I Am Lacerta - Reposted for the Watty Awards 2011

I Am Lacerta Chapter 39

I Am Lacerta Chapter 39

I was dragged all the way up to Hogwarts, although I almost got away due to all the kicking and screaming I was doing. At the gate of Hogwarts, the man assisting Umbridge said in a low rumbly voice:

"I must get back to London now, Dolores. Nice to have that chat, and if you need any more help with brats like this one, I'll be there as quick as possible." he said, spitting in my face at the word "brat".

"Thank you very much for the help, Albert. I'll let you know when I found out anything else.." she said, and she violently kicked me in the face where I lay on the ground. Luckily for me, I had faced much worse from Lucius, so this was all a walk in the park. I laughed slightly deliriously, while I spat blood on the ground. 

"That wasn't very lady-like of you was it, Umbridge?" I mocked laughing. "Not that I'd call you a lady - a cow if anything....", which earned me another harder kick to the head, hard enough to draw blood.

I felt dizzy as Umbridge muttered: "Wingardium Leviosa." and felt myself being lifted off the floor. She then tapped me with her wand and where she tapped felt like an egg had been cracked on me and was now dripping all over me.

Once inside, she sat me down roughly on a chair and strapped me down, so tightly I coudl barely breathe. She then turned to lock the door, and when she turned back around she looked at me suspiciously.

"Now Lacerta, I know you don't like it, but you're going to answer a few questions, OK? It's for your own good, you know. You see, naughty children deserve to be punished." she said crouching down like she was talking to a four-year-old. 

"No. I'm not." I growled, and used my own weapon left. I spat at her. Then I started screeching and wriggling furiously to break free. She jumped back and let out an outraged shriek at my lack of respect for her "authority", looking at me like I was some sort of exhibit in a zoo. 

"You filthy little bitch!" she shrieked and slapped me across the face. "Oh, yes. I'm not afraid of you child. In fact I'm prepared to use all of my power - good and evil - to get this information out of you." she said smugly.

"You think I've never been tortured before? That would be monumentally bad planning if something like this were to happen, don't you think?" I said sarcastically, grinning at her frustrated face. 

But the grin fell off my face, when she shrieked:

"Crucio!" she shrieked, shrilly. 

The thing was, I'd lied. I'd only been tortured, properly placed under the Cruciatus Curse, about ten times. Sure I've been smacked about so much you'd think I was a boxer, and I've been stabbed as well, but it's not even remotely similar.

So when Umbridge put the Cruciatus Curse on me, I really wasn't prepared. Partly, because I honestly didn't think that this woman did had half enough guts to do it, but mostly because it was more excruciating than I could ever imagine.

It felt like every bone was saturated in lava, like my blood ran acid, and my throat was on fire from my restrained scream. My vision was blurred from pain, and I was using every ounce of pride and willpower I possessed to keep screeches and moans inside of me and to not writhe around as my instincts were telling me to.

I now knew exactely how it felt to be put under the Cruciatus Curse. I felt a kind of pity for all I had tortured using it.. but more than that I felt a need for revenge. It was pure hell.

Somehow using all my strength I returned Umbridge's glare with as much vigour as I could, but a slight grimace played about my features, the only external indication to my pain.

Umbridge looked increasingly disgruntled at the lack of shrieking and writhing on my behalf but hid it with a smirk. But I could tell. I could read people like a book and she looked like she was about to burst with irritation.

I mustered all my strength, to utter the words:

"That the best you got, bitch?", it was very strained and somehow it didn't come out half as painful and raspy as it felt to produce.

"Oh this isn't even close to my best, you little dirty-blooded cow." she spat at me, but I looked unfazed and managed to just rasp out the words:

"My blood's no dirtier than yours you lying little slag.", my teeth clenched at the effort it took to reply. She looked outraged, but covered quickly with a haughty smirk:

"This isn't half of what I can do. I was just warming you up. Time for round two I think, you horrible little slag." she said and pointed her wand at me with more concentration in her eyes.

I didn't think it was physically possible to be in more pain than I was already, but evidentaly I was wrong. I lost all the control I had been building up like sand slipping through my fingers. The pain ran through me like a never-ending wave of maddening-ly powerful pain. 

I felt myself spasming out of control, tears dripping down my cheeks. I could only hold my resolve for another second, before it completely dissolved, and I could hide it inside of me no longer as I released a piercing scream...