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"Stop… stop… Stop!" came the pained whimper—pleading, broken—echoing from the room.
Undoubtedly, it was Nymphadora, still bound to the wall, pleading for it all to stop.
She had no idea how long it had been since she was kidnapped from Diagon Alley. No clue how long she'd been stuck here, tied to that bloody wall. Time had blurred into nothing but pain… hours, days, years? It felt as though an eternity had passed… as the endless cycle of torment ripped through her mind, body, and soul again and again.
The defiance, the stubborn fire she'd shown at the start… it had all but burnt out. Now, all she could muster was a weak, pitiful whisper begging for it to end. "Please… stop… it hurts… I can't take it anymore… just finish me off already…"
And Drek did stop, though only for a moment. "Let's take a break," he muttered, lowering his wand to give her a bit of relief… a short, temporary pause from the agony. Just long enough for her to catch her breath, clear her head, and stop her from going completely mad or slipping into a blank, broken state… before he picked up right where he left off.
The same spells. The same agony. Her body writhed, twitched, and spasmed as another scream tore from her throat. He'd been doing it on repeat, over and over, like it was a game he never intended to stop playing.
Her lips quivered, her voice barely more than a whisper. "Please… just end it…"
Drek's grin stretched wider, his eyes gleaming with twisted delight. "End it? Oh, no, no, no," he purred, twirling his wand with a soft whirr. "You're my way to Andromeda, girl. You stay breathing."
He leaned in close, his breath hot and stinking of cheap whiskey against her face. "Besides… I'm rather enjoying this."
Then he straightened up, took a step back, and raised his wand. "Ready for another go?"
Before she could even brace herself, he hissed, "Crucio!"
"That's it! Sing for me!" he crowed in a voice laced with pure malice as he watched her scream and sob.
Her vision spun in a chaotic whirl of colours, her body thrashed helplessly against the ropes. She wanted to fade, to disappear into nothing—but the pain dragged her back, cruel and unforgiving, refusing to let her go.
As everything raged on, a low thud came from outside the room, which attracted Drek's attention. His wand faltered as the curse fizzled out with a sharp hiss, and he froze. His head snapped toward the door.
"What the bloody hell?" he growled, eyes narrowing. He glanced between Nymphadora and the doorway, before questioning tentatively. "Andromeda… that you?"
A voice came in response from the other side of the door, "Yeah… It's me…"
"Finally showed up, did you? Got my little message, then? I hope you didn't bring anyone with you…" said Drek, excited.
"I came alone…" came the voice after a brief pause.
"Very good… now be a good girl and step inside," Drek said with a laugh.
Meanwhile, Nymphadora's body slumped, still quivering from the aftershocks. Her breath came in shallow, ragged gasps. But in the midst of the pain, a spark of hope flickered; someone was here. Someone had come.
Her mum.
And that terrified her.
The words this monster had spat earlier echoed through her mind. She knew her mother, knew Andromeda would never risk her daughter's life, not if she was being held like this. Which could only mean one thing.
Whatever he'd threatened… it was going to happen.
"Mum… no… please… go… don't come here…" she tried to scream, tried to warn her.
As the person on the other side of the door heard that weak, broken cry, a voice called out, trembling with emotion. "Dora… oh, sweetheart… I'm so sorry you've had to go through this… I'm sorry… I'll save you, I promise. Everything's going to be alright…"
But her words were quickly drowned out by Drek's voice—loud, mocking, and cruel. "Andromeda… Andromeda… no point hiding behind that door. If you want your daughter to keep breathing, then open it, drop your wand, and step inside."
From beyond the door came the desperate reply: "Let her go… let Dora go, and I'll do whatever you want. Just… please, let her go…"
Drek chuckled darkly. "We're not here to talk about your terms. You'll do exactly what I say if you want your daughter to stay alive. If not… well, that's on you."
Silence followed. No response came from the other side of the door.
Drek let out a long, theatrical sigh. "Looks like I'm left with no other choice than…" he muttered darkly, raising his wand and pointing it at Nymphadora.
