Draco woke up to a moaning sound. It sounded like someone dying. There was also a rattling of. . .chains? He was feeling very light-headed and weak. He heard moaning again and when he got feeling back into his body he tried to make out where he was.

It was cold and damp. Draco was used to the cold but the moaning caught his attention. He could smell rotting skin or animals and something mouldy and a funny smell that made his skin prickle.

He was lying on what he suspected a wooden table, that hurt a great deal when the splinters dug into his skin, and he was chained to it. He opened his eyes with very much difficulty and saw three stone walls and where the fourth wall should be, there were thick bars about seventeen/twenty centimetres apart.

It was full of disgusting things like rats, spiders, dead insects, wasps even. There was almost no light except for the tiny barred window, the same as the fourth wall but the bars were closer together. It was full of disgusting things like rats, spiders, dead insects, wasps even. And above him was the skull-shaped head of a man.

Half his face was scarred with red burnt skin along with his throat and a third of his chest. It was a bright red which made it look like it only happened the day before. His right eye was closed, he probably couldn't open it and his nose was nearly chopped off but his mouth was fine, a bit scarred but not as badly as the rest.

The man blinked his uninjured eye and snorted. Draco half expected the man's nose to fall apart. The man was cleaning Draco's cut which hurt enormously when the dirty cloth was brushed against it. Draco kept his face set and spoke a question that had been in his mind ever since he woke up.

"Where am I?" he asked. The man looked surprised that Draco was moving, possibly because of his blood loss, but hardened his face when he answered the question.

"In the Pit of Despair," his voice was sharp and slow. It sounded like burning wood and rustling of leaves. He sure did sound like he was burnt. It had damaged his voice, leaving him with an vague but sharp noise. The man started coughing blood, falling to the floor and trying desperately to hold on the wooden table that Draco was lying on. Draco's right eyebrow raised in disgust as he watched the man fight his coughs.

"What the fuck d'you mean the Pit of Despair?" Draco enquired.

The man stopped coughing and washed his hands in a bowl of water at another table. He got back to Draco and looked like he was considering how to answer before he did. "You will be tortured until you give them some useful information and then they will decide your fate."

"Torture. . .I can handle that." Draco assured him in a brave tone.

The man looked at him with amusement. He shot him a look that a dad would give his son when he accidentally called him mom instead of dad.

"You are foolish, boy. No individual can stand our torturing for more than ten minutes. It is too frightening, our torturing. Not many know about it but it is true." His voice made Draco shiver. He wasn't used to even communicating with such ignorant people.

This man didn't know what Draco had been through with his Father. It was nothing but torture every day of his worthless life. Draco could count them off his fingers: Whipping, electric chair, cruciatus curse, the rack, the water wheel, the iron bed, the press-this had only happened once when Draco had insulted him at a Death Eater party-,The Heretic's Fork, and oh so many things more.

Draco had gotten used to it now. The only thing that frightened him were knives, which his father hadn't tortured him with.

"Why cure me when you're gonna torture me?" Draco asked suspiciously.

"I am a powwaw. It is my job to heal, friend or no," he replied.

"Who's 'they', anyway?"

The man was getting annoyed with all these questions but Draco didn't care. He was just a filthy healer who'd been burnt brutally. Maybe the English thought he was a 'Sorcerer' and had tried to burn him at the stake-Draco didn't know.

"The chief of Mahanett and his advisor," the man said, answering his question.

"That SON OF A BITCH!!!" Draco yelled as he remembered more clearly why he was there in this prison. He tried to sit up, but the chains held him back. He struggled to let himself loose but he was too weak. Spikes on the chains dug into his skin and he heard the rattling and the man's yelp of surprise. He lay back down in defeat.

"That fucking prick. What's the most common 'fate'?"

"Erm. . .I think it is putting hot iron on your eyes and put you in the Forest to die. . ."

*****

Escaping was much more difficult than she thought. She desperately wished that she had a broom. She didn't care if muggles saw her. She had her wand, yes, but she couldn't think of a spell to make her life easier. She had to walk a long, tiresome, walk. She didn't worry about anyone looking for her. They were probably all celebrating. Plucked Flower and The Highest were the only ones that would come looking for her but they were probably both too busy.

Plucked Flower, being the flirtatious person she was, was probably off flirting with all the young home comers.

The Highest was probably too busy welcoming the home comers and having fun. He and his Father, New Arrow, didn't go because the village needed them more than ever at this time of the generation.

Ginny had been walking for half a day, taking only three much-deserved stops. To keep herself going, she told herself that she was fatter than Crabbe and Goyle (which she was FAR from) and that she needed the exercise. But of course, it only lasted half a minute.

Ginny had started feeling uncomfortable in her deer skin clothes so she had fetched her old ones that she came in-a green cotton skirt that showed off her legs, white tights and a white oversized T-shirt that had once belonged to Ron.

It was almost dark when Ginny started suspecting that there was no life for miles and miles ahead because she had walked so far and found nothing at all. That was until she bumped into the most handsome young English man carrying water in two buckets on the way to his village.

The man was tall and had brown hair that reached his neck and his eyes were brown as well. He had a big charming smile which he showed off when Ginny bumped into him and fell flat on the back, her bag containing her food rolling on the ground, spilling a couple of apples and maize.

"Heck, watch where you're going would ya?" Ginny complained.

"I am very sorry, love. Here, let me help you up," the man said and offered a hand, but Ginny refused and got up on her own. She picked up her bag while remembering what her Mother always told her when Ginny wanted to go for a walk. "Don't trust any strangers, Ginny, dear, you never know what sort they are."

