Another little disclaimer I forgot to make in the first chapter, and that's just that the characters here are pretty AU - Santana's grown up with Death Eaters for parents and that has certainly had an effect on her. Also this is the worst chapter in terms of angst I think.

Detention

November 1997

Santana never talks to me about anything serious now, but I hear other people talk. I know what they say she's doing. I know why Tina and Quinn won't speak to her anymore, and I'm terrified everyone is right. I try and tell myself that Santana wouldn't do those things – not my Santana. But sometimes at night, when she's asleep in my arms, I remember her cellar and how she hurt Neville and Tina. I'm scared for her. Scared where she's going, what she's becoming. So fucking scared… But, I have to be brave – I have to help her, as well as look after myself. She's always looked after me so well, so now it's my turn to be the strong one.

Except to help her, I have to know if the talk is true.

I try not to think about what I'm planning as I rise from my chair. Even though I don't think what everyone's saying about Santana is true, I know what Professor Carrow is like. I can feel Santana's eyes on me instantly, her hand scrabbling at my sleeve and trying to tug me back into my seat. I pull away, my feet moving across the small classroom to Professor Carrow's desk. She's watching now, daring me to step closer. I do, and her quill clicks against the desk as she drops it, leaning back in her chair. It's hard to breathe, and I can feel everyone watching.

"I don't understand."

She lifts one eyebrow, and it's enough to make me want to flee back to my seat. I open my mouth again instead, willing myself to speak. I can be strong.

"This doesn't make sense. This book. It's wrong."

"And what, precisely, is wrong about it?"

"Nothing," Santana's voice snaps behind me, her fingers clenching around my arm. She's trying to protect me again, even though I told her not to do that. "She's confused. I'll explain to her."

Professor Carrow's eyes are icy as she surveys us, considering. Santana is tense next to me, coiled up as tight as a spring.

"Be certain to explain very well, Lopez. I do not appreciate interruptions."

She's trying to lead me back to my seat, but I stiffen the muscles in my arm and don't let her. She turns, eyes wide and pleading. I'm not doing this to have her come and rescue me. I'm doing this to find out the truth.

"No."

Professor Carrow returns her gaze to me, curiosity shifting to something more resembling anger. Santana's nails dig into my skin.

"I know what the book's saying. It's wrong. Muggles aren't below wizards."

"Brittany-"

Santana's voice breaks and fades at the same time as the sharpened end of Professor Carrow's wand pokes at my throat.

"Are you trying to tell me I am the same as a muggle?" she whispers, leaning forward over her desk. She's standing now. I don't remember her standing. I gulp, and feel a twinge of pain as the wood scratches me. Santana's hold loosens, her fingers sliding down my arm to find my hand. I squeeze, drawing strength from her presence even though I know she's silently begging me to back down.

"No. I'm telling you you're worse than a muggle. Most of them, anyway. Because you think you're better. And you're not."

The pressure on my neck disappears, but then something hard knocks against the side of my face. My knees hit the ground and I don't know what's just happened, but my cheek is stinging and when I look up, Professor Carrow is towering over me, her hand still raised.

"Detention, Pierce. Tomorrow, in the dungeons. Get back to your seat, or do I have to put you there myself?"

I push myself up from the floor, my whole body shaking. No one's ever hit me before. I don't look back at Professor Carrow – I think if I do I might start crying. There are tears in my eyes already and I don't want her to see that I'm upset. I'm strong. I'm strong, and I can deal with this – because if what everyone's saying is right, I'm going to have to be really strong to get through detention.

It's done, though. I settle back in my seat, staring at my book. Santana's not even pretending to read; I can feel her watching me. She's shaking too. Her hand's trembling against my leg, and I reach out to take it. I'm sorry, Santana. I'm sorry, but I have to know…


There's a stench in the dungeon air. I don't know what it is, but it reminds me of Santana's cellar and just that memory makes me feel sick. One of the Gryffindor prefects is here too, and Dave Karofsky. I never liked him before. He pushes people around a lot, but he looks scared too. I wonder what he did to get detention – it looks like he's been fighting.

There's a creak, and the door swings open. The smell is worse now, and the prefect and Dave glance at each other before heading inside. I follow too. I can feel my heart beating really fast, but I'm here on purpose. I'm here to find out if the rumours are true. I can't back out now, even though my heart feels like it's going so fast it might pop.

"Get in 'ere Pierce," Filch snarls. He hasn't liked me ever since Third Year when he accused me of trying to steal Mrs Norris.

I hurry inside, but stop in the doorway when I see Santana there. She's not meant to be doing detention duty tonight. What if everyone's right? Will she do that to me? If she does it to everyone else too then why should I be any different? But she's staring at me and I can see she's been crying already.

