13Trigger Warnings apply for this chapter. As I don't want to spoil anything, a differentiated trigger warning is put at the very end of this chapter. Check it out if you're unsure about continuing to read. You have been warned.
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Four – Turning Grey
I had always loved reading. Both my parents had fuelled that love in a variety of ways. My mother used to summon me to the library in our old manor. There, we would sit for hours to read different books and discuss the topic subsequently. The choice of the books had been my right, be it from folklore to Muggle crime novels or research papers. My father on the other hand had assigned me specific reading material on which he would quiz me later. I had loved both approaches.
Along one of those study sessions, I came across a book about runes and how ages they were used not only for recording and the strengthening of specific spells in the middle, but also as a means of magical 'containment'. I could remember how fascinated I've been with the idea that some runes could channel magical powers without drawing off the caster. But no matter how intriguing I found the topic and how badly I wanted to try it out for myself, that was simply not an option. That specific use of runes was banned in the 18th century, when blood magic in general had been frowned upon. Furthermore, one needed some ghastly ingrediencies and a high pain tolerance to tap into the containment abilities of runes. All this made it impossible for me to try it, as my mother was a law-abiding witch. My father was another matter altogether, but he relented to his wife in this matter.
But now, neither my mother nor my father where present to scold me. The ghastly ingredient – I looked at the pile of ashes of the burnt hag – was easily within reach and my pain tolerance had been pushed higher and higher thanks to the last few experiences.
"Let's do this", I muttered to myself.
I found a comfortable position on the ground near the ashes, my legs crossed in the typical meditation position. I rummaged through my knapsack to pull a small dagger out of it, while my mind was busy trying to decide which runes and rune combinations I wanted to use, as well as where I should place them. When I finally found the dagger, I'd also decided on the runes.
Taking a deep breath in and pushing the air forcefully out of my pursed lips, I tried to calm myself, but I couldn't keep my palms from getting sweaty. I had no idea if what I attempted would be successful, but it was worth a try, even if it meant pain.
I put the tip of the dagger lightly on the last phalanx of my little finger on my left hand. A hearty breath later, I pushed the tip carefully into the skin and cut a form like a rue into it. Instantly, I started to sweat as the pain travelled through my boy. It wasn't too awfully, certainly the slashing and ripping from the hag had been worse, but it was an unpleasant sensation nonetheless. The rune, Inguz, was placed on my little finger, standing for growth and common sense.
"Tergeo", I murmured a bit breathless when I had finished the carving.
I siphoned the blood from my hand and continued with my task before I became discouraged. Next, I put a combination of Raido and Berkana, signifying my travels and the personal growths and liberation I had to get through. With a jerky breath, I finished the last stroke and put the dagger on a clean cloth that I had laid on the ground. My little finger was pulsing in pain and I could already see the slight swelling of my flesh. Clenching my jaw, I reached forward and swept my hand through the ashes of the hag – the defeated enemy, one of the things that would give the runes magic themselves – to gather some in my hand. Ever so carefully, I rubbed the ashes in the open cuts, conscious that I would leave the dark powdery substance visibly in my wounds.
My first finger was done. It was a plead to gift me with common sense, and to endure my travels with enlightenment and to overcome them as a better witch. The positioning on my little finger should call upon its significance for relationships. In this case it was the relationship between my person and the outside world.
"One down", I muttered to myself, way too many to go, I continued silently.
I placed the tip of the dagger on my index finger, carving three decisive lines in between the space of the first knuckle and the back of my hand. Tiwas, to always remember what honour and justice meant to me, on my index finger, as this finger represented authority and leadership. Another swipe through the ashes and the cuts on that finger were coloured as well.
Without much hesitation I turned towards my thumb – the finger that symbolizes the will power of oneself – and started carving a slightly more complex rune. This time my breath didn't hitch, as my whole hand had started to go numb. I was thankful for it. Cut, cut, swipe, swipe, and the last rune for that hand was tattooed into my skin. Othala, so I could remember my roots and my beginnings.
"Tergeo", I muttered again and flopped on my back.
