Explicit

Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Rape/Non-Con

F/M

Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling

Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy

Draco Malfoy
Hermione Granger
Theodore Nott
Ginny Weasley
Ron Weasley
Blaise Zabini
Pansy Parkinson
Harry Potter
Tom Riddle | Voldemort
Antonin Dolohov
Neville Longbottom
Daphne Greengrass
Fenrir Greyback
Bellatrix Black Lestrange
Padma Patil
Alecto Carrow
Amycus Carrow
Kingsley Shacklebolt
Aberforth Dumbledore
Minerva McGonagall
Dean Thomas

Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD

Explicit Sexual Content
Smut
Violence
Self-Harm
Rape/Non-con Elements
Pining Draco Malfoy
Possessive Behavior
Praise Kink
Loss of Virginity
War
Alternate Universe - Voldemort Wins
Alternate Universe - Dark
Eventual Romance
Slow Burn
Mirror Sex
Marking
:
 Oral Sex
Rough Sex
Childhood Trauma
Psychological Trauma
Physical Abuse
Sexual Abuse
Healing
Healing Sex
Memory Loss
Villains
Morally Grey Hermione Granger
Explicit Language
Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence
Angst
Dirty Talk
Tags May Change
Character Death
Masturbation
Friendship
Male-Female Friendship
Therapy
POV Draco Malfoy
POV Hermione Granger
POV Theodore Nott
POV Ron Weasley
Canon Rewrite
Sexual Roleplay
POV Ginny Weasley
NSFW Art
English Part 1 of Perfectly in Pieces Universe Next Work → Elite Dramione , Subs_active , I Can’t
Have 100+ Tabs Open. , Old_phone_tbr_2021Katie , WIP Dramione Masterlist , Best Dramione (WIP) ,
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Dramione TBR , To be read my Dramione , Dramione that slays , holy crap dramione is hot , Fav
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that NEED to be read , To all the fics I've read before , Dramione feat. Complete Cast of Slytherin
Babies

Perfectly in Pieces
CDLynn
:
Summary:

A Golden Girl missing.

A Slytherin Prince trapped.
An Order holding secrets.
And a Dark Lord ruling.
Warning: Dark AU (not dark main character) with deep discussions of trauma caused by physical,
emotional, and sexual abuse.
This fic starts out in the midst of the darkness, and shows the trauma, and healing journeys of each
character as they fight to keep as much of themselves as possible, in a world trying to take it all.
(The rape is not between Draco and Hermione)

Notes:

Perfectly in Pieces Audiobook (https://open.spotify.com/show/07rHqGrnNfmXPa5eDiHuY0)

Translation into Português:
Perfectly in Pieces - Tradução em Português (https://archiveofourown.org/works/55471180/chapters/140763145) by
lilithscrolls (https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilithscrolls/pseuds/lilithscrolls)
Translation into Русский:
Вдребезги (Perfectly in Pieces) (https://ficbook.net/readfic/11583641/29760385) by Anne de Beyle
(https://ficbook.net/authors/1493954)
Translation into Deutsche:
Perfectly in Pieces by CDLynn (https://archiveofourown.org/works/47455696/chapters/119589691?view_adult=true) by
Faelar (https://archiveofourown.org/users/Faelar/pseuds/Faelar)
Translation into Español:
PERFECTAMENTE EN PEDAZOS (https://www.wattpad.com/story/300496942-perfectamente-en-pedazos-─────-
traducción) by stupiddramione (https://www.wattpad.com/user/stupiddramione)

Perfectly in Pieces Inspirations:

• The Auction by Lovesbitca8
• Cruel and Beautiful World by Lena Phoria
• Manacled by senlinyu
• The Fallout by everythursday

Author’s note: Trigger warnings, marked areas, and even summaries are given during chapters to
ensure you as a reader can take care of your mental health. They are placed at the end of each chapter in
the notes. Please keep in mind, these characters are young, and are portrayed as such. They have their
moments of maturity, immaturity, contradiction, destruction, and growth.
Updated Policy:
I give permission for PIP and any of my other projects to be bound solely for personal use or gifted. Book
binding commissions are not allowed. Translations are accepted only if properly credited. This story was
given as a gift to others, I expect it to be treated in the same manner. Thank you.

Chapter 1 (http://archiveofourown.org/works/32723953/chapters/81184273) : Theo

Notes:
:
 (See the end of the chapter for notes (#chapter_1_endnotes) .)

