A/N: Ok, a big thankyou once again to my reviewers!

WriterLady1031- Thankyou for your review and I'm really glad that you like it so far!

Cupiditatis - Thanks for pointing out that whole reviewing thing, didn't realise until you said anything.

Ashliegh - I'm glad that you liked the previous chapter, and I'm pleased that you picked up on Kat's reaction to A/M's little spat as this will probably come into play in a later chapter, maybe fourth or fifth. I'm glad that you approve of the way that Montague was going for Katie first before Angelina, it was a last minute thought and it went in on the last draft, I wasn't to sure about it. Thanks for you review!

elektra12 - Really glad that your buying the blackmail motives, etc as this means that the story so far is realistic and working well, thankyou for your reviews!

Chapter Three:

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The night had been unlike anything she had ever experienced before. Her sexual experience was limited, and that was putting it nicely, a few serious boyfriends before Fred and that summer fling a couple of years back was it.

She'd felt embarrassed, uncomfortable and inexperienced as he teased her. He'd revealed in her discomfort, in her awkwardness. He'd known, and used it to his advantage. He was gently with her, that much was true, he'd taken it slowly with her, that once again was true. But she couldn't help but feel embarrassed by the differences between them. You could tell from the predatory gleam in his eyes that he knew his way around a women.

He was a talented lover, by far better than any of her other boyfriends. Not even Fred, who she had thought at one point to be the love of her life. Montague was different. With Fred it had been a nervous bumbling affair of inexperienced lovers. With Montague there was none of that. He'd drawn it out, making her body blaze with desire, the blood crash through her veins. He'd made her want him, want a release that only he could provide. And he'd taken delight in her inner torment. The betrayal she felt by wanting him.

If it had been a cold hard fuck no doubt she'd remember it. But this way he'd seared the memory into her mind. Made her feel shame for not only selling her body, but sobbing, pleading, begging for release.

She'd seen the Dark Mark on his arm. The stark black ink on the white alabaster skin. She'd had a hard time tearing her eyes away from it. Mesmerised by the contrast of black and white, her attention captured by what the mark stood for. He laughed at her interest and disgust of the mark. He'd made her touch it, run her fingers over the slightly raised skin, graze her fingertips along the outline, kiss it, Worship the dark mark, Voldemort who was at the present graciously allowing her family to live.

He'd gone soon after it was over, the black mark on his arm burning and becoming a vivid red colour. A summoning.

A flick of his wand and he was clothed again.

"Make sure you're not here when I get back." He told her, his voice devoid of any emotion. He hadn't even looked at her, he'd been more interested in putting his watch on.

A sharp popping noise and Montague had apparated away.

Not bothering to pay any more attention to her. Not waiting to see her reaction, nor if she had anything else to say.

Angelina was still for a minute, not moving from the bed where she was sitting, the covers pulled up over her chest from where she had sat as she watched Montague dress and leave.

Pulling her knee's up against her body, she rubbed her hands against her face, trying to compose herself, taking deep breaths she tried in vain not to break down in tears.

What was she doing?

What was she thinking?

Did she really think that he could be any different?

That what he had done wouldn't affect him as it had her?

Of course it wouldn't. He was a slytherin. A death eater.

Regaining her composure, Angelina stood stiffly and wrapped the sheet around her body, as she picked up her items of clothing that had been scattered around the room, she quickly pulled on her underwear, followed by her skirt and top. She tossed the sheet onto the bed and pulled on her sandals.

Picking up her bag, she rummaged through it, and pulled out her phone. She looked down at the screen, and noticed that the battery was flat. She tossed it back into the bag, pulled out her wand and zipped her bag up.

Standing up she Angelina glanced around the room. The large bed dominated it, the dark wood with it's carved decorations, black sheets and bed hangings. The walls were lacking any personal decoration, in fact, apart from the bed and a matching dresser, wardrobe and chest of drawers, the room was completely bare. There wasn't even a mirror on the dresser, nor any small ornaments or accessories. The walls were a plain white, a stark contrast to the dark wood of the bed, or the black of the sheets.

