I'm really into this idea at the moment, I'm glad I finally decided to work with it. Enjoy and feel free to PM/Review!

I don't own anything. On with the story…

I'd been in this same place for a while now. My hair was matted, the floor was filthy and I'd forgotten what daylight looked like. The cages were tiny and enchanted. If you tried to break them apart, the bars would burn your hands – I had the scars to prove it. When we'd first been put in here when Voldemort rose, there were a lot more of us and everyone was a lot louder. Now it seemed like everyone had suffered the dementor's kiss, the only sounds were that of the house elves scampering back and forth. I sat in the same curled up position, in the corner as I always did, hunching my body together to keep warm. They only gave us rags to wear here, why bother going to get clothes for an animal?

I could hear a ceremony going on above, the echo of Voldemort's voice smashing off the bare walls. Suddenly, the room was filled with the shuffling of prisoners pushing themselves as far back into their cages as possible. Regardless, I watched as one by one they were taken out until only half of the cages were filled – out with the old, in with the new. Then the moment I had dreaded, the house-elves were opening my cage. I knew oh too well what went on in the Great Hall and I wasn't going without a fight. I thrashed and screamed and managed to make it halfway down the hallway, before another 4 house-elves dived on top of me, taking the wind out of me completely. Together, all six of the elves dragging me into the hall and that's when I saw who I was being sent too. The foul little cockroach himself – I could have been sick in my mouth. I thrashed against the house elves again, trying to get loose, but it was no use and I could see Voldemort quickly tiring of me. Good, let him tire of me. Let him kill me. It'd be better than this. Darkness took over me, and I hoped I'd been granted my wish.

When I awoke, I tried to brush my hair from my face but I couldn't move my hands from where they were. Straining to look, I couldn't see anything physically holding my wrists to the railings of the bed, but it didn't mean something magical wasn't. I didn't even bother struggling, look how far that got me. I felt sick to my stomach just lying there, unable to move, my purpose in life completely taken over by someone else. The door opened and Narcissa Malfoy scooted in, holding what looked like a bowl of soup. She flicked her wand at a chair near the bed, before sitting in it, the tray on her lap. She flicked her wand a second time, and the spoon scooped up some soup before hovering just beside my mouth.

"Eat." She said firmly, and I could see the disgust in her eyes. I shook my head. I'd rather die. She scowled and her face reminded me of Draco's, putting me off even more. She didn't get angry right away, instead just making the spoon bounce off my mouth – it was so irritating I did nearly swallow it, but she lost her cool before then. The tray was slammed onto the dresser as she took to her feet, pacing the small room.

"Do not be insolent with me, girl. It is my home you are living in here! You should be privileged to be out of that cage at all and in the home of people who are willing to waste time and effort on feeding you. I will not have you throwing our effort in our faces!" She spat, standing near the small window. I laughed; I had no value of my life left and no reason to fear this woman.

"I would be living in my own home, if I had the choice. I would be feeding myself, if I had the choice. I would not be throwing it in your face, if I had ANY choice." I spat back at the elitist crap she was spouting. She scoffed, moving to the bottom of the bed, her knuckles turning white as she gripped the railings.

"You would not be living in my house, if we had any choice in the matter. You would not be marrying my son, if we had any choice in the matter. So do not lecture me about choice girl, if I could grant you your freedom I would do it for the sake of my son." Narcissa growled, and I found it difficult to sympathise – at least her son wasn't chained to a bed in a stranger's house. Narcissa moved around the side of the bed, closer to my head. "I am not sorry for doing this." She stated and I didn't have time to question her before her wand was pointed at me and my body was hers to control. She grabbed the soup bowl again, and this time my body put up no fight against the spoon. I tried to fight it, but I didn't have the energy or the will. When the soup bowl was empty, she took the spell off me, grabbed the bowl and left without another word.

I sunk back into the bed, my stomach feeling completely swollen – a full stomach being completely foreign to me. I felt completely exhausted as I sunk back into the bed, nothing else to do.

Narcissa stormed into the living room, throwing the soup bowl into the hands of a nearby house-elf. Draco and Lucius were sat in the living room, drinking whiskey from two golden tumblers. Lucius looked at Narcissa as she entered as if to say 'well?'

"She ate. Eventually." She muttered, standing behind Draco, her hand resting on his shoulder. Draco shrugged it off, pulling himself to his feet.

"I can't do this." Draco shook his head before storming out of the room and making his way up to his bedroom. He glanced in disgust at the room where she was, just next door to his, fighting temptation to punch the door. He sighed, hung his head and went to his own, completely defeated.

Sorry for the lack of Draco, I just thought I'd take a little time to expand how Hermione felt about the situation (:

Songs that inspired:
Do or Die – Thirty Seconds to Mars
World Behind My Wall – Tokio Hotel