"Imperio!"
Instantly, the little girl's eyes glazed over, going dull and lifeless.
With a flick of his wand, the ropes binding her to the wall slithered loose—and though her body looked weak and battered, she didn't collapse.
No, under the control of the Imperius Curse, she landed silently on her feet, steady and obedient.
"Atta girl..." Drek muttered with a twisted grin as he flicked off the lamp, plunging the room into near darkness, just enough to make it tricky for anyone stepping in to spot where he was lurking.
Smirking, he stepped aside, positioning himself just out of sight, so if the door swung open, he wouldn't be seen straightaway, while he could clearly see the person. Hidden off to the side, his grin widened.
Then, with a flick of his wand and a hiss of cruelty, he shouted, "Crucio!"
Nymphadora instantly howled in pain, her scream ripping through the air.
Drek bellowed, "You hear that, Andromeda? That's the sound of your precious little brat screaming her lungs out! Now—step inside, and I'll free her from the pain… or stay out there and listen while I torture her to death, nice and slow. Your call."
Silence hung in the air, broken only by Nymphadora's agonised cries echoing through the room.
Then, at last, the person on the other side could take no more.
The door burst open.
And there she was—Andromeda with a desperate and tearful expression on her face, wand raised, and a fierce scowl as she shouted, "Expelliarmus!"
…
Let's rewind the clock a few seconds back to when Drek was still torturing Nymphadora.
In the guest room of the Tonks house, a sharp crack echoed through the air as three figures appeared out of thin air. They were none other than Andromeda, Rigel, and the old House Elf of the Noble House of Black… Kreacher.
The moment the three appeared, a low, pained cry reached their ears—it was coming from the upper floor.
Hearing it, Andromeda's face went pale. "He… he's torturing my Dora…" she whispered, panic rising in her voice as she rushed toward the stairs.
But Rigel caught her by the hand, stopping her. "Aunty, don't go charging in blindly."
"But… my daughter—" Andromeda began, her expression tight with fear and anguish.
"If you go rushing in like this, you'll never save her—or yourself," Rigel said firmly, his eyes cold and focused. "Stick to the plan."
Though clearly reluctant and desperate, Andromeda gave a small nod. "Alright…"
Rigel nodded back. "Good. Now, cast the Disillusionment Charm on me and Kreacher."
Andromeda raised her wand and murmured the incantation, "Camuflamora."
At once, under the spell's effect, the forms of Rigel and Kreacher became hazy, difficult to spot even though they were standing right there. They weren't completely invisible, of course; only some of the most powerful witches and wizards could manage true invisibility with this charm. And Andromeda, for all her talent, wasn't quite there. Still… it was good enough. Good enough to fool Drek while he is distracted by Andromeda.
Rigel gave a small nod of approval. "That'll do. Let's move."
Andromeda nodded, and the three of them began to make their way upstairs—she leading the way, with Rigel and Kreacher close behind.
With each step, each stair climbed, the sound of Nymphadora's cries grew louder—sharper. The pain in her daughter's voice was unbearable, and with every second, Andromeda grew angrier, more desperate… and more guilt-ridden.
She didn't even realise when the tears started spilling down her cheeks—until, in her frantic state, she tripped over a step.
Thud.
The sound echoed through the stairwell.
Rigel quickly reached out to steady her, stopping her from falling flat on her face. But his tone was sharp, clearly displeased. "What are you doing, Aunty? He'll know that—"
He didn't even get the chance to finish before a voice rang out from upstairs.
"Andromeda… that you?"
"—we're here," Rigel muttered, finishing his sentence with a grim look.
"S... sorry," Andromeda whispered, getting back to her feet, her voice barely audible, and replied to Drek upon Rigel's signal, "Yeah… It's me…"
Then came Drek's voice again, loud and excited. "Finally showed up, did you? Got my little message, then? I hope you didn't bring anyone with you…"
Andromeda glanced to her side, where Rigel and Kreacher stood hidden under the effects of the Disillusionment Charm, then called out, "I came alone…"
Soon after she had spoken those words, Drek's words came, "Very good… now be a good girl and step inside."
