Chapter Twenty-Four

Everything that finally cracked

"But you can only go so long being angry before you learn to hate" Katja Millay

"Stop, you're hurting her..."

"I'll do anything, stop!"

"Malfoy..."

"Give her back to me!"

"Why did she have to die?!"

"Malfoy please..."

"NO!"

I stood very still and tried not to struggle against Malfoy's hand which was now wrapped tightly around my neck. He was breathing much too heavily and the sweat that had been beading on his brow now ran freely down his face. He had wakened so suddenly I hadn't had time to move away from his bed.

He stared wildly about him and when his eyes came to rest on me it took him several seconds to focus and by then I was turning purple.

He released his vice grip like he had been burned and shoved the bed covers away getting to his feet and half-roaring in frustration. He planted a fist squarely into the wall and then proceeded to lean against the window pane.

I watched him carefully, still gasping for breath and massaging my throat, his bare back was tense and the only thing he was clothed in was a simple pair of black boxer shorts. His skin was translucent and the moon which shone brightly into the room only served to illuminate him further.

I could vaguely recall a time when the mere sight of him like this would have had my heart stuttering but now...now that feeling was buried so deep within me I wasn't sure if I would ever be able to let it resurface again.

"Are you hurt?" He said gruffly not turning to me.

"I...I don't think so", I moved to the mirror opposite the bed, "Oh...maybe a little".

He turned and walked towards me, grabbing my chin in a movement that should have been rough for the speed at which it was performed but was almost a caress. I could see his face register the four purple bruise marks where his finger tips had pressed into my throat.

His eyes deadened slightly and I wondered briefly how much of the boy I had fallen love with in Hogwarts still existed.

He met his gaze and I knew that he was wondering the same thing about me in that moment. Was the girl who had fallen for him still within me or had he destroyed her forever?

He sighed and moved away from me, sitting on his bed with his head in his hands.

It had been like this for months now, Christmas and New Year had passed in a blur, not that you would have noticed in this house. There had been attacks every other day and Malfoy was often gone with everyone else. I didn't ask what he did or where he went but I knew that every time he returned another piece of him had died.

I would watch as he sat in surly silence for hours on end after these missions, new bruises and cuts marking his body and I wondered what he had seen or what he had had to do.

I found it difficult to feel sorry for him and I desperately tried to cling to Dumbledore's words that Malfoy had never had a choice and that he relied on the part of me that still loved him.

But every day, I knew a little piece of that died too.

Sometimes I thought it was coming back; a glance, a brief touch would rekindle something in me and I knew he could feel it too but then it would be gone and we would stare at each other in stony, almost hateful silence.

The strain of being watched constantly was eating away at us and even though all of the Death Eater's now trusted Malfoy and they watched us less; it didn't matter.

Malfoy had been planting false memories in my mind for fear that somebody would rifle through my thoughts on a sudden whim. His Occlumency was powerful enough that he could feel it and either shut his thoughts down accordingly or he could create memories quickly and allow those to be seen. His genius in this was inspiring but it was also terrifying to know that he saw it as nothing but necessity.

The issue with this apparent solution was that I sometimes had trouble discerning what was real and what wasn't. I had memories of him beating me but I also had memories of him wakening suddenly and trying to strangle me such as he had done tonight.

I had memories of sexual encounters including a nasty one where he performed the Imperius curse on me and had me perform sex acts on him and I knew these weren't true but then a memory of me performing oral sex on him in Hogwarts would burst through and I would confuse which memory involved being cursed and which was purposeful.

The result? I was confused most of the time and I was forgetting the times he had been loving and kind to me.

We hadn't spoken candidly for months and everything was hidden in subtext. He had tried once to tell me that he still cared about me; he had tried to caress me and hold me close to him but I didn't know if it was real or not and I had stood frozen to the spot, not allowing any emotion to show on my face and upon my reaction he had angrily left the room slamming the door behind him.

A part of him hated me; I was a reminder of what he had had to do and he hated me for being his weakness.

"Are you alright?" I said coming back to the present.

"I'm fine", he was staring at me closely, scrutinising my face.

I moved over to the bed I slept in that was located in his room where he could watch me. I was with him as long as he wanted me to be and I was reminded often by other Death Eater's that I was here on his mercy.

"Granger", he said and I froze. He hadn't used my name in such a long time and it felt strange as it reverberated around the room.

"Yes".

