Minerva's worst nightmare
When Molly came round again she was no longer chained to the wall in Lucius bedroom. She lay on the floor of a tiny room and there was another person with her. A person who sobbed almost silently and stroked Molly's back over and over again.
"Oh Molly, I'm so sorry they got you too. What have they done to you? Oh God and I made it worse …"
Minerva McGonagall? That was most definitely her voice. And apparently she thought that Molly was still unconscious. Molly hadn't the heart or the energy to contradict her.
----
"Get up, sluts."
Easier said than done, Minerva thought. They had been left alone for the night, without food or water, but alone. Molly couldn't get up. she was too sore from her encounter with Lucius. Minerva almost groaned in frustration. Suddenly Molly was slumping to the ground, arms outstretched, a flurry of fiery red hair. Minerva caught her gently and noted her returned lapse into unconsciousness. As she strode up the steps to the library-like room she half carried Molly with her. She was afraid because she knew what was coming. Now she would pay for trying to kill Tom. And the fact that he had taken his time in figuring out what would be appropriate was not at all reassuring. When they entered the room, they were greeted by Tom.
"This shall not do," he cried silkily, "How can I enjoy the company of two beautiful women if they are injured so."
He waved a hand over Molly's forehead and she moaned, curling into Minerva, hooking one arm around her.
"What have the fiends done to her? I said she was not to be injured more than necessary to capture her! She must be healed, if I can have much fun with her. Follow me."
He leaned inward and gently ran, no caressed, his hand down Molly's cheek and she, her eyes unfocused, moved away from his touch and pressed her face into Minerva's waist. She held her, fearing the Dark Lord's advances and feeling possessive at the same time. Molly had once been her student and she would be damned if she let anything further happen to her. What was Tom up to? Did he truly ordered not to injure Molly? That was not his style. He and his followers created chaos and fear. Minerva caught Lucius' eyes and knew immediately who to thank for Molly's pain.
"Bring them next door, Lucius."
When they were grabbed and dragged away, Minerva could clearly hear Tom's next sentence.
"Oh, and good job on that Weasley woman. I will enjoy myself immensely when I teach Minerva her lesson."
Minerva began to shiver violently. So Tom wanted Molly healed so that he could inflict new pain on her without Molly passing out early.
----
When Molly woke, it was to the grim visage of Minerva McGonagall, sitting against a grey wall. Nothing hurt and it was no longer so cold. Her former teacher had her arms crossed over her chest and she watched her with dark, intelligent eyes. Gingerly, Molly levered herself up on one elbow and glanced her way. Minerva had her long legs crossed at the ankle and she didn't move but she wasn't asleep.
Molly sat up impatiently and resisted the urge to pull her knees up to her chest and wrap her arms around them. Though comforting it would make her seem childish and beyond that, weak and womanish. Minerva would not approve. Minerva pressed her lips together and fiddled with the wedding band on her finger. Molly realized with a start, that Minerva too had been healed. She desperately needed to break the silence. Minerva looked as though she would continue to stare at her until she bored holes right through.
"Professor McGonagall, what happened while I was unconscious?"
Minerva cleared her throat and spoke in short clipped words, unlike her usual self.
"Lucius Malfoy healed us both and then deposited us here … He said he would return his attentions to us later."
Minerva turned her head sharply, and she pulled in a breath guiltily, Molly need not know of the other more embarrassing things that Malfoy had said about her. The thought sent a chill down Minerva's spine as she thought of exactly how and of the great length that Voldemort had proposed of the fun that he was going to have. Molly need not know either that she was punished because of something Minerva had done.
"When can we expect his tender ministrations?" Molly said, slightly less brave inside.
"Anytime one would expect."
Molly nodded slightly, her face blank but her insides quivering. How could the professor be so calm? The door of the room opened slightly then creaked open fully, a death-eater entered and a servant following behind. The servant laid down a jug, loaf of bread and a slab of cheese.
The masked death-eater stayed put, playing with something in his hands. Molly realized with a start that it was a collar, complete with long chain lead. She swallowed down her apprehension as the death-eater approached her and she backed away slightly. She fidgeted, prepared to fight to get away, but unexpectedly the death-eater struck out and hit her on the face, Molly fell back and the man quickly clamped the collar around her neck. Minerva jumped up and rushed to Molly as the door shut with a bang as the death-eater marched out.
