As most of you know, the idea of Ginny being Draco's prisoner belongs to burgosdamasco who wrote "While You Were Sleeping" (you should read it if you haven't!!! It's so good). I saw in her LiveJournal that she'd be updating it soon & there's a chapter in there if y'all are interested. Anyways, I keep getting comments from "Anonymous" who says I shouldn't be using someone else's idea. What do y'all think? I mean, I love that story. I'm not trying to insult her. I've sent her emails, left reviews, and posted in her Journal, asking her if it's okay for me to use her idea, so hopefully I'll hear back soon, and if she says no, then I'll have to take this story off. Sooooo, let me know. What should I do? I don't think I'm stealing her work or anything, but now it's bothering me. I'm hoping she'll be flattered. We'll see, I guess.
PS I love y'all, all my absolutely fabulous super wonderful reviewers. (yes, even the person who said I sucked!)
Broken Down
"Dinner," Draco said flatly, noticing Ginny and pointing to the top of his desk.
She tiptoed across the room and carefully began eating the still warm stew. He watched her closely, and she began to prepare for the worst. He didn't speak, so when she finished, she carefully left her chair and edged her way to him, sitting at his feet. "Are you okay?"
"He's gone."
"I'm sorry," Ginny answered.
"No you're not," he snapped, his voice a low hiss. "Nobody is going to be sorry that my father is gone."
Ginny could see the emptiness in his eyes, and as much as she wanted to hate him, she knew that he had saved her from an end that could have been much, much worse. "I'm sorry for you."
"Why?"
"Because you helped me. You took me out of the dungeons and let me stay in here. Because you let Luna go. Because you didn't do what you were asked to do to me yesterday. And because you're hurting."
He continued to stare at her, then stood up as if to leave, but made no move.
Warily, Ginny stood also and moved until she was standing in front of him. Cautiously, she let her arms circle him. He stood stiffly, unmoving for a long time.
"Why are you doing this?" he asked finally, pulling her away from him.
"I don't know."
"You should be glad. Be glad that I'm suffering. Don't I deserve to suffer after all that I've done to you?" he demanded, his voice hard and bitter.
"I, I don't know," she repeated.
That night he slept with his arm suffocatingly tight around her.
"Your brother is fine," he told her the following afternoon.
Ginny glanced at him, but he was staring down at his desk. "Thank you, Master."
"Don't . . . call me that anymore."
"Oh. Right." For reasons she didn't know, she felt a small smile curve her lips, and felt a light flutter in her stomach.
***
The next few weeks passed in a dull series of monotonous days. When Draco did speak to her, he was cordial, and he ceased to demand things of her, which only proved to make the lonely days drag by. Ginny was grateful she wasn't in the dungeons, but she wished desperately for company. Some days she could hear screaming as someone was dragged down the hall or tortured or beaten, but most of the time, the room was silent. She still slept tucked underneath Draco's arm, her nights sleepless because of his moans and his restlessness.
One morning, when she woke the room was still dark, and glancing up at the small windows she could see that the sky was dreary and overcast. Not feeling Draco's weight beside her, she rolled her head to one side and saw him sitting at his desk, his back to her.
"Get up," he said, without turning to face her.
She climbed out of the bed and stretched before speaking. "Good morning."
"Get dressed. And hurry."
She didn't like the fierce, urgent tone in his voice. "What's going on?" She crossed the room to stand at his side, but he wouldn't look up at her.
"Now, Weasley."
Surprised, and more than a little hurt, Ginny did as he asked, scurrying to put on her robes. "I'm ready," she said quietly, several minutes later.
"Eat," he demanded, shoving the tray of food at her.
"What's wrong?"
"Eat!" He still wouldn't look at her, and Ginny's stomach tumbled violently as she forced the toast down her throat.
"They're talking," Draco finally said, his back to her. "They're talking about you and it's not good."
"Who is?"
"They suspect that you are too happy in here. I can't have that. I can't have my guards think it's okay to treat someone well, to give them special privilege's. This is prison. I have to be the example. I am their leader, that's my duty. My duty is to the Dark Lord." His voice had a desperate edge, as if he was trying to convince not only Ginny, but himself as well.
"What do you mean?"
"You can't stay in here."
With that he stood, pulled his Death Eater mask over his face and turned to her. "Let's go."
"No, please-"
Her grabbed her arm and poked her in the back with his wand, ignoring her tears.
"Where are we going?"
"Silencio," he muttered, pulling her out the door.
Ginny's mind twisted with terror as he led her lower and lower, unmistakably heading for the dungeons. She dug her heals into the concrete floor, only to be dragged more violently, silent screams dying in her throat.
Draco used his wand to open the heavy metal door in front of them, and Ginny was viciously shoved into the darkness.
She had no idea how much time had passed before the door opened again. She had cried ten thousand silent tears, as Draco hadn't taken the silencing spell off her, and she was starving. She knew others were in the room with her, but the voices weren't familiar. A small bowl of thin soup was pushed in front of her and she ate it greedily, before falling into a nervous sleep.
Time passed torturously slow, as there were no windows or clocks to let her know the date or hour. Every so often, a hooded Death Eater she suspected to be Draco came in and fed them. Occasionally her cellmates were taken out, and sometimes they returned, sometimes they didn't.
