A/N: a non-con trigger warning applies to the last part of the chapter.
May 31, 1998
"I don't want to see him, Trixie," Ginny addressed her own reflection petulantly. "He can sit and wait in the parlor all afternoon with Rabastan and Rodolphus for all I care. Let them keep him company - maybe they'll wind up killing one another!"
One of the Lestrange house elves had popped into her bedroom a few minutes before to inform her that Percy had arrived for his monthly visit. Ginny had thrown a shoe at the bat-eared creature and ordered it to leave her alone before storming off into the bathroom.
"That won't happen," the mirror predicted with confidence. "Your brother, from what you've told me, is too clever and careful to show up without a safe-conduct in place."
Ginny snorted in reluctant agreement.
"He's still your brother, and blood matters," Trixie pointed out.
"Family matters," Ginny corrected with a snarl, hating the way that tears prickled in her eyes. She would rather be angry than sad - sadness was a weak emotion, and she could not afford to be weak. "But Percy's no brother of mine. Not after he sold me to these Lestrange nutters!"
"He did not sell you - he negotiated the terms of an arranged marriage for you," Trixie contradicted. "With your parents deceased, Percy did what any pureblood brother should do for his younger sister."
"Bollocks! Sheer and utter hairy bollocks!" Ginny angrily denied.
"Your brother ensured that your husband and brother-in-law have to refrain from using two of the three Unforgivables on your person. Considering that the Cruciactus Curse is bread and butter for the Lestranges, I would say Percy did rather well for you - certainly better than Bella's family did for her," the mirror opined.
Ginny just shook her head, too disgusted to say anything. Perhaps as to be expected from a Black magical object, the mirror's perceptions - if not its reflection - could be rather warped.
"I suggest that you try to cultivate Percy," Trixie advised. "Unlike us, he's free to use a wand against dear old Roddy and Rabby."
"Percy?" Ginny scoffed. She was about to say that her pedantic middle brother was incapable of hurting a fly, but then she remembered. "My parents are dead because Percy murdered them!" she spat.
"Patricide is not unknown among the Sacred Twenty-Eight," murmured the mirror. "I'm certain Percy had his reasons. Even if the rest of your brothers are hunted down and killed as blood traitors, he has ensured your family line will survive."
"Not if I kill him first," Ginny growled.
"You won't be able to. You're bound by the safe conduct as a member of the Lestrange family."
"I am not a Lestrange!" Ginny protested vehemently, ignoring the ring on her finger. Bile filled her mouth at the thought, and she ducked her head to spit it into the sink.
"Well, what about the baby? It's a Lestrange, isn't it?" Trixie probed.
Ginny said nothing, instead turning on the tap to wash the mess away. She watched it swirl down the drain, deciding that looking into the mirror would not be wise at this moment. Trixie had an uncanny ability to tell when Ginny was lying. She was not yet ready to acknowledge the pregnancy, or share her fervent hope was that the baby was not a Lestrange.
"When are you going to tell them?" the mirror asked. "They will need to know, eventually."
"And I'll tell them, eventually," Ginny snapped. She wanted to hold off a little bit longer, though. Her monthly was already two weeks late and she was almost certainly up the duff, but if she fudged the dates enough, the thought would never even cross the Lestrange brothers' minds that her baby might have been fathered by someone else. She stomped from the bathroom, deciding a confrontational tea with Percy was preferable to being interrogated by the mirror over her pregnancy symptoms.
"Give my regards to your brother!" Trixie called after her, giving a disapproving sniff at Ginny's rude gesture in response.
Percy was seated primly in the front parlor, ankles crossed. Ginny stopped in the threshold, gripping her wand with white-knuckled fingers. "Blood traitor," she hissed at him.
"Now, now, Ginevra," Rodolpus reprimanded, looking at her with bloodshot eyes. "Is that the proper way to greet a guest?"
"Even if he is a blood-betraying weasel," Rabastan grinned at her, a betraying slur to his words.
Unlike either of the Lestrange brothers, who remained slumped in their seats after most a day spent drinking Firewhiskey rather than tea, Percy stood briefly to greet her. "Ginny. How are you?"
"I'm fine," she muttered, not willing to give either Lestrange the satisfaction of knowing how she really felt.
At a gesture from Rodolphus, she poured out the tea for everyone. "How's the Ministry?" she asked once that task was complete, deciding that this one question would be enough to discharge her duties as a pureblood hostess. Percy could easily prattle on about work for the next hour.
Percy cleared his throat in a pompous way. "Rather interesting, to tell you the truth. I've been asked to assist the DOM and MRC in an ongoing research project regarding the origin of magic in humans."
Ginny sipped her tea and made a face as her stomach lurched, realizing that Percy was taking part in the Ministry's barbaric experiments on Muggleborns.
"Oh, so that's why you've been spending so much time at Azkaban, meeting with Mudbloods," Rabastan chortled, more than drunk than sober. "And here I thought you'd found yourself a special friend amongst the prisoners."
Percy ignored him. "I met with Hermione last week at Hogwarts."
