Chapter 6: Chapter 6

 

Disclaimer: I don't own anything. This story contains both plot and smut, situations only suitable for mature audiences.

 

Chapter 6– Torture.

 

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"GUAAAAAAAAAHHHH!"

 

"Hahaha, how many was that, Lockhart? Have you been keeping count?" Digby laughs, basking in my suffering after once more delivering a Curcio to my bound form. T-The pain, it is indescribable. I-I don't think I have ever actually known the true meaning of the word before this very moment. I-If anything, an entirely new word should be made to properly suit this new level of pain and suffering and a new curse for the bastard that inflicts such pain and torture.

 

B-But with this pain comes another feeling that I have never felt quite so clearly or with quite so much potency, this world I also think I have never felt the true meaning of. Hate. Pure hate. The people in my past life who I thought I hated, those people were practically my friends in comparison to the pure vitriol I feel for this fat despicable piece of shit in front of me. Never, not ever, have I dreamt of hurting another being so much and thought myself actually capable of it.

 

I want to cut the fat off of him and force-feed it to him, I want to remove his testicles and shove them down his throat, and when he shits them out, make him eat it again, I want to- "Ughh." A harsh sting scorches my cheek, interrupting my train of thought and bringing my attention to the vile animal standing in front of me.

 

"I believe I asked you a question, blondie. How many times have I cast the Crusiatos curse on you? It is in your best interest to remember. After all, I can only do 7 casts of the spell before marks start to be left on you from the curse, if I go over that number, well, the pain will become even worse, and while I would enjoy that, the marks left by the spell will ruin my plan. So, I ask again, how many?" He says calmly, assured that everything is in hand, and honestly, I can't refute that.

 

He is in charge here; I have nothing I can do to get out of this except knocking over the chair, but he is right here, and he has his wand on him. So even if the chair does luckily break, I won't have the time to do anything before he uses his wand to restrain me again; I don't see a way out of this.

 

"F-Five. Y-You have cast the spell, f-five times." I sputter out despite my aching body, my voice raspy and dry as hell, my lungs hurt, and a whole host of other body parts are pulsating in pain. Still, if I don't talk, then he is just going to hit me again, or he is going to get the wrong number of times he has cast the Cruciatus curse and cause me even more pain diminishing my capabilities and chances to escape.

 

"Oh, that many already. I am so sad to see our time together coming to an end, Gilderoy; I will make sure to enjoy the short time we have left together. After all, I have to pay you back for all those years you took care of me. CRUCIO!" He roars; he doesn't even have to shout at all but doing so seems to give him some form of pleasure.

 

"AARRGgggghh." I begin to scream, but not wanting to give this mad man any more pleasure, I stifle my screams by gnashing my teeth together; blood leaks from my gums from my teeth being tightly clamped together. A pain worse than anything assaults my being, worse than one thousand white-hot knives boring into my skin and anything else that could possibly be imagined.

 

The worst part is that this spell does not actually cause any physical damage, at least on the surface. If I remember correctly, the curse assaults the nerves directly, which means it goes straight to the pain receptors and causes the utmost pain directly at the most vulnerable point.

 

"W-Why? W-Why are you doing this, Digby? I, I have never been anything but kind to you. W-when you needed a job, I gave you one. S-So why, why are you repaying my kindness with hatred?" I manage to eke out, asking a serious question that I have been contemplating ever since I first woke up strapped to this chair. I know he said that he was a follower of Voldemort, so Digby is obviously the scum of the earth, but that doesn't explain why he was targeting me.

 

"Why? Why? Well, I suppose I can humour you; it might be fun to tell you about all my achievements under the Dark Lord. Someone should know even if you are going to die. You see, I come from the Noble Pureblooded Digworth family. In fact, I was actually the last of the family as most of them had died under Gellert Grindelwald and the rest from old age. So I inherited everything though there wasn't much left in the bank as we invested our all with Grindelwald." Why the hell is he monologuing? Am I not in enough pain already?

 

"But what I did have was the patent to a potion, one of my ancestors had come up with the recipe, and every time someone bought that potion at a store, I received a portion of the profits. So the profit just appeared in my account at Gringotts until one day it didn't." He gnashes his teeth and fires off a curse at random, breaking an expensive-looking vase in the corner; catching himself, he casts a Reparo on the item and continues with his story.

 

"One day, I couldn't afford to purchase something at a particularly nice store. Not believing it, I travelled to Gringotts to sort out the problem, but when I got there, I was informed that my vault was empty, and in fact, I had been using money I didn't have. Those dirty little Goblins kept allowing me to purchase things without informing me of the problems with my vault, racking up debt with them, which they used to take all of my possessions, leaving me with nothing, not even the Digworth ancestral home." Boohoo, why is he telling me.

