Aaaand here is the next chapter! I hope you all enjoyed your holidays. I got to spend time with my younger half siblings that I rarely get to see, and it's so fun watching them open gifts. I was ridiculously busy all through December, buuut my only excuse for January is that I got extremely distracted by the Game of Thrones fandom. Like.. waaayyyy too into the Game of Thrones fandom. I am happy that it seems like I did alright on the harsher elements of the last chapter. I tried my best to approach them carefully and take them seriously. Stroke, I always appreciate your constructive criticism! Don't worry about that! I agree, I think since I am not pumping out chapters so quick I have more time to add unnecessary bits, and my English teachers always tell me I'm a bit "wordy". As for some disconnection, I can see what you mean as well. I'll try to make sure I'm properly back into the story every time I resume writing where I left off. Luckily! My best friend has just finished my story and she said she would beta for me. Well, she will help me edit after the fact when she has time, so any initial mistakes I apologize for. It's hard to catch your own mistakes because you kind of go on autopilot. I also intend to make a note of all the mistakes on the past chapters and get them edited (lol I know I always say that, but I'm just stating it again so it's clear I haven't forgotten). This chapter isn't too exciting, but I needed it to move forward. I will quit rambling on now. Happy reading!
I don't own anything from Harry Potter.
Ophelia Greengrass forcibly closed her mouth over the overwhelmed cry that was escaping her lips, the aftermath of her panic as well as immense confusion swarming her senses. She heard the door to the room she was dragged into being locked, and the one arm that had a hold on her steadied her so she wouldn't fall.
She was being held at the Enderson home, the home she had visited ever since the start of her Hogwarts years.
She felt herself being slowly pushed back and she looked up in bewilderment at Joseph Nott. He pushed her away from him until his arm was fully extended, his eyes traveling regretfully down her form as a disappointed grimace settled on his face when he finally ran out of limb to push her away with once his fingers were completely straightened.
"Out of all," he broke off to inhale slowly through his nose, his eyelids drooping in his lack of amusement as he dropped his arm to his side. "Nine of you. I stumble upon you. How silly of me to possibly hope for better considering how lovely my relationship with luck has been over the years."
Ophelia didn't care much for what the man was saying as she dropped herself forward to brace herself on her knees. She slowly became chillingly aware of her underwear still uncomfortably out of place. She sucked in a shaky breath, unable to breathe fully as she seemed to be gagging it down as the chill spread over her and stole the air from her lungs completely at the blunt reality she was forced to swallow. She wasn't distracted with her desperation to fight, to get away any longer. She wasn't in the blur of surrealism as she was when everything had happened so fast, too fast for her to process.
Instead she was in a silent, still room. The only sounds were the pitiful noises she was making as well as her screaming thoughts desperately denying and pleading to somehow rid herself of her violation.
She quieted as her thoughts did the same, growing numbingly cold as her body's wailing despairs slipped down into the hollowness and finality of her acceptance. Her mind seemed to draw a blank in its wonder of how to react once she became aware of the rest of her body, such as the sticky, metallic scented blood on her face that painted itself across her cheek to her chin and had streaked over her lips in its path. She recoiled backwards with a shudder when she subconsciously touched her tongue to corner of her mouth where blood had slightly pooled into the divot. She roughly rubbed her hand over her face only to gasp at the pain she found there. Her eyes had grown wide as she held her hands away from her body. She didn't know what to do with herself. She was dirty. The man's blood had soiled her, staining her with the spirit it would leave behind.
Dirty, just as they had always wanted her to believe herself to be.
Perhaps the man's death wasn't in vain to his cause after all seeing as she fit their vision on the surface now for everyone else to recognize what the pure-bloods had seen all along.
Her legs began to shake as her consciousness traveled down to assess the rest of her body. The stinging of her bloody and bruising knees was dull as she became aware of the small amount of drying substance on the skin of her upper thigh. It was a drying filth that did not match the fluid that covered the rest of her, an even more revolting fluid. There was such a small amount of it in comparison to everything else responsible for her uncleanliness.
Such a small amount, and yet it may as well have covered every inch of her with how it shattered her sanity, shattered her current weak hold on herself.
She was suddenly very aware of the discomfort between her legs. It was a dull and unfamiliar pain that held the ghost of the man's fingers. Such an invasive pain, a complete violation of her body that she could not even hope to wash off as she could the rest.
Blood pure or not it didn't matter anymore. She was truly filthy inside and out regardless of her birth.
Her vision darkened as she felt her face pale as nausea rolled through her, collapsing down onto her throbbing knees as she puked. She coughed and gagged on her vomit as she became hysterical, sobbing through her sickness. Her cries almost sounded confused as they came with her panting breath, confused with how it was possible that the blows of her misfortunes kept assaulting her harder and harder. She clutched the sides of her head as her vomiting fell into dry heaving until her stomach stopped its rejection to the nastiness that clung to her as well as crept its way inside of her. She whimpered out loudly, oddly, as if the sound had meant to come out in an angry scream but only managed to be another broken cry.
"Listen to me."
She jumped at the low snarl that was startlingly close to her ear. She blinked up through her tears at the blurred, dark form kneeling over her, towering over her.
"I'm only moments from slapping you out of your hysterics, and I would greatly prefer to avoid getting your mess on my hand, so enough."
She immediately moved her face down to her arms so she could guard it at his threat. A whimpering plea for him not to hit her hurried passed her lips. She was unable to process anything beyond how she wanted the horrific pains to end, both physical and mental. She needed to catch her breath, she needed a second to process.
