Transformations Chapter 14
Title: Transformations
Chapter: 14 - Resistance
Pairing: Harry/Ron
Rating: PG 13, possibly light R for violence
Summary: Oh just read it.
Warnings: AU, Torture
Disclaimer: The characters in this chapter belong to JKR, nobody's reading this...
A/N: Okay, I'm currently watching a documentary about how evil Wal-Mart is, so it's really hard to think of creative ways to say that sheepybunbuns and magicofisis are awesome.
Special Note: With the posting of this chapter, this fic is no longer a WIP. The last chapters will be posted within the half-hour.
Ron wasn’t going to give Filch the satisfaction of hearing him scream. He bit his lip as Filch clapped two more manacles on his ankles. Ron watched in fear as the old man walked over to the wall and turned another crank. Ron felt his legs spread apart and his wrists stretch even more. He gasped in pain before biting his lip again. He bit so hard that he tasted blood, coppery and warm on his tongue. Ron spit the blood out, and it landed in a splat on the clean floor. He looked over at Filch, whose eyes had widened at the sight of blood. The old man looked into Ron’s eyes with a rage that Ron could feel from across the room. Without a word, Filch turned the crank three more points and pulled a lever that Ron guessed was a lock. Ron’s legs were stretched painfully far apart. He winced, and cursed at the smile that crossed the old janitor’s face.
Filch picked up a knife from a nearby table and began walking towards Ron. He stopped halfway there and began stroking the knife against a leather sharpening strap. He spoke slowly, and his tone was barely controlled. His voice cracked several times.
“I’ve watched you, boy.”
The knife slipped back and forth against the leather, making a quiet grinding noise.
“I’ve watched you and your brat friends walking and laughing about.”
Filch stepped slowly towards Ron.
“I’ve watched you laughing at me.”
Ron moved to say no, but he was frozen with fear. He opened his mouth, and nothing came out. He wished for Harry and felt stronger. “No,” his voice cracked out.
Filch’s voice slid into the highest of registers as he screamed back. “NO!? DON’T YOU SAY NO TO ME, BOY!”
Filch sped the rest of the way over to Ron. He took the knife and sliced up the middle of Ron’s shirt. Buttons flew left and right as the knife cut easily up the middle of the shirt. Ron couldn’t hold back the scream as the knife caught the middle of his chest and made a cut against the bone between his ribs. Filch pulled the two parts of the shirt apart as the first rivulet of blood dripped down Ron’s bare chest. Ron breathed tightly and wished for Harry. Somewhere, far in the distance, he heard a clap of thunder.
Filch stepped back, away from the wall, and pulled a whip from a rack nearby. “You’re lucky, boy. I keep these clean and well trimmed. The ones in use have frays at the end.” Filch lashed the whip at air and continued talking.
“Extra strings for an extra sting, they’ll tell you. These are much too clean. It’ll take more lashes to get the same amount of pain.”
Filch whipped again, but it wasn’t air he hit this time. Ron screamed at the top of his lungs. The whip lashed against his bare skin, leaving an angry welt across his chest. One flap at the end finished its slap at the cut that Filch’s knife had made. Ron felt the cut tear, become deeper, and wider. A tear dropped from his right eye before he could stop it. The door shook on its hinges as a gust of wind rattled through. He wished for Harry deeply and tried to call his name, but no breath came out.
Filch let another lash loose on Ron’s chest and laughed as Ron screamed even louder.
“I watched you with that queer. Watched you hiding away in the room where you didn’t think anyone was watching. I saw you with that queer, sneaking about.”
Ron opened his eyes and stared into Filch’s. The fear that had filled them only a few minutes ago was replaced by anger. It was an anger Justin had given him; an anger at that word and the ideas behind it. The candles in the room shot flames two feet tall into the air, and the room became brighter. Filch paid no heed.
“I watched you with that know-it-all mudblood. Walking about as though you own my castle, when trash like her doesn’t even belong on the floors.”
Ron’s anger doubled. He looked at his torturer with furious eyes and spoke a single word.
“Squib.”
Filch’s eyes nearly popped out of his head, and he screamed. Ron knew Filch was completely out of control. He closed his eyes, but it didn’t numb the pain of the lash after lash that the old man let fly on Ron’s chest. It felt like an eternity of pain, but eventually Filch seemed to get tired, and the blows came slower. Finally, they stopped. Ron opened his eyes and looked at the old man. He was leaning against a device Ron was glad he didn’t recognize. Filch slid his sleeve against his mouth, wiping away drool that had dripped from his lips. It occurred to Ron that Filch hadn’t yet asked him any questions. Ron worried that Filch might have truth potions somewhere, so he decided to keep him off the topic of Harry.
“You’ll lose your job over this. When Dumbledore finds out, he’ll have you shipped out to Azkaban. Maybe there you can clean after the Dementors. Or do they even let Squibs into Wizard Prison?”
Filch ran towards Ron, dropping the bloody whip to the floor. He grabbed Ron’s throat with both hands and began to strangle him. Ron felt the world start spinning for lack of air. Just as things turned black, he heard a beautiful song. He felt Filch's hands leave as he lost consciousness.
