Dark Days

This story is the brain child of reading one of my favorite stories late at night & wishing it was a little more elaborate!!!! So yeah, anything you recognize, probably doesn't belong to me!!!!

Chapter 1 - Meeting Master

Ginny Weasley rocked back and forth in the cold, her arms closed around her self, trying to shut out the screams she would hear, echoing to her ears from other parts of the prison. She was no longer sure how many days, or maybe even weeks, she had been down there. No light reached her or any of the other prisoners, and they were only fed sporadically, when they were on the absolute verge of collapse.

A dry, painful coughing came from the person next to her, and she shifted as much as her magically binding chains would allow. “Luna? You okay?”

“I'm fine,” was the reply, followed by more coughs.

Within minutes, the coughs died down and were replaced by Luna's raspy, but even breathing.

“We can't let them take her, Ginny,” Dean Thomas's voice filled the narrow room. “She's going to die out there.”

“I know,” Ginny whispered, fighting back her own sobs. “I know.”

Many times since she had been there, a Death Eater would come into their room, grab Luna by the hair and drag her out, singing, “Time to find out where Longbottom is.”

Luna and Neville had married shortly after he had finished his Auror training, and next to Harry, Neville was the best Auror of their day. Luna was tortured, in hopes that she would reveal his whereabouts. But she didn't speak. She barely even spoke to Ginny or Dean or Parvait, who were in their cell also. The only full sentence she had spoken was a warning. “Don't let them take you Ginny. The torture you can handle, but the other things . . .”

Ginny hadn't known what other things, until the night Luna was tossed back in their cell, naked.

She shuttered, wondering what had happened to the others she'd been with the night they had been caught. They had gone out to celebrate Colin Creevey's 20^th birthday, despite heavy warnings from Dumbledore and her mother not to go where danger might be. No counted on danger being in Diagon Alley, Knockturn Alley maybe, but never Diagon Alley. So they had headed out to a nightclub, whose current motto had been “Don't Let the Dark Days Get You Down” and just after midnight, the club had erupted with unforgivable curses. Ginny remembered dancing with an absolutely gorgeous wizard with bright blue eyes, then there were screams and shouts, and she was knocked out. When she awoke, she was chained up in the dungeon of Dartford Prison.

The heavy iron door to their cell creaked open and Ginny squeezed her eyes shut against the light. She had quickly learned that crying and screaming and cursing and begging did no good. It was best to save your energy because you might be next. Harsh, booted steps boomed through the floor, and Ginny nearly fainted when she felt her chains melt away.

“It's your turn, Weasley slut, let's go.”

Before she could react, a hand had clasped her hair and she was stumbling out of the room. The bright overhead lights of the long hall burned her eyes.

“Move it! He's waiting for you.”

Her eyes still had not adjusted to the light when she was pushed into a room. She landed sharply on her knees and broke her fall with the palms of her hands. Get up, get up, get up, her mind begged. Don't let Luna's fate become your own.

She squinted against the violent light, and saw the tall unmistakable form of a Death Eater in front of her. “Just what I like,” he said silkily. “The littlest Weasley bowing to me.”

Ginny scrambled unsteadily to her feet. She hadn't heard that voice in years, but she would never forget it. “You horrible, despicable-”

She was silenced as Draco Malfoy's hand bore down on her face. “Is that anyway to talk to the person who now controls your fate?”

Her lower lip trembled, but she pressed on. “So this is your reward?” she snapped. “You get to be head prison guard? That's your reward for all your loyal service to the Dark Lord?”

Draco raised his hand again, but didn't slap her. “Be careful little Weasley. You don't want to end up like Looney, do you?”

“You wouldn't dare.”

“You're right, I wouldn't,” he agreed smoothly. “But I wouldn't stop anyone else from doing whatever they fancied with you. But I didn't bring you in here to talk about who wants to do what to you. I have a few special assignments for you. You can't imagine how pleased I was when I found out you were here.”

Ginny wanted to break his neck, watching him stand in front of her so smugly. His heavy black robes pooled at his feet, making a severe contrast with his pale skin and hair. If he comes near me, she swore, I will fight him, no matter what the consequences are.

“Come here, little Weasley,” he commanded.

Ginny stayed still, staring at him with defiant eyes.

“Did you hear me? I don't repeat myself.”

“Go to hell.”

He began to laugh. “You are in hell little girl. And I'm the master of it.” He grabbed the front of her dirty robes and yanked her towards him. “I'm your master now. You do what I say.” With a lazy wave of his wand, he hissed, “Expelliarmus.”

Ginny didn't even have time to scream before she was thrown off her feet and smashed against a wall, the back of her head popping painfully as she did.

“Ready to obey me?”

“I hate you. I hate you. You're a disgusting prat and-”

“Expelliarmus!”

She shot up, and then sideways. Draco continued to flick his wand up and down and Ginny smashed helplessly into the wall over and over. When Draco finally stopped, Ginny couldn't move. Things in her body were broken, and she wasn't quite sure what to do. The pain was so intense, so excruciating, she almost couldn't comprehend it.

“What am I?” he asked, leaning down, his face only inches from hers.

She opened her mouth but no words came out; it was too painful to speak, too painful to breathe.

He shoved the tip of his wand into her neck. “Tell me what I am.”

“Master,” she made her lungs force the air out. “Master Malfoy.”

“That's right,” he whispered in her ear. “Heilario Tloxium.”

The pain rushed from Ginny's crumpled body, and as she gingerly flexed her wrist, she knew he had healed her.

He stared at her expectantly.

“Thank you, Master.” Ginny forced her gaze away from his laughing eyes and satisfied smirk.

“Now come,” he commanded, turning on his heel. “You won't be staying in the dungeons anymore.”