My eyes were looking in the sky, watching as the dark blue turned into a lighter bluish-red one, as dawn approached. Breathing in deep and slow, I stayed calm. Though the cuts were superficial and only tiny droplets of blood seeped out of the injured skin, I felt dizzy and queasy. It was just a small ritual, but it was still blood magic, and the thought of the ashes of the hag cursing through my bloodstream was making me feel sick. And as absurd as it sounded, I felt like I was doing something wrong, because it was outlawed centuries ago. The ministries had forbidden it simply on the fact that it was blood magic, not because of its wickedness.
I pushed myself back into a sitting and comfortable position again. My breaths were still deliberately slow, and I tried to find a half-meditating state. I had to get this over with and hesitating meant delay which meant a higher risk to be found in turn.
Taking the dagger in my left hand, I started the carving on my right knuckles, never wavering, never stopping, before I had carved all of them. My harsh breaths – not so slow and deep anymore – were only interrupted by a few Tergeo's to clean my skin off the blood.
Uruz for power and courage in combination with Eihwaz for stability and reliability on my thumb, signifying my enduring strength and steadfastness to make it through all the inflicted trials I had to face. Only Uruz again on my index finger, to combine the meaning of the rune, with the meaning of the position of the rune – courage in my leading and directing. Eihwaz was quickly spelled out on my middle finger, as a request for stability in myself, representing the hope to achieve balance. My ring finger was adorned with Naudiz on its own and a combination of Naudiz and Uruz – a plead to endure suffering and hardships with strength, especially when it came to matters of my loved ones, as the ring finger symbolized the direct connection to my heart. I finished the carving with Algiz for protection and shielding, placing it on my little finger, to fight off dangers from others.
With a last Tergeo, I cleaned the blood from my fingers and dumped my whole hand unceremoniously in the remaining ashes of the hag. I rubbed the ashes in the cuts and wiped both of my hands over the moist ground of the forest to add the bit of nature, that the ritual also demanded. Then, I concentrated on my magic, letting it ascend from within my core till I could feel it bubbling under my skin. I willed it to the cuts, pushing it towards the injured skin and guiding my magic to knit the wounds. With a sting of worry, I also tried to visualize my magic cleaning the cuts, as I had no interest in catching a sepsis with all the dirt and ashes in the wounds.
Blinking my eyes, I broke my conscious connection to my magic and looked down at my hands. The carvings were healed, the cuts still pinkish and slightly raised by comparison to the surrounding skin. I didn't feel any different. There wasn't more calmness or strength that I could feel, but it was possible that I could only feel the difference when I came face to face to an enemy. Or maybe I had just botched up the ritual, who knew.
As I pushed clumsily to my feet, I also pushed the uncertainty from me. I did well and I was glad that I had done the ritual. My left hand represented my personal journey and the attributes I valued. My right hand should support my defensive and offensive casting. I've done nothing wrong, even if I felt a bit uncomfortable seeing the dark runes tattooed on my knuckles.
With a tired groan, I bend forward and gathered my knapsack from the ground. I cleaned the dagger but decided against putting it back into my bag and stuffed it into my bootleg instead, where I could snatch it out quickly. For a short moment, I wished I had a bigger knife to defend myself. Slinging the strap of my knapsack over my shoulder, I swiftly checked for the correct direction. I raised my hand over my eyes to shield my vision against the rising sun, straining to see the horizon in the direction where I needed to go. With another deep sigh, I concentrated and apparated towards the farthest visual I had.
Then I sought out the horizon again and jumped, travelling with quick apparition jumps.
I was curious to see how long I could keep that up.
I took another hearty bite from the stolen carrot and turned a page from my father's diary, engrossed in his writing. Crunching on the food, I wiggled a bit on my butt, trying to make myself comfortable on the hard ground.
I was sitting right in the middle of a field of carrots next to a field with tiny cucumbers – or just unripe ones, I had no idea about agriculture. Without any shame, I had plopped down in the middle of that field and started crunching on the vegetables as my lunch. It was surely not as nutritious as the meals I was used from home, but it filled my belly at least. A Notice-Me-Not charm prevented any passers-by to see me, though the vicinity was like dead. There were no other people, neither magical nor Muggle. I hadn't seen another human soul for almost a day now, and I had no idea if I should be glad or worried.
