TRIGGER WARNING! This chapter contains a scene of sexual assault/rape. Although not graphic, it is not a short scene. Therefore I have given you the option to NOT READ IT AT ALL. I do not usually like to put trigger warnings or author's note midchapter but I believe that to be the easiest way to save anyone from discomfort or confusion. So right before the triggering scene I will make a warning. At that point, it is your choice to continue reading. If you wish to skip it you can go to the next chapter without missing too much of the context. The chapter posted immediately after this one will be much shorter. It is really just the ending scene to this chapter but I decided to post it as its own chapter to make it easier for those who decide not to read the triggering scene.

If there IS any confusion or question please let me know. I was struggling with the best way to post this to not trigger anyone while still telling the story the way I believe it needs to be told.

(As always no copyright infringement intended. No profits gained. This is just for fun and my delusion at this point.)

Thank you for reading. As always, I hope you enjoy…

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I survived the first week back with Snape's subtle encouragement and sheer bravado. However, there was only so much Snape could help. Yes, he had become a spectacular, unexpected confidant but there was no way he could fill the place of my three best friends. And everyone else I thought of as a friend.

Thought—the operative word.

Truth was that I was never more alone.

My hour of need, darkness, vulnerability, however you want to describe the fallout of Malfoy's plan left one man standing at my side. Severus Snape, my once least favorite professor, now the only person I can turn to for support.

Two throats cleared in my mind.

You don't exactly count.

You really know how to make us feel loved. Neviah mocked.

You know I don't mean it that way. I reassured her.

And you know it could be worse. Romona snapped. She had been overly sympathetic this week to the point of frightening me.

Glad to see you back to your usual cheery self.

I heard that! Romona whined.

You were meant to. I snarked, feeling as if I finally won an argument with her.

And you were meant to be stronger than this, but here you are staring at the back of George's head. Desperately pining for a boy who won't even look in your general direction. Romona shot back, effectively ending the conversation.

My expression in response to Romana's low but lethal blow must have been a sight. McGonagall paused in her lecture to give me a stern frown. "Has something I said displeased you, Miss Wendling?"

"No, of course not, Professor." I replied, so shocked out of my thoughts by the unexpected comment I forgot to preemptively apologize.

"No, of course not, Miss Wendling," McGonagall repeated in a mocking tone, adding, "You would have needed to be listening to the lecture to be offended by something I said."

Unable to deny it, I ignored the snickers of my classmates as I apologized.

McGonagall must have been having a morning like mine because she did not let the subject drop. "If you know so much about human transfiguration that you believe daydreaming and making googly eyes at the back or Mister Weasley's head are better uses of your time and mine—then perhaps you should demonstrate your practical knowledge to the class."

The entire class turned to jeer at me, everyone but George. McGonagall did not comment on the din. Her gaze was fixed on mine, one eyebrow raised in challenge.

If she wants to test your abilities and knowledge and treat you like a child then she better get ready to award extra credit. Romona promised in a threatening tone.

"Perhaps I should." I said before I thought better of it.

Now wait just a moment! Neviah interjected, sounding more exasperated than ever now she had to reason on two fronts. Low profile, remember?

"As if she even could." Renae scoffed, laughing with Alicia.

Sod it. Neviah cursed, caving into mischief on a rare occasion. Let's make a show of it at least then, yeah? Make it something they're unlikely to forget.

My hand curled around my wand on instinct but I didn't bother to lift it from the desk. I kept my eyes locked on Mcgonagall's as I allowed Romona and Neviah to guide me through the advanced magic.

Let's have them look like the animals they're acting like, eh? Romona cackled as I felt a surge of energy pass through me out into the air.

Another breath, another blink.

Then chaos.

My eyes danced around the room, trying to take it all in at once. Romona laughed full heartedly, Neviah giggled as I realized their spell had transfigured the classroom into a zoo. Where each student sat, an animal had taken their place. Where the room was once divided by house, Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs, it was now divided by class—amphibian, avion, mammal, and reptile.

McGonagall had reverted to her brown tabby animangus form. She sat on her desk, feline eyes darting around the bedlam. There were quite a few predators in the room.

