Christmas Day came and everything, just as Giselle expected, went to shit.

It started with small remarks, a few snide jabs here and there throughout the morning as they gathered in the kitchen for a festive breakfast. It took Giselle a while to join them as Bartemius ordered that they all dress up for the occasion - "We should look the part, it's tradition," he told them all the night before - and she was greeted with a scolding from her father who had been waiting for her to start his meal and a crude murmur from Junior who insinuated that she was dressed like a whore. She wore a beautiful off-the-shoulder navy gown made from starry chiffon that she bought on a school trip to Andorra but she deliberately tugged on the delicate sleeves to enhance her cleavage in order to further antagonise her brother. By the end of breakfast he was frothing with rage.

Most of the day was spent waiting around as visitors came by with gifts and well-wishes, most of them were Ministry workers who wanted to kiss her father's arse and Bartemius revelled in the attention. Giselle tried to sneak off to the sanctuary that was her bedroom but Adelaide insisted that both she and Junior stay by their side at all times. A few of the well-wishers were younger than Giselle expected them to be, the colleagues that she knew were around Barty's age and the well-dressed gentlemen that paraded through the manor didn't match her presumptions at all. In fact, she recognised a couple of them from her early years at school, they were older students who had graduated while she was in France and their sudden appearance triggered an impending sense of doom. She couldn't shake it no matter how hard she tried, it was planting its cold roots inside of her and the negative hiss at the back of her mind told her to expect the worst.

The worst came during dinner.

Once the visitors had gone, the Crouch family took to the dining room for their grand Christmas feast and they exchanged presents with each other. Knowing Giselle would have gotten her brother and father nothing, Adelaide covered for her daughter and bought the men identical silver signet rings set with tiny emeralds. Giselle wanted to tell them that she had nothing to do with it but the repulsion on Junior's face when he realised that his ring matched his father's was too good to ruin so she sat there with a smug smile on her lips instead. She bought Adelaide a stylish feathered fascinator that complimented her blue eyes and in return, she received a needle-thin necklace with a pendant so small she had to squint to see what it was. Shock paralysed Giselle momentarily when she realised it was a tiny lion's head and she thanked her mother with a broad, authentic smile - she didn't dare say what it was in front of the Barties.

But then it was Junior's turn to give. He threw his book-shaped gift carelessly at his sister and she caught it using her chaser reflexes, showing him that he didn't intimidate her. Without breaking his spiteful eye contact, Giselle tore off the paper and barely glanced at the title but the terrorising cover made her gasp - it was a muggle-hate history textbook and the image of a group of wizards torturing muggles stared back at her.

She chucked the book on the table and glared at Junior. "You're sick in the head!" she spat at him.

"Giselle!" scolded Adelaide, rushing to place her goblet back on the table as she gasped at her daughter in horror.

"But look at this shit!" she shouted, shoving the book across the table so they could see the dirty piece of propaganda and Bartemius pounded his fist against the mahogany table, causing the silverware to quake. Giselle caught her glass goblet before it toppled over.

"Hold your filthy tongue, young lady. For once let's have a pleasant meal," he barked at her from the head of the table and she gritted her teeth, holding in her screams. How could he excuse this blatant treacherous behaviour? Junior's alignment to the cause he was fighting had never been clearer and they were looking straight past it - again!

"Why are you ignoring this?!" it slipped out before she could stop it and she locked eyes with Bartemius. "Are you losing your mind?! This is classic Death Eater behaviour!"

"This has nothing to do with the war that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has caused, Giselle," interjected Junior before Barty had a heart attack, "I've bought you that book because I believe that you've lost touch with your true self. We are a proud pureblood family and we should strive to keep it that way, like Father always said - act right and act proper, keep the family pure."

Giselle swallowed the lump in her throat and crossed her arms, matching her brother's intensity. It was all lies, she knew what the book meant.

"You're so full of shit-," she began but Bartemius suddenly got to his feet and slammed his hands onto the table in front of him, leaning forwards to intimidate his daughter. Her profanity had pushed him over the edge and he wasn't afraid to ruin Christmas anymore.

"Barty told me that you were seen copulating with a Squib in that wretched pub in Hogsmeade!" roared Bartemius, his face resembling a sizzling aubergine colour, and Giselle bit her lip, shooting Junior a quick sneer. Of course he snitched! I'm going to hurt him so badly!

"That's a lie!" she shrieked back, refusing to look at her mortified mother, "no one saw us, it's not a big deal."

Bartemius shook his head, lost for words. Junior sneered and copied him, disgusted at his sister's actions. "It's a good thing Father put you on birth control, who knows how many dirty, little Squibs we could have running around here," he mocked, feigning revulsion at the thought of Giselle reproducing and she instinctively grabbed her wand from her lap. She kept it on her at all times when Junior was near, she couldn't trust him now they were outside of school.

