Insert usual disclaimer here :P
Author's note: Thank you to Aleah, Denarii, Mdman1 for being my betas and editing this for me! And for Noone 297 for being amazing and helping with the French character!
Also special thanks to my readers anand891996, gr8rockstarrox, Amandalucia, guest, trispectrum, audra626, PorcelainPuppetLady, infinateconstellations, Naruhina1519, cw1991, Blue Luver5000, calhounariel97, guest, guest, guest, Scarlet, and baby03 for the reviews!
Chapter 83
She couldn't stop shaking. She busied her hands with the thestral in its pen and distracted herself with the task of grooming. It had been a long time since she had come to visit the beasts, and she wondered if there was any recognition in those milky eyes as they stared at her. She thought about what she was going to say, what she could say. Her mind raced with each passing second and she did her best to fight it, to slow it down so she could get a real handle on her emotions and thoughts.
He had to take the Mark. Not just for them, but for himself. She imagined Neville gone from this world and her heart grew so heavy she could barely breathe. Siding with Harry—with a child—was going to get him killed. No one would look after Neville the way people looked out for Harry. He would just be another person on a very long list to die for the Boy Who Lived. She couldn't let that happen, not to Neville.
She told herself that wouldn't happen as she furiously rubbed oil on the reptilian skin in front of her. Neville would see reason and she would make sure nothing and no one touched him. Draco would too. He would be safe; she would ensure that. He was not going to die in this damn war. There was no reason for him to. He was a pureblood, this wasn't their war. It wasn't their problem.
Even as she told herself this she knew Neville wouldn't see it that way. But they would talk and she was going to do her best to make him see, not throw a fit and walk out. She wished he really did love her. This would all be simpler if he did.
"I've never understood your obsession with these beasts."
Graces' jumped at the familiar voice and hot breath on the base of her neck and damned her eye for its blindness.
Nott gave a dark chuckle as she turned. "Did I frighten you?"
"Surprised," Graces corrected. Nausea, true and cold, struck her, but she didn't allow it to show on her face.
He flicked his eyebrows up in amusement, as though she were a child playing a fantasy game of pretend. "Surprised," he repeated.
Graces gave a hum of confirmation and casually walked to the other side of the thestral, dragging her hand against the scaly body that would now act as a barrier between her and the enemy in front of her.
Nott smirked and lazily rested his arms on the horse-like back in front of him. "How are you these days, Miss Malfoy?"
"Fine." Where was her wand. She did her best to casually peek at the stool she had set it on without drawing attention. It was gone. Her heart stopped.
"You're not going to ask how I am?"
He had it. She looked up at him, not allowing her face to yield any hint of her fear.
"I don't care how you've been," she retorted blandly. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I am quite busy."
Each heartbeat felt like a lifetime as she continued pretending to be focused on rubbing oil on skin. Her hands remained steady, but she felt anything but as Nott continued watching her with predatory stillness.
After a moment he reached into his pocket and Graces froze as he casually examined her wand.
"Hawthorn?" he asked casually.
"Holly," Graces breathed, unable to take her eyes off her wand.
"That's right," Nott crooned. "How could I forget? Draco was hawthorn. You had holly… but same core correct? Unicorn hair?" Graces nodded, but knew better than to reach out to try and take her wand back. "Is your skin crawling?" She met the eyes staring down at her. Nott grinned and casually chucked her wand over his shoulder far away somewhere on the other side of the barn.
Graces gritted her teeth. "What do you want?"
"I want you to ask me how I've been."
Careful, a gentle voice ordered in her head.
"How have you been, Nott?" Graces asked casually, too casually.
"Not so good," he said flatly.
He fell silent, a cue for her to ask why. "Oh," she breathed, doing her best to play the part he wanted while she tried to figure out a plan. "How so?"
"Well," the other boy drawled. "I've been having some problems in my extracurricular activities."
"I'm being undermined a lot in front of the Dark Lord. Some would even say I was being purposely made to look like a fool." His words were so low there was no mistaking the threat lingering in the air. "You wouldn't know anything about that, would you, Graces?" She shook her head slowly. "No? You haven't asked Montague for such favors?" Again she shook her head, slowly moving her hands away from the thestral and backing away.
