Heliophilia; d.m

XLVII

Our windows will never close again, and the light will always penetrate inside.
I love you, it even brings me pain, and I will always wait for you on our seaside.

—

"Violet," The voice insistently broke through the noise in her ears as the dark haze in front of her eyes began to clear, "Violet." The voice was soft and singsong, but it sent a shiver through her.

It was a familiar voice that seemed to be hurting her, twisting her insides and breaking her bones — she held her breath.

"So," The hoarse voice came again from somewhere higher up, and when her vision finally cleared, she looked around.

The familiar dark walls, the familiar stairs leading up to the dark second floor, where was the room she had been locked in for months, the familiar cold floor where she knelt, and the familiar faces of the people standing in front of her.

Her heart ached with despair and incomprehension — she was at Malfoy Manor when only seconds ago she had been in her room at Mariel's house, with Draco.

But now she recognized him as one of the people who had been there, and waited for the next development.

"How did you like the movie I made for you?"

The voice that had brought her to her senses belonged to Voldemort, who was now grinning maliciously, mocking her helplessness and lack of understanding.

Violet felt a sudden surge of nausea and dizziness as the thought of him pulling her even out of the ground haunted her.
She would never be able to escape his torture and abuse, he would never leave her alone, he would never let her live happily — she was doomed.

"Stop it." Violet whispered, realizing that she had completely wasted her sanity just now, and everything up to that point was nothing, because what she was feeling now couldn't be compared to anything.

She had failed miserably in his cruel game, she had been completely destroyed, and, as he had wanted, she no longer knew what was real and what was an illusion, who was really alive and who was a figment of her imagination — she felt a fire inside that she did not know if it was ever possible to extinguish.

"Stop what? You didn't like your carefree life without me in it?" The question sounded surprised, mockingly surprised, "I knew my daughter loved me." Then he laughed viciously, his hollow laugh joining with the laughter of Seth, Bellatrix, and Barty, who had caught her.

They were all loyal servants of the Dark Lord, and they all laughed at Violet's stupidity and helplessness now.

"Do you want it to happen again? Do you want to go to the cellar, to meet sweet Luna Lovegood? Do you want us to bring old Ollivander to you right now? Do you want to live there for a few months? Do you want to live what I just showed you?"

Voldemort bombarded her with questions, putting more and more pressure on her, and on her psyche. He wanted to make her beg for mercy, he wanted her to be completely dependent on him, he expected her to completely break down, leaving only a pile of cold dust behind, and then he would take control of her, and this time completely.

"Do you want to run away again?"

Violet felt the tears begin to choke her, and her hands, still cold and frozen from the winter air, fell to the floor, her nails digging into the wooden surface.

Her eyes lifted, searching for a certain grey ones, waiting for it to help her not feel so much pain and despair, waiting for those eyes to help her figure out what to do next, waiting for those eyes to calm her down. But as soon as her gaze locked with Draco's, she felt the futility of her efforts.