They say you can close your eyes to reality, but not to memories…

Breathing was no longer possible. There was no air to breathe…no reason to breathe. If the purpose of staying alive was to no longer live, then why bother. Nothing mattered, not the stench of decay, or the icy cold wind. Not the mutterings of ones gone crazed, or the birds flying out a solitary window. The earth moved on, but in side…everything was still.

Draco stared out the small window for Merlin only knew how long. He saw many suns and moons, stars and gray skies. There were times when he felt as if there was nothing outside, but the sky. That the earth had turned into a vast desert since his incarceration. He smelled, he was hungry, he felt dirty, but most of all, he ached.

For days he would lay on a ground that smelled of decay and vomit. His mind would swim and his eyes would water from staring at the same spot on the ceiling for hours and hours on end. There would be idle chatter, or yelling, between him and Moody. Whether it was about the importance of being stuck in a small prison, or the fact that Draco was an idiot, there was always something to talk about. Draco sometimes wouldn't even realize he was asleep until Moody would wake him up with one of his theories again: You know, I could have sworn there was a loose brick; you're small enough to fit in it…

Then there was mealtime. Oh, he hated it when the Death Eaters came and shoved food at them. How they would ridicule him as he ate his food hungrily. It was alright however, some soup and a piece of bread, no drink. Then again, he wouldn't complain and swallow everything with out chewing. Yet, after all the sunsets, and sunrises that went by, he missed Ginny the most.

He would stare at the redhead as she slept. That was the only time he could get himself to look at her. Then again, he hardly ever saw her. She would disappear when the sun would go down and wouldn't be back for many more. Then, when it was time to wake up after the fourth or fifth sunrise, there she was, lying in her cell, facing the other direction. That's when he would stare at her. For as long as he could, he would soak Ginny in, even though he never saw her face. He knew she was beautiful, and as long as she was there, and not gone with the Death Eaters he was ok, and he knew she was too.

Draco stared at her head. Her hair was so long now, almost to her shoulders. It really made Draco think how long they had been there. Then his eyes would look at her body. She was so ridged when she slept, as if she was constantly afraid someone was near her. Her dress ripped and torn all over, leaving parts of her body exposed; her neck was red with bleeding scratches. It those moments Draco wished he could hold her. Yet, if she ever woke up, he would turn his back, not trusting himself to look at her.

It was a mixture of love, anger, and betrayal in his eyes as he stared at her. He knew that she felt like she had to do it, but she didn't. Draco's promise all those months ago was complete and utter bullocks. He loved her more than anything in the world; a war wasn't going to break them. It didn't the first time, it wasn't supposed to this time. The blond remembers the long harsh months searching for Ginny. How he would go from town to town, asking every single one of his contacts if they had seen her. Draco wouldn't sleep for days at a time, because searching for Ginny was all he cared about. The only reason he stopped was because Molly had begged him. That's it. He didn't care for Dumbledore's warnings, or Potter's bitching. If Molly hadn't shown up at his tavern door, with tears in her eyes, he would have kept on looking.

Ginny was always right there…all the time. She watched him as he yelled at his men, got dirty, and was mess. She was there as his old self began to resurface, the harsh cold one that cared for nothing and no one. How he would curse, hate, and be the way that he promised he would never go back to. With Ginny at his side, the old Draco was dead.

Yet, what got to Draco most, out of everything else, was that she was the one he hated most…and she took it. Everything he had done to Casey, it was being done to the woman he loved. When he picked on Casey, he was picking on Ginny. When he thought he was hitting Casey, he was hitting Ginny. That woman at the pub… Draco had done everything wrong in front of her, everything. She had seen him at his very worst, the lowest time in Draco's life, and yet she was still giving her life for him.

He loved her. He truly did. Yet, his pride was deeply wounded, and when a Malfoy is wounded, that is it. Draco can't look at her, knowing the truth now. As hard as he tried, all he saw was a liar and betrayer. He saw her intertwined with that filth Colin Creevey, touching him in ways she had reserved only for Draco. He could feel his love draining for her, and he wanted it to stop. He wanted to love her, if Ginny was ever gone, he could never love again. He will never love again.