Ginny forced herself to her feet and followed him tentatively from the room. He may have healed her body, but her mind was still in shock. She followed him down several halls, and finally showed her to a large room, with wooden floors, long and narrow windows near the ceiling, a bed, chest of drawers, and a large polished desk.

“I have work to do,” he told her calmly, seating himself at the desk. “And my shoes need cleaned.”

She nodded carefully, unsure what was expected of her. “Do you have a rag?”

He let out a snort. “You'll be cleaning them with your tongue, little Weasley.”

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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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DISCLAIMER: This chapter contains some violence and other (insinuated) horrible acts. If this bothers you in any way, please don't read it. Instead, I'll be glad to summarize it for you. Ginny fights with herself about wanting to kill Draco, and is forced to watch while her brother is tortured. And just as these characters are not mine, neither is this story line (Ginny in prison under Draco). It comes from my favorite D/G story which I read and wanted to know more about.

THANKS: to all my beautiful and stunning reviewers! I hope this chapter explains Ginny's submissiveness a bit more.

Chapter 3 - Broken

When Ginny awoke, the room was nearly dark. The only light was a small flickering candle on the edge of Draco's desk. She sat up and glanced around, spotting Draco, asleep in his chair. Silently, she edged out of the bed and crept towards him. Maybe, if he had fallen asleep in his chair, his wand would still be in his pocket, and maybe, just maybe, if she was careful, she could retrieve it. Her blood pounded fiercely in her ears and against her eyes making her see red, a murderous, rage filled red that matched her hate for Draco Malfoy. Oh how she hated him; she hated him enough to kill him, and that was exactly what she planned on doing when she retrieved his wand. For two weeks he had forced her to do every disgusting chore imaginable, but yet, he hadn't touched her except earlier that day. He had forced her to watch the hideous, painfully torturous execution of Pansy Parkinson, to watch as Lavender Brown had Crucio put on her again and again, to watch as Luna was slapped and physically beaten, time and time again. She hated Draco Malfoy will every ounce of her being.

She crept across the floor, her bare feet not making a sound, and knelt in front of Draco. Slowly, carefully, she stretched her hand forward, keeping her eyes on his face. His arm was resting across the pocket of his robe, but she was certain if she could get her fingers there, she could get the wand. He's saving you, an unwelcome voice whispered in the back of Ginny's mind. You're alive only because of him. You haven't been touched, only because of him. You know the rumors about this prison camp, and yet, you seem unscathed. “I don't care,” Ginny though fiercely. “I want him dead.”

“What the bloody hell are you doing?” Draco hissed, his eyes flying open.

“I, I wanted to wake you, Master,” she whispered. “You should sleep in your bed.”

He grabbed her wrists and yanked her closer, his eyes digging into her flesh as she bowed her head.

“You shouldn't sleep in your chair,” she told him, her voice low with fear. Dear Merlin, she did not want to get hit again. It was nearly worth it to give in to him than to have such violent pain inflicted on her.

Draco shoved her away and stood up. “You are the one who should get some sleep, little Weasley. The morning will be here soon.”

Ginny watched him as he crossed the room. “What will happen tomorrow, Master?”

He ignored her and pulled a pillow and thin blanket off his bed. “Here.”

Ginny accepted them willingly, and wrapped herself at the end of his bed, dreading the morning.

The morning came all too soon, and with just a half piece of toast in her stomach, Ginny found herself being pushed down the corridor by Draco. He was silent, not even looking at her, and Ginny began to fear the worst. He pushed her into a small room with one tall table.

“This is for your own good,” Draco muttered, raising his wand. “Silencio.”

The door opened again, and in came Draco's father, using his wand to prod a masked prisoner. “Hello, little one,” he greeted her with a wicked smile. He shoved his prisoner into the room, where the he hit the table and fell backwards. “Restrain her,” he told his son.

Mr. Malfoy reached down and yanked the hood off his prisoner. “Say hello to your sister.”

“Ginny!” Percy's hands were tied behind his back, but he struggled to his feet. “You're alive. We thought, we thought you-”

“Cruccio!” Mr. Malfoy said fiercely.

Percy hit the floor and began screaming, his body thrashing in pain.

Ginny tried to scream, but no sound left her lips. She turned and hid her face in her hands, sobbing silently. She wanted to kill Draco and Lucius Malfoy. Without a doubt, she wanted them dead.

“Let her speak,” his father commanded with a tight smile. “See if she'll talk now.”

With a flick of his wand, the screams burst from her mouth. “Please stop! Don't do this to him! He's not part of the Order!”

“Where are they?” Draco demanded, grabbing her and forcing her to look at Percy's limp form. “Where?”

“I don't know,” she sobbed. “I would have told you if I did.”

“She's lying,” Lucius barked.

“I'm not,” she repeated, struggling to break free of Draco's grip. “I don't know!”

Furious, Lucius snapped his wand up and down, flinging Percy's limp body off the floor and slamming it back down. “If you are so worthless,” he hissed, “why are you still alive?”

Percy's arm lolled unnaturally beside his body and when he opened his mouth, a bloody moan gurgled out.

“Stop, please stop!” she began again, her stomach clenching tighter at the sight of her brother's mangled body. She couldn't bear to look at him anymore, and with no where to go, she turned and buried her face in Draco's chest, weeping and shaking uncontrollably.

Draco stood still, staring down at the top of her red head before shoving her away.

Lucius looked at her in disgust and motioned for Draco to follow him out of the room. Ginny dashed to her brother and cradled his head in her lap. “Percy? Answer me!”

“We thought you were dead,” he whispered, blood trickling from his mouth as he spoke. “We had found the bodies of everyone else who was with you that day, but not yours.”

Ginny flinched at his words. She had been with Colin, Zoë, Hannah, and several of her dearest friends from Hogwarts. “All of them?”

