"You let him get away," Ginny was accusatory as she faced the young wizard that had been guarding the catwalk during the assault. I was pinned against the wall by magical force, as if invisible tape held me there. I couldn't open my mouth or speak at all, only capable of watching helplessly. The man was clearly frustrated as he paced around the room. Ron and a few other unrecognizable individuals sat at a table nearby.
The space was the largest I'd seen yet in the drab complex. We were in the central building which comprised of one completely open area. Odd, bulky computers lined an entire wall on the far end of the room, overlooked by square window openings. They would never work again; they were ancient. Large buttons jutted up from their interfaces begging to pushed, but the thrill would be short lived as the screens were dark and lifeless, some computers were lopsided as the floor gave way below them. The crooked table in the center of the room was piled high with paperwork and notes, and a bucket that was filled with random wands. I eyed the bucket with intent as the two young order members argued amongst themselves about what to do next.
"You know how powerful he is!" The guard retorted in aggravation.
"Excellent, Neville. Now you don't have a wand. You'll be weaker with one that doesn't belong to you," Ginny ridiculed him.
The boy named Neville sighed dramatically. He put his hand to his forehead, hiding his eyes. He was tall and slim, long brown hair fell to his collar, and I could see the beginnings of a beard along the edge of his sharp jawline. He was inappropriately wearing a Christmas sweater which was defined by rips and tears all along the worn fabric.
Ron stood then, looking miserable, "He's been to the fort, and he knows she's alive. We need to move. Maunsell is compromised, Ginny."
She spun to face him with a look of determination, "And where should we go now, Ron? And who's to say he won't just follow us there? Face it, the plan didn't work. We aren't strong enough to challenge him. If we move, she has to go back in the shackles so he can't trace us." Everyone turned to look at me with bitter expressions.
Ron's face blistered with annoyance, "We can't put her back in the shackles if she's supposed to be training with her Veela powers."
"She's a liability. We should just put her out of her misery," A short, petite witch stood up from the table abruptly. Her brown bob bounced with the rapid motion. I sent daggers at her from my wordless entrapment against the wall. It was difficult to read the houses of everyone in the room, but so far it just seemed to be all Slytherins.
Ginny pressed her lips into a solid line of distaste as Neville stepped forward angrily, "We're not murderers, Pansy. Besides, Ron is right. We need her powers to fight him. We just need to keep her safe long enough to figure this out."
Ron growled, "So we can't hide her from him. It's impossible. That prick will always know where we move her." His face scrunched into a collage of hard lines and my heart leapt with fear that he would rather side with the girl named Pansy.
It was silent. My eyes flickered between the mean girl with the bob who stood at the table, Ron, Neville pacing, and Ginny glaring at me.
"Madeleine," Ginny eventually commanded my attention having obviously made up her mind on the matter without anyone else's permission, "He's going to keep showing up. We have no time to waste on honing your abilities. We're going to move to the mainland so we have a better chance to attack him when he does make an appearance. The design of this fort is evidently holding us back. You need to be ready to work hard." Her tone was businesslike and dripping with acid. People around the room groaned with the decision and several pairs of eyes narrowed on me.
The move to the shore was long and awful. The group had to do so without the use of magic in order to reduce the likelihood of being traced. Neville had pulled the ripcord on several ancient looking rubber dingy's and I'd had to sit with Pansy, who had laced her fingers unapologetically through my hair and pulled my head towards her at an awkward angle. Every time that a wave crashed into the boat I had to endure agonizing tugs from where she was commanding my posture into an arc. The boats were beyond expired and the threat of sinking was constant; freezing water pooled around our feet. When we drifted up to the shoreline it was pitch black, and as the dingy's smashed into the rocks Ron started to whine.
"How the hell are we supposed to get out of the boats here?" He barked at Ginny who was seated next to him. Like everyone else he was entirely soaked, red hair hung damply against his coat.
She stood, wavering in the motion of the raft as the water smashed into the shore, "We can't just show up at the docks, Ron, the muggles will question it." She squared herself and leapt bravely onto the rocks. She was only scrambling for seconds before gaining control and climbing up to the bushes above. One by one the other witches and wizards followed suit, abandoning the old military rafts. When everyone else had cleared save for Pansy and I, she pointed her wand at my neck and whispered, "Jump for it, princess. If you try anything I'll make sure you stop breathing."
When she'd released my hair I stood hesitantly. It was difficult to maintain a straight spine with the lapping of the ocean below the rubber craft. I inhaled and held my breath, jumping from the raft towards a large, slanted rock. The landing tore at my legs which were still exposed from the horrible nightgown. By the time I'd reached flat ground above, I was covered in dirt and numb from the wet and cold. The indecency of the outfit sent chills of embarrassment through me as I noticed several of the boys eyeing me. The gown had flattened itself to my naked body below, and without any undergarments it was as though I was in a wet T-shirt contest.
"Why don' you take a photograph," I said through chattering teeth. Their eyes floated downwards finally, as Pansy stood next to me again. She had a look of pure enjoyment across her dainty features.
I took in her appearance as we started walking up a farmer's lane. She was small and beautiful, albeit her cold and callous attitude. It wasn't long before she became cognizant of my wandering eyes, "If you've got a crush on me you can spare yourself the heart ache. I don't meddle with females." Her fingers dug into my back even harsher than before as she shoved me ahead of her.