The leopard that replaced Angelina was the most notably ferocious but I couldn't take my eyes off the forms of Fred and George beside her. With fur too red but otherwise spot on, they now stood in turn as hyena and coyote. George made a handsome coyote, I thought, even as he stood on his haunches, teeth bared.

The sight of it was too much. I felt the stone around my neck burn the outline of the coyote into my skin. Just another sign we were meant to be, instinctually, and yet…

George looked like he was about to devour me—and not in the sexy way. In a way that broke my heart and set the pieces on a fire pit. A look set to kill.

With blurring eyes, I wished the tears to stay at bay as much as I wished my classmates to return to their human states. Cheeks dry but eyes still burning, once open I noticed all eyes were still on me. Mostly shocked, amazed, or frightened.

Sean Patrick, a Hufflepuff voiced a common sentiment, "Bloody hell!" That set off a chorus of chatter about what everyone just experienced.

"She actually bloody did it!"

"How did she do it?"

"That was wild!"

"She's a freak!"

"She could have bloody killed us!"

"We could have eaten each other!"

"Did you see George? Looked like he wanted to eat Andi up, all right."

McGonagall glared at me, now standing next to her desk instead of on top of it. George was steadfastly ignoring me, the rest of my former friends following his lead and doing the same.

Another blink, another wish.

When my eyes opened this time, my cheeks were wet. Only McGonagall—still glaring—remembered the last five minutes.

"Oh look, she's crying because she couldn't do it. How pathetic." Renae sniggered, garnering laughter from my classmates.

I refused to let her words get to me, or at least I refused to let her know she succeeded. I kept my eyes trained straight ahead, jaw clenched, teeth biting tongue.

"That's enough!" McGonagall called, clearing her throat, eyes darting back to mine as she reigned in control of her classroom. "Clearly this demonstrates the intricacies of human transfiguration. If the highest scoring student in the subject cannot achieve it, what hope do you have?"

The praise was unexpected but the insult to everyone else was what turned my slice of humble pie into a serving of just desserts.

"Seeing as you are incapable of holding a train of through longer than a poorly delivered insult," McGonagall continued, digging in deep to keep her lips from twitching.

"You will take the time instead to write me an essay on ways human transfiguration can go amuck. As the results are horrific as they are numerous I expect no less than your physical height in writing. It is due first thing tomorrow morning. You are dismissed."

There was a collective groan from the class that was silenced by one of McGonagall's withering glares. Then there was the fluttering of parchment as everyone scrambled to leave before they suffered her wrath. I tried to do the same, halting at McGonagall's voice.

"Miss Wendling, a word if you would."

Bollocks.

Didn't honestly think you'd get through that without consequence did you? Neviah tsked.

They'll be worth it. Romona assured as I squared my shoulders at the laughter of

my classmates. I let it roll off my back, none of their comments hurt as badly as George frowning and turning his back when ours met—not even Alicia latching onto his arm for "comfort" as she sneered at me from over her shoulder.

Once the classroom emptied, I began the death march to McGonagall, apologies falling from my lips before I could even reach her desk.

"I am so sorry, Professor. I know that was out of line and I had no right. It's just that they're coming from sides these days and I'm almost used to it now but I get so irritated when no one respects what I've worked so hard to achieve and I'm sorry, Professor: I didn't mean to endanger anyone and I just know I could do it and I wanted to wipe the smug looks off their faces but I promise they won't remember. Really it's like it never happened for them but I'm still sorry."

The entire time I ranted, McGonagall observed patiently. The wariness shown through her eyes, highlighted by the sigh she gave in response once I finally stopped talking. Her lips were twitching again when she spoke.

"Just to be perfectly clear, how can you assure that none of the fifteen people in the room today will have any recollection of transforming into their animalistic halves?" McGonagall asked, eyes narrowing when I did not answer her. "Do not forget that I helped you complete your present for Mister Weasley and do not think I did not recognize the significance of his transformation."

"What do you mean? What significance?" I questioned boldly.

"Do not fake naivety, Miss Wendling. With the power you possess, it is unbecoming." McGonagall chastised, continuing on in a demanding tone. "Surely you noticed the coyote and hyena forms that the Weasley twins took. I suspect you tapped into the inner animal of all the people in this room. All sixteen of us, all at once."

