Heliophilia; d.m

XXXIX

VIOLET

The subsequent wandering around in different cities did not bring me any benefit.

The winter was merciless, binding my hands behind my back, making it impossible for me to feel strong.

Winter had reached into my lungs, squeezing them in its icy claws, taking away my strength, making me choke on my own coughing, and there was nothing I could do with just my wand and some weird Muggle medicine. I lost this battle, I was weak, and in the end I fell into the hands of evil wizards.

Barty Crouch Junior caught me by the elbow just around the corner, on the outskirts of one of the small towns I lived in for a day.

"There you are, little escaper." His voice penetrated my mind like poison, making me numb, unable to fight back or run.

"Not so talkative today?" He grunted, squeezing my hand even harder — I wanted to say something, but all I could do was cough.

My lungs were burning, my eyes were starting to water, my head was spinning — I was ready to pass out, but I didn't want to just give up without a fight, so I reached into my pocket to pull out my wand, but it was useless.
I was too slow, and he managed to snatch it from my hand, his dark eyes flashing devilishly.

"Give it to me." I croaked with the last of my strength, not even knowing if he heard me or not.

The next thing I knew, I heard a crack as he snapped my wand in half, smiling triumphantly.

"Why do you need this broken piece of wood?" He tossed the two pieces of my wand into the nearest trash can, never taking his eyes off me.

I felt an aching sensation where his hand had been a moment ago, but my eyes were focused on his movements — his smooth steps, mocking, as if he wanted me to start running away from him, on his raised eyebrows, with which he silently asked me why I was staring at him like that, on his fathomless eyes, in which I saw the reflection of my own — light ones, when he was next to me again.

"So, let's go back home?"

His hands were on my forearms, pulling me away from the brick wall I hadn't even realized I was leaning against.

His fingers were hurting me, and unconsciously I jerked away from him, trying to shake the shackles off my arms, hissing in pain as he squeezed them only harder.

"Don't fight me if you don't want me to break your little bones."

My cough, visible in the frosty January air, burst out of my lungs again, my body doubled over and I felt myself slowly sinking to the cold ground.

"A problem on my head." I heard Barty mutter as he pulled me back up, and before I could even blink, we were at Malfoy Manor, a place I'd been running from like a fire.

The first thing I felt when I got there was warmth.

Standing in the middle of the drawing room, I thought with relief how warm it was.

I felt like I was covered in ice, and now I was starting to thaw, feeling my bones and muscles ache.
My sensitive lungs burned with renewed vigor, and my coughing tore through me again, echoing all over the room.

I waited for my fate, a little shrunken inside and when I wanted to twist the ring on my finger, and didn't find it, I asked myself, At what point in my life did I take a wrong turn?

"Welcome back." A voice from behind said, but it didn't sound welcoming, it sounded ominous.

My heart fluttered uncomfortably as I slowly turned around and met his cold, dark gaze.

"I—" I didn't have time to finish, and I didn't even know what I was going to say, because the next moment, his heavy hand met my cheek, knocking all thoughts out of my head.

My cheek was burning, but I didn't dare put my cold hand on it, because if I wanted it to end as quickly as possible, I had to do as he wanted.

"You dare to talk to me now," His hoarse voice sounded very close to me, "You know you're going to be punished for everything you've done, right?" He jerked my head up by the chin, digging painfully into my skin.

"And then you will come to your senses and continue to do what I say."

"You know there's no reason for me to stay with you anymore, right?" My voice was almost a whisper, a broken whisper, as unbidden thoughts of losing my father popped into my head.

"You think so?" Voldemort's voice made me turn back to him, "Of course, if you say that you have no other close people, because of the death of which you would suffer. If you are not afraid of their death, if you are not afraid of your own death. Then of course you don't have a reason." He said with an evil grin, taking a step away from me.

"I'm not afraid of my own death, rest assured, you can take my life right now."

He tilted his head to the side, assuming an expression of thoughtfulness,

"It's too easy for your punishment," He finally spoke, nodding to someone behind me, and the next thing I knew, I felt heavy hands on my shoulders, pushing me toward the stairs leading to the cellar.

"A few days in the cellar will be enough, I suppose." He whispered in my ear as he passed to leave the place.

"No!" I screamed, trying to pull away, but I was too weak, and the man who was leading me was too strong, I couldn't compete with him.

He threw me into the cellar, causing me to fall to the floor, and closed the door behind him, leaving me in the dark, which smelled of damp earth.

And I could have screamed and hit the iron bars with all my might, but it was no use, I knew I was helpless, and no one could have saved me. I had to wait — that was all I had to do.

At least waiting wasn't supposed to take away the last of my strength, which wasn't even enough to get up from the cold floor.
This wasn't the worst punishment from evil wizards, after all.

"Violet?" The soft, girly voice startled me, and when I turned around, I saw Luna Lovegood slowly approaching me, her face haggard and dirty.

"Why are you here?" I asked, frowning, my fingers fidgeting nervously with the woolen fabric of my coat.

"Oh, that's a long story. But why are you here? I haven't seen you for so long." Despite the situation we were in, there was a soft smile on her face.

"It's also a long story." I said evasively, pursing my weather-beaten lips.

Maybe we would have had time to tell these long stories, since a few days was a stretch.

"You know, it's impossible to get out of here. Unfortunately, we will have to wait for them to take pity on us." Her face went blank, and with a heavy sigh, she walked deeper, leaning against one of the walls.

My eyes were used to the darkness, but my mind would never be able to do it. I remained seated near the bars, where there was a small, pale streak of light coming from above, and my eyes never left it.