Hello lovelies! Happy FTT Friday.
The world has kind of gone crazy right? Please stay safe x
This chapter has been coming for a long time, and it is not nice, neither is the next one. I don't want to give specific warnings less I ruin it, but just know it is not a good chapter. I will say no non-con or anything like that though. I think I subconsciously didn't want to write this chapter and that gave me a bit of trouble. I split this chapter in half for my sanity lol. I am sorry.
Again, warning, not nice chapter.
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Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling, and only the storyline and any OC's belong to me.
The world was streaky. Hermione's eyes were open, she knew they were, but everything was dim. It was as if a thin, smudged layer of film had been laid over her retinas. Soft light trickled in through the crack in the dark, heavy curtains on the far side of the room; Hermione watched dust dance.
The Death Eaters had grown desperate. They had strict instructions. Which led to them brazenly kidnapping the Potter twins in broad daylight to squeeze any information they could out of them.
Voldemort grew restless in his thirst for knowledge about the coalition Dumbledore was rumoured to be building; he had thus entrusted a chosen few to the task of determining whatever they could by any means necessary.
"Got to give it to the blood traitor, she can take a hit," an unfamiliar voice said.
The world readjusted on its axis and Hermione's gaze found Draco. He was lying down a few feet away, facing her, hair covering his eyes. His pale blue button down was ripped and stained a rusty colour from where his broken nose had spurted blood everywhere.
Pressure built on her thigh, and pain cannonballed through her body, but she refused to let them know that, so she swallowed the scream scratching at her raw throat. One of the Death Eater's feet was pressing down on her open wound. A cold sweat formed along her hairline, and she dug her fingernails into her palms.
"F-Fuck off," Hermione snarled, head raised to look at her assailant. A low chuckle built behind the masked face.
"Your classmate is quite feisty isn't she?" The unfamiliar voice spoke once more, moving into Hermione's field of vision. She focused on the cloaked figure. A trickle of sweat ran down the side of her face.
"Classmate?" Draco's voice came, it was gravelly and weak. Relief pumped through her veins that he was coherent enough to speak.
"From one twin to another. I think it is my duty to inform you that you are thoroughly fucked." Hermione knew that voice, her head turned back to the figure looming over her. They increased the pressure on her leg and she growled harshly in response.
"Shame she is on the other side, she would have been a formidable ally." The cloaked figure threw back their hood, and with a wave of their wand, their mask vanished in a swirl of smoke.
The wizard reminded her of someone. Hermione blinked a few times, processing his height, his electric blue eyes, his dark, luscious curls. The man was attractive despite his angular, too pointy face.
The gears turned and turned. He looks like…Theodore…Nott, Hermione thought, mulling the man's likeness over in her mind.
"Shame…" Theodus Nott ruminated over the word, rolling it over his tongue as he glanced between the pair of them. "I thought the Dark Lord instructed you on keeping the carnage to a minimum."
Theodus pointedly looked at the masked figure pressing the heel of their boot into Hermione's oozing, red-black wound. Fresh crimson blood was trickling past what appeared to be a semi-cauterised wound; it dripped on the light hardwood floor.
How nice of someone, Hermione thought wryly.
"We did, you can still tell who they are," Alecto Carrow said as she removed her mask, smiling sinisterly down at Hermione. She cocked her head to the side and examined the witch as if she was a specimen she was conducting an experiment on; sick fascination swirled in her dark, beady eyes.
The Carrow twins and Mulciber hadn't returned to finish their NEWTs in September, and Hermione had known why. It meant they had been indoctrinated into Voldemort's order. From the misery that followed Severus, she assumed he and others had also joined, but were smart enough not to broadcast that fact and maintain the ruse by returning to Hogwarts.
"I doubt they know much, but it would be useful to question them nonetheless," Theodus stated, stroking his chin as he glanced between the pair of hostages.
Theodus's suggestion appeared to delight Alecto as her face stretched into a thin, razor sharp smile
"Cissa! This way!" A voice called shrilly. Hermione's heart dropped through her stomach. The faint echoes of crisp footsteps approached the small room they were in.