"Shit."

Why does the Floo have to be so loud? How has no one invented a Floo system that has the option to
not create the most irritating popping noise in the whole wizarding world? Or a quieter noise, at least.

Theo had this same thought every time he flooed back to his childhood home.
He steps gently out of the fireplace and hears the echo of the pop travel through the expansive
hallways.
He stands there for a moment, holding his breath.
Just listening.
Waiting.
Empty.
Quiet.
"Thank Merlin." He whispers. He takes off both shoes to ensure he doesn't make a sound and starts to
walk quickly to his wing of the manor.

If I can make it to my rooms. That is the goal.

His father hadn't been to his wing in years.

He climbs the stairs, staying to the right side up 12 steps, then leaping to the railing edge for the next 3,
then close to the right again for the final few steps left. He turns right, trying to stay in the shadows, and
keeps his eyes on the floor and ears open.
"The disgrace is back."
"Are you sure? With him in the shadows, and with his new demeanor, I for a moment thought it was his
bitch of a mother."
"Pff to see our line be placed into the hands of a boy who..."
"Always a pleasure Archibald, Francis, Theodore." Theo tips his head at the portraits of his relatives
and then quirks it to the left to keep his curling brown hair out of his vision. Something that became a tick of
his over the past few months as his hair grew longer than he ever had it before. The curls were a bit out of
control. Usually, at a shorter length, they would stay put. But at this length, with them resting on the arch of
his neck and at the beginning of his nose, the buggers got in the way constantly.
They were becoming a problem.
Especially during their last mission while waiting out the appearance of the most recent Order safe
house lead. As he, Blaise, and Draco lay close to the ground with a disillusionment spell wrapped around
them, Blaise had shot him right in the eye with one of Pansy's green hair elastics.
"Shit! Ouch. What was that for?"
"If you don't pull those curls back, they will be the death of you. And if that is the case, I will ensure to
place 'Theodore Nott: Son, Friend, and only Death Eater to die by hair' on your name plaque in the
family mausoleum." Blaise whispered in a fake serious tone.
He scoffed.
"It's funny you think my father would allow my body to be placed in the family mausoleum," Theo
responded darkly, rubbing his watering eye. He was not in the mood for Blaise's humor.
"True." Blaise agreed as he stretched his arms out in front of him into the dew-wet grass. They had
been lying on that damn hill all night. At least 10 hours. No Order safe house or human appeared.
It was the same assignment, just a different place for the last 6 months since the Battle of Hogwarts.
They were to follow the address of the given lead and see if it was true or false. If this lead was valid, Blaise
was in charge of mobilizing the closest Death Eaters to the location by apparition. Draco was in charge of
keeping his eyes solely on the environment to use for the records later by sharing the memory via the
Pensieve, and Theo was in charge of maintaining the disillusionment charm in place. It had been a long time
since one of their leads had been accurate, no complaint from Theo. He added those nights into his memory
:
bank for effective nightmares to ensure he never would sleep well again. That memory bank was
overflowing at this point. He had no desire to add another anytime soon.
"Seriously though, you should cut those springs off soon, or you may be mistaken for the missing
Golden Girl and get yourself into a whole different shit of a mess."
Even the crickets went silent at Blaise's words. Theo saw through his peripheral the man to his right
stop breathing, his eyes stared straight ahead, but Theo watched as they slowly turned blank, lifeless.
Well, more lifeless than usual.
"Really, Blaise? You think that's funny?" Theo turned his gaze to the clueless man to his left.
Blaise was good for a lot of things. Mixing drinks, keeping Pansy under control, snoring so loud that a
silencing charm was needed to be in the same building as him, being in charge of their gambling nights, and
most consistently, missing social cues and being clueless to those around him.
Blaise shrugged nonchalantly, not concerned with the words he just said, and even had the bollocks to
open his mouth and continue, "What, it's true. The longer it gets, the more Granger mane it becomes. Well,
at least what her hair used to look like. Who knows anymore. I heard a rumor that she was mauled by the
werewolves and that Greyback cut it all off and made it into some kind of scarf. He calls it his lion mane. Or
there's the rumor that Bellatrix has her hanging by that frizzy mess from the drawing ro..."
And that is how Blaise got a fat lip. And how Theo had received a black eye from a poorly placed left
hook in retaliation. Missing the culprit to his right that had given Blaise the fat lip in the first place.
"Seriously!? The same damn eye too!" Theo exclaimed as he once again covered his eye.
Blaise nursed his left hand and wiped away the growing trail of blood from the corner of his mouth
with his elbow.
"Sorry, Theo. But what the hell, Frosty!? What was that for?" Blaise said in a voice too loud for their
current situation.
"Shit, keep your voice down, Zabini! Actually, better yet, how about you don't open your mouth
again?" Theo said as he looked over at the tosser with his one good eye. Trying to show him with a look
how much easier or harder he could make the next few hours with how he responded at that moment.
