On occasion, other Death Eaters would visit. Word had long since spread through their ranks that Lucius had bought the daughter of his Muggle piece, and they were curious. Josephine, of course, was terribly frightened of every Death Eater who walked into the tent and would scurry over to wherever her mother was. Lucius made excuses for her in the beginning— "She's a shy thing, leave her be." After a while though, he ordered her to sit nicely at the table while he chatted with his comrades. "They're not going to bite you! They just want to say 'hello!'"
Some brought sweets to give Josephine. She was the youngest person by far in the camp, and several Death Eaters had begun to view seeing her as the one innocent thing they could indulge in, otherwise, all they had was sex, drinking, and gambling. They teased Lucius for having gone soft, but they all knew well that it wasn't true. Just because you did something kind for the woman you held down every night, it didn't mean you'd stopped being who you were.
Regarding the women, there'd grown to be two camps within the larger one of the Death Eaters: those who took care of their women (though perhaps did not care for them), and those who, by and large, did not.
One Death Eater, whose tent Lucius and some others would visit to play cards, often had his young woman tied by her wrists to the foot of the bed, kneeling on the floor and sometimes gagged if she were crying. He'd even get up during a game to tie shut her mouth if she annoyed him enough, and the rest of them would have to listen to him slapping and cursing at her while he did it. It had gotten to a point where the others began to feel sorry for the girl. As far as anyone could tell, she never did anything to purposely aggravate her master.
"He causes his own aggravation," said several. Still, other Death Eaters said the little half-blood bitch could take it. Who gave a fuck?
Then there were the few Death Eaters whose wives were present in the camp. Some were loyal husbands, whilst others kept a girl in a friend's tent or else traded what they could to have another's for a bit.
Lucius had gotten a surprising number of offers to take Theresa for a night, a day, an entire weekend.
"If that old Muggle is so enjoyed by you, Lucius Malfoy, then I want a taste! You may have mine how ever you want!"
Lucius's reply had been, "I don't want your dead-eyed, tremble-handed, nineteen-year-old Mudblood!" And Lucius had made clear that Josephine was not to be asked for— "There'll be no child-selling out of my tent," as well as, "The girl has some wizarding blood in her; even what little is, I suppose it should count for something."
Josephine had little to say for herself, just as she'd not after he'd bought her from the Snatchers. She clung to her mother less and less which each passing day, but only enough to wander about the grass behind the tent and the edge of the forest nearby without reaching for her mother to go with her.
Theresa was as meek as ever with Lucius, but she'd developed a spine where her daughter was concerned, even daring to chastise him—in quite a retiring manner—for sneaking a hand into her dress whilst Josephine was inside the tent with them.
"You stroke me dry and shove your tits into my mouth with her mere feet away in the mornings, woman!"
Even though it galled him to be told off by some lowly Muggle piece (and he'd sworn to Theresa he would fuck her until her back was thrown out come nightfall), some part of him was embarrassed at his conduct. He liked the idea of himself as one of the more exemplary Death Eaters with a woman in his tent— "You must actually be nice to her sometimes, old chap, otherwise, you'll only ever see her so timid."— "D'you know that your neighbors find her wailing extremely bothersome? Merlin, man! It won't kill you to be a little gentler with her!" — "Of course she still cries on occasion! What? Did you think she would fall in love with you?!"
No matter the array of feelings the Death Eaters held towards their female captives, a flurry of trading and selling them came about when the stalemate finally halted, and they could all leave for their homes outside of the school and the village.
Theresa had seen no battle, heard no great gatherings of Death Eaters outside to share any startling news. She only knew that Lucius came rushing into the tent one afternoon with an excited look in his eye and began packing his personal items.
"We have advanced," he told her. "Now we may go to our own homes and leave this godforsaken camp behind!"
Theresa grew numb then. "Is—is the war—over?"
"Good lord, no—as I've said, we've advanced—last night, and this morning. Haven't you wondered where I've been?"
Theresa had wondered. He'd gotten up suddenly in the very earliest hours to don his Death Eater robes and had not returned until now.
"So," continued Lucius, "gather up your daughter and any little things the two of you wish to hold on to, though I can't imagine what they might be."
The only things Theresa had in the tent were her dress, the few robes Lucius had given her, her belt, and her comb. When Lucius saw her folding Josie's clothes atop her own, he took the little pile from her hands and placed them out of her reach.
