'And even after she'd endured it all, broken herself to be the perfect daughter.. they looked through her as if she wasn't there at all.' - Unknown
It's one of those days when Valencia doesn't feel quite real, like a real person. Under her pale unblemished skin, her body feels like one big bruise, aching earnestly, dully, constantly. Lately, in the soft bright light of springtime, she'd almost begun to forget that she felt like this, feels like this – to forget the dreary, everyday-ness of the ache. It's an ache like the pain after a beating, but with none of the endorphins or euphoria: those reassurances of a body alive. She wants to cry, and she can sense the inner flood crashing and breaking against her, but for once the tears don't come. She feels like one of the vessels of potion in Jenkyns and Broughton's – as bitter as bile, as viscous as blood, stagnant water unmoving.
The sound of snapping and the sharp, whip-like CRACK of apparition is still echoing in his ears. Valencia slides down, slumping against a dirty, slimy wall in a damp, warded cell feeling wrecked and hopeless.
Valencia had screamed with her voice instead of wind, had fallen to her knees like a child, had apparated away and thrown into an underground cell, her bones still cracking into existence from her obscurus form.
"Val, no!"
The dark mass swirls and enlarges, wisps of the smoke-like stuff winding down her legs, twining with her braid, lifting her into the air. All Draco can see is her head, thrown back in agony and he knows, he knows she is fighting it, he knows she doesn't want to hurt him. He can't stand it, can't stand to see her suffer, and longs to take it from her, but he knows the darkness is hers and only hers to bear.
He wants to blame the Muggles, say that it was them who did this to her, but he knows that it isn't; it's his fault, he should've watched her more carefully, should've stopped them earlier, should've done what he could...
"Valencia, please. Your mum and family will protect you - well, if they won't, I will. But you have to stop this now. For me, please." She seems to calm down, the black stuff gradually thrashing less violently and the pupils returning to her eyes.
"That's right, just like that. Just like that."
And the dark mass finally shrinks and disappears. She is crouched on the floor, silent tears running down her cheeks. The darkness is gone, at least for a while, and that's cause for celebration. But he does not whoop with joy, does not dare raise his voice, for fear of startling her. He edges towards her slowly and slides an arm around her.
"Well done, Val, well done. Come on, don't cry any more." Draco says as he puts his arms around Valencia's shoulders which was now shaking uncontrollably. "I wish you could've told me sooner, I could've helped you."
She turns her face into his shoulder and mumbles, "I want to be safe."
"And you will be."
"But I'm a monster!" Valencia weeps.