Prankster Princess

He stared at me differently than I was used to, and it was worrying me.

“Gabe, what’s wrong?” I asked my boyfriend of just a day and a half.

I wasn’t ready for what he did next. He grabbed my hand, and leaned into me.

His lips were rough, much more experienced than mine. It was my first kiss, but it was definitely not what I had ever expected, and much, much less than I had ever hoped for. He was too rough, his hands too adventurous, his lips too eager.

My heart lurched into my throat, and I shoved the nineteen year old back slightly.

“Gabe, what---?”

I couldn’t finish before he attacked my lips again.

Gabe and I were alone at my house - in my bedroom. My parents had taken Henry to visit my grandparents and had, as was the usual, left me behind. I had invited Gabe over, telling him where we lived, and asked if he wanted to watch a few movies. It had led to this, just talking as we leaned against each other watching the television in my room.

Why did it have to come down to this?!

Gabe forced me back on my bed, hovering over me and kissing me roughly. His tongue found its way into my mouth, and my fighting against him, trying to shove him off, only made him more enthusiastic. He was three years older than me; he was stronger than me, and of the stronger gender.

How did I let it come to this?

My wand was far out of my reach - downstairs in the living room. I couldn’t blast him off, I couldn’t fight him off. I could only struggle helplessly and futilely as his cool hands went up my shirt, then stripped the garment from my body in a single, fluid motion. I let out an indignant cry before he silenced me with his mouth again, hands caressing my side in a way that I might have liked - had this been three months or more of dating rather than just over a day.

My fright increased when I felt the clasp of my jeans give, and I knew then that he intended to take me.

Whether I was willing or not.

Crying out, asking him to stop, I was utterly helpless as he took the most private, intimate thing a woman can have from me: the sweet innocence of virginity.

--

I shot up in my bed, gasping and shaking my head to clear it of the awful dream. The awful reality pressed into me, and I hugged myself tightly. Only three days later, after our argument the next day in which I’d cursed him out of our house - against the wizarding statute of secrecy, might I add - the Death Eaters had come and taken Henry.

And he was one of them.

So it was my fault. I had always known it was my fault, always knew but never wanted to say. And guilt welled up inside of me. Guilt at the carefree feelings I got around my new friends, almost as if I was betraying Henry by enjoying myself. And I knew he’d want me to be happy, because Henry was the only one who had ever cared, but I couldn’t forgive myself for just leaving him to cope, helpless, in the hands of the Death Eaters. I had to find a way to help him.

I couldn’t just let him be.

--

Just a few months later, I learned of Fred and George’s plan to leave, to start up their joke shop in Diagon Alley, and I knew it may be my only chance to get out, and possibly be closer to finding out more about Henry and saving him. So I begged and pleaded with them to let me go.

“Please take me with you!” I asked when I cornered Fred. “I can’t stay here without the two of you!”

“Take you with us…? Whatever are you going on about, Vera?” he laughed. He was always the better liar, but I didn’t buy it, and I slapped him across the face. Hard.

“I can’t stay here if you two leave! You’re…” I couldn’t believe I was telling him, but if it would convince him… “…you guys are all I’ve got.”

“You’re only a sixth year,” a voice behind me said, and I spun to see George looking at me softly. “You’ve got so much more to learn before you should leave.”

“I can’t stay here!” I protested. Unbidden, tears came to my eyes.

Was I going to lose my only chance to get closer to saving Henry? And in conjunction with not leaving here, was Umbridge going to continue to taunt me, as well as the Slytherins, with the knowledge of my missing brother?

I fell against George then, who seemed taken aback and stumbled into the wall. My face buried in his chest, I choked out, “Please don’t leave me here! Umbridge and the Slytherins…Henry! I…I can’t face it all on my own. Please. Please take me with you!”

And just like that, I had convinced them. Fred said that he had to go talk to Angie for a while, and George just continued to hold me until I was done crying and thanking him. His arms tightened around me comfortingly, and we stayed in that shortcut for several long minutes as the remnants of my tears dried and he did his best to soothe me.

As strong as the pain in my heart was, being like this with George softened the edge of the hurt by at least a small margin.