Danger Approaching
Poppy wrung out another cold cloth and exchanged it with the one on Minerva's forehead. It was fever hot and Minerva kept her eyes stubbornly closed. Neither the gentle pleading from Poppy nor Albus' appearance had coaxed her into opening them. Tears of shame had escaped down Minerva's cheeks and she had turned away from Albus' touch, hunching her shoulders defensively, drawing her knees up and curling into a foetus position. Albus had made no further attempt to touch her but the look in his eyes had torn Poppy's heart apart.
"Please, darling, talk to us. What happened?" Poppy made one last helpless attempt to draw Minerva out of her shell. Her tone became more pleading and desperate, "Minerva ... please ..."
No sound escaped Minerva's lips but her lids pressed even closer together. Apparently she refused to deal with the reality in front of her.
Poppy turned around on her chair as she heard a hesitant knock on the door. Frowning, she wondered who that could be.
"Come in," she called out.
Finally something stirred at the gate of Malfoy Manor, something different than the pet peacocks. To Lucius' delight he recognized his own wife, sauntering up the path to the big house. She wore a muggle summer dress with a tight-fitting bodice and a wide skirt which flared out at her movements. No robe, no pointed hat ... the insignia of a real witch, the insignia of their pride as pure-bloods.
Smiling into the sun and closing her eyes, Narcissa twirled around, joyfully enjoying the bright day and her newfound freedom. Today was such a wonderful day; she had gotten mail from her precious son and she had visited Molly and two-day old Ginger. The little girl was like the rays of sun just beating down on her; her toothless grin lighting up the whole room and lifting Molly's heart. Arthur had really come around to loving that little girl. Today she had actually smiled at him and he had fallen head over teakettle in love with the little charmer, causing Molly to tear up and smile at her husband with all the love she felt for him in her eyes. Her eyes still closed she twirled again.
Suddenly her arm was grabbed in an iron grip and she was forcefully twisted around.
Narcissa struggled against the restraining hands immediately, blindly groping for her wand. She recognized the hand over her mouth and the unbreakable grip around her waist. Fear griped her heart when she heard an all too familiar voice in her ear.
"Hold still and I won't harm you," her husband murmured almost lovingly into her ear, while the arm around her waist drew her closer, pressing her rear to his middle.
Helplessly, she shook her head, still trying to reach her wand, the only protection against him. Before her searching fingers could reach it, Lucius' hand closed around the hilt and yanked it from her belt. She knew she was lost now ...
"tsk, tsk, tsk ... are you trying to get away from me? Why ever would you do that? We are still married after all," he drawled, bored and self-assured.
Trembling uncontrollably by now, Narcissa felt like fainting. Was he after her or the Order? The stiffness against her botto led to the conclusion, falsely or not, that he was indeed after her and intend on his marital rights.
Her heart beat accelerated impossibly higher and her throat constricted. Narcissa had really thought herself safe from Lucius. Well, that bubble burst quickly now! She should have known better. Her struggles ceased and she submitted to his painful grasp on her. She had to play along for now and keep the Order safe. Pleading to any listening deity, Narcissa prayed for the strength to withhold any information she had and withstand Lucius' torture.
"Now that's better. See it's not that bad if you play nicely. I suggest we take that inside," Lucius whispered into her ear, his breath tickling her ear and raising goose bumps of disgust on her skin.
Moaning in despair, Narcissa had no other choice than being dragged towards her house. Her hands uselessly gripped Lucius' arm around her waist in the vain attempt to shake him off. Of course that didn't get her far. His arm only tightened painfully around her and she gasped for air. Sliding her hands over her skirt to wipe the sweaty palms, Narcissa's fingers brushed against her pocket. Through the thin fabric, she could feel some coins and the little parcel she had gotten for Draco's birthday in a few days. The thought of her little boy caused tears to spring into her eyes and her heart to speed up again. She would be damned if she allowed Lucius to poison Draco's mind again and use him for his own devious plans! She would never allow Lucius to get his hands on her son again ... not without a good fight.
Wait! Fight ... coins ... oh God, she was saved!
