This is rated 'M' for a reason, people! Just saying~

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. Nor do I own Family Guy. Two totally different things. I own Leigh Ann, though!

July Fifth

Part Two

Quidditch Idols

"Oh my God!" Leigh Ann gasped, her mouth hanging open and her eyes widening, sparkling. She had stopped in place, and everyone turned around to see what she had spotted.

"What?" Hermione asked, squinting as if to see what Leigh Ann had seen. "What is it?"

Suddenly Leigh Ann started speaking in what sounded like rapid French, though parts of it obviously weren't French. Jason tried to keep up with her, but couldn't for the life of him understand what she was saying. Was that Spanish, too?

He looked around, trying to figure out what was wrong with his sister, when his eyes stopped on a tall, dark figure next to a smaller blonde one. "Oh. I know what it is."

"Well tell us, then," Ron said, an annoyed glint in his eyes.

Jason sighed and rubbed his temples, gesturing towards the man who was at the moment speaking to the French Ambassador.

"Who is that?" Ginny asked, squinting her eyes.

Leigh Ann stopped her rambling, looking at Ginny with wide eyes. "Who is that?" she asked incredulously, her hands on her face. "That's only Iñigo Fuente Marrero, the Seeker for the Spanish National Quidditch team!"

Jason leaned over to Ron to whisper, "Leigh Ann's favorite Quidditch player."

"Ah," Ronald replied, sticking his hands in his pockets. "Well, go talk to him, then."

Leigh Ann looked very, very flustered. "I can't just go walking up to Iñigo Fuente Marrero and talk to him! Are you insane?"

"Apparently, according to you I am," he said, rolling his eyes. "This is your field, Leigh Ann, go talk to him!"

She looked like she was arguing with herself inside her head, and she was mumbling to herself. Overall, it wasn't attractive. At all. "I…I guess it is my field, isn't it?"

"What, forget already?" Jason asked, his voice dripping with dryness.

Anna slapped him a little harder than necessary and started primping without a mirror. "Is my hair okay? How about my clothes? Do my socks match?"

Jason, having had enough, put his hands on his sister's back and pushed her forwards. "Get going. You look fine."

"You're my brother, I can't trust you with how I look! I probably have something stuck in my teeth!"

"You look fine, Leigh Ann," Ginny said, nudging her friend. "If you want to talk to the guy so badly, just walk over there!"

"Y-yeah, o-okay."

Leigh Ann

Right. I'll just go over there and talk to Iñigo Fuente Marrero and act like I'm passing the time. Right! Okay, Leigh, calm down, look, the French Ambassador is there, you can act as translator! Thank God!

I took a deep breath and straightened my prim little short-sleeved jacket, wondering why I'd asked if my socks matched because I wasn't wearing any! My black high heels made me three inches taller than I really was. Anyways, my black pencil skirt was perfect, my white blouse was perfect, and my little jacket was perfect, so I had no idea why I was nervous as I walked up to my idol, my idol, Marreo.

"Bonjour!" I called to the small, female French Ambassador. The woman turned back to me and her eyes widened joyously.

"Leigh Ann-eh Neelson! Oh, what a pleesoor!" She opened her arms wide, settling her petite hands on my shoulders, kissing each of my cheeks. "Where have you been, you silly girl? You were soopoosed to be showing me around, oui?" The French Ambassador, Annie Sweetledon, was a small girl of perhaps twenty-two. She had to weigh all of seventy pounds and had to be perhaps five foot tall. She was blonde, with bright blue eyes and a beautiful, trusting face.

"Oui, mademoiselle, je suis désolé." Then, with shaky legs and a fast heart, I turned to look my handsome idol in the face. God, you're beautiful. He had thick, dark, curly hair that touched the tips of his coco-colored ears. His face was strong, with a wide jaw and a squared, dimpled chin. When he smiled, he had dimples in his cheeks and it reached his chocolate-colored eyes. "Hello, I'm—"

"Beautiful," he said in heavily-accented English, bowing low and capturing my hand in his. He kissed the back of my hand. "Allow me to introduce myself. I am Iñigo Fuente Marrero, Seeker for the Spanish National Quidditch Team. I hope I am not being forward by saying that you are beautiful, chica."

