Disclaimer: J. K. Rowling owns the characters and things you recognize.
"Terror and horror are so far opposite, that the first expands the soul, and awakens the faculties to a high degree of life; the other contracts, freezes, and nearly annihilates them . . . where lies the great difference between terror and horror, but in the uncertainty and obscurity, that accompany the first, respecting the dreaded evil?" – Ann Radcliffe
"Wake up, little girl." At first, Lily Evans could not ascertain whether the voice was in her dream or not. As the whisper persisted, and the person began to shake her gently, she slowly opened her eyes, and gasped at the stranger standing above her.
The man was fairly tall, about 6'1" (1.85 m), in his late twenties or early thirties, with short auburn hair, sticking out everywhere, not in the haphazard way in which James Potter's hair grew, but in the untamed way in which Albert Einstein's pictures depict him. His eyes seemed black in the dim light of his wand, and a speck of yellow resided in each pupil. His face was hollow and pale, as if it had seen little sun in the past several years. His brows were thick and untamed, completing the picture of horror the man evoked in Lily's senses.
Instinctively, Lily reached for her wand on her nightstand, but met merely with air, accompanied by the malevolent laughter of the man. "You won't be getting this back," he said, pulling Lily's wand out of the pocket of his robes, "but, if you do what I say, everything will work out fine." His tone indicated that everything would not be fine, of course.
Finding her voice, Lily spoke out, "Why should I do what you say?"
"I have . . . certain leverage that may persuade you to obey me. Not only do I have your Head Boy, but I also have access to your other friends over in the Seventh Year Gryffindor dormitory." Lily could tell that this man was not in his right mind, and endeavoured to believe him.
"What do you want with me and my friends?"
"Oh, so Potter is your friend now? I don't really want much with your friends, just with you. The only way to get you, though, is to rely on your Gryffindor bravery." His voice dripped with sarcasm on the last word, implying that bravery was synonymous with stupidity. "Now, I want you to get up and go into the lovely bathroom that you and your dear Head Boy share."
Legs shaking, Lily climbed out of bed and stumbled towards the door leading to the luxurious bathroom she and James got to share, one of the many perks of being a Head Student. She fumbled with the doorknob before managing to turn it and pull the door open. She stepped inside, the man following right behind her, and gasped at what she saw. James Potter was standing there in pajama pants, bound by thick, silver ropes around his ankles and torso, pinning his arms to his sides. He tried to speak when he saw Lily, but he could not. It became apparent that the man had placed a Silencing Charm on him.
"Do you two meet in here often?" the man asked, suggestively. James stared at the man with a look of utter disgust as he forced Lily further into the large bathroom.
She turned around and glared at him, "I can walk on my own," she snarled.
The man pointed her wand at James. "Now, you may want to think about what you say and do. Any spell I cast with this wand will appear as if you are responsible. Do you want to go to Azkaban? Further, do you want his torment, or even death, on your shoulders because you insisted on being insubordinate?" Lily shook her head. "Good. If you try to do anything besides what I say, not only does Potter get punished, but your girlfriends will suffer as well. Understood?" Lily nodded this time.
"Excellent." He grinned devilishly, "Now, fill the bathtub with water. Just plain water. No bubbles. No perfumes. Just water."
While not the pool-sized bathtub that was in the Prefects bathroom, this tub was to be preferred. It was large, perfect for soaking, and had jets that could be turned on if needed. Lily approached the bathtub and turned the first knob, filling it with water of the perfect temperature for bathing. She chanced a glance over at James and noted the same confusion on his face as she felt. Her gaze returned to the quickly filling bathtub, and as she watched the water stream out of the sides, her mind wandered to one of the many arguments she had had with James . . .
"You can't just assume that you can take a bath whenever you want. We have to share this bathroom, Potter. You know that word? Share? Most of us learned it in primary school."
"But Evans, I have to take a bath after Quidditch practice every night. Otherwise, my muscles won't recuperate like they should, and where would the team be then? Do you want to be responsible for the incapability of the Gryffindor team's star Chaser? I don't think you do."
"I'm not telling you not to take a bath. I'm telling you not to take so bloody long. I need to brush my teeth . . ."
"I think that is full enough for our purposes." Lily fretted over what "our purposes" were, but she hid her feelings as best she could. She would not have to wait long to discover the answer to her worries, though, for the man continued, "Now, I want you to get undressed."
Lily, whose gaze had once more turned to look at the stationary form of James Potter, snapped back to the man. Seeing the defiant look that crossed her countenance, the man twirled her wand a couple of times before shooting a curse at James, causing a small incision in his chest. "I mean it, girl!"
Nodding, Lily began to unfasten her nightgown. Movement in the corner of her eye caused her to turn her head back to James. He looked furious and was shaking his head at her vehemently. She looked back at him as if to say, "What can I do?"