Turning another page of my father's diary, I halted when I saw a little drawing at the top of the page. It was very stylized, a triangle, with a circle and a line, all layered over each other. I frowned and gently brushed my fingertips over the drawing. It seemed familiar, but I had no idea where I'd seen it before. Taking another distracted bite from the carrot, I blinked into the hot midday sun, a pearl of sweat running down my spine. It could have been a lovely summer day, hadn't it been for the fact that I was on the run and my family and friends were all dead. I shook my head violently and put the thoughts away, imagining the bright sky, the fluffy clouds obscuring all the memories I wanted to ignore. All the bad thoughts would be obscured. Thankfully, the visualisation helped.
Chucking the end piece of the carrot away, I reached for another and pulled it form the soil. A quick cleaning spell, some brushes with my hand, and I had another mouthful of the crunchy vegetable.
Tearing my eyes from the drawing, I continued to read the entry of my father. In this one he had written about his research about the Elder Wand. Some of it, I already knew, like that the wand was fifteen inches long and made from elder wood. New to me was the information that I had a Thestral tail-hair core. I felt a hot wave of shame roll over me, when I realized that I'd never asked my father what the core of his wand was. What an ignorant daughter of a wandmaker I'd been.
My father speculated that this specific core ensured that only wizards or witches that had mastered death, could win its loyalty. I wasn't so sure about that. I knew that I'd won its loyalty before I'd killed anyone, but maybe it had started working better after the fight in the village? I could only guess.
Pointing my wand at a crop a few yards away, I mumbled, "Accio cucumber."
I continued my crunching.
I continued my reading.
I continued my frowning because I couldn't remember where I'd seen the sign before.
Still crunching, still frowning, I turned another page.
'The oldest brother asked for a wand more powerful than any in existence. The second brother asked for the power to recalled loved ones from the grave. The youngest brother asked for something that would allow him to go forth without being followed by Death.'
"I already know that", I mumbled through a mouthful of half-chewed cucumber.
My father had told me the rubbish about the Elder Wand and its connection to the children's story of The Three Brothers. He believed in it and I knew that a lot of things were possible in the magical world, but I sincerely doubted that three brothers had attained artefacts – named the Deathly Hollows – that would make one the Master of Death if one could unite them all.
I flipped a few pages back and looked at the drawing again. At least that was explained. The cloak as the triangle, the stone as the circle and the wand as the line. But I felt like I was missing something, like there was something more to the drawing.
A dull bang from the distance made me flinch, and I threw myself on my belly between the crops, before I could recognize the sound as the noises those muggle vehicles sometimes made. Though I had the Notice-Me-Not on me, I barely lifted my head over the plants and kept my eyes on the nearby farm road, both of my hands grabbed on a wand and the diary of my father pressed in the dirt under me. After a few seconds I saw an automobile and watched it drive along the road, disappearing without any fuss, none the wiser that a witch was hiding in one of the fields.
I took a deep breath in and puffed it out again.
For a moment, I had thought that Grindelwald's men had found me. There had been a second of pure panic, where I'd no idea what to do before I'd recognized the noise as the newly familiar sounds of a Muggle engine. I needed to be more careful, always ready to take flight or fight.
I pushed myself back to my knees, and started to brush the dirt from the booklet, my eyes on my father's script and his drawing while my mind was still occupied with Grindelwald. And with a snap, I realized where I'd seen that figure before.
Grindelwald's emblem. It was two G's, mirrored vertically and between the letters was the sign of the Deathly Hollows. That emblem was on the uniform of his men, that's where I'd seen it before.
My mind was running wild and I came to several conclusions. Both meant bad news. The first one was that Grindelwald had really been after me the night he'd attacked the village. It hadn't been an incident how I'd hoped for so long. The second conclusion was that Grindelwald knew about the Deathly Hollows. And if he believed in the Elder Wand enough to slaughter a whole village, then it probably meant that he thought the others Hallows true as well. Maybe he even believed that he would be Master of Death, once he mastered them all.
