The Love of a Sister

Graham is sitting in an unused room in the deep, dark depths of the Slytherin dungeons. If he bothered to think about it, he might find it very ironic that he's actually sitting underneath the Hufflepuff Common Rooms.

He doesn't know what to do. He only knows that this is wrong, no matter what Zacharias Smith says. Graham sits down gingerly, trying to ignore the soreness of his legs- between his legs- and the bruises that cross lines with the cuts and scars that cover his knees, elbows, torso- almost everything.

This has nothing to do with homosexuality [because Graham's always been pretty accepting, no matter what his mother and father think] or sex in general.

Graham Pritchard has been soiled. He's been used, dirtied, turned into something between Threstral shit and the sticky substance that you discover on the bottom of your shoes after it's been stuck there for a good month.

He is filthy.

If there is a God, Graham wonders why He hasn't sent him a guardian angel yet.

No one else knows, Graham thinks, but Hogwarts is no safe haven. It's the Devil's playground, and he's having quite a bit of fun here.

He tries desperately not to think about what happened, on the second floor. What happened earlier today, what happens there almost every day.

Graham prays for escape, and hopes that God will send him an angel soon, because he doesn't think he can live through one more night of touching, and pulling, and thrusting and being turned into a play-toy.

He feels so dirty, so damn dirty, and he wraps his robes, stained with blood and other things, tightly around his waist. He touched him... he touched him there, and he doesn't know what to do, and the Devil will come and steal his eyes for it, because he reacted. He reacted, and he has been shamed, and now he is light-forsaken, doomed to return back to that room and let the demon touch him, hurt him, bleed him.

He's trying not to cry, but he's so lost, and he doesn't know what to do. His parents know, and they do nothing. His older brothers know. His aunts and uncles know. Everyone knows, he thinks, and yet they turn around and wrap blinds around their eyes so they don't have to see. So they don't feel uncomfortable about Zacharias' arrangement.

He has no family left, he decides. No one to trust, no one to care for him. The tears come, hated and unwanted, but they are cold. As cold as the stones that Smith shoves him against when he's taking him, ripping him apart- as cold as the floor that he lies on when Smith breaks him.

Never be warm again, never ever ever runs through his mind. Never be clean, never be pure, never be pristine, never be warm, never be loved, nope, nu-uh, never never NEVER DIRTY DIRTY DIRTY

Even his mind works against him. Zacharias has him trapped, caged, and Graham thinks he'll never escape.

He turns and runs for safety, runs away from the castle, away from a safe-haven that has degenerated into a sort of Hellish-paradox. Hogwarts is the safest place in all of the Kingdom, safe from Death Eaters and Dark Lords, but it's not safe enough for little Graham Pritchard to live in. Not while the Devil can walk freely amoung her inhabitants and brand them as his own.

He can only think of one place to run to, one place that even the Devil doesn't care to walk into. The Dark Woods. So he runs, and run, and trips and falls and skids but still, he runs. He runs right to the edge, and he finds it insanely hilarious that the only place where he can hide from the Devil is the darkest, scariest place at Hogwarts.

He wants to fight back, but he is no warrior, and he has no allies.

Graham Pritchard is well and truly broken. He knows his only option is to barter with Smith, but a part of him, something small and stubborn, shouts No I won't! and so he has no option but to take it.

He's so ashamed, and he's sure that he reeks of defilement and decay.

He tries to assure himself, but even the sky knows he's lying.

All he wants to do is escape from Hell.

He hears someone running. It's a girl. A tall, pretty girl he vaguely recognises, a Hufflepuff with the kindest eyes he's ever seen. She's running, running, running, and suddenly she stops. She comes up to him, corners him to the rock he's been hiding behind. She looks, and he realises that she's thinking.

She looks so forgiving. But she can forgive him for being so dirty? No matter. It's not like she knows.

She drops to her knees and takes his hands, and he shudders. What's she going to do? Oh, please God, don't make her like Zacharias.....