"Not yet…" whispered Rigel in a low voice, stopping her.
Andromeda clenched her teeth, holding herself back, but only for a moment. Her restraint shattered the instant her daughter's scream rang out.
"Mum… no… please… go… don't come here…"
The sound tore through her, and her heart trembled. "Dora… oh, sweetheart…" she whispered, voice thick with emotion. "I'm so sorry you've had to go through this. I'm sorry… I'll save you, I promise. Everything's going to be alright…"
But her words were quickly drowned out by Drek's voice—loud, mocking, and cruel. "Andromeda… Andromeda… no point hiding behind that door. If you want your daughter to keep breathing, open it, drop your wand, and step inside."
Desperation laced her voice as she pleaded, "Let her go… let Dora go, and I'll do whatever you want. Just… please, let her go…"
Drek gave a low, sinister chuckle. "We're not here to haggle over your terms. You'll do exactly as I say if you want your daughter to live. If not… well, that's on you."
Andromeda fell silent and took a step forward. "I'm going in…"
But Rigel grabbed her arm, holding her back. "Not yet… his wand's free right now. One wrong move and he could cast something that kills her. You want that?"
Andromeda clenched her fists, trembling with the urge to charge in, but forced herself to stop. Her breath hitched as she stayed put, the silence that followed pressing heavy in the air.
Drek, clearly displeased by the lack of response, let out an exaggerated sigh. "Looks like I've got no other choice than…"
A heavy silence hung in the air—then suddenly, the crack of a curse rang out, followed by a gut-wrenching scream. Her daughter's scream.
Andromeda's heart clenched. That raw, agonising cry tore through her, and she could take no more.
Drek's voice followed, cruel and mocking, twisting the knife. "You hear that, Andromeda? That's your precious little brat screaming her lungs out! Now—step inside and I'll spare her the pain… or stay out there and listen while I torture her to death, slow and proper. Your call."
"I'm going in…" Andromeda murmured softly to the air. This time, Rigel didn't stop her. Instead, he nodded and said quietly, "Keep him distracted long enough for Kreacher to grab her and Diapparate from the room."
Andromeda gave a subtle nod in reply, then raised her wand. With a quiet Alohomora, the door creaked open. Through the gloom, she caught the silhouette of someone standing just beyond the threshold. The shadows made it nearly impossible to tell who it was, but instinct kicked in—she didn't wait.
"Expelliarmus!" she cried, firing a spell through the narrow gap, convinced it had to be Drek waiting on the other side.
The red light of Andromeda's Expelliarmus shot through the air and struck the figure square in the chest—only it wasn't Drek. It was her daughter.
Nymphadora was blasted back, stumbling several steps before crashing against the wall with a dull thud.
Andromeda's heart dropped. Her face drained of colour, a sharp gasp escaped her lips. "Dora!" she cried, voice cracking with horror, her wand shaking in her hand.
Seizing the moment, Drek—hidden in the shadows—raised his wand and barked, "Expelliarmus!"
The spell struck Andromeda squarely. She stumbled backwards, her wand flying from her grip and landing neatly in Drek's waiting hand, his wicked grin stretching wider as he caught it.
Wand in hand, Drek sauntered over to her, step by deliberate step, his eyes locked onto her like a predator. He crouched in front of her, his gaze dripping with obsession. "Well… well… what do we have here," he murmured, almost mockingly.
Gripping her cheeks, he forced her to meet his gaze. "At long last…" he murmured, his voice low and laced with something vile, his hot breath washing over her face.
Andromeda shifted uncomfortably, muttering through gritted teeth, "Drek…"
But he didn't give a toss about her discomfort. Eyes locked on hers, he sneered, "Finally, there's no one left between us. Ted's long gone, and that brat of a daughter's under my Imperius curse. Now… no one can keep us apart."
