
“Yes, it was disappointing, to say the least,” Yaxley agreed mildly. “But no matter...watching the famous Boy-Who-Lived take his own life will be quite ironic—and entertaining.”
“You’re insane!” George spat back, his body tensing with anger as his brown eyes flashed with determination. “Harry would never do that!”
Yaxley simply smiled sickeningly in response. “Not without the help of the Imperius Curse,” he said smoothly, staring into the depths of the forest as he tried to spot any lingering, audacious centaurs. “But how many are we?” He indicated the group of Death Eaters around him with a casual hand motion. “We can get inside his head and offer some useful suggestions. It shouldn’t be hard.”
Some of the Death Eaters laughed as Yaxley continued for their amusement. “What shall I make him do? Get himself eaten by a giant squid? Drown himself in the lake? Cut his wrists? There are so many choices to consider. My, my, what will everyone say?”
Surrounded by hooded Death Eaters, George stared up at Yaxley in horror as the rope binding him tightened painfully. “Killing Harry won’t satisfy you,” he insisted through gritted teeth. “It won’t make you happy again.”
Yaxley sighed exaggeratedly. “Actually, forcing you to kill Potter under the Imperius Curse would bring me great satisfaction,” he sneered, eliciting approving nods from his fellow Death Eaters.
George shuddered, trying in vain to stand as the ropes cut deeper into his skin. “No, you wouldn’t—” he groaned, before collapsing back to the ground in defeat.
Yaxley spat, “Enough of this tiresome chatter. You blood traitors don’t stand a chance, so you may as well surrender now.”
George growled back, “Not until I see your stupid arse thrown into Azkaban where scum like you belong!”
With a mocking chuckle, Yaxley retorted, “You think you can accomplish anything in your current condition?”
Fixing him with a menacing glare, as if daring him to try something, George threatened, “Hurt anyone I care about and you’ll find out exactly what I can do.”
Yaxley squared his shoulders and narrowed his eyes. “I won’t find out if you’re already dead.”
“Even if I’m dead, nothing would go back to the way it was for you. I’m sure of that!” George replied defiantly.
“I wouldn’t be so confident if I were you,” Yaxley sneered. “The Dark Lord presented himself as dangerous to those who feared him, but his true plan was to empower us Purebloods to dominate Muggles and Muggle-borns.”
“You only joined him out of fear,” George hissed, “and all of you were nothing but servants greedy for his fame and wealth.”
Cruel laughter erupted from Yaxley and the Death Eaters, mocking and sinister. “Well, who wouldn’t want to be rich? I’m sure you Weasleys understand, with your embarrassing lack of money despite being Purebloods. Your family has really gone down the drain, hasn’t it?”
“Don’t you dare mock my family!” George snarled. “At least we know how to manage and find happiness despite our situation, unlike you dimwits who groveled fearfully at You-Know-Who’s feet, begging for meaningless mercy or recognition.” His tirade was suddenly cut short when an enraged Yaxley whipped out his wand and struck George with a Stinging Hex, leaving a bloody gash across his forehead.
“All right down there?” Yaxley asked with false concern, bending over George with a smug smile, his blue eyes gleaming in the darkness. George turned away, but Yaxley’s fingers wrapped around his throat with unbearable pressure, cutting off his air. George thrashed and kicked helplessly, struggling to breathe. Yaxley held him roughly by the jaw, forcing their eyes to meet. “I’d love to cut out that tongue of yours, but you’ve been too entertaining. I suppose a few more hexes for my enjoyment wouldn’t trouble you?”
The Death Eaters watched in rapt silence as Yaxley addressed George. No one dared interrupt. With a flick of his wand, Yaxley sent a Severing Charm slicing across George’s chest. George screamed in agony as blood soaked through his shirt, spreading in a growing crimson stain.
“There now, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” Yaxley sneered dramatically. “It doesn’t have to be this way—but you’ve brought this on yourself!”
Through gritted teeth, George spat, “What a pitiful scumbag you are!” Rage trembled through his limbs as he struggled to rise, but his knees buckled and he collapsed with a pained whimper.
