WARNINGS: explicit violence, child abuse, character death, etc.

Part II: The Comedy

"Man was matter … drop him out a window and he'll fall. Set fire to him and he'll burn. Bury him and he'll rot, like other kinds of garbage." – Joseph Heller, Catch 22

"You let him get away!" Bellatrix screeched, whirling around to face Travers.

"It's not my fault!" he snapped. "He was too fucking fast for me, what do you want?"

"I want you to get him back!" Her voice hit him like a whip. "What else is there for me to want, you idiot?"

Selwyn glanced around the Atrium nervously. Everyone was staring at them, at the mess their spells had made, at the Stunned boys, all lying at various points across the hall, at the witch with little Seamus Finnigan's hand still clutched in hers, at each other, too startled to speak or move, and he knew something had to be done.

"Bellatrix," he said, his voice sounding too loud in the sudden silence. She turned to him. "Don't you think we should take the boys and go? We can deal with the other one later."

She narrowed her eyes at him, and for a moment he thought she might – in her anger that the boy had escaped – curse him, but instead she said, "Yes, fine, yes. Travers, grab those two boys there, Selwyn, the other two," and she herself took hold of Percy, pulling him up by his hair and hissing Rennervate as she dug the point of her wand into the side of his neck.

The three Death Eaters dragged the unwilling, and in some cases only semi-conscious, children along with them to the lift. As Bellatrix passed the desk, she said to the witch with Seamus, "You, take that boy and come with us." To the look of mixed shock and confusion on her face, Bellatrix said, "He's an escaped prisoner. A Half-Blood."

The witch's eyes widened in horror, and she released him immediately.

"Don't let go of him, you idiot!" Bellatrix snapped. The witch, terrified, grabbed Seamus again, and pulled him after her towards the lift.

The lift arrived, with three young secretaries in bright robes who were conversing quietly amongst themselves.

"Out! Get out, all of you!"

The witches stared in horror at Bellatrix, and after a frozen moment they complied, wide-eyed and nervous.

This time, the boys were taken to a different room. As the lift let them off, Travers said, "Shouldn't we blindfold them?"

Bellatrix gave him a look. "No. It did no good last time. I know how to keep them where they belong."

She dragged Percy along by his hair. His face was contorted in a silent scream as tears ran down his face.

They traversed a labyrinthine path, finally descending a steep, narrow set of rough stone stairs leading to a hallway of equally rough stone, and ending abruptly at a heavy wooden door. Bellatrix pulled it open with only slight difficulty and pushed Percy inside before her. The others followed her lead, though he witch escorting Seamus did so more slowly.

"You can leave now," Bellatrix said to her.

She hesitated a moment, and Selwyn said, "Thank you for your help."

Bellatrix sneered as the woman said, almost haughtily, "You're welcome," and left.

"Now," Bellatrix said, turning to Travers and Selwyn, "the Dark Lord will be here in a few minutes. Chain the boys to that wall until then."

Travers took Seamus, and Selwyn took George, but Bellatrix said sharply, "Not him, Travers! He goes on the other side."

Long minutes passed as the two men chained the weakly struggling boys to the wall. And just as Selwyn finished with Charlie, the door opened and the Dark Lord, in heavy black robes reminiscent of the Death Eaters' own, stepped through.

"I hear there was a minor mishap with the children," he said by way of greeting.

The three lowered their heads slightly, and Bellatrix responded, "Yes, my Lord. But we got most of them back…"

"Most?"

She bit her lip. "One got away, my Lord. But it was –!"

"I don't want to hear excuses, Bella," he snapped, cutting her off.

"I'm sorry, my Lord," she said quietly.

He gave no response, instead pacing to the wall where the Weasley boys were chained. "You say only one escaped, Bella, but there are seven Weasley children, and only five here. What happened to the other one?"

"The girl died, my Lord."

"Died how? I asked for no casualties among the children, did I not?"