"Do you remember when I found you in the Astronomy Tower during your melodramatic breakdown over Weasley and you asked me to create a rumour?"

"It feels like another world or another person's life but yes", I said lowly watching his face but I was nearly sure, no I was certain, that right now I was talking to Malfoy as I knew him.

"It's one year ago today".

I inhaled sharply at his words but his eyes were soft.

"Happy anniversary, I guess", he said and now he was smiling and I knew that whatever part of me that had loved him, loved him still.

My face broke into a small smile and even when he walked slowly towards me; gauging my reaction all the time, I didn't feel anything except love.

His lips were just as soft as I remembered as they pressed against my own and when his hands brushed my arms and moved to rest on my waist; rather than push him away I melted into his kiss.

But realities have a tendency to push their way forward and just as he deepened the kiss and his tongue lightly brushed my own, I had a flash of a memory.

I pushed myself away from him and pressed my back against the wall; he watched me sadly because he knew what was wrong; it was all too apparent in my face.

"Which one?"

"The one where you push me onto this bed and just...you just..."

"It's not real", he was pleading with me. "I'm not a rapist; I've never hurt you like that"

"I know", I nodded clutching my heart and willing it to stop pounding so frantically. "I know but they come so thick and fast; it takes my breath away".

"Get some sleep", he said gruffly and I knew he was trying to hide the pain in his voice.

"Your dreams", I said suddenly, "What are they about?"

He didn't look at me and instead climbed into bed, turning on his side and facing away from me and just when I thought he wouldn't reply he said; "They're always about you".

I crawled onto the small bed and wrapped myself into a ball. I didn't want to cry not when I should have been thankful for just being alive him but the tears came anyway and I knew he could hear my heart breaking.

After that night things began to change; not just between us but in the house in general. People watched us less and less and sometimes days went by without any scrutiny at all, as they became more and more preoccupied with what was going on in the outside world. I had been away from Hogwarts now since the previous May and it was now the beginning of February.

Malfoy would have deep and hurried conversations with his mother and often meetings with Voldemort that would go on for hours and hours. Since Dumbledore's death, Malfoy was almost in the inner circle with Voldemort but there was one person who was above him in every respect and that was Snape.

I couldn't hide my disgust when I saw Snape walk through the doors for the first time. I had been standing in the hallway, where I had been told to wait for Malfoy to return when Snape had entered the cavernous foyer.

My face gave me away and for a moment I felt sure he would curse me for my impudence but he merely shook his head and walked into the room in which Malfoy was having his meeting.

Voldemort never asked to see me; I presumed he would look through Malfoy's thoughts to see what he was doing for me but all in all I think I was uninteresting to him. I mean, what was I? Merely a plaything in Malfoy's life.

Malfoy's ability to defend his own kind was waning and as the days passed I felt he was becoming more and more disillusioned with everything. He would leave meetings surlier than when he had entered them, he would refute pretty much every argument thrown his way by his fellow Death Eater's about how what they were doing was for the good of mankind and he had even made one or two worrying remarks about how none of it mattered anymore.

One day he smashed several crystal whisky glasses and a decanter out of sheer frustration but when I attempted to ask him about it he clammed up completely.

Snape began talking to Malfoy regularly; almost every day they would have private meetings. Sometimes with Voldemort but more and more often without and I wondered if Voldemort had asked Snape to bring Malfoy back on side.

I began to worry that they would feel I was the reason for this change in Malfoy; that I was a bad influence in making him sympathise with muggleborns but I felt certain that Malfoy would be able to refute that with ease too.

One day though, Voldemort did ask to see me and I knew then that something was wrong.

The dining room was Voldermort's sanctuary. The long mahogany table probably made his meetings easier and the chair at the head; far more ornate than the rest, only served to increase his powerful authority.

The fire had been lit and the room was stifling when I entered. I was wearing a long silk, dark green dress with silver accessories. I had been dressed in the Slytherin colours because they were Malfoy's favourite. Narcissa had seen to me herself.

The dark concealed most of Voldemort's face but the snake was allowed to circle me slowly as I stood at the other end of the table.

Malfoy was standing with his back to the fire watching Voldemort and refusing to look at me.

"Miss Granger, I presume?"

I nodded.

"Speak up girl".

"Yes".

Malfoy cleared his throat.

"Yes my Lord", I repeated.

"How long have you been staying here?" Voldemort fingered a wand between his long fingers and I realised with a jolt that it was my own.

