There was black hair plastered to her face; sweat slicked her body. She believed some of the moist liquid coverage her skin was blood. She let out a cackling laugh, her head light and airy. They couldn't break her, no matter how hard they tried. Her face was dirty and a bright red scar marred her cheek.

The creak of a door alerted her to the person that approached. She didn't raise her eyes; her focus trained on her hands. The footsteps became louder and louder until they stopped in front of her. She chuckled and she could feel the air grow colder at the presence of the man near her. For a few moments, there was no sound but their combined breathing. Then his voice echoed around the small cell, "Have you made your decision?"

There was no response from the dirty prisoner at his feet. The two people were as opposite as anyone could be: the man was pale, tall, and had hair as white as snow and the woman was petite and raven haired. However, the man's snow white features were marred by his dark heart. He watched her then took a small step forward, squatting so he was closer to her face. He raised his hand and grabbed her hair tightly in his hand, jerking her head back so she looked at him. A smile spread across her face at the slight tug of pain, then she chuckled.

"You look like an angel," she whispered airily, licking her dry lips. She hadn't spoken in days since she had been left alone—they had hoped the loneliness would break her spirit. The man looked at her in disgust then grunted, standing. He looked at his hand then gently wiped it on his crisp vest before he pulled a long stick out of the cane by his side. He pointed it at her and then swished it lightly towards her.

The scream that erupted from the woman echoed around the small room. Her body seized and she fell to the side slightly. As the scream subsided, they were replaced by soft whimpers. The man looked down at her, his eyes filled with joy at the pain he had inflicted. His voice rang out again, this time holding warning of what would happen next, "Have you made your decision, traitor?"

There was the rustle of movement and then the woman raised her eyes to his. Her voiced rasped as she answered, "Yes. I-I'll do it." Her voiced cracked slightly and the man took a step forward in anticipation. If he could just do this, if he could just get her to talk, he would be most esteemed in his Dark Lord's eyes…

His hopes were dashed, however, as the woman gave the conditions on her betrayal, "On one condition." The man nodded, listening. He wouldn't follow it, most likely, but he would trick her into telling him any information if he could. "I will only speak to him."

Their eyes met and both knew exactly who she was talking about. He hesitated; could he really do this? If she didn't speak, he would be in a world of trouble, but if she did, he would be the favorite among his peers. What should he—a small burn on his arm called his attention. His lord was approaching the manor. Yes, it's perfect timing. She would get what she wanted and he would get what she wanted.

He took a step forward, "That can be arranged." He leaned forward and grabbed her hair, pulling her up. With a flick of the wand in his hand, the chains disappeared. She was basically helpless in his care: she barely ate, she was very small, and unlike him, she had no magic. He pulled her up the stairs by her hair.

The woman groaned as she was hauled up the stairs. The pain would be worth it. She knew how the lord would respond and she was ready for the salvation. She was prepared for what would be coming next and she yearned for the sweet release.

They entered a cavernous room in the manor far from the stairs. The room was filled with a gathering of people clad in black. They all turned as the two entered and a central man took a step forward.

"Ah, Lucius!" His voice was wispy and he opened his arms in welcome. The man was pale, sickly looking. He radiated a sort of evil that made anyone's skin crawl, even his own followers. His robes flowed behind him as he walked closer. He spoke and the woman's skin crawled, "So good to have you. But—oh! who is this here?"

"My lord, I have brought the girl," the man answered. Lucius bowed at his master and forced the woman beside him to bow. "The Potter girl." The woman's eyes flicked to the Dark Lord in front of her and she couldn't help but cringe away.

The lord's eyes flashed to her and his mouth curled into something that barely resembled a smile. "Ah, she shall speak?" the lord asked, his voice curious. Every person knew that if the girl would just speak, the war may end. It seemed almost as if everyone in the room had stopped breathing in anticipation. Lucius nodded and pushed the girl forward, towards the Dark Lord.

"Yes, I shall speak," the woman said, holding her dirty head high in front of the crowd of people. She didn't waver and her eyes rested on a familiar man across the room. His black hair fell in his eyes and they were full of surprise. Masked in the surprise was also a tad of fear for the woman that stood before him. He wished to speak, to help, but he couldn't. No, he wouldn't defy the lord or else it would end so much worse for her.

The lord nodded, waiting for her to speak. She knew so many secrets, he could almost feel them in front of him.

The woman gulped and then looked from the man across the room to the Dark Lord in front of her. Lucius leaned forward, excited that he had finally broken her. They were on the verge of winning and it was all his fault! He would finally be the favorite, not that other man…

"The Order has many secrets," the woman began, her voice soft and raspy. The man across the room shook his head slightly but didn't intervene for fear of putting her in danger. He hadn't know that she was right beneath his feet all this time and he hated himself and those around him for it. "But there is one thing that I believe you should know…" she continued, her eyes flicking to the man across the room. She almost regretted what she was about to do; it wasn't the most solid plan and she didn't even know if it would help, but she knew she had to try. This was the only thing she could think of.

She leaned forward, "You will be vanquished." She whispered, then spit at his feet. The Death Eater's eyes widened and Lucius gave a small shake of his head.

Everything seemed to move in slow motion as the woman glanced at the man across the room. She saw him but she also saw everything that they could have had together. She saw the children, the sweet suburban life, but it wasn't meant to be and she knew that. She chuckled softly at the thought of what could have been then mouthed, "I love you." The man took a step forward as if he would be able to save her from what was about to happen. In front of the woman, the Dark Lord raised the snow white wand towards her, pointing it near her face. It had been her last chance.

The last thing the woman would see was the face of the man she loved, the man she should have been with. Her body would fall limply to the ground and the man would wait to go to her. As the Dark Lord and his followers left the room, the man would lean down beside her body and watch as the last shreds of light left her eyes. He would hold her limp hand, squeezing it to try and feel the life that had once animated them. There would be no response and with that last touch, he would shed just one tear. One tear to the girl that he had lost, to the girl that he had loved more than any witch in England. One tear to the girl that had changed the way he saw the world; one tear to the woman who had saved him.

And then as he rose, he would decide he would avenge her. He would walk away from her, but he would never truly leave her. From that moment on, he thought of nothing but vengeance. He would see her eyes in that moment, asking for forgiveness for what she was doing. And he would hear the voice echoing through the room, "Avada Kedavra."