Bellatrix shook her head. "Yes, my Lord, but she was dead when we got there."

He turned to her, scrutinizing her face, then turned back to the boys. "Do you know their familial assignments?"

"Yes, my Lord. But the Parkinsons were expecting the girl, and the Notts the oldest boy…" she trailed off hesitantly.

"Then one of you will have to tell them what happened, won't you?" She inclined her head. "But we will deal with the Weasleys later. First…" he crossed the room to where Seamus lay in chains and knelt in front of him. "It is such a shame," he murmured, "when pure blood is marred by the filth of Muggles." He spat the word, then straightened abruptly. "Where are the parents?"

"They're being held at Treblinck," Bellatrix said.

He nodded. "Good. Very good. The boys are all Silenced, I presume?" Bellatrix nodded. "And this one, what's his name?"

"Seamus Finnigan," she said.

"Give the boy his voice back."

"My Lord?" she queried, uncertain.

"You heard me, Bellatrix. Give him his voice back."

She approached him and knelt, pushing the tip of her wand into the side of his throat as she murmured the spell.

First he coughed, then he stared at them in blank, confused fear, and then he began to cry loudly, punctuating his sobs with screams of, "Mum, mum!"

Bellatrix stood back from him, beside Lord Voldemort, trying to conceal her distaste.

"I have always believed," he began slowly, "that torture is much more satisfying when one can hear the victim. Wouldn't you agree, Bella?"

Her eyes lit up sickeningly. "Yes, my Lord," she said.

Selwyn glanced at Travers, who was gazing at the scene before them blandly, and he fought to keep the look of horror from his face.

"Do as you wish with him, Bella. We have no use for Half-Blood children."

Bellatrix smiled and leveled her wand at Seamus. On the other side of the room, a sudden motion caused Selwyn to snap his head around. Charlie strained wildly against the chains, rattling them loudly and screaming silently.

Travers turned as well, more slowly, and after a moment pointed his wand at the boy. "Petrificus totalus."

Bellatrix didn't even seem to notice the minor disruption, instead taking a tiny step closer and hissing, "Transmogrifus!"

Seamus screamed. He screamed so loudly that Selwyn jumped, not expecting it. He screamed so loudly that Selwyn could hear the boy's throat straining.

From where he was, Selwyn could see the boy's fingers twisting – backwards, over themselves, farther back and in more obscene ways than any human hand was ever meant to move. And he saw his arms pulled out to the sides, then back, and heard his elbows shatter. And he saw his mouth open, and his jaw break so that it hung down unnaturally.

His breathing was fast and shallow, almost rasping, and he choked between breaths, half coughing up blood as mucus from his nose mingled with the tears he hadn't stopped crying since he'd got his voice back dripped into his mouth.

"Crucio!"

And he screamed again, a bit more weakly, choking on his blood as he tried to breathe and scream at the same time.

She held the curse for long minutes, watching as he writhed against his chains, wildly, so that blood began to spatter against the ground, on his arms, near her feet, so that she had to take a step back to avoid being touched by the impurity that ran in his veins.

Finally, Lord Voldemort said, "That's enough, Bella." Reluctantly, she released him, and he sank, barely conscious, against the wall. "Let him bleed out," he continued. "Drain him of the filth within."

She nodded and murmured a series of words. Immediately, red roses of blood sprang up against his clothing, and Lord Voldemort inclined his head, satisfied.

"The boys, now," he said calmly, stepping away from Seamus and, with a motion of his hand, instructing the others to follow. "Travers, Obliviate and unshackle them. Selwyn, take them to the Relocation Office on the first floor – not the second, when he's done. Rookwood will take care of it from there. And make sure you tell him about the two missing children as well."

Both Death Eaters nodded, and Travers directed his wand at Charlie. "Obliviate," he said.