He nodded painfully. “I'm sorry. But you're okay.”

“Yeah,” she told him. “I don't have it so bad here. Mast-, I mean, Draco keeps me out of the dungeons and away from the other guards.”

“But what does he do to you?”

“Nothing, Percy. Nothing, I swear.” She leaned down to kiss his forehead, shocked at her own defense of Draco. It's true, a nasty voice in her head reminded you. You could be as dead as Pansy or as defiled as Luna, but you're not, are you?

“You have to get out,” Percy told her urgently. “You can't stay here. No one has gotten out of here alive.”

“I know,” she nodded. “I'll think of something.”

“You don't understand,” Percy began as the door flew open.

Draco grabbed her by the front of the dirty robe she was wearing and pushed her onto the table top. His father kicked Percy in the side and ordered, “Get up, boy.”

Percy slowly stood to his feet and stared him defiantly in the eyes. “Nothing you can do to me will make her talk. She doesn't know anything.”

“Then let's see if you'll talk,” Lucius hissed, nodding at Draco.

Draco flicked his wand and bound Percy's ankles. He pushed Ginny onto her back and slid her down until her legs hung off the table. “Is this what you want?” Draco growled at Percy, his face contorted with rage. “You want us to take your sister again and again until she cannot stand or sit or think?”

Ginny frantically sat up and reached out, slapping Draco on the face.

“Control her,” his father demanded through clenched teeth.

Draco grabbed her hand and shoved it into the front of his pants. “Tell your brother to talk.”

Ginny couldn't answer; her words and breath had stopped in her throat. Underneath her hand, the hard erection she had feared was not there.

Draco shoved her back down and reached his hand under the skirt of her robe. Her eye's widened in pain and she gasped in terror, but not because his hand entered her, but instead he had fiercely pinched her inner tight.

“Stop,” Percy screamed. “Stop it!”

Draco continued to pinch her again and again, his fist violently colliding with her soft flesh until she was sobbing openly on the table, her arms bound above her head.

“Now take her,” his father commanded loudly, over Percy's shouts and screams.

Draco glared down at the still crying Ginny and began to undo his trousers.

“Stop,” Percy begged again, breaking down. “I'll tell you what I know. I'll tell you.”

Draco froze halfway through undoing the front of his pants and stared at Percy, then his father.

“Go on boy, what are you waiting for,” Lucius raged. “Take what is yours!”

“No need, no need,” a voice sang out as the door opened and Draco's Aunt Bellatrix entered the room. “Very good work,” she announced, smiling down at Draco. “Now go take this little Weasley slut and celebrate your excellent contribution to our Dark Lord's efforts.”

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DISCLAIMER: As many of my fabulous reviewers have guessed, and I have mentioned in previous chapters, this story line is not mine. The plot of Ginny being under Draco in prison and the idea of licking someone's shoes belong to the super wonderful story �While You Were Sleeping� which you should read! I love it! However, you will be disappointed to note that it has not been updated in a long time!

THANKS: to all my beautiful, lovely, super fantastic reviewers! I hope this chapter is sufficiently long enough for y'all!

CHAPTER 4 - Change of Face

Draco was shaking with fury as he dragged Ginny down the hall. He knew now that he would never get out of this forsaken prison, not while the war was still going on. Now that the Weasley boy had been broken, he would get a word of insincere thanks, and nothing more. Draco threw the girl into his room and slammed to door behind him. She fell to the floor and didn't attempt to get up, her body rising and falling rapidly with sobs.

�Get up,� he roared. �Get up you filthy little mudblood loving bitch! You have work to do!�

Weeping, Ginny rose to her knees as Draco conjured a bucket of soapy water. He watched as she put great effort into making his floor clean, her small body quaking with silent sobs. His disappointment and disgust rose in him and for a moment, he wondered if he was going to throw up, but he swallowed hard and the feelings subsided. He was tired of being his father's sidekick; it was pathetic, really. His father expected him to grovel in his footsteps the way Wormtail did for the Dark Lord.

Draco rose and shut himself in his lavatory, turning on the water for the shower, and pulling off his robes, consciously aware of the still damp spot on the chest area, where Weasley had thrown herself into him, crying for her brother.

He felt no better when he was done showering, and paced the wooden floor wishing for the first time that he had no part in this war. The long hours spent learning of goblin wars and rebellions at Hogwarts had never included this side of war, the side that made people into things they weren't, made them do things they would never even dare think about.

�Malfoy?� a voice came from the other side of his door.

The door opened and Nott, one of the guards, stood in front of him. �You said to tell you if any of the prisoners died. One did this morning. Name's Brown. Lavender Brown.�

Ginny's hand slipped as she dipped her rag in the bucket and she left out a short cry, spilling the water across the floor. Nott's eyebrow shot up and he glanced at Draco expectantly, waiting for him to hand out the discipline he preached about so regularly.

Wordlessly, Draco yanked her up by her hair, slapping her face over and over and over.

�I'm sorry Master,� she whispered brokenly, as he dropped her back to the floor. �I'm sorry.�

Draco sucked in deep breaths of air. Control. You must have control. His father had told him that a thousand times, and he had never needed those words more than he did now. He was better than this. He didn't have to beat the Weasley girl to prove anything. He didn't have to rape her in front of his father and her brother. No. There were other ways; there had to be. The others could do what they wanted, but he refused to be like them. Malfoy's always got what they wanted, and without having to sink to the level of those around them. He wasn't going to starve and torture and abuse her. MacNair had enjoyed the abuse of the prisoners, breaking down their minds and body by depriving them of food and forcing them to bury, abuse, and torment their friends and family. No. This might be war, but he was determined to hold onto at least one shred of his humanity.

Nott watched Draco hit her with a smile on his face.