"May I?"
Molly was uneasy but gave a slight nod of her head. Minerva stepped closer, so that there was barely any space between them and Molly bent her head. Minerva's arm gently clipped her shoulder, so close was she to her. She could feel her breath on the back of her neck, and she got goose bumps as Minerva lightly slipped her fingers underneath the collar, and round the entire circumference of the collar. She gently pried at the clasp on the back of the collar. Finally, she stepped back and said;
"I don't think we can get it off, Molly. It must be made with magic. I'm sorry."
Minerva hated to see a former student, or anyone for that matter, in such a state, collared as if she was an animal.
"You have nothing to be sorry for, Professor."
The uneasy silence grew and splintered as both women stared somewhat hesitantly at the paltry meal before them. Neither moved to eat it. At last Minerva looked up and said wryly;
"Let's eat. I have the uneasy feeling that we will need our strength."
She gestured with her fingers towards the food and Molly walked to the bread and hunkered down. Molly gingerly tore the loaf in half and handed it to Minerva. She retreated to her corner of the cell and ate awkwardly. The bread only slated her hunger, but Molly dared not touch the cheese. She drank briefly from the tankard and leaned back against the wall, closed her eyes and sighed. Her chest sank and her shoulders slumped.
Minerva looked at Molly with sympathy.
"It isn't hopeless, Molly."
The other woman opened one eye and looked at her.
"What should I be hoping for, Minerva?"
Minerva was shocked but she kept her face straight and still.
"Rescue?" She was trying to probe out Molly, to find out what was wrong.
"Why should I be rescued? The order would be outnumbered and they can't even hope for help from the ministry. They would be slaughtered." Molly turned her face away, to hide the tear that slipped down her face.
"Molly …"
Only the trembling of her lower lip showed Minerva exactly how frightened she was. She was trying to keep up a brave front. To keep her pride … In front of her former professor, the woman she had always admired.
"Molly …"
She turned at that and looked at Minerva.
Minerva was unsure how to break the silence. It wouldn't do if she mentioned Hogwarts or their families, not with the predicament that Molly was currently in. In fact, she could really mention nothing at all.
Once again, the door began to creak open and the bolts in the hinges scraped and screeched, protesting angrily at renewed function. The same death-eater tramped in, and grabbed the crook of Minerva's arm. Minerva rose to her feet and the death-eater pulled her along, his taut arm serving as the string for the puppet.
A short time later, the door opened again and Molly got to her feet to investigate. But a pair of death-eaters grabbed her, bringing her along a gray corridor into another door. There was a bed resplendent with four corner posts, complete with restraining chains. Minerva was there too, sitting in a straight backed chair, the back against her chest. She was silent and a line of blood dripped from the corner of her mouth.
Molly was tied by her wrists and set on the edge of the bed. Suddenly Voldemort was in the room and he clapped his hands and said:
"What fun I shall have! Mrs. Weasley, you are indeed a catch. And my dear Professor, what I shall be able to do with you. Such a fine pair!"
His chuckle was light and entirely insane. Molly drew even breaths and tried not to shake with fear. Never before had she been so terrified. But then again, she had never been in such a situation before. Voldemort walked over to her, his black robe swishing against the stone floor.
He had a knife in one hand. He cut Molly's bonds and threw them to the ground and seemed amused by her one instant glance towards the door.
"No escape for you, my darling. I have not yet taken my enjoyment from you."
He barred his teeth in a feral manner. Molly bit her lip and stared at the door. Voldemort stroked her hair and leaned in to gently nibble her neck. Molly felt nothing, just empty inside. She took solace there, inside her mind, where this wasn't really happening. She didn't hear the sharp intake of breath from the other side of the room and the muted growl of outage. Molly felt chilled. Voldemort fastened the chains to her wrists and ankles, forcing her into a spread eagle position.
First he ran his hand down her chest then he began to remove her clothing. The end of the bed board was high so Minerva couldn't see what he was doing. Voldemort beckoned to her and the chair moved a bit so that she could see all too clearly what happened. As she saw the state of Molly, nude, her eyes clenched tight and her fingers clutched into fists, embarrassed and no doubt humiliated, Minerva filled with a murderous rage as what had been done to one of her students. Molly didn't deserve this. Minerva glanced at Voldemort with anguished eyes and murder in her heart.
