Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Harry Potter characters-they belong to JK Rowlings
A/n: I started this months ago and now I've gotten back to it. I'm revamping the chapters I have and reposting so if you read this the first time around…well things are changing.
Chapter one: Ginny-Don't Speak
Don't speak. Be patient. Your physical strength may fade but your mind will prevail. It was her mantra, the sliver of hope she avidly clung to. Ginevra Weasley curled up in a ball, attempting to fade into the scenery of her prison, and repeated this mantra. The walls were solid stone, every inch coated with dust. Once it had been an abandoned classroom, but currently presided as a temporary bastille. A combination of sweaty bodies, excrement, and vomit permeated throughout the small room, courtesy of the unattended chamber pot located in the corner.
"How can you leave this filthy bucket in here after it's been used? It is inhumane!" A pretentious Ravenclaw third year screamed at their captors', the first day, concerning the neglected faux latrine. His puerile actions cost him dearly; two hulking guards dragged him away soon after his complaint was made. Ginny, and her fellow prisoners, were never to see the boy again. In the days that followed no one complained and rarely did words penetrate the dingy, makeshift cell. Despite the undeniable obedience and silence, the guards still brought upon the disappearance of prisoners. One by one they were taken, and soon came to be a calendar, of sorts.
Fear seeps through these walls, thought Ginny. It was true; paranoia prevailed in the dimly lit room. The younger girls all huddled together in a corner, screeching at any sound or movement. They had every reason to be afraid, Ginny was also fearful or what was to come, but she held fast and never let her expression read anything beyond calm. If I break and let fear rule me, then the death eaters have truly broken me.
To keep her stoic attitude, Ginny would study everything around her, most often the students. She would sit and study the boys and girls around her; they varied in ages, gender, race, and house. No common link presented itself; the only consistency was the fact that only boys were being taken. The last of the males was retrieved this morning, a small first year boy, not even 12. Now, with only girls were left, Ginny worried over their fate. They've stormed our castle, slain our men, and… The thought was too awful. Ginny pushed back the bile rising in her throat; she knew what happened to the women after a raid, and death eaters were never accused of being too moral. These are not women, but little girls.
Looking at the terrified faces around her, Ginny pondered how she came to be in such a predicament.
An incessant dripping sound invaded her ears, annoying Ginny immensely. She was making sweeps of the east and north wings of the castle, an hour's worth of patrolling. The whole evening was miserable, she had yet to bust anyone for breaking curfew, her partner had skived off in order to study for an exam the next morning, and Mrs. Norris kept popping up. Overall it was a dull and irritating night.
As the little hand languorously edged its way to strike midnight, Ginny was over come with relief. Soon she could trudge up to Grffyndor tower and snuggle beneath her covers, reaching a deep sleep. Tomorrow was Saturday, which meant no classes, which meant sleeping in and knicking food from the kitchens later. The clock chimed midnight, signifying the end of her nightly rounds and the beginning of the raids.
The sound of various footsteps pounded towards her invaded Ginny's ears. Unsure of who or what was coming down the halls, she nestled herself behind a statue of Salazar Slytherin. A few moments of patience revealed the source of commotion.
Death eaters were slipping out the darkness, white masks gleaming in the torchlight. They spoke no words and seemed to be communicating with hand gestures. They split into groups; ten headed up the steps towards Gryffindor tower, two remained at the bottom of the steps. `To make sure no one escapes'.
Panicking was seeping its way through her body, but she remained silent. Once she was sure that the ten death eaters were all up stairs she poised herself to strike. Before the hex's name left her lips, a rough hand grabbed the scruff of her robes. Losing her balance and orientation caused her to lose the hold on her wand. The slender wooden object clattered on the floor and soon four death eaters surrounded her. `Fuck.'
Her captors ignored her struggle merely deflecting any kick or punch aimed at them. They hauled her down the corridor, two of them holding her with the third leading the way. Once they reached the dungeons the leader stopped them in front of the potions room. `Alohomora'. The door opened, as expected, and she was thrust inside. Shrouded in darkness she waited and as time trickled by more captives trickled into her prison.
The door creaked open and Ginny was startled from her reverie. Four guards clambered into the room, hollering at the girls to form a line. They were slowly shuffled out of the room, being herding to the Gods knew where. Reaching the entryway, Ginny found her path barred; one of the guards gruffly informed her that she wasn't leaving yet. They must have realized who I am. Certainly I'll be questioned…that means all isn't lost. If they are questioning me Harry hasn't been caught! The order still lives! The thought gave her a moment of joy, until she remembered that most death eater interrogations included torture. I'll not break. I can sing a song of silence…they'll never, ever break me. Resigned to her fate, Ginny returned to the fetal position she had held only 20 minutes earlier.
Another creak resounded in the small room signifying the entrance of another. Ginny lifted her head slightly to see who would be conducting her torture session. Before stood a man-No, a boy- whose presence was familiar, but extremely unsettling. Each step he took towards her was another step closer to the truth, to her fate.
"Well, well, if it isn't little Ginny Weasley. Surprised that they caught you so easily." Taunted a sneering Michael Corner. Traitorous bastard! Ginny had dated Michael when she was 14; he was her first boyfriend and the worst of the whole lot. When they broke up she told everyone it was over Quidditch-but really it was over a much different game. Michael was ready to go all the way, but Ginny was not. After confiding to Michael that she wasn't ready, he broke up with her in order to find `more pleasurable company'. That was fine, she really didn't want to deal with a boyfriend who cared only about sex. She had seen a spark of evil in him back then, writing it off as hormones-now she didn't think hormones were the source of evil.
