The Marauders: Year Five #Wattys2017

Maryrose's Mind

Maryrose's Mind

Maryrose Jenkins hung from Rudolphus Lestrange's arms, kicking as she thought a little girl of four might do. She cried and wailed and beat at Rudolphus's arms with her fists, demanding to be put down with more nerve than she truly felt. "Putmedown! Putmedown! Putmedown!!" she shrieked, though she knew perfectly well that Rudolphus Lestrange would do no such thing. She failing, kicking her feet out to press against the wall and attempt to throw Rudolphus off his balance on the stairs, and he roared in aggrevation as Walburga Black looked on, an expression of shock on her face. In all the time that Lucy Minchum had been in her care, this was the most the child had said or done yet.

Rudolphus slammed through the door labeled R.A.B., and sure enough everything had been blasted quite a lot about the room. Feathers, just as James had imagined, were strewn about, fluttering neatly through the air still, even as Rudolphus shoved his way in. The gobstones tablet was shattered, the stones themselves rolling about across the floor (this was what had made Kreacher go into the kitchen and punish himself - the destruction of his precious Master Regulus's gobstones set). Wallpaper hung torn and ragged and the lanterns flickered, as though only barely holding onto their flame. Voldemort stood in the center of the mess, back to, wearing long robes that billowed with a cold, cold draft of air that came up through the vents in the floor. He was holding a tiny glass quidditch player in his hand - a trinket Regulus had gotten at the World Cup when they'd gone for Sirius's birthday - and the poor little figure was trying desperately to climb out of the fist Voldemort had made around him.

"I've found her, sir, she was hidin' in the library," grunted Rudolphus and he threw Maryrose to the floor violently so that she hit the wood flooring on her hands and knees and scraped her palm on a knot in the panels. She looked up and her eyes met Voldemort's and she shied back, whimpering. She wasn't even pretending at that, she really was afraid. She crawled back toward Walburga and Rudolphus but with a flick of his wand, the Dark Lord flipped her over onto her back with a loud thump and he stared down at her.

Voldemort mused quietly, his voice humming lowly and he looked toward the door and he smirked and whispered, "I see you are afraid."

She whimpered as a response.

She didn't know what she would do, only that she had time to think to figure it out. Voldemort was there to take Lucy Minchum away... he'd had Kreacher pack a bag to bring, so Voldemort did not plan on murdering her - at least not right away. All she had to do was act convincingly enough to fool him into believing her to be Lucy Minchum and she could figure out the rest when she got to wherever the destination was. She could find a way to send a message to Hogwarts, to James, for him to come and help her there. She could find a way to escape. She could do a hundred different things. But right now she had to be a terrified four year old girl, that was all she had for a plan.

She hoped that James had been smart and run for it, that he'd taken Lucy Minchum out of the house and run as fast and as hard as he could. She hoped he'd bring that medallion back to Regulus Black and that Regulus Black would know that he was brave as any Gryffindor, and that he would understand why she'd done what she'd done. She hoped he wouldn't take offense. She hoped he wouldn't hate James for it. It'd been her idea, her plan, her move. James had looked just as horrified as he ever could've when she'd leaped out from behind that curtain. She hoped, too, that, if something did happen to her, neither boy would blame himself.

Maryrose lay there, at the foot of the Dark Lord looming over her, and she thought about the wellbeing of other people.

Because that's what people like Maryrose do.