Blaise looked up at him, clearly not understanding why he was just punched in the mouth, but with a
quick glance to the man at the end who was once again staring straight ahead, not even looking down at his
newly bruised knuckles, he decided to keep his mouth shut.
Smart man. Well, kind of.
They sat in silence for what felt like hours. Watching the sun trying to push through the engulfing dark
clouds overhead. Theo went back to the regular mind game he played during these long nights of boredom;
he started listing off complex potions, spells, and recipes as accurately as possible. He would check when he
got back home. He tried to stick to the subject of healing as they were the ones he thought would be most
helpful in their current environment.
He was very good at it. He had been offered an internship with Pomfrey during his 6th year in the
infirmary to work alongside her and learn more about the craft after successfully ensuring Draco's wounds
from Potter didn't kill him before she could get to him. She had praised him for his work as his hands shook,
creating little pools of his best friend's blood on the stone floor. He was used to handling his own blood, but
not others. He actually hated blood. Hated how sticky it was. How it got into every crack and crevice and
was extremely hard to get off. He had learned sometimes it was easiest to just wait until it had hardened
before trying. It was all too intimate for him.
"This lead is dead. We've been staring at a field for 12 hours." Draco said the first words he had spoken
since they started the mission.
"I think you're right. Where did this lead come from?"
"Not sure. Was never told."
So Draco was still not in the Dark Lord's good graces.
"Whose turn is it?" Theo changed positions and straightened his back, leading to several cracks up his
spine. These stake-out missions were getting old.
"Blaise."
"What? No, it's not. I literally did it last mission, fell down that damn cavern, and..."
"Blaise, now." Draco never looked his way.
"Who made you in charge, huh?"
:
 Theo began to roll his eyes until a stab of pain went up to his swelling shiner. So he rolled one. "Blaise,
just go so we can get out of here."
Blaise stared at Theo for a moment before mumbling a group of profanities under his breath and
standing up. Theo watched as he tried to keep a shoddy disillusionment charm on himself as he trudged up
the hill where the Order safe house was supposed to be.
"Third dead end in a row."
He said as he stared ahead, watching Blaise stumble in an area of the field that was much wetter than it
looked. The bottom half of his body disappeared into the tall grass as his arms flailed to keep his other half
upright.
"Shi!.." Blaise disappeared.
"Yes." That was all Draco said. A couple of silent seconds went by as Blaise recovered and continued
to scout the area.
"So... the Greyback rumor is... new." Theo was treading on thin ice. And his hesitant tone showed he
knew it. There was no response. "Do we need a plan?"
Theo saw Draco's eyes change just a fraction, and his hand twitched, so Theo waited. Knowing the
signs of the man next to him like he knew his own. He watched as Draco let out a breath. A long breath that
released some of the tension in his shoulders and made his face softer.
"We'll talk after the lead deliberation today."
Theo shook his head once in agreement.
"Okay, are you coming straight after? Or has the Dark Lord requested your presence for tonight?"
"No."
Blaise made his way back to them. And the look of fury he gave Draco was almost as memorable as
the sludge he was covered in. Almost.
"You both owe me scout rounds for the next 4 fucking missions!" He said as he waved his wand and
quickly cast a scourgify to remove his fall's remnants in the marsh. "I mean it, you arseholes."
Theo looked over at Draco as he pulled out a cigarette and handed the pack over to the tall blonde.
"I give him a 6 for the try of recovery and an 8 for the splash."
Draco snickered under a small huff of air as he placed a cigarette between his lips and lit it with
wordless magic.
"Nah, the cavern drop was an 8. That lil' pirouette I give a 7 at best."
He throws the cigarette pack into Blaise's chest.
"I hate you both so much." He muttered as he gingerly placed one in the corner of his mouth that didn't
showcase a swelling gash.
"You could always request to be placed with our fathers. I hear they are a delight to work with. What
with all the raiding, and torture, and oh don't forget genocide!" Theo said, filled with satire as he played with
the smoke rings he made.
"Sounds like a party," Blaise mumbled. "At the rate these leads are going, we will probably end up on
the receiving end of your dear ole' dads sooner than later. What is this the third dead-end lead in a row?"
The only form of acknowledgment was a slight nod from the blonde to his left. Theo took a long inhale
and held it in the back of his throat. Feeling for a second a small amount of control.
That was his favorite part about cigarettes. Not the nicotine, but the smoke. He loved the control he had
over it. He loved maneuvering it, shaping it, holding it, creating it. He believed himself an artist due to the
things he could do with that little stick in his mouth alight. The smoke, the control, that was the addiction.
But like all addictions, it was short-lived. The smoke began to dissipate in the organic and chemical
reaction of the fluid and space in his throat.
He tried to hold on to it.
Keep it his captive.
Cage it.
But it was all smoke in the first place, his control. He opened his mouth and coughed slightly. The tears
stung his black eye.

