The Lost Witch | Fred Weasley

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

- TW: Violence and torture -

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I woke up coughing, pain shooting through my entire body.

I tried to push myself up into a sitting position, feeling the cold, stone floor beneath me. But my hands wouldn't support me. I looked up at them.

My wrists were bound together with a thick chain, going round and round.

I shuffled my body up to a sitting position and looked around at my surroundings. Stone walls, stone floor and stone ceiling surrounded me. There was a small window behind me, the only source of light in the room. It looked like I was in a medieval dungeon.

Where the hell was I?

I squeezed my eyes shut as a pounding went through my skull. I lifted my bound hands to the side of my head and when I pulled them back, they were wet, the smell of blood strong around me.

Great.

The events that had led me here started coming back to me. I don't know how long I had been here. There was light coming from the window, so it was day-time. But how many days ago, I didn't know. I was hoping it was last night. And that made the most sense since the blood on my head hasn't dried up very much yet.

I brought my bound hands up to my head, pressing the heels to my eyes to try and lessen the pounding in my skull. What I remembered was three people grabbing me. And the fourth person leering over me. Taunting me.

Bellatrix Lestrange.

I heard a loud bang above me somewhere. More light flooded the room revealing stairs coming down to my level. Probably a door opening and letting in more light. I heard someone come down the stairs.

I looked up into the face of Fenrir Greyback.

He sneered down at me and unlocked the barred door that was separating us. He lifted his wand, and the end of my chain flew into his hand. He tugged on it harshly and made me come forwards.

As he stood over me, looking at me as if I was his next meal, I felt true fear deep in my bones. I know what he's capable of. I know if he wanted to, right now, he could make me a werewolf for the rest of my life. I also knew he could just as easily kill right here, right now.

He licked his lips as I glared up at his face, contemplating my options here. I had none.

He pulled on the chain again, forcing me closer. Just as I came to stand in front of him, he wrapped a hand around my neck, his claws grazing my skin.

"Pretty little thing, aren't you?" he grinned, no happiness in his smile. I locked my jaw to keep myself from saying the wrong thing. His grip tightened on my throat, and he started to lift me upwards slowly, making it harder to breath with every passing moment.

He bent his face down to mine and I felt myself flinch as I held my breath. DO SOMETHING! I told myself, but I couldn't move.

"Fenrir! BRING HER UP HERE!" A shrill voice called from behind him up the stairs. He let out a growl but released me, dragging me up the stairs by the chain, my feet barely keeping me standing.

We reached a large empty room, nothing to make it recognizable. But I knew where I was immediately.

Malfoy Manor.

As we entered, I recognized Augustus Rookwood, Rodolphus Lestrange and then, Bellatrix Lestrange.

"Well, well, well. Has our guest had a nice little nap?" Bellatrix mocked me, licking her thin lips. The others chuckled at her words.