There's a darkness inside everyone, no matter how good or pure someone seems its always there. For some its easy to ignore, for others its a wonderful temptation but for others its their very blood.
Hermione Granger has always felt a sort of darknes...
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AN
This chapter contains gore and torture, if you are squeamish do not read! This chapter does not contain any information needed for the storyline or plot.
Tom screamed, his magic lashing out destroying everything in the room. His daughter, his little snake, his princess had almost been killed by some little wretch. He screamed again his vocal chords straining, veins popping out his face. Rosalie ran in and took her husband into her arms. "I'm going to kill that old goat and his little wretch." Tom hissed his eyes flashing red. Rosalie smiled, laying a hand on her husband's cheek. "Dumbledore is yours, the wretch is mine." She replied, spitting out the last half of her sentence.
"BELLATRIX, RODOLPHUS AND RABASTAN IN HERE NOW!" Tom screamed and the three named death eaters ran into the room. "Yes my lord?" Bellatrix bowed as she addressed him. "Find me Hesta Jones and bring her back... Alive. Your lady wants a word with her." Tom ordered and Bellatrix smiled "It would be our honor." She hissed and three appeared on the spot.
***
Hesta Jones was having a good day. Albus had praised her for the take down of Hermione Granger and she smiled with pride. She didn't know why she had to take her down only that she did. She obeyed without question. Albus Dumbledore was her hero and mentor.
She whistled a tune as she walked towards her small house just off Diagon Alley. She had no idea what was laying in waiting for her. She opened her door to be met with silence. She couldn't hear her fiance Michael pottering around. "Michael?" She called but she received no answer, shrugging she took off her coat and walked into the living room to be greeted by a horrendous sight.
Michael lay on the floor, split open from neck to waist, his lungs ripped out his chest and intestines wrapped around what was left of his mangled neck. His legs were twisted and shredded, bone protruding from his skin. His once beautiful face was gone, pieces of brain splattered across the wall and floor. She let out a horrific scream falling onto the floor, staring at the mangled corpse of the man she loved. "No. No." She whispered brokenly, not hearing the footsteps approaching from behind. "Oh yes." A woman's voice hissed into her left ear. She turned to see Bellatrix Lestrange. "Night night." The mad woman sang and then darkness.
When Hesta came around she was naked and hanging off the ground by thick chains around his wrists that were up over her head. The room was pitch black. She was swinging slightly, her toes brushing but never quite finding purchase on the cold stone floor. Her arms were burning in agony,her shoulders felt like they were about to be yanked out of their socket.
She didn't know how long she stayed there but suddenly a door slammed open and high heels could be heard approaching her. A small hand brushed across her waist and Hesta tried to move away from it. The woman laughed and suddenly the room was lit up. Hesta closed her eyes, the light hurting them. She heard the woman move away and begin humming.