I had just died and went to heaven. "N-no, not at all. M-my name is Leigh Ann Nelson. I'm the m-manager of the pitch and American National Quidditch Team"

He clasped one hand beneath and one over my hand, smiling at me, showing those bright white teeth and those cute little dimples. He then leaned forwards and kissed my left cheek, slowly, and then my right one, taking plenty of time to pull away. "I have heard many great things about you. I must say, Miss Nelson, that your reputation for managing precedes you. Your pitch is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen, second only to both of the women in my company." Iñigo Fuente Marrero is commenting on my pitch! "It is too bad that you are taken, you would be quickly snatched up in my country."

Taken? I thought, staring into his handsome eyes. Oh, I'm taken. And the object that had "taken" me was instantly behind me, one arm wrapped around my waist. "Oh! Viktor!" I exclaimed, turning to look up at his handsome face. At the moment it was dark and stormy, his eyes glaring into those of my idol. Oh, crap. I'm screwed.

"Yes, Iñigo," Viktor said in a low, menacing voice. "She ees takeen."

Iñigo smiled that white smile and shrugged, as if it were no big deal. "As I said, it is too bad. I do not wish to step on any toes, Viktor."

Viktor tightened his arm, not taking his eyes off of the Spanish Seeker. "Eet seems that you are alvays doing that, yes?" I realized that they were both about the same height and size, with the same eyes, (though Viktor's were prettier,) and yet they both acted completely different. I wondered if, when Viktor's hair grew out, if it was as curly as Iñigo's. It would be nice to find out.

Iñigo frowned, making his face turn almost frightening. "Now, Viktor, there is no need to talk of such things in front of your lady friend."

"My lady friend can roon circles around you on the Quidditch pitch," Viktor said with a self-satisfied smile, giving my waist a little squeeze. "She has every right to leesten to our coonvoorsatioon."

Iñigo turned to me with another bright smile, which I was beginning to think was saved only for women. "Ah, beautiful and talented, I see."

I felt myself blushing, and I wrapped my arms around Viktor's waist. It was starting to be uncomfortable, and I was almost ready to leave, until the French Ambassador suddenly gasped. "Leigh Ann-eh Nelsoon, why did you not tell me zat you were wiz ze Viktor Krum!"

Oh, shit. "Ah, well, you see..."

"I am so happy for you, Leigh Ann-eh! Eet ees wonderful, having someone as handsome as he is!" I blushed down to my toes, and Viktor was blushing, too. I was worried, once I'd figured out that they'd sent the female Ambassador, that she'd be after Viktor, as she was "such a big fan." But Iñigo seemed to be fixing her love towards Viktor and turning it onto himself.

"Viktor, this is the French Ambassador, Annie Sweetledon. As I've told you already today, she's a big fan of yours." They exchanged pleasantries and handshakes, Viktor's hold on me never wavering.

"Leigh Ann," Iñigo said suddenly, "are you not a referee?"

Dread instantly filled me, as only a few select people knew that I was refereeing. "Yes, but how—?"

"I have friends in high places," he said simply, smiling with lowered eyelids. "I would hope that your relationship with any of the players would not mar your judgment."

I sighed and put my hand on Viktor's chest. "Viktor, I'm sorry, but if you made a single foul, or even moved towards one, I'd be on you like peanut butter on jelly."

Annie looked confused. "I'm soory?"

"Its a saying, Miss. Meaning that if he made a single foul, I wouldn't let him get away with it. This is my pitch, and no one is going to foul on my watch." All three of the people in my audience were silent after that, thinking to themselves, nodding.

"Leahn, ve moost go," Viktor said into my ear, squeezing my side once more.

I nodded and smiled to both Iñigo and Annie, bowing low to both of them. "If you would excuse us, I will see you all at the start of the game." Annie kissed both of my cheeks, while Iñigo pulled my hand to his lips, kissing it with his soft lips. He then kissed each of my cheeks quickly, making me blush. Viktor, it was just a goodbye... I couldn't help smiling, and I made myself quickly back away into the safe arms of my boyfriend. Ha, boyfriend. It still sounds funny, even when I'm just thinking it.

"I will see you again, Leigh Ann Nelson," Iñigo said softly, giving me a wink. My face flamed up and I quickly turned away from them both, letting Viktor lead me away. It was nice to have his arm around my shoulders, but I was still worried about what people would think when they saw us together. I tried not to worry as I leaned into his warm embrace, wondering if he thought about our relationship and the consequences that could happen like I did. He didn't seem to think anything at the moment, though, as he was rushing us away, into the bowels of my stadium. He took a turn and gently pushed me into what I knew was his room.