�Just get rid of the body,� Draco snapped, shutting the door. He watched as the Weasley girl tried to finish cleaning the floor, blood from her nose dripping onto it. His stomach was growing knotted, a tangled mess of confusion. �Scourgify,� he muttered, cleaning up the water and soap and blood. He didn't know what was wrong with him. The most peculiar sensation was washing over him, as if he had just lost something very great. The way she was crumpled against the floor bothered him; she looked like a broken china doll. He had to control himself, stop taking his rage and disappointment out on her. She was nothing. She wasn't even worthy of it, he tried to remind himself. He lowered himself until he knelt beside her, and slowly, carefully he reached out his hand to touch her, and offer her an apology or some sort of comfort or something, but before he could, a sharp knock at the door interrupted his thoughts.

�Enter,� he nearly screamed, jumping up and striding across the room.

The door swung wide, and before him stood a tall, slim attractive woman, long blond hair falling to her shoulders.

�Draco,� his mother began, and then stopped, spotting Ginny on the floor. �Who is she?�

�What are you doing here? Father told you to stay at the mansion,� he demanded sharply, fighting the humiliation that rose in him as his mother stared in disgust at the Weasley girl's broken form.

�It is lonely there,� she said simply. �All the help has left. So I came to see your father before he goes tonight, but he is . . . otherwise occupied.�

�He is dealing with our latest prisoner.�

�Dealing isn't quite the word I would use,� she said coldly.

Draco narrowed his eyes. Surely his mother did not mean what he thought she did. His father would never consort with a Mudblood lover. If he had said it once, he had said it a thousand times, that a Malfoy would never take up with anyone below their status. Besides, his father was married.

�Who is she?�

�My prisoner,� Draco answered defiantly.

�Is that the Weasley girl?�

He nodded curtly.

�What have you done to her?�

His mother's voice was so cold with fury Draco didn't recognize it.

�Surely, you are not bedding your prisoners too, are you?� she asked, her tone a fierce mixture of repulsion and obvious disappointment.

Draco turned on his heel and left the room. She had to be wrong. His father would never, ever do such a thing. He forced himself to walk calmly down the hall to the quarters his father used, even stopping to congratulate Blaise Zambini on catching three more suspected spies for Dumbledore, and when he reached the quarters, he quietly eased the door open. To his horror and disgust, he found his mother had been right.

Draco's insides burnt with fire at the wicked scene before him and he turned and left the room. He knelt in the hall vomiting over and over until there was nothing left. His father was a worthless, cheating liar. All the lectures about being pure and upholding the Malfoy bloodline meant absolutely nothing. The reminders that Malfoy's would never associated themselves in any way what so ever with Mudblood's or anyone beneath them, they were all a bunch of lies.

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Ginny tensed in fear as Draco's mother stepped closer to her. �Let me see you,� she commanded.

Slowly, agonizingly, Ginny pulled herself up. She hurt. She hurt too much to resist anymore. Even inside her head, where her thoughts had usually kept her sane, reminding her that sooner or later she would find a way to be rid of Draco, but they were no more. Give up, they told her. Give up and give in. You haven't been raped. You haven't been Crucio-ed. Give in. You have a better chance of living if you do.

Narcissa cupped her face with one hand and stroked her cheek with the other. All Ginny really knew of Draco's mother were the occasions glances at Platform 9

This is basically chapter 4 continued. Sorry guys, uploading problems!!!

Change of Face (continued)

Narcissa cupped her face with one hand and stroked her cheek with the other. All Ginny really knew of Draco's mother were the occasions glances at the Hogwarts Express train Platform and the Quidditch Championships she had went to before her 3^rd year.

“My son did this to you?” she asked, her voice tender and compassionate.

“It's not his fault,” Ginny whispered, fearful of saying anything that might enrage Draco even more. “He's just upset. I spilt the water.”

Narcissa's nostril's flared. “You are delirious.” She used her wand to mend Ginny's ankle, stop the blood still trickling from her nose, and give her an anti-pain charm. “Come here.” She led her into Draco's bathing chamber and turned on the water for the large tub. With a look of disgust she began to pull her soiled robes off.

“I can't,” Ginny begged. “Master will be angry with me.”

“Get in,” Draco's flat voice came from behind Ginny.

She turned, trembling, and saw him looking worn and unusually pale.

“Go on. Do it.” He motioned to the tub with his hand.

“Leave,” Narcissa commanded. “I will do this.” She threw Ginny's robes aside and suddenly stopped. “What are these?” Her eyes flew back to Draco's, narrow and fierce but he turned on his heel and left.

Ginny looked down and saw several small black bruises on her inner thighs, thick with dried blood. “He was helping me.”

Narcissa put her in the bath and gently began to scrub her hair. “Tell me how you got those.”

The warm water and anti-pain charm made Ginny so sleepy she could barely speak. “They, the others, they thought he was . . . they thought he was doing something else to me.” A fresh tear rolled down her cheek. “It was better than the alternative.”

Narcissa finished bathing her in silence, washing her dull hair and gently scrubbing her skin, changing the water several times, and then wrapped her in a thick towel and conjured a clean, soft dress robe for her.

That was when Ginny decided that she loved this woman. No matter what family she was from, Ginny loved her.

Narcissa helped her back into the room and looked at Draco. “I'm going to put her in the bed if that is alright by you, Master.” She spat the last word with such venom, Draco's face flushed. “Sleep child,” she told Ginny, kissing her forehead.

But Ginny couldn't sleep; she was too petrified about what Draco would do to her when his mother left.

“I want to take her with me,” Narcissa said. “The manor is lonely and I could use the company.”

“No,” Draco refused. “She is a prisoner, and she will stay here.”

Ginny's sudden hope died in her chest, but she opened her mouth to speak anyways. “Take Luna, then.”

