Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of his little friends...blah blah blah.
“Where am I?”
“Tell me where to find Potter,” a man hissed.
The young woman strained to open her eyes against the bright light. Her head throbbed, the pain pulsing throughout her body. As her eyes focused she noticed a hooded figure, tall and built.
“Who’s…who ‘spotter?” the woman slurred.
“Who is Potter? Who is Potter? You must be kidding. Tell me unless you want another taste of the Cruciatus Curse!” The man was unnerved to see the youngest Weasley appeared confused. Thinking back an hour ago the man understood her strength, but he thought he had broken her spirit.
Completely baffled, Ginny thought she might cry. All she wanted was sleep, but when she tried to roll over on the musty mattress she felt restrained. With wrists and ankles bound, she could only squirm and wiggle her fingers and toes. Stay calm, she told herself. I will remember everything soon.
“Tell me, you filth, where is Potter, and what is the Order planning next?”
The Order?” That sounded familiar.
“Crucio!” shrieked the man.
Pain…
~
“Ugh...” Ginny tried again to roll over in her small bed. Even lit by one candle, the room’s dull light hurt her eyes. A pitiful moan escaped her lips as she tried to curl into a ball, to disappear.
“Sir, she’s awake,” said a concerned voice. Ginny glanced toward the man, desperate for empathy, but a mask hid his face. This man had the same rigid posture and black cloak.
“I am not sure that we will get any more information from that bitch. Have your way with her then feed her to the dogs for all I care.” The man sneered.
I know that voice. He cursed me. Ginny began to fight the ropes that bonded her, clawing and kicking. Reaching the bottom posts, the second man untied her feet. Out of instinct Ginny kicked him square in the center of the mask. A resounding crack and the man’s cursing filled her with satisfaction, pride even. She realized her mistake when she tried to run and found both hands still tied in place.
A deadly glare came out the eye slits of his mask, and the wizard that seemed to be in command laughed coldly. Suddenly the second man’s hands grasped her throat. “Weaslette, you are going to regret that!” The masked man tightened his grip.
“Ple…” Ginny begged, but her words were cut off, as was her air.
The laughter coming from the hooded man ceased. “Stop it!” he snapped. “Take her out of here. We have other people to interrogate.”
“Yes, sir,” said the other man, stiffening, his voice tinged with malevolence. With a flick of his wand ropes bound Ginny’s feet together. She looked into his face, frightened, wondering what would happen next. Eyes of the most beautiful silver-blue glared back at her, cold as ice. Kneeling on her mattress he untied her hands, but held them strong. He pulled her violently off the bed and up over his shoulder.
Without kicking or screaming Ginny looked around as she was carried away. Turn left, then right, two lefts and up some stairs… Eventually she lost track. Ginny decided to try to speak again.
“Um…Sir?” Her voice echoed on the cold stone. The masked man stopped, and all of the muscles in his body stiffened. “Where am I?” With a sharp intake of breath he continued moving.
Not pushing her luck Ginny was quiet the rest of the walk. The man slowed, creak, and the heavy door opened. As Ginny squirmed and twisted to see where she was she realized that the man’s hood had fallen off to reveal platinum blond hair. Something struck a chord in Ginny’s memory…that hair.
The man flipped Ginny back over his shoulder and plopped her mercilessly on the bed. As he did he felt a tug on his mask. Ginny hit the floor, his secret identity held in her hand. He raised his right hand across his left shoulder and was about the hit her in anger when he saw the look on her face. It was not disgust, spite, or anger, but brown doe eyes exuded confused curiosity. Hand suspended in the air, the man wondered for the first time, “Maybe she doesn’t really know who or where she is.”
I know him. I know I know him…but who is he? I know the pointed chin, that hair, and most of all those eyes. Ginny stared, trying, but could not place where she had seen this man. He was staring at her as though expecting some sort of reaction. “Who are you?” she blurted out.
“Who…? Are you serious? Can’t you remember?”
Ginny tried to grasp onto her thoughts. She couldn’t remember Potter or the man in front of her. She couldn’t remember where she grew up. She knew she was a witch, but other things flittered around in her mind; what was true and what was not seemed blurred. Ginny felt nauseous and the room spun.
The man bent down to look at her. “I’m Malfoy.” He stared at her, almost willing her to remember, to curse him, or at least kick him again, but she didn’t. A tear slid down her cheek. He lifted her chin to look into those pools of chocolate. “Draco Malfoy.”
Ginny continued crying. She pushed his hand away and began to truly weep. Draco stood up and began looking around the room as if there were a button her could press to cease her tears.
“You are Ginny Weasley!” he roared. He was sick of playing this game. Still the young woman looked up at him confused. Measuring her, Draco took in her appearance. Ginny had long dark read hair and an amazing body, beautiful in simplicity. He shook his head. “I know what you’re doing. I am not buying it!” There was a moment of deafening silence until Ginny let out a huge sniffle.
Just as Draco was turning to leave he heard a small voice ask. “You know who I am?” Another sniffle. “You know who I am.” This time it was not a question. “You and that other man; you both did this to me!” she began yelling. “Take it back!” she stood up now, moving closer. Ginny started repeating the words, “Take it back!” louder and louder. Draco was shocked and wondered what she was going to do next. Her body moved close enough to his that he could feel the energy radiating off her.
“Take it back! Fix it! Undo what you did!” The words tore out of Ginny’s throat as she pushed Draco back against the wall. Trying with all her might Ginny beat her fists into Draco’s chest. He grabbed her wrists strongly and threw her onto the bed. He said one word, “Stay.”