Grindelwald believed in the Deathly Hallows.
Grindelwald knew – assumed, guessed, suspected – that I had the Elder Wand.
Grindelwald was after me.
I clenched my jaw and closed the diary, putting it away in my knapsack. Clearing my throat, I tried to get a grip of the stirring worry. It wouldn't help me to lie down and cry now, no matter how much I wanted to. So, I gathered all my belongings and took sight of the horizon again. With my wand clasped in my hand and the Elder Wand in my holster, where no one could see it, I started to apparate in quick successions again. The urge to reach England was stronger than ever.
I stumbled out of my apparition with wobbly knees and knew that this was enough. After a short night thanks to the hag and half a day spending apparating around, I was more than a bit exhausted. Pulling at my muscles to straighten my weak legs, I decided that I would walk towards the cluster of houses I saw in the distance. I still had some Muggle money, maybe I could rent a room again.
Looping both my thumbs through the shoulder straps of my knapsack to try to lighten the weight of it, I marched forward, breathing heavily with the exertion that I felt. The attack on my village – the death of my father – was only a few days old but it felt like I'd lived a lifetime since then. Being on the run was exhausting, both physically and mentally.
I was much closer to the little village when I heard the faint sounds of screams and unfamiliar banging noise, giving me flashbacks of the attack on my village. I froze only for a second before I tipped my wand on the top of my head and the feeling of an egg popped on my head travelled all over my body. Disillusioned, I performed a nonverbal Silencio on my feet and jogged the remaining distance to the village. It was bigger than it had seemed form the distance. The few houses I had seen were backed by many more, standing closer to each other the nearer one got to the centre of the town. The town was a curious mixture of outdated architecture and modern construction, asphalt meeting cobblestones, timber roofs meeting shingles.
I crouched low and crept through the streets until I was able to see the first people since days. There were men running around the village, clothed in a red uniform. They yelled in Russian commands to each other and threats to the villagers. The closest one to me raised a metallic device, pointing it at a woman that was running screaming through the streets. With a slight jerk, the device activated, and I learned where the banging sounds came from. The woman on the other end of the device fell to the ground, red blossoming on her chest. I didn't need a better look at her to know that she was dead. Whoever those men were, those weren't Grindelwald's. They were Muggle, attacking other Muggles.
"Stupefy", I whispered.
The man, who had killed the woman, fell to the ground, stunned from my hex. I panted with the adrenalin rush, unsure what I should do. Obviously, this was a fight caused by the Muggle war. But they were killing innocent people. How could I just stand by and do nothing? I had to do something!
I ran over to the crumbled form of the woman, checking her for vital signs but coming up negative. Scanning my surroundings, I heard a piercing scream just before the door of one of the houses in the little street was thrown open and a man in the same red uniform walked out, dragging a young woman that was probably around my age at her hair after him. The female screeched and kicked but was unable to loosen the grip of the soldier.
In quick succession, I first cast another stunner at the man and then cancelled the disillusionment charm on myself. Keeping the Silencio on my feet, I ran in a low crouch to the girl who tried to get her hair out of the death grip of the stunned man. When I reached her, I fell down next to her, scraping my knees on the gravel on the ground.
"Relax", I pleaded in Hungarian, thinking that we were still within the country.
I raised my empty hands to show her that I meant no harm. There was no need for her to know that I had a wand holstered at my arm, not that she would know what I could do with a wand. Her eyes met mine and she ceased her struggling enough so that I could reach for her hair and help her untangle it from the hand of the soldier. It took me long enough to get nervous again and I started to look around, hoping that no one would see us. Especially not with the soldier lying at our feet.
Finally, I was able to free her and tugged her to her feet, sweeping my eyes over her to see if she had and injuries.
"Are you alright?" I asked.
She looked at me with wide eyes, confusion clearly written in them.
"What?" I asked, almost hissing at her.
There were people getting killed in this little town and she had nothing better to do than stare at me? I knew that she was probably in shock, but I had no time to deal with her being like this. I had wanted to help her and I needed the young woman to get to safety.
I grabbed her shoulders roughly, making her wince. "You need to hide!"
