Chapter Nine
I wasn’t sure how much time had passed before I saw him again, but my rough estimate was about a week and a half. My days followed a strict routine: I’d wake up from fitful sleep, full of nightmares of something awful happening to Goldenwing, to find a plate of breakfast sitting on the floor of my cell. I would eat the breakfast, and then sit and wonder what was going to happen to me until lunchtime when Wormtail would come and take my plate and deliver lunch. We would change words, he would use the Cruciatus on me, and then he would leave. I would eat lunch when I recovered from the curse, and would sit and think about my family until dinnertime. The lady Death Eater, whom I sill didn’t have a name for, would come and collect my dinner. I didn’t ever bother to speak to her, and she always finished her job in silence, leaving me a plate of drugged food.
I didn’t mind the drugged food, so much. At least I knew that my dreams were completely fabricated, and that it wasn’t some sort of connection like Harry had with Voldemort. Today started out no different. Breakfast was waiting for me as usual. I ate it, and then sat and thought about Goldenwing, Draco, and Lacey. Lunchtime came, and Wormtail arrived.
“Hello traitor,” I greeted him, as I usually did. He glared at me, and pointed his hand at the floor. The old plate of food reappeared with food for lunch. It was as lumpy and colorless as breakfast had been.
“You’d be quite if you knew what was good for you, prisoner,” he sneered back, his high-pitched voice sounding very non-threatening to me at the moment. I rolled my eyes.
“You’re one to talk about knowing what’s good for you. You’re the one that joined up with that half monster!” I retorted. He pointed his silver hand at me and I knew what was coming next.
“Crucio! ” he bellowed. One discovery that I had made after I came here, was that if you were put under the Cruciatus Curse for a while every day, you start to develop an immunity to it. The pain was less this time; instead of feeling like knives were being poked into me and twisted around, it felt like small metal rods were being poked into me and twisted around. It wasn’t much of an improvement, but I was thankful for every bit of relief that I found.
He seemed to be upset at something because he held me under the Cruciatus Curse longer than normal. When he finally lifted it, I was in horrible pain, worse than I had ever felt. The world wouldn’t stop spinning, and I had to close my eyes before I threw up from the dizziness.
“Bitch,” was all Wormtail muttered before leaving me alone. Finally the pain became too much and I let the darkness claim my now wasted body.
When I regained consciousness, again, I found that I was not alone in the cell. Voldemort was sitting on my bed, sneering down at me.
“Had a nice nap there, little Ginny? He asked in his shrill voice. I fought the urge to ask him why he’d changed himself so much. He had been much more dangerous looking (and handsome) when he was seventeen. It was one of those things that had a reason behind it and no one really knew.
“Oh yeas, it was lovely. I find that I sleep the best after I’ve been tortured to the point that I pass out,” I said, my tone lined heavily with sarcasm. I was no longer afraid of Voldemort since I knew that he wouldn’t- couldn’t, really- kill me.
“Don’t be smart with me, girl,” he said, his eyes narrowing in irritation. His look of annoyance quickly turned into one of twisted pleasure, amusement. Something that most would find sickening and yet this man managed to accomplish this feat almost every single second of the day. “If you irritate me, I won’t tell you the exciting news I’ve brought you.” I gritted my teeth. It took quite a lot of effort for me not to unleash all of my anger out on him in the form of sarcasm. Voldemort motioned with one and the lady Death Eater, whom I had not noticed in the room, stepped forward from the shadows. She held up a copy of the Daily Prophet and started to read.
“ ‘Ginevra Molly Weasley was a vibrant, outgoing, and stunningly beautiful Sixth Year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. She was well-loved by her fellow classmates, was a good student, and was a star Quidditch player.’ How saintly,” she sneered before continuing to read the article aloud. “ ‘Miss Weasley disappeared nearly two weeks ago as she was traveling from Hydes Dragon Reservation to Hogwarts on the Knight Bus, accompanied by Draco Malfoy. Ministry officials questioned Mr. Malfoy, whose father, Lucius, is currently in Azkaban pending trial for associations with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, before being released into the custody of the school. Minister Fudge, at press time, had no other comments other than to say that Draco Malfoy is not a suspect at this time, and that everything in their power is being done to find Miss Weasley.
