CW: Death Eater BADNESS!

She had been afraid when she had come outside. Terrified. It was the first emotion that she had been able to settle on when she reality of what she had done had really sunk in. She had run outside when she had heard Devin screaming. She was not the hero. Sasha had never been that person, not once in her life. But she had run outside anyway, without thinking about it. It was probably the only Gryffindor thing that she had ever done in her life and she had been terrified. Once her mind had caught up to her, she had realized that there was little point in trying to stop what was happening. But it was too late to go back or undo what she’d done. Even if she could, she wasn’t sure that she would. Even as her mind wasn’t on it at the current time, she hadn’t wanted Devin to die. She didn’t want him to die, nor did she think herself capable of losing him. That had been what was on her mind, when she had run outside.

Now she had no reason to be afraid. Any thought of fear was far from her mind. Even the thoughts of why she had come out here were fading from her. Not wanting to lose Devin had slipped from the forefront of her mind, not wanting to die herself had too. In fact, in doing her worse, she knew that she would likely bring that up. Him thinking about her death too would probably make this even harder on him. He seemed to like to play the part of the protector. He had done it before, time and time again really. Even if it had been small at some points--him sleeping next to her at night to keep her warm, him giving her a plate of food when he had extra… the better plate of food, even. He seemed to want to save her, and how easy would that be to use against him? His weaknesses seemed easy enough to understand, from what she knew of him anyway. Sasha couldn’t pretend to know his life story, to know how to use that against him.

She knew nothing of his family. She knew nothing of his life outside of Hogwarts because they didn’t talk about that sort of thing. They didn’t discuss their lives in great detail. That would require her actually tolerating him during the day, and she didn’t. She didn’t talk to him. The only time that she really spoke to him at all was at night and their families weren’t topics that came up. It was too bad, really. That would be a good road to go down… families could be such sore topics. Merlin knew that hers was. As much as she wanted her life to be perfect, as much as it had been in many ways, her parents had distanced themselves from her the moment that they found out she was a witch. Summer after summer, they were around less and less. As much as she missed them, and wanted to think that they missed her… maybe they were glad that she was gone. She had no way of knowing. That was her secret.

And she thought that was a good reason why she didn’t talk about anything that mattered with Devin Wright. It meant that she didn’t have his family to use against him, but he had other weaknesses. He liked to play white knight and help her when he could. Clearly she was a weakness, even if he didn’t want to admit it. His pride was another--that wasn’t news. She had gone to school with him for years. Between the two, she thought that she could do some serious damage. It was what she had to work with, at least. The fact that she didn’t have more knowledge of his past was unfortunate but there was no way to change that now. Her closeness to him seemed to do what she had wanted. She could see it, just from the look in his eyes when he looked at her, and he thought that she was going to kiss him. Sasha was nearly surprised that he hadn’t closed the distance himself, but it was better that way. The point wasn’t to give him what he wanted--it was to realize that he never had a chance of having it at all.

Sasha’s words were having an effect on him, and she could tell. That was perhaps surprising more than anything else, because he had never been one to show when he was upset. It was from the physical and mental torture that he had already been put through. She knew that. If the Death Eater hadn’t already stripped him raw, hadn’t already taken so much from him, it wouldn’t be so easy to get this kind of reaction from him. She was doing her worst, as she had been asked. There was no holding back when the order had been clear. But the Death Eater spoke again, and her gaze moved briefly to him, and then back over to Devin. If he wanted her to keep going, then she would keep going. Not doing what he asked wasn’t an idea that even occurred to her, and why would she stop? He was scum. He had failed her. She was out here because of him.

She was going to die because of him. She had come out here for him, and he had done nothing to protect her. He deserved to hear all of this, and then it would be over. “You think because you fucked me once, you matter to me?” She shook her head, but still she continued. She had to continue. He had told her to. “I don’t remember you even asking if I was interested before you just took what you wanted from me.” Sasha let those words settle for a moment. She thought that could hit him hard. The implication that she hadn’t wanted him, and he had taken her anyway. It wasn’t true, of course. She had wanted him right back, but she wasn’t sure the little white knight could handle thinking that he had forced himself on her. “Thought I’d remind you of that. Just so you don’t die thinking you’re a good person…”

Content warning: Death Eater Badness


Bellatrix was growing bored and restless. Her voice rang shrill in his ears. She wanted more. She wanted screams--needed to hear them echoing down this street. These silly mind games were nothing to her. Rabastan wanted nothing more than to please her. So, when the whispers echoed in his ears--the little ideas that she was planting in his mind (or that he was planting in his own mind, if she really was just his imagination) were absolutely irresistible.