"Don't worry, darling. I'll be gentle."
Molly's eyes snapped open as she heard Voldemort repeat the line that Arthur had said over 25 years ago. 'Oh no, he is in my head and playing with my memories!' Her breath hitched in the throat as she squirmed away from Voldemort, who sat on the edge of the bed, his long slender fingers smoothly ran down from her hip to her knee.
Molly took a deep breath, feeling as if she was drowning and tried to shrink away from Voldemort as he lay down on top of her, taking control of her mouth and caressing her. Molly lay as a corpse, as Voldemort made love to her. All she could keep telling herself was that it would be over soon. And Minerva sat and watched in disgust and horror. When at last, Voldemort lay spent, Molly said nothing, nor did she move, except for the tears falling down her glistening cheeks.
Voldemort undressed completely and leaned over her, whispering into her ear:
"That was very enjoyable. And now, my dear, I think I will take my fill of you again."
A little while later when Voldemort gasped and panted, he said:
"I think my guards need a little diversion, don't you? In your cell of course. I'm sure Minerva won't object."
It was all Molly could do to speak.
"No, never…."
Voldemort's eyes flashed and he shouted:
"You will do it; otherwise Professor McGonagall will die by the most torturous means I can devise."
Voldemort drew one hand down the curve of her neck and she shuddered, she felt so used, unclean. Cold.
"I will." Molly said and she fought back the scream that raged in her throat as Voldemort fulfilled his desire. Then he said:
"I think, my dear, for your earlier disobedience that I will send you to have a little fun with Rudolphus. He does such good work, really he does. Pain is his specialty and his pleasure."
Molly let out a moan.
"Guard!"
"Yes, my lord?"
"Is Rudolphus finished with the other matters I assigned?"
"No, my lord. But if you wish my lord I will fetch him."
"No. I am done with the wench."
"My lord?"
"You will take her to her cell. I will not require your services for an hour at least. But the muggle-lover's wife here must be delivered to Rudolphus in two hours. Alive. Otherwise I will be most displeased. Oh and the dear Professor is to be brought to my private quarters afterwards."
Molly's eyes shot open. Not more! Minerva swore at Voldemort. His eyes narrowed and he send an ancient curse at her. The wound on her chest burst into pain and crushed all the air from her lungs. Minerva fainted.
"Yes, of course, my lord, it will be done as you wish."
Voldemort leapt up and pulled on his robe, then strode out of the room. The death-eater wrenched off the manacles and dragged Molly. It took her a minute to shake off her fatigue and then she began to struggle as he pulled her down the hallway. She planted her feet firmly and stood. He pulled on the chain fastened round her neck and she resisted, the tendons and muscles in her neck standing out. Suddenly, he let out the slack and Molly fell towards him. He grabbed her, and Molly thrust her knee into his groin.
"Ugh! You'll pay for that, bitch!"
He grabbed her round the neck and hit her head once, twice against the wall. Molly slumped, stunned. He lugged her down the hallway back to the cell.
----
As Minerva woke, her head pounded and her body ached. She shivered and she realized that she was naked. She drew on the green skirt and blouse that lay, crumpled, on the floor of the cell. She leaned her head against the wall; the cool stone eased the bludgeoning pain that went through it. The death-eater discarded Molly casually on the floor and entered into the cell.
"The wall, you slut."
Minerva obeyed, she had seen the petty look in other's eyes before, the mark of a bully.
"Not fast enough, bitch. Crucio!"
The curse hit her squarely. Minerva gritted her teeth, determined not to show pain or cry out.
"Move. Now."
The death-eater locked the manacles about her wrists and ankles, pulling her arms above her head and forcing Minerva to stand upright. Minerva then chanced a glance at Molly. She flinched at the sight of her, bruises all about her, her upper arms, neck, and face. What had happened to her?
"Now, you be quiet, I'll not have you interrupt my fun."
As he drew down his hose, Minerva shuddered. Not Molly. She wouldn't let it happen. Never.
''Don't!"
Her distress broke free in a single word.
"One more won't harm anything, will it? The little bitch has certainly had enough practice with seven children."
His tone was friendly and cheerful as he pulled Molly up against the wall.
"Take me instead, just not her."
