(14 : HANG THEE YOUNG BAGGAGE . . .
DISOBEDIENT WRETCH)

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     RETURNING TO HER FAMILY HOME filled Juliet with dread, and dread was an awful, sticky feeling. Although the teenager had only stayed with the Potters for two nights, she decided against writing to her parents. Being reckless was not in her blood, so for her to admit she had fled an important ball in favour of an evening with blood traitors was sacrilege. Even if she didn't regret the decision, she knew better than to provide her parents with a written confession of her sins.

Being seventeen, Sirius volunteered to apparate alongside Juliet. An unspoken conversation passed between the two — only briefly — but Juliet simply shook her head, steeling herself before walking past the blood wards, through the iron gates of the Fawley Mansion. He wanted to understand, she knew, but the problem lay in the fact Juliet Fawley was not half as brave as Sirius Black.

The door swung open before Juliet could even place her key in the hole. Within seconds, an imposing and infuriated Arin was bellowing, "Where have you been?"

"I was with a friend," she replied shortly and attempted to brush past the red-faced man.

Commanding her attention, the man grabbed her arm. "Which friend?"

Juliet ran through the number of purebloods that would cover for her and the list was short. "Regulus," she settled on. "We were practicing our answers for the reporters before we announce our engagement. He knows someone at The Daily Prophet — William, I think — who can arrange us an interview."

Lies, in her experience, were always better when details were added — vague enough that they couldn't be disproven, but specific enough that they could be believed. The chances were someone called William did work at The Daily Prophet, but Regulus didn't know them, nor did she spend Christmas Day with her fiancé.

"I owled Orion only a few hours ago about a business matter. Strange he wouldn't mention this," sneered Arin. "Tell me the truth, Juliet. You shamed our family quite enough already. Lucius told me how you came onto him —"

A humourless chuckle escaped her throat. "I came onto him? Is that what he said?"

"The truth," demanded her father sternly.

"I was with Black," she said, using a technicality to be truthful. "But we weren't at Grimmuald Place, so I didn't have the pleasure of Orion's company."

The pair stared each other down until Juliet gasped upon feeling an unapologetic attack on her mind. One thing to know about Arin Fawley was that he happened to be a man of many talents — a Slug Club alumni with high level access to the Ministry of Magic and a trusted confidant of Lord Voldemort was evidence of such. In particular, he was gifted in the arts of Occlumency and Legilimency. It was a deliberate choice of his to not train his wife or daughter in such arts, their lack of defence was intended to serve as motivation to not keep any secrets from him.

     Even without being formally taught, Juliet liked to consider her mind a fortress because she had spent most of her life building walls around herself to keep people out. Following the carefree and relaxed environment of the Potters, however, Juliet's guard was lowered, meaning her mind was successfully compromised.

    Juliet, Sirius and the Potters were sitting around a long table. Between idle chatter, Fleamont leaned over to spoon some more carrots onto his plate and a gravy boat exploded, coating the old man's face in the brown substance. He feigned anger.

    In a rather frantic manner, both James and Sirius tried to plead their innocence, sharing glances as they shouted, "It wasn't me!"

     From the other end of the table, Euphemia sat with a coy smile on her face.

    "Get out!" cried Juliet, clutching her head.

    There was a new scene now. Sirius was chasing after Juliet with enchanted mistletoe, teasing her endlessly about wanting another kiss. Shrieking, the redhead dodged in the kitchen and pushed James in front of her. Soon enough, both James and Sirius were trapped under the mistletoe, which brought immense satisfaction to Juliet. Behaving more awkwardly than she had ever seen, James blushed. However, Sirius was unflinching in grabbing James by the collar and pulling him in for a quick kiss on the lips.

    "You slobber when you kiss," snorted James, wiping his mouth with his sleeve.

   Stammering backwards, Juliet imagined erecting walls of metal, brick and stone in her head. But the surfaces were too slippery and the walls all fell like the next domino in a line. A new memory burst through.

     "Ooh, love, ooh, loverboy, what're you doin' tonight, hey, boy?" Sirius sang loudly along with the song.

    As the record played, James pulled Juliet up from the couch, twirling her round and round the living room. He suddenly dipped her and she burst into a rare fit of laughter when her stomach wooshed. James stared at her lips for a second too long before coming to his senses.

    "Set my alarm, turn on my charm, that's because I'm a good old-fashioned loverboy."

By the time her father had ravaged her mind, Juliet was breathing heavily. "You had no right to do that."

