A/N: The idea for this story came to me randomly as I thought about what would happen to Dark Wizards in the Next Generation. Please tell me what you think. As always when I start a story, if this is awful or you don't like the plot, let me know and I can scrap it. Oppositely, if you like it you can let me know that as well!

This story is rated M for violence, attempted rape, substance abuse, and sexual content.

Yours,

MofDA

….

I stepped out of my house and pulled the scarf a little tighter around my neck. It was cold out for late October. I walked quietly through the dark streets, my way guided by the light from the lampposts. The crunch of dead leaves under my feet was the only sound that could be heard.

Despite the sinister sounding start of my story, my destination was innocent. My best friend's boyfriend had just broken up with her. I had snuck out of my house in the middle of the night to go comfort her. When you were seventeen and in love, heartbreak was just about the worst thing you could imagine happening.

Unfortunately, her house was a distance away from mine. A good twenty-five minute walk. However, if I took the short cut through the alley it would save me ten minutes. Ten minutes of being out in the frigid air and dark night. If it was daylight, I wouldn't hesitate to take the shortcut. But at night, you never know who you might encounter down there.

When I reached the place where I had to make my decision, I glanced up at the hospital to my right, feeling safe in front of the busy building, and then I peeked down the black alley. Groaning in frustration, I turned my feet in that direction and set off at a quick pace down the alley. 'Keep your head down, Le' I told myself as I marched bravely toward Willow's house.

That was when I heard the gruff voice from the shadows, "Are you a muggle, girl?" I ignored him, hoping foolishly that he wasn't talking to me anyway. I walked faster, almost running. A large hand wrapped around my wrist and spun me around to face him. There were three boys who didn't look much older than me.

Two of them I would have considered quite handsome if they weren't leering at me the way they were. It was one of the handsome ones who had hold of me. I tried to pull away from his grip, but it was useless. "Let me go," my voice was steady, confident, much more than I actually felt.

"My friend asked you a question," this boy's voice was smooth as silk. A gentle caress in the darkness that engulfed the four of us. It disgusted me to my core. It was too sweet. I glared but said nothing. He repeated the question the other boy had asked, "Are you a muggle?"

"I don't even know what that is," I said, hoping this was the right answer. Obviously these boys were looking for a muggle and as I didn't even know what that was I surely wasn't one.

The third boy who hadn't spoken yet laughed and pulled a long thin piece of wood from his pocket. Two of the boys were wearing old fashioned cloaks like you see in movies. The one who still had hold of me was wearing just plain jeans and a black sweater. "Filthy blood," he muttered.

He brought up the stick and I wondered wildly what he was planning on doing with it. Horrors raced through my mind and I prayed he wouldn't attempt to gouge my eyes out with the thing. I couldn't help it, I screamed.

"Silencio!" My voice was gone. I tried screaming again, but no noise came. I tried to pull away when a jet of light lit up the area and I fell to the ground, in more pain than I'd ever experienced before. How were they doing that? What were they doing? They all held pieces of wood now, but hadn't touched me with them.

I couldn't explain what happened even if I tried. Jets of light shot from the pieces of wood at me. When they reached me, different things happened. Once I seized up and couldn't move my own body. Another time I was lifted into the air, suspended upside down by an invisible force. Mostly there was pain. Cuts, burns, and more pain.

I thought I was going to die. My clothing was torn to shreds by this point as the boys laughed and jeered at me. Where were the police and why hadn't they come yet? Surely by now Willow would have realized something was wrong when I hadn't shown up at her place? As if on cue, I heard the sirens.

"Fuck," growled one of the boys, "It's those muggle Aurors."

"Quick, let's get out of here," another agreed.

I panicked. I didn't want the bastards to get away. I didn't want them to ever have the opportunity to do this to another person. Desperately, I lunged across the frozen ground and grabbed hold of one of their long cloaks.

They spun around and I felt a squeezing sensation. I couldn't breathe, I couldn't see or feel or anything. Was this dying? With a loud crack! I found that I could breathe again. Gasping, I clutched at my throat. "Why did you bring her?" one demanded.

"I didn't! She had a hold of me!"

"We'll teach her not to touch us," he hissed. I felt cold rough hands on my throat. Thinking he meant to strangle me, I reached up to pull his hands off of me with what little strength I had. Keep fighting. But to my surprise and terror, he didn't throttle me. He took hold of my shirt and tore it wide open, exposing my white cotton bra to all of them.

A bark of laughter. But it wasn't evil laughter this time, it was friendly laughter, and it was in the distance, but not too far away. "Damn it," said the boy who now had his hands on my breasts.

"We have to get out of here, I think that's an Auror."

Suddenly the boys were gone. They just disappeared. I groaned and let myself relax. I could feel blood seeping out of me onto the dirt covered ground. Wait – dirt? My eyes rolled slowly to take in my surroundings. I wasn't in the alley anymore. I was in a place I didn't recognize at all. There were shops and streetlights not too far away, but I didn't see any street signs. The warm friendly laughter I heard before was closer.

I wanted to cry out for help but I was so afraid. Where was I? How did I get here? I never left the alley. I was positive that I never blacked out, I could remember everything with perfect clarity. When I attempted, and failed, to sit up, I let out a sharp cry of pain. Dear Lord, I was going to die. I was so weak and so tired and blood was draining out of me. I could feel it's sticky hotness pooling around my body.

"Who's there?" a voice called. My eyes fluttered closed. "Oh Merlin," a voice breathed. He was right over top of me now. I hoped he would kill me fast, I just wanted it to be over and I didn't want to be raped. "I need to get you to the hospital," strong arms lifted me so carefully, so gently, that I wanted to weep because I was so touched by his kindness.

