Fic: Information
Title:
Information
Author/Artist:
DHFiccer aka Lynn
Rating:
PG-13
Characters:
Gellert Grindelwald and unimportant OC
Disclaimer:
The character Gellert Grindelwald is owned by J. K. Rowling, the author of the Harry Potter stories. I am making no money off this writing.
Author's Note:
God its been awhile since I've written fanfiction! An interrogation in the basement of Nuremgard. Crossposted at the character journal
taintedintent. This has not been beta-read, sadly.
Information
Nuremgard stood, isolated, in the German countryside. It was an imposing structure, modeled after the ancient fortresses. Every window had bars, and there was only one visible entrance, a pair of heavy doors that looked as if they would have taken four strong men each to push open. As the sun rose over the horizon, a few shadows stirred behind the windows, and there was no sign of any guard of any sort.
A wizard of Gellert Grindelwald's skill did not need guards to protect his prison, his vision.
The very man who had constructed the prison for all those who would oppose him was also the only soul that knew how to enter the fortress without opening the heavy doors, which opened upon his command only once he was inside. In the dead of night, he had commanded the doors open and four of his elect guard had led a Muggle prisoner into the fortress.
The entire first floor was open and empty save for two flights of stairs, one leading up and the other leading down. No one except the unfortunate, permanent prisoners of Nuremgard and its architect knew what occured in the floors above or the floor below. The guards had turned over their prisoner, and the mastermind of the prison and left.
When Jakob Weber regained conciousness, he could not say how he had passed out or how long he had been in the basement of Nuremgard. He knew where he was, only because, as his mind settled, he remembered entering the fortress, flanked by guards. He remembered another man a moment later, and he sat up.
Or as much as he could. He was already sitting, he found. Strong leather straps had been fastened around each of his wrists and another strap was on each forearm, just before the bend of the elbow. They held each of his arms firmly to an arm of the chair. His ankles and calves were similiarly bound to the solid base of the chair. A final strap came across his chest.
The man whose memory had flitted through Jakob's mind was in the room, directly within the prisoner's line of sight. He was also seated, but his posture was not restricted.
Jakob took a shuddering breath as the other man rose from his chair. He had been foolish to attempt an assassination of Gellert Grindelwald, armed with only knife. He had seen the things that this man could have done, but he'd had nothing else to try, so he had gambled, and he had lost. He tried tugging an arm free of its bonds, but they held strong.
A soft laugh left the regal mastermind. His hair was slicked back, away from his sharp-featured face, and his hazel eyes focused on the helpless man. In his hand, he held a thin piece of wood that someone who had never heard of him might have laughed at. Jakob, however, knew all too well what it was.
There was not a soul in Germany who did not know about Wizards now. Grindelwald had swept first through the Wizarding community and then through the Non-magical, 'Muggle' to the Wizards, community. He had toppled both governments and named himself the supreme power of the country.
Grindelwald glided over to Jakob, his lips twisted into a mockery of a smile, his eyes cold, dangerous. A red spark left the tip of his wand, and Jakob flinched, but no pain came. Not yet.
"You are bold, Herr Weber," Grindelwald murmured with a note of appreciation. "Few wizards have made an attempt such as yours, and even they were better armed. For a muggle to be so daring..." He left the thought unfinished, and the nail of his index finger trailed down the curve of Jakob's jaw.
Jakob was breathing heavily, and he was trying to cease the shaking of his hands.
"You did not act alone," Grindelwald told him. "Do not think I am so stupid as to believe that."
"I-I did," Jakob said. His voice was barely more than a whisper, and Grindelwald's eyes narrowed. The nails of his first, second, and third fingers dug into the back of Jakob's neck.
"Do not lie to me." After a moment, and receiving a quiet whimper of pain from Jakob, Grindelwald released the pressure and pulled his hand away from the other man's throat. "To have gained access to my office in the Ministry, you had to have help from one of my guards."
"N-no."
"Crucio." Grindelwald flicked his wand, and a jet of red flew from its tip. It struck Jakob in the chest, and the man screamed. He tried to thrash, the pain filling every part of him, but the restraints did their job. He was held in position, and only his head moved, neck throwing it back several times to hit the back of the chair. The wand was flicked again when tears had started to streak Jakob's face. "Now, Herr Weber," Grindelwald murmured with the utmost calm, "you were saying?"
