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Tonks House, Somewhere in Southern England,
"Where… where am I?" Nymphadora murmured, opening her eyes and glancing around in confusion. A moment later, recognition dawned on her. "This is… Mum and Dad's room…"
She was in the master bedroom of the Tonks family home. The realisation left her stunned. "How did I get here?" she whispered. But no answer came.
The last thing she remembered was being in Diagon Alley, gazing at the pets through the display window… and now—now she was in her parents' bedroom, with no clue how she'd ended up there.
'I've got to ask Mum…' With that thought, she tried to turn towards the door, but her body wouldn't budge. She was frozen in place.
"Why… why can't I move?" she breathed, panic beginning to set in.
She looked down at her arms and legs, only to find them bound with ropes, each one tied to a corner of the wall opposite the bed. Her limbs were stretched apart, pinning her in the shape of an 'X' against the wall, leaving her completely immobile.
"Wh… what the bloody hell…?" she gasped. The last thing she'd expected was to find herself tied up like that. Panic set in as fear gripped her; she thrashed about, desperately trying to shake her hands and legs free, hoping to snap the ropes… but it was no use. The ropes didn't budge an inch, and her face twisted in horror as the realisation sank in, she was in serious trouble.
As she realized her situation, a voice came through the door, "Oh… it would appear that you have woken up, bitch…"
Hearing that voice, she froze and turned her head towards the door, and noticed a hooded man with dirty blonde hair. The moment she saw who was standing there, her eyes widened in shock, "Drek William…"
"You…" she breathed, as a flood of memories rushed back, memories of what had happened outside the Magical Menagerie as she had noticed the man walk up to her from behind, how she tried to draw her wand, and how she lost control of her body, and how exactly she turned up here, tied up to the wall of her parents' room.
"You… you used the Unforgivable Curse on me…"
"Glad you figured that out… saves me the trouble of explaining," Drek said, stepping slowly in front of her, a twisted grin spreading across his face.
"What… what do you want?" Nymphadora asked, fear creeping into her voice as she recoiled from that unsettling smile.
"What do I want? Well…" he murmured, raising his right hand and gripping her face tightly. His fingers dug into her cheeks, squashing them painfully and twisting her expression into one of agony.
"I'd quite like to hear you scream," he said darkly, then added, "You had the nerve to use that curse on me… I've got to get my revenge for that, haven't I?"
Nymphadora swallowed hard in fear, but even through the pain, she kept her eyes fixed on him, unflinching.
"Don't you dare look at me with those filthy eyes of yours, BITCH!" he snarled delivering a sharp slap across her face, cha!
Nymphadora's head snapped to the side from the force of the slap, a sharp sting spreading across her cheek. Her vision blurred for a moment, but she gritted her teeth, refusing to let the tears spill. She wouldn't give Drek the satisfaction. Her heart thudded in her chest, fear and fury battling within her, as she glared back at him.
"Think you're tough, do you, bitch?" Drek sneered, his voice thick with venom.
Nymphadora clenched her jaw and stayed silent, mind racing. She had to stay calm—had to think. There had to be a way out of this. Her wand… it wasn't on her. Drek must've taken it when he'd used the Imperius Curse to drag her here and tie her up like this. Her eyes flicked around the room, desperate to spot it—or anything that might give her even the slightest chance.
Drek caught the movement and let out a low, guttural laugh that made her skin crawl. "Looking for something, are we? Your wand?" He tapped the pocket of his cloak, where the faint outline of her wand was visible. "Don't worry, it's safe, for now. But you won't be needing it. Not for where this is going."
He leaned in close, his breath hot and sour with the stench of alcohol. "Let's see how long that bravado holds…"
With a wicked grin, he drew his wand, levelled it at her chest, and uttered the curse that made her blood run cold. "Crucio!"
Nymphadora's body jerked violently as the Cruciatus Curse struck her like a searing jolt, ripping through her nerves. Her muscles screamed, her bones felt as though they were being crushed under invisible weight, and her mind fractured under a deafening shriek of pain. She thrashed against the ropes, the coarse fibres scraping mercilessly against her wrists and ankles, but they held firm with a cruel creak. Her mouth opened in a soundless gasp, defiance buckling under the onslaught of agony flooding her senses.
Drek's twisted grin widened, eyes gleamed with a sickening glint. "That's it," he hissed as his wand thrummed with dark magic. "Scream for me, bitch."
And she did what he asked, as every bit of courage and defiance she had shown until a few moments ago broke away.
A raw, piercing scream tore from her throat, echoing off the walls in ragged waves as the curse burned through her. Her body convulsed, muscles spasmed violently, ropes bit deeper into her skin with every desperate, useless thrash. Her vision blurred into a chaotic whirl of colour, and pain roared through her like a crackling inferno.
In that moment, Nymphadora wanted it all to end—to black out, to disappear, to just die and be done with it. But that didn't happen… she didn't black out, she didn't die, and it didn't stop. And all it did was hurt her… her mind, her body, and her very soul, making her writhe in agony.
