"I assure you Lucius that it was just a lack of ability…"

"I am perfectly capable of feeding the animals, of course, but I just wasn't prepared for…"

"And I promise she will follow my orders more strictly in future and not let such a drastic mistake occur. I should have…"

"You see he jumped out so quickly and before I could even raise my wand the little imp was…"

"She pretends to be good at these things when quite frankly she is useless. If I hadn't been the other side of the corridor I would have prevented…"

"I ran after him but he seemed to discover this great amount of energy. I guess it's like an elastic band, the more you stretch him to madness the crazier he's going to be when he is set free to fly…"

"He wasn't set free at all, he must have judged that my wife was inexperienced and that I was not close to the area…"

"I didn't know that there were slits to put the grub in. I thought you had to actually unward the door and open it. That's how he escaped, sir," my mind carries on racing through the myriad of excuses I could give. They all flow out of my mouth randomly in a boggling stumble, at rapid speed.

"Could you both please hold your annoying tongues? I find it rather sweet that you have devised these excuses and supported each other so desperately. However, I am not a man who cares and not one to hold an ounce of sympathy. Severus, you are fully aware of the seriousness of the mistake your wife has committed and the uproar it will cause if the news is revealed to the wizarding world," he turns and looks at me, "Now you, step forward!"

I shuffle forward reluctantly, shifting my eyes around the room. It is like the oasis in a desert, dressed in rich fabrics and ebony furniture. It looks like the Lord of the mansion's study, which only the privileged men could access and very seldom women. I must be lucky, or not, to be allowed in. The walls cannot be seen for the bookshelves, which contain polished and bound books, all unlabeled and highly likely containing war strategies and dark material. The floor I am stood on is jet-black slate, which makes my shoes scrape cringingly as I shuffle. Infront of me is Lucius, who is sat in a large armchair made of panther fir; it rocks smoothly like a pendulum to his beat. The arms of the chair finish with the beast's claws, clutching onto the ebony wood like Lucius Malfoy is clutching onto me, his prey. A barrier is between us; a small desk with a few rolls of parchment and a quill; this can easily be swung away so that the chase can begin. There are no windows in this room. No escape for me, my friend won't come and save me as I did him.

"Look at me when I speak to you, child," Malfoy snaps, reminding me of a strict Headmaster that Dumbledore was not.

"Like I said earlier, there are more pleasant sights," I say as I jolt my head around to look at him squarely.

"Still as cocky as ever, not for long though, I am afraid. You see, you made a promise to me that you would impress your husband and myself, as his leader, and Our Master. You have broken that promise within one day of your duties whilst fulfilling the simplest of tasks. Already, I view you as worthless to this organisation. Can I even be bothered to let you patrol anymore? Are you now just a liability?" he turns to Snape, "What do you think of your wife's performance so far?"

"Disgraceful, sir, but I didn't marry her because she was perfect, I married her because it was cheaper than using prostitutes."

"Did you hear that?" he sniggered, the look on his face victorious. "You are slightly more than worthless but I think that you would much rather be no good at all."

I didn't care, that's just what he thinks, and if Snape is telling the truth then what Malfoy thinks is far from the truth. Truthfully, I am worth a lot. I have just set free one prisoner and I will find ways to release more. Whilst I am doing that, I will also re-establish the Order of the Phoenix that will bring forward both him and Our Master's demise. This thought keeps me sane, and I remember it so that I do not panic when they talk about me as just a sex object. It is good that he thinks that is all I am. I will let him keep believing that, make him believe I have no real brain cells, and then he really will not see my plan in action.

I look at him, he is waiting for me to squirm and beg forgiveness: "I know that is what you think of me. It is what all men have ever thought of me."

This is a lie, of course. I grew up in a world of equality where I was respected as much as my two male friends were. I married a man who let me work, even when I was pregnant. He took paternity leave so that I could pursue a promotion. But I'll let Lucius Malfoy think the opposite; he cannot know anything about my personal background that could link me to Hermione Granger.

"Really? Such a whore, you're not even ashamed of it. You still haven't told me what happened to the prisoner once he escaped."

I clear my throat and think quickly: "I told you that he ran too quickly for me to catch him. Well he somehow managed to reach that stairwell that is cut into the edge of the cliff face. He climbed up there with more energy than me. He reached the top of the cliff." I pause for breath – where else can I take this made up story?

"And…" Lucius says impatiently, "I presume he is not still there."

And… He disapperated? No, I could be in greater trouble because then there would be a free prisoner, roaming around, and searches would be conducted.

"He jumped, sir. He was crazy, had no indication of where he was and what he was doing. He had the impression that if he leaped off the cliff then angels would come and save him. He should have known we only have Dementors here," he looks at me with an even less satisfied look, "The fall alone would have killed him, and if not the rocks below tore his body within an instant of collision. I watched the blood slither down the sharp claws of the rocks and into the grateful mouths of the sharks. It was a satisfying end, if you ask me. He was no longer an asset to us, I can\assure you, his mind was completely gone and he was drained of all information. At least he did some good in his final moments of life, he made a very tasty meal for our blood thirsty allies."

"We only execute under The Master's command," bellows Malfoy.

"Would you rather he escaped?" I throw back.

