Lies, Buried and Bound - A Dramione Story

Part Twelve

A/N: I don't speak French, I speak English and German, so I had to use Google Translate. For any of my readers in France who can correct me on the French used at ANY point in this story, please reach out to me through a private chat. Enjoy!

Charlotte was in a daze, even as a bright light was thrust before her eyes. Someone had pulled the shawl off from her head - her last protective shell - and she felt utterly bare and exposed.

She tried to make out the figure of the person - no, the figures of the people - that had discovered her.

"Oh no..." the second person said. He was a man.

"Hey, there," the first, a kind-appearing young woman said sweetly. "What's your name?"

Charlotte's eyes darted between both people. They weren't her mummy, nor were they French. She hadn't quite determined if they could be trustworthy, so she said nothing.

"Gin, she looks like she's been through it - "

" - I know. Um, sweetheart, will you let us help you? We want to help."

"What if she doesn't speak English?"

"Well, what if she does?" the first girl shot back. Their argumentative nature frightened Charlotte, causing her to sink further into the floor.

Pain suddenly shot up her arm and she let out a piercing cry.

"Bill, look at this! Her wrist is so swollen!"

"We need to get her inside - " Now having stepped in front of the light that the young woman was balancing on a chiselled stick, Charlotte caught a glimpse of the man's face and just burst into tears. The deep silvery ridges of scar tissue that laced his face were terrifying to the poor girl, and yet they looked very much like bigger versions of the scars her mum bore on her arm.

It left her to wonder, who had to hurt this man for him to have a scar like Mummy?

The young woman crouched lower, whispering "Nox," before beckoning the other person to take a step back.

"My name is Ginny and I'm here to help you. I see you've hurt your arm. Will you let me take you inside of my house so that I may heal it?"

Tearfully, Charlotte reached out and wrapped one arm around the girl's neck, keeping her shawl close by for comfort.

"Up we go, you're doing a good job."

Charlotte whined and buried her face into the girl's hair, mumbling a series of nonsense. Evidently, neither she nor the man could understand anything. The woman, Ginny, held her securely and tightly, just like her mummy frequently did. And for the first time in several hours, she felt safe.

--

"Mum!" Ginny called, startling the poor girl once more. Her lip trembled and she fell apart into tears once again. "Sorry, sweet girl, Mum!" she hissed.

"Ginny, dear, what is - oh..." she trailed off upon seeing the battered child.

"Woah," George exclaimed from the spiral stairwell, "well done, Harry. You guys have progressed quickly - ow! Mum!"

Harry's head shot to his girlfriend in alarm from his uncomfortable position on the loveseat. "What?!"

"Shh! Mum, I dunno what's happened to her, but she needs help."

Jaw quivering with fear and uneasiness, the girl lifted her head from Ginny's shoulder and surveyed her surroundings. "Où est mon... Mummy...?"

Ginny couldn't stifle the gasp she elicited. Her eyes darted to Bill, "Did you just hear that? She's - "