Yaxley’s expression showed a hint of amusement. “That’s the punishment for your disrespectful words, boy. Never belittle or injure our dignity. We labored tirelessly even before the Dark Lord’s ascent. He recognized our potential and empowered us to rule and—”
Despite his labored breathing, George interrupted Yaxley with a derisive snort. “Yeah... those glory days really paid off! Look where they got you now... back in this wretched hovel, hiding and fleeing, afraid of capture!” he shouted, fury blazing within him.
Yaxley’s thin lips twitched, a vein throbbing near his temple. With a flick of his wand, he sent George crashing into a nearby tree, landing in a battered heap.
“You have admirable resilience,” Yaxley said slowly, striding towards him. “In fact, it may be one of your finest qualities. Though it’s tragic you fail to grasp the importance of the Dark Lord’s vision. As a Pureblood, you should understand its value.”
“I cannot see things as you do when your head is lodged so far up your backside!” George retorted sarcastically.
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“Disgraceful!” Yaxley suddenly roared, making those around him jump despite their rapt attention. “You will come to rue the choices you and your family have made. Sometimes you must trust others to know what is best,” he snarled through a twisted grimace, as if tasting something foul.
George raised his eyes to meet Yaxley’s gaze, his jaw twitching. “I will regret nothing!” he hissed defiantly, with finality.
“Such a waste,” Yaxley muttered, shaking his head as he clicked his tongue. “So be it. Crucio!”
George’s anguished screams echoed through the forest, even louder than before. The bindings tore at his skin, coating most of his clothes in blood, as he shook uncontrollably. When Yaxley finally lifted the torture curse, George’s body continued to tremble.
“Do you regret it now, boy?” Yaxley taunted. “That hurt, didn’t it? You don’t want me to do that again, do you?” He smiled indulgently.
George didn’t answer. Breathing heavily, he winced with even the slightest movement. When he managed to roll to his side, the pain intensified.
“I asked you whether you want me to do that again,” Yaxley said softly. “Answer me! Imper—“
Before Yaxley could finish casting the Imperius Curse, one of the Death Eaters urgently interrupted, “They’re here.”
Yaxley spun around towards the sound of cracking twigs and crunching leaves nearby. His eyes glinted with a deadly glare. At the rustling in the trees, the Death Eaters raised their wands, surrounding George and hiding him from view. Draco stood up as faint galloping could be heard from the other side of the clearing, but no one appeared.
A minute later, more crunching noises signaled the arrival of Hagrid, closely followed by the Weasleys.
“Well... well... well,” said Yaxley, his eyes searching for the boy he was eager to capture. “I see Potter is not with you.”
Arthur seemed at a loss for words to explain Harry’s whereabouts. He and the rest of the Weasleys exchanged uncertain, fearful looks.
Yaxley sighed impatiently. “It seems you need a reminder of what’s at stake.” He snapped his fingers, and the Death Eaters parted to reveal a shocked George.
“Mum… Dad!” George cried, overjoyed yet terrified to see his family again.
Molly and Arthur Weasley gasped in horror at the sight of their son George lying crumpled and bloodied on the ground. Bill and Percy stood frozen behind their anguished parents.
“George!” Molly cried as she rushed toward her fallen son. Before she could reach him, a loud bang exploded around them and she collapsed to the ground.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” threatened a pockmarked Death Eater, his wand aimed menacingly.
Hagrid helped Molly up and pulled her protectively behind him.
“Damn you, Rookwood!” shouted Percy, wand raised and body trembling with rage, as he sought out the culprit who had cursed his mother from beneath their hoods. “I’ll kill you for murdering Fred!”
Rookwood shrieked with mad, cackling laughter, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, boy!”
Yaxley let out a malicious cackle. “Percy, my friend! The Ministry’s kept you busy, I see.” He leered, tongue darting over thin lips. “How’s the head wound?”
Percy glared. “Better, now that I can kill you!” He gripped his wand tightly, yelling with rage.
“Not if I kill you first,” Yaxley retorted with vicious glee, grinning wickedly. The Death Eaters roared with laughter, lowering their hoods in delight.
“Why torment us?” Percy hissed through clenched teeth. “Is cruelty your only joy? Are you that pathetic?”
Suddenly, Hagrid lunged across the ground and grabbed Rookwood around the knees, toppling him over. He pounded the wizard into the dust until a dozen Death Eaters aimed their wands at him. Outnumbered, Hagrid reluctantly backed away.