"No," I argued, barely able to speak in more than a hoarse whisper, "not the hospital. Please," I begged. I knew it was stupid. I knew that I was dying, but a part of me was okay with that. I was in so much pain. The real reason I didn't want to go to the hospital is because that was right where the boys had jumped me. Practically right in front of the hospital. What if they were still there? What if they came at me again? Worse, what if they saw me brought in and knew I was there? I felt sick at the idea.

Then everything went black.

…..

"I know," a voice was saying angrily, "but what was I supposed to do, dad? She panicked when I said I would take her to the hospital. Yeah, I know. I had a Healer come here and they fixed her right up. She's sleeping now. Alright, I'll let you know. Bye." Was he on the phone? I recognized his voice, it was the boy who had rescued me.

I stretched, testing how I felt. Fine. Shocked, I came to the realization that I felt perfectly fine. I opened my eyes to find that I was in a room I didn't recognize at all. It was a bright sitting room and I was lying on the couch with a blanket draped over me. I was dressed in an over-sized gray t-shirt and sweatpants that were so baggy they would probably drop to my ankles if I stood up.

A boy was on his knees in front of a fireplace. I pulled myself up into a sitting position to get a better look around. There was no television, but there was a coffee table. I peeked at the magazines but didn't recognize any of the titles. Witch Weekly, The Quibbler, Quaffle Keepers.

"Um, Hello," I said tentatively. The boy started. He jumped to his feet and turned to face me with a smile. I couldn't help but smile back. He had untidy black hair, round rimmed glasses that were slightly lopsided at the moment, bright almond shaped green eyes, and he was built like a bloody greek god.

"How are you feeling?" he rushed to my side, his hands fluttering over me as if he could help in some way.

"Great, actually," I admitted shyly as I folded my hands in my lap. "Thank you for taking care of me. Is this your home?"

"My flat, yeah," he said quickly, "I have a roommate, but he's out of town right now. What's your name?"

"Leona," I told him, stretching out my hand. He shook it politely and I added, "Leona Sands."

"My name is Al," he replied. I waited for him to tell me his last name, but he didn't. Instead, he asked, "What happened to you anyway?"

"I was jumped," I said immediately, "There were three blokes who attacked me."

"Where's your wand?" he asked.

"I'm sorry, my what?"

"Your wand," he said with a frown, "you do have one, don't you? Or are you underage?"

Confused, I stammered, "Well, I am underage. I'm only seventeen."

At this, Al looked like he as the one who was confused. "You're not…are you a muggle?"

I panicked. That word! I screamed, scrambling back, away from him. My eyes searched the room again and this time I saw it. The long thin piece of wood lying on the table. I screamed again, "Get away from me! Leave me alone!"

Al obediently stepped away from me, looking shocked. "I'm not going to hurt you," he said, "but what were you doing in Diagon Alley if you're a muggle?"

"I don't know what that means!" I cried, "Don't you people understand that? I don't know what a muggle is, I don't know what a Diagonal Alley is, and I just want to go home!"

"Calm down, Leona," Al's voice was soft and reassuring but did nothing to stop the panic that was overtaking every sense of my reasoning ability. My parents must be so scared by now. I had to get home to them.

Slowly, I asked, "Where are my clothes?"

"They were destroyed by the bastards who attacked you," said Al who was holding his hands up in surrender, "I didn't touch you, aside from lifting you off of the ground and bringing you here. I had a Healer-erm, a doctor, come here and, uh, fix you up."

Keeping my eyes on him the whole time, I got to my feet, holding onto the elastic band of the trousers I was wearing so they didn't slip down. "I'm leaving," I told him firmly.

"At least let me take you home," he insisted.

"So you can find out where I live? I don't think so," even as I said this, I silently cursed myself for having revealed my surname. Why had I been so stupid?

"I just want to make sure you're safe. Plus, you might be a long way from home."

"Where are we?" I asked as I moved so I was standing between him and the table where the thin piece of wood lay behind me.

"London," he said.

My insides squirmed. Yes, we were a good distance from my home. How had I gotten here? "I'll catch a train," I snapped.

"Without any money?"

"If you're so insistent on taking me home, then you can at least let me use your phone. So I can call my parents to come get me."

"I don't have a telephone."

"What do you mean you don't have a telephone? Have you been living under a rock? I don't believe this rubbish. You're lying. Everyone owns a phone! For goodness' sake, I just heard you talking on one."

"What? Oh! No, I was on the Floo Network."

"Don't insult my intelligence by making up words," I snapped, trying to be braver than I felt.

"I'm being honest, Leona. Please, I want to help."

"You've done enough," my body was trembling. I was so frightened of this boy I could hardly think straight. He must be in the same gang as the other boys. He used the same code word muggle and had the same odd wooden device.

"Here, take some money for the train," he reached into his pocket and I flinched. He noticed. "I'm just getting money," he said firmly. He pulled a pouch from his pocket and I frowned. Who carried money in a pouch? He handed me more than enough for a train ride to Bristol.

With a curt nod, I pulled on my shoes, which were next to the sofa, and reached for my jacket before I noticed that it was torn up pretty bad. Al sighed and held out a sweater to me. I took it gratefully and left without looking back.

The whole train ride home I kept going over the night again and again in my mind but I still couldn't figure out how I managed to find myself nearly two hours from home. Every time a man spoke to me, I flinched. It looked like I was going to have some form of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder after all.