Tia Jones (healsyou) wrote in cm_logs, @ 2010-01-26 14:31:00 |
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There were very few permanent residents of Project Utopia, and those who were there for what should be the remainder of their lives as wizards and witches were not living in the lap of luxury. Their cells had conjured beds to sleep on, but there was little or nothing to pass the time with and the meals, when they were provided, were nutritious enough to keep body and soul together but not much more. Occasionally one of the prisoners would be removed for experimentation, but that generally involved a blank period of unconsciousness that was no cure for the general tedium of prison life. So it was undoubtedly a surprise to Hestia Jones when the door to her cell opened and the scrape of a metal pan across the floor or the flash of a stunner didn't immediately follow. Instead, one of her jailers stepped into the cell with a tray that looked and smelled more appetising than anything Hestia had enjoyed for a while. "Miss Jones," Augustus Rookwood said, "I've brought your dinner." Tia didn't know how long she'd been here. Truthfully, she didn't even know why she was her - people didn't speak to her, and then there were periods of darkness. They were generally followed by an incredible soreness or wounds or unexplainable bruises, but they didn't explain anything. Even with her training as a Medi-witch, the injuries were unexplainable, and she couldn't do much to heal them without her wand. She estimated she had been here around 2 months, maybe three, but with her periods of blackness, she didn't know how many days she had lost. There was also the screaming. She knew there were others here, but when they tried to speak to one another, they had to do so in hushed tones. She'd gotten that there was a Jules here, though she hadn't known him before this. He had been missing for a few days now, and she could only hope he was all right. The smell of food and the gentle words brought her around from her daydreaming state - the only way she was able to get through her days (or nights, as it were. She wasn't sure in the darkness). There was light and food that smelled better than anything she had ever eaten. She felt like she recognized the face, but she couldn't place it - and she didn't know if it was from before or after her captivity. "Who are you?" she asked, smoothing her dirty brown hair away from her face, but scooting further away on the uncomfortable cot provided for her, "Please let me go." "I'm afraid I can't do that," Augustus said, "but I do want to help you." He offered her the tray. The stew was fresh; he'd had Scatchy prepare it earlier in the day. The spoon wasn't from the house, of course, but it was at least transfigured properly so it wasn't rusty. And the canteen of water was fresh, not the stale stuff Hestia had had to drink over the last few months. "Go on," he encouraged her, "eat. And we can talk." "Why not?" she eyed the stew warily. Despite the fact that it made her mouth water and her stomach growl, she was hesitant to trust someone who was keeping her here against her will. She had been stunned enough times to know that the meal might have some sort of tranquilizer or poison in it. A kind face could hide malicious intent, after all. "Why should I even trust you?" "It's true that you have no reason to trust me, but since you are apparently in my power, you have no reason not to trust me for this." Augustus gestured slightly with the hand holding the tray. "If I intended to do you some immediate harm, I would already have done so. Nothing's stopping me. As a matter of strategy, there's nothing worse I can do to you by feeding you something you'll enjoy eating than I could do anyway without going to that much trouble. So why would I bother with apparent kindness if I meant to do you further harm?" He was interested in seeing whether she'd follow or agree with the logic. Sometimes the research left the subjects a bit--damaged was the best word. It was a shame what had happened to Lily Potter, how she'd been rendered unfit for further experimentation. He found himself hoping that the refinements to his work would spare this young woman. While, truthfully, she had no desire to trust him, her hunger and need for something to be good in a situation that seemed like an unending string of pain and fear took over. She finally reached forward and took the tray, placing it on the cot in front of her. She opened the canteen and sniffed the water before taking a long drink of the cool liquid. It satisfied her thirst unlike anything else that had been provided to her prior to that moment. Next was the stew, which was quite possibly the most incredible thing she had ever eaten. Without meaning to, she made a small sound of contentment and longing and took another few bites of the stew, but decided to slow down, wanting it to last for as long as possible. "Who are you?" she finally asked, taking another sip of the water, "Why can't you let me go?" "I can't release you until my work here is done, or my Lord allows your release. But I want that day to come sooner rather than later. As for who I am--I'm merely the least of the servants of a very great man: one of those who strives to achieve a great vision." Augustus wasn't ready to give his name yet, for all that he knew perfectly well he could Obliviate Hestia immediately. Repeated Obliviation increased the likelihood of brain damage. The