"You know, sweetheart, if you hadn't been such a prude back then…well, lets just say you would be in more comfortable accommodations." He drawled, motioning with his head towards his lap. At least if I was there I could castrate him.
He kept staring at her, obviously waiting for her to respond to his taunting. Well, Ginny wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of seeing her squirm. A mask of aloofness came over her as she sat quietly staring at nothing. It was arduous task, for every bone in her body screamed to curse and spit on him. He was filth and, oh, how she wanted to make him bleed, but her mind told her to stay silent. Never let the enemy know who you really are. If you fight now, they'll expect it later.
This containment was only the tip of the iceberg; she was sure that more pain and suffering was to come her way.
Michael sauntered towards her slowly, each step pronounced by the clacking of his expensive shoes. One, two, three, four…He stopped in front of her. Five, six, seven, eight, nine…Warm, foul breath brushing against her cheek. 10,11,12,13,14…
"No strong words, Gin? No smart arsed comment?" he whispered in her ear.
15,16,17,18,19, 20…
"I'm speaking to you, Virginia!" He yelled, grasping her chin and forcing her to face him. Hmm, whole year of dating and he never knew my full name. He looked furious; apparently Michael didn't like being ignored. 21, 22, 23, 24… He slapped her hard across the face, the impact forcing her head to turn slightly; a bruise would be forming there. "You don't want to fight, well fine! Will make this all the easier!" He stepped back from her, and though aware of his movements she continued to count the stones.
"Hey, Cobble, get in here!" he screamed through the door. Cobble came lumbering into the room. It was the fat guard who had kicked the bucket over.
"What do you want?" Cobble grumbled irritably.
"Keep a look out for that bastard. I want to have a little fun with this one." Michael said, looking straight at Ginny, lust in his eyes. Fuck! If this Cobble decided to let him have his way there would be no escape.
"He gave orders; no rape." Cobble said. Thank Merlin!
"Does he have the Dark Mark? No, he bloody skirted his way around that one now didn't he! Hell, he didn't even get involved with our efforts until after we won!" Michael yelled, obviously displeased with Cobbles response. "That bastard has no authority as far as I'm concerned. Now watch for me, because whether you approve or not, I'm fucking the bitch!" Oh fuck!
Michael shrugged off his robe, leaving him in a pair of trousers and a white shirt. The shirt sleeves were rolled up past his elbows and the dark mark glared from his forearm. As hideous and as black as his heart. He started towards her again, and Ginny scrambled backward until she met the wall. "Oh, so the bitch does seem to be able to react to something." Michael laughed as though the entire situation was absolutely wonderful. She felt his fingers grasp around her arms, hauling her to her feet. He pushed her violently and she collided with the wall.
"This going to be fun, Ginny girl." He hissed into her ear. Ginny closed her eyes; she felt a tear trickle down her cheek. There was nothing she could do to stop what was about to happen, but if she didn't move, he wouldn't enjoy it as much. Don't say anything, be numb, be aloof.. He started to grab at her robe, attempting to drag it off her body. Athena, Aphrodite, Minerva…please for the love of Goddess help me be strong. Ginny just kept running prayers through her head, hoping that someone would save her before he finally got her robe off. The rough hands were trying to pry apart her clenched thighs. Never submit, never surrender.
All of a sudden the weight of his body was gone, but she didn't dare open her eyes. Don't speak, don't say a word. Slumping to the ground, Ginny leaned against the wall, never opening her eyes.
"Thought I said no rape!" a new voice yelled. It was strangely familiar, but Ginny couldn't place it. The owner of the voice sounded angry, no not angry, pissed beyond the seven hells was more accurate.
"I don't care! This one is a personal vendetta!" Michael yelled in response.
"I don't give a flying fuck! Not only did you disobey my order, you also disobeyed the dark lord's! He said to leave the pureblooded women alone! There are few enough purebloods in the world, pure females even less so."
"She's a dirty, ugly, Weasley! Even as a pureblood she's lower than trash!"
"Shut your trap! Despite them fighting for the wrong side the Weasleys have the purest blood in the world! As for being lower than trash…well what does that say about those who rape garbage?" Ginny listened to each word carefully, not daring to open her eyes. Apparently she wasn't going to die or be raped, at least not today. She couldn't fathom what they were going to use her for, but she thanked the gods for her savior, even if he was death eater scum.
"Sorry, Corner, but you know the punishment for disobeying orders." The voice said, sounding anything but sorry.
"You…you've got to be joking!" Michael stammered out. His voice was filled with fear, and Ginny reveled in it.
"No joke, Corner. Disobedience of this caliber…tut, tut." The voice said, and Ginny heard a clinking sound slipping against cloth. There was a rustle of clothing and then frantic footsteps. Ginny opened her eyes at the exact moment that the blade sliced through Michael Corner's torso and blood sprayed across her face. She felt her stomach drop at the sight of spilling intestines and gushes of blood. Attempting to regain her footing, Ginny was hit with a bout of nausea.
The floor was rushing towards her, but then strong arms wrapped around her waist. She could feel herself being lifted up and then…the last thing she remembered before blacking out was silver eyes and the scent of pine trees and earth.
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