It was midday before anyone stirred within the cottage. Twelve wizards and witches were crammed into the tiny ground floor room, draped awkwardly across broken down furniture. I was the only unlucky one to have had to sleep directly on the floor, although at a minimum I'd been the closest to the fire all night. Ron had stepped on me repeatedly while refilling it, hardly muttering any apologies.

Ginny was kicking my shoulder to pull me away from my dreams, "Get up. You're going into the field with Neville to evaluate your skills away from the safehouse. It's going to be a long walk, so put these on." She dropped a pair of boots by my head, causing me to jump. She also dropped an extremely outdated army uniform from the second muggle world war which had obviously come from the sea fort. The stiff clothes were an awful shade between military green and sludge brown. The clothing would be very large and unsightly on my tiny frame, but I was grateful to have anything to change into besides the white gown, which was arguably not even white at all anymore.

After I'd changed, Neville sent me a nod to follow him outside and passed me an apple for the walk. The day was damp and foggy with the promise of spring coming. The sounds of birds chirping flittered around the landscape and smells of sweet rot and awakening plants hung heavy in the air. Neville walked briskly on the dirt lane and I struggled to maintain my pace beside him in the boots which were too big on my feet.

"So you really don't remember anything about your life at Hogwarts?" He asked suspiciously, and I met his brown eyes with contempt.

"Obviously not," I said in a clipped tone, "You idiots obliviated me, remember?"

"Harry said it was for your own good," he argued with me, looking defensive. The sound of our shoes sliding against pebbles and dust scraped between us.

I studied Neville's figure as he marched, his arms swinging with intent. He was still in the lousy Christmas sweater from the day before and his face was covered in dirt.

"Harry Potter?" I asked in awe, suddenly stopping on the lane. Neville turned abruptly to watch me falter, "Harry Potter? Is dat who's leading dis group?"

Neville nodded looking sad and contemplative, "He's somewhere in London right now, trying to track Lucius Malfoy down. That's Malfoy's father, probably quite a bit worse than Draco. I haven't seen much of him, but I've heard he's nothing short of pure evil."

I swallowed, shocked that I knew Harry Potter in person. He'd even saved me from my kidnapping. Slowly we began walking again as I planned my next question. The sun was no where to be seen, shrouded by a thick haze above our heads. The clouds looked angry and heavy, and any moment it was sure to rain.

"So...Malfoy and I are married?" I prodded in a faint voice. Neville looked instantly ill at the topic.

"I suppose so..." he said wearily, "All I know is what Harry told me. Something about you being forced into it all because of a bequeathment mark on your neck. Apparently he-he..." I watched Neville choke on his words with searing embarrassment.

"He what? What's a bequeathment mark?" I begged.

Neville looked pale, "Well as far I know, you got it from taking his, uh, virginity. You were bound by an unbreakable vow to marry him or you would die. Harry said he must've raped you for it and that you were too afraid to ask for help."

My heart was pounding with every word that he said. I was shocked. Had my parents known? Were they at my wedding? How could this all be allowed to occur so casually at a school like Hogwarts?

For the first time since I'd met him Neville shot me a sympathetic look, "He almost got away with it all too, but a few of us chased his car down before he could take you out of the country. He thought he could avoid being traced by not using magic to move you. He didn't know you'd survived the accident until yesterday."

I was silent for the rest of the walk, recounting everything I now knew. I had been in a coma for almost a year in the magic-reducing shackles, hidden from his knowledge. I had been obliviated because I'd been raped, forcibly married and kidnapped. My sense of self worth plummeted as I realized how pathetic the entire affair was when it was summarized. I'd always felt powerful, seductive, and commanding. How could I have allowed something so stupid to happen?

We had followed the farmer's lane for almost an hour before we stopped in front of a field and Neville walked through the ditch and into the muddy terrain. He peered through the fog around the distant edges of the meadow where trees clustered randomly. It was quiet and calm, no signs of other life save for a few birds in the sky. He seemed to be pleased enough with the isolation and he pulled out his wand, pointing them at the shackles.

They clicked, and the metal fell apart on both arms. I gasped when he jammed his wand into my jugular suddenly, "No funny business, Madeleine. We need your help and I want to trust you. Can I?" His handsome face was now threatening as he leaned close towards me. I nodded pathetically, deciding to truly help and cooperate.

