The Son of Lord Voldemort

Chapter 92

Molly Weasley looked out at her yard worriedly, as she sat on the front porch of the Burrow. Orange leaves littered the ground around tall oak trees. Overgrown grass hid broken pieces of brooms, and lost toys from gobstones and wizards chess. Garden gnomes scampered in the bushes, producing a quiet rustling sound.

Molly had spent the morning picking apples in the orchard, and now she was going to have a quick lunch before doing the chores. She knew she could've been done already, but with everything on her mind she was moving slow. Her daughter and twins were acting oddly, Percy, Bill, and Charlie had been more distant than usual, and Ron kept getting in trouble at school. To make matters worse, Nymphadora had been taken, and no one knew where she was. Molly had always adored the metamorphagous, and had cried herself to sleep almost every night since. She couldn't imagine what awful things were being done to her.

Molly raised a light green apple to her lips, the fruit scent filling her nose, when the Burrow's wards went off. Startled, she jumped up and grabbed her wand from the front pocket of her apron. Her eyes scanned the yard and she froze when her eyes landed on a crumpled form lying on the ground.

"Tonks!" Molly screamed, as she scrambled down the rickety wooden steps. "Oh Merlin, no!" She gasped in horror.

Nymphadora was lying naked on her side. Her body clean, but littered with what looked like hundreds of small cuts. The words blood traitor carved into her flesh, the skin around it red with infection. Bite marks littered her neck and breasts. Her eyes fluttered open and relief swarmed her eyes upon seeing Molly.

"Tell Dumbledore that-" Nympahora croaked.

"Don't talk sweetheart," Molly interrupted. Tears ran down her cheeks, and she tried to keep her voice steady. She quickly summoned a cloak and laid it over Nymphadora. With a flick of her wrist a small white dove appeared, another flick and the patronus and its message were gone.

Molly got on her knees and cradled Nymphadora's head in her lap. She could taste vomit, as the wounds Nymphadora sustained finally hit her. She had imagined torture, but to see those vile words carved into her flesh, and bites marks littering her body, Molly couldn't imagine the horrors she had suffered over the past two weeks. Molly stroked her hair as Nymphadora stared blankly up at the sky. Slowly, her eyes fluttered closed, and Molly could hear quiet breaths. She bit back a sob. No one deserved such a thing, especially not the amazing woman lying before her. Images of her brothers' dead bodies flashed before her eyes, and she pushed them away.

Two pops filled the air, and Molly looked up to see Dumbledore and Poppy Pomfrey, the Hogwarts nurse. Fury and concern radiated from the headmaster.

"Molly," Dumbledore said. "Poppy will need your floo to bring Nymphadora to Hogwarts."

Her voice shook as she replied, "Of course Albus."

It was heartbreaking to see such a strong woman lie stiffly, body tense even with muscle relaxation potions coursing through her veins, her eyes wide and alert, fear it their depths. They were hollow as well, dark and dead. Nymphadora's physical wounds were all healed, but Dumbledore knew the emotional ones would never go away. His never had.

"I don't want it," Nymphadora pushed Poppys hand away. A bottle of dreamless sleep glistened in her hand. "I want to go home." Her voice broke on the last word.

"My dear," Poppy began gently. "You need to rest for at least two weeks. Physically your scars are gone, with the exception of," her voice drew distant as her eyes flickered to the horrid words carved on Nymphadoras' arm. She cleared her throat. "You're lucky that the other spells they used on you weren't dark enough to leave scars."

Dumbledore knew her words were true. After examining Nymphadora, the only physical wounds she had were cuts, bite marks, and bruises. Nothing that had appeared to been caused by dark magic, her right arm the exception. She has internal injuries, Poppy attributed that to being beaten. It was odd. The injuries were unlike any usually found on victims of the Death Eaters. Most victims, the ones who weren't killed outright, became unrecognizable. Their bodies covered with scars from dark magic, their faces, what was left of them, bloody. And they never came out of the dungeons alive. Tom let Nymphadora go for a reason. Tom never acted without careful thought, every move he made was part of some larger machination.

Voldemort says hello. That was the first thing Nymphadora had told him after she had regained consciousness. Dumbledore could see the fear in her eyes as she said it, like she too knew something bigger was coming. Dumbledore had turned the words over in his mind again and again. Tom was going to strike. Dumbledore didn't know when or where, but he knew it would be soon.

"I want to go home," Nymphadora said again. No emotion coming through. "I want to go home."

Poppy looked worriedly at Dumbledore, pity shone in her eyes like a beacon.

"You shouldn't be alone at a time like this Nymphadora," Dumbledore said. "Especially not in these times. I can floo your mother, I know she'd be happy to have you." Nymphadora had been adamant that no one, not even her parents saw her until she was healed. Nymphadora didn't respond, her eyes glazing over as if in a dream. Dumbledore gently touched her arm.

"No!" Nymphadora screamed. Her eyes frantically going from left to right. She sat up and pushed herself towards the top of the bed.

"You're safe now," Dumbledore said gently. "No one here will hurt you."

Nymphadora looked at Dumbledore and she blinked rapidly. The fear in her eyes dimmed as realization hit her. Her countenance filled to one of misery.

"One night with my parents," Nymphadora said quietly. She grabbed her right arm and turned her head away, her shoulders slumped.

Dumbledores' heart squeezed with pain for her. Only evil could take such a spunky woman, and turn her into less than a shell of her former self. He looked at Poppy who pursed her lips but nodded.

Dumbledore looked at Nymphadora with gentle eyes, before making his way towards his office. He had much to do.