The door opened, sending my eyes in to a burning frenzy as they got used to the sudden light. The light would have looked dim to many people, but to me, it was the sun. It was death. Many people would have been happy to have some light shed in to the pitch black room, but not me. For me, when light came, it meant pain was coming.

I didn't get a chance to adjust before gentle hands took me under my arms and pulled me to my feet. Realising he was holding on to me more than he should, he let go. Without his support, my limbs fell, crippled from exhaustion. He caught me before I hit the ground. His smooth skin on my bare arms and before he could waver, he took me from the room.

More burning light. I closed my eyes from the pain but a wand touched my spine and shot piercing pulses through my nerves. My reaction was nothing more than a flinch and I opened my eyes. I knew not showing my pain didn't help my situation but I still refused. If you show pain, they enjoy the experience of giving it you so they do it over and over again to fulfil their sick desires. If you refuse to oblige and sit there in your silence, they'll do it again until you scream. I'd rather have my pride when it comes to taking the pain. I want my friends to know that their secrets were safe with me, and when the word of my death reaches them but no enemies come, that they trusted the right person with their lives.

And I would give my life to protect theirs.

This is the first thing I remember. Breaking in to their house to find it empty except for me, Draco was the one to lead me from the place. His death grip on my arm until we apparated here. Then, I was knocked unconscious. Now it's the last thing on my mind. He never said anything to me, just the way he looked, like he wanted to say something. His bedroom is right above my cell, I think it was accident but it's under his floorboards. I know he's afraid of the dark, he sleeps with the light on all night; I can see the cracks of light from under the rug. I bet he has nightmares, I bet he hears my whispers. His empty heart replaced with paranoia that I'll claw my way out and asphyxiate him in his sleep. He mumbles in his sleep, asking questions about where I'll go after I'm gone, whether I'll be safe or not.

I want to know why this is hard for him. I looked across at his face as he guides me down the stone halls. As we enter a chamber, he ties me on to a table. Do you even recognise me? After months of eating scraps, torture and not seeing a wink of daylight, I was skin, pale and skeleton like. My hair was thin and limp, cut short in a scraggly mess. My eyes were colourless and sunken. I was a bare shadow of myself. Hermione Granger hadn't existed for months.

I see a glimmer in his eyes but it's gone as soon as it came. I think he does. I know I'm wrong but it's the only thing I have to believe in. I'm so lost I'm barely here, I want to tell him. I want to tell him to give up, that there's nothing left in me. I want to explain and as I open my mouth, the words escape me and I realise there is no point. It's too late to save me.

"You're too late." I manage to breathe whilst he straps my wrist to the table. His head was considerably close to mine but I don't know if he heard. Stiffening, Draco straightened and walked away.

"Do it." His voice was threatening to crack.

The table dropped without any warning and I was plunged in to cold water. As I struggled against the binds, I realised something. The water wasn't boiling my skin. I stopped struggling. He'd gone cold with disappointment but Voldemort wouldn't let me go. So Draco was just reduced to mindless torture. I'd also noticed that Draco never stuck around to see the acts happening. And I know The Dark Lord had ordered him to be present. He just left me drowning in the next room. I knew there had been others that had been captured and tortured. I knew I was the first and I know I'm the last to survive. I was too much for him to let go. The last contagious victim of this plague between us. Voldemort had always been the plague to tear us apart. Draco and I were a couple, but I'd never felt anything real for him. Yet as I watched him walk away, a different kind of pain came to my chest, and it wasn't the asphyxiation of drowning. I was from being left alone.

And then it dawned on me why.

The apprehension had been making me sick over the past months, apprehension of wanting to know when I would die. Sick, crippled from exhaustion for not letting them rip me apart, of staying strong. Now, I only felt dread. I never expected them to tell me when the moment was going to come, but I thought The Dark Lord would be here, or that Draco would have stayed. But now the dread was here. When he opened that door, it had been the moment he had finally come to kill me.

My thoughts travelled to a little girl. A little girl that had been born to a man with ginger hair. The ginger haired man I had loved still loved. But I knew he didn't love that little girl. Everyone knows ginger is the dominant gene. Then why had his baby girl been born with platinum blond hair.

She was the main reason why I was here. Other than being Harry's secret keeper, when Draco found out he was a father, Lord Voldemort didn't scream, he didn't rage, he didn't strike Draco down. Instead, Draco had to prove where his alliance was. The order was for my baby. But Draco brought me with the words, I'm yours, but I'm not a monster.

The Dark Lord was satisfied enough. With a grin the order was 'Muggle torture for the mudblood'.

My head was pounding, chest tight. I knew I wouldn't last much longer. I heard loud noises coming from outside my tank. I turned my head slightly, eyes heavy. Flashes of light were going off, yelling and bangs. I saw red running towards me but a blond dark came from nowhere and blasted him out of the way. The water around me was untouched and flawless with no ripples. I saw him above me, slightly blurry but perfect.

Chaos, but we were the only ones. I wanted to cry it was physically impossible for me. I had no energy left and my death was rapidly coming. Eyes hazy, I saw Draco reach out, but a blast of green light and he fell to the floor, blond head smashing against the glass, blood smeared the side. His face was facing mine.

I didn't want them to rescue me so I closed my eyes, appearing like it had already happened, even though it was moments away.

So this is what it took. Torture was what it took for me to love Draco.