Harry, in an attempt to finally patch up things with Draco, and Ron out of gratitude for Narcissa's help, had invited Draco to a DA meeting. There he had gotten a coin.
Effortlessly Lucius towed his wife to the front porch of their house. He was thrilled that he had been able to overpower his sweet, little wife ... and without a wand either. That had been easier than he had thought possible. She probably had believed she was safe. How stupid and naive this woman was! A cold, cruel laugh bubbled up in him and the thrilling feeling of victory ... the same feeling he had had when raping Molly. She was meant to be his. This Weasley only interfered and meddled in affairs which weren't his concern.
Narcissa felt anger and hatred radiating from the form behind her. She knew what would happen now ... she had endured it many times before. Fear, paralysing fear engulfed her and she gripped Draco's coin in a tight fist, afraid to lose her hold on it ... her hold on help and safety! How did this thing work again? Why hadn't she paid better attention when Draco explained its use and usage?
Minerva awoke screaming, but was quickly calmed by a familiar, sweet voice.
"Professor, please, you're alright. You're in the Hospital Wing ... Shall I go get Madam Pomfrey?" Hermione spoke softly, her hand instinctively covering her professor's, and Minerva couldn't help but force out a weak smile.
"No, no, I'm quite alright. Wh-Why am I in the Hospital Wing?"
"Well, after you were sick you ... you blacked out ... You were screaming and ... and thrashing ..."
Minerva lowered her head in embarrassment. A student she knew had the upmost respect for her, had to see her in such a state. Hadn't the child already seen enough? Her life was so dangerous being involved with Harry and Ron, and now she had to deal with someone she looked up to for everything being so weak? So fragile? How could that be right?
"I'm sorry," she managed, but Hermione retreated, standing tall above Minerva's bed, and glaring down at her.
"That's exactly why I came here!" she hissed. "To keep you from feeling sorry for yourself ... You aren't sorry for me, you're sorry for you, and there's no reason to be!"
"Hermione, I ..."
"She's right, so don't try and fight with her, Professor. Hermione is right in the sense that you need to stop. There's no reason for you to feel sorry for yourself or anyone else. This isn't the professor I know ... You're usually so strong, so tough ... so warm ... But you've been weak ... and cold ... and you're giving up. I'd think the more you went through in life, the more you'd be an example ... But you're nothing I thought you were! You're fake ... Everything I've known for all these years of you, is fake. Just an act you try and hold up so no one sees the real you ... A side maybe they wouldn't be too happy with ... I know I'm not happy with it!" Harry screamed. "I'm not happy at all to have been lied to for so long about what a great person you are! I loved you like a Mum, but you could never measure up to her! Never! You don't deserve my concern, or my sympathy." He stood. "I have better places to be, like Defence Against the Dark Arts ... so I can actually learn how to defend myself and not have to wallow in self-pity someday."
Hermione stared at Harry. She was speechless. Never had she seen him that angry.
Minerva herself stared up into the boy's green eyes ... so very much like her eldest daughter's had been ... like her own had been ... before Tom had taken the spark out of them ...
She couldn't be angry at him. Everything he had said was right. She was being a coward and wallowing in self-pity but he didn't know what it was like to feel that helpless, to have every chance of escape taken from you. How was she supposed to forget and just go on with her life? ... She couldn't do that. Her nightmares were only part of the continued terror Tom still had, even dead.
"Mr. Potter ..."
"Cut the crap, Professor!" Harry yelled, losing his temper fully. He grabbed Minerva by her shoulders and began to shake her hard. His fingers dug into her flesh and she gasped in pain, trying valiantly to get away from him. "Come on, greatest witch, fight me, get rid of me, blast me out of the room!" he challenged icily, taunting her.
Hermione gasped and rushed forward to tear Harry away from her mentor, but Harry just shoved her away with one hand.
"Nothing, Professor?" he taunted again. "You really have become weak. You are no longer the woman I look up to, the woman who had taken a mother's place in my heart! You are nothing anymore!"
