Chapter 1
It may sound absurd…but don't be naïve,
Even heroes have the right to bleed,
I may be disturbed…but won't you concede,
Even heroes have the right to bleed,
It's not easy to be me
Superman (It's not easy) – Five For Fighting
When he opened his eyes he found himself lying on his back. A pristine white ceiling, housing a very expensive looking grand chandelier was the first thing that Harry distinguished as his eyes flickered open. He sat up abruptly and immediately cradled his pounding head. Harry supposed what he was sitting on would be called a bed, but never in his life had he seen a bed this substantial. Harry was positive that the whole of the Weasley family could fit in this bed, and still have space to spare.
The room itself was at least as big as the Gryffindor common room, and contained three wardrobes – all as tall as the room itself, and made of ivory Harry guessed, gold rims and handles, and as Harry got up to inspect them, all full of elegant robes. The bedroom was painted dark green, with a silver border around the top and bottom of the walls – this room belonged to a Slytherin. The floor was carpeted in a cream coloured fur, which felt soft between Harry's toes, and he suddenly realised with a start that he was barefooted. In fact, he was clad only in his favourite pair of boxers – red, with little snitches fluttering about.
Harry soon discovered that the three wardrobes were divided into styles. The first inhabited casual robes, the second smart evening wear, and the third nightwear and underwear. Harry chose a plain black robe from the second closet, and was not surprised to find that it fit him perfectly.
There was a sharp rap at his door. "Er…come in," Harry hesitated, no one had ever knocked. A house elf popped its head around the door.
"Master requests Harry Potter is to dress appropriately for the ball tonight."
Harry looked confused, "Ball?"
"There is a ball tonight in honour of your presence Mr. Potter," the house else continued to stare at the floor, refusing to look at Harry.
"Who is your master?"
"Jinx is not allowed to say Sir, but Master says that all will be revealed tonight. The ball is at nine, Sir will be ready by half past eight." The house elf slipped out the door and was gone in a split second.
Harry released a sigh; it was shortly after seven now, so he had an hour and a half to do nothing except wonder where he was. His windows were blackened and barred, and the room was devoid of anything that may give him clue. All he knew was that whoever's house this was, they were very rich, and he was sure they went to Hogwarts, and had been in Slytherin. Which led to another question; did this person have children? And if so, did he know them? Suddenly a deafening noise attracted his attention.
Loud stomping was ascending down the corridor, and he could swear he could hear singing…
"We are the champions my friends and we'll keep on playing 'til the end, Gryffindors are losers, Potter is a loser, no time for losers 'cause we are the champions…of Quidditch…"
There was a thump on the other side of the door, rather as if somebody had tried to walk through it without opening it first. It suddenly occurred to Harry that he hadn't even bothered to find out if the room was locked or not. It was too late to do anything, though. The door had already been flung open with enough force that the handle made a sizeable dent in the wall behind it. Having made an impressive entrance, Malfoy spoiled it somewhat, by trailing off mid-song as his head caught up with what his eyes were seeing. He made a noise that sounded rather like "Pflsh!" and rubbed his eyes with his fists.
Well, perhaps his head hadn't quite caught up yet...
"Potter?" His voice was louder than normal and slightly slurred, but Malfoy managed to sound just as nasty and malicious when he was drunk as he did sober.
"Malfoy! What are you doing here?"
"I live here! Should be asking you why you're here." Malfoy raised a questioning eyebrow and then ruined the effect by blinking a lot. Harry held up his hands in a conciliatory manner and watched as it took Malfoy several tries to focus on them properly.
"Malfoy, how much have you had to drink?"
"Are you... Are you in...sin…u...ating that I am inebriated, Potty? Heh. Potty!" Malfoy began to laugh at his own rather weak joke and Harry rolled his eyes.
"No, I'm telling you that you're drunk! You can't even speak properly." Harry barely restrained himself from congratulating Malfoy on managing to get the sentence out.
"Malfoys can always withstand their drink," he said aristocratically, even though his sentences slurred so much they barely made sense.
"Yes, sounds like it," Harry replied sarcastically.
Malfoy glared at a point directly beside Harry's left ear and said "I've only had..." He started counting on his fingers, before pouting and giving up. "Don't remember exactly how many, but I'm def...nit...ly not drunk." To illustrate his point, he tried to lean nonchalantly against the door frame, but then failed miserably when he slipped, tripping over his own foot, and then promptly passing out.