“Where am I?”
“Tell me where to find Potter,” a man hissed.
The young woman strained to open her eyes against the bright light. Her head throbbed, the pain pulsing throughout her body. As her eyes focused she noticed a hooded figure, tall and built.
“Who’s…who ‘spotter?” the woman slurred.
“Who is Potter? Who is Potter? You must be kidding. Tell me unless you want another taste of the Cruciatus Curse!” The man was unnerved to see the youngest Weasley appeared confused. Thinking back an hour ago the man understood her strength, but he thought he had broken her spirit.
Completely baffled, Ginny thought she might cry. All she wanted was sleep, but when she tried to roll over on the musty mattress she felt restrained. With wrists and ankles bound, she could only squirm and wiggle her fingers and toes. Stay calm, she told herself. I will remember everything soon.
“Tell me, you filth, where is Potter, and what is the Order planning next?”
The Order?” That sounded familiar.
“Crucio!” shrieked the man.
Pain…
~
“Ugh...” Ginny tried again to roll over in her small bed. Even lit by one candle, the room’s dull light hurt her eyes. A pitiful moan escaped her lips as she tried to curl into a ball, to disappear.
“Sir, she’s awake,” said a concerned voice. Ginny glanced toward the man, desperate for empathy, but a mask hid his face. This man had the same rigid posture and black cloak.
“I am not sure that we will get any more information from that bitch. Have your way with her then feed her to the dogs for all I care.” The man sneered.
I know that voice. He cursed me. Ginny began to fight the ropes that bonded her, clawing and kicking. Reaching the bottom posts, the second man untied her feet. Out of instinct Ginny kicked him square in the center of the mask. A resounding crack and the man’s cursing filled her with satisfaction, pride even. She realized her mistake when she tried to run and found both hands still tied in place.
A deadly glare came out the eye slits of his mask, and the wizard that seemed to be in command laughed coldly. Suddenly the second man’s hands grasped her throat. “Weaslette, you are going to regret that!” The masked man tightened his grip.
“Ple…” Ginny begged, but her words were cut off, as was her air.
The laughter coming from the hooded man ceased. “Stop it!” he snapped. “Take her out of here. We have other people to interrogate.”
“Yes, sir,” said the other man, stiffening, his voice tinged with malevolence. With a flick of his wand ropes bound Ginny’s feet together. She looked into his face, frightened, wondering what would happen next. Eyes of the most beautiful silver-blue glared back at her, cold as ice. Kneeling on her mattress he untied her hands, but held them strong. He pulled her violently off the bed and up over his shoulder.
Without kicking or screaming Ginny looked around as she was carried away. Turn left, then right, two lefts and up some stairs… Eventually she lost track. Ginny decided to try to speak again.
“Um…Sir?” Her voice echoed on the cold stone. The masked man stopped, and all of the muscles in his body stiffened. “Where am I?” With a sharp intake of breath he continued moving.
Not pushing her luck Ginny was quiet the rest of the walk. The man slowed, creak, and the heavy door opened. As Ginny squirmed and twisted to see where she was she realized that the man’s hood had fallen off to reveal platinum blond hair. Something struck a chord in Ginny’s memory…that hair.
The man flipped Ginny back over his shoulder and plopped her mercilessly on the bed. As he did he felt a tug on his mask. Ginny hit the floor, his secret identity held in her hand. He raised his right hand across his left shoulder and was about the hit her in anger when he saw the look on her face. It was not disgust, spite, or anger, but brown doe eyes exuded confused curiosity. Hand suspended in the air, the man wondered for the first time, “Maybe she doesn’t really know who or where she is.”
I know him. I know I know him…but who is he? I know the pointed chin, that hair, and most of all those eyes. Ginny stared, trying, but could not place where she had seen this man. He was staring at her as though expecting some sort of reaction. “Who are you?” she blurted out.
“Who…? Are you serious? Can’t you remember?”
Ginny tried to grasp onto her thoughts. She couldn’t remember Potter or the man in front of her. She couldn’t remember where she grew up. She knew she was a witch, but other things flittered around in her mind; what was true and what was not seemed blurred. Ginny felt nauseous and the room spun.
The man bent down to look at her. “I’m Malfoy.” He stared at her, almost willing her to remember, to curse him, or at least kick him again, but she didn’t. A tear slid down her cheek. He lifted her chin to look into those pools of chocolate. “Draco Malfoy.”
Ginny continued crying. She pushed his hand away and began to truly weep. Draco stood up and began looking around the room as if there were a button her could press to cease her tears.
“You are Ginny Weasley!” he roared. He was sick of playing this game. Still the young woman looked up at him confused. Measuring her, Draco took in her appearance. Ginny had long dark read hair and an amazing body, beautiful in simplicity. He shook his head. “I know what you’re doing. I am not buying it!” There was a moment of deafening silence until Ginny let out a huge sniffle.
Just as Draco was turning to leave he heard a small voice ask. “You know who I am?” Another sniffle. “You know who I am.” This time it was not a question. “You and that other man; you both did this to me!” she began yelling. “Take it back!” she stood up now, moving closer. Ginny started repeating the words, “Take it back!” louder and louder. Draco was shocked and wondered what she was going to do next. Her body moved close enough to his that he could feel the energy radiating off her.
“Take it back! Fix it! Undo what you did!” The words tore out of Ginny’s throat as she pushed Draco back against the wall. Trying with all her might Ginny beat her fists into Draco’s chest. He grabbed her wrists strongly and threw her onto the bed. He said one word, “Stay.”
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