Angry

Make it easy on yourself

Official Ministry Logs - Pensieve of Interrogation
2000, 08, 27
2300 hours

Subject: Greengrass, J. - Suspected Death Eater
Personnel: Croaker, B. - Unspeakable, Smythe, P. - Recorder




Greengrass was dressed in ill fitting clothes that looked like they could have fit him five or ten pounds ago, torn and ragged, stained and dirty. The man himself had dark shadows under his dull, lifeless eyes. Different colored bruises molted across his face. There seemed to be no fight left in him, and he didn't even react when Croaker entered the room.

"Your friends have been very naughty. Very naughty, indeed."

The Unspeakable stood in front of Greengrass and grasped a handful his hair, pulling his head up so that Croaker could see his face. "Where are they taking them?"

"I -" Greengrass rasped and visibly struggled to swallow, his lips swollen and split. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Lies." Croaker jerked his hand, ripping out a chunk of hair. He brushed his hand off with a look of distaste. "Where have your associates taken the others? And why?"

Over the quite sounds of Greengrass' denial, a new voice spoke up. "Buford, he's been here for days. You know that. He may not know anything about tonight's disappearances."

Croaker turned to look at the unseen man, his lips pulled back in a snarl. "Don't ever call me that, Smythe. I am well aware of how long he's been our guest, I'm the one who brought him in, and I'm not letting him go until he tells me what I want to know."

"Won't tell you anything." The words were quiet, but there was a glimmer of defiance on Greengrass' face that said more than the barely audible words could have.

"What was that? Are we being argumentative now?" Croaker seemed to be amused. He drew his wand and tapped the end against the suspect's chest.

"Did I forget to mention I went by your house to day. Had a talk with your wife. Lovely woman. It would be shame if she were to disappear tonight, as well."

Incredibly Greengrass began to laugh, a deep painful sound that quickly turned into a rumbling, liquid cough. Blood pooled at the corner of his mouth and it was obvious that something inside was ruptured. Greengrass raised his face and spat a mouthful of blood at Croaker's feet. "Who's the liar now?"

"You'll pay for that." Dark droplets were spattered on the Unspeakable's shoes. The wand was shoved against Greengrass' temple and Croaker leaned close to whisper the spell; almost looking as if he was enjoying himself as the suspect stiffened and cried out.

The small bits of unbruised skin around the poor man's lips began to take on a blue hue, his breathing extremely labored.

Smythe spoke up once more. "Stop it, Bu-Croaker. He can't take much more. We need to get a medi-witch in here."

For once tense moment the wand was leveled at the unseen man, rage making a mockery of Croaker's handsome face. "I say what happens in here. Me. He's scum, less then nothing. His only value is in what he can tell me. His fate is in my hands and in this room I am a god!"

The wand emitted a burst of purple light and Greengrass screamed. Blood began to stream from his nose. His eyes bulged and he turned to look at the unseen observer as if seeking help, fingers stretching toward him even though his hands were tied to the chair.

Moments later it was over, and Greengrass was dead.

"Gods, what did you do?"

Buford Croaker pulled out his handkerchief and wiped the spilled blood from the top of his shoe. "I tried to save him, Smythe. You saw it. He had a heart attack during questioning. There was nothing we could do."

"You - you can't do that -"

Croaker slowly sheathed his wand. "Yes. I can."
Suspicious

Please, let's do this the hard way.

Official Ministry Logs - Pensieve of Interrogation
2000, 08, 25
1300 hours

Subject: Greengrass, J. - Suspected Death Eater
Personnel: Croaker, B. - Unspeakable, Jennings, M. - Recorder




Croaker paced around the outer edges of the small room. The suspect was tied to a metal chair in the center, sweat already pouring down the man's pale, puffy face.

He was an older man. Clothing appeared worn but cared for, although there were several ragged tears and dark stains that signified a recent struggle.

Croaker lit a cigar and puffed. Once the tip was burning merrily, he circled the room once more and then stood in front of the suspect.

"Greengrass. We already know all about you, about the men you - socialize with. Make it easier on yourself and admit it." Croaker examined the end of his cigar, not bothering to look at the man in the chair.

"I told you before, I don't know what you're talking about."

"You're lying, Greengrass. I could use Veritaserum and get my information that way, but there's no skill in that, no finesse." Croaker crouched in front of the chair and smiled a hollow, unfriendly smile.

Greengrass shook his head, torso pressing against the back of the chair as if he was trying to get away from the Unspeakable. "There's nothing to tell. Nothing." His shirt was soaked through with sweat.

"What about your wife, would she have something to tell me?"

"No. No, leave Diane out of this." Greengrass paled even more and seemed to shudder. "Please stay away from my family - stay away -" his pleading was cut short by the back of Croaker's hand.

The Unspeakable stood and hit him once more. "Stop sniveling."

Croaker crept around the chair, Greengrass straining to see the other man behind him, and leaned down to put his face next to the suspect's. "Give me what I want and I'll leave your family be. Or not. I've got all the time in the world."