•••

Bill's heart was pounding wildly in his chest. Muggle London was a strange and hostile place. Cars zoomed past, honking loudly when he tried to cross the street between them; adults in strange clothes gave him suspicious, unsympathetic looks. Loud noises – and there were many of them – made him jump. He had no idea where he was, and he wandered down unfamiliar streets, trying to keep from crying.

How would he ever get home? His parents were there, and Ginny. He didn't believe that she was dead – she couldn't be. He had seen her alive, she'd smiled at him while they were underground. It was impossible. And his parents weren't dead either. His mum had just been Stunned, he knew, and whatever his dad had been hit with wasn't fatal, it couldn't have been, he knew it.

But every corner he turned seemed to bring him deeper into the city, until he was so confused that there was nothing he could do but sit on the kerb, lost and alone, and cry as the weight of it all began to crush him.

And then a voice said, "William Weasley?"

He looked up, bewildered, blinking back tears. "M-Mister Lovegood? Is that really you?"

Xenophilius smiled kindly. "It is indeed. Why are you sitting on a kerb in the middle of Muggle London?"

Bill stared at him for a moment, took a breath, and let the story tumble out in a rushed, confused jumble, punctuated only by broken sobs.

"Please, Mister Lovegood," he said finally, "please take me home! I need to go home, please, I need my parents, I need my wand, I need to get help…" he choked a bit, coughed, and let the stunned Xenophilius slowly take him into his arms.

"My wife is just inside the greengrocer's," he said soothingly, "and we'll take you home as soon as she comes out."

Bill was too tired to protest – he wanted to be home now, but he could barely open his mouth to speak out, and instead leaned heavily against Xenophilius's chest, breathing deeply and trying not to cry.

•••

When Bill, clinging tightly to Xenophilius's arm and trying to keep from vomiting, arrived just at the crest of the hill across from the Burrow, everything appeared to be normal. Songbirds spun tunes in the trees, a quiet breeze whispered through the long grasses, and the house stood as it always had, ramshackle but proud. He ran down the hill towards it, expecting his mother to meet him at the doorway with a hug, and to smell the start of dinner from within.

But he got there, and the door was standing ajar.

He pushed it in, hearing it creak slightly, and took a step inside.

Everything was in shambles. Papers were strewn across the floor, dishes lay shattered on the ground, the face of his mother's clock was broken, and pieces of glass were mixed in with the rest of the mess.

But his parents…

"Mum? Dad?" No answer.

He tried again, a little louder. "Mum? Dad!"

Still nothing. "Mum! MUM!"

He didn't hear Xenophilius come inside behind him, didn't even realize he was there until he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder; but he pushed him off. "Stop it! I need to find my mum! Where is she? She shouldn't be hiding!" He turned around. "D'you think they went to the Ministry? To look for us? I'll get my wand…I don't know why they'd leave the place in such a mess, but I guess Mum can clean up after we get back with my brothers, right?"

Xenophilius put out a hand to stop him. "I don't think you should, William. Come with me, we should leave."

"What are you talking about? I need to get my wand!"

"We can get you another wand later, just come with me."

"I don't need another wand! It's upstairs, I just need to get it, that's all! Let me go! Let me go!"

But Xenophilius was insistent in taking him outside, and he half pulled Bill out of the house, telling him, "Can't you see someone broke in? Your wand won't be up there…" and doing his best to soothe him as he took him back over the ridge to his own house, where his wife would make the boy some tea, and they would do their best to help him come to his senses.

Much like the Burrow, Xenophilius's house towered out of the landscape, a dark-coloured building like a black chess piece. The inside was bright and colourful, and Bill, who had only ever been there once, quite a few years ago, was overwhelmed at the vivid cheeriness of it.

Mrs Lovegood took one look at the duo entering and without a word set a kettle to boil before returning to where Xenophilius had deposited Bill on the couch with a plate full of rock hard cookies.

"Won't you try one, dear? Xeno says you've had an awfully long day, I'm sure you must be hungry."

Bill took one, mumbling his thanks, and nearly broke a tooth trying to bite through it.

