Who: Hestia Carrow, Rodolphus Lestrange, Susan Bones What: Susan's ordeal, continued When: It's been happening for a few days now Where: Lestrange Manor, but ssh! Don't tell anyone. Rating/Warnings R/VIOLENCE AND TORTURE. DO NOT READ THIS IF IT WILL MAKE YOU UNCOMFORTABLE. Management accepts no responsibility for trauma induced by neglecting to read the warnings and clicking the cut anyway.
It was almost nine in the morning when Hestia showed up at the Lestrange manor. She waited patiently at the gates to be let in, humming to herself. Somehow, all the aggravation of how the world was turning out, seemed to dissipate now that she knew she was doing something about it, something concrete.
-- At the precise appointed hour, Rodolphus strolled out the manor door, easy smile across his face. If he was concerned about the girl in his basement dungeon, or what would happen to her that day, he didn't show it. It wasn't really in keeping with Rodolphus' character for him to care about anything or anyone. He was, however, interested in seeing if Hestia Carrow would hesitate when it came to seriously injuring the girl down there. So far, there had been no mention of the Bones girl disappearance in the media. The silence was deafening. Of course, perhaps Amelia Bones would be more receptive to speaking if she received her niece's fingers.
He gave a slow smile as he approached the gate, and said a quick incantation to swing it open. "Welcome back, Miss Carrow. Are you ready to work?" he asked, indicating she should enter and follow him inside the manor.
-- Honestly, the hardest part for Hestia right now was containing herself. She’d had days to dwell on the fact that she had a hostage stashed safely in a basement, days to dwell on the fact that she had begun to torture her and would continue to do so - and it was all in the name of purity. Of ridding the wizarding world of this fool who sat in the driver’s seat and insisted on letting riffraff on the bus.
She smiled brightly at Rodolphus, genuinely happy to be here and to be carrying on with the work they had begun. “Yes, sir, I believe I am,” she replied. “I was slightly disheartened when I saw no mention of Madam Bones stepping down after the receipt of the girl’s hair - but I had had something of a better idea. If I may?” She didn’t use the girl’s name. It was easier for her to think of Susan not as “Susan Bones”, former peer, but rather as little better than an object that they were keeping around for their entertainment.
-- "Oh, little one, you'll come to find that people want to believe things are not serious as long as possible. They stick their heads in the sand and turn a blind eye until confronted with the truth. And sometimes, even then they continue to pretend everything is fine. So, if you have patience, it can be precious. It will pay off in the end," Rodolphus said as they made their way inside the manor and he led her towards the basement. "Trust me, if we continue to escalate, soon she will give in. Or in a while. Both are fine, really, so long as we keep her alive," he added, smiling at her. He could tell she was excited, and he was eager to see how she would be in the work room this time.
"Turn around," he commanded when they arrived in the outer room. He said his incantation and flicked his wrist to open his special room, and the excitement hit him with the smell. Ahh yes, he perhaps should have done something for that, but all the better that she had to sit in her own filth. "Play time," he said, smiling towards Hestia.
--
It might have been hours, days or weeks, Susan wasn’t really sure. She’d tried to keep time, but with the basement so dark, and no human contact to speak of, it was hard for her to know just how much time had passed. She’d moved little from her spot up against the wall. There was the occasional movement here and there as she stretched, tried to keep her muscles from getting stiff, but for the most part, there was nothing to do but wait. The few occasions that she did receive ‘visitors’ it was for the essentials, or as it seemed the regular torture that had become part of this captivity.
As the door opened, Susan glanced up at the sudden invasion of light, her hair sliding into her face as she looked away immediately. She curled up again, trying to press back against the wall as if she hope they weren’t there for her, though of course they were.
-- The smell, while it might have excited Rodolphus, disgusted Hestia. She almost gagged, quickly waving her wand to clean the girl up so she wouldn’t have to smell the filth. Knowing that this might be seen as an act of mercy, she smirked, going to sit next to the girl and stroking her hair gently.
“Your aunt is a fool,” she crooned gently in the girl’s ear. “Despite being sent a lock of what was obviously your hair, she continues to sit in the seat we so badly want her removed from. I’m sure you understand that this means we have no choice but to escalate.”
Slowly, she ran her fingertips down the girl’s arm, almost like a lover might, ending by taking the girl’s hand in her own. “I’m sure you understand that if a lock of your hair doesn’t do the trick, we have to take it to the next level.” She took out the girl’s wand. She’d been keeping it close, so that it could be used for anything that could be linked back to herself and Rodolphus. She gently extended the girl’s fingers, separating the pinky finger from the rest, and with the same crooning tone of voice she’d used the entire time, she murmured a generic slicing charm - the same one she’d used to split the girl’s bag - and brought it down on the extended finger.
