NOTE

Warning: Wilma is in a generally bad state, which involves traumatic memories and dark thoughts. However, she is in a safer place by the end of the chapter.

30. Dreamless Sleep

High in the freezing clouds, I screamed. My wand was prickling painfully in my cloak pocket. It was angry, but not at me.

As I flew, what Lucius had said echoed in my mind.

Rookwood was right.

Percy had insisted ever since the battle that Death Eater Augustus Rookwood was responsible for Fred's death. I hated the man enough because of that, and knew he was serving a life sentence in Azkaban. What I hadn't known was that this was the name of the man who raped me. He must have killed Fred, fled from the castle to the forest to join Voldemort, and encountered me on his way.

Had Lucius spoken with Rookwood while he was in Azkaban awaiting trial? I could imagine their conversation; the wicked laughter of wicked men as Rookwood recounted my pain, and made it into his pleasure.

It was all too much to take in, and my thoughts began to fray until I couldn't remember what I'd been thinking of.

I realised that I didn't know where I was going. I had just kicked off into the sky and started flying as fast as I could. I stopped for a moment to reorient myself. I was hovering far over the endless dark fields of England, as the clouds rolled out towards the sea. I was not about to go back to Hogwarts now. If Severus saw me, he would know for sure that something was wrong. I would go to Grimmauld Place, where I could get clean, and calm down. Only trouble was, I didn't know which way London lay.

I felt a prodding from my cloak pocket and drew my wand, which pointed me promptly in the right direction. I could feel its rage sizzling up my arm, and knew it was my own unfelt rage. But I pocketed it quickly. It wasn't safe to feel that now. Not yet.

I realised as I flew towards London that Fred's voice had been silent since I'd entered the Malfoy Manor. "Fred?" I said aloud, calling his presence back to me. "Fred?"

But there was no response. Not even the faintest fog of him at the edges of my mind. He was probably angry at me for ignoring him. "I'm sorry," I choked out, beginning to cry again. But there was still no answer.

I was shivering too much, from shock. I needed to keep myself under control a little longer, or I would lose control of the broom. All of this must have felt like a magnificent betrayal to my wand, but it steadied me nevertheless, giving me enough focus and willpower to keep my vision from blurring with tears.

As I flew, a ball of pale blue light appeared alongside me, and unfurled into Severus's doe, which dashed alongside my broom. His voice was just loud enough over the wind. "Where are you?"

That was all. The doe followed me for a while longer before disappearing. I just sobbed harder, continuing on through the cold sky. I felt my wand take over as I cried my heart out, angry at myself for what I had done. I knew that the pain was Lucius's fault, but I also knew how foolish I had been for walking into his lair.

I felt a sharp stab of disagreement from my wand. The veil was tugged away from my eyes, and I was faced with the horror I had been unwilling to accept.

I had been deceiving myself, and had been for months.

This wasn't my choice. None of it was. Not even being married to Remus. It was all the fault of the ministry, and I was sick with myself for ever trying to believe differently.

As they had done on my way to the Manor, the clouds began to fray slightly as I began to fly over London. They drifted across the dark sky, and soon the full moon appeared. It was a beautiful sight, the bright light showing the depth of the swirling clouds. But it brought so much pain to my heart that I felt my broom drop in elevation, and slow down.

"Come on," I urged, my voice shaking. I had travelled a long way on it, and it was only an old training broom from the school broomshed. It might well give out soon.

But soon I was flying over Islington and I landed shakily on the cobblestones in front of Number Twelve.

There were no muggles. The street was wet and shining from recent cold rain, and a bitter whisper was in the naked black trees of the gated garden across from the house. My legs wobbled as I climbed the steps to the door and went inside.

The house was silent and dark and empty. I walked down the cold front hallway into the parlour. In front of the fireplace I drew my wand, which almost buzzed with anticipation in my hand. This would be the first spell I'd do with it.

"Incendio," I said clearly, drawing a flame in the air. But I had not even reached the peak of the shape when flames shot from the tip of my wand and caught onto the logs in the fireplace. The fire that roared up was powerful and tall from the very start. Its heat made me step back. I feared for a moment that the flames would get out of control–but they didn't.

The wand was throbbing with anger in my hand. It was even more powerful than I'd first thought, and seemed more than anything to want to be my defender. I feared, from the violent success of this first spell, that if I allowed it to, it would become a bad influence on me in this vulnerable moment. I could feel it begging to cast some curse. I was tempted to use it to break every single one of the windows.

