Houses Competition: Year 2, Round 7

House: Hufflepuff

Year: 3

Category: Short

[Prompt]: "You have no power over me." "You sure about that?"

Word Count: 1513

Beta: Aya, Margaret


Tags: Unseen Scene


Futility


Amelia Bones was not a very complicated woman, and so she preferred to keep things as uncomplicated as possible. She lived her life by one simple rule: do what is right and be fair.

She'd tried to live by this rule all her life, no matter how dire the circumstances were. Even after her parents, her brother and his family were killed, she needed to hold on to this belief even more surely; she had to believe that the man responsible for their deaths would be meted out with what he deserved.

And so when she had heard that that wizard had met his end at the hands of a baby, she had cried. Maybe life was fair after all.

But nearly a decade later, she had been one of the first to hear the rumours. That the aforementioned baby had grown up, and had come face to face with the wizard, albeit in a weakened form.

Apparently, he was gone for good this time. The look on Dumbledore's face when this conclusion had been made told her otherwise.

And she'd been right to not let herself believe that he was gone, because four years later, she was trying a fifteen year old boy, who had been labelled 'crazy' when he said that he was back. A fifteen-year-old who had performed the Patronus Charm, all by himself. He claimed to have been protecting his cousin from a Dementor.

Dementor!

She could see the scepticism on her colleagues' faces, but something about the stricken face of the boy told her that he was not lying about why the Dementors would be out there in the first place. There's also something about the way Dumbledore carried himself that makes her believe the boy, the air of caution around him.

A year later, everyone knew and everyone believed. He was back. Stronger than before, and back, probably for good.

And as uncomplicated and simple Amelia Bones was, she was not stupid. She knew she was talented with magic, powerful when she wanted to be. Which was why the second she had found out about his being back for good, she knew that there would be a point where they would come for her. They would try to convince her to join their cause and try everything they possibly could.

And so when she heard the door of her living room fly off its hinges one night, her hand flew to grab the wand from under her pillow. Sitting up, she waited calmly on the edge of her bed, eyes fixed on the door, wand pointed at it.

She watched the doorknob turn, squeaking as it did and the door clicked open. The second she caught sight of the black robes and the silver mask, she, in an unnervingly calm voice, said, "Stupefy!"

There was a flash of red light and a soft thud. She stood up and walked towards the door, straining her ears, but heard nothing.

Have they sent only one?

That surprised her because when Death Eaters came, they came in swarming numbers. She walked over to the window and peered outside, but the street was as quiet as it was supposed to be at three in the morning.

Troubled, she sat back down on her bed, briefly considering contacting the Ministry and have an Auror sent over. This was not how he worked. He was all about theatrics and grand gestures; let the world know where he had been and what he had done.

She walked towards the bedroom door and stared at the body that lay on the floor, immobile. It was most definitely a small man, but of quite a meek stature.

"Incarcercous," she said, tapping the body with her wand gently.

Bending over, she removed the mask and backed away in surprise.

Peter Pettigrew.

Everyone knew that he was alive, had even reported having seen him on occasion, but seeing him in the flesh came as somewhat of a shock to her.

She remembered reading about the sentencing of Sirius Black to Azkaban over the murder of this very man. She was there when they'd whisked him off to Azkaban and he look on Black's face had haunted her for days after because she never could come to terms with the fact he could have betrayed James Potter; it had looked like he couldn't either.

And here was the man responsible for it. Wormtail, they had called him; they weren't wrong.

As she stood over the body, she wondered what could be done with him. Ideally, she would've had Aurors come in to interrogate him, but her gut told her something was amiss. It was rather odd that he had sent one of his most loyal servants, according to Harry Potter's account, alone. It didn't seem like his style.

Lost in thought, she missed the soft sound of a pop as someone apparated into her living room downstairs, followed by a couple more.

What broke her out of her troubled thoughts was the soft eerie green light that was filtering through her window. She whirled around just as a jeering voice pierced the darkness in the hallway in front of her bedroom.

"Bones."

"Lestrange."

She could see the crazed eyes of the woman in the dark, gleaming with a madness she was sure had increased ten fold from the last time she'd seen her.

Bellatrix's eyes darted to the floor behind Amelia, and her face contorted in disgust at the sight of Wormtail lying petrified on the hardwood floor.

"I knew sending him would be useless," she sneered.

"Why are you here?" asked Amelia calmly.

Bellatrix laughed incredulously, and the other hooded figures that had filed in behind her joined her.

"He was here to convince you to join us," she said dismissively. "By the looks of it, you refused," she added with hooded eyes and a smirk playing on her lips.

"He never got to that part, actually," said Amelia slowly, twirling her hand.

"I'm not surprised," said Bellatrix. "So—"

"Expelliarmus!"

And before Amelia could disapparate, she felt a cold, metallic grip on her leg. Looking down, she realized it was Wormtail, out of his bonds.

Grunting in annoyance, Amelia jerked her leg hard, as if she was shaking off an insect and pointing her wand at the floor, bellowed, "Confringo!"

As the floor gave way, Amelia slowed her fall, landing with a soft thud on the rubble. She looked up at the ceiling and realised that her ceiling would give away in a matter of minutes.

Before she could do anything, she felt herself being thrown backwards as she saw streaks of black materialise into hooded people.

"Crucio!" snarled Bellatrix, and the flash of blinding light missed Amelia by inches as she side-stepped it just in time.

"I'm warning you, Bones," said Bellatrix in a patronising tone. "You are talented. You should come over to the Dark Lord's side."

Amelia merely let out chuckle at that. "Humour doesn't suit you, Lestrange. Locomotor Mortis!"

"This won't end well for you, Bones," Bellatrix grimaced as she deflected the spell. "But I already knew that. You see that green light? Yaxley has already cast the Dark Mark."

"Densaugeo!"

As the rest of the Death Eaters prepared to cast spells of their own, Bellatrix raised a hand, stopping them all. "She's mine," she snarled. "Avada Keda—!"

"Bella…" started a voice warningly, but Bellatrix looked over her shoulder, silencing the spell immediately.

The rest of the Death Eaters took a small step back, a silent sign of heeding to the command.

A second later, Bellatrix disapparated, only to appear right in front of Amelia. Her hand held Amelia in a chokehold and pointed her wand at her throat, pressing it roughly into her neck.

"You know, there are other ways we could get you to join us," sneered Bellatrix, stepping towards Amelia in the rubble.

"You have no power over me," Amelia replied through grit teeth, voice raspy, before muttering a curse that had Bellatrix fly in the other direction.

"You sure about that?" cackled Bellatrix, picking herself off the ground, before aiming another Cruciatus Curse at Amelia, who deflected it with a calm flick of her wand.

"I hear you are quite close to your niece," said Bellatrix, running a finger over her wand. "Susan, is it?"

Amelia faltered for a second, but only for a second, as she aimed a petrifying curse at Bellatrix. This time, the spell found its mark and Bellatrix froze, her eyes wide open in shock.

Before the other Death Eaters could spring into action however, there was a sudden flurry of action and Amelia felt his presence before she saw him.

He descended from the hole in the ceiling she had only just noticed. It was almost daybreak, was the first thought to cross her mind as she watched him touch the floor of her home.

"You fight well," he said emotionlessly. "Pity you won't join us."

Amelia raised her hand, bracing herself to cast the Killing Curse for the first time in her life. But her opponent was better practiced and even took some sort of joy in casting the very curse.

He spoke in a cold, high voice, unrelenting as he said, "Avada Kedavra."