𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘦 ; 𝒹.𝒽

forty-three

Zoya jolted awake two days later in a small room on a twin bed, her ankle chained to it. The room was dimly lit with only one small lamp and no windows in the room to let light in.

The door slowly opened, revealing Narcissa. She shut the door behind her quickly, "How are you feeling?"

"Why the fuck do you care?" Zoya bitterly asked.

Narcissa stood at the end of the bed, fiddling with her hands, "Zoya, you're better off just telling him what he wants to know. You might have a chance to live if you do so."

"So he's planning to kill me? Good to know, now I really won't be saying anything."

"Zoya, please."

"I'll ask you again, why the fuck do you care?" Zoya asked, slowly sitting up in her bed.

Before Narcissa could say more, Lucius walked in, looking distressed.

"It's time," he quietly said.

Narcissa sighed as more Death Eaters walked in, unchaining Zoya and standing her up. They walked her downstairs, and back to the meeting room where she was prior. She was tied back up, hovering over the table once again.

Voldemort walked in, "This is familiar," Zoya commented, "But I think it'll be difficult for me to speak upside down. Blood rushes to the head, you know. Not that you took any science classes–"

"Shut up!" he yelled.

"You're not upside down, you're horizontal," a Death Eater commented.

Zoya craned her neck to him, "Good point."

"Crucio!"

Zoya screamed out in pain as Voldemort hit her with crucio. He ended it after a few seconds, "If you tell me everything you know, Miss Kien, all will be over soon."

"I suppose we have a long road to go down then, Tom."

Weeks passed of Zoya being tortured. Weeks of her screams echoing through the manor, weeks of Narcissa pleading her to say something just so her suffering could end.

When Zoya wasn't being interrogated, she was chained to a bed with a Death Eater in the room keeping an eye on her.

One one December afternoon, Zoya's mind was so long gone that she found herself speaking nonsense. She couldn't make out what she was saying, or why she was saying it. But she knew certain of one thing: she couldn't put her friends be in danger.

"A-America..."

"What was that?" Voldemort questioned.

"They- they went to America, they couldn't find any Horcruxes here, so they figured–"

"Why are you here then?" Bellatrix asked.

"I cowered out. I got sick of running– I–"

"That's enough," Voldemort said before lowering his face to hers, "If you're lying to us, you'll be begging me to kill you."

And a week later, Zoya was tempted to plead for death. Voldemort stormed into her room and used Crucio on her for the longest time yet. Afterwards, he had Fenrir drag her down to a dungeon on the very last level of the house.

She felt claws swipe across her right jaw and again on her left calf before she was shoved to the ground. She breathed heavily as she felt the cursed scratch marks burn into her skin. She watched Fenrir lick his claws, "Count yourself lucky the Dark Lord hasn't allowed me to take a bite out of you," he spat before slamming the door shut, leaving her in darkness.

From above, Lavinia was drinking yet another potion Snape made her in attempts to bring back what was left of her mind.

"They're going to kill her, Severus," Lavinia weakly said, "Her mind is long gone."

"We cannot do anything, Lavinia."

She scrunched her face up at the pain she felt in her mind, "I– things are coming back. I just don't know what's what. Everything is jumbled, I– Cairo."

His face lightened up slightly, "Cairo?"

"I killed them. I killed House of Cairo. I was angry because they hexed me when they tried to leave the Death Eaters and I wanted to stop them but... it wasn't my mind," she quietly said.

"How do you mean?"

She shook her head, "I do not know. I'm sorry, I don't know. I don't know..."

"It's all right, Lavinia. Lie down and rest."

She did as he said, lying down on the sofa in the room they were in. She stared up at the ceiling, "They'll kill her, Severus," she whispered before her eyes closed.