Dancing With Our Hands Tied: Remus Lupin x Y/N (BOOK 3)

Power Over Me

"Call and I'll Rush out"

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TW for this chapter. Please be aware that this chapter includes graphic information about torture. Derogatory language and insults, blood, cutting and discussions of sexual assault involved. Reader discretion is strongly advised.

If you do not wish to read this, please skip the chapter until you get to the five dashes- the chapter will return to normal after that, and there is a summary of events at the bottom.

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"Now then princess. Are you going to give up the location of the boy this time?"

Y/N had spent the last twenty four hours in a constant cycle of torture and pain. When she wasn't being cut, burned, or otherwise put in pain, she was having derogatory insults hurled at her over and over, being forced to repeat them constantly through her small hoarse voice. When Amycus relented, for those few hours he decided he needed sleep or to eat, he would spell the ropes that bound her so they were constantly growing tighter and tighter, threatening to cut off her circulation, to put an end to this misery once and for all, but they never quite got to that point, relenting and loosening slightly- just enough to ease the pressure on her wrists and ankles- before tightening again. 

But his twisted mind had decided that this could be an opportunity for him. If he could just get the location of the Potter boy, he would be held up as a hero. He would be The Dark Lord's Right Hand Man. He would be great. 

And Y/N was the ticket to that. 

He had initially just planned on exacting revenge for the fate she had sealed for his brother, commonly known to the public as The Hawk. But now, now he had true purpose for her. She was invaluable to him and his path to glory. Plus it was pretty fun exacting his every thought, his every move on her, watching her reactions, hearing the way her throat croaked, dry and bleeding from her screams. He enjoyed seeing the way she choked on her own blood before she begged him, pleaded with him to stop. 

"All you have to do, is tell me where the boy is. Then I'll stop." He said, his hands up, palms facing her in false surrender. 

"I don't know." She whispered, unable to conjure a voice stronger. 

"Nope, wrong answer sweetheart."

His knife was once more plunged into her thigh, now spelled so that it quaterised its own wounds. His genius astounded even him. He could now stab you, and watch as you felt the burning of your own flesh, could revel in the way her head thrashed as much as it could with her low energy, trying to escape the smell that was burnt skin. Her burnt skin. 

Y/N had decided to give up. Nothing she could do would help. She had no idea where Harry was, no idea what he was even doing, so even if she had wanted to she couldn't tell him anything. She was too tired to think of a spell, she didn't have enough energy to summon the power for wordless, wandless magic anyway. She allowed her eyes to close, feeling the pain he continued to inflict, flinching, but not opening her eyes. She allowed instinct to take control. She reacted to the pain physically, obviously, but mentally she took herself far away. 

She summoned his face in her imagination, the one face she wanted. The one face she needed. She could hear his voice as he called out to her, echoey in the chamber of her mind. 

"Y/N Where are you! Please, just tell me, I'll come get you!"

"I don't know." In her head, her voice was back, weak and shaky, but more than a whisper. Her need to talk to him outweighed any reality of the situation.