"That isn't enough anymore, I'm putting an end to this," huffed Bartemius, finding his words again with a shaky voice. He was so close to exploding, he had dropped his tone altogether. Giselle gulped.

"What now? What else can you do to me to control my life? Drug me? Use the Imperius curse on me? Order Winky to shadow me for the rest of my life? What?" she asked, each word sharper than ice, and Bartemius took a calming breath, levelling his high blood pressure.

"It is clear that I can't trust you to make the right decision when choosing a potential husband, your tendency to fawn over the wrong sort of people has compromised the future of this family and I'm putting my foot down - you're eighteen now and it's time I search for a good, strong-blooded man for you, maybe he can teach you how to behave. I shall start the arrangements once you've graduated," he announced to the silent room.

"Giselle!"

Adelaide screamed and lurched forwards as the glass in Giselle's hand exploded, sending sharp shards and red wine everywhere. With a flick of her wand the glass was repaired and replenished but her daughter's hand continued to pour with blood. She tried to heal her but Giselle swatted her away, mumbling that she could do it herself.

"I'm not doing that," she told Barty plainly after sealing the deep wounds on her palm, "you can't force me into a marriage."

"Yes I can, I am your father and you live under my roof, you're still my property," he growled and Giselle spluttered, flabbergasted at his claims.

"Your property?!" She looked to her mother to say something but her pink lips were clamped shut and she avoided her daughter's eyes as though she were a Basilisk.

"Be a good girl and listen to Daddy," jeered Junior, snickering into his own drink as he watched the display and Giselle decided that she had enough. She climbed to her feet and gave her family one last scowl, silently telling them to let her go.

"I'm going to bed, goodnight," she spat and stomped from the dining room, heading straight up to her bedroom. She slammed her door shut in an effort to relieve some of her anger but it didn't help, fury pulsed through her in vicious waves and each one brought more horrible realisations. She had to leave, she had to get herself disowned, it was the only way she could be free from her father's control so she could make her own life choices. She thought about her mother who sat there and did nothing, the same woman who was laughing and joking with her brother's family, her family who don't share the same ideologies. She knew her mother didn't believe in what her husband was doing and yet, Adelaide did nothing. That hurt more than everything the Barties had ever done.

"Winky!" rasped Giselle, wiping away her tears as she got to work repacking her trunk. Her body whined, pleading with her to go back to school, and she couldn't ignore it any longer. "Winky, please hurry!"

Pop!

Winky materialised before her with watery eyes and muffled squeaks. She had been in the kitchen when the argument started, she was in earshot of their yells and Giselle noticed the tear stains on the elf's towel.

"Mistress?"

"I'm going back to school, c-can you help me pack please?" she stuttered, cursing herself for breaking and Winky didn't hesitate to help. The pair silently whisked around the room, clearing up everything she needed for school but Giselle started to unpin some of the posters from her wall - she wasn't coming back ever again.

"Can you take everything from the bathroom please?" she instructed, pointing towards the small en-suite and the elf blinked.

"Everything?" she repeated and Giselle nodded, forcefully shoving her heels into her trunk before slipping into her usual black platform boots.

"Everything. I'm not coming back here ever again," she said in a quivering, thick voice and Winky sniffled, nodding sadly as she accepted the truth. She expected this to happen but she didn't think it would happen so soon.

"Winky understands," she mumbled and mournfully made her way into the bathroom to sweep it of its contents. Furiously ignoring the repetitions of her father's manipulative words, Giselle muttered a few expansion charms on her trunk and eyed the piano carefully, debating whether it would fit inside. Before she started to shrink the piano, however, Winky came back with her arms full and neatly packed piles of belongings floating behind her. Everything fit together like jigsaw pieces in her trunk and she promptly closed the lid with a snarp click, signalling that she was ready. She didn't have time to get changed, she wanted to be out of the manor as soon as possible, the furry, iron-grey cloak covered her exposed skin sufficiently and the gown was quite easy to navigate, it would do.

"Is there anything you need before you leave, G-Giselle?" spluttered Winky, softly crying into her hands and Giselle fought her own tears again. She didn't want to leave her, but she had to.

"I don't think so," she murmured, scanning her bedroom for the final time. She had everything she could possibly need stowed away, her Christmas presents for her friends were safely tucked inside the trunk too, although she didn't have a gift for Remus yet. She hesitated, mulling over the contents of her Care for Magical Creatures textbook in her head but she thought of the wretched werewolf's cottage again, trying to picture strange plants that he had in his kitchen. She was too transfixed on the rotting childrens body parts on the table to take much notice of anything else but she specifically saw the vibrant purple monkshood plants scattered in every room, the pops of colour was hard to miss in the dirty, gloomy house.