"I want my revenge," I clarified in a squeaky voice, "I will 'elp you take 'im out."

"Good," Neville said and lowered the outstretched weapon. He put his hand into his pocket, producing another wand, "It's not yours, but it should be fine enough." I was briefly reminded that his wand was also borrowed, given that Malfoy had blasted his into the ocean.

I took it carefully, turning the sad wood over to analyze it. It was indeed not my wand. Mine had been a bright, pale wood with elegant swirls along the base. This one was nondescript and didn't seem to spark much connection in my fingers.

"Hermione says you're a Veela," Neville interrupted my thought process. I hardly had time to wonder who Hermione was as he pressed on, "Well, partially. She says you were unlocking powers, like being able to produce blue flames or see visions of the future."

I must have looked frightfully puzzled because he sighed, looking defeated already. I had never shown any sort of special skills due to my ancestry, apart from being able to charm boys quite well.

"I don' know..." I began to surmise, feeling useless already, "I 'ave never done any of dat. At least, not dat I would recall."

The first inklings of rain had begun to sprinkle down on our bodies. Now that I was in proper clothing I was grateful for the cooling and cleansing effect that it was providing on my hair. The closest thing to a shower that I'd had since waking up from the coma was the boat ride to shore the night before.

He stepped back, twisting the wand in his hands around restlessly, "I'm just gonna let you try to conjure something. Let me know if you need anything. We shouldn't leave you out of the shackles for too long in case Malfoy shows up again."

I pressed my lips together feeling at a complete loss, standing there in a bulky military uniform like an underfed soldier. I wasn't entirely sure what they expected me to do. The idea that I'd been developing odd powers before gave me some semblance of hope that I could renew my confidence but I had no idea where to start.

I held my hands out in front of me, feeling burning indignation as Neville stole expectant glances at me. He was pacing around a few yards away from me, his eyes flickering around the perimeters of the field as though expecting Malfoy to appear at any moment.

Nothing conjured in my hands. I bored my eyes into them as though that would improve the circumstances. I could feel my magic buzzing in my veins again like gentle electric currents, but nothing more than usual.

After at least twenty minutes had passed Neville shook his head, "You don't remember how to do it."

I narrowed my eyes at him, "Great observation."

There was a long pause between us, and then I cried loudly as the crest on my neck burnt me again. When he saw my hand shoot to my neck Neville paled vividly. He rushed to my side and fumbled with the shackles. He'd managed to get one on when it was verified that he was too late.

The familiar crack of lightning erupted around us as Malfoy appeared once again, looking like a prince of darkness. I dropped the wand from my hand in immediate terror. There was a large swirl of black smoke several meters away in the field where he'd just apparated to. His robes waved behind him as he abruptly approached us.

Neville held his wand up to cast but Malfoy beat him to it, "Avada Kedavra!" He shouted the killing spell without hesitation, and Neville dropped to the mud with lifeless eyes before me. The rain did little to mask my sobs of horror.

I stepped back several feet and clamped a hand to my mouth in disbelief. I had never witnessed murder before and was completely unprepared for how sudden it had occurred. Malfoy reached my trembling body and he shot his hand out to twist it in the collar of the ridiculous military uniform, ripping my face towards his, "Don't fight with me." He commanded it menacingly and I blanched as his eyes ripped into mine. Without the protective ward of Fort Maunsell he would be able to capture me again.

The world around us twisted and distorted, and I fell to my knees to vomit as we reappeared somewhere entirely different. It was no longer raining but the same cold fog hovered in the new landscape as well. I shook on my hands against the stony gravel below me.

His dress shoes were before my eyes as he glared down at the display of sickness, "Get up. Now."

When I didn't make any effort to stand his fingers dug into the back of my hair and he forced me up. I shrieked from the cruel gesture and blinked through tears up at a large set of cast-iron gates.

We were at some kind of god awful castle. It loomed at the end of a long gravel pathway that had tall hedges on either side. The building stood with an impressive aura of terror, black walls that rose several stories into the sky did very little to provide any sense of invitation.