She lost the tone of awe at my transfiguration skills and narrowed her gaze, asking point blank, "Did you tap into their minds and erase their memories the same way, Andrella?"

I ducked my head, unable to defend myself with anything but denial, deception, or flat out lies. Thankfully, my head of house took pity on me, saving me from self-incrimination. When she spoke this time it was with the same sternness but with a newfound hint of warmth.

"If so, you have clearly been holding back in class and in our private lessons. While quite impressive, flamboyant displays of your practical mastery are to be confined to our private lessons. During classes you can complete individual coursework I believe you will find more challenging. We will begin with N.E.W.T. Level and progress from there. If you agree to this, we will forget today's incident and begin your newly focused studies during Thursday's lesson. Do you agree, Miss Wendling?"

At the sound of my name I looked McGonagall in the eye. During her speech I had been looking at the wall behind her shoulder. "Yes, professor. Thank you, professor." I agreed hastily, before she could change her mind.

I was amazed not to be saddled with a month's worth of detention. I made my retreat to the exit when she cleared her throat. "One last thing before you are dismissed, Miss Wendling."

Bullocks. "Yes, professor?" I turned back, forcing a smile.

"Take 40 points for Gryffindor." McGonagall beamed, watching the rubies on the mini banner she had sitting on her desk fill up to replicate the one in the great hall.

"Not that I am complaining, but—"

"Why?" McGonagall offered a rare smile. Even with her own house she was never known for her generosity In awarding points—only deducting them.

"10 points for the most impressive improvised transfiguration I've seen in a decade. 10 for the competency in Charms required to perform one Obliviate, yet alone more than a dozen simultaneously. Another 10 for the ability to do both nonverbal and wandless." She said the last word in equal parts exasperation and amazement, in a tone that nearly took the praise out of the statement. She was clearly still miffed at my 'underperforming to my potential'.

Still, I was blushing as I cleared my throat to ask my brazen question. "And the last 10 points?"

McGongall leaned forward on her elbows over the desk. Lips drawn in contemplation, gaze razor sharp, she remained silent as she studied me. if I hadn't been spending so much time learning occulmency from Snape, I would have been worried about all my deepest secrets. After several long moments, she finally spoke.

"As professors, we are put into an impossible situation. One where we are expected to stay current in student affairs without interfering beyond attempted guidance. The last 10 points have been awarded due to your return to a hostile Gryffindor Dormitory, for rising above attempts to deface your reputation, and for maintaining your courage and composure.

"Your responses to the actions taken against you by peers have been admiral, brave, and by very definition the essence of what it means to be a self-respecting Gryffindor. There might be public doubt regarding your character, but your actions here have disproven them."

For a minute after her speech ended, I just stared at her—half-convincing myself I must still be daydreaming. "Thank you, Professor." I finally said.

"Thank me by continuing to disprove any accusations that you are anything less than an admirable, honorable, capable young witch and a fine, young woman." McGonagall said, stern exterior wavering into a mischievous smile. "Do it in a way that will have Mr. Weasley and the rest of your housemates begging for forgiveness with their tails tucked between their legs."

I couldn't help it. The laughter that burst through in an infectious bubble. Sending me to a wheezing state when McGonagall's smirk stretched into a Cheshire grin as she dismissed me. I was still giggling even after packing up my belongings and deciding to head to the library. Maybe tonight would be the lucky night my mother's diary chooses to reveal itself.

The good mood caused by McGonagall's joke and encouragement lasted for all of five minutes. When I rounded the corner of the last stretch of the journey to my beloved books, my soul left my body and I watched the scene fold out like I was watching a dramatic cartoon.

My eyes go comically wide, my jaw hitting the floor as I see Renae with Draco, Flint, Knott, and Pucey. A close up of my feet trying to retrace their steps back around the corner before anyone noticed. The focus flashes to Malfoy's eyes as they narrow in a truly icy gaze as they meet mine. Silver blue on silver blue. Malfoy's lips stretch into a practiced grin as he nudges his companions and points at me. I squared my shoulders and marched onward—not allowing them the satisfaction of seeing me hesitate.

So when Knott whistled, Flint leered and licked his lips, and Pucey offered an "encore performance" for their fans at the Prophet—I didn't hesitate.

