To free a haunted soul

Mere exhaustion stopped Molly's tears at last. She lay in her husband's arms and just breathed, listening to the strong heartbeat below her ear. Arthur held her and kissed the top of her head softly, murmuring reassurances of love in her ear. God only knew how much he truly loved this woman. Even if it was Malfoy's child she carried, he would love it as though it were his own. For the sake of the woman falling asleep in his arms.

Drawn by an inexplicable power, he put a hand on her stomach, holding her ... their? ... that bastard's? ... child.

This small movement jerked Molly back to awareness. Arthur had always done this when she had been pregnant. He couldn't, for some reason or other, resist to touch her belly when pregnant. She remembered tender evenings while he held her and their child ... suddenly her happy memories were shattered. Lucius' sneering face appeared before her inner eye.

"You're mine!"

She gasped in horror.

"No! Go away! ... Please", she pleaded, clutching Arthur like he was the last straw that kept her from drowning, besieging him to rescue her. And Arthur rose to the occasion manfully.

"Molly, he can't touch you. He never will again. I'll kill him for you if he comes anywhere near you."

----

The next morning Minerva woke up. Her memory of yesterday a blur, struggling to fight its way to the surface and scattering the memories of Tom's torture chamber.

Molly. The only lifeline she could find in the chaos of her mind. She was the only constant in a whirlwind of events. The only one she could trust not to hurt her anymore.

A soft knock from the door jerked Minerva into full alertness.

"Mina, are you already awake?"

Molly's soft, sweet voice reached her ears and a shy smile curled her lips.

"Yes, Molly, I'm in here", she called back just as softly.

Minerva got up and threw a bathrobe over her nightgown clad form. She walked into the living room and found Molly standing beside the already laid out table. She offered Minerva a cup of steaming tea with a shot of milk and two lumps of sugar, just the way Minerva liked it.

"Minerva, it's time that we talk. I can't run away from the memories anymore and you can't either. We need to face them but I don't think our husbands should know the whole truth. Let's face the past together."

Minerva jerked away and tried to run back into her bedroom but Molly's voice stopped her cold.

"Minerva, please, if we want to get better, we just have to. And you're only skin and bones. I'm afraid that you bottle everything up and die on me. I need you."

She knew Molly was right but it was so much easier to run ... I am a bloody Gryffindor. I'm stronger than that.

But truth be told Minerva was as frightened as a little schoolgirl, unable to stop the trembling and the nightmares. Even now she began to shake violently.

"You won't tell Albus?"

Her voice was barely audible and terribly frightened. Molly closed her eyes for a moment and then responded equally quiet.

"Yes, only if you don't tell Arthur anything."

"I promise."

Both women sat down on the couch and stared into the fire. None of them wanted to be the first. But then Minerva gathered all the last shreds of her Gryffindor pride and bravery.

"Please don't interrupt me. I don't think I have the courage to start twice."

Molly nodded and Minerva began. She told Molly the whole story of it. The slow and deliberate whipstrokes, interspersed with kisses. The shocking pain of curses, administered to drag her from the brink of a desperately sought unconsciousness to face further degradations. She told Molly everything, with hesitations, sometimes with tears, much more than Molly could bear to hear, but she heard her out, silently. Suddenly Minerva glanced quickly up at her and then away again.

"I could have stood being hurt, no matter how bad it was. I expected to be ... used and I thought I could stand that too. But I couldn't ... I ... he ..."

Minerva shook soundlessly for a time, then her voice came again, thick, but desperately steady.

"He did not just hurt me, or use me. He made love to me, Molly. He hurt me ... hurt me badly ... while he did it, but it was an act of love to him. And he made me answer him ... damn his soul! He made me rouse to him! I did not want to think of Albus. I couldn't bear to be there, naked and ... like that ... and to remember loving Albus. It was blasphemy. I meant to wipe him from my mind and only to ... exist, so long as I must. But Tom would not allow it."

Wetness shone on her cheeks but she was not crying yet.