He pushed me forward down the pathway, his fingers on my spine, only pausing long enough to wandlessly cast open the double doors. I was escorted roughly up four floors of cold stone stairs, catching glimpses of portraits, shields and suits of armor, odd paintings of landscapes... The house and it's décor seemed ancient, as though it had not been redecorated since the Victorian era.

He threw me into a room and slammed the door behind us. I choked through tears from where I had fallen to the carpet, having been too weak to remain standing from the push inwards. The room was cave-like and dark, and even though it was the middle of the day I squinted desperately to make out the furniture around me.

He walked to where several candles were mounted to the walls and lit them. I struggled to breath calmly, fully expecting him to take no hesitation with punishing me. He walked over to me and I cowered below him. He knelt, placing his hand on his knee to scrutinize me. His eyes were incredibly blue, bright and piercing. Judgement seeped across his gorgeous features, "You're absolutely putrid, what have they been doing to you? You will shower before I come back." His voice was deep and aristocratic, and I sensed it was not a request in any way. It was an order.

My eyes slid down to the filthy military uniform and my matted hair. He snorted, and flicked at the material near my jaw. "What is this muggle shit? Potter trying to make a soldier out of my wife?"

"I don' know anything about 'arry Potter," I defended.

I whimpered in fear as his eyes suddenly darkened, "Yes you do, don't lie to me. Tell me Madeleine; all this time you've been with those peasants, have you been unfaithful to me?" My eyes met his at the sudden confrontation and I felt my bottom lip trembling slightly.

I wouldn't remember even if I had been, but what he did next implied that I looked guilty in my silence. He shocked me by slapping me with an open hand and a horrible burning pain blossomed on my cheek. He left me no time to react, wrenching my chin up to look into his eyes. His nose was practically touching mine, "I won't ask you again. Have you fucked someone else? Potter perhaps? Think you can hide your infidelity?" His breath was in my face, hot and combative. His voice shook only slightly, with what seemed like genuine fear of the notion.

I considered my options, and decided to go with honesty out of the possibility that he would invade my mind. I had no idea what he was capable of, and making him any more angry was probably not a good idea. "I-I don't know," I whispered, "I was obliviated."

His face twisted into an arrogant sneer, "Hmm. Convenient. I suppose that's what your answer will also be regarding why you ran away and hid with them for a year." I could tell he thought I was lying about something, or had somehow betrayed him, but I was still trying to piece together the whole picture with minute details from both sides.

"It is de truth!" I barked up at him, "I don' remember you, I don' remember 'arry Potter. I can't tell you anything unless you want to know about my life two years ago."

He stood and baulked at the suggestion, "Two fucking years? He took two years from you? When did this happen, literally now?"

I shook my head in equal disbelief of the statement as my tears dried on my cheeks, speaking in a far away voice, "I woke up yesterday, from a coma. I only remember France from before..." It was quiet as his hand hovered over his mouth, his eyes shut hard. Obviously the prospect of my mind being entirely wiped of him was not a pleasant one.

My hand grazed my burning cheek as I looked down at the fibers of the silvery carpet, waiting for him to reply. I heard him sigh deeply. His voice was low and dark when he spoke again, and I noticed he was finding it hard to look directly at me, "Well, that's unfortunate. It's going to make tonight's responsibilities a lot more uncomfortable. For both of us."

I gaped up at him, almost too afraid to ask. "What responsibilities?"

He raised an eyebrow, "You have duties as my wife and you would do well to remember them. My father will not accept us failing to produce an heir, and trust me when I say this - you do not want to enrage him."

I banged my fist into the carpet, "You would not. I will not." My voice shook unsteadily as I tried to appear tough.

He frowned down at me and I saw a flicker of discomfort in his eyes, "You can make it worse for us both or you can behave. Neither of us have a choice in the matter. I'll have alcohol sent up here for you to calm your nerves, for old time's sake. Just don't...black out."

With that he was gone out the door and I sat heaving in air, dreading the coming evening. Oddly, I felt myself wishing I was back in the care of the Order. Even though they hadn't been much kinder to me they at least had not threatened me the way he just had. It didn't matter that he was literally gorgeous, the fact that he was giving me no choice petrified me. I slowly lowered myself onto the silver carpet, staring up at the ceiling with morbid dread and feeling hot tears pooling in my ears.