Song Suggestion: Labrinth- "Still Don't Know My Name"

A/N: There is one attempted assault, but it's not as dark of a chapter as the last one.

Something Else

September 1997

Katie

They stared at the night sky together in silence. It was strangely comfortable. This was not how she imagined her night ending. After an hour, the man's breathing slowed, and he fell asleep.

Very carefully, she removed herself from his hold. She sat up, questioning what to do now. She wondered if she could escape now with Voldemort gone, her captor asleep, and the other Death Eaters distracted. They rested near a field of tall grass. She could hide in it and run. It might be morning before they noticed she was gone.

Just as she thought it, she dismissed it. What if it angered the Death Eater enough, he did decide to share? Fenrir would hunt her down before she could make it to safety.

Her only hope was if she convinced the man to let her go or escape with her. Neither option sounded hopeful when she thought about it. He might have been gentler than she expected, but he was still a threat.

Katie didn't know if she could lie awake until morning, waiting for her life sentence.

Looking at the man, her eyes caught on the mask, wanting nothing more than to know his identity. Her fingers went to the edge of his mask and pushed up, but nothing happened. It stayed in place, as if super glued to his face. The bottom half of the mask was still missing, and she resisted the odd temptation to brush a finger over his full bottom lip.

While contemplating what to do next, she realized the Death Eater gripped his wand in the hand opposite from her, resting in the grass. Before she could talk herself out of it, she made a rash decision. Katie lunged over, grabbed the wand, straddling the brute in the process, and before he could react, she pressed the wand to his throat.

The Death Eater startled awake. Green eyes peered at her past the silver. Both of his hands went to the sides of her legs under her knees, clutching her calves.

He studied her a moment, and then he grinned, as if he thought the situation amusing.

"Do you know what it takes to kill a person while looking into their eyes?" His hands pushed up past her knees to the outside of her thighs and she shivered. They were calloused and large enough they covered most of her exposed skin. "It takes more than courage. It's a self-loathing. You have to hate yourself first."

"Have you?"

"Many times. How do you think I earned you?" His teeth gleamed in the moonlight. "I'm one of the best. But unlike the others, I make it fast. From me, it's mercy."

Her whole body tightened.

"Is that my fate?" She asked him.

He gave a little laugh. It rumbled through his chest under her.

"Mercy? Is that what you want?" His thumbs pushed into the skin of her inner thigh, moving slowly up. "Or do you want to be like Rowle's girl, stuck in my dungeon?"

His mocking words sounded filthy, said in a deep voice that made her stomach drop. Images popped into her mind—depraved ones with her tied up in a dungeon… or would he give her a bed?

Katie shivered, trying to stay focused as his fingers pushed hard on her skin, almost hard enough to leave marks, getting dangerously close to their destination.

"Don't ask me what I'll do," the man continued. He dropped his hands back down to her knees. "You have all the power right now. Wand to my throat. You could make me do anything you want."

Katie withheld a groan at the connotations. How fucked up was she that just the suggestion turned her on? Maybe it was his gentleness, but the way he looked up at her made her skin tingle.

She needed to concentrate. In response, she shoved the wand harder into his skin.

"Take off your mask," she demanded.

"You'd have to kill me."

"But why?"

"You hate me."

"I do?"

"Oh, yeah. You think I'm repulsive. I don't want to see your face when you realize who I am. I'd rather you see me as a ghost."

She wished she recognized him. Most the Slytherin boys bullied her—Ravenclaws as well— because it hurt their male pride when they got beat by a girl at quidditch. It left plenty of options, but none of them fit. To be honest, she never paid enough attention to them to see details. Dark brown hair was cut in an attractive short style. Pretty green eyes peered up at her.

"Order me," he finally said, after they stared at each other in a tense silence. "Tell me what you want. Mercy… or something else."

His hands wrapped around her thighs, and with a hard tug, slid her forward passed his shoulders, landing her on his collarbone. Her thighs now rested on either side of his head, knees curled to the side, and her center rested just below his chin, only separated by a millimeter of air and the thin cloth of her sundress.

She understood what he offered.

The man's breathing increased. She felt the rise and fall below her. His pupils dilated with desire, and it did funny things to her body.

Give him what he wants.

It shamed her that she wanted it too.

She should not be doing this or wanting him in any way. But what would it matter? She'd already fucked the devil once and enjoyed it. What more could a second time hurt? In the morning, she'd either be dead or enslaved. She might as well enjoy being alive. The only thing she wished now was escape from the trauma, the horror. And, if she gave him what he obviously wanted, like Zala suggested, maybe it would keep his goodwill.

