Disclaimer: I don't own any of this, just the plot. If I did own this, I would be very rich and everybody would know my name.

Ring Around The Rosy

Ring around the rosy,

pocket full of posies,

ashes ashes,

we all fall down.

I guess you really couldn't call it a 'ring around the rosy'. It wasn't a ring, and there was definitely nothing rosy about it. It was an ugly mark that signified unworthiness and imperfection. Almost all of us were given the mark, that's why almost all of us didn't survive. There were ways not to get it though, just not that many. If you were a pureblood, there was a good chance that you wouldn't get the mark. If you were a muggle born, you most likely wouldn't live long enough to even get the mark. Or maybe if you worked at the Ministry, but then again, you had to be well known. If you were the head of a department and were willing to give them valuable information, you and your family were both spared. Or maybe if you were of one of them, the ones who did his bidding, if you could call it that, you weren't hurt. But being a pureblood wasn't all of it, my whole family was full of them and we all got the mark. You had to be what he considered a 'worthy one'. All that meant was that you didn't have any positive contact with muggles or muggle borns.

It was nothing like a real 'pocket full of posies'. There weren't that many ways to make life easier, especially if you were given the mark. It helped if you were with your family, being alone wasn't a good thing. Many of us went mad from being alone, not having anyone you know to talk to. But that doesn't mean that we were allowed to just talk about whatever we liked, whenever we liked. You couldn't talk if they put you to work, there were no House Elves. We were the house elves; we cleaned and cooked, along with other things. You could almost be considered lucky if one of the Death Eaters liked you. That meant you had a chance of living, and maybe even a chance off being free. Although the chances of getting away were slim to none, slim getting ready to pack its bags, they were still chances. We all found ways to have a good time, most of them didn't exactly work that well, but it was nice for the short time that they did.

Nobody was ever burnt. I think it was considered too much of a muggle thing to do. There were other ways to get rid of us, even more to torture us. After they killed someone they usually just transfigured the body into some inanimate object, usually something that could just be thrown away. I'd seen it happen, one minute they're lying on the ground, and the next, they were just a twig. But torturing, that was a totally different thing. Obviously Crutatious was a popular one, the feeling of knives poking every part of your body. I doubt anything could've felt worse. Unless it was watching someone you know getting tortured, it hurt even more if it was your family being tortured. I should know. There were other ways of torture, hexes, curses, a few potions, but not that many. Being killed was probably the best thing that could happen to you if you had the mark. Avada Kedavra was a good one, probably the most used out of them all. Instant death, sounds fun, doesn't it? In few cases they poisoned you, but that wasn't done often.

How many "all fell down" you may ask? Lots, more than I could ever count in a million years. I think over three thousand in all, and that's just in Britain. Most parts of Europe were attacked, Australia and Africa too. Those were the only places I'd heard about, but I bet there were more. Actually, I know there were more. There had to be. He recruited Death Eaters around the world and over half of them were killed. The rest were either put in Azkaban, or they got away. If I had anything to do with it, they all would've been tortured and killed. They should've been punished for what they did. But no, they weren't. And that's why I, Ginny Weasley, am the last Weasley.