The Ravenclaw Queen

Hell would be mercy

(AN. Severe trigger warnings are necessary. There are talks of abuse (Mental, physical, and sexual) and mentions of self-harm. Take care of yourselves. If you don't think you can read this chapter, you can DM me and I can tell you about the important aspects without all the triggers. Question of the day, how do you think third year will go for our little crew?) 

"That's it, take it like the good little slut you are!" Vernon yelled at me. 

This has been my past two months. If I said the wrong thing, he would beat and rape me. If I wore something he didn't like, he would beat and rape me. If Harry made him mad, well I think you get the idea. 

"Please stop!" I screamed and sobbed. 

"Shut up!" He yelled and continued his actions. 

After he was done with me, he left me lying on the bed. I was in a pool of bodily fluids and blood, and everything hurt. I had bruises covering my body and cuts to accompany the bruises. And not every cut came from my uncle. 

"If you would just learn to be silent then this wouldn't have to be so violent," Vernon told me, "It could instead be beautiful." 

"This will never be beautiful," I told him, gasping for air. 

Vernon took off his belt and beat me with it. I let out screams and that seemed to be fuel for his torture. I heard banging on the door, and I knew it was Harry trying to get in. He wants to save me, but he can't. I am trapped in here. And hell would be mercy compared to what my uncle has done to me. 

"You will learn to respect me, slut," Vernon spat, before giving me one last hit, "That teacher will be here tomorrow, look presentable." 

He left the room and drug Harry away. I haven't had a conversation with him all summer. No one is allowed to see me. I don't get any letters from my friends. I can't even see Petunia or Dudley, just him. He is trying to break me, and I'm trying to not be broken. But even I'm starting to wonder if it's really worth fighting it anymore. 

That night I crawled to the bathroom and ran a bath for me. I soaked in the tub, hoping the hot water would help with the chronic soreness I had felt all summer. I grabbed my razor and shaved my body, after all, he gets mad if my body isn't smooth. Then I used the razor to cut my thighs. It may seem dumb to hurt myself even more than I am already being hurt, but this is the only pain I have control over. This is my only aspect of control anymore. I need this more than I need air. I need out. Why would Dumbledore do this to me? 

-Time skip, the day after her birthday-

"You were a good little girl yesterday," Vernon told me, "Maybe I should reward you." 

Where is Mattheo? He said he would come for me today? Does he still care about me? 

"Talk to me!" He roared, his hands gripping my wrist so hard I was sure they would bruise. 

Please Mattheo. Please save me. Please.

"Did I do it? Did I finally break you?" Vernon laughed, tightening his grip. 

I need Mattheo. Please.

"Maybe you do deserve to be rewarded after all. I mean good girls do get some amount of pleasure." 

I did what I had to do, and that was to dissociate. I have been dissociated for most of the summer. Some may consider it a curse, but it has been my only source of comfort this entire summer. 

"Get away from her!" A familiar voice yelled, but it was muffled in the background. 

"Who are you?" my uncle demanded. 

I was lying completely naked on the bed. I was bruised and bloodied. I was ugly. 

"I am a Riddle. You will step away from her," Mattheo said stepping forward. 

"You are too young to use magic," My uncle taunted. 

"Not too young to stab you," Mattheo told him coldly, "I should do it based on what you've done to this girl." 

"She's my little slut-" 

"Call her a slut again, and I will kill you!" Mattheo screamed, pulling a dagger and putting it to my uncle's neck. 

"What do you want?" My uncle asked, his voice wavering.

"Give me Hayden and you and your pathetic family live. Tell Dumbledore you don't want her back, and they will continue to live," Mattheo told him, his voice cold, and his eyes hard. 

"F-fine," My uncle stuttered out and left the room. 

Mattheo ran to me and grabbed some clothes from my trunk. 

"I don't want to scare you, are you okay if I dress you?" Mattheo asked me, and I numbly nodded my head, blankly staring ahead. 

Mattheo slipped on some underwear on me and helped me get on a sports bra. He grabbed a jumper and slipped it over my head, and a pair of sweatpants for me to wear. He put on my socks and a pair of sneakers for me to wear. He grabbed a hairbrush and brushed through my knotted hair and put it in a braid for me. 

"Is everything you need packed?" He asked me. 

I nodded my head. 

"Can I carry you?" Mattheo asked me, and again I nodded. Mattheo picked me up, and I wrapped my arms around his neck. He grabbed my trunk, and we left the house. Mattheo glared at everyone as we walked out the front door. I looked like hell, and I had been through it. We took a bus to get to the leaky cauldron. 

"Do you care if we stay in the same room for the upcoming week? I can get us separate rooms," Mattheo told me. 

I noticed some paper on the counter, so I grabbed that and a pen. I wrote the words, Please don't let me be alone.

"Okay, let's take you up to my room," Mattheo told me. 

He carried me up to his room and laid me on the bed. I noticed that he was setting things up on the floor, so I grabbed his arm. 

"I didn't want to make you uncomfortable," Mattheo told me softly. 

I pulled him onto the bed to signal what I wanted. 

"Okay, let me change real quick," Mattheo told me. 

Five minutes later, he returned in a plain white tank top and some grey sweatpants. He got into bed next to me, leaving space in case I was uncomfortable. I snuggled closer to him, and he wrapped his arms around me, holding me close. I should have been scared of his touch, but he saved me. Mattheo Riddle saved me. 

"Happy birthday, darling," Mattheo whispered to me as I started to fade. 

I squeezed his hand as a sign of thanks. 

I was just glad to finally be in his safe arms again.

(AN, I am doing a character contest.

Name:

Year: 3

From: (Anywhere but UK)

Pronouns: (He/him, they/them)

Hair Color:

Hairstyle:

Eye color:

Race:

Style:

Sexuality: Pansexual

House:

Personality:

Background:

Have fun! You can either comment or DM me for an entry)