Deep down she knew using these justifications for wanting to find escape in pleasure would haunt her later. Even knowing she'd that, she adjusted the wand, so it rested on his cheek.

"Something else," she whispered.

The man went still as stone and then gave a few jagged breaths.

"You don't have to," he said. "I'll never make you do anything."

Katie called his bluff.

"Hands off."

Immediately, he let go.

"You're in charge," he said.

The words made her ache.

"What if I got off you right now?"

"Then that's your choice."

Katie shivered.

"Put them back," she said.

His eyes widened, but he obeyed, hands giving another squeeze to her thighs, sliding up again, until the edges of the dress bunched in his hands, guiding it to her hips.

"Slowly," she warned.

They held each other's stare. His dared her to go further. She wondered what he'd do on her command. Real or fake, after the night of horrors, the idea of control made her tremble in need.

By the time, he slipped her dress to her waist, exposing herself, she was sufficiently aroused.

"What next, mistress?" He kissed her inner thigh, and a tiny whimper of pleasure escaped her lips. "I'm your loyal servant and will do whatever you wish."

Give him what he wants. Zala's words haunted her. It helped she didn't have to manipulate or pretend this time.

She needed the escape again. She needed to regain her freedom of choice, a reversal of fates.

Finding a spark of bravery, she slipped the cardigan off her shoulders, suddenly finding herself overheated. She popped one button on her dress, watching his expression, feeling his quickened breaths, as if he could never believe she did it willingly. Katie didn't understand it either. Maybe it was the sword above her head, but she had never felt so alive, so powerful. Every second seemed vital.

"A lady shouldn't have to undress herself."

"Yes mistress," he said, popping the buttons with calloused fingers that caressed the soft skin on her stomach as he traveled down. When finished, she lifted it over her head and threw it aside, leaving only her bra. She kept that on, still not entirely comfortable.

Truth be told, she suddenly felt exposed and vulnerable, wondering if he saw the rolls on her stomach or the stretchmarks on her hips. But his eyes roved over her as if she was something he wanted to bite and lick and enjoy.

"You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen." He curled his arms under her legs, hands pushing on her bottom to bring her forward.

His lips went back to her soft inner thigh trailing up one side with his tongue, stopping when she almost gasped. Then he pulled back. Before she could protest, his lips went to her other thigh. When he got close to her wet center, he paused, looking at her.

"Please," she gasped. Katie didn't know if she could stand much more of this agony.

"Don't fucking beg me," he said in a hard voice. "I belong to you. Order me. Use me. I don't think you understand the things I'd do, if you only asked."

Katie trembled, wondering what the fuck she was doing, but she wanted this now.

Make me forget, she almost said.

"Make me feel good."

He groaned in his own need, as if he wanted to hear those words for years.

"As you command." He gave a violent tug forward, pushing her up and closer to his face, so that she hovered over his mouth, knees pressed to the ground. His tongue pushed against her, and then licked up to her clit. A strange sound exited her mouth, one she'd never made.

"You taste exactly like I thought you would."

She touched his head for balance, curling her fingers into his thick brown hair as he buried his face into her, until she rocked on him, unable to stop herself. He gave a hum in appreciation, and it vibrated against her.

Without warning, he added his fingers, gently slipping inside her, curling against a spot that made her shudder. The feeling of both being filled and licked was almost more than she could take. She rolled her hips against his tongue and his fingers.

The edge of his mask dug into her thighs when her release came, and she yelled out a quiet cry. In a sudden motion, the man grabbed her waist, and before she knew it, she was on the ground under him.

Katie was glad of it. She felt sated and couldn't stay upright. The Death Eater hovered over her, wiping his full lips with a self-satisfied smirk.

"You're magnificent, Bell." He pulled her down so that she was in the same position under him as the first time. "But tonight's far from done."

He almost entered her but stopped when she placed a hand on his arm.

"Not until you undress. It's only fair, and I wish to see you."

He hesitated, but then did as she asked, slipping off his Death Eater robes, then his shirt and his trousers. Katie watched each article of clothing peel from his body and felt like a predator herself. When he finally divested himself of everything except his mask, he stood before her.

For the first time he looked self-conscious, hunched forward a little, as if she wouldn't find him attractive, as if she would suddenly reject him.

He had appealing broad shoulders. Muscles lined his thighs, his abs, his biceps, though maybe not as cut as she thought, carrying a little more weight than some of the men she knew. Not skinny and not fat, but powerful. Beautiful was the wrong word. Maybe scary. Beastly. Scars—some big, some little—crisscrossed along his body, a testament to his brutality. He twisted one wrist towards his body, as if to hide the ugly dark mark on his forearm from her. On his other he had a stunning dragon tattoo. The Golden creature moved in agitation.