"No," I said, firmly.

Though with quite a bit of reluctance, I felt the anger ebb a bit, and waves of self-control rolled through my body, emanating from the wand.

I untied my cloak and laid it on the back of a chair in the corner of the room. The dreamless sleep would still be in the pouch, but I didn't want to go to sleep like this, still unclean.

I stood for what may have been a few minutes, staring at the windows at the lampposts in the garden. I felt the terror of what I had experienced making itself smooth and cold, like a stone, and there was a shield in front of it so that I could not see it in detail. My body felt distant, on the verge of mutiny, no longer under my control.

I wanted someone to be here with me. I was afraid to be alone.

I climbed up the narrow dark stairs to the loo, and stripped out of my clothes. My skin ached to the touch, and in the mirror over the basin I saw all of the bruises. They bloomed grimly across my entire right side, around my hips, and around my neck and wrists. My lower back was still stinging from where he'd scratched me.

My mind had blocked out the details of what had caused all of these injuries, but if I knew one thing it was that I never wanted to wear those clothes again. I didn't care that the button-up had been my favourite. I aimed my wand at the pile of clothes on the floor, and no sooner did I cast "Deletrius," in a trembling voice, than the fabric disintegrated into air.

I made the water as hot as I could bear, and scrubbed my skin harshly, trying desperately to rid myself of his smell, the sensation of his touch. But his scent seemed to have wormed its way into skin forever, and I knew that I would never completely forget how disgusting his flesh had been against mine.

I felt ruined–all over again.

The water carried away my tears. The warmth of the shower made my skin burn after how cold it had been in the clouds, and as my muscles came to life again I began to tremble uncontrollably.

I was shaking as I got out of the shower and dried myself with my willing wand. I was surprised at how well it was working, especially as we were new to each other, and I was struggling so badly.

I realised now that I had no clothes. I hadn't thought it through when I'd made them disappear–but I knew that I would never have put them on again anyway.

I went across the hallway to Sirius's room. I felt a bit awkward about it, but I took one of his old dressing gowns from a drawer in the chiffarobe and slipped it over my shoulders, still unable to stop shaking. I didn't think he would have minded.

I went very slowly down the stairs, afraid that I would fall from how hard my legs were wobbling. I went into the parlour and stood for a minute before the fire, but the shaking wasn't caused by the cold, and wasn't helped by the warmth of the fire.

I just wanted Remus to be here. To hold me.

The Dreamless Sleep was calling to me from my cloak pocket, but I was afraid to take it now. What if it didn't work, and I wound up trapped in a nightmare, unable to wake up? My anxiety moved me into the kitchen, where my wand automatically sent beams of yellow light to the lamps over the table.

My hand entered my frame of vision as I reached to open one of the cabinets. It was shaking so badly that it frightened me. The hand looked very small. Was all of my previous strength only an illusion? Was this, this weakling, the true self that lay underneath?

My fingers pulled weakly at the handle but I managed to open the door, and take out a glass. I carried it to the table and set it down with a hollow sound. My wand helpfully poured a narrow stream of cool water into it.

I pressed my hands into the table as I lowered myself into one of the wooden chairs. I set my wand down and focused on the glass, picking it up with both hands and raising it to my trembling lips. I took a breath and then sipped, forcing myself not to cough.

I managed for a few seconds, and then set it down again. My head was throbbing, and I lowered it into my hands. I heard myself groan with the pain of it. I hated the shaking in my legs–I couldn't stop it.

Help, I thought hopelessly. I need help.

I knew I should give in and take the Dreamless Sleep. But my cloak seemed so very far away.

Suddenly, the sound of swelling flames came from the other room. Every nerve in my body hissed to life as I heard the sound, which was followed by footsteps. My legs propelled me upward, and I stood, gripping my wand. I was terrified and trembling, but I was standing.

There was a quick dark movement in the doorway, and then Severus was there. He wore his black robes and was holding a letter in his hand.

I somehow knew that it was the letter which had come to me from the Ministry.

My stomach turned cold, and sank.

His hair was windswept. I imagined he had waited for me to appear in the Great Hall for dinner, as I'd said I would, then gone out on broomstick to look for me. Finally he had gone to my room and found the letters inside the desk. Any anger I might have felt at this breach of privacy was overwhelmed by the fear I felt, looking at him now. He looked as though he had just seen someone die.

