Bella
Nymphadora Lupin lay on the floor, her head lolled to the side as she starred at the foot of the muggle corpse not too far away from where she lay. She didn't move, her brain barely functioning as she could feel her robes being repaired, could hear the footsteps of someone behind her. A small voice screamed deep inside of her mind, but she felt nothing. She used to feel something. Was sure she felt something when this first happened. This was the first time it had happened at all, the first time she had cried under him, the first time she had screamed for him to stop, the first time she lay in a heap on the floor after the event not even bothering to cover her modesty any longer. She didn't realise that she was gasping for air, trying to control herself and failing tremendously. It was as if she was watching herself from across the room as a strong set of arms reached down and pulled her to her feet.
"I hate you," Dora could hear the words as they came out in a rugged choke, "you won't get away with this."
She knew, even then, even that first time when they were left alone in the middle of the raid, when no-one had seen them leave nor would see them come back. She knew he would get away with it, she knew he already had. She was watching her younger self from afar, the witch held tightly in his grasp as her passion-red hair fell down her face, watched her scream in response as he threatened her then-only child. Though she had not been lost in the war, Nymphadora Lupin most certainly lost a part of herself that day on the floor of the muggle dwelling.
She was falling, gripping onto whatever her hands were lain upon, though she could feel her nails digging into the skin of her palms she could not open her eyes. She could not control it, could not stop it. Her eyes snapped open to see the familiar ceiling of the room she had come to know far too well. A hand moved to her stomach, still large though she knew it to be empty. A small whimper came to her side, she closed her eyes for a moment, quietly composing herself before she had the strength to sit up. Her movements were slow, her body still in the residual pain of childbirth but she did not let it stop her from taking the few steps to the basinet by the side of her bed.
Dora stared down at the bundle before her, wrapped in a knitted blanket as small fists raised up and delicate features began to whimper yet again. She reached out slowly, as if she were about to touch some dangerous magical creature. Though as the woman's hand touched the small tuft of red hair the whimpering quietened for a moment, almost as if she were considering if the touch was welcome before the cries of the new-born babe rebounded off of the walls. The older witch didn't hesitate, bending over and taking the child into her arms she pulled her to her chest, bouncing her ever so slightly as she kissed her head.
"Shhh . . ." Dora whispered, breathing a sigh of relief as the cries turned back to whimpers, "it's okay . . . no-one will hurt you . . ."
If she closed her eyes she could almost pretend it was little Teddy Lupin, that if she stood here in her nightdress comforting her child her husband would soon come up behind her and beckon her back to bed telling her to rest. A single tear fell down her cheek, though she ignored its existence as she moved to rest back on her bed with the child cradled in her arms. She adjusted herself without thinking, moving apart her night dress as she allowed the child to feed. It was only as the child was completely preoccupied by its meal that she dared to look back down at her. Her hair was now almost black, one tiny fist clenched around a stray strand of her mother's mousey brown locks.
"Elara . . ." Dora breathed, stroking the child's head with her spare hand, "I— . . . I'm sorry . . ." she felt the tears threatening to spill again, though the emotions in her mind were so mixed and distorted she could not control nor understand it, ". . . you're beautiful . . . I love you . . . I don't know why . . . I shouldn't . . . But it's not your fault. I love you, I love you so much it hurts—just like your brother . . . I'm going to protect you, I'm going to be there to love you and protect you as much as I can no matter what . . . You don't have an easy life ahead of you little girl, but I swear to you— . . . I'll be there for you always . . . Elara Lestrange . . ."
She rested her head back on the pillows, closing her eyes as she let the darkness take over yet again.
"I'll get you out of here, Tonks," the woman beside her spoke quietly into the darkened room.
Dora was unable to help but smile slightly sadly, opening her eyes she looked down at her two-year-old daughter sleeping soundly laid across her chest for a moment before she looked to the red-haired witch who laid with her four-year-old son hugging into her side.
"There's no getting out for me, Ginny . . ." Dora sighed, stroking Elara's dark purple hair.
"Never say never," Ginny whispered firmly, "you're a fighter Tonks, you'll never lose that."
"I think you may be wrong there . . ."
"No," Ginny returned the witches smile before looking down at little Teddy Lupin with his turquoise hair, his arms wrapped around her side in his sleep, "I'm not wrong about that. You won't ever lose your fight, I remember Charlie used to call you a right firecracker. Unstoppable, though clumsy as all hell."