Ironic wasn't it? That the room represented Montague. Devoid of any feelings, the furniture represented what he had, wealth, houses, manor's, prospects, but lacking all else.

Glancing at her watch, Angelina noticed that it was gone three in the morning and yawned. Emotionally and physically tired. She could apparate home, and get in a few hours of sleep before she called Charlotte, but no doubt Char would be over first thing in the morning, wanting to know what had happened.

Char had said she be up all night in case she needed her didn't she? Yes, Angelina was pretty sure that she had said that. Well, then...the best thing would be for her to visit Char now, to tell her that everything was fine, and that she'd speak to her again in the afternoon, after she had had a good few hours sleep, and a chance to recover. To prepare herself for the spanish inquisition that was Charlotte and her sister.

The bed covers were in disarray, and some of Montague's clothes were scattered about the room. A sudden urge ran through Angelina in typical Gryffindor style of tidying the room, but she quickly abandoned the scheme, wondering what the hell she was thinking. She owed him nothing. Did he think that she would clean everything up and disappear and he'd never have to think of her again?

No, he should remember. Remember what he had blackmailed her into doing. Remember the shame, the pain he had caused her. He should remember his threats and what he had said to her. He should remember it and regret it. No, she would leave the room as it was, leave him to think that she cared nothing for what he had done to her.

But if she acted as if she didn't care, would that imply that it didn't bother her? Would he think that she was used to sleeping with random people? Would she seem easy? Why was she even worrying about what he would think of her? He had blackmailed her. Why should she give a flying fuck what he thought? Bastard! Screw him! Might find a diamond in the rough? What the hell was Char thinking? Fuck him! Fuck Fred Weasley! Fuck all men!

With a snap of her wrist Angelina apparate away.

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Char glanced up at the clock on the mantle. Twenty-five minutes past three. She'd long since changed out of what she had been wearing earlier that night and was now in an old baggy tee-shirt that had belonged to a previous boyfriend.

She gave a visible start as she heard the doorbell ring, her heart hammering in her chest. Funny she hadn't heard any cars. Taking deep breathes to try and calm herself down, Char got up and cautiously made her way out into the hallway and down to the front door. Peering through the spyglass to see who it was, she gave a cry in relief at seeing Angelina outside on her doorstep.

Hurriedly pulling the door open she ushered her best friend inside, closing the door and re-locking it once again.

"Angie! My god your all right! You are all right aren't you? I'd never forgive myself if you weren't!"

"I'm fine Char. Just thought I'd drop in and see you before I went home. Didn't want you to spend the whole night up worried waiting for eight o'clock. This way you can see for yourself." Angelina told her, her voice sounding hollow, and the words fake even to her own ears.

But Char was too happy to see her friends safe than pick up on anything that seemed unusual. "I'm just happy your safe. His eyes were scary Angie, chilling. What the hell were you thinking going off with him like that, you could have been seriously hurt, or in danger, or god knows what with a guy like that!
But you are ok aren't you? He didn't lay a finger on you? Didn't do anything to hurt you? What happened? Where did you go? Kat tried calling you on your mobile but there was no answer. What did he want? Why would he want anything to do with you? I mean you were enemies for years. What-"

Angelina having had enough of the questions held up her hand for Char to stop. "I'm tired, I want a shower, and I want to go to sleep. I just-I just- " Her voice broke, and she fought for control. "I just want to go home Char." Angelina told her running her hands through her hair. "I'll be over tomorrow, not sure what time but definitely after I've had a few hours sleep. Ok? You can get Kat over, and we can do the whole question and answer thing then, Ok?"

"Angie-"

"Please Char, I just want to go home and forget about this for the minute. Please." She whispered, sounding broken and defeated to her own ears.

"Ok, just let me get my car keys and I'll drop you back." Char answered, searing through her bag for the elusive keys.

"Don't bother, thanks though. But you've been drinking, a-and you should be here." She finished lamely. "I'll be fine, it's what? A two minute walk."

"Are you sure, I'll walk you back if you want. How did you get here anyway?"

"Oh, a taxi."

"You should have told it to wait, then it could have dropped you back."

"Nah, the walk'll do me good, clear my head."

"Sure you'll be ok? You'll be safe?"

