Hello, here's a short chapter I've had sitting in my drafts for a while. I still do not know where I am going with this story. I also would like to say- I just published a one shot maybe two weeks ago, updated the Wild Ones Sequel, and now I'm updating this- I don't want to disappoint anyone if I don't continue to be active.

I slightly modified Chapter 3 to fit more with the story, as there were some mistakes that I wanted to take away. I was thinking of changing Katharin's name, I'm not sure if it fits with the other names as much as I would like.

I'm not proud of this fic. I might abandon.

Trigger warning: violence, non-con, trauma, language. Rated M. I do not own any part of the Harry Potter series. Please review.

Luna let the tears flow freely, the familiar waves of dread flooding back to her. The gut-wrenching fear that hit her every time she had seen him in his dark, miserable house. Unaware of Hermione, Dean, Lee Jordan, and McGonagall with their wands leveled at him, she stepped forward and pressed her hands to his face. "Are you really here?" she ground out.

"You don't seem happy to see me," he chuckled, jaw shifting under her hands, which were not pressed lightly. The harsh light of the room illuminated the confusion on the Order members' faces, and the too-kind look on Blaise's.

A small voice made all of them freeze. "Mummy?" Katharina asked, standing in the open doorway, blinking her tired eyes.

Blaise was the first to react and smiled at her, but it was different than the one he gave Luna. "Hello, my love."

"Hi, Daddy," she said.

"How are you, little one?"

"Good," Katharina said, sticking her thumb in her mouth.

Luna furiously wiped her tears aside, and backed away. "You're not real," she rasped, voice cracking. "You're not really here."

Lee Jordan glanced at Professor McGonagall, wordlessly communicating, taking Katharina's hand and closing the door on the way out. Blaise's eyes followed Lee out of the room, and then snapped back to meet Luna's. "Miss Granger," McGonagall murmured. "Let Dean and Luna talk to Mr Zabini."

"But Professor-" Hermione started.

"Let's go. We will be right outside."

"Sick fucking bastard," Dean spat out the second it was just the three of them. "I honestly thought you would be a Slytherin to break tradition. I honestly thought-" He laughed mirthlessly.

"I really would give my apologies for disappointing you, but I don't make it a habit to apologize to Mudbloods, Thomas."

Luna looked at them, as she had back in the dungeon at the beginning of her hell. She almost laughed, and shoved down the waistband of her pants to check if his initials were still there. "You're really here?"

"Why would I brand you for no reason?" Blaise said, a ghost of a grin forming. His aristocratic features were alight with triumph. "Blood brands are very powerful. Not Horcrux-level powerful, but still, it was enough to keep me alive. Just a bit of your skin and blood with me. And if you were using magic against your own skin and blood, why would you want to kill yourself?"

Luna couldn't believe that it was that simple. She stared at her hands.

She was still and calm. Dean saw the oddly serene girl they had back at school, and she said, in almost a singsong, "Please stop haunting me." Her eyes were glassy.

"Professor," he called. "You can come back in now." He put a comforting hand on Luna's back. Blaise's eyes darkened at the movement, but he didn't say anything. Rather, he spat at Dean's shoes.

Hermione and Minerva walked briskly into the room where their most valuable prisoner sat in his chair, tied down. "Open," Hermione said briskly.

Blaise obediently opened his mouth, but there was amusement, almost teasing, in his eyes. Hermione poured a bit of their strongest truth serum in. "Swallow."

Minerva conjured a simple wooden chair and sat down. "All right. Starting off, what is your full name?"

"Blaise Osian Zabini."

"How old are you?"

"Twenty."

"Now, Mr. Zabini, we're going to ask you questions about what you've done to Luna, first of all. Poppy has said that you've layered spells on the girl, and she wasn't even aware of it. What did you do to her that caused her damage?"

Blaise leered. "I fucked her pretty pureblood body, and-"

Hermione punched him, square in the nose. "DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW BADLY YOU HURT HER?" she screamed.

