Lillith's Father [2]

Lillith's Father: Chapter Fifteen:

Chapter Fifteen:

It was hard, Fred decided the next day, to go on pretending as if nothing was wrong when more than half the reason for your happiness had been taken away from you.  Fred felt vulnerable, his emotions were over the top, he hadn't been able to smile in over twenty-four hours, nor would he fake one for the customers.  

Only a true smile was worth being seen.

George had a hard time of keeping it together too, it wasn't any secret as to why.  By now, everyone seemed to have known what had happened.  Everyone was on the lookout for Lillith Deacon.  Only a few people knew what had actually happened, Fred, George, and the golden trio, not to mention Snape, Dumbledore and McGonagall.  Anyone else assumed that she had either been kidnapped or she had run away.  

Nobody could be completely sure what had happened and rumors flew around Hogwarts, Hogsmeade and Diagon Alley about the sixteen year old girl.  Some even said that Dumbledore had had her murdered.  As far as Fred thought, he may as well have, it was his and Snape's fault that she was sent off to Voldemort, she could very well die. She could already be dead.  

His chest ached painfully as Fred tried to think of something, anything else.  But his mind would only think of her, the girl he'd come to love with everything inside of him.  He wondered if he'd ever see her again.

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I sat up in the cold, dark prison cell, sure that today would be the day when I would escape.  However, only one look in the direction of the sound of movement told me that today I wouldn't be going anywhere. Nagini had positioned herself directly in front of my cell.   I'd never been so grateful that the bars weren't very far apart, it meant that Nagini couldn't fit through the bars and eat me alive.  

It also meant I had no chance of escaping.  

I didn't move on the stone cold bench I laid upon, scared to have the monsters attention on me, and I fought to keep my breathing deep and normal.  Please go away, my mind begged the snake, and it was almost too good to be true when she finally started to move away, back out of the dungeons.  But my relief didn't last long, as I realized someone was coming to get me out of my cell.  Biting my lip, I sat up, patting my hair as best as I could.  

Bellatrix Lestrange came in, and for the first time ever, she didn't say anything as she unlocked the door and grabbed my arm, pulling me behind her.    I stumbled, trying to keep up with her much longer legs as she dragged me along.  I thought back to all the times she had brought me out of my cell, and not once had she ever been so rough about it.  What had changed?

"What's going on?"  I questioned, grunting as her grip upon my arm tightened painfully.

"Shut up, girl.  We'll ask the questions, you'll keep your mouth shut unless you're answering us."  

My eyes widened as I licked my lips nervously, almost running to keep up with Bellatrix as she dragged me into the large room where Voldemort always brought me to ask me questions.  She threw me in front of her and I grunted as my knees landed on the floor painfully.  Looking up, I noticed several people in the room, not just Voldemort and Bellatrix, Draco's father was also present, and the Greyback man, plus three others who stood threateningly behind the Dark Lord.  

What had changed?  I'd been treated, for the most part, pretty well. I ate, I bathed, I got new clothing and I hadn't been handled too roughly in the past month and a half. Well until today, my mind muttered.   I got up off my knees, making my facial expression as stony and emotionless as possible. I couldn't let them know that I was scared.  

I was scared about what was about to happen to me.  Because Voldemort had his wand out and he was pointing it at me lazily, his eyes hooded as he stared at me, unblinking.  Gulping loudly,  I lifted my chin up, staring at each of them with as much courage as I could muster up.  

"Lillith Deacon, I do not enjoy being lied to," the Dark Lord spoke after several minutes, his voice soft but everyone strained to hear him.  My heart began beating fiercely in my chest as I wondered what lie he had caught me in.  

He didn't take the time to tell me, instead straightening out his arm and staring at me for a moment. That was all it took before I was on the ground, screaming for all that I was worth, my eyes squeezing shut as I fought my body's attempt to vomit out of my mixture of pain and utter fear.  I couldn't think past the feeling of white-hot knives carving into my flesh and bone, it was the worst pain I'd ever felt and I couldn't stop screaming.  I wasn't sure how long it lasted, it didn't let up, the pain kept going, making me convulse long after my voice had gone out.  

Then suddenly, it stopped.  

I fought for control of my breathing, attempting to make my body stop shuddering, tears streaked down my face as I tried to push myself up.  My muscles shook unsteadily and I fell back down, simply wrapping my arms around myself and pulling my legs up, laying in the fetal position.   

Please no more.  I'm sorry.  

Please.  

Cackling laughter from behind me pulled me out of my own mind, and I moved my neck slightly to look back at Bellatrix.  "So, we'll try this again.  You're friends with Harry Potter, aren't you?  Really chummy together, dating his best friends brother."  

I fought to keep control of my emotions as I laid there on the ground.  Maybe this was just a test.  They had to know if I was telling the truth, torture will make you tell the truth.  If I said no, that I wasn't friends with Harry now.... maybe they'd believe me.  

But maybe they'd hit me with another curse.  

Either way, I would have to risk it.  I'd have to lie.  If I admitted to them that I was friends with Harry, they'd likely use me against him, in a trap of some sort, and I couldn't risk that.  I wouldn't be used as a weapon against the people I love and who love me. 

"No I am not."  My voice, in that moment was something that I was honestly and truly proud of.  For years, I had not spoken, but when I needed my voice, like I did right then, it was strong and unbreaking.  Anyone, man, woman or child would be proud to have sounded so strong knowing that you'd be tortured.

It hurt.  Merlin it hurt.  It felt as if my flesh was being burned off me, my joints were being pulled out of socket, knives, a million and white-hot were stabbing into me.  My bones were snapping, breaking and being put back together only to be broken once more.  

It hurt so bad.  

It hurt.