WARNING: This is a very violent chapter. If you are squeemish about abuse or violence, do not read this. It will be explained later, or if you are confused just leave a review and I can explain things in less graphic ways. Also, there is a lot of language in this as well.
As I listened to Dominique harp on about things I already knew about the situation, the elation the kiss had brought me was steadily fading into undiluted fear.
"Is that all you need for three weeks?" Professor Anselm asked, eyeing my rucksack. I just nodded; there wasn't much else I owned, apart from my school things. He shrugged to reply, as if to say 'if it suits you'. My relationship with that man had taken a turn for the better, as he actually found it difficult to watch a student walk to her doom. And to think I thought he had no heart ... he actually did give half a damn.
Sorry. It wasn't the time for sarcasm. It's better than crying, though.
"We'd better get going, Nicole," Dominique said, with an air of exasperation and superiority. I fought the urge to roll my eyes, even though my knees were shaking, as I started to follow her. Professor Zabini squeezed my shoulder, though, just as I was about to walk into the fireplace.
"Nick?" he asked, giving me a worried look. I knew what he was trying to say. I also remembered last night, and my little ... scene.
"I'm sorry," I blurted out, but gave him a smile, to answer his question. "See you after the holidays, sir." I knew I was taking Owen's line, but it was what Professor Zabini needed to hear. He just laughed, giving me a smile that told me he was proud of me, no matter what was about to happen. Even though I planned on trying to come back, it made me glad I'd tied up all the loose ends. The ones that mattered, anyways. James Potter could gladly live the rest of his life not knowing it was me who put snakes in his bed.
"Nicole," Dominique snapped, and I followed her through the fireplace, taking one last look at Hogwarts out of Professor Anselm's window. When I arrived on the other side, my breath caught in my chest. It was almost exactly the same; the same worn sofa, the same hippogriff heads, and the same person.
Even though he was almost ten years older, probably just entering his forties, he looked almost exactly the same. Same tall, muscled frame, same lumpy nose, same crazy eyes, same cropped brown hair, same clothing. His hair was sprinkled with grey, though. But what scared me the most about him was the same smile, the one that sent shivers down my spine. I gripped my bag tightly, and tried to keep the tremor out of my voice.
"Hello, Justin," I greeted, and though my voice was strong, I was still shaking. Being in the same room with him was making me uneasy, and I was rediscovering the ways to escape. Because, Owen was right. If it came down to dying and running, it was what I would do. I wouldn't be brave enough to accept death.
"Nick," he replied coldly, his eyes running up and down my short frame. I felt downright uncomfortable now, and even Dominique looked slightly bothered.
"Where are the others? Liam said you had four other children here?" she asked, and he immediately switched from slightly creepy to charming.
"Oh, they're at school. I think it's good for them to be around Muggles, and their holiday doesn't start till next week," he replied smoothly, and Dominique looked slightly more assured.
"All right. I'll pick Nick up on the third," Dominique informed him, before walking back into the fireplace, quickly saying 'the Ministry of Magic'. Then, she was gone. I was frozen in place.
"Hello ..." he prompted, and I remembered what had been drilled into my head the first time I was here.
"Sir," I replied, mustering as much sarcasm as I could into the one syllable.
"Better, girl. I thought you might've forgotten," he admitted, before circling me. Then, as quick as a sphinx, he lashed out a fist. I knew it was coming, though, and dodged it.
"You've learned some new tricks," he noted, but I knew he was trying to make me cocky. He attacked again, this time with more rigour, and it was all I could do to deflect his blows. When I was seven, I had stood no chance. His punishments were simply insane, but at least he gave you the opportunity to fight him. He respected the right to fight back, to at least attempt to defend yourself. Until you landed a blow.
After a minute or so, I didn't see as he swept his foot low, and my feet came out from under me. I was defenceless, and lying on the floor. He tsked.
"Better, but not nearly good enough," he said briskly, but I noticed that his breathing was harder and faster. I had made him work. Satisfaction rushed through me, until he drew his fist back. I tried to roll away, but he had anticipated my move and pinned me down. I had lost the fight. There was no point even trying to fight what came next. There was nothing I could do about it. Eventually, I blacked out.
When I came to, my breath immediately sped up. I recognized the place immediately; the cellar, a permanent punishment for when he had reached his limit with you. There were three bunks, all secured to the wall with charms and bolts, in the dark room. Nothing more, nothing less. I saw that only one other bunk was in use, because there were two children, a boy and a girl, staring at me. Their eyes still had hope in them, despite their bruised faces. I tried to move, but found my hands were unnaturally heavy. I looked down, using the dim light from the single window, and figured out that there were magical bonds around my wrists that were attached to the wall nearest me. But these were special; every time I moved I felt a shot of pain in my wrist.