The blow snapped his head back, and he brought it up slowly, openly laughing now. The sound was mocking. A trickle of blood ran down his face, all the way down into the hollow of his throat. "It seems I broke her in pretty well."

Hermione was practically snarling. She was usually poised during interrogations and missions, but she had a hatred reserved for anyone who hurt her friends specifically. "Luna's not your pet. I'll be damned if you ever lay a finger on her again," she ground out.

Blaise had a look of mock surprise. "She isn't? I've the only one who's been inside her, and that seems to be an adequate enough claim. Would you like to know how her body begs me to fuck her? How she arches under my touch? How her cunt-"

"You disgust me," Hermione sneered. "When this is over, I swear to God-"

"Mr. Zabini, Hermione," McGonagall interjected. "Zabini, it does not serve you well to taunt us. I assure you, there is a lot we could do to make you give us the answers we want. I suggest you cooperate."

"Apologies, Professor," Blaise said, dipping his head to her. Old charm he had adopted during his school days shone through. "If it makes this better, I don't regret what I did."

Hermione growled. "How the fuck would that make it better, you bastard-"

McGonagall interrupted. "Miss Granger."

But Hermione was glad to see Blaise flinch. She supposed it was that hated word- bastard- that caused it. It was commonly known that his mother had multiple husbands, always a sore spot for him. It almost seemed silly, how a word affected him. Just like Mudblood used to affect her.

Glancing at her list of questions, McGonagall leveled her beady eyes at Blaise. "Why were you so determined to keep her to yourself, I suppose is my largest question. Most of your colleagues have a habit of...trading their slaves." The disgust was evident in her voice.

"Great Salazar, do you know how much better it is when you know you will be the only man to ever have her?"

Hermione felt the nausea creep up, threatening to erupt. "Stop. What spells did you put on Luna?"

"I put a lot of spells on her. Most of them were cast when she slept. I also put some on my daughter too. It's a pretty little ring of curses that tie us together. The purpose was to bind her to me. Tenetur Vitae, Exhauriebat. Binding of life, draining of magic. Some other ones too. I took some of her power."

"We never learned those in school," Hermione said, ever the student.

"Not everything is taught in a textbook, Granger. My lord taught me these spells." His nose was starting to bleed more, the flow becoming thicker. He looked positively deranged with blood all down his front. "I might request a cleaning charm, Minerva."

Minerva flicked her wand, her lips in a thin line. The blood ebbed away. Her nostrils were flared. "What is your plan?"

This time, Blaise looked like he was trying to hold the words in. "I gave her a blood brand. By doing so, I started draining Luna's magical presence."

Hermione spoke. "What is a magical presence?"

Blaise's features shifted into delight. "What's this? Hogwarts' biggest know-it-all has to ask me a question? Well, Mudblood, a magical presence is used in the form of alchemy. Every wizard has one. It's what separates us from Muggles. What is the difference between wizards and filthy fucking animals? Magical presence, found in the soul or identity, and can be drained or transferred with some rituals."

"And what did you gain from this, might I ask?"

"I gained her magic. She absorbed quite a lot of it from the time she spent around magical creatures. But I didn't complete it fully. If I had, she would be nothing more than a Muggle. I wouldn't want to have that filth in my bed, so Luna still has the base of her magic. She won't be able to perform Legilimency, Occlumency, non-verbal magic, anything beyond simple spells, or academic comprehension like Astronomy or Herbology. Also makes her less inclined to leave me."

McGonagall fixed him with a disappointed look, slowly setting down her parchment. "What happened to you, Mr. Zabini? Blaise? I thought you were one of the better ones. You had good marks, didn't involve yourself in Mr. Malfoy's disputes with Harry Potter. I thought you were different. Your mother was neutral in the first War."

"With any luck, you'll meet my mother soon. I'll arrange a meeting with her, and my sister, and dear old Potter and Dumbledore as soon as I get out of these unfortunate restraints."

"Luna said you changed. She said that you didn't always take pride in your actions as a Death Eater. She said you were sullen, and now you're acting how you were at school," Hermione said. "What made you change?"