Any other purist would have called him insane for even considering it. But he was delighted with the twisted thought--the melding of his desire to scar the psyche with her desire to inflict pain was too perfect. Ruffling through his robes, it took him a moment, but then he found it! His wand! It was a beautiful conduit, well suited to the Dark Arts. He had no use for it, but still carried it around. There was something sentimental about having a wand. Sometimes he liked to just take it out and toy with it---

But now! Tonight! Having it served an actual purpose!

"Come to me," he ordered, gesturing for the girl to approach. When she did, he turned her until her back pressed to his chest and the pair of them were looking down on the pathetic mudblood bloke. He guided her arm up and slipped his wand into her hand. His own hand grasped around hers and he guided her down until the end of the conduit was pointed at the boy.

"Now, little magic thief," Rabastan purred, growing more giddy by the moment. "I will show you true power." Bellatrix was elated again. Her nearly corporeal form skipped about in his peripheral. She was so eager to hear the beautiful music of a victim's cries. This was what she had lived for--and it pleased her now, even if the girl was a mudblood, to see another woman hurt a man.

"You must perform this curse with feeling. All your hatred, all your rage," he urged. The anticipation was palpable. The air felt thicker around him and he was more enthusiastic every passing moment. It was so delightful to experience someone's first Unforgivable. The spells truly were like no other magic known to man. He wasn't sure the girl would be able to do it, but he had high hopes--and he was going to assist--so even if she couldn't, the spell would be cast and the boy would writhe and scream once more.

"Now, say it with me," the Lestrange commanded. His voice rang out with excited glee. His eyes were wild--this would be sure to please Trixie. She was already happier. Her joy was better to him than any elixir and far more difficult to come by. He could only hope that this mudblood, with the influence he provided through the Imperius, would have the capacity to perform the spell. It would not please Bellatrix as much if it was just him.

So, leaning forward, his hand tightly gripping the girl's he cried out: "CRUCIO!"

Her mind was only on hurting Devin as much as possible. She knew how to do that. She knew how to exploit weaknesses and make people hurt. Not with violence. Sasha had never been a person that had to resort to violence all that often. Words could hurt so much more--mind games could have lasting pain and so when the Death Eater had told her to do her worst, that was exactly what she had been prepared to do. She had to use what she knew about him. That wasn’t too much, in all honesty. For being the boy that she slept next to for months, Sasha couldn’t say that she knew much of anything about him. She had never had a reason to get to know him. He kept her warm at night, because the apartment was freezing otherwise. She ignored him during the day, just so make sure that it was clear to him that them sleeping next to each other at night meant nothing. It didn’t give her much to work with, when it came to playing mind games with him.

But she thought that she knew enough. She was observant enough, she had seen enough of him, to know what would cut the deepest. As much as she wouldn’t want to admit it to herself at any other time, she thought that she was one of his weaknesses. Sasha thought that she could use that against him, and so when the opportunity came for her to call into question the one night that they had done more than sleep, she had taken it. She thought that if he knew she had wanted him too… but with all the pain that he had already suffered tonight, calling it into question now would probably be the only time that something like this would work. If she had done it in any other circumstances, he’d probably call her bluff, or make some comment that would piss her off or embarrass her. Sasha didn’t think that it would work, in any other situation. But in this one she thought that it would. And he could let that be his last thoughts, which was certainly her definition of doing her worst.

The Death Eater was speaking again, and so she immediately shifted to stand back up. Not listening to what he said was just not something that had even crossed her mind yet. Instead, she had gone back over to him, and she didn’t even react as he turned her or when her back was pressed to him. Her focus was not on being so close to a Death Eater that she had been terrified of only minutes before. He had told her to come over to him so that was exactly what she had done. Her eyes moved to his wand, though, once he’d slipped it into her hand. A real wand. She hadn’t held a real wand in nearly a year and it was strange how different it felt from the stick that she had been given… that was hardly even worth being called a wand, but this was different. She could feel the magic. Sasha didn’t move as he continued, letting him explain what he wanted.

The wand was pointed at Devin, and she knew what he was explaining. They had been taught dark arts instead of defense against the dark arts this past year, after all. She didn’t have to know about dark magic more than what she’d been told in class to know what spell he was talking about. Not doing what he asked still hadn’t even crossed her mind. A part of her knew that she didn’t want to hurt Devin, but a far bigger part of her knew that Rabastan had told her to do her worse, and she was just doing what he had asked. “Crucio…” Her voice was clear as she said the spell with him, and the familiar flash of red came from the wand.

