Ginny woke up groggy, her stomach swirling from Apparition.

"Good morning, sunshine." A Cockney voice drawled at her. Ginny opened her eyes to see that she was lying on a floor in what appeared to be Hogwarts' Great Hall, and before her sat Bellatrix Lestrange.

"Morning." She said, struggling to sit up. Realizing that she couldn't, she looked up at Bellatrix.

"What did you do to me?"

"Have a look-see." Bellatrix said in a sing-song voice, holding up a hand mirror. Ginny could see that she was twisted about the torso in an unnatural manner.

"What the hell?!" She screamed, then crying out in pain as her back wrenched back into place with a shove and aid from Bellatrix.

"Just thought I'd have a wee bit of fun." Bellatrix answered, drawing her syllables out.

"You're sick." Ginny finally sat up.

"You think?" Bellatrix laughed. "Let's go." She said, dragging Ginny to her feet.

She pulled the girl into another room, just off the Great Hall. Ginny resisted with all her strength, but despite Bellatrix's waif-like stature, she was able to drag the smaller girl along behind her.

"What are you doing?!" Ginny shrieked, her voice tinted with fear and worry.

"That's for me to know, and you to find out!" Bellatrix teased, tapping Ginny's nose.

A blush of fury came to Ginny's face. What could they want with her? She had done nothing to harm anyone, that she knew of. How had she even gotten here? She couldn't remember the journey, a Confundus charm had taken care of that.

Bellatrix tore at Ginny's nightgown, throwing a scrap of fabric with armholes and that was slightly stained at her. Ginny looked down at it.

"Put it on." Bellatrix said, her tone sharp.

"It's a pillowcase." Ginny said, dumbly. A sharp slap answered her and she grabbed at her face in pain.

"Did I ask you what it was? No. Put it on."

Ginny did as she was told, resentfully covering herself with the torn fabric. She looked down. The pillowcase covered to the tops of her thighs, just barely covering what it needed to.

"That's an improvement." Bellatrix said, eyeing Ginny disdainfully. "Now wait here."

Ginny looked around the room as Bellatrix made her dramatic exit, sweeping out the door in a flurry of robes and skirts.

She sat on the floor, pulling the material on her body as far down over her knees as it would go as she hugged them to her chest.

Where was Hermione? She wondered, hoping that her lover was in fact, safe. They'd fallen asleep together, like every other night before, but somehow, this had been what she'd woken up to. A tear rolled down her cheek as she looked around, her sense of hope entirely destroyed as she realized where she was. She was in Hogwarts Castle, the place of so many fond childhood memories, and the Headquarters of the Dark, the side of the War she was working against. She'd been taken captive, by the enemy.

Lucius Malfoy opened the oak door that stood in the wall opposite to where Ginny sat, and smiled as he looked at her.

"Hello, Miss Weasley."

Ginny did not need to have met the man before to know exactly who he was. He was Draco Malfoy's father, and she knew enough about him, and about his son, to know all she needed. This was the man who had brought her here, she knew.

"Hello." She said, attempting bravado with her voice but finding it hard to conceal the fear that shook and resonated within it.

"So cordial, in the face of fear." He said, his voice oily and silken with darkness, dripping with fluid evil.

"Why am I here?"

"Such a stupid question!" Lucius exclaimed, laughing, a maniacal sound that rumbled from his strong chest. Ginny instantly regretted asking. Why the hell else would she be there? She didn't want to think of the reasons. Anything but the reasons.

Lucius knelt to her level, bowing his head to hers.

"Why do you think you are here, child?"

"Because you're a sick fuck." She muttered. Instantly, she felt another pain in her face as Lucius lunged forward, grabbing her cheek in his strong teeth and sinking down. She screamed and cried out, wrenching herself away from him. He laughed again, licking blood from his lips, and smiling, teeth stained with red.
"Yes. You're right, Ginevra. I suppose I am." He said, still smiling. Ginny shrank back, clutching the bloody wound on her face. Inspecting it with her fingers, she was relieved to know that he hadn't torn a chunk off, as she'd expected, but rather merely punctured the skin and left a perfect imprint of his mouth.

Ginny hugged her legs tighter to her chest, making herself as small as possible as Lucius stood, stripping off his robes. Underneath them, he wore an elegant black shirt, made of silk, with black trousers that were cut just right. His curtain of blonde, shining hair fell down to his ass and gently tickled the waistband of his pants as he almost sashayed his way across the room. His gait wasn't quite feminine, not quite a sashay, and yet it was full of grace and delicacy. His steps were calculated, carefully and elegantly, and his hips followed in a fluid motion. He was truly beautiful, and Ginny knew it. How to survive it was the question at hand.

Ginny felt exposed in her waif's garb, and, she realized, she was. Lucius eyed her, though not in the sexual manner she'd expected. He went to the cabinet on the side of the room and withdrew something, she couldn't see what, for his back remained turned to her. He pointed his wand, black as ebony and capped with a shining silver handle, at her, and muttered a word she could not understand. All of a sudden, she began to seize.

