The tale of Ryan Silverleaf
Written by Anthony J. Goldstein
I spend my whole Christmas vacation with my younger brother Daniel at my apartment in London. Daniel stayed at my place since he preferred it to home, even though my guest room is pink.
It was Daniels last day before going back to Hogwarts, so our parents had decided to drop by for the weekend. And to top that Kim, my sister came to visit too.
The house felt too crowded for me. I just needed to get out and think. So I apparated to the Kent countryside and started to walk until I saw a nice hill. There I sat down and thought.
I was lookin forward to going back to work, I still look forward to that. But then again work had always been a good distraction. At least during work hours I wouldn't think of Ben.
I love Ben, even though I know that Ben doesn't love me. I have tried so hard to forget him, but nothing seems to work; nothing has worked. Everytime I tried I just came to the conclusion that I couldn't let go.
I stood up and looked around. In the distance I could see the sea and even a tiny village. My stomach made a rumbling sound. It was time for lunch.
I walked a bit into the right direction before deciding it was too far of a walk to do on an empty stomach. So I apparated to a place just outside the village, and walked into the village to see if they had a shop or a restaurant.
I soon found the only restaurant of the town. They served tea, coffee and sandwiches at least. So I ordered a cup of tea and a salmon sandwich before seating myself at a table.
Looking around the room I saw a man that looked oddly familiar. I just couldn't quite place where I had seen the man before, I somehow couldn['t remember the man's name and if I should watch out for him or not.
I walked to the man to ask. All I remember now about that conversation is that we talked about life after death and whether or not that existed, How fitting that is for the situation that arose later on.
I gave up trying to remember the man's name after a while. We finished our sandwiches in silence. After that it was time to go home. The man left about a minute before me. As I stood in front of the restaurant I contemplated on whether I should apparate or walk home. I chose to walk.
I never regretted one decision more then that one. As soon as I arrived at the back of the restaurant I felt something collide with my temple and I knew no more.
When I woke up I lay on a stone floor, my head pounding even though it was dark. My hands went for my head. I felt the blood from a wound trickling on my hands. I reached for my want. It wasn't there, it was gone.
"What?" I think I said. It was only answered by the door being closed with a bang and bolted shut afterwards.
I felt my way around the room, but there was no other exit then the door that was now bolted shut. I tried to apparate, but the room was protection against disapparation.
So I sat down. I needed people. I needed to contact people. I searched my robes and to my own surprise I was still in the possession of my journal and my quill. I just didn't have any ink.
The only things I could think of using as ink were the dirt in the dungeon, or my own blood. I chose the blood. Somehow I managed to scribble a message down to some people I thought would help me.
I only got replies from two people. One that was rather irritated by my writing. The other more willing to help.
By now I had only the dirt left to write with. I knew it was my friend Toby by the tone of the writing, his choice of words. Even though I could hardly read it. My eyes had to adjust to the dark.
Three days went by. I knew it were three days because a house-elf was apparently ordered to bring me something to eat once a day. At least they didn't let me starve totally. I used the rest of the time to think of ways to escape, but I couldn't escape thinking of other things too.
I thought of Ben. I came to the conclusion that I needed to tell him that I loved him. I would tell him when I would get out, if I could get out.
The fourth day the torture started. The man from the restaurant. They had the same voice. He apparently enjoyed to mix Muggle torture with magical. I was kicked, slapped, hit into the wall.
My one eye was swollen, my nose was broken and my arms were painful, but it was nothing. I endured it. I wasn't in a position to complain.
It was only the beginning. The fifth day, the final day arrived. A kick in the other eye, being smashed into the ceiling because I could get up without support of the wall.
An interruption. A woman entered the room. I recognised her as Emma Grey. That meant I could put a name to the man too: Ronald Grey. Noe I knew what I was dealing with. Death Eaters.
I knew then and there what was coming. I knew what the two of them specialised in: unforgivables. Subjected to the Cruciatus Curse time after time, but with breaks in between. I couldn't count them. Five, seven, ten? I wouldn't know.
At a moment the man got bored, He started pronouncing the killing curse. I said a little prayer and waited for the green light to come and claim my life. It never came.
I didn't die. The woman stopped him. Instead she broke both my arms with two more Cruciatus Curses. Then she two was bored and I passed out from the pain.
I woke up in a room that was light. At least compared with the place they held me earlier. Again there was the house-elf. The only friendly face in the house.
Apparently under orders to help me strengthen a bit the elf helped me sit up and fed me some oysters. It was probably the oysters that had drawn Ronald to the restaurant in the first place.
When I had had an oyster or three I asked for some Firewhiskey. The house-elf had informed me that I could disapparate out when I wanted to. The Firewhiskey was to serve as a pain killer.
The elf returned with a silver flacon of Firewhiskey. Luckily drinking was a thing that didn't require the use of one's arms. So I held on to it with my teeth and threw my head back to allow it to flow into my mouth.
I put my back to it's normal position. The elf took thhe bottle. I felt the liquid burn my throat. The pain lessened and I felt well enough to apparate to St. Mungo's.
Two broken arms, a few broken ribs, a broken nose, two swollen eyes, a swollen lip and some internal organ damage they said I had.
I was glad that I still had my life and just asked the nurses for a Quick Quotes Quill because I just wanted to let people know I was okay. They lended me one.
Off course I got visitors. Kim, Ben and Ed. The best and the worst were Ben's visits. Ben had send me a fruit basket., but Kim threw that one away, because she said that she could hear the fruit rotting in the basket.
I told Ben I love him. He didn't take that too well. He seemed to think that love was a proposterous idea. I just think that love is the justification of life. Something that became very apparent to me in the five days of my imprisonment.
Ed brought me a book. At least it was lighter than the book Kim gave me, but it was a detective. Considering the ordeal that I had gone through that wasn't a very good choice Ed made.
The day before I was released in Kim's care Ben came to visit me again. He wanted to show me that love was indeed useless. I liked the way he wanted to cure me of my ideas about love. But contrary to Ben's belief it only strenghtened me in my conviction.
There was a part of me that hoped he had changed his belief, but no he had moral dilemma's. To stop my own heart from breaking, to stop Ben from seeiong my tears I send him away. His presence was just too much.
Ben left angry and I cried about the decision I had made to protect the both of use. He wasn't ready and maybe he would never be ready for it.
A sentence in Kim's book stuck with me. I didn't want to believe the sentence. It seems to me that my love for Ben runs too deep for that to be true. So I quickly discarded that theory.
At Kim's place I got rather bored. I send Toby a present because he deserved it. He did so much for me when I was imprisoned.
I thought that I had dealt with all the things the torture had inflicted. I was wrong. In conversations with my friends Toby and Zara it became apparent that I was mixing things up that happened after the thing.
I have still more friends then I thought. Paul send me some quills. Unfortunately they have a manual so I keep mixing them up.
Slowly everything is getting back to normal, like before everything happened. I'm getting my wand back and I even have a reserve. I've bought some better quills and I hope I can go back to work soon. Even if it is a deskjob with supervision.