"Humiliation"

It wasn't until later, when the clock on her mantle was ticking towards midnight, did a knock on her bedroom door rouse Circi from her writing stupor.

Calling through the door, she waited to hear a familiar voice, keeping her own loud in case the caller couldn't be trusted. For a while she received no call and turned back to her room. A small scream escaped her mouth as she found Lucius perched on the end of her bed, the candle by her bed casting shadows over his face with every breeze from the open window.

"I don't want to talk to you," she told him, marching over to the bed and piling together her notes and stuffing them into one book. When he didn't respond she did a double take.

He was reading her letter. She had been drafting a plea for help to Serenity, hoping that she could perhaps ask a favour of one of the elves. Not that she had much to offer them in return- what good was a thirteen-year-old witch against fifteen experienced, war-hardened, death eaters? But, now, it seemed she had been caught. Lucius read her words over and over again, she could see his eyes tracing every letter, trailing every line, before returning to the beginning.

Perhaps it was the candle light but... was he crying?

The sight was far more jarring than anything Circi had seen before. She was at a loss, unsure on how to approach the man who had more often than not been stoic and strict. Should she even try?

"I never wanted this to happen," he said quietly, placing the letter back onto the bed and staring at the space where it had once been, "neither of you were supposed to be involved."

Sitting at the opposite end of the bed, she pressed her hands together and squashed them between her knees as she listened. He sighed a lot now, sniffling as though he had a cold and twisting every now and then to look back at the letter and sometimes at Circi. She was still certain of herself, though, she did not- could not- talk to him right now else she would say something she'd regret.

He put his hand on the bed, leaning between them to see her properly and sighed again, "there will be a meeting tomorrow night," he began, watching her intently, "stay in your room and do not answer the door. Draco's task was my punishment and I fear what the Dark Lord may do to you when he sees you beside me."

"I will never be at your side." Her eyes glimmered in the candle light, hatred and hurt piled up in those hazel eyes and for a moment her long face shrunk and her lip trembled instead of sneering. He only saw Serenity. Serenity when she learned about Narcissa. Serenity in the trial cage. Serenity watching him leave her cell with their baby in his arms. And now that baby was looking at him like a rotten carcass abandoned on her doorstep and his heart broke all over again.

"I am so-"

"Out!" Her voice was sharp, just like her chin. She was no longer the soft-faced Serenity, who he had longed to speak to most nights in Azkaban, she was his daughter: half-Malfoy, half-Rier, all Circi. And he knew his daughter well enough to leave her alone.

As he disapparated from the room, Circi scooted back on the bed and curled up against the headboard. She wiped her tears away and looked over at the letter- or where it should have been- just to see that he had taken her mother from her yet again. At that, she allowed the tears.

*

The next evening, she heard screaming downstairs and pushed the armchair in the corner of the room against the dresser to provide an extra barricade. While she despised her father, she trusted his concern for her. It was true that Draco's indoctrination was his punishment.

Every noise she heard, every voice that sounded far too close set her teeth on edge and her heart was racing all day. The Dark Lord didn't hesitate to use Draco to get to Lucius- it would not be a reach to threaten his daughter and the one reminder of a life he often fantasised about. Sometimes Circi wished she was ignorant.

She spent the entire afternoon sitting on her bed, chewing her nails.

She had tried to read but she couldn't focus. Her writing had abandoned her and she'd tossed the notebook across the room in anger.

And, it was when she had calmed enough to begin picking up the stray papers to rearrange them back into the book did the knock come at the door. The sun had set, the moon was high and her candle was beginning to burn low. Her room looked nearly empty with most of the furniture pushed against the door.

The door tried to open, shifting an inch and smacking into the dresser. She stepped away as wood thudded on wood.