“What?” Both mother and son stared at her.

“Take Luna. Let her take Luna, and erase her memory,” Ginny requested quietly. “She needs it more than I do.”

Draco gave her a long, hard stare and she began to fear reprimand, but he finally nodded to his mother. “Very well. We can go get Longbottom's wife to accompany you.”

When Draco returned he was alone. Ginny watched him as he crossed the room and then sat on the edge of the bed.

“I will move,” she whispered hoarsely.

“No,” he shook his head. “Stay there.”

“Are you alright?” she dared to ask after a long silence.

He sat still for several moments, and then slid off the bed, kneeling at its side. “My mother was right. My father was with one of the prisoners.” His voice broke and he buried his face. “How could he?”

Ginny didn't want to feel any sympathy at all for him. None. She wanted him dead this morning. But now, he seemed so wretched and broken, she couldn't stop herself as she reached out to pat his arm. Here was Draco Malfoy, her tormentor at Hogwarts, the head of the Wizarding world's worst prison, the person who forced her to lick his shoes, the person who had hit her and kicked her, kneeling before her. “You should sleep,” she told him, rising from his bed.

“No,” he whispered. “Stay there. You sleep there.”

Ginny sat silently, watching his trembling body. “You . . . sleep here . . . too.”

When Ginny woke in the morning, Draco was still sleeping beside her. Automatically, she glanced up at the windows, and decided that by the feeble rays of sun, it was still very early. Draco had not attempted to touch her once during the night. Instead, he had lain in the bed, never crying, (Malfoy's, she was sure, never cried) but shaking with despair, and it was Ginny who reached out to comfort him.

In the light of the early morning though, she worried about Percy again. She said a silent prayer, hoping that he was still alive. She would have to beg Draco to look after him, to take him food or potions or whatever he needed; whatever it took, she would ask him to help her with this. Sadly, she recalled the oath she had taken when she was sworn into the Order. She had vowed to always put the safety of the Order first. Well, she wasn't telling, and she had to keep Percy strong so that he wouldn't either. That was her first duty. The Order.

When Draco woke, he didn't speak to her. He climbed out of the bed, went to his shower, dressed, and left the room in silence. Her heart dipped lower in her chest, still clinging to the tiny remaining hope that he might do her the one last favor.

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DISCLAIMERS: this story line (Draco as prison guard, Ginny as prisoner) isn't mine. It comes from “While You Were Sleeping” which is a GREAT story, and that's why I wrote this.

THANKS: and much love to all my absolutely stunning reviewers, including LADY OF SLYTHERIN who is quoted/paraphrased in this chapter, when Draco gets confused trying to figure out to whom or where his loyalties lie.

CHAPTER 6 - Desperate Times . . .

When Draco returned to the room that afternoon, he sat down at his desk and began to pour over a large scroll, still ignoring Ginny. His face still burned with the anger and disappointment from the day before, and she couldn't work up the courage to ask him to help her brother. Ginny had bitten her fingernails to the quick, worrying about Percy, wondering if her plan was really the best way to go about helping him.

The days dragged like years, and it seemed that each day, the death of another one of her friends and former classmates was reported. Seamus, Padma, Dennis Creevey, Sally-Anne Perks, Morag MacDougal, Lee Jordan's mother, Emma Dobbs and her grandfather, the list didn't stop. Ginny finally forced herself to stop listening, plugging her ears and humming each time a knock sounded on Draco's door.

“You can't stand it anymore, little Weasley?” Draco asked her one afternoon, after another knock reached his door.

She shook her head. “I don't want to know.”

“I thought that's what you Gryffindor's did,” he smirked. “I thought you spent all your time caring about your friends.”

“I do care about them,” she said quietly. “But I can't stop their deaths from in here, can I?”

Draco's eyes narrowed. “So you want to go back to the dungeon?”

“No, no,” she said quickly. “I don't. I couldn't do anything about it from their either.”

He watched her for a moment and then turned, sitting at his desk. “Then don't complain.”

I wasn't, she wanted to tell him as she watched him out of the corner of her eye while she finished cleaning his boots, this time with a rag.

“Master,” she said hoarsely, kneeling in front of him.

“What?” he snapped, after several long, silent seconds.

“I wanted to make one small request of you,” she told him, her head hanging low. He stayed silent, so she pressed on. “My brother, I was wondering about him, if you could check on him. Make sure he is alright.”

“You mean, if he is alive?” he asked maliciously.

“Yes,” she whispered, staring at the floor, her stomach churning with fear.

“I don't think so. I have enough to do without running around to check on your little friends.”

“He is my brother, Master.”

Draco stared at the top of her head, considering. “No.”

“Please, I am prepared to do anything you ask of me. Just grant me this one small thing.” Tears formed in her eyes as she reached for his trousers, her fingers trembling and fumbling as she undid the button and zipper of his trousers.

“What in the bloody hell are you doing?” he demanded as her face disappeared into his lap.

***

Draco froze as her warm, velvety mouth tried to take in his sudden erection. On instinct, he felt his fingers snake their way through her hair, and then “No!”

Draco jumped out of his seat and shoved her away. The ache in his groin intensified as he zipped his trousers, forcing himself to think of anything, but Ginny Weasley's mouth wrapped around him. He took a deep breath, and then allowed his eyes to travel to the Weasley girl, and there she was, tears silently rolling off her face, still knelt before him.

“Take me,” she whispered finally. “But please, not my brother.”

Draco observed her with contempt.

“What I don't understand,” he said finally, fastening his trousers, “is why you would lower yourself to the level of a common whore for your brother.”

He tried to feel some sense of satisfaction as she cried harder, but instead he felt a sharp twist of knife like pain in his stomach, a sensation that was becoming all too familiar.

