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I came to consciousness in a dim lit room. I was lying across a grey, fabric couch, in a lavish room. In the back of my mind, I noticed that the couch was quite comfortable. Covering the floor was a plush white carpet, which looked to be made out of sheepskin. On the wall that I could see there was a landscape of a city street at night, a cobble stoned street, with street lamps lighting up the street. On both sides of the landscape, there was a candelabra, each holding four candles, and though I racked my brain, I did not know where I was. My head was unbelievably heavy, and when I tried to move I found that my limbs simply couldn't move at all, though there was nothing binding me. "A freezing charm," a low, smooth male voice said. My head snapped up, but I couldn't see who was speaking. I growled in fury at my captor.

"So you're a feisty one." The speaker came into view. He was a tall boy whom I vaguely recognised, although I could not match a name to his face. He was incredibly handsome, with short wavy dark hair, high cheekbones, a full mouth, and blue eyes. I hated him immediately.

"On the contrary," my voice was hard, "I am not a one and since I was abducted. I think I have quite the reason to be feisty."

The boy laughed, he had a rich laugh. "Oh darling, we will have so much fun together." He approached me and brushed his fingers lightly across my cheekbone.

"Take. Your. Hands. Off. Of. Me." I pronounced every syllable, I felt the blood rush to my cheeks, in my anger. He only smiled, infuriating me even more.

After a moment, I snapped, "Why are you doing this?" I tried my best to hide my anger, but I don't think he bought it. I struggled to move, it was to no avail.

"Darling I thought it would have been obvious." His voice sounded almost disappointed in me.

"Are you going to rape me?"

"I truly still have not decided, for you are surprisingly pretty for a mudblood." So he was a mudblood hater. Fabulous. Exactly what I needed.

"Mudblood is quite the offensive word there." I raised an eyebrow at him, hiding my emotions underneath a mask of calm.

"It is just stating the truth." was his smooth reply. "For darling, your blood is far from pure."

"Pure in your sense." I was starting to get even more irate. "For darling," I said, imitating him, he smirked, he seemed to truly enjoy my anger. "If we were to both draw blood, and compare it there would be no difference." My vexation was evident in my voice. His smirk only widened into a smile.

He pulled out his wand and waved it making me sit up. He came and sat beside me and skimmed his fingers against my jawline. He then leaned in and lightly pressed his lps to my cheek. Snarled at him, cursing the fact that I could not move.

"For any other," he said, "I would torture them for being a mudblood, for their impurity. But you dearest, are different."

"In what way?" I asked through clenched teeth.

"I see something different."

"Oh joy." I said sarcastically. "Where are we?" I snapped.

"So many questions." He murmured. He put a hand on my jawline and tilted my face towards his, he then proceeded to press his lips to mine. He lightly ran his tongue on the seam of my lips. It would have been pleasant if this were at my consent. I made a sound of anger in the back of my throat. I was furious. Here I was being abused, and I couldn't even move! That I didn't even know my abusers name! I felt my face flush in fury. The nerve!

My abuser leaned back against the grey fabric of the couch, his lips leaving mine. A smile curling the ends of his mouth when he saw my expression of pure outrage.

"Who even are you?" I gasped, catching my breath.

"Call me Andrew."

"Well Andrew let me be very clear in the fact that I would rather be tortured than raped," and this was the truth.

"Well then, it's a shame you don't have a choice." He reached out a long-fingered hand and ran it along my torso. I struggled against the spell that was holding me, but it was to no satisfaction, the spell still held as strong as it had ever been. I was good and trapped.

"Why this?" I asked him angrily. "Does it make you feel strong? In control? Like a man?"

Andrew did not answer, he just raised his hand, and backhanded me against my cheek. It hurt. A lot. I bit back my cry though not without effort. "You will learn to control yourself, or you will find yourself in a very bad predicament." His voice was rough.

I am already in a bad predicament. I wanted to spit, but the pain in my cheek convinced me against doing so.

"Now," he said, his voice composed and smooth as satin. "Let us practice your self control." He reached out and unbuttoned the top button of my school robe. With a wave of his wand, I was floating through the air. The other side of the room contained a king sized bed, I was plopped upon it. I eagerly tried to move, but alas it was once again to no avail. Andrew came and joined me on the bed. I felt like screaming and crying, but I knew it would do nothing to help me. I only hoped and prayed to be freed. One small gasp left me, and nothing more, and for this I was proud.

Thanks so much for reading! Please don't forget to drop a comment, letting me know what you think! Stay tuned for the next chapter!

Until next time

-Lyla R