Pairings: Fem!HP/ TMR, (slow burn), more pairings later on.

Disclaimer: I (obviously) do not own any rights of the Harry Potter Franchise.

Rated: M

AU!

Chapter 13: Secrets

It had been over two weeks. They only let her out of the cupboard for under an hour each day to see to her most basic needs. Most of her day was spent in darkness. The only light she had came through the tiny cracks in the vent of the door. She watched the dust particles flitter around in the weak light as she lay on her stomach with her head turned towards the door. Her arms draped carelessly to her sides. It still hurt too much for her to put any pressure on her back. Violet thought she heard raised voices coming from the hallway but she was only half-listening. Nothing outside of that locked door held any interest for her anymore. She had lost track of the days and time, and she didn't care.

Her apathy was suddenly disturbed by the cupboard door being blown off of its hinges. She flinched back as light and dust poured into her small room. The smoke cleared and revealed the faces of Narcissa and Draco Malfoy. Narcissa looked just as elegant as Violet remembered; her pale blonde hair swept into an elegant updo with dark groomed arched brows and almond shaped eyes. She and Draco had the same thin and long aristocratic nose and stormy grey eyes. She was dressed in an elegant black silk robe which showcased the paleness of her skin and hair. Draco was slightly taller than when she had last seen him. His hair was still in the same slicked back style but his skin was tanner. He probably had spent most of his summer outside playing quidditch. His sharp features were becoming even more prominent, the older he got as he was finally losing his baby weight. He had obviously inherited the Malfoy good looks.

Narcissa frowned as she took in Violet's living conditions. "Violet? Are you alright, dear?"

"Y-yes," Violet mumbled. Her throat was coarse and dry. Words felt heavy and out of place in her mouth as she hadn't spoken in so long.

Draco looked at Violet in concern. She was too pale; too thin from the girl he remembered. Those hazel eyes that used to hold the promise of a sharp wit and intelligence looked empty and lifeless. Her hair was matted and tangled. It had lost all shine, like it just wanted to fade into the darkness of the cupboard. She had a deep red gash on her right temple and her right eye was completely bloodshot. Draco suspected that she had other injuries that were either hidden by the dimly lit cupboard, her clothing, or both. He was originally hurt, and a little angry, when she hadn't responded to any of his letters over the summer. Now all of that anger was replaced with worry for her. He should have told his mother about her not responding to any of his, Theo's, and Hermione's letters sooner but he didn't want to seem dramatic.

"We are leaving now. I'll send a house-elf to collect your belongings. Come along," Narcissa said as she held out her hand for Violet to take.

This must have been a dream but Violet decided to go along with it. It was better than sitting around waiting for nothing. She sat up and hesitantly reached out and took Narcissa's hand. Neither Narcissa nor Draco missed her wince when she stood up. Violet had to clutch Dudley's oversized shirt with her free hand to keep it from falling down around her shoulders as Narcissa led her into the hallway and over the unmoving forms of Vernon and Petunia.

"Are they….are they dead?"

"Unfortunately not. Simply stunned, I'm afraid. Though I have a rather overwhelming desire to end their pathetic existences," Narcissa said as she opened the front door and led Violet and Draco to the edge of the driveway to apparate them to Malfoy Manor.

They apparated into an extraordinarily beautiful foyer. The entire hall, floor to ceiling, was covered in black, white, and grey marble. The black marble so dark that it's surface was as reflective as a mirror. There were two grand curved staircases on either side of the hall with high onyx candelabras atop the balusters at the foot of each staircase. The wrought iron railing was a pale grey in color which made their intricate curved design stand out and sparkle, further illuminating the stark beauty of the hall. There were very few decorations in the foyer but it didn't need any. The staircases were clearly the focal point of the room. Violet was too exhausted from the apparition and pain in her back to appreciate the beauty of the hall. She stumbled as they landed but Draco managed to grab her elbow before she fell onto the marble floor.

"Thanks," she mumbled as she adjusted Dudley's shirt once again.

"You're welcome," he said but he didn't let go of her elbow. He was afraid that she was going to fall.

"Draco darling, why don't you help Violet to her room? I need to speak with your father."

Draco nodded at his mother and began to lead his friend away from the hall. Their plan when they had gone to the Dursleys was to invite her to stay at Malfoy Manor for the rest of the summer so they had already had a room prepared for her. Malfoy's didn't take no for an answer. When Hermione had told Draco that Violet's relatives had her live in a cupboard, he didn't want to believe it. After what he saw today, his hatred of the muggle world only increased.

