Thanks to everyone who reviewed like Meg Meg Meg An, laila, blondie07, devilgirllit, emvee, reemy, and Momentyne (who reminded me of the title of the story that this story emerged from. How sad, I couldn't remember the title of my favorite story!!!). Again, I wanted to remind y'all that this story line (Ginny imprisoned by Draco) is not really mine. It's the brainchild of reading my favorite Draco and Ginny story and wishing I had more details.
Chapter 2 - Hungry
Draco grimaced with displeasure. For two solid weeks, he had forced the little Weasley girl to do his every whim, and yet she still had given them no information. Not on the Order, not on Potter or her brothers or any of the other Auror's. No information at all. He had forced her to clean every pair of boots he owned with her tongue, a trick he had learned from MacNair when he was the head of the prison, forced her to shine his floors daily, made her sleep on the cold floor with no pillow or coverings, made her witness the torture of several Muggles, Luna, Lavender Brown, and even the death of Pansy Parkinson, since she was spying for Dumbledore. And nothing. The little Weasley's eyes grew blanker and blanker, until Draco was no longer sure she actually comprehended a single thing.
He considered forcing her to watch as his fellow Death Eater's enjoyed themselves with the prisoner girl's, or even let her be used by one of them, but he couldn't bring himself to it.
He was sick of the prison. When his father had brought him the news, that he would be replacing MacNair, he was thrilled, but now as the days dragged by with little to entertain him, he wanted out. He wanted to go fight real battles and round up the Order and the rest of those Mudblood lovers, not stay here and watch as the Death Eaters bedded the prisoners and tortured them senseless. Somehow, it got boring when the other person couldn't fight back.
Earlier in the day, his father had stopped by to see if there had been any progress. "Nothing, Draco? That is not what I want to go back and tell the Dark Lord."
"What else are we going to do?" Draco snapped. "We torture them, rape them, torture their friends, and finally they die, but they tell us nothing."
"Find something," his father warned coldly. "Or are you not up to the responsibilities?"
Right then, Draco wanted to curse his father into oblivion. He was sick and tired of doing exactly what his father commanded, when and where he commanded it. What was the point of becoming a Death Eater, when he still was forced to serve his father? Draco wanted to make a name for himself, not to be trailing along in the Malfoy shadow. Truth be told, becoming a Death Eater was not what he particularly wanted to do either, but since his father was a known Death Eater, he'd had no luck finding other employment.
When he left, Draco had stomped back to his room, furious, and found the little Weasley nearly done cleaning the floor. Surveying her, tiny and pathetic in the corner, bent over his floor, only enraged him more. He trashed the room, leaving it a hundred times worse than it had been. "I'll be back in an hour," he hissed. "It had better be clean."
She had only bowed her head and replied, "Yes, Master."
Now, as he headed back to his room, a small and strange sensation crept on him, and he decided that if she had cleaned up, he would reward her with a pillow or maybe some type of blanket to sleep on tonight. Carefully he unlocked his door and peered inside. It wasn't clean. Not at all.
"Weasley!" he roared. There was no answered.
Blinded with rage, he slammed the door behind him and looked around. There she was, fast asleep on his bed. He crossed the room in three strides, grabbed her hair, and yanked her to the floor. "You stupid, selfish bitch!"
Disoriented, Ginny scrambled to her knees and hung her head.
"I took you out of the dungeon. I never let a single person touch you, and this is what I get?" He knew his rage with her was unjustified, but he didn't care. All his anger, frustration, and disappointment was suddenly being focused on her.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, bowing her head.
"Shut up!" he roared, kicking his foot, bringing the toe of his shoe into contact with her mouth.
She fell over, blood trickling from her lip, and tears flooded her cheeks.
"What are you thinking?" he hissed, knocking her onto her back and pressing his knee into her stomach. Her clenched his fists tightly, to avoid wrapping his fingers around her freckled neck and shaking her until it snapped.
"I was trying to clean, Master," she whispered, choking on her tears. "I was making your bed, and I'm so tired . . ."
"Then why don't you sleep at night?" he growled, his face only inches from hers.
"I do, Master, but I'm so hungry." She looked away from him, ashamed.
Draco froze and then stood up. Of course she was hungry. He had forgotten to feed her, and she hadn't said a single word. How could he just forget about feeding her, just like that? He was worse than the rest of the guards, he thought sickly. At least they kept their prisoners alive. He left the room, and returned shortly, with a tray of sandwiches, a bowl of stew, and a flask of pumpkin juice. Ginny was attempting to make his bed, her arms shaking violently.
Draco cursed himself silently as he set the tray on his desk. How in the bloody hell could he forget to feed her? "Come here and eat."
Slowly she made it to his desk. He watched as she nibbled at a sandwich and sipped her stew. "Thank you, Master."
When she had eaten half of the sandwich, she glanced up at him and said, "I can finish cleaning now, Master."
He felt sick to his stomach as he stared at her. Her red hair fell down, stringy and limp, her eyes were dark and sunken and looked like she had a permanent black eye, her skin was pale and worn, and she was too thin. "No," he said firmly. "Go lay down."
She glanced up to meet his gaze, disbelieving. "Master?"
"Go," he commanded, sharply. "Cleaning can wait."
Tentatively, she rose from her chair and made her way to the floor at the end of his bed where she slept.
"No. Get in the bed."
The little Weasley girl didn't have to be told twice. "Thank you," she said softly, lying carefully down on the dark green cover, and falling asleep within seconds.
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