February 1, 2012
Author Note: I spent far too much time on the last chapter. Writing this story was just meant to be a quick diversion to get the plot bunny out of my head.
I have noted hits on the story, but without any faves, follows or reviews, I cannot tell if anyone is actually planning on reading this story. Such a shame, given the amount of time I've plotted the ideas for it.
Updated March 8, 2012
Chapter Three
Antonin held Miss Abbott snugly against him and asked her in a quiet voice, "Are you ready?"
She nodded her head slightly and gulped back her fright.
He gave a final glance to Snape, but the man had his back to him, conferring with the disgruntled Carrow twins. Lucius was still keeping his distance from the defiant Weasley girl, training his wand on her. Rodolphus was grinding against the ass of his blonde, groping inside her robe. The girl's faraway expression reminded him of the unconventional Quibbler publisher, Lovegood, and he realized that she was the man's daughter. Bella was sneering at her husband's ecstasy with venomous hatred, while her own captive seethed at the display in helpless anger.
Antonin focused his mind on the alley behind the Hog's Head and teleported there. The girl jolted forward as they touched on solid ground, but he steadied her with his wand hand and murmured, "I've got you now."
Her face took on a pallid shade of green and he saw her convulse as her cheeks filled. She bent over reflexively and spewed on the dusty ground, the only sound being the stomach fluids splattering on the ground.
Aliz had been sick for several weeks. Antonin had been disgusted with the daily vomiting until the morning he realized that she hadn't complained about her female bleeding for quite some time. It was his child inside the woman that caused her to be sick every morning!
He drew back a loose strand of the Abbott girl's hair that had escaped her ponytail, and he helped her stand up straight. A warm towel conjured at the tip of his wand was in his hand to wipe the vomit off her chin. Next he scourgified her clothes and trainers, straightening her robe so it hung just right.
She stared at him in silence, her mouth open until she saw him watching her expression. He disappeared the wet cloth and caressed her cheek with his knuckle. "It'll take time to get used to side-along apparation," he assured her.
Her face turned crimson and she looked away.
"Snape silenced you," he said, as he realized why she hadn't tried to speak. He put his arm around the back of her shoulders and led her to the front of the building. He opened the door and with a flourish gestured for her to enter the darkened pub. The smell of fire whiskey and beer assaulted them. He grinned as she wrinkled her nose up.
He followed her inside, keeping a steadying hand on her shoulder. When the closed the door behind them, they looked around the shadowy pub, adjusting their eyes to the dim lighting.
Yaxley and Macnair were standing at the bar, while Crabbe and Goyle were hunched at a table. A few other Death Eaters loitered in the room, taking note of the girl that their comrade had pulled to his side.
"Celebrating already, Dolohov?" Yaxley rebuked. "You're taking a bit too much liberty, considering your disgrace in the eyes of our lord."
Antonin let his hand fall to the small of the girl's back as he guided her forward. He growled through his clenched jaw. "Perhaps you should ask Snape how he tends his students at Hogwarts. She's here for him."
A young Death Eater turned to look the girl up and down, licking his lips in appreciation. The older men snickered and someone muttered, "I knew Snape had those little bitches on their knees. No one could go that long without a fuck."
The girl froze, refusing to move forward. Antonin wrapped his arm around her waist and guided her to the bar.
The gray-haired proprietor in worn-out robes that matched his demeanor came out and scowled at the sight of the girl. "What's she doing here?"
"You know her?" Antonin asked in surprise.
He saw the girl mouthing a "no" and shaking her head to discourage the barkeep.
"Seen her around."
"Snape wants her here." Antonin watched the old man's face for a reaction.
The lecherous men listening in laughed and made disgusting comments about the headmaster's new privileges in disciplining students.
"Does he, now?"
"Just give me a room," Antonin said quietly.
"You know the bed is never locked up by me."
"A proper room," Antonin seethed. "Does she look like a common prostitute?"
"Hmmph." The wizened man was clearly reluctant to hand over a magic key. "You payin'?"
Antonin snatched the key. "Don't get too greedy, old man. Or have you so quickly forgotten who lets you stay in business?"
The girl gave a pleading look to the face framed by long gray hair before Antonin guided her up the rickety stairs into a dark corridor. She shivered and clutched his wrist, digging her nails into his skin.
He opened the door and flicked his wand to light the torches in the room and start a fire in the grate. Extricating his arm from her desperate clutch, he guided her to a chair next to a weathered table and he helped her sit down.
A very ugly elf popped into the room and bowed low, not looking at the patrons.
"Hot tea and biscuits for the lady," Antonin commanded. "And vodka. Bring the bottle."
The requested items appeared on the table. Antonin grabbed the bottle, flicked his wand to open it, and took a look swig. "Aaahhh," he concluded, wiping his mouth with the sleeve of his robe. Looking to the girl, he admonished, "Eat up before your headmaster gets here."
She stared at him with an angry expression.
"Or not," he chuckled. "You're quite enchanting when you're angry, you know."
He admired the red blush that inflamed her face. "Make yourself comfortable. It could be a while."
He propped himself on the bed, not bothering to kick off his boots, and took another swig of the pristine spirits. Out of his pocket he pulled a pack of cigars and lit one. After puffing on it, he offered the pack to the girl. She refused with a look of revolt and a frown as she waved away the thick smoke lingering in the air.
He snickered at her expression. Then he said with sincerity, "I'll put it out if it bothers you."
Her eyes widened.
Antonin quickly snubbed out the cigar on the battered old nightstand and flicked his wand to clear the air. "There. Now take some tea. If you want something else, well – tea is good for you. And the biscuits will settle your stomach."
With a trembling hand, she took a bite of biscuit and washed it down with the steaming tea. When she pushed the plate away and put her head down on table to rest, Antonin hovered the blanket off the bed and wrapped it around her shoulders. She looked up with a grateful smile before resting her head on her arms and closing her eyes.