“ ‘Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster at Hogwarts, announced to the school that Miss Weasley was missing, and that the reason for her kidnapping is currently unknown. The disappearance of Miss Weasley is the newest in a line of kidnappings that are suspected to be related. Miss Weasley, like all of the other victims, is a female between the age of fifteen and twenty-five and is attractive. If you have any evidence on Miss Weasley’s disappearance of whereabouts, please contact the Ministry of Magic as soon as possible. ’ ”
My heart sank. I had been certain that Dumbledore would know that Voldemort had me, and would know how to save me. After all, if Dumbledore couldn’t do it, who could? Voldemort sneered coldly at me.
“You see, Little Ginny, they don’t know where you are. Your precious Potter can’t save you now.” He turned and faced the woman. “Come, Natasha. We have a meeting to attend.” With that, they left the room, and I was once again left alone. My gaze fell from the door that they had just exited to the floor, which was blurred with my tears. I ran the back of my hand across my eyes and stood up. I couldn’t lose hope; I would surely die if I did.
The lady Death Eater- Natasha, I corrected myself mentally- did not bring my dinner that night. Instead, Wormtail did. I was in no mood for my normal games, so I feigned sleep. I didn’t eat dinner that night. My loss of hope brought not only a loss of appetite, but also a fear that my food would have poison in it. When Wormtail left, I rolled on to my back and amused myself by finding pictures and words on the cracks in the ceilings. When I was little, I often amused myself by lying on my back in the grass and finding pictures in the clouds while my brothers played Quidditch, since they wouldn’t let me join them. Funny how they’d probably beg for me to play Quidditch with them now. Just like the nature of human beings, things change. What can one do? Hope for the best and prepare for the worst. Without realizing what I was doing, I found myself trying to find Goldenwing in the cracks. My eyes filled with tears as I thought about my beautiful dragon. Thousands of questions filled my mind: Was Draco feeding her? Was she worried about me? Did she know why I wasn’t coming to visit her anymore? Had she given up hope of seeing me again? The salty tears rolled down my cheeks as I realized that all of my questions would be unanswered. Exhaustion soon took over me and I fell asleep.
When I woke up the next morning, I was feeling more refreshed than I had the whole time that I had been gone. I made a mental note to start skipping dinner. The nightmares caused by the potion in the food often caused troubled sleep and I would wake up dozens of times during the night. As I thought about why I had skipped dinner in the first place, the hopelessness from the day before came flooding back in full force. I had to try something, anything, to get the feeling of uselessness to go away. I got up from my bed and stood in the middle of the room. Taking three deep, cleansing breaths, I closed my eyes and cleared my mind. The only thing I could think to do was communicate with dragons, anywhere.
Hello? Is anyone out there? I called from my mind tentively. I didn’t expect to hear from any Hydes dragons- I’d already tried communicating with them. I didn’t really expect anything to happen. I especially didn’t expect the roar that sounded in my mind and the feeling of utter confusion that overwhelmed me. My eyes snapped open and I took an involuntary step backwards. I decided to try again.
I’m not going to hurt you. I need your help, I called, although I was unsure how this dragon would help me. I hadn’t thought much of my plan on communicating with the dragons; but then again I hadn’t really been planning on communicating with any dragon at all. There was another roar in my mind, and this time anger accompanied it. I stood rigid for a moment, before I heard it. The dragon’s roar was closer now, and it was accompanied by screams of people. The wild dragon had attacked. I dropped to my bed and wrapped the ratty blanket around me. I didn’t know how to control wild dragons, especially not when they were attacking. Charlie had once told me that to face a wild dragon, even a calm one, is the scariest thing to do. I sank back into the corner and hugged my legs to my chest, letting my forehead rest on my knees. I didn’t know how to get out of the mess I’d started.
A long time later- hours, probably- the screaming finally stopped. There was one last roar and all was silent. Somehow I knew the dragon was dead. Relief and sadness, flooded through my body, and I lifted my head. Moments later, footsteps sounded outside my door, and it was thrown open to reveal Natasha.