"When His regime started around six years ago, I was lower in the ranks. Dolohov or one of those bastards wanted to capture Luna in retaliation for her father's rebellion. It was trivial. They told me to rape her as part of my initiation. I was weak then. I did it, it gained me respect. At one of the meetings I went to, I suddenly, randomly saw the things my lord accomplished and I understood why I was lucky to have a high status. My mother was weak and stayed unfaithful to a cause, got my sister and herself killed. Most of your students are dead in their graves because they were foolish and weak and dull." Blaise flexed his sore muscles, and stretched as much as she could. "Luna was weak. Don't you think I deserved a quick fuck after all of my troubles?"

"No," McGonagall sniped. "I wish I could kill you right now."

Blaise laughed, genuinely. "What everyone wishes they could hear from their former teacher."

"You are, in fact, my worst failure, Mr Zabini."

There was no sign of emotion in Blaise's eyes. "You're breaking my heart, Minerva," he chuckled. "Now, you wouldn't happen to have a cigarette?"

Luna walked into the room, the dim light casting warped shadows. "How the tables have turned," Blaise said, teeth glinting as he grinned lecherously at her, limbs limp underneath the restraints. "I'm getting used to seeing you in clothes."

"I'm not going to ask you any questions. I want to talk with you," Luna said, smiling at the blood on his clothes like they were an old friend.

"Did you know that whenever I was near you, you flinched? You were scared of me, even when you convinced yourself that you weren't. From my perspective, it was amusing because you had no power to stop me from doing what I wanted to you. I was inside you, felt every ounce of your panic and fear. That was a result of me. And it didn't do you well to be scared because you had no power, no wand, no will, you knew that, and you tried not to be afraid."

Luna merely cocked her head, letting her words wash over her. She had the power in this situation. She had the power. She was free. She was okay.

Wasn't she? Shouldn't she?

"And now we're bound forever, because we have a daughter now. That's right," he said, seeming to savor every word. "We have a child. You brought a child into this world. The girl is my heir. Why did you name her Katharina, I've been meaning to ask?"

"Katharina means pure," she found herself saying. "Something no one in this world is except for her."

"Aren't you?" Blaise asked. "You're pure too."

Luna stared hard at him, and for a fleeting moment, Blaise vanished. It could have been a trick of the light, but she didn't see an arrogant and cold soldier. Instead she saw a pleading, scared, frail man begging to be freed. She didn't know how it was conveyed. But she blinked and there was the cruel Death Eater Blaise again. Stepping as close as she dared, she put a tentative palm on his face, half-expecting him to vanish or ripple like a mirage. But he stayed, and he gave her a grin and turned his face to kiss the inside of her hand. She whipped her hand back like she'd been stung.

She didn't tell anyone what she had seen, or what she had thought she'd seen.

It had been four days since Blaise had been captured. McGonagall had interrogated him every day, and had questioned him endlessly on how to break the spell on Luna, what his master's plans were, and what he would have done had he not been captured. "The brightest witch of our age can't figure out how to break this spell?" the Slytherin gloated. "Actually, this is meant to be a permanent spell. Even if I wasn't under this damn truth potion, I wouldn't know what to tell you."

Hermione turned to McGonagall. "I have some theories, Professor. But keep him alive and under watch. I think we might need him to break Luna's curses."

Luna was reading to Katharina from a ragged copy of The Tales of Beedle and Bard when Hermione burst into the room. "Luna. I know how to break your curse and your blood bond. You'll be free from Zabini."

"How, Hermione?" Luna asked, bouncing her daughter a bit on her lap. Katharina was beginning to whine and squirm, her small hands reaching for the moving picture on the page.

"The curse is based on power. I will stabilize the curse using potions and a few spells and then use a more powerful spell to erase it. The magnitude will break the curse. You'll have to touch Zabini. I will be in the room with you and monitor."

"Very well," Luna said. "Are you certain it will work?"

