Dark Lady

Chapter 10 ~ A Quest

In the bowels of the monastery, Liath was screaming as a vat of holy water boiled around his submerged naked body. His torturer, Optun Mooreshead had come up with this torment after nothing else worked. He had cut off fingers, toes, ripped out the demon's tongue, and even hacked off an entire hand, but the appendages grew back very quickly. He now had a collection of relics from the creature and kept them in a leather bag. They might prove useful.

"Who is she? Where is she, Hellspawn?" Optun yelled at the suffering demon. "Tell me and I will remove you from the vat!"

The monk then walked over to the wheel and turned it, so Liath's body was lifted out of the water and dangled above it, the demon breathing heavily, his wrists and ankles bound together. His chin dropped to his chest.

"Tell me her name, you cursed thing!" Optun hissed at him.

Liath looked at him, defeat in his multicolored eyes.

"Her name is—is Hermione Granger," he groaned.

"Where is her cursed abode?" Optun demanded.

"She lives in Britain."

"Britain? Britain is a large area. What part of Britain? You must be more specific!"

"England. Wizarding England," Liath replied thickly.

Optun stared at the creature.

"There are wizards in England?" the monk asked, amazed.

"And witches."

"Minions of Evil!" the monk breathed. "How can I find this place? I know you know how!"

Liath didn't answer him at first, and the monk turned the wheel, beginning to lower him back into the vat.

"Wait! Wait!" Liath implored him. The monk stopped.

"How do I find this wizarding England?" Optun demanded.

"My hand. The one you chopped off. Take it out of the bag," Liath said softly.

Optun left the wheel and walked over to a long table that held instruments of torture. The leather bag was there, pulled tightly closed with a drawstring. Optun opened the bag, looked inside it and pulled out Liath's dismembered body part. He stared at the gray, dead thing, then turned to the demon.

"How will this help me?" he asked.

"It retains a remnant of the witch's soul," the demon replied. "Hold it by the wrist straight in front of you and ask it to show you where Hermione Granger is."

Optun held the hand out, then said, "Where is that cursed woman?"

The hand didn't respond at first, then Optun felt it turn him toward the right. Then all but one of the fingers slowly curled under, the index finger pointing toward the door that led out of the dungeons.

"It will point the way," Liath said, defeat in his voice. "And it will get you through any magical areas, because it retains her magical signature. What most humans don't see, you will."

Optun smiled at the hand, then caressed the foul thing.

"Yes. This will prove to be quite helpful to me, Hellspawn," he said, replacing the hand in the bag, then walking back to the wheel. "You have been helpful as well—but it took too long to loosen your tongue. Here is your reward."

Liath screamed as the monk lowered him back into the holy water, then left the dungeons.

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"A quest, Optun?" Brother Cryptus repeated incredulously.

"A holy quest to find that abomination Liath has let loose on the world, Brother Cryptus," Optun replied, a crazed look in his eyes as he sat across from his fellow monk. He had a long staff in one hand, and the top of it was covered with a small burlap sack.

"How can you hope to find the woman?" Cryptus asked. "The world is a very large place."

"Witch, not woman. She's a witch. One of many, I believe. The demon revealed she lives in wizarding England, a foul, hidden place no doubt ruled by the Father of Lies. I have the means to enter it and mean to do it."

Optun pulled the sack off the top of his staff, revealing Liath's gray, disembodied hand. It had been attached to the staff with nails and leather bindings. Cryptus recoiled.

"What is that, Optun?"

"The demon's hand. It points the way," Optun breathed, willing it to do so. He didn't have to speak. The hand recognized him as its master. The fingers curled and the staff swerved toward the door. The hand pointed at it.

"A thing of evil," Cryptus breathed.

"It is born of evil, but will be used for good," Optun replied, pulling the burlap sack back over the hand.

"Where is Liath?" Cryptus asked, concerned for the demon.

"He is in the dungeons. Leave him there," Optun replied. "If you release him, he may flee. Leave him in torment. That is all his kind deserves. Eternal torment."

Cryptus frowned at him.

"Brother Optun, I placed Liath in your charge because you wanted information from him. You've gained that information. There is no need to continually make him suffer. We are monks, not the Inquisition."

"If I could kill him, I would. He doesn't deserve to exist. Leave him there, brother."

"You overstep your bounds, Optun. You are not the leader of this sect, I am. And I will not torture another living being. Liath's only sin is that he is what he is. He has done nothing to deserve this treatment."

"He deserves it because of what he is! Hellspawn. A minion of the enemy. He is Blasphemy made flesh!"

"He is a living creature with a mind, and now, a soul, Optun. You are no longer responsible for him! Depart the monastery and go on your 'quest!'"

Optun looked at Cryptus with an expression of abject hatred for a moment.

"I will, and I will not return until I have destroyed this Hermione Granger! If you coddle this demon, Cryptus, you will have gone against heaven itself! Keep that in mind."

Optun rose, Cryptus' eyes on him consideringly.

"You know, Optun, some of the most grievous sins ever committed have been done by those who believed they knew heaven's will," he said softly. "Mercy and humility are the gifts we are to share."

