Secrets and Masks

65. All night long

TW; torture and mentions of rape

AN; In case anyone is like me and likes to listen to songs that are written about in chapters to help them visualise the scene better, the song featured in the second hald of the chapter is "All night long" by Lionel Ritchie.

16th April

"Theo ... I don't like this."

"It'll be over in a minute. Promise."

"I feel stupid."

"Well, that's weird. You don't look stupid. You look gorgeous."

"Please don't make jokes right now. I don't like this. I can't see anything!"

"That's the point, Daph. It's a surprise," Theo chuckled behind her. His breath tickled the back of her neck and made goosebumps rise on her arms. "The first step is right in front of you so walk very carefully -"

"How am I supposed to do that when I can't fucking see where I'm going?!"

"Don't worry, I won't let you walk into anything." When Daphne scoffed irritably, there was a brief pause, and then Theo added. "Unless you don't fix your attitude, then you're on your own woman."

Daphne knew he wasn't being serious but her heart sank nonetheless. Her thick, artificial flashes fluttered behind Theo's palms. She hated this. Being in the dark not being able to see what was in front of her ... it reminded her of ...

If anyone other than Theo had asked her to do this, she'd have told them to fuck off. She hated being in the dark these days, even the thought of it made her feel a little sickly. She needed to be able to see everything around her at all times, needed to be able to see every corner so she was sure no one could sneak up on her.

Blaise said there was no shame in sleeping with a candle burning on her bedside table but still, she felt more than a little foolish.

Daphne hadn't been scared of anything before. Apart from losing her family, she had no real phobias or fears. She wasn't scared of spiders or heights or things that went bump in the night.

In the old days, she used to be able to slaughter a room full of people and not even smudge her make-up. In the old days an army of muggle soldiers could've been aiming their rifles at her and her heart wouldn't have even skipped a beat, but now? She'd had her husbands hands covering her eyes for a mere thirty seconds and sweat was gathering on her temples and her knees were trembling together with fear.

Daphne Nott, the most deadly female Death Eater that ever lived, was scared of the fucking dark. Oh, Bellatrix would've loved that.

She hated herself for allowing this irrational fear to develop. It made her feel pathetic. It made her feel small and helpless and everything that she wasn't and didn't want to be, but more importantly, it reminded her of Crouch.

That was the real problem. This fear of the dark, it'd come from him. What had been a game for him had developed into a crippling trauma for her.

He used to do it all the time. Wait until the dead of night, blow out all the candles in his manor and wait for her to walk past. Hide behind dark corners and attack her. Barricade himself in a room with her and then stalk her. Grab her. Hex her. Stab her. Leave her panicking and terrified and unable to see where or when the next attack was coming from.

It'd gone on like that for years, developed and developed until eventually, every time she was left in a dark room - every time she couldn't see - her adrenaline spiked and her heart leapt into her throat, waiting for him to find her, to catch her, to ...