PART TWO CONTINUED

Chapter 6 More Trusting Than She Meant To Be

Jamila ran down the corridor. Nicora was running towards her, calling for her. She caught the girl up in her arms as she chattered wildly about Domica coming home. The older girl had been gone all night, having gone to the pyramids yesterday and never come back.

Girls from the orphanage frequently spent a few nights away from home, so Jamila hadn't been worried, but now she was terrified. Nicora was talking incoherently about blood and bruises. Domica had obviously been caught out, probably by Mikal, from the injuries Nicora was describing. The little girl was heavy, but Jamila ran carrying her as though it was nothing. Nicora pointed towards a door, and Jamila set her down as soon as they'd entered, stifling a gasp. All the girls had come running and most were crying.

On her bed lie Domica, the eldest of the girls at 16. Her face was bruised almost beyond recognition and her clothing torn. Jamila hurried to pull the covers from another bed and hide her from view before Lakim and George entered the room. She wiped away tears and started firing off questions.

"Who found her?"

"I did, she was trying to get home. She was about three blocks away." Marlynn answered swiftly, her voice angry. The 13 year old girl was sitting on a nearby bed, her face the only one not discolored by tears. She had looked similar when Jamila had first found her, and had hardened her heart when it came to emotion. Jamila knew she cared about Domica, however, and she tried to give her a reassuring smile. It wasn't returned.

"Before she passed out, did she say anything?"

"Mikal," came the furious answer.

"Of course."

George came into the room a moment later, followed closely by Lakim. "Sweet Merlin!" he exclaimed, pulling out his wand and striding across the room.

Several of the girls shrieked at the sight of a man in their room, and Marlynn moved between George and her injured friend with a furious glance at Lakim. She didn't understand why their bodyguard wasn't protecting them.

George looked at Jamila, who shook her head. "You shouldn't be in here, you're upsetting them."

"I can help her," he responded pleadingly. Did Jamila really think he'd ever hurt one of these girls?

"Go with Lakim, I'll be out to speak with you when – "

"NO!" Domica awakened suddenly and sat straight up in bed. "Don't send anyone with Lakim!" Her eyes were wide with horror as she looked toward the door. Jamila, standing beside the bed, shushed her gently.

"It was Mikal who hurt you, love," she began soothingly. "He can't get you here."

Domica let herself be pushed back into the bed, too weak to resist. "But Mikal wouldn't have been whispering your name, Jamila," she said determinedly. "I saw them. I heard them. Mikal and Nadir are coming. Lakim will let them in."

Every pair of eyes in the room turned to Lakim. George had made his way behind the man and was now standing between him and the door, wand out. Jamila approached him slowly. Behind her the girls gathered around Domica's bed silently.

"What would cause you to go back to them after all they did to you?" she whispered, never questioning Domica's word. "What the hell were you getting out of the deal, Lakim?"

In answer, his face broke into the devilish grin she remembered from her own time in the orphanage. She made to step back away from him when his hand shout out and grabbed her wrist, forcing her hand to his crotch. She felt him harden beneath her fingers and heard George's shout. "YOU," Lakim answered wickedly.

Without a thought, she dug her nails in and twisted, making him scream and fall to the floor. When he opened his mouth she caught his cheeks with the same hand and kept his jaw open. His tongue had never been removed either.

A moment later, George had stunned him and tied him up. Jamila was shaking with rage, and he stepped over the large man and put her arms around her. "I'll kill him," she whispered. "He hurt her and I'll kill him."

Behind her she could hear the girls whispering. George was ignoring them. "Can you really heal her," she asked finally. He pulled away and nodded. The girls made a pathway for them to get to Domica's bedside. It was nearly 20 minutes before her face was no longer bruised. He performed a contraceptive charm for good measure, then woke her up.

The girls crowded around her again and he stepped outside their circle. It was a hard lesson for him in exactly what Jamila had gone through as a child. He wanted a way to rescue her from that, from this. He fingered the box in his pocket. He'd come to Egypt prepared to ask her to marry him, but he hadn't been expecting 9 little girls who needed rescuing, too.

Nicora left the group of girls and stood beside George, who'd leaned against the wall by the door, his eyes on Lakim. At only 9 years old, she was still rather short and had to tilt her chin up a good ways to look at him. He was lost in thought, so she took his hand to get his attention and he started a little. "What's your name," she asked, though Jamila had just answered the same question for the whispering girls surrounding Domica's bed.

"George Weasley. What's yours?"

"Nicora."

He smiled down at her bemusedly, wondering why she'd come over. Then she spoke again in a confidential whisper. "They never catch me, you know. Jamila says I'm charmed. Just last month I got trapped down an alley and escaped through a door in the brick wall. When I went back the next day, there wasn't a door."

This got George's attention. The girl was a witch! He handed her his wand. "Wave it toward the girls and say "Cherieth." She did, and a few of the girls broke out into giggles. George smiled. "It's a cheering charm," he said, in answer to the girl's questioning eyes. "It cheers people up when they've had a rough day."

"So I CAN do magic, just like you?"

"Looks like it. But you're too young to start school, and I've never heard about a magic school in Egypt." The excited smile that had graced her face faded away to be replaced by disappointment. She stood, watching the others and wishing there was a cheering charm on her, too. She quickly became aware of the curious glances Jamila was throwing toward them, however, and decided on a new topic of conversation.

"You love her, don't you?"

George, who'd grown accustomed to her silence, jumped and looked at her before smiling. "Yes. It's not what I thought it'd be like when I was your age, though."

Nicora tilted her head. "You mean it's not all coming up roses?" she asked wisely. George laughed, her expression was so comical. Wisdom from a nine year old was probably the funniest thing that had happened since he'd arrived here. That made him stop and think. Laughing was an every day occurrence at the Burrow. Here it took a cheering charm to spur even a few giggles. He looked thoughtfully at the now stirring figure of Lakim, then back at Nicora's innocent smile. And he made a decision.