 

"It was only due to a friend, but I found out why I was put in this situation. A dirty little Mudblood had come up with a more efficient recipe for the potion my ancestors created, probably having slyly stolen it from a Pureblood. After submitting it to the ministry, the dirty thing was stealing all of my Galleons. Unfortunately, I found out too late." He sighs and takes a seat on my sofa, looking down and twiddling with the wand held in his palm.

 

"Me, a true wizard, cheated out of my birthright by a cunning underhanded Mudblood, I was deserted and destitute, and then, my saviour came for me. He had heard what had happened to me, how I had been unjustly treated, and he came to help me. The Dark Lord was my saviour in my moment of despair. When I was lost, he gave me direction and hope; he gave me something to believe in." Getting real zealous here.

 

"The Dark Lord led me to the house of that Mudblood, the home paid for with my money, and we attacked and raised it to the ground, and I made sure I paid that Mudblood and his Mudblood family back for his arrogance tenfold. But, unfortunately, the Mudblood died to his injuries before I could get him to sign the patent over to me; you see, I wasn't as familiar with torture as I am now." He smiles down at the wand in his hand with anger in his eyes, seeming to relish in those memories while simultaneously hating them with a passion; he is genuinely a psychopathic man.

 

"Since there was Mudblood died and so did his Mudblood spawns, there was no one to inherit the patent, and so the ministry claimed it and now receives those galleons, but I couldn't bring myself to care. I had a bigger purpose now, a greater destiny that made money worthless. So after that, I followed the Dark Lord and made it my very purpose for living to see the world he spoke of come to fruition, a world where Mudbloods knew their place, true wizards reigned supreme over every other lesser being that exists. We Purebloods stood at the top with our superior magic, exactly where we were always meant to be." A maniacal grin stretches across his face as he imagines his utopia, the same utopia he thought to be brought by Voldemort. At the same time, I know for a fact that Voldemort would have never brought such a vision to fruition as everyone would have been below him.

 

"But what does that have to do with me? Fine, you became a Death Eater under Volde-" "SHUT IT, SHUT YOUR MOUTH! YOU DON'T HAVE THE RIGHT TO SPEAK HIS NAME WITH YOUR DIRTY HALF-BLOOD MOUTH! YOUR MOTHER WAS A GREAT WITCH THAT TAUGHT AT HOGWARTS, EVEN TEACHING MYSELF AT ONE POINT, BUT THAT WAS UNTIL SHE REVEALED HERSELF AS THE BITCH SHE WAS. SHE BECAME A WHORE AND MARRIED A MUGGLE! YOU MAY HAVE LIED ABOUT IT IN YOUR BOOKS, BUT I HAVE BEEN WITH YOU FOR YEARS, AND I LEARNT THE TRUTH, YOUR WHOLE FAMILY IS DISGUSTING, AS ARE YOU!" He roars, interrupting me, angered at the mention of his lord from my lips and some underlying rage about the blood that runs through my veins.

 

I look at him, and he looks back into my eyes with murder in his own eyes. Cowed by the frightening gaze, I lower my head and refrain from speaking any longer. I don't want to limit the time I have left, so keeping him calm and telling his story is my best option; the longer I can prolong my life, the better chance I have of living through this and paying this bastard back tenfold.

 

"Ahem, now back to my story. I no longer cared about anything but furthering the Dark Lord's goals. Fighting under him was all I needed, and to be honest, I enjoyed torturing those unworthy of magic, Mudbloods and Bloodtraitors alike and massacring those little muggles. I furthered my skills and experimented with spells on them as well, which is how I know how many times I can cast the Cruciatus curse on you without leaving any damage and for how long as well. But everything changed the night of 31st of October 1981, Halloween, when the Dark Lord disappeared all because of the Potter brat, and after that, I had nothing." He looks genuinely mournful as he sits there contemplating, thinking about the man he followed and his disappearance with a sad look on his face, which I find hard to believe.

 

Still, I guess this guy was more gullible and had more faith than the other Death Eaters like Lucius Malfoy, so why the hell is he here and not with the other crazies locked up in Azkaban Prison?

 

"At the time, I was busy taking my time with some Blood Traitors and making sure they felt the full brunt of their folly, which meant I couldn't be there to aid my lord. I wasn't even there to attack the Longbottoms with the Lestranges being too busy with my work and only coming out of my torture room a full day later. By that time, it was too late; I tried to find the Potter Brat and fulfil my lord's last known goal, but I could find neither hide nor hair of the cursed spawn." His face becomes the picture of evil as pure vicious hatred appears on his face, the emotions he feels for Harry Potter being absurdly strong, being the cause of Voldemort's disappearance.