I waved my wand and gave them an encore performance of my practical knowledge in transfiguration, charms, AND defense against the dark arts. The only one left unimproved was Renae who looked at the changed face of her boyfriend.

"CHANGE HIM BACK!" Renae shrieked. She turned to charge at me but stopped at the sight of my wand pointed between her eyes.

"I will do no such thing." I seethed, readjusting my grip on my wand just to make Renae twitch. "Besides, they'll turn back on their own. Just as soon as they stop being prickfaced arsehats."

"You can't just do this and walk away!" Renae screamed, her whole face turning an ugly shade of red. She only had eyes for me, too mortified to look at her boyfriend.

"Oh, look. I just did this…and oh, look! Now I'm walking away." I cackled, not turning back or stopping when she shouted. I knew I was safe since I immobilized all of them and left only Renae with the ability to speak. None of them were talented enough to do the counter curses necessary to free themselves. Let alone nonverbal and wandless.

"You won't get away with this!"

"What's one more detention?" I tossed back with a shrug. It was true before and it was true now—Whatever consequences came of this would be worth it.

I regained the confidence in my step as I rounded the corner, ready to boast about my exceptionally well-executed prank. But as my mind searched for someone to share my accomplishments, my heart landed on George and Fred and so it ached. My confidence shattered as I realized once again that the only person I wanted to share my life with, didn't want me in theirs.

I thought about heading to the Fortress. To drink away my pain in solitude, but loneliness was the problem. And so my feet began to carry me to the library as I originally intended. I kept my wand at the ready even after making myself invisible. I would never let my enemies catch me off guard again. I would never feel that powerless.

I was shaking with determination, each step a battle. It was taking all my self control to keep on the path to the library, on the path to truth and self discovery. The strength it took not to will myself to my Fortress with a bottle of firewhiskey was motivation to take another step forward. I wasn't ready to give up myself; I wasn't ready to drink my life away. Not yet anyway. Not when there was hope. Even If faith made me vulnerable, I wasn't ready to abandon it yet.

So I pressed on and when I opened the door to the library the smile on my face was well earned.

It was unusually empty for the afternoon before Snape's potion review for the sixth year after dinner tonight. Given the equally as unusually warm January day, I suppose I shouldn't be surprised, but I was rightfully relieved. After the mess of Transfiguration class and the incident with Renae and Slytherin's most vile, I wasn't up for any more excitement.

I kept myself invisible and tip-toed through the library to my spot. Yes, my spot. I was unwilling to allow Elliott or George or anyone else to take away my last safe space inside the castle. If anyone doubted my devotion to the defense of the solitary table hidden in the corner near the restricted section on the second floor, they were in for a delightfully nasty hex. Just thinking of the curse found in Moody's personal library of defensive magic put a smile on my face. Now I was hoping someone was sitting at my table just so I had the chance to practice a few of them.

Maybe we'll run into Maggot Flint again, Romona added hopefully, happy to encourage my bloodlust and desire for retribution.

We can only hope, I replied, smirking as I felt her presence leave my mind. More than likely she was scoping out the castle to find the bastard in question. To what power she had to influence that meeting, I had no clue, but of her determination to do so? I had no question.

Neviah, uneasy with the two of us working together on this front, instructed, Go search for the book and if it does not appear, go to the restricted potions, charms, and transfiguration sections and look for information on the Veil. Books on Necromancy might also be useful.

The Veil? I questioned, unfamiliar but instantly intrigued.

An ancient stone archway, housed in the Death Chamber inside the Department of Mysteries, Neviah explained patiently but I could feel her amusement. It is believed to be a physical manifestation of the barrier between the Land of the Living and the Land of the Dead. And that much is true, but it is more than that, especially to you. Research it.

I had no chance to reply before she disappeared as well, no doubt to chase her sister and bring her back to the side of reason. Probably by using a coercive technique as she just successfully implemented on me. My bloodlust was replaced by a thirst for knowledge.