She shook her head and shrugged the shoulders under my grip in confusion. And I finally understood. The only excuse I had for taking so long to catch on was that I was just as frightened as the girl was.
"Beszélsz magyarul?", I asked her redundantly if she spoke Hungarian. She shook her head again, grimacing her face. "Bŭlgarski? English? Français? Română? Deutsch?"
Her eyes lit up and she nodded frantically, starting to babble in a harsh sounding language that I deduced to be German from the few words that I understood. It was my time to grimace. From all the languages, I spoke German the worst and I couldn't cast a translation charm to help me with the communication. Earlier on she had been too panicked to realize that I had cast magic, but I couldn't risk breaking the Statue of Secrecy just for us to be able to speak to one another. There was no court in the Wizarding world that would accept a flimsy excuse like that.
"You need to hide", I told her once more, this time in English, not even trying to attempt the words in German.
I had no idea if the girl understood me, but she nodded and grabbed my arm, starting to run down the street with her head ducked down. I had no other choice than to be dragged along but we fortunately only ran for a house on the other side of the street. Releasing me, the girl knocked on the door and whisper-yelled something in German. The door was thrown open and we stared at a broad chest clothed in yet another red uniform. The girl and I gaped in surprise and my mouth opened in shock. I didn't need to look at the girl next to me who was still clasping my hand, to know that this man wasn't the person she had hoped for.
The man was quicker to shake off his surprise and moved to take something from his hip, grasping a device that looked just like the one that the other soldier had used to kill the woman on the street. Moving on instinct, I pushed the girl out of the way with a shove of my shoulder, drew my wand in the same fluid motion and cast a silent Depulso without conscious thought. It hit the soldier straight in the chest, throwing him backwards into the house to crash hard against the wall. The sickening crunch of breaking bones could be heard, followed by another heavy bang as the body connected with the ground. With my wand still outstretched and my eyes wide, I watched as a puddle of blood gathered around his head, growing bigger and bigger.
A small noise ripped me out of the shock that I had just killed another human being, and I whipped my head around to look at the girl, watching her move herself in a sitting position. I had pushed her into the flowerbed that was next to the house door and the young woman had flattened a few colourful petals in the process. Her eyes landed on my wand and I slowly pointed it up into the sky, raising the palm of my other hand up as well.
"I'm not going to hurt you", I said slowly, hoping that she would understand the meaning of the words even if she couldn't understand the language I spoke.
The girl flicked her eyes between my face and my wand, her mouth open in surprise and wonder. I was frozen, even holding my breath, as I was waiting tensely for her to react. After a few heartbeats that felt like an eternity, the girl raised her hand towards me, asking me without words to help her to her feet. I puffed out the breath I was holding and slouching my shoulders in clear relieve. I had no idea if she understood that I was a witch or not, but it seemed that she trusted me enough to not attack her. Maybe saving her live twice in only five minutes helped my case.
With a strong tug, I pulled her to her feet. She nodded her thanks and we exchanged another glance, before we started in the house. From the bit I could see of the house, it was fairly unassuming. It was rather small, with two stories und pretty stuffed with old, worn-out furniture. The wooden ceiling made the house look dark and the scratched floor told of a lively home. Though it was rather dark and small, it was clear that it was cozy and the home to a family.
The girl had wanted to reach something or someone in this house and the soldier in the red uniform opening the door could only mean bad news. Creeping through a dark hallway, we heard some muffled sounds coming from the room nearby and I threw a glance back at the girl. Her eyes were wide and her face pale, but she nodded, and we tiptoed to the open door. The closer we got, the clearer got the sounds and I felt my stomach clench, hoping that I misinterpreted the situation.
I sneaked up on the open door and peered around the doorframe. It could've only been a few seconds at the most that I needed to take the scene it, but I saw every gruesome detail. A bulky man holding a woman in her mid-thirties down, slapping her with an open hand when she made an especially tortured sound, while another was going between her legs, her skirt crunched in his big fists as he pumped his hips to snap against hers. I noticed the bruises already forming on the pale thighs, I saw the tears glittering on her face and blood seeping from the corner of her mouth. To my utter horror, I saw the man between her leg grin and then picking up the speed which made the woman only screech louder. This prompted the other male to lay a beefy hand over her mouth to silence her. No wonder they hadn't heard me blasting the soldier at the door against the wall, they were making so much noises themselves.