Similarly, Arthur and Bill pointed their wands uncertainly in different directions, not knowing who to target. Arthur’s eyes fell on Draco and narrowed. Draco only raised his eyebrows dismissively.
“Can’t we all stay calm?” Yaxley said softly, casting his penetrating blue eyes around. “Though I admit, I wasn’t expecting such a family reunion.” He flashed his wicked smile. “No matter... I say, lower your wands.”
When none of the Weasleys moved, Yaxley threateningly pointed his wand at George. “Lower them now!”
After a moment’s hesitation, four wands lay on the ground.
Arthur’s gaze fell to the floor where George lay mangled and pained. Shock, anger, then blankness washed over Arthur’s face as he took in his son’s state. “What have you done to our son?!” Arthur demanded through gritted teeth.
Yaxley shrugged, pleased with himself. “Just teaching him manners,” he said casually. “Shall I demonstrate again?”
Molly’s eyes widened in alarm though she tried to stay composed.
“Point that wand at my son again,” Arthur snarled. “and you won’t see daylight!” His blue eyes blazed with fury.
The Death Eaters sneered and Yaxley gave a hollow, mocking laugh. Cocking his head to one side, he regarded Arthur with amused contempt. “Do you really think you can hurt me? Look around. You’re outnumbered here.”
Arthur glared fiercely at him, eyes burning with such rage that even George stared, horrified and shocked at his father. “You’ll find out if you try to harm him again!”
Yaxley burst into derisive laughter. “You know, I’ve heard that line before. Like father, like son indeed. George is still alive, Weasley. I’ve kept my promise since I sent you that howler.”
“And you call torturing him keeping your promise?!” Arthur yelled, shaking with fury.
Pacing menacingly before Arthur, Yaxley wore a cruel smile that twisted his face. His gaze roamed the forest as he strode casually back and forth. “Well, we must find some way to entertain ourselves while we wait patiently. Surely you understand,” he said, his soft tone all the more threatening for its quiet menace.
On the verge of tears, Molly kept her eyes fixed on her son. “My son doesn’t deserve this!”
“Oh, he’ll live,” Yaxley remarked coolly, a mocking curl to his lip. “I’ve shown mercy, unlike the Dark Lord. I don’t kill unless necessary.”
“Why are you doing this?” Arthur whispered, his voice barely audible as he turned to Yaxley.
“Don’t play dumb, Weasley. You know why.”
“This is not the way. Take me instead and I’ll do as you ask.”
Yaxley sauntered over to Arthur’s side. “I asked one simple thing from you,” he said, eyes darting around the room. “Where is he? Surely you didn’t forget to bring the famous Harry Potter?”
“No, we didn’t forget—”
“Then why isn’t he here?” Yaxley snapped. “I was clear: bring Harry Potter by midnight if you want to see your son alive again.”
“We can’t do that—”
“Crucio!” Yaxley shouted, whipping his wand toward George. George writhed and screamed in agony.
“No!” Molly cried. Her maternal instinct made her fight violently against Hagrid’s firm grasp, but he held her tight.
Yaxley lifted the curse. George lay flat on the ground, gasping for air. “Do you think this is a joke, Weasley?” Yaxley said menacingly to Arthur, twirling his wand nonchalantly. “Are you really going to challenge me? Cruc—”
Before anyone could intervene, Arthur charged forward and rammed his right shoulder into Yaxley, catching him off guard. Yaxley dropped his wand as the two tumbled backward onto the ground. Arthur swung, his fist connecting solidly with Yaxley’s jaw with a faint cracking sound. They grappled again, rolling over the ground as they fought for control. Some of the Death Eaters pointed their wands at Arthur, but Yaxley shouted a warning not to get involved. As soon as Arthur regained his composure for a moment by pinning Yaxley down and landing another blow to stun him, an explosive burst of light suddenly flung him across into a nearby tree, where he crashed onto the ground. In the chaos, Yaxley’s hand had found his wand, and with a wave, ropes materialized around Arthur, binding him in place.
Yaxley approached Arthur like a predator stalking prey, waiting for the moment to strike. “Crucio!” Yaxley bellowed into the night, his eyes glinting with rage as Arthur writhed in agony.
