A/N: Sorry just a quick one today. Just wanted to give a little more of a look into what's going on outside of Hogwarts. Kind of gruesome, I guess. Includes death. Thanks and Please Review!

Spiralling
Chapter Sixteen
In These Woods So Dark And Deep

Leaves crunched under his boots. He couldn't help but liken the noise to the eerie sound of bones breaking under foot but he shook the morbid thought away as soon as it approached. He let out a low, dry chuckle. Look at him, pushing morbid thoughts away as he passed through the living memory of what he had done.

The woods were deep and nothing but a sliver of moon peered through the clouds overhead. He hated these woods. The canopy branches seemed to bend over him, blocking out the peepholes of stars. The trees were gnarled and twisted, playing silent witness as he walked by, his cloak brushing the ground behind him. All of it seemed to cave in on him, disgusted and resentful with his presence.

He could remember times when these woods had been a beautiful place. He had come here, proud and happy with his own, shared feasts of picnics with the other families, watched his beautiful wife smile gently, the sun turning her skin gold and her cheeks rosy…

Enough, he told himself. Chatterby Woods was no longer what he remembered it to be. He'd best acknowledge that quickly and get over it. Now all he could think of was the blood he'd spilt here, how the earth soaked it up hungrily.

As he passed on, quickening his pace, he couldn't help but feel as though the woods were watching him, silently glaring at him. We remember you. They seemed to whisper in his ear. We remember what you did.

Uneasiness spread through him as he entered the clearing, carefully studying the area before making his presence known. He'd become jumpy since the War but it had served him well.

"Almost didn't think you'd show up." Came a voice from the shadows and he immediately threw out his wand, pointed at the throat of the figure.

"Easy," the woman murmured, brushing the wand away. "I'm just gatekeeping this evening."

His skin crawled as she stared at him from behind the black mask he knew so well. Her eyes seemed to darken from between the silver swirls as she straightened and lead him to the centre of the clearing.

"You don't have to wear it now you know." He suddenly said, watching the woman's back stiffen.

"What?" she narrowed her eyes at him.

"You don't have to wear it," he clarified, gesturing to his own unmasked face. "If you're gatekeeping."

Her eyes narrowed even further and he thought he saw a tiny snare of madness in the back of her gaze. It didn't frighten him; he saw the same in his mirror every morning. "S'none of your business." She snarled, pointing to a small muddy brown snake in the middle of the grass. "There it is. Move along."

"But you don't." he insisted, not knowing why he was pushing it so hard.

"Just get a move on." The woman growled. There was a pause while the man kneeled before the stone snake. He glanced up at her, his eyes filled with realisation.

"It makes it easier doesn't it?" he murmured, tapping his wand against his own cheek, conjuring an identical mask to spread across his features. The woman hesitated but nodded ever so slightly, her gaze cast downwards. "You shouldn't feel ashamed of what we're doing." He said, slowly. "We're simply taking our own back."

The woman sighed, shakily and brushed something on a chain around her neck. "So many years spent in pain. You'd think I'd have realised they deserve it by now." She hissed, her fingers trembling.

The man's mouth quirked upwards in a rather unpleasant smile. "They are undeserving." He said, feeling the strength in his words. "They are unworthy."

There was a snap of twigs at the edge of the clearing and the woman looked backwards to her new charge before she looked at him and nodded once. "It's a boy tonight. France." She said, her tone professional.

The man only nodded back and brushed his fingers against the stone snake, feeling the jolt behind his stomach as the world blurred around him, taking the woman and her mask away and bringing forward a picturesque mountain scene.

The Alps set the background to the night, dusted in pearly white snow caps and so tall they brushed the stars in the distance. He paused for a moment, taking in the lights before turning his back on it.

They were almost entirely convened. He did a quick count and realised there were only two more missing, including himself. He stepped up to the circle, his eyes flitting to the man beside him, who shuffled over to make room for him. He inclined his head slightly in thanks and turned to the centre of the grass.

"Si vous plait, je vous en prie," the boy sobbed. He was curled up on himself in the middle of the circle, clutching his stomach. The image tugged at something inside the man's throat but it faded when he began to think of his own son, who had died so many years before.

He became numb, watching as the boy's face crumpled with pain, the cleverly injected poison working its way through his system. "Maman! Je veux maman!" he cried, his tears mixed with dirt and mud. He was still in his pyjamas which were blue and trimmed with a silver silk lining. The man cocked his head, wondering how much such finery had cost. No matter, it was ruined now, torn from the boy's own nails and soaked with tears.