Salvia pooled in my mouth and my body got ready to heave up the petty lunch of carrots and cucumbers, when my eyes swept from the violated woman to two other figures in the corner of the room. Another soldier, blatantly younger than the other two, held onto a young child that couldn't be older than four years. The child tried to scream but the young soldier held his hand over the kid's mouth, silencing it thus. The young one struggled and kicked, but the soldier only turned so the child didn't have to witness the rape of its mother. The face of the young man was ghostly pale, his eyes big and haunted.
Loud laughter ripped me out of my observation, and I saw the man that held the woman down spurring on his fellow soldier. With jerky last pumps, the man between her legs pulled back and reached down to grip his own bloody member – it wasn't his blood, it was hers, hers, hers – to move his hand quickly until the splatter of his release landed on the female he had just used so brutally. He grunted lowly and fell back on his heels, his eyes closed in ecstasy. His brethren got to his feet, obviously intending to switch position with his mate. The woman lay limply on the ground, only shaken by silent waves of tears.
There was shuffling behind me and a quit gasp as the girl behind me saw the scene for the first time, but I was already moving. Not even the Gods could stop me from intervening.
"Avada Kedavra", I said calmly, and if I hadn't known that I'd spoken the curse myself, I wouldn't have recognized my voice.
My aim was true, and the green light hit its mark in the centre of the chest of the soldier that had moved to go a round with the woman as well. The curse threw him on his back, away from the female. And with that, the whole atmosphere of the room switched.
"Petrificus totalus", I hissed, stunning the young soldier that had held onto the child.
With another flick of my wand I disarmed the soldier that had raped the woman and was now pulling the metallic killing device from a holster on his hips. The device sailed through the air and landed with a heavy thud on the ground. Before I could voice another curse, the girl behind me stormed into the room and attacked the man with her bare fists. It was an easy task for him to push her away, making her stumble back, but he hadn't reckoned with the violated woman to jump into an attack as well.
The woman had rolled over to the device the man had lost and cocked it now at the soldier, aiming it without a tremble in her hands. She was still laying on the floor, her skirts pushed up to her hips and the mixture of blood and semen smeared on her bare thighs was visible. But the fierce expression on her face was frightening. I knew what she was about to do, so I rushed towards the still wailing child and pulled it in my arms, burrowing her face – it was a little girl, a little girl that had to witness her mother's rape – into my chest.
A deafening bang sounded, followed by few more until there was only quiet clicking and I flinched with every noise. The little girl stilled in my arms, frozen by fear. I turned my head to look at the scene and saw the woman pushing her skirts down, as the girl who had entered the house with me helped her. Still holding onto the child, I flicked my wand and levitated a comforter and a tablecloth over the two corpses to cover them. The tablecloth was instantly soaked by the blood, but it was still better than the two dead soldiers in plain sight.
I exchanged a quick glance with the girl and at her nod, I release the child and steered it towards her mother. The little one choked out another sob and fell in her mothers' arms, both of them crying heartbreakingly. There were tears pooling at the corner of my eyes as well, and I swallowed heavily to keep the emotions at bay. There was still the third soldier to consider.
I turned around to take care of him. He was still petrified, but I could see the fear in his eyes. He looked so bloody young, he couldn't be much older than Ivan. And here he was, watching his two fellow soldiers assaulting an innocent woman while he held onto her child. I swallowed again, feeling a lump in my throat that made it difficult to breathe.
He was barely more than a child, lost in this violent war just as I was lost. I knew that he had no other choice than to listen to his commands or he would be the one suffering from his brethren, but I couldn't shake off the image of the man finishing off on the woman, grunting in pleasure while she was groaning in pain. It wouldn't be fair to judge him, but life simply wasn't fair. Especially not if you were in a war.