Narcissa frowned as she watched Draco lead Violet up the stairs. She knew that Hogwarts was supposed to keep watch over all of its students who lived in the muggle world so she didn't understand how no one had noticed the kind of treatment that Violet received at the hands of her relatives. It made her sick to think of a witch, especially a witch from proper stock, being so abused by filthy inbreds. Her frown deepened when she saw the growing bright red color of blood staining the back of Violet's shirt as she and Draco turned the corner.

She turned from the entryway, the black silk of her robes swirling elegantly with her, as she began to head for Lucius's study. She knew she would find him there as it was his favorite room in the house. There he worked on his plans for the ministry, met important guests, and continued to advance the Malfoy name in whatever way he could. Narcissa liked to playfully chastise her husband for his workaholic tendencies but in truth his ambition and commitment to his family were some of the things she loved most about him.

"I assume that by the addition to our wards Miss Potter has agreed to stay?" Lucius asked by way of greeting. He could always tell when his wife was near from the soft tapping of her heels on the marble floors.

"I didn't give her much of a choice, but yes. She will be staying," Narcissa said. This caused her husband to reluctantly look up from the ministry contract he was reading and raise a curious eyebrow at her. It was one of her favorite pastimes to give her husband purposefully vague details about something until he eventually became frustrated and just outright asked her. It was great fun to ruffle his feathers.

Those who didn't know Lucius would describe him as cold and arrogant, and perhaps he was to the outside world. He was a Malfoy after all. Their family didn't maintain their position in society by playing nice and fair. However, when his eyes were fixed on Narcissa, there was nothing but warmth and love in them. Theirs was one of the few marriages in the Pureblood world that was a love match.

"As I know that you won't tell me until I ask you," he paused as he finished reading the last few lines of the contract in front of him, "please elaborate."

"You should have seen the conditions those disgusting muggles," she sneered, "had her living in. A cupboard, Lucius! They had her sleeping in a cupboard! The poor thing is starved and has gashes and bruises all over her body. She could barely handle the apparition to the manor."

Lucius had never met Violet Potter but he already knew a great deal about her. She had managed to impress Narcissa on their first meeting which was a near impossible feat. Draco had also been giving him and Narcissa constant updates about her in his letters home. It appeared that the two were incredibly close and Draco constantly bragged about how she had snubbed 'The Idiot Who Lived' for him. She had also caught the attention of both of his Lords, which was certainly intriguing. So when Draco had begged for them to allow her to stay at their home for the summer, it was an easy choice.

"It seems that Hogwarts has failed to protect one of its students, either they were ignorant or complacent. Both are equally damning. It's most certainly an issue to bring before the board of Governors, I think," Lucius said thoughtfully as the wheels in his mind began to turn at all the possible ways he could use this information to his advantage.

"I agree. It's impossible that someone at the school was not aware of how she was being treated. I remember Severus telling me that he had drawn up a formal complaint against those muggles last year."

Lucius hummed in agreement as he decided on the course of action that he was going to take in order to smear and discredit Dumbledore's name with this.

Narcissa entered the bedroom that she had selected for Violet and was glad to see the girl fast asleep under the pale blue duvet cover. She wouldn't have been surprised if the last time the girl had slept in a bed had been at Hogwarts. As she stepped further into the room she saw that the house elves had finished retrieving what little belongings she had from her relative's house. Draco was seated in a blue and gold chair that he had dragged across the room so that he could sit right next to the bed. He was reading a schoolbook but kept looking up, every few seconds, to make sure that she was still comfortably sleeping.

"How is she?" She whispered as she came to stand next to her son. The angry red gash on the side of the girl's face stood out even more against the different shades of blues and whites that made up the bedroom.

"She wouldn't talk other than to say 'thank you.' I don't think she knew what was happening or where she is. She just fell asleep right when she came in here. I had the house-elves change her clothes, while I grabbed her some food from the kitchens," he sighed and turned to anxiously look at his mother. Narcissa began to stroke Draco's hair as she tried to give him a reassuring smile.

"What did they do to her? Dobby gave me the shirt, well rag, that she was wearing and it's covered in blood! Look!" he said as he bent over and picked up the extremely over-sized shirt for his mother to examine.

Narcissa began to feel her blood boil as she took the blood stained rag from her son. Oh how she wished that she had killed those muggles rather than just stun them. "I'll send for the family medi-witch to examine and treat her at once. She is safe now, Draco. I promise," Narcissa said as she looked down at the sleeping girl.

"But why didn't she tell any of us? She told Hermione that her relatives didn't approve of magic and that she slept in a cupboard but she never….she never…..," he trailed off as the images of what she had probably gone through were beginning to flash through his mind. He was going to be sick. Draco had lived a fairly sheltered and extremely safe and comfortable life. This was the first time he was being exposed to its harsh and ugly side.

"She had her reasons, dear. It wasn't because she didn't trust you. Sometimes there are things in life that are very difficult to speak about. She probably wasn't ready to face those demons yet. Talking about them makes them more real" Narcissa said softly. "We should let her rest."

