Full Summary:

Rosaline Malfoy is forced by her parents into an engagement with a respectable pure blood man, Rabastan Lestrange, who not only is twice her age but is also her uncle. But when the one person who changed her blood supremacist ideology is captured and brought to Malfoy Manor, losing her family and whole identity won't be the biggest challenge that comes with the escape. Staying alive will be. If only prisons kept their prisoners in.

Hello! I have a new story, for those of you who are currently reading Muggle Missing, for those who aren't welcome to reading my work!

I won't go to much in detail about this piece since I believe that it may give some things away to soon. But No this is not a slash piece, (sorry to those who hoped it was!) I picked Rabastan and Fred because they will have the most impact on this story, instead of FredxOC or RabastanxOC because they will both be equal in who moves the story forward. I hope it doesn't upset to many people that I did this. Also I apologize in advance for the lack of Fred Weasley in the first couple chapters, but if you wait a bit I promise he will be in this story. A lot.

Also I am not JKR, I believe that anybody visiting a Fan Fiction site would know that in advance, but to those who believed for a bit that I am JKR, sorry to severely disappoint you. Although I am a female with red hair(currently) I look nothing like her. But apparently my British accent is "Unbelievable" according to those who have heard it.

Oh yes, to my Muggle Missing fans, no I have not given up Muggle Missing, I came up with this story right about the time I first started writing Muggle Missing(March) and started writting this in June, I finished this chapter before I finished chapter 7 of Muggle Missing, but that one is up next unless Chapter two of The Cave writes itself first.

Reviews, comments, questions, favorites and alerts are welcomed!

Chapter 1- Prisoners and Prefects

"The Dark Lord will rise again, Crouch! The dark haired woman screamed out to the Wizengamot. Throw us into Azkaban. We will wait! He will rise again and will come for us. He will reward us beyond other supporters! We alone were faithful! We alone tried to find him!" She rattled bars of the cage that held her and three men. They were, her husband Rolodophus, the thicker man with the blank stare; his brother Rabastan, the leaner one with a hungry visage and shifty eyes; and finally a sandy haired boy only a bit older than I am, Barty Crouch Jr. The woman was Bellatrix Lestrange and the men behind her in the cage were convicted Death Eaters, some of the loyalist and most sadistic followers of the Dark Lord. They had tortured the two aurors Frank and Alice Longbottom into insanity, and for this they were sentenced to life in Azkaban Prison.

I watched from my seat on the spectator bench as the memory dissolved around me and I found myself back inside my father's study. I had been watching the trial in my father's pensieve. Pensieves were useful creations for understanding the past since one could go back and relive memories. My father's lovely onyx one sat in its place of honor on its carved, bird-eye Maple stand. As things in the world were changing rather rapidly just now, understanding the past was even more key to understanding the present than usual. These times reflected not just the typical ebb and flow of power and politics,-they were but something far more drastic, a whole new world order that has always been a priority on Pure Bloods' and Dark Wizards' agenda. Not six months prior, the Dark Lord had risen from the abyss to the power of shadows and nightmares, undetected due to the ignorance and selective attention of the Ministry. Dark times lay ahead for those of mixed or less than aristocratic blood and the Muggles they futilely tied to protect.

A loud pop from the entry hall, down the hall from the study interrupted my thoughts. They're here. I levitated the bowl back into its cabinet. Clearing my mind, using my skills in occulmency, to shut away my thoughts from curious peering minds, I straightened my dress, black lace over a light pink satin, long sleeves and reached just to my knees, and walked out to greet our newest house guests, coincidentally the subjects of my pensieve memory: my mother's sister Bellatrix Lestrange, her husband Rodolphus, and his younger brother Rabastan. They were staying with us indefinitely we gathered, since tonight had been the second break-out from Azkaban Prison.

"Good Evening," I politely greeted my aunt and uncles, as they and my parents took off their wraps in the entry. "How did the break-out go? I take it the dementors were cooperative?"

"Yes, very much so. Bella you remember Rosaline?" My father answered and reintroduced me to my aunt. I had met her in the flesh once or twice as toddler, but knew more of her from my father's memories and my mother's childhood stories about her.

"Yes of course, my favorite goddaughter," My Aunt replied, falsely sweet, reaching out and embracing me in an awkward hug. I was repulsed by her personality but I tried not to stiffen too much at her touch.

"Your only goddaughter," I muttered to the side as I stepped back. I doubted that she wanted to think of her other niece, the half-blood from her blood-traitor of a sister.

"Rosaline, it's been so long since we've seen you last," Bellatrix said with a bit of a forced smile, seeming not to have heard my interjection. "How are you liking Hogwarts? Is Professor Snape treating you well?"

"Yes, Auntie, I have been enjoying it. Professor Snape is a fine Head of House and no doubt will make an excellent Headmaster. He even named Draco and me Prefects!"

