dub con and non con warning for this chapter happy reading
I wake abruptly, in contrast to the slow rise to consciousness I had experienced earlier that morning. In alarm, I jump from the bed I'm in. My wand is nowhere to be found. I sit, disgruntled, back on the bed, anticipating someone's – probably one of Grindelwald's minions – arrival.
After minutes pass with no visitor, I find myself trying the bedroom door to no avail. The door is locked. I really wish I had my wand.
When I notice the stifling silence of the room, I try to otherwise occupy my awareness. I can hear occasional creaks when I adjust myself on the bed I've claimed vantage on. I notice the tall ceiling of the bedroom. I notice the dark green walls. On them, a solitary mirror with a thick gold frame, an empty portrait, and one small window. I refrain from looking out of it, because it makes no difference what I might see outside. For now, I just enjoy the soft white light that allows me vision.
Eventually, Grindelwald himself joins me. He does not knock. Instead, he strides purposefully in, waves a locking spell at the door, and stands at the foot of my bed. I become aware I'm referring to the bed as mine at that point.
"Technically, this bed is mine," he informs me.
"You read minds?" My voice comes out mechanically.
"Yes, I do." He confirms. Wasting little time, he continues, "You will attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. You will be my spy. You will do all the things that I ask of you. You will train with me for a matter of time-saving."
"Train with you?" I stand, but do not approach. "In which subjects? To what end?"
"Of course, I will be open to you interests, but my goal is for you to master Occlumency so that no one may read your thoughts."
Sensing I have nothing to say, he doesn't pause for me to interject any agreement or refusal.
"You have just short of a year to accomplish your goals."
I refrain from saying my goals are not his goals.
"Ah, but Uta, our goals are one and the same," he smirks.
I say nothing, yet.
"You will take the unbreakable vow."
At that, I startle. He looks into my panic-filled eyes with something akin to joy.
"You will take the vow or you will take the death curse."
I nod my consent and he summons a second wizard to officiate. I grab his extended arm and try to stop thinking.
"Uta Dittmar, do you swear to keep your identity as my spy a secret, on threat of death?"
I try my way through the words, ensuring the phrasing will not produce any unseen loopholes.
"I do." I say.
"And do you swear, to the best of your ability, you will perform your duty as a spy to my specifications, on threat of death?"
"I do."
A strange smile spreads across his face. For my safety, I add my own clause.
"Will you promise to keep me alive this coming year, so long as I continue to learn and ready myself to be your spy?" I speak slowly, ensuring I do not miss any vital information.
"Uta, I swear to keep you alive under those circumstances, to the best of my ability."
The gold bands ensnaring our arms fade. Upon looking into his eyes again, I am frightened to find the strange smile still on his face. It feels like a threat. Not letting go of his grip on my forearm, he dismisses the other wizard, who disapparates with a small gust of wind.
His hand tightens around my arm and I release my hand to pull away as he clamps down harder.
"Please, let go." I ask loudly.
His grin gets wider, feral, as he releases me. I cradle the appendage close to my chest and feel for the damage with my other hand. I likely won't even bruise.
"You're going to bruise, dear Uta." He says.
I take a few steps backward, to which he follows in suit. I suddenly remember this man killed both my mother and father mere hours ago. I keep retreating, hoping against all hope that Grindelwald is just going to hit me and be done. I've been beaten before, and it certainly isn't something I like to experience at length.
I stop retreating and brace myself for a curse or a fist. Instead, his hand clasps around my throat. He walks forward, pushing me back to the wall at a quick pace. I hit the wall painfully and he closes his fist around my neck.
I begin to panic in my head, unable to calm my will to survive. After I lose the ability to breathe, my hands rush over his in some sort of plea.
When his hands leave my neck I gasp in a lungful of air. He puts my shoulders in his hands and slams me back against the wall. I moan out loud in surprise and pain.
When I opened my eyes, Grindelwald is upon me, face close to mine. Unaware why, my eyes travel to his lips, then make their way slowly back to his eyes.
He closes the gap with his mouth, pressing close in unbridled lust. I feel his tongue along my lower lip, soft, teasing, before he bites down hard. My whole body jumps in response. He explores my mouth eagerly while I try to match his fervor.
He fists a hand into my hair. As soon as I think of his fist tightening he pulls my entire head back by my hair. I moan, out of my head in the sudden sensation. My head is pulled so far back my neck begins to ache uncomfortably.