Ginny looked up from her sullen study of the Aubusson rug, eager for news of her friend. "How is she? Is the Ferret treating her alright?"
"Hermione seemed quite as usual," Percy replied, picking his words with care. "If 'the Ferret' is your appellation for Malfoy, then the only observation I can offer is that he keeps her close. Very close indeed."
"Keep your friends close, your enemies closer, and keep your women closest of all," Rabastan suggested. "Especially a fuckable Mudblood like that."
Once again, Percy ignored him, addressing himself to Ginny. "Hermione has quite the interesting family history, including a grandmother who died in Grindelwald's War."
"A lot of Mudbloods were killed then," Rodolphus shrugged. "We've barely made a dent in them, by comparison."
"Madam Zabini provided some documents to me which, while inconclusive, seem to show that Hermione's grandmother was a witch, a member of the magical Resistenza that fought against Grindelwald and the Muggle fascists," Percy lectured.
For all her indifference to European magical history, and for all that she had resolved not to speak to Percy more than necessary, Ginny needed to know what this meant for her friend. "What happens if Hermione's a half-blood?" she asked.
"She'll be removed from the MRC's list. That's already happened for several individuals where I could establish the existence of a magical parent or grandparent," Percy replied precisely. "However, Malfoy has indicated that Hermione will remain with him, regardless of blood status."
"Of course, why wouldn't she?" Rodolphus asked belligerently. "Amycus and Flint have half-blood tarts. Witches need to know there are consequences for supporting the wrong side."
"Yes, the threat of being placed in sexual servitude should bring witches flocking to support the Dark Lord," Percy agreed with dry sarcasm.
Ginny snorted with laughter despite herself, causing Rodolphus to look at her furiously and crack his knuckles in a clear threat. He was a violent drunk, and he had been drinking - as usual - since lunchtime.
Rabastan uncharacteristically played peacemaker instead of egging his brother on. "Sounds like your Ministry job is a real hardship, Perce, if you get to rub elbows - or other body parts - with Magda Zabini," he guffawed, changing the subject. "She's still a looker, for all that she's my age. The rack she has on her!" He enthusiastically demonstrated the witch's dimensions with his hands.
"I have only corresponded with Madam Zabini by owl," Percy stated repressively.
"Magda the magnificent," Rabby went on with fervor, oblivious to Percy's sour disapproval. "I'd marry her in a heartbeat, if she'd have me."
"She won't," Rodolphus said as his brother shot him a poisonous look. "Magda likes her Dark wizards, but she won't accept a younger son."
Ginny thought that was a pity. Madam Zabini's husbands were a short-lived lot. Indeed, her body count when it came to Death Eaters was higher than most Aurors.
"Oh, well, at least Weasley's got no shot with her either," Rabastan waggled his eyebrows at Ginny's brother. "Being that he's a younger son and a ginger to boot. Unless you plan on killing off your two older brothers?"
"No more than you, Rabastan," Percy shot back, to the amusement of both the Lestrange brothers. As Ginny knew to her detriment, they shared a very twisted sense of humor.
"Seriously, have you been on any raids yet, Weasley?" asked Rodolphus. "We've got some offshoots of Dumbledore's Army and the Order that need to be crushed like the cockroaches they are."
Rabastan made a face. "The Dark Lord has us hopping all around the British Isles, trying to put out fires. Belfast is out of control, and there are rumors that clans - the McLaggens, the Macmillans, the MacDougals, and others - have put aside their differences and are going to rise up in the Highlands."
Ginny felt like cheering at that news. Seamus Finnigan, give his propensity for pyrotechnics, might literally be sending Death Eaters up in flames over in northern Ireland. His default tactics with Dumbledore's Army, which had proven effective, were to blow things up. Cormac McLaggen was a toe rag, and Ernie Macmillan was a pompous prat on the order of Percy, but she had to give both of them and their families credit for having the courage and loyalty to stand up to Voldemort.
Percy shook his head. "I'm afraid the Dark Lord recognizes my talents lie with the quill rather than the wand."
"Oh, I don't know about that," Rodolphus disagreed. "I heard you acquitted yourself well enough at the Battle of Hogwarts."
"I only did what I had to do," Percy demurred, rousing Ginny's temper that he could so callously describe killing their parents. Under the tea table, she tried a surreptitious Bat-Bogey Hex, but her wand would not cooperate. The safe-conduct held, protecting Percy from her as a Lestrange.
"We'll get you out from behind a desk, Percy, so you can see some real action," Rodolphus said with false geniality. "We've got plans against a nest of blood traitors here on the Cornish coast, and I could use an extra wand. I will speak to the Dark Lord on your behalf."
"It's a chance to get at a part-Veela," Rabastan added, temptingly. "And move up in your family's birth order."
With cold certainty, Ginny knew they were talking about Fleur and, by extension, Bill and whichever of her other brothers were living at Shell Cottage. She tried to think if there was some way she could warn them.
"That's very kind of you," Percy said, with patent insincerity, knowing he was trapped. "I'd be happy to help in any way I can."