"I'll be fine." Angelina insisted. "I'll see you tomorrow afternoon."

With that she unlocked the door and stepped outside, giving a brief wave to Char, and made her way down the pathway to the pavement and walked along without looking back. Only when she heard the front door slam shut did she glance around. Making sure no-one was looking, she apparated home.

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The flat was exactly how she had left it, but it looked different, felt different. But it wasn't the flat that was different was it? It was her. How she viewed life. How she viewed her home. How she viewed her friends.

Kicking her shoes off, Angelina navigated her way through the darkness of her flat towards her bedroom. Clothes were still scattered about on her bed and a couple of glasses and an empty bottle of wine stood on her dresser from earlier that evening.

She turned and walked back out of the room, and into the bathroom where she turned on the light and switched on the shower, letting the water heat up. Switching the light on she winced slightly as it glared down at her.

Grabbing a few towels out of the airing cupboard she tossed them into the bathroom, and stripped off her clothes and underwear, chucking them into the bin, removing her earrings and necklace she dumped them onto the bathroom counter.

Stepping into the shower she turned up the hot water once again, welcoming the way it bit into her skin, the way its heat was almost unbearable as it scorched her. Pulling the soap out from its dish she rubbed it over her body, scrubbing furiously, trying to get the scent of him off her body, trying to wash away his touch and caresses.

She gave a slight cry as her hands skimmed over her hips. She glanced down, for the first time noticing the fresh bruises there. Bruises in the shape of finger prints. His finger prints. His marks. Had she left any on him?

Her body felt sore, stiff, and looked like she had been used. Well, she had hadn't she. She'd sold herself. Sold herself to Montague. Sold herself to a slytherin. Sold herself to Voldemort. She was no better than a prostitute. It didn't matter that she had sold herself so that her friends and family might live. She had still sold herself.

Oh God what had done? She gave as sob, and her stomach turned. Abandoning the soap, she pulled down the shampoo, and squirted it into her hair were she rubbed and scratched at her scalp, pulled at her hair. Her hair. He'd pulled her hair, tugged at it softly, gently, playfully, wrenched at it painfully, angrily. He'd wrapped it around his finger, studied the colour and texture of it, he'd let his fingers roam through it while he was fucking her. Using her. Screwing her. Her. Some whore. Some slut. That was what she was.

The hot water beat down on to her body. Her body that had betrayed her. The body that had wanted his touch. That had asked for it. The body that pushed against him, that had moved under his hands, under his mouth. It had wanted his touch, his release. Her body was still humming, pleasantly sore damn- it.

She shouldn't be feeling like this. If her body was going to be sore, it should be sore in a painful sense. Not teasing her with each movement. Not making her think of him.

The lather of the shampoo slipped down her face, into her eyes. Eyes that stung as the lather hit them. A hoarse sob rang out in the bathroom as she let the tears fall from her eyes, let them mingle with the water from the shower wash down her body to the shower floor where they disappeared down the drain.

She wasn't crying, no she really wasn't. It was the shampoo in her eyes. That was what was really causing the tears. It was.

Perhaps it was the way her legs gave out, the way her inner thoughts lacked conviction or maybe it was the gut wrenching cries that she was unable to contain within.

Anger faded away. And all that she was left with was feelings of disgust, sadness, revulsion directed at herself. For giving in so easily. For not fight harder.

Anguish took over her body as she thumped her fists against the tiled wall, trying to deceive herself into believing that she was crying for the pain that was tearing through her hands and arms. The loud howls and cries faded away along with the pounding of her fists against the wall.

Weeping, her shoulders and entire body shook as she curled up in a small ball in the corner of her shower, alone, where no-one would know the hurt that he had caused her, where no-one could hear her pain.

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A/N: Well, it's been sitting on the computer for the last few days, but I wasn't completely happy with it, (still aren't) but I've gone over it several times and haven't made any changes because I'm not sure how to improve it, so I figured I'd post it so I can continue with Chapter Four, and if anything comes to me a bit later then I'll repost this chapter. And if your all wondering which bit I'm unhappy with, its the beginning. I was thrilled with the ending however, so that won't be changing any time soon.