It looked a lot like I remembered it to be back on the Durmstrang ship, dark, mahogany wood with a four-postered bed and lots and lots of furs. The bed looked so inviting, but I knew that it would look wrong if I just ran over there and jumped on it like a child, so instead I sunk down in front of the fire, (despite it being the hottest day in July,) into the cushions of a very large plush chair.

He didn't move from the doorway.

"Viktor," I said in a tired voice, pulling off my jacket, "come sit down. I know you have to be tired."

He just grunted, moving to stand behind me, settling his hands on my shoulders. When he started to massage my shoulders, I let myself relax, letting out a well-deserved groan as his large hands worked out the kinks of my back. He leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on my shoulder, then my neck, then my jaw.

"Mmm...keep doing that," I sighed, loving the feel of his stubble against my cheek. He gently drug his teeth down my neck, making me shiver in the feelings he gave me. "And if you do keep doing that, I'm going to want to kiss you."

His hands suddenly stopped, and as quick as lightening he was in front of me, his eyes full of fire as he put both hands on the armrests on either side of me. He didn't say anything as he leaned forwards, gently brushing his lips over my cheeks, down my neck and up again, and slowly taking my mouth in his. I absolutely loved the feel of his lips against mine, the way he was gentle but rough at the same time. When he'd kissed me yesterday, lying down in the grass, I'd never wanted it to end. I'd wanted him to touch me in places I'd never thought about being touched. I'd felt wanton and free, and ready for whatever he dished out.

And I felt that way now, too, as I grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him closer. He smirked against our kiss and put his hands on either one of my hips, swiftly picking me up. I let out a small squeal, laughing as I clamped my legs down around his waist and my arms around his neck, trying not to fall. I was actually surprised that he could pick me up, and he didn't even look like he was struggling.

He kissed me again, parting our lips to each other like he had done last night, and he ran his hands up my thighs, pushing my skirt even higher up. I didn't know why he was suddenly all lust-filled and touchy-feely, but I was actually okay with it right now. For one of the first times in my life, I could let go, relax, and have fun. And kissing Viktor was very, very fun.

He suddenly pulled away, using his nose to turn my head to the side, gently kissing the underneath side of my jaw. Now he was sitting on the edge of his bed, showing a lot of attention to my neck. I moaned at the sensations that were flowing through me, gently grinding my hips against his to rid myself of the ache, but it only sent my hormones raging. I found it strange that he took a deep breath against my neck, but I guess that I was distracted by the hands against my body. "You smell like heem," he said softly, menacingly, as he tightened his arms around me.

I froze underneath his hold. After the shock of what he said wore off, I tried to untangle my legs from his waist, but he would have none of it. "Viktor, I was just—"

"He ees vone of my greatest rivals," he said, gently biting the side of my neck. I had to bite my lip to keep from letting out a moan. "And vhen I saw you, toolking to him, letting him touch you, letting him kees you..." Viktor's hands gently ran up my legs until my skirt was bunched around my waist. I blushed, as he could see the white lace underwear that I wore on special occasions, and I was a little uncomfortable with it.

"Viktor, please understand, cheek kissing is a common form of greeting in Spain and France. Annie kissed me too!" He seemed to calm down upon hearing that tidbit of information, but he was still pretty steamed about all of this. I'd forgotten that the two people whom Viktor despised the most were the Irish Seeker and Iñigo, the Spanish Seeker. "I'm sorry, sweetheart," I said softly, bringing his face up to mine and gently kissing him. I pulled away and looked into his beautiful eyes, which were full of anger and what I presumed was lust. "I forgot that you were enemies with him. I really did. He's been my idol for a long time, and I needed to talk to the Ambassador, who was right next to him. Forgive me?"

This was not an, 'I'm going to get angry with you because you're being over-protective,' conversation. This was an, 'I'm sorry, dearest, I didn't mean to.' I knew the difference. He looked angry enough to go out and murder someone.

He leaned forwards and kissed me for a few more moments, until I forgot about the conversation all-together, until I was nothing but mush in his hands. I felt those hands running up and down my waist, his thumbs moving up under my shirt. I knew that my brain was giving me warning signs, but my body was telling me to tighten my hold on his neck and push him forwards, onto the bed. Another one was telling me to unwrap my legs, to set them on either side of his hips, which I managed to do with some difficulty.