fewer times he had to perform it on any of the subjects, the better. After all, if they were going to release Hestia back into the Muggle community, it was incumbent on them to do so in the best condition possible. Tia continued to eat, her brow furrowing at his words. His Lord? What did that even mean? She slowly took a bite as she mulled over what he said - taking into account that despite being asked more than once, he had yet to reveal his name - and then put the spoon down on the side of the bowl, bringing her knee up to tuck it against her chest. "What does your Lord want with me? Why would he allow me to be released eventually but won't let me go now?" "We want to learn something from you." Augustus said it as if it were perfectly normal to kidnap people for that purpose. "And you couldn't have just asked?" she said, her tone more snarky than she meant - but really? She went to take another bite of her stew but dropped her spoon loudly, her annoyance taking over her hunger. "'From' may be the wrong word," Augustus said, gesturing palms up in a way that acknowledged some of the justice of her implicit complaint. "Perhaps 'about' would be better. Tell me, Miss Jones, were you happy when you went to Hogwarts as a girl?" The question was, as far as she could tell, sincerely interested. "Again," she said, picking up her spoon again, "he could have just asked. Like you are now." As she considered his question, she took another bite of the stew, "Yes. I enjoyed it a lot. It was hard, of course, I mean - I didn't know anything about magic before I got to Hogwarts. But once I was there, it was like I'd found the part of myself I didn't know I'd always been missing." She picked up the bowl, savouring its warmth on her fingers and continued to eat and make comments after she'd swallowed. "Did you enjoy it?" she wanted to know as much about this man as she could... just in case she ever got out of this place. "Hogwarts, I mean. I'm assuming you went there?" Answering the question was probably a mistake, but Augustus did so anyway, nodding in response and settling into a more relaxed stance near the door. "I did, but I always knew I'd go, which is different. You chose to stay in the wizarding world when you left school. Isn't that hard for you? Being away from your parents and your family?" Her answer made sense on some level, because how could it not be better to be a witch than a Muggle? Wizarding society was better and even a lower place in it had to be better than a high place in the Muggle world. But Augustus was genuinely curious about how Hestia perceived these matters. She might like it, but that didn't mean it was truly good for her. "I still see my parents and my family. I have a little sister at Hogwarts, so it helps having someone else in the family who has magic," she finished off the stew and placed the empty bowl on the tray. She drew up her legs and wrapped her arms around her knees, leaning forward and facing him as they conversed. It was a bit uncomfortable, but it was the first real personal contact she's had in God knows how long. She needed human contact, no matter where it came from. "I couldn't imagine denying this part of myself, which is what I would be doing if I'd gone back to living in the Muggle world. Besides, I didn't have any muggle skills. I'd left it as a child - returning as an adult wouldn't work at all." That wasn't something Augustus had considered at all. He'd have to consider how to amend his plans to deal with that flaw. "How so?" he asked. There was no way he could set up a Muggle education program, nor was he interested in doing so, but there had to be something he could do to ease the readjustment of people like Hestia to their own society. "How could I possibly lead a successful life?" she said, as though everyone had to realize that one couldn't transition so easily from one world to the next in an actual functioning capacity, "in the Muggle world, one goes to University after our 'Hogwarts' - whatever school that ends up being. That or you go to a trade school or go into the military or go into the field of your choice. But you learn all those skills in the developing years - the years I spent studying magic." She took a sip of her water, pondering how she could possible return to living as a Muggle. She could pass, of course, but she'd never survive. "Besides, I don't have any documentation that I've been to school. I pretty much fell off the grid at 11. There's not exactly any way to go back without making a lot of people suspicious," her eyes narrowed and she looked at him with her own suspicion, "Why do you ask?" "Because I don't know anything about the Muggle world, not anything significant, and I'm curious. And I hoped you'd be kind enough to answer my questions." Augustus gave her the slightest of smiles, one in which the corners of his mouth curled up only a tiny bit. "What would you have done if you'd stayed in the Muggle world? Do you know?" "Fair enough," she said, and then wrinkled her nose at his second question, "I left at 11. At that age... everyone wants to be firemen or policemen or ridiculous things. I guess maybe a nurse -- the Muggle equivalent of what I do now as a Medi-witch. But... I don't really know. I don't even know if I'd be any good at the sciences. I'd only had basic science by the time I'd left." Augustus gave Hestia another slow nod. The more he heard, the more convinced he was becoming that Project Utopia had to succeed, and