Content Warning: Death Eater Badness!


Rabastan had absolute confidence in the strength and resilience of his Imperius. He knew the curse would hold when he forced the girl to perform the Cruciatus. She would be powerless to resist his encouragement. The only question was whether or not the little mudblood bint would have the capacity to actually perform the dark magic. He did not expect much from her, which was why he held the conduit as well. The curse was not only being cast by her, but by him as well. He did not require the wand, but funneled his magic through it all the same.

The vibrant red flash burst from the end of the wand—finding its target and grabbing hold of the boy. The Lestrange heard Bellatrix squeal with joy before dissolving into maniacal cackling. She so loved this magic. It was in so many ways her legacy.

The delight she showcased motivated Rabastan to draw out the curse. He could feel himself growing more and more tired. Any casting after this one would be less. He had had a very long night of murder and mayhem already, even before finding this rule breaker out on his little rebellious smoke break. Surely, the bloke’s spirit was broken now. There would be no possibility for rebellion in the future. This pathetic sod would likely throw himself off the roof of one of this shithole buildings soon enough. Fully recovering from experiences like this was rare.

The Lestrange kept his fingers gripped tightly around Sasha’s, kept the curse sustained until he could do it no longer—they’d tortured the boy for a bit over a minute…now to let the girl see just what she had done. Sasha would remember everything—all the horrible things she had said…and more importantly what she had just done to Devin. She had cursed him for well over four times the length of time she had been under the curse herself.

What had been done to Devin was not quite as severe as what had been done to the Longbottom couple that put him, Trix, Roddie and Jr in Azkaban that first time. Rabastan had been younger then—no damage from his time in prison—and, of course, there had been the four of them. Bella had done the worst of it. She had possessed more power than Rabastan had ever dreamed of managing. His abilities in offensive magic had never matched hers, even as it surpassed most other peoples.

Plucking the wand from Sasha’s grasp, the Lestrange gave her temple another tap as his lips moved in a soundless incantation. The Imperius Curse was lifted. Even Bellatrix, who rarely appreciated his mind games, was eager to see the girl crumble in the wake of what she had done. A shrill and delighted giggle of anticipation rang out, echoing in his ears in the Black’s eternally familiar soprano. What would happen now? Oh, the delightful show he had created for them!!!

Content Warning: DE badness for the bby


This night had devolved from bad to so much worse. His mind was spinning—and all of him hurt. He had been angry when he first came outside, but that felt like an eternity ago now, almost like a different life. The boy who had ventured out to have his little smoke break was not the boy broken there in the dirt. Devin was not angry anymore. He was too overcome by other emotion to feel that now. Regret choked him---despair crushed his chest. His entire body ached unimaginably. Every part of him hurt.

Rabastan had seen to that. The Death Eater had put Devin through minutes of the torture curse. The physical pain caused by the magic had caused his muscles to seize and tense—that tenseness lingered, as did the weary ache that it left behind. He would be feeling the after effects of this for days…if he lived to see morning. Death seemed absolutely unavoidable now. He was ready to welcome it. Especially once Sasha started in on him.

She could have hit him—thrown dirt in his eyes. But she didn’t. She didn’t try anything physical. Rabastan had ordered the girl to do her worst and Merlin’s beard, she was. Devin was so hung up on her that he was glad. He was glad she was tearing into him. Her cold, harsh words seemed to please the Death Eater—and Devin was relieved. Maybe this meant that Rabastan would let Sasha go. He could take the verbal lashing. He could take anything—he just didn’t want to be the cause of something bad happening to the girl. He was the man here. He should have been able to protect her—or at least, not have done something so stupid to have gotten her into this situation in the first place.

It hurt him to hear what she said. Of course it did. The boy was bloody crazy about her. He couldn’t help it. He loved the fire she had—that edgy attitude---he was into it. He liked the way that even the slightest backhanded compliment from her could feel. Like when he had cooked huevos con chorizo and she had said he should cook more often. That had been a win. That had been her saying she liked his food. That’d been one of the nicer things she had said to him—and it had made him feel really good. It shouldn’t have though…

It was dumb to care about her. He was never going to be good enough. He knew that. He could have some purpose for her here, but not whenever the world was set to rights…She would leave this place and never look back. He was a kid from the wrong part of town and she was not one of those posh girls that came to the ghetto looking for some rough and tumble bloke that would shock her parents. She was better than that, better than him. All that they had was here---and even that wasn’t much. They really only had the nights.