Just a few moments of mercy.
"Then pull yourself together so I can find my son and you can find your prized blood traitor alive. Were you raped? Surely if you were raped your husband would know and you would know that he knows. Is he alive?"
No, no she wasn't raped. It could be worse. It could be worse. She had to get it together, she couldn't curl in on herself as if she could afford the lost time.
It could get worse.
She would only be caught again. This man didn't care what happened to her. He would likely leave her there once he knew she knew nothing of his son's location, perhaps even hand her over to their captors himself. Then her husband, her husband.. she couldn't imagine him wanting her after this when she didn't want herself.
She didn't want to move, didn't want to fight, didn't want to leave the safety of the room. She would lose if she tried to win, and then it would get worse.
Her pitiful thoughts halted when the man's words replayed in her head, reminding her of the fact Edric would know of what had happened, how she had been touched especially. She was sure she would probably have been able to feel him react had she not been reacting so strongly to everything else herself.
On numb and reluctant limbs she shoved herself off of the ground, her eyes searching blindly as she reentered her own mind properly after she had tried to eject herself from it. She focused herself on her magic, pulling it forward to her attention, imagining it as if it were a thread. Ophelia had always struggled with connecting to her magic in such a way due to the fact she was not raised as a pure-blood. Pure-bloods still made use of the old ceremonies such as marriage bonds, which many modernized witches and wizards had left behind due to the fact that manipulating the core of your magic so much held many risks especially when tying them to another. Especially when it came to marriage bonds as they were quite one sided and in the man's favor.
Of course her husband was a traditional pure-blood through and through aside from his love for a muggle-born. He had never strayed much from his original beliefs despite the years he had been living more in her world while completely blocked from his own apart from his work with foreigners. Edric did respect privacy however, and when he had manipulated their magic together he was careful it was not overly invasive. She knew there were many ways to take hold of another's magic when permitted depending on the level of knowledge a person held on how to do so. Some of the ways were very disturbing, and it was even said that a person was capable of taking bits of another's magic, almost feeding on it.
It had felt very unnatural to her to begin with when he first grasped onto hers. He had been focused and steady as he held onto the thread of it more confidently than she had ever managed and it wasn't even his own magic. It wasn't a horrible feeling, but the unfamiliarity of it and the breathtaking vulnerability had thrown her off at first. She imagined it was close to the feeling of being held from behind with a blade pushed against her jugular. She wasn't sure if physical threats quite measured up to a threat towards one's essence. It was not that she didn't trust Edric, he could hold her from behind with a knife to her throat and she wouldn't flinch, but she knew how knives and throats operated. She was only acquainted with old magical practices.
Her discomfort had made her husband retract his strong advances, telling her that her relationship with her own magic was too important for him to impose his own when she didn't understand it enough to know whether or not she wanted it. It had hurt to know she was so different than the type of woman he was meant to be with, had hurt to know how much she didn't understand her own magic the way those witches did. Marriage bonds were such an incredibly intimate concept, and to Edric they were a vital part of marriage. It had warmed her that he respected her more than his strong beliefs and also sought to be unlike his father who invaded everyone thoughtlessly. She was also disappointed in herself that she didn't work harder to understand them. Her own insecurities and embarrassment had made her hesitant. He still strengthened their bonds to a point, which was why she had felt him when his emotions were at their most extreme. He could feel her much easier not because he had made their connection favor his own knowledge, but because it was so natural to him. If Ophelia wanted to use them it took her much effort, and unless he was abnormally emotional she knew she would find nothing. He had taught her how to call to him through the bonds should the need arise, and she desperately hoped she had not been successful when she had done so in her panic during her assault. Obviously he would have known what was going on. Her distress call would only have been further torture to him.
She pursed her lips, catching onto the faint pulsating of her husband's string of magic, recognizing his fury and despair before she lost the connection a moment later. She felt her eyebrows come together in worry that brought fresh tears to her eyes. She was desperate to go to him to know if he was alright, desperate for him to know she was-
She wasn't alright. She had just accepted that, had just wished to remain on the floor and give up on her will to keep fighting.
Ophelia grit her teeth, cursing herself for being weak enough to be so selfish as well as low enough to believe Edric wouldn't want her anymore after she had been violated by another man against her will.
"He's alive," she said quietly, interrupting the angry wizard who hadn't stopped seething at her despite how she hadn't been listening to him. "Edric."
The man broke off his ranting, pulling his head back away from her space and straightening. He looked down at her with cold and incredibly impatient eyes, inhaling slowly. His lip curled ever so slightly as he pulled in his breath before he rubbed his teeth together.
"If I have to shout at you for ten minutes as you simper in a fetal position every time I ask you a single question then I will spare myself the extra, needless weight you will be adding to me."
She swallowed as she furthered her efforts to compose herself in response to his words, training her eyes to the floor and nodding slowly. "Does that mean you plan on staying with me while we help each other look for them?"
He snorted loudly in disgust, a short laugh leaving his mouth at the end. She turned to him in aggravation, giving him a once over in her offense. "You're acting as though I grabbed you and shoved you into a dark room," she ground out, her voice still weak and worn from her expressions of grief as she struggled to find the wand she had stollen from the man she had murdered.
Murdered.
"My motives for rescuing you are my own concern, girl, but I will happily take the opportunity to decide against them should you continue to make it clear that you are not worth it."
"Rescuing me?" She demanded in a half hysterical laugh as she held out a trembling arm to begin clearing the blood off with the wand, struggling to steady her hand enough.