Her parents hung before her, heads lolling and mouths spilling blood, eyes rolled back in their head. They hung from the rafters of the Burrow, the home she'd grown up in, and she screamed, whether in the dream or in real life, she was not sure. Her mother's body dangled ominously, as her weight proved to be too much for the rope that hung her, she came crashing to the ground, lying in a crumpled heap at Ginny's feet. Ginny jumped back, and felt herself crash into a solid form behind her. Harry Potter stood there, his scar ablaze with fire, a fire that soon consumed all of his body. Screaming still, Ginny ran past him and up the stairs, curling into a ball in what had once been her bedroom and hiding in the closet. A rustling came from the depths of the closet, and she stopped breathing, as if to say "If it can't hear me, I don't exist." A spider crept from the boxes and clothes stacked against the wall, a huge spider, with a thick, black, hairy body and pincers that clicked ominously. Ginny shot out of the closet, banging the door against the wall, and she saw her brother, Ron, before her. He was bloody and hurt, but alive, unlike everyone else in the house. She ran to him, and then she realized.

This time, she was awake.

Ginny, in her vision, had gotten to her feet and run across the room, to the darkened corner where she'd found her brother. He lay, as if asleep, breathing gently, eyes closed and peaceful.

"It's a spell. Nifty little things, aren't they?" Lucius asked, his voice lilting with humor.

"What have you done to him?"

"Nothing that wasn't done to you, darling. He's merely waiting his turn." His voice was pleased, yet as ominous as the spider he'd made her see.

What had been done to her? She realized that she had no idea.

"That's enough of that. Sectumsempra!" Lucius cried, as Ginny flew upside down to the ceiling, struggling to pull the pillowcase back over her bare thighs.

Blood poured from her eyes and throat, nose and ears. Every orifice of her body leaked the crimson fluid, and the flow was steady, strong. She screamed, gagging and gargling on her own blood, and the sound came out warbled, as if she were singing underwater. She tried to plead with him, anything but this, anything, please! But, she thought, he could not understand her. When enough blood had flowed from the girl that she was dead pale, lips blue, fingers white, he waved his wand and it cleared away, the bleeding slowed to a trickle and then stopped. She collapsed to the floor, gasping, chest heaving, as she looked at her own hands, which shook violently from the blood loss.

"How am I still alive?" She wondered, realizing too late that it was out loud. She began to wonder if keeping quiet was the answer to survival as a sharp crack hit her back, bloodying it and tearing the flesh.

Lucius stood, holding a small whip, that she knew was a Cat o' Nine Tails. Black and vicious, its well oiled leather shone in the dim candlelight, and she winced.

"Because I will it." Came the reply, punctuated by another whipping.

He beat her until she was bruised and bloody, crumpled on the floor, nearly unconscious.

"I will break you." He hissed, caressing the crescent of her ear with his tongue as he left her alone and fragile on the floor. The room swam in darkness and she closed her eyes as she lulled herself to sleep with choking sobs.

She dreamt of demons, of pain, of Hell. In her mind, she saw He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, he was destroying anyone she'd ever loved, Hermione, Ron, Harry, her family. Fred and George screamed under the Cruciatus Curse, and Hermione tearfully cried her name as Death Eaters took her under their cloaked bodies. She cried in her sleep, the sobs wracking her body and causing her more pain, physically and emotionally. Did Lucius even need to break her? Or was she crumbling on her own, falling into the depths of her darkest nightmares, her psychological Hell.

Ginny woke in a cold sweat, looking around frantically the dark room. Ron still lay in his corner, immobile, and at peace, it looked. Was he too, enduring the mental torture she was? Knives weren't needed, chains could be discarded, but for the torment Lucius had placed on her with the wave of his wand. She could hear him laughing in her mind, or at least, she thought she could. He took pleasure in these acts, that much was obvious, and she hated him. Hated him more than she'd hated his son, while they were growing up. Hated him more than anyone she'd ever come across, and she released a maddened squeal, punching the floor with a fist, as her fury welled. A pain seized her body, and she cried out, "Not again!" As she slipped back under into the world of Nightmare, a world she knew she would be becoming all too familiar with.

This time, she was back home, in the cottage she shared with Hermione. Since they'd left Hogwarts, they'd been together, and they'd sought comfort in each other through the War. After Harry Potter's death, his final defeat by Voldemort, they'd carried on his work, with the Order, to defeat the darkness. Together they'd worked, and they'd fallen in love in the midst of the horror and pain that surrounded them. Hermione slept before her, curled gently among the quilts of their bed, a light breeze fluttering in through the window. Ginny looked fondly upon her paramour, wondering how long this would last before the terror of the dream began.

She did not have to wait long.

A thin, pale form appeared above Hermione, slithering over the end of the bed. Hermione stayed asleep until the form touched her, caressing her cheek and in one fluid motion tearing the quilts away from her body. Ginny cowered in the corner, hands covering her face as she heard the sounds of what she knew to be rape beginning. She screamed and screamed, but the form never stopped, she couldn't save Hermione, and it tore her apart inside.

She came to, again, still screaming, yet still on the floor of the chamber. She was lying in a pool of her own blood, and she gagged to notice the amount, and how it had crept across the floor in a widening stain when she'd hung from the ceiling, bleeding like a stuck pig at Lucius' command. Her heart surged with pain, and it tore her inside to think of such things happening, of the very real possibility that this was happening to Hermione. She felt herself beginning to crack as she sobbed, and her sense of hope began to dwindle and die, the foundation of all that she was crumbling. She knew she was left to her own devices, and she could not feel anything but the overwhelming sorrow and pain that consumed her body and her mind.