Ravenclaw, Head of House, Short, Prompt: Igor Karkaroff, WC: 551

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"You will obey me, Igor," the Dark Lord hisses, features snakelike, the intention of cursing my very being clear in his eyes. In one hand is his wand. In the other, my wife's throat. She is at his complete mercy. Her brown hair falling from her updo, necklace pulled tight in an attempt to be free of him. Eyes holding more fear than I have ever felt in my life. "Or she will be the first of your family to go."

I choke on the words of pleading, desperate to have her near me, and to be farther away from him. Maybe I could escape to the Antarctic. But I am perfectly aware that he would reach me, no matter where I tried to hide. Slowly, painfully, I nod. For a moment, Mathilde's eyes linger on mine. Sharing a secret with me. Sharing something the Dark Lord knows nothing of...

Love.

"Give me your arm," he commands.

"What?" I ask, throat tight, hating myself. How could I let this happen to my family? We will never escape the clutches of the Dark Lord. I will never be able to live the life I intended for them.

My wife brushes her hand over the protruding bump on her stomach. I'm sorry, Mathilde. Merlin, I am so sorry. She nods, as though understanding.

I stretch out my forearm towards him.

In one fell swoop, he releases her and brands me. The pain is excruciating. Blindingly hot, then a burning ice-cold. My skin black and red and sore, he laughs cruelly at us; our pathetic appearance, he calls it. She is gasping for breath, struggling for the simplest of human experiences – living. My arm, searing hot. Worrying about my future more than I ever have. Because there is only one solution to all of this.

"Please, leave Mathilde out of this."

"Then leave her, Igor." His words are final, cold, unconcerned. "Leave her behind and think nothing more of her ever again. She is hardly worthy or helpful as she is." He glances disdainfully at my wife, at her pregnant state. "Wipe her memory."

A crashing realisation hits me harder than a thousand tonnes of bricks. My wife, the light in my life, my protector, my resolve would stay here, with my child growing inside of her. Mathilde would teach her to be wary of dark wizards, one of whom she would never learn is their father. And she would become older, and wiser, and stronger without me. I would never see that bright star in her turn into a burning, exploding supernova.

"Do it."

Her voice is like a knife to my almost frozen heart. I feel like I'm dying. Breath constricting, time slowing, life flashing before my eyes. Except, it's the life I will never have. Whatever I picture, my daughter is at the centre of it all, the incandescent light in a glowing solar system that is life.

"Igor," she says, eyes caught in my gaze like a rabbit in the wand-light. "It's okay. We'll be fine. Believe me, please. I love you."

I nod, unable to speak. The Dark Lord is watching me, seeing me process my emotions.

Labouring, I lift my wand, head filled with the intentions of the spell. To make sure it doesn't go awry.

"Obliviate."

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Thank you. And huge thank yous to Niamh, AJ, Alixx, and Andy for the betas. Y'all are amazing. The very best.