A/N: I don't own Harry Potter
This is for the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
Assignment #7 - Task #2 - Sawshark:Write about someone who says a lot of hurtful things.
Writing Club April
Disney challenge: 3. Gothel - Write about kidnapping.
Bingo: [1.E - Restriction: No Character Names]
Showtime: 15 - I Only Want to Say/Gethsemane: (emotion) doubt
Scamander's Case: 4 - (emotion) smug
Lyric Alley: 9- You're uninviting, unrewarding
Warning: Torture, death, an attack.
Word Count: 1556
Some mornings it was hard for her to believe it was all real. Some mornings, she would wake up, her entire body tense. Voices echoing through her head, memories she tried so hard to forget. She never could. Those mornings, all she had to do was look to her left. He always slept on her left.
"This side of the bed is more comfortable," he'd argue. She knew that had nothing to do with it. She knew it was because that side of the bed was nearer the door. Nearer any danger that would threaten their little happily ever after. He'd never admit it. He'd never admit everything he did to protect her. She appreciated it. She knew some of it, some of the things he did, but she pretended she didn't. She liked the fact he wanted her to feel as though she could take care of herself. She really could take care of herself, but the fact he wanted to take care of her, well that was something else.
This morning was one of the good ones. She woke, curled against him. His black hair a halo on his pillow. She smiled. He looked peaceful asleep. He looked like a man who had no demons, who had no horrors in his past. She gently reached over and brushed his hair from his face. He stirred slightly.
"Morning," she whispered.
"Morning," he agreed, opening his black eyes. He looked over at her and smiled.
"No nightmares?" he asked.
"None. I'm going to go check the wards, don't even try to argue with me. We both know I can do it."
"I wouldn't stop you," he agreed, pulling her into a tight hug. She nearly melted against him.
"I really need to check them. I'll come back, I promise," she purred. He nodded, releasing her. She flashed him another smile slipping from their bedroom. She walked down the hall, her bare feet brushing against the carpeting. She had nearly reached the front door when something caught her attention. It wasn't anything physical, more like a strange feeling. She froze, her body tensing. She curled her hand tightly around her wand.
"Love?" she called out, hoping he'd decided to follow her.
"You wish," a deep voice growled from behind her. She spun, shooting off spells as she moved. A gloved hand grabbed her wrist, squeezed until her fingers were forced to drop her wand. She yelped.
"Good little, Mudblood, stay quiet," the voice growled. She tried to see the man's face, but the mask he was wearing covered it. She recognized it as one of the Death Eater masks.
"Let me go," she hissed, trying to wiggle free. He only tightened his grip.
"You really think we'd let you get away with this? Get away with what you've done?" he asked.
"I don't know what you're talking about!" she screamed, kicking at him. Her one foot connected with his knee and she fell to the floor. She grabbed her wand, staying close to the ground.
"Petrificus Totalus!" she screamed, not missing this time. The Death Eater fell to the ground. She shook, running back to the bedroom. It appeared empty, her lover gone.
"No," she whispered. "No, no, it can't... He wouldn't," she whispered, tears filling her brown eyes. Carefully she walked back to the body bound Death Eater laying in the hallway. She reached down and pulled the mask from his face. Blond hair fell from the mask obscuring his face. Blond hair. She sighed in relief.
"How did you get in here?" she demanded, undoing the spell just enough so he could talk.
"How do you think?" he asked. "Where's your lover now? Where's the traitor who stooped low enough shag you?" he asked. "Run away has he? Too afraid to face the consequences of his actions?"
"Shut up! He loves me!"
"Then why did he abandon you?" the Death Eater asked. She fought back tears. He was right. Her lover was no where to be found. Their room was empty.
"He wouldn't. What did you do to him?" she demanded, holding her wand to his heart. "Tell me where he is!"
"He's answering for his crimes," he laughed. Her blood seemed to boil.
"Crucio," she growled, watching the man before her twitch in pain. "Tell me where he is!"
