We go down, together

Olivia

My body seized as the aftershocks of the third round of Cruico scorched my veins. My lungs were screaming, my bones on fire. Rocks crunched under boots to my right, or in front of me? Blood roared in my ears as I strained to hear. A hand gripped my hair, yanking my head up, "What does he even see in you?"

"He doesn't." Ominis' brother snickered in response, "Pity, too bad he was so ashamed of his dirty little secret to bother giving us a proper introduction."

"First Sallow and now a filthy little mudblood. Little brother sure knows how to pick em." Fingers began to trail down my jaw, lingering at the base of my throat. "Don't go dying on us now." I hadn't realized I stopped breathing, I took in a shuddering breath.

"Good girl." His steps retreated towards the other voice.

Fresh tears soaked into the silk wrap covering my eyes, I wanted to rip it off my face. Hot breath hit my ear, "what's wrong, darling? Don't like the dark?" It was a cruel joke, another thing to use against Ominis. My chest heaved as I jerked my head away, another wave of hot pain shooting through me.

"What do you think? I wagger two more rounds before she cracks completely."

Heavy hands slid down my arms from behind, the touch disgustingly gentle. "I wagger... she has at least four more in her." He leaned in again and whispered "I'm rather enjoying breaking you." I couldn't resist the small whimper that clawed its way out of my steadily closing throat.

Four more times. Just four more times. I could do that. I survived worse.

"Other than transferring into Hogwarts your fifth year, it seems there is absolutely nothing remarkable about you. So tell me, what are you are hiding? What has everyone falling at your feet?"

"I don't-"

"I would think really hard about your response before you consider lying to us. That is... unless..." he didn't finish his sentence. He didn't have to as his hands continued their descent, nails grazing over my throbbing thigh. My breath caught in my throat.

"You can't actually believe we haven't heard of you? The... what was it, ah savior of Hogwarts."

My scrambled brain tried to steer the conversation in a different direction. "My magic manifested much later than most. I'm- I'm still playing catch up."

"Is that so?"

My heartbeat thundered in my ears. "Yes, I do not know what you heard but-" a hand clamped around my throat.

"Nice try, my little liar." A strangled plea slipped from my lips, his words were hot on my mouth. "Breathing is a privilege. Mudblood's don't have privileges."

My feet kicked at the ground helplessly, the motion sent agonizing pain through my leg. "You want to start telling the truth?" I shook my head as much as I could in his grip, "you want me to stop? Beg."

His grip loosened but my airway was still constricted, "pl-ea-s-e-"

"You can do better than that, darling." His fingers shifted.

"Please!" My lungs screamed as oxygen burned them from within.

"Absolutely pathetic. We will have to work on that. I would have assumed at least Sallow would have trained you better."

A low laugh, "I heard Sallow is a rather possessive male, does that mean you like it rough? Say brother, you think she is getting off on this little game?"

"I know I am."

My stomach lurched, I clamped my mouth closed and swallowed against the rising acid in my throat.

"Let's ask the question again, shall we?" The tip of a wand slid across my skin. No. Please. Not again. "What exactly did you do to be named the savior of Hogwarts?"

"I overheard a dark wizard and his colleague discussing a rather horrific plot. I... did my best to stop it."

"Their name?"

"What?"

"The dark wizard."

"Rookwood. Victor Rookwood."

There was a momentary pause, the wand that had been gliding along my collar bone retracted. "Victor Rookwood is dead." It didn't sound like a question.

"Are you trying to take credit for the death of Victor Rookwood?"

My swallow was audible, "no."

It was quiet for a long moment and then one of the men scoffed, the other laughed.

A kick to the back of my chair had me surging forward onto the cold ground. My arms were yanked backwards as my chains snapped back in protest. "Stay on the ground, where you Muggle borns belong." Retreating footsteps echoed through the room.

I lowered my head to the ground. My entire body ached, my skin felt too tight.

Someone will come. Someone will notice I'm gone. I just need to hold out until then.

Or... no one is coming and I'm going to die here.

"How's the leg, mudblood?" I flinched at his voice, "you think you'll last four more rounds?" I couldn't muster the energy to raise my head. "You really are pathetic you know that? Pitiful, really."

Assuming it would be better to not respond, I let a tense silence fall between us.

Four more times.

Four more Crucios.

Four more Cruciatus Curses until it ended.