Grindelwald moves from my mouth to attack my now exposed neck. No gentleness or tender thought intended, he bites savagely into the soft part of my throat. Not removing his mouth in the slightest, he loses his bite and begins sucking. It doesn't really hurt until he replaces his bite at full force, sucking harder, still.
My body arches towards his of it's own volition and suddenly I want nothing more than to be completely consumed by this wizard – this great legend of evil and power.
He moves away and pulls me with him, hair-first. I shout out in shock but it doesn't seem to phase him.
"Stop, stop," I demand. "Ow!"
He releases his hold and moves behind me, unzipping my dress in his own time. As I shrug out of it to turn around, he stops me.
"Don't move," he commands. I can do little but comply.
I feel his gaze on my body. His hands suddenly vacate their previous positions. I feels my bra and underwear vanish, knowing he's using magic. I remember then that he's taken my wand.
"I want my wand." I inform him.
"Shut up." Is his response. This incenses me.
"You can't just take my wand!" I exclaim in frustration. "Lord Grindelwald!" I cry out in distaste, no longer willing to have sex with a man treating me like I'm a captive.
When I turn, he is no longer draped in his velvet moss-green robes, but completely naked. I can't stop my eyes as they trail down his body. He isn't chubby in the slightest but he is covered in a thin layer of fat. My eyes continue downwards, where he is stroking himself lazily.
"You're never going to forget this." He promises, stepping toward me.
"W-wait!" I stutter. "I don't – No."
His grin is back as he walks closer, wand in one hand.
"No." I try again, looking at my dress which lay on the floor behind him. I feebly try to cover my breasts. "No." I try to say it again more firmly but it comes out in a panicked rush.
He lazily flicks his wrist at me.
"Go lay on the bed." He commands.
I feel myself going. I lay on top of the covers, clenching my legs shut, still covering my breasts.
He climbs in and leans over me.
"Open your legs."
I feel exposed. I feel helpless. I can feel the heat between my legs in stark contrast to his thighs. I try to will him away. I try to will his penis away from my body as he positions himself closely – too close – and speaks again.
"Put your hands above your head. Grab the bed frame and don't move them until I tell you to."
I feel myself start crying. Tears leak from the sides of my eyes and I feel them run onto my arms' position next to my face.
In my head, I hear myself chanting a litany of please, no, please, no, on repeat.
"Tell me how this feels." He instructs, sliding two of his fingers inside of me, thrusting with a sickening ease.
"I'm enjoying it." I find myself speaking out, "It feels good." My crying begins in earnest as I sob in shame.
"I know," he comforts me like I'm a child, "I know."
His fingers fill me comfortably, causing shivers of pleasure to run up and down my body.
"Tell me how you feel." He torments.
"I need more," I sob, "It's not enough." I push up against his penetrating fingers. He withdraws at that and slaps me across the face. I cry out in relief.
"I'm so disgusting. I need to be punished."
Grindelwald's eyes cloud over in lust and he releases the Imperius curse over me.
He guides his rock hard cock to my hole. I tense as he rubs me from clit to asshole, dripping precum over my most private parts. I tense each time he positions himself near my asshole. In sweet relief, he plunges himself into my pussy, pushing a moan out from the back of my throat.
I feel the tip of his dick pressing painfully into my cervix. Looking down, I see he hasn't even fully entered me. There's still a few inches, at least, outside. With no warning, he thrusts the rest into me. I let out a wail as he pushes into my cervix. Unrelenting, he pulls out only to ram himself back inside again.
I'm dimly aware of the noises I'm making at his every thrust.
"Turn over," he tell me. I obey, wanting to feel more.
When he enters me from behind I feel a whole new pleasure. I don't notice or care when he pushes a slender finger into my asshole. I've done the same on occasion.
He pulls out of my vagina completely and slams back in again, causing me to groan incoherently. He does it a second, and then a third time.
I scream in earnest when, on the forth plunge, he penetrates my ass.
"No!" I pull away from the sharp pain. He ignores my distress, wrapping his left arm around my neck and pulling me back up to him. I can feel every one of his hot pants on the back of my neck. He slowly moves in my tight ass, causing me to break into a fit of sobs. It hurts.
"Stop. Please stop." I beg, "Please, please, stop."