I didn't even stop to check the table was empty, too preoccupied with the quest for irresistible temptation Neviah skillfully placed. Instead I went straight for the restricted section of the admittedly small section of Necromancy, figuring that was as good of a place to start as any. Once there, I checked to make sure I was alone and let out a breath I didn't know I was holding. I inhaled again, placing my invisible palm out flat, careful not to touch the fragile, irreplaceable and probably cursed books. Knowing that the Sisters were gone for the present moment, I focused my energy inward, searching for the connection to Merlin that supposedly ran through my veins until I began to feel the hair rise on my neck. On the exhale, I asked out loud, "Merlin, give me what I desire."

"Your wish is my command, Darling." came a flirtatious chuckle in my ear.

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TRIGGER WARNING! SA! TRIGGER WARNING!

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I didn't even have time to open my eyes before a silky piece of cloth obstructed my vision. I didn't have time to scream before my startled intake of air was silenced by a scarf thrust into my mouth.

"Fulfilling your deepest, darkest, dirtiest desires? The pleasure is all mine." Elliott purred right in my ear, pushing me against the bookcase so his body was flush against mine.

I felt him grab both of my hands in one his own, forcing them up and over my head. I couldn't look up to see what he was doing but I felt cold, heavy metal wrap around both of my wrists.

Magical Handcuffs. Most likely cursed ones, seeing how tired I suddenly feel. How sluggish, sleepy and weak. Drained of energy. Draining my magic.

Elliott went from pinning me to the bookcase to using his strength to keep me upright. As he felt the shift of energy, his grip on my wrists got tighter and he drew in closer, nuzzling into my neck to inhale deeply. My whole body shivered in repulsion, with it draining even more of my precious energy. At the movement, he lifted his head and began to laugh again. The heat from his mocking laughter tickled my ear as he drew in closer still.

"Don't worry, darling. I won't let you sleep through the fun." Elliott promised, voice suddenly turning darker as he added, "and I won't let you cut us short again. I don't care if Dumbledore himself walks in this time. You owe me what you promised."

The threat in his words was nothing compared to the promise of his fingers. One hand still wrapped tightly around my wrist, the other trailed down one arm. He tip-toed his fingers down and across my back and then up the other arm. His face was still nuzzling in my neck, breathing in deeply through his nose and exhaling endearments with heaving sighs.

"You are so striking."

"You are so beautiful."

"You are so darling."

"You are almost perfect."

A sudden nip on my clavicle, a sudden darkening of an already dark situation.

"You are almost mine."

"Almost mine and once you are I won't let them touch you. Not one of them. They're not good enough for you, but I am. I will show you."

"I will make you mine."

I felt adrenaline coursing through me as much as panic.

I knew I still had access to my magic and therefore the upper hand, but I could feel it draining quickly. I needed to act quickly before the possibility of him overpowering me became any larger. But what spell to use? How to act? When? I knew I would only have one opportunity, one spell, one moment to escape this situation.

In a fair fight, there was no question who would win, however Elliott had ensured I would be disadvantaged. I knew he was clever and quick, but I had no idea how cruel. I had never seen this side of him before and I was unsure how badly a miscalculation would cost me.

I felt myself shiver as he wound his hand around my neck, flexing his grip experimentally.

"Shh, Darling. I can hear you thinking, but you don't have to worry anymore. I've thought of everything. Now you just have to relax and feel." Elliott tried to soothe me, and with some success as he removed his hand from around my throat. But then as I felt the tip of his wand replace his fingers in his teasing and terrifying ministrations, my relief transmuted to panic. "I've just the thing to help you ease into your skin so you can enjoy this as much as I know I am going to."

No longer able to think, I closed my eyes and pleaded for Romona and Neviah to return to me. To give me a way out of this, but I was too late.

"Petrificus partialis." Elliot whispered the spell into my ear, nibbling my earlobe before pulling away suddenly. My guess was to prepare himself for my entire body falling limp in his arms. As he laid me flat on the marble floor, all I could do was look up at his smirking face in horror.

"Like that, do you?" He chuckled, moving to straddle my hips with confidence now he knew I could not fight back. "You should be impressed. It's a combination of a modified full body-bind, and a special magic stripping curse, both of which I've invented. The partial bodybind makes you completely imobile yet pliable. The magical bind not only makes you unable to access any of your magic–yes, that includes your special Ismerte magic–, but it siphons your magic and boosts mine. Pretty brill, eh?"