"So you're the girl he built the chains for?" the boy asked, scuttling down from the top bunk gingerly to get a better look at me. "He's been waiting for you for weeks."
"I guess so," I replied. "What's your name?" I wasn't very good with children normally, but it was different in places like these. I needed to be someone they could look to, at least that was how I felt about the older kids when I was their age. God, they couldn't have been older than ten. They were just kids, and they were being locked in a cellar andbeaten. I wanted to vomit, or at least punch Justin in the face.
"Lucas," he replied, smiling. 'Lucas' winced, though, probably because of the large cut on his cheek. I knew what that meant. Otherwise, he looked a rather lot like Scorpius, in the basic sense. Blonde hair, grey eyes, but his nose was more curved, and he was a lot more lanky, and I could tell that when he was my age he would be a good foot taller than Scorpius. "Who are you?"
"I'm Nick," I replied, finally managing to sit up. My head exploded with pain, and black dots swam in front of my eyes.
"That's not a girl's name," the little girl replied. She couldn't have been older than seven, with bright red hair and a bruise over one eye. And obviously very logical. God, they were a mini Scorpius and Rose; I could already tell he was protective of her. "I'm Beth."
"I know a girl just like you," I responded, unable to stop myself. "And my real name is Nicole."
"Wicked," Lucas said with awe. "Do you go to Hogwarts? What house are you in?" I laughed again. They were still kids after all.
"She's sixteen, and a Slytherin," Beth answered for me. "My social worker is friends with hers, and hers was complaining about Nick before ... before I came here."
"Is it cool?" Lucas asked, and I hesitated. I thought about everything; the torments, the hexes, but then I thought about Lucas and Beth. Hogwarts was probably a symbol of hope for them. I couldn't ruin that.
"It's amazing," I responded, before glancing at the door. "We should be quieter, though, because I'm pretty sure we don't want him to come back."
"He can't hear us. The walls are probably a foot thick," Lucas said confidently.
"Extendable ears," I retorted. Beth laughed.
"Told you so," she told Lucas. I then learned that she was indeed seven, and that Lucas was nine, and that they generally travelled in a pair, because his social worker and hers knew that they were close. They had good social workers. Well, except for the fact that they were here in the first place ...
"You aren't going to fight us, are you?" Beth asked after a while, looking worried.
"If I do, I'll let you win," I promised her, and both she and Lucas gasped, before babbling on about punishments. "Sh," I said suddenly, and they both quieted. I gestured upward, hearing footsteps, and they both ran back to their bunks.
"Girl," Justin grunted, as he entered the room. Beth looked terrified for a second, until he walked over to me, wand in hand.
"Why hello, Justin," I greeted cheerfully, and he slapped me across the face. I didn't cry out, so he released the chains. My wrists were raw and bloody.
"Hold your tongue," he ordered, before grabbing me by the hair. Lucas and Beth looked terrified, but I just let him haul me off. I mouthed that I was fine to them, and they relaxed a bit. I was anything but, though; I knew where I was going.
Another small concrete room, with pads on three of the walls, weapons on the fourth. You should think twice before trying to grab one, though; they were cursed. That was when I knew just how angry he was. He wanted to beat me up again already. There was never so little time in between them before …
"Still as charming as it was ten years ago," I commented after he threw me to the floor.
"Shut up, bitch," he barked. I wasn't fazed, though.
"Ah, but I was just commenting on the decour," I pushed. He wasn't going to break me this time.
"You need to learn how to shut your mouth," he said, before circling me again. It was only then that I realized he still had his wand out. Though he couldn't use unforgivables, there were a hell of a lot of other curses he could.
Merlin, how had I done this when I was seven? My survival skills had been almost non-existent, because Dominique had only been my social worker for one home (and all I remembered about that one was dropping a wine glass then waking up in St. Mungo's), and my other one hadn't thought I was devil spawn. So it was really only the second bad home I'd been in. I hadn't been prepared for the reality of it, but I learned quickly while I was here. Everyone did. I learned to not care if I hurt someone else if survival demanded it, and to get over it if they hurt me. I learned that caring about people was useless, because in situations like these they could turn on you in an instant if their survival instincts told them to. Hearts and feelings were as useless as music and rainbows in the bad homes.
