Pain radiated through every inch of her body, the kind that stole breath, made the world blur at the edges and colors darken into shadows. Sera gritted her teeth, refusing to let out so much as a whimper, even as her wrists chafed raw against the ropes binding her to the wooden chair. The air in the dungeon was thick with the scent of damp stone, mold, and a metallic tang that suggested old blood. Somewhere above, she could hear the faint drip of water, its rhythm cruelly mocking in its monotony.
Sera forced herself to observe, to analyze, to think past the haze of agony and fear. Her survival depended on more than endurance—it required precision, cleverness, and a refusal to break, even when the world around her felt designed to crush her spirit.
The room was dimly lit by flickering torches, casting erratic shadows that danced over the faces of her captors. A group of young witches and wizards, their eyes alight with a zealous hunger that chilled her to the bone, surrounded her. The Carrows', Avery, Travers… she realized grimly. All were dressed in traditional robes that bore the sigils of old, pure-blooded families.
Barton Carrow, with his perpetually sneering lips and cold blue eyes, stepped closer. His wand was pointed at her chest, the tip glowing with a sickly green light. "It's a shame," he drawled, his voice a mockery of politeness. "Someone with your lineage should have been great. Instead, here you are—nothing but a Squib, an embarrassment to our world."
Sera's heart raced, but she forced her chin up, a defiant spark in her dark eyes. "You sound just like every washed-up Death Eater clinging to outdated drivel," she spat. "Jealous that a world that moved on without you doesn't need you anymore."
Barton's eyes narrowed, and his expression twisted with anger. He flicked his wand, and a fresh wave of pain coursed through her. Sera gasped, stars bursting behind her eyes, but she refused to scream. She wouldn't give them the satisfaction. She had lived a life knowing she was lesser in the eyes of people like this. She had weathered the storm of rejection and prejudice.
Somewhere in her fractured mind, a memory surfaced—her parents' hushed whispers, the way they had loved her but never quite understood. The way the magical world had barely tolerated her, a squib. Her independence had been her shield, her determination a fortress. But even the strongest walls cracked under enough pressure.
Sera clenched her fists, the rope digging deeper into her skin. She would not be broken. Yet, despite herself, fear pooled in her gut, and the urge to cry for help rose, unbidden and unwanted. She hated feeling vulnerable, hated knowing that despite everything, she was still at the mercy of people who despised her for something she couldn't change.
She caught her breath, focusing on every detail she could commit to memory: the wands they carried, the way Barton's left knee twisted inward slightly when he moved, the placement of the torches, and the rhythm of their breathing. She would use every piece of information she had, every bit of her cunning, to survive this. But the truth lay heavy in her heart—this was one of the most desperate situations she had ever been in, and she could only hope that the people she cared about most would find her in time.
Barton's voice broke through her concentration. "You think you're strong?" he mocked, leaning in so close she could see the cruel amusement in his eyes. "Let's see how long that lasts."
Sera swallowed hard, her throat dry and aching. "You'll have to do better than this," she managed, her voice cracking but holding. "Because I've spent my whole life proving people like you wrong."
The room filled with laughter, the sound echoing coldly against the stone walls. But even as they mocked her, Sera refused to let her hope die. She had faced a world that never truly accepted her and carved out a place in it anyway. She was fierce, she was clever, and she was determined to live, no matter what they threw at her. And somewhere, in the depths of her heart, she prayed that Theo was coming, that he wouldn't stop until he found her.