 

"I tried to contact the other Death Eaters for assistance, but the truly loyal ones were already in Azkaban and caught. The others managed to either escape the Aurors or were proclaimed under the Imperious curse; once more, I was lost. I surfed around through the homes of my fellow Death Eaters. Still, one by one, they kicked me out, only afraid that I would be caught by the Aurors and give them up, but apparently, after three years of being passed between them, I was no longer a concern for them, with too much time having elapsed since the Dark Lord's disappearance. So they all cut contact with me and threw me out onto the street." A look of disgust now crosses his face, no anger to be seen, just disgust for his fellow Death Eaters who have failed in some way in his eyes.

 

"I was out on the street with nothing to my name once more, and this time the Dark Lord was not there to lift me up. I lived a year with nothing and struggled to live every day with each of my former colleagues, cutting off any avenue I had to better my life. They were scared of me getting into a position of power but too afraid to take care of me permanently as the Dark Lord held particular favour for me, being his personal torturer." Pride mars his face as he thinks about his former position, completely dissolving the former anger he was feeling, taking pride in his work under Voldemort.

 

This man is so dumb; Digby had magic in his palm and couldn't even use it to survive without the aid of money, he is the reason he is in this mess, and it is not my fault if he is such an idiot.

 

"I think this is taking too long, so long story short. I was homeless, scraping around for food every day, and while I believed in the Dark Lord's mission, at that point in time, I did not have the luxury of upholding the dignity that came with it. Without the Dark Lord, I once more had to worry about money; it was unavoidable. And so I saw you one day at a book signing and eavesdropped about your exploits from your nearby fan. Having exhausted every other resource, I took a chance and asked you for a job, any job and surprisingly, you took me on. Even when my former colleagues gave you subtle threats, you ignored them and hired me as a photographer." At this point, his face has lost all emotion, his expression is stoic, and his voice level, telling the story with a clinical tone.

 

"Once more, I had been uplifted by a great and powerful wizard; I felt such joy and utter respect for you, the same respect I held for the Dark Lord. But it was displaced; I learned more and more about you over the years, and that respect faded. You stole your stories from other accomplished wizards; everything about you was false and a front. Even when I thought you were so powerful to ignore the threats of multiple houses of nobility, you were actually such a dunderhead that you didn't even register the dangers. But that was fine; I had a job and was earning money. So even if I felt a bit sick at the sight of you, I could hold on, and you were also an accomplished master of mind magic, which also held at least some merit." His face is still blank, and when he mentions the previous Gilderoy, I wince having those memories, though nothing he says yet seems to be the reason why he has decided to murder me.

 

"I worked for you; I bore the humiliation amassing all the money I could without alerting any of the righteous idiots in the ministry in preparation for when the Dark Lord would undoubtedly reappear because those traitors would not help him. Over time you gave me more and more responsibilities, foisting tasks on me that you didn't want to do, and I was fine with that as it allowed me to steal more from your coffers. Apart from handling all your appearances, I was even handling your mail, screening it for anything important and handling them, notifying you of anything important and sending all the fanmail to you after I had checked everything for curses." His blank expression slowly fades, the edges of his lips begin to turn downwards, and his eyebrows start to scrunch. The mention of the mail itself makes me wince as I remember the mail I had received from Hogwarts with their condolences for my mother's death.

 

"While sorting through your mail, I came across quite a lot of letters regarding a family member of yours. I set them all to the side to give to you later, but then I came upon a letter from your family stating your mother's death, my once teacher at Hogwarts. But the address was from nowhere I've ever heard of in the magical world, and it was from your father, your muggle father I had found after a little research."He suddenly stands up and strides to stand directly in front of me; he bent forward till his pudgy face was right up against mine, his stinking breath clogging up my nostrils.

 

"For a short time, I- I RESPECTED YOU! A DIRTY LITTLE HALF-BLOOD LIKE YOU, I THOUGHT YOU WERE A PUREBLOOD, BUT YOU WERE JUST A LIAR! I FEEL VIOLATED; YOU LIED ABOUT YOUR BLOOD AND TOOK ADVANTAGE OF ME, YOU FOUND ME AT MY LOWEST POINT, AND YOU USED ME. I THOUGHT OF YOU ON THE SAME LEVEL AS THE DARK LORD WHEN I MET YOU. I FEEL SO ASHAMED OF MYSELF, DISGUSTED WITH MYSELF BECAUSE OF YOU AND YOUR WHORE MOTHER!" He snarls, spitting all over my face, acting like he was a young drunk girl, which I took advantage of when in actuality, he is a fat middle-aged man with psychopathic tendencies with a hard-on for torture. I feel so misrepresented right now and scared because of Digby Delusional Digworth.