Further prompting came from the Death Eater—and Devin tried to keep his face blank. He didn’t think it bothered Sasha to hurt him, but he wanted to make this as easy for her as he could. He wanted her to keep going. He wanted her to do whatever she needed to do to make this demented son of a bitch happy—whatever it took to keep her from getting punished. He could take anything. He was happy to be able to save her from anymore suffering in any way he could.

His eyes showed the truth though. All of him was hurting. His heart clinched at the sight of Sasha bloodied like this. He hated Rabastan intensely, but at least the Death Eater wasn’t subjecting the girl to the Torture Curse. Whatever she said now was okay—just as long as Rabastan did not touch her again. Or that was what Devin thought. The venom in Sasha’s tone stabbed at the soft bits of his heart. He thought he was ready, but he wasn’t. What she said—about what he had done—he wasn’t ready for that at all. His face morphed into one of shock and disgust. He wretched and dry heaved as he thought he might vomit. Had he really taken advantage of her? Had she not wanted it?

She was right. He hadn’t explicitly asked. She hadn’t said yes. She hadn’t said she wanted him…maybe he had read all the signs wrong. He couldn’t look at her. He couldn’t face her now. If he really was a rapist, he deserved all that had happened to him today and so much worse. The mental damage that Rabastan’s magic had already done to his mind made him far too vulnerable to this attack. His fists clenched and he closed his body on itself. How could he have done that? How could he be that person? He had been so lustful that night—but that was no excuse. There was no excuse. That wasn’t him. That couldn’t be.

His mind was spinning out of control as self hate wash over him in brutal waves. Devin was crumbling. He didn’t even notice as Rabastan pulled out a wand and Sasha got all cozy with the bastard. Dev couldn’t think. He couldn’t breathe. This was all too much for him. Then, the curse hit him again. His face jerked up and he saw her…Rabastan’s hand clinched over Sasha’s—but her holding the wand. She had a wand…a real wand…and she was cursing him with it.

He really must have done what she said for her to cast this spell on him. His mind kept reiterating that as his screams rippled out through the night air. No one peaked from any of the grimy windows. No one wanted to see, because no one wanted to be seen. To intercede was to end up tortured---The pain caused his vision to go fuzzy. His eyes clinched closed and still, he could see her: Sasha cursing him. He deserved it. He deserved it. He deserved it. Over and over, his mind reiterated that to him. The pain seemed never ending.

His arms and legs twitched and seized—his body convulsing as the dark magic coursed through him. The curse seemed never ending. His face shifted from vibrant red towards blue as he felt as if his lungs were collapsing inside. He could not breathe. No matter how he tried to suck air in, he couldn’t do it. Devin hadn’t believed that the torture curse could kill, but surely he was able to die. Eventually, somehow, air rushed back inside his lungs. As it did, he cried out, wailing in pain, as tears began to streak down his face again. Devin could not keep himself from responding to the torture this way. Sasha had made so much fun of him for crying, but how could he not? Seconds under the magic drug upwards towards a minute and he was ready to beg for death. He would have, if only he had been able to form speech, but his lips and tongue could do nothing for him. He could only wail in agony.

Then it was over….It stopped and his body curled on itself. Devin was shaking. His arms hugged his torso. Sobs caused his body to shudder. The pain had broken the last bit of self-control he had. There was no pride left in this moment. He was drowning in shame and self-hate. The last thing Sasha had said to him played over and over in his memory. He could only hope that the Death Eater would end him now—and this would be over.

Everything had left her mind--everything except for what the Death Eater had asked of her. It was the only focus that she found herself needing under the rush of the Imperius Curse. Sasha just needed to do what he had asked and nothing more. First that had come from her doing her worst, and her weapons had always been words. Any other form of causing pain hadn’t even come to her mind. She didn’t think that there was much that she could do that would actually hurt him physically. Not after everything he had already been through. There was no way that anything she could do would cause pain anything like Rabastan’s. There was little point in trying to compete with something like that. It had made much more sense for her to tear him down with words. That was something that Sasha had known she was capable of--more than capable of, really. It was something that she had always been good at.

It had been all about determining what was going to hurt him the most. She didn’t know too much about him but she thought that she knew enough. Sasha thought that he cared about her, and she knew that he liked playing the part of the hero, no matter how he acted the rest of the time. He had come to her rescue before. In small ways--in keeping her warm at night, in giving her food when he had extra, and in carrying her up to their apartment when the torture she’d been put through had made it impossible to take another step. He did protect her. A part of her knew that, even if she didn’t want to admit it to herself. But it was easy to use that against him now. It was easy to twist all of that, to twist things that had happened between them and make him second guess that she had ever wanted him at all. Nothing that she had said was technically false, and he knew that. That was why she had thought that it would work.

