Four

"Your ass ready to unpack now?" It was Daphne speaking the moment Lorelei entered the room. If Lorelei was going to go foraging, she would need her briefcase. No exceptions.

Daphne was sprawled in her bed, lying on her stomach with a copy of this morning's Daily Prophet in her hand. She must have been rereading the articles. Astoria was in the bathroom, busying herself with something in the sink. Lorelei shakes her head and makes her way towards her bed. Both her suitcase and briefcase remain untouched on the sheets, reminding her that she'd need to unpack, sooner or later. Lorelei decided on the latter, unpacking could wait, but the sun could not.

"No, I'm going out," she says, seizing her briefcase. She starts walking towards the door when she spins around to look at Daphne. "Before you ask where: the forest," she says, informing her was the least she could do. Daphne didn't need to ask, she realised the moment Lorelei touched the handle of her briefcase where she was going.

"Wait, hold on," Daphne scoffs. She sets the newspaper down and sits up. Lorelei comes to a halt and stares at her sister, expectant, waiting as if she had something better to do with her time. Daphne motions outside. "You do realise it's going to get dark soon, right?"

"Yeah," Lorelei answers, taking her time. She peers out one of the windows and narrows her eyes. "I'll probably have, what? An hour, maybe two before the sun sets? That's enough time to get started, and besides, if I stay in this bloody building for any longer I might actually consider poisoning myself—,"

"Lorrie, I can't let you go out by yourself."

"Oh yeah, and why's that, Daph?"

Daphne sighs, averting her eyes. She looks out the windows. The clouds were thick in the sky, an army of grey, fluffy soldiers. They were dense with the beginnings of a storm that would be far from light. "You know it isn't safe here."

Lorelei raises her eyebrows, she can feel the smile tugging at her lips. "Like that's ever stopped me," she chuckles. There were worse things that existed in the world to be afraid of, rain and darkness were not one of them.

"Exactly," Daphne turns her gaze back onto Lorelei who was practically bubbling to get out of there. Time was of the essence, and besides, she needed to take her mind off things. The longer Lorelei stayed in the Manor, the more free reign her thoughts had, and they'd probably return to thinking about him. Daphne groans. Her sisters were her weakness, her fatal flaw. She wanted them happy, always. "Just— just don't get lost and come back before the sun sets, okay? It looks like it's going to rain out there, I wouldn't want you to come home with a cold or something."

Lorelei bounces on the balls of her feet and sticks a thumbs up in her sister's direction, practically halfway out the door. She was faster than the rain. "Yes, ma'am," Lorelei says before rushing out of the room, leaving Daphne to her sighs and the shutting door.

It didn't take long for her to rush out of Malfoy Manor entirely.

With her briefcase in tow, she paces down the dimly lit halls and spirals down staircases, following the mental map in her head until she reaches the main entrance. Lorelei pushes the grand doors open, just enough to leave a crack in which she could slip through. She was a prisoner freed as she ran across the forecourt, wondering what the necessity to have one was when she finally reaches the main drive. It was a long stretch of gravel with thick hedges on either side.

The forest was right at the end, it could have well been the light at the end of the tunnel.

Lorelei wastes no time running forwards, racing with the rocks crunching underneath her shoes. The tug she feels in her heart eases, and at last, she reaches the gates that creak open in her favour. The forest was a short distance in front of her, barricaded off by an intricate iron fence she did not remember being there. Behind her, the Manor is reduced to a simpler state, not so grand and domineering anymore. The iron fence bordering the forest wasn't a problem. The bars were far enough apart for even a grown man to squeeze through. Lorelei releases a breath, she felt more at home entering the forest than entering any room in the Manor. The tug disappears entirely because she was there, finally, where she was meant to be.

Her connection with the forest formed all thanks to Mr Hawthorn. She found purpose in foraging, understanding how even the simplest of plants were vital for a potion to work. How even the most mundane of us could create the most brilliant things. How a Squib could be so much more than magic rejected.

Mother Nature praised her entrance with a comforting sonnet. Frogs croak nearby, insects buzz and birds tweet, singing their song through the dark twisting trees. The air was cool and it graces her cheeks, sending flurries of goosebumps down her neck. It felt like entering an entirely new atmosphere, a world, a planet where nothing but discovery mattered. Lorelei navigated her way through dense woods and roots which trace the ground in irregular patterns.

She heard a stream nearby, which only meant one thing: rich mud. Lorelei would be able to use it to make her smoothing creams. They came in handy mitigating the appearance of cuts or bruises she'd get from her foraging adventures, sometimes healing them entirely. Before Lorelei sets off to find the stream, she spins around, making sure she can still see the iron gates through the flora.