"Indeed," he told her blandly, moving forward and snatching the wrist of the arm she was attempting to clean. "Unless you believe yourself capable of leaving this room, finding your little disgrace, and escaping on your own?"
Her protests caught in her throat as she stumbled forward at the pull of her arm, fear tensing her body. He lifted his own wand and began clearing the blood for her. He was surprisingly careful about it, despite the careless way he had approached helping her. She let him take her other arm, looking away from him while she shook her head.
"I escaped that man on my own, and I don't put you above using me as a decoy or anything else that would aid your own escape."
There was another snort before the chin of her throbbing face was grabbed and guided in his desired directions. "Based on your face alone I would say you barely escaped one of them while nearly being raped in the process. You believe you could escape more? They will not pause while you pity yourself on the floor as I did."
She stared at him in surprise when a warmth spread through her face at the end of his wand after he had washed away the blood and filth. The warmth of the healing spell gratefully dulled the thought distracting pains.
"I've seen worse, but don't expect miracles. You'll likely still feel pain, but hopefully you'll be fine to function without tripping me up," he quipped, dropping her chin before snatching the front of her robes to move them out of the way.
She attempted to retract herself from his grip immediately, staring at him wildly as he gave her another impatient look with exasperation adding to his expression.
"Your knees are bleeding, you idiot girl. I can promise you your body has nothing to offer me. If you preferred a more tender approach to being healed then perhaps you shouldn't have spent my patience on doddling, not to mention the nausea you have inflicted with the vomit you sprayed the walls with."
She held both hands up stiffly, directing him to wait as she bared her skin herself. As she moved the fabric away she grimaced at how badly her knees did in fact sting when her clothing brushed against them. She glanced down at the floor where she had puked, noticing the mess was gone much to her relief. She felt disgusting enough as it was.
The stinging faded and she felt him wash the blood from her knees. Before she had time to react he had aimed his spells uncomfortably high up her legs before swiftly standing straight once more. She quickly dropped her robes before turning away from him as she remembered she needed to pull her underwear back up the rest of the way. She numbly reached under robes to fix them, feeling a deep sense of shame and humiliation. She had told him that he hadn't raped her, but she supposed he didn't believe her or at the very least assumed he had gotten close seeing as he thought it necessary to bring the spell all the way up her legs. Was it so clear she had been soiled by another man that a mere stranger could see?
"Now, I have only the faintest knowledge of the set up of this home, but I was only here once or twice as a teenager. Enderson was-"
They both went stiff, listening silently as voices were heard from down the hall. It was as if the mention of her name had summoned her.
"… mudbloods we have in our possession at the moment there is no reason for him to be toying with the one I'm actually using. I don't need him roughing her up too much before her husband gets the chance. You say they are in that room on the right? It looks like the door is open."
Ophelia's face flushed with the heat of her anger and she felt her hands tremble with fury as opposed to the sadness she would expect at the sound of Violet's voice. She struggled to keep her shaky voice hushed as she spoke to the man pressing them both into a concealed corner.
"I may know a thing or two about the house."
Daphne Pucey held her breath as she squirmed slightly over Adrian's lap in her impatience while he slowly and carefully examined the back of her head. She didn't care about being hurt. She just wanted to be held by him as close as he could manage. Her head throbbed like mad, and she couldn't stop replaying the sound of the impact it had made against the merciless ground.
At least the screaming pain had distracted her from the amoral show she was forced to participate in with her baby sister.
Men were awful, awful creatures who lacked any decent amount of shame when it came to their dicks, no matter how ashamed they ought to be.
She looked up to meet Adrian's eyes when he lowered her head back down carefully, regret shining loudly in his gaze. She was stunned at the amount of unconcealed emotion his eyes held, making the greens and deep browns that made the hazel color of them much more prominent somehow. She found herself admiring them despite everything else that needed her focus. His expression had always held at least some sort of humor or relaxed ease aside from the few times she had seen him cold and angry. She had seen him look at her before with affection and seriousness, but nothing to this extent, nothing that put her in the slightest of dazes like the one she was being drawn into then.
Well, she had just had her head split open.
Her musings were cut short when she felt her lower lip begin to quiver, tears clouding his caring face from her vision as she began breaking down. She heard him suck in a stuttering breath as he adjusted her on his lap so she could straddle him while he gathered her body against his gingerly. She cringed a bit as she moved to wrap her arms around him. He tightened his hold on her when he heard her labored pant as she stretched her torso, paining her ribs where she had been kicked.
She choked out a small cry of protest when he tried to pull back to assess her again, fisting the back of his shirt to hold him tightly in place the best she was able.
"Daphne," he started in a pained voice. "I want to see and know everywhere you're hurt."
She shook her head, ignoring how it protested at her movements and nuzzled her nose into his shoulder, inhaling the comforting and wonderful scent of him while feeling his warm skin beneath the fabric.
"Let me be for a moment," she told him, her words muffled against him. "It's nothing."
"It isn't nothing," he expressed, the broken desperation in his tone making her frown. "None of this is nothing. These things aren't meant to happen to you. I'm not meant to allow these things to happen to you. We have allies for a reason, most of which are hiding out, but there are.. some that I should have taken advantage of, and I-"
"Don't," she insisted, cutting off his rambling that sounded so odd to her ears after being used to his way of nearly always making a joke of every situation. "It isn't your fault, and you should be hiding out as well. Then I happened."
"Right," he bitterly chuckled quietly to himself. "I'm a piece of shit. How could I forget? No, Daphne. I shouldn't have been hiding out. I should have been marrying your uptight arse and protecting you properly instead of making you feel at fault for giving my life something worth actually caring about."
