TW:
Torture, blood, stabbing, daggers.
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Fawn couldn't tell you how long she had been trapped under the Death-Eater's watchful presence. All she knew was that she woke up some time later locked away in some sort of dungeon.
Her wand was missing though she had expected that. Everything ached. The darkness kept lulling her back to sleep for days at a time in between the torture. The white shirt she had been wearing during the game night was now soaked in blood that had still not yet dried. There was so much blood. So, so much blood. Fawn couldn't even tell where it was coming from anymore.
Her voice was gone. The Death-Eaters had given up on trying to force out information because of it. They still kept her though. They still thought one day she'd crack. Fawn couldn't remember when her last meal had been. She couldn't remember much of anything.
Light spilled into the darkness.
"Rise and shine, Sunshine," the rough, gravelly voice of the Death-Eater, Fawn now recognized as Antonin Dolohov, spoke.
Her body was dragged out into the large ballroom where the daily interrogation and torture would commence. Fawn was too weak to stand now, and far too weak to even think about fighting against the cruelty.
She watched as Bellatrix's eyes lit up at the sight of her toy. The Dark Lord sat in the corner, smirking, not yet having exhausted his efforts to get the Mudblood to speak.
Fawn was shoved into the wall, a wand pressed to her throat once again. The vial of Veritaserum was forced past her lips, down her red, raw throat, into the depths of her stomach.
They were stupid; the Death-Eaters that was. They weren't aware that the more a person drank the truth potion, the stronger their immunity against it became. Even if Fawn could speak, the potion would have no effect on the lies she spewed to the Dark Lord's face. If she was able to, Fawn would have laughed.
Blood from earlier days had sunken into the cement floor, bits of hair and skin stuck with it. It was a reminder that Fawn was still alive, still fighting in some small way.
"Speak, bitch," Dolohov hissed.
The girl blinked at him.
"I said speak."
Her lips twitched but nothing spilled from within them.
"What's wrong with her?" growled Lucius.
"She's not talking."
"Yes, I can see that, Antonin."
"I can get her to speak!" Bella jumped from her seat, wand twirling in between her fingers.
Fawn's heart plummeted. Not the cruciatus curse again. She knew that much more and she'd lose all sense of sanity like the Longbottoms had. The fact that she had been able to hold on this long was a miracle in and of itself. Fawn had already lost her voice, her strength, her livelihood. Did they really have to strip her from her consciousness, the one thing that made her human, too?
Bella's heels clicked across the floor of what Fawn had since pieced together was the main room of twelve Grimmauld Place.
Yes, she was being held hostage in Grimmauld Place. It was a shock that the puzzle hadn't fit together sooner.
Bellatrix tapped her wand against the younger woman's bruised cheek. "Won't speak will you?"
Fawn winced as the wand dug into a particularly fresh cut.
"Well, what should we do about that, hm?"
There was no need to answer. The right hand of the Dark Lord had already made up her mind. Bellatrix pulled a dagger from her heeled, leather, knee-high boot. Its handle was decorated with emeralds and silver swirls; the perfect fit for a Slytherin. The blade shone, bright and metallic under the sunlight streaming in from open windows. Fawn didn't want to think about what it would be used for.
Bellatrix kept her gaze fixed on the weapon, looking at it; a child opening a gift on Christmas morning that they had long begged for.
She reached a long finger out, running her sharp nail over Fawn's face, tracing a sort of map for herself. "That path should work, shouldn't it, sweetie?"
Fawn shuddered under her touch. Her body was screaming to run. If only she could.
It stung. The blade took its path from right below her nose, down through the corner of her lips, down the chin, pausing right above the Carotid artery. Hot blood ran down Fawn's chest, the one that was heaving with fear.
"Should I go deeper?"
This had to be the end. How would she get out of this one? The Order didn't know where to look. Dumbledore might have. Dumbledore is dead, Fawn reminded herself.
"Or perhaps," Bella moved the dagger painstakingly to the left until Fawn's neck met the wall. She slashed it harshly, the clang echoing through the room, "we give you," Fawn felt her hair fall away from her head, mingling with the blood pooling under her hands, "a haircut." Bella laughed. "I always hated that length on you, Briggs."
Fawn didn't care about her hair. She'd let her hair be shaved away if it meant the pain would stop. Hair grew back, people didn't.
"And these bangs," the blade sliced across her forehead, "are horrendous."
The dagger was imbedded with magic, dark magic. Every cut made on the now twenty-one year old was permanent.
This was no longer about getting information, Bella was just knife happy. The woman was evil, pure unadulterated evil.
The dagger was jabbed deep into Fawn's stomach but was not removed. They wanted her to suffer, not die. Fawn would go the rest of her time here with the blade in her because with it in she wouldn't be able to die. At least, not as quickly as she would without it.
She couldn't see anymore. The blood pouring from her forehead was obstructing her vision.
"That's enough for today, Bella."
It wasn't though, not for her. Voldemort's word was final though, so the witch listened and strutted away.
"Regulus Black," the Dark Lord murmured, "admitted to destroying the horcruxes."
He could not have. Why would he do that? That wasn't the Regulus she knew. He would have fought. He would have never given up that easily.
"He was a coward. I know he had help."
Fawn could feel every cut, every trickle of blood.
"I know you know more than you let on."
Everything in her was shouting.
"I know you helped him."
Punch him. Please, just punch him.
"It would be easier on you if you just admitted it. We could let you die the easy way instead of this. You'd like that wouldn't you? To die peacefully?"
She would like that, she would like that so much. Death was so much better than this. Death was a friend of hers and she was desperate to catch up with them. But Lily and James would never forgive her. They had all gotten this far. They were so close to the end. Giving up was not an option, not this late in the game.
Peter had turned out good because of her, she couldn't just abandon him. Remus had helped her so much. Giving up would be equivalent to betraying him. Sirius. Sirius was half of the reason she was doing this in the first place. He'd be dead if it weren't for her. Fawn needed to stay alive for him.
Alice and Frank had a son, a baby boy who needed them so desperately and Fawn wasn't going to let Bellatrix do to them what she had done to her. Marlene and Dorcas had a love so strong, so pure and Fawn wasn't going to let that die so early.
No, she needed to keep fighting. Even if Voldemort's promises of peace sounded like music to her ears, she needed to ignore it. No song would ever sound as good as victory.
So, with every ounce of energy she could muster from the depths of her nausea and dizziness she met his eyes that were as red as she was and whispered with the last bit of voice she had left, "No."
Voldemort stood, towering over her. "Fine. Just remember you asked for this, Miss Briggs."
She had, she knew that. It was worth it.
So, when the Cruciatius curse ravaged her body once again she cried in joy because at least she was still alive. At least she was still fighting.
And when the world spun and spotted into darkness she prayed for one more day. One more day was all she needed. Tomorrow she would pray for another, but for today, one more was enough.
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A/N
So, I think I got a little carried away. I swear things will get better...eventually.
Also, this is chapter 50!
Hope you all are having a good summer or end of school.
That's it I guess. Bye 👋🏼