Looking back, it had started out okay. I'd had a little purple room I shared with two girls, but he wasn't violent in the beginning. I would go to school, do chores, and maybe get yelled at for making a mistake. But after a while, it had started to spiral down. I worried, and made more mistakes, and eventually he got sick of it, and that was when he started beating me up. Eventually it got to the point where my body had become immune normal healing spells, so I couldn't go to school. And I was too stupid anyway, he told me, so that was when I was introduced to the cellar. That was when I had realized just how bad it was.
I was yanked from my thoughts by a curse that knocked me into the wall. I got up quickly, ignoring the pain, just in time to dodge a purple jet of light. Then another. And another. I made the mistake of looking down for a moment, though, and saw a very faint bloodstain. My blood, after he had used that curse. I had to shut the memory out, because I needed to keep dodging. If I was to stand half a chance, though, I needed to disarm him. So I lunged at him, but he cast a petrifying charm. My arms and legs snapped together, and the back of my head hit the floor. I saw stars.
"Bold move," he admitted. "You're one of the only fighters. The others just take it."
"The others are just kids," I ground out, learning I could only move my mouth. "You sick-"
"What were you going to say?" he roared, but I wasn't scared. He couldn't kill me yet; the fun had just begun. He had a whole three weeks to use up before killing me.
"You're a sick bastard. They're not even ten," I replied, not backing down. He let out a yell, before pulling something out of his pocket. I saw a flash of silver before I felt blood run down my face. He attacked again, and blood ran down my left arm, before I felt a sharp pain in my right shoulder. When I looked, there was a hilt of a knife sticking out of it. Screaming in agony, tears began to run down my face, mixing with the warm blood. But the curse was starting to lose its effect- it wasn't his best- but I was still defenceless. The knife was still in my shoulder.
"Now you listen here, you stupid bitch," he whispered, putting his mouth right by my ear. "You're all rotten, and nothing good can come from you. You have bad blood, and nothing can change that. Your parents are who your parents are, and you're all a sour lot," he spat. My eyes were blurry with tears of agony, but I could still see his terrifying expression as he yanked the knife out of my shoulder, before wiping the blood off on my shirt. He released the curse, grabbed me by the hair again, and hauled me off. I blacked out before we got to the room, though.
"Do you think she's dead?"
I opened my eyes, and felt a searing pain in my shoulder. And then I jerked, before feeling another jolt of pain go up my arm. Damn bonds. Anyway, I had reacted so violently because two faces had been looming above me. It took me a minute to realize that they were the faces of Lucas and Beth.
"Obviously not. She's awake," Beth replied, rolling her eyes.
"You must have really pissed him off," Lucas told me with awe. "It took him weeks before he even started hitting me. You got the knife within the first twenty-four hours."
"Don't be an idiot, Lucas," Beth scolded. "You need to be more careful, Nick. He almost killed you." She sounded so much like Rose then, I had to laugh. Then stopped when I realized who else she sounded like. Piper. I tried to work my way into a sitting position, but it was too hard with the pain in my shoulder. I was sure I didn't want to look at it, but when I bit the bullet I discovered that it was neatly wrapped in a (albeit blood stained) white bandage that pinned my arm to my stomach. My wrist was still in the bond, though.
"What's funny about this?" Beth asked at my second of laughter, before crossing her arms. She was only seven?
"Nothing. You just reminded me of someone I know," I told her, trying to smile. I couldn't, though, because the physical pain was too much, and the emotional was even worse. So I dug my wrist into the bond, trying to stop the tears I wanted to cry. Crying wouldn't get me anywhere. It was pointless and a waste of energy.
But, when I tried to sit up again, I almost passed out from the pain. I heard Lucas swear.
"What should we do?" he asked Beth, obviously panicking.
"I'm fine. It's just my ruddy shoulder," I ground out. I tried sitting up once more, and found I could. My breathing quickened, and then my stomach seemed to contract itself, and tears of pain sprung into my eyes. I had forgotten; I hadn't eaten in at least a day, maybe two. I doubled over, clawing at my stomach with my good arm, and saw the black starting to creep into the ends of my vision.
"I'd forgotten. Beth," Lucas said, but she was already gone. When Beth came back, she was holding a sandwich. I grabbed it and scarfed it down greedily.
"Thanks," I managed to get out through a mouthful of food. Suddenly, a thought came to me.
"Why aren't you two in school? The last time I was here, he always had us go. Patched us up, too, so the Muggles wouldn't ask questions," I asked.
