American Royalty II

Part 5: The Start of a Plan

Kit was really getting bored. 

She had been stuck in the same cold dark room for an entire summer. She just hoped she'd be able to do something, anything. A whole summer without being able to properly train and release her anger was driving her insane.

She hoped that Percy got what she was trying to say. She just hoped her plan wouldn't backfire, although she doubted it would. It had been roughly two months since she had been kidnapped and the death eaters hadn't succeeded in getting her to talk. 

She'd heard things, they were planning something, something big.

Kit was disrupted by her thoughts by the sound of footsteps approaching. Three Deah Eaters appeared saying nothing, pulling her to her feet and placing a sack over her head

Kit struggled against the Death Eater's grip, but it was no use. The sack over her head blocked out all light, and the sudden lurch of Apparition made her stomach turn. When they landed, the air was slightly warmer, and she could tell they were standing on a wooden floor.

She was forced onto her knees, and the sack was pulled off her head. Kit blinked against the sudden light, her eyes slowly adjusting to the new surroundings. They were in a large room with high ceilings, filled with ornate furniture and dark, foreboding decorations. The room reeked of dark magic and malevolence.

"Well, well," a cold, familiar voice drawled. "Look who we have here."

Kit's gaze snapped to the figure standing before her. Bellatrix Lestrange, her wild eyes gleaming with sadistic pleasure, approached with a twisted smile on her lips.

"Welcome to Malfoy Manor, dear," Bellatrix said, her voice dripping with mock sweetness. "I hope you find your stay... unpleasant."

There were several other people in the room excluding the Death Eaters standing behind her. Narcissa Malfoy stood to the side, her face a mask of cold indifference. Beside her was Lucius Malfoy, looking slightly uneasy, his eyes darting between Bellatrix and Kit. Draco Malfoy lingered in the background, his expression conflicted as he avoided meeting Kit's gaze.

At the far end of the room, seated in a grand chair, was Voldemort himself. His snake-like features and crimson eyes sent a chill down Kit's spine.

"Lock her up," Voldemort instructed, his voice cold and commanding.

The Death Eaters wasted no time. They roughly grabbed Kit by the arms, dragging her through the winding corridors of Malfoy Manor. The dimly lit halls echoed with the sound of their footsteps and the occasional distant murmur. Kit's mind raced, trying to come up with a plan, any plan, to escape or at least get a message to her friends.

Finally, they reached a heavy wooden door. One of the Death Eaters unlocked it with a rusty key, and they shoved Kit inside. She stumbled, barely catching herself before falling. The door slammed shut behind her with a resounding thud, and she heard the key turn in the lock.

The cell was small and dank, with stone walls and a dirt floor. A single, narrow window high up on one wall let in a sliver of moonlight, casting eerie shadows across the room. Kit sank to the ground, feeling the cold seeping through her clothes.

Time passed slowly. Kit had no way of knowing how long she had been there when she heard the sound of the door creaking open again. She looked up, expecting to see another Death Eater, but was surprised to see Draco Malfoy standing there, his face pale and tense.

"Draco," Kit said, her voice a mix of surprise and suspicion. "What are you doing here?"

Draco stepped inside, closing the door softly behind him. He glanced around nervously before speaking. "I brought you some food," he said, handing her a small bundle wrapped in cloth.

Kit took it, unwrapping it to reveal a piece of bread, berries and some cheese. She looked up at Draco, her eyes narrowing as she saw the pain in his face.

"What's wrong?" she asked, slowly taking a bite of the cheese.

Draco sat down beside her, sighing and rubbing a hand over his face. "I—" Draco hesitated.

"Tell me, don't tell me, either way, I'm still stuck here," Kit pointed out, holding up her hands which had now been bound in chains.

Draco rolled up his sleeve, revealing the Dark Mark burned into his forearm. The sight made Kit's stomach churn, but she forced herself to look at it calmly.

"It's... it's not what I wanted," Draco said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't have a choice. My family... my parents... they're counting on me to... to do things I don't want to do."

Kit swallowed her anger, focusing on the boy in front of her. "Draco, you don't have to follow their path. You can choose your own way." 

 Draco shook his head, a bitter smile on his lips. "It's not that simple. But maybe... maybe I can help you." 

 "Look Draco I appreciate it, but I'm not trying to break out, not yet at least," Kit said taking a bite of the bread

Draco leaned forward, his expression earnest despite the bitterness lingering in his eyes. "I know you're not trying to break out, Kit. But that doesn't mean I can't help you in other ways. I owe you that much."

Kit studied him for a moment, chewing thoughtfully on her bread. The cold stone walls of their shared cell seemed to press in on them, a constant reminder of their confinement. "What do you mean, help me?"

Draco hesitated, glancing around to ensure no one was within earshot before leaning in closer. "I have ways of getting things. Information, favors. If there's anything you need, anything at all..."

"Thanks," Kit said, taking a bite of a strawberry from the small bundle Draco had brought her. She savored the taste, a rare moment of comfort in her bleak situation.

"Draco," a voice called from upstairs.

"I better go," Draco said, standing up quickly, his anxiety palpable.

"Be careful," Kit said as Draco reached the door.

"You too," he replied, his voice soft but earnest. Then he was gone, and Kit was left in the silence of her own thoughts again.

They may think they have the upper hand, but they were playing right into her hands. Sure, being tortured wasn't exactly great, but she had suffered far worse. They hadn't had a word out of her all summer, and she intended to keep it that way.

Kit paced the small confines of her cell, her mind working over every detail she had observed. The Death Eaters were arrogant, convinced that their methods would break her eventually. But Kit had endured pain and loss beyond their comprehension. She knew how to resist, how to turn suffering into strength.

They had made a grave mistake in underestimating her. Kit knew that her strength lay not just in her physical abilities, but in her resilience and cunning. She would use every second of her captivity to her advantage, turning their attempts to break her into opportunities to discover what they were planning

As she sat back down, Kit allowed herself a moment of satisfaction. They thought they were breaking her, but every day she grew stronger, more determined. The time would come when she would turn the tables, and they would realize too late that they had been the ones played all along.

She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath, and let her thoughts focus on the faces of her friends, her family. They were her anchor, her reason to keep fighting. She would get through this, and when she did, she would make sure that those who had taken her paid dearly for their mistake.