The dark wallpaper was decorated with an ornate, white, gothic pattern. A few plush, ivory green armchairs—squished together—occupied the far corner; Theodus strode over and unceremoniously sat in the furthermost left one.
Otherwise, there weren't any distinguishing elements to the room. There were a couple slender windows—covered by thick, suffocating curtains—and the light that peekd through was meagre, unsatisfactory at best.
Theodus crossed one leg over the other, and his left hand came to rest on top of his knee. The wizard tapped against his knee cap in an uneven rhythm, his electric eyes absorbing the scene laid out before him.
The footsteps neared, and with them came a foreboding sense of finality.
The footsteps halted outside the only exit to the room—a single-leaf, unassuming oak door with little craftsmanship. (Which was strange for a Manor of such grandeur. Hermione was almost positive of their location now, the familiar magic in her surroundings indicated their whereabouts.)
"Took them long enough," Theodus muttered to himself, his attention now on the exit.
The door creaked open, and a pair of witches entered: they were the embodiments of light and darkness. Narcissa Malfoy was dressed in pastel blue, flowing robes with several see-through layers on top of a satin slip that brushed against her curves on the way down, the Queen Anne neckline elongated her neck. Akin to an ethereal entity she floated into the room. Her long, pale hair was pulled back into a high ponytail that swished down her back as she moved.
Bellatrix Black was a creature of the night: her black robes were tight, clung to her curves, there were lace sections that exposed her pale skin, and the v-neckline cut deeply from her collarbones, across the tops of her breast and ended in a small point by her bellybutton. Bellatrix's feet were bare and she barely made a sound as she crossed the room towards them. Bellatrix's dark curls bounced as she crept forward, an explosion surrounding her person, trailing down to the small of her back. A series of emeralds adorned her neck and fingers, glittering in the dim light.
Narcissa's expression was solemn and unreadable, until she noticed Hermione and Draco on the floor. Hermione met the witch's gaze and she saw the fear pulsating through them; fear for them. Her facial expression however, was as smooth as marble. Narcissa anxiously fiddled with her wedding ring.
"The Potter twins…you're Sirius's little friends," Bellatrix said softly. Her head twitched sharply in Hermione's direction and she hissed, "and you're the bitch that stunned me at Cissa's wedding."
"Bella, let's not be vindictive," Narcissa said breathily, hugging her arms to herself. Bellatrix snarled in response, peering at her younger sister, "where is the fun in that?"
"Just in time ladies, we were just going to try and extract some information out of the pair whilst we wait for their Father to come get them," Theodus cleared his throat, bringing the collective attention to him.
Dad? What do they want with Dad? Hermione thought fearfully, her heart beating in her ears.
"Really? How delightful," Bellatrix said giddily, approaching Hermione. She squatted beside Hermione's head, examining her gleefully. Bellatrix reached out, the tip of her index finger running lightly across Hermione's cheek. Hermione suppressed a shiver, pressing her lips together.
Hermione's surroundings were bringing back vile memories, and her limbs were frozen in terror. She mentally attempted to push past it, but it was getting harder and harder by the moment, especially as Bellatrix's hot breath washed over her face; it was spicy yet minty.
Theodus dismissed the other Death Eaters including Alecto; the witch looked distraught that she wouldn't be able to enjoy the show.
"What could they possibly know, Theodus?" Narcissa asked with a snide curl of her lip. "This is a waste of valuable time."
"Well I'm sure you can let the Dark Lord know that," Theodus said offhandedly.
Narcissa sneered, "I'm sure he has far more important affairs occupying his time."
"Precisely why he bequeathed this task to me." Theodus smiled tightly; he gestured at them in a blasé fashion. "They may not know anything, but we can't run the risk of not finding out, wouldn't you agree?"
Narcissa narrowed her eyes, but did not speak further.
Theodus addressed the room, hands held out, palms facing upwards. "Any volunteers?"
Bellatrix's grin stretched impossibly thin, and Hermione focused on breathing in and out slowly. She'd endured it once before, she'd survived, she could do it again.
Draco's voice rang clear and pristine around the room, "sure, bring it the fuck on, you old codger."
No. Draco, what are you doing? Hermione wailed to herself. Her air was stolen from her.