The terrible shaking had returned to my body. The presence of another person forced me to remember things I didn't want to, and I was afraid. Again I saw the cold eyes of Lucius Malfoy, devouring me from across the room. I stumbled backward a little and steadied myself against the china cabinet.

As I watched Severus for signs of danger, I felt a powerful message from my wand.

You have nothing to fear from him.

It didn't stop my shaking, but my heart lowered slightly from where it had lodged in my throat.

Severus held up the letter in his hand, his eyes deathly still. His cold surface seemed to be hiding a molten fury. His voice rang, slow and deep, and made me shiver. "What is this?"

I spoke quietly. "What does it matter to you?"

"Which was it," he said.

"It's not your busin–"

"Tell me it was Weasley."

My inability to respond gave him his answer. His eyes slipped down to my body, taking in my violent trembling, my knuckles white around my wand.

A look I had never seen in his eyes before now entered them. "Wilma…" he said.

I drew in breath too quickly, and realised a moment before it happened that I was going to collapse. I felt a rush of cold in my head as my knees gave out, and I slumped to the floor. I curled myself against the china cabinet, still managing to remain upright as I clutched my wand against my chest.

Severus's mouth was drawn in a terrible line as he came to me. "No–" I said, as I saw his intentions. But it was barely a half-whisper. My body went tense and completely numb as he picked me up and carried me into the parlour. He set me gently on the couch in front of the fire, but it felt as though I'd just been slapped.

My breath came out in gasping sobs, and I wrapped my arms around myself tightly. The terrible shaking had come back again. My hands must have gone limp because my wand had fallen on the floor. I stared at it fixedly, paralysed.

Severus saw it too, for he bent as though to pick it up. But my voice burst out of me in protest. "Don't touch it! It's mine."

He stood up again, and looked at me with all of the surprise I felt at my own tone.

"It is," he said. "I apologise."

I bent over, eased myself to the floor and crawled to my wand, holding it against my chest. Severus was standing there, mutely watching. He towered over me as I sat on the floor, and I cowered, remembering how Lucius had torn me from the bed and kicked me. My side seared with the pain of the memory.

The windows were black, the firelight making them blacker. I imagined wicked faces pressed up against them, looking in. I closed my eyes tight and shook my head back and forth. My teeth were clenched hard enough to break, and my jaw ached.

Severus's voice came from above, like the soft and dangerous voice of an enraged god.

"What did he do."

I shook my head harder. I was overwhelmed by a sudden fear that he would look into my mind–and I would have no ability to defend myself. But, looking up at him in protest, I saw that his eyes lingered not on my eyes, but on the dressing gown.

"Let me see," he said.

My fast and shallow breathing made tears rise to my eyes. Hiding my face, I crawled back onto the couch, in an attempt to prove that I was alright.

Severus wasn't having it. He continued to watch me, his eyes dark and determined. I wanted him to go away. This wasn't right at all. I wanted to undo the whole evening, back to the moment I had lied to him, and allow him to talk me out of it. I didn't want to be seen like this–

Let him help you, came a calm, cool voice, interrupting the burning chaos of my thoughts. I realised it was the presence of the wand.

Let him help you, Willa, Fred's voice agreed. I gasped with relief and heartache at the return of his voice.

Maybe Severus could do something about the pain.

He cautiously sat down beside me. He seemed to have regained control of himself. I couldn't name the look in his eyes, but I trusted it.

"Let me see," he said, again, his voice softly urging.

I stared at him, holding my breath, and nodded.

He very carefully reached out and touched the fabric of the dressing gown that hung over my knee. I flinched. I had agreed to his touch, but my body hadn't. Even this small surrendering of control caused a response of panic.

Severus withdrew his hand, and it hovered over my body. "I will not hurt you," he said. "You have my word."

My body finally relaxed, and I let the tears roll freely. I didn't care anymore how he saw me, now that everything was about to be exposed.

His face was focused as he undid the tie of the dressing gown, and slipped it aside. He moved the fabric carefully, being sure to protect my decency. But I didn't even care anymore. My decency didn't feel like it was worth very much.

I saw Severus's eyes tighten as he saw the first of the bruises, and let my head fall back, too ashamed to watch him.

He shifted the fabric gently, inspecting the bruises on my hips, over my ribs, around my neck. He then hovered his wand over my whole body, and as he did, slow blooms of golden light appeared in certain places. I looked down and saw that there was one over my lip, one over my ribs, and one over my belly. The first two showed the traces of where the healing spells had been done, and the third showed the contraceptive charm.