Jakob's head had drooped forward, and he was breathing heavily. His body shook, but he forced himself to look up at Grindelwald. At those eyes that showed no remorse, no hesitance. The wand was still up, and Grindelwald's lips were parted ever so slightly, ready to pronounce another incantation.
"I--" Jakob hesitated. Grindelwald adjusted his grip on the wand the slightest bit. "I was." A blond brow arched. "I was helped. By one of your guards."
Grindelwald patted Jakob's cheek with just the tips of the fingers of his free hand, and he said, "Good, my boy. We make progress."
Jakob felt sick. He knew that he was signing another man's death warrant. The memory of that pain filled him, though, and he bowed his head.
"Who?"
The question made Jakob look up. He had known it was coming, but it still turned his blood to ice. He waited too long to speak, and Grindelwald's right hand snapped forward as the left held the wand at ready. The wizard's right hand curled around Jakob's throat, and Grindelwald took a step closer to the chair as he applied pressure.
He bent his head down, face only inches from Jakob's as his hand put more pressure on the muggle's throat. "Who?" he growled.
Jakob gasped for air, and he tried to will himself to remain silent. Better to die for the sake of a man who could do more to stop this madman than to sacrifice him as well. He tried to tell himself this as his world began to go dark and the room started to spin. He clawed at the arms of the chair.
He did not hear Grindelwald say the word, but he felt the same surge of pain, and he screamed, his head trying to thrash, but Grindelwald's hand stayed against his throat, restricting the flow of breath without entirely stopping it. When the pain ceased, the hand was gone from his throat, and Jakob did not know how long it had been. Seconds or minutes, he could not say. His mouth tasted of vomit, and he could not feel any particular part of his body. He knew only that everything hurt.
The blond tyrant was a few feet away, his wand pointed at his own arm, and his sleeve and hand were clean a moment later, though the smell of Jakob's vomit still hung in the air.
He looked at Jakob with the smile a wolf would give a lamb. He raised his wand and spoke before firing a stunning spell at Jakob, "Thank you, Herr Weber, for your information."
Information
Author/Artist:
DHFiccer aka Lynn
Rating:
PG-13
Characters:
Gellert Grindelwald and unimportant OC
Disclaimer:
The character Gellert Grindelwald is owned by J. K. Rowling, the author of the Harry Potter stories. I am making no money off this writing.
Author's Note:
God its been awhile since I've written fanfiction! An interrogation in the basement of Nuremgard. Crossposted at the character journal
taintedintent. This has not been beta-read, sadly.
Information
Nuremgard stood, isolated, in the German countryside. It was an imposing structure, modeled after the ancient fortresses. Every window had bars, and there was only one visible entrance, a pair of heavy doors that looked as if they would have taken four strong men each to push open. As the sun rose over the horizon, a few shadows stirred behind the windows, and there was no sign of any guard of any sort.
A wizard of Gellert Grindelwald's skill did not need guards to protect his prison, his vision.
The very man who had constructed the prison for all those who would oppose him was also the only soul that knew how to enter the fortress without opening the heavy doors, which opened upon his command only once he was inside. In the dead of night, he had commanded the doors open and four of his elect guard had led a Muggle prisoner into the fortress.
The entire first floor was open and empty save for two flights of stairs, one leading up and the other leading down. No one except the unfortunate, permanent prisoners of Nuremgard and its architect knew what occured in the floors above or the floor below. The guards had turned over their prisoner, and the mastermind of the prison and left.
When Jakob Weber regained conciousness, he could not say how he had passed out or how long he had been in the basement of Nuremgard. He knew where he was, only because, as his mind settled, he remembered entering the fortress, flanked by guards. He remembered another man a moment later, and he sat up.
Or as much as he could. He was already sitting, he found. Strong leather straps had been fastened around each of his wrists and another strap was on each forearm, just before the bend of the elbow. They held each of his arms firmly to an arm of the chair. His ankles and calves were similiarly bound to the solid base of the chair. A final strap came across his chest.
The man whose memory had flitted through Jakob's mind was in the room, directly within the prisoner's line of sight. He was also seated, but his posture was not restricted.