"Along the wall," Filch orders, grabbing my shoulder and shoving me towards Karofsky and the other boy.

I stumble, knocking into Karofsky, but he doesn't yell like he would normally. He meets my eyes for a moment then helps me back to my feet, turning me so we're all in a line, facing Santana and Filch. Filch is grinning at Santana, his arms crossed.

"Well Lopez? You wanted to do this detention. Better get started, eh?"

She nods, fumbling for her wand. I've never seen her fumble for anything before.

"Colloportus."

It's whispered so quietly I'm not even sure what the spell is – but then something clamps around my wrists, pulling them up and yanking me back against the wall. When I look up there are manacles holding me in place. I clench my fists, forcing the shakiness out of myself. I won't shake. I'll be strong. Even though everything inside me is starting to realise that maybe this was a bad idea. No, not bad – stupid.

"Lopez get on with it, I'm gettin' bored here."

She's trying not to look at me, but every so often she does anyway, and the expression on her face makes me think even more than before that this was stupid.

"I thought… Doesn't Professor Carrow want the other Seventh Years to practice?" she muttered, starting to pace.

"The Professor didn't say anything like that to me. Get on with it!"

She squeezes her eyes shut, taking a few deep breaths, then seems to make a decision. She walks slowly, away from me, until she's standing right in front of the Gryffindor prefect. Her wand rises, her eyes close, and she whispers something even quieter than before. I don't know what it is – but then the boy starts screaming. I jump, knocking my head against the wall and instinctively trying to pull away, but the manacles cut into my wrists. He stops screaming after only a few seconds, but it seems to keep echoing around the dungeon in time with his whimpers. It's enough to confirm that everything I was told is true. I thought they were exaggerating. I thought they'd got it wrong. I thought Santana would never do that. Am I too late? Is my Santana already gone?

She's stepping over to Karofsky now, still not looking at me. This time I can hear the crucio as she whispers it. Karofsky doesn't scream, but he's shaking so much he knocks into me and he's breathing so fast and I can see tears. Karofsky's crying. Santana's hurting Karofsky so much she's making him cry. Karofsky. It stops suddenly, but Santana stays in front of him. But Filch doesn't let her stay – it's only a few seconds and then he's yelling from across the room again.

"Come on Lopez! Don't think your girlfriend gets off easy 'cause you're here. I'm still in charge."

I wince at his words. We'd given up on secrecy last year, but we still hadn't really been open about it. If Filch knew, that was going to make this even worse…

Santana steps in front of me, and this time she can't look away. She's crying again, and it's my fault, because I made this happen. But – she should be crying about Karofsky and the other boy too. Not just me. She'd just cruciated them. She could go to Azkaban for that! If… if things were normal, she'd go to Azkaban for that. But just because things weren't normal, that didn't mean this okay.

"Don't do this anymore, Santana," I whisper, hoping I'm quiet enough that Filch won't hear. He's glaring suspiciously at us, so I speak quicker. "You shouldn't do this. I know your parents say you should but they're wrong. This is wrong."

"I have to…"

"No you don't."

"I do. You don't get it. I just… I don't have a choice." She's staring at the wall next to my head, and her voice is dull. There's no fight. Where's my fighting Santana gone? When did she give in to this? How didn't I notice?

"You do!" I tell her again, louder, then I remember I'm meant to be quiet. "Please, Santana. For me."

"I can't."

"So why haven't you cruciated me yet? Like you did the others?" I demand. The sound of her giving up pierces my insides. I can't let her give up! "Are you going to hurt me? If you can't stop, you have to hurt me too. Like them. I'm just the same as them." I don't know if she'll hurt me. She never has before – she's always stopped other people from doing that. She hexed Jacob in Third Year for accidentally knocking me off my broom. But will she now, when she says she can't stop?

"Santana Lopez."

The frosty voice from the doorway sends a chill through me, and I just want to reach out and hold Santana close at the sight of Professor Carrow stepping into the room, her wand ready in one hand.

"What is this I hear about you not doing your Inquisitorial Squad duty? Everyone chained to that wall deserves the Cruciatus Curse. Do not disappoint me now."

"I… you said you wanted other students to do it!" she mutters, stumbling over her words. "The other Seventh Years. You wanted them to try it."

"Oh I do," she replies smoothly. "But not tonight. Tonight, I want you to do it all. You volunteered, after all. I would hate to report back to your parents that your eagerness was just to let off Miss Pierce easy. She must be punished for her impertinence."

"I…" Santana looks desperately between me and Professor Carrow, flinching into stillness when Professor Carrow marches forward. There's silence for a few seconds as they stare at each other.