"Little Malfoy!" the voice on the other side of the door taunted. They laughed, hearing her scuffling about the room, but there was nowhere to go. The door shut and Circi strained to hear what was happening outside. She was safe from apparitions, only the master of the manor could do so and that burden lay on Lucius' shoulders, but she feared what other magic they would try. A muffled cry came from behind the door, quick and sharp, and she registered it as a spell too late.

An explosion blew the door off its hinges, shattering the wood to pieces as the dresser and armchair flew away from the doorway. Fragments of wood flew about the room, some piercing Circi and she had no time to figure out what was happening as her attacker stupefied her.

*

When she woke, she was bound at her wrists behind her back and she could see nothing but blackness. Somewhere around her she could hear the whimpering of a woman in agony but as she turned her head the material of the blindfold shifted and she saw only the flash of a candle somewhere and a dark figure crossing by it.

Footsteps echoed into the room and she could hear many more people now growing restless and she wondered how many people were present. How many knew she was here?

The woman was nearby, she could sense as much, but the voice sounded as though it was above her rather than at her level- where she imagined the death eaters kept their hostages. And, if the woman was a hostage, what did that make her?

"Severus," the calculated voice of Lord Voldemort said, his voice carried across the room. It was her home, Circi had to remind herself as she began to figure out where she was. "I was beginning to worry you'd lost your way. Come, we've saved you a seat."

So, Snape was back. He disappeared often and had not been seen since the night the ex-convicts took refuge in the manor. She shifted and felt the smooth ridges of the wood panels on the ground, Snape took his seat, his footsteps becoming muffled as he stepped onto carpet. As the death eaters conferred in the room ahead of her, she strained her senses to figure out where she was.

A fire sputtered as a log fell and she shook her head to try and remove the blindfold. The dining room. One of them, at least. There were too many voices, all spread out, there was nowhere else she could be. But, as she struggled to remove the blindfold and tugged at her binds she sensed a movement by her. It was small, a tingling on her senses, but she froze and listened to the soft hissing of a snake. Its tail brushed against her hip and she did her best not to shrink away too quickly.

Her heart was pounding in her ears and, for a moment, she let fear take over. She whimpered slightly, bringing her knees up to her chest, but as she moved a wand pressed up to her throat.

It was a small action. Threatening enough to send the message loud and clear.

"I want to kill the boy," Bellatrix offered in a smooth voice, one she hadn't heard from the woman before. Circi couldn't listen to this, she didn't want to be held captive in her own home like some sort of leverage. But that was it, she realised, Lucius had been clear that she and Draco were being used to punish him and what better was to do so than to... what? Kill her in front of everyone? Torture her?

The thought was jarring, it was nothing short of terrifying. As she squirmed and tried to prepare herself in case she had to run, the wand jabbed her in the throat again and she cried out at the sudden pain.

"Wormtail!" Voldemort yelled across the room and Circi felt the wand judder as its handler jumped at the sudden noise. The wand left her throat as they moved away. "Have I not spoken to you about keeping our guest quiet?" Undoubtedly he meant her and she shut up immediately, even as a second person rushed over to them. The new person spoke in a hushed voice to her guard, his voice quivering while the guard remained stoic with an angry voice. She shrunk away from them and focused on the conversation at the table. "As inspiring as I find your bloodlust, Bellatrix, I must be the one to kill Harry Potter." Voldemort continued to explain how he could not do so with his wand, which was a twin to Harry Potter's. "If I am to kill him," he concluded, "I must do so with another's wand."

It was silent. Even the two men who had been standing over her moments before had quietened. There were quiet footsteps as someone paced on the rug.

"Come," Voldemort continued, "surely one of you would like the honour?" Another silence. "What about you, Lucius?"

She waited with baited breath, anticipating his response. What she had not expected was Lucius's meagre "my Lord?" which had bordered on a whimper.

Rightfully, something which she hated to agree upon, Voldemort mocked his tone. "My Lord? I require your wand." The room was quiet but for the snake's content hissing and the crackling of the fire. Clearly, her father had taken too long to do as he was commanded, for Voldemort spoke up again, his voice as steady as ever. "Perhaps you need some persuading."