She looks at him, and her eyes, green and glowing, bore into his heart. I won't hurt you, and I know what happened.

No, please. Anything but this. He thought no one knew. He feels as if he will die of embarrassment and disgrace. If she knows, who else knows? Who else has she told?

DIRTY DIRTY DIRTY

He screams, and then he tells her that she's wrong. Maybe she'll go away. Maybe she'll remove her soft hands and mutter in embarrassment, and no one will know about this.

She holds on tighter. He shudders.

He lets out a gasp when she beings to talk again.

She's telling him.... she's telling him that this isn't his fault. That nothing that has happened to him, the pain, the shame- he didn't do anything to deserve it. That's he not dirty, that he's still good and clean and pure, and that it'll all be okay.

She's telling him that he hasn't fallen from Heaven's favour, and that the Devil doesn't own him.

And now she's promising not to tell anyone, that if he wants to keep it private, then she will, she will take it to her grave with a smile on her face, if only he will trust her.

Trust me, Graham she whispers, smiling softly. Trust me like I was your sister.

He's crying now, and she- Susan Bones, she says her name is- she holds him and lets him cry, and as his tears spill out and he tells what happened, he realises that his tears are warm again. She's promised to help him, that it's the only way life is going to get better. And it will, he knows, because he's got her now.

Hours pass, and Graham is sitting in the room of torture again, scared, feeling rather small.

Only know, if he looks a little to the left, he can see the moonlight reflect Susan's eyes as she watches him carefully.

He hopes this works. He has to stay strong, strong for her, because she's staying strong for him.

It's a curiously nice feeling to know that someone is by his side, even if she's a stranger. She feels like family to Graham.

Susan has a plan, and so he continues to wait. He's trying to not be afraid, but he's scared that Smith will come and Graham will turn and Susan will be gone, just gone and he will be alone again.

He waits. And waits.

And waits.

Susan doesn't leave.

So he waits.

He hears footsteps. He tenses. He hears Susan's skirt scrape against the floor as she gets ready, and Graham's heart bursts. She's getting ready. Ready to save him.

The Devil walks in, grinning and grabbing and ready to play with Graham. Graham hears more footsteps, faintly. It's McGonagall.

Zacharias grabs Graham, and Graham cries out softly, fear suddenly riding him. The Dark One's own hand, burning hot, touching his forehead.

DIRTY DIRTY DIRTY

There's a shriek, and a crash, and Susan is on top of Smith, and she's punching him. Never ever ever the voice whispers. Never ever ever going to get hurt again, Graham, you've got me now.

He's safe. Graham backs away on hands and knees as Susan kicks Zacharias again and again and promises him that you'll never burn Graham again, you FUCKING bastard.

McGonagall sweeps him, and Susan holds out her hand. Tell her, Graham, what you told me. It's going to be okay, just like I promised. He does, and he lets out over a year of anguish, embarrassment, of pain and the fact that his family knew but didn't do anything because they owed the Smith family. He tells McGonagall, and holds on to Susan, because she's the only person who makes him feel safe.

She holds him just as tightly.

McGonagall binds Smith with a look that promises many, many years of pain if she gets her way. She leads Zacharias out, levitating his bound body, and lets his head smash into rocks. Graham follows, clutching Susan, who promises him that she'll never leave him, and it's going to be alright. We'll make this better. Together.

He smiles, and lets warmth flood back into his body, lets the heat slowly pick apart the dirtiness and pain so he can really be clean again.

As they stumble along, holding hands, he knows this is going to be a long, hard journey. He knows things will get tough, and they'll both get frustrated.

But, you know, it's going to be okay.

Graham had prayed for God to send him a guardian angel, someone to take him away from his pain, his humiliation- to take it all away.

But God sent him something much, much better.

God sent Graham a sister.

She'll watch over him, and care for him, and he'll watch over her, and make sure she stays safe and happy.

After all, isn't that brothers and sisters always do?