‘My baby! My baby!’ I screeched. Donny was wrenched from my grasp and a knee was cushioned painfully in the small of my back.
Officers stood around me laughing at my inevitable loss. I didn’t even try to stop myself from crying. Hot tears streamed down my cheeks in steamy torrents and blood rushed to my head. I was dragged away forcefully, Donny becoming further and further away.
Paul’s figure stood at the end of the dirt track. He reached out for Donny - our three-year-old son - and pressed a kiss on his forehead. His eyes didn’t leave me once. The child writhed and wailed in Paul’s muscular arms, but his father didn’t loosen his grip. Paul didn’t show any obvious emotion; he was as blank as a blackboard. I knew what was running through his mind though.
I was too far away to touch either of my boys, or reassure them that everything would turn out fine. I desperately wanted to hug my toddler - for the one last time. Already I knew that that wasn’t to be; the men just dragged me on remorselessly, ignoring my pleas.
We were almost at the constabulary hut - we had turned a bend in the road and I recognised the all too familiar path. I had lost sight of my family, but there were more villagers around the bend. To think I had considered these people as my friends! I had brewed potions constantly to keep this bunch of ungrateful muggles reasonably healthy. Now though, they stood and jeered, throwing their rotten produce at me.
Then I saw the man I loved round the corner without my baby. Cold fury lit his face as he ran towards my captors and struggled to release me. A mix of officers and villagers descended on him, trying to stop him. He fought against them, but I hated to see him fight.
‘There’s nothing you can do, Paul,’ I hissed. ‘Donny needs you!’
For a split second he looked me in the eye. His expression seemed to soften, but a sharp jab from an officer brought him back to his senses. He shook his head fiercely.
‘But we both need you!’ he snarled passionately, shoving men away from me.
The villagers were moving in on him though - cornering him even. They spat in his handsome tan face that I knew so well. Cuts blossomed on his body, blood oozing out of his wounds. He was a fruit being squeezed until it had given all of its juice and shrivelled up.
Sobs shook my body. Nobody was holding me, and I could’ve apparated quite easily if I wanted to, but I couldn’t leave Paul or Donny. I also couldn’t apparate in front of a crowd of ever-watchful muggles.
The officer nearest to me seized my arm and led me roughly away in the direction of the interrogation rooms. I didn’t bother trying to fight - what was to be will be. Being led away from my husband was horrible though; Paul was in a bad way, and couldn’t use his magic, the same as I couldn’t. His wand had probably snapped in all the kicking and punching anyway.
‘C’mon girl - get a move on! We can’t do with time-wasters,’ my captor said gruffly.
I moved my pace up a notch. The villagers were gradually ebbing away from Paul - they seemed to think they’d defeated him. I knew Paul was stronger than that though, so I forced myself not to fret so much, and stopped craning my head to try and see him through the crowd. My captor’s grip tightened, I felt as if somebody was squeezing my arms with pincers. I didn’t comment for fear of his hold on me becoming worse. I stared ahead and stewed in my own thoughts. It was easier to pretend I was on my own.
My captor snickered and thrust a thumb in the direction of Paul. Obviously, he could sense what I had on my mind. ‘Huh-huh. They’ll catch up with him and the babe before long love.’
A cold, sick fear swept over me at his words. I was worrying about Paul and Donny, but it never occurred to me that anyone would seek to harm my child. Oh my, oh my. What had I done to deserve this? I gulped to try to clear the feeling, but all that seemed to do was make it bigger. I fingered the light bulge of my abdomen. The child inside me was never going to see the world. If I didn’t survive this, my family would never grow.
Digging my hand casually into the interior of my dress, I pulled out my wand and shoved it deep into my pocket for easy access. Anybody around me was too busy laughing about my misfortune to notice.
I was shoved into a dark, dingy, damp room and told to sit on a wooden stall in the centre. My captor bound my arms and legs with some rough, strong cord and stood behind me. They would find my wand easily now - why did I move it? Why hadn’t I thought about the possibility of ropes? How naïve was I?