"Something aside from your dick you mean?" She mumbled, hiding her elation at how clearly he cared about her and that she wasn't replaceable to him. She was more than just his property that he didn't want broken or stolen.
"Do you not relate directly to my dick, treacle?" He asked innocently, his more recognizable demeanor returning.
She laughed lightly, ignoring the protest in her side before pulling back and attempting to tug his head down so she could kiss him. She glared when he held it back and tugged harder.
"Sorry, you just have your sister's crusty blood on your lips," he told her while licking his thumb and wiping at her mouth. She quickly turned her face away, making a sound of disgust.
"Thank you for reminding me why I never initiate intimacy with you," she huffed, wiping her mouth with her own hand.
His hands came up to cradle her face, turning it back towards him. His expression had dropped into sincerity and concern once more and he lowered his head to kiss her. Her eyes began to fill again as she closed them to kiss him back, moving her hands to rest against his chest as her emotions returned to her. Her tears came from both a happy place and a devastated place. She scooted herself forward in Adrian's lap in hopes to bring the relieved and affectionate feelings above the ones of her despair and fear. Despite his words, Adrian didn't seem to care about anything on her mouth, and his softer kisses deepened and became more desperate when she pushed herself closer to him, squeezing her thighs around his waist.
She jumped considerably in his lap at the sounds of fighting registering in her ears and she broke her mouth from his. Her heart leapt into her throat when she turned her head to see the scene between Edric and Theo. She winced, digging her fingers into Adrian's chest in response to the pain from her jerky movements, her eyes widening at her brother's threats.
"Nott, please shut up," she said loudly in alarm. "What is wrong with you? Let him go, Edric. He was tortured for me, we owe him now."
We, was it?
No, they weren't a "we" in any sense with Edric. She had to remember that.
"Be careful," Adrian told her and took the opportunity to move his hands down to the area she had been kicked.
She looked down at his hands, still not completely willing to immerse herself back into the stress that was the conflict their group was in. His hand was lightly running over her dress that was well hitched up over her waist carelessly as she straddled him. She attempted to pull it up further and above her ribs, unconcerned with the others.
They had just watched her snog her sister. It couldn't get much more humiliating for her.
He made a grunt of disapproval, stopping her hands as he adjusted himself so he was between her and the rest of them, hiding most of her from their vision.
"I will do it. Be still," he murmured, inching the dress up her lower stomach. "And then I suppose we ought to join them in their discussion of how to avoid death. You want little Pucey brats in the future, hmm?"
She pressed her lips together, scowling as she continued to allow the conversations in the room to fall off of her ears as she focused on Adrian. "I'd rather just not move and ignore them."
"Yes, well. It's not new for a woman to want to straddle me for the rest of her life, but I'm afraid life just doesn't offer that level of bliss."
He stared at her skin once he had uncovered her ribs, his eyes fogging over as he became very still and the hand that fisted her dress began to shake slightly. She peered down to examine herself with him, finding the fresh red bruising already bright and prominent over the bottom of the ribs on her side. It did look quite nasty, and she supposed he had kicked her decently hard, but she also bruised very easily. It hurt much more when she had hit her head.
"It's not that bad," she sighed. "It just looks bad. I'm pale, and I'm sure I'm still a bit malnourished."
"It hasn't even had much time to fully form yet," he told her coldly before moving his hand towards her lower hip and then her thigh where other signs of faint bruises were forming. None of the rest were nearly as bad as the one that spread across her ribs. "Clearly they took the liberty of being as careless as possible bringing you down here and chaining you up."
He was quiet for a while, running his finger lightly over the scraping on her thighs and knees due to being dragged over the ground. He silently pulled her dress back down. He looked incredibly guilty and furious with himself. She grabbed one of his hands when he didn't meet her eyes for many moments, dropping and angling her head up to force him to look at her.
"I'm okay, Adrian," she told him, searching his eyes as she squeezed his hand that she was holding in both of hers. "I would take this over being married to some ancient who would have just tossed me into a spare bedroom and only bothered with me to fuck me and have me smile for dinner guests. Not to mention how he'd smack me about if I sneezed in public or didn't laugh hard enough at his jokes. Actually, I'd probably have this bruising anyway since we both know I'd have been handed off to someone vile if I wanted a decent name considering my tarnished reputation. I would take being here with you now over not having you at all. I wouldn't.. Have anything in my life worth caring about without you either."
She gave him a firm look when she was finished, bringing his hand up to kiss it before raising her eyebrows and giving him a feigned serious look. "And let's not forget that you were named number one in 'Top of the Galleons' list of most handsome bachelors."
He pursed his lips as he looked up and passed her thoughtfully before squinting and nodding slowly. "You know, I wasn't sold on your speech till that last bit, but you're right. You are one lucky bitch."
"Mhm." She rolled her eyes but smiled sadly when he pressed his lips to her forehead after his expression replaced itself with emotional sincerity, holding them there for a moment before pulling away.
She slowly began to push herself from his lap and he carefully moved to help her up, shifting his arm around her gently so she could lean her full weight against him as she stood.
She looked down at Astoria warily, concerned for her as well as a bit uneasy. She had of course witnessed Astoria in her colder moments, seen the harshness she was capable of, but what she had done to the man had thrown her off.