Though every fibre of her being recoiled in disgust at his touch, Andromeda didn't dare push him away or defy him. The fear of what he might do to her daughter held her still. Not to mention, she had to buy some time for Kreacher to approach her daughter without alerting Drek. Swallowing hard, she spoke in a trembling whisper, "Let… let Dora go… release her… and I… I won't fight back. Just let my daughter go…"
Drek smirked wickedly. "Right… I suppose I should let her go, but…" He didn't. Instead, he grabbed Andromeda and forced her to face her daughter.
Then, turning to the girl, he asked mockingly, "Well then, answer me, you little bitch… should I let you go?"
Nymphadora, her eyes glazed and empty under the curse, slowly shook her head.
Drek chuckled darkly. "See? Doesn't look like she wants to be let go."
He leaned in, his lips nearly brushing Andromeda's ear as he whispered, "I promised her she'd watch everything… and I'm a man of my word. How can I let her go now, not when I haven't even ravished you right in front of her?"
Andromeda's face twisted in horror and revulsion. "You…"
"Oh, don't look so horrified," he purred. "This is what you always wanted, ain't it? You and me—together at last."
His eyes gleamed with flickers of madness that made her stomach turn. He yanked her closer, and she stumbled, her shoes scraping against the floor.
Andromeda's heart pounded in fear. She swallowed hard, "Drek, please," she whispered in desperation. "Let Dora go. You've got me, you don't need her." Her eyes flicked to Nymphadora. The girl's torn clothes barely concealed the bruises and gashes. The sight struck Andromeda like a knife; she'd failed to protect her daughter, utterly.
Drek gave a low chuckle. "Need her? Nah," he sneered, spinning Andromeda's wand between his fingers. "But she's my insurance, innit? And more importantly…" He spun Andromeda to face her daughter once more and flicked his wand toward the girl. "She makes this a right bit more fun."
Then, with a sharp hiss: "Kneel."
Nymphadora's body twitched under the curse, her legs folding beneath her with a dull thud, her knees scraping against the worn carpet.
Andromeda gasped, tears spilling freely down her cheeks. "No… Dora…" she croaked. She lunged, instinct taking over—but Drek snatched her back, wrapping an arm around her waist with a sharp tug.
"Stay put," he snarled, his wand now humming inches from her throat. "Or I'll have her screaming again—louder this time, and you don't want that, do you?"
While all this was going on, unnoticed by Drek, Kreacher, still cloaked under the Disillusionment Charm, crept step by step closer to Nymphadora.
Drek's eyes narrowed, his head tilting slightly, like he'd caught a whiff of something out of place. "You're awfully quiet, Andromeda," he muttered, suspicion curling through his tone. "Planning something, are we?"
He spun her around, wand jabbing towards her. "Don't try anything clever. I've got you both exactly where I want you." He leaned in close, voicing a vile whisper. "And soon… you'll be begging me, just like I always imagined."
Andromeda's stomach turned, every muscle taut with revulsion. But she didn't flinch—she couldn't. She had to buy them time. "Drek," she whispered in a deliberately soft and measured voice, "you don't have to do this. Let Dora go, and we can… talk."
The words felt like acid in her throat, but she forced them out, her eyes flicking briefly to where Rigel's outline shimmered faintly in the shadows.
Drek let out a high-pitched cackle, shrill and grating. "Talk?" he sneered. "Oh, we'll do more than talk." His grip loosened, sliding down her neck toward her robes, reaching out for the knots as though wanting to tear open the fabric clothing her. He had only just found the knot and was about to loosen it—
Then it happened.
A loud CREAK split the air.
Drek's head snapped round, eyes wide. "What the—?!" he barked, his wand swinging to the sound. "Who's there?!" But he didn't notice anyone, so with a flick, he cast, "Revelio!"
The shimmer dropped. An old house elf stood exposed by the spell, inches from Nymphadora.
Drek's eyes blazed. "You—!" He seemed to recall the identity of the House elf.
He fired without hesitation. A flash of green, Avada Kedavra, blasted across the room towards the house-elf. But Kreacher had already grabbed Nymphadora's hand.
With a sharp CRACK, the two vanished just in time, and the killing curse slammed into the wall behind them, exploding with a thunderous BOOM.