He pays me no heed, holding me by the hair instead of my neck. In addition to sobs, I feel snot running down my face.
"Shut up." He demands. I stop begging, but find myself unable to stifle my sobbing.
"Shut up." He commands with more anger, punctuating it by forcing his length up my ass to the hilt.
"I'm trying." I promise. Eventually, I pass out. When I wake, I notice a door open that wasn't there before – a bathroom.
An uncommon occurrence suddenly was not so rare. He taught me Occlumency during that year. I tried to convince myself if I have been treated better I would have progressed fasted.
It was to make me stronger, he told me. It was in my best interest to be used by him – sexually, violently, under torturous curse after curse. As loathe as I am to the methods he employed, I could feel the truth in them.
I no longer cared that my parents died. I no longer cared that he murdered them. I did not object to his control over me. I didn't want to. I was numb to the world.
He allowed me to torture his men. I took great pleasure in that until he allowed them their comeuppance.
His plan was for the Ministry of Magic of England to find me, ragged, thin, tortured, a shell of a former child. The Ministry would then have little choice to shelter me from him in their care.
Hogwarts students attend school for a year longer than those in Germany. I really was the perfect choice for his mission. The Ministry would gladly, with haste, dump me into school so as to get me out of their custody and therefore responsibility. It was too easy to gain the access to Dumbledore he required of me.
My stream of thought in broken as the door to the train compartment slides open. My first reaction should have been to demand those entering my compartment leave. Reminding myself I have no good reason to break character so early in the game, I remain silent, content to observe.
The three men who enter the compartment look to be of age, so it's likely they're close or at their final year. They are already dressed in the robes the Ministry provided me.
The skinny one glares, demanding to know what I'm staring at.
"Your cheekbones," I admit. "I've always wanted a kind like them It gives the impression of royalty or kingdom, in your case."
A compliment, I reason, puts suspicion at ease. Especially when it's under the context of envy and admiration. The man gives me a calculating look before nodding in satisfaction.
"I am Tom Riddle," he says, not extending a hand. "These are Malfoy and Lestrange."
"It is good to make your acquaintance, Tom." I continue, "I'm Uta Dittmar, the newest addition to this wizarding establishment."
Malfoy's eyes widen in acknowledgement. He moves across the aisle to sit next to me.
"Lady Dittmar," he extends his hands to mine. "Abraxas Malfoy," he mutters, kissing my knuckles.
I chuckle as I receive my hand back but then the words I plan to say get caught in my throat.
"I was going to remind you, I am merely Dame Dittmar." I admit. "You have heard of my familial death?" I inquire.
"Yes, of course," Abraxas begins, "My father visits Germany extensively for business, you know." He stumbles over his bragging.
"My condolences, Miss Dittmar." Tom smiles politely, despite his obvious disrespect of my title.
"And you are?" I turn from both boys to the third, Lestrange.
"Sebastien Lestrange." He speaks shortly, barely affording me his attention. I fight the sudden urge to hex him.
Tom suddenly breaks out in laughter. "I'm sure Sebastien's manners still require reform." He apologizes on his friend's behalf.
"Lady Dittmar," Abraxas begins.
"Uta." I enforce.
"Uta," he corrects, "you are here because of Grindelwald's reign in Germany, am I correct?"
My eyes harden. I ignore the boy, instead looking out of the window at the magnificent green landscape passing us by. I know of the Malfoys, them being another purebloodline. The family dabbles in wealth and power, not loyalty or moral sense.
"You practically fell off the map, so to speak, this past year," Abraxas pushes. "Certainly, all of us are curious as to your whereabouts in that absence."
Instead of answering the prying Malfoy, I turn to Tom, the only one of the three I hadn't felt the urge to curse.
"Your friend seems unaware that I have no interest in that conversation."
"They, admittedly, have yet to learn the subtle art of communication."
Surprisingly, at this, both Abraxas and Sebastien mumble their apologies to me.
"It is quite disappointing for those in such prominent bloodlines to be so inferior socially." I agree, purposefully ignoring said men's disgruntled looks.
"I admit," Tom says, almost embarrassedly, "I am curious as to how your parents died."
"They lost Grindelwald's favor." I answer, ignoring the twist of emotions in my belly. I observe their reactions closely.