"Winky, I don't suppose we have any monkshood anywhere?" she wondered, deciding that it might make a good present for her wolfish friend. Furrowing her brow in concentration, Winky nodded slowly and widened her bulbous eyes.

"Mistress Adelaide has some dried aconite in the attic," she revealed in a squeak but she clutched at her throat, choking. Giselle frowned and looked her up and down, baffled. Elves only acted like that when they were close to talking about something they shouldn't - she had been ordered not to say something.

Playing it cool, Giselle nodded and gestured towards her bedroom door. "Let's go up into the attic," she suggested and Winky's pale face started to turn a faint shade of violet as the hand around her neck got tighter. Her drooping ears started to twitch, her master's magic was working.

"You want to go into the a-attic? But Giselle never goes into the attic," she choked, wheezing shrilly with each raspy breath. Giselle, now deeply disturbed, nodded and ripped the door open, demanding that Winky follow her. Something was in the attic, Winky didn't want her to go up there.

"Take me to the aconite, Winky," ordered Giselle, using a deeper voice than before to command the family elf. She didn't like enforcing her will as her mistress over her but this was dire, Giselle didn't care anymore. "Now."

The attic of the manor was haunting, Giselle didn't like to spend long periods of time in the rafters of the house and her family knew that very well. It was a drafty, haunted space adorned with more spider webs and Puffskeins that she was prepared to deal with. Despite being an avid admirer of great beasts, she wasn't a fan of the smaller creatures, specifically house-pests. Silencing their footsteps with a charm, Giselle and Winky crept up into the dark, ghostly attic and searched for the potions ingredients, using Giselle's wand as a torch and a pest-repellant. Winky shakily led Giselle towards the back of the house towards a shelved section that Adelaide had fashioned into storage, rows upon rows of jars sparkled in the wandlight and Giselle scoffed, rather impressed at her mother's organisational skills.

"So this is where she keeps her stash," she muttered, pursing her lips at the bountiful shelves before stealing the glass jar full to the brim of violet poisonous flowers, "is this why they told you to keep me from coming up here? Because I would steal everything?"

The elf tried to move, she urged her whole body to answer her mistress' question and Giselle watched in concern as she spasmed on the spot.

"Was that a nod or a shake?" she deduced, crouching down into her puffy skirt to read Winky's face, "is there something in here that I shouldn't see?" Her eyes widened in fright and she covered her mouth when her subconscious hissed, reminding her of her brother's crimes.

"Has Junior hidden something up here?" she whispered, nervously checking the coast in case he had followed them up here, but Winky shook her head.

"Oh," pouted Giselle, her shoulders sinking in disappointment. She was so sure… "What is it?"

Even in the dim light of her wand, she saw Winky try her hardest to fight her gag order. The shadows on her face highlighted her fear and her watering eyes were flicking all over the place, but they consistently landed on the same spot every time she squealed.

Giselle followed her agitated gaze towards one of the tallest shelves in the attic, a crooked stack in the space that was directly above her bedroom. It was obvious as soon as she noticed it that someone had attempted to cover something, the beaten leather trunks holding forgotten heirlooms were perched vicariously on top of each other, hiding something from view. Increasing the brightness of her wand, Giselle gingerly approached the stack, cautious of the loose floorboards under her feet, and she found two black embossed chests shoved in the corner, gathering dust. It wasn't particularly exciting, she felt her heart thud in discontent and lazily kicked one of them, annoyed that it wasn't a forbidden dark artefact her brother had been nurturing.

"What is it? More family junk?" she asked bitterly. Winky came up beside her and finally let go of her throat, gasping for air.

"Your father told Winky to do it, she didn't want to do it…" she breathed, hoarse from her struggles, and Giselle's arm fell limply at her side. Her dinner churned in her stomach at the prospect of finding out what her father had done this time.

"What did you do?" she asked her, trying to keep her voice steady, and Winky looked at the chests once more, her bottom lip wobbling from her guilt.

"Winky can't do this anymore, Mistress deserves to take everything with her," she told her in a whisper, it lingered in the air like a dying piano note and the impending sense of doom was back, it whacked Giselle in the gut and she was blinded by tears. Her hunch had changed and it got stronger, digging its nails into her back and dragging her down. Without thinking, Giselle launched herself at the chests and tried to pry them open, desperate to see its contents. She didn't care about the thick layer of dust coating her pretty dress or the spiders scampering away from the giant that had disturbed their habitat, she was starting to panic.