Draco stared blankly at Ginny's cell, wishing that it wasn't empty. He didn't know how late it was; he usually didn't stay awake during the night. Yet this night, Draco had no means of doing so.

He felt dirty. He felt as if he should be doing more than sitting there. Malfoy's weren't meant for sitting, they were men of action; he made things happen. Then again, what good was a Malfoy to anyone? So, Draco sat, staring at an empty cell, wishing it was him who was being torture in ways that no one dare speak of. He wished it was he who had an empty cell, not Ginny.

The sound of screaming resounded though the cells. Draco sat up like an awaiting dog and looked franticly around. It was Ginny. Getting up, he ran to the front of his cell, knuckles going white as he gripped the bars. He closed his eyes and listened. She was crying, she was screaming, there was laughter…she was aching. His mind began melt as it went on, the sound of his love being tortured. Draco then fell to his knees in exhaustion. He couldn't do it; he couldn't let her get hurt. He loved her! Yet there he was, sitting in a cell, being fed everyday, while she was tortured and beaten for his sins.

Moody sat propped up against his cell wall. He had to grin at the sound of it all, "Alastor Moody's cell wall." Ha! Like any one could honestly capture The Alastor Moody. Yet, there he was, doing Albus a favor, sitting on a wall, across from the stupidest man in the world. Moody let his one eye stare at the sleeping form of Draco Malfoy. He looked at him for a long time, and sneered.

What pride, what foolishness, what ignorance that boy had. If it were Moody in his position, he would fall on his knees in front of that girl. Moody saw how Draco stared at her when she was sleeping, how his eyes would water and his face grew pale as he saw what kind of conditions the Death Eaters left her in. Malfoy was an idiot, and he was glad he was suffering for it.

The Malfoy men were all the same. Their pride is what dominates every other emotion, or lack there of. They think they can control everyone, and when things don't go their way, they turn their backs on it. Moody had seen three generations of Malfoy's go by, and none of them had changed one bit.

Yet this Malfoy, this supposed "different", he was no better, but worse. Who was he to deny such a woman? Who was he to deny any one? Moody remembers when Malfoy had been in Auror training, how much he used to get picked on. Every one would pull pranks on him and taunt him. Not to mention the millions of times he was beat up after curfew. Yet, after all that, when performing his tasks, he was the best, and every one including him knew it.

Moody just shook his head. What could he expect from the son of Lucius Malfoy? He had always had a personal distaste for the boy; too much pride didn't leave one to be too social. Yet, the day Moody had seen Draco and Ginevra together for the first time, he went slack jawed. Malfoy had the look of pure adoration for this young girl. Now, Moody wasn't your ordinary man, he cared little for romance, or feelings in general. But seeing the cold hearted Malfoy acting so gentle towards any one, had to have been the only time he was proud of him.

The sound of a door slamming caught Moody's attention. Looking around he saw three men dragging Ginevra. They took her to the front of her cell, and opened it, throwing her harshly to the ground. Moody saw her head hit the floor, but she made no sound. The red head just lay there, breathing heavily. His watery blue eyes looked up to the three men watching her.

"What are you going to do?" asked one; the man in the middle shook his head.

"That's none of your concern."

"Aw Creevey, you're not going to fuck her in her cell, are you?"

"And if I am?" he growled back. "What is it to you?"

"You're crazy!" came the other one. "Zabini will kill you, you know his rules…"

"I don't give a shit about what that fuck says." Creevey growled. "Now get out of here."

One of the Death Eaters put a hand on his shoulder. "C'mon Creevey, can we at least watch." There was silence, before Creevey yelled. "GET OUT!" the men flinched and began walking away muttering.