That's when she sees them.

People in black cloaks. Masks. Their laughter was like Death's calling.

Lorelei instantly crouches down, hiding behind a tree and not taking her eyes off them.

They weren't in the forest, no, they were on the other side of the fence. Lorelei doesn't move, she doesn't even breathe because who needs air? Not Lorelei Greengrass, that's for sure. Her body rejects movement, frozen by the shock and sight of the mob. It was hard to distinguish how many of them there were, with the trees obstructing her view.

Black cloaks hung off their bodies and masks with carvings of all sorts hid their faces. All sense of rationality escapes her mind and all Lorelei could do was watch. She doesn't know if she's entranced or petrified. For all she knew, they'd already killed her and she was watching them as a voices were absorbed through the trees, only reaching her ears as inaudible chatter. Lorelei shifts her feet.

Snap. It was the twig undereath her foot.

One of them whirls around.

Fuck.

Lorelei curses her existence and crouches down lower. Her dress was ruined, but she couldn't have cared less. She prays one of the large roots hid her from sight. Surly they couldn't have heard that, she was too far away. Lorelei waited as their mumbling voices got smaller and smaller as they made their way towards the Manor.

The realisation sets in only when the last of them disappear through the gates.

Lorelei connects the dots.

No, she couldn't have been right. It was impossible. There was no way they were here for… Draco. He said that he was getting branded soon but surely he didn't mean tonight. It seemed as though madness had finally conquered the world. Lorelei didn't want to believe it. Even for him, it wasn't fair. He had just gotten home from Hogwarts, home from all the shit he had to deal with at school, with his Father, with his Mother, with the Manor being searched, with her—

The sky is darkening and a drop of water on her cheek brings her back to her senses.

Lorelei peers around, she could barely see her surroundings. The sun was on the brink of the horizon, and she'd only have a few minutes left until she was utterly plunged into darkness. Darkness didn't scare her, but the creatures that came out during it did. She was late. She promised Daphne she'd be back before sunset, but that was when she knew Death Eaters wouldn't be there. What would she do now? Camp out in the forest until they left?

One drop turned into two, then three, four, five, and too many to fucking count. It was pouring. The trees were shelter enough, but the rain persists, battering down en masse. Daphne would understand if Lorelei was a bit late.

She doesn't know how many minutes, hell, hours it has been, but it certainly has been enough. She can already feel the water soaking through her dress. Lorelei couldn't bring her briefcase back, it was risky. There was too much in there, too many valuable items that would have been better off hidden than in their hands. In the rain, Lorelei finds a nearby bush and stashes her briefcase under it. Tomorrow, it would be nearly impossible to find, but she'd have to try.

As the rain continues to saturate Lorelei's clothes, she makes her way through the forest, walking in a straight line, towards the only light she could see. Malfoy Manor, a place she wanted nothing to do with, now became her beacon. She continues with a shiver in her limbs, the cold was beginning to get the best of her. Her teeth chatter as she folds her arms, bringing them closer to her body. It doesn't make a difference, the water trickles from her sleeves to her stomach where it licks her skin like ice. She wipes her glasses every so often, the droplets of water settling on them like pests. Her hair must have been soaked, making it seem as though she was fresh out of the shower.

It didn't take long for Lorelei to start hearing the voices. She stops in her tracks and her body sinks slightly in the mud beneath her shoes. She was going crazy, the rain was getting in her ears and she was going to die out here, alone in brown slush.

There it was again. The voices. They were calling her name.

Lorelei heard the woman first.

"Lorelei!" She sang. Something flickered between the trees. Lorelei's heart accelerated in the hopes that it was Daphne. She'd come to find her, to rescue her! "Lorelei!" She called again, but something was different. Her voice was deeper, raspy, and older than the voice of what should have been a teenager. Could it have been her Mother? Or Narcissa even?

The second voice made her heart stop. It wasn't her mother, and she wasn't alone. Lorelei hides behind a tree, her back pressing roughly against its thorny bark. If only it could swallow her whole. Its thorns scratch her clothes and pierce her skin, and she could only hope they didn't draw blood. This was no time to bleed.

"Lorelei!" A voice yells. It was a man. A man she did not recognise. He said her name as if it was two long syllables instead of three.

The voices sneak through the dense trees and taunt their way through Lorelei's mind. They're close, whoever they are, and they call her name as if they've known her for years. Both of them. So casual, but with a deep hunger, a desire which is far from comforting. It stabs her, like a blade over her skin, like the thorns in her back, threatening her to reveal herself from the tree she hides behind.

Lorelei considers climbing it. There were stubs she could use to anchor her feet and she could take refuge in its branches. It was risky, but she could make it work. Lorelei releases a sharp breath before swiftly turning around, eyeing the problem she would need to tackle to reach the top.