"No, no, no, no," she repeated over and over again, the sick mantra steadying her shaking hands. The locks clicked and she struggled to rip the lid off but as soon as she tore the chest open, the sobs trapped inside of her exploded and they possessed her, finally setting her free.

"NO!" she screamed, distraught by the sight of the letters. Hundreds, no, thousands of envelopes stared up at her, a treasure trove of crisp brown paper that had been waiting for years to meet its true recipient, and the appearance of his elegant scribbles broke her all over again. Sirius' letters, all of them, were right there. She shoved her hand in and grabbed a fistful, needing to feel that they were real and not a hallucination and she began to cry into the trunk when she read the names on the front - Giselle... Elle... Miss Crouch... Princess... Fucking Bitch... The Devil Incarnate - she was in awe.

"I'm so sorry Mistress," sniffled Winky, crying with the distraught girl on the floor, cradling the missing letters as though she were afraid they would disappear. Giselle couldn't focus on the elf, she was trembling and lost all feeling in her limbs. She was blindsided by the force of her emotions, it was all her fault, no, her father's fault they hated each other. Sirius hadn't forgotten about her at all, he wasn't lying. She pawed through the chest and found packages, postcards, howlers, paintings, and even letters from Remus, James and Peter. Everything unravelled and the mist lifted from her eyes, she was born again.

"Fuck!" roared Giselle, suddenly flaring up in rage. She had never felt this angry before, she couldn't feel her face and she suddenly realised she was on her feet again, her wand in her hand. Bartemius had crossed the line this time, she wanted to hurt him like he hurt her, she wanted him to burn. She tasted blood on her tongue but she spat it out, deliriously fired up.

The other chest caught her eye and Giselle ripped it open as though it were made from flimsy wet paper and she laughed humorlessly when she saw all of her letters and presents for him. Every single one. He stole every correspondence, every thought, every feeling from her and Sirius and destroyed their relationship without them even suspecting him; she felt betrayed, by her own blood.

"Master Crouch wanted Winky to get rid of it all, but Winky couldn't… Winky couldn't do it… She saved everything for you," squeaked the house-elf, bringing Giselle back into reality and she scooped her up into a sudden hug, pecking her fuzzy forehead in thanks.

"I can't ever repay you for this, I don't know what to say," she sniffed, smearing her mascara as she wiped away her tears for the final time. She needed to pull herself together and evacuate the toxic manor straight away, she needed to go back to Hogwarts now more than ever.

"Winky told you they were meaner than you think," said Winky, blinking up at her with a toothy grin, "I's been trying to tell you."

"Well we got there eventually, better late than never," sighed Giselle, glancing down at her chests in sorrow. "This is going to be painful… Can you take this one downstairs and pack it for me?" She nudged the chest full of her letters for Sirius and Winky nodded furiously, wishing nothing more than to right her wrongs. "Take the monkshood too," she added, gently chucking the jar at the elf.

"What are you doing with the other one?" she asked, clicking her fingers and vanishing the chest and jar in a blink. Giselle scooped up the remaining box and held it tightly, unfazed by its hefty weight. She needed to let him know what she thought, she couldn't leave without causing a scene, that wasn't who she was.

"I'm going to have a little chat with Barty," she drawled, her mouth automatically filling with venom and the mention of her father, "wait for my signal and meet me out in the front courtyard with my trunk."

Pop!

Giselle slowly made her way down towards the entrance hall, the box containing Sirius' letters in one arm and her wand in the other. She had protected the chest before she left the attic, she couldn't risk her father trying to destroy them before she had the chance to read them and she knew he was the type of man to do such a thing. She calmed the belligerent beast inside that was begging for her to go in with her wand already poised and hollering but the clown urged her to stay cool, keeping her nerve was far more impactful.

When she reached the centre of the decorated foyer, Giselle heard footsteps coming from the kitchen and turned to smile at Adelaide who came to investigate. She spotted the chest in Giselle's arm and the cleaning rag in her hands dropped to the floor, her mouth falling open like a broken ventriloquist dummy. Her heart broke even more and Giselle sobbed, shaking her head incredulously.

"You knew?!" she whispered, staring at her mother as though she had just confessed to murdering Eris. It was just as bad, she never thought her mother would agree to this?! "You're just as sick as the rest of them!" shouted Giselle, breathing heavily.

"Giselle, listen-," Adelaide tried to reason but Giselle wasn't giving her any chances.

"I'm never listening to anything you say ever again! How can I trust a single word that comes out of your mouth after you've hidden all of this from me for years?!" Her shrieks echoed in the entrance hall and the portraits of her ancestors hanging on the tall, embellished walls stared down, gossiping amongst themselves. She spotted her own portrait and fought the tears when she noticed herself crying into her hands, shying away from the rest of the family.

