We Got Lots Of History

The Incident

*This chapter can be triggering because it describes images of violence and rape*

That night Graham informed her that from the moment she arrived at the mountain a year had passed. A whole year. And for the most part of it she had either been tortured or unconscious. Two weeks after that event, six of Grindelwald's followers found her in her room. They gagged her and brought her in the grand ballroom where they pinned her down with several spells. She wanted to fight but she couldn't, they had immobilized her. One by one they each touched her. They laughed at her as she tried to break free. They had positioned her laying on the floor in her stomach, her tears made the floor beneath her cheek slippery and and she crashed down.

Each and every one of them penetrated her, from the front, from behind, it didn't seem to matter to them. She could feel the sticky substance that they emptied inside her, one her, she could feel it everywhere. She fought again, she never stopped struggling as they ruined her but that only seemed to urge them on. As they grew hard again she noticed in horror.

"Please. Let me go. Please." She finally begged them, she couldn't take it. Her screams of anguished had seemed only to entertain them.

"Would you look at that? The little stupid mudblood is begging her superiors for mercy."

"You are not my superiors." Her voice shook with anger, panic and terror. That was when they snapped. Suddenly her defiance wasn't as enjoyable as it was before. A glass pierced her side and her blood started coating the floor. They hit her, they bruised her as they continued to rape her. Separately or together. It didn't matter. That night would plague her for the rest of her life. Their mean laughs would echo in her ears as something that was supposed to bring her pleasure was abused to show power and dominance. Her eyes stung and her throat hurt as she tried to hide her cries. She wasn't going to give them the pleasure of letting them break her. They may break her body, but never her spirit.

She felt disgustingly full. What had they done to her? Did they finish inside her? What was their goal with that? The force of their movements tingled her skin in pain and havoc. She welcomed them, the pain kept her focused. They never seemed to want to stop. And then it happened.

Her power slammed back to her in a tidal wave.

She released a gust of wind that threw them to the walls. They were all gasping as she finally looked at their faces. They were all painted with terror and she smirked as she heard them gasping for mercy. As they should. Little by little she collected the air from their lungs. Her frame shook as she finally registed their course of action. They didn't just plan to rape her. They had wanted to kill her. They all held knives in their arms. One had the stupidity to throw it at her. His movements didn't have any force as his body betrayed him. He was the first she killed. And soon enough the others followed.

She didn't like killing, or deathin general. She always feared it. She had killed one or two suspects in the past when they had threatened the lives of innocents. This time she wanted to think that it was self defense. She looked at the bodies laying down at her feet and a weird sense of calmness enveloped her. Vaguely she could recall that this was a symptom of shock. The mind stayed quiet as the body broke down. Nausea climbed up her throat and she knelt on the floor before she emptied the contents of her stomach.

She was getting dizzy. She had lost too much blood. Her night dress was ripped. She was practically naked and she had nowhere to go. No safe place, no anything. For a short moment she considered Graham, but would he be any use? Yes he had been an amazing companion, a great ally but nothing more. A mere friend, a mere acquaintance.

She thought of Minerva. She was in Hogwarts, she wouldn't be able to approach her with the new wards around the school. And even if she did appart to Hodsmead, would she be able to arrive on time to help her?

She leaned against the wall as she tried to calm down her breathing. She had left a bloody trail behind her and she finally realized that her body had carried her to the entrance of this manor. She thought of her home. Her comfortable bed. Her sunlight living room that was packed with bookcases and was always worth from the sun or the fireplace. She wanted to go home. Her bare feet were burning as they touched the snow, what an ironic contrast. Red had stained the fresh snow. Her blood? She didn't know. Her brain wasn't working any longer. And with a final push she apparted to her hallway.

She collapsed on the floor as her body betrayed her. She had to get to the bathroom. She had to stitch her side, the wound was too big to fix with a mere spell.

Frantic hands grasped her shoulders. She could register someone yelling her name, bit they seemed to be in a great distance. Something was licking her left leg. She opened her eyes but her gaze was to hazy to register Theseus, his smell was what had betrayed him. Expensive after shave, parchment and gunfire. He was trying to get her to stand, he had he had placed something to her side. She moved her hand and she grasped his bare bicep. He drew her in his arms, his warm skin coming in contrast with her freezing one like a calming wave of relief. Somewhere at the back of her mind she thought that this had not been how she pictured their bare chests touching.

He gently pushed the hair that had stuck to her face and tucked them in place. That gentle gesture was her undoing. But he would never know that because in the next second she was cold passed out in his arms.