Infuriated Malfoy rises from his seat and approaches me, his teeth are gritted and a small ball of foam bubbles in the corner of his mouth. With only a couple of swift strides he is towering over me, breathing the air from his nostrils into my mouth, which is still gaping open in need of more words. I weakly cough and then take a tiny stride back. He grabs my forearm and thrusts me forward to him, his nostrils flaring and the tip of his tongue caressing the stubble above his upper lip. He takes a cluster of my brown curls and holds them infront of his face, admiring them. He pulls them tightly so that the top of my scalp is screaming for them back. I force myself forward so that the pain would ease. He is so close now; I can see each blemish on his pale skin and the greyness of his eyes. Behind me another cough is heard that reminds me that there is a third person in the room.

Malfoy appears to have forgotten Snape also, his head twitched quickly and his expression moves from cunning to surprise within an instant. I turn my head to see Snape's usual malcontent face: his brow tense so that every aging line is visible; his nose launching out infront making it the first and last feature everyone sees. The black pupils of his eyes are so large but so concentrated on the event infront of him and his strange black hair wafts around everywhere, defiant of his intentions and turning an icy grey at the tips. I realise for the first time that he has aged, although not as much as I had thought he would. I try to ask him for support, giving him dolly big eyes and a meek expression, I don't feel pride in wanting him to help me, but neither do I want to carry on this encounter with Malfoy.

"May I be the one to decide on her punishment, Lucius? She is mine afterall," he says after a long moment of contemplation.

"No Severus, with such matters it is my given responsibility to issue out the punishments," he says and then moves even closer to me, "and, boy, am I going to enjoy this one."

My heart drills with more dread and guilt and sickness and reluctance than it ever has before. He lifts his hand to my lips and with his thumb presses down firmly. I want to bite him, bite the bony and wrinkling thumb off and watch him pick it up from the floor, where I have spat it out. Why can't I do that? I would have done ten minutes ago. My heart carries on pounding, with each touch, to my hip, to my hair, to my face and to my chest. My heart pounds deeper and deeper.

I close my eyes and imagine my children. What will they be doing now? It is midday, around lunchtime so they'll be opening up their packed lunches and complaining that Daddy made egg sandwiches rather than ham (Harriet hates egg); and they'll be sulking because he never allows them to have chocolate in school. Or maybe lunch has just finished and they're starting some new class. George is about to start algebra, or maybe he already has, he's good at maths and I bought a book for him ready for when he starts the project. I hope my husband remembered to give it him. Harriet loves art though, she paints a picture for everything beautiful she sees and can mix up colours from either end of the spectrum, and she then applies them to every picture. I think of all the colours that would be lost if I ask her to paint a picture of Azkaban.

Once again I am reminded of where I am. The man that has now got a firm grip on me and is surveying my body, urgent to begin the punishment but not quite knowing where. He is like a boy in a sweet shop, not wanting to choose one thing in fear that he may lose out on another. Then he moves his mouth to my neck and I feel my skin turn to stone by the slathering liquid that he leaves behind with every grope. He begins to bite me, and groans slightly when he cuts my flesh and tastes blood. Once he has satisfyingly bitten the circumference of my neck he looks up to me, smiles, and pulls the robe off my shoulders. I have no doubt what his intentions are.

Quickly, in a last bid for help, I look over to Snape. He stands like an obedient dog, waiting for his owner to give him the freedom of his wife again, as if I were his favourite bone. Too long, I anger at him, too long has he buried his head in the sand. Too long has he been a follower, followed orders from whoever is giving them out. Too long has he been the one who does only what is best for him and catered for his own needs above anyone else's. Too long has he favoured the winning side. Of couse, he was only a member of the Order whilst Dumbledore was alive, now he's dead the power is dead. So he came here to pursue power. Horrid man, how can he sit here and watch Lucius Malfoy do this to me. He knows how much I hate the man. He knows everything, and yet he is allowing all of this to happen. I gasp, watching Malfoy's crooked fingers approach the top button of my shirt, the cotton is so thin and delicate that I already feel naked. Desperate, once again, I glance over to Snape with one last pleading look.

"Malfoy may I remind you why the Dark Lord reinstated the Marriage Laws of the previous Ministry. Marriage between the pureblood families is crucial to the success of our final goal. That is why marriage is a life long commitment that involves only the wizard and his wife, any violation of this law, by a well-informed minister such as yourself is seen as a grave offence."

Malfoy stops abruptly, and swerves around to my saviour: "Sorry Sev, I forgot you were still here. May I point out my lack of interest in your opinion," he grabs a fist of cotton and buttons and wrenches it apart. My skin turns pale at exposure.

"Our duty is to the Dark Lord, both of us are bound to serve him," he says, coming closer but still a barrier is between us, he is not close enough for me to stretch out and touch.

"I am doing my duty, this is an act you have committed numerous times yourself, so you are not one to preach about Marriage Laws."

Impatiently Snape raises his wand and aims, his nerves make the tip quiver but I have no doubt that he will use it, I know now that I am safe: "Only under his command do we do such acts. Only when he licenses us to, now let her go and I will assure she gets her just punishment."

Malfoy hurls me across the room, like a toy he no longer wants to play with. Snape snatches me into his arms and holds me close; the palm of his hand strokes my hairline to comfort me. I take deep breaths and force my body to relax.

"Just? Nothing about what I want to do to your wife is merciful. Now put the wand away and stand back against the wall." He has his own wand poised, and aiming perfectly to his rival's chest. I feel my safety net being pulled away as Snape backs off any obeys. He was taunting me, letting me think he would protect me when really he won't. Malfoy moves his wand away from him and I assume he will put it away and continue his work on me.

But he doesn't, he aims it towards me with an even greater evil written on his face. I breathe in but my lungs refuse to take breath. I know what is coming next.

"Crucio."