I raised my wand and pointed it at his forehead. Without missing a beat, I looked him one last time in the eyes, sealing is fate. I knew that he didn't deserve this, but forgiveness was just not in my nature.
"Avada Kedavra", I muttered gently for the second time this day.
The light in his eyes died down and he went lax. My stomach clenched again, the urge to heave up was getting bigger, but I only swallowed audibly. I didn't bother to close his eyes. With one last look at his body, I turned around to see the three females in a tight embrace. The young woman was looking at me, holding my eyes for a few heartbeats, before she moved.
Untangling herself form the embrace, she pulled the child and the older woman to their feet. The woman had troubles standing, so I rushed to her side, and the girl and I both threw an arm over our shoulder to half carry, half drag her along. The child was holding onto the dirty skirts of her mother.
I followed the pointing hand of the girl and we reached a door that led to a basement. Sending the child down first, I carefully helped the two other women down, as I came in last. I closed the door and locked it but raised my wand to also magically strengthen our hiding place. I needed no explanations to know that we would try to hide away in this basement till the soldiers had all left the village.
"Protego totalum. Salvio hexia. Repello Muggletum. Protego Maxima."
I swished my wand over the basement door and tried to secure our hiding space as well as possible. It was probably overcautious to add the charms against magical attacks, but my nerves were wound up too tight and I clearly remembered the last time I was sparse with my protections. With a final flick, I turned around and descended the stairs to the others. It was so dark that I couldn't see a thing.
"Lumos", I muttered.
Instantly, the basement was lit up with a gently light and I could see the three Muggles huddled together at the base of the stairs. All three of them were looking up at me, their faces cautious but not scared. The little girl held still onto her mother but had stopped crying. They all looked like hell.
I licked my lips nervously and stopped in the middle of the stairs. I was too agitated to attempt a translation spell. Those were complex magic, that needed both the focus, power and delicate wandwork to work properly. I doubted that I could perform that spell right now. I sighed heavily and looked at the Muggles again.
Raising my hand slowly to avoid scaring them, I pointed at my chest.
"Galina", I said, introducing myself.
The young woman quickly shuffled to her knees, pulling herself taller. Imitating my greeting, she laid her hand on her chest.
"Rebecca", she informed me, and I nodded.
Turning towards the mother, I waited for her to tell me her name. With a small tremble of her lips, she clenched her fists and whispered a word, but I was unable to hear her. Looking at Rebecca for help, she gave pained smile and pointed first at the mother, then at the child.
"Bea", she said first, followed by, "Elisabeth."
Relieved that at least one of them was ready to talk to me, I lowered myself at the steps on top of the stairs, as far away from the women as possible. I didn't want to scare them. Nonetheless, I needed to know that they would be alright with us staying in this basement till it was safe to go back up again.
"Galina", I repeated, pointing at myself again, then pointing at the young woman, "Rebecca", my finger wandered to the mother, "Bea", and lastly to the little child, "Elisabeth".
Rebecca nodded her affirmation, but her face was drawn. There was wariness in her eyes.
"Galina", she started uncertainly, and I jerked my chin as a gesture for her to continue. "Hexe."
My mouth was suddenly dry. I didn't need to speak German to know that that word meant. After all the spellcasting in the living room it was clear that the three of them knew that I wasn't just another girl. They had seen me throw curses and had drawn their conclusions. It was no wonder that they accused me of being a witch.
"Yes", I nodded.
Even as I watched the Muggles, they didn't seem to be too shocked about my confession. Wanting to test the waters, I motioned down the stairs.
"May I come down?", I asked in English, though I knew that they couldn't understand me.
Tentatively, I took one step after another, keeping my eyes on the girls, watching them for any discomfort. But only the little girl was still clutching on her mother. Rebecca and Bea didn't seem to feel threatened by me. Reaching the last step, I lowered myself again, this time near enough to touch any of the women if I wished to. This close up, I could see that Bea was covered in dirt and blood and other fluids that I didn't want to think about. Eyeing her carefully, I also saw that she was still bleeding. The wounds needed to be looked after.
"I could clean you", I offered, trying to ease my mind with my own blabbering.
Raising my wand, I pointed at my own grubby clothes.
