Disclaimer: In no way do I own or claim to own Harry Potter. That is the original work of JKR and I'm not stupid enough to attempt to steal it.

If you're very squeamish, you probably won't like this chapter. Lexi has a bit of a self-destructive habit that is somewhat gross.

The Enlightenment

"Curious things, habits. People themselves never knew they had them." - Agatha Christie

Chapter 4: Revolting-(adj) arousing feelings of disgust or nausea

Tonks entered the holding cell, forcing herself not to shiver at the standard white walls, white floor, white uniform of the prisoner, bright lights, and the feeling of being watched, which she most certainly was. It had always been like this, as long as she had been an Auror. The cells disturbed her more than the criminals did. It was a place one could easily go mad in. She almost went mad in those cells and she didn't even have to be in there long. Azkaban was even worse.

Lexi Medley was lounged on the bed, looking as comfortable as ever. The only thing giving away any sign of nervousness was the way she scratched her hand. Tonks and Kingsley Shacklebolt had soon figured out that the cut between Medley's knuckles was from her scratching at the skin there. Blood was caked under the pointer and middle fingernails of her right hand and blood drizzled over and off her left hand, marring the otherwise immaculate uniform she wore. Tonks figured it wouldn't be long until Medley was scratching bone rather than skin, but that wasn't her problem to worry about and there was nothing she could do about it short of keeping Medley constantly immobilized, which she couldn't do for fear of making her clam up again.

"Shacklebolt was already here," Medley stated, not looking away from the ceiling as Tonks stood there. Damn it, this woman was creepy. The scratching continued, taking off flesh with every movement, more blood surging out of her body.

"I know," Tonks said. "But I wanted to have a chat with you myself."

Scratch. Scratch. Scratch. It made a small, somewhat wet, noise in the silence which should have been broken by a response from Medley. God, Tonks felt sick.

"Were you and Snape very close?" Tonks asked, the noise becoming unbearable for her.

Medley took a deep breath and blew it out then sat up on her bed and leaned against the wall. She stared at the wall opposite her and it seemed a shiver passed through her, but Tonks could've imagined it. "I don't know if close is the right word."

Tonks waited a minute for her to continue, but she didn't. "What is the right word, then?"

Medley gave a slight shrug of her shoulders. "I don't know. We were friends, I suppose, and we knew a lot about each other. I don't think it would've happened if we weren't forced to spend time together."

"Why were you forced to spend time together?" Tonks asked. Medley remained silent, her jaw clenched shut. Tonks tried a different line of questioning. "Did your father beat you?"

The scratching stopped for just a moment, but started up again as Medley answered. "Yes."

"Did Snape know?"

Medley let out a bitter, disturbing laugh. She looked at Tonks with a vaguely malicious sneer. "Of course he knew," she spat. "His father joined in sometimes. Dear Severus watched."

Tonks was startled by the hatred in her voice. She couldn't even be sure what or who it was directed at. But, even more startling, Snape had watched. Tonks' mind was churning with questions. Did Snape watch because he enjoyed it, or because he had to? Did he ever try to do anything? Was it often? Did she hate Snape because of that? Did they ever do anything more than beating?

"Did he ever try to do anything?" Tonks finally asked.

"Oh, of course. But he would just get beaten as well until they turned back to me and…" She trailed off, looking at Tonks with something akin to fear in her eyes. It made her seem more human, but in a strange way it also made her seem mad. Fear wasn't an expression Medley's face should've been capable of.

"And?" Tonks prompted gently, quietly.

"Nothing," she mumbled, turning her head away. The scratching, which had stopped for a few moments, resumed, seemingly worse than before.

"What happened the last time you saw Snape?" Tonks asked, forcing herself not to show her frustration.

"Why does it matter?" Medley snapped. She turned angry eyes on Tonks, whose hand was inching towards her wand in case Medley tried anything.

"I'm just trying to learn a few things," Tonks said in what she hoped was a calming voice.

Medley growled deep in her throat and turned her head away again. Tonks just stood there for a moment, then turned and left the holding cell again, closing the heavy door behind her and locking Medley in. She walked stiffly through the hall full of cells similar to Medley's, then exited that part of the Ministry and went to the nearest bathroom. Once there, she leaned against one of the walls, wiped the sweat off the back of her neck. There was something decidedly disturbing and revolting about someone who could do that to their own hand, and as the image rose in her mind, Tonks fell to her hands and knees, retching onto the floor.

After a few minutes, she moved so she could lean against the wall, drawing the back of a shaking hand across her mouth. She was starting to have second thoughts about keeping Medley there. She needed to be in a Muggle hospital where she could be strapped to a bed and kept heavily medicated. Tonks was going to remember that sight and that awful sound for a very, very long time.

A/N: Constructive criticism is very welcome. Please, if you see any way in which this can be improved, don't hesitate to inform me. However, I ask that you do it in a helpful manner, and that you don't just say, "This is terrible." Thank you!