Across from me, Lestrange looks as if the only thing he wished to ask was 'how?' Malfoy, of course, looked unsurprised, as if he had already been aware of it somehow. Perhaps he listened in while his grandmother gossiped over tea. Tom, however, eyes gleaming curiously, leans forward in his seat and begins speaking.
"And they are dead; You are not." He avoids asking anything directly, intending for me to derive my own questions from his statement and answer accordingly.
I fight the urge to narrow my eyes as I answer. I knew my arrival would cause inquiries. It shouldn't be a surprise.
"I have been imprisoned." I try to manipulate my voice into something resembling sorrow or fear or some kind of hesitance. What comes out of my mouth is cold, unfeeling, and dead-sounding. I figure to keep this temperament when I inevitably speak with Dumbledore. It is believable, as judging by my companion's responses.
Tom looks at me closely for the first time. At his gaze I am reminded of my physical condition. I refused the potions the healers at St. Mungo's gave me for weight gain. My hipbones and ribcage protrude visibly, though they are now obscured through my robes.
I know my cheekbones are hollowed and my eyes are dead. My hands resemble a dementor's horrid grasp. I prefer myself like this. Everyone who looks at me will know I am separate from them. They are fleshy; they glow with life, like distant suns. I am pale, ghostly, a breed from the moon or the grave.
"Well," Tom smiles, "Welcome to Hogwarts."
When the trains arrives at it's final destination, the night sky has just begun to blacken. There are no escorts to the castle, so as we exit the train I ask Tom if we're expected to walk.
"Carriages." He gestures to a line of awaiting transport as we round a corner.
"They've been enchanted," supplies Abraxas.
"Enchanted to do what?" I raise an eyebrow.
"To do what?" Abraxas laughs, "To carry us to the castle!"
"Then what are they for?" I gesture to the creatures ready to draw the carriages forward.
"What are what for?" Abraxas asks dumbly, inclining his head.
"The creatures, obviously!" I throw my hands in the air in an exaggerated gesture.
"There are no creatures." Tom says seriously.
Surely, they are there. Perhaps only I can see them? Why can I see them?
"Join us, Uta." Tom supplies.
I enter a carriage with them and sit next to Tom. When he moves too close I move away, uncomfortable.
At the entrance of the castle a teacher stands. He's yelling through the crowd for first year students. That's me, technically. Without announcing my departure, I leave Tom, Abraxas, and Lestrange walking. They would notice my absence eventually.
"Sir?" I inquire gently, "This is my first year."
I feel odd, surrounded by young children.
"Your name, child?" He asks, expectantly.
"Dittmar, Uta."
He inspects a list
"Ah!" He breathes, as if he has just made a great discovery. "May I welcome you to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."
He shoves a meaty hand into mine in greeting.
"I'm Armando Dippet, the headmaster here at Hogwarts."
"It's good to meet you." I supply.
"Attention! First years!" He bellows, "Follow me."
He walks, holding me around the shoulders, babbling the whole time. I ignore the desire to pull away.
"Now, usually, dear, our first years are quite younger than yourself," he chuckles in his idea of good humor. "Not smaller, though. You're going to make good use of the upcoming feast, I'm sure."
He continues, "Only after we've sorted we've sorted you into one of our four houses. Don't worry about the age difference. Occasionally we have transfers – more often now under Grindelwald's reign of terror –"
I zone out, bringing my awareness to the great hall we've all just entered. There are four long table, absolutely filled with students. In the direction we're walking a table in sat perpendicular to the four house tables.
"Is there a seating chart?" I interrupt Dippet's speech. He just gives me a cheeky grin and turns to address the audience.
"Welcome, all, to a new year!" He announces. "Remember to greet all of our newcomers warmly." He affectionately smiles at me and I'm reminded of Grindelwald. I find myself unable to mask a grimace. Thankfully, Dippet's already looked away.
He goes through a list in what appears to be alphabetical order. In little less than a few minutes, when called, I step forward and await the shared hat's judgement.
Would the sorting hat have the ability to pass through my Occlumency shields? If it can, it does not make me privy to that information.
"I think you would do well in Slytherin." The hat speaks into my mind. It's Legillimency, at the very least.
"Well, do it then!" I reply to the room of students watching.
I distantly notice a small laughter bounce between the room.
"Slytherin!" The hat announces. The table furthest to my right breaks out in raucous applause. I scan up and down the table as I approach, meeting Tom's eyes. He gestures to a spot that has just opened up near him and I sit.