She knew that it wasn’t true and she thought that he did too, deep down. If she hadn’t wanted to be with him that night, she had known that she could have pulled away, that she could have told him off, and he would have listened. She had not been afraid of him going farther than she wanted, and she hadn’t been afraid that she couldn’t stop him if she wanted to stop. She just hadn’t wanted to. Any other time, he would know that. But this time, as broken down as he was, Sasha thought that he was likely to believe the worst. He was going to think that it was true. She had nearly been certain of that and his reaction was the proof that she needed--he did. Devin had clearly believed her; it had put thoughts of doubt in his mind. It would make him think back to what had happened, and how she had never said she wanted him. That would be enough to put him in quite the spiral, which was what the Death Eater had asked for. He had wanted her to keep going, and that was exactly what she had done.

The torture curse had been next. Since not listening to him wasn’t even a possibility in her mind, she didn’t see anything wrong with going over to him, in letting him put the wand in her hand. It was the first time that she’d held a real wand in months… and the feeling of real magic was something that she had nearly forgotten. The flash of red struck Devin, and the screaming started again. It had been his screaming that had brought her out here to begin with, but now they were the result of the curse that she had been made to cast. Seconds ticked on. She wasn’t keeping track of how long it had been, she just knew that he kept on screaming… she knew that it hurt. The curse had been on her not too long ago but not for this long. Feeling bad about that wasn’t on her mind… and then they ended the spell. Quiet fell over the street. The only sounds were Devin’s sobs, and then the Death Eater touched her temple again.

Immediately, everything came back into focus. Everything came back to her--the pain was back, the fear was back, and what she had just done crashed into her like a ton of bricks. Devin was still shaking, and sobbing, and she… she had done that. It was her. The flash of red light, the torture curse--her words before then. Merlin. She was shaking now, as everything came back. “Devin--” She gasped out. She dropped to her knees again, hardly even feeling the impact of her knees against the ground. “I-I didn’t… It wasn’t--” It was difficult to even configure a sentence to properly explain what she was feeling, when nothing that she could say would possibly make any of it better.

She had said so much, done so much. Had he heard him cast the Imperius Curse? Did he know that it hadn’t been her choice? Or did he think that this had all been her? She moved closer to him, but she didn’t even know if she should touch him. “It wasn’t me, Devin, please… believe me. Please believe me…” Her voice was more unsteady than she wanted it to be, but she couldn’t help it. She could hardly stop shaking, so controlling her voice was just not even a possibility; it was a wonder that she hadn’t started crying, and that was not something that happened often.

Rabastan was losing grip on reality…and it was fading fast. The magic he had expended tonight was astronomical. How many people had he tortured and killed before encountering this pair? A good dozen for sure…It had been a training exercise. He had many spells and techniques to demonstrate. He had not been able to indulge Bellatrix then. He tried to keep himself present when he was working. His bouts of catatonia were rarer now, but one was coming on.

Bellatrix was growing stronger and louder as he grew weaker and more tired. If he had an elixir, he might avoid losing himself to her grip, but that was a double-edged sword. He would maintain control of himself, but he would also not get to be with her—to hear and feel her to the degree that he was able to experience her company when he completely detached from the world around him. He could still see when he went into those states. He rarely cared to look at the world, but his body would grow stiff, completely frozen as he waltzed about the cage of his mind, the palace where Bellatrix lived now—his Trix: the witch that never was and would never be.

The Lestrange wanted to enjoy the damage he had wrought on the pair of mudbloods. He was trying to focus on it—to see how the girl would crumb and break at the revelation of what she had done. Rabastan did not even consider the possibility that the bloke would forgive her…though with his devotion to Bellatrix, one would expect he would just assume that the guy would overlook anything and everything. But Rabastan was not one to believe that others could be anything like him. He had not seen a man love a woman—not really. He did not understand the notion. He had never been loved. The closest he had to anything of the sort was whatever existed between himself and his brother. Loyalty was there, certainly, but what beyond that?

He did not think on this. Rabastan never did. He found his comforts in vials and bottles. He soothed his loneliness with lovers and whores. This was his reality. This is what he had this world. This was what drove him out into the world to wreak havoc and break others. He had been forged into this monster by pain, loss, and longing. 