The way she had performed her father's tricks the way she had, effortlessly and practiced while her voice took on that eerie, resonant sound that commanded compliance was concerning. She supposed at surface level the twisted little Legilimency game her father played seemed something like the Imperius Curse, but it wasn't as simple as that. It was not a pleasant fog that one was placed in while they were commanded about. Instead it was first an invasive act of taking a hold of the mind to bend it. The less firm the person's will the easier it was to control it. It was made easier by plucking the person's insecurities and doubts, even the most faint and deeply buried that the victim may not be aware of themselves. Once having a firm grip on their insecurities, emotions, inner desires, and everything that makes up a person's mind according to her father's words the victim would be nothing more than a puppet. Even after the influence of the magic is gone, once a mind has been invaded in such a way the advantage of the magic remains well after.
Astoria had spoken her ideas on the man's inner doubts out loud because she didn't need to get into his head to assume them. She was talented at that, was trained to be talented at that. Using Legilimency awarded the target a bit of preparation seeing as unless someone was a born Legilimens it was quite noticeable when thoughts and memories were pulled forward.
Her father had taught Daphne about directing someone through Legilimency but it had only ended in her breaking down into tears when the most foreign pain had violated her head. She had also started shaking in how disturbed she had been, pleading with him to teach her something else.
He didn't try to have her to do it again, and Daphne liked to make herself believe it was out of mercy and not out of disappointment or lack of faith that she was capable of such a difficult talent.
It wasn't only painful, but it felt wrong and unnatural to take over someone's will in such a way. By forcing her own mind into another's went beyond a controlling spell. The mind was only meant to occupy one. It was the only place that was always meant to guarantee privacy and complete ownership and he took that away. Her mother always taught her to keep ownership of her own wills and thoughts and not allow them to be bent at the words of others.
But her mother's own mind was completely owned by her husband. He didn't have to read all of her thoughts for that to be true. He knew everything it contained and how it functioned, what hurt it, what excited it. He could pull painful memories or emotions to the surface, could magnify them. He could also take them away, just as he could take away happy memories and feelings. Everything that made a person whole or broken, everything that made a person content or miserable he could take away, double, twist, break apart into pieces. Anything he willed he was able.
It was absolutely terrifying.
She knew Edric was talented at it and she knew Edric had done plenty of their father's dirty work. She wasn't an idiot. She may have been excluded from most of her family's secrets but she was still in the family and lived in that pristine home. Her older brother had always had duties in the home, was always a man of the house that maintained the family name's understated power. A power never meant to attract attention, but only illicit respect. That lack of attention is what kept their family safe from suspicion. Truly she knew that the amount of blood on the hands of the members of the Greengrass line ought to be seeping from their Mansion's walls.
These truths were the reason Edric had always simply been seen as a charming, well mannered young man. Just the same as her father was seen as a charming, well mannered man. Neither of them were ostentatious or incredibly extroverted like her husband. She knew both of them were not nearly the masks they wore and knew they were unflinching when it came to dark acts.
But it was not Edric who had just seized a man's will so fiercely that he had surrendered his wand to her in front of his prisoners and left himself at her mercy.
Edric had only lightly used the mind tricks that oddly bothered Daphne above all on their captor, but it was Astoria who used them so blatantly. She was sure the man must have practically seen his pride being ripped to shreds in front of his eyes, not to mention the pride of his family name. She should be proud of Astoria. She was, but still she did not fancy seeing her baby sister use magic so unnatural, so line crossing to the point it was almost unfair, no matter who it was being used against. She was sure most would find it perplexing that she wasn't as disturbed by Astoria murdering a man but to her they were two different offenses entirely.
Daphne had been more raised by her mother, she supposed.
She felt her gaze drop to her lap while painfully remembering the memory her father had put in her head of their exchange when she was so little. The memory he had forced into her had been a happy one, which may have been bearable if its experience was the same as a Pensieve, but no. She had felt him through it. His thoughts, his mind, his love, his offense at her mother fearing he would treat her poorly simply for wanting his attention.
He had loved her undoubtedly and the knowledge made her loathe him more for his sins.
Wrong. She didn't loathe him. Not fully, and the fact made her loathe herself.
He was her father and she still recalled her adoration for him as a child. An adoration that didn't match Astoria's desperate will to please him, to earn his pride in her. No, she simply loved him and only wanted his love in return, only to continue to receive less and less of it over the years. To slowly take away their love piece by piece so plainly and obviously was a cruelty she doubted most parents capable of.
Did he have no shame?
If only he were to have chosen his family over his obsessive games and need to control everyone and everything. If only he had chosen to let them be a decent family. She didn't even need them to be a good family. She could settle for dysfunctional family dynamics that many of the pure-bloods had.
It was a simple request, wasn't it? To not torture every member of his family and crush his children into a million pieces? The standards were so low.
Apparently not low enough.
Yanked from her thoughts that ought to be tended to after they escaped death, Daphne quickly dug her fingers into Adrian's arm at the sound of Marius coming back into the room. Her breath was stuck in her throat as she chilled with fear, expecting more Death Eaters to be following him. Her husband halfway stepped in front of her, his body tense and his face cold towards the man approaching. Marius watched Astoria with a fierce resentment in his eyes as he offered her their wands, allowing her to pluck out her own before passing out the rest of them. She stared after Edric and dug her fingers into Adrian's flesh harder in alarm as her brother immediately left to the large door, not waiting to form any sort of plan or ask the man about the situation before he disappeared from the cell as if he were a ghost that could float through the walls.
"Blaise, get the fuck back here. Don't be an idiot. You don't have a mudblood to scamper off to."
"Yes, if you'd like to live I would suggest-"
"Oh, are you helping us now? You didn't help us when your sweet brother was tormenting us. Now that you're bored and the show is over. Hope you enjoyed it," Daphne seethed.