Channeling her mother, Ginny gave him her fiercest glare, but Percy looked away, engaging Rodolphus with a question about the manor's architecture.
"Ginny, how are you really?" Percy asked towards the end of his visit, as they walked to the front door. Rodolphus and Rabastan had stayed in the parlor, lazily granting Ginny a few minutes alone with her brother.
She took the opportunity to tell him exactly what she thought of her situation. "How do you think I am, after spending a month as a Lestrange fuck toy?" Ginny hissed. "There's nothing they haven't done to me. Most mornings I wake up wishing that you would have let them Avada me - I'd be better off."
"I could never do that, Ginny. You're my baby sister!" Percy said, appalled.
"You're no brother of mine," she spat.
"Please, is there anything I can do to help?" Percy asked, concern written on every feature.
Back when she was a little firstie and he was Head Boy, she would have been touched. After all, Percy had been the only one of her brothers to notice something was wrong when she was possessed by the diary, even if he not been able to help her. Now, she sneered at his naïveté. "Oh, you've done quite enough already, helping to make the bed I have to lie in with those vile snakes," Ginny hissed. "Now get out!"
When he hesitated on the threshold, she used her wand to push him outside, viciously slamming the door in his face.
Ginny shook her head at her own stupidity as she began to climb the stairs. She wanted nothing more than to sneak into her room and take a nap, but the loud noise would have alerted the two banes of her existence that she was on her way up. She made it up the stairs and more than halfway down the corridor, nearly to the shelter of her apple-green bedroom. Just as Ginny was beginning to hope the Lestrange brothers had passed out and would leave her alone for the afternoon, the door to the master suite opened and Rodolphus beckoned her in.
"Come here, Ginevra," he commanded.
She walked towards him on reluctant feet, knowing what was coming from the heated look in his eyes. Behind him, she caught a glimpse of Rabastan lounging on the bed, his hand in his unfastened trousers as he stroked himself.
"I think we deserve a reward for putting up with your twat of a brother for the last hour," Rodolphus grumbled, his hands heavy on her shoulders.
"I'm not feeling well," Ginny said truthfully. "I think I'm going to be sick."
"Precious Percy made me feel ill, too. We'll both feel better after a lie-down," Rabastan suggested with a leer, just before his brother spun her around so her back was to the massive bed.
"On your knees," Rodolphus ordered, shoving her down when she was slow to obey. Ginny closed her eyes at the sound of his zipper, not wanting to see him. "Open up, little red," he crooned. "Open up, or I'll break your jaw."
Hating him, and hating herself for her obedience, Ginny opened her mouth. Having her jaw bones repaired with Skelegrow was not an experience she wanted to repeat. She flattened her tongue and tried to relax her throat as Rodolphus began to thrust, hands tangled in her hair as he raped her mouth.
From behind, she heard the bed springs creak as Rabastan stood up. With a muttered word, he Vanished Ginny's ugly black dress. She shivered in her underthings, first from cold and then from revulsion as the younger Lestrange began to paw at her breasts. "Your tits feel bigger," he observed hotly in her ear.
"Like melons with freckles," Rodolphus concurred crudely. Her batted his younger brother's hands away and replaced them with his own, squeezing her breasts tightly enough to hurt. Ginny obstinately bit back any sound until he viciously twisted her nipples. Then she could not help but moan in pain, a muffled sound that made both brothers laugh.
"I think our bitch likes it," Rabastan said.
"I doubt it, but Salazar knows her moaning feels good on my cock," Rodolphus panted.
Ginny felt a stab of pure rage. She hated them. Then she realized that Rodolphus had made a foolish mistake, placing himself in an extremely vulnerable position without first placing her under the Imperius Curse.
She bit down - hard.
Rodolphus screamed like a banshee. Ginny gagged and wrenched her head away as the coppery taste of blood filled her mouth, not minding her teeth in the slightest. He screamed again, and her delight in that sound was tempered only by the sudden need to vomit. She did her level best to aim for Rodolphus's polished boots, regretting only that her regurgitated cucumber sandwiches were not nearly so disgusting as he deserved.
"Bitch! You bit me!" he bellowed, backhanding her across the face, hard enough to send her sprawling on the floor at Rabastan's feet.
Ginny curled into a fetal position, protecting the baby, as Rodolphus aimed a hard kick at her prone body. His boot cracked into her ribs and she cried out from the pain and fear as Rabastan raised his wand, targeting her. "No, please!" she begged, knowing it was futile even as a pink jet of light hit her abdomen.
She braced herself for a pain that never came. Instead, the light brightened and Rabastan snapped his wand up, training it on his elder brother. "Immobulus!" he said, freezing Rodolphus with one leg extended back, preparatory to kicking Ginny again. With a casual push to the middle of the chest, Rabastan knocked his brother over. He then offered the same hand to Ginny, helping her up off the floor.
A gleeful grin split his face as he wrapped his arms possessively around her waist. "Congratulations, Roddy!" he announced. "You're going to be an uncle!"