Optun snorted.

"I am a soldier for good. I was born for it. You worry about mercy and humility. I am the sword of Benevolence, and I mean to cut down the evil in our world. Farewell, Brother Cryptus."

With that, Optun left the office, collected some traveling money and started out on his quest to find the Dark Lady.

Brother Cryptus quickly descended the stairs leading to the dungeons. He heard Liath's unearthly screams long before he reached him. The water around him was bubbling and steaming, the demon twisting in his bonds in agony as he suffered.

"My God," Cryptus breathed, making a sign, then running to the wheel and turning it to lift the demon out of the water. Liath stopped screaming, breathing heavily, water rolling down his nude body, still burning him, but not as much as full immersion.

Brother Cryptus pulled the heavy vat out of the way, then gently lowered Liath to the floor, pulling off his robe and using it to dry him. Liath might be a demon but he looked like a man, and Cryptus responded to him as if he were one. He had a soul after all.

"Your torment is over, Liath. Optun has departed. You are welcome to stay with us, or to leave if you wish. Your secret is safe. You are on the path of good. For a demon to turn from evil is a marvelous thing. We will help you if you accept our help," the monk said as he untied his hands and feet.

Liath looked up at him gratefully.

"Thank you," he rasped, his voice nearly gone from all the screaming.

"You are welcome, Brother Liath."

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"Hermione intends to kill five Death Eaters, Severus?" Albus asked him, his brow creased.

Snape, who was sitting in the headmaster's office, nodded somberly.

"Yes, to avenge Potter's and Weasley's deaths," the Potions master replied.

"This is a terrible thing. They should be tried," Albus said.

"Miss Granger has set herself up as judge, jury and executioner, Albus, much like Voldemort did when he reigned. She feels she has the same authority."

Albus drummed his fingers on the desktop thoughtfully, then looked up at Snape and started to say something. Snape held up one pale hand to stop him.

"Don't say it, Albus. I can't do it. I can't stop her and I won't attempt to do it. You're already asking me to do something that is nearly impossible in trying to elicit the growth of her soul. I am not going to put myself between the Dark Lady and her victims. It was likely that they would have received death sentences anyway if they had been tried. I'm not about to risk my own life to delay the inevitable. I'm sorry."

Albus sighed. He really did put Snape into one difficult situation. He was a very capable wizard, but he couldn't work miracles. Just magic.

"This will make her a murderer," Albus said softly.

"A murderer of murderers. It balances out. I saw you the day Potter and Weasley were killed, Headmaster. You had death in your eyes. If you could have apprehended their killers, you wouldn't have shown any mercy. Admit it, at least to yourself, if not me," Snape said, his eyes seeming to look inside the old wizard.

Albus' eyes glistened. Yes, he did have revenge in his heart that day, and for weeks afterward. He sent the Order far and wide looking for the Death Eaters, but they were well hidden. The orders were to bring them to Albus, alive.

They wouldn't have remained so. It was only when Hermione went mad that the old wizard realized the depth of his own hatred and pulled back from it. But Hermione hadn't pulled back. She dwelled in her hatred and used it to make herself more powerful and exact her revenge on Voldemort and his followers. For a moment, he was able to put himself in Hermione's shoes and understood her anger.

"Be sure to bring me a Pensieve of the deaths, Severus," he said heavily.

"I will, Albus."

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Hermione summoned her Death Eaters at precisely six o'clock. Snape arrived first, summoned by a gentle pulse. But, the Death Eaters that followed were crying out in pain as they arrived, clutching their marks and complaining in low voices that they hurt even worse than when Voldemort summoned them.

Apparently, Hermione could make the marks painful if she chose. Draco had also been spared the scorching pain of her summons, simply because he was already there. At least she allowed him to wear robes. Most of the time he was half-naked.

Hermione stared at the Death Eaters with distaste as they milled around, wearing their half masks.

"Take off those blasted masks!" she snarled at them.

They quickly obliged her. She straightened in her throne.

"Tonight, there's to be a bit of entertainment," she said, "and it will feature five Death Eaters of my choosing. Amycus and Alecto Carrow, Bellatrix LeStrange, Antonin Dolohov and Walden Macnair, come forward."

The Death Eaters all looked around. No one stirred.

"I know you're here. Come forward," Hermione hissed. "Don't make me pull you forward myself."

There was movement in the crowd as the five Death Eaters slowly moved through their comrades and emerged to stand in front of Hermione. She stared at them, her eyes reddening.

Bellatrix swallowed, knowing why they were called forward.

"We—we're were only following orders, my Lady," she said.

Hermione stared at her, then suddenly made a wavy motion with her hand. A large upholstery needle threaded with thick thread appeared in front of Bellatrix, then thrust itself in and out of her lips as the witch tried to scream, blood pouring down her chin as her mouth was painfully sewn shut.

"You will speak when spoken to," Hermione hissed as the needle tightened and tied off the stitches. It disappeared.

Snape shook his head slightly at the still bleeding witch.

This was not going to be pretty.

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A/N: Ouch! :::shudder::: Thanks for reading.