"It's not our fault that these leads are shit. We are doing our job laying on these damn hills, hiding
:
behind rocks, or leaning up against trees for days on end in shitty, rainy weather." Blaise let out small gusts
of smoke in his frustration. "Merlin, I need a night with a hot shower, a shepherd's pie, and my bed. I miss
my bed."
"You miss Pansy." Draco quirked.
"I miss Pansy in all of the above. In a shower, in a bed..."
"In a shepherd's pie? Come on, Blaise, I know you two are kinky, and we are henchmen of the evilest
Dark Lord to ever face the wizarding world, but that is a little too far in even my book." Theo laughed at
himself.

Merlin, I'm hilarious .

"I was going to say, in my bed with shepherd's pie covering some fascinating places arsehole. Which
we have done, by the way. Not to take away your innocence." He triumphantly gawks at Theo. "What was
the 'lil quip in our house the last few years? Oh yes, Theo Nott, the only Head Boy to never receive head!"
Blaise fake saluted him with his middle finger as he said the words.
"Didn't ever get to be given Head Boy, thanks to our forever powerful Dark Lord," Theo mumbled as
he flipped his head to the left to move those blasted brown curls out of his eyes. It was more irritating with
the now wounded one.
"Oh, come on, we all know you would have been. Draco here tried to give you a run for your money,
but with the whole order to kill one of the most powerful wizards in history during 6th year making him
preoccupied, you pulled ahead." Blaise tried to use wordless magic on the gash on his lip, but it stayed put.
"Just think of all the fun we would have had visiting you. Raiding your fridge and eating all that expensive
imported shit you love, gambling nights in the common area, throwing up on that hideous rug you say
shows you have taste. Oh, and don't forget the best part! Driving Gryffindor's Princess insane. Seriously, I
can imagine her face seeing us all playing strip poker in your common area or shaving that hideous kneazle
of hers. Or switching out her shampoo with some color-changing dye from the joke shop. Or making up
some quip about how the Head Girl wasn't any good at giv..."
"Enough."
Both Theo and Blaise looked towards Draco. His head was bowed, and his eyes were closed.
Blaise really could be a prick sometimes.
"If you're finished, I can apparate us to the scouting barracks and then leave you from there to take care
of the liaison and paperwork."
Draco was all business now. The tension was back in his shoulders; his breaths came far too short and
far too few. And his grey eyes were lifeless again.
"Zabini, you were requested to stay as the middleman for the scouts' sector to represent the unit."
He handed him a letter with the paperwork. Blaise inhaled slowly, all the exhaustion he held in coming
into view.
"Great. That means I have to deal with Flint. And tiny beds. And Flint. And water they call soup. And
moans and groans all night from the infirmary. And cold water showers. And oh, did I mention? Flint."
"Pansy is there as well."
Blaise's whole demeanor changed in an instant.
"Well, why didn't you bloody say so!? Why are we shitting around smoking here when I could be
getting laid? Let's go." Blaise placed his arm on Draco's, quickly grabbed Theo's, and placed it on Draco's
other arm, making Theo flinch slightly and a weight press against his chest.
"You can stay and watch if you like Nott. Give you some pointers."
Theo dropped the cigarette on the ground and stepped on it. "Not a food kink kind of guy, Zabini. You
enjoy your shepherd's pie."
"See, saying things like that just shows you are a virgin, Nott. Merlin's sake, you even say kink wrong.
Have you ever even..."
The swirl and intense sensation of Draco apparating them thankfully drowned out the rest of Blaise's
sentence.
Theo reaches the door to his rooms without hearing another sound from the house. It had been 2 weeks
since the last time he had been home. Gone with Draco and following up on gossip and information. He
:
opens his door and enters his section of the manor.
It is a collection of 11 rooms he had renovated to make his own little house inside the manor. The only
entrance was the one door he had just walked through, and the floo fireplace in his bedroom only allowed
his small group of trusted snakes in.

