Life After Death - An Erica Black Continuation (4)

Twenty Eight

(TW)
As this man towered over her, he was blocking all light from her eyes, making it very hard for her to see anything. She couldn't breath properly, between her own panic and the suffocating scent of whatever products the beast had slavered himself with in an attempt to mask the stench of his body that made her nose wrinkle in disgust. Brought back to reality and the weight of her situation by his uneven fingernails scraping her skin, she whimpered, her wand long forgotten- discarded at their feet. The strap of her nightie being tugged carelessly off her shoulder as he purred and growled in her ear. clawing at her breasts through the fabric, he dug his sharp talons into her porcelain skin and she shuddered, her heart beating frantically.
"So, tell me 'Professor'" he sneered, mockingly "Who are you, Exactly?"
"M-my name is Black, Erica Black, I a-am the History of Magic Professor." She replied hesitantly.
"Black, Ay?" He hummed, "I didn't realise there were still Blacks around. Thought they died out in the 90's"
Her eyes narrowed as he spoke thoughtfully, blatantly ogling down her night dress.
"Well clearly," she scowled, kicking and struggling underneath him "you were wrong"
"So what are you then? Sirius Black's great granddaughter?"
"I'm his daughter."
"Huh. Yeah right, she died decades ago and would be old enough to be your grandmother. Deceitful bitch." He shook his head disbelievingly and spat in her face as he snapped the last few words.
"Get off me!" The young woman shrieked as the mountain of a man, who was holding her helplessly against the wall, began to run his hands over her body again. His desire for conversation clearly replaced with one of a much more primal nature. As if it weren't clear enough already, the way his dirty hands stained her nightie made his intentions even more terrifyingly obvious. Just being that close to him made her feel dirty, his hands on her hips, his breath on her neck made her want to cry, to throw up. But she wasn't about to give him the satisfaction.

After a while, the adrenaline that had been running through her veins settled and all that was left was exhaustion. A horrible, bleak hopelessness fell over her. She couldn't fight anymore, he was too strong and her struggling and pleading hadn't done a thing to stop him so far, Erica Black had endured a lot of difficult, distressing and down-right traumatic events in her lifetime but never had she felt quite so powerless... She was scared and alone and completely at this monster's mercy. Where was everyone? What was taking them so long? But she realised that McGonagall had taken the second intruder up to her own office, and her uncle had gone down to the dungeons to collect the Veritaserum which he would then deliver to the headmistress. Stranded, she shut her eyes tightly and laid limp and let brute do what he wanted, staring straight ahead and blocking out every thought, feeling and sight as they piled up in her mind, on her body. After a while, he left her, cold and sweating, sticky and shaking on the torn blankets of her own bed. She didn't see where he went and she couldn't tell how long it had been since he left when the door opened again. The sound of the heavy wooden door creaking open made her flinch, her fingertips absentmindedly rubbing together as she sat, still and blank and so, so far away from Hogwarts, from her quarters and her bed and her body.

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A petite young witch in a neat school uniform sat beneath a tree, by a lake with a boy. The boy was tall, slim and older by at least a couple of years, he had red hair and freckled skin with contrasted with his friend's porcelain face and dark, inky ringlets. They sat together in near silence, her reading and him writing, scrawling messily on a piece of parchment.
"What's the date, today?" He asked, his voice vague and his mind clearly elsewhere- likely absorbed in the essay he was trying to close.
"April 14th, 1988" the witch replied, equally as lost in thought, not even glancing up from the pages of her book. He paused mid sentence and looked up from his homework with a disbelieving look;
"I know what year it is, Eri." he muttered incredulously, Erica Black hid her smirk behind the pages of her book, supressing a giggle at his offended tone. Instead, she replied in a quiet, controlled voice, barely above a whisper; "Never can be sure with you, Charlie" she shrugged.
"Ouch!" She exclaimed as he elbowed her in the ribs.
"What?" She whined playfully, "For all I know, you just have dragons flapping around in there!"
"Do not." He huffed, sticking his tongue out at the girl who returned the action. Suddenly, the boy jumped to his feet, the parchment and quill flying to the floor "Ay! Tonks! Over here!" He called out, waving across the grass to the girl with messy, blonde hair which stood on end and was bubble-gum pink at the tips, reminding the raven girl of Madonna, which, she could only assume, was the point. Erica Black sighed as the girl redirected her strides to their general direction, her brown furrowed and she adverted her eyes, pointing her wand at the snapped quill on the grass. "Repairo" she muttered and watched as the feather fixed itself only to be stepped on, the witch looked up to find the same blonde girl right in front of her, one foot on the quill."Way to go, Nymphadora" she sneered, placing extra emphasis on her name, taking her time and tasting the sounds on her tongue.
"Don't call me Nymphadora." The witch glared, her eyes narrowed and her hair slowly shifting in tone, to a smouldering orange colour. Erica looked her up and down with a playful smile,
"Don't have a cow, Tonks" She teased,
"Bite me, Black." the witch scoffed, sitting back against the tree.
"As if." she laughed, pointing her wand to the quill and silently repairing it. Tonks joined in her laughter, leaning her head on the raven witch's shoulder and softly asking her which page she was on. The ginger wizard spoke up, finally, a confused look still resting on his freckled face;
"Why do you two insist on doing that every time? I'm never sure if you're about to throw down or hug" Nymphadora Tonks thought for a moment as her two friends laughed, then she asked;
"If we were to fight, you know I'd win though, don't you Charlie? I mean, she's a second year."
"Nope, sorry Tonks, Black would win hands down. It doesn't matter that she's a second year, she'd beat your arse, easily." Charlie threw his head back in laughter as he spoke. The witch, who's hair had now returned to it's previous blonde, looked appalled.
"Smart boy. Weasley" Erica smirked, nodding approvingly at her red headed friend.

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"Erica? What happened?" Suddenly, her eyes focused and she could see her uncle kneeling in front of her, by the bed, his eyes wide with concern. as he looked her over, worriedly. When he saw her looking at him, truly looking at him and no longer through him, he smiled at her, reaching out to touch her trembling hand. His smile faded as she flinched from his touch. "Erica?" He asked again, the urgency in his tone growing.
He looked at her, his fragile looking niece, exposed on the bed, curling into herself as if she were trying to disappear, as if she were trying to shrink herself, shying away into herself.. Regulus Black could see his niece collapsing in on herself like so many Black's before her, the price of raising your children to be galaxies...
He sighed, shaking his head, "I'm going to go to McGonagall. I will be back soon. Go take a shower, do whatever you need to do. I will be back for you, I will get his sorted Erica, promise."