"They're a special recipe, designed to help ward off Blibbering Humdingers," Xenophilius supplied, before guiding his wife out of the room to leave Bill alone with the cookies.

In the kitchen he continued, in a much quieter voice, "We knew this was going to happen eventually. This new government is nothing but a puppet's rule on behalf of the Ejliasch Mendrosa."

Mrs Lovegood nodded. "I'm afraid one of the Mendrosas must have infiltrated the mind of the Dark Lord," she said. "There's no other explanation for the absurd rules he's been putting in place. I'm scared, Xeno. We should have left sooner – as soon as we knew what was happening. And oh, we should have warned the Weasleys!"

Xenophilius hugged her. "We can still help William get away," he said. "Get Luna and pack a bag of only our most important things. I'll ready a Portkey for the Serengeti. Everything will be fine, and we may finally get our chance to study the Sandfish. I promise."

He pressed a little kiss to her forehead, and Mrs Lovegood rushed upstairs to pack.

"William?"

Bill looked up from the cookie he was sucking on, wondering if it would be rude to ask if he could have a tea. He knew he'd heard the kettle.

"William, we're going to be taking you to safety," Xenophilius said.

"What do you mean, 'safety'? I'm safe where I am. I just need to get my mum and dad and brothers and Ginny back from the Ministry. They'll be worried about where I am and we need to clean the house. It's a mess. You saw it, Mr Lovegood."

"I'm afraid that won't be possible, William. There's no easy way to put this, but … Your family has been taken hostage by the Ejliasch Mendrosa," he said.

"The what? What are you talking about? My family is fine, they're just at the Ministry, I need to go get them!"

"The Ejliasch Mendrosa," he said calmly, "won't give your family back. And even if they did…" he hesitated, "they would be dead."

Bill's eyes, which had until now been a bit unfocussed, swivelled keenly to face Xenophilius. "My family isn't dead! Don't you dare say that!" His voice rose sharply, and from upstairs, a baby began to cry.

"That's what the Mendrosa do," Xenophilius explained, nearing exasperation. He was sympathetic, but why couldn't the boy understand?

"Stop lying!" he screamed. "There's no such thing as a Mendoser and my family – isn't – dead!"

"William…"

"Stop it! Stop lying!" Bill stood up quickly, toppling the plate of cookies on his lap, and flew to the door, throwing it open roughly so it hit the wall with a loud bang. And he began to run over the hill towards his house.

"William!" Xenophilius called. "William!"

Mrs Lovegood rushed downstairs with Luna, wailing, in her arms. "Let him go, Xeno. He needs to see for himself. He'll be back."

•••

The Burrow was still empty when Bill got there. The door stood open, and some papers were dancing in the slight breeze. The sun was beginning to set, lending long, unfamiliar shadows to the increasingly hostile-looking house.

He went upstairs first, entering each room and calling out, "Mum? Dad? Are you in there?" each time.

He saved his own for last, padding inside a room he barely recognized. His posters hung in tatters, the door to his owl's cage creaked open and shut, open and shut, in the breeze that whispered through his broken window.

Errol lay at the bottom of the cage, eyes open and unblinking, feathers matted with dried blood.

Bill moved numbly through the room, searing for his wand. He didn't find it until he tripped over something he didn't notice in the half light and fell, hitting his chin against his dresser.

Dim tendrils of light reached under his bed, illuminating half a thin, broken stick. He stretched out a hand towards it. Half a wand. He moved closer to the bed, peering under intently, until he found what he was looking for – the other half.

Spello-tape would fix it, he was sure, and he knew there was some in the kitchen.

He stood, rubbing his bruised chin, and rushed downstairs.

But the kitchen was an even worse mess than the rest of the house, and shards of wood littered the ground – the remnants of the trap door.

Something compelled him towards it, and slowly he picked his way through the rubble, until he could look down inside.

Three bodies. Unmoving.

