A/N As always, I do not own Harry Potter.
Chapter Seven
"But but - my lord what purpose does the girl serve truly? The-the boy I understand my lord but-"
There was a hoarse, dark and almost supernatural laugh, "What purpose does she serve? You know nothing, Wormtail."
The man named Wormtail began to sputter incoherently, "No-no my lord. I understand, I do but-"
"Silence! Stop with your stuttering. Tell me Wormtail, you don't feel bad about the girl, do you?"
"No! No my lord. I feel nothing for the girl. I – I just worry that too much attention might be problematic."
There was another cackle, a mocking tone ringing through it clearly, "No one cares about the girl. She is nothing but a mere afterthought. But if used correctly…she can be quite powerful." The man continued in a cold voice, "A kidnapping...one more murder...my faithful servant at Hogwarts...Harry Potter is as good as mine, Wormtail. It is decided. There will be no more argument. But quiet...I think I hear Nagini..."
There was a brief pause in the conversation until the same cold voice spoke again, "Nagini has interesting news, Wormtail."
"In-indeed, My Lord?" questioned Wormtail.
"Indeed, yes," said the voice, "According to Nagini, there is an old Muggle standing right outside this room, listening to every word we say."
Frank didn't have a chance to hide himself. There were footsteps and then the door of the room was flung wide open.
A mixture of fear and alarm was clear on the Muggle's face.
"Invite him inside, Wormtail. Where are your manners?"
At 4 Privet Drive, Harry Potter woke up in a cold sweat with a pounding heart. The dream felt too real. The voice of Voldemort too clear, Wormtail's stuttering too accurate, the poor Muggle Frank's fear too real and raw.
But who was the girl? And what were they going to do to her?
There had been nothing but darkness.
The darkness had lasted for a very long time. Grace had no understanding of how long she had been…wherever she was.
She appeared to be in a small room of sorts; about half the size of her bedroom if her estimation was accurate. It had no furniture, the floor was concrete and she couldn't find the ceiling for the life of her.
Her last memory was on the cliff with Barty. And then…there was just darkness. She was amazed her heart could beat so fast for such a long time.
Her bones hurt. Her eyes were heavy. Her mouth had become so dry that she didn't even notice her thirst anymore. Her stomach had stopped growling a while ago.
When she first awoke, Grace thought she was dead and was obviously damned because what sort of afterlife was this? But then came the theory she was blind.
Had it been hours? Days? Weeks?
Would she ever return home?
Would her heart stop beating so fast? Or stop beating at all?
What had she done to deserve this?
Grace had begun to hyperventilate again. This would be the eighth time.
She was still breathing through it when finally there was a light from way above.
Was this it? Was it death?
It wasn't death. But it was Barty. And he was smiling.
She was hit with an indescribable rage so raw and fierce her body started to physically shake. Grace wanted to hurt him. How dare he.
But despite the raw rage, a sob broke free. A desperate sob followed by a desperate plea, "Please…please…let me go. Please. I won't tell anyone, just let me out. Please."
The bastard laughed and Grace cried harder.
The light began to hurt her eyes. It was too strong, too much too soon.
She leaned forward on her knees and stared down at the concrete floor. It was grey. She didn't realize that before.
She couldn't look at Barty. She was sure she would vomit.
"Oh little girl, I'm going to have fun with you."
He was laughing again and she could feel helplessness clawing at her.
"Where-where am I? Where did you take me?"
"Look at me when you're speaking to me." He commanded, his voice slow but domineering.
Grace clenched her jaw forcefully and she stared stubbornly at the floor. She inhaled and exhaled deeply several times before she finally moved her head up to stare at him. Green eyes clashed with brown with more ferocity than Grace had at the moment; if she was going to look at him she would not be a mewling little kitten.
She was better than that even if she felt herself die a little bit by the malicious, unhinged smile on his face.
"There's a good girl." Barty practically purred and Grace felt bile rise once again at the tone, "Don't worry love, you'll have company soon enough."
While there was no indication of time, it had felt to Grace that at least several days had passed since Barty's last visit.
Some changes had occurred. A glass of water now magically appeared ever so often. She now had a toilet in the corner.
But the most startling change was how slow her mind had become…how she could hear Jess' laughter but she was sure it was in that mind of hers…how her limbs were so tired she could no longer pace or even lift her head up fully.
Maybe she was crazy. Maybe she had been right when she was a little girl and her magic began to show itself. Maybe she had concocted this entire thing – maybe even her entire life with the Harts. She was insane. That was it. Insanity. Simple, good old fashioned insanity.
Then the ceiling opened again.
Grace found the energy to stare upwards. Her eyes felt heavy.
"How's my girl?"
Sick of your dumb voice but she didn't dare say it.
"Come on now, beautiful. This isn't like you. Where is the sweetheart who talked my ear off?"
Grace gave no response.
"Answer me!" He yelled, slapping the edge of the ceiling with his hand. His voice resembled a toddler's.
"Tired." She responded finally, her weak voice on the brink of sounding petulant, "I'm tired."
"I have a present for you, Grace." She hated how he said her name. But her head became too heavy and she slouched down even further against the cold wall. She was tired. She felt herself drifting off to sleep.
But Grace was jolted into alertness when a body, wrapped in cloth, came flying down from the opening. The speed slowed when it finally came closer to the floor. And the body fell with a soft thud.
Her mind felt clear at once as if this companion had a magical effect on her. She faintly noticed the ceiling closing and Barty disappearing.
Perhaps her new companion could assist in an escape, in overcoming Barty and returning her back to the Hart's in Fortune.
For the first time in a long time she felt a small amount of hope swell in her chest. She felt she had a chance.
Grace peered over to the newly appeared human – she couldn't get a clear visual on her companion. Whoever it was appeared to be large which made the swell of hope grow larger. Maybe she could escape this hell after all.
She heard a groan and hesitantly crawled closer.
Grace could see a mass of dark grey, grizzled hair peaking out from the cloth; she gently pulled the cloth away.
What she found was a tall and broad older man in his sixties. But his face made even Grace cringe as it was littered in shocking scars and his nose was missing a rather large chunk. As she pulled the cloth away she realized the man was missing a leg. And when he awoke, she realized he was also missing an eye.
She was gifted a one eyed, one legged senior citizen.
"My hero." Grace deadpanned.
As always thank you for your support and for reading. Let me know your thoughts :)