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter: 14 - Resistance
Pairing: Harry/Ron
Rating: PG 13, possibly light R for violence
Summary: Oh just read it.
Warnings: AU, Torture
Disclaimer: The characters in this chapter belong to JKR, nobody's reading this...
A/N: Okay, I'm currently watching a documentary about how evil Wal-Mart is, so it's really hard to think of creative ways to say that sheepybunbuns and magicofisis are awesome.
Special Note: With the posting of this chapter, this fic is no longer a WIP. The last chapters will be posted within the half-hour.
Ron wasn’t going to give Filch the satisfaction of hearing him scream. He bit his lip as Filch clapped two more manacles on his ankles. Ron watched in fear as the old man walked over to the wall and turned another crank. Ron felt his legs spread apart and his wrists stretch even more. He gasped in pain before biting his lip again. He bit so hard that he tasted blood, coppery and warm on his tongue. Ron spit the blood out, and it landed in a splat on the clean floor. He looked over at Filch, whose eyes had widened at the sight of blood. The old man looked into Ron’s eyes with a rage that Ron could feel from across the room. Without a word, Filch turned the crank three more points and pulled a lever that Ron guessed was a lock. Ron’s legs were stretched painfully far apart. He winced, and cursed at the smile that crossed the old janitor’s face.
Filch picked up a knife from a nearby table and began walking towards Ron. He stopped halfway there and began stroking the knife against a leather sharpening strap. He spoke slowly, and his tone was barely controlled. His voice cracked several times.
“I’ve watched you, boy.”
The knife slipped back and forth against the leather, making a quiet grinding noise.
“I’ve watched you and your brat friends walking and laughing about.”
Filch stepped slowly towards Ron.
“I’ve watched you laughing at me.”
Ron moved to say no, but he was frozen with fear. He opened his mouth, and nothing came out. He wished for Harry and felt stronger. “No,” his voice cracked out.
Filch’s voice slid into the highest of registers as he screamed back. “NO!? DON’T YOU SAY NO TO ME, BOY!”
Filch sped the rest of the way over to Ron. He took the knife and sliced up the middle of Ron’s shirt. Buttons flew left and right as the knife cut easily up the middle of the shirt. Ron couldn’t hold back the scream as the knife caught the middle of his chest and made a cut against the bone between his ribs. Filch pulled the two parts of the shirt apart as the first rivulet of blood dripped down Ron’s bare chest. Ron breathed tightly and wished for Harry. Somewhere, far in the distance, he heard a clap of thunder.
Filch stepped back, away from the wall, and pulled a whip from a rack nearby. “You’re lucky, boy. I keep these clean and well trimmed. The ones in use have frays at the end.” Filch lashed the whip at air and continued talking.
“Extra strings for an extra sting, they’ll tell you. These are much too clean. It’ll take more lashes to get the same amount of pain.”
Filch whipped again, but it wasn’t air he hit this time. Ron screamed at the top of his lungs. The whip lashed against his bare skin, leaving an angry welt across his chest. One flap at the end finished its slap at the cut that Filch’s knife had made. Ron felt the cut tear, become deeper, and wider. A tear dropped from his right eye before he could stop it. The door shook on its hinges as a gust of wind rattled through. He wished for Harry deeply and tried to call his name, but no breath came out.
Filch let another lash loose on Ron’s chest and laughed as Ron screamed even louder.
“I watched you with that queer. Watched you hiding away in the room where you didn’t think anyone was watching. I saw you with that queer, sneaking about.”
Ron opened his eyes and stared into Filch’s. The fear that had filled them only a few minutes ago was replaced by anger. It was an anger Justin had given him; an anger at that word and the ideas behind it. The candles in the room shot flames two feet tall into the air, and the room became brighter. Filch paid no heed.
“I watched you with that know-it-all mudblood. Walking about as though you own my castle, when trash like her doesn’t even belong on the floors.”
Ron’s anger doubled. He looked at his torturer with furious eyes and spoke a single word.
“Squib.”
Filch’s eyes nearly popped out of his head, and he screamed. Ron knew Filch was completely out of control. He closed his eyes, but it didn’t numb the pain of the lash after lash that the old man let fly on Ron’s chest. It felt like an eternity of pain, but eventually Filch seemed to get tired, and the blows came slower. Finally, they stopped. Ron opened his eyes and looked at the old man. He was leaning against a device Ron was glad he didn’t recognize. Filch slid his sleeve against his mouth, wiping away drool that had dripped from his lips. It occurred to Ron that Filch hadn’t yet asked him any questions. Ron worried that Filch might have truth potions somewhere, so he decided to keep him off the topic of Harry.
“You’ll lose your job over this. When Dumbledore finds out, he’ll have you shipped out to Azkaban. Maybe there you can clean after the Dementors. Or do they even let Squibs into Wizard Prison?”
Filch ran towards Ron, dropping the bloody whip to the floor. He grabbed Ron’s throat with both hands and began to strangle him. Ron felt the world start spinning for lack of air. Just as things turned black, he heard a beautiful song. He felt Filch's hands leave as he lost consciousness.
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13