soon. It was horrible to Muggleborns to rip them away from the bosom of their family and thrust them into an alien world, forcing them to integrate so they could only return home with terrible difficulty. If they could just get to those children before they manifested any magic, none of this tragedy would be necessary. For Hestia, though, there was at least one other way out of the conundrum. "I suppose if you'd married, you wouldn't necessarily have a career. I mean, as a Muggle wife, not as a witch," he elaborated. Hestia's look of distaste couldn't be hidden even if she had tried, "And why would I want to do that? I have no desire to be nothing more than a wife to someone. Yes, I want to get married someday, but I imagine I'd want to marry someone who knows who and what I am. Not only a witch, but also a strong woman who isn't going to serve some man and upkeep his home and just bear him children. I want a career. I want to help people." A lot was coming together, and it was making her fear even worse. It didn't take a Ravenclaw to put together all of the pieces - and she was a former Ravenclaw, "Is that what your Lord wants?" she said with more than an ounce of disdain, "to send people like me, to send muggleborns back to where we came from?" The tone might have set another Death Eater off, but Augustus was more understanding than most of his colleagues. "It wouldn't do to send a witch into Muggle society. We have secrecy laws for a reason." "Plenty of wizards and witches survive just fine around muggles without setting off the secrecy laws," she countered, her fear and anxiety rising with every word the man spoke. "Why am I here?" she asked, her voice higher as she eyed him uncomfortably. She wasn't exactly sure she wanted to hear the answer... especially if her suspicions - based solely on what he was (and was not) telling her - were true. Augustus couldn't answer the question directly without Obliviating her immediately afterwards. He cocked his head slightly and looked at her. She was a bright girl; he was pretty sure she'd already figured it out. His silence was confirmation, and she finally looked down at her hands. In her mind, she had two options: fight and die, or agree and live. She couldn't imagine leaving the wizarding world, but maybe she wouldn't leave forever. Whatever was going on couldn't last forever, could it? She finally looked at him, her eyes full of tears, and worried her lips for a moment before speaking, "I don't want to die." She swallowed hard, "What can I do? For your Lord to release me?" "I don't want you to die either. It would make it easier for me if we could work on a conscious subject, though." Augustus straightened and extended a hand toward her, ready to brush her hair out of her face with his finger. "There might be some pain. I'd give you potions to prevent it, or at least ease it. Then, I hope, I can learn some things I currently don't understand and I can bring this project to successful completion. And release you. Alive." She almost flinched away from his touch, but somehow managed not to do so - she realized that fighting this man wasn't going to help her cause, wasn't going to help her live. She slowly, ever so slowly, nodded. "I'll do what you want," her blue eyes went to his and she worried her lip for a moment before speaking again, "Can I ask one more thing?" "You can ask," Augustus said as he completed the motion. It took him safely out of Hestia's personal space. "If I'm going to be conscious for longer periods of time, can I..." she reached up and touched the hair he had just caressed, aware of how... gentle and personal his touch had been. "Can I shower? At least somewhat regularly?" She wanted to ask for better food now as well, but she wasn't about to push her luck. Surviving this madness and at least being clean would have to be enough. Augustus wrinkled his nose a little. "Of course. I'll have to arrange for that, but at least for the moment--" He drew his wand and performed a couple of cleaning charms on the room and on her and her clothing. It wasn't enough to make her feel really clean, but it was definitely better than it had been before. Even a camp shower had to be better than simmering in her own juices any longer. No, she didn't feel entirely clean, but she did feel extraordinarily better. She didn't even know the last time she'd actually felt somewhat clean, so this was a much better feeling. She actually smiled and rubbed her hands over her much cleaner arms, "Thank you." She paused, knowing that her words had to be calculated now. Calculated and careful, "For everything. Your kindness. All of it." "You're welcome." He moved to the door, pausing for a moment on his way out. "I'll see if I can't arrange at least a tub for you tomorrow. I'll see you then, Miss Jones." It was going to take a while using carrots to obtain her wholehearted help, but he had made a good start today after a long period of demonstrating the stick. Augustus was already considering exactly how he could bring the most pressure to bear if he needed to, and the best rewards for compliance. Tia watched him as he left, and nodded stiffly at the mention of the tub. It wasn't until he was out the door and out of eyeshot that she shuddered and laid back on her somewhat clean cot, wondering what the hell she was going to endure. She couldn't say 'getting herself into' -- given the fact that she was locked behind a door and unable to 'get out' of this situation at all. |