"But you are not Head Girl?" interrupted my Uncle Rodolphus. "What a shame, what a shame. You would think that a Malfoy could do better than just a Prefect. Your Father and I were both Head Boys. I would expect you and Draco to be the same." I kept my smiling façade up, despite the conversation. I hid the malice I felt and tried to think about how it was an honor to have the Dark Lord and his most faithful staying in my family's home. But although I was raised to this, I had my misgivings. I felt uneasy, as if they might be able to see into my less than loyal thoughts.

"Rosa, go fetch Draco and bring him down here, please. I am certain that he would like to greet his relatives" bid my mother, knowing that I needed an escape from them all. I could hear the strain in her voice. I knew that having literally the Houseguests from Hell was going to be tough on her also.

I curtsied slightly and made my exit, making my way up stairs to Draco's room. It was more of a cave than a room, really. He kept himself holed up there with his brainless baboons of friends and rabbits of girlfriends most of the time, only coming out to eat or to entertain the brainless baboons outside of the house. My brother Draco was a git at the best of times and at the worst, well let's just say that eating a whole pot flayed flobberworms was more appealing than spending time with him. Like the rest of the family he had the pure blood mania, eager to get as high up as he could in the Dark Lord's graces. I wondered if the Dark Lord cared; would it make any difference to him if his followers fawned less?

I rapped my hand against his door. "What?" His face barely peaked out. "Come to tell me about supper? I already ate." He closed the door quickly again.

I rapped again, this time to no response. "Fine then. Don't come down. Your funeral," I called back and began to walk off when the door creaked back open behind me.

"What did you say?" Draco spat back at me.

"Nothing. Nothing is down there, except for Auntie Bella, and seeing as she hardly knows you I do not believe that she would be too happy to hear that you do not wish to see her." I smirked. "So I guess I'll be seeing you at your funeral. Do you prefer Lilies and a Black Box, or would you prefer chrysanthemums, daises, and a mahogany box to better reflect your sunny disposition?" I walked away from him, knowing he would follow.

We entered the dining hall to see everyone sitting around the table diving into a late supper. Mother motioned me to sit down next to Rabastan, my younger uncle; he was only about 35 compared to his brother and Bellatrix's 50. I'm sure that before Azkaban he had been quite a handsome man, but the years in there had taken their toll on his looks as well as his health. His eyes and cheeks looked hollow and sunken in. He was starkly pale from the lack of sun. His blue eyes met mine as I sat down next to him.

My father cleared his throat to break up this little moment. I looked up and saw Bella grinning from behind her wine glass. She looked vampiric through the red wine, which was not surprising, given her general demeanor, fashion sense, and use of extreme make-up. At that moment the Dark Lord himself floated into the room. His face sunken, slit like nostrils flaring, and red eyes blazing, he sat down at the end of the table opposite my father. I swallowed hard. The Dark Lord had been here for a few months but because of school I had not been around him. Returning home for the Winter Holidays, my family's home no longer seemed welcoming—it was a cold and scary place now. The fireplaces lacked warmth, and despite the fluttering flames inside them only emitted cold ash and soot. The windows that had once let in the sun were now permanently darkened by thick, grey permafrost. The stone walls of my once castle functioned now as a dungeon and a prison.

I felt something move around my feet and hiss as I moved away from it. I looked quickly, saw Nagaini, and regretted it. The Dark Lord's massive familiar snake, Nagaini sparked the phobia of snake I'd had since I was little. Draco had found one in the garden and had thrown it in my bed for me, telling me when I screamed not to look at it, since it was a basilisk. Of course it was only a garden snake, but what did I know as a kid? The brown could have merely been dirt covering the acid green scales of a monster.

'It seems our favorite Syltherin princess is afraid of snakes," hissed the Dark Lord, to the chuckles of the table.

"Seems is an understatement, my Lord, but it is!" My new least favorite uncle chortled to the assembled company and then addressed me. "How is it that you are frightened by snakes? Did you not know that your houses mascot is a snake because the founder, old Serpent Tongue himself, was a parselmouth?"

"Yes, I knew that, everybody does, it was in Hogwarts: A History," I replied with as much composure as I could muster "Has Draco told you yet about his first year as a Perfect? I heard that one of the muggle-born prefects actually gave him a detention." Not wanting to be the mockery of the table I redirected them to Draco, who returned the favor by giving me a look of pure hatred.

"Is this true, Draco?" Father asked, taken aback. He looked as if somebody had told him his wand had fallen into a pile of dung.

"No." He replied quickly. "She took away ten points, so I took 50 away for being a mudblood." The table erupted with laughter.

"How is the new Defense of the Dark Arts teacher?" Rabastan asked me quietly, once the conversation had turned once again to the ever-fascinating topic of Muggle-borns were vermin who should be exterminated from the earth as quickly as possible. I looked up at him questioningly. He continued with a smile: "What , don't tell me they have finally found a person who will stay more than a year? I know I may be a bit older than you but even back then they didn't last long."

"She is alright, I replied indifferently, in truth I hated her but didn't want to dwell on the subject. "She's ministry appointed and gave me a detention at the start of the term, but since then she's been a bit better."

