She was tainted. That she knew. How could she not be, after everything that had happened to her? Though she maintained her dreamy persona, it was only on the outside; only for her friends and the countless others that had been hurt by the war. She had to keep a strong, seemingly unaffected image up for them. But, the truth was, she was affected. She had been Crucio'd, raped, beaten, and otherwise tortured throughout her stay at Malfoy Manor. Of course, only she and her captors knew this. She couldn't bring herself to share her story with anybody-to share the pain, hurt, abandonment that she had felt.
One of the worst things was-after feeling the sweet relief of being outside, relishing in the fresh breeze, warm sunshine, and fragrant air, tasting freedom after months of captivity-waking up with morning sickness. Not just once, but multiple times. A spell had revealed she was indeed pregnant. Who the father was she did not know nor did she want to know. As much as she was against abortions, she had had the baby taken care of.
She knew she couldn't face anybody knowing the knew what she had been subjected to. Knowing she was tainted. No, she would keep the painful knowledge to herself. She would have to face herself everyday knowing she killed an innocent child. It was better, she mused, than bringing the child into this world. His-his seed. Who knew if it was a seed of evil or good? She couldn't take that chance.
Not even her dad knew. How would he react knowing his Moon was tainted? That his light in the Dark was sullied by a shadow of the Dark itself? That his Luna was bringing a Death Eaters' child into this world. No, she could not do that. Not only would she be tainted, but she would be passing on that taint to her baby. Even if the little one had been unlike his father and like its' mother, the child would be a product of rape.
She could still taste the vile potions they had forced down her throat to give her more energy, more focus. They had not wanted her to lie there, docile as an old mother cow. They had wanted her to struggle. And struggle she did-at first. When she had finally realized it was what they wanted, she had given up. That was perhaps worse than being raped: knowing that she had stopped fighting back of her own accord. But she could not-would not-give them that satisfaction for anything in the world.
She was tainted, that she knew. The light inside her had been snuffed out; though she would never allow anybody to know that her days in Malfoy Manor had indeed done a number on her. She would pretend to still be that dreamy, serene girl who resolutely believed in nargles and Wrackspurts and the like. She would be strong for the wizarding world: she would not allow them to think her tainted.