She had never been in control. He could have ripped his wand away if he wanted. Forced her down. Raped her. Broken her. Snapped her neck. He didn't need magic either.

But instead, he'd been gentle with her the whole night. Gave her the power to say no. She had an innate feeling if she had resisted, even at the beginning of the night, he would have listened, despite the threat of death.

Zala had told her to give him what he wanted. Katie understood now what that was. She opened her thighs further in invitation, smiling sweetly at him.

"I want you inside me," she said.

He gave a noticeable shiver. Green eyes looked almost scared of her, as if she'd vanish if he closed them.

He crawled to her, and when they finally touched, it was surprisingly soft. He took his time caressing her, tracing her, kissing her, building her arousal up again. It was an easy job. She was panting and writhing, begging, by the time he entered her. His cock pressed right into the spot that made her curl her legs around him.

"This is right where I belong," he said low in her ear, powerful body encasing her. He rocked his hips into her, bringing one hand up to her throat. "Say your mine. If only for tonight, say you're mine."

He finally sounded like the beast he was.

She didn't care anymore. Shame left long ago.

"I'm yours."

He gave a gruff moan, moving faster, squeezing her throat just a little harder.

"Merlin, you're going to get me killed one day."

He tugged down her bra and brought her breast in his mouth and sucked.

Katie gave a low cry when his tongue lapped against her nipple. So he did it again. And again. The agony and pleasure lingered and built, until she couldn't take it anymore.

"Please, please…just…" She rambled in her begging.

"Cum for me," he demanded, mouth still over her breast, lips twisted in a smile.

And with the next violent snap of his hips, she did as he asked. Moments later, he filled her with heat, biting into her shoulder with his pleasure, her name mumbled into her neck.

After they finished panting against each other, he dressed himself in silence and helped her put her dress and cardigan back on. When he laid down, she curled into his awaiting arms without any more hesitation. A warm blue light glowed over her stomach as he completed a contraceptive spell.

Before she drifted off to sleep, she felt his lips on her head.

"Don't hate yourself tomorrow," he whispered.

Katie

She woke up to Fenrir hovering over her, full of sharp teeth, reeking of decay.

Katie almost screamed, but his hand went over her mouth, claws pressing against her cheek. One wrong move, and they'd pierce the skin.

"If you're quiet, I'll leave you in one piece," he whispered into her ear, hot breath making her gag. "He'll never even know I've sampled his leftovers."

He pulled her away from the Death Eater. The man was still asleep, one hand resting on his expansive chest. Katie attempted to press her toe to his side to wake him without Fenrir seeing her, but he dragged her before she could make contact.

Katie made a low scream in her throat, cut off by his hand. It only made Fenrir angry. The werewolf roughly grabbed her waist, mouth to her ear.

"Scream and I'll make sure you never can again."

Tears pooled in Katie's eyes. She'd foolishly allowed herself to hope. It had built higher the more she spent time with the Death Eater. His gentleness. The way something sunk behind his eyes every time he looked at her. She wasn't blind. He wanted her, maybe for a long time.

She should be repulsed by his dark mark, but as the Death Eater vanished out of sight, all she could think about was the way he groaned her name against her throat as if it were some rare treasure he'd found.

Fenrir wouldn't keep her alive. He'd rape her, probably violently, and then dispose of her in a painful way.

After a time, the beast threw her down, giving her a warning stare. Her feet bleed from trying to dig them into the earth. Their location was even more remote than the first time, hidden in the middle of a sea of tall grass.

Katie whimpered as the beast leaned down and traced a claw down her arm.

"I've changed my mind. I'll willingly pay the price to taste your flesh. In the end, it's nothing a few galleons won't fix."

He leaned down with his mouth open as if he'd take a chunk out of her. She screamed, despite herself. It only seemed to excite the beast.

Before teeth could close on her, a hand wrapped around Fenrir's throat. Her Death Eater stood behind the beast, face in a scowl. Every line in his face and body tensed hard.

He growled like he was the werewolf, lifting Fenrir up and slamming him backward into the hard ground, making a soft thump sound.

Fenrir bared his teeth, but the Death Eater hovered over him and pressed his wand into his throat with his free hand.

"Bite me! I dare you."

"I just wanted a little taste."

It was the wrong thing to say. The Death Eater jerked his arm up and slammed the werewolf's head hard into the ground with another thump. Fenrir hissed in pain.

"She's mine!" He roared in Fenrir's face. "Gifted to me by the Dark Lord. I should tell him you tried to steal her from me."

