A/N: The below contains excerpts from The Chamber of Secrets, The Prisoner of Azkaban, and The Half-Blood Prince.
She finds it hard to trust someone
She's heard the words 'cause they've all been sung
She's the girl in the corner
She's the girl nobody loved
- Unbreakable, Jamie Scott
The elf came and went three more times before she decided to attempt to talk to him again. She knew that it very likely wouldn't amount to anything, but it was one of the only potential avenues for escape available, and she had no choice but to explore any and all options.
It was, she thought, almost time for him to bring the second meal of the 'day', and she was poised near the door where the creature usually apparated in.
The previous 48 hours had passed with little event save for another, shorter period of tremors, and even less conversation. After telling her about having taken the mark, Malfoy seemed to retreat in on himself, falling silent.
Even while she laid on the ground shaking, he had prodded her wrist and hand without comment.
Hermione pondered briefly if this was what it was like to reside in a Buddhist monastery – taciturn looks, small movements that seemed louder than they were, nothing but the sound of breathing.
She had told Malfoy of her plan to ambush the elf, but he had done little more than shrug and point out that it was a useless exercise. She resented the fact that he was probably right.
Just then, the creature popped into the room, and Hermione's hand shot out, grasping his tiny forearm before he had the chance to pop away again.
"Please, where are we? How do we get out of here?" she asked, desperation colouring her voice. His small frame was draped in a filthy pillowcase and his ears were ragged. He looked up at her, one milky eye unfocused, the other a watery, yellow-green orb, desaturated by the lack of light in the room.
His mouth dropped open and, after a split second of hope, Hermione released him and flung herself backward onto the stone floor with a shriek, ignoring the pain that shot up her injured limb.
Malfoy quickly shifted to his feet in the corner and stepped toward the elf before his eyes widened and a look of horror crossed his own features.
The elf's mouth hung open to reveal a gaping hole and he let out a hissing sound that might have been a laugh, the skin on either side crinkling. Fleshy gums tucked behind his thin grey lips, entirely devoid of teeth. In the middle of his maw though, it appeared that someone had rather viciously cut out his tongue – the severed muscle sat tattered, lolling in saliva.
Hermione quickly crawled to the pail in the corner and retched violently, vomiting up what was left of the food in her stomach from the last meal. When she was done, a sheen of sweat on her forehead and gasping in ragged breaths, she turned to move from behind the curtain and looked around the room.
The elf was gone, and Malfoy was still frozen in place.
"I," he swallowed hard. "I know where we are."
Hermione, still shaking and trying to catch her breath, raised her eyebrows expectantly.
"I've only met one person sadistic enough to cut out their house elves' tongues," he explained, white as a sheet. "We're at Lestrange Manor."
YOU ARE READING
The Cell
Fanfiction"What the fuck happened, Malfoy?!" She exploded, her voice cracking as she turned toward him. "One minute I'm being tortured, convinced that I'm going to die in your family's tacky drawing room, there's spellfire, a crash that felt like a ruddy eart...