Viktor smirked and somehow he unbuttoned the last button on my shirt. Warning, warning! my brain kept shouting, but I couldn't listen to it. I was too caught up in his intoxicating smell, in his stubble against my cheeks and on my neck. His hands wandered up along the outside of my shirt, his thumbs directly under my breasts. I didn't bother noticing or giving a warning on that because I didn't think he'd do anything. Well, at least until his thumbs gently brushed over the tops of my breasts, making me pull back and gasp for air.

Red lights were going off in my head, and he looked at me with a slight amount of fear in his wonderful eyes. "I...I am going too fast," he said softly, leaning his head down onto my shoulder. "I am soorry."

This is a normal part of the relationship, I thought, trying to remember everything that Alex had told me. This is second base, right? Second base, it happens in all relationships... I was still a little weirded-out. I mean, why would a guy want to touch a girl's breasts? They were what held milk sacks for babies and made of fat!

I smiled a little shakily, picking his head up to gently kiss his lips. Then I grabbed his hand and gently placed it on top of my left breast. He pulled away in confusion, but I quickly put my lips back on his before I could let my embarrassment take control and let it rule. His lips made me forget, his kiss intoxicated me. His thumb gently brushed over the tip of my breast again, and it sent a wondrous feeling of pleasure throughout me. Oh...maybe this is why. Ohhh...

He molded my breast with his large hand, even though he really couldn't hold all of it. It was a pleasant feeling, his hand there, and it made me want to do something more, but I knew that I couldn't. He thought he could, though, and he started to work my shirt up my waist with his other hand. My entire face was flushed when I pulled away and couldn't meet his eyes. I brought my left hand back and showed him my promise ring one more time, taking a deep breath and trying to calm myself. "I-I'm sorry, Viktor, we've g-got to take this one step at a time."

Viktor had to take a lot of deep breaths, putting his head in my neck. His hand had left my breast and both were now sitting on my waist, a safe distance from both my hips and my breasts. It took him a second before he could answer. "I am soory, loff. I loose coontrool vhen I am around you."

"Its alright, sweetheart, its alright," I cooed, gently running my hands over his shoulders, his arms. "This is new for me, we just need to go slow." His body sure didn't want to go slow, though. I could feel his erection plain as day against my underwear. I knew that I couldn't just leave him like this, but I really couldn't do anything about it, either. So I just kissed him again.

That was the time that three loud BANG's came from the thick wooden door, and a voice shouted something in Bulgarian. Viktor flushed a dark maroon, his face turning sour. He shouted something back angrily. Then again, all of it sounded angry to me, so I really couldn't say anything.

"What is it?" I asked softly, dragging my fingers down his chest as soon as the two got done arguing.

The flush was starting to go away, now. "Eet ees time for the varm-oops."

"What?" I gasped, looking down at my watch. "Oh my God, its already three o'clock!" I quickly scrambled up from his lap, blushing as I pulled my tight skirt back down around my thighs. I hurried and threw back on my jacket and my shoes, looking into a mirror to see if I was presentable or not. I really wasn't. I was flushed, my eyes were wide and sparkling, and my lips were puffy and slightly bruised. "Damn!" I muttered a few spells to help clear away the redness and return my lips to their normal state. I couldn't do anything about my eyes, but everything else was presentable.

Viktor, on the other hand, looked perfectly fine, besides a merry glint in his eyes as well. He grabbed me around the waist again and kissed me one last time before I tried to leave. "Slov," he said softly, sighing. "Slov."

"Slow," I agreed, leaning up to gently kiss his lips and savor him just a little while longer. Very, very slow.

The Game

—Hello, everyone, and welcome to the first game in the preseason between America and Bulgaria! This is your announcer for the evening, the United States Wizarding Olympic Committee chairwoman Alicia Noble, ready to serve your every Quidditch whim! And with me today, I have two-time winner of the World Cup and Attorney General of the Department of Wizarding Justice, Rene Nelson, or as most of you know her, Rene Reynolds! This is bound to be one hell of a match, Rene.

—I have to agree, Alicia. Not only do we have the runner-up of the 1994 Quidditch World Cup here, but we've also got the finalist of the Northern Hemispheric Cup! If America had just won one more match, we would have been up there with Spain, Bulgaria, and Ireland. We've fought Spain and won three out of four times, but our Seekers are never up to snuff with Bulgaria, and with Ireland its always half-and-half. Sometimes I just want to be out there, going head-to-head against those young Irish rogues! I remember a time when America never lost to them.