"Since last May my Lord".

"Are you enjoying your time here?"

I didn't know what to say to that; I felt like he was asking me to complete a survey on a hotel and the absurdity of the question almost struck me as hilarious.

"ANSWER ME!"

Almost.

"I am my Lord, my Master Malfoy has seen to that".

He chuckled, if you could call it that, and then he nodded. "I have seen the work of Draco through his memories but I would rather see it through yours if I may?"

He wasn't asking, he would do it anyway and I had been prepared.

The most recent memories Malfoy had planted came to the fore and I had to relive watching them again and they were just so real.

Beating me mercilessly and using several curses on me until I was literally bleeding from my ears.

The Imperius curse for his own sadistic sexual pleasure and finally tying me up and leaving me locked in the Dungeons downstairs.

I whimpered and I saw Malfoy close his eyes to the sound.

Voldemort chuckled again and pulled himself out of my mind.

"This is impressive, she is your complete submissive Draco well done".

"Thank you my Lord".

"Although, I do feel that you have not entirely broken her spirit".

"My Lord?" Malfoy's voice was firm as he raised his head to look carefully at Voldemort.

"There is a fire in her that has not been quenched yet and we need to devise a way we can remove it completely, I do believe it is time for you to share Draco".

"My Lord, I won her. She was my prize and sharing my prize was not something I was aware I had to do".

"She will still belong to you Draco don't be petulant but perhaps some of my other esteemed followers would like a taste".

"My Lord..."

"I have decided; give her to Fenrir before the week is out".

"Fenrir?" Malfoy stuttered, "My Lord he will ruin her, I don't want a werewolf for a toy they are far too much work".

"Fenrir will not turn her; you have my word but he may do as he pleases otherwise. It is necessary for me to show everyone that in allowing you to possess such a plaything as a muggleborn that I still hold ultimate power".

I couldn't move, Voldemort was doing this to prove that he could. That despite giving in to Malfoy's demands he was still the one in control.

"I can't give her to Fenrir", Malfoy ground out between his teeth moving away from the fire now.

"You will do as I say Draco; you are mind to command as much as she is yours or shall I have her beg to be brought to Fenrir instead?", he pointed my wand at me and shouted the crucio curse and soon I was on the ground, screaming for mercy.

"ALRIGHT" roared Malfoy and the agony ceased. "Fine, thank you my Lord".

He turned and pulled me off the ground, not giving me any time to regain my breath or my balance and instead pushed me out the door before Voldemort could do it again.

He shoved me roughly upstairs, pushing me the whole way.

When we made it to his bedroom he waved his wand and muttered a few words to his patronus before it was gone and he began pacing the room muttering savagely.

"Tell me what to do, always...can't live like this...he wants me to join well fine, let's see what happens...looks like I'm dead anyway...can't believe it has come to this..."

"Malfoy", I panted.

"Had enough...sick of this...sick of this place...sick of being a slave...a marked slave..."

"Malfoy", I half-shouted.

He stopped pacing, "What?" he snarled.

"What was that?"

"I've sent for Snape. I've had enough; I'm going to start fixing this shit. I can't live like this, I'm done". The months of torment and anguish were etched on his face; something was happening and something in Malfoy had finally snapped. Voldemort's instruction had done something the previous months had failed to do; it had awakened a fire I had long since thought dead.

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm not explaining anything yet, we wait for more instructions".

Then he added, "He wanted to help well let's see him get us out of this one".

"You're giving me to Fenrir?"

"That's the last thing I'm going to fucking do, you're mine and I don't share. I'll never be free of this shit!" he roared and smashed the beautifully, hand carved wooden chair against the wall until it was nothing but debris and the wooden splinters littered the room.

I paused for several minutes before speaking again, "When I asked what that was, I meant your patronus".

He stopped pacing and turned to me, "I'm finally taking responsibility for my actions. I've seen the way you've come to hate me for what I've done and who I am but I've finally had enough".

He began pacing again.

"It was an otter".

I looked up but he wasn't looking at me, he was still pacing with his fists clenched and his face a mask of concentration. His voice was harsh and rough and incredibly angry.

"My patronus is an otter...now, thanks for that by the way".

I slumped onto the bed and tried to catch my breath as I realised his patronus was a mirror of my own. All the while the memories Voldemort had pulled forth danced around my head and I found myself unable to tell if they were false or not.

I stared at Malfoy and wondered.

What fresh hell was this?