And suddenly Minerva was free again. The following silence was suffocating. Minerva was reduced to a trembling mass on the bed, pathetic and weak. She couldn't defend herself ... she had no strength left to do that. She merely curled up into a tight ball as if protecting the pain inside.
Her children were gone.
Her dignity was gone.
Her self-respect was gone.
Her marriage was a thing of the past.
Her husband surely only pretended to love her still.
What was left to fight for?
Nothing ...
Narcissa yelped in pain as another Cruciatus curse hit her squarely in the chest. Her body contorted in pain, limps straining against her bonds.
"Stop. Stop ... Please stop."
She couldn't hold it in any longer. Her eyes were begging, filled with tears from her loss ... She wanted her husband to just kill her ... She wanted the pain to stop. She bit her lip, shaking her head at how weak she suddenly felt again. Where had her new strength gone? She looked down at the cold, wood floor beneath her, giving up.
Lucius stood there a moment, staring down on her and then grabbed the top half of her dress and pulled her up to stand in front of him, but she couldn't. Her legs gave out completely ... The curses he'd put on her had taken all of her strength and she could no longer stand. She fell into his arms and looked up at him, tears streaming down her cheeks.
"Tell me where she is!" he demanded softly.
Narcissa shook her head but she knew as well as Lucius that she would speak in the end. He had his ways to get information.
Draco was beginning to wonder what his mother was up to these days. She hadn't written in days ... weeks even come to think of it. Shaking his head, Draco chided himself for being silly. She was probably cooped up with Molly over little Ginger, helping out and babysitting.
He had to smile at the thought. His mother had definitely come a long way. She was now much more confident ... and so much happier. Draco still couldn't believe how rich her laughter was, how beautiful her smiles, how joyful her whole being. Now in retrospect he could see how miserable she had been before. Now he could see what Harry had seen at the Quidditch World Cup, that her face and been set in a resigned grimace. Draco wanted to kick himself for never noticing that before, but what good did it to cry over spilt milk?
He just wished Professor McGonagall would do as well as his mother. He sighed. But she was far from well at all. Professor Dumbledore had taken over her lessons with the help of Professor Flitwick, but neither man was brilliant enough to keep up with Professor McGonagall. Flitwick had no talent for transformations and simply copied lessons from books and Dumbledore seemed too far away to really educate his classes.
Somehow Draco had to find something to cheer her up ... Maybe his mother knew something? If only she would finally answer his letters.
Arthur was bending over the pram with little Ginger in it and cooed to her. She stretched out her arms and smiled toothlessly up to him.
"If one looks at you like that, one could almost forget the last night ... but only almost," he informed his daughter with a grin, which was immediately answered by Ginger.
Three week old Ginger was screaming her head off and Molly couldn't bring herself to drag her sorry behind out of bed. Beside her Arthur steered sleepily. Groaning at being wakened for the fourth time this night, he rolled over and out of bed. He stepped up to the cradle, crooning softly to his baby girl inside. She kept her eyes open, but stayed completely still as she watched the two of them, Arthur rocking and patting him, before he sat down in the chair.
"Hush, hush, what's all this fuss about? Don't tell Mummy this, but you are a lucky little princess to have her in your life – she is a wonderful mother, and I'm a little jealous (just kidding) of the attention she's giving you … don't ever forget that she's a lovely lady, and loves you very much … as I do …"
Molly pretended to be asleep when he returned to bed, but she had been incredibly moved by his speech … But she wasn't going to tell him that she had heard him …
"Hey, dad," a voice interrupted.
Arthur looked up and saw Charlie walking towards him with a piece of parchment in his hand and a look on his face as if he was sent to the gallows.
"Hey, son, what's the matter?" Arthur asked sympathetically.
"Mum, sends me to go shopping," Charlie wailed.
Arthur smiled but could understand his son. It was either to steal an egg from a mother dragon than facing Molly with the wrong purchases ... especially now that she was a nervous, sleep-depraved wreck due to little, grinning-from-ear-to-ear Ginger.
"How about I come with you and we take your little sister out for a stroll?" Arthur asked and received a boyishly relieved grin ... this time with flashing teeth.