"Malfoy, wake up," Harry sighed, stalking over to him, slapping his face slightly – then Harry realised that this was finally his chance to beat Malfoy to a pulp and no one would be none the wiser.
"Whadappened?"
"You fainted," Harry sighed.
"I did not faint," Malfoy retorted, looking horribly offended, "I collapsed."
Harry sighed, "Whatever Malfoy. Why exactly are you drunk?"
"Fathers ball tonight," Malfoy said soberly.
"It's your father's ball? So this really is your house?"
"Well where did you expect me to live? In a house? Oh how plebeian Potter." The alcohol seemed to be wearing off.
"How is it that you are just as spiteful and bitter when you're drunk?"
"It's who I am Potter. The girls love it," he added with a dramatic wink.
Harry scoffed, "I think you've had enough alcohol for a while Malfoy," and Harry took the opportunity to snatch the large bottle of Vodka Malfoy was clutching out of his hands.
"Give that back this instant Potter!" Annoyance turned to confusion in Malfoys face, as Harry once again felt that tug around his naval, and the room around him began to blur.
"Boy, we need to leave."
Harry blinked.
"I don't want those freaks turning up at my house wanting to know where you are, so we need to leave – now."
"Go where?" Harry asked steadily.
"To the station, so you can get on that ruddy train of your and go to….that place," he spat each word out.
"But…today's Dudley's birthday…"
"What are you on about boy? It's the first of September, and we have to leave now or you'll miss your train."
Harry nodded numbly and followed Uncle Vernon out into the car. What was going on? He was going to have to see Dumbledore the second he arrived at Hogwarts.
The wind swept through the dark alleys of Surrey, caressing long raven hair. A sudden loud hissing sound behind made the last passenger jump a little, as the Knight Bus prepared to leave. Picking up its speed it moved swiftly into the night quickly leaving their sight. They were alone once again, surrounded by nothing but their own thoughts.
To the side of the figure giant trees amongst the forest like park danced a raging tango as shrills pierced the night air.
The body checked their watch once more and started walking, one step at a time, breathing slowly. The stones beneath her crunched softly as she wavered though the hazy, dim park. The rain had ceased, but there was still a moist atmosphere about the air, tempting the rain to return and descend once more. And, a few moments later, it did. Not just pitiful drops, but in thick sheets that drenched the character completely. With a small sign of what sounded like frustration the form hoisted her hood up. The wind, if anything, was gaining strength pushing the sharp metallic rain into her face.
Looking around the shadowed frame distinguished a covered shelter only a few metres ahead. As she drew closer she could decipher another person sitting inside the shelter. Although the air had been churned into a thick mist due to the fog, wind and rain combined; as she advanced she was positive that someone else was indeed sitting beneath the shelter. Good. This was what she'd been expecting.
She carried her feet further forwards towards the lone shape. She was not easily deceived, and knew by now that the figure was not in fact alone. She'd made the mistake of assuming that too many times before.
"Good evening."
"Lucius" She nodded her head in acknowledgement.
"Do you have the package?" His voice was cool and crisp, emotionless. As if he was forgetting that he was discussing the plan of someone's death. Murder, really.
"Yes. It arrived today" She spoke, endeavouring for her voice to also remain dry.
"Good timing. For your sake anyway," Lucius said, an arch smile prying at his lips.
She ran her tongue along her dry lips and prised them open, preparing to speak. However, she thought it best to keep her mouth closed. Remembering that unwanted questions only led to punishments.
He slowly rose from his seat, soon towering over her petite figure leaving her that little bit more helpless. She knew what he was thinking, this she remembered from the past. His finger drew up towards her cheek, touching her slightly damp skin. This sudden touch caused a tear to form in eye. She blinked it away before Lucius could detect a sign of emotion. Any sadness or fear would only encourage his actions to deepen; threatening her fragile body to weaken under his strength. Her thoughts began to fade away as she grew more responsive to his touch. His finger trailed down her skin towards her sensitive lips leading her to let out a silent breath, this she felt only encouraged his caress to continue. From his eyes she could tell how he longed for passion like this. Yes, this was passion, for long she had hated his contact. But in time, deep down, his lust had responded to her feminine needs. This she knew was wrong, every part of her screamed for release from this forbidden sensation.
Her mind grew numb, through his actions drew pleasure. An ongoing battle of disdain and bliss fought her way through her body into her mind.