These 11 rooms are his safe space.

3 bedrooms, a kitchen, a game room, 2 bathrooms, a balcony, a library, a sitting room, an office, and
the entry room where he places his Death Eater robes in the wardrobe by the door.
He takes a deep breath, feeling exhausted after another night with no sleep, and decides to see the
damage done to his eye. He makes his way to the ensuite bathroom attached to his private bedroom.
The room matches the exquisite tastes of the rest of the small home within a home. What Blaise
consistently calls gaudy, tacky, old-lady-tits-of-a-style, Theo loves. Yes, everything has a pattern. There is
embroidery on every piece of fabric within the space in dark maroons, greens, and tans. The many pieces of
furniture that take up most of the area are all victorian style and grandiose. He feels like a king in every
single one of them. He loves that little lie of a feeling.
But what he cherishes the most, and what his friends despise regularly, are his priceless historical
artifacts they call knick-knacks that make the space feel more like a museum than a home. Or a glimpse into
the mind of an extreme hoarder, as Blaise liked to put it. Theo would always just roll his eyes.

Why in the world would I ever be affected by the opinion of someone who owns a bean bag for
furniture and proudly?

He has been collecting artifacts, publications, artwork, and transcriptions for as long as he can
remember, and he knows the history of every piece in his little oasis. Like he knows the last piece Blaise
broke during a game of 'how many times can I throw my ball into the same stain on the ceiling' was a one-
of-a-kind, charmed musical box that held the original sound of the first Hat Sorting taking place at
Hogwarts. It was priceless and now gone forever. Every time, Theo would magically create a plaque for the
lost artifact, trying to preserve its place in history as much as possible.
'The Bedillion Charmed Music Box, holding the original sound of the first-ever Hat Sorting
taking place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Destroyed by Blaise Zabini and his
balls.'
There are currently 22 plaques sitting in spots as ghosts of the Zabini-destroyed-exceptional artifacts.
Sure maybe it would be nice to add a few more rooms to help make the area more spacious, but he didn't
even have the time to cast and create a hair cutting spell nowadays. When would he find the time to
magically enhance his rooms, again? He looks around discreetly as he walks. Nothing has been touched. Of
course not. Not even the house elves are allowed in these rooms. He stands in front of the large vanity in his
bathroom and slowly looks up.

Fuck I do look like my mother. Francis wasn't lying.

Even though he was all over the globe the last two weeks, his face doesn't even have a 5 o'clock
shadow. He couldn't grow facial hair to save his life even now at 19. He could sign his existence and entire
body over to the darkest wizard that ever was but couldn't grow a beard.
Oh, the irony.
In 6th year, Adrian Pucey had come back sporting a very impressive, and not patchy at all, beard. It
surprised him and also made him highly envious. So he had tried to create a potion to help him with his
facial hair growth. It had gone horribly wrong. Instead of allowing the follicles around his mouth and chin to
grow, it enhanced the hair follicles already there. His eyebrows took over his whole forehead extending into
his actual hairline. And his eyelashes were 5 inches long (yes, they actually measured them) before he went
to the infirmary to have Pomfrey countercurse his potion.
All this to say, he had a babyface. Always had, always would, he supposed. It gave him a look of slight
feminism, not helping with all the other associations he has from his mother.
He has her olive-green eyes that were soft and wide, her wispy brown hair that curled as it got longer,
:
her a shade darker than pale skin tone that still showed the hues of color when flushed, and the small patch
of freckles at the base of his neck. All his mother. At least that's what the pictures show.
And the fact that his father was almost the opposite of him in every way. He is glad he looks like his
mother. She was beautiful. And he was average-looking himself. That is, he was before he had gotten that
damn mark on his arm. Now he was paler. He had gained weight as his stress levels increased, unlike others
he knew, like Daphne Greengrass, who seemed to be trying to disappear with her weight loss caused by the
stress of the world they were placed in. The dark purple under his eyes made his green eyes look dull, faded.
He breaks eye contact with himself and grabs his wand.
"Accio healer kit." A large leather bag floats into the bathroom and lands on the vanity. He opens it and
starts to look for the few things he needs to heal his eye. It was nothing serious. Some Bruise Removal
Paste, a Deflating Draught, and a hot compress would probably do the trick. He looks to the back left pocket
and finds the jar empty.
"Shit..." He says under his breath. "Shit." He repeats it as he wishes he could make the Deflating
Draught appear with his frustration alone.
He knew where he could refill his bottle. It really wasn't smart of him to have these supplies empty.
Draco would have been dead 6th year and at the Battle of Hogwarts if they were. But the idea of leaving his
safety and crossing to the other side of the manor...
"Shit."
He looks through the rest of the bag and sees which other supplies he should grab while in his father's
potion room. He makes a mental checklist of the four other reserves he should fill, leaves the bathroom, and
walks towards the door.
His hand twitches on the handle.

