Someday, I will own something of great value. This will not be Harry Potter, as J K Rowling already owns it.
Waiting For Trial
It was a week and a bit later, four days before her trial on August Twelfth, and Ryua was finally back on her feet. She had her wand, and no one had tried to separate her from it, as she'd likely curse whoever tried, just from nerves. Unfortunately, being fully recovered had some nasty side effects.
Lucius wasn't the least bit amused. Not only had Ryua rebelled against his authority in about the most violent way possible, but she'd done it in a way that he had no choice but to protect her interests. If he told the Ministry that Zabini actually had rights to it, in any sort of way, he'd be cast out of his job, fined a whole lot of money, and his reputation tarnished as a child abuser who married off his kids right out of the cradle. All of which, naturally, made him rather perturbed.
So naturally, as soon as Ryua was feeling at all like moving around, he pounced. Cleverly, he didn't actually touch her, but spelled her wand right out of her hand before she even knew he was there. "So. Hello, father."
"I am very upset with your behavior, Ryua."
She stopped walking, and spun back to face him. "Upset? Imagine how I feel! If you hadn't made the stupid arrangement in the first place, I wouldn't have had to do it!"
"Be that as it may, you had no right to attack him in such a manner!"
"I attacked him? Just what do you think went on down in that alley?" their voices were rising now, and everything sentient with ears got quickly away from the area. "He tried to rape me, father. What was I supposed to do?"
"Well..."
"Oh, don't even answer that! I can't believe you sometimes."
Lucius' face got that expression of distressed, loving parenthood again, and he said, "Now, Ryua, you really must learn to respect your elders..."
"When I meet some worthy of respect, I will!" she snapped. She refused to wince as he lifted his wand, cutting in with, "And I'd be careful about cursing me, father. I'm going to a hearing to see if I killed in self-defense or not. They're going to want to double-check my injuries, and fresh curse scars wouldn't tally up. Would they, father?"
It looked, for a second at least, that she'd actually talked her way out of a beating. What she didn't take into account was that there were curses that didn't leave marks. Granted, the less marking curses were more energy-consuming, but much more efficient to compensate... "Crucio!"
And Ryua fell to her knees. With the first wave of pain, she collapsed to her knees. She'd thought she'd felt pain before. Thought she was getting good at tolerating pain, thought her guards were well developed. Within the first few seconds of being hit by the Unforgivable Curse, her guards were completely flattened. She was on her knees, on her hands and knees and screaming.
Over towards greenhouse, Draco blanched as a wave of dull pain flashed over his body. Narcissa looked around at him, just as the screaming began a few seconds later. He swallowed, twitching with every fresh, if dulled wave, and without making a sound they left the house completely.
When Lucius finally lifted his wand, Ryua collapsed down onto her elbows, some shred of herself still refusing to lie down before her father. Luckily, he was satisfied with having finally made her scream, and swept out impressively. Of course, the impressiveness was lost on her, as the only thing she could see was floating lights in front of her eyes. She concentrated on breathing, ignoring the harsh rasp of air in her raw throat. Slowly, the lights faded, and she opened her eyes to see the warm, polished maple floor, her arms supporting her head, long hair puddled on the floor, blending in almost perfectly to the light-gold wood.
Ryua pushed herself to her elbows, then hands, then all the way back to kneeling on the floor. This caused a wave of dizziness to cloud her head again, and she closed her eyes, concentrating on breathing. Her entire body ached, like she'd played an eight-hour quidditch match, pelted by Bludgers the entire time. And that was nothing compared to her head, where it felt like the Weasley twins were having a free-for-all smashing contest. And something completely new, her throat ached.
Even back when she was a little kid, and got the whooping cough from Crabbe, her father had gotten a healer to come in and banish the germs, and she'd had numbing potions before he got there. But she'd never screamed herself hoarse before. I can't believe I gave in like that. Just gave in...Not that she'd had any choice. Even her mind was screaming for it to stop, and she couldn't have done anything constructive with her body if her life had depended on it. And nearly as bad as the pain from the curse, was the humiliation of losing control, of screaming, of not being able to withstand it...
A wave of anger swept through her, the warm emotion soothing some pins and needles, and giving her the strength to lurch to her feet. She spent another five minutes getting used to an upright position, then walked down to the kitchens, to get a drink of water, maybe something sweet to eat... Ryua debated looking for her wand, then instantly discounted the idea. Even if father had left it laying on the floor somewhere (which she highly doubted) she wasn't in the least bit up to bending over. She'd probably fall flat on her face and add a concussion headache to the curse one. Father would have to give it back for the trial; they didn't let people in the Ministry without presenting their wands.
One good thing, though; Toppy took one look at her, skin milk-white, eyes sunken and bloodshot, hands trembling, and holding herself up shamelessly against the wall, and the loyal (if hyper) elf pulled her onto a crate of fruit (all the chairs were elf-sized) and started fussing about with tea, cookies, juice, cake, whatever came to hand. More than content to be cared for at the moment, Ryua sat leaned against the kitchen hearth, mind blank except for the relief of not being in pain.