The movement caught his eye and she suppressed a shiver as his dark eyes focused in on her. "You never did like to get your hands dirty," Nott said, his voice calm in that way that made her want to try and run. Figure out what he wants first. "Tell me what did you have to give Montague to gain him as an ally? How did you convince him to slyly steal my tasks? To point out my every mistake? To casually make me a joke?" His eyes dipped down surveying her, the curves of her breasts under her shirt and it took every ounce of her self restraint not to cover her chest with her arms.
I will not be afraid. I will not be afraid.
"You know he tortured Draco," Nott continued idly.
Her tongue suddenly felt too heavy in her mouth.
"Our Lord ordered it and Graham fulfilled his order," Nott said, his eyes dancing with delight. "Montague was ordered to bring the memory of the event. He tortured your brother to the point where he pissed himself, gave him a break and started again. Never leaving a mark, lest you find out."
She fought the urge to close her eyes, and bit her lips together to keep the sob in her throat from slipping out.
"Tell me, Graces, how do you feel about Montague now?"
"I-I feel bad for him," Graces breathed, barely able to keep the sob contained. "I can't—I can't imagine how hard that was for him. For both of them," she sniffed.
A shadow flickered across his face and she tried not to even breath loudly, lest he hear the rattle of fear within her. An utter stillness crept over his body and it was in that moment that Graces knew to run.
She lunged to the right and threw her arm out in a single blow to Nott's temple as she made it for the pen door. The hit and her nimble maneuvering was enough to get her out of the tight pen and into the open barn before she was captured and slammed against a wall not once but twice. Once for force and the second for good measure. Her head rang from the blow and it took her a moment to be able to focus on the face in front of her or the dagger at her throat.
"Scared, Malfoy?"
When she didn't answer, Nott's lip curled and she wasn't surprised in the least when he administered a hard blow to her cheek with the hilt of the dagger. The coppery taste of blood filled her mouth.
"I asked you a question."
She lifted her chin and glared at her attacker in defiance. This time he knocked the wind out of her. She buckled as the air left her, but he yanked her back up.
"I want to hear you say it," he pressed, dragging the sharp edge of his weapon down to trace her collar bone. "I want to hear you say 'I'm scared'."
This was about power, about control. He wanted to hear her humble herself before him. He moved the dagger lower, letting its tip draw lazily on her skin until it reached the opening of her blouse and rested delicately above her breasts. Her palms suddenly turned clammy and her heart beat faster. She stood there wandless and alone, wishing she could sink into the wall and escape.
"I'm scared," she relinquished, feeling the tip of his blade digging into her skin.
A cruel smile formed on his lips. "Now tell me you love me."
Her eyes widened and the air in her lungs was sucked out.
"I don't think you actually do," he grinned. "I just want to hear you say it."
"What are you doing, Nott?" she breathed. "Just let me go."
"Say it," he demanded digging the knife in so a small amount of blood came onto the silver. "And make me believe it, Graces. Make me believe it and perhaps you will get to walk out of here."
She swallowed and tried to make her tongue obey his command. It wouldn't move though. It all felt wrong. Fear or disgust prevented her from obeying. She closed her eyes and willed herself to mutter the words and so they came muddied with fear and desperation.
"You can do better than that," Nott challenged, pressing closer to her and making her feel, if possible, smaller. "Try again."
She was trembling with fear and in the back of her mind she knew that he wasn't really going to let her go, that this wouldn't be over regardless of what she said or did, but she wanted to try. She wanted to attempt to escape. She closed her eyes and thought of Draco, thought of all the happy and warm memories she had with him and how much she wanted to see him again.
"I love you," she sobbed desperately, thinking of Draco and how tight she would hug him to her when she saw him again. She wanted that so badly, to see him again, to smell his familiar scent to hear the vibrations of his speech as she laid her head against his chest. Her words could not have sounded more sincere, because even as she said them she prayed Draco could somehow hear them, somehow feel them wherever he was now.
She wasn't sure how her words angered Nott and she screamed into the night as he hurt her more and demanded she try again.
"Say it to me the way I want you to say it," he growled, his fingers digging into the skin on her face as he forced her to look at him. "Say it to me the way you would say it to Montague." He practically spat the name out, as though the mere letters on his lips were distasteful.
Her heart raced. She didn't love Graham. She couldn't imagine him in her head and say such a thing. She couldn't imagine anyone in her head and say such a thing.