Molly was sure that this was just a delirium. Minerva would never say such a thing. She would never sound this distressed. She would never beg.
"Sorry, professor, I'm not really interested. Anyway you belong to the Dark Lord."
Minerva flinched. The death-eater continued with his task and Minerva could do nothing except turn her eyes away and close them and pray that it would be all over. She never noticed the tears the traced solitary tracks down her face.
As Molly woke, her whole body felt on fire, and as she looked at all the bruises she had accumulated, she knew why and it made her sick. On all fours, she crawled to the edge of the cell, retching up the remains of the meager meal that she had consumed earlier. The chain clanked on the stone. Minerva straightened and said:
"Molly?"
It was no louder than a whisper, but Molly heard it as if she were standing next to her. She tried to use her arms to cover herself but realized that Minerva's eyes were shut.
"Yes, Minerva?"
"I'm sorry."
"I'm fine, my lord." She almost laughed when she saw Minerva grimace,
"Don't be ridiculous, Molly. You most certainly are not. But considering I'm the one tied up at the moment, there isn't much that I can do about it."
She did start laughing, but that made her ribs hurt, which in turn made her head pound and she vomited again, in the corner of the room. No sense in getting two corners dirty. She was getting hysterical, no doubt in shock. Breathe, Molly, you survived seven pregnancies. But it felt so good to pretend, that she was still alright.
The other death-eater came back and gently led Molly out. Minerva heard the footsteps thudding outside the corridor and sighed when she realized that yet again she was alone and Molly was the one bearing the brunt of everything. Slowly, she drifted off to sleep, her arms and legs asleep from the tension on the chains. Ignoring the aches and pains wasn't too hard but the guilt…
In an instant she stood upright and alert at the sound that reverberated through the stone. It was an animalistic sound, a shrill scream that sounded as if an animal was dying. Molly wasn't in the cell. Could she have made such a primal and so very desperate sound?
----
Molly was in agony. Rudolphus had used her and then, had grabbed his 'favourite' knife.
"Only the best for you, slut."
Molly made a little whimper through her gag even as she willed herself not to. Rudolphus's knife ran confidently, leaving blood swelling from a wound on her chest. The blade ran lines down her back, making Molly arch in torment, pulling against the chains that bond her. Then he leaned close and asked:
"More of me or my knife?"
Molly almost cried at the choice. She curled inwards and watched through swollen slits of eyes as Rudolphus walked to the edge of the wall, to a table. With her arms and legs bond, she could only wiggle and squirm, to get away. Anything to get away. As she moved, centimeter by centimeter, abusing her wounded body even further, Rudolphus walked up behind her. He grabbed her hair and pulled her upright.
"Where do you think you're going, bitch?"
His voice had a nasty edge, and he fingered the knife at his belt.
"Did I give you permission to move anywhere, slave?"
In an instant he grabbed the knife from his belt and stabbed it through Kel's leg, the blade protruding from the other side and fitting neatly into the chinks between the floor stones. He let go of her hair, and Molly was forced to keep herself upright to prevent the blade from slicing down to her knee. She screamed in agony. Molly was immobilized and Rudolphus brought the heavy whip up over his head, flogging her. The whip bit into her back, flaying the skin, until nothing could be seen but blood. Finally, mercifully Molly fell into unconsciousness, only wishing that it was death.
----
The noise of boots made a thumping sound on the stone and Minerva, her knees bent and body ready for action, her dark eyes piercing, watched the door intently. The door swung open with a creak and the two death-eaters hefted their burden in, tossing in a grey woolen blanket as well.
"We'll come again and see you, wench."
The first death-eater said and he laughed, making a rude gesture with his fingers. The second, older man however looked grim and walked up to Minerva. The younger man made for the exit, door slamming shut. He unchained Minerva and strode out. Minerva released a breath she hadn't been aware of holding, she wasn't sure what she would have done if they hadn't let her go.
When she leaned down and grabbed the lacerated wrist of Molly, she shuddered away from her. Gently, tenderly she tucked the blanket around Molly's battered bloody body. All Minerva could do was cradle her body in her arms and try so desperately to deny the truth before her eyes. She hadn't been able to protect Molly. It was all her fault. She had endangered the woman in her arms. It was what she had always feared. Seeing how her students were tortured before her eyes.
And she would be next.