Devin drew in shaky, desperate breaths. Even that seemed to hurt. Everything hurt. His entire body protested any motion. It felt as if it protested life itself. Your body is supposed to fight to keep you alive, but Devin was pretty sure that he was really trying to get to the end as quickly as possible. No part of him wanted to go on any further—he could not handle another flash of red magic. He whispered out the word please over and over again. But no sound came out. His voice had been ravaged by the screaming. He was not completely sure what he was even begging for. He wanted Sasha to go free. He wanted his pain to end. And a terrifying amount of him wanted that end to come by his drawing his final breath. The boy had never wanted to die.

Despite all the terrible and horrible things he had survived in his childhood—unspeakable transgressions and painful tragedies—he had never wanted to die. Devin had always wanted to live. He had fought to live. But right now…he was ready to just give up. He was so tired. The emotional weight of the torture and the terrible things Sasha had told him—that he learned about himself—it was all too much. The boy had not cried in twelve years, but here he was sobbing on the ground. He was so pathetic. In hindsight, he would be mortified…but that would come after he had repressed the worst parts of this experience. Right now—when he could not pretend that any of it hadn’t happen, when all of it was so very real to him, it was too much. No one could have kept it together in this situation, under this much duress. There was nothing wrong with him crying, but he would hate that he had---if he got out of this night alive, that was.

He felt so stupid and disgusting. He was an idiot for having come outside…and how blind had he been to not realize that he had taken advantage of Sasha…How could he have done that? He was not that man. He had seen what that sort of man looked like. He had seen the abusers that his mother brought into their shithole flat. He had seen the things his father had done to her. Devin had sworn to never be that way. When he had been a little boy, he had not known what a disgusting, terrible person his mother was…she was just his mother---and he had wanted to protect her. He had tried…and the beatings he gotten for it, Merlin the things he had been forced to witness, it was so far beyond disgusting. Bile rose up in his throat and he gagged again. How had he become this?

Sasha had no idea where Devin came from. She had no idea the horrors he had endured as a child—or how deeply that accusation would cut him. There was nothing she could have said that would have hurt him worse or made him hate himself more. He already felt responsible for his sister dying—had he not left her, had he not gone to Hogwarts, he would have been there to care for her…so even though the weight of that was heavy on him, it was an old familiar weight. The things that Sasha had said. That was the one thing that he had sworn he would never do. He would never take from a woman like that. He would never hurt someone in such an unforgivable way. And now, he knew that he had—and that he had done that to someone he genuinely cared about.

He was a monster.

He heard his name come from her lips again. But it sounded different. There was so much emotion—so much pain held in the gentle cry. It was enough to make him turn and look at her. Devin had no idea how he found the strength or the ability, but he did it. His body shifted, the pain of the motion earning a groan from him. He was terrified to look at her, but he could not help himself. She had said his name and the only thing there was to do was to look. It was as powerful as any siren’s call. His eyes widened as the witch dropped down to the ground. Immediately, Devin wished he could have cushioned her fall. But there was nothing he could have done. He could barely move—there was no darting over and catching the girl. She didn’t even seem to register her knees hitting the ground. He tried his best to understand what Sasha was telling him, but her words were coming in shattered fragments.

She moved closer and he wanted to reach out to her. But he couldn’t. He wouldn’t. Not if he was really guilty of what she had said. Every part of him believed it then. But just the same, every part of him ached to hold her. He felt sure that some pain would eased away if he could take her into his arms, but that was selfish. He had no right to do that. Another wave of nausea hit him and he felt so dizzy. His body had sustained so much dark magic, it was physically sickening. The whole world felt as if it was spinning.

Devin tried his very hardest to focus on Sasha. It broke his heart into a million pieces to see her now—to think he had hurt her that way. She shook now—and even in the wake of his agony, he longed to be able to comfort her. His brain was struggling to process what that she was saying to him. It wasn’t her? That was what she said—and now, now she was practically begging that he would believe her. It took a moment, but the light bulb went on—understanding flashed in his eyes. There were three Unforgivable curses. They had learned about them all at Hogwarts. One had been used on him, but surely, what she was saying was that another had been used on her. The Imperius---Merlin, it hadn’t been her.

