Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the related characters. The Harry Potter series is created by JK Rowling. This fanfiction is intended for entertainment only. I am not making any profit from this story… As always…

PS: This chapter sort of betrayed my position as a loyal book fan, because I put in a major film element, though looking from the book's perspective it does not cause any contradiction. Also, this chapter may inflict discomfort on certain readers (I don't know whether it does but it's my responsibility to put this warning here. I couldn't really eat my lunch and supper the day I finished writing this part.)

Chapter 4

I began carving an "M" on her skin. She screamed as I turned the point of the knife to mark to vertexes of the letter. "Where did you get the sword?" I demanded, blade hovering inches above her last cut.

"I have told you!" her voice broke into hysterical sobs, "We found…"

The knife fell again on her left arm now dotted with her dirty blood. I tried my best not to touch it as I started on "u". She kicked wildly in the air, her screams now mingled with cries. I realized that I too was screaming.

"You are lying, filthy Mudblood, and I know it! You have been inside my vault at Gringotts! Tell the truth, tell the truth!"

"Please! STOP IT! I beg you…"

Seething, I dug deeper into her flesh, splattering her sleeves with blood. The letter "d" required even more turning, and with each turn, she screeched and flailed in despair.

"What else did you take? What else have you got? Tell me the truth or, I swear, I shall run you through with this knife!"

"No! Don't do it - PLEASE!"

She shook so violently that I leapt away, afraid of dirtying myself. The silver knife fell with a clatter to the floor. I pulled out my wand and directed it at her twitching figure.

"What else did you take, what else? ANSWER ME! CRUCIO!"

The Mudblood screamed again, rolling around in unendurable agony so that the carpet on which she was struggling was soon stained with her unclean blood. I watched, pitying the carpet, hating her, cursing her, but in the meantime feeling more alive, more exuberant than ever as my captive writhed at my feet… Downstairs, the continual screams of her counterpart issued from the cellar. How ingenious am I… Two people with just one wand… Two bites at the apple…

I stopped. She seemed barely conscious.

I was not disturbed.

"Rennervate," I muttered. She jerked awake, horrified as I bent down to pick up the silver knife.

"Let us move on to 'blood'," I said lazily, seizing her left arm and ignoring her renewed attempts to shake me off. As the blade brushed against her arm, resting just beside her previous wound, preparing to resume writing, she wailed in earnest.

I didn't need to ask.

"PLEASE - we found it in the woods - we haven't been to your vault - we haven't taken anything from it - I swear - I swear - PLEASE!"

I had finished "b" but did not extract the tip of the knife from her arm. Blood spurted from the cut. I was sure that I had reached the arteries.

"There is only one sword of Gryffindor," I chuckled, pressing the blade in even further so that her screams reverberated off the walls, "As you slimy, stupid Gryffindors must be aware of."

A slice symbolized the letter "l".

"Please… PLEASE STOP! I'll do anything - I'll tell you anything!"

"You are contradicting yourself, my dear Miss Mudblood," I taunted, voice rising, "And I don't like that!"

"This is the truth - I swear!" she squealed as the first "o" started to materialize under my knife.

"Only two chances left! After that, we'll return to the wizarding methods of dealing with things." I said casually, moving the blade around in the shape of a circle. Her flesh was distorted by the sharp edge of the knife. It was now hardly distinguishable from raw meat. She howled in agony.

"So how come you got the sword that was supposed to be in my vault? If you hadn't broken into it in the first place?"

"I don't know…" her sobs became a screech as I brandished the silver knife in her face, "I don't know! Please! I beg you!" This was as good as a confession.

Another "o"…

"How did you get into my vault? Did that dirty little goblin in the cellar help you?" I shouted, now embellishing the freshly cut "d".

"We only met him tonight!" she sobbed, "We've never been inside your vault… It isn't the real sword! It's a copy, just a copy!"

"A copy? Oh, a likely story!"

"But we can find out easily!" came Lucius's voice from behind, "Draco, fetch the goblin, he can tell us whether the sword is real or not!"

I turned around just in time to see Draco disappearing into the passageway that led towards the cellar. Lucius was nodding appreciatively at me. Apparently, he was enjoying himself as much as I was.

Oh, now he remembered… I am the expert… I always have been…

I returned to the work at hand. Granger was trembling as I stroked her left arm with my knife, admiring my handiwork.

How beautiful… Serve her right… I haven't been so creative since the Longbottoms…

"Do you want me to untie you?" I asked, with the merest suggestion of airiness. She didn't speak but kept on weeping.

The knife came closer to her neck. "Yes - Yes!" she whimpered as the blade touched her, "Please…"

With one sweeping movement, I severed the thick ropes tying her arms. She gave a cry of surprise, her head turned in disbelief to glance at me. I chuckled at her blank and bewildered face.

Time to bring out the big guns.

"Now, turn around and place yourself on your back."