"Oh, leave those! I'll not have you in old rags when I can afford you good clothes. Well, go get your girl, then."
Josie was in shock. "W-why are we leaving? Why can't we go home?"
"We have to go with Lucius, my love. I'm sure it will be better at his house than in this camp. . ."
"B-but I want to go to our house! I—" Josie's face crumbled suddenly. "I want to see Jeremy again!"
Theresa could only her daughter as she wept at yet another new and frightening episode.
She'd forgotten Lucius Malfoy was supposed to be one of the richest wizards in Britain; of course his house was a great manor. Theresa hadn't been in such a place since she was a little girl, and that had been a school tour.
Lucius led her and Josie to a large downstairs kitchen.
"Go ahead and feed yourselves with whatever you find. I have things to attend to in the meantime. Do not wander about the house until I return. Ignore any knocks on the front door. If it happens that I should not be back at dark, you may go to my private room upstairs."
He gave Theresa directions to his room and left them in the kitchen.
He did not, in fact, return before dark, so Theresa led her daughter upstairs to where he'd told her his own bedroom could be found. She surprised herself by actually finding it—the manor was big enough for a newcomer to find themselves lost several times over.
His 'bedroom' was really a suite of rooms. Theresa discouraged Josie from touching a collection of exotic shells, claws, and talons that were displayed in his sitting room, not wanting to know his reaction if one was broken, or perhaps put out of place.
"Let's go to bed, love."
"I want to look around some more."
"Those are his things, Josie! You can't touch them without his permission! Come here so I can brush your hair."
Then she realized she didn't have the comb he'd given her. "No, we aren't going to use one of his! Come here, Josie!"
It took an hour to settle Josie into bed. The girl was jittery and curious about her surroundings, and Theresa had to rub her back and stroke her hair to get her near tiredness.
Theresa drifted, waking at random intervals and struggling to relax enough in the strange bed in the strange house to properly sleep. So, when Lucius slipped into the bed—his bed—Theresa startled.
"Shhh. . . It's only me Trez."
Only him . . . As if that were some reassurance to her.
"Have you slept well, so far?" he whispered.
"Not really."
"Mm. I thought you were awake when I came in: you turned in your sleep, but I thought you were going to sit up. Come here."
"Josie is in the bed, Lucius."
"I know. I don't mean for that. I'll help you go to sleep." He'd turned on his side and patted the mattress beside him.
"Are you still wearing your robe?" The hand he swept over her arm stilled.
"Of course, Lucius."
"You could have borrowed a nightshirt of mine—for her too. I wouldn't have minded."
"I wasn't sure, Lucius. Josie would have found them; she wanted to look around your rooms."
"I do try to keep it interesting in here. Why don't we make you more comfortable?" He went to his wardrobe then and extracted a long nightshirt for Theresa to sleep in instead of her robe. She realized he too was wearing a nightshirt—many wizards' choice of sleepwear.
"Thank you, Lucius."
"It's no trouble, though I like that you didn't go snooping around my things."
He snuggled up to her then and began to rub her arms and back, to stroke her hair and even her hands until he, rather than Theresa, began to fall asleep.
Theresa woke to find Lucius had already washed and dressed for the day. He was leaning against the entrance to his sitting room as though he had heard her rustling in the bed and had just entered his bedroom.
"Good morning, Trez."
She thought he had a strange look on his face.
"Good morning. Are you—all right? You look like you're not happy with me."
"Do I? Well, it's nothing to do with you. It's been . . . a morning."
He pushed off from the doorway to approach the bed. Josie continued to sleep.
"Did we oversleep?" Theresa asked cautiously, still unsure of Lucius's mood.
"It's nearly ten, but I think you both needed a lie-in. If you want, you may bathe in the en-suite, just through there."
"What shall I do with Josephine? When she wakes up, I mean."
"Take her to the kitchen for breakfast, I should think—oh, why don't you two do that now, and I'll decide where to put you."
"All right."
She woke Josie, who was still in the overlarge robe she'd had on the day before. She looked bewildered to see Theresa dressed in a man's nightshirt. They'd only ever seen Lucius sleep in a plain robe (though Theresa had seen him sleep with nothing more often than not). She changed out of it and donned her robe again before leading Josie back downstairs to find something to eat. It was a magic kitchen, and so of course the meat and dairy were as fresh and edible as the day the Malfoys had been called away last month to fight at Hogwarts. Theresa considered cooking something but was worried all the appliances might be charmed and work against her, so she cut them a few slices of bread with butter and jam. After they'd finished, and as Lucius had not yet come down to the kitchen, Theresa timidly led Josephine up the stairs, only to run into him in the hall.