"What was the detention for? Surely you could not cause that much trouble." Rabastan asked a hint of a smile at his lips again.

"For objecting to not being able to practice magic in her class. She believes that it's safer for us to not practice defensive spells, but that the theory is sufficient. I disagreed and she gave me a detention. We haven't really gotten along since, but since I joined the Inquisitorial Squad she has been a tad bit nicer." I said bitterly. It wasn't just me who objected, but the entire class. After she gave detentions to others who objected, I spoke up. She made an example out of all of us.

"Well, I do have to agree with her on the safety part," he said, going back to his soup. I stared at him, surprised. "I mean Rose," he stopped and put down his spoon."When will you ever have to use defensive magic?"

"I mean, even if you do not wish to join the ranks, what danger are you in? Once the Dark Lord has fully taken over Muggles will no longer be a threat. You are a respectable pure blood. I'm sure you will make a respectable marriage and your husband will defend you if there is cause. You will not need defensive magic."

I looked up at him questioningly. He knew my back story. I had been approached by my father to join the Death Eater ranks and take the mark, but had refused as politely as I could, citing my need to continue my education. How could he know all this? He had only been out of Azkaban for a few hours.

"Yes, but there's always some danger," I countered, notwithstanding. "And what if I want to duel somebody? What if somebody does attack me sometime? What would I do then? Shoot them with sparks or flowers? Would theory be enough to teach you how to use magic?"

He chortled at that. "Rose, who will ever want to duel you? Girls don't duel. And surely you do not wish to engage anybody in a duel. You would not win, you surely know that."

"My Mother and my Aunt know how. What makes you think I shouldn't? If I don't learn magic then how could I even win if I were attacked? To learn would only give a fighting chance."

"Yes well, Bellatrix and Narcissa are different," he said, waving his hand in dismissal and shaking his head.

"How so? Why am I a different category of female? Am I not a woman like they are? I have top marks, I always do well in my studies. Would you have been able to get by on just theory? Would Bella or your brother have been able to?"

"Are you really comparing yourself to your aunt? Rose, you are a flower. You should be put on a pedestal and worshiped and should never have thoughts about wars or fighting. Anyway, didn't any of your other teachers teach anything about dueling?"

"Yes, in my fourth year Gilderoy Lockheart taught us some, but quit because of attacks on other students. Then last year Professor Moody taught us some things about defense as well as certain spells in your area of expertise. I do believe you knew Moody?"

"Yes, I knew him well," he added, adverting his gaze.

"I bet you did." I said back coolly. I knew this wasn't just because he was brought in to Azkaban by the famous Mad Eye Moody, but because he knew that last year there had been an imposter at Hogwarts and that impostor was none other than the other man who had helped him torture the Longbottoms into insanity. He knew Crouch had been the impostor. I moved around the food on my plate. I had lost my appetite being around the dinner guests like these.

"You never answered my question," I said looking back up at him.

"What question was that?" he asked annoyed.

"Would you yourself be able to get by on just theory?" I persisted.

"No, no I guess I would not, I just hope that you never have to see battle, if you do not wish to," he said placing special emphasis on the word "if."

"How do you know if I do or do not wish to?" I asked him, curious at how he seemed to think he knew everything about me, despite only having just met me.

"Oh, your father told us that you do not wish to take the mark but that your brother does," he said, fixing me with his piercing blue eyes.

Of course my brother had wanted to take the Mark, I thought, anything to set himself above Potter. Rabastan returned to his meal while I sat there disgusted. If he thought that he could not have gotten by on just theory then how could he expect anybody else to be able to? I guessed that the reason was because they didn't want anybody to be able to fight them, even family.

With a fluid movement the Dark Lord rose from his seat. "I believe I shall retire for the night. Nagaini, Come." He left without another word, disappearing into the darkness of the hall. He was staying in the house, but thankfully in the room the furthest away from my room.

I got up from my chair and left for a stroll in the garden. I had to settle my nerves. I took a breath of fresh air. The garden was dark. It once had held happy memories for me, playing in the dirt with Dobby our old house elf trying to keep me from getting too messy before dinner. He had been a good friend to me when I was younger. Under that lilac he would tell me stories when I was younger and create amazing tales of princesses and unknown magical creatures whom they tamed. He and I even had sword fights and pillow fights, since if I did it with Draco, he would hurt me likely as not. Dobby entertained me with magic and mysteries all my youth. I missed him now. I was the only member of the family who viewed Dobby as a creature with feelings, more than just a slave and my father's property. It was too bad he had been freed by Potter, his new idol, his new hero.

"Fenir, come here." Rabastan said, watching Rosaline as she disappeared into the night.

"What?" The werewolf asked, annoyed that he had been beckoned like a dog.

"Follow her," Rabastan said, keeping her in his intense gaze.

"My pleasure," Greyback said with a wicked sneer. He slipped out into the shadows, silently stalking Rosaline's retreating form.