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ANGUISH
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Charlotte didn't know where she was, only that she'd been apparated to a dungeon before hurling her guts out onto the floor, having female Death Eaters confiscate her clothing and instead wear some sort of pillowcase looking rag, which was somewhat small for her- but she had obeyed their instructions quietly, keeping in mind that she wouldn't be there for long. Her friends would find her soon.

And now, she had been dragged into a large room with dark hardwood floors and marble walls and there were Death Eaters all around her, celebrating with wine glasses and magical music and a muggle bleeding out above the table (a once handsome man, not a day older than twenty-one, neck tinted red with his own blood).

And she was expected to watch, and to clean, and to serve. That's what she'd been told. She was to be a 'house muggle'.

"Fucking hell, woman," Charlotte muttered to herself as a Death Eater poured her glass deliberately onto the expensive floor she had just finished polishing.

As Charlotte bent to her knees to scrub once more, the lady sent a foot smashing into her skull, knocking her into the table, and her soapy bucket onto the floor. Sticky, viscous blood from the man suspended above dropped onto her forehead and mixed with her own, which seeped from her right temple.

"Stand," the woman said. Charlotte rose, and looked Bellatrix Lestrange directly in her black eyes. Everybody was watching. "You do not talk under this roof."

"Good luck trying to shut me up," Charlotte spat back at her. "You filthy cow."

Lestrange licked her lips, pulled out her wand and the death eaters jeered and laughed as she grinned manically.  Charlotte could feel panic rising inside her, as she remembered she had no weapon of defence. Until she realised that, that was the reason why she shouldn't be afraid. These monsters would never hurt her if she could hurt them back, because ultimately, they were all cowards, and cowards would never beat her. They could hurt her, but never defeat her.

"You're too bold," Lestrange cackled. "Time to for answers, I think. Crucio."

The pain was unlike anything Charlotte had ever faced in her life, it was like a thousand bees stinging her, horses stretching her limbs, a drilling in her head over which she could only hear her own screams.

It seemed to go on for all of eternity, the laughs of the evil around her blending with her own sounds of agony, a cacaphony of sound. And when it ended, and Lestrange lowered her wand, the room was spinning and  horrifying weakness overcame her. It took all of her energy to stand, and put on a brave face.

"All this torture," Charlotte laughed, licking her bleeding lip. "When are you going to get to the good part?"

Bellatrix Lestrange cackled loudly, twirling her wand in the air. "Oh, you've got nerve. But what makes you think I won't just kill your pathetic muggle arse right here and now?"

"Because you need me," Charlotte said, and Bellatrix burst out laughing, and the others echoed her. Her cheeks heated up. "No really, you do. You need information, and I haven't given you any yet."

Charlotte's heart was hammering in her chest, her ADHD only heightening to adrenaline in her blood as she spoke, and Bellatrix laughed.

"You're trying to buy yourself time."

"I'm not," she admitted, and it was the truth. "I'm the boss here, I've got all the time in the world. It's you that's got a deadline. Your Dark Lord won't be happy if you don't have any new information to give him. So kill me. Go on. I've got nothing left to lose, you've killed my friend, I don't think I'll ever get back to my family and you're never going to get any information out of me. I don't know anything anyway. Explain that to the monster you hold so dear to-"

Bellatrix sliced the air with her wand, and there was a sharp blade-like presence on her cheek and then it stung, red hot along her cheekbone.

"You deserve worse than death you filth!" she yelled, casting the Cruciatus Curse and Charlotte had expected it, yes, but the shock was unimaginable regardless. She fell to the ground once more, body convulsing with jolts of pain. "What are Dumbledore's plans for this war?"

"How should I know?" Charlotte shouted through sobs, when the curse was lifted. She tried to push herself to her feet again, but her arms gave way and she slumped to the ground again. "You can tell none of you have ever been in love- we don't talk about this sort of thing! We talk about music and school and family and food and movies and- nothing to do with any of this!"

They didn't believe her, of course.

~

Her torture had lasted hours, and in that time she hadn't spoken a word about the Order, or Dumbledore. Partially because she didn't know the anything about those questions, partially because she would never betray Harry.

Eventually, it seemed that the wizards realised her claims of ignorance were true, and began to ask her questions about Harry himself, questions about his friends and their respective families. At some point they'd even asked her about Theodore Nott's role in Dumbledore's Army, and she claimed to never have heard her brother's name before.

She was shaking with residual pain, as well as cold, as she sat alone on the frozen concrete floor of a lightless, and once soundless dungeon. But after some time of being locked away, Charlotte began to lose her mind. She could hear the sounds of other voices, chattering together as if she were sat in her school canteen.

Ocassionally she'd hear Flynn's laugh, or Gretel handing out detentions, but everytime she called out for them, her voice would dissolve into the empty vacuum, and the sounds would disappear for a moment. That was when she realised, that the sounds were in her mind. Her brain couldn't compute the intense, complete silence, and so it had invented its own noise.

She was managing to ignore it all, close her eyes, and imagine she was surrounded by her classmates, but in one moment she caught her father's voice in the masses, uttering her name, and that was a pain worse than any of the curses the wizards had tried on her.

It was the pain of missing those she loved, of being alone. Charlotte wished she could be with her father again, wished he could hold her, and plait her hair, and sing her lullabies like he used to. But Richard Cardleman was far away from her now.

She was alone.

Charlotte felt tears fall from her eyes, and soon she was sobbing. She thought of Harry, and begged into the oblivion before her:

"Please find me."

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Hello everyone!
Long time no see, and I'm awfully sorry but I'm literally three days away from my first exam so please wish me luck!

I hope you enjoyed this chapter, it's a little bit different to what's usual for this book but I feel like this has a more Caecus-y vibe to it, don't you?

QOTD: last minute study tips?
AOTD: IM TRASH FOR PAST PAPERS

-Amber E. Sweetwine.

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