"Scourgify", I muttered, and the dirt disappeared from my garments.
I looked up to catch Bea's eyes, nodding towards her dress. "May I?"
I was sure that she still couldn't understand a word, but she nodded her head frantically, tears starting to glister in her eyes. With a calming smile, I quickly cast the cleaning charm and added another household charm to patch the ripped skirt and bodice. One could clearly see that I had no experience with this kind of charms, but at least the woman was clean and covered again.
"And something else", I muttered and pointed my wand at my own scuffed knees. A nonverbal Episky later, and the superficial wounds were closed.
With another look I assured myself that I was allowed to help with Bea's wounds as well. Looking at Rebecca, I saw her nodding as well. So, with more confident movements, I cast a diagnostic charm over all three of them and started casting. Elisabeth had only a few bruises which I couldn't help. Rebecca had a sprained wrist and a slight concussion. The wrist was mended with another Episky, the second injury couldn't be helped. But Bea was something else entirely. Her diagnostics came up, flashing red. Bruises, scrapes and cuts, as well as the damage done by the male who had violated her. I healed the minor wounds rather quickly but had to concentrate on the more delicate injuries. It took me longer than I thought, but Bea was healed at least.
Biting my lip, I thought about something else. With a clenched jaw, I looked at Rebecca and little Elisabeth. With a circular motion of my index finger, I gestured them to turn around.
"We need privacy", I informed them unnecessarily.
Rebecca looked confused at me, so I repeated the gestured, going so far as to push her around by her shoulders. Finally, she understood, and pulled the little girl with her. I set my eyes on Bea again and already saw her watching me with worry in her eyes. I sighed deeply. This wouldn't be easy.
I pointed at her lower belly, then motioned my arms as if I would rock a babe and then shrugged my shoulders, looking at her questioningly.
"Do you want me to cast a contraception charm?"
Bea shook her head in confusion. Closing my eyes, I fought the tears. I didn't want to ask Bea if she wanted me to prevent a pregnancy from a rape. I didn't want to have the memories how she was held down by two men, how her child was held back to watch them and how I killed a young man without a stirring of empathy. I just wanted to go home, to have my father back.
Opening my eyes, I blinked a few times against the tears. With determination on my face, I tried it once more.
"The soldier", I pointed upwards where the living room was, "had sex with you", I pointed at her lower body, fighting the urge to cry in real as I called the violation 'sex', "so you could be pregnant", I pointed at Elisabeth and then held up another finger to signal 'two', followed by the rocking motion I made earlier.
I looked at Bea intensely and slouched in relieve when I saw her understand. Next, I asked her if she wanted that, accompanying my words with an exaggerated nodding or shaking of my head. Instantly, Bea shook her head and added a very distinct movement to indicate that she didn't want a pregnancy.
"Alright", I said and flicked my wand over her lower body.
A contraception charm was more effective if it was cast before the act, but it still held some use after it. I hoped that it was enough, even more so as the man hadn't finished inside of her. With that thought, I felt the bile rising up again and swallowed painfully.
Touching Rebecca's shoulder, I motioned her to turn towards us again and all of us settled into a more comfortable position. In silence, we waited for the fight to end. A few screams could be still heard, and sometimes those popping sounds of the Muggle weapon echoed through the streets, but no one searched the house or looked for the soldiers we had killed.
After a few hours, Bea and Elisabeth dozed off in a fitful sleep, but Rebecca and I decided to stay awake. In all honesty, I didn't think that I would've been able to sleep. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the man between Bea's thighs, pumping his hips, a grin on his face that was replaced by satisfaction. It was like a never-ending nightmare.
In a spur of a moment decision, I turned towards the sleeping Elisabeth and put my wand gently on her temple. I saw Rebecca from the corner of my eyes, but she made no move to stop me.
"Obliviate", I whispered, taking the memories of the rape, then dulling the fear of the attack in general.
There was no need for anyone to remember a night like that in all detail, least of all a small child.
Trigger Warnings include but are not limited to: graphic discription of violence, rape, death/killing. If the mentioning of those topics upset you, please stop reading. Be carful of your mental health.
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