8
Father, My Father—Chapter 11
Mid-November 1947
Abraxas lay on the floor of his tent in a puddle of his own vomit, exhausted and sickened from the agony that had finally passed, yet unable to get up. As usual the horrific pain came for ten minutes; however, its aftereffects lasted longer each time, and at the moment his numbed limbs were incapable of feeling any sensation, let alone supporting his weight.
Frank had wisely chosen not to be present—both because he couldn't bear to watch his friend suffer, and because Abraxas had asked him not to stay during these times. He'd begged Abraxas to go to their superiors in the camp, to find help, and he'd stubbornly refused. Now Malfoy was rethinking that position. If he had to go through this torture again, he wasn't entirely sure he could do it. It had been two months; even at only once a week, the anticipation coupled with the actual event was driving him mad. His father may get his wish after all, forcing his son home if only to have the damnable disk removed.
"Brax? Are you in there?"
Holy God, not now! Glancing at the wand still clutched in his white-knuckled fist, he removed the silencing charm from the tent and growled, "Don't come in!"
Smiling on the other side of the tent flap, Thalia said teasingly, "Why, are you naked?" If so, she wouldn't really mind seeing it.
"No." He hadn't expected that, and had nothing else to say.
She frowned, twisting her mouth slightly. "You aren't masturbating, are you?" As if he'd admit it?
"No…" he repeated, in a voice that sounded so weak and in pain that she couldn't stop herself.
She barged into the tent and stopped cold, gasping, her hand to her mouth. "Oh, God! Are you okay? I'm going to get help—"
"No!" he barked, much stronger, though it cost him to do so. "I don't need help. I just need a few minutes more."
"For what? Brax, what happened?" She approached slowly, wrinkling her nose at the sick on the floor. A wave of her wand vanished it, along with the string dripping from his chin and cheek. "What's going on?"
"I didn't want to tell you…it's humiliating," he said, averting his eyes for lack of being able to turn his head. "And it's a long story."
"You said you've got a few minutes, so tell me." Thalia planted herself on his cot, staring at him, waiting. "If you won't, I'm marching out that door and bringing in one of the doctors. I don't care if you get angry with me, I'm worried about you." The set of her face told him she wasn't joking, nor would she be swayed by pleading.
Given the choices available, honesty seemed like the best policy. While he lay there, he recounted briefly the story of his childhood so that Thalia might appreciate the lengths to which Horatio Malfoy would go for vengeance, and when he told her about the latest visit, the threats against his mother, and the implantation of the device in his back, her lips pressed so tightly together they looked poised to disappear entirely.
"And that's why I'm lying here now," he said softly.
"I can't believe this," she said finally, shaking her head and wiping tears from her eyes. "How can any so-called father treat his son this way?"
"I gave up asking that years ago," Abraxas replied. He wiggled his fingers, then his toes, then gingerly drew his legs up toward his chest to roll onto his knees. Ever so gradually he eased himself to his feet, feeling pleased with himself till he looked at the horror on Thalia's face. She wasn't used to this, to the beatings or the torture, to the pride at overcoming them. "I'm sorry you had to see this."
"You need help, Brax. I don't know anything about those disks, but surely someone here does. Let me take you to one of them."
"No." Then he recalled his own weakness, his wondering if he could endure another bout of this torment. Maybe it was time to try a healer or doctor rather than give up and go home, leaving behind the woman of his dreams. "I'll go by myself."
"How do I know you will?" she challenged. "You could be placating me with no intent of doing as you say—which incidentally would piss me off royally."
He grinned. That was his Thalia! "I'm going right now—you can watch me if you want."
Wholly aware of her eyes on his back, Abraxas exited the tent, stumbled across the rocky terrain of the camp to Dr. Hodgins' tent, and tapped at the canvas. "Dr. Hodgins?"
The old woman came to the door and peered out, her long white hair down around her face as if she'd been getting ready for bed. He'd never seen it down, and simply stared for a moment as she said, "Yes, Abraxas?"
"If you have a minute, may I speak to you in private?"
The doctor invited him in and closed the flap. "Is there a problem?"
He automatically hesitated. He wasn't permitted to tell anyone about the abuse, it simply wasn't done, it would make things worse…but could it really get much worse? He'd told Thalia and the world hadn't exploded. Nodding at the same time he spoke, he said, "No, not exactly. I mean, yes. I came to you because I believe of all the doctors here, you've got the most experience."
"Are you calling me old?" He caught a slight twinkle in her eye, so faint he wasn't quite sure he'd seen it.
