Chosen One: The Last Horcrux [H.G/You]

«Chapter XXXV»

My lovelies, I want to apologize in advance when you get to the end. 🥺   
     
    

Sounds of heavy stomps of footsteps dragging across the ceiling momentarily snatched your attention. Head sluggishly tilting upwards, your half lidded tired eyes watched the strands of grains and dust falling from the thin crevices of the dark old wood, where you could see small patches of brittle squeaking at the movement above. After a faint squeal of -as you presume- rusted hinges of a door swinging, a thud reverberated on the walls and now you are met with another chilling silence.

Across from where you sat, on the cold surface of the stone floor with your back against the foot of the bed— a bed which consist of a thin layer of cloth on plywood, you stared at the crawling critters corroding the remains of your meal. Your stomach violently grumbled at the sight. Feeling a slight churn in your gut you place a hand above it, another one rumbles that were now accompanied by ache. It has been a while since someone came to collect your tray and switched by a new one with the same stale bread and cheese they call meal. You don't recall exactly the last time you have eaten, but judging by the way fuzzy spots of green and white forming on the ripped side of the bread, it had been long.

Hunger wasn't new to you the first time you've woken up to this compact room you cognize as your cell, the incessant complain of your stomach for its daily fill became common that luxury is what you call if another stale bread were pushed through the small metal window on the door. The most crucial thing you were grateful to consume from the absence of food, and you can't believe you've been taking it for granted all your life, is water. You swear to Merlin, you'll exchange every piece of cheese that came along with the bread just to have liquid running down the faucet.

Your gaze shift hearing light scuffles behind the entrance. A beady, round eye surveyed you through the speakeasy grill when its panel opened from the wooden door. The same eyes that belonged to the man you wished you were able to capture last year, to free Sirius ones and for all. Alas, we can't have all the things that we want. Nothing in your life seemed to go as what you planned.

Curiosity gleams his eyes while he watch the chains around your ankles, that trailed across the ground then connects on the wall by the bed head post, scraping the floor when you sluggishly push yourself to your feet, hands gripping on the edge of the bed frame using to support your frail body. Water did keep you alive, although energy is what your body needed.

“If...if you think this...would convince me to join,” A mocking laugh erupts from your mouth. “How foolish...can you be.”

The hatch slid close again, shortly after there was a sharp click of door unlocking then its swings wide open. Peter Pettigrew appeared at the doorway, albeit it wasn't him that planned to make their presence known. A familiar man steps out of the solid barrier that blocks him from your vision and into your cell, the ends of his overworn brown leather duster coat above his buckled black coat swayed from long strided steps. He firmly gripped on the walking staff beside him, a lofty smirk etched on his face.

Eyes growing wide, you stared at him, utterly stunned. He was pretending to be Professor Moody all along. And now, because of his revelation, it was all clear to you now. The indefinable occurrence in the course of the tournament was all his cause. A brief flash of your encounter with him ripped into your mind like lightning, the bleary face of him in your memories unraveled as though a wind had swept an obscuring dust.

“It's you.”

His lips parted in a satisfied grin at your dumbfounded reaction, his tongue  pokes out and swipes across his lower lip. The same that you've seen Professor Moody did. Doubts already piqued your mind from there and then, now it was frustrating to you that you ignored the signs.