"S'there a village anywhere near here?" Ginny asked, keeping her distance.

"Yes there is. There is one just through the woods here and you will come to my home town. Shall I lead you there?" the man asked helpfully.

Ginny considered it for a moment in her head and then agreed, putting a hand in her skirt pocket just to make sure her wand was there in case of emergencies.

They didn't talk at all most of their journey. He probably didn't trust her because of the unusual clothing (to them, she noted) she wore. She didn't trust him simply because he was a stranger. She kept her hand on her wand the whole time. Although he didn't look like a horrible criminal, his kindness made her suspicious.

"So. . .where are you from?" he asked, the first time he spoke for nearly half an hour.

"Erm. . .Virginia?" Ginny used her own name, remembering what her mother had said about it. It was a state in America.

"Ah, Virginia. Such a lovely colony that is, do you not think?" the man asked her dreamily. "I stopped by there once while travelling with my family once. It is a very pleasant colony, it is. What is your name? I am Orlando. Orlando Hughes."

"Oh, I'm Ginny. Well, actually, Virginia. Virginia Weasley," Ginny replied, her doubt in him disappearing. "But people call me Ginny."

"That is a pretty name. We shall be there soon. Look, there is smoke."

Ginny looked ahead, trying to adjust her eyes to see clearly in the dark, but failed.

"I can't see it. I'm not used to the dark." Ginny explained regretfully.

"Ah, always bright in Virginia isn't it? Brighter than here it is anyway. I collect water every day so I am quite used to it."

Ginny gave him a weak smile, looking straight ahead. Soon the village came to view, a large sign saying Plymouth in front of it.

"You live in Plymouth?" Ginny asked taken aback. She had heard of Plymouth. Very famous town.

"Aye. My parents and my brother visited Plymouth a few years ago when we were travelling. We have been here ever since." He gave a little laugh. His laugh was light-hearted and made her want to laugh with him.

They reached the gate and Orlando opened it. It was a small gate, welcoming anyone to come in. The village, however, was big. It was twice the size of the Tykharma (the tribe that she ran away from) village, which said a lot. There weren't very many people out. Just some fetching a chicken or doing some errands. Ginny suspected that it was dinner time. Her stomach was grumbling like mad.

"Do you want to come in?" Orlando invited as he opened the door to his house.

"Oh yes, please." Ginny said thankfully.

"You can stay for the night. . .if you like," Orlando invited again, holding the door open for her to step in. "The wife and I will not mind. I only have one brother living with me. My parents live down the road." He jerked his head in the direction of his parents' house and closed the door behind them.

Orlando's house was big, but cosy. It was a wooden house, like most of them were. Ginny guessed that he was rich for his house was bigger than most were.

"Jennifer! Set the table for four! We have a guest!" Orlando bellowed to someone. He put the water on the floor and took his shoes off. "Jennifer is my wife," he explained. "And with a house as big as this, she has to work extremely hard to keep it in good condition. To tell you the truth, we need a servant, but no one will do it." He gave a deep sigh.

"I'll do it. . .if I get paid," Ginny offered, taking her shoes and coat off and putting it on a hook.

Orlando looked quite surprised. "I have never heard of a woman ask a man for pay," he said.

"Well, now you have."

Orlando sighed. "You are a brave girl. But since we really need someone, then alright. How much do you want to be paid?" he asked.

"A galleon a day?" Ginny suggested.

"Excuse me?" Orlando looked at her as if she had totally lost it. 'A galleon of what?' his eyes said.

"Oh, erm. . .what can you pay me?" Ginny blushed furiously, remembering that she wasn't in the 1990's anymore.

"We could pay you with food, clothing, we can give you some nails and whatever you think is appropriate for the amount of work you have done for us."

"Oh, OK. Let me think about it," Ginny enquired, trying to hide her face that was turning redder than her hair, hiding her freckles.

"Alright. Now you must be hungry. I most certainly am. Let us eat, then," Orlando said, Ginny's blushing face passing by him like it happened every day that girls acted really stupid.

Ginny followed him into the kitchen where his wife, Jennifer, was standing behind a chair, waiting for everyone to come. Jennifer was a fair woman, her brown curly hair braided and a cap that would simply look silly in her own time. She wore a brown dress with an apron round her waist and she was barefoot.

"Hello, child. And whoever might you be?" she asked politely.

"I'm Ginny, your new servant," Ginny replied as politely as she could manage.

"Oh, Orlando, you brought a servant! How wonderful!" Jennifer clapped her hands together in delight.

"And she is a very brave girl, she is. She asked to be paid," Orlando said from behind Ginny.

"Well, that will not be a problem, will it? We are quite wealthy if I do say so myself."

Ginny smiled with relief. She was so lucky she had ended up with them. A loving woman, a kind man and. . .

There were footsteps behind them and a boy at around eighteen appeared in the doorway. He looked like Orlando, only he was a little smaller and looked much more alive. Ginny suddenly felt her heart beat harder, she felt wobbly and warm inside. Ginny realised that she had a huge crush on him.

"Oh, Ginny, this is my brother, Alexander. Alexander, this is Ginny, our new servant.

. . .and the hunk of the year.

A/N: I'm really sorry how boring this chapter is but I had to get this over and done with! OK I'm not going to get dramatical about this (again) but please be so kind to review *big sad puppy eyes*! Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeez!!!!

Toodles!