Liar, Liar

21: Liar, Liar

A/N: This chapter contains brief depictions of violence and some emotional turmoil.

Cold. Cold and Dark. Those were the only two words I could use to describe my surroundings.

Something grumbled in the corner of the room. I tried to ignore it.

Trailing my hands on the ground, I came to find it was rough stone. Perhaps I was in a basement? I couldn't remember a thing aside from Draco and the cabinet.

The thing groaned again.

I replayed the events in my head again. I needed the Room of Requirement again, but Draco was in there. He said he thought I'd come. Did he know Snape would blow me off like that? It's unlikely. No one knew.

My wand was gone, and my feet were shackled together and, after feeling around, I realized I was bound to a rusty post with my chains.

My hands weren't shackled, yet I could tell escape was unlikely. Perhaps Draco would come back for me, and I'd find out what this is all about.

My mark started to burn. I itched my forearm, but, unsurprisingly, it didn't stop hurting.

I was thirsty, and desperately needed to use the bathroom. Hoping Malfoy would return, but doubtful he'd help me, I started trying to undo my shackles.

"I wouldn't do that, sweetheart," a voice cackled from the corner in the room that the groaning had been coming from.

"Who said that?" I exclaimed, backing into the wall.

"Just me," it replied, chuckling. "I won't hurt you, you know. I can't even see you. I've been down here for so long, the light I saw when they brought you down here was enough to blind me."

"Where are we?" I asked. "Who is they?"

"You'll see soon enough," it muttered back. "But they'll probably leave you down here to rot for a bit. To crack you in, you know. Unless they need you soon. I think they forgot about me," it muttered back.

"Who are you? Maybe I can get you out..." I stammered. "Are you with them?"

"With who? There is no bad or good. There is only how we treat one another," it mused. "You are goodness. About to die, but offering to save my life. You are a noble one."

"What do you mean, about to die? I haven't done anything!" I panicked.

Before the creature could respond, the sound of metal on metal at the end of the room got my attention. A dull light came in through the door, and two figures stepped in, wands alight.

Draco's father and another woman with matted black hair stepped in. "There she is," the woman cackled. "Our little secret-keeper. How cute," she cackled.

"Let's bring this bitch in," Lucius Malfoy snarled. My mark burned harder. It was getting to be hard to ignore.

Malfoy and the woman grabbed both of my arms and muttered the incantation to free my legs from the shackles.

"He's going to be so happy to see you, Zelle," the woman said, but her tone wasn't genuine whatsoever. "Little Draco did so well."

"He's growing up a bit. Finally," Lucius gruffly noted.

The dragged me up the stone steps, away from my prison and the rough coldness. They dragged me until my jeans started to tear from the coarseness of the stone steps. They dragged me until my knees split open and bled onto my legs. The steps toned to hardwood and I could tell we were at the main landing of the manor. They dragged me up those stairs too, the hardness of the wood bruising my bloodied knees and my banged up claves.