"Bloody Bint…"

Moody watched as Creevey looked at Ginevra, lying on the floor, her body shaking. He stood like that for a long while, just standing outside her cell, his blue eyes clouded over as he stared at her. Ginevra didn't move, just lied on the cold floor, her face covered by her hair. Her breathing was quick and hard, but she made no sound. The only reason one could tell she was alive was by the movement of her back. Slowly, Creevey walked into her cell and stood over her.

The girl then began to tremble, Moody could see her hands clench, readying herself for what was to come. There then came a sob and the redhead looked up. Ginevra began to cry, looking at Creevey with pure fear in her eyes. Shaking her head, she dragged her body across her cell, tear after tear falling down her dirty face. She gave no words, just let her tears fall silently.

"Ginny," Creevey said sternly. Moody made a move to grab his wand from his leg. He watched as she stared at him, silent and stony. Her breath was ragged and she looked delirious. Creevey stepped closer to her, she had her back pressed against the stone wall, looking up at him with pure hate and rage. She shook her head, getting her red hair in her face.

"Stand up," He ordered her through gritted teeth. The redhead sniffed. "STAND UP!" He yelled. The tears continued, as Ginevra shakily pushed herself off the ground. Standing in front of him, she held her head high and let the tears fall off her face, onto the floor.

Creevey took a step closer to her, as she pushed her body against the cell wall. He began to stare at her again, his blue eyes looking at her unwavering. All that could be heard was the girl's heavy breathing; it grew more and more harsh as Creevey took a step closer. Her tears were of disgust and disgrace, as she stood in front of someone she thought to be her confidant, her friend; yet ended up being a betrayer. Her hands stayed at her side as he took one more step closer, she took a deep breath.

His hand reached out to her, and with out even touching her she flinched.

"Ginny," He said shakily. "Oh Merlin, Ginny." Creevey then broke down in tears. Moody watched as Ginevra look at him in wonder, her brown eyes staring as he fell to his knees. Tears still leaking down her face, she watched him with caution.

He had his hands covering his face, his body racking with tears. He scooted closer to her and wrapped his arms tightly around her, digging his face into her stomach. Ginevra's lip trembled as she stared down at him; his words coming out muffled. Moody just lay there watching as Creevey begged her for forgiveness. Pleading with her to love him for who he was not the man before her. Her tears came faster and faster with each declaration of his unwavering love.

"I can't live without you," he said through sobs, she took a shaky intake of breath and looked at Draco's cell. Her eyes watching his sleeping form. "I…"

"Get off me." she breathed softly; more tears fell down her face.

"I can get you out of here." He said, looking up at her with eager eyes.

"Don't touch me."

"Ginny…" he nodded his head, "I can save you."

"I don't need you," she whispered, "I don't need you to save me." she just kept her eyes on the other blond.

"Yes you do!" Creevey cried, taking her hands in his. "You don't have to do this! I love you…so much…I will do anything for you." There was a long silence, her eyes never leaving Malfoy, and his never leaving her face; their bodies trembling with fear and humiliation. Slowly, Ginevra shook her head

"You don't know what love is…"

"I…"

"Death Eaters," She bit at him, he blinked. "Death Eaters don't know how to love." She, with whatever energy she had, pushed him off her. She went over to Draco's side of the cell, and took the bars in her hands, staring at him.

"He has done nothing to save you." he pleaded. "I can save you…I…"

"I don't love you," the girl said softly. "What I do is not for myself…"

"You don't have to do it any more!" he cried. "You don't have to let those men…"

"You are one of those men." She breathed. "I do what I do because some things are worth sacrificing, some things are worth pain…my love for Draco is worth all the pain in the world." Brown eyes met his. "You are not worth a moment of my time."

Moody watched as Creevey's face went from fallen to as if some one had ripped his heart out. The pain that flashed in his features, the hints of innocent love shining as he looked at her. Ginevra had been his heart's desires for so long, too long in fact. And in watching Creevey, Moody could tell that the man would never be the same. His blue eyes staring longingly at her as she looked at Draco. Slowly he stood up, a new idea dancing in his head. The blue eyed man went and stood behind her, wrapping his arms around her.

"I love you."

