I do apologize for the delay and the shortness of this chapter. The hardships of moving house!
Well, I've really done it now. Ron and Harry must be worried sick. They warned me not to go out but I just had to. I needed some alone time; I've bloody well got it now.
He's left me. Once he was outside I heard him cast every charm I know to ensure that I won't escape from the tent, plus a few I didn't recognise. It's not looking good. I've checked for every possible escape route, but found none. I've tried to Disapparate but I couldn't, surely the work of the protective spells.
"Get some sleep," he said, with a wink. I can feel my stomach turning just thinking about it. It's all just so horrible. Who knows what they might do to me? Everything, even being spat in the face and called a Mudblood a hundred times over, I'd gladly take instead of that creepy, suggestive fashion in which he treats me.
I'm incredibly uneasy. I wish I knew what time it was. It cannot be close to dawn yet, it was late in the evening when they captured me. I suppose I've got hours to kill, to fret and fidget and dread what they are going to do with me.
I wish I had my wand. I can do silent spells, I was the best in our year... but without a wand...
I concentrate on one of the lamps sitting on the table. "Nox," I say, loudly and clearly.
Nothing happens. It doesn't even flicker.
"Nox," I repeat, staring hard at the lamp, willing it to go out. After a few minutes I give up. I wouldn't normally, but the situation I'm in, the combination of exhaustion and despair just about drives me to tears. Get some sleep... I wish I could.
There's a noise outside; a whisper, and I feel as though a gentle breeze wafts over me.
What the-
The tent opens and a man steps in. I recognize him from the fight back at Hogwarts, the night Dumbledore died. It's Fenrir Greyback, the werewolf, and he gives me a leer that makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up in fright. I get up from my chair and take a few cautious steps back.
"What do you want?" I ask, but when I open my mouth no sound comes out – he's silenced me.
Greyback bares his teeth in a grin and edges closer. "Come come, dearie, don't be shy... let's see that pretty neck of yours-"
He lunges forward and I topple over, falling down hard on my back with him on top of me. I struggle and thrash in sheer panic. Greyback just grins down at me, pinning my arms to the floor, and I smell his filthy breath; his greasy, straggly hair tickles my face.
"You filthy little mudblood," he breathes, and I wince at the smell. "You're not going anywhere until I've had you – at least you're good for something-"
He reaches down and his long nails scrape over the fabric of my jeans, and I see fit to kick up one of my legs as he sits crouched over me. I hit home and he roars in pain, sitting up and stretching out one huge hand to close around my throat, the other grabbing at his crotch. I try to scramble away but it's no use, his grip is too strong.
BANG. A blow on the side of my head that nearly makes me faint. Everything goes black and lights pop before my eyes. I stop struggling momentarily and he worms his hand down my pants, leaving angry red scratches while doing so.
"What the hell is going on?" I can dimly see a shape in the opening of the tent, which I recognize as the Snatcher who captured me. Greyback stops his fumbling and glances around. The other looks at the scene in front of him, his face twisted in anger.