Prompt: Sickened
Title: Sickened
Word Count: 770
Rating: P-13 (For the performance of Crucio)
Prompt: Theodore Nott and Crucio -- fromqueenb23more
A/N: All that fluff I've written lately was giving me cavities. I asked queenb23more for an angsty prompt, and this is was the result of her suggestions.
Theodore had managed to stay low for months now. Had managed to keep out of trouble. Had managed to successfully blend into the crowd. So why hadn’t he looked away in time before catching Amycus’s beady eye? Crabbe and Goyle were usually the Carrows’ favorites for this kind of thing. They would’ve jumped at the chance to do this.
“Ah - Nott. I haven’t seen you at work, yet,” Amycus wheezed. “Shall we see what Sylvanus’s son can do?” He leered maliciously at him, as if sharing a crude joke.
He felt the eyes of the students on his back as he stood and walked to the front of the classroom. The second-year boy, a Ravenclaw judging from his tie, had been magically bound to a chair, so that the next class of older students could practice on him. He was rather small and sickly-looking - perhaps why he had been chosen - and stared at Theodore with wide frightened eyes.
He didn’t want to do this. He was a lot of things but he never delighted in pain. But if he didn’t, then he might end up like Longbottom, who had probably broken so many bones he was lucky to be standing.
Theodore slowly took out his wand, his hand unsteady. He’d get it over with quickly - just to satisfy the man.
“C...Crucio!”
The boy let out a sharp squeak and jolted in his chair.
“C’mon Nott!” Amycus shouted. “What have I told you? You need to mean it! This brat’s mummy’s the Auror who helped arrest your father - what would you want her to feel right now?”
If anything, he felt even sicker at the mention of his father. He had escaped, just like he knew Theodore would. But in those months without him Theodore had been happy for the first time in his life. He had no reason to hate this midget's mum.
But that wouldn’t help. So Theodore tried to feel nothing - like he used to, when life in his father’s house got too hard. It was more difficult than he expected.
“Crucio!”
The boy gave a loud yell - not a bloodcurdling scream like when the Carrows did it, but Theodore’s stomach still felt queasy. It lasted all of two seconds, but he prayed it would be enough.
“CRUCIO!”
Theodore screamed until it was as though his throat was ripped apart. Every single hair on his body was on fire. His insides were melting. Never - never - had he felt such pain in his life. He was going to die, and for the first time he would welcome it…
Then just as suddenly the pain was gone, though the memory of it lingered like shadows crawling over his skin. He got up from the floor without remembering how he got there.
An excited gleam was in Death Eater’s eye as he panted slightly. “That’s what it’s supposed to feel like, Nott,” he hissed. “Try again or you’ll get some more. And I don’t mind it at all.”
He had an even less desire to put the young boy through that kind of pain. But it was him or Theodore, and he didn’t want a reason for the Carrows to take an interest in him. Stopping himself from giving the young Ravenclaw a brief apologetic look, he raised his wand again, mustering as many angry thoughts as he could about the one person he despised.
“CRUCIO!”
The memories of his father had done the trick. The boy’s shriek was so loud that Theodore’s eardrums were pulsing as the Ravenclaw threw himself this way and that in his chair.
And for a moment - one fleeting moment - the blood rushed hotly through Theodore’s veins.
No! Horror and shame invaded his stomach like poison, and with a slash of his wand he released the curse. It had lasted no more than a few seconds, but the boy was in tears as he slumped forward in the chair. Theodore was shaking and he felt clammy. The poison grew worse.
“Better, Nott.” Amycus’s voice came as though from far away. “I knew you were your father’s son.”
But I’m not, he wanted to yell. I’m not!
The bell rung and Amycus dismissed the class. As the Death Eater's back was turned, Theodore wordlessly flicked his wand at the prisoner, releasing him from the chair. The boy barely managed to catch himself from falling over.
Theodore walked briskly and calmly out of the classroom, ignoring the whispers that followed him as he ducked into the nearest bathroom.
As soon as he was sure it was empty, Theodore dropped his things on the floor and vomited into a toilet.
A/N: I hope you aren't tried of Nott yet -- I didn't know he'd be such a popular character.
Usually I don’t like writing angst and avoid it at all costs, but I actually like how this came out. Thanks queenb23more!
One that note, I would like to announce I’m going to jump onto the bandwagon and start taking monthly prompt requests. They can be anything or any character, genre, or time period, and will most likely be between 300 and 900 words. I had so much fun with this and would like to do more.
