"Baby steps. It's that first feeling of trying something new. Something you've never done before. It's thrilling, and exciting, because the more you practice, the more you know how to do it correctly. At one point, the gears start turning, and it clicks. Once you've mastered one step at a time, you can learn to run."

Chapter 7

This is odd. I can feel my arms wrenched up against my back, and I'm tied to a long wooden stake that reaches up into the sky. The clothes I have on are loose fitting around my body, and they're as white as snow. Me feet are bare, and they almost match the color of my dressings.

And then, I look up, and take in the crowd around me. Normally, I'd think they'd be flooding the streets to see me, because of my name...with smiles on their faces and little pads of paper in their hands, but this isn't the case. Instead, everyone...as far as I can see...is dressed in medieval attire. Long, flowy long sleeved dresses and hats adorned with feathers. And they're all...all...scowling at me.

No, scowl is not the right word...glare is more like it. Their eyes, all of them...are like daggers, piercing into me as cold and relentless as anything can be. Some of them are even shouting and throwing things onto the platform I'm standing on.

"You evil witch! You'll burn in Hell for the sins you've commited!"

A unforgiving voice, and then something blasts onto the right side of my cheek. It's cold and slimey, and bits of it are running down my face. Some people start to laugh...and then I realize that they're laughing at me...at what I must look like with this stuff hanging on my face. I wish I could reach up to wipe it off, but I can't. My hands are too tightly bound together with rope. It even hurts to simply squirm from side to side.

The sudden sound of boots rapping against the wood takes me off guard. Then, moments later, I see a heavyset man, and one behind him, wearing a black mask over his face. They both move up onto the platform and towards me a bit before stopping. The older heavyset man with robes down to his knees eyes me with disgust, like I am some type of infectious disease. A moment later, he speaks.

"Everyone...everyone, quiet! Hush now."

And just like that, as if he were a supreme leader, they all fall silent after a matter of seconds.

There's a loud cough...and then...

"Now. We all know why we're here today. Does someone want to...," he pauses to turn and look at me again, that same revolted expression covering his face, "Tell this woman right here why she is here?"

There's a loud burst of all kinds of inaudible screams, but I'm able to make out the comments coming from the people standing just below the platform.

"She's a witch!"

"She practices evil, and talks with the Devil herself!"

"It's the hellfire for her!"

Their words send streams of panic and intemidation right through me as they solidify around my heart.

What? No, no, no! I may be a witch...but I'd never ever dream of hurting any-

The smell of burnt tobacco fills my nose and I rotate my head, noticing the man right in front of me this time. His face is too close to mine, and his words are laced with the most deadly of poisons.

"Do you hear what they're calling you, girl? Do you know what this means?"

I try to speak...oh, I try to...but when my mouth opens, nothing comes out. I can feel my lips moving up and down, but all there is...is silence. I can't even defend myself against this mad crowd.

The man backs away and snaps his fingers through his gloves, and a torch his placed into his hand.

Torch means...

Fire.

Oh, and I can see it. It's burning against the wood...so brightly.

"Any last words before you're sent out of this world?"

And I try once again...just one more time, to say anything. In my mind, I'm screaming innocence, and I'm pleading with my eyes, but nothing processes. The old man's eyes are still as hard as ever, and people start to cheer when he proceeds closer to me. My body flinches violently, and I try one last time...and put every bit of fight I have to getting out of the binds. But it's useless. They're far too tight.

This is it.

His eyes gleam with hatred...and his skin, wait...

Wait!

His skin keeps getting paler...almost ghostlike.

But my gaze is averted when I feel flames licking near the soles of my feet. Looking down, I notice the embers beginning to pop as the flames get a bit bigger. I continue to struggle, even though I know it's pointless.

My impending death is accompanied by sounds of sick cheers.

And then I feel it.

There are no words to describe the pain.

So...hot...it must be thousands of degrees.

