⚯͛ Unfortunate - Remus Lupin ⚯͛

49.

She had lost count of the days in that cell.

She lived in a constant state of slipping in and out of consciousness with little to no food, sunlight, magic and only very limited human contact. One of the only times she saw someone else was when Voldemort sent in a death-eater to torture her for information on these so-called 'horcruxes'. Maeve didn't even know what a horcrux was! No one seemed to believe her.

She felt numb now, wishing they would just kill her already. It was inevitable, but He was obviously trying to prolong her pain. It was her fault, she should have followed Remus' advice, she shouldn't have gone back.

The only comfort she had was in her cellmate, Lyra. She was there before Maeve got there, and she had explained to Maeve that she was a friend of Dumbledore's and was kidnapped by Voldemort to get information, similar to Maeve. For someone that claimed to be all powerful, Voldemort was kidnapping and murdering people excessively and Maeve thought it was because perhaps, deep down, he was incredibly insecure. This was the only way he felt he could have power.

"Iverson."

Shit.

She opened her eyes painfully to see Bellatrix standing by the cell door, unlocking it and holding it open.

"He wants you in the dining room."

"I can't move."

"Do I look like I care?" The older girl spat, before shaking her head and looking at her as if she was a piece of dirt, "I always knew there was something about you. You're a little rat, and I think that you're getting everything you deserve."

Maeve groaned, managing to force herself to standing, her whole body screaming at her to stop. Lyra and Bellatrix watched as she walked slowly towards the door, wincing. She had been cursed and thrown about so much over the past couple of weeks that her body was beginning to give up.

"He's waiting, hurry up," Bellatrix snarled.

"Get over yourself, Bellatrix," Maeve said tiredly, walking ahead of her.

"I'm not playing games, Iverson."

Maeve inhaled sharply as she felt Bellatrix's wand dig into her back, pushing her forward.

They walked up the stairs from the cold cellar to the main house, to find Voldemort waiting for them unnervingly, standing by the table in the dining room where they would normally have the death-eater meetings. The red slits that he called eyes scanned her carefully as she entered the room, looking back at him coldly.

"Sit, Maeve," He gestured to one of the seats.

She hesitantly took one of the seats and sat down, holding her breath.

"You haven't told us anything yet, nothing about the Horcruxes, nothing about the Order."

"I would never tell you anything."

"Oh, I'm sure you could change your mind. I'm not killing you until you give me information, so you could be here for a very, very long time," He said nastily, coming face to face with her, "So, what's it going to be?"

She spat in his face.

Bad move.

"Do it, Bellatrix," He said quietly, wiping the spit off his pale face, "This is your fault, Miss Iverson. After your little session with Bella, maybe you would have had a rethink. Otherwise, you'll have another session tomorrow, and the day after, and the day after that, until you give us information. Do you understand that?"

"Go fuck yourself," She told him.

I mean, seriously, what could Bellatrix do that was worse than what she had already gone through?