"What's going on here?!"

Giselle wiped the tears and laughed mercilessly as Bartemius stormed into the hall from the grand living room doors, glaring at the women for disrupting his evening again. The disdain almost swallowed his mean features when he eyed his daughter but all colour drained from his face when he recognised the chest. The beast inside her roared, spitting flames at his reaction and the bubbles in her stomach grew. She was shaking head to toe and her wand hand was getting twitchy.

"So, funny story," she laughed cruelly, narrowing her inky eyes as she gestured to the box, "I was searching through the attic for some aconite and I stumbled upon this… By the look on your face, Daddy, you know exactly what this is."

"Did Winky show those to you?" was his first question and Giselle scoffed, throwing the chest onto the ground with a thunderous thud.

"No she didn't," she lied, not wanting to snitch on her elf, "I found them locked away in a corner, right above my fucking bedroom! You're the evilest man I have ever met, Voldemorts got nothing on you!"

Bartemius snarled and took a few more steps towards her, his own wand hand twitching restlessly towards his pocket. "I did what I did to protect you. That Black boy messed with your head and filled it with dangerous ideas and he led you astray. You clearly lacked the ability to stay away from nonsense and I took certain measures that were more than appropriate," he said fiercely, looking her directly in the eye. Adelaide clutched her mouth and watched in silence, too stunned by the scene to get involved.

"You're an arsehole! You're a selfish, arrogant, conniving arsehole!" yelled Giselle, hating how easily everything fell into place. "He was the best thing in my life and you took him away from me, just like you took Eris and Flash, you ruined everything I ever loved - YOU'RE A MONSTER!"

"I'm not the monster, he was the one that ruined you and turned you into a monster! You were never this girl before you started school, you were polite and kind, you had a bright future ahead of you and you've thrown your entire life away because of what that scum did to you! I made the right choice, you're better off without him," Bartemius believed his own words, she could hear it in his drawl. It made her feel physically nauseous.

"No, Father. You did that to me, it was you who ruined my life and everything I've done that's supposedly destroyed my future, I did because of you - not Sirius," she corrected him. The mention of his name lit a match under her father.

"BLACK IS A MENACE! I WON'T LET HIM GET TO YOU AGAIN GISELLE! STAY AWAY FROM HIM!" His bellows hurt her ears and she winced, scooping down to seize the chest again. Barty was almost glowing from his rage and her gut wrenched, urging her to leave now. He was going to make her stay whether she liked it or not.

"I'm leaving," she spat, backing away from her murderous father, but she froze when he raised his wand arm.

"No you're not," he threatened dismissively.

"Barty, don't!" cried Adelaide, alarmed.

"Incarcerous!"

Faster than a whip, a shining black rope shot out from Bartemius' wand and wound around Giselle's biceps, yanking her away from the front door. The sheer force caught her off-guard and she stumbled, her boots sliding against the marble floor as she shot towards her father.

"You're staying right here," he growled but Giselle flicked her wand and severed his ropes, ripping her arms out of his grasp. The chest never left her hands.

"If you want to fight, Father, we can fight," she ridiculed him, narrowing her eyes and mockingly bowing towards him, kicking the useless ropes out of her way.

"Don't be an idiot," snarled Barty but a sudden loud whoop from the top of the stairs stole Giselle's attention and riled up the beast inside of her - Junior had been watching them.

"Teach her a lesson, Father!" he cheered, sneering in glee at the scene.

"Fuck you Junior!" shouted Giselle and she shot a stinging hex at him. Unfortunately he dove out of the way just in time and the searing red spell blasted the bannister, splintering the vintage wood. Outraged that she dared to use an offensive spell under his roof, Bartemius acted how he saw fit and rolled his sleeves up. Giselle saw his wand but it was too late.

"Imperio!" he shouted.

"BARTY?!" roared Adelaide, beyond horrified.

Giselle groaned and fell into nothingness, her body was not hers anymore. Staring at her parents didn't feel like a punishment, she almost felt herself smile. The feeling of the Unforgivable curse was blissful and enticing, she knew that doing whatever her father told her to do was a wonderful idea but the persuasive hiss in her ear didn't sit right - she didn't want to listen.

Hand over the chest and go to your room, it purred gruffly and Giselle squeezed her eyes shut, hating how good the suggestion sounded. She couldn't hand the letters to him, she'd never see them again.

"I can't," she spat through her teeth, using all of her strength to fight her father's power.

You will do as I command, I am your father!

"NO!"