"Now why would I do that? You really think a weak little crucio like that has any affect? The Dark Lord did worse on a nightly basis. You're nothing."
"Crucio," she shouted again, tears falling from her eyes. "What did you do to him!"
"Nothing. I did nothing to him, only sent him to suffer his fate!"
"Tell me where he is or I end you," she hissed, her face contorted with rage, pain. His eyes widened slightly. She pretended she didn't see the fear.
"Where is he?" she asked again. "Where did you send him?" she asked, her eyes nearly glowing.
"A...Azkaban," he stuttered, as the lights flickered around them. She nodded, turned to him, and tilted her head.
"You sent my lover, the man I care deeply about, the man who has been through so many horrors into another one because you lost the stupid war? Sectumsempra," she whispered before apparating from the home, leaving the Death Eater to bleed to death in the hallway.
HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
She pushed past the cobwebs, past the dust and grime the abandoned prison had accumulated since the war.
"Hello?" she called out softly, hoping he would still be aware enough to hear her, hoping he was still alive. A muffled sound came from the end of the corridor. She ran that direction, her feet still bare against the stone. He was laying, a black lump, on the floor. She knelt down besides him, holding him to her.
"Shh, shhh, I'm here now. I'm here, love. I'm here," she whispered, running her fingers through his dark locks. His face was bloody and his one eye was swollen shut.
"I've got you," she promised, gently using her wand to clean his face. "It's not as bad as it looks," she told him. He nodded his head against her.
"Are you able to speak?" she asked. He shook his head. Her anger flared.
"Tongue tie curse?" she asked, hoping they'd only used a spell on him. He shook his head, blood bubbling from his lips.
"They cut your tongue out, for being a traitor. Hold still, I need to fix this," she ordered. He watched her moving her wand. Watched her casting spell after spell. Tears falling from her eyes as each one failed. He wrote the word 'healer' in the dirt.
"Yes, right, hold on," she whispered, holding him tightly against her. He started to go limp, but she managed to apparate them both to St. Mungo's.
"What happened?" a healer asked, taking him from her arms.
"Death Eaters, they cut out his tongue. They kidnapped him. I need to stay with him, could someone get me an auror?" she asked, trying to keep the panic from her voice. The adrenaline was starting to wear thin. The morning catching up as she started hyperventilating. The world swam before her eyes and suddenly everything went dark.
HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
She woke, scared and worried.
"Where is he? Is he alright?" she demanded of the first healer she saw.
"Who?"
"The man I was with."
"Oh. Are you family?"
"Yes," she lied. "I'm his wife," she clarified. It wasn't as if she wouldn't say 'yes' if he'd ever asked. They'd just never found the need for such labels.
"Right this way, Ma'am," the healer said, leading her to a room. He pulled back the curtain. She rushed into her lover's arms.
"You're alive, I was afraid... there was so much blood. I tried..."
He put an arm around her, holding her close.
"We were unable to repair all the damage that was done to his tongue, without the actual tongue..."
"It doesn't matter!" she stated. "We'll just learn sign language, we'll write each other notes," she stated, kissing him passionately. The healer nodded, taking his leave of the room.
"I think I might have killed the Death Eater who broke into our house. I used one of your spells on him."
He nodded, taking her hand in his. Slowly he traced his finger around her ring finger, a silver band appearing.
"Are you actually asking me to marry you?" she asked. He nodded.
"Fine, but you always said we didn't need labels," she stated. He managed to wordlessly summon a quill and parchment.
We don't. But this way, you are officially my wife. No one will kick you out of my hospital room while I recover. You will have legal say in everything, including my medical care.
"So this is just for the bureaucracy?" she asked. He nodded.
"I accept. I love you," she whispered, laying her head against him. He squeezed her hand.
"I know, you love me too," she sighed. "Now all we need to worry about is the blood stains in the carpet, and learning sign language. Easy right?" she asked. He nodded, holding her in his arms. She knew some mornings it was going to be hard, waking up to him, not hearing his voice again. But she also knew at least she would be waking up next to him.