"Ah, perfect timing. Come."
Lucius led them to the top of the manor, to a garret room with a window and no furniture.
"Obviously you'll need to set it up properly. That will be your task today, though I shall help you with the heavier things—transporting and conjuring the bed and such. I'll do that later. Until then, you two can clean up in here and go into the other garrets where spare furnishings are kept."
Where do we find things to clean with, Lucius?"
"Damned if I know. I'm the master here, not a servant! You two can go exploring until you find them."
Theresa and Josephine turned on the spot to survey the slanting room. It was actually quite spacious.
"Thank you, Lucius. What bathroom do we use from here?"
"There's a small one right down the corridor. You'll have to see that it is stocked with soap and towels yourself."
"I understand, Lucius."
"I'm sure you do, Mother. But does little Miss Josephine?"
Wide-eyed, Josephine nodded, taking a step nearer Theresa.
"I hope so," said Lucius, still looking at Josephine. "This will be your room, and so you'll be responsible for keeping it up."
It was Josephine's room? Only Josephine's?
Both Theresa and Josephine looked at each other in confusion. Lucius, of course, caught on.
"Oh, dear me, but I haven't made myself very clear, have I?" He looked at Theresa as he said, "Josephine stays in this room; you will stay with me, of course."
Theresa hoped her disappointment wasn't showing.
"You—you don't want any privacy away from me, Lucius?" tried Theresa.
"Well, the benefit of having an entire suite of rooms is that a person can be in one room whilst their companion may be occupied in another."
"Of course," said Theresa, who would have preferred a very different arrangement.
"Come here a moment, Trez."
She followed him down the narrow corridor, away from Josephine.
"You need to understand, woman: nothing has changed for you. You're still mine to use as I see fit. And don't forget that I paid to bring your daughter to you—payment which I'll have to make good on, soon—unless of course, I decide against having her in my house. Don't forget also that I gave in to your motherly demands once you had her back—in my tent."
Theresa's throat felt suddenly constricted. Lucius was looking at her in his old way, cold and stern, as he'd been her first night with him.
"Lucius, I'm sorry—please—"
"Quiet. Familiarize yourselves with the manor; prepare the garret as best you can until I return to help. I expect I'll be gone most of the day."
He returned when Theresa and Josephine were eating supper in the kitchen.
"Why don't you make us all a cup of tea, Trez?"
Theresa admitted to Lucius that she was nervous about touching the appliances in a magical kitchen.
"Smart Muggle, aren't you? Here—" He stood up, motioning for Theresa to do the same. "You play around with the items in here, and I'll see that nothing acts out of place for you."
The biggest revelation to Lucius would be that she couldn't start the old-fashioned gas stove—she needed matches, she told him. Of course, when he tried to summon a box, none came, for none were kept in the manor. Fortunately, nothing in the kitchen reacted poorly at her handling, only she had to inform Lucius that things like kitchen pumps and water being boiled without magic took many minutes. Like many wizards would, Lucius became impatient and tapped the kettle with his wand to get it to a boil for tea.
Once night fell, Lucius ordered Josephine to bed.
"But—I don't remember the way. . ."
"I'll take you, Josie." Theresa said gently.
"Come to my rooms when she's settled."
Theresa nodded to Lucius and led Josephine up to her room, only to remember—
"Oh—the bed! We haven't moved a bed into the garret, yet!"
"It's done," said Lucius simply. "I went up there before I came down here."
"Thank you, Lucius."
"Yes, yes. Hurry up, now."
Providing a bed, wardrobe, and a bedside table was not the only thing Lucius had set to—a stack of clothing lay on the bed. They were simple robes, all black, but new and in Josie's size. He'd added underwear and socks, and a variety of belts. There was a cloak as well for cooler weather.
Theresa wondered what Lucius would expect from her when she went to him in his rooms.
They put Josie's new clothes in the wardrobe, and then Theresa found herself sparing much time in helping her daughter settle for the night. Josie was frightened of sleeping alone in the garret. "And I don't remember the way to his room, Mammy!"