“Why would you do that?” he questioned, standing up and circling her. “Why?” Part of him wanted to reach down and shake her until her teeth rattled, but the other part wanted to reassure her that he would never, ever ask her to do anything like that.

“Stop crying and answer me! What in the bloody hell would make you think I want that from you? Don't you think if I wanted you just for a shag I would have taken it long ago? Answer me!”

“Please don't hit me Master. I just want to help him. I love him,” she wept.

Draco watched her closely. He didn't believe her. “And Lovegood? What about her?”

“She is my friend. She would do the same for me.”

A feeling not unlike jealousy overtook him. His friends, if he could call them that, they would never do such a thing for him. They would not risk themselves to help another. And neither would I, he realized shallowly.

“Stand up!” he demanded, sharply.

He watched as the sobbing girl struggled to her feet, and stood in front of him, her head bowed and her form looking broken.

“I am never going to ask you for that,” he hissed, his hands grasping her shoulders and shaking her lightly. “Never. I am not like the rest of these fools here. Don't ever do that again.”

“I'm sorry, I just thought . . .”
“You thought I was just like them.”

“No,” she shook her head.

“Why?” he demanded. “Did I ever fuck you? I could, if I'd wanted. There were plenty of chances.”

“I don't know!” she cried harder. “I just wanted to help Percy!”

Draco turned his back on her in disgust and drew in a deep breath. He didn't understand what was going on inside of him. His entire life, he'd been trained to serve the Dark Lord, serve him only. That Mudbloods and Mudblood lovers were equally abhor able, and yet, this crying red headed girl in front of him did something to him, something he didn't quite understand. For as long as he could recall, his father raised him with his loyalties being devoted to only one thing. But now, now his father was a liar, a cheater, now when he looked at the Weasley girl his stomach twisted in an unfamiliar, but pleasant way. Maybe I'm going insane, he thought bitterly.

Draco didn't understand how she could give herself up so willingly just to save someone else. He wouldn't do it, and he didn't know anyone who would do it for him. But then, he wondered, where did his loyalties lie? Not with his father anymore. And, when he thought about it, he wasn't so sure they still lied with the Dark Lord.

Slowly he turned around and found her still standing in the same spot, watching him. Without thinking, he stepped forward and put his arms around her, pulling her into a fierce hug and taking himself by surprise. “I'll make-”

“Malfoy! Malfoy!” An insistent pounding at his door cut his words short.

He let go of Ginny and she wiped her tears off her face as he strode across the room and threw the door open.

There stood Nott and Goyle, with Peter Pettigrew panting to catch up.

“What?” Draco demanded.

“It's not good,” Goyle began.

“Not at all,” Nott interrupted.

“Your father,” Pettigrew gasped. “Your father. They found him this morning.”

“What?” Draco hissed.

“They went into Hogsmead, we heard that some of the Order was hiding there, and things went wrong. Everything went wrong,” Pettigrew continued.

“He's gone,” Goyle finished.

Ginny scrambled out of his way as Draco marched across the room. He pulled on his cloak and took his hooded mask. “I don't believe you,” he hissed, following the Death Eaters out of the room.

She crawled into Draco's chair and slumped over, ready to let herself finish crying, but no tears came. Now, now that it was all over, she realized how foolish her big plan was. He was right. If he had wanted that from her, he could have taken it at any time. She searched for the rage inside, the anger that fueled her days and kept her going, but instead, she felt a lonely aching in her chest, and unwillingly pitied Draco, praying she never had to be told that her own father was gone. Her stubborn red headed genes fought against her growing sympathy, wanting to kill Malfoy for keeping her locked away, but the broken, prisoner Ginny reminded her of what he was saving her from. Besides, her mind was still reeling, trying to discern why in Merlin's name Draco Malfoy had hugged her. He had been more protective of her lately, sure, but physical contact? Willing physical contact? It just didn't make sense.

Four days ago, Draco had taken her to the kitchen, informing her that the prisoner who had been cooking was unavailable, so if she wanted to eat, she had better cook. “We'll find a suitable cook soon, but for right now, you'll have to do it,” he had told her.

She knew better than to ask who it was, because she was sure they had died an unnatural death.

The walk to the kitchen was the first time in weeks that Ginny had left his room. The last time she had left it, she had been forced to watch Percy's torture. The halls were dark and depressing, and the air was punctuated occasionally by a muffled scream or cry, and once, a laugh.

“I'm not going to poison you,” Ginny told Draco with a forced smile as he hovered next to her while she clumsily peeled potatoes.

“It's not you I'm worried about,” he snapped, stepping closer.

She figured out what he meant when three other Death Eaters entered the kitchen, two men Ginny didn't know, and Marcus Flint. Ginny didn't know much about Flint, he had been in his seventh year when she was in her first year, but she could see that time had changed him none. They watched her with interest in their eyes, laughing and making gestures Ginny tried to ignore.

“Why haven't I seen you in the dungeons?” Flint finally asked her.

She remained silent, and Draco snapped “Maybe you should get your eyes checked” except he said it with a few words so colorful, Ginny could barely dare to think them.

Flint shook his head obstinately. “I would have noticed that red hair. I would have checked to see if it went all the way down.”

The other men laughed, and Draco let out a snort that sounded more like he was choking than laughing. Ginny shuttered inside her robes and silently thanked Draco.

“I'll be looking for you tonight,” Flint told her, licking his lips when she left.

Now, Ginny was stuck again. She had only formulated one plan to help her brother and it failed her. She didn't know what else to do. She was hungry again, but there was no food, so she lowered her body from the chair and went to her now familiar spot on the floor by Draco's bed, curled up under the thin blanket and slept.