Damn it, get it together, Theo. You have been bigger than him and more intelligent than him since you
were 14. Plus, no one is here. You didn't hear a sound walking up here. You know when father is home, there
are always sounds.

He slowly opens the door handle, listens again for a few moments before convincing himself of his
little pep talk, and quietly starts down the hallway.
189 steps.
That's how many it would take to get to the potion room. Steps 111 through 164 were the ones with the
track record of being the most dangerous.
He was on 67... 68... 69... now.
Still not a noise.

He isn't home. He has a meeting tonight at Malfoy Manor, you know this. Just calm down.

His body doesn't listen to him. No matter how hard he tries, his lungs refuse to expand, and his heart
rate refuses to slow down.
109... 110... 111...
Shit, his eye doesn't hurt that bad. He has undoubtedly dealt with way worse and survived. He should
just go back to his room. Yes, just use a hot towel and some disinfectant.
135... 136... 137...
He sees that his father's study door is wide open, but the lights are off. Yes, the devil isn't home.
"Thank Merlin." He whispers under his breath as he reaches step 165.
Only a few more before he could open the potion room and be safe again. He lets some of the tension
out of his shoulders and stands taller as he walks with more confidence and less fear. He really should also
grab some murtlap, not that he was low, but better to...
"AGH!"
Theo stops in his tracks. He is frozen only a few feet away from his destination. What was that? He
stands waiting.
Quite.
Alone.
:
 He is convinced that his mind made up the sound. It had the tendency to do some crazy shit every once
in a while, and he hadn't slept in three nights, so it was plausible.

Yeah, it's just your shitty-smart-as-hell brain convincing you that you are dying. Nothing out of the
ordinary for you, Theo boy...

"No... Please no... Sto, sto, stoooppp... No, noo, no, no AGH!"

The screams are coming from behind him. Theo closes his eyes as he turns and listens again. He can
hear what sounds like a weight sliding and something pounding against the wall to his left.

Shit, not to the left...

He hears a loud sound that is all too familiar to be anything other than a hand hitting flesh. He flinches
as a short, weak noise leaves the victim. Now only soft whimpers are leaving her.
Her.
Yes, it is definitely a female.

He took her to the left room...

Theo can feel the bile coming up his throat as he sinks into the shadows of the hallway and listens to
the sounds of his father brutalizing a woman. Amongst the intense feeling of horror and disgust comes
confusion. His father never brings his women to the left room. Why this one? He also may have been harder
on his lovers; Theo had some unfortunate experiences of hearing his father in the act, and while there were
some smacking noises and whimpers, they always had an edge of pleasure to them, more of a moan. These
screams are blood-curdling. Full of deep pain and turmoil he also has unfortunately become accustomed to
over the years.
All of a sudden, the noises stop. His father must have put a silencing charm up around the room...
"You bitch!" A sudden thud against something. He kicked her, no doubt.
Shit, his father was leaving, and he was standing here like an absolute idiot in the hallway, right in his
line of fire. Theo quickly runs back into the main entryway and positions himself as if he just came through
the floo. His mind isn't even thinking at this point. His body is just reacting, surviving. He takes a few steps
and pretends to wipe off the dust from the front of his robes as his father comes around the corner. They
both look up, make eye contact, and just stare.
And the weight begins to press harder and harder.
Theo sees his clothes are still disheveled and bloody as he tries to tuck things back into place. What is
left of his head of hair is all in wild points and lines. But what is most noticeable is his ear. It is bleeding a
lot. Theo can't be sure from this distance, but he thinks that it suddenly looks much smaller than his other
one...
Theo's father quickly raises his hand and covers the evidence.
"Theo."
"Father."
They continue to stare. The weight continues to press.
"Another dead end, I presume?" It really isn't a question, so Theo doesn't answer it.
"Why is your ear bleeding?"
His father lets out an angry huff of breath and fists his other hand against his side. His knuckles are
bruised and bloody.