Her lips now shivered as his finger drew down towards her neck soon becoming a whole embrace with his hand softly relaxing on the side of her neck, exposing the left side. This sent soft sensations through her skin. He lowered his head and leisurely leaned down placing a gentle, yet dominant kiss onto her open neck. Swiftly he pulled back.
"Owl me when you have completed your task." He stated firmly ignoring her flinch. And with that swept his cloak around him and leaving her alone in the shady park.
A sudden noise to her left made her jump; she swung her head around but was faced with nothing. All she could see were trees highlighted by the moonlight, then swiftly she saw a couple of dark shadows move in between the trees just behind the shelter.
She turned her head back around, ignoring the movement from behind her, ready to continue forward on her way, but something, or someone was about to prevent her from doing so.
The shadow she saw amid the trees appeared to be a person, a hooded figure. Her heart leapt. Not just anyone but a Death Eater, one of Lucius' acquaintances no doubt, no, one of his minions, not even Lucius would sink that low and actually be au fait with such people. The dark physique came in her direction from the front.
She stepped backwards. Bad choice, a strong hand from behind her grasped her shoulder tightly. She felt a sudden coldness sweep over her, (she wondered if she could possibly become any colder in her already frozen body).
"Look who we have here, boys," he snarled. The voice she remembered, sharp, deep and not to mention thick. This belonged to Crabbe. Realising he'd mentioned others she quickly flicked her eyes behind her and to each side. More cloaks were approaching rapidly.
She shrugged out of his grip, unaffected by his actions. "Don't touch me". This comment only gathered slightly forced amusement from him.
"My, she is a feisty one" He spoke, growing more excited between every word, his voice sounding higher. Uneasiness crept through her; he was far too close for comfort. Then almost suddenly his finger had begun to trail up the bottom of her spine. Her back fluttered with unwanted touch, unlike Malfoy, his finger just made her stiff and disgusted. She noticed the finger hesitate then begin to follow round towards the front of her figure beneath her chest. Muffled laughter sounded around her.
"You know, I've been getting incredibly lonely," he whispered seductively into her ear, just loud enough for his associates to hear, much to their delight. She was used to their mockery; this however did not affect her. Ignoring the Death Eaters' comments, her body snapped to attention whilst she stepped forward out of his reach. Now she realised for the first time that she was actually surrounded in a compact space.
This had happened before. She could almost predict their next move, this gave her an advantage. Quickly she drew out her wand just in time…
"Impedim…"The figure in front of her cried out, incapable to finish, a direct charm was placed right into his eyes.
"Conjunctiva!" she managed to shout out, much to her surprise, before any of the Death Eaters could even think of an incantation. This temporarily blackened the sight of the oncoming man. Throughout the group their now was an unsure mumble being passed between each of them.
She knew she would be ready, they couldn't beat her. She wanted to prove she was able, to Lucius, and to herself.
Almost straight afterwards the rain had ceased, making her vision clearer, she could see the outline of a body approaching her from behind the shelter, crossing in front of all the other shapes. She kept trying to think of any other suitable charms or spells but the temperature seemed to have frozen her mind. No she won't give in. Think, Think, yes, perfect…
"Obrigesco!" slightly shocked, she managed to abruptly stiffen the dark body's joints leaving him frozen. This left her still safe, unusual the other Death Eaters did not seem to be helping. Maybe, she thought, they wanted to see what she was made of. This was another one of their stupid tests.
A wave of approval seemed to fly through the voices of the disguised people. This, she was certain, was good. Maybe they would leave her alone now; she had proven that she was still up to scratch.
"Well, I see the little girl thinks she is all grown up" Crabbe's words stung in her mind. A Little girl, this, she was most certainly not. Her face turned red in anger.
Crabbe grinned lewdly at her flushed face. "I wouldn't if I was you, Expelliarmus!" suddenly her wand took to the air heading straight into his filthy hands.
"No!" She cried in shock. All feelings started coming back to her, noticing the cold winds rush once again through her sleek hair. She was defenceless.
What she was going to do, she didn't know. But, she had proven herself earlier, this would not matter. This is only one mistake. Nevertheless, she still began to worry. The Death Eaters started to close in together, each one slotted perfectly between the other. No gaps. No escape.