"Aaaahhhhhh!"
Drek watched her with sadistic delight, his eyes glowing with cruel satisfaction. "That's more like it," he sneered, licking his lips, "But… can't have you become a vegetable, can we?" he muttered, stopping the spell halfway as her body finally slumped, no longer thrashing.
She hung limp in the restraints, utterly spent, her limbs too weak to twitch, and only her lungs moved, expanding and retracting as she fought for every breath possible. Her eyes were glassy, and the tears she had fought so hard to hold back now streamed freely down her cheeks.
After all, she was just a teenage girl… a brave girl indeed, but still a very young girl who was unfamiliar with this type of cruelty. She has indeed heard about it… from the rumors, from the stories, from the newspaper… but that's it. She has never been the one to have witnessed it before her eyes, nor has she ever experienced… and now that she did… well… There's only so much pain someone her age could endure. Being hit with the Cruciatus Curse… it was far beyond what she could take. The sobs came, broken and helpless. "Uuaaah…"
She cried for help from the one and only person who could save her, "Mum… save me…"
"Shhh…" Drek didn't want to hear it. He clamped his hand over her mouth, his fingers splayed across her tear-streaked face, silencing her. Leaning in close, he whispered while staring straight into her eyes, "Shhhh… you can't cry yet…"
A twisted smile curled across his lips. "Not this early. I've only just begun…"
The fear in Nymphadora's eyes deepened, and Drek drank it in with sick pleasure.
"Don't worry, girl," he said softly, almost mockingly. "I'm not going to kill you. Oh no… that'd defeat the whole purpose of why I kidnapped you in the first place. No, I need you alive. You're my leverage on your mother. Because only with you breathing will your dear mother come crawling to me of her own volition… and only then will she surrender herself, and beg me… just like I want."
Nymphadora's stomach churned with horror. The reason she'd been kidnapped, the reason she was being tortured—it all came down to this man's twisted obsession with her mother. He was using her as leverage, trying to force himself into her mother's life.
The very thought made her sick.
"You… you make me sick…" she stuttered, voice trembling with fury and disgust.
Cha!
She'd barely gotten the words out when another slap cracked across her face. Her head snapped to the side from the blow, this one harder, sharper. Pain flared across her lip as it split open, blood beginning to trickle down her chin.
Drek grabbed her by the hair, yanking her head up and snarling right in her face. "I make you Sick? You're the one who makes me sick! Just the thought of having to keep you alive—a filthy little thing with that mudblood's blood running through your veins—turns my stomach! I can't for the life of me understand how Andromeda gave birth to scum like you. It takes every ounce of restraint not to strangle you where you hang… to finish you off the same way I killed that mudblood father of yours."
"Wh… what?" she gasped, her voice barely a whisper of disbelief. "K… killed Dad?"
Hearing her murmur, Drek suddenly froze, realising what he'd just admitted. He let go of her hair and stepped back, beginning to pace back and forth across the room, murmuring some incomprehensible words that she couldn't hear or understand.
But that didn't matter… because at this, her mind was too focused on one thing to care about anything else… Staring at him in disbelief, Nymphadora spoke, "Just now… You said you killed my Dad…"
"K–killed Ted… yeah," Drek stammered, then let out a twisted laugh. "That's right… I did. I was sick of watching him with Andromeda—my Andromeda! How could he take her from me? She was mine… always was. And he stole her. So… I killed him."
Nymphadora's breath caught in her throat. She struggled to take in what she was hearing. "But… but the report said it was heart failure in his sleep… so how…"
Drek threw his head back and laughed, loud and unhinged, as he stepped closer once more.
"Muggles are filthy creatures… but even they've brewed up a few useful potions over the years. It wasn't poison, or venom, or anything fancy. Just a simple little brew the body already makes on its own. I slipped him one dose—undetectable even by magic—and he died in his sleep, just like I planned. No one suspected a thing. No blame on me."
He spread his arms wide with a crazed grin.
"And look how well it worked. Dead as a doornail, and everyone bought the story! Ha… HAHAHAHA!"
He cackled like a madman, eyes gleaming with madness.
And looking at him laughing proudly like a madman for being the person to have killed her beloved father, Nymphadora's heart cracked like glass, her breath was caught in her throat with a sharp hitch. The words hit her like a punch—her father… murdered. His death was not a heart failure, not a peaceful death in his sleep, but a cold-blooded, calculated killing by this monster.
Her vision blurred as tears streamed freely down her bloodied chin, mixing with the steady drip from her split lip. Her body trembled in the ropes, not from pain now, but from a fierce, blazing fury that surged through her like wildfire.
"You… murderer," she rasped in a hoarse voice as every word scraped her throat. "You killed him… my dad…" Her tear-filled eyes locked onto Drek's, glaring through his gleeful madness. Her fists clenched as the ropes bit into her wrists, but the sting was nothing compared to the storm of grief and rage thundering in her chest.