That seemed to finally scare the werewolf. The Death Eater let go, and the beast scrambled back. When he stood up, he glanced between Katie's trembling form and the Death Eater's rage several times before something sparked in his eyes. A slow smirk turned up his lips, showcasing his sharp teeth.

"Go ahead. Maybe then I'll tell the Dark Lord you care for the mudblood as more than a slave."

The threat lingered, and the Death Eater snapped straight, hand tightening on his wand. From her vantage point, he almost looked feral, as if any moment he'd snap and kill Fenrir with a dark curse.

"I don't care for the fucking mudblood." The Death Eater stood and looked at Katie with hard eyes, walking toward her stiffly. "I'm simply not done with her yet." When he got to her, his hand went to her hair, pulling hard on her scalp until she almost cried. "Now suck my cock, Bell, like a good little mudblood. Use that mouth the way you should."

Katie hesitated. His words caused a ball of dread to build in her. Fear spiked across her body.

Until she looked up at him.

For just a fraction of second, his eyes looked pleading, apologetic.

Katie decided to trust him. She grabbed the zipper of his trousers with shaking fingers and pulled down. He wrapped a hand in her hair, holding it like a ponytail. She leaned forward, but he stopped her with a tug of her hair.

"What are you still doing here, Fenrir? I don't like to fuck with an audience. Go crawl back to your master before I find some reason to curse you, fucking half-breed. You're no better than a mudblood. The only reason the Dark Lord keeps you around is as a dog, a pet to do his bidding."

The werewolf growled, looking at Katie again, as if he knew her secrets.

"Someday you'll slip up," he told the Death Eater. "You'll lose the Dark Lord's favor. And when you do, I'll happily feast on your remains."

With one last look of fury, he stalked away, until he disappeared, leaving them alone.

After a time, the Death Eater let go of her hair and pushed her away.

"I…" he started and then stopped. "Merlin, I'm sorry Bell, but it was the only way he'd go."

The Death Eater reached for her cheek gently, and Katie flinched. She didn't mean to, but the Death Eater lurched back as if slapped. His hand dropped, and he looked instantly miserable.

"Right," he muttered. "I knew you'd look at me like that eventually." He sat down with an expression of defeat. Katie still rested on her knees, watching him.

"Are you going to kill me?"

There, she said it—the question she hedged around, afraid to ask. The sun peeked over the ridge, giving the land a blanket of hazy grey. Morning arrived, and a decision lingered.

He grimaced.

"Of course, I'm not going to kill you."

Her heart stopped and then started.

"Then I'm going to your dungeons?"

His eyes flicked up and down in a way that made her shiver.

"If you'd like." He tilted his head, studying her, leaning back on his hands. "Though I have another option."

"Please, just tell me. Can you… can you let me go?"

He sighed and looked away.

"You can't go back to the muggle world. It's too dangerous. I'll tell the Dark Lord you're dead. If I'm careful, he won't investigate it. In the meantime, I own a cottage near the sea, an obscure property no one knows about. You can stay in it until the war ends. If Potter comes out victorious… well, you can go back home, and I'll probably be in Azkaban… or more likely dead."

The thought made Katie ill, though she knew it shouldn't. The man before her wasn't innocent. He admitted he'd killed before, enough to earn the Dark Lord's favor.

"And if he wins?"

The Death Eater's jaw clenched, as if such a future would be terrible, worse than Azkaban.

"Then you can stay there forever. You'd want for nothing. I'll even give you a house elf. Kipper would adore you."

"By myself?" Katie asked. The potential isolation sounded terrible. "Will you visit me?"

She'd have to be blind to miss the look of longing in his stare, as if he'd like nothing more than to spend lazy mornings in a seaside cottage, tangled in the sheets with her. Maybe he imagined himself showing up for dinner too, playing house.

"You won't want me to visit when you discover who I am. Right now, you only know a ghost, but I'm more of a monster than the werewolf." He bit his bottom lip, as if in worry. "We only have an hour left until morning, and then we can go. You can sleep until then. I promise to stay awake. Fenrir won't get to you again."

She nodded, wrapping an arm around middle, unsure of her feelings: a sharp relief, a shot of dread, a deep homesickness. But more than anything, she felt a profound gratefulness. The Death Eater could have done anything, but he treated her gently, tried his best under the circumstances, protected her from Fenrir's jaws, gave her a seaside cottage to shelter in with a house elf to help her.

He thought himself a monster, and maybe he was, but to her he was something else—something she didn't have a name for yet.

Katie twisted toward him. He still leaned back on the palms of his hands, viewing her. She crawled toward him, and the Death Eater froze in surprise.