She took Draco's hand and began to lead him from the bedroom. She turned back once she reached the doorway and snapped her fingers. The thick blue curtains instantly closed and the girl was tucked in tighter under the covers. Narcissa gently closed the door and began to make her way to the nearest fireplace to floo-call the family's medi-witch.

The medi-witch had put Violet into a magically induced sleep as she had begun to run diagnostic spells over the girl and didn't want to startle her. She was running a high fever and it was apparent that there was some kind of infection. The gash on her temple had begun to scab over, so it wasn't coming from there.

"Check her back," Narcissa suggested as she stood on the opposite side of the bed. She had forbade Draco from coming into the bedroom during the examination as she knew Violet would want privacy and she didn't think her son would be able to handle seeing the full extent of damage that had been done to his friend. It touched her to see how protective Draco was of her but she didn't want him to feel responsible for what had happened to Violet.

The witch lifted up the back of the girl's shirt and both women in the room gasped at what they saw. It was even worse than Narcissa had feared. Violet's back was covered in ugly deep red gashes. There was hardly a spot of skin that wasn't marked, marred in some way. Her back was completely torn apart. It was a canvas that depicted the sick abuses and violent habits of one man. The small sections of her back that weren't currently covered in open gashes had deep raised scars.

"This isn't the first time that this has happened," the medi-witch plainly said as she bent down to get a better look at the damage done to the girls back. "Based on the scar tissue, I'd say that this has been going on for at least six years."

"But she's only twelve," Narcissa said horrified.

"There's nothing I can do about the scarring. Those current welts, based on the state of the infection, are going to leave particularly deep marks. She has a high fever but it could have been much worse. Her magic must be particularly potent to have kept her from falling to infection for this long," the medi-witch mused. She finished her examination with professional dedication and left several potions to be administered to the girl every few hours.

The next few days passed in a blur for Violet. She was stuck in a semi-conscious state as the world seemed to fade in and out around her. All she could see were fuzzy shades of blues, whites, and golds. There were soft voices and cool liquids down her throat. There was sweet blissful darkness and then there was light. Violet gave a dejected sigh as she saw the familiar white marble of the circular sitting room. It was just as she had remembered. Sunlight poured in through the high arched windows as the pale gold curtains swayed gently in the breeze. The air smelt like an exotic blend of lemon and cypress and there, sitting before a small fire, on a throne of woven gold and bronze branches was Ione in all her ethereal glory.

She looked just the same. Her organza robes were the same absorbent black color that seemed to draw all the sunlight in the room directly to them. Her pale face showed no signs of her age as her golden eyes stared serenely at Violet. Her long white hair fell to just above her waist, refusing to move even for the breeze which stirred throughout the room. Upon her head was a circlet of woven branches to match the ornate chair she was sitting on. She reminded Violet of a statue; frozen and beautiful.

"Hello, Violet Potter." Ione greeted her in a musical voice that was soft yet still seemed to fill up the room.

"Hello," Violet replied, still unsure of herself. She went and took the open chair next to Ione while nervously running her hands through her hair.

"I apologize that we have not seen each other sooner. Time works differently here and I'm afraid I'm still not accustomed to the rules of the mortal realm. It has been a long while since I observed your world."

"Why is that?"

"Last we spoke; I mentioned that the connection has been severed. Our realm is full of magic, our bonds to her unbreakable. The connections and ties that bind us to mortals are disjointed. It is difficult to see through the eyes of blind men," Ione responded cryptically.

Violet sighed. These conversations were always so aggravating, as the things Ione said could be interpreted in about a million different ways. Violet always felt like she was getting only half the story and that Ione assumed she would figure out the rest on her own.

"I don't understand most of the things you say," Violet said in frustration.

Ione responded with an airy laugh; "Understanding is usually gifted as hindsight. One day you will see all of the pieces." She soon became serious. "I am sorry for the pain you have gone through, and the pain that yet awaits. You will endure."

Violet looked at the ground. She wasn't sure how much more she could handle before she shattered completely and irrevocably. She could feel Ione's gaze becoming more intent. "I felt you use your powers during the trials to reach the immortal stone. Your natural instincts are impressive. You will soon grow fully into your gifts but you need guidance if you wish to master them. When you return to your school, seek out the chamber where secrets are held.

"And what if I don't want to master them? What if I don't want anything to do with any of this?"

Ione gave her a sad smile. "We seldom have choice when it comes to fate. Go to the chamber and become who you are meant to be. You are not a pawn, Violet Potter. You would do well to remember that."

Before Violet could ask any more questions, she woke up with a start to find herself in a beautiful bedroom, which was most certainly not the cupboard.