It was like ripping off a suffocating layer of clothing, Giselle threw the curse from her body and grasped her knees for support, aching all over from the dark magic invasion, but she didn't have time to catch her breath. Her eyes back on the front door, she turned to run but Bartemius beat her at her own game. Another rope rocketed from his wand and lassoed her, violently dragging her back and she squealed in fear, succumbing to his might at last. His nails scraped her arms, trying to maintain a firm hold of her, but she didn't give up.

"Get off me!" she cried, pushing against his chest but her excessive struggles snapped something inside of Bartemius.

THWACK!

Giselle had never been hit so hard in her whole life, especially from a fully-grown man, and she was truly amazed that she wasn't unconscious. An excruciatingly hot stab of pain pierced her skull and she swore her right eyeball had burst, all she could see was red. Her brain was lagging, she was seeing double, did her head always feel this big? Something warm trickled down her cheek but she couldn't tell if she was hallucinating or not, everything didn't seem real. Blinking the stars out of her working eye, Giselle peeled herself from the marble floor and scrambled for the chest at her feet, it was her only priority. Her wand was still in her other hand and she almost laughed at the sight of the blood on the floor.

Hysterical cries invaded the foyer but Giselle couldn't quite hear what her mother was saying, a numb thudding had settled in her ears and it matched the rhythm of her pounding headache, she guessed she might be concussed. Her subconscious reminded her to escape, her good eye found the door and she ran as fast as her knocking knees would allow, stumbling over her feet as she fled. She didn't look back, she didn't want to look at them or their hellish manor ever again.

Winky found her before she could call her. The cold winter night air slapped Giselle in the face the moment she exited the manor and she rasped, whimpering as her broken eye stung from the drop in temperature. Tiny pinpricks ravished her body and she collapsed onto the elf, shivering from shock.

"Take me to Hogsmeade," she whispered, hastily shoving her head under her hood to hide her bloody injury. Flinching at the sight of Giselle's gorish face, Winky clutched the trunk handle in one hand and the crying girl in the other before apparating to Scotland.

Pop!

Hogsmeade was much quieter than Giselle expected but she welcomed the silence with another pained groan. They were in the town square, a pretty cobbled area decorated with seasonal flora and intricate stone benches, and not another soul was in sight. In the distance a pair of foxes hopped about in the snow and Christmas ballads floated through the still air. It was rather eerie but the sudden nothingness was what she preferred. Giselle gingerly took a seat on one of the benches and sent Winky back to Crouch Manor, not quite looking her in the eye. She wasn't great with goodbyes, she didn't want to hurt her.

Pop!

Cradling her thumping head, Giselle leant on her trunk and tried to think of a plan but the throbbing of her suspected broken eye-socket was the only thing on her mind, she couldn't think straight. She didn't want to linger on the fact that her father just flat out physically attacked her but she didn't want to break down again. There was too much to unpack.

Logically she should avoid everyone, break into Honeydukes and use the passageway to sneak back into Hogwarts, but she needed urgent medical attention. She was too weak to perform the spells herself and the frostbitten weather was starting to affect her, she couldn't stop shivering. The lights of the Three Broomsticks down the road caught her eye and she immediately agreed with the first idea that popped into her head - it'll do.

The closer she got to the pub, the more nervous she got. She was dressed up in her best clothes, she had all of her possessions with her, and her face was busted up; someone was going to work out what happened, it didn't take a genius to figure it out. Tugging on her hood, Giselle dragged her trunk up to the front double doors, dumped the chest on top of it, and politely knocked three times. There were shadows behind the checkered drapes, Hamish told her how his aunt was fond of throwing late-evening Christmas soirees and they tended to overtake the entire pub, she knew someone would have heard her.

The door swung open and warm light trickled out but Giselle instinctively kept her face in shadow, not wanting to highlight the abuse.

"Oh! I wasn't expecting another guest," proclaimed Madam Rosemerta suspiciously, drawing her wand, and Giselle bit her lip. She needed to show her face. "Who are you?"

Giselle bravely removed her hood and flashed Rosmerta her prettiest smile to combat her ugly face. The landlady gasped and blinked hard, stepping closer to inspect her injury.

"I'm so sorry to interrupt your party but my name is-,"

"I know who you are, Hamish won't stop nattering on about you, sweetheart," said Rosmerta soberly and she beckoned her to come inside, "Giselle, my dear, what happened to you?!"

She hesitated and stared past the kind woman, frightened at the thought of more people staring at her. "Uh, I just wanted to borrow an owl, I need to see Professor McGonagall, or Dumbledore, or anyone at the school really…" she mumbled, avoiding her door altogether. Rosmerta rolled her lips and glanced behind her, checking the coast.

"As a matter of fact, half of your teachers are already here," she revealed and sidestepped, persuading Giselle to join her again. "There's a small cupboard just in here with a mirror, you can wait in there while I get them? It's awfully chilly out here, you'll catch a cold." Licking her frozen lips, Giselle begrudgingly agreed and scurried inside, bringing her trunk and chest with her.