"He talked. All during the last time, he talked to me. Partly it was threats and often it was about Albus. Oh, yes. He would ask me ... while he touched me ... he would ask, 'Did dear old professor Dumbledore ever satisfy you like this?' I fought, in my mind ... I tried to keep myself from him, to keep my mind apart from my body, but the pain broke through, again and again, past every barrier I put up. I tried, Molly ... God, I tried so hard ..."

Minerva sank her head in her hands, fingers digging hard into her temples. She spoke abruptly.

"The ... it's all linked for me now. I can't think of Albus, even of kissing him or touching his hand, without feeling the fear and the pain and the sickness come back. I want Albus so badly that my bones shake in my body, but God help me, I am afraid to touch him! And be touched by him!"

Molly was deeply shocked to see the blankness returning to Minerva's eyes. Neither woman noticed the man who stood around the corner in the other room and now left quietly.

----

Albus left his chamber quietly and numbed, leaving the women to their talk. Outside he leaned against the white stone wall, cooling his flushed cheek against the unyielding blocks, ignoring the stares of Severus and Filius.

God help me, Minerva had said. God help me, I'm afraid to touch him. And be touched by him.

Albus straightened and stood tall. He would fight for his wife. Even if he had to fight death itself. Suddenly he felt Arthur's hand on his shoulder.

"Let's talk. Maybe I can help you with your problem. It helped me with mine with Molly."

And with gentle persistence Arthur led him to his own office. On the way to Dumbledore's Office Arthur told his former teacher what had happened between himself and Molly the night before. Albus in return told him the last part of what his wife had told Molly just a moment ago.

"I'm very happy for you and Molly. But it's entirely different. Molly was … perhaps not a mindless rage … but certainly furious at Mr. Malfoy. You needed to reign in her anger before it became self-destructive. Minerva is still in resignation. She has given up and that frightens me more than anything else. I can accept not touching her and I can also accept her fear of men … but … oh, God, I can't lose her."

"I agree."

Both men whirled around, ready to strike the intruder. Two women stood there in front of them. Narcissa Malfoy and Emmeline Vance watched both men with great interest. The staff of Hogwarts and the Order had seen the struggles of the two victims and their families. Emmeline was a dear old friend of Minerva's.

"I went to school with Mina and I know her since childhood. She is a fighter, always was. She was never broken before. Yes, there were traumatic events in her life before but never before had it destroyed like that."

Albus nodded. His own eyes were clouded by the bad memories of losing their children and friends, of war and destruction, and of tear-filled hours at night.

"What do you propose, Emmeline?"

But it was Poppy who answered him.

"You must break through to her fighting spirit. You-Know-Who broke her to dominate over her. You have to break her to fight back."

Albus stared at her blankly. He didn't comprehend what she said. He couldn't possibly be cruel to his wife. Especially not in the current state she was.

"Poppy, I can't …"
"You want her back, right?" Albus nodded emphatically and Poppy continued. "Then you have to."

There was no sympathy in her voice. Just coldness and despair. She couldn't stand to watch her friend die anymore.

"If you don't then one of us will do it. But it should be you. Her HUSBAND! For better and for worse."

"Professor Snape had that idea", supplied Narcissa quietly. "He brewed a potion which gives her hallucinations … no, that wasn't it. Which will enhance our desired effect to make her believe she's still in the old Riddle Mansion."

----

Albus approached his wife's bedroom warily. The door squeaked on its hinges and Albus was alone with Minerva. Alone and afraid and very, very doubtful about what he planned to do. Poppy had given his wife the hallucinating potion and Minerva lay in bed, sleeping peacefully and dreamlessly. With a deep breath of courage, Albus picked up his wand. He pointed it at himself and with a muttered "Changera" he gave himself the cold and terrifying voice of Lord Voldemort.

"All right, you bloody Scottish whore. We are not yet done, Minerva."

Minerva moaned and hunched her shoulders. Albus grasped her by both shoulders and shook her roughly.

"Get up, you slut!"

Albus hated himself but knew that he had to be rough to her to awake her fighting spirit. He grabbed her and dragged her from the bed. Minerva was too light. He hadn't intended to throw her to the ground but that was what happened. Minerva was too weak to stand and slumped to the floor, cowering there.