She had shed her nightgown and was standing next to the bathtub in her undergarments. "Finish undressing," the man ordered. James indignation grew, and he struggled against his bindings. The man looked at him, "I thought you would enjoy this. Isn't this every boy's fantasy?" James gagged soundlessly. "Apparently not."
The man then turned back to Lily. "What are you waiting for? Or do we need another lesson?" he asked, brandishing her wand once more. Shaking, and with fierce indignation, Lily removed the rest of her clothing.
The man leered at the young woman, who was slender, but not overly skinny. James kept his gaze at eye level and above, respecting her dignity, what little was left.
"You are very beautiful," the man said after scrutinizing her. "It's too bad what we have to do with you."
At this, James glared at the man with even more vehemence than before and began to struggle against the silver ropes once more. The man turned to the young man, saying, "I told you when I brought you in here that you were not to struggle, and I would give your little girlfriend a quick death. Do you need a lesson in obedience, too?" He now revealed James' wand, pulling it from the pocket of his robes, where he had put it when he stole into James' dormitory shortly before entering Lily's.
"I can use this on the lovely lady, and no one will be any the wiser as to the real castor of any spell. You certainly have reason to use it on her. Jealousy. Revenge for all the time you spent chasing her. Indignation for yelling at you and embarrassing you all those years. The list goes on and on. If you want her to have more pain than necessary, by all mean, continue struggling."
As the man turned his attention back to Lily, James thought back to the mere twenty minutes prior, though it felt like a lifetime, when the man had sneaked into his room and bound him in his sleep. James had awoken, finding himself restrained by strong silver ropes and unable to speak. He had tried to cry out when the man first leaned over him, for he recognized him from the walls of his dad's office. Mr. Potter was an Auror and was entrusted with the capture of the most malicious criminals. The man tormenting Hogwart's Head Students was none other than the Count Dioscuri Morano, the most wanted of all criminals. The man had whispered to him that he had a "surprise" for him, and that he would greatly enjoy it, but he must not misbehave. James had tried to cry out once more, knowing that there was some plan to attack his friends or Lily, wanting to warn someone, anyone. . . .
James snapped back to the present as Count Morano addressed him once more, "You aren't watching the show I made specially for you. Look at this girl standing here." James shook his head stubbornly. He pointed James' wand at Lily once more. "Now!"
James looked into Lily's eyes and saw the tears of humiliation she was trying, with minimal success, to suppress. He was debating whether he should hurt her dignity or risk her receiving physical harm, when Count Morano pressed James' wand to her throat, yelling, "I said now, you son of a b----!" Apologetically, James maintained Lily's gaze for another brief moment before lowering to the rest of her body.
"Do you like what you see?" For the first time, James was thankful to the Count, for his words allowed him to look away from Lily in her humiliated and vulnerable state. His relief was short-lived, however, for Count Morano repeated his question with more vehemence, stabbing James' wand further into Lily's throat. Slowly, James nodded his agreement. "I thought so," the Count sneered, slowly withdrawing the wand.
"Walk over to Potter," the Count ordered Lily, and she slowly did as he said. "Good, now reach into his left pocket, the one by your right hand. I left a surprise for you, something from Potter's bedside table."
With trembling hands, Lily reached into the pocket of his pajama pants and withdrew a silver pocketknife. She remembered when he first got it. . . .
It was Christmas of their sixth year. He and all of his friends had received pocketknives from Sirius' Uncle Alphard. They claimed they could cut through almost anything, magical or otherwise. James had bragged endlessly about his new knife and what he could do with it. He could break into the Slytherin Common Room if he wanted to. He could torment Snape as much as he wanted. He never succeeded in either of these things, of course, because Lily herself had interfered. Around mid-January, James had cornered Snape, trapping him against the wall, and was threatening to break into his dorm room and find out secrets that could embarrass him beyond all reason. Lily happened to walk by at this time and admonished James, taking points away from Gryffindor, angering both James and Snape, who despised being saved by the "Mudblood" once more.
She had been staring at the knife for nearly a minute. James, who had figured out what Morano was probably trying to do, began struggling anew. Lily, whose fear was clouding his sense of thought, merely turned slowly to the Count and asked, "What is this all about?"
"All in good time, my dear. Now, take that knife with you and get into the bathtub." At that, Lily's rationality returned, allowing her mind to create numerous scenarios of what this deranged man may be wanting her to do.
"What if I refuse?" Lily asked, stubbornly setting her chin.
"Then Potter goes. Then Alice. Then Serena. Then your father. Shall I continue?"
Defeated once more, Lily shook her head.
"Bathtub. Now." Lily walked once more to the bathtub, heart pounding, climbed in, and sat in the still-hot water. Morano chuckled monotonously. "Now, slit your wrists."