SHE'S ALL THAT ➭ SIRIUS BLACK ❨2❩ ✔︎

ACT FIVE, SCENE THIRTY NINE

A DUNGEON
(tw: description of slight torture/abuse, don't read if it makes u uncomfortable)

Even before she opened her eyes, Sage Fontaine-Black was aware of two things: first, some sort of cord was wrapped around her wrists, ankles, and midsection; second, she was in pain—a ridiculous, delirious, agonizing amount of pain.

When she did attempt to open her eyes, she found that her left eye was so swollen that her sight was reduced to a tiny slit.

She was still in her nightgown, blood soaked into the white silk and dried down to a dirty brown.

So she had been there for a while, at least a few hours. That much was clear from the dried blood alone.

She fought through the haze of pain and attempted to survey her surroundings.

Stone floors and walls. No windows. Chains welded to the wall. The smell of decay and rot. The only light came from a melted down candle in the corner, by a large wooden door that, like the walls, didn't have a single window.

She didn't bother to scream, or call for help, or struggle. She knew that would get her nowhere.

Sage might not have had any personal experience with kidnapping—unless she counted being ripped away from her family home in France, which she didn't—but if Bellatrix was somewhere nearby, she didn't want the unwanted attention of causing a scene.

She had no chance of escape if she screamed and cried.

But any chance of an escape went out the window when she heard the sound of a key turning in a lock, and the wooden door swung open to reveal Bellatrix on the other side, carrying a silver platter laden with bread and butter, some sort of eggs, and a mug filled with steaming liquid.

"Good morning, darling." Bellatrix crooned, nudging the door closed with her hip since she had no free hands. "I've brought you some breakfast—thought you might be hungry."

Sage's stomach gave a betraying growl. Despite this, she shook her head. "No. Not hungry." She lied through gritted teeth.

Something shifted in Bellatrix's eyes. "You need to eat, Sage. This isn't something you can refuse." Her eyes drifted from Sage's face to the Dark Mark on her arm. "You know, I could end this right now. Call the Dark Lord, have him punish you for your treason. But I'm giving you a chance to join us again—he'd take you back if you swore your loyalty to us again."

"I don't know who the hell you think I am, but I am not your friend. I haven't been in years. We are not on the same side." Sage snapped. She tested the limits of the restraints around her wrists, seeing how far they'd allow her to move.

They were loose, but not loose enough for her to slip out of them, unfortunately.

Bellatrix noticed this test of limits. "I wish things were different. I'd hoped you would make the right choice."

She drew her wand out of a pocket hidden in her skirts, pointed it at the cord, and whispered a muffled word. The rope tightened to the point of pain, so close to Sage's wrists that there was no room for movement.

"Now open your traitor mouth. I'm not untying you, but you need to eat."

☾

When Sage woke up next, she had a feeling a great amount of time had passed. Bellatrix had put something in the food, it seemed. Something to make her sleep for an indefinite amount of time.

Sage was groggy, a fog settled over her brain that made it hard for her to think, move, and even blink. If it hadn't been for the ropes around her wrist and midsection, she wouldn't have known where she was.

The pain she'd felt earlier had mostly subsided, now a dull ache instead of a striking agony. And she was no longer in the same bloodstained gown that she'd been wearing when she first woke up.

Someone had changed her while she'd been unconscious. She wore a pair of loose black sweatpants and a thin shirt made of soft black fabric, rather than the nightgown Maia had gotten her as a gift for her wedding night. She wondered absently where the nightgown—ruined, but still holding sentimental value—had gone.

She sighed, leaning her head back as far as it would go. She felt something pull, a sharp tug, at the base of her neck, and she exhaled in relief at the feeling of the silver locket Sirius had given her still around her throat. Even if her favorite nightgown had been taken, at least she still had Sirius with her, if only in spirit.

She thought about Harry. Had Sirius realized she was gone and alerted their godson, friends, and maybe the authorities? At least Moody, who wouldn't tell the Ministry but would take care of things himself. She wondered if they were looking for her, if they even knew where to look.

She was broken out of her thoughts when the door opened again. Except this time, it wasn't Bellatrix—it was her husband. His face was scarred and ghostly looking, like he hadn't seen the light of day in years.

"Sage." Rodolphus said coldly, spinning his wand around his fingers.

She didn't reply. She just stared past him, at the melted-down candle that flickered in the corner. She wouldn't meet his eye.

He was abruptly in front of her, grabbing her chin with dirty fingers and squeezing until any normal person would have gasped in pain.

But she wasn't normal. While she had a low pain tolerance, she had a wicked poker face. Nothing would make her flinch if she didn't want to.

Sage finally met his glare, and she held eye contact as she spat at him.

"Blood traitor bitch." His grip loosened and his hand was suddenly cracking across her face in a sharp slap.

She grinned, showing off a bloody mouth. "Touch me again, and I'll have your head on a spike, Lestrange." She slurred, and while the smile on her face was more of a sneer, her eyes were bright and gleeful.

He backed up and raised his eyebrows, wand twirling around his fingers once more. "I don't have to touch you to make you beg for death."

"I'd like to see you try—"

"Crucio!"

Sage didn't scream. She didn't scream, cry, or even react at all. She just closed her eyes, gritted her teeth, and took it.

lol!