Albus swallowed hard and fought the urge to kneel down and cradle her frail body. Instead he bent low and caressed her the way he knew Voldemort would. Albus traced the line of her ribs lightly and then pressed hard on the healed but tender scars on her back. He leaned forward and ran his tongue slowly around her ear and whispered:

"Fight me! Fight back, you filthy scut!"

Minerva's muscles tightened and her jaw clenched, but she continued to stare blankly ahead. No choice then. Albus would have to use violence after all. He knew the risks but he also agreed with his friends. Minerva had to fight back and live again. He couldn't sit quietly by and let her die.

He drew his wand again and used the Cruciatus-curse on his wife. She gasped in shock and began to scream, arching her back and writhing with the spasms. The wound on her chest opened a little and blood began to pour from it. The ancient curse had made it difficult for Poppy to heal the wound. Before Albus could falter, he forced himself to run a finger over her chest, scooping up a gout of blood which he rubbed savagely over her lips. There was one phrase that he didn't have to invent, having heard it in Minerva's story of her captivity. Bending low over her, he whispered:

"Now kiss me!"

Minerva groaned and tried to lift herself up but failed utterly. She could only raise her head and shoulders, propping herself up on her elbows. Albus was shocked beyond words for a moment but then he pressed her to the ground again. So personal degradation and humiliation didn't work either. But then he had an idea. What had always set his wife's maternal instincts flaring up?

"You disobeyed me one too many times. I am very disappointed in you. When will you learn to do as you were told, bitch? I think that will teach you a lesson."

Albus conjured up an image of Harry, Ron, Hermione, Neville, the twins and Ginny. Her favourite Gryffindors, her pride and the ones Albus knew she would do anything to spare them harm. Pointing his wand at Ron he made the image keen out in pain. Minerva sobbed silently on the floor and dragged herself to his feet.

"Please, Tom, stop it. Stop hurting them. I'll do anything."

Albus pushed her aside with his foot, although it broke his heart to see his wife begging like that, offering herself for the sake of her cubs. He knew it wouldn't take her long now to muster her strength and fight him for their sakes.

But he did not have her just yet. Albus pointed his wand again and ripped the cloths of the imaginary Hermione, leaving her in underwear and advancing menacingly on her.

He was not at all prepared for it. Minerva hurled herself to her feet with a ferocious cry, flinging herself at Tom/Albus. Albus staggered and fell against the table. The edge of the table had struck him hard across the back and the images of the children vanished. With an inarticulate growl, she came after him, hands outstretched and too far gone in her drug-induced rage to notice the children were gone. She went for his eyes with her nails like a cat would and Albus had a hard time defending himself. Now he didn't want to hurt her anymore. He wanted her rage and welcomed it. Finally his wife screamed her pain and anger and fought back.

She grabbed a stool and hurled it at Albus, who dodged it easily. Luckily Minerva didn't have her wand but she didn't need it. Magic started to gather around her and wind swept through the room. A hurricane began to form around her. The wind destroying the furniture in the room, slung the splinters at Albus. He was occupied evading the broken wood flying at him that he didn't notice the magical lightning that came at him from behind. It hit him and hurled him into the opposite wall. Minerva approached him, still engulfed in her protective whirlwind. She came closer and closer until … suddenly she stopped in her tracks and the whirlwind fell in on itself. Her eyes were clear and directly gazing into his.

"Albus?"

"Yes, love", he said and reached out to her.

Minerva didn't shrink back this time and Albus came forward slowly. He touched his hand to hers and smiled at her.

"Welcome back to Hogwarts, love."

"What about the children?"

"It was a nightmare. They are well and asleep in their dormitories."

Minerva heaved a sigh. Suddenly everything cleared. She could remember vividly what had happened, during both her captivity and her time back in Hogwarts. Hesitantly she looked up at Albus and there were tears in her eyes.

"I'm really back?"

"Yes, you are. Oh Minerva, I missed you so much."

"I missed you, too. I …"

"I know. Now we're together again. It's over, Minerva, it's over."

Minerva's knees turned to water and she sank to the floor. Albus caught her immediately before she could hit the ground. His strong arms wrapped around her and held her tightly to his chest. Minerva's head rested against his chest, breathing in his scent and finally coming home.