"Mum?" he whispered. "Dad, Ginny? Wake up!" He shook his mother a bit, and her head lolled to the side. "Mum, stop pretending!" he hissed. "You have to wake up so we can get Charlie and Percy and Fred and George and Ron back! Mum! Wake up!" His voice got increasingly louder until he was screaming and crying as he shook her, and Ginny, in his roughness, fell from her arms and tumbled into the dirt without making a sound.

"Wake up!" he screamed. "Wake up!"

He pushed his mother so that she fell face-first onto the ground. "Stop pretending! Wake up!"

"Wake up!" He chanted it like a prayer, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet, Spello-tape forgotten. "Wake up wake up wake up wakeup wakeup wakeupwakeupwakeup…"

He hiccoughed on his tears, and shook, and curled up tightly on the ground, continuing to whisper wakeupwakeupwakeup…

He must have fallen asleep because a few hours later, in the dark of night, he found himself in a bed he didn't recognize, with colourful sheets and uncomfortably embroidered pillows.

He remembered everything slowly, and when it all finally came back to him, he screamed, "Where am I?"

Mrs Lovegood rushed into the room. "Oh William," she murmured, putting a cool hand to his forehead. "Oh William…"

"They're gone," he said, finally. "They're really gone. Mrs Lovegood … we have to leave. We can't stay here, the Death Eaters…"

"I know," she said quietly. "We're leaving as soon as you think you're ready. There's a Portkey waiting –" Something exploded loudly downstairs, and Luna began to cry again. Her eyes bugged. "They must have found out… William, get out of bed, quickly!"

She pulled at his arm and he complied, following her out of the room and through unfamiliar hallways.

He saw a flurry of bright spells flying over the banisters, hitting the walls and sending pictures crashing to the ground, and little shards of glass scraping his legs. Two hooded, cloaked figures in white masks bounded up the stairs, sending a volley of red and green towards them.

"In here!" Mrs Lovegood cried, pushing him into a room before her.

And then he heard a scream – not Mrs but Mr Lovegood's – and he turned, and saw a jet of green hit her in the back, and she began to fall, almost slowly, and he saw Mr Lovegood, with Luna in one arm and holding his wand in another, shout spell after spell at the Death Eater who had hit his wife, and sometime between the spells he found the time to shout at Bill, The vase! And he knew that it was the Portkey, and he knew that the only way he would survive would be if he could get to it, and so he ran from the duelling men into the room, but neither he nor Xenophilius saw the other Death Eater, the one who ran in behind him, and the last thing he heard, just as he was reaching out for the vase that stood at the centre of an asymmetrical table, was a word.

STUPEFY!

•••

He couldn't open his eyes.

Or maybe he could, but everything remained black.

He heard a door open, then click shut, and three pairs of shoes tapped in, arrhythmic.

"It's a shame about the girl," a voice said. "Salazar knows we could use more girls, but at least we've got him."

"Theo should like him," another voice said. "Not that I approve of all the bloody work we had to do to get him back, but you've got to appreciate the boy's will to live."

A soft chuckle, then a silence until a third voice said, "Did you see that? I think he's awake now."

"Are you sure?" the first said. "We shouldn't chance it. That was a damned strong Stunner Bellatrix got him with, and if we try too much at once…"

"No, look! There it is again, his leg is twitching."

Silence. Bill wondered if they could be talking about him. He was sure he wasn't moving.

"He's awake," the second voice said authoritatively. "I've seen this before, and the boy is definitely awake."

There was a brief silence, and then the first said, "Well, if you're sure about it. Jugson, you can take him upstairs once we're done?"

The third voice, Jugson, said, "Yeah. Rookwood will deal with him from there, right?"

Bill heard no answer, and a heavy silence but for loudly laboured breathing that he was certain couldn't be his own blanketed the room.

Eventually: "I'll do it."

A silence – a hesitation?

"Obliviate!" the third voice said, and Bill sunk back against the wall.

Thoughts? All reviews are appreciated.