When she awoke, Draco was sitting in his chair. She watched him noiselessly, waiting for a sign of what he had discovered

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Sorry this isn't an update guys, I'm not trying to tease you. I just wanted to give yall some good news. I've FINALLY found burgosdamasco (author of While You Were Sleeping) and I'm waiting to hear back from her. I thought it would be a good idea to make sure she didn't mind that I used her plot (Draco as prison guard, and Ginny as a prisoner) because it says in her live journal that she is going to update soon. I hope so, as many of you agree, that is one of my favorite D/G stories!!!! So, there will be more updates soon. Love yall!

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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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The title comes from a song by Big Head Todd & the Monsters. It's so good. Download it if you get the chance!

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.

Broken Hearted Savior

When Ginny woke, she was in a familiar bed. Draco's bed. Slowly, she opened her eyes, glancing around and found that Draco was sitting in a chair right next to her.

“How do you feel?” he asked, his eyes dark with sleepless circles.

“Scared. Tired.”

“Can you tell me what happened?”

Ginny was silent for several moments, and then relayed her story, telling him what Flint had told her he was going to do. “I wanted to die,” she whispered. “I really, really did. I tried to use his wand to do it to myself but you never took that silencing spell off me.”

Draco bowed his head and covered his face with his hands.

“Why did you make me go back there?” she asked finally.

“Flint,” he admitted his voice so low she could barely hear. “He kept asking about you, saying he'd been looking for you. After a while he came right out and asked if I was keeping you in here, which I don't permit them to do. So I told him that the Dark Lord needed you and you were not to be touched. Finally I told him you died. But he kept on. It was . . . stupid.” He jumped up and screamed, “Damn! Damn it!” With his fist he punched the stone wall, cursing and screaming, until he was exhausted and dropped back into the chair, panting.

Ginny watched as his flushed skin slowly returned to its pale state and as his breathing returned to normal.

“Thank you,” she whispered finally.

“For what?” he demanded hotly, standing up. “This wouldn't have happened if I hadn't made you go back there.”

“That doesn't matter. Thank you for saving me.”

“You can't stay here.” He looked away.

Ginny sucked in a deep breath. “Then kill me. Don't make me go back there. Just kill me.”

“No.”

“I can't,” she told him, her voice rising. “I can't go back there! I won't! I'll kill myself!”

“You'll go somewhere else. Somewhere safe.”

She stared at him, her mind slowly processing his words. “Like Luna?”

“Like Luna,” he said firmly.

“Why did you stop him?” she asked timidly.

“I couldn't let him.” He paused. “I knew something was going on. He was so pleased with himself. So I went to check on you, and you weren't there. I knew.”

Ginny nodded.

“You'll stay in here until I can arrange a place for you,” he said, standing, his voice once again firm and formal.

For days Ginny stayed in Draco's bed, thanking every powerful witch, wizard, god, goddess, and sorcerer she could think of that Draco had for whatever reason, saved her from Marcus Flint. Each time she saw Draco, the strange bubbling in her chest and stomach increased, until she looked forward to the evenings when he returned to his room.

“Aren't you hungry?” Ginny asked him one evening, as she watched him stare blankly at his plate.

Draco looked at her with heavy eyes and pulled her by the wrist until she was in his lap. “He's coming.”

“Who?” she asked, trying not to squirm uncomfortably.

“The Dark Lord,” Draco told her slowly, “he's a bit . . . upset. The guards here, they have done nothing to help him with the war. They just bed the prisoners and torture them. They're having too much fun. And with Flint's mysterious death, and all.”

Ginny watched him in fearful silence, wondering what the Dark Lord was going to do. “Then where am I going?”

He stayed silent, lifting his hand and using his index finger to trace the thin scar above the left side of her lip, the scar Draco had put there with his boot.

Ginny's insides tumbled in confusion. For the past few weeks, Draco had been almost kind to her. They'd even sat and talked and laughed, as if they were old friends, instead of Draco being the head of the most atrocious prisoner of war camp and she being a captive there.

“My father would have never let this happen. I can't even control those idiots.”

“You and your father had different ways of managing situations. I think I prefer your way.”

“My father's way would have got me a promotion; it would have got me out of here.”

“I think self respect is a bit important too,” she told him, her voice a bit more sarcastic than she meant.

His fingers left the scar on her lip and began to trace the curve of her neck. They sat in deafening silence until Draco began to do the top buttons of her work robe. “Tell me to stop,” he whispered.

But Ginny stayed silent, letting him undo her robes, and then sucking in a shallow breath as his fingers crept underneath and made contact with her pale skin. She could feel each panicked beat of her heart as it banged against her ribcage, and could feel her brain, as it stopped sending out alarms and gave into the tinglings that were shooting through her nerves.

“Tell me,” Draco's warm breath sounded in her ear. “Make me stop.”

Ginny didn't, and when Draco's lips wrapped themselves around her ear, she pulled him closer. Her breath came out in a moan as his fingertips moved across the sensitive skin of her breasts, exploring each one, his lips moving down to graze her nipples. Gently, he lifted her and carried her to the bed, slipping her robe off and leaving her completely naked. His lips and fingertips rubbed over ever inch of her skin until she could stand it no more and tugged him out of his robes.

The warmth of his skin against hers made her flesh tingle and she arched her back beneath him as he slid one finger in between her legs, and then another.

Draco let his fingers glide slowly in and out, his lips still grazing her nipples, and when she could resist no longer, she adjusted her body until his was firmly between her legs, and sucked in a deep breath of air as he began to push inside of her.

Pain overtook her as he did, and Ginny let a muffled groan escape her lips.

Draco's eyes widened as he stared at her, and suddenly, he pulled himself out. “No. Why didn't you tell me?”

“What?” she asked, already knowing the answer.

“That this is your first time,” he demanded.

