Hello, I'm editing this story now, then finishing it off! Sorry that the long wait is coming in the form of an edit not an update. I have grown a lot as a writer since I started this story so I'm fixing it up first!
The Order had been in many battles after they destroyed the diadem at Hogwarts.
Voldemort had fled once Nagini had been killed and locked himself in the heart of Rowle's little property. Rowle had always been a very paranoid man so when he purchased the building separate from his family's tower.
Then, he destroyed every record, made it unplottable and then added a fidelius charm for good measure.
Unfortunately for one Antonin Dolohov, he was the secret keeper.
His life was now the only thing standing between the Order of the Phoenix and Voldemort… and he was very aware of his misfortune at the moment. The Order had been in and out of his room daily. Every day he would ask "Are you here to finish me off?"
Usually, they laughed at him, handed him his food and responded with a question of their own: "Are you ready to tell us the location?"
He would shake his head and they would leave. Twice a week, they let him shower. Of course, always supervised. But, it was still better than Azkaban because it was warm and they gave him time (and soap) to actually get the daily grime off.
He stopped counting days by the fourth week. He decided instead to learn his captors. The same one never appeared twice in a day, that he already knew.
They rarely sent in women, but when they did it was that Prewett witch or the Black witch that never looked the same. He knew there were other witches there, he could hear them. The laughter would be all that he could focus on some nights. They really liked sending in the werewolves, or rather the werewolf Lupin and the half pup Weasley. Of the group, they were some of the more imposing presences, but still, no one was going to make him reveal the location, Rowle was a great deal more unstable and intimidating than this lot.
Then one day, she walked in. When he looked up, he asked: "Are you here to finish me off, sweetheart?" She froze. Ah, they didn't warn this one.
It was barely a pause in her behavior, but when you're used to the insanity in the ranks of the Death Eaters, you learn to watch for signs of impending attacks. She glared at him and turned around and walked out. It took him his entire dinner to realize that she didn't ask him, not at all. Three visits from her that day and no question. And the next day the same thing happened.
It kept happening all week.
Soon the other voices started to fade from the house too. It seemed like fewer and fewer people were stopping by. The only time he saw anyone besides her was when it was time to shower. Within the month, the house was silent except for her footsteps - she never spoke anymore, there was no one to speak with it seemed. She would bring in his food three times a day- he would ask her are you here to finish me off, sweetheart? And she would ignore him and walk out.
Finally, one day when she came in with lunch, he said: "That brown is a good shade on you, you should wear it more often, kotenok."
She reacted with a raised eyebrow but still said nothing. When she came in for dinner, she had changed. This time he said, "I've been getting cold."
She showed no sign of hearing him.
The next day with breakfast she brought in a blanket. He tried to get a reaction with "I would be warmer with someone to share the bed with, kotenok."
Again, she showed no sign of hearing him.
He kept trying. It had been a full week and he would spend his time alone thinking of ways to get her to react. She usually didn't, but when she did it was subtle and hard to catch.
He noticed that she did wear brown more often, though unfortunately, she never wore the jeans he complimented again. Granted, it's debatable if It looks good but it would look better on the floor is actually a compliment coming from a man like him.
It had hit the point where he even tried to speak only Russian to see if he could catch anything on her face. It didn't work. So finally, about a month later, he gave up trying.
When she walked in, he went back to "You here to finish me off, sweetheart?" and looked away, not even bothering to search for a reaction this time.
"No, I'm here with lunch," her tone a little amused, and when he turned he could see the slight smile on her face.
He stared at her as she slowly dipped her bread into a bowl on her tray. She never stayed to eat before. Today was full of new things. But she still didn't ask. The next few days were the same thing, a few words more each day. But she would never ask him.
It got to the point where they would have full conversations and debate magical theory.
After a while of this, he broke down and almost yelled "Why don't you ask me where he is?"
She tilted her head, considering the best answer, "Because I don't think you'll tell me and I get angry when I don't get my way."
"I would though, only for you," he shrugged.
"Why?"
He took a bite of his bread before answering, quietly, "Short answer: It's you."
She didn't say anything for the rest of lunch, just thinking it over. As she was gathering the bowls to leave, she broke the silence, "and... the long answer?"
He took a deep breath, "When you first walked in, I knew you were the girl I hit with that curse. You survived something no one else ever has. You should be dead. But you aren't. It's respect on my part."
She looked a little wary at his smile from that.
He continued, "You must understand. I made that spell to kill someone quickly without the pesky use of an unforgivable."
She snorted and looked at the wall.
"There is no way that you ever should have lived. You should never have been able to attack me in the muggle shop. But you did. I was defeated by a teenager. Fair is fair."
"Okay," and then she walked out. She still didn't ask.
At dinner, he asked for parchment and a quill. When she brought it in, he wrote down the address. She walked out of the room, without ever asking, just a small smile and nod.
The next time he saw her, she was covered in dirt and blood, leading a team of Aurors to his room. The time after that was at his trial. Between those days, he found out that the order had spent his captivity talking wizards and witches into joining and then training for a final attack. As soon as he wrote the address, they struck. He was one of four living Death Eaters now.
When she took the stand, she was brusque in every answer. The final question she was asked was if she felt that the kiss should be given. He never expected the response she gave.
She turned her gaze from the small group of Wizengamot to the man questioning her, and clearly stated, "No."
"And why not?" he asked, looking upset at her answer.
"I didn't have to ask for the address," she glanced to Antonin and then back to the Wizengamot, barely letting a smile show on her face.