Tiny little needles stab into my feet.

No...no, please, NO!

And a familiar cold sweat breaks out onto my back.

I scream pure agony.

It's the only thing I know.

The screams shake me awake, and I'm staring at the ceiling, feeling my nightgown stick to my damp back. The moonlight floods in through the window across the room and is a warm reminder that everything I has just dreamt of...was just that. A dream.

But the fact of the matter stands...

I'm alone.

Forced to suffer the same nightmare four nights in a row by myself. No one comes to check on me, even though I'm nearly positive my screams are being heard. There's no way the walls of this place can be that thick.

I try to calm down a bit and roll onto my side, running my fingers through my messy hair.

The only time someone ever does come in here is when I'm given a bit of food. It's not a lot, but it's not revolting either. Just usually a small bowl of soup, a piece of bread and cheese, and then pumpkin juice is what I get.

Not the best tasting, but I eat it anyway.

And when I'm not eating, I'm just sitting around, either on the floor, or laying on my back, staring up at the ceiling...I'm always trying to find something to do. Boredom seems to be my only friend.

There wasn't anything in here. No books, no radio, not even bloody paper to write on. It made sense though, Being captive meant that I had no rights to any sort of entertainment. That's the whole point of being under someone elses control...they get to decide what you do and do not do.

This was driving me mad...I had to stop thinking.

Well...what could I do?

A light groan emitted from my throat and I flipped back around on the bed, glancing at the bathroom and the small tub that was inside.

That's it. A bath would help me.

Slowly, my feet touch the floor and I stand, wandering casually over to the bathroom and shut the door behind me.

There's a cool draft and I grimace a bit as I shed my clothes, tossing them onto the floor and lean over to turn the taps on.

Sliding in isn't so bad. It's the sitting down and staying is what's brutal to me. I guess I turned the knobs too far, because the water is almost too hot for me to bear. It's like feeling that fire again in my dream. Consuming and overpowering.

Oh, stop it. It's just water, for crying out loud.

A grim smile appears on my face and I lather quickly.

Yes...it is.

Why am I freaking out exactly?

If they were going to do something to me...obviously they would have already done it. Right? Makes sense.

No, it doesn't.

...Really?

Stupid mind. My negative thoughts are growing in leaps and bounds.

I just sit there for a while before turning off the taps as the water reaches the brim and lean my head back a bit.

As mental as it sounds, this is the best I've felt in days.

…...

Knocking. There's knocking at the door.

I'm sure of it.

I literally leap out of the tub and quickly lift up the lever to drain the remaining water while grabbing a neary towel, wrapping it around myself.

The rapping gets louder and more persistant.

"Open up in there!"

It's...his voice.

What was his name again? Something with an R...

Ron, you daft girl.

Oh, that's right...Ron.

I practically throw on the first decent shirt and pair of pants I see, smoothing them out before hurrying to the door. A smirk pulls on my lips and I lean my head against the door.

"Who is it?"

A moment of silence. And then-

"Just open the door."

This is fun. I actually have power of them, and it's not the other way around.

"And why should I do that?"

There's that silence again. All I can hear is a bit of strained breathing.

Suddenly, the lock on the knob twists and the door opens, revealing a rather hard faced, messy haired, ginger boy. His eyes are blank. I couldn't even read him if I tried.

I can't help the smirk that sneaks onto my mouth.

He notices his his expression becomes a bit harder and strides in, shutting the door closed with a simple flick of his wand.

"I dunno what's so damn funny."

I play off a shrug and sidestep him, roaming over to the window and look out. It's sunny, and seemingly warm, despite it being December. There are people walking out on the streets with nothing but jackets on. Weird, especially for Britain at this time of year. I take in the quietness to prepare for a response.

"So, you've finally had the nerve to come and see me?"

My comment is apparently, very amusing to him, because he bellows out a laugh and grabs at his stomach. I scowl and turn to face him, crossing my arms.