The smug confidence in his tone and self-satisfied way he made a show of loosening his tie to unbutton his shirt had my skin crawling. Shrugging out of the top half of his uniform to reveal clearly defined muscles just on this side of "bulging". Something I was not expecting or remembering from the steamy outline portrayed in my visions. Something that would make fighting my way out of this much worse should he choose to turn to violence.

Elliott mistook the widening of my eyes and took the opportunity to taunt me."Do you like what I see? Some of us don't have to play a ruggish game to keep in shape. Some of us have much more fun methods and I plan on demonstrating a few more to you."

He either mistook my fear for arousal or the hardwire for the both in his brain were all screwed up. The calculating glimmer in his eye as his attention shifted to my clothing supported the latter theory. As he slowly made work of the buttons on my top, I called out to the sisters again.

"You won't be hearing from them— your little spirit guides or whatever you'd like to call them." Elliott said smugly as he popped open the last button and began to tease my shirt open. He wasn't looking at me, but rather at the skin revealed to him.

My spinning thoughts and panic screeched to a halt, trying to comprehend what he just said. How he knew anything about them. I didn't have to wait long for an answer as he finally looked me dead in the eyes with an unrecognizable grin of unkindness as he answered, "You don't have to rely on the likes of Sirius Black to teach you how to transfigure into your animagus state. I can teach you how to unlock the animal inside." He finished with what could have passed as a seductive grin on his handsome features that read as a threat to me instead.

He leaned down to whisper in a mocking tone, "How did I know that? I know a lot of things, Andrella. In fact, I wager at this point. I know all your dirty secrets. And you've been a very dirty girl, haven't you, Drella?"

He pulled back without warning, slashing his wand through the air, casting a nonverbal spell that sliced my clothes away. I gasped as the spell made contact with my skin, slicing through as easily as it did the fabric. I felt the sting, the rush of blood, but the pain was numbed by adrenaline. The unauthorized use of George's nickname for me added rage to fuel the temporarily immobilized fire inside.

Elliott looked at the blood rising on my chest with hunger he didn't bother to hide. He bent down and began lapping up the cuts he created. He moaned and hummed as he lashed his tongue against my wound, biting the cut to make it bleed more as his hands began to roam roughly over my naked body.

Shocked and panicked, I did the only thing I could think to do. I started trying to cast every spell I could think of nonverbally to see if any of them would slip through the cracks. I don't know how Elliott got his hands on these handcuffs but they were powerful. The more I fought to use my magic, the stronger he became, physically and magically. He was not gentle as he drank, pulled, and groped and it added to my panic. The breaking point was feeling his now unclothed erection pressing against my stomach menacingly.

I did the last thing I could think to do. My ultimate last resort. I called out to George in desperation. Please, George! Come to the library! I'm being attacked! I need your help, please!"

I closed my eyes as I tried to regain my breath. My panic attack wouldn't even help me if I didn't have access to magic. I took a second to picture the results if I did have access to even an ounce of my magic. How I could call the books to knock him out and bury him under the weight of their dark magic and cursed secrets. How I could cause such a commotion everyone in the library would come running to see how wrong everyone was about Elliot Napier. He wasn't a quiet, studious loner. Or at least he wasn't only that. He was also the boy who was currently forcing himself inside of me, trying to use his fingers to entice my body to give in to his will. He spent exactly one minute on the futile effort before he gave up.

It took less than thirty seconds for him to push apart my thighs and settle my legs into a favorable situation. It took less than fifteen seconds for him to settle back between them. It took less than five seconds for him to force himself inside. It then took him more than thirty seconds to get his bearings, stop his cursing, his ill willed praise of how good it felt to finally be inside me, the real me. How he knew the other version of me wasn't the real me. How it didn't feel right then. How this felt better than he ever imagined. How I felt better than he ever imagined. How this was so right, so tight, so perfect, so beautiful.

The spell he cast didn't rob me of my ability to produce tears. Even with my eyes closed I could feel them forming. How could this be happening again? How could I possess all the power of magical ancestry since Merlin himself and yet not be able to access any of it in my time of need? How could I be so stupid?

