Tempest of Colours [harry potter fanfic. Perfect Storm contest]

Tempest of Colours

My scream ripped loudly through my mind. Only my mind because I refused to let it push past my lips. This little bit of will I could still possess. This decision still mine. He wants to hear me yell, to scream, to hear his name, no doubt, combined with a plea for mercy, for relief.

That, I would not give him.

It's thundering outside, had i let my screams loose, they may be drowned out by the loud crashes or the wind gusts bending weak trees as the more deeply rooted present them as a more formidable challenge. Days ago Id consider myself the latter but it's now I realise Im the former. A few latecomers straggle in seeking refuge from the storm. Sopping. No one can apparate directly in here, all had to face the storm to enjoy watching tonight's show. Me. The end of the chase. His victory.

I taste metal as blood slowly leaks into my mouth, my jaw having clamped so suddenly and with such force breaking open the flesh of the side of my tongue, not fast enough to escape the closing bones clamping quickly around it. I suck, pulling more as I scream internally, the taste of this wound slightly distracting me from the wand tip grinding into my flesh.

Rodolphus is stood behind me, his arms tightly around my waist , his warm hard body pressed flush against my back, his head leaned low so his face can bury against my neck. He tries to distract me with soothing words but all I can hear is my own silenced scream , the only walls it is allowed to reverberate against being my skull.

It's not just a scream of pain, though the searing , burning , shooting pain is enough to elicit groans and shrieks from even the most battle hardened warrior. It's a scream of loss of independence, of choice. My mind aches as it is deprived of sovereignty , the knowledge that destiny is no longer of my own making.

The chase has been long, hard fought- even fun. I caught his eyes with my unprecedented skill as a student, the beauty of my youth. My fierce determination of will ensnaring his imagination and my indignant rejections of him becoming the genesis of this chase.

He followed me, tracked me, pursued me with the skill of a soulless predator.

I laughed, I danced, I flirted.

I answered his seduction of power with seduction of my own, fool handily smiling as he'd give into my temptations as i rebuffed his. I ignored the seething glares and slight violence against me as his frustration grew choosing only to see the longing glances and the whispered desires.

I had, in my mind, the most powerful wizard wrapped delightfully round my Pureblood ️fingers. Meanwhile he'd masterfully and insidiously inserted himself into my life, my mind, closing in on me around me as I was distracted by all the promises dangled before me, all the playful advances in dark corridors. Pretty silly pureblood distracted by shiny things as he slowly surely broke me. My mind becoming less mine and far more vulnerable to him. An encroaching hell that I didn't see coming even as my husband picked me up shaking and ashamed after every visit from his Lord, my mind clouded with darkness that took away more of me inserting more of him - I still foolishly thought I controlled the pace of this chase- until it was too late and Id been overtaken, closed in.

I wasn't too pretty to bruise, to break. He'd tired of my games and I found myself at the wrong side of his curse, crumpled in a heap on the floor then defenceless in his arms. My husband was merely a disposable pawn on his chess board, constantly being placed in the path of danger in his pursuit of his queen.

And to protect that pawn whom I've unwittingly fallen in love with along the way I had to myself over .

My feet are fitted firmly to a path now. I've no choice but to walk it wherever it may lead. Down into darkness , down into hell, to victory or defeat, glory or shame, punishment or reward - I have no option but to follow.