“You stupid- you idiotic- you- you- ARGH!” She was so angry that she couldn’t finish a thought. She took a calming breath while angry, red sparks shot out of the tip of her wand that was held at her side. “You moronic bint! Do you realize that you could have gotten the lot of us- you, included- killed when you set that dragon on us? You do that again, and I assure you, My Lord will not hesitate to kill you,” she said, hissing the last part before turning and stomping out of the room, slamming the door shut behind her. I closed my eyes and leaned against the wall, letting my head hit it was a dull thud. A completely random thought ran through my head: she didn’t bring me food. I allowed a small, hysterical giggle at that thought, but it soon turned to tears.
Food wasn’t brought to me that day. I suppose it was punishment for the dragon incident, but I couldn’t find the heart to feel guilty for doing it. No food meant no visits from Wormtail or Natasha, and that meant no Cruciatus Curse. I knew that they would have to feed me before long, and that the torture would start up once again. And most likely not in the far future, but very soon.
The food- and the impending torture- came sooner than I had expected: that night. It was later than dinner was normally brought, and I was lying in my bed, trying to fall asleep, when the door opened. I sat up quickly and looked at the door. Natasha and Wormtail came in, Wormtail carrying a plate and Natasha carrying a torch, both holding wands. Wormtail put the plate of food on the floor as I scrambled to stand up.
“Fool,” Natasha said, and then flicked her wand and muttered, “Crucio. ” The pain was back. It felt like white-hot liquid was flooding through my veins, scorching every organ it came into contact with. It felt like red pokers were being shoved through me and twisted. Death compared to this would probably be a welcoming relief Just as my voice was giving out and I was about to accept the darkness that I felt creeping up on me, the pain stopped, and I was on the floor, twitching. Wormtail and Natasha leaned over me. “Don’t ever pull a stunt like that again. You’d better be glad that Our Lord isn’t here to do this himself.” And then they were gone, and I was alone.
I wasn’t sure how much time had passed before I saw him again, but my rough estimate was about a week and a half. My days followed a strict routine: I’d wake up from fitful sleep, full of nightmares of something awful happening to Goldenwing, to find a plate of breakfast sitting on the floor of my cell. I would eat the breakfast, and then sit and wonder what was going to happen to me until lunchtime when Wormtail would come and take my plate and deliver lunch. We would change words, he would use the Cruciatus on me, and then he would leave. I would eat lunch when I recovered from the curse, and would sit and think about my family until dinnertime. The lady Death Eater, whom I sill didn’t have a name for, would come and collect my dinner. I didn’t ever bother to speak to her, and she always finished her job in silence, leaving me a plate of drugged food.
I didn’t mind the drugged food, so much. At least I knew that my dreams were completely fabricated, and that it wasn’t some sort of connection like Harry had with Voldemort. Today started out no different. Breakfast was waiting for me as usual. I ate it, and then sat and thought about Goldenwing, Draco, and Lacey. Lunchtime came, and Wormtail arrived.
“Hello traitor,” I greeted him, as I usually did. He glared at me, and pointed his hand at the floor. The old plate of food reappeared with food for lunch. It was as lumpy and colorless as breakfast had been.
“You’d be quite if you knew what was good for you, prisoner,” he sneered back, his high-pitched voice sounding very non-threatening to me at the moment. I rolled my eyes.
“You’re one to talk about knowing what’s good for you. You’re the one that joined up with that half monster!” I retorted. He pointed his silver hand at me and I knew what was coming next.
“Crucio! ” he bellowed. One discovery that I had made after I came here, was that if you were put under the Cruciatus Curse for a while every day, you start to develop an immunity to it. The pain was less this time; instead of feeling like knives were being poked into me and twisted around, it felt like small metal rods were being poked into me and twisted around. It wasn’t much of an improvement, but I was thankful for every bit of relief that I found.
