Unbreakable - Fred Weasley

It's okay

She'd been missing for fifteen days and it was the end of the term, summer holidays, but Tim didn't feel like celebrating at all. He boarded the train and moved slowly between train cars, stopping only when he saw Cho Chang and Marietta Edgecomb looking dreary. No one was given any semblance of a real answer or explanation, all they were told was that she was last seen in the department of Mysteries. Harry had duelled Voldemort, Sirius Black was dead. But Olivia Wood had vanished.
It had been months since they'd spoken, but he loved her still, perhaps even more than he had before. He stepped off the train, Teddy and Alice trailing behind—he hadn't spoken the entire ride, and they grew more concerned for their friend. Before they could say goodbye, he'd reached his mother and apparated away.
"Do you reckon she'll turn up?" Alice asked, genuine care in her voice. Teddy shrugged,
"I hope so. She was always nice, and Tim loves her."
"I know." Alice sighed, "stupid boy."
—
"WHAT DO YOU MEAN SHE JUST RAN AWAY!?" Fred boomed, his voice breaking nearly every ear drum within close proximity.
"Fred, mate, c'mon." George urged his twin,
"I mean what we told you, what we've BEEN telling you! She ran away, trying to distract the deatheaters from us, she took an orb—I've told you a hundred times!!" Ginny shouted,
"THEN TELL ME A HUNDRED MORE, BECAUSE I CAN'T QUITE SEEM TO UNDERSTAND WHAT SHE WAS DOING THERE IN THE FIRST PLACE!" Fred shouted,
"FRED, CALM DOWN!" Molly yelled at her son, "shouting won't help anything!"
A dark look crossed his face, and his yelling stopped short, only to make room for a deeply disturbing irateness that no one had ever heard come out of his mouth,
"They lost Olivia, and I simply want to know if she's alive or not. I'm terribly sorry for troubling you all, with the life, of the girl I love."
He was gone before anyone could register what he'd even said, apparated away from the Burrow and away from them all.
"I don't agree with all the shouting, but he is right y'know? Imagine if Ginny had disappeared, or Harry." George said, defending his brother. "He doesn't know what happened to her. Sirius is dead. What if Olivia's gone too?"
And in a second, George was gone as well.
Ginny looked at her mother, Hermione had been standing just outside of the room, and they all knew he was right. There was a lot that went on that night, but no one knew where Olivia was. She had helped them to safety, risking her own life, and they knew they were still alive due to her sacrifice.
———
"Some things have changed." Tim's mother, Clarice, told him before stepping into the house.
"What things?" Tim asked, not really caring, just wanting to lay in his bed.
"We have to go to Malfoy Manor tonight, and it'll be explained." Tim looked at his mother curiously after she finished speaking. Furrowing his brow, she noticed how upset she looked,
"And dad?" He asked,
"Walden," she said sternly, "is in Azkaban."
Tim stopped before reaching the door, "he's what?"
"Get ready, we'll leave shortly. He'll be angry if we're late." Clarice said quickly, worry still heavy in her words. She walked into the house before Tim could get another word out, or ask who.
———
"Fred? Freddie?" George called, having apparated to their apartment, "are you here, mate?"
He didn't have to search for very long, Fred was sitting on the couch with his elbows on his knees and his face buried in his hands.
"You've got to cut them a bit of a break, mate. They went through a lot t—" George started, but stopped immediately when Fred turned to him with tears in his eyes.
"Is she dead? It's been two weeks, and we've heard nothing. No one's looking for her but me, and I haven't—I can't—I—is she gone?" Fred stuttered, George sat down beside his brother and looked him squarely in his eyes.
"I don't know. I don't think so, I think we'd be able to feel it if she was gone. But, I'm sorry Freddie, I don't know."
———
Tim wasn't prepared to see the Dark Lord, up close and personal, like he was. Nor was he anticipating seeing a room full of deatheaters—the one's who hadn't been rounded up and sent to Azkaban. A sudden longing to be a Hufflepuff overcame him, Hufflepuffs—he thought—never had to deal with this kind of thing. Bellatrix Lestrange and Professor Snape sat closest to Voldemort, and Tim let his mother usher him to a seat further down the table. He kept his gaze down, afraid to draw attention to himself, but noticed Draco and Narcissa sitting across from him. Draco looked ill, pale and peaky. He was only vaguely surprised to see Professor Snape there, and felt he understood more about the dreary professor now, seeing him at Voldemort's right hand.