“Shh,” she soothed. The charm wasn’t as strong as she’d thought, and she found herself almost having to “saw” with the girl’s wand in mid air, to force the charm to cut through flesh, sinew, and bone. “It will all be over soon.” She pressed her lips to the girl’s cheek as the small finger was finally completely severed and fell to the floor of the dungeon, stifling thrilled little giggles.
Her giggles were cut short at the sight of the blood.
--
Susan had been relieved at first to be cleaned. It had been a while since she’d felt anything but dirty. Oh she’d gotten used to the smell soon enough, it wasn’t hard when it was so overwhelming, but there was still the feeling of dirt, stickiness and excrement that had at times made her skin crawl. Still, she couldn't help but wonder what it was the girl wanted as she came to sit beside her. She might have tried begging or pleading, but Susan had started to realise that appealing to their better nature didn’t seem to work. She listened as the girl spoke about her Auntie Amelia, and she couldn’t help but feel proud, even if a little disappointed, that she refused to give into this nonsense. As much as Susan wanted out, she knew well just how much good Amelia could do for the wizarding world, and that was what was important.
Though as she started to take her hand, Susan wrenched it away. The clarification didn’t help much and her eyes went wide as she realised what the girl intended to do. “No! You can’t!” She said, trying to keep her hand away, but it didn’t help. She had a tight grip and as Susan tried to fight her, in her weakened state, it didn't seem to help much. When the spell touched her finger, Susan screamed out loud. “No! Please! Oh God! It hurts!” She continued, trying to wriggle free and scream as her finger was slowly and excruciatingly painfully sliced off.
-- Rodolphus stood back, his arms crossed over his chest, and watched as Hestia worked over Susan. His fingers itched at the sight of Hestia's handiwork - he was always a fan of such visceral torture. The smell of blood and Susan's screams filled him with excitement. Everything was moving along well, but once the finger was off, it seemed that Hestia hesitated, perhaps panicked. "I assume you don't know how to stop the blood," he said, not even asking as a question. He moved closer to the pair, ignoring Susan's cries as if she wasn't even there. "It's Vulnera Sanentur. Say it very firmly, or it won't work," he said, showing her the motion with her wand. He demonstrated, closing the wound on Susan's hand, leaving her with four fingers and an elegantly clean stump. "It takes quite a while to learn to make it so smooth, but you shall have plenty of time to practice. Would you like to try again? We can put the finger back on, if you like."
-- Hestia’s problem hadn’t been with the blood, per se, as much as it had been with the sheer volume of it, and what that would mean for keeping Susan alive. She took out a handkerchief and picked up the little digit, examining it with mild interest before holding it back against the stump. “Next time,” she decided. “I’ll remember - vulnera sanentur - but it is in both of our best interests to get on with the task at hand. The sooner that idiot is out of the Minister’s chair, the sooner we can start to get the world back on track.”
She took a small, ornately carved ring box out of her pocket. Inside was a simple silver ring, and it was inside this ring that she placed the finger. “See, how pretty?” she said to Rodolphus in a tone that was almost teasing. “And the best thing about sending fingers, is that she has ten of them.” She laughed as she straightened up.
--
Rodolphus nodded, crossing his arms again. "I sent the last note, but this is your task, Miss Carrow. If you want more attention this time around, think about what you can do to ensure this is paid better attention to. Your efforts thus far have been impressive. I believe even the young Miss Bones here can attest that you have left a lasting impression." Rodolphus looked briefly at the girl that was still chained to the basement wall. He felt a little thrill that he was able to give Hestia the space to work and show what she was capable of. He furrowed his brow and thought a moment, wanting to clear something up. "And remember, you want enough attention that Bones steps down, but not enough that the whole wizarding world is involved. We don't want Aurors or Hit Wizards crawling all over here. Keep that in mind," he said, rubbing between his brow.
"I"m going back upstairs. I'll have the house elves send her down some bread and water. If you'd like more time to practice, go ahead. But at minimum, figure out what you want in this letter to start getting more results."
-- Hestia took the little box that contained the finger and secreted it away in her robes. “I really think you ought to worry,” she said calmly. “My parents, my relatives, if they were sent a lock of my hair, would have jumped to either give my kidnappers what they wanted, or else find me and exact retribution. Your aunt seems to care more about a bunch of faceless magical strangers than she does about you.”
The letter would be a problem, and as she summoned the necessary parchment and quill she pondered what exactly to say.
“This is your niece’s finger. How easy it was to just remove it, and send it to you with our regards! One wonders if her head will lend itself to such fuss-free removal. Step down, Madam Bones. From here on, every drop of her blood that is spilled is on your hands.” Hestia read her words aloud as she wrote them in bold, block letters, not at all like her own handwriting.
Satisfied with the letter she rolled it up and smirked at Susan. “Have a nice day,” she sneered as she made her way upstairs.