A./N.: Hope you like it and it was worth the waiting. At the end of the chapter I have two questions for anyone you wishes to help me out. Enjoy reading and send me lots of reviews.

Memoires of a Victim

Arthur was a wreck. He just couldn't keep the facade of happiness up. It was all too much to bear. Arthur had seen Molly's wounds the night she was rescued and he had seen the black, bottomless pits of emptiness she had fallen into, but now she at least seemed so much improved. The pregnancy, though, was too much to handle for both of them. Molly was having more trouble than in all her previous pregnancies summed up. Even at this early stage she was constantly sick and irritable. Arthur had spoken bravely when they found out but now he was feeling anything but brave. His positive thinking wasn't enough to get Molly through this pregnancy. And his doubts were getting the better of him, making him feel embarrassed, miserable and guilty. Sometimes he lay awake at night and thought how much easier it would be if Molly aborted the child. Then he would feel disgusted by himself and leave the beds, thinking him unworthy of staying in the same room as his wife. He would pace the castle to the point of complete exhaustion.

Today was a particularly nasty one. Molly had woken up and, upon opening her eyes, vomited up what little she had left in her stomach. Arthur at first had not registered the sounds coming from the bed as retching and had resumed his grooming in the bathroom. When he had finally emerged from it, Molly had lain limb on the bed with both hands pressed on her belly and groaning piteously. He could have slapped himself for not checking on her before. Molly had pushed him rudely away as he knelt down beside the bed and gathered her in his arms.

Now they were down in the Great Hall and ate breakfast with their children. Ron chatted stiffly with his mother over Ginny's head. Ginny had been almost inseparable from her mother since her dramatic return. Right now she was snuggled close into her mother's side and let Molly stroke her hair. Oddly enough she was not at all ashamed that the whole school could see her in such close proximity to her mother. Most teenagers would ball at the very thought.

Harry sat opposite Mr. And Mrs. Weasley and next to Hermione. He was quietly talking to her so that the assembled Weasley family couldn't hear them. They were both deeply worried over McGonagall's mental state but unsure how to approach the subject and who best to talk to. Professor McGonagall was out of the picture. She had shown them clearly that she couldn't handle the pressure or exposure. Professor Dumbledore might be more receptive, but only slightly. And Mrs. Weasley would certainly don't take kindly to someone calling her friend a raving lunatic. Hermione proposed to speak to the other teachers but Harry wasn't at all sure if that was really such a good idea.

"Then you come up with something", hissed Hermione aggressively, and for once at the end of her wits. "You just sit there and say 'no' to everything. I at least care for ..."

"I also care for Professor McGonagall", interrupted Harry hotly but quietly. "I just know that she'll freak when she finds out that the whole school knows about the stuff she had to go through. She and Mrs. Weasley pull themselves together for all our sake but it's clear that they fall apart on the inside."

"How do you know?" asked Hermione, being caught off guard by Harry's deep understanding, as she was used to Ron's indifference.

Harry ducked his head and for a moment it seemed as though he would refuse to answer her question. He was not entirely sure how much to tell her. Heck, he hadn't even told Ron about this! But Hermione was one of his two best friends and he felt as though he owed her an explanation. He took a deep, shuddering breath.

"I always keep thinking that I sort of felt the same way after what happened in the cemetery with Voldemort and Cedric. It was horrible and I still have nightmares. I keep asking myself if I could have stopped it. What if it had been me alone who touched the Cup? What if Cedric alone had touched it? Would Voldemort be back then? What if I or Cedric had been faster and deflected Wormtail's killing curse? What if ...? What if ...? You could what if yourself to death. I guess something like that is going on in their minds right now", Harry explained at last, and then added even more quietly, "I want to help them both. They are like mothers to me."

Hermione took his hand under the cover of the table top and Harry saw tears brimming in her eyes as she looked into his.

"Then let's talk with Professor Dumbledore as soon as breakfast ends", she said, squeezing his hand.

Up at the teacher's table Minerva was trying to concentrate on her cereal. It was a dark day for her and she felt like emitting dark vibes, telling everybody to stay away from her and don't even think about talking to her. Pomona, sitting next to her, edged closer to Rolanda and farther away from Minerva. Albus on her other side was still angry with her for their fight last night. She had slammed the door into his face and sent him to sleep on the couch again.