"I had every right!" he screamed back. "I have done everything for you. My top priority has always been to find you a husband and a gentleman of noble blood, then you repay me by acting like some common whore, consorting with mudbloods and traitors. Your impertinence will not be tolerated, not when the Dark Lord has bestowed an honour upon our family by blessing your union of only the purest blood." Arin clenched his fist, knuckles white as pale ashes. "You foolish, foolish girl. Do you understand what would happen should others hear of your grievances?"

"I have never once objected to the union. In fact, I have been quite agreeable," she said in a deadly calm tone. "I have always been the perfect daughter. I never once questioned you, or challenged you because I wanted to make you proud and yet . . . you'll never be satisfied with how far I bend my own morals to suit your honour and your reputation. I see that now."

His lip curled. "You are a pitiful excuse for a child and you can hang, beg, starve, die in the streets for all I care! Not only did you have the gall to lie to me, you show no shame for abandoning your duties for the weak wills and weak blood of the Potters."

"Their blood is as pure as mine or yours."

"Diffindo," he hissed, causing a small cut to form on the girl's cheek. Touching her cheek, the girl frowned at the crimson drops coating her fingers. "You bleed red, Juliet. They bleed mud. The Potters have long dirtied their line and I will not allow them to taint you, not when our purity will makes us walking gods under the Dark Lord."

Deep down, she knew he was too far gone to be saved. All she could do was watch, helpless, as her father descended into insanity. His once calculated movements turned more erratic with each ticking of the grandfather clock. Tick, tock. His wand was poised at her throat. Tick, tock. Her back hit the wall with a thud. Tick, tock. They reached a stalemate.

     "I'm sorry," she said vacantly.

     Using his spare hand, he reached out to stroke his daughter's cheek. "Shhh, my girl," he comforted, "I won't let them dirty you anymore. The Dark Lord can purify you yet — as long as you believe in the New Order."

    Between gritted teeth, she stated, "I believe."

     "Liar!" hissed her father. Like a cobra waiting to strike, he retracted his hand and squeezed his forearm against her neck. "I don't need Legilimency to know you have wavered from the path I forged for you. It's no surprise you're as wanton as your wretched mother." His tone was venomous. "No matter. If you're so adamant on befriending blood traitors, I'll treat you like one."

      Juliet squirmed. Arin grabbed her by the hair, yanking the teenager to her knees.

     "Crucio," he accentuated clearly.

     The pain was instant. It was as if every nerve in her body had been struck by a match, then submerged into the depths of an ice bath. Her body writhed as if she could shake away the cold fire that was swallowing every inch of her body — hot, cold, hot, cold. Everything in her body was changing. Blood rushed to her head in a dizzying wave and her heart slowed to the beat of a funeral march. Until that moment, she had thought of pain like a current — a force that ebbed and flowed — but it was under the intensity of an Unforgivable Curse that she found out pain was constant. It was everything and nothing.

     A thousand knives weren't slicing her open, but it felt like it.

     A thousand needles weren't moving slowly in and out of her brain, but it felt like it.

     A thousand elastic bands weren't constricting her throat until it hurt to scream, but it felt like it.

     What was seconds seemed like hours. Juliet begun to wonder if she was imagining the pain, or there really was a ringing in her ears. Even when the curse ended, her body ached, groaned and throbbed like a machine that had long rusted. Only when she deflated, her chest falling like a balloon, did her father move to recast the spell with more vehemence than the first time.

     She briefly wondered if it was possible to bite your own tongue off because coppery blood dripped out of her mouth. Her screams bounced off the walls and would no doubt haunt the mansion long after she had passed. Knowing this, it would've have been so easy to get lost in the agony — to fall into the inviting arms of the darkness — but something in the back of her mind warned her against it. Juliet held on until the sound of footsteps retreating could be heard.

    By the time it was over, Arin Fawley's hands remained as bloodless as they ever were. And Juliet Fawley lay on the marble floor, wondering why she had ever wanted to be brave in the first place.

     "Ooh, loverboy, what're you doin' tonight, hey, boy?" she hummed under her breath, watery blue eyes glazed with fresh tears. "Everything's all right, just hold on tight . . ."

   
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A.N: This actually wasn't mean to be up so early, but I couldn't wait! Act 3, Scene 5 is one of my favourites, so I couldn't resist this parallel. Plus, I was really bored because work was so dead today and I planned most of it out then. Whoops. I'm also starting to drop hints about James' feelings because he would definitely fall first, but this remains a slow burn. Next chapter we're back at Hogwarts.

How was everyone's Christmas? If you celebrate, of course. Let me know if you got anything nice or did anything nice.