The roof above my head leaked and the droplets mixed in with my drying tears. I tried to sit as tall and proud as I possibly could, but my body ached all over and the twine was tight and cut into my wrists and ankles. Splinters picked my bottom like pins - I didn’t dare shift.
Three officers entered the room and stood in a row before me. I sensed my captor’s quick breathing on the back of my neck; his hands snaked down my dress where nobody else could see. I felt sick again, and didn’t dare to speak. His breath smelt of stale tobacco and whiskey. The smell overwhelmed me and I started to retch. Sick scalded my throat and trickled down my chin, spoiling my dress. The man drew away from me though, and didn’t seem to want to come too near again.
‘Thank-you Mr. Stones,’ said the man who stood directly in front of me. He had a demanding air about him; he had to be the chief.
My captor - Mr. Stones - shuffled awkwardly out of the room. The chief flicked a coin at him and he scuttled away.
‘You know why you are here?’
I tried to hold his withering gaze but found that I couldn’t. I shook my head vigorously, making myself dizzy.
‘She doesn’t know!’ The man cackled mockingly, turning to his fellows for support. They laughed insanely. Anger flared inside me.
He brought his face so that it was level with mine and grasped my chin so that I couldn’t look away. He squeezed painfully hard.
‘I am Chief Loster,’ he spat in my face and spoke in a low, soft, deceiving voice. ‘This is Thames and Nant.’ He pointed to his companions who looked pleased at the recognition.
Loster drew away from me sharply, grazing my chin. I felt blood trickle down my neck. With my hands bound, I had no way of stemming the flow.
‘You were seen girl!’ he snarled, his voice rising dangerously.
I was confused and probably looked it. Seen doing what? Paul and I lived on the outskirts of the village, and we hadn’t come into the settlement until this morning. Nobody could’ve seen us doing magic. We’re careful about it.
A smile played on Loster’s lips. He was enjoying himself! How would he feel if his family was in my regretful position?
‘Seen doing what?’ I asked tentatively.
Loster rolled his eyes. ‘Cursing Mrs. Goodfellow’s chickens you ignorant woman! They were all found dead and bearing the distinctive mark of witchcraft this morning.’
My temper was rising rapidly. I couldn’t lose it now.
‘Y-your not suggesting that-that I killed them?’ I stuttered, appalled at the accusations being thrown at me. I knew when I was dragged to the room that I was being questioned about witchcraft (that much had been clear), but this was absurd! I had never even seen Mrs Goodfellow’s chickens. There was no point trying to deny it though - they’d just rebuff anything I had to say.
‘I’m not a witch,’ I lied, whispering furiously.
‘Oho-’ Loster smirked and raised his eyebrows. The awful laughter rose to a dreadfully high pitch. I wanted to cover my ears and scream over the top of them.
‘Admit it and we can end all this faster.’ Loster stopped smiling and the laughter seized. He was deadly serious.
‘Never,’ I breathed.
---
I stood on the riverbank. Thames had taken my clothes and subsequently my wand. I had no way out. Shivers took over my body, and goose bumps erupted all over my limbs.
‘Witch! Witch!’
Chants broke out all around me as Thames and Nant secured me tightly. I wasn’t afraid for me, but for Donny. He wasn’t going to have parents. He would be homeless.
Paul had been stoned and beaten up brutally. I had walked past him ten minutes ago and he hadn’t heard my words for him (I was quickly told to shut up or else) or seen me through his injuries. Blood still seeped from him, but he wasn’t dead yet. The attacks had stopped, but he was obviously only clinging to a thread of life. I couldn’t help him.
Donny wasn’t in the crowd. I hadn’t expected him to be. He was further along the bank though, on the other side. How had he got there? I didn’t know.