Albus' knee bumped gently against hers and he smiled at her in an effort to ease the tension between them. Minerva nodded curtly in acknowledgement of his effort but didn't smile back. Usually it took all her willpower to keep from smiling lovingly back at him or bat her eyelashes flirtatiously and thus give their marriage away. But today she was more than anxious to be somewhere far away from her husband, the farther away the better. For some bizarre reason she couldn't get Tom out of her mind. She seemed obsessed with the need to see him, talk to him, ask him why and see him punished.

Suddenly Minerva stiffened and jerked away from the table, standing up straight. She snatched up her napkin and pressed it to her face, hot blood bursting through her face and body. Minerva breathed deeply, trying not to pant frantically.

She hadn't thought of Tom deliberately since her talk with Molly but he was constantly on her mind. Subconsciously he was always with her. She felt as though he was looking over her shoulder where ever she went and she could feel his presence every time she was with Albus. But whenever she felt the memory of her captivity approaching her, she closed her mind. Well, she closed it as well as she could. Tom had stripped her off all her mental barriers.

Yet suddenly, the memory of Tom had touched her, as suddenly as a hand coming out of the crowd to seize her arm. Seize her arm, lift her skirts and penetrate her in a way much more shockingly intrusive than the actual experience had been.

The air around her was suffused with the scent of lilies, and she heard the tearing of her clothes as Tom's hands tore them apart, and heard his sigh of pleasure. The room was dark, lit by one candle; it flickered at the edge of her vision, then was blotted out by the man between her ...

"Christ, Minerva! Are you all right?"

Minerva hadn't actually fallen down, thank God. She had reeled back against the wall behind the head table, and Albus, seeing her go, had leapt up and forward to catch hold of her.

"Let go", Minerva said, breathless, but imperative. "Let go of me!"

Albus heard the note of terror in her voice and slackened his grip, but couldn't bring himself to let go altogether, lest she fall. With the energy of sheer panic, Minerva pulled herself upright, out of his grasp.

She still smelled lilies. Then she came to herself and realized that she was standing next to a huge vase with fresh lilies, courtesy of a concerned Pomona, standing next to her seat at the table.

Knowing that the lilies were real was comforting, but she felt as though she stood still on the edge of a vast abyss, alone, separate from every other soul in the universe. Albus was close enough to touch and yet it was as though he stood an immeasurable distance away.

Then he touched her and spoke her name, insistently, and just as suddenly as it had opened, the gap between them closed. She nearly fell into his arms.

"What is it, Tabby?" he whispered, holding her against his chest, not caring that the whole of Hogwarts saw them. "What has frightened you?" His own heart was thumping under her ear; she'd scared him, too.

"Nothing", Minerva said, and an overwhelming wave of relief went over her, at the realization that she was safely in the present. Tom had gone back into the shadows, for now. The staggering sense of violation, of loss and grief and isolation, had receded, no more than a shadow on her mind but not entirely gone. Best of all, Albus was there, solid and physical and smelling of lemon drops ... and there. She hadn't lost him.

The other teachers were clustering round, curious, solicitous. Poppy checked her pulse with a hand around her wrist. Pomona fanned her earnestly with a conjured fan and the breeze of it felt soothing. Minerva was drenched with sweat, wisps of hair clinging damply to her neck.

"Quite all right", she murmured, suddenly self-conscious. "Just a bit faint ..."

A chorus of offers to fetch her water, a cool cloth for her forehead, a chaise to lay on, were all trumped by Albus' production of a flask of whiskey out of thin air. Minerva felt a qualm as the scent of it reached her, remembering the night she had got drunk before sleeping with her husband after being rescued from Tom.

And suddenly the memories returned all at once. The Great Hall before her eyes began to blur and she was back in the old Mansion of the Riddles. Tom had hold of her arm and his nails dug into her flesh. His other hand cut off her windpipe and she couldn't get air to breathe. His knee pressed between her legs and painfully up against her vagina. He laughed at her pain and struggle to breathe.

In reality Minerva's eyes bugged out and her hands went up to her throat. She was struggling against Albus' grasp, trying to scream but only making wheezing noises.

Tom released his grip on her throat. He used this hand to cup her breast, squeezing hard. Minerva gasped for air only to empty her lungs screaming when Tom pinched her nipple painfully and twisting it viciously. He laughed at her and twisted more. Minerva screamed in a high-pitched voice.

Minerva screamed at the top of her lungs. Her scream raised the hairs on the necks of every student and teacher in the Great Hall. She sounded like a Banshee.