No?
Neville crept into her mind. Neville smiling over at her from his desk. His eyes turning to her after making love and his gentle hands caressing her face. She pushed those images away, not willing to think of them or why they came into her mind now. No matter how hard she pushed though they came back and she didn't have time to fight his memory if they would help her get away.
She looked up at Nott's face and tried to imagine Neville in front of her. She could see him, his memory was so heavy in this room she didn't have a problem envisioning him in front of her. She thought of her last encounter with him. He was so angry, so hurt. It tore her up thinking that the last time she saw him he had wanted to walk away. She was so filled with regret now. He was waiting for her, right now he was standing in their room waiting for her. Thinking she had changed her mind, that she didn't want to be there.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, tearing up from a different sort of pain. "I'm so sorry." She met Nott's eyes and for a heartbeat it was Neville looking down at her, his face confused and bewildered. "I-I love you."
She didn't know what hurt more, saying it to Nott or saying it and realizing that maybe—just maybe—it was true. Her world shattered and she broke with the weight of her words and their possible meaning.
It was what he wanted. She could see it in his eyes that she had said it in exactly the manner he had wanted, and that for a brief moment her words had even rang true to him. His lip curled and the rage he had built up for her seemed to catch fire. Her words had been fuel on an already wild fire.
Her stomach roiled, but she moved first. She slammed her knee hard into Nott's crotch and ran forward while the Death Eater was doubled over in pain.
She didn't make it halfway to the barn door before pain raked down her body, bringing her to her knees. She thrashed around trying to escape the torture that overtook her. When it stopped Nott stood over her. Her body still echoed with the pain of the curse, but she tried to roll away. A swift kick met her stomach, knocking the wind from her. She still couldn't breathe when Nott's weight settled on her and he began tearing at her blouse.
"No!" She knew it was useless. Her consent was the last thing the boy on top of her cared about, but she said it anyways. Screamed it. Repeated it again and again. "No-no-no-no!" She screamed it even after the silencing charm was placed on her. She didn't care how useless the words were she said it for her, screamed it for her.
She tried to push him off. She scratched, bit, at one point even tried to headbutt him, but it was to no avail. He was bigger, stronger and had a wand. She was powerless and in that moment she hated herself as much as she hated him. Hated her frail body, her useless words and her inability to protect herself.
His hand snaked up her skirt and tore off the cloth that acted as her only shield, making her sick to her stomach. Then as he fumbled with his belt she remembered the ring Neville gave her. She wriggled her left hand out from his clutches and pressed it hard against his face.
Nothing happened, nothing seemed to be stopping him. His laugh echoed through her.
And suddenly it all became clear. Impotence. The ring had an impotence charm on it.
She didn't know if she was laughing or crying. Neville's words rang in her head. "It will only protect you from one thing." An impotency charm. She never would have guessed. Relief flooded over her in waves. She was so caught up in her mirth she didn't notice Nott's glaring down at her, but she did notice when his hands wrapped around her throat.
The edges of her vision were darkening and she felt lighter with each passing second. The terror of not getting breath into her lungs was subsiding and the darkness was overtaking.
She didn't know how long she had been out, but she knew the pain in her ribs was real. The barn was in chaos, the thestrals were raging around her, not noticing they were trampling her- breaking her beneath them. She moved to get up, but stopped as another thestral wheeled it's front hooves over her head.
She rolled over on her belly, frightened of the hooves stomping down around her. After a few terrifying moments where her cheek was planted to the floor, she realized they weren't trampling her, at least not purposely. They were saving her. The blood soaking her and sticking to her tongue was not just her own, but Nott's. The thestrals were still attacking him as she laid there on the floor, not caring for the cuts he was inflicting on them as he tried to get away. She wondered where his wand was, but was soon answered as she saw broken wood lying near her.
She focused on her breathing and relaxed in the knowledge that she was going to walk away from this. Going to walk away with only broken bones. He was getting away, but she didn't care. She laid on the ground, relieved for her broken bones and cuts. One of the thestrals nipped at her back, telling her to stand, but she made no move to do so. She didn't think she could.
She could hear someone running up and the noises of the beasts grew grander. Beckoning for whoever was in the distance to come faster. She vaguely noted that the barn doors had been left ajar and some thestrals were running outside, bucking violently around in the night. They kicked the barn's wood with such force she feared the whole building would buckle.