Drek's cackle rang out, shrill and grating. "Oh, the look on your face!" he crowed, pacing the room with wild eyes. "Absolutely priceless! You really thought that filthy Mudblood just dropped dead in his sleep? Pathetic!"
He spun on his heel to face her with his wand. "Ted was filth—a grubby little Muggle who dared to lay hands on Andromeda, my Andromeda. So I wiped him out. Granted, I did it after 15 years, which I regret terribly as a filth like you was born because of this delay… but… better late than never. And, now… now that I've done it once. I'd do it again in a heartbeat if I have to."
Nymphadora's mind reeled. Flashes of her father's kind smile, his soft voice, the way he'd steadied her on a broomstick for the first time—all of it clashed violently with Drek's twisted confession. Her stomach churned, bile rising in her throat.
She yanked hard against the ropes, wrists burning, desperate to break free—to get at the monster who had taken her dad. "You… you'll pay for this, you'll pay for murdering Dad…" she growled, baring her teeth, as if willing to bite off his nose or claw out his eyes with them for revenge.
But before she could do that, Drek grabbed her by the hair and slammed her head against the wall. "Stay away from me, you filthy little animal," he snarled.
Her vision blurred, and she felt the room spin in circles as her consciousness began to slip. Yet even through the haze, she whispered again and again, voice weak but burning with hatred, "You'll pay for this…"
Drek snorted, a derisive pfft. "Pay? Me? And who's going to make me? You?" He sneered. "You're in no position to be mouthing off…"
He sauntered closer, lazily twirling his wand. "Your mum's next, you know. The moment she comes for you, I'll have her on her knees—begging me." And added with a twisted grin as he pointed at the bed in the room, "And you'll be right here to watch the whole thing as I'd ravage her on that very bed."
That vile, wretched smirk made her skin crawl.
Drek couldn't care less. He carried on in a voice dripping with malice, "But there's still a bit of time before that, before she arrives here… so, let's get back to where we left off—shall we? The Cruciatus…"
He raised his wand and aimed it squarely at Nymphadora. Then, to her horror, he re-uttered the most brutal of the Unforgivables. "Crucio!"
Pain tore through her once again as her body convulsed, writhing in sheer agony… but she didn't scream.
Even though it felt like a thousand white-hot blades were slicing through her flesh, even though it burned like a swarm of fire ants chewing at her skin, she didn't make a sound.
Instead, she gritted her teeth with every ounce of strength she had left, locked eyes with him… and spat a bloody, tear-streaked mix of saliva right in his face as though sending a silent message at his face: Do your worst.
"You filthy little—!" Drek snarled, his face twisting with disgust and fury as he wiped Nymphadora's bloody spit from his cheek with a rough swipe. He stared at the mess on his hand, his scowl deepening into something darker, a snarl of pure, unfiltered rage.
The distraction caused the spell to break. His wand hissed, the Cruciatus Curse fizzling out as the screeching torment stopped abruptly.
"You dare?" he bellowed, voice cracking with sheer fury.
Nymphadora slumped against the ropes, her body still shaking from the curse's aftershocks. Her chest rose and fell in ragged, broken breaths—huff, huff—but despite it all, a faint, bloody smirk tugged at her lips. Seeing him lose his temper filled her with grim satisfaction. Her eyes still burned with stubborn defiance. She'd spat in his face—again—and the look of stunned rage twisting his features was worth every bit of pain that'd follow.
With a roar, Drek lunged at her, seizing her throat in a crushing grip. His fingers dug deep into her skin. "You'll regret that, you filthy little brat," he hissed, breath hot and reeking, inches from her face.
Her vision blurred, lungs burning for air, but she didn't cry out. She clenched her jaw and stared straight into his eyes, silent but screaming defiance: Go on, then. Do your worst.
And he did.
Not by choking her to death… killing her was never the goal, never the task he'd been given when the imperius curse was cast on him. The task was to break her… to shatter her mind piece by piece, and that's what he did… using magic, painful, relentless magic, meant to hurt, to torment.
Cruel hexes, designed to hurt, not kill, ripped through her. Furious slashes tore across her arms, legs, chest, neck, and stomach, leaving behind cuts through which blood trickled in thin streams down her skin, soaking her clothes and dripping onto the floor, one drop at a time.
And the pain? It hit like a storm, relentless and overwhelming. This time, she couldn't hold it back. A scream burst from her lips before she had the chance to stop it.
"How's that, you filthy little wretch?" Drek barked, laughing as she writhed in agony.
Nymphadora gasped with fear, agony, and torment clear in her eyes, but even through it all, she tried to hold firm. Her voice came out hoarse and broken, yet stubborn, as if refusing to surrender. "Doesn't… huff... doesn't hurt that much…"
Her defiance only enraged him further. His sneer twisted into something uglier as he raised his wand once more. "Oh? Is that so…" he growled. "Well then—let's crank things up a bit, shall we?"
With that, he set to work doing exactly what he thought would finally break her… make her start begging.
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That's it for this chapter. Hope you enjoyed reading this one!
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