Hamilton Mania, having an argument: angst (evoke)
Showtime, What Comes Next: I'm so blue.
Word Count: 1365
For Sophie
I.
She's fifteen the first time it happens.
Lucretia doesn't mean to end up on the Muggle side of town. For years, she's been told horror stories of how filthy those creatures are, how they're damn near beasts. But it doesn't look so different from Knockturn Alley. The streets are just as dark, just as grimy, and Lucretia is not afraid.
"You're a pretty one."
She nearly screams when the man places a hand on her hip. He's handsome enough—a strange thing, since Muggles are meant to be foul, vile things—and his smile makes her shiver. All Lucretia can do is stare at him, her mouth opening and closing silently. Her hand twitches, and she
"You must be new. How much?"
"How much for what?
His thin lips quirk into an amused smirk. Keeping one hand on her hip, he grips her dark curls and pulls roughly. "How much for you?" he whispers, his lips against her ear.
She still doesn't know what he means, but the words fall from her lips. "Twenty?"
His dark brows raise, and he whistles. "Bit steep. Virgin?"
Her cheeks flush with heat, and she fans herself. Muggles truly are filthy creatures, and yet she can't bring herself walk away from him. "Yes." It's barely above a whisper, but his triumphant grin tells her that he hears it.
…
She's sore as she dresses again. Each movement sends a fresh wave of pain through her body, but she forces herself to ignore it. She needs to get home soon.
"You weren't lying about being a virgin," he says, clearly impressed as he throws strange coins onto the bed. "Would love to have you again."
Lucretia is certain she should feel dirty. Not only has she given herself away to a man, she's allowed a Muggle to touch her and defile her. But she had loved it. There had been something terribly exciting about it, as though this is her own private rebellion against her strict, traditional parents.
"When?" she asks, tucking the bizarre money into her purse.
"Same time next week?"
It's dangerous to make plans, but she nods anyway. "Yes."
II.
Her parents never seem to notice her disappearances. Sneaking out proves to be far too easy, and she finds herself in the Muggle town more and more during the summers over the next two years.
Leaving Hogwarts feels like more of a relief than she had anticipated. She has more time to prowl, to explore, to enjoy.
…
"Good to see you, Cretia."
Her red painted lips tug into a smile. "Miss me, Sir?"
The man—he never gives his name, only ever insists she calls him Sir—grins at her, and it sends a shiver down her spine. Lucretia has been with many Muggles since her first endeavor two years earlier, but none have managed to excite her the way Sir does. Even her first hadn't been as thrilling.
"I have something for you," he says, "to show you how much I missed you."
Lucretia's dark eyes twinkle with excitement at the promise of a surprise. Sir has always been so rough, so hard, and she loves knowing he has a soft spot.
She doesn't ask questions when his fingers curl around her thin wrist. By now, she knows he likes her quiet and obedient; it had been strange at first, but now she loves it. She follows him throw the dark streets until they reach what looks like an abandoned building. Frowning, she takes a step back, shivering despite the summer's warm breeze.
Sir opens the door and gestures for her to enter. She obeys, always his good girl.
Inside, she realizes it isn't abandoned. The lightning is dim, and thick smoke drifts through the air. Lucretia tenses, confused by the strange scent—sweet and mild, almost like a flower has caught fire.
"Haven't tried opium, baby girl?" Sir whispers in her ear.
Lucretia shakes her head. Her tongue sticks to the roof of her mouth, and she can't speak. Sir only laughs and leads her through the smoke, past the half-naked bodies sprawled across the floor. Lucretia stays as close to him as possible.
"It'll make you feel good," he tells her as he sits on a vacant rug. "Don't you wanna feel good?"
She nods and sits beside him, parting her lips for him when instructed.
III.
Opium is beautiful. She doesn't know how only Muggles could know about such a wonderful thing. The thick smoke fills her lungs, and she drifts and drifts, and there is only peace and warmth.
IV.
"It isn't free."
Sir's words feel like a slap in the face. Lucretia shakes her head, shivering. It doesn't matter how tightly she wraps her arms around herself, she can't seem to stop falling apart. "I need it."
She doesn't know why he's being like this. He's given her plenty over the past week, making sure she feels good. How can he decide the opium isn't free anymore?
His dark brows raise, and cruel smirk pulls at his lips. "What would you do for it?" he asks, his fingers brushing through her tangled hair.
"Anything."
"I really hope you mean that."
…
She doesn't care that she can't keep the money she earns anymore. It isn't like she needs it anyway. Muggle money isn't good, and there would be too many questions if she tried to exchange it. Besides, she still has plenty of gold waiting for her if she ever goes home.
"Good girl," he praises, taking the money and counting it. "Busy girl."
She waits, trembling hands wringing together as she bounces on the balls of her feet. The moments between her highs always stretch for an eternity, and she can't help being restless.
Finally, satisfied with his profits, Sir waves her forward into the den. Lucretia thanks him before walking deeper into that sweet perfume of smoke. The girls—who Lucretia knows now are Sir's other girls—barely seem to notice when she passes. They are too caught up in their own ecstasy, letting the opium smoke carry them away.
Lucretia takes a spot in the back corner, smiling to herself. She has worked hard all night, and now it is finally paying off. Now, she can find her peace.
V.
"What the hell are you doing here?"
That voice evokes memories of cold and hatred. It takes her several moments to recognize her own brother. Orion's storm grey eyes narrow as he approaches her. Lucretia considers running, but she is unarmed, and it would be easy for him to Stun her. Her wand is still at their parents' home, kept safely hidden.
"I- I can explain," she says.
Maybe she could on normal days, but her brain is fuzzy now, still caught in that blissful opium haze. Orion doesn't give her a chance, though. His fingers wrap around her wrist, capturing her in an iron-like grip from which she cannot escape.
Not that she has the energy, anyway. She's still floating, still good, and even this isn't enough to force her down.
"I'm so blue," she says. "I need…"
"You need to shut up," her brother snaps. "Do you know how worried everyone has been? Mother has barely left her room at all, and what have you been doing? Hiding in the slums, playing with Muggles."
"It was fun," Lucretia tells him with a giggle.
She doesn't even notice Orion lets go of her wrist until his palm slams roughly into her cheek. With a yelp, she stares at him, shocked betrayal in her wide eyes.
"I hope you had your fun," he says, "because Father will do much worse than I did."
…
She misses Sir and the smoke, the joys of letting men have her body.
Lucretia slaps her palms against her wall, screaming as the chills dig their way into her bones and her stomach twists into knots.
She has too escape.
She needs to get away.
But she knows it is impossible, and she is stuck here, forced back into a life as a Pureblood woman whose only goal is to marry and produce heirs.
A bitter laugh escapes her dry, cracked lips. She would rather be a whore.