I suddenly felt indignant, "Me neither," I spat, trying not to trip in my bare feet on the gravelly lane. She smirked but said nothing. The interaction had sent me reeling. I probably knew her before as well and evidently it was giving her a good laugh, "Did I know you?" I asked with suspicion.
A sly grin appeared across her face as she said, "Oh, yes. We knew each other in Slytherin. You were nothing but a pain in the arse, always chasing Malfoy around. You deserve exactly what you got."
I choked on my breath at the rude insinuation. The moonlight was illuminating her face and emphasizing the cruel expression across it. My toes were bleeding from not being given any shoes, and I had become so cold that my body was shaking violently.
"Why would I chase 'im?" I asked vainly, already having an idea as to why. He was obviously very handsome and that was all it took for me to act less than lady-like with men. He couldn't have been a death eater when we were at Hogwarts though, could he? There was no way that I knew what he was before I'd involved myself.
She huffed, "Let's just say, you were a desperate little bitch. Not that the rest of us didn't try to take a drink from that cup though. Malfoy was always the prize of Slytherin."
I winced as my foot came down onto a sharp rock, "Den why would 'e need to rape me if 'e was so desirable?"
"That part I'm not so clear on. He literally lost his virginity to you," Pansy trailed off in thought, before shaking her head and giving me another shove, "It doesn't matter. Like I said, whatever he did to you in your private time you deserved it."
I visibly gaped at her but she avoided making eye contact with me. I decided right there that I was not fond of Pansy and she would be the first one to suffer if I had regained my wand and independence.
We'd walked for an hour when small cottage-like farm houses started to dot the landscape. We were in an incredibly rural portion of England and not many people seemed to live in the area. It was silent and short gusts of wind blasted at our faces as we squinted in the darkness, apparently walking in no particular direction.
"This is about as much patience as I have for this little stroll," Pansy complained from beside me, "Weasley - where the fuck are we going?"
Ginny gave her a salty glare, "The only reason you're still alive Parkinson is because of us. How about a little gratitude? We're going to try and find an abandoned homestead so keep your eyes peeled."
My emotions matched Pansy's frustration at the situation. It seemed that The Order members were wildly unprepared and irresponsible. The idea of wandering around all night, freezing, soaked and shoeless hoping to find an abandoned house to curl up inside of was appalling. I'd already spent a lifetime in a stunning French castle with butlers and double doors leading to every spotless room. Incredible pastel wall paper had dazzled every space, along with gold ornamentation and superior antique furniture. Now I would be sleeping in a dilapidated barn if I was lucky, wearing a nightgown I'd worn for almost a year straight.
"Oh right, kind of like your old house?" Pansy quipped mockingly. Ron and Ginny both scowled but refused to pay her any more attention. I tugged at the shackles on my wrists, as though any effort would loosen the tight restraints from digging into my skin. My magic had been silenced again and I was brashly aware of the void that it left in my soul.
It was nearly sunrise when Neville called out at the front of the group, motioning to a small brick building that had boarded up windows. It was isolated in the country side and surrounded by wheat fields, barren for the winter. We begrudgingly stepped through the doorway which was wide open to the elements. Inside the deserted home was an overpowering stench of rot and must. We all watched as a young wizard collapsed into a couch only for a plume of dust to erupt around him, cursing in a Scottish accent.
"It's not much, but it'll do to get some rest and reorganize," Neville sheepishly said as he cast protective wards around the perimeter of the room. Every one began dropping bags and finding spaces to curl up and sleep. Ron lit a fire in the hearth which provided some relief from the cool damp of March that drifted in through the numerous openings in the foundation.
I laid down in front of the fire on my back and failed to contain my loud crying. Several of the Order members slipped me glances of disgust which I returned to the best of my ability. The reality of the situation had me feeling desperate to go back into my coma and escape the hateful captors that were preventing me from going home. Images of the car accident replayed in my mind over and over as I grasped at any concept of what had been my life before the obliviation.
I was filled with resentment that they had decided for me that I didn't need to remember anything. I wanted to know what my experiences had been with Malfoy, even if they were filled with torment and horror. The gap of the years that were missing had left me with a bizarre, burning pain. In my mind I was seventeen, but in reality I was nineteen. My Parisian accent had softened somehow into a far more acceptable English translation, and my body had changed. I was no longer as athletic and capable, more or less an emaciated version of my former self.
Why would Malfoy try to kill me by driving a supercar off of a cliff? I pondered. The Order members had not told me many details of that day leaving me with multitudes of questions. If he had been so obsessed with me as they suggested than wouldn't he want to keep me alive to continue to make use of me? I closed my eyes and revisited the straggling memory over and over. The beautiful beige car interior, the smell of pine, a loud engine changing gears. A hand covered in rings rapidly shifting the gear exchange next to me. Blue flames in my hands as the car sank and extinguished them.
Then my mind drifted back to the day before when I had first met him at Fort Maunsell. It was dangerous just how physically attractive he was. I thought of his face on the catwalk, the icy blue of his eyes roaming over my body. He didn't seem like the type of boy I would even refuse to be intimate with, and so many questions lined up in my mind about what had actually happened between us. The prize of Slytherin, Pansy had said. Unfortunately, he evidently had a terrible personality that put his appearance to waste.
There on the hard, filthy floorboards of the neglected cottage I drifted to sleep in an old nightgown, with bloodied feet and scars on my skin. My hair fanned out around my head. The fire crackled and stormy images of my husband danced in my dreams.