If Only in Dreams: Captured

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Warnings: torture, threats of murder

"You," Bellatrix dug her long nails into the tender flesh of Amisty's jaw, "are a very lucky girl."

Amisty was still woozy, dehydrated and her stomach cramping for food. It had been a while—maybe a week, she couldn't really tell—since there'd been any tete-a-tete at their quaint little meetings in the drawing-room that left Amisty shaking and the Death Eaters with no new information other than how high a Wolf Born could scream.

Bellatrix had wasted no time in hitting her with several rounds of the Cruciatus Curse, this time, but Amisty had lost the ability to scream ages ago.

Vision hazy and shadowed at the edges, Amisty squinted until Bellatrix's pale face came into focus. "Huh?"

"Eloquent as always," Bellatrix sneered, bolstered by the cacophony of laughter from their spectators.

It'd become a bit of a sport for the Death Eaters, seeing how long it'd take for Amisty to break. She wouldn't be surprised if they had a board tallying points somewhere. A solid Crucio for ten and forcing a transformation until she passed out for one hundred.

The collar had yet to budge. Her fingers were red with blood from her many attempts to wrench it off.

"Grimmauld Place was empty," Bellatrix said, and Amisty's heart stopped beating.

"I'm sorry," she said, unable to contain the tremble of her body. "I-I thought they'd be there, I d-don't know where else they could have—"

"Oh, they were there," Bellatrix said. "Had set up a nice little headquarters for their infiltration to the Ministry, showed Yaxley right to the door." She trailed the tip of her nail across Amisty's cheek, mockingly gentle. "But they've run away again."

Relief blossomed in Amisty's chest, so warm and golden she'd almost forgotten how nice it'd felt.

"Oh," she said, forcing the corners of her lips down before they twitched up in a smile.

They got away. They were safe. She may have given up their location but they got away and now they had no leads and—

Bellatrix's eyes flashed. "Don't look so smug, mutt. You know what this means, don't you?"

Just as quick as it bloomed, the warm feeling withered and died, replaced with a cold sense of resignation. Her heart sank, muscles tensed as she slid her gaze to the floor.

"What?" she said, her voice hitching at the end because Bellatrix liked having her questions answered no matter how rhetorical.

"You're done for today," Bellatrix said, lowering her wand. Amisty stared, incredulous, and not daring to hope. Really? That was it?

"Run along, little wolf." Bellatrix ran her fingers along the length of her wand, casting an imperious look down her nose. "Before I change my mind."

Amisty had just begun to rise to her feet when the curse hit. She collapsed, spine curling, a ragged, choked-off scream savaging itself from her throat. Always falling for kind words and half-arsed excuses of pity, again and again, and look where it always got her.

"Did you see that?" Bellatrix cackled, the beam of red illuminating her face in a scarlet glow as Amisty writhed on the floor. "Such a naive thing! Did you really think you'd get away? You lying, filthy mongrel!"

"I'M SORRY!" Amisty cried. "I DIDN'T—!"

Clamping a hand over Amisty's mouth, Bellatrix knelt to one knee, head cocked to the side. "Save your pleading for someone who'll bother to listen."

Magic? || Years 5-7Dove le storie prendono vita. Scoprilo ora