[Completed] Anne's malady is a curse, is it not? The newest Ravenclaw is not so sure. When all else fails, her Muggle upbringing provides a yet unexplored pathway. After all, the simplest explanation, however improbable, must be correct.
If only it...
For one blissful moment, she doesn't remember what happened. What brought her here and why.
Anna jerks upright, sitting up on the cold flagstones that seem to be leeching away all heat from her body.
Her naked body. Her hands shoot up to cover herself. Where the hell are her clothes?!
"Already awake, little bird?"
She spins with a gasp. Orceus Gaunt sits cross-legged in an armchair, a lit pipe in his long, burnt and scarred fingers spreading the pungent smell of smouldering Mallowsweet.
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"Where am I?" Her voice is hoarse, her body stiff from lying on the hard floor. Her captor chuckles.
"Does it matter? You won't be leaving."
The matter-of-fact way he said those words sent a chill down her spine.
"Why haven't you killed me yet, then?"
He smiles. He looks reminiscent of his brother when he smiles, but there is no gentleness to his features, instead cruelly etched in every line. The scars on his face also serve to remind her even in the low light of some cavernous dungeon he brought her to - it isn't Ominis sitting before her.
"I like to play with my food, you see... and it would be no fun if you couldn't scream and beg as you died."
Bastard.
She looks over to the side where a mostly empty table sits. It looks sturdy and heavy. If she can use her ancient magic to pull and smash him with it...
Her arm moves in a familiar swing.
But nothing happens. Anna looks down at her hand, dread slowly rising in her stomach in an icy tide.
"Ah, yes. No wandless magic for you. No magic at all, actually..." he taps his neck with a smirk, "do you like your gift, little bird?"
She did notice something resting against her skin but paid it little heed. But her fingers come up to find a necklace - a thick filigree choker is snaking tightly around her throat. She reaches back but there is no clasp holding it closed. She has no idea how it even ended up around her neck or what even serves as a locking mechanism for it.
"Silence is Golden," the man drawls lazily, his bloodshot eyes slightly unfocused from the Mallowsweet, "you should be honoured. Family lore says an ancestor of mine created it in the sixteenth century. A witch refused to marry him, you see, and there was no way to keep her confined, not with her magic being a threat... so he created this little item."
He smirks as Anna sits absolutely still, watching his every move, her mind racing for something, anything she can do.
"That way he could still have his pure offspring but not have a rebellious wife trying to Bombarda the manor asunder," he takes a draw of the pungent herb, "an innocent piece of jewellery, that. She had to wear it for the rest of her life... and so will you, though yours will be considerably shorter."