Jakob took a shuddering breath as the other man rose from his chair. He had been foolish to attempt an assassination of Gellert Grindelwald, armed with only knife. He had seen the things that this man could have done, but he'd had nothing else to try, so he had gambled, and he had lost. He tried tugging an arm free of its bonds, but they held strong.
A soft laugh left the regal mastermind. His hair was slicked back, away from his sharp-featured face, and his hazel eyes focused on the helpless man. In his hand, he held a thin piece of wood that someone who had never heard of him might have laughed at. Jakob, however, knew all too well what it was.
There was not a soul in Germany who did not know about Wizards now. Grindelwald had swept first through the Wizarding community and then through the Non-magical, 'Muggle' to the Wizards, community. He had toppled both governments and named himself the supreme power of the country.
Grindelwald glided over to Jakob, his lips twisted into a mockery of a smile, his eyes cold, dangerous. A red spark left the tip of his wand, and Jakob flinched, but no pain came. Not yet.
"You are bold, Herr Weber," Grindelwald murmured with a note of appreciation. "Few wizards have made an attempt such as yours, and even they were better armed. For a muggle to be so daring..." He left the thought unfinished, and the nail of his index finger trailed down the curve of Jakob's jaw.
Jakob was breathing heavily, and he was trying to cease the shaking of his hands.
"You did not act alone," Grindelwald told him. "Do not think I am so stupid as to believe that."
"I-I did," Jakob said. His voice was barely more than a whisper, and Grindelwald's eyes narrowed. The nails of his first, second, and third fingers dug into the back of Jakob's neck.
"Do not lie to me." After a moment, and receiving a quiet whimper of pain from Jakob, Grindelwald released the pressure and pulled his hand away from the other man's throat. "To have gained access to my office in the Ministry, you had to have help from one of my guards."
"N-no."
"Crucio." Grindelwald flicked his wand, and a jet of red flew from its tip. It struck Jakob in the chest, and the man screamed. He tried to thrash, the pain filling every part of him, but the restraints did their job. He was held in position, and only his head moved, neck throwing it back several times to hit the back of the chair. The wand was flicked again when tears had started to streak Jakob's face. "Now, Herr Weber," Grindelwald murmured with the utmost calm, "you were saying?"
Jakob's head had drooped forward, and he was breathing heavily. His body shook, but he forced himself to look up at Grindelwald. At those eyes that showed no remorse, no hesitance. The wand was still up, and Grindelwald's lips were parted ever so slightly, ready to pronounce another incantation.
"I--" Jakob hesitated. Grindelwald adjusted his grip on the wand the slightest bit. "I was." A blond brow arched. "I was helped. By one of your guards."
Grindelwald patted Jakob's cheek with just the tips of the fingers of his free hand, and he said, "Good, my boy. We make progress."
Jakob felt sick. He knew that he was signing another man's death warrant. The memory of that pain filled him, though, and he bowed his head.
"Who?"
The question made Jakob look up. He had known it was coming, but it still turned his blood to ice. He waited too long to speak, and Grindelwald's right hand snapped forward as the left held the wand at ready. The wizard's right hand curled around Jakob's throat, and Grindelwald took a step closer to the chair as he applied pressure.
He bent his head down, face only inches from Jakob's as his hand put more pressure on the muggle's throat. "Who?" he growled.
Jakob gasped for air, and he tried to will himself to remain silent. Better to die for the sake of a man who could do more to stop this madman than to sacrifice him as well. He tried to tell himself this as his world began to go dark and the room started to spin. He clawed at the arms of the chair.
He did not hear Grindelwald say the word, but he felt the same surge of pain, and he screamed, his head trying to thrash, but Grindelwald's hand stayed against his throat, restricting the flow of breath without entirely stopping it. When the pain ceased, the hand was gone from his throat, and Jakob did not know how long it had been. Seconds or minutes, he could not say. His mouth tasted of vomit, and he could not feel any particular part of his body. He knew only that everything hurt.
The blond tyrant was a few feet away, his wand pointed at his own arm, and his sleeve and hand were clean a moment later, though the smell of Jakob's vomit still hung in the air.
He looked at Jakob with the smile a wolf would give a lamb. He raised his wand and spoke before firing a stunning spell at Jakob, "Thank you, Herr Weber, for your information."