He seemed to be upset at something because he held me under the Cruciatus Curse longer than normal. When he finally lifted it, I was in horrible pain, worse than I had ever felt. The world wouldn’t stop spinning, and I had to close my eyes before I threw up from the dizziness.
“Bitch,” was all Wormtail muttered before leaving me alone. Finally the pain became too much and I let the darkness claim my now wasted body.
When I regained consciousness, again, I found that I was not alone in the cell. Voldemort was sitting on my bed, sneering down at me.
“Had a nice nap there, little Ginny? He asked in his shrill voice. I fought the urge to ask him why he’d changed himself so much. He had been much more dangerous looking (and handsome) when he was seventeen. It was one of those things that had a reason behind it and no one really knew.
“Oh yeas, it was lovely. I find that I sleep the best after I’ve been tortured to the point that I pass out,” I said, my tone lined heavily with sarcasm. I was no longer afraid of Voldemort since I knew that he wouldn’t- couldn’t, really- kill me.
“Don’t be smart with me, girl,” he said, his eyes narrowing in irritation. His look of annoyance quickly turned into one of twisted pleasure, amusement. Something that most would find sickening and yet this man managed to accomplish this feat almost every single second of the day. “If you irritate me, I won’t tell you the exciting news I’ve brought you.” I gritted my teeth. It took quite a lot of effort for me not to unleash all of my anger out on him in the form of sarcasm. Voldemort motioned with one and the lady Death Eater, whom I had not noticed in the room, stepped forward from the shadows. She held up a copy of the Daily Prophet and started to read.
“ ‘Ginevra Molly Weasley was a vibrant, outgoing, and stunningly beautiful Sixth Year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. She was well-loved by her fellow classmates, was a good student, and was a star Quidditch player.’ How saintly,” she sneered before continuing to read the article aloud. “ ‘Miss Weasley disappeared nearly two weeks ago as she was traveling from Hydes Dragon Reservation to Hogwarts on the Knight Bus, accompanied by Draco Malfoy. Ministry officials questioned Mr. Malfoy, whose father, Lucius, is currently in Azkaban pending trial for associations with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, before being released into the custody of the school. Minister Fudge, at press time, had no other comments other than to say that Draco Malfoy is not a suspect at this time, and that everything in their power is being done to find Miss Weasley.
“ ‘Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster at Hogwarts, announced to the school that Miss Weasley was missing, and that the reason for her kidnapping is currently unknown. The disappearance of Miss Weasley is the newest in a line of kidnappings that are suspected to be related. Miss Weasley, like all of the other victims, is a female between the age of fifteen and twenty-five and is attractive. If you have any evidence on Miss Weasley’s disappearance of whereabouts, please contact the Ministry of Magic as soon as possible. ’ ”
My heart sank. I had been certain that Dumbledore would know that Voldemort had me, and would know how to save me. After all, if Dumbledore couldn’t do it, who could? Voldemort sneered coldly at me.
“You see, Little Ginny, they don’t know where you are. Your precious Potter can’t save you now.” He turned and faced the woman. “Come, Natasha. We have a meeting to attend.” With that, they left the room, and I was once again left alone. My gaze fell from the door that they had just exited to the floor, which was blurred with my tears. I ran the back of my hand across my eyes and stood up. I couldn’t lose hope; I would surely die if I did.
The lady Death Eater- Natasha, I corrected myself mentally- did not bring my dinner that night. Instead, Wormtail did. I was in no mood for my normal games, so I feigned sleep. I didn’t eat dinner that night. My loss of hope brought not only a loss of appetite, but also a fear that my food would have poison in it. When Wormtail left, I rolled on to my back and amused myself by finding pictures and words on the cracks in the ceilings. When I was little, I often amused myself by lying on my back in the grass and finding pictures in the clouds while my brothers played Quidditch, since they wouldn’t let me join them. Funny how they’d probably beg for me to play Quidditch with them now. Just like the nature of human beings, things change. What can one do? Hope for the best and prepare for the worst. Without realizing what I was doing, I found myself trying to find Goldenwing in the cracks. My eyes filled with tears as I thought about my beautiful dragon. Thousands of questions filled my mind: Was Draco feeding her? Was she worried about me? Did she know why I wasn’t coming to visit her anymore? Had she given up hope of seeing me again? The salty tears rolled down my cheeks as I realized that all of my questions would be unanswered. Exhaustion soon took over me and I fell asleep.