Dora couldn't help but let out a huff of laughter, "He's not wrong about the clumsy part . . . But I couldn't leave, Ginny. Even if I got out of here with Teddy now . . . I'd have to take Elara, I couldn't leave her—though neither could Rodolphus. He wouldn't stop until we were back—and if I left her . . . I couldn't. Who's to say they wouldn't use her against me to get me back just like they tried to use Teddy to control me? I'm a shadow of my former self, Ginny, I couldn't do it anymore . . ."
The red-haired witch looked to her friend, her eyes settling on the child she had mothered whilst trapped in this awful place. Dora expected judgement, expected her to dislike the child as she would have sworn she would have before she had birthed her. Though Ginny Weasley reached out, stroking the small hand of the sleeping toddler as she spoke to her mother.
"You're stronger than you think, Dora," Ginny breathed, "You're the bravest Hufflepuff I've ever known and I know you would do anything for your kids . . . I still look up to you just as much as I did the first time I met you and you were morphing duck beaks at the kitchen table—in fact probably more so now than ever."
Dora let out a huff of laughter despite herself, "I personally preferred the pigs snout . . ." Dora smiled as the girl laughed at her before closing her eyes, "go on . . . sleep Ginny. We'll get you out of here then we'll worry about me when everyone else is safe. Goodnight . . ."
"Goodnight Tonks . . ."
Nymphadora took a deep breath before she opened her eyes again, cradling the small baby in her arms as she sat up against the pillows of her hospital bed.
"Roo . . ." Dora whispered, stroking his dark locks as she cradled him closely.
It was different this time, though it was undeniable that she felt the need to protect her son he almost didn't feel like hers. He had been forced upon her yet again and to bring him into the world she had lost such a large part of herself. She stroked his hair regardless, staring at the door of the hospital room as she waited for Rodolphus to return from his discussions with the healers. She was going through the motions as she fed him, disassociating from the world as she held him in her arms. Dora couldn't tell how much time had passed when Rodolphus finally entered the room again, taking the child from her arms without even thinking to ask.
"Nymphadora," the man hissed, Dora only just realising that it was not the first time he had said her name, "Nymphadora we can leave. Get up."
It was as if she had snapped out of a daydream, though as much as she tried to pull herself to her feet she could barely sit up on the edge of the bed without hissing in pain.
"Honestly," Rodolphus growled, "she can do it."
Dora hadn't even noticed a healer had walked into the room, the man looking almost scared to challenge Rodolphus on what was clearly a lie. She could barely remember how she had managed to leave the hospital, all she could think of was the grip of the father of her two younger children tightly around her waist as she stumbled to stand properly, looking down to her new-born son as he held him in his other arm. Though she remembered entering the ward, remembered seeing her two eldest children as they ran up to her and she held them tightly, forgetting the pain she was in . . .
Rodolphus Lestrange stood staring down at the pale, malnourished form of Nymphadora Lupin. He watched as she let out the occasional whimper or turned ever so slightly in her unconscious state before she settled again for another short while. The small ward in St Mungos was empty, apart from the woman laid in one of the four beds, her mousey brown hair a mess of curls as it had been for some time now.
"Well?" Rodolphus sighed as he heard the door to the room open, not needing to look to know who had entered, "The consensus?"
"Well . . ." Greer walked slowly over to the man, his arms folded as he eventually stopped to stand beside him. Though he did not seem interested in the witch on the bed, instead staring at the old Death Eater before him. "She'll live."
"I know that," Rodolphus said, though he would never admit it was reassuring to hear it confirmed by a healer he trusted.
"So," Greer mused, "why don't you ask her healers? I'm not particularly well versed in psychiatric ailments, Rodolphus."
"I asked you," Rodolphus pulled his eyes from the woman to look at the man.
"You care if she lives," Greer smirked.
"My children care if she lives," Rodolphus corrected him, "I—. . .it would be inconvenient."
"Inconvenient?" Greer raised an eyebrow.
"Just tell me what they said, man," Rodolphus hissed, growing more impatient by the second, "she's not been conscious since she took that bloody potion."
"Auror grade poison," Greer nodded, "she's lucky to be alive. Not many people survive that you know . . . She'll wake up in her own time. They're currently experimenting to try and heal her mind a little, apparently, they have been experimenting with a new type of treatment. It's aided by the use of Swooping Evil venom—you see that has properties to erase bad memories, when diluted properly . . ."
"But?" Rodolphus asked, looking back to the woman.
"What makes you think there's a but?" Greer asked.
"Because there always is . . ."