 

"I couldn't hold on anymore; I could no longer bear the humiliation of working under you, not when you had such disgusting blood. So I hid those letters and kept them from you, waiting for the perfect moment to torture you to death. Unfortunately, too many fans and people watched your movements, so I had to be more subtle. No longer wanting to rush your death, I had more time to think about your demise, and I realised that I still needed money to support the Dark Lord's mission when he returned. It wasn't hard to get you to make me the prime beneficiary of your will; I just used a quick quotes quill to write it out and then got your signature. You didn't even look, trusting me over all those years, and just signed it with all those other things I handed you." He regains his calm and stands back up to his full height, but he stays stood in front of me and looks down at me with a smirk, enjoying the expression on my face at the realisation he is the reason that I was unaware of my mother's death.

 

"But that must have been months ago; why are you only doing this now? Why have you waited all these months only to accost me now and kill me in my house, and I thought you weren't going to torture me and that you were going to kill me subtly?" I ask, perplexed; after all, I got here months ago, and on that day, I discovered my mother had died a month ago, meaning he could only have done what he was saying within the month between my mother's death and my appearance in this world, so why- oh, wait.

 

"You are such a fool, as always, Lockhart. Maybe this will refresh your memory, that day in the Leaky Cauldron where you told me about a fetching young thing you were courting, and I gave you some advice? Do you remember, Lockhart?" He says, an annoyed look on his face looking down at me like I am a fool, like I am the fool when he is the goddamn fool. So I try to search my mind for the memory, and I find it, but it is hazy, being absurdly close to the moment where Gilderoy was pushed aside, and I took over this body. So employing my Occlumency, I dive into my mind and find the memory, and then I focus intently on it to bring out its all.

 

---

 

Sitting in the Leaky Cauldron, I, the incredible Gilderoy Lockhart, had just finished a fan meeting in one of the upstairs rooms enlarged into a giant hall so all my fans could fit. So now I am sitting at a table in the pub enjoying a light meal and some wine to relax after such a hard day's work.

 

Digbeth is beside me, talking to me about some such nonsense or other. He is lucky that I am so magnanimous to hire him and lift him up from the beggar he was, I could easily do all of his work myself, after all, but the man needs the job.

 

"So if you can attend this gathering in Germany, we can garner much attention. With more reputation, we can spread your books even further than the English-speaking countries and have them translated for each country, spreading your stories far and wide." He is saying something to me, but my attention is drawn to the young blonde sitting at a table in the far corner of the room with all her friends.

 

She is chatting and giggling cutely while sometimes looking over at me and both of us staring into each other eyes, my charm on full display as I show her my dazzling smile.

 

"Yes, yes, that is great, Digbeth, just great. Get right on that, will you." I say, paying more attention to the beautiful creature in the corner than the pudgy man beside me.

 

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"My name is Digby, sir, Digby. I have told you that many times, you bastard." Digbeth responds though I am not really paying attention, he seems to whisper something at the end, but I really can't afford to waste any time on him, as that would risk the cute blonde girl not getting the full impact of my award-winning smile.

 

"Yes, yes, Digbeth. More importantly, do you see that gorgeous young girl over there, the one with the shiny blonde hair? She is a fan of mine, freshly graduated from Hogwarts, a Hufflepuff, and I arranged for us to meet later today. At the end of the night, she will be in my bed and spend the rest of the night with me. Such is the life of Gilderoy Lockhart, and this lucky girl gets to be in a small part of it." I say, just to get Digbeth to shut up and stop annoying me, along with the added benefit of seeing the envy on his face and the jealousy in his voice as he wishes that he could be in my position.

 

"Is that so, Mr Lockhart. Well then, perhaps I can be of assistance. I have recently heard from some friends of mine that a vial of dragon blood helps to promote nighttime activities, helping you last longer and have a lot more energy. I took the trouble of procuring myself some, but I, uh, I haven't had the opportunity to use it. Perhaps you will have better luck, sir." He finishes self-depreciatingly, pulling out a vial from his robes and passing it to me under the table. I suppose if he is telling the truth, then to wield such a thing in public would brew all sorts of rumours, good man Digbeth.

 

"Truly?" I ask, and he rapidly nods his head to my query. I quickly grab hold of the vial and stow it away in my robes; this will undoubtedly heat up tonight's encounter and make for a more pleasurable evening. I look over to the blonde Hogwarts graduate, and we catch each other's eye; I can not wait for tonight.