"It's the last week before Christmas holidays. So Beth and I are 'sick'," Lucas explained. "That way he doesn't have to worry about patching us up."
"Nicole," Beth started, looking at my probably furious face. Her voice was as soft as cat's fur. "Did you fight him?" I nodded, and she burst into tears. "Why? He'll just hurt you more! Why are you even here?"
I sat there for a second, debating what I should do. Then, as if I was possessed, (I would never have done this normally) I pulled her into a hug. I realized that she was way too bony; he'd have a hard time making her look healthy when it was time for her to leave.
"Why didn't you just stay at Hogwarts?" Lucas asked, his voice cracking. I sighed, debating whether or not to just tell them instead of making up some lame excuse. It wasn't as if they wouldn't understand, despite their age. So I launched into my story, and when I was done, both of their faces were pure white.
"The blood on the floor ... it's yours?" Beth asked, and I just nodded. It had been hard enough telling the story within the safety of Hogwarts, but here ... it made it that much harder. Beth burst into tears again, saying how she didn't want me to die, or get arrested, or leave. I just hugged her with my good arm, but it was Lucas, surprisingly enough, who pulled her off, murmuring what Beth needed to hear. Again, Rose and Scorpius. Case closed. But in truth, I was really grateful. I was horrible at this sort of thing, but I had to at least try ... for them. Then, the door flew open.
"Well, isn't this touching," Justin sneered, before grabbing Lucas and Beth and dragging them away. I screamed and fought at the bonds, ignoring the excruciating pain, but it was no use. They were gone. So I just sat and waited as the light slowly left the room. Eventually, it was pitch-black, and I couldn't help but feel terrified. What was he doing to them? I dug my wrists into the bonds, trying to numb the fear with pain. Pretty soon my wrists were wet with blood again, but I didn't care. It was working; the pain was stopping me from focusing on what could be happening to Beth and Lucas. But I still just had to sit there and wait in the pitch black, as the hours passed. The worst part was, as much as I hoped I was wrong, I knew what sick game Justin was playing.
He was making them fight each other.
And there was nothing I could do to help them. And as the hours passed, neither of them came back. Eventually, though, as the light slowly re-illuminated the cellar, the door opened again. Beth, with her bloody lip and already flowering bruises, was thrown into the room. She was downright sobbing.
"Lucas ... he tried to let me win ... but he knew ..." Beth gasped out, before crawling onto her bunk and breaking down. I dug my wrists in harder; Merlin knew what Lucas was facing. But I, too, soon succumbed to exhaustion.
The next week passed in the same cycle of pain. Justin didn't take out his knife again, but I knew it was only a matter of time. He was slowly becoming more and more angry with my remarks and ability to dodge. (But, to be honest, I was losing that ability. Beth said my face looked like pulp, and I could hardly see because it was so swollen) He needed to feel my pain, to pay back the little bitch who'd almost sent him to Azkaban when she was seven. I didn't give a damn, though, because Lucas never came back. Beth was going mad, screaming his name in the middle of the night, and I felt rage bubble inside of me whenever I was forced to look at Justin's face. It was one thing to beat the magic out of me ... but he shouldn't hurt little kids. They didn't do anything wrong. Beth didn't even know who her parents were.
My only outlet was through fighting him. But the wound to my shoulder wasn't getting better, and he was going to stop letting me fight soon. I knew that. It was manageable, though, until the day before Christmas Eve. That was when everything spiralled out of control.
"LUKE!" Beth screamed, obviously having just been woken up from a nightmare. I hadn't been sleeping, (how could I with him up there?) and just sighed as Beth crawled down from the top bunk to cuddle with me. I just held her as she cried, trying not to wince as the shaking of her body brought the hurt back to mine. Justin hadn't taken her since the incident with Lucas, but the bastard knew that by leaving her down here he was hurting her more than what he could have done with a wand or knife. Beth's pain was killing me. It was why I was fighting so hard, though I knew Al and Piper would be screaming at me to stop digging myself deeper if they were here. I could hardly move anymore.
"Nick?" Beth asked suddenly, her voice quiet.
"Yeah, Beth?" I replied, my voice as soft and caring as I could muster. I was furious, but I couldn't let it show. She was only a little kid.