"Well...no," Hermione admitted. "The magic that cursed you to begin with was a bit hazy, and there is no guarantee because it's an illegal bit of magic. But I promise you'll be okay. You don't have to worry." When Hermione stared at her expectantly, Luna asked, "Will you do it now?"

Hermione pressed her lips together and nodded. "Go tell Xenophilius what's happening."

Luna turned and ran, hair flying behind her. "Daddy," Luna called. "Hermione's going to fix me...can you watch Katharina?"

The frail man was instantly guarded. "You're going back into a room with that monster?"

"It's to break this awful bond and give me my magic back. I hadn't even noticed it was gone, but I suppose it will be nice having it. You needn't worry, Daddy, I trust Hermione. She's the brightest person I've ever known."

Xenophilius harrumphed, but he let her go, kissing her on the forehead before sitting in the armchair with Katharina. "Your mother...she would have been so proud of you, my girl," he said, barely above a whisper, but both pairs of silver eyes were watery.

Luna felt rather like she was walking to her execution, not something that would set her free. The room that Blaise was detained in seemed a lifetime of walking away. Hermione and Professor McGonagall were already there, Blaise still in the chair. He did not look pleased.

"Okay," Hermione said briskly, as soon as Luna stepped foot in this room. "I'd rather have more time to research and more to work with, but...this is the best I can do. I suppose if Zabini knew more about the spell he used in the first place, it would be easier-"

"No it wouldn't have. I would've made it hell for you to solve," Blaise interrupted. His hands were bound, but his legs were not, and he crossed them leisurely, lounging in the interrogation chair. He looked bored and arrogant, like he had at Hogwarts when he thought the environment to be beneath him.

Luna still lingered with uncertainty at the entrance.

"Back to what I was saying," Hermione snapped, with a furious glare at Blaise, "This will be a mix of charms, Ancient Runes, and defensive spells. You only need to do what I say, all right? It will be fine." The last line was delivered with the barest hint of fear, despite her fervent attempts to neutralize her tone. That did not ease Luna's blatant panic, which was amplified tenfold with being in the same room as Blaise. She looked at him, and the amusement in his eyes told her that he knew how uncomfortable he was making her, and he enjoyed it.

"You realize, Zabini," McGonagall all but spat, "is that after we sever your connection with Miss Lovegood and return her to her correct state of magic, that we will kill you."

His face didn't change.

"Come, Luna," Hermione called, summoning the wooden chair McGonagall had sat in as they interrogated Blaise. But Luna was frozen in her tracks, trying her best to trace the outline of a stray Wrackspurt in the walls…

McGonagall saw her stricken face and faraway gaze and strode briskly over, and rather than urging her over to where Hermione and Blaise were, she wrapped Luna in a warm embrace, something Luna would never have expected. The most smiling she had ever seen the former Transfiguration professor do was at the commentary for Quidditch matches in her fifth year, whether it was Ginny flying into Zacharias Smith or her own assessment of the match. But now the wizened witch was smiling at her gently, almost maternally. "You will be fine, Miss Lovegood," she soothed. "You have gone through so much, you will be fine after this. Do not let Mr Zabini haunt you. I will be damned if he hurts you again."

Luna didn't seem to have a reaction except a slight relaxation of her limbs. "Good girl," Blaise thought encouragingly. In the barest back wall of his brain, a part of Blaise felt excited, not daring to hope for the spell to work, but eager…

And if it didn't work, he would be dead anyways and free. He was a dead man walking, a corpse, and nothing would bring him back. He could almost see Naomi. He was trapped. He was not himself.

Luna sat down on the chair. "Do you have a Calming Draught?" she asked Hermione, whose face softened. "I wish, but Percy's brewing a new batch right now. It won't be ready for a bit. We have to act quickly."

McGonagall appeared behind Blaise, and his knee brushed against Luna's when he shifted. "Can't say I'm too happy about this, love," he said, grinning as if they were two lovers deciding on an amicable split over a butterbeer and game of Exploding Snap. Not as if they were about to be severed with a risky process and in a dingy room.