Severus grimaced, and his breath came out with a burdened sound of dismay. His face had grown tighter since I'd looked away. His eyes were very dark, but somehow soft.

He cast a wordless spell and carefully touched his wand to my side, then both of my hips, and finally my neck. All of my pain was slowly and completely leached from my body.

I hadn't even realised how badly I'd been hurting, and began to sob weakly from relief. I didn't feel so afraid now, only spent and useless. The physical pain was gone, but the feeling of ubiquitous dirtiness was still very much intact.

Severus tied the dressing gown again, and wrapped a heavy blanket around my shoulders. He was looking away. "I will have to bring Poppy," he said. "To take evidence."

"No," I pleaded.

Severus's eyes returned to mine. I trembled. His gaze was searing. "This is the doing of a beast. He must be punished."

My head drooped. Couldn't this remain private? But I knew even as I thought that, even if it could, it shouldn't. Lucius had made a mistake, allowing me out of the Manor carrying the evidence of his abuses. His use of the contraceptive charm at the very least would be damning if brought to the awareness of the Ministry.

I gripped my wand tightly and crossed an arm over my belly as I remembered the pain of his body, his disgusting words.

Severus meanwhile was conjuring his patronus. "Poppy. Come to Number Twelve Grimmauld Place by floo immediately. Wilma has been hurt."

The blue doe lowered its head and looked at me with concern before dashing off and disappearing.

I was glad that he'd said hurt and not the other word. I remembered the days of shame in the hospital tent after the battle. I'd been barely lucid most of the time, but I could remember sensing Severus's presence. It wasn't comforting then; few people yet knew that his allegiance to Voldemort had been false, and I'd imagined that he was part of a bad dream which had ensnared me, from which I would soon wake up. But I had never woken up. The bad dream had been reality, and after enough time it had narrowed into something tolerable. But now all of the pain had been brought up again, the old wounds reopened…

A non-corporeal patronus appeared in the room, a faint ball of thin blue mist, and spoke with Poppy's voice. "I am on my way." Then it evaporated, and the room was painted with the darkness of the crackling flames.

Severus turned to look at me and saw that I was barely breathing, holding my throat. I really deserved reprimanding this time, I thought. He had asked me where I was going, and I had lied through my teeth. I had left him to worry, and now here he was, trying to pick up my shattered pieces. I regretted everything. If he was angry with me, I wanted him to show it.

But he only looked at me evenly. I had no idea what he was thinking, and he was deeply silent. I let my eyes fall again, unable to look at him for shame.

"I need… sleep…" I managed. I couldn't be here. I needed to burrow down into nothingness for a while. I didn't know what this collection of evidence was going to entail, but I was sure I didn't want to be conscious for it.

I pointed over at my cloak in the corner, and Severus summoned it and held it out to me. I folded one of the flaps over and tried to get the pouch out of the pocket, but my hands were shaking too badly. Severus let me struggle for a moment and then took over. "Inside…" I whispered, as he pulled out the pouch. He pulled on the drawstrings and withdrew the vial of potion.

"Dreamless Sleep," he said, recognising it at once. I reached for it, but he didn't give it to me. "This is a very small dose," he said. "I could put you under more deeply if you wish."

"Yes," I said. All of my stubbornness, my desire to resist, to be alone, was gone. I held onto my wand as Severus carefully helped me to lie down. My muscles gave a small unpleasant jolt at the touch of a man, but my wand helped me relax. My body sank against his hands, giving way like clay. Severus, kneeling on the floor, pulled the blanket over me.

"Are you going to leave?" I asked, my voice wavering as he lifted his wand. I felt a tear fall from my eye, and my shame deepened. I hated being this helpless.

His eyes deepened, their hardness melting. "No. Poppy and I will watch over you."

I let his voice flood over me, forced to trust him. I felt my wand relax, and an echoing easing in my body, a submission that was not at all dangerous or bad. For now, I would allow myself to be taken care of.

I was surprised when Severus's hand slowly fell over my own, resting on top of the blanket, over my heart. The weight and warmth of it was comforting, rather than upsetting. I knew that this sleep would not be the end of my pain, but a bit of warmth bloomed in my chest. Severus would keep me safe.

"No dreams?" I asked, as he held his wand over my forehead.

He shook his head. "No dreams."

I let my eyes drift close, and felt all sensation leave my body as Severus cast a silent spell of deep and shrouding sleep. A dark black nothingness swelled in my mind, and coolly caressed my entire body, and I knew no more.

NOTE

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