It took her a while to build up the courage to face her reflection, she didn't want to know the extent of Barty's damage as it would mean that he really did hit her. The dying light flickered on and Giselle stared at her face in terror, appalled at what she saw. Her right eye had disappeared behind a sticky, swollen mass of bloody and bruised skin that resembled two purple sausages, she couldn't work out where her cheekbone had gone and her eyebrow had fallen slightly, lopsided from the broken bone. The most she could stomach was a small cleaning charm to remove the dried blood and every prod from her wand sent searing spasms through her head. The threat of tears stung her eyes and she cursed herself for getting upset again but the cupboard door creaked open, letting her know she wasn't alone.

Professor McGonagall's gasp made her stomach whine and her bottom lip wobbled when her head of house took in her appearance. From behind her, Professor Dumbledore met her good eye and frowned, heartbroken.

"Giselle, I… Are you ok?" asked McGonagall gently, putting an arm around her shoulders and herding her from the confined space. Giselle twitched and nodded, stumbling over her words. All she wanted was her bed in the Gryffindor Tower, she didn't want to talk about it.

"I'm fine, it looks worse than it is," she croaked, clearing her throat. She looked up at them and tried to smile. Sorry for the short notice but I would like to come back to school please."

"Of course, but I have to ask for the safety and well-being of everyone here," responded Dumbledore professionally, "was this the work of the Death Eaters?"

Giselle shook her head, rather annoyed that it wasn't. She'd much prefer to admit it was the wrath of a follower of Voldemort and not her own father. "No, this is… uh, a sort of domestic issue," she assured them, trailing off so they wouldn't try to pry into her evening. "Please can I go up to the castle? You don't have to come-,"

"Don't be silly, Giselle," tutted McGonagall sternly, looking at her over her spectacles, "I'm not letting you go back by yourself." It was the smallest of sentences but it felt like a warm hug, tears rolled down her cheeks and she timidly nodded.

"Thank you," she squeaked.

"Use the fireplace, my dear," suggested Dumbledore, shuffling out of the way so the ladies could evacuate the tight space, "I can allow you passage through the Floo network."

"No!" blurted out Giselle, mortified. She didn't want to enter the pub, this cupboard was already too much. "I need fresh air, the walk will do me good."

"I don't mind walking," agreed McGonagall, sensing the girl's nerves. She fastened the buttons on her cloak and took the trunk and adjoining chest from Giselle's hands, "Highland air is the best refreshment for the soul."

"If you insist, Minerva, but I always preferred the sea air myself," he sighed, readjusting his silken cap with a small nod towards Giselle, "Take care, Giselle. Do not hesitate to visit my office at any time," he told her, his bright blue eyes twinkling, and she thanked him with a soft nod. She kept his offer in the back of her mind, she knew she would need it one day soon with the way Junior was behaving.

McGonagall led Giselle out of the pub and up the path towards Hogwarts, both of them unbothered by the few feet of snow surrounding them. Her professor didn't force her to talk nor did she badger her with questions about her night, she simply stuck to her side and steadied her when they crossed a particularly icy patch. The walk did her good, the crispness of the air on her tongue cooled her down and the silence gave her a chance to go over everything that happened, the events of the evening repeating like a fever dream in her scrambled mind.

When they breached the gates of Hogwarts, Giselle found her voice again.

"He used the Imperius curse on me," she spat out without realising. It was like it had been dying to escape from her and she physically couldn't hold it in. She glanced at her professor who froze, blindsided by the confession. Her lips had never looked thinner and her nostrils flared, giving away her opinion on the situation.

"Your father?" she asked, making sure she was heard correctly. Giselle nodded.

"Do you mind me asking why he did this?" prodded her professor, needing to do her job. The crunching of their boots in the snow filled the silence between them as Giselle found the courage to continue. The chest in her professor's arms was stuck at the front of her mind, the betrayal hurt more than her face.

"All I can say is that he did two unforgivable things to me, he ruined everything and I tried to leave but he didn't want me to go so he tried to stop me," she whispered, sniffing up the tears before they fell again and the pair fell quiet. They didn't need to say anything else.

The castle appeared over the hill and Giselle clutched tighter onto McGonagall, suddenly anxious about seeing Sirius. He was in there, so much closer than before. It would be impossible for her to sleep without telling him the truth, he deserved to know and she had to be the one to tell him. Her pounding heart hurt but she took many deep breaths, summoning the courage from deep within. The dark hisses in the back of her mind were cheering her on, the forbidden pulses of arousal didn't scare her anymore and she chased the strong feeling it brought, she used it as her fuel.