I barely know him, and already his laugh has some kind of irritating effect on me.

"Now it's my turn. What on earth is so hilarious?"

It takes a few minutes for the stupid git to get it together, but he does and I catch him wiping a tear from his eye.

"Nothin'. I just think it's funny that you think I don't have any balls to come see you face to face. I mean, why wouldn't I?"

I have no answer to that.

So, I simply shrug again silently and glance back around out the window. The building across the street is spitting out white smoke.

"Alright, so," Ron says, moving a bit towards me, "We need to talk, you and me."

My gaze remains out the window.

"It's I, not me."

He ignored me and cleared his throat. I supposed that meant for me to turn around, and face him, because he didn't say anything else. So, I did.

"First things first...blood status?"

"I'm a Pureblood."

He raises an eyebrow and leans against my bedpost.

"Oh yeah? What are your parents' names, then?"

My eyes narrow slightly.

"Why do you want to know...?"

"Just a backround check. Relax a bit, will ya?"

I laugh bitterly, pinpointing my gaze with his.

"Relax? Right...because I would be perfectly comfortable with sitting around here, while knowing the people who kidnapped me are in the same house as me."

There's a mix between frustration...and something else. I can't place it.

"Don't spend your time worrying about whether we're gonna do something to you or not, cause we won't. We're not like the other people."

My eyebrows arch involuntarily. What is he trying to say here?

"Other people...?"

Ron curses ever so softly to himself and rubs the bridge of his nose while squinting his eyes closed.

"Look, just tell me who you're parents are."

I want to keep pushing, to demand to know what he means...but I eventually just

give up. If he's going to ignore me once, then why would he listen to me a second time?

Sighing, the answer pushes past my lips quietly.

"Edward and Jane Burns. Look it up, if you have to. They're good people."

I notice a pad of paper and quill slowly encircling him; the quill quickly scribbling down my answer.

"Alright. Next...any siblings?"

...What is the point of this? Is he going to go to my family's homes and send them bloody balloons or something?

My long pause makes him scowl, which brightens his cheeks into a deep scarlett and repeats himself.

"Any siblings?"

There's no point in fighting him. I'm gaining nothing...no response, no expression, just...nothing.

"Ruby Burns Malfoy. Her husband is-"

"Ah, so your sister is married to Malfoy? That's a punishment. Which one?"

I can hardly believe the amusement in his voice. I stutter a bit, trying to put my thoughts into words.

"S...Sam."

"Mhm...alright."

Another long wave of silence. He's looking over the pad, his eyebrows furrowed together for some reason. I study the lines across his face, and the dull black bags underneath his eyes. I wonder why he hasn't been sleeping much.

He must have caught my stare, because a loud cough echoed through the room and when I look back at him, his blue eyes are plunging into mine. I look away quickly, tugging at the ends of my sleeve.

"Okay, well, you can...uh, just stay in here..for a bit. I'm gonna go get Harry and then we're gonna ask more questions."

I roll my eyes in response.

"Great."

Ron's eyes light up with something. Maybe it's anger. I don't know. I don't know him, but either way, he stares at me for a few seconds more, and I feel myself faulter under his gaze. Like the outer layers of myself are falling away.

He leaves me in the room and shuts the door behind him. I let out a groan as well as I sigh and slide against the wall, putting my head in my hands.

And so, this is what I realize. I have to tell them anything...anything they want to know. Because otherwise, since now they know my family...they could hurt them...and I won't allow that. At all.

Stop being dramatic. You've been through worse.

I have, really?

I don't think so.

I've never had to go anything like this. My life has been luxury, living in the most wonderful house, and getting everthing I wanted.

Literally, it felt like my whole life...everything was handed to me. I didn't even know how to clean a bathroom sink, since I never did chores.

So...maybe this was the worst thing to ever happen to me.

I feel helpless...and I guess that's because, well, I can't change the situation.