"I don't love you." she whispered softly. "I love Draco," He hugged tighter, "because I wouldn't give a second glance to save you." Even as tears fell down his face, he kissed her neck softly.

"You will see." He came softly. "You will see how much I love you." And with another kiss, he left the cell, slamming it hard behind him.

Moody lay still on the floor watching her for a while longer. Her brown eyes staring at the blond, tears falling down her dirty face. Her knuckles going white as she gripped the bar that kept her from her love. Soon, she fell to her knees and vomited all over the floor. Coughs and wheezes racking her body. Moody only turned away, leaving the girl to deal with her own unreciprocated love.

Ginny lay on the bed panting. Her body trembling as the last Death Eater rolled off her. Her mind was blank; the only thing she knew was pain. Whenever she lay in their bed she went catatonic, for every time was as traumatic as the last. Ginny didn't feel the blood flowing down her face, the bruises forming on her body, or the throbbing between her legs.

Every time a Death Eater would take her, it was as if she her mind shut off. She would feel them yes, but her mind didn't register, or more like would not want to register what was actually happening to her. Scenes would then being to flash in her mind. Hogwarts, Northumberland country, her home, little towns she had seen, and little places she had eaten at. Her mind would then be at peace, no matter how much the Death Eater hit her, or scratched her, or yelled at her to do awful things. Her body would react, because it had to; her mind wouldn't let her react, because it knew she couldn't take it.

So as Ginny lay there, her mind letting her feel the pain running though her body, she listened. They were congratulating the last man for his "splendid performance." There was excited chatter all through out the room. News had apparently been delivered, and now the men were planning an event. Ginny cared nothing for their business, as long as they stayed away from her. She slowly covered her exposed body with sheets on the bed, and tried to forget about the pain.

"Gentlemen," Came the voice of that bastard, Zabini. "What you have heard is true! And the planning is already underway." There was a loud cheer, as the men began to talk of parities, raids, drinking, and other activities that Death Eaters found enjoyable.

"Is there a set date?" asked one, Zabini nodded.

"A fortnight from tonight."

"Will there be a welcome party?" asked another, the dark skinned man laughed.

"Are you bloody kidding?" There was silence. "Bloody believe there will be one, you slag," laughter ensued, "Now, we have lots to do, so get to it." The men then began to leave the room, laughing and talking merrily.

Ginny's brow furrowed. What was so important that these mingers wanted to have a party for? There were so many possibilities all of which she didn't want to think of now. She would have to tell Moody when she got back to her cell. She breathed in heavily and thought of Draco, he would be sleeping by the time she got back. However, her thoughts went south when weight was added to the bed. Whoever it was straddled her, and when she opened her eyes the dirty face of Blaise was staring down at her.

"Hello there," He cooed, tracing her lips with his finger. She looked away. "Did you have fun with good 'ol Vincent?" he inquired, laughing a bit. "I've never seen that sod sweat so badly." He smiled when Ginny grimaced. "You know love, you should be more grateful to us. We've kept our end of the bargain by not touching that little piece of shit, or the old man. Also, none of have the means of killing you, which doesn't happen often." He smiled. "Don't I get at least a cheers?"

"Cheers," She said softly, feeling her body ache with his weight on her. Blaise smiled and kissed her neck, slowly making his way down the valley of her breast. She turned her head, to see that, for once, there was no one in the room watching them. Ginny felt his slimy tongue make its way back up her chest and slip into her mouth. With a sigh, Blaise turned away.

"You know," he said, as he began taking off his shirt. "This will be our last time together." Ginny looked up in alarm. "Oh, don't be saddened love," he cooed. "You won't die." He licked her neck. "It's just, the boys and I thought of something great for the welcome party." Zabini wiped a few stray hairs that were matted to her forehead, "a present."

"Present?" she whispered, almost too afraid to ask, he nodded.

"We thought that you, my lovely Ginevra, would be an excellent welcoming gift for our master's arrival." Ginny's heart nearly stopped. "Master Lucius always liked his women young."