"How did you all get out? In your pens now. Go on." She heard Hagrid administer a few curse words under his breath that was a much grander vocabulary of swear words than she was used to hearing. She waited for him to find her. It wouldn't be much longer considering he was just outside the barn doors rounding up the thestrals who had gone out. She tried to cover her chest and winced as she realized two of her fingers had been crushed under the hooves.
Just breathe, she told herself again and again, focusing on anything but her vulnerability. A chill swept over her, reminding her of how exposed she was, but she didn't try and move again. She felt paralyzed lying there as she heard Hagrid cross the threshold. And she only allowed herself to cry as the professor found her and quickly threw his coat over her and picked her up into his arms.
sssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss
"Halt! State your business!"
Healer Durand raised a perfectly sculpted brow at the woman's demand, but did as she said. Recognizing the auror cloak, despite the fact the auror in front of her looked to be something far from professional with her bubblegum pink hair.
"Bonjour," she greeted simply, not bothering to hide her judgmental stare.
"These are private grounds, no one is permitted—"
"I have been summoned by a Professor 'Agrid," the healer said, looking down her nose at the woman who was now standing in front of her trying to direct her away.
"Do you have a letter?" the woman challenged.
"I was firecalled."
"Firecalled in the dead of night?"
"Obviously," Durand drawled slowly, her patience wearing thin.
"I will need to check on this, before I can allow you to pass."
Durand bristled at the delay, but didn't argue.
"Name?"
"Healer Durand."
"Healer?" the woman repeated, her face betraying her own anxiety.
"Oui. Healer."
"Why is Hagrid calling a healer?"
"I am under no obligation to answer zat," the older woman replied. "Make your inquiries quickly so zat I may pass."
The auror stared at her for a few moments, obviously trying to figure out if this was all an elaborate lie.
"I will escort you," the woman decided. "You will relinquish your wand and belongings and once we reach Hagrid, if he confirms what you say to be true, you will have it back."
Durand pursed her lips, not at all happy to relinquish her belongings, but in the end did just that. She didn't know how long it would take to get Hagrid's confirmation, and considering what she had seen last time with Graces she didn't want to be held up longer.
The auror adjusted herself to the weight of the bag and pocketed the wand in her hoster, while she maintained her's out.
"When are you due?" Durand asked, eyeing the auror's protruding belly.
"April, middle or end."
"And you're still working?"
"Why not?" The auror asked, conjuring a patronus that made the healer jump back. She had never seen a werewolf patronus. "I need another auror at the entrance to Hogsmeade, I need to escort someone through the grounds," she instructed sending the whisk of blue away to deliver her message.
"Because your job is dangerous and you are less capable of doing it being in your last trimester." Durand began walking along the path, not bothering to go slow despite not knowing where she should be going.
"Standing post isn't that hard."
Durand bit back a retort, deciding it wouldn't be wise to upset an auror at a time like this.
"I was instructed to go to the Professor's home."
"Not to the infirmary?"
"Did I say I was instructed to go to ze infirmary?"
"You're not saying much of anything," the auror pointed out irritatedly.
Durand said nothing and soon they slipped into silence except for the crunching of twigs and the forest.
She thought of what the giant had said. How he found her, her refusal to allow him to take her to the castle, her insistence that only she be the one to see her and for the first time in many years she felt unraveled.
"I'm Tonks, by the way."
She acted as though she had not heard the woman and continued walking, continued thinking. Her clothes had been torn the other time, and nothing so vile had happened. This could be something similar.
"You're pretty rude, anyone ever tell you that?"
"I don't usually speak wis 'alf-bloods, especially ones married to werewolves."
"Hey, don't be so self-conscious. We're an accepting lot. The stick in your ass is hardly noticeable in this light. I'm willing to ignore it if you are."
It took the healer a bit too long to piece together what the other woman said, and by the time she did Hagrid's hut was in sight. She wrinkled her nose at the small little abode, but briskly walked up, Tonks right on her heels the whole time. She could hear a dog barking madly at their approach and a gruff voice demanding silence, before the door was swung open.
"I am Healer Durand," she introduced, waiting for the man to allow her entrance.
"Come in, come in," the giant waved, moving to the side.