"Can I see your photographs? I know you look at them," she asked, and I sighed. When Al had hugged me, he had slipped three photographs into my pocket. I hadn't noticed them until a few days ago, but now I couldn't stop looking at them. All three of them were taken on Halloween, and two without my knowledge. Scorpius must have taken the first, because it was when Owen had been swinging me around in the Astronomy tower, and we were smiling and laughing like loons. The next was of Scorpius and me, just talking, and I guessed Rose had taken it. The last one was probably my favourite, though; it was of Al, Piper, and I, arms flung around each other and smiling, the last traces of spooky make-up on our faces. In truth, during the past week I couldn't stop looking at all three photos, wondering if I would ever see my friends again. They were what held me together.
"Sure," I replied, pulling them out of my pocket. Beth just stared at them, smiling. Then she turned to me.
"Who are they?" she asked.
"Owen, Scorpius, and Al and Piper," I replied, gesturing to each one when I said their name.
"Are they your friends?" Beth asked. She was so innocent sometimes, and her eyes widened at everything I said. Again, I had to suppress the rage bubbling inside of me, as I thought of how she screamed for Lucas every time she fell asleep. How could anyone do that to her? Oh, I knew how. Justin was a heartless excuse for a human being. Still, I kept my voice calm. For her.
"Yes," I replied, and Beth smiled. I didn't notice the footsteps as I answered all of Rose's questions about my friends. Her favourite was Scorpius, but I knew why. Scorpius was what Lucas would be like when they got to be our age. If he was even alive.
Just then, the door swung open. Justin didn't even say anything, just pulled Beth off of me and released the bonds. After a week in them, my wrists were almost always bleeding. Then I felt an agonizing pain as his hand dug into my right shoulder, and I couldn't help but cry out. Beth let out a squeak of fear, but he just pushed her out of the way before hauling me out of there. Two of my photographs clashed to the floor. I knew something was off; I could practically feel his rage. I had done something. I had no idea what, but I had something bad.
When we got to his little torture chamber, Justin threw me to the floor. Wasn't it sad? I didn't even know his last name; I had only heard my old social worker call him by his first name once, so that was what I identified him as. I would forever hate the rest of the Justins in the world.
Then, he put the bonds back on. My heartbeat pounded in my ears, and I struggled to turn around to see his face. This situation practically screamed 'danger'. When I finally managed it, he was standing over me. In his hands were three things. His wand, the knife, and a belt.
"Well ... what do you chose?" Justin asked, his beady eyes gleaming twistedly. I wasn't just going to answer, though.
"Where's Lucas?" I asked defiantly. I knew I was going down, but I was going to fight until the very last minute. Justin just laughed crazily, and I felt fear wrap itself around me. I had never seen him like that before.
"Your stupid social worker is just like you. Stubborn, insufferable, and always sticking her nose where it doesn't belong. She was just here, seemed to think I wasn't doing a good job of taking care of you. Don't worry, a little bit of polyjuice potion and that was taken care of," he responded. "I don't know why she cared, though. You're a rotten egg, Nicole Warrington. Bad parents, bad kids. I can't let the cycle continue." Dominique actually checked up? No. That wasn't what I could dwell on right now.
"Tell me what happened to Lucas, and I'll play your stupid game," I bargained, my voice shaking with fear.
"He's fine. Staying in an upstairs room now," Justin said, smiling evilly. Rage gnawed at the fear, thinking how much he had put Beth through. But even that couldn't get through the terror. "So what'll it be, girlie?"
I thought for a moment. The smartest decision would be the belt, obviously, then the wand, because it was easier to dodge spells, then the knife, because it was his best weapon. The belt was what he expected me to choose; the Slytherin decision. Well, fuck him and his mind games.
"The knife," I replied, swallowing my fear. Justin grinned evilly. It didn't matter; it was going to be over soon.
What had I done?
I had gotten him to accidentally break the bonds with the knife. He didn't know that, though, and I was waiting for the perfect moment to escape. So far it had been bearable; little gashes here and there. He wanted to torture me; he wouldn't kill me quickly. Until he raised the knife over my stomach, just like he had nine years ago. That's when I knew I had to act. I knocked it out of his hand while kicking at his head, and managed to catch it.
Justin had came charging at me, disoriented by the blow I had landed, and he didn't see the knife in my hand. He ran right into it.
It was lodged in his stomach, but with a roar he yanked his wand and cast a healing charm. Already the blood was diminishing. When he reached me, I froze. He pushed me against the wall, and his voice was low, barely audible.
"You better run, girl," he growled, before stumbling away to heal himself properly. I knew he was being serious, so I bolted.
But I couldn't help but think this was going to be the last time I ever ran. He was going to come after me. This was still all part of his sick fantasy. Like a hunter after a hippogriff.
Except I was the prey in this game.