"No, ma'am!" he yelped, eyes wide, head shaking vigorously. "It's just that I…I hope you might be able to help me." Quaking slightly from the earlier pain as well as from dread, he pulled his shirt off over his head.
She responded dryly with, "Mr. Malfoy, if you're trying to seduce me, do remember that I'm substantially older than you."
He blushed and shook his head again. The trembling in his limbs wasn't lost on her, and her amusement took on a curious mien. He turned around to display the disk situated between his shoulder blades, dug into the spine. "Do you know what this is?"
"Hmm." She came a tad closer and stroked a finger across it. "Of course. It's a pain-relieving disk. Has it stopped operating?" That would explain the trembling.
"No, ma'am, it works fine. That's the problem," he choked out over his dry throat. "It doesn't relieve suffering, it causes it."
"I'm sorry? That's not its function."
"Yes, it is," Abraxas said in a bare whisper. "It's apparently been modified for the task."
Dr. Hodgins took him by the shoulder and spun him to face her, her creased features livid. "Are you telling me someone placed this on you to induce torment?"
Unable to look at her, he merely nodded.
"Who? If someone here dared such a thing, even as a joke, I will—"
"Dr. Hodgins, please!" he interrupted, looking like he wanted to cry. Speaking quickly, afraid he may lose his nerve is he didn't spit it out immediately, he blurted, "It's no one here. My father forbid me to come on this expedition, and when I disobeyed him he tracked me down and made a special visit in September to do this. He said if anyone except him tries to remove it, the pain will be…well, I get the impression it might kill me, or send me into a coma." At the fury shining in her face, he hurriedly added, "I implore you not to tell anyone. I don't want my family name dragged through the mud, and I won't press charges against my father. I just want it to stop!"
Dr. Hodgins laid a gentle, calming hand on his shoulder. Allowing him to become hysterical wasn't going to achieve anything, and she'd seen enough already, knew enough about the Malfoy pride of family name that he wasn't going to bend where that was concerned. "Is it constant?"
"No. Once a week, like clockwork, lasts for ten minutes. It's excruciating, debilitating agony, and every time it seems to take longer to get over it." His chin nearly rested on his chest, his shame evident.
"That's a start," she said brightly, spinning him away under the pretense of examining the disk. He didn't need to feel any more pressure or embarrassment. "It has evidently tapped into the spinal column, utilizing the nervous system. We know when the spell is coming; all we need to do is figure out a way to negate its effect."
"Do you think we can?" he asked, hope peeking from behind despair.
"As you pointed out, I am the eldest—most experienced—here," she answered, allowing a tiny smirk. "Neurology is one of my areas of expertise, and although you won't read about it in my biography, I'm no stranger to Dark Magic. I will sort this out, hopefully by next week." She patted him gently on the back. "Go and rest. I have work to do."
Xxxoooxxxoooxxxoooxxxooo
"So you think she can get rid of it?" Thalia asked, excited at the prospect.
Abraxas shrugged. Now that he'd come back to his tent where it all began, away from Dr. Hodgins, his optimism had begun to fade again. She'd make her best attempt, but what if she couldn't do anything to help? Could he endure another seven and a half months of this, or would he be compelled to return home? He mumbled, "I don't know. I hope so…but hope hasn't really been on my side all my life, you know?" he tried to grin, but it came off as a grimace.
Thalia threw her arms around him and pulled him in tight to her, nuzzling her face into his neck. "If she can't, we'll find one who can. We'll leave, go back to Britain, and search for the best in the world. I don't care if it takes years to pay for it, I will!"
"Oh, Thalia," he murmured, tears forming in his eyes at her kindness. He squeezed her so hard she squeaked. "You'd do that for me, leave your training for me?"
"Of course I would," she replied immediately.
He squeezed her again, bending down to rub his lips across her hair. "If I go back to Britain, I may as well just go home and have Father remove it. And you wouldn't need to worry about payment. I thought you already knew that I'm filthy rich."
Her body went rigid and she pulled back slightly to look dubiously at him. "Don't make fun of me."
"I'm not. Haven't you ever heard of the Malfoys?" It seemed inconceivable that she hadn't.
"I don't know, maybe. The name sounds familiar, but then I've known you for over four months, so naturally it sounds familiar. I haven't been back to England since I was fifteen, and I don't follow society news," she said, sighing and relaxing into him again. "But I don't care. I only want to help you."
"I truly appreciate your concern, Thalia. You're the sweetest witch I've ever known." Smiling, he kissed her hard on the lips and deliberately stepped away. Frank could be back at any time, it wasn't wise to be in a compromising position. "I should get to bed, it—the disk, the pain—it makes me really tired."