"Just to be sure. We wouldn't want you going overboard. Don't worry; you won't need your wand at the moment." Crabbe's voice echoed back and forth between the trees, the effect was continued like it was riding on the wind. The other death eaters seemed to be edging away slightly, no, they were just becoming excited.
"What do you mean?" She was feeling anxious now.
"Oh, you know." Crabbe came forward and placed his hand on the top of her shoulder, slightly leaning forward with his other hand and grabbing her neck. The shock choked her, but this was soon stopped by a rough kiss planted just on her lips. This wasn't a kiss; it wasn't gentle like Lucius'. It was more of a punch in line with her lips. The disgust rose through her, the taste was vile. Soon it was broken off.
She hated the torment, the mocking. Lucius never gave her this much disrespect, but then he did rely on her. She was the main, probably only contact, who was able to gather information without being too suspicious. The other Death Eaters, however, did not see any use in her. They only kept their distance because of their fear of Malfoy. Well, if you could call this distance. She hated to think of what they might to do if they didn't have Lucius stopping them. Even though Lucius wasn't here they knew he would find out if they had done something to her, which meant she was unable to continue with her dreaded task.
"I hope we meet again soon…till then…" Crabbe left his words hanging in the air and chuckled mirthlessly.
"We won't, I'll make sure of that" She didn't really know if she would see him and the other minions soon, but she could at least hope they wouldn't have another encounter.
Laughter rung around all the shadowed faces, and almost straight afterwards they disappeared into the night. Her wand was left rolling slowly on the ground.
The second he'd vanished her posture relaxed and she let out a breath that she didn't know she'd been holding in. Slumping down on the hard, half broken bench within the shelter, she began recalling the night's events.
Thinking back, she wasn't entirely sure how she got into this mess. It had started of with just her and a few friends, who had thought that maybe, this was the best side to be on. She was good at this. Everyone knew it. That's why they have remained passing pitiful gossip, useless to Lucius really.
A shiver ran down her spine making her shudder involuntarily, leaving her wondering whether she did indeed choose the right path. It didn't matter anyway; it was too late to turn back now. Past experiences had taught her that thinking like this got you nowhere. The bruises still remained on her back strong from their last encounter. The bad weather, fortunately, meant she still needed to wear her winter cloak in order to keep warm. Thus, leaving her bruises undiscovered. She wondered occasionally, what she would have done if someone at school had noticed. Often, she also wondered what it would have felt like to be rescued from this. To have someone notice her suffering before she had dragged herself too far into this. There was no point pondering on these thoughts. Hoping got you nowhere.
The chill swept in now reaching through her robes. Pulling her robes tightly around her she decided to face the rain again. The pebbles slipped beneath her feet as she hastily made her way back along the path leading towards the main streets of Oxford once again.
Pulling out her wand she called the Knight Bus to pick her up and soon enough it had halted in front of her, engine thriving, ready to leap off into the night again once she had paid, stated her sought destination, and found herself somewhere to sit.
She held firmly onto the bright orange, spongy seat beneath her (she had chosen a seat rather than a bed, merely for the fact that the seats had seatbelts, and on this bus, they were essential), trying hard not to be shifted from it by the vivacious bus. Once she had been dropped outside the Leaky Cauldron in London, she hoisted her hood back up and, heaved the bulky door open then stepped inside. Her eyes scanned the room, examining its features, ensuring that nothing was amiss. Once certain all was in order she walked briskly over to the counter.
"Tom? The usual, please."
Tom, the innkeeper's, eyes darted over to her. "Bad night or something?"
"Or something" She'd become a regular. Well, only once or so a month, but over the period of so many months that Tom had begun to recognize her. But Tom, she reflected, as he slid the drink down the counter to her already outstretched hand, didn't know who she was. Not her name, age, or appearance. Her hood always remained securely over her face. Especially in a place like this. Who knew who could walk in, start asking questions as to why she would be out this late, all alone? But being alone, she considered, was often the best place to be.
She downed the drink in once hasty gulp, and reached out her hand once more, waiting for another glass to find its way to it.
It was approximately an hour later when she slid through the back door of the Leaky Cauldron, tapped the bricks with her wand, and stumbled through the dark, still streets of Diagon Alley. And approximately another hour later, when she'd sobered up enough to perform the required spell, and staggered through the front door of her home.
"Where the hell have you been?" was the first outburst from her mother.
"Obliviate," she simply replied, then hurried past her and up the stairs to her bedroom.