Trapped

𝓝𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓻 𝓬𝓸𝓶𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓫𝓪𝓬𝓴.

The scene shifted abruptly to a later day. The heavy door creaked open, revealing a small, trembling house elf. "Mistress!" the elf cried, wobbling towards Isadora.

Isadora lay on the floor, her body covered in scars and dried blood. The elf's eyes filled with tears as it reached her, its tiny hands fluttering over her wounds. "Oh, Mistress, what have they done to you?" the elf sobbed, its voice a heart-wrenching mix of sorrow and helplessness.

The scene zoomed in on the house elf, its large, tear-filled eyes scanning Isadora's broken form. The elf's hands, small and trembling, reached out to touch her face, gently brushing away the strands of hair matted with blood. "Mistress, please wake up," the elf whispered, its voice cracking with sorrow.

Isadora's eyes fluttered open, dull with pain and exhaustion. "Mipsy..." she murmured, barely audible. The elf's tears flowed more freely, pooling on the cold floor.

"Mistress, they hurt you so bad," Mipsy cried, its voice a mournful wail. "Mipsy tried to come sooner, but the wards... oh, Mistress, I'm so sorry." The elf's tiny body shook with sobs, its anguish a stark contrast to Isadora's weakened silence.

The camera panned across the room, capturing every detail of the horrific scene—the bloodstains on the floor, the tattered remains of Isadora's clothing, and the hollow look in her eyes. Each frame intensified the audience's sense of horror and empathy.

In the Great Hall, the viewers were gripped by a mix of sorrow and anger. Mothers pressed their hands to their mouths, stifling cries of anguish. Fathers exchanged grim looks, their faces set in hard lines of fury. Students whispered among themselves, their shock palpable as they struggled to comprehend the brutality displayed on the screen.

James and Lily sat frozen, their faces pale. Lily's eyes were filled with tears, her hand gripping James's so tightly that her knuckles were white. "Our poor boy," she whispered, her voice choked with emotion. "How could anyone survive such cruelty?"

Euphemia clutched Fleamont's arm, her heart breaking for both Isadora and Harry. "No child should ever endure this," she murmured, her voice trembling.

As the memory continued to unfold, Mipsy gently helped Isadora sit up, the elf's eyes never leaving her face. "Mipsy will take care of you, Mistress. Mipsy will heal you," it vowed, its voice filled with determination despite its sorrow. The elf's small hands began to glow with magic, the soft light casting a faint warmth over Isadora's battered form. The magic stopped the blood flow, now leaving scars of ranging colours on her plane skin.

As the memory continued to unfold on the screen, Isadora's eyes slowly regained a spark of determination. She reached out to Mipsy, her hand weak but resolute. "Mipsy, listen to me," she said, her voice trembling but firm. "We need to leave this place. Take me to Harry. Gather all my belongings. We are never coming back here."

Mipsy looked up at her, eyes wide with a mixture of fear and hope. "Mistress wants to leave? But the wards... the protections... Mipsy is not sure..."

Isadora's grip tightened on the elf's small hand. "Please, Mipsy. I can't stay here any longer. Harry needs me, and I need him. We have to be together. I can't let them keep me here. I won't survive it."

Mipsy nodded, tears still streaming down its face. "Mipsy will do as Mistress says. Mipsy will get Mistress out of here. But it will be dangerous, Mistress. Very dangerous."

"I don't care about the danger," Isadora replied, her voice gaining strength. "I'd rather face whatever is out there than stay in this nightmare for one more second. Please, Mipsy. I need you to do this."

The elf nodded again, more decisively this time. "Mipsy will get Mistress to safety. Mipsy will gather Mistress's things." With that, Mipsy scurried around the room, collecting Isadora's belongings, her wand, clothes, and a few personal items that held meaning.

In the Great Hall, the audience watched in tense silence. The sheer courage and desperation in Isadora's voice resonated deeply. The mothers in the room, tears in their eyes, exchanged sorrowful glances. They felt a profound sympathy for the girl who was willing to risk everything to escape her torment and find solace with Harry.

Lily's eyes were fixed on the screen, her heart aching for Isadora. "She's so brave," she whispered to James, her voice thick with emotion. "She's risking everything for our son."

James nodded, his jaw clenched. "And Harry... he's been through so much. They need each other. We have to help them."

Back on the screen, Mipsy returned to Isadora's side, her small arms full of Isadora's possessions. "Mistress, Mipsy is ready. Mipsy will take Mistress to Master Harry."

Isadora gave a weak but grateful smile. "Thank you, Mipsy. Let's go. We have to be quick."

With a final, determined glance around the room that had been her prison, Isadora took Mipsy's hand. The elf began chanting a complex spell, the air around them shimmering with magical energy. The scene blurred and shifted, the walls of the Rosier estate dissolving into nothingness.

The memory ended abruptly, leaving the Great Hall in stunned silence. The enormity of Isadora's decision, the danger she had faced, and her unwavering determination to reach Harry hung heavily in the air. The audience was left to ponder the strength of her resolve and the deep bond that had driven her to such lengths.

As the memory transitioned, the scene shifted to a small, dimly lit room - the shrieking shack - where Harry was pacing anxiously. The screen showed him glancing repeatedly at the door, his face etched with worry and fear. The anticipation was almost palpable as he waited for any sign of Isadora.

Suddenly, the air in the room shimmered and distorted, and with a pop, Mipsy appeared, clutching Isadora's hand. The sight that greeted Harry made his heart drop. Isadora was barely standing, her clothes soaked with dried blood, her body covered in fresh wounds and old scars. Her usually vibrant eyes were dulled with pain and exhaustion.

"Isadora!" Harry's voice was a mix of relief and horror as he rushed forward, catching her just as she began to collapse. He gently lowered her to the ground, cradling her head in his lap. "What did they do to you?" he whispered, his voice breaking.

Isadora tried to smile, but it was a weak and fragile attempt. "I'm... I'm here now, Harry. That's what matters."

Harry's eyes filled with tears as he took in her condition. "You shouldn't have had to go through that. I... I didn't know they would... I'm so sorry, Izzy. This is all my fault. Dumbledore wouldn't let me come to get you. You were right he is of no help!"

Isadora shook her head, wincing from the movement. "No, Harry. It was my choice. I tried to get the information... to protect you, but in the end I found nothing. But I do know that we need to leave. We need to get away from all of this."

The audience in the Great Hall watched with bated breath, the tension in the air almost unbearable. Mothers held their children closer, fathers clenched their fists, and friends exchanged worried glances. Lily's eyes were brimming with tears as she clung to James's arm, while Euphemia and Fleamont watched with deep concern etched on their faces.

"Look at her, James," Lily whispered, her voice trembling. "She did all of that for Harry. She loves him so much."

James nodded, his face pale. "And Harry... he blames himself. They're both so young to be dealing with this."

On the screen, Mipsy was hovering anxiously. "Mipsy did as Mistress asked. Mipsy brought Mistress to Master Harry. Is Mistress alright? Should Mipsy fetch a healer?"

Harry shook his head, his focus entirely on Isadora. "No, Mipsy. Thank you. Just... help me get her to the bed."

Together, they lifted Isadora onto the bed, Harry's hands trembling as he tried to clean her wounds with the limited supplies he had. Isadora winced and bit back cries of pain, but her eyes never left Harry's face.

"Harry," she said softly, reaching out to touch his cheek. "We need to leave. We need to disappear. It's the only way we'll be safe."

Harry nodded, his expression determined. "We will, Izzy. I promise. But first, we need to get you healed."