Chapter: 2. Morituri Te Salutamus
Rating/Warnings: PG-13/R for dark situations
Summary: AU. Voldemort won the war many years ago, and this year's Summer Games features a traitor from their midst.
Other links: Found at OWL
Pansy’s chin stayed high as they stumbled into the harsh sunlight. Jeers and curses of derision sounded along with smatterings of applause. A few people even threw down trash upon them. Seamus was the only witness of her fear, however, and only through their tightly held hands.
“Pretend we’re on holiday,” he whispered softly, for her ears only. “We’ve entered a competition at me family’s picnic. Nothing more.”
His humour bolstered her briefly but the comfort sputtered and died under the hisses of traitor and the feeling of dirt under her knees as she was forced to kneel alongside her lover. The hedge maze loomed nearby, radiating Darkness that chilled even the summer heat on her ravenwing hair.
“Say it!” The demand was harsh, but the once-secret lovers pressed their lips together tightly, refusing to comply. Even when the heavy booted feet of their guard struck her back and ribs, Pansy kept her silence—kept her silence like she had been doing for too many years now, for a different cause.
She refused to bow her head and instead glared up at the reptilian wizard who sat upon a bone-white throne. She’d stood beside that throne in the past, but even the memory of it disgusted her. Her knuckles were white with the force of her grip on Seamus’ hand.
“Never,” she declared and spat at MacNair’s feet, despite the narrow, red-eyed gaze of the demon king and the wild ravings of his mad queen. A small cry escaped her as a rough hand grabbed her hair and yanked her upright, and she in turn had to pull Seamus up or be tugged awkwardly on both ends, and then they were propelled toward unceremoniously toward the mouth of the maze.
She would not salute him. No more praise would fall from her lips for him or his cause.
A/N: Title comes from the saying of the gladiators, which is, “Ave, Caesar, morituri te salutamus,” which means, “Hail, Caesar, we who are about to die salute you,” that they said before going into the Coliseum. It seemed megalomaniac enough for Voldemort. This is part two of a completed eight part series. Thanks to Somigliana for the beta.