—That would be when you were on the team. But you've got to hand it over some time, Rene! Speaking of, isn't your daughter a referee tonight?

—You're correct in that assumption, Alicia. She's out there right now, circling the field, making sure that all of the wards are in place. She's recently gotten her Referee License, and let me tell you, it isn't easy to get.

—Our three other referees are Sam Smirthwick from the United States Wizarding Olympic Committee, and Anton Anzhelo and Radomir Momchil from the Bulgarian Quidditch Department. Sam will be releasing the balls.

—It looks to be a full house today, Alicia. Americans can't wait to see the new American team with their new manager take down a team they haven't been able to beat in over a decade! I have a feeling that today will be that day!

—Its now time for the game to start! And, flying out for the Americans, we have Chasers Gianni Fedele, Debbie Muntz, and Robert Green, three of the best Chasers I've seen since Rene's time on the team! Next out is Beater Greg Ruczinski, and I'm sure Russia is dreading ever letting this guy go. Then is Troy Duvall, lady's man and Beater. Here comes Keeper Ralph Heidelberger, ready to stop Bulgaria dead in its tracks! Runner-up Seeker Ariel Singleton is coming out of the bowls of the stadium now. And last but not least, Amercia, stand up and cheer for you very own Seeker, Maximus Brankovitch the Third, who's caught every snitch in every game but with Bulgaria!

—As if he needs to be reminded of that, Alicia.

—It doesn't hurt to rub the salt in the wound when needed, Rene.

—Right. And now, on Bulgaria's side we've got Chasers Clara Ivanova, Vasily Dimitrov, and Alexei Levski, the rascal. Here comes Ivan Volkov, one of the best Beaters I've seen since Ludovic Bagman for the Wimbourne Wasps, and Pyotr Vulchanov, a replacement for last year's Beater who let a Bludger get through to Viktor Krum, thus breaking his nose. Here comes Keeper Lev Zograf, and finally, the moment I know almost every person in this stadium has been waiting for, here's Viktor Krum, Seeker for the Bulgarian National Quidditch Team! Look at him fly!

—I've never heard the crowd so loud out there, Rene!

—And now I think we're ready! Will everyone please rise and take off their hats for the singing of the National Anthem?

Leigh Ann

I stepped up to the center circle of the pitch, giving my wand a flick and saying Sonorus! All eyes were on me, and everyone was quiet now that Viktor had been shown and all of the players were on the ground. The stadium was filled to the brim, people were practically overflowing. It made me smile as I watched the vendors working their ways across the stands, selling what I called "Uncle Sam" hats and sparklers and mini figurines of people and posters and everything! I knew that I was missing being in the stands, but there was no greater feeling than being on the field.

I took a deep breath, opened my mouth, and...

"Oh say can you see, by the dawns early light? What so proudly we hailed, at the twilight's last gleaming. Who's broad stripes and bright stars, through the perilous fight, o'er the ramparts we watched, were so gallantly streaming..." My voice wasn't perfect, like, say, my sister's. But it was pleasant. Low and husky, and I could say that I had perfect pitch. "And the rockets' red glare! The bombs bursting in air! Gave proof through the night that our flag was still there. Oh say does that star spangled banner yet wave? O'er the land of the free! And the home of the brave!"

I met Viktor's eyes as I mounted my broom again, as the crowd went wild, and his face was confused, his jaw not together. Better close your mouth, sweets, or you'll catch a fly.

He mouthed something to me that looked like, "You never told me you could sing."

I simply mouthed back, "You never asked."

The Game

I looked through the crowd, watching the other referees and the players, making sure that all would be fair. The game was going good so far, 30 to 20, America in the lead. Both Viktor and Maximus were equally matched, although Maximus looked much to tense. Viktor was like a hawk, while Maximus acted like the prey instead of the hunter. So far there'd only been one foul, and it'd been against Pyotr Vulchanov. It was Flacking, defending the goals from behind. It'd been an accident, but there you go. That's when we'd gotten ahead.

Viktor and Maximus continually tried to feint finding the Snitch, as to catch it, but neither of them would find it for a long time. I'd seen it twice so far—once when it'd been released, and the other time when it had been right between my eyes and Viktor had flown directly at me.