As he said that, Circi felt hands wrapping around her arms and she was dragged to her feet. She made a futile attempt at wriggling out of their grasp, unceasing until the wand pressed into her throat once again and the blindfold was ripped away.

She blinked, looking around the room for a familiar face as her hair fell into her face. First, she saw Snape, he looked away the minute he met her eyes and feigned indifference as if she could not read her Professor and Head of House. Then, she spotted Draco who was much less talented at hiding his emotions, the fear in his eyes struck a new type of fear into her. It was gut-wrenching and she felt like her heart was being squeezed. Her nose quivered as though she could cry but her eyes were dry.

And then she saw Him. Lord Voldemort himself, his skin was ashen and grey, two long slits where he should be. This was the half-formed, reborn version of the Dark Lord and all she saw when she looked at his face was a reminder that Harry had beat him once before. But, also a reminder that she might not be alive to see that happen again. He was standing behind Lucius' chair, hand outstretched and watching the man with some deranged form of hunger in his eyes that terrified Circi.

Lucius looked at her, he was tired and scared. He held the same fear as Draco- as she now did. And, when the man behind her jabbed the wand further into her neck so that she had to wince at the pain and hissed the beginning of a curse she had narrowly avoided once before, Lucius unlatched the handle of his cane.

Attached to the end of the silver cane head was his wand, which he placed into Voldemort's hand with trembling hands.

"Do I detect elm?" Voldemort questioned. Lucius swallowed and flicked his eyes between the wand and Circi.

"Yes, my Lord." He flinched when Voldemort snapped the wand from its handle.

"And the core?"

"Drago- dragon heartstring, my Lord."

"Hmm, dragon heartstring..." He sneered for a moment before tossing the cane head onto the table. Lucius flinched away as it landed but Circi was now looking over her head as Voldemort gestured his wand at the woman floating just above them.

She looked familiar, like a face you see in the street but they're already gone before you fully recognise them. The woman drifted down the table, whimpering as the dark lord's magic carried her closer to him. As she passed by Circi could see lacerations carelessly stitched together along her cheekbones and across her chin and couldn't help but wonder if this was her fate she was witnessing.

There was no doubt, now that Voldemort himself had made himself and his power known to her, that they would try to recruit her into their ranks. As a child spy like Draco perhaps. And, sure, it would protect her when- if she returned to Hogwarts. But what then? What would Mica think-

"... Charity Burbage."

Burbage. Professor Burbage.

Panic settled in as she now watched the Muggle Studies Professor. Of course. Of course their first target at Hogwarts would be her. Everything she believed was in direct contrast with them. They called her blood traitor. They sneered at her. And she simply cried. Whimpering as her head hung back, heavy and unsupported by the spell that bound her to the air.

"Severus, please," she begged. Circi couldn't see the woman's face but she could see Snape, who looked conflicted. He tried to keep watching her but every now and then he looked elsewhere for a moment.

"Nagini," Voldemort said as he took a seat at the head of the table, two seats away from Snape. Circi narrowed her eyes on Snape for a moment, jerking away as the snake brushed by her foot. She watched it slither up onto the table ahead of its master. "Dinner."

The snake snapped at Charity.

Circi flinched as the elevated body jerked under the attack. With each bite the snake took, Circi could see the woman at the Professor's table in the Great Hall, sitting between Professors Snape and Rier. They had always seemed to be good friends. And, when Voldemort dismissed everyone, Circi was abandoned where she stood. She watched Snape look down at the table and discreetly wipe at his eyes before leaving.

But, when there was no one to observe, she looked at the body and the retreating snake. She had never taken Muggle Studies, never knew the woman she was grieving, but she finally let herself cry. And as she sank to her knees, Draco returned to the room and dropped down beside her. He took her into his arms and allowed her to cry for all of them