"True . . ." Greer chuckled, "But . . . you've played with her mind for too long, Rodolphus. You must have known, you of all people, what happens to those who are left to their minds for so long. She's not had a moments rest, she's been used for far too long and her mind has become confused . . . It's sometimes hard to distinguish the good and the bad or ever separate yourself from it again. They're attempting to sift through her memories, to try and assist her. The female healers refused to look into them after the first day." Greer smirked.
"Just tell me what will happen to her," Rodolphus said, his voice void of emotion.
"She'll be better . . ." Greer hummed, "she will never be the young woman she was when she was first taken, though she will be better. Think of it as reversing the clocks ever so slightly, she'll be given potions to reinforce her strength both mentally and physically—some of which she may be on for the rest of her life . . . You can't break her again, Rod. For Merlin's sake if you must have your fun be careful. I know you like having a toy but—"
"I care more for my children," Rodolphus interjected, "I will not have them blame me for the death of their mother."
Greer considered the man for a moment, still staring down at the mother of his children with an expressionless stare, "Well then," Greer eventually sighed, "leave her to rest, she'll wake soon enough. For now she needs to rest."
Rodolphus didn't respond, nor notice when the man left the room. He stood in silence, thoughts of what he would tell his children running through his mind until he eventually left the room nearly an hour later . . .
Nymphadora sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the floor where she had caught herself from falling after being released from Rod's grasp. She could feel his eyes boring into her, seething with hatred, though she didn't pay any mind. Bellatrix was stood by her desk now, talking to her own daughter. Though Dora didn't pay any mind to what they were saying, barely even noticed as they spoke her name, flinching every time she heard the name of the son she had just tried to kill. He had to be safe. They all had to be safe. She couldn't control herself anymore, she had lost herself long ago but she could not allow her children to fall victim to her own insanity as she had herself.
"Nymphadora . . ." Bellatrix sighed, "you really have broken her Roddy . . ."
"Shut up," Rodolphus growled, reaching over to the girl and pulling her to her feet.
She didn't pay attention as she was dragged out of the room, not even realising that Delphini had long left them as she was pulled down the corridors until they suddenly stopped outside what she assumed to be her son's new room. She could feel the tight grip of Rodolphus Lestrange holding her tight, as if he was scared she would run off to harm their son again even as he had his wand stuck into her ribs.
"You won't get away with this, Nymphie . . ." Rodolphus hissed in her ear, "I don't care for your mind, only my children, do you understand?"
Nymphadora didn't answer, taking a deep breath and letting the man hold her as she waited for her son to arrive. She fell back into him, though she was not caught, she kept falling. Her head was spinning until she felt the wooden floor beneath her knees and felt the glass vial grasped firmly in her hand full of the freshly brewed deep dark liquid. Dora didn't think as she got to her feet. She could see her way out, a way to her husband, away from her misery. She sat back onto her bed.
She couldn't help the tears that fell down her pale cheeks, though they weren't for her. Though she knew Elara and Rueben would be fine with her she couldn't help but feel for her eldest son. She had tried, tried so hard, but she knew there was nothing she could do to help him. Nothing but to get out of the way to stop him watching his last parent slowly lose herself to madness. The potion felt thick and hot as it slid down her throat, she could feel it settling within her even as she placed the vial down on the side and let herself fall back into her pillows. The world was already fading, she could feel herself gasping for air on instinct though she tried not to fight it as she fell in and out of consciousness. She didn't hear her bedroom door open mere seconds later.
"You stupid—!" Dora would have screamed if she could, fought like she never had in her life before as she felt herself be pulled onto a familiar lap, though as the world faded in and out she found herself alone on the bed again.
"Leave. Her. Alone!" the voice was distant, Teddy's voice followed by a bang. She tried to fight what was happening to her, though she couldn't breathe, she had to make sure her son was okay.
"Teddy!" It was the next thing that Dora heard her daughter cry.
"Get him out of here!" she couldn't hold on to what was happening anymore.
"Save her!" Rodolphus yelled, the woman beginning to thrash out as the effects of the potion settled in further to her system.
"Bested by a child?" a familiar voice of a healer sounded.
He was safe, Teddy was safe. It would be okay. She could go. An odd sense of calm washed over her, though she could feel her body thrashing and her lungs gasping for their last breath it was as if she was dreaming it. She could almost see her husband again, almost be free, she slipped into the darkness.
"I think she's waking up . . . Mrs Lupin?"
No . . . the darkness was lifting, she felt lighter, it was as if she could feel herself floating towards the surface of consciousness. She clenched her fists, trying to fight it though she felt the cotton sheets bunch beneath her grasp. No . . . Remus . . . Please . . .
Her eyes were filled with tears, blurring her vision when Nymphadora Lupin eventually opened her eyes again.
