The look of sheer terror upon Astrid's face as the prisoner climbed the stage made Draco actually tremble.

He recognised that look, it was the look he had seen in her back in the days of the playground. And going by the way she was looking at that man, Draco had a horrific feeling he knew who he was.

"Draco! What are you doing?" His father hissed, pulling his arm violently back as Draco went to run towards the stage.

"I can't let him do this to her!" Draco cried, feeling desperate as he pulled himself free from his father's grip.

Pushing Death Eaters out of the way, he scrambled up the stage and threw himself towards Astrid who looked like a deer caught in headlights.

But before he could reach her, he found ropes suddenly snaking their way around his body, tying him to a chair that had flown out of nowhere.

"Ah, Draco!" Voldemort chuckled, "didn't want to miss out on the fun? I'm sure we can find you a little parting gift too. But for now, you get the best seat in the house!"

"Astrid!" Draco cried, looking at her imploringly as he hopelessly tried to fight against his restraints, "don't forget who you are. Don't forget you're your mother, too!"

"Crucio!"

Pain tore through him, making his whole body contort violently against the ropes. Draco couldn't help but yell, desperate for death to come and free him from this torture.

"Father, stop it!" He heard Astrid scream desperately.

At once the pain lifted, leaving him panting breathlessly and drained to the very core. He felt soft hands on his cheeks, and as he exhaustedly lifted his eyes, he saw Astrid's blue ones staring fearfully down at him.

"Please don't let him destroy you," he choked, his voice barely a whisper, "please."

He closed his eyes as a tear leaked out the corner, rolling down his cheek which she wiped gently away. This was the Astrid he loved, and he couldn't let Voldemort take her away without a fight.

"Please, let him go father, I beg of you!" she cried imploringly over her shoulder, not removing her hands from Draco's face. "I will do anything!"

"I want you, daughter, to acknowledge my thoughtful gift." Voldemort spoke softly and dangerously as he walked up to the quivering prisoner and patted him on the head.

Draco glanced up at Astrid who looked like she was going to vomit. Her eyes refused to look anywhere near the man in chains. He wished so much his arms weren't tied up so that he could hold her and protect her from all of this.

"If I'm not mistaken, he once too, used to call himself your father?" Voldemort sneered, as he appeared to dig his fingernails into the man's scalp making him emit a strangled gasp of pain. "A disgusting filthy Muggle trying to claim MY daughter as his own!"

Draco looked back up at Astrid who had closed her eyes as if to shut out the mental pain. Draco willed her to open them again so he could reassure her with his eyes, let her know he was here and he loved her and that those vile men behind her were nothing. Nothing.

"Please, father, just let Draco go," she sobbed, opening her eyes as tears rolled down her cheeks, splashing onto Draco's face which she still cupped in her hands.

"Not until you turn around and face the Muggle that used to call you his little pumpkin!"

"No," Draco pleaded, as she dropped her hands from his face, "stay looking at me! Don't turn around, I'll take whatever he throws at me, just please - don't turn around!"

"I love you, Draco," she whispered.

And then she turned around.

...

"Good, good! Come closer daughter, come closer."

I felt a fresh wave of horror with every step I took towards the two men.

"I've been keeping him nice and warm for you, daughter," my father said gleefully, grabbing my hand as soon as I got close enough, and yanked me to his side as he grinned across at the silent audience.

My heart hammered horrendously in my chest, terrified of what my father's plan would entail.

His other hand still clutching the scalp of Robert, my father thrust him forwards so that his face was only inches from mine, his eyes wide with horror as I was forced to look into them. I couldn't help but let a terrified yelp, my vision tilting violently in fear.

"Astrid! H-help me!" he cried, terror making him look and sound nothing like the man that he used to be.

I felt sick, this whole thing was beyond disturbing. How could my father possibly think this was a gift?

"W-what are you going to do him?" I asked, ignoring Robert's pleas. I dreaded to think what kind of disgusting torture my father had planned for the 'show'.

My father laughed loud and clear. "Me? Oh, daughter, I'm not going to do anything. You are."

I snapped my head up in horror, taking a step back. "What do you mean?"