“It doesn't matter,” she whispered, pulling him back to her. “I want it to be you.”

“I can't take that.”

“I'm giving it to you,” she insisted, sloppily guiding him back in between her legs. “You're not taking anything.”

Slowly, carefully, Draco pushed back inside Ginny, and then waited until she adjusted before raising his hips and lowering them again.

“Are you okay?” Draco whispered.

Ginny nodded, even though she felt as if she was being ripped apart. “Don't stop.”

“I don't want to hurt you.”

“Just go slow.”

She let a sigh of pleasure escape her lips before kissing his forehead. Draco rose carefully, up and down, until they had a rhythm and within minutes, she felt him begin to pump faster, harder, quicker, until he let out a moan and collapsed against her.

After several minutes, he covered her face with kisses, and as Ginny drifted to sleep, she felt his arm wrapped securely around her.

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This is really short, I know, I know. Don't worry. More is coming……

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

Nothing Good in Goodbye

They spent the next few nights exploring each other under the cover of darkness, Ginny giving into the pleasure of being touched and cared for by another person, something she hadn't experienced in months and months. During the day, Ginny noticed that Draco ate nearly as little as she did and was in a foul mood, screaming orders at the other guards and prisoners, but at night, when they were alone, he was someone she cared about, someone sweet and gentle, someone she wanted to love.

“It's time,” Draco told her the following week, entering his room swiftly. “You have to go.”

Ginny's eyes widened. “Not to the dungeons.”

He shook his head. “No, I told you. I'm taking you somewhere else.”

She desperately wanted to ask where, and what was going on, but held her tongue, fearful of his answer; in her heart she knew the Dark Lord was coming and the end results wouldn't be good. Instead, she asked, “What about Percy? Will you still take care of him?”

Draco nodded sharply. “You may go tell him goodbye.”

She didn't even have time to dust off her robes, before Draco was marching her down the dim hallway. Screams and cries reached her ears, and the lower they went into the prison, the worse it got.

Finally, he stopped in front of a heavy iron door, used his wand to unlock it, and led her in. Draco whispered, “Lumos,” and with the light from his wand, checked the room. “Alright, go,” he snapped, pushing her towards a corner.

She stumbled blindly in the dark. “Percy? Percy?”

“Ginny?”

She knelt and fumbled for her brother.

“I thought you were dead!” he whispered, holding her.

“No, I'm fine,” she tried to assure him, grasping him tightly. “What about you?”

“I'm well,” he admitted. “One of the Death Eaters brings us food and medicines quite often.”

“It's Draco. Draco Malfoy,” Ginny nodded, feeling him tense at her words. “I asked him to look after you.”

“Why would he care what you ask?” Percy demanded, his voice venomous.

“He didn't hurt me,” Ginny told a slight lie. “He wasn't doing what you thought he was that day. He's never done anything like that to me.” She could tell Percy didn't believe her, and she felt a great need to make him believe her words. “He was pinching me. Really. He's taken care of me. He's kept me in his room so none of the other Death Eaters would come near me, but he hasn't hurt me Percy.”

“Then why are you down here again?”

“I'm leaving. He said it wasn't safe for me anymore, so he's taking me somewhere.”

“Where?”
“I don't know,” she admitted. “But I'm sure it will be safe.”

“No, Ginny! You can't go with him!” Percy hissed in her ear.

“I trust him,” she confessed, unsure why she did. “I do.”

“Time to go,” Draco's low voice broke their words.

“I'm not letting you go,” Percy tried to grasp her arm tighter as she was pulled away.

“I'll be fine, Percy,” she called to him. “And so will you, I promise. I love you!”

Draco tugged her towards the entrance and then into the hall. “Hold this,” he demanded, shoving a candleholder at her.

The moment she grasped it, she felt a hook like sensation in her belly, tugging her forward and around and around. Just when she thought she couldn't stand it anymore, she clattered to the ground, landing on top of Draco.

“There you are,” a familiar voice exclaimed.

Ginny slowly stood and Draco scrambled up beside her. She was in a large room with life size portraits of elegant looking witches and wizards observing them as they untangled themselves from the floor, expensive furniture, and thick heavy drapes on the windows. Narcissa pulled Draco into a hug.

“I was getting worried,” she told them.

Draco nodded tersely. “I have to get back. The Dark Lord will be arriving soon.” Then he turned to Ginny. “I don't know if I will see you again, but whether I do or don't, I want you to know that I am so sorry for what I have done to you. Maybe one day you can forgive me.” He leaned forward and planted a quick kiss on her lips. “I am sorry, Ginny.”

Ginny's hand rose to the spot his lips had been, unable to comprehend what had just happened. Not once, not even in the most recent weeks had he kissed her mouth or called her by her first name.

Draco picked up the candleholder and began to tap it with his wand. “Port-”

“Wait!” Ginny interrupted. “Wait.” She stepped ahead and stood directly in front of him. “I already forgave you.”

Draco just nodded at her.

Ginny's mind spun as several realizations hit her at once, the first being that she might never see him again. She wrapped her arms around him and held as tightly as she could until she felt him do the same. “You have to come back,” she whispered to him finally. “I'll be waiting for you.”

Draco nodded again, and something resembling a smile touched the corners of his lips. “Portus.” Then he was gone.

Really short chapter, I know, I know. Don't worry, more is coming!!!!! Hey! Just so y'all know, it's going to be under a different title. This story, I have decided is long enough. Email me at draco_ginny_ship@yahoo.com and just put “add me” in the subject line & I'll try to alert you when the next one comes out cause I haven't named it yet!

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Just a quick note, sorry if this costs anyone points. The sequel to this story is up AND finished *does happy dance*. It's called Starting Over. Thanks so much to everyone who reviews and who has sent me great emails & LJ responses about it.

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