Foolish. It'd be wiser not to begin snapping at the only person present to know how to escape from their situation. But she couldn't help her temper, not after what had been done.
"I didn't." His voice was level as he replied but still cool.
"Can we apparate once upstairs?"
He looked back to Astoria, sizing her up while inhaling in consideration. "I'd like my wand back now."
Astoria took it from Draco and handed it to him without hesitation. There were throaty sounds of protests throughout the room, and nearly all of them had their eyes wide with disbelief and frustration.
"And what do you believe I would do, hmm? With only me against all of you?"
"Hmmm.. Oh, I don't know, perhaps have your comrades be waiting outside to come in after you've gotten your wand back? Just the first plot I can come up with," Adrian said.
"Do you believe they care enough about my wand to allow me to risk returning all of yours before coming to recapture you? Don't be ridiculous. It would be stupid to make it known to them I allowed you to get this far."
Astoria waved a hand in an almost comical way, her face screwing up impatiently. "Marius. Can we apparate once upstairs?"
"You can't, no. You'd have to get off Enderson's land. It's not too large, can't hold a candle to the land Malfoy owns."
Astoria's eyebrows pulled together in a scowl for a quick moment at the way he excluded her from having ownership over the Malfoy property before she quickly dropped the look and nodded before turning to look at Draco.
"We'll go in couples. No point in trying to get around in a large group," he sighed, rubbing a hand over his face.
Astoria looked back to Marius. "Which is the quickest way out? If you would, it would be appreciated if you were to look out and make sure no one is near the door when-"
"Oh, yes. I love this 'let's see how many times we can trust the little bitch that chained us to the unsanitary ground before it backfires and he gets us killed' game. Forgot how much little children love to play games," Blaise growled with his eyes narrowed into slits as he stared at Astoria.
"I have yet to make poor judgement," she snapped back irritably, earning a loud snort from him.
"Oh? Are you speaking of only these past hours or the past few months? Because I-"
"Enough," Draco sneered as he gave Blaise an irritable, withering look.
"I don't know, Greengrass. Are you going to keep my name out of your mouth after you escape and run to the aurors?"
"Of course." Astoria frowned and looked him up and down in slight offense. "Why would I expose you after you did what I asked?"
"That wouldn't be the Greengrass way," Daphne drawled in an exaggerated accent, rolling her eyes.
"Will you shut up," Astoria sighed as she shot her an aggravated look, shaking her head.
"I may trust you. I don't trust the rest of your lot."
"Ha! And the rest of her lot doesn't trust you, the pathetic little fucker that imprisoned us."
"We don't have time for this," Draco said coolly in response to Blaise's unproductive fuming as he stepped forward and passed Astoria. "I couldn't care even the smallest bit less whether or not you trust us. You will help us out of here or you will die." His voice was soft in his threat and Daphne had never seen him look quite so intimidating. "Either way, you will be made useful. Personally, I would choose to avoid the Imperius curse followed by death shortly after, but I'll allow you the freedom of choice."
"Hmm. This will be a rather difficult decision considering all of the appealing options you have presented me."
"Think death should accompany both options if it were up to me," Theo said, clearly still shaken from both the Cruciatus curse and assault from Edric.
Astoria clicked her tongue. "Such a shame it isn't up to you."
Daphne expected him to retort with a sneer or some sarcastic comment. Instead, Theo averted his eyes from all of them with a solemn look to his face and his shoulders moved noticeably in a sigh.
She could only hope the idiot was coming to his senses and realizing what a twat he had been to Astoria.
"Must be hard realizing that you're a fucking arsehole," Adrian sighed in false sympathy.
"So," Marius started in an almost bored tone. "should I go now to watch for a good opportunity, or am I to wait until you're all finished squabbling and being quiet? Or perhaps you wish to carry on bickering once upstairs and make things a bit more exciting for yourselves."
Aldrich Greengrass firmly pulled Freya back from the edge of the ward lines as the aurors disapparated. His eyes scanned the greenery attentively as did both Puceys and Nott while they scattered themselves on the length of the property. No one had been spotted. To him that only meant that more care was required in their situation.
"Aren't you leaving, Aldrich?"
She willed him to leave, of course she did. Their son was there.
"No. I will not leave until my children are safe. You are also coming with me when I do decide to leave, as it seems you've taken great liberties since I've been away."
Freya was quiet as they walked back towards the Manor. He could feel her struggling with what she planned to say to him.
"Speak freely, Freya. I know you're itching for it."
"Speak freely with no negative repercussions to fear?" She asked, taking his upper arm. "Repercussions that I would deem negative?"
Aldrich looked down at her, his eyes catching on her familiar features that had yet to dull in beauty to him. "Clever. Yes, you may speak freely and I will not punish you."
"Daphne-"
"Is fine. I did nothing to her despite her disgusting display of blatant disrespect."
"Why did you allow Draco to keep the Pensieve?" She ground out her words and he felt her shame burning through their combined magic.
"Well, I thought I had it appropriately controlled in what it allowed others to see. I was wrong."
"You were wrong?"
"Watch your tone, Freya. I directed you to speak freely. I did not direct you to show me disrespect. Clearly Daphne is only mirroring behavior."
"How could you let our children see that? Our children? Of all the cruel things-"
"I didn't intend for them to see anything vile," he cut her off calmly, tensing at the way she was rushing her words out.
"Vile," she nearly laughed, swallowing hard as she did when she was attempting to hold back tears. "At least you know how vile we are."