 

---

 

"You gave me dragon blood, saying that it was an aphrodisiac. Was that not dragon blood? Was it actually poison?" That was the lady I woke up with on my first day in this world, which means that Gilderoy did drink the dragon blood, and any idiot can tell it is dumb to drink an entire vial of dragon's blood as an aphrodisiac. But I make sure to ask if it was poison; after all, Gilderoy was not bright, and this man was very aware of that, so I have to keep the act going.

 

"It was not a poison; it was, in fact, an entire vial of dragon blood. And I did not lie about it being an aphrodisiac, but it was a one-use item as afterwards, you would die from the effects of the powerful blood within you. But, unfortunately, you did not use it for some reason, and afterwards, you lied about going to Antarctica and stayed in your home for months. Obviously, you had figured out my intentions and were cowering within your home, but the thought of your fame disappearing drove you to open the door when I threatened it, which proved to be your end." He says, still directly in front of me, but he begins to take a few short steps back.

 

With all this information, I have a clear timeline, Digby found out about Gilderoy's blood status, got him to sign a will, gave him dragons blood, Gilderoy drank it and had a heated moment with the young blonde but died in the middle of it, I took over and woke up.

 

However, the blood was still affecting me, so I didn't question anything and proceeded to hump the blonde to work off the effects of the blood and fell asleep. Digby visited, confused by me not dying. Still, I lied about Antarctica and shut the door on him, he has been trying to get me ever since, but since I locked myself up, he has had no purchase until now, that is.

 

"Well, this is the last one, Gilderoy, and then farewell. I can't say it was fun because it wasn't; it was hell, but at least your death will ease my suffering, and your money will also fill the gap. Crucio!" He shouts, and I scream in pain, not expecting the sudden curse to assault me.

 

Still, I clench my teeth together after a moment, accidentally biting my tongue and filling my mouth with the rich metallic taste of copper; the taste in my mouth brews an idea. I quickly opened my mouth and spit the blood out, hitting Digby's face as he was still standing close.

 

Acting quickly with Digby dazed, I muster all my strength to my legs and stand up off the floor with the chair still attached to my backside. I jump towards him, hoping to hit him, but he stumbles out of the way, realising what I am doing and trying to rub the blood from his face.

 

I land with a clatter and hear wood being broken; acting quickly before he is fully aware, I begin to test my bonds while on my side with the chair still attached and my hand on the back of the chair facing toward Digby and the fireplace.

 

Finding some slack, I begin to wriggle intensely to try and free my left hand from its bonds, and I start to get somewhere with it, my left hand now being somewhat free and stretching out onto the wooden floor. I hear Digby cursing behind me and rapidly stumbling around, trying to get the blood out of his eyes. Unfortunately, I have only managed to free my left arm when he gets some semblance of himself.

 

"LOCKHART, DO YOU THINK I AM AN IDIOT? I KNOW THE EXACT AMOUNT OF CURSES I HAVE CAST ON YOU, AND I KNOW YOU LIED EARLIER WHEN YOU SAID FIVE! I STILL HAVE ONE LEFT, AND I AM GOING TO MAKE SURE THIS ONE HURTS THE MOST. CRUCIO!" He thunders behind me, and intense pain impacts my entire being, worse than all the times before put together and lasting longer than them.

 

The pain increases until it hits a threshold, and something breaks within me, channelling all the pain inside me, I point my tied-up right hand behind me towards Digby, and I yell with all my might. "UP!"

 

The broom above the fireplace flies off the wall approaching Mach speeds and, with a meaty thunk, impacts the back of Digby's head, sending him to the floor, and the wand out of his hand sliding across the wooden floor.

 

It comes to a stop near my free hand, and I quickly begin to finger at it trying to pick it up, but it is just out of grasp, and I can hear clambering on the phone behind me, meaning Digby is still not out for the count.

 

"LOCKHART, YOU-"

 

Come on, come on.

 

"-BASTARD! I AM GOING-"

 

Please, I'm nearly there. I am touching it.

 

"-RIP YOU LIMB FROM LIMB! I DON'T-"

 

FUCK, FUCK FUCK, COME ON!

 

"-CARE ABOUT THE MONEY ANYMORE. I AM GOING TO-"

 

"STUPEFY!" I cast, his wand held tightly in my grasp and aimed at Digby, the red light impacts his struggling form, and he collapses back to the floor.

 

All tension leaves my body, and I stop moving. I am just lying there still strapped to the chair on my side, thanking Merlin that I am alive.

 

---

 

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