"So. Your loyalty is not as strong as your father assured me," Professor Carrow hisses – and then the screaming starts.

I jump out to catch Santana as she falls but the manacles dig even deeper than before, cutting my skin as I keep struggling against them. Santana writhes on the floor, shouting much louder than the other boy had until finally, after far too long, Professor Carrow lifts her wand and the screams turn into muffled sobs.

"That is a true Cruciatus. Do I need to demonstrate again? Or perhaps I should dispose of your… distraction…"

"No!" Santana jerks to her feet, almost falling again but managing to stay standing. "She's not a distraction. It's not a problem, I'll do it now, in front of you!"

Professor Carrow raises a challenging eyebrow, and Santana freezes for a second before turning to face me again. The tears are more obvious now, but so is her raised wand.

I try and nod to her that it's okay, that I understand, but I'm not sure she even sees it. She just closes her eyes, then lifts her wand higher and whispers the word.

The pain rips through me and I bite my lip to stop myself screaming, so hard I can taste blood. I can't scream. I have to be strong. I can't scream. I have to be strong. I can't scream-

I gasp desperately for air as the pain lifts, sagging against the wall and just the chains holding me up. Someone's speaking, so I force my eyelids open again only to let out a sob at the sight of Professor Carrow grabbing Santana by the hair and pulling her away.

"-what your father says about your weakness-"

"But, Professor – what about detention?" Filch asks urgently, trailing after her.

"That's all today, I don't have time to deal with them," Professor Carrow shouts back as she drags Santana out of the room. I can hear the Gryffindor prefect sigh in relief at the same time as Filch starts muttering to himself, but all I can think about is the look on Santana's face as she was dragged away.


She finds me that night. I stayed in the library late on purpose hoping she'd look in the corner we always study in. I was right, thinking she would – but I'm not prepared for the sight of her limping towards me, all smart in what must be brand new robes but with cuts running down one side of her face.

"Santana what did they do? Who did it? I'm sorry… I'm sorry I was stupid, I shouldn't have, I just… I wanted to know if what people said was true, I didn't think it was and I didn't think you would and… I…"

I clutch her tight to me, not sure if I'm hanging onto her or if she's hanging onto me. I don't care. I just need her close. Having Santana close like this reminds me the old Santana must still be here – even though she's disguised by this new, scary Santana.

"You're not the same as them," she whispers, her fingers digging into my back.

I blink in confusion, trying to pull back to look at her, but she won't let me.

"I… what…? I am, I got detention just like-"

"You're not," Santana snaps, interrupting me. She pulls back this time, and I can see the tears glistening in her eyes again. "I can't imagine you're someone else!"

"…What?" I repeat. I don't understand what she's saying. Imagine I'm someone else?

"The others. All the others, I... curse. The ones who get detention. I pretend it's not them. That it's someone else. It's easier like that. But I can't with you, I can't forget who you are. Don't make me do that again! Please, Brittany, please… don't get detention," she mumbles, holding me close again.

"Don't do that again," I beg her, tears springing up in my own eyes. "Tell them you don't want to anymore!"

"I can't!" Santana cries out. "Look!" She pulls back, gesturing at her face. "They'll hurt me. They'll hurt you. They might kill you. Especially after this. That's what Papà said. I have to protect you!"

"And… and what about me protecting you?" I whisper, lifting a hand to gently touch the cuts on her face. She flinches, so I drop it to her shoulder instead.

"Let me do what I have to."

I stare down at the floor, remembering again the sound of the Gryffindor prefect screaming, and the feel of Karofsky thrashing next to me. "We…" I take a deep breath, trying to get strength from somewhere. I don't think I'm very good at being strong, but I have to keep trying. "We can't be anything, if you're doing that."

She steps back so fast my hand drops off her shoulder and falls back to my side.

"What? But – Brittany, I need you. Please."

"We can be friends. I'm not just leaving you. But… we can't be together. What you're doing… it's not right, Santana. You know that, right?"

I hold my breath waiting for an answer. If she doesn't know that, maybe it's already too late. But her head drops and once again there are tears on her face.

"I know… but… can't we still…?"

"No. Not until it's over."

She starts crying properly at that, and I fold her into my arms, trying to stop myself from crying as well. I cry anyway. I'm not sure if I was hoping for her to just stop at the threat of losing me. I don't want her hurting people. But I don't want her hurt either. If I could somehow get her away from Hogwarts, away from her parents and the Carrows and everyone else who supported You-Know-Who, it might be okay. But I don't know how to do that. We're stuck here, on opposite sides of a war… and who knows how long it will be before it ends?