"Are you absolutely sure you don't want to visit Madam Pomfrey?" asked McGonagall for the dozenth time when they entered Hogwarts and Giselle shook her head, eyes focused on the door that would lead her to the tower. She hoped he was in there, he had to be.

"I already told you, professor. Lily keeps a secret stash of healing salves in the bathroom, I'm competent enough to look after myself," she droned, bored of repeating her pleas. "I just want to go to bed. If it's still bad in a couple of days then I'll go to the hospital wing."

Searching her sad eyes for the last time, McGonagall nodded and watched her go, still terribly concerned for her student. Giselle held the embellished black box to her chest as she ascended through the castle, her trunk trailing behind her without effort. She felt like a zombie, she wasn't sure how she was keeping a steady stride but she didn't dare break it in case she collapsed. She bit down hard on her bottom lip when she met the Fat Lady, the portrait was notorious for sticking her nose into people's business and the likeness of her pointing out her injury was pretty high.

"What are you doing here?" she started as Giselle came bounding down the corridor, "I thought you left for - Oh!" The Fat Lady fell silent when she got close enough to be properly observed and butterflies erupted in her gut. Was everyone's reactions going to be this dramatic?

"Candy canes," whispered Giselle, fidgeting on the spot. The portrait swung open without a sound and she kicked her heavy skirt as she stumbled up the stairs, listening to her racing heart that had jumped into her throat. A funky disco melody drowned it out as she emerged into the common room and her body stiffened when she took in the scene before her.

Sirius was right there, stretched out across three chairs in the corner of the room with his slippered feet on the tabletop, grinning at the ceiling as he stretched. He was drunk, he was nursing a bottle of beer and she could smell whiskey in the air from the various bottles around the room. Hundreds of playing cards littered every surface, plates of food had been abandoned on the floor in front of the fire, one of the armchairs was overflowing with presents, it looked like a Christmas cracker had exploded in the tower and showered the place in Christmasy debris. Peter was lying face down on the sofa, singing along to the latest ABBA record that was spinning on a nearby turntable, oblivious to the new arrival.

"I think you're right, Padfoot," Remus came bounding out of the staircase leading to the boys dormitories, admiring his fuzzy new Christmas jumper, "I look really good in any colour."

"I told you," yawned Sirius, looking over towards his best friend, "I have an eye for these things."

"Don't get too ahead of yourself-," Remus looked up from his outfit and noticed Giselle in front of the portrait and jumped in fright. "Elle!"

Sirius almost broke his neck whipping it towards her and the intense hatred overtook his handsome grin in a blink, he was utterly revolted that his Christmas had just been ruined. Peter bolted up from his relaxing position and gawked at her, equally as startled. As he was closest, he noticed her eye first.

"Shit, what happened?" he murmured sensitively but Giselle couldn't look at him. Her eyes were stuck on Sirius. She had to do it now but she couldn't move, his glower had paraylsed her.

"Who did that to you?" questioned Remus, sobering up. He tried to walk over to her but his interference rebooted her brain and she scrambled around inside her trunk. She summoned the chest containing her letters, kicked the trunk out of her path, and stormed over to Sirius.

"What the fuck do you want?" he spat viciously, leaning away as she reached the table. Her shaky fingers fumbled with the clasps but she pushed on and eventually heard a click.

"I found these in the attic…" she whispered, her gaze never wavering. He sneered.

"What-,"

Giselle ripped the chest open and tipped it upside down, letting the contents fall from its prison for the first time in two years. Over a thousand envelopes gushed out like a tidal wave, crashing over the table and falling to the floor, rustling as it swallowed bottles of beer and sweet wrappers that had surrounded Sirius. Through the waterfall of parchment and brown paper packages, she saw his thunderous grey eyes brighten and his jaw fell open. No one else spoke, they simply watched the letters fall.

"He stole everything…" rasped Giselle when the last envelope floated to the floor and Sirius blinked, speechless. "It's my fault… I... I'm so sorry..."

The pressure in her head persisted, being in the same room as him wasn't an option anymore, and she fled the common room before anyone could say another word, her trunk and chest full of letters following her on its own accord. The slam of the dormitory door hung in the air as Giselle sunk down onto her knees, frantically clambering for the black chest for the final time. Its mouth spewed out the envelopes, burying her alive but the sudden weight never felt so good. She blindly snatched one, tore it open, and stared at the ink on the shaking page.

Elle,

I don't know whether you got my last letter or not but if me declaring my undying love for you freaked you out then-,

She couldn't read anymore, it was too agonising. Giselle cradled her broken face and sobbed until she passed out, hugging Sirius' long-forgotten love letters at last.