”Sash-“ he gasped, her name a lungful prayer from his tongue. He blinked his eyes furiously, doing his best to suppress any more tears. Devin wiped at his face, smearing tears and dust over his cheeks, mingling the mess with the blood that still seeped from his nose. He was battered and bloodied, but there was a change in him—a change from the utter despair he had been drowning in a moment before. ”Oh, Sash---so, so, I didn’t?” He rasped out the question, not even able to finish the statement. He could not even bring himself to say the word rape. Feebly he stretched out an arm towards the girl, trying to move a bit closer to her. If they were going to die now, he didn’t want Sasha to have to leave this world alone.

There was so much relief—relief that he had not done that unspeakable, unforgivable thing---relief that Sasha had not chosen to curse him, to lash out at him—But there was still so much danger. He did not think his mind could survive much longer under the torture curse, but he would do whatever he could to keep the Death Eater’s magic pointed at him. It was better for him to lose everything than for Sasha to have to undergo such pain. He wasn’t important anyway. The longer he was able to breathe and the more his logic was able to put his mind back in order, the one thing he couldn’t ignore was that Sasha was here. She had come outside. She had gotten herself into this mess, because of him. She had yelled at Death Eater, because of him.

He mattered to someone.

Her mind had been so clear under the Imperius Curse. She had not doubted what she’d been saying, not even for a moment. The Death Eater had told her to do the worst that she could to him. So she wasn’t in a position to think about the why. She wasn’t strong enough to fight back against a curse like that one. Not strong enough to tell herself that she didn’t want to say those things to Devin. She was never nice to him. That just wasn’t the type of person that she was. There was hardly a nice word that she had to say about anyone. It was so much more amusing to be mean, or at least passive aggressive. The former had always been fun at school, when she could insult someone and they didn’t even realize that they were being insulted. But her mind hadn’t gone to the why. She hadn’t been able to stop herself and ask why she would want to hurt Devin like that.

Until the curse had been lifted and everything had come back to her. Then it had all made sense, and she didn’t know what to do. She didn’t know if Devin would even believe that it hadn’t been her, or if he thought that she was capable of saying something like that without any coercion necessary. Maybe he thought that she would really take the opportunity to curse him with a Death Eater’s wand, without thinking twice against it. It wouldn’t be his fault if he thought that. She wasn’t even sure that she could blame him for that. She was not a nice person. He knew that. If that was what he had thought of her, that she could do something like this on her own… that was her fault.

But she wouldn’t have done it. If he hadn’t told her to, if he hadn’t cast that curse, she didn’t think she would have done it. He could have threatened her, he could have tortured her, and she didn’t think that she could do that to him. Sasha didn’t want to admit that she cared about him, for a long time she hadn’t wanted to admit that. But it had been getting complicated these past couple of weeks--months, really. It had been before they had shagged, even if she had been better at denying it before they’d crossed that line. She had been better at saying that he didn’t matter and meaning it when she was just sleeping next to him every night. Even now, she had been doing whatever she could to try to convince herself that she didn’t have feelings like those. She didn’t want to care about him at all.

Sasha thought that if she’d fought it enough, maybe it would go away. Maybe she would stop caring altogether, but then she had heard him screaming and she had come outside without even hesitating. There was really no way of denying that she had done that. She wasn’t a hero. She didn’t jump in front of curses for people, she didn’t defend people--there could be a child being cursed in front of her, and she didn’t think she would do a thing to stop it. Better them than her. Why would she step in to protect someone that didn’t matter to her? There were people that did that. People that jumped to the defense of strangers, that took the torture instead. She was not that person. So she couldn’t write off coming outside as being the hero. It wasn’t anything about that.

Honestly, she thought that it had been a little bit selfish. She didn’t want to admit it but she couldn’t lose Devin. She couldn’t. She survived here because of Mari, and because of him. A part of her knew that even when she hadn’t wanted to admit it. She didn’t want him to get hurt, and she couldn’t let him die. That had been the only thought on her mind. It wasn’t as if she had preferred that she took the torture instead--she had no tolerance for pain. Sasha didn’t quite know what her plan had been at all, but she had done it anyway. That meant that he mattered as much as she didn’t want to admit it, and she didn’t want him to think that she could do something like this. He was hurt because of her, and now they were likely both going to die. Sasha wasn’t sure if it could end any other way. The Death Eater could just let them go, deciding that he’d done enough damage, but she wasn’t sure that was all that likely.

She had to do what she could to explain, but she could barely find the words. How could she, after everything that had just happened? Now that the spell had lifted, all of the pain was back and that made it harder. Sasha knew that her physical suffering had been nothing compared to Devin’s--she had been held under the torture curse for only a handful of seconds, and apart from that he’d only hit her. That was all. But that was still pain that she wasn’t used to--her head was throbbing, she couldn’t stop shaking. Words were failing her. She didn’t even know how to tell him that it hadn’t been her. She was very nearly crying and that was a rare occurrence, unless she was faking tears to get her way. “Of course you didn’t…” Sasha hated that he could even believe that, but her thoughts under the curse were still there for her. In this state, he was likely to believe the worst… and that was exactly what had happened.