"What are you doing?" He asked, as if afraid of her. It caused a heady feeling to zip through her.

When she got to him, she grabbed the sides of his face and kissed him, soft but firm. Somehow it was more intimate than sex, more meaningful.

He groaned but tugged away.

"You don't have to do that," he said. "You don't owe me anything. I was going to save you no matter what."

The relief struck through her again, and she leaned forward and kissed him again, dragging her tongue on his full bottom lip. She might be experiencing Stockholm syndrome, but she'd analyze it later.

He ripped away from her again.

"Stop." He grabbed her face, giving a little shake to her cheeks, as if to wake her up, curling his fingers into her hair. "As much as I want it, we can't."

"Why not?"

"Because you don't even know who I am, and you're fucking traumatized. I shouldn't have even touched you earlier, even if you wanted it. Seeing you made me weak, but it was wrong."

Katie shook her head. Maybe it was wrong, but it had felt like defiance at the time, rebelling against everything they were supposed to do. He didn't get to take that away from her—the power she regained by choosing something.

The Death Eater's eyes softened, lingering along the lines of her lips, her nose, her eyebrows, as if memorizing everything about her.

"You need to listen to me." His hands tightened on her face. "You survived today, Katie. Don't you dare feel ashamed of anything that happened. Because of your courage, one day you'll get married to some average bloke, have two or three kids, a wonderful job, and you'll be happy. Do you hear me? You'll be happy again. This will not break you. I need you to understand this before the night ends. You are not broken."

Her whole body shivered, and then she sobbed.

"I don't want to die." Her ultimate fear tumbled out of her. It came out cracked, and the fear and horror she suppressed rushed out of her. He brought her to his chest, brushing a hand down her hair, as she listened to his heartbeat and wept, digging her fingers into his shirt.

"You're safe," he whispered, holding her tight in his powerful arms. "You're safe with me."

She stayed curled against him until the exhaustion overwhelmed her, and she went to sleep.

Katie

When Katie woke up again, she was in a soft bed. A gentle ray of sunshine heated the skin of her arm. She sat up, pulling up a sheet to her chest, only to discover she was wrapped in a black cloak. The Death Eater's. She knew by the pleasant smell.

He'd brought her to the cottage while she'd slept.

She sat there for a while, looking around the room. Most of the furniture was outdated, but it was cozy and smaller than she thought it would be.

Katie slipped out of bed. When she gained enough courage, she exited the room and searched the cottage. It had two rooms, a small kitchen, a single bathroom, and a living space. In the end, it wasn't much bigger than a typical flat. A house elf in the traditional grey sack stood near the stove, cooking a pot of stew.

"Hello," Katie said. The elf jumped in surprise almost spilling the soup.

"Mistress Bell!" The elf exclaimed. "Kipper made you food. My master has told me to take good care of you."

Katie didn't argue with her, sitting at the table and swallowing the food in big gulps. It tasted delicious, and for a moment she luxuriated in the fact she was even alive to enjoy food.

"Oh, Mistress, that's not all. I was told to care for it, but its big and smelly and likes to lick."

That's when she heard it: a soft whining noise, a scratching. Her heart clenched in her chest, recognizing it. She left her stew and ran to the backdoor, where the house opened to the sea. When she opened it, an overgrown chocolate lab bounded in and barreled into her, jumping and licking.

"Sampson!"

Katie hugged the dog to her and cried into his fur for a long time. And then she pulled back, thinking. The Death Eater must have been the one to grab her that day. Or at least, he was there. How else would he get her dog?

"Kipper," Katie asked. "Where is your… master?"

The house elf looked anxious with the question, swaying back and forth.

"Kipper must not say." She walked over to the counter and picked up a rolled-up parchment and brought it to her.

Katie unrolled it and read.

Bell,

The Dark Lord doesn't suspect you're alive. Fenrir does, but that can't be helped. I'm working on ending this. You deserve a life of freedom, even if it means the loss of mine, but it will take all my concentration. I can't visit you, even though I desire nothing more. It would only stir suspicion. I hope the dog brings you comfort and companionship. In these coming months, it might get difficult with no one to talk to, but you must get through it. The end is coming soon. I can feel it. I know you want to know who I am, but I wish to remain a ghost. You won't discover anything in the cottage about me, and please don't interrogate Kipper. I've ordered her silence, and it will only make her anxious. Within the year, I'll be dead or in Azkaban, and if I'm not, I won't bother you again. If the wards come down, leave immediately.

At this point, there was a blotch of ink on the paper, as if he hesitated. Beside the blotch, there was one more sentence.

We'll probably never see each other again, but I'll die happy with the memory of you.