A/N—Why oh why would I begin a new story? Perhaps I enjoy self-inflicted torture…perhaps I'm insane…or maybe I was just very bored on my second day of being snowed in at my house. Take your pick.

A Light in the Darkness

Chapter One
Anguish

It has been three years. Three horrible years I've been stuck here between a damned metaphorical rock and a hard place. I thought that I was helping the light; I sacrificed everything just for a chance to taken seriously.

My whole life has been surrounded by that which I could not see because I was always so boxed in by my own family. I was never allowed to actually experience anything out of the threat of impending danger and doom. They always said that I couldn't handle myself, that I wasn't cut out to be in the war business…turns out they were right.

After a solid year of begging, promising, threatening, and anything else that I could come up with I was finally given a mission. A real assignment from Dumbledore, I was ecstatic. It wasn't even something small and insignificant as I had expected, it was an important mission that truly mattered. I felt honored that he had trusted me with it.

It was the top-secret sort of thing that I had always dreamed of; I was finally doing something to make a difference. Dumbledore didn't tell anyone about the task he set for me though, it was that secretive and very important. At first I thought his silence about it was a good thing, my family would just freak out anyway…

But two weeks into my mission Dumbledore was murdered. The greatest wizard ever was brought down, it was one of the biggest shocks of my life. But I couldn't even show my shock—where I was there were cries of celebration instead of tears of anguish. I couldn't slip up, to show my true feelings would be my death sentence. So I had to start taking care of myself, depending on no one besides me for anything.

No one besides me, Dumbledore, and one other person knew that I was on assignment. In a moment of true irony my task from Dumbledore was to spy on a dark operative. Draco Malfoy. I thought it was brilliant, I hated Malfoy and I wanted to help the light. This way I could put Malfoy in Azkaban where he belonged and finally be taken seriously…it was perfect.

When Dumbledore died, though, there was no record of what I was doing. By the time my family found out they believed my cover to be the truth. I told them it wasn't; I fell down onto my knees and begged them to believe me. They said if it were true someone on the Order would have known about it. They turned their backs on me, washed their hands of my treachery. To them, I was just another Percy. I'm sure that my mother has even shed tears for me and my blackened soul. If they had known what I risked to even see them…I risked my own life just to explain to them that I wasn't evil and they turned their backs on me without even hearing me out. And that hurt more than anything else that has taken place in the past three years.

Three years have seen to it that I have become nothing more than Malfoy's whore. It was the only way to survive, though at this point I was not completely sure if I should have wanted to survive so much. This story had no happy ending that I could foresee, no way for the misunderstandings to clear up. Malfoy owned my body now, I was his and he had marked me as such…and that disgusted every fiber of my being.

If it weren't for Draco's possessive nature I would have become a slut to be passed around from death eater to death eater. At times, I almost felt grateful to him in spite of my hate. He had saved me countless times, I didn't even know why.

He didn't like me. I could never delude myself into believing that he cared for me. He found it fitting and charming that I had come to him, offering myself to him free of charge. So he took me, and decided to keep me. I became his possession, his doll.

He found me entertaining and told me on numerous occasions that he was intrigued by my unexpected beauty. He never noticed how I recoiled from his touch and shuddered and his words of endearments. I was a fighter, and I wouldn't become seduced by the dark. Even if they had all turned their backs on me I would continue to fight, if for no one other than myself.

I indulged his fantasy of my being in love with him. I was the obedient little puppy dog that he adored. He said jump, I asked how high. He knew that I was his in every way…I knew otherwise.

Year after year I played his fool and no one came for me. No one even bothered. I suppose it is always easiest to believe the worst of people, to assume there is nothing that you can do to help them. To not even bother takes far less time than to attempt to save them.

I had long since stopped praying for help, stopped hoping for a miracle. If I ever got out it would be off my own accord, it would be better that way anyhow. I would bide my time in Malfoy's bed while I planned an escape.

He had every reason in the world to trust me…I had made sure of it. I would get out of Hell and then I would seek revenge and vengeance against those who left me here to die when I begged them for help. Three years gives a lot of time to plan out exactly what you want to do and say to those who have wronged you.

My only pleasures had been derived from planning the death of he who deserved it the most—the person who was most responsible for my misery, the one who withheld the information of my mission from the other members of the Order after the death of Dumbledore. He would be last, he would be the one I would enjoy destroying the most.

Escape was still an issue though. Malfoy Manner had become headquarters for the dark, security was unbelievable. A fly couldn't leave this place without being noticed. I had watched the security, learned various codes, and made several very important friends.

I only had to fool Malfoy for a few weeks longer before my plan would set into action. Wouldn't be too difficult on my part, a little seduction never hurt anyone.

But with a week to go before my attempted escape it all fell apart. Malfoy discovered where my loyalties had been when I came to him. He discovered that I came in attempts to take him down. And with that discovery he changed everything and my future became bleaker than ever.

A/N—Prologue more than anything. I kept it short to see what the response was, let me know if you love it, hate it, or find it merely tolerable. For the first time reviews will actually dictate the future of the story as it was an impulse thing for me. If no one wants a new chapter, there will be no new chapter. So there you go, incentive to review.