When he tried to move closer to her, she shifted instead. She didn’t think he was likely to get anywhere at all but she could move closer to him. That was not a difficult feat. Sasha knew that the Death Eater was still here, that he was still likely watching and at any moment now maybe he would actually kill them. She didn’t know. There was very little that she could do about it either way. For a minute, she’d had a real wand in her hand but that was gone now. She didn’t have the strength to do anything else. If he was going to kill them, then he was going to kill them. There was nothing that she could do to stop it--nothing that Devin could do either. No one was going to come out and save them--just as she wasn’t a hero, she couldn’t fault others for not being one either. Why would they be? It was far easier to take care of themselves and not worry about what was happening to other people. Far safer in her opinion, until now at least.

Content Warning: DE Badness


The way the animals crawled towards one another enraged him. He had forced the girl to use the Torture Curse against the boy. He had coerced her to speak the cruelest words she could have fall from her tongue. How could such mistreatment be so readily forgiven? The sight before him was confusing to Rabastan. He saw weakness—of course—the tears that had streaked the boy’s face spoke to an inability to withstand the pain that Rabastan had put the kid through. But somehow, he could not ignore that there was a strength present, too. His mind would not reconcile it. It couldn’t. He was to feel only hate and resentment towards the magical thieves before him. That had been the way for his entire life.

He had felt no compassion for the Longbottoms all those years ago. He felt no compassion for these mongrels in front of him now. It wasn’t compassion. It wasn’t pity. It was confusion and perhaps even the slightest bit of jealousy. The pair were surely lovers—the girl had said as much earlier when Rabastan had urged her to hurt the boy further. He wanted to destroy that. He wanted to break it. He wanted to ruin what the bloke felt---because he, himself, had surely been ruined by his obsession with Bellatrix. Because of her, Rabastan understood the devotion that a man could have to a woman. He carried so much devotion to his brother’s first wife. She had been everything he could have ever wanted—and she was gone. Even if she wasn’t dead, she hadn’t ever loved him in the same way.

This mongrel did not deserve what Rabastan had not been able to have. That he would likely never have—even if Athena was to become his wife, would there ever be love as it is written in the fairy tale stories between them? He could not fathom such a thing at their age. They were not old by wizarding standards, but they were aged and made wiser by years lived and trials survived. They were not the type that love stories were written about. Those sorts of tales always featured the young, because only the young could love with such naïve hope and innocence.

Rabastan had set out to only punish the boy for his rule breaking—to make an example of him, but when the girl had charged forward, his intent had changed. The Lestrange had made efforts to break that innocence, to destroy any affection and trust between the pair. But he got ahead of himself. He lifted the Imperius to revel in the pain that the girl would feel knowing what she had done, but now she could confess that it had not been her. The boy was clearly eager to accept that as true. Such was a much preferable truth to his victims, it should have come as no surprise how readily it would be proclaimed and accepted.

The wizard was disappointed by his folly—and tired. He had expended a great deal of magical energy earlier in the evening and now here with these two. And for what? Sure, there would be bodies waiting on him back at the mausoleum, but any enjoyment from those kills had long dissipated. The joy he had wanted to revel in now was being stolen away from him by this pair of mudbloods—these magic thieves were stealing his joy! Bloody bastards, the both of them—His vision flashed red and even as Bellatrix whispered in his ear, calling to him, drawing him to her—Rabastan ignored her, lashing out wildly, screaming about how the pair was nothing and did not deserve the magic they had stolen. 

His magic was uncoordinated, but the attacks were focused on the pair of mudbloods—a flurry of stinging hexes flashed and exploded against their skin. He just wanted them to hurt. He did not want to see them reconcile. He did not want them to have any respite from his wrath. He would not give them that. He would not allow any sweet affections. He spat out dark incantation after dark incantation—not caring that he was teetering on the edge of exhaustion. The spells sliced at Sasha’s skin, doing the same to Devin’s—the wounds were akin to paper cuts---long, thin, barely bleeding—made to cause lingering pain, but not to take a life. Perhaps if Rabastan had been more focused or not so overexerted more damage would have been inflicted, but as many curses as landed on the couple splintered and fizzled against the ground all around them.