Snakes and Ladders (Fem!HPxLM) (DISCONTINUED)

Epicaricacy

Slight trigger warning for graphic descriptions of torture and death. Read at your own risk

Lucius hadn't been lying when he said the dungeons were unpleasant. They were dark and cold, the only light being cast from sconces between each tiny cell; the sconces cast a sickly green hue. A strange metallic damp smell invaded the nose, the floors were slick with dampness, and Hyacinth would've slipped had Lucius not been holding onto her arm.

All of the cells were empty, but the place was like a maze, there must've been hundreds of cells, and Hyacinth felt discomfort creeping up in her chest.

"Why does the dungeon even exist? Correct me if I'm wrong, but you don't strike me as the type who would want a dungeon." She asked, attempting to quell the discomfort she was feeling. Lucius chuckled beside her, deep and rumbly, like thunder.

"No, you're correct. This place has been here far longer than I have been alive. When Grindelwald was rising in power, my great-grandfather, Armand, was one of his followers. The Manor doubled as one of Grindelwald's many bases, so the dungeons were built about 15 years after the manor was built." He explained, jaw clenching at the thought of his great-grandfather.

Armand was not a kind man to his father, nor was he kind to Lucius when he was a mere toddler. The man died shortly before Lucius turned 4, already in bad health when he was born. But Armand was the root cause of most of Abraxas' abuse towards Lucius. It would take a miracle for Lucius to find it in himself to forgive the two men.

Finally, they found the man who had attacked Hyacinth in the last cell. He was chained upright, his arms raised above his head and chained to the ceiling, his feet connected to short chains on hoops on the floor. He had been rendered unconscious, and Hyacinth took the time to look him over.

It was not a pretty sight, to say the least, but Hyacinth couldn't find it within herself to feel anything but hate towards him. He had been stripped naked and whipped all over, the tell-tale striped welts marking his body, some partially healed, others still bleeding.

He no longer had any hair on his head. However, his head hadn't been shaved free of hair but had instead been burnt off. Where there once had been dark, cropped hair, there was now patchy raw burnt skin, bright red with large, yellow pus-filled blisters.

She noticed that a strip of skin had been precisely cut from the top of one of his feet. A perfect square shape of flesh was now missing, revealing the inner working of his foot, the fatty tissue, veins and bone underneath. He had been forced to eat it if the drying puddle of vomit was anything to go by. A gross mix of stomach acid, partially chewed slimy flesh, and sticky blood congealed on the floor near his feet.

Hyacinth spied a bucket of water in the corner of the cell, so she pushed the barred door open and tested the temperature of the water with a finger. Ice cold. Perfect. She picked it up and threw the contents over the man that attacked her. He awoke with a scream as the freezing water hit his ruined body.

He blinked the water stinging his eyes away, and froze in fear when he saw Hyacinth walk around him to stand in front of him.

"What is it?" She asked sarcastically, "You look like you've seen a ghost", she quipped nastily, a sneer that matched her mother's, marring her pretty features. She walked over to the wooden table on the far end of the cell, littered with fierce-looking tools and weapons.

Her hand ghosted above the table, the tips of her fingers grazing the handle of a straight blade, the word 'Death' engraved on the blade. She smirked to herself. 'Soon', she thought.

She had questions first, so instead, she picked up a mace and chain, testing the weight of it in her hand by swinging the chain slightly.

"Now, Mr Mayweather, if that is your name, you're going to answer my questions, and if you're good and answer them truthfully, then you won't get and the mace and chain to the back. If you don't or I find you to be lying to me, I will practice my swing. Now trust me, I'm sure you don't want that. I used to play Quidditch. I was Gryffindor's youngest seeker, after all. Do we have an agreement?" She asked, voice void of emotion as she continued to swing the chain slightly, the metal clank hitting metal echoing in the cell.

The man shuddered at the sound before nodding silently, hot tears stinging the backs of his eyes. Hyacinth smiled. "Good", she said, "who sent you?"

The man took his time to answer, and Hyacinth was preparing to send the mace barrelling into his back when he croaked out an answer.

"Dumbledore, it was Dumbledore" His voice was dry and croaky from dehydration and screaming. Hyacinth hummed, going back to slowly swinging the chain.

"That was a bit of a dumb question, I suppose," she said, amusement in her voice, "I guessed that the moment you pulled your wand on me, but it's nice to be proven right." She swung the mace and chain far behind her before bringing it down onto his back, the spikes of the mace digging deeply into his skin, blood streaming down from the wounds.

He screamed something horrible, and she scrunched her nose up in annoyance. "Sorry, I lied. Except I'm not really all that sorry. Do you realise what your little spell did to me? Go on, take a guess," she whispered, moving in close so her lips grazed his ear as she spoke.

The man stuttered, weeping and sobbing as his wounds bled heavily.

"Cat got your tongue?" She asked, pulling back from the man, moving towards the table, and finding a large kitchen knife. She gripped the handle tightly, her index finger placed on the sharp tip of the knife as she twisted it, watching the dim light glint off the blade with rapt attention. A small bead of blood gathered on her finger.

"You took from me the one thing that mattered to me. Tell me. Do you have a family? Children?" She asked, turning back to the chained-up man. His head had dropped downwards, struggling to hold its weight, but he nodded, half-conscious. "You took the chance of me having my own family away from me. So I'm going to take you from your family. That sounds like a good exchange for me. My family for yours."

As she finished her sentence, she drew her arm back, plunged the knife deep into his stomach, and twisted harshly. He choked, gurgling up blood. He brought grey, pleading eyes to meet hers before they glossed over, and he breathed his last breath. Hyacinth wiped a spot of blood from her cheek before turning her back on her now-dead attacker and returning to Lucius' side.

He looped her arm with his own, and together they made their way out of the dungeon.