Disclaimer: Sadly I don't own any of the characters (well except for that select few in the crowd, but they aren't awsome cause I created them) or the setting J.K. Rowling does..... or do I? wait WAIT! no! AHHHHHH! please Mr. Mafia Man (hehe alliteration) I don't want to swim with the fishies! NOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!

A/N: Yeah some of the characters act different, who wouldn't in this setting... kinda AU....They lost the war.....

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The Depths of Hell

Devastation, smoke curling in the air, no one would have believed a prophecy capable of not being true, not one who did believe in him was likely to be alive and well.

London was not a place any of the light would have liked to be in at this point in time. No. Not HIS city, the burning city, the city on fire. In fact Europe altogether was a hell hole, the darkness reaching and stretching out towards Asia and Africa, though not yet daring to reach out for the Americas.

The screams were muffled but still emanating from the places formerly known as respectable neighborhoods. The pubs and inns turned into whore houses and strip bars. The museums and department stores laid to waste. The schools left unattended even by those pronounced "Pure". It was a dark and dreary time.

Hope shone no more than a firefly squished under the soles of a child's shoe, if they even had a shoe. It was the Modern Dark Ages, but there was no bright religion to spark a hope, no savior to rally the masses, no superman to fight the evil. No, our only hope failed us. He failed us.

I had woken up for the past 3 years with a hope crushed a little more every day that it was all a dream, but no. It was a harsh reality, and still it continued to grow harsher with every minute of the life I had refrained from ending.

I slipped through the halls quietly and though all the jewelry presented by my suitors was layered on me, not a sound was made. A cat, I have always been described as, though more a panther or a jaguar than anything else. Beautiful. Graceful. Intelligent. Originally a blood traitor… And "Pure". The pureblooded whore they called me. Not fit for the brothel I dominated. Wanted by many, gained by none. Desired by all, loved by few. The whore fit to be a queen. Finally I found the room I had been looking for. It was time to carry out the plan.

The lace covering my voluptuous body fluttered as a walked through the doorway. I jingled a bracelet to let my presence be known. "Master, you have arrived early," I spoke in the dreamlike voice that, had I not been working would have sounded hard and full of hate, but no, my voice was smooth, emotionless.

I felt his eyes roam my body as he spoke, "Luna, I wasn't expecting you back so early, you look as beautiful as ever." He gazed into my deep ocean grey- blue eyes. "I have brought you a trinket that is a rare beauty and will surely put to shame the radiance of all the rest," He held out a finely made silk bag as he spoke, "I hope you like it."

I opened the bag and, started with a gasp, "Y-you found it! My ring!" To say I was surprised would be an understatement; I had lost the ring in the first hour of the second war. Crafted out of sterling silver it coiled up my thumb when I picked it up, a magical ring. It laid perfectly where it came to rest; delicate yet strong looking with a bordered edge and an inscription on the inside it was a simple beauty. A spark of hope flickered through me, with this I can be of real help; I can break free from this awful imprisonment called a brothel! This thought brought gusto to my cause, the power of my ring and what it signified was irreplaceable.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you master truly!" I almost burst into tears of joy and apparently it satisfied him. "It is a gift like none other!"

"I am glad I could be of some service to you other than a customer." His statement reminded me why he was here in the first place.

"Oh of course, what can a poor humble girl like myself do for you today Master Theodore?" I asked politely though my insides were burning with hatred for the man I once knew as a fellow classmate. Nott was an impeccable Slytherin and devoted customer, but I still had trouble getting him off my tail.

He chuckled a little as he thought. "Well…"

I gasped for breath as I finalized the first stage of the plan, He was dead. Staged to look as though an obsessed customer had tried to kidnap me and Nott had gotten in the way. His purse full of Galleons was mine and of course one more Death Eater out of the way, along with an unconscious annoying rat of a customer. It was the best time I had had in years, three to be exact or, in other words, since before the war.

"Luna!" I heard a shout, "Luna dearest, are you all right?! I heard a scream…" she stopped in surprise when she saw his body lying in a deep red pool of blood. "What? What happened?" she took a deep shuddering breath, "is, is he d-dead?"

Putting on a grimace with a trained look of fear in my eyes, I started to explain what had happened. As I spoke, I remembered what had really occurred. The truth flashed through my mind, a stain on my soul.

Gently approaching him I swayed my body to the rhythm in my head, the tones of a deep bass drum echoing as the memory of a performance of a city band entered my mind. The song had been beautiful yet disturbing at the same time. It was composed in a time of fear, confusion, and death not unlike the times now. I curled my body like that of a deft feline and circled him in the dance called seduction. In one smooth movement I had a blade pressed to his throat and his wand across the room. Wandless magic had always come easy to me, but it was unknown to others just how much power I had; just how well I could use it. The fear and confusion in his eyes would have amused me had I been able to see them, his muscles tensed and he waited for me to speak.