I opened my eyes just in time to see George at the end of the aisle, walking backwards. For a moment my heart flooded with joy, thinking I was saved. I prematurely began taking back my doubt and lack of faith. My magic had worked. George was here to rescue me. But no. There was horror on his face, but not outrage. Plenty of disgust, but no desire for revenge. He mistook the situation. He mistook my fear. He thought I wanted this.

No! Please, George. It's not what you think! I don't want this! He's–He's–" But I never got the chance to finish my pleading or give my explanation before George shook his head and fixed me with one cold glare before turning tail and running out the library. I heard his voice in my mind for what I figured would be the last time.

This is unforgivable. Don't ever call for me again. I will not come.

Once again, George didn't believe me. Once again, he left without letting me explain my situation. Only this time, he left me after I called out to him for help. This time, he left me on the ground, left me to be violated by a person who I thought was my friend.

Unforgivable.

Unforgivable violence, unforgivable ignorance.

An unkindness I would have deemed uncharacteristic to both of them. I took one moment to consider which betrayal stung worse. Elliott for raping me, or George for believing it was consenual and allowing it to happen.

Elliott made the decision for me as he lifted his head at last, grinning a cheshire grin, his pouty lips and dimpled cheeks and perfectly white teeth stained red with my blood.

"You want to know how I know it wasn't you in the showers?" Elliott taunted, licking his cheeks with his exceptionally long tongue. "Your blood. Didn't taste right. Polyjuice potion has a very distinct taste even diluted through blood. I knew my animagus influence was strong enough even in my human form to alert me of your presence. Just like it was strong enough to smell it when I cut you."

He leaned back down to lick up the new stream of blood that formed as he spoke, moving his hips to find a new angle that had me involuntary gasping. Once again he mistook it for pleasure instead of pain.

Elliott began to repeat his movements at a merciless pace until the pain became unbearable. It was like a fire bubbling just below my skin, every thrust of his stoking the flames. I felt the sweat begin to merge with the tears as the fire grew, the pressure building from the inside as much as it was pressing forcibly inside of me from the enemy disguised as an ally.

Elliott swore as he closed in on climax, hands reaching around my throat as he bore down inside of me with a sadistic pace. Carelessly, he applied enough pressure to make my vision go spotty. His selfish chase of climax paired with the physical threat to my safety was enough to release the pressure in an astounding and shocking way–a physical stream of fire burst through my mouth directly into Elliott's face, blasting him away from me.

I'm honestly not sure who was more shocked. Elliott, whose face was literally melting off from the continuous stream of fire still coming from my mouth like a dragon or Me, who was not burned or harmed by the fire at all. Also, like a dragon.

The fire was enough to break the spell and I knew I was able to free myself from the situation. I tried to run away but found myself falling forward on unfamiliar legs. Looking down I saw purple, green, and silver scales, looking from side to side I saw wings twinged with red and gold. Looking to my feet I saw black dragonhide with oil slick talons.

I didn't know how it was possible, but I know it was true. In fact, I knew a few things were true.

1. Somehow, I had transfigured into a dragon.

2. Somehow, I had managed to liquify Elliott Napier with all my fire breathing dragon power.

3. Somehow, I had to get out of the Library and Hogwarts unharmed.

4. Somehow, I had to figure out how to transfigure back into a human.

5. And I needed to do all of these things within the span of the next thirty seconds.

I didn't think of logistics, didn't think of a plan or anything remotely useful except: flee!

I allowed my Gryffindor bravado to propel me into a blind flight, batting my wings with ignorance and force enough to propel me through the library. I felt a rush as the air passed by me, my sight heightened yet confusingly foreign. I didn't stop to adjust, not caring if anyone was caught in my wake as I set course to the giant windows of the library main floor. I sent a prayer to Merlin that the glass wouldn't cut through my hide and that I was small enough to fit through. I sent a final plea to the sisters and dove.

XXX

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

Well…'Ello lovely readers.

I know, I know. Long time no see and I'm all to blame. And to top it off I come back with this?! I know, I'm cruel. And I'll be honest, part of the block I've been facing is how cruel this part of the story is going to be for Andi and George. But, I have to honor the story the way I always envisioned it. So, here we go.

Remember, the next chapter is going to be very short. It's only a scene. But a very revealing scene at that. Anyway. Off you trot.

Ex's & Oh's

Audrey V. Sullivan