Hermione cleared her throat, and said, "Join hands, please." There was no regret, a purely clinical and brisk tone. She marked runes around the two chairs with chalk, and

Visions plagued her, and from her hazy vision, Blaise was shaking as she was, most likely hit with memories of his own.

And they were connected, spiritually or otherwise, and it was so blinding that Luna cried out. It was so enthralling, almost seductive, as Luna gazed through Blaise's eyes for a second, receiving flashes of his life throughout his twenty years- a man who had some of his features gasping and clutching at his heart, one of his house-elves bringing him a wrapped gift from his mother, his younger sister playing in the garden, holding his sleek black wand in his hand for the first time, him with the Sorting Hat on his head, the last to be Sorted; Draco Malfoy and Theodore Nott laughing with him in the Slytherin common room, a flash of wild amusement when he saw Mrs Norris the cat had been shut in a suit of armor at Hogwarts, a sense of pride receiving his O.W.L grades; herself, sleeping in his bed...

Merlin, she was frail. She had probably had such an elaborate mind, which would make it difficult to clear. Ravenclaws were typically a bit worse at Occlumency, since they had such busy minds filled with thoughts and perceptions. But she was becoming...less. It was probably his doing. But yet, he saw some of her memories, rather felt them and her emotions. Producing her hare Patronus in a room abuzz with magic, pudding in the Great Hall at dinner, the spiny back of a thestral pulsing with power, Xenophilius Lovegood's yellow dress robes at a wedding of a sort. He viewed them all through her eyes, and he saw Katharina in her lap, with Luna's slim hands turning the pages of an expensive book, the embossed pages depicting a doe running through a patch of grass. He had gotten the book for her on a trip to France, as they had raided a wizarding village. One of the stores had been a bookstore. The book was in French, which Luna was fluent in, so he had tucked the small children's story into his robes and had left it in Katharina's room.

It had been a total of ten seconds, but it had felt like a century. Blaise's hand was crushing hers, or hers was crushing his- she didn't fucking know, he was cursing up a storm. Hermione pressed her wand to Luna's temple, reciting incantations that Luna couldn't focus on, because the force was too much. McGonagall was doing the same with Blaise, and he was snarling at her. "Get it over with, you bitch," he sneered, face contorting with the exertion of the magic.

Hermione was tracing more runes, and then she was casting a charm Luna remembered Harry mention from one of their Dumbledore's Army meetings- Circe, she couldn't keep up. The force felt almost tangible, the brand on her back burning like a great heliopath. She could no longer remove her hand from Blaise's, it was as if they were fused together. And the tension was beginning to sever. She could feel it.

"Relashio Maxima!" Hermione cried, and Luna felt the force almost reluctantly ease apart.

Visions and memories occasionally came back, sometimes her own, sometimes Blaise's. They were more intimate, less happy. A hazy memory, the scent and tang of liquor so sharp Luna's eyes burned. At Professor Slughorn's Christmas party, which they had both attended. Luna could not tell which memory it was from as they stared at Draco Malfoy being held at the ear by Argus Filch. Blows forcefully laid on Blaise by a man with a twisted face and an expensive wristwatch.

There was a great crack and Hermione let out a yelp, the momentum sending her tumbling to the ground. Their hands broke apart. Luna was so dizzy, she felt magic seeping back into her.

Blaise was in complete shock, eyes so wide open the whites were visible all around. "Luna," he rasped. "Granger." Not Mudblood. He stood up and doubled over immediately, panting, Luna's magic leaving his body. "Merlin, Luna-"

Hermione jabbed her wand at him- "Incarcerous!"- and he was bound in ropes on the ground. Hermione took a deep breath, and prepared to utter the words that would kill Blaise-

"Wait!" Luna cried, clumsily moving to him. "Stop!"

"Luna." Hemione sighed impatiently. "I get that you might not want him to die, but-"

"Don't kill him. Don't you see? It severed us, but it did something else too. That's him now. It was not him before," Luna whispered. "Blaise Zabini has returned to us."