"Nice of you to join us, Clarice. This is your son? Timothy?" The Dark Lord hissed. Tim sat up in his seat and looked down towards the head of the table where the snakelike figure sat.
"Yes." Clarice answered.
"Dear boy, you look unwell. I won't hurt you, I need you to take the place of your father." Voldemort said, a feigning kindness in his voice. Tim gulped, and looked up,
"I'm here to serve you, my Lord." He replied, understanding that it would be his mother who paid the price of any disobedience. He met his eyes, dark slits, like a snake. Tim kept his nerve, and kept his gaze.
"I always knew MacNair would raise a proper son, so unlike the softness of Draco." Voldemort mocked, Tim stayed still, compliantly strong. He sat with his head starkly straight, jaw set, and shoulders back. Keeping his breathing steady, he hoped he would suffice enough for his mother to come to no harm.
"Draco, would you? Bring the prisoner." Voldemort commanded, Tim nearly missed the warning glance Draco sent him, and thought of it as a weakness in the Malfoy boy, until he heard a very familiar voice—shaky and less strong than he was used to—saying "no, no, please, Draco, no"
Tim's breath caught in his throat when he saw her, Ravenclaw robes still on her, broken and battered. Her hair was matted to her head and face, you couldn't tell she was brunette—the blood coating making her hair three shades darker than it was. One of her pupils was blown, and the blood vessels in the eye had popped. There was a large gash down her face, through the eye, Tim was sure it was a werewolf scar. She had a swollen lip, cuts all over her face, and he didn't think he'd ever seen anyone quite so bruised in his life. She almost looked relieved when she saw him, but winced when Draco pulled her closer towards the end of the table.
"You know her?" Voldemort asked suddenly, Tim whipped his head around and shook it slightly,
"Barely." He replied, hoping his voice wouldn't give away the truth of the matter.
"She looked happy to see you." Voldemort jested,
"She must've thought I'd help her." Tim said, highly aware of his breaths.
"It'll be most fun if you do it then." Voldemort smiled wickedly,
"Do what?" Tim asked, "my Lord,"
Tim mustered every ounce of courage in his bones, every pound of neutrality he could manage during what happened next.
"Draco, you show him." Voldemort demanded, Draco kept a poker face and nodded.
"Crucio,"
Olivia screamed, writhing in pain, her body reacted in an aggressively broken way. It was only a few seconds, but Tim felt as if hours had passed. Draco left her there, a heap of robes on the marble floor, and Tim didn't think he'd ever seen someone look quite so mangled.
"Your turn."
Tim looked up at the Dark Lord and nodded slightly, standing up and getting out of the seat. He made his way to her, and she looked up at him pleadingly. He didn't know if he could do it, in all honesty. He'd never tried this curse on anyone, much less, the woman that he was harbouring a deep and all consuming love for.
"It's okay." Olivia said, watching the boy whom she'd studied with and befriended look conflicted. He could barely keep himself from crying, she was tough as nails.
"C-crucio," he said, in almost a whimper. Her screams pierced his ears, he'd never get the sound out of his head. Suddenly Bellatrix was beside him, leaning down, leering at Olivia.
"Tell us why you lied," she laughed, "she thought she bested us."
The rest of the group laughed, and Tim saw Olivia clench her teeth,
"I did." She spat at Bellatrix, who in turn stepped on the girls fingers, eliciting a cry. Tim felt like he would never stop feeling ill for the rest of his life.
It wore on, Tim's heart breaking, Olivia gritting her teeth and letting a scream out every now and again, Bellatrix laughing. It seemed to go on for days until Voldemort said,
"You may stop,"
"Right." Tim said numbly, watching Olivia struggle to breath. Her fingers looked broken, bent in haphazard directions.
"She'll stay with you. Draco doesn't have the stomach for what needs to be done." Voldemort said simply, he stood up and walked out of the room, the rest of the deatheaters dispersed and Tim was left with his mom, Narcissa, and Draco.
"I didn't know how to warn you." Draco said, almost inaudibly, as he passed Tim by and left the room—trailing his mother. Tim watched the Malfoys leave the room, and stepped towards Olivia, trying not to look to eager or concerned. She barely recognized that anyone was touching her, but Tim scooped her up, and nodded to his mother who apparated the three away.
———
"You know her." Clarice said, watching Tim place the broken girl on their couch.
