All I Have Left

Chapter 101

long chapter that I've spent writing for months. sorry for the late update! I hope this makes up for it. I will try to be better I promise.

TW: torture, blood

I'm not given a moment to battle the nausea that comes from the sudden Apparation before I'm thrown harshly onto the ground. My knees crash against the marble floor, the sound echoing through the large, dark room.

Curtains drawn, absent of any spec of dirt, the ceiling high with numerous dangling chandeliers— I'm in the drawing room of Malfoy Manor.

I only think about this for a short moment before I turn around and lunge towards the Death Eater that had Apparated with me. My nails scratch at his thigh as I use my dagger to swipe across the bottom of his stomach. He shouts, his palm moving to span across my face and shove me backwards.

I catch myself before I can completely fall, reaching forward and stabbing his ankle just as he begins to step back. Out of shock he stumbles, and I snatch my wand from his hand and petrify him.

Getting to my feet, I barely take notice of the long ornate table in the center of the room and the people surrounding it before a curse hits my back.

The Cruciatus Curse.

I collapse to my knees, gritting my teeth to refrain from releasing any sound of pain. The sensation feels as though thousands of knives are carving into my skin and cutting me up while my bones are being lit on fire and my head is being split into two. I claw at the ground, holding myself in place to prevent myself from appearing weak to the Death Eaters in the room.

If I maintain my strength, I may be able to convince them I'm someone worth fearing.

The crushing anguish has me arching my back and uncontrollably letting out a small cry. As soon as I make the noise, the curse is lifted from me, and I'm gasping out breaths of relief.

Someone crushes my hand with their boot, my wand falling from my grasp as I hiss. At least one of my fingers must be broken. The Death Eater crouches down and swipes my wand, making a move for my dagger.

I stab him in the palm immediately, watching as the blade cuts straight through the flesh. I release the knife and take back my wand, flipping around to raise it at the rest of the room in meaningless defense.

Sprawled across the stone floor, panting with my hands wielding my wand desperately, I take a moment to absorb the pain all over my body. I hadn't noticed that the Apparatition had reopened my splinch wound until just now, the stinging of it hitting me suddenly. Slight tremors wrack through my frame from the after effects of the Curse, a dull ache making the vibrations worse. My fingers can barely move beyond the careful grip I have on my wand, cramped and weak.

My eyes dart around the room defensively, surveying the Death Eaters sitting at the table in front of me. They all peer down at me, the unmasked ones with wicked sneers on their faces, clearly finding pleasure in my current state. Compared to their tailored, finely pressed robes and cloaks, their groomed appearances, and their poise matched alongside the insanity that reeks off of them, I'm sure I look like a mess— something that satisfies them, no doubt.

I can feel the blood oozing from my side, soaking the bandage and making each breath uncomfortable. The matted texture of my curls itches the back of my neck, my hair wild all around me, making me wish I had tied it back before I left Grimmauld Place. There must be scratches all over my body from my earlier sprawl with the Death Eaters who had captured me. My calf is coated in blood as well, aching in a similar way to my side.

I'm unable to register the exposed faces of any of the Death Eaters in front of me. There's dozens of them in this room— despite my facade of relentless defense, there is no way I can get out of this alive. I've killed too many of their men, and I know their desire to see me suffer goes beyond mere hatred. At this point, it stems from a need for revenge.