Helpless, the Weasleys could only watch as Death Eaters kept wands trained on them, ready to attack if they dared intervene. When Yaxley finally lifted the curse, Arthur struggled feebly against his bonds. Yaxley loomed over him menacingly before smashing a fist into Arthur’s jaw, splitting his lip.
“Even if we hand over Harry, it’s futile!” Bill interjected sharply. “He’s unconscious.”
Yaxley’s eyes flashed with anger in the darkness. “Do I look like I care what shape he’s in?” he replied coldly.
“Haven’t yer done enough damage already?” Hagrid growled, fixing Yaxley with a stern look. “Harry has suffered so much already!”
But Yaxley ignored him, turning to face Arthur with immense hatred burning in his eyes. “You’ve just given me more reason to hurt your son,” he seethed, his voice rising uncontrollably. “I think it would be even better if I just kill him now!” He raised his wand and pointed it at George once more, ready to utter the Killing Curse. George shot an imploring look toward his family.
A cackle of laughter rang out, and Yaxley spun around to face Draco, who had jumped up and strode toward him.
With all eyes on him, Draco drawled, “Now, now… do you really want to ruin your chances of getting Potter?” He wore his usual obnoxious sneer. “Have some patience.”
Yaxley’s blue eyes flickered to Draco, pulsing with rage. “Patience?” he hissed through gritted teeth, his free hand clenching into a fist. “If Harry Potter isn’t here, the Weasley dies!”
“True...” Draco agreed slowly, calculating. “But I’m sure they’ll think of something... unless—” He rounded on the Weasleys, a smirk spreading across his face. “Potter means more to them than their own family.”
Arthur gazed at him pleadingly. “Draco, I thought you changed,” he said, mouth dry. “We tried to help you—how can you do this?” His voice rang with disbelief and disappointment.
“Shouldn’t trust a Malfoy,” Percy quavered defiantly. “You’re just like your father!” he spat.
“Guess I am,” Draco retorted. “But you’re hardly in a position to insult me further.” A cruel smile tugged at his mouth as he eyed Arthur malevolently. “Do you really want your son dead, Weasley? Just give us Potter! He’s as good as dead anyway!”
Yaxley clenched his teeth impatiently. “I’ve heard enough useless chatter!” He shot an angry look at George and pointed his wand at him once more. “I’ll just do away with him! There are plenty more Weasleys left anyw—”
Yaxley’s snide remark was interrupted by a rustling somewhere behind the Weasley family. He whirled around, squinting into the dark forest. A terrible, drawn-out wail of misery and pain grew louder as it approached. Many around Yaxley looked startled, turning to find the source of the anguished cries. At first, Yaxley could only make out a silhouette in the shadows. As the figure drew near, its face was illuminated by tears streaming from its eyes.
Yaxley muttered “Horace Slughorn” under his breath, raising his eyebrows in bewilderment. He and the other Death Eaters had been trying unsuccessfully to recruit Slughorn, but why was he suddenly here before them? Surely he had not come to join their cause?
Slughorn stumbled into the clearing behind the Weasleys, cradling a blanket-wrapped figure in his arms. Only the person’s lolling head was visible. Frozen in place, Slughorn shook uncontrollably.
Most eyes followed Slughorn apprehensively as Yaxley squinted at him for a moment before striding over to see what was being presented. A chill settled over the group as the Death Eaters’ interest sharpened palpably.
Arthur stiffened and Molly’s eyes went wide, her hand flying to cover her mouth as she staggered back. The color drained from her face and she looked on the verge of being sick. Gasps burst from the other Weasleys as the air vanished from their lungs. They stood rigid and petrified, as if unable to believe the sight before them.
“No!”
“No!”
“Oh-oh-NO!” Molly wailed before collapsing into gut-wrenching sobs, burying her face in Hagrid’s arm as he lumbered forward, eyes wide with horror.
“This can’t be happenin’,” Hagrid choked out. “It can’t!”
Slughorn looked up, face swollen with tears that spilled into his mustache. “I—I couldn’t save—” He shuddered violently. “I’m so sorry!” His knees buckled as he inhaled deeply and lowered the body in his arms to the ground.
Shadowy figures crowded in, pushing closer until one shouted the shocking words that rang into the night:
“He’s dead! Harry Potter! Dead!”
To be continued...