When I woke up the next morning, I was feeling more refreshed than I had the whole time that I had been gone. I made a mental note to start skipping dinner. The nightmares caused by the potion in the food often caused troubled sleep and I would wake up dozens of times during the night. As I thought about why I had skipped dinner in the first place, the hopelessness from the day before came flooding back in full force. I had to try something, anything, to get the feeling of uselessness to go away. I got up from my bed and stood in the middle of the room. Taking three deep, cleansing breaths, I closed my eyes and cleared my mind. The only thing I could think to do was communicate with dragons, anywhere.
Hello? Is anyone out there? I called from my mind tentively. I didn’t expect to hear from any Hydes dragons- I’d already tried communicating with them. I didn’t really expect anything to happen. I especially didn’t expect the roar that sounded in my mind and the feeling of utter confusion that overwhelmed me. My eyes snapped open and I took an involuntary step backwards. I decided to try again.
I’m not going to hurt you. I need your help, I called, although I was unsure how this dragon would help me. I hadn’t thought much of my plan on communicating with the dragons; but then again I hadn’t really been planning on communicating with any dragon at all. There was another roar in my mind, and this time anger accompanied it. I stood rigid for a moment, before I heard it. The dragon’s roar was closer now, and it was accompanied by screams of people. The wild dragon had attacked. I dropped to my bed and wrapped the ratty blanket around me. I didn’t know how to control wild dragons, especially not when they were attacking. Charlie had once told me that to face a wild dragon, even a calm one, is the scariest thing to do. I sank back into the corner and hugged my legs to my chest, letting my forehead rest on my knees. I didn’t know how to get out of the mess I’d started.
A long time later- hours, probably- the screaming finally stopped. There was one last roar and all was silent. Somehow I knew the dragon was dead. Relief and sadness, flooded through my body, and I lifted my head. Moments later, footsteps sounded outside my door, and it was thrown open to reveal Natasha.
“You stupid- you idiotic- you- you- ARGH!” She was so angry that she couldn’t finish a thought. She took a calming breath while angry, red sparks shot out of the tip of her wand that was held at her side. “You moronic bint! Do you realize that you could have gotten the lot of us- you, included- killed when you set that dragon on us? You do that again, and I assure you, My Lord will not hesitate to kill you,” she said, hissing the last part before turning and stomping out of the room, slamming the door shut behind her. I closed my eyes and leaned against the wall, letting my head hit it was a dull thud. A completely random thought ran through my head: she didn’t bring me food. I allowed a small, hysterical giggle at that thought, but it soon turned to tears.
Food wasn’t brought to me that day. I suppose it was punishment for the dragon incident, but I couldn’t find the heart to feel guilty for doing it. No food meant no visits from Wormtail or Natasha, and that meant no Cruciatus Curse. I knew that they would have to feed me before long, and that the torture would start up once again. And most likely not in the far future, but very soon.
The food- and the impending torture- came sooner than I had expected: that night. It was later than dinner was normally brought, and I was lying in my bed, trying to fall asleep, when the door opened. I sat up quickly and looked at the door. Natasha and Wormtail came in, Wormtail carrying a plate and Natasha carrying a torch, both holding wands. Wormtail put the plate of food on the floor as I scrambled to stand up.
“Fool,” Natasha said, and then flicked her wand and muttered, “Crucio. ” The pain was back. It felt like white-hot liquid was flooding through my veins, scorching every organ it came into contact with. It felt like red pokers were being shoved through me and twisted. Death compared to this would probably be a welcoming relief Just as my voice was giving out and I was about to accept the darkness that I felt creeping up on me, the pain stopped, and I was on the floor, twitching. Wormtail and Natasha leaned over me. “Don’t ever pull a stunt like that again. You’d better be glad that Our Lord isn’t here to do this himself.” And then they were gone, and I was alone.
Leave a Review