Chapter Text
Tired.
That’s what McCreery felt. Tired from the long walk to his house from the broom factory he kept clean. Tired of the pitying looks he got from others that he passed by. Tired of having to look over his shoulder to make sure those looks didn’t turn into glares if they figured out who he was.
How did his life become like this? He used to be somebody. A proud member of the Snatchers. He even met the Dark Lord once. A story he was all too happy to share if he was in the right company and a drink was offered. A story that became more grandiose as time went on, that he would ever admit that. (Currently, it was a handshake and praise of his skills that he focused on.)
Now he was brought down to taking scraps from half-breeds and sympathizers. He couldn’t even trust former Death Eaters. Those few who weren’t tucked away in Azkaban at any rate. He had given up too much information just to keep himself out of that accursed place.
With one last furtive glance, McCreery walked up to his door. A flick of his wand and the enchantments on the door were undone. He pulled out his keys to take care of the 5 physical locks next. One could never be too careful. Quickly stepping inside, he re-locked everything and set out to pour himself some fire whiskey.
Knock knock knock.
McCreery scowled. He couldn’t believe his luck, barely got the cork off and already he’s being bothered in his own home. What he wouldn’t do to use a Fidelius Charm, but he had no one he could trust to be his Secret Keeper.
Knock knock.
“Hello? Is anyone there?”
Realizing he wouldn’t just be able to ignore them, McCreery went to the peephole, wand at the ready, just in case. He saw a distraught-looking, blond woman in a simple black coat. She was already ready to knock again when McCreery rasped out, “Go away!”
The woman seemed more glad than frightened at the gruff voice. “Please sir! My car broke down, and my phone is dead. I need to use yours to let my family know where I am.”
He didn’t understand half the words she said. Probably a muggle, which he did not need to deal with right now.
“I ain’t takin’ no visitors!”
Unfortunately, for him, she was undeterred.
“Please,” she pleaded, “I took what I thought was a shortcut and my family have no idea where I am. They didn’t even know I was coming to visit them, just kind of a surprise trip really, and I live on the other side of the country. If I don’t contact them, they’ll never be able to find me.”
McCreery, paused at this. “No one knows where you are?”
She shook her head. “No one. Please can you help me?”
He smiled. A poor helpless muggle all alone? Maybe his luck was starting to turn around. No reason he couldn’t have a little “fun” with this one.
“Of course. Come on in.”
The woman sighed in relief, probably mistaking his lewd tone for kindness. McCreery, set down his wand to undo the physical locks. He stepped aside as he swung the door open to let her in.
“Thank you so much, you are a lifesaver.” She walked in towards the living room, her eyes darting about the area, taking in her surroundings. She seemed rather calm for someone who was distressed not a minute ago.
“No problem,” he turned around to get his wand when he was suddenly thrown into the wall by some unknown force. Dazed, he looked up to see the woman, her face determined, her hand pointed towards him.
*SLAM*
With a flick of her wrist he was thrust into the opposite wall. McCreery made a half-hearted attempt at getting up and defending himself, but the stone-faced woman pulled her arm back, slamming him into a dresser as if he was attached by invisible cords to her movements. His body crumpled to the floor as he finally succumbed to unconsciousness.
***
McCreery came to, his eyes slowly opening to the sight of the mysterious woman at a table in front of him, fiddling with some knobs and dials on a strange, metal contraption. Every so often she checked a black, leather-bound book open beside her while she rubbed a small pendant around her neck, as if it was a ritual for her. He noticed she had taken off her jacket, and was now just in a simple black tee and a pair of black dress pants. Another thing he noticed is that he was bound to a chair, something he realized when he attempted to move his arms tied behind his back. The sudden movement caught the woman’s attention.
“Ah! My gracious host is awake,” she smiled. She made some last few adjustments to the device in front of her. “How’s the head?”
“Fuck you!”
“Still smarts then?” she said with a slight Irish lilt. “Well, no worries, in a few moments you won’t feel it any longer. ‘Course you won’t be feeling much of anything, but that’s besides the point.”
Seemingly finished with her work on the contraption, she grabbed her book and made her way over to McCreery. Not one to be intimidated, he decided to fight back, if not with magic, then at least with words.
“Do you have anything who you are dealing with? I have some very powerful friends who will be most upset about what you’ve done to me.”
The mysterious woman just grinned knowingly.
“Oh I know exactly who you are.” She opened her book and flipped through a few pages until she came to the page she was searching for. “Arnold McCreery. Former Snatcher to the Death Eaters, very imaginative names, “ she rolled her eyes, “complicit in no less than 15 deaths, 28 kidnappings, and one count of attempting to duel with a lamp post while drunk.” She paused to give him a withering look, while McCreery just glared. “Gave valuable information to the Ministry, leading to the capture of six high-ranking Death Eaters, in a bid to secure his own freedom. Ooh, I bet they weren’t too happy with you after that. So no, I don’t believe anyone will be coming to help you tonight, Mr. McCreery.” She lowered her face to his and stared into his eyes, daring him to deny any of what she said.
McCreery, for his part, just grunted.
“What is it that you want from me?” He didn’t see what this supposed witch was getting at.
The mysterious woman straightened up and began walking back towards the device. “Oh what any middle aged woman wants in this world, I suppose. A good book, a place to call home, one of those iPod things, those seem pretty cool.” She paused in front of the contraption. He could see her take in a deep breath as if preparing herself, then turned back towards McCreery. “But as for you, well, you have something I need.” She flipped a switch on the device, causing it to begin to hum. As she picked up a needle and hose connected to the object, the hum grew in intensity.
“I’m afraid this isn’t going to be pleasant.”