Theresa doubted whether Lucius would even allow Josie inside his rooms at night. She knelt beside the bed and laid her head beside Josie's to stroke her hair and speak soothingly about the interesting things they'd seen in the house that day, and of what Josie might find in the gardens once she had permission to go outside.
Theresa spent so much time trying to soothe Josie that Lucius entered the garret after some time. Of course, Josie sat up immediately to grab her mother's hand.
"Trez. . ." He drew out her pet-name with a thinly veiled warning behind it. "You've been gone a while, haven't you?"
"I am helping Josie go to sleep, Lucius."
Lucius quirked one of his pale eyebrows. "Are you?" He turned his cold gaze to Josie. Theresa felt her daughter stir. "How old are you, dear girl?"
Theresa heard Josie's intake of nervous breath at being addressed by Lucius, so she spoke for her instead. "She is—"
"Theresa . . . be quiet." He had not taken his eyes from Josephine. "Girl . . . how old are you?"
Trembling slightly, Josephine forced herself to answer, "Th-th-thirteen."
"Thirteen, yes . . . and still you need your mother to put you to bed."
Both Theresa and Josephine remained still, afraid of what he might do. He looked back to Theresa now.
"I indulged such childish behavior in the camp because her—experiences—warranted your attentions, but all that ends here, tonight. Now, get up from her bedside and come with me to my rooms."
Theresa stood up, and Josephine grabbed onto her arm. "Mammy. . .!"
"Enough." Lucius's tone was like iron.
Theresa tried to plead with him gently. "Please, just for tonight—"
But he only lunged for her wrist and pulled her with him from the garret. Crying, Josephine attempted to follow, just as she often had in the tent, but of course Lucius snarled at her to stay put and go to sleep. Theresa tried to calm her daughter with reassuring tones— "I'll just be downstairs, my love—"
Only for Lucius to slam the door in Josie's tear-soaked face.
"Lucius, please—"
He yanked her to him by her upper arms, silently daring her to continue. She did.
"Please, Lucius, I'll come to you when she's asleep—"
He squeezed her arms in a painful grip.
"It's her first night alone in so long, Lucius—I'll do whatever you want—please—"
He threw her towards the stairs and forced her to walk ahead of him. When she slowed on one of the landings, he shoved her against the wall and then nearly sent her tumbling down the next flight of stairs.
In his bedroom, he forced her to strip while he watched from a chair, fully clothed himself and sipping from a goblet of wine. All Theresa still had to wear were her robe and a slip, so at least that part passed quickly. He stood, draining the goblet as he did so, and told her to undress him.
She couldn't stop the tears that fell from her eyes as she unbuttoned his shirt. He, of course, merely swiped them away with his thumb and told her, "You seem to have forgotten, Trez, that you are a Muggle—or rather, you've forgotten what that means, so I'll remind you: You have no rights. Every breath you take is at my discretion—why have you stopped? Keep going." Theresa had paused in unbuttoning his shirt. "Anyway—whatever I tell you to do under this roof, you will do without question. The same goes for the girl. But she's a witch, isn't she? Only a half-blood, but that still puts her far above you. A good thing for her, eh? And she is quite young, so I understand her clinging to her mother, but she's not so young. She will learn to be obedient and responsible in my house, and don't look at me like that, Trez—I'm not going to force her to labor every day like a house elf!"
Now undressed, Lucius sat in the chair he'd occupied minutes before and gestured for Theresa so sit in his lap.
"What I'm saying is, Trez, that I don't think you two have accepted your fates as much I'd thought. I don't expect everything to be easy for you, and I'm not averse to being generous, but as I keep telling you, Trez, obedience is the only expectation of you. Show that to your daughter, and I'm sure she'll follow; then things will be easier for her."
Theresa shivered in his lap. Lucius ran his hands over back and her arm, whether because he thought her chilled or knew she was frightened, she knew not.
"So," he continued, "stop making yourself suffer so much, and be an example to little Josephine so that she can accept her new life. Do you understand me, Trez?"
She nodded her head, her eyes on her own clasped hands. Lucius tilted her chin up so that he could look into her eyes.
"Come on then—let's have a hot bath—soothe all our frustrations away. Oh, before I forget, you can toss those old clothes into the fire. I've bought you new ones to wear. Merlin knows I know your size perfectly!"
And Theresa knew she wished he did not.