She nodded and held out her hands for her wand and bag. Tonks gave them to her, but maintained her focus on Hagrid.
"Hagrid what's—"
"As you can see I was summoned, so you may return back to your post," the healer said, going up the few small stairs leading to the door. The area was completely open, the kitchen, living room and bedroom all seemed to be just one giant room. It was cluttered and there were clothes thrown over chairs and pots and pans out that didn't have the opportunity to fit in an already overflowing cabinet.
And then there was Graces, sitting on the bed with a coat that could be a tent wrapped around her. She stared at the bruising on her neck in the shape of nails, her exposed collarbone and missing shoe before looking away and pretending to busy herself with taking off her scarf while she tried to figure out what to do.
"Merlin's beard, what happened?"
Durand turned at the Auror's words, she had not realized that the woman had stayed. She turned and looked at Graces waiting for an answer as well. The blonde didn't give any though, she continued to just sit shaking violently on the bed.
Shock. She was in shock.
"Hagrid," Tonks continued, her hair turning from pink to a more somber shade of mousy blonde. "What happened?"
The burly man leaned forward and whispered something in the auror's ear before choking back a sob and looking down. Tonks didn't move, didn't even seem to breathe. Her face paled and her mouth opened ever so slightly before she stared at her cousin.
Graces glared at Hagrid with such hatred and betrayal she was surprised he didn't burst into flame.
"Auror Tonks was guarding ze entrance. She insisted on escorting me," Durand said gently, coming closer and blocking anyone's view.
"Make her leave," Graces ordered, her voice a strained whisper leading the others to believe she had either screamed for help for a while, or the bruising on her neck caused more damage than to just the skin.
The healer nodded and turned her chin to the door, silently directing the other woman to leave. She didn't though, she stood there staring at her, seeing everything Graces didn't want her to see. The bloodied hair with no head injury, the bruising around her neck showing the marks of Nott's fingers. Her exposed collarbone. The fingernail missing from her right hand's middle finger and the bruised cheek that clearly came from a punch.
Tonks moved forward, pushing Durand's hand away as she went to Graces. The younger girl flinched as the auror moved her hair to get a better look at the bruising on her neck.
"Who di—"
"Get away from me!" Graces growled, slapping the other woman's hand away and biting back a yelp as her mangled hand made contact with the other woman's. "No one did this to me," she hissed, turning and looking away. "I got trampled by the thestrals."
No one in the room believed Graces' words, and it was obvious that Graces herself knew her excuse to be poor.
"I insist on being alone wif my patient," the healer demanded, stopping the auror from her interrogation before it began. "Immediately."
Tonks seemed dangerously close to refusing, but Hagrid quietly beckoned for her to come with him outside. The auror's mouth twisted, but she begrudgingly obeyed.
"I would think that we all would want to keep this quiet," Graces began gently, stopping Tonks and Hagrid in the doorway. "I do like the thestrals, but if we go to the school, if anyone outside our party discusses this, then my mother would not hesitate in going to the Ministry to have each and every one of them put down for causing me such injuries. I would hate for this incident to turn into one like the hippogriff's. It really would be a shame."
"Don' say that," Hagrid pleaded. "You know they were only trying to help you. You wouldn't do 'at. You love 'em just as much as I do."
Graces took a deep breathe and her body tightened. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "But that's what happened. My story will not change."
"You don't need to be frightened," Tonks said gently. "Whoever your attacker is won—"
"I had no attacker," Graces maintained. "It was only the thestrals. If you do not wish any harm to come to them, then I suggest you not go making up any stories about what you think happened here. It would be better for all parities if this accident was kept between us four."
Tonks stared at her, stared at her for a long time before finding her words.
"Not saying what happened won't make this go away. It's not going to change what happened, but telling us will at least change the aftermath. It will at the very least bring you justice. I swear it will."
Graces featured darkened, and her pretty bloodstained lips tightened before saying "Only the righteous seek justice."
I know what you're all thinking omg another month until the next chapter! Well, you're in luck. Next chapter is finished and with my betas! So if it's a month it's on them not me for once :P Sorry, this took so long. I don't write a lot of violent scenes and it took me a lot of time to be able to write this one to the point where I felt like it was well written. (Also, you can blame Denarii for the cliffhanger, he fet that was a good ending point.)