"What's done is done. Nothing productive will come from you going on about it. Now I must sort through what is known and who it is known to. Obviously quite a few others have been floating about, and I've no idea what they've seen. Did Nott mention anything about it when you went to visit him, darling?"
Freya flinched, causing her hand to slightly squeeze around his arm.
"Foolish woman. You should know better. You think I wouldn't know should you decide to step foot in another man's home?"
"I hoped you would be too busy to notice."
"Hmm," he mused. "At least you do not try to lie further. Still, you lied to me all the same."
"You know I wouldn't be unfaithful to you, Aldrich."
He snorted loudly, a breathy scoff leaving his mouth. "Don't be absurd. Nothing in this world could distract me enough from noticing even the faintest of touches you give another man. I am confident you know that. Besides, if you had any lingering desires I would know as much as well. No, you are mine and I am yours. That is certain. It does not erase your dishonesty."
"What did Daphne say to you?"
"Oh? You don't wish to spend more time on the topic of you lying to your husband?"
Freya stopped walking and Aldrich pressed his lips together in irritation at the fact he also had to halt due to her hold on him. "What did Daphne say? What did you say back to her? Please. I will tell you about Joseph, but please.. Let us discuss our children first."
"She came to me yelling and crying about how I apparently make it my personal goal in life to make you all miserable, that our foolish son was more of a father than I am, that I don't love any of you, and informed me that she no longer wishes to be a part of this family."
Freya was rigid for many moments and Aldrich's eyes dropped to slits as fear began to seep off of her.
He had done nothing to Daphne for her offensive fit, absolutely nothing. Yet, there his wife was. Always acting as though he enjoyed hurting his children.
"Please forgive her, Aldrich. Please. You know she is an emotional-"
"I've forgiven her," he cut her off coldly. "I did not touch her. I did not degrade her into pieces as I've heard you do plenty of times, you hypocritical woman. I did not threaten her, nor do I have any plans of punishment. It might surprise you, my love, but I don't particularly enjoy harming my daughters."
"Except for when you tortured Astoria until she lost consciousness," she said softly, adding only a hint of voice to her near whisper. "Which is what Daphne witnessed."
"And you believe I enjoyed that?" He asked her, his voice calm as he held onto his wits.
"I believe you gained sick satisfaction by making me delirious with my own daughter's suffering as punishment which was so much lower than I ever thought you capable of, and I thought you capable of very low." She attempted to keep her tone from darkening and turning harsh, but he could hear it all the same. He could hear her coming through her false personality that she loathed so much. "But no, I don't believe you enjoyed it. I know you didn't because the moment you came back to our home and into our bed where I was meant to lay and wait, silent and dutiful, I could feel your regret. Something I've never felt from you. It was only a bigger slap in the face after everything you did to all of us that night. How dare you regret damaging our children just hours after your offenses! How dare you do that to our children purely out of your loss of temper! Our children, Aldrich. We raised them together. From infants. How could you.. How could you possibly be capable of lacking such humanity? How did you do it? Listen to Astoria's screams under your hand? And then just leave her alone, unable to hear or see, where I couldn't find her. How? I knew the amount of life in her she had wouldn't last long, but I never imagined you would rip her spirit out of her so young. For what? For what, Aldrich?"
He watched her, his eyes flicking back and forth between her eyes as he searched them. His breath was uneven and he found himself fighting to control himself again. Her words were not anything she hadn't thought many, many times over. She had thought much worse about him, and there was a time where he reveled in it. He had tired of it years ago but had ignored that fact in attempt to hold on to his safer mind, his more powerful mind that didn't concern himself with her approval.
"I would say," she continued, her voice falling into softness. "that I don't care what you do to me if I continue to speak my mind, despite you telling me I was allowed. I would say that there as nothing more you can take from me. I would say that. Most would believe it. But as you warned me, darling, it can always get worse, can't it? You've proven that to be true time and time again."
"Are you finished?"
She watched him, her eyes not once wavering from his. He may have broken her in a thousand different ways, but he could never break her fierceness. No man was powerful enough for that. He had only caged it, left it simmering under the surface. He reached for her, expecting the familiar flinch from her as he placed his hand on the side of her face, circling his thumb over the skin. Wariness and strong anticipation was flowing between them.
Was she really expecting him to strike her?
Cruelty was all he and her family had taught her to expect, he supposed.
"Are you finished?" She asked.
Her voice remained soft but it had slightly wavered with animosity. He blinked calmly, continuing to stroke the skin of her cheek as he hummed out a questioning sound.
"Are you finished gaining satisfaction through my pain? Getting off on it?"
His eyebrows twitched together and his mouth slightly turned down at her question. It wasn't a question he would never expect from her, but it still made him falter.
"I gain satisfaction through order, Freya. Don't act as though you don't know me when we've been married for-"
"Yes, I know that you believe it necessary to be merciless when it comes to your control no matter who it is, but I know you thrive on my pain. It's why you wanted me in the first place. It's why you insist on leaving my scars on your arms from the night you took my chance at peace. You need me and my turmoil, you need to feel it. Otherwise we would end up as breathing corpses like your parents. Too late, Aldrich. Your plan didn't work. We're almost there. We're almost them." She grit her teeth, breaking her gaze to stare at the ground next to them as she shook her head. "You and my brother, both of you use me for the same thing. I've accepted it, but stop bringing my children into it."
"I am not your brother."
"That's not what I said."
He looked at her hand that had clasped onto his wrist and faintly squeezed him as he still hadn't moved his hand from her face.
"Please, Aldrich. Please ignore your word for once. For me. I've given everything I am to you."