I concentrated on the Bulgarians. They came very, very close to fouling, but never actually fouled. I bet myself a million dollars that Pyotr would get in a lot of trouble after the game was over. And then I saw another foul, and I blew my whistle, crying, "Blatching, Robert Green to Alexei Levski. Penalty shot, Bulgaria." You could bet that many, many people were upset with me for this. But Robert had been flying towards Alexei with intent to collide. In other words, Blatching.

Shortly afterwards, that was when I felt a little tingle, and my necklace felt hot against my skin. I ignored it, until my broom made a slight jerk beneath me.

That's strange, there's no wind tonight, I thought, trying to ignore my racing heart. It was difficult being panicked and trying to keep up with fourteen players flying at over 70 miles an hour. ONE OF MY BIGGEST FEARS WAS OBVIOUSLY FALLING FROM MY BROOMSTICK. So when my brook jerked underneath me again, I gave a little cry of fright. Unfortunately, Sonorus was on the referees, and it echoed around. All eyes turned to me. The broom took another tug, and it was three times as strong. Alicia cried, "And there appears to be a problem with Nelson's broom!"

My mom called, "Broom-pocking!" This was an obvious tampering of the broom, which was obviously happening.

It started bucking like a wild stallion, and I held on for dear life. Colors swirled before my eyes. "It's jinxed!" I cried, wrapping my legs around it as hard as I could, watching as everything turned upside down. I was suddenly hanging on by one hand. The crowd started screaming, pointing, crying out. Well, you have no idea how I feel!

The other referees were trying to help, and I noticed that Viktor looked torn between the game and making sure I was safe. I tried to keep my eyes open, tried to get back onto the broom, but every time I moved or someone came close, the broom jerked again. "K-keep playing!" I cried out in fear, and all the pandimonium made my head hurt, my fingers were aching, and I couldn't hold on for much longer. "Keep playing, damn it!"

Viktor still seemed as if he couldn't make up his mind.

The broom gave one last jerk, and I fell from my seven-story high-position, only to land on something hard and cold, not soft and wet. I was on the floor of a dark room, and everything was grey. I tried to get up, but it still felt as if I had fallen all that way from my broomstick, and I hurt all over. I looked up, trying to find out where I was, when two dark feet came into my vision.

"Filth," came a dark, familiar voice. "Nothing but filth."

I was instantly starting to panic. "Wh-who are you? Where am I? Tell me this instant!"

"You, my dear, are in the headquarters of the Pureblood, of the Order. Accio wand." My wand was pulled out from under my sleeve. I made a desperate dash for it, but my ribs and back ached, and I rolled over with a moan. "You are nothing but filth."

"You've said that," I gasped, and the man slowly stepped into the light. I gasped as I saw one of my own teachers, Rear Admiral Lucas Boyle, standing there, his white hair holding little brown, his black eyes holding no mercy. "What are you—?"

"The filth of the world must be cleaned, Leigh Ann. You were perhaps a good student. You never cared, though, not as much as your sister, or as much as the other purebloods in the Navy, or those in the Marines."

I was so confused. I was looking into the face of my teacher, but he was crazed, infuriated. And I had no idea what he was talking about! The Marines may have been mostly pureblood, but they didn't care about studies! And why the hell was he calling me filth? "I'm half pure, Sir, I—"

"Therefore you aren't pure. Henceforth you must be dealt with."

"What—?"

"Silence, filth! I will not have you speaking to me in such a way. Be prepared for the worst last days of your miserable life. You're going to tell me everything you know about the American and English Ministries of Magics, do you understand me?"

"Or what?" I demanded, trying to distract him until I had enough energy to jump over to my wand.

"You will barely be alive by the time I'm done torturing you."

I smirked. "I'd like to see you try." One...two...THREE!

"CRUCIO!"

And NOW the plot thickens!

She felt her arm lifting, felt his influence was over her. "...C..."

His voice became stronger. "Say it, Jessica."

Her arm was shaking, and she took a deep breath to calm herself. It took a moment, but she said it. "...Crucio." The girl on the floor, her sister, gasped and turned over, shuddering in her unconsciousness. It hurt to see it, but it had to be done.

Her mentor grabbed her arm and steadied it, squeezing just hard enough not to break her arm. "Say it like you mean it!" he shouted, creating a heat of magic around them that put a fire into the girl.

"CRUCIO!"

The screams that Leigh Ann made would forever be burned into Jessica Nelson's memory.