Oblivious to all that was around me, and lost in my thoughts, I was shocked to find myself being shoved into the icy water. Murky sewage and weeds rushed past me as I writhed around; the breath was knocked out of me. I gulped for fresh air, but all I inhaled was dirty river water. Then I stopped moving. I either had to float or sink. Which would it be?
I lay suspended in amongst the waterweed for a second. It seemed like years. Then I felt a rushing sensation beneath my back and I found myself bobbing on the water, staring up at the stretch of grey sky.
‘She’s a witch!’ I heard Loster’s voice announce. Screams, shouts and shrieks pierced the air. The audience had expected me to sink.
I turned to look at the opposite bank. Donny was standing and gazing intently at me.
‘Mammy …’
Paul appeared beside him - mere lines had replaced his cuts. He pulled the spare wand out of his pocket and pointed it at my bindings, as the muggles started to pull me in. I flopped back into the water - I felt so light without anything tied around me. Dipping underneath, I swam hard towards the opposite bank. My unscathed husband pulled me out and then picked Donny up. He sprinted into the cover of the trees behind him. The muggles weren’t even half way across the river and they couldn’t see us behind the greenery. Paul grabbed me and span on the spot. I was being squeezed into a suffocating tube with the two I loved and cared for most. They had just saved me.
Paul had taken us to another forest, and I took Donny from him, kissing every inch of my son’s fragile head.
‘Oh my baby!’
I suddenly realised how cold I was - Paul seemed to read my thoughts. He gave me a small smile and handed me my thick woollen dress. I pulled it on hastily, after putting my toddler down, and Paul pulled me into a comforting embrace. He grabbed my hands and murmured in my ear, so that only I could hear.
I picked Donny up again, and he cuddled me tightly - so glad to have his Mother back again. Paul encircled us both and disapparated.
Hogsmeade was bustling with students from up at the school. It was obviously a Hogsmeade Weekend. Paul led the way through the town, shoving his way towards the pub. He disappeared in the throng as soon as we got to the door and I found us an empty table in the back corner of the room. After a few minutes, Paul reappeared with two butterbeers and a pumpkin juice. He plonked them on the table, and sat in the chair opposite Donny and me, leaning forwards so that we could hear each other above the noise.
‘Louisa, I have booked us a room in here for tonight. Tomorrow, we’ll find a new place to live (that’ll be difficult) and I’ll go job hunting,’ Paul shouted in my ear.
I nodded at him, jostling Donny on my knee. I didn’t want to let my son go again, I had only barely escaped death, and why should Donny grow up without me? I took a swig of butterbeer and mulled over our situation. Thank my lucky stars that I already had a job in the wizarding community. I worked in the Ministry of Magic. Paul had been working as a farm hand in the muggle village we’d just been banished from, but he was clever enough to get a basic magical job. Paul doesn’t like using magic where he can help it.
‘I’m sure there is a job at the ministry you could grab; the pay isn’t always great though - and we’re going to need the money,’ I fretted aloud.
Paul stroked Donny’s nose. ‘We’ll manage.’
My eyes searched the arm he had stretched out. Lines were all over him - the result of shoddy healing work. I caressed one of the scars.
‘They were horrible to you,’ I gasped, loud enough for him to hear.
He took Donny from me and set him on the floor. Paul took my hands in his gently and smiled sadly.
‘It’s in the past Lou. What they did will forever be with us, but we have to be optimistic and move on. We’re going to start a new life. Living amongst muggles when the price for being a witch is so high? What were we thinking?’ Paul asked. ‘We are going to be happy. Donny is going to be happy. The baby inside you - and anymore to come - is going to be happy.’
‘I know,’ I sighed.
Paul nodded in approval and drained his butterbeer. I scooped up Donny, and Paul grabbed my hand. We were walking into our new and happy life. Donny would go to Hogwarts eventually, and we would live near the magical community. Not muggles. Our ordeal had shown us one thing - definitely. Muggles are more dangerous than they look.