So, what are you waiting for? Give me your worst. :-)
Word Count: 770
Rating: P-13 (For the performance of Crucio)
Prompt: Theodore Nott and Crucio -- fromqueenb23more
A/N: All that fluff I've written lately was giving me cavities. I asked queenb23more for an angsty prompt, and this is was the result of her suggestions.
Theodore had managed to stay low for months now. Had managed to keep out of trouble. Had managed to successfully blend into the crowd. So why hadn’t he looked away in time before catching Amycus’s beady eye? Crabbe and Goyle were usually the Carrows’ favorites for this kind of thing. They would’ve jumped at the chance to do this.
“Ah - Nott. I haven’t seen you at work, yet,” Amycus wheezed. “Shall we see what Sylvanus’s son can do?” He leered maliciously at him, as if sharing a crude joke.
He felt the eyes of the students on his back as he stood and walked to the front of the classroom. The second-year boy, a Ravenclaw judging from his tie, had been magically bound to a chair, so that the next class of older students could practice on him. He was rather small and sickly-looking - perhaps why he had been chosen - and stared at Theodore with wide frightened eyes.
He didn’t want to do this. He was a lot of things but he never delighted in pain. But if he didn’t, then he might end up like Longbottom, who had probably broken so many bones he was lucky to be standing.
Theodore slowly took out his wand, his hand unsteady. He’d get it over with quickly - just to satisfy the man.
“C...Crucio!”
The boy let out a sharp squeak and jolted in his chair.
“C’mon Nott!” Amycus shouted. “What have I told you? You need to mean it! This brat’s mummy’s the Auror who helped arrest your father - what would you want her to feel right now?”
If anything, he felt even sicker at the mention of his father. He had escaped, just like he knew Theodore would. But in those months without him Theodore had been happy for the first time in his life. He had no reason to hate this midget's mum.
But that wouldn’t help. So Theodore tried to feel nothing - like he used to, when life in his father’s house got too hard. It was more difficult than he expected.
“Crucio!”
The boy gave a loud yell - not a bloodcurdling scream like when the Carrows did it, but Theodore’s stomach still felt queasy. It lasted all of two seconds, but he prayed it would be enough.
“CRUCIO!”
Theodore screamed until it was as though his throat was ripped apart. Every single hair on his body was on fire. His insides were melting. Never - never - had he felt such pain in his life. He was going to die, and for the first time he would welcome it…
Then just as suddenly the pain was gone, though the memory of it lingered like shadows crawling over his skin. He got up from the floor without remembering how he got there.
An excited gleam was in Death Eater’s eye as he panted slightly. “That’s what it’s supposed to feel like, Nott,” he hissed. “Try again or you’ll get some more. And I don’t mind it at all.”
He had an even less desire to put the young boy through that kind of pain. But it was him or Theodore, and he didn’t want a reason for the Carrows to take an interest in him. Stopping himself from giving the young Ravenclaw a brief apologetic look, he raised his wand again, mustering as many angry thoughts as he could about the one person he despised.
“CRUCIO!”
The memories of his father had done the trick. The boy’s shriek was so loud that Theodore’s eardrums were pulsing as the Ravenclaw threw himself this way and that in his chair.
And for a moment - one fleeting moment - the blood rushed hotly through Theodore’s veins.
No! Horror and shame invaded his stomach like poison, and with a slash of his wand he released the curse. It had lasted no more than a few seconds, but the boy was in tears as he slumped forward in the chair. Theodore was shaking and he felt clammy. The poison grew worse.
“Better, Nott.” Amycus’s voice came as though from far away. “I knew you were your father’s son.”
But I’m not, he wanted to yell. I’m not!
The bell rung and Amycus dismissed the class. As the Death Eater's back was turned, Theodore wordlessly flicked his wand at the prisoner, releasing him from the chair. The boy barely managed to catch himself from falling over.
Theodore walked briskly and calmly out of the classroom, ignoring the whispers that followed him as he ducked into the nearest bathroom.
As soon as he was sure it was empty, Theodore dropped his things on the floor and vomited into a toilet.
A/N: I hope you aren't tried of Nott yet -- I didn't know he'd be such a popular character.
Usually I don’t like writing angst and avoid it at all costs, but I actually like how this came out. Thanks queenb23more!
One that note, I would like to announce I’m going to jump onto the bandwagon and start taking monthly prompt requests. They can be anything or any character, genre, or time period, and will most likely be between 300 and 900 words. I had so much fun with this and would like to do more.
So, what are you waiting for? Give me your worst. :-)