Theodus's head snapped in Draco's direction. Draco had rolled over onto his back, and was propping himself up on his elbow, his chest rose and fell sharply, and dry blood caked his face.
"You've got a mouth on you. Pity your parents didn't raise you with more respect for your elders. I thought better of Dorea."
The use of their Mother's name touched a nerve for Draco, Hermione could tell from the twitch of his brow.
"No, she taught me that I should only respect those who have earned it," Draco said arrogantly, smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. "You haven't."
"Narcissa," Theodus said icily. The witch flinched at the cold tone thrust her way.
"What, Theodus?"
"Lucius once mentioned you were fond of the Potter boy, and you insisted that he and his family attend your wedding," Theodus smiled warmly, his eyes crinkling with amusement.
"That was years ago," Narcissa said quietly, averting her gaze, but in the process locked eyes with Hermione. Unspoken understanding passed from witch-to-witch.
"That so? Prove it."
"I beg your pardon?"
"Prove where your allegiances lie, Narcissa Black," Theodus emphasised her maiden name with vitriol. He jumped up from his chair with mighty grace, like a fierce tiger and he closed in on Narcissa; he towered over her, a thunderous aura encompassing him.
To her credit, Narcissa did not shrink back like a powerless damsel. She squared her shoulders, and evenly met his gaze. Bellatrix stiffened beside Hermione—tension hardened the witch's limbs—and her hand slipped into Hermione's curls and she painfully gripped a handful.
"Or we shall see how Lucius fares before the Dark Lord when told of your failure to question a blood traitor," Theodus said mockingly, his index finger gliding along her jaw.
"You can't take me on yourself, big boy? Need a pretty lady to do your dirty work?" Draco asked, and Hermione wanted to tell him to stop talking, but her mouth was thickly padded with cotton and sewn shut.
"That is enough out of your tiresome mouth!" Theodus roared, spinning to face Draco.
"Cissa!" Bellatrix yelled, her voice piercing the room in half.
Theodus whirled his head back to Narcissa, "either you get the information we need, or I kill him and tell the Dark Lord that it was a tragic accident."
Narcissa's eyes widened, "what?"
"Kill me? You haven't got bollocks large enough for that."
Hermione truly wished Draco would stop talking. It was as if his entire sense of self-preservation had fled. Perhaps he's concussed, Hermione concluded.
"You heard me. We only need one of them to survive."
The pair argued until Theodus drew his wand, his threats vociferous, cruel and real. Narcissa finally relented, her voice steady but barely there as she stepped forward.
The world was streaky, a blur, as Theodus screamed his demands and as Narcissa withdrew her wand. Bellatrix's grip on her faded away, all the pain subsided, only to be replaced by fear.
Hermione found her voice and screamed her throat raw as crucio after crucio was thrust at Draco. It was harrowing. The gruesome pain wracking through Draco's body straightened him stiff, and his body convulsed violently.
Theodus knelt beside Draco's head, and during the brief respites he would ask questions, and Draco would laugh and tell him to sod off. Theodus would make a gesture and Narcissa would continue. The witch had pulled an emotionless expression down across her features, like a blank sheet of paper.
When Draco's eyes rolled back in his head, Hermione fought against Bellatrix's hold, headbutting her and trying to break free; she definitely lost some hair in the process. Bellatrix's fist pummelled into Hermione's nose in response, an acute snap rang in her ears, and warmth rushed down her face. Hermione spat the blood in Bellatrix's face.
"Little slag," Bellatrix growled.
The torture continued. "We don't know anything about Dumbledore and his FUCKING SCHEMING!" Hermione shrieked over and over. She may as well have been shouting into the void as they paid her no mind.
"Crucio," Narcissa said coldly for what felt like the umpeenth time. Hermione can see Narcissa's fingers digging into her palm, and she sees the blood trickle down to Narcissa's knuckles.
Hermione fights and fights and fights; she is almost certain she gouged out some of Bellatrix's flesh at some point. Bellatrix must finally find her truly bothersome with all of her fuss and racket, because she blinked and a foul force slammed into her; intense red tinged her vision. Then, it was all black.
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