But that wasn't the end of it—far from it. Just as Drek's Killing Curse failed to hit the old house-elf and exploded into the wall, another sharp BANG ripped through the room.
Only this one didn't come from a wand.
It came from behind… from the doorway.
Not a spell, not magic—but the sound of a Muggle device. A small, compact machine held steady in Rigel's small hand. The size of the machine itself was bigger than his hand, but he still held it perfectly and pulled the trigger without hesitation, making the mechanism bark with deadly force, spitting out a bullet that tore through the air—
—and slammed straight into the back of Drek's skull.
Thud.
The first bang and thud was just the start. More followed in rapid bursts as Rigel emptied the entire cylinder—BANG-BANG-BANG!
Blood sprayed—splattered across the room, speckling the walls and soaking the carpet in a grim plip-plop rhythm. Drek's body jerked violently with each shot, the two wands in his hand slipped and clattered to the floor with a dull thunk. His eyes widened, a flicker of disbelief flashing across his face.
"Wh… what—?" he gasped, but it was too late. His knees buckled, and he collapsed face-first onto the floor, a lifeless heap, riddled with bullets to the skull.
Andromeda sat frozen, her breath caught in her throat, eyes fixed on Drek's crumpled body.
She turned to the doorway—there stood Rigel, calm and composed, lowering the Muggle firearm as he muttered with a grimace, "Bloody hell… that recoil's a killer…"
For someone his age, the kickback from the gun was no joke. Firing off several rounds in quick succession had left his arm aching, but now wasn't the time to dwell on it. With a sharp breath, he tucked the weapon back into the pocket of his robe as casually as if it were just another wand.
Then, stepping forward, he offered his hand to Andromeda. "Aunty…"
Andromeda didn't take his hand. She was too stunned to move—her eyes flicked from Rigel's outstretched fingers, the very ones that had just unleashed that strange magic, to the back of Drek's head, where whatever it was had torn through and left blood leaking out onto the floor.
After a long, heavy silence, she finally stammered, "He… he's…"
"Dead," Rigel said bluntly, giving the corpse a nudge with his foot to roll it over. Drek's lifeless face lolled into view, pale and empty.
"Dead?" she whispered, staring down at the man who had once haunted her life.
"Yeah," Rigel nodded, gazing at the corpse with unreadable eyes. Inwardly, he thought, 'Couldn't risk leaving him alive for a trial at Azkaban or alive long enough for you to notice that he is under the effect of Imperius.' He didn't make a habit of leaving loose ends.
Shaking his head, Rigel crouched down and picked up the two wands Drek had dropped. He slipped the man's wand into his robe and held out the other to Andromeda.
"Aunty… your wand."
"Huh? R–right…" Andromeda nodded, dazed, as she took it from him.
"You alright?" he asked, eyeing her shaken form.
"Y–yeah, I… I think so…" she stammered, slowly rising to her feet. Her eyes flicked about the room. "Dora…" she whispered, scanning the space where Nymphadora had stood only moments ago.
Brushing a tear from her cheek, she asked hurriedly, "Where is she? Where's Dora?"
"Kreacher's taken her," Rigel replied firmly. "As I told him, he should be waiting in the guest room at your house."
"G–guest room… right…" she muttered, then turned and dashed out without another word.
Rigel watched her go, then turned back to the bloodied corpse sprawled on the carpet. After a beat, he gave a curt order, "Kreacher."
The old house elf popped into the room with a soft crack and bowed low before Rigel, awaiting instruction.
Rigel nodded toward the body. "Move him to my lab. Might have a closer look at him later. And clean this place up—every trace. Blood, gore, anything."
"Kreacher understands…" the elf murmured with a nod.
Rigel gave the corpse one last glance, then swept from the room to catch up with Andromeda and check on her and Dora in the guest room.
After all, now was the time to comfort Andromeda—she'd be blaming herself for everything that happened to her daughter. It was the perfect moment to drive the nail into the coffin and make sure she was his… for good.
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That's it for this chapter. Hope you enjoyed reading this one!
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