Albus tried in vain to calm his wife down but her eyes were vacant again and she didn't seem to see the reality in front of her eyes but memories of the past.

"Mina, darling, please come to your senses. You're in Hogwarts, you're safe", he tried to appeal to her.

But Minerva was too far gone in her hysteria. She didn't see him. Again Albus tried to grasp her arm and bring her back to reality through his physical nearness. Minerva turned on him and fought him with all her strength. He wrapped his arms around her waist but she twisted out of his grasp, he grabbed her wrist but she bent down and bit him hard, drawing blood. Albus could only think of one other option. He had to enter her mind and make her see through the illusion Tom's torture had created. Slowly he opened his own mind and gently sank into hers. He didn't get far. Minerva sensed his invasion and blocked him with a vehemence that through him off guard. She catapulted him out of her mind, literally for he was mentally as well as physically thrown backwards against the table.

Pomona gasped in horror. She had never seen her friend like that. Minerva had been one of the strongest women she had ever known. Right now, though, she was scared for life and lost in her own world of pain, degradation and torture. Perhaps she just needed the touch of another woman to calm her down. Pomona extended her arm slowly, ready to withdraw it by the first sign of hostility from Minerva's side.

Minerva turned on her the moment Pomona's hand made contact with her arm. A burst of magic broke free and burnt Pomona's hand. When she yanked it back, everyone could see blisters raising where she had touched Minerva.

Poppy ran over to her friend, yelling over her shoulder at Albus.

"Get her out of here!"

Albus starred at her for a moment then his gaze wandered to Pomona's pale face and he knew that Minerva could have easily killed her. She would as a matter of fact kill whoever wanted to approach her. But before Albus could move, he was pushed to the side.

Molly almost ran past Albus and the other teachers. Without hesitating for a second she went straight to Minerva and hugged her tight. Her right arm snaked around her waist and drew her close. Meanwhile the left hand tangled in Minerva's hair and pulled her head to her comforting shoulder. Molly stroked Minerva's hair over and over, murmuring reassurances softly in her ear.

Umbridge was stunned. Minerva McGonagall had always met her with self-control and poise. She began to sneer in a horrible manner. Snape diverted his attention from Minerva to Umbridge and saw that sneer spread across her features. He was more than afraid that Minerva could do something as stupid as jinxing her. Before he could warn Umbridge to stay out of it and leave the two women alone, Umbridge raced forward with a triumphant expression on her face and drew herself up to her fullest height in front of Minerva and Molly.

"Now I have grounds to fire you. The strong, in control Professor McGonagall is a basket case. You're a danger for the students of this school!!" she exclaimed in triumph, laughing in her face.

Minerva stiffened in Molly's arms and twisted out of them. Then she threw herself at Umbridge with an inarticulate scream of fury, seeing instead Bellatrix Lestrange's face, taunting her and leering at Molly. She clasped her hands around Umbridge neck and threw her off guard.

Umbridge stumbled back and hit the wall, more forcefully because she was pushed by Minerva. Her head met the wall with a sickening crunch and she slid to the floor, unconscious and paralyzed.

Poppy gasped in horror and rushed forward, trying to pry Minerva away from the fallen Ministry witch. Minerva shoved her away with surprising strength in such a frail looking woman.

Molly's hands covered her mouth, holding back the scream lodged in her throat. Upon seeing Minerva struggling with Poppy, she rushed forward. Her hands clasped Minerva's shoulders and yanked her off Umbridge.

"Minerva, I'm alright. I'm here, please come with me, Minerva!"

Suddenly Minerva's eyes came back into focus and she starred at her hands still around Umbridge throat. Immediately her eyes widened to the size of saucers and she scrambled away from her prey, horrified and sick. Then she looked around and saw the shocked faces of the other teachers and the terrified student body. Her breath hitched in her throat and she couldn't breathe anymore. Her shoulders went rigid under Molly's hands and she trembled violently. How could she have forgotten herself like this?

"No! What have I done?!" she whispered hoarsely.

Suddenly she jumped up and ran out of the Great Hall in a blind panic. Molly followed her instantly. Not stopping for even a second to think, Minerva raced for her quarters as fast as her legs could carry her.

Molly was not the only one who followed Minerva. Albus, awakening from his stupor, overtook Molly with his long legs easily. Arthur watched his wife as she hastened out of the Great Hall and sighed irritated. He got up from the bench and followed the trio out. Outside in the Entrance Hall, he witnessed a scene between Albus and Molly.

