For now, I present you with the first. A bit of background:
This was supposed to be a 'Voldemort won the first war' sort of fic. Katie is bought by the Flints as a 'companion' to Marcus. In my mind, the storie would've shown the first few years in one or two chapters and focus on their (later) years at Hogwarts and how the new rebellion would affect their 'relationship'. I'm sure I have more notes on this. I'll need to dig them up.
Aurelius Flint pressed his lavender-scented handkerchief closer to his mouth and nose to keep himself from inhaling the stench that seemed to have embedded itself into the walls. With his free hand, he pulled his obstinate three-year-old son along. His wife trailed after him, stopping every few minutes to inspect the merchandise, to his utter annoyance. The new arrivals were in the very back as he had told her a thousand times before they had left the house. The stupid bint and her bleeding heart probably wanted to buy everything she came across. It was a good thing he was here to stop her. They were here to buy, true, but he had his standards. Damaged goods were non-negotiable.
“Blood hell, woman, walk along,” he growled over his shoulder. He narrowed his eyes at her in warning when she lingered too long by a young woman chained to the wall by her arm. Judging by her ripped clothes and numerous bruises, she was clearly damaged goods and already written off in his book. That would not do. “Elisabeth, now! We don’t have all day.”
Elisabeth Flint flinched up at her husband’s tone, but couldn’t find the will as he had ordered. She kept her eyes on the hurt woman on the dirty floor. The severe cuts on her shackled wrist looked infected. Her free hand clutched onto the ruffled edges of her torn dress, preventing it from falling to sides and exposing her naked, abused body. However, Elisabeth didn’t see all that; she refused to see her old schoolmate stripped from her dignity. Instead, she listened to her barely audible murmurings and nodded in understanding.
“I don’t have much time left. She looks like me, please.” The woman looked up with feverish eyes. “Please, save her. She’s just a little girl.”
Before Elisabeth could answer, her husband yelled her name again, angrier than before. This time, her son’s whimpers followed soon after. Aurelius had hit Marcus again to punish her for her disobedience. After a final glance at her old schoolmate, she quickly darted away to join her family, to free her boy from his father’s dangerous hands. Having been stripped from her wand since their wedding day, she pressed a handkerchief against her son’s bleeding nose and picked him up. As he buried his face in the crook of her neck to muffle his sobs as she’d taught him, she turned to look once more at the woman she remembered as Belinda Bell.
There had to be a way to help her. Or, at least, honour her former friend’s plea.
Aurelius grabbed her arm roughly and shoved her, making her stumble. “Don’t make me repeat myself again, you dumb cunt. You’re an embarrassment for a wife as it is.”
Elisabeth nodded subdued, tears of humiliation pricking in her eyes. She had learnt as early as their courting not to argue with him. “Yes, sir.”
“Make yourself useful and make the idiot stop crying.” He passed her with a huff, again shoving her as he did. “Hurry up. I’ve got better things to do.”
Elisabeth wasn’t sure what she’d expected when her husband had ordered to come along today. She hadn’t agreed with the reason for the visit, of course. His idea had been a common one in the older days. She had often heard her grandfather talk fondly about those jolly times, as he had called it. But she couldn't see the charm or the purpose of it. But as a good wife was supposed to do, she had merely nodded in agreement.
In the next few minutes, her husband would pick one to take home, subject them to unimaginable cruelty in his need, no, their Pureblood society’s need to reinstate the olden days one Crucio at a time.
She couldn’t remember what had happened to her grandfather’s companion, and at the same time, she didn’t need or want to know. She could guess.
A whipping boy. They were here for a whipping boy.
As she scanned the room, taking in the dirty faces of the frightened children huddled together, bile rose in her throat. According to the rumours, these were the children of a few Order members the Snatchers had caught in the woods near Hogsmeade. The older girls and boys had been removed already, together with the children’s handler, Belinda Bell. Elisabeth didn’t want to think about the fate of those older boys and girls. If their buyers were anything like her husband, she had little hope that they’d make it to the end of the year.
Although she wanted to save them all, she couldn’t. Not without getting herself killed and leaving her Marcus to the mercy of his father.
A small child crying not far from her demanded her attention. At the same time she turned to the sound, Marcus lifted his head.
“Baby is sad too,” he said in a small voice.
Elisabeth nodded, her voice failing. A small girl, she couldn't have been older than two, dressed in nothing more than a dirty nappy, rubbed her eyes with her fists as she cried for her mother. Bruises and scrapes marred her pale skin. Her brown hair stuck in matted strands to her scalp. And as a stocky little boy not much older than Marcus, hugged and sang to her, the girl lowered her hands. Elisabeth swallowed the thick lump in her throat that had formed upon recognition. This was the girl she’d promised to help.
Belinda Bell’s daughter.
How in Merlin’s name was she going to convince Aurelius to take a girl as the whipping boy for Marcus?