Ginny was sleeping fitfully, when the sudden blinding light from outside startled her awake. She could see the silhouetted form of a Death Eater, but knew immediately that it wasn't the one who brought them food. No, this person was shorter and some what stockier.
"Lumos," he muttered.
Ginny squeezed her eyes shut and turned away as the wand light passed over her.
"There you are, red," a voice she heard in her nightmares called out.
Ginny shrunk against the wall as Marcus Flint advanced on her.
"I almost gave up looking for you. Malfoy thought you were dead, but lucky me, I find you in here!"
"Go away." She moved her mouth, but no words came out.
"Can't talk?" he laughed again. "Don't worry, I like you that way."
She fought him as he dragged her forward, scratching his face and slapping him until he bound her hands, kicking him and spitting on him, but he continued to laugh.
He shoved her into a small room, much smaller and nowhere near as nice as Draco's, with two beds and not much of anything else. He pushed her into the wall, and when she whirled around, she was satisfied to see that her scratches had left bloody trails in his skin.
"I don't have time for you now," he eyed her greedily, "but I'll be back for you." He used his wand to bind her against the wall. "Don't go anywhere."
When she was alone, she began to cry. Dear Merlin, she was going to turn into Luna. Draco didn't want her anymore, and Marcus fucking Flint was going to have her at his mercy. Marcus fucking Flint was going to take her virginity. She wanted to go home. She wanted this war to end. She wanted to die a painful death before she wanted Flint anywhere near her. She cried violently, until the pitiful contents of her stomach came up, and then she cried some more. She didn't understand why Draco had made her go back to the dungeons. She didn't understand what his fanatic monologue meant when he insisted that his duty was to the Dark Lord. Ginny didn't believe him. He had been too kind to her in the weeks before he'd sent her back to the dungeon.
Her tears left her exhausted, but she was too afraid to sleep. She didn't want to wake up with Marcus Flint in her face.
Ginny stayed pressed against the wall, her ankles and wrists bound behind her for what felt like hours, with dread and fear growing more and more intense until she felt certain her heart was going to simply pound out of her chest. But then I'd be dead, she thought, and that would be a good thing. And for the first time in her life, Ginny began to pray that she would just die.
When the door creaked open, Ginny bowed her head and said goodbye to her sanity.
Flint entered, and stood in front of her. "Miss me? I missed you. Thought about you." He made several obscene gestures and so Ginny closed her eyes.
He undid the bindings on her ankles, but she kept her eyes tightly shut.
"Know what I'm going to do to you?" he asked, his hands running across the front of her robes.
Ginny lashed at him with her foot, connecting with his knee and throwing him off balance, but he just laughed.
"That's what I like. I like it when you fight back. More fun, don't you think?" He dove at her, and the sudden impact of his weight caused her to open her eyes. He laughed again as he reached for the front of her robes and ripped them apart. "We are going to have so much fun." And he promptly began to tell Ginny explicitly what he was going to do to her.
Ginny didn't know if she should continue kicking and fighting against him, afraid that it would entice him more, or if she should just give up and accept her fate.
I want to die. I don't want to live. I don't want to go home. I don't want my family to know, don't want Ron or Harry to know. Please, please, I just want to die.
A loud knock at the door interrupted them. "Be right back," Flint told her, his voice fake happy. As he jumped up, his wand slipped to the floor. Hands still tied behind her back, Ginny lunged for it. I'm going to kill myself. She grasped the wand between her hands, paying no attention to who was at the door and aimed it at her back. "Avada Kedavra." But no words came out. She still couldn't speak. No, no, no! Desperate, she stood to her feet, her mind reeling.
"What the hell are you doing?"
Ginny looked up, startled. It wasn't Flint who had yelled it, but Draco, and he had been talking to Flint.
"Interrogating this prisoner," Flint said with a shrug.
"No!" Draco roared. "This is bullshit! I told you to stay away from her. I told you that the Dark Lord specifically needed her unharmed!"
"That's the bullshit," Flint said angrily, shoving his hand into Ginny's chest, knocking her to the ground and then retrieving his wand.
"Yeah? Why don't you ask him? Why don't you say, you know, I really wanted to fuck this prisoner, but Draco won't let me. He says you need her."
"You got a thing for this whore?" Flint smiled nastily. "Don't want anyone to fuck her except yourself? What's he gonna say about that?"
"Avada Kedavra," Draco roared with a flick of his wand.
Ginny's eyes nearly bulged out of her head.
Draco stepped over Flint's body. "Did he hurt you?"
She shook her head quickly.
"What's wrong?"
"I can't talk," she mouthed, pointing to her lips.
With another brush of his wand, Ginny felt the spell life. "What did he do?"
"Nothing. He didn't have a chance." As the realization settled over her, her knees gave way, and Ginny toppled to the floor, sobbing.
"Are you sure?" Draco knelt and stood her back up, using his wand to mend her robes.
She nodded, unable to stop her tears.
"Come on," he muttered.
"Please," Ginny gasped, "don't take me back to the dungeons. Please. Just kill me now, please."
He stared at her. "What really happened?"
But Ginny couldn't speak. The thought of what had almost happened was too much. The room began to spin, and she could feel all her blood pounding behind her eyes, and then the room went black.
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