"I told you that I will take care of MY wife! Go and take care of YOUR own family! For once!" he yelled at Molly.

"What are you implying? I do care for my family! How dare you!" yelled Molly back.

Arthur thought it better to intervene. He walked forward and slid an arm around Molly's waist. But Molly was having none of it. She turned towards him.

"Say something. I do care for you. You know that, don't you?" asked Molly aggressively.

"I'm not sure if I really know that, Molly. You spent more time with Minerva than you do with me or our children", he said after a while.

"Arthur! How can you doubt me? Minerva needs me ..."

"And you think we don't? Then think again!"

"That's not what all this is about, is it? And Minerva needs me more than you. She is ..."

"She is more important to you than we are."

"Don't sulk, for heaven's sake!"

Molly spoke more sharply than she intended and she saw him stiffen. She turned around to follow Minerva's retreating form. Then Arthur yanked her around to face him. He was clearly furious, on the verge of explosion. Molly felt her own wrath rising.

"Sulking!" he said. "Sulking, is it? I'm using all the self-control I've got, to keep from shaking you until your teeth rattle, and you tell me not to sulk!"

"What in the name of God is the matter with you?" she asked angrily. She tried to shake off his grip, but his fingers dug into her upper arms like the teeth of a trap.

"What's the matter with me? I'll tell you what the matter is, since you want to know!" he said through clenched teeth. "I'm tired of having to prove over and over that I love you. I'm tired of having to watch you every minute, for fear of what foolishness you'll try next. And I'm very tired of people rape you! I don't enjoy that one bit!"

"And you think I enjoy it?" Molly yelled. "Are you trying to make out it's my fault?!" At this, he did shake her slightly.

"It is your fault! Did you stay at home where I ordered you to stay, this would never have happened! But no, you won't listen to me, I'm no but your husband, why mind me? You take it into your mind to do as you damn please, and next I know, I find you flat on your back and the worst scum in the land between your legs, on the point of taking you before my eyes!"

They were almost nose to nose by this time, shouting into each other's face. Arthur was flushed with fury and Molly felt the blood rising in her own face.

"Let go of me!" Molly shouted. "Let go, you ..."

Suddenly Molly's resistance slacked and she slumped forward into Arthur's grasp. Her face was ghostly pale, with nose and lips sticking out. Her body began to tremble and her knees shook violently. Her eyes were wide and looked around frantically.

"Arthur ..." she pressed out through white lips in a voice so faint Arthur could barely hear her.

He looked down on her, helpless and afraid that he had hurt his wife. Molly bent forward, clutching her abdomen and groaning in pain. Her hands pressed hard against her lower belly as if she wanted to clutch her insides. Arthur followed her horrified gaze and saw a drop of blood fall and land on the floor between Molly's feet.

"Arthur ..."

It was the last thing she said before falling into a dead faint.

----

Albus had not listened to the ensuing fight at the bottom of the stairs but and kept walking to catch up with his own wife. Minerva was still ahead of him but he was closing the distance. He had a clear advantage because he could actually see where he was going. Minerva stumbled through the corridors, blinded by tears and short of breath.

Near her chambers she crashed into a suite of armour and landed hard on her knees. Albus, right behind her by now, waved his wand to prevent the heavy metal body from crushing his wife.

"Minerva, are you all right?" he asked, taking her arm and helping her to stand.

"No", she said, trying to yank her arm out of Albus' grasp but he tightened his grip.

"Minerva, stop that mindless ..."

"Mindless? What do you mean?" yelled Minerva, interrupting him rudely.

"Stop feeling sorry for yourself and stop hurting yourself and others", was Albus' pitiless answer.

Minerva starred at him incredulously with her eyes bulging out. Fury of the kind she had never experienced before gripped her heart in a vice-like clasp and made her cold.

"Take your hand off of me", she said threateningly. "All this happened because of you! It's your own fault, for ignoring me since this stupid war started! I told you to be more careful. I also told you that I didn't want to go on that mission, but would you listen to me? No! I am only a woman, why should you pay any attention to what I say? Women are only fit to do as they're told, and follow orders, and sit meekly around with their hands folded, waiting for the man to come home and tell them what to do!"

He shook her again, unable to control himself.

