Alternative Timeline: XXXII

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The next time Lae woke up was to complete, utter darkness. Her fingers fumbled over her face, and pulled at the corse fabric obstructing her eyesight, without luck. It refused to budge, nor give an inch, held there by an unknown force, like trying to peel tape from paper after the adhesive already set, and Lae had no doubt if she continued her efforts she'd be ripping her skin from her bones before the fabric let loose. It snugly remained wrapped around her crown, despite her increasingly enthusiastic attempts to rip it free.

"Don't wast your effort. It won't come off until we say it does."

Lae blindly sought out the voice, zeroing in on the point she suspected it may have come from. How many others were in the room with them, she wondered?

"And when might that be?" Lae asked.

The other person, a woman, made a thoughtful sound in the back of her throat, as though considering the question. "You gave us quite a surprise with your Legilimency. It was careless of us to assume you wouldn't be able to perform it without your wand, especially given your... heritage. So I really don't know." At least she was honest. "Obviously our own Legilimency is off the table, too, after that whole debacle."

"Ah." Lae didn't know how she ought to respond to that. "My condolences."

"No matter. Legilimency is dreadfully unreliable when getting information anyway, because as long as you aren't thinking about what we want to know, we won't be able to see it all that easily. Moving on," she clapped twice in quick succession, "you're all patched up. Wouldn't even know anything ever happened if I weren't informed. Are you hungry?"

The honest answer was yes. Lae hadn't eaten since the morning of her capture which was... how long had it been? It was hard to keep track of the passing days when she kept passing out.

But the ploy was so obvious, Lae had no other choice than to lie. "No."

"Really? Not even a bit of water?" the women pressed kindly. "Here, let me help you."

The sound of soft steps filled the room, and then, all of a sudden, cool, balmy glass was guided into Lae's hand.

"Are you comfortable drinking on your own? I can help, if you need it," the woman offered.

"I'm fine."

Lae trusted few things less than the kindness of strangers, least of all a stranger who clearly wanted information.

"Come on. You need to drink something. It's not healthy—"

"I'm not thirsty."

"Really—"

Without a care for where it landed, Ophelia tossed the cup across the room to an applause of shattering glass. "I said I'm fine." Her voice didn't once shift from bored monotone.

They couldn't get her to drink what wasn't there.

A sigh. "A bit of an overreaction, if you ask me. Reparo." Lae imagined the women aiming her wand at the shards and them reassembling atop a puddle of water. Another sigh. "Evanesco." The vanishing spell. "I'll be back tomorrow, if you ever want to eat, or to talk about your uncle. He is a vicious criminal. A murderer who leads murderers. You must know that?"

Lae remained silent. Of course she knew.

"Very well. Like I said, I'll see you tomorrow with some fresh water. Food, too. I'm sure you'll be hungry by then."

***

True to her word, the woman didn't come to bother Lae for another cycle of the sun through the sky, leaving Lae to the worst company imaginable: her own thoughts, for twenty-four dreadfully mundane hours. Granted, she couldn't know the time for certain. It felt like three times as long. The silence dug deep, more irksome than even her continued blindness, stuck in a dark void with only her own heartbeat for company.

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