"No." He replied, expression dark.
"Don't lie. I've had enough of that from your father." She said tersely, Tim looked at his mother, who had always been understanding and stood before him more unhappy than he'd ever seen her.
"She's a friend." He decided to be honest,
"But a Ravenclaw?" She asked,
"Yes." Tim answered, not wanting to give more information away.
"You didn't seem to hesitate with—" Clarice started,
"—it was her, or us." He interrupted, his voice cross. He had to take care of his family, no matter what Olivia meant to him. And he had the opportunity to keep her safer now, due to having no hesitations or reservations. He turned away from his mom and picked Olivia up off of the couch, "I'm going to put her in the guest room."
Clarice nodded, understandingly, "perhaps you want to clean her up first, Ella can help."
Their house elf appeared at the sound of her name and looked up at Tim, expectantly. Tim shook his head,
"No, I can do it myself."
—
Tim had nearly gotten all of the dried blood off of her, wringing out the now very red rag he was using into a nearby basin of water. He started on her hair, wanting to make sure it wasn't caked onto her head when she woke, and bandaged up her fingers. He had needed Ella after all, for a mending spell, but sent her away just as quickly as she came. He didn't waste any time in cutting Olivia's robes off of her, she was in her school shirt and button-down top, which he left not wanting to break her trust any more than he had. Her clothes looked awful, and he knew she must have a plethora of bruises underneath, but wanted to wait for her to wake. She looked scores better, by the time he was finished, she'd been in and out of consciousness throughout the entirety of the day. He sat next to her, holding her hand lightly so she knew someone was there, for the entire night. He struggled to keep his eyes open, but couldn't bear to think about her waking up alone in a new and unfamiliar place.
She stirred around four a.m. the following morning, eyes fluttering open. Her hand pulled away from his instinctively and she recoiled from his body,
"Who are you? Where am I?" She demanded, fear dripping from her voice.
"Olivia, it's Tim. It's me, Tim. Lumos," he said, the tip of his wand lighting the room. He saw her, more scared than anyone he'd ever seen, her knees were pulled up to her chest, her eye still red and bloodshot. The scar across her face, which he'd tried to attend to, looked garish and misplaced along her porcelain skin. She seemed to relax as soon as she saw him,
"Why am I here?" She asked, her directness after being tortured surprising to him. He thought she'd be mad at him, for what he'd done, but there was kindness in her eyes—and understanding.
"He said Draco didn't have the stomach for what needed to be done." Tim answered, he watched Olivia stiffen,
"What needs to be done?" She whispered,
"Dunno." Tim shrugged.
"How long has it been? Since?"
"Three weeks."
"I presume I'm being held here, you can't let me go?" She asked, and Tim nodded bleakly.
"I'm sorry."
"Is Harry okay? Sirius?" She asked,
"Sirius died. Harry and them are all okay."
"And—"
"I don't know anything about your Weasley, I'm sorry." He interjected. She nodded understandingly, but started to cry. It shocked him to see her cry simply because he didn't know about Fred, but not while being tortured. He watched her sob, it was quiet, her breathing haggard from what he assume were broken ribs. Tears only seemed to spill from the one eye, as if the other stopped working entirely.
"He m-must be so w-worried. He would've b-been so c-c-cross," the last word shuddered out of her, like she couldn't get any air, "that I'd been s-so daft."
"Olivia, you've got to calm down. Your ribs." Tim told her, trying to lie her back down on the bed. She refused, sitting up starkly, fighting against his gentle hands.
"B-but,"
"But nothing, this isn't solving anything. We'll make a plan, come up with something. Fred is probably worried, yes, but hurting yourself more by getting worked up won't make that stop. And your friends are alive, because of you."
"A p-plan?" She sniffled, he'd never seen her look so helpless, his heart softened for her more than it had before.
"I don't make it common practice to hold friends hostage." He said stoutly.
And maybe it was because she hadn't seen a friend in weeks, or that she was in more pain than she'd ever thought imaginable, or maybe it was because she truly thought she was going to die, but she wrapped her arms around Tim and whimpered,
"Don't leave me."
"Not ever." He agreed, pulling her close, he couldn't help it, his guilt overwhelming him, "Olivia, I'm so sorry, I had to do it—"
"It's okay." She cut him off, knowing he had to do what he did.
—————
Hope you guys enjoyed this one!

Lots is going to happen! Beeeeeeee excited!!