"God, woman, I don't know whether to strangle you or throw you on the ground and hammer you senseless, but by Jesus, I want to do something to you."

At this point, Minerva made a determined effort to kick him in the balls. Albus dodged and jammed his own knee between her legs, effectively preventing any further attempts.

"Try that again and I'll slap you till your ears ring", he growled.

"You're a brute and a fool", Minerva panted, struggling to escape his grip on her shoulders. "Do you think I went out and got captured by the death-eaters on purpose?"

"Well, perhaps to get back at me for ignoring you!" Albus yelled back, irrationally and furious beyond common sense. Now he just wanted to hurt her the way she hurt him.

"WHAT!"

"Yes! Perhaps you were trying to make me pay for it by deliberately putting yourself, my wife, in the hands of the man I hate most!"

"Your wife! Your wife! You don't care a thing about me! It only matters to you because you think I belong to you, and you can't stand to have someone take something that belongs to you!"

"You do belong to me", he roared, digging his fingers into her shoulders like spikes. "And you are my wife, whether you like it or not!"

"I don't like it! They don't like it a bit! But that doesn't matter either, does it? As long as I am there to warm your bed, you don't care what I think or how I feel! That's all a wife is to you ... something to stick your cock into when you feel the urge!"

At this, his face went dead white and he began to shake her in earnest. Minerva's head jerked violently and her teeth clacked together, making her bite her tongue painfully.

"Take your filthy hands off me!" she shouted. "Sod off, you ...", Minerva deliberately used the words of Tom, trying to hurt him, "... you old cod!" He did let go and fell back a pace, eyes blazing.

"You foul-tongued bitch! Don't you dare speak to me that way!"

"I'll speak any way I want to! You can't tell me what to do!"

"Seems I can't! You'll do as you wish, no matter who you hurt by it, won't you? You selfish, wilful ..."

"It's your bloody pride that's hurt!" Minerva shouted. "You couldn't save me and you can't stand it, can you? You just sat here in the safest castle of England! If I hadn't given in to him, we'd both be dead now!"

Until she spoke the words, Minerva had had no idea that she had been angry with him for failing to protect her from Tom and his death-eaters. In a more rational mood, the thought would never have entered her mind. It wasn't his fault, she would have said. It was luck that he had rescued her before Tom shattered even the last shards of her soul, she would have said. But now she realized that fair or not, rational or not, she did somehow feel that it was his responsibility to protect her and that he had failed her. Perhaps because he so clearly felt that way.

Albus stood glaring at her, panting with emotion. When he spoke again, his voice was low and ragged with passion.

"Tom wants to kill me and I knew that when I entered his Mansion."

He swallowed hard and went on.

"I didn't care that I could get killed. I didn't care that I endangered Order members to get to you. I would have killed every death-eater to get to you, Minerva." His voice cracked.

"When I found you, broken and torn and empty, I wanted to kill Tom. I wanted to kill him badly." Albus was speaking a little more calmly now, but his eyes were still wild with pain and rage. Minerva was silent. Unsettled by the horror of her encounter with Tom, she had not at all appreciated the desperate courage it had taken for him to come into the Mansion after her.

He turned away suddenly, shoulders slumping.

"You're right", he said quietly. "Yes, you're quite right."

Suddenly his rage was gone from his voice, replaced by a tone Minerva had heard in him once before, when Maerai had disappeared into the Australian outback.

"My pride is hurt."

He leaned his forearms against the cold surface of the stone wall and let his head drop onto them, exhausted. His voice was so low Minerva could barely hear him.

"You're tearing my heart out, Minerva."

Something very similar was happening to her own. But something else in her held her back from going to Albus and comforting him. She turned her back on him and walked away. Right now she felt more connected with Tom than with her husband.

----

Arthur paced the corridor before the Hospital Wing. Poppy had kicked him out, quite literally, because he was in her way, fussing over his wife. Molly lay on the bed, deadly white and tears glistening in her eyes. Her lips moved silently, praying for her baby. It was the last thing he saw from his wife before the door was slammed into his face.

Suddenly he heard a blood-curdling scream from Molly. His hands pressed against the magically locked door in a vain attempt to get to her. He heard sobbing on the other side and slid down in front of the door. He head bumped against the door and he sobbed harder than ever before in his life.

A./N.: 1. What do you think of the Stockholm Syndrome for Minerva? I'm toying with the idea for quiet some time.

2. What about phsychological treatment for both Molly and Minerva?