"Oh dear, oh dear, what do we have here?" I drawled, my voice hard with venom and hate. "Surely the great Theodore Nott would at least die of old age and not at the hands of Looney Luna Lovegood, whore extraordinaire." I whispered dangerously, next to his ear, "Know this Nott, I am going to kill you and never, ever will I be blamed for it." Setting up the scene, I screamed.

Gripping the foul idiot's wand tightly I pointed it at the crazy customer I had chosen to set up. The carefully crafted memories implanted in his head and his stunned body placed where it would have been had he tried to actually attack me.

It was perfect.

The moaning and screams of the ghosts of past filled the air. It was almost deafening to someone who had caused the overwhelming pain and torture fueling the screams. A place no other Death Eater dared set foot in.

It wasn't like Hogwarts had become an ugly, plant filled, over-run maze, but it had been repaired from the war. By whom only Merlin would know. The walls covered with ivy only added to the ambience. It was the perfect hiding place, for not a single "ally" of his would disturb him and a very select few ever visited. He wasn't worried about being discovered, though he kept up his senses, ready to defend himself at any moment. This was uncharted territory.

His rapt attention faltered, however, when he discovered something he recognized. Something that belonged to her, the girl whose life he had destroyed. Luna Lovegood's butterbeer cap necklace lay on the floor in front of him, reminding him of the horrible deeds of his foolish younger years. It brought pain to his heart, an undeniable anguish that most would have thought impossible for him to feel.

As he bent to take it he heard a noise, the unmistakable rustle of fine silk. He turned and caught sight of the almost white, blonde hair not considerably unlike his own. Clutching the necklace in his hand he spoke for the first time in 6 months. "Luna?" It came out raspy and soft. "Loony Luna," Now it came out as more of a fact than a question. He saw past the soft sweet smile to the harsh bitter look in her eyes. The repulsed look he was getting sent a shiver down his spine.

"Malfoy," I finally decided to address him, though I thought him unworthy of any title anymore. Curtly I nodded to the necklace in his grasp, "You can keep that if you like, I have no need of it anymore. It is and was an object of my former personality."

He simply stared deeply into my eyes and clutched it tighter, like it was his life-line. "What would I do with it," his voice came out soft and full of emotion, surprising me to great lengths. I had thought no one was ever capable of feeling anything other than hate and cut-throat ruthlessness anymore. He walked towards me closing the gap that no longer was personal space to me, when you're a tramp for a living your body is no longer yours but everyone else's.

He tucked a finger under my chin and forced me to look him in the eye, "Do you hate me?" The sorrow etched into every plane of his face startled my angry resolve. "Do you despise me for what I did, even though I have repented for it every day for 6 months?"He paused, "Am I so disgusting to you that you can't even find the resolve to answer me?"

"No, Draco I cannot hate you any longer for what I now see you were forced to do, I only hate the one who forced you to do it." I brushed my palm across his chiseled and stubbly cheek. He nodded silently as his reply to my answer. It satisfied the part of him that wanted to know, to know if he had hurt me in an indescribable way. "Why are you here, Draco? What did they do that forced you to turn your back on them? To realize what was wrong and what was right?" I searched his face for the answer; if he wouldn't comply I was going to search his mind. My fingertips brushed down his cheeks to grip his shoulders. Gently I pushed past his block and probed his mind.

It was like he didn't care that I was invading his mind, not an ounce of resistance was made. He quickly dug through his memories and led me to a door. The door was boarded up, locked, and blocked off. It seemed as though he never wanted to be reminded of the memory. Slowly I chipped off the defenses one by one.

As the last board shattered the door started to creep open. Its dark aura seeped out and pulled me towards it. Complying, I walked through the doorway and stopped as soon as I saw it. Terrifying, brutal, and horrible were the first words to pop into my mind. I tried to get out, to leave his mind, but I was stuck. I was forced to watch as he was tortured. Every lashing and crucio rang in my ears. I screamed. The image of him in excruciating pain was burned into my retinas and, by the time I was released, his father and other Death Eaters tormenting him and beating him replayed, over and over in my mind. When I opened my eyes I doubled over in exhaustion. It was then as I blacked out that I realized how long I had been in his mind.

A/N: alright..... here's the deal I need you to *whisper whisper....* and *whisper snicker* and *whisper* *busts out laughing*. Review Please!......My story isn't beta'd and probably never will be....