"Mon père, si vous plait, il peut vous payer! Tout l'argent que vous voulez. Lâchez-moi! Il peut vous payer. Maman! Aidez-moi! Je vous en prie!" the boy screamed, gasping as his throat began to swell shut. The poison was mild, far more gentle than some they could've used. Let that be your mercy, the man thought as the boy crumpled to the ground once more.

The circle of masked figures stood silent and unyielding as the boy's face turned pale. "Maman…je veux maman…si vous…si vous plait, je besoin maman…papa…aidez-moi…" his words turned to a gargle as his throat finally closed, taking his young life with him.

There was a pause of silence before one of the figures stepped forward and lifted his hands to the rest of the circle. "Tonight marks another victory, my friends." He declared. "We are gaining. Let us rejoin on the-"

There was a sudden cascade of pop!-ing noises around the area that sent a ripple of shock through the circle as the shouting began in a clattered mix of French and English.

He automatically grabbed his wand, sending a hex at the nearest Auror as they rushed into the clearing. "Arrêtez-vous! Vous êtes en états d'arrestation par Ministre de la Magie de France!"

More Aurors filled the clearing, all of them flashing badges and firing spells. "Stop where you are! You are under arrest-"

He ducked under one of his comrades as they Apparated and barely escaped one of the jinxes sent by a French Auror."Fodio morsus!"

He had to get out of here. "Arrêtez-vous maitenant et deposez votre baguettes-AH!"

"Incarcerous!"

He watched as one by one, the remaining masked-men disappeared, the rest having been smart enough to leave the second the pop! sounded.

"Stupefy!"

Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted one of his comrades fall but he knew he could not risk himself.

"Flippendo!"

The French Auror who'd been following him suddenly flew backwards, her head bumping into a heavy tree with a sickening thwump! He Disaparated just in time to see a new figure enter the scene, a figure with bright red hair…

Ronald Weasley pressed his thumb against the boy's neck, eagerly searching for a pulse or a flicker of the eyelids or a slight intake of breath. But…nothing.

Harry knelt beside him, panting after having chased one the suspects into a thicket of trees. His arm was bleeding and hanging at an awkward angle but he didn't seem to notice. "Is he…?"

"Dead," Ron finished for him, grimly.

Harry sighed, rubbing his eyes under his glasses. "This is the sixth one." He whispered as the French Ministry Officials collected amongst themselves, fixing wounds and chaining the one suspect they'd managed to stun.

"Monsieur Potter?" asked their Captain, a Monsieur Montagne. "We have to take ze man back to 'ead Quarters. Zere is a crew coming to pick up ze boy." The heavy set man glanced down at the twelve year old lying pale in the dirt.

Harry nodded and thanked the Captain, waiting until they'd left to talk to his partner. "The sixth one in three months." He continued to Ron who had carefully closed the boy's eyes with a gentle touch.

"Sick bastards," he growled, his ears turning red. He studied his fingertips and held them out to Harry. "This is poison. I think it's Nightshade."

Harry took a whiff and recoiled. "That's Nightshade alright." He stood up and sighed again. "Merlin, this is getting worse. They're getting bolder."

Ron stood up as well, noting the clean up crew had arrived to take the boy's corpse to the mortuary. He nodded at them as he walked over by Harry. "We got one of them Harry." He slapped his friend's shoulder, comfortingly. "Maybe we'll get some answers now."

"We'd better." Harry mumbled, angrily. "I'm sick of kids dying around me."

He disaparated back to the French Ministerial Head Quarters and Ron sighed, taking a last look at the boy's body and wondering how on earth he was going to tell his mother that her son had died. "Yeah, me too mate." He grunted, disappearing.

Poor kid. Back to normal broadcasting next week- Hoping to get next chapter out by Monday. Here's thee French translation, a few people reviewedd saying they'd like to know what it all meant.

"Mon père, si vous plait, il peut vous payer! Tout l'argent que vous voulez. Lâchez-moi! Il peut vous payer. Maman! Aidez-moi! Je vous en prie!"

My father, please, he can pay you! All the money you want! Let me go! He cann pay you! Mama! Help me! I beg you!

"Maman…je veux maman…si vous…si vous plait, je besoin maman…papa…aidez-moi…"

Mama...I want my mama...pl...please...I need my mama...papa...help me...

"Arrêtez-vous! Vous êtes en états d'arrestation par Ministre de la Magie de France!"

Stop! You are under arrest by the French Ministry of Magic!

"Arrêtez-vous maitenant et deposez votre baguettes-AH!"

Stop now and drop your wands-Ah!

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T. Blues