Snatched

"Where are we going now?" She was asking me as we quietly left. The tall black building sank back into the gloom behind us as we moved down the alley away from it, and to give myself time to think, I took her by the arm and snapped,
"Stay close, will ya?" She glowered and pulled her arm back (which I seized for a second time and threatened to charm there) and pressed us into the side of the streets we passed through. The whole time I was on edge, my eyes darting around, darkened, somewhat, by stress, fatigue, worry; there were little blue-grey streaks beneath, hollows.
"I hate how you do this," she muttered, pulling back a little, and as we passed under a little archway I sighed and pushed her into the wall and snapped,
"Let me put it into perspective for you, darlin'. You slow down and someone sees us- that's you an' me both dead, alright? Azkaban if you're lucky, and I've told you what that's like."
"You're not scaring me," she retorted, pursed her lips. I struck my first against the wall beside her head and she glanced at it, fell silent, and I said sharply,
"I'm past that, darlin'. I'm so past that." My fingertip trembled beside her jaw but didn't touch her; in the end I dropped my hand and she jumped in:
"Then stop." I glanced at her and she said, more forcefully, "We don't have to go anywhere. Let me go back to castle, she might..."
"She might what, darlin'? Play chess with you, turn you into a mouse? I can tell you right now she won't be giving up."
"So you keep saying," she said, "So you keep saying. But what can she do? There're other teachers in the school. They're not all death eaters."
"Let me remind you," I said, tiredly, my voice trembling with frustration, "Who the headteacher is at the present moment. Like he'll care about some mudblood what don't mean nothin'. You attacked Alecto, you damaged her pride, and that's what matters to them, don't it?" She bit her lip.
"But..." I put my finger quietly to her lips and whispered,
"You're so bloody naïve, darlin', you know that?" Her eyes were wide and resigned, gazed pitifully at mine. "I've already told you. You're better stickin' with me." I turned away from her and began to walk back towards the main road but I missed the sound of her footsteps and glanced back to see her still there, staring at me, her arms folded. It was the same expression she'd given me when I'd told her to heal the boy for the first time, the same one she'd given me when I hit her that first time, the same one she'd had that night at the 'Cauldron, wounded, hurt, resilient. I marched back up to her and yelled:
"What do you expect me to do? Hey? Just 'cause we- 'cause we're- don't mean-" I broke for a second, breathing hard, felt for all the world like I always did when I was with the lads, telling them what to do, ordering them around; but it wasn't them scrambling to do my bidding, was it, it was her, and she was just staring, staring at me in this helpless way, downcast and broken. I took her by the shoulders and shook her; at first, just a little, and then, when she didn't respond, harder, so her head whipped back and she hit it on the wall behind her, and then gasped, tears springing to her eyes.
"Please," she said, and reached her hand out, touched my face. "Please. I can't do this. I don't want to. Just let me go." I was shaking my head but something in her eyes told me it was futile what I was doing, what I was saying. I'd gone too far, now; we'd crossed that line, and I couldn't just dispose of her, pass her on.
“Can’t,” I muttered, felt her fingertips brush past my ear. But she was nodding, and I realised then that only she had the power, the magic to make me do, because I was tired, and I was lost, and I couldn’t think for myself, couldn’t feel.

It all happened so fast that I wasn't sure what I was doing. Exhaustion and devastation turned me numb and I half-stumbled through the village, heading blindly towards the outskirts, away from all that had happened- far away. And she held onto my hand the whole way but it was dizzying, and we were spinning out of control, spinning into oblivion. Not the first time in my life I hadn't been aware of what was happening, but the last I'd ever feel like that. So mixed up. So- far away.