As she was about to make her first move, a pair of hands grip her shoulders and yank her to the ground. She feels the air race through her hair before the wind gets knocked out of her lungs. Lorelei slams into the muddy earth, splashes go everywhere and dirt sticks to her skin. At least the ground wasn't rock-hard. Whoever they were, they certainly had no mercy.

"Hello, sweetheart," a woman says, holding her wand up for light. She had dirty ginger hair which peeked out from the hood she wore over her head, raindrops trickling off it. Lorelei did not recognise who she was, but she knew enough to know what she was. Her black robes spoke for themselves, as did the skull and snake that was branded on her wet forearm. "Greyback, get your pedo arse over here, and take a look at the girl," she calls over her shoulder.

Shortly after, he appears beside her, towering and soaking wet. Lorelei was still on the ground, and it felt as if he could crush her with just a stomp of his foot. Lorelei recognises this one; the werewolf, Fenrir Greyback, he practically lived on the wanted list on the last page of the Daily Prophet.

"Mhm, too old for me," he grumbles, dismissive and already turning away. Lorelei scrunches her nose as an uneasy feeling twists through her insides. Even in the rain, she could smell him reeking like a dog with fresh blood and onions.

The woman rolls her eyes. "Not for you, knucklehead," she says, slapping him over the head. Lorelei watches, eyes wide as Greyback turns to snarl at the woman, baring sharp yellow teeth with water dripping from the canines. It was a miracle he hadn't bitten her head off… yet. "She's the one the Dark Lord requested."

Lorelei feels her body melt. A cold sweat forms on her forehead and she can feel her blood desert her limbs. The rain was really fucking up her hearing, or it could have been that fall earlier— Lorelei was a nobody and the Dark Lord didn't take interest in nobodies.

"Wait, wait," Lorelei whispers, mostly to herself. Her tongue feels numb in her mouth. She has words, but she can't speak. "Wait, what? Are you— are you— me? Requested? Are you sure you have the right person? I mean, I'm— I'm not even—,"

"Her?" Greyback asks. He scratches behind his ear, not taking his eyes off Lorelei's mumbling figure. "She don't look like no Greengrass, didn't them only have two daughters? What, she their maid or something?" He nudges Lorelei's leg with his foot, causing her to yank it away as if he burnt her.

The woman runs a hand over her face and groans. She waves three fingers in front of Greyback's face. He stares at them as if he's about to bite them off.

"Not two, three. They have three children, three girls… this one must be the Squib," she says as if he were a four-year-old. Her eyes travel back to Lorelei, they seem offended, perhaps even on the brink of disgust.

Some didn't even know she existed, and those who did only knew rumours of her being… what she was. Her parents never confirmed anything. A pureblood and a Squib should never mix; people — purebloods, at least most of them — treated it as if having both in one body was sacrilege. The older woman wondered how Lorelei could have made it so long without being disowned. Then again, the Greengrasses were eccentric like that. Purebloods, Slytherins, but not a single Death Eater in the family. They were weird.

"Be a good dog and grab her, will you?"

The panic fully settles, causing palpitations in Lorelei's heart as she scrambles to her feet, putting her hands out in front of her. She backs away as Greyback advances and he barks with laughter. She was a rat, trapped in a cage, denying the fact that she had no way out. Lorelei kept her hands in front of her as if she could stop him — as if she could put up a forcefield to protect herself.

"No, no," she shakes her head, frantic, begging. She's powerless. It happens quickly. Greyback captures her and heaves her over his shoulder like a lifeless log. The smell of fresh blood, onions and a wet fucking dog bombards her senses. Lorelei kicks her legs and bashes her fist against his back, but he doesn't react, not a single bit. They start walking out of the forest. He tightens his arms around her legs, locking them in place. Lorelei screams. "Don't fucking touch me! Put me down! Please, I haven't done anything wrong! I'm— I'm not the one you're looking for!"

Greyback growls and squeezes Lorelei's legs tighter. Lorelei winces. He could break them like toothpicks if he wanted to. "Can't you make her shut up or something, Carrow?" He sneers to his side. Lorelei's mouth stretches into a thin line. The woman beside them must have been one of the Carrow siblings.

Alecto Carrow.

"No can do, Your Majesty," she replies to the werewolf who was far from royal. She slows behind to meet Lorelei's face. Lorelei furrows her eyebrows, holding in the urge to protest through gritted teeth. Carrow doesn't smile when she says, "The Dark Lord needs her… alive."

They're out of the forest and Lorelei has never been so afraid to return. This was far more than the cold Daphne was expecting.