"I understand. And you're the sweetest wizard I've ever known," she shot back, grinning. She pressed his hand between both of hers and headed for the tent flap. "Goodnight, Brax."
"Goodnight, darling—Thalia, I mean Thalia," he said, blushing.
"Darling is nice, too," she cooed, chuckling. Ducking her head, she exited the tent.
Abraxas sat down on his cot, then lay down and pulled the blanket up over him. He honestly was exhausted, and now that he had some sort of hope for relief, along with Thalia to dream about, he felt ready for sleep. He began to drift off within minutes, only to be awakened by the sound of an owl hooting at his head.
Twisting his neck, he grumbled, "How did you get in here?"
He grudgingly sat up, shot a lumos to lighten the tent, unwrapped the parchment from the owl's leg, and gave the owl a stale cracker sitting by the bed. Then he poured some water into a shallow dish and set it on the floor for the bird while he read:
Dear Abraxas,
How are you? How are things in Africa? I'm fine. I haven't heard from you in several weeks. I know you're busy, but I'm afraid you're not writing because you're angry with me. I'm so sorry, but your dad threatened to break our betrothal, and I couldn't let that happen. Please write to me; every day I wait for an owl that never comes.
I've seen your mum and dad a few times since then. They were at Milton Avery's coming of age party, and the three of us had tea last week at Hogsmeade. They came all the way to see me! They miss you, and so do I.
Abraxas snorted softly. Mother missed him, surely, but not Father. He only wanted his son home to show everyone—especially Abraxas—that his place was under his sire's thumb. "Well good luck on that front, old man, I'd rather die than go home early!" he snarled.
The ice on your pond is hardening up nicely. Soon it will be good for skating, but you won't be here to do it. I look forward to the time you can teach me to skate as you said you would.
Everything's fine at school. Professor Slughorn invited me to join the Slug Club as he promised last year. He asks after you occasionally.
"Of course he does, I'm wealthy and well connected," Abraxas said to no one. On the flip side, the connections ran both ways—Slughorn was in the position to introduce him to people of influence as well.
He said your adventure sounds fascinating, and he'd like to discuss it when you get home. When are you coming home? Your mum said at the end of June, but your dad laughed and said he believes it will be much sooner. Why does he think that? Don't you like it there?
I have to go to class now. I hope you write soon and that you're alright.
Your betrothed, Eileen
Abraxas threw the letter onto the dirt floor and incinerated it with an incendio. It was best not to have any letters about, no matter what they said. Besides, he didn't need to read it again in order to respond, it was the same sort of thing Eileen usually wrote about. Not that he blamed her, of course, she was a child writing childish things.
"What'cha got there?" asked Frank, sticking his head into the tent in time to see the letter go up in flames. He relaxed visibly to see his friend alive and well, not in any obvious pain or distress.
"Letter from Eileen," Abraxas answered shortly. "I suppose I ought to write to her soon."
"You haven't been writing?" Frank exclaimed in surprise. He wrote to his fiancée daily, though to be fair he was deeply in love with her. Letting the tent flap fall, he closed it tight against wandering animals.
His friend shrugged. It wasn't like he had any interest in the girl. "You'll be glad to know I went to Dr. Hodgins earlier. She may be able to find a way to negate the effects of the disk."
"That's great news! What caused your change of heart?"
To tell or not to tell? It could have been innocent enough for Thalia to come to the tent of her friend to talk, right? If Frank had seen her come or go, he might wonder. "Thalia came by and found me on the floor. She threatened to bring in a doctor if I didn't do it myself."
Frank burst out laughing. "I should have done that myself months ago. Well, I sincerely hope Dr. Hodgins is successful."
"Not as much as I hope it," Abraxas replied, lying down again. "Sorry, but I need to sleep. We can talk in the morning." A few minutes later, he was snoring softly.
Frank dimmed the light and sat on his own cot. The owl, which had finished its water and crackers, had apparently decided it liked the pillow on his bed. He shooed it off, and it complied with a harsh hooting before settling on the blanket set on the trunk at the foot of his bed. He wasn't very tired, but they had to get up early and Abraxas wasn't exactly good company at the moment anyway. He could go look for someone else to talk to, yet most had retired to their tents already. Slowly he lay down, staring at the darkness of the top of the tent. Taking out his wand, he charmed it to look like the night sky, complete with thousands of tiny stars. Maybe, underneath the real sky, his beloved was looking up and thinking of him, too. He smiled at the thought.