"This is your gift, daughter." He said, his voice back to his soft dangerous tone. "A chance to get... revenge."

My father turned to address the room again, "for you see, this filthy, disgusting Muggle once thought it was okay to hurt one of our kind... to place his revolting paws on one of our young. MY YOUNG. And I assure everyone in this room tonight that this... thing will not be leaving here alive. Thanks to my daughter."

"I- I won't do it," I said, continuing to back away along the stage.

"Somehow, I think you will."

And then my father lifted his wand and pointed it right at me.

I screamed, squeezing my eyes tight shut, as memories forced their way to the front of my mind, as though someone had reached in and grabbed a video from my memory bank and started playing it to me against my will.

I'm being pinned against my dresser. I'm smashing the mirror over his head.

My bedroom door is creaking open.

"What have you got for daddy tonight little pumpkin?"

"No, please stop, don't daddy,"

"WHY CAN'T YOU BE MORE LIKE YOUR MOTHER?!"

Pictures, sounds, even smells, came crashing into my mind, making me hold my head in agony and scream out loud for them to stop.

"Astrid!" I heard a familiar voice in the near distance. Draco's.

I had stepped back so far away from my father that I had ended up back to the spot where Draco was still bound to the chair.

I sank to the floor by his feet, screaming as more and more memories came flooding in, vivid enough to make me feel as if I was experiencing them all over again.

"You stole my fucking beer you bitch!"

A fist flying towards my face. Whack! Pain spreading across my nose.

A heavy booted foot sinking into my stomach over and over again.

"YOU ARE USELESS, CHILD! A FUCKING USELESS STUPID BITCH!"

Tears coursed down my cheeks. How I was so desperate for the memories to stop.

"Fight it Astrid, fight it," I heard Draco implore in a strangled voice from somewhere above me, as he writhed and strained against his bounds. "They are just memories. He can't hurt you anymore."

"Let me go, daddy! Let go of my arm! You're hurting me!"

"You think that hurts, bitch?" The rise of the cigarette. "Try this for size!"

The agonising pain of the burn. Over and over again.

I wasn't aware I was screaming out loud until I felt arms wrap around me. Strong, familiar comforting arms.

"Astrid! It's okay, it's okay,"

Somehow, Draco was on the floor, kneeling in front of me, clinging me furiously to him.

"I'm here with you," he growled fiercely in my ear. "He can't hurt you."

But he was here, too - the man who stole my childhood and terrorised me over and over again.

Punish him, Astrid - you know you want to. Make him feel just a fraction of the terror he made you feel.

This time it wasn't a memory, but instead my father's voice seeming to penetrate my mind.

Make him squeal like the pig he is. Make him cry like you cried when he rammed his filthy, rotten Muggle flesh into you.

MAKE HIM SUFFER WHAT THE MUGGLE DESERVES.

"Arghhhh!" I screamed, clutching my head. Anger started boiling in the pit of my stomach. I felt a fire grow inside of me.

"Don't let him destroy you, Astrid," Draco implored, desperately cupping his hands around my neck, trying to get me to look into his eyes.

However, another memory exploded into my mind. But it was one I hadn't realised was there. A memory so terrible - more horrific than the subsequent years of torment from my 'father', that I had since repressed it altogether.

I'm in a car. Crying.

Daddy is driving. Daddy is drunk.

"Daddy, I'm scared. I want to go home!"

"Not until I find that fucking whore!"

"I want mummy!"

"Your mummy is a fucking tramp!"

"Please, daddy,"

And then I see mummy, walking on the pavement, coming back home from her night shift at the hospital.

I knock terrified on the window. But she doesn't hear.

Daddy drives faster. Too fast.

Mummy sees and starts to run away. I see her terrified face.

"Daddy, stop! Stop, daddy, stop!"

A deafening bang as mummy flies into the windscreen.

A deafening scream as I cower in my seat rocking backwards and forwards, backwards and forwards.

Daddy killed mummy. Mummy is dead.

My eyes flew open. My heart was pounding as a new kind of fury burned deep inside of me.

"Astrid?"

Ignoring Draco, I slowly stood up, turning around; turning to face the fucking bastard that murdered my mother.

And then I raised my wand.