Whose blood is it?

"I got myself a new toy." He said in almost a whisper, his mind clearly going elsewhere already.
Whatever the new 'toy' was, it was obviously not very appealing to him. "Feel free to use it as you see fit.
Just keep it alive. Dark Lord's orders."
:
 He pauses to tear the bottom of his dress shirt and place the cloth on the damaged ear. "As long as you
don't mind being tunnel buddies with your old man."

Tunnel buddies? What the hell does that mean?

Theo nods his head in acknowledgment. His father nods back and starts to walk towards the section of
the manor holding his rooms, to change is Theo's guess.
"My new mission begins tonight after the meeting. I will be gone until the Mudbloods are exterminated
from the Scandinavian area."
He says this like he is going out to pick up a carton of milk.
"Of course, father. Best of luck."
His father doesn't turn around at his words but scoffs at the air in front of him. Thankfully, he is tired,
or this altercation probably would have gone much differently.
Theo waits for his father to turn the corner before running back into his rooms. As he shuts the door
behind him, he falls to the floor.
He can't breathe.
He can hear his heart in his ears like the Hogwarts Express coming down the line.
He looks up and sees the small black spots in his vision.
Panic attack.
The room is getting smaller.
His chest is starting to burn.
He starts to pull at his hair.
He can't breathe.
He can hear his heart in his ears like the Hogwarts Express coming down the line.
He looks up and sees the small black spots in his vision.
Panic attack.
The room is getting smaller.
His chest is starting to burn.
He starts to pull at his hair.
He can't breathe...

Breathe, damn you, you are fine. Brain, you are fine. Heart, you are fine. Theo, you are fine. Merlin's
tits, work lungs! Theo, you are fine.

He closes his eyes and lays in a ball on the floor for who knows how long. Waiting for the paranoia and
panic to leave his body.
Breathe in... 228... Breathe out... 229...
He can't do this right now. There is a girl in the left room. He needs to help her. He needs to go now.
But his body won't let him get up. It won't even let him breathe.
You never get used to panic attacks. He thought someday he might, but after 10 years of having them
pretty consistently, he knows your body never gets used to feeling like it is dying.
Because even if the soul is already dead, sometimes the brain doesn't want to cooperate.
Breathe in... 313... Breathe out 314...
The faint sound of the floo pop makes it to his room. His father has left. Somehow it is easier to
breathe automatically.
"Theo, you're fine. Theo, you're fine."
He sits up and puts his hands above his head, taking in a couple more deep breaths before standing up.

There is a girl in the left room.

He opens the door and runs back down the corridor.

The left room is my room. Only my room. The left room is ...
:
 Theo can't finish that thought as his chest tightens up again. Nope, his body was already on edge
enough at the moment. He doesn't have the mental ability to handle those dark thoughts.

Do you have enough to enter the damn room?

His feet falter for a second but quickly keep going. There is a girl in the left room. Of course, he had to
go in and get her. He would close his eyes until he needed them open and then just squint, only look at the
girl. Get her out and then shut the door as quickly as possible.

Wow, what an ingenious plan there would-have-been Head Boy. Close your eyes, and run, brilliant.
This is why Draco is the strategist...

He stops in front of the door on the left. The door looks like every other door in the manor, nothing
special about it at all. But he knew the truth. He pauses for only a second as his hand touches the doorknob.
Any longer, and his cowardice would win out. Theo closes his eyes, and the door doesn't make a sound as he
quickly opens it and enters the lightless hole. He opens his undamaged eye to a crease and makes out the
form of a body on the floor to his right.

Okay, grab her and go. Grab her and go. Grab her and...

His whole body convulses as he looks at the supposed person in front of him.
She is naked.
She is unconscious.
She is bleeding.
She is bruised.
She is bound.
She is...
Theo's eyes widen from their creases at the realization.
"Shit."

Notes:

TW!! - Physical abuse towards the end of the chapter.

Embedded art by Dara:
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Cover art by Alissa Raut
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