He tried to drop his hand, quickly stoning over his concerns for her accusations. She kept hold of it and stepped closer to him. The muscles of his jaw worked and twitched at the pleading in her eyes.
"Do not try and manipulate me, my love. It is foolish and a waste of your time."
"I'm not trying to manipulate you. I'm not idiot. You know I'm not an idiot." Her voice was desperate and weak, out of character. "Don't take one of my children from me."
"He is my child just as he is yours. They are all our children, and I am the head of our family. I choose to hold it together as I see fit."
"He is your child which is why you can't really want this. Don't regret another wrong you've committed to our children."
"Enough of this. You are well aware-"
"He never wanted to leave! You sent him away! You gave him an impossible choice! He was a boy, how could he let his pregnant lover be murdered by his own choice? You are his father. He is your blood. You love him."
"At his age I would have made the correct choice."
"He's not you! He isn't you because we aren't your parents, and you never wanted us to be your parents. He wasn't raised like you. He isn't you and you didn't want him to be, and yet you envy him because he isn't."
"I envy him?"
"You envy him," she repeated, still holding onto his frozen wrist as he took all of her words in. "You wish you could have escaped, you wish you loved some foolish girl, you wish you had a mother that cried for you when you were gone, you wish your daughters saw you as they saw him, you wish you had the heart that made it impossible to let an innocent girl die, you wish you weren't you because you hate yourself."
"I don't wish to love some foolish girl," he denied the only thing he was able, regretting his decision to allow her verbal honesty. He did not want to hear it. "I am content loving an intelligent one. Stop attempting to get under my skin. Stop attempting to manipulate me with my emotions. It won't work, you should know that by now."
He removed his wrist from her grasp and walked away from her. He should have stopped her from speaking. He didn't. He wasn't able to be angry with her seeing as he had agreed he wouldn't. He should not have agreed to that. He needed to get away from her, he needed to get his thoughts organized. This was precisely why he didn't allow emotional confrontations and he had dealt with two, one following right behind the other.
He let out a frustrated breath through his nose, confused at himself and impatient.
"You've never told me that before."
"Told you what."
Why was she following him? She knew better than to follow him, Daphne knew better than to follow him. Everything was tense, and he felt locked inside his body as anxiety began to overwhelm him.
"That you love me."
"Don't be ridiculous," he scoffed, dismissive. "You know I do. I don't say it because you are intelligent enough to know. Our magic is so closely knit that there is hardly anything you don't know. You know, but you choose to ignore it."
A sound from the back of his throat was made when he was pulled back by his arm. His eyes flashed before they darkened and he whirled around, grabbing both of her wrists and yanking her against his chest. "The territories you are crossing into are dangerous," he told her coldly. "Proceed carefully."
"Please," she asked again, closing her eyes. "I will get on my knees if you'd like."
"No," he said, his tone instantly falling dull. "If I had interest in that you'd already be on them. Accept that you aren't going to get what you want, Freya."
"I never get what I want."
"I understand that dramatics are a part of your infamous character, my lovely wife, but you may spare me of them."
He was bewildered when she still didn't react with radiating hatred. Where was her anger? Instead he felt her tremble in his grasp as all other emotion fell from her eyes, leaving only terror behind as the finality of what was to come processed in her head. He set his jaw at the lurch in his stomach, infuriated at the woman for turning into this weeping girl and attempting to draw weakness out of him. She was giving up, throwing her pride away completely to him.
"This will break me. Truly."
Indeed. He could feel that.
"Then you will be alone."
Indeed. He would be alone.
"All of our children are married now. We have no one to take care of. We only have ourselves. Can't you just allow us to end our parenting with a bit of peace?"
"There is nothing to be done right this moment with the commotion of the inept 'aurors' running about," he told her, releasing her to resume towards the Manor. "We will worry about our options when the time comes."
The sounds of his steps heightened in volume as silence hung around them for a few moments. He could nearly taste her elation and disbelief in the air and he closed his eyes for a moment, holding back a sigh.
What had he said?
Our options?
Our options?
"You're.. Considering it..?"
He hummed and willed her to come along, nearly yanking the feathery cord of her magic. He was absolutely finished speaking with her. She caught up to him, taking his arm once more. He expected her to say more to him considering her loud and out of character emotions for him but she was staring at the ground, fortunately for his sanity that was clearly already unravelling.
She was hopeful.
She was also pleased with him, genuinely. She hadn't been pleased with him in many years. She had been satisfied when he agreed to give Daphne to the Pucey family, but it was not the same. It sent a thrill through him. It pleased him that she was feeling positive towards him for once, of course it did, he did in fact love her. There was no point in lying to his own mind regarding the matter.
Then again, he supposed in truth it was disturbing she was so grateful over him hesitating to murder their son after she begged him.
Ah. There he was. At a loss for control. His mouth pulled at a wry smile and he felt the bitterness burning in his eyes. That was why he didn't allow his feelings much weight in his mind. They got in the way, they compromised him.
Fuck it all.
His churning rage for himself and how he had faltered at his wife's will died the moment they found Narcissa Malfoy standing in the center of the newly destroyed sitting room where his children had only just been. Aldrich slowly moved his eyes over the inside of the home, dread filling him and closing in around his throat. His children were gone, and clearly they had not gone willingly. Freya walked towards Narcissa, distraught and looking around wildly in her panic. She shook her head at Narcissa, at a loss as she pressed the palms of her hands to her forehead, a contrast to Narcissa who was livid and unmoving as she held her wand in a white-knuckled grasp.
"Where is my son."