Daisy Potter and the Fallen Angel (Book 7, Harry Potter ff)

Chapter 17 - Briefcase with a 'B'

Inside Grimmauld Place, I was carried up to the shared bedroom with the twins and Terry that I always lived in here. Fred's arms were gentle and warm around me as I shivered and snuggled in close to him.

The others followed us like a procession up the stairs, two more familiar faces emerging from two different bedrooms as we passed, rubbing their eyes: Emily and, surprisingly, Lee.

Not having slept at all for the past twenty-four hours and having been tortured, fucked, and traumatised, I was exhausted, and I was nearly passing out in Fred's arms. I let my eyes flutter shut as we reached the bedroom; Fred laid me down on his bed, sitting beside me, taking one of my hands in his. I felt his fingers tracing over the silver band on my ring finger, and I heard a sigh above me.

I felt the presence of everyone else in the room; blinking blearily, I saw Harry sitting on my other side, smoothing my hair back from my face. I caught sight of Terry flopping onto his own bed behind George, and Emily knelt down beside me, her wand out.

I heard the others talking quietly as I slipped in and out of sleep. Emily was patching me up best as she could, tracing her wand over my bloody cuts on my arm so that soft bandages wrapped themselves around the affected areas, dabbing at the heart-shaped cuts on my chest with cotton doused with alcohol. I could hear Fred, George, Harry, and Sirius's furious quizzing of Terry and Kylie when Emily revealed my chest.

"...Riddle has a blood kink, and he..." Terry's voice ebbed in and out of my brain, and I barely registered Fred's hand tightening around mine, and Harry's hand pressing down hard on my head.

Next were the bandages wrapping around my rubbed-raw wrists and the taking-off of the gag around my neck. Fred and Harry quizzed Terry again.

"...Tortured her in the Great Hall, in front of everyone, because she..."

I drifted off then, waking up what felt like two minutes later to Terry's voice still droning on.

"...And, I don't know, he just..."

Drifting again... the brief periods of blackness faded in and out of my head.

"Okay, everyone, can you look away? She needs her privacy..."

Emily's voice drifted through the quiet thrumming in my ears, and I tried to open my eyes; but it was like they were glued shut. Emily's soft hands moved over my body, gently tugging off my pyjamas, tracing her wand over areas that ached, where I knew I must be bruised. Then Fred gasped.

"What the hell? Terry, I thought you said she'd broken out of the love potion?"

"She - she did! Why -? Oh, Merlin, I didn't want to see -"

"Emily, fuck, Emily - please fix her, Riddle must have raped her -"

Fred's panicked and sickened voice penetrated my ears clearly. The guilt and shame started to rise up inside me again, and I whimpered quietly against my will as my eyes fluttered open.

"There's nothing physically wrong with her genitals, Fred." Emily said kindly, and I felt my stomach sink as Fred didn't answer for a minute.

"Well..." He said eventually. "Well... he must have coerced her. But can we... can we... Tergeo!"

I felt the uncomfortable trickling sensation vanish, and my eyes fluttered shut again in relief. But the guilt was eating me up; what was I going to tell him?

How could I ever tell him, or ANYONE, that I willingly had very consensual sex with Riddle back there?

"She's pregnant." Emily said. "We'll need to feed her an anti-fetus potion. But other than that, she's physically fine. I patched everything up, there's ointment on the bruises... I'll go get the potion."