Author Notes Warning: This chapter contains acts of violence. If you're squeamish, do not read on! Skip to the next chapter; you can pick up what happens by context.

Chapter Eleven: In Which Horrible Things Happen

Ginny wanted to scream, to rant at Malfoy, to beg Harry to do something, anything, but all she could do was stare unblinkingly ahead. Which, currently, was the ceiling of Malfoy Manor.

At least that's where she presumed she was, considering that it had been Draco Malfoy's voice that had cursed them, Malfoy's face she'd seen dragging her to the fireplace to Floo back, and that the decor she had glimpsed had been hideously overdone.

"Father will be so pleased with me," Malfoy said, dumping them both on the floor. "Harry Potter and a little Weasley girl to play with!"

Ginny didn't want to think of what kind of "playing" Malfoy had in mind. It probably involved lots of hexes and metal spikes.

"Good, it worked." The voice of Lucius Malfoy made her blood freeze. It was he, after all, who had planted the diary in her cauldron. She could hear his feet clicking on the polished floor as he approached to survey them. "I was worried that fool Percy wouldn't leave the Burrow when he was called--but Fudge was quite convincing. I assume you have their wands?"

"Yes, Father. They were on the table."

"Good, good. Glad to see the suggestion worked. Stay here, Draco. I will inform the others."

Suggestion? What was Malfoy talking about? And who were the others? Ginny's mind was whirling.

Beside her, she heard a scratching noise. She wished she could turn her head, because it sounded distinctly like fingernails on wood floor. Maybe Harry's Petrificus was wearing off.

Lucius Malfoy was back, with company. "Macnair, can you carry them both?" There was a grunt of acknowledgment. "Good. Take them down to the dungeon in the southwest corner."

Ginny snorted inwardly. She wasn't surprised that Malfoy Manor had more than one dungeon. The Burrow had, or rather had had, one; when she was five, she'd stumbled into a suspicious chamber off their cellar with chains and some strange wooden devices. Mr. Weasley had happily pronounced it an old dungeon. Now it held potatoes.

And now she was being dragged into her first ever functioning dungeon. Great, she thought sarcastically. This is really something to write home about.

Beside her, she could hear Harry breathing heavily. I wonder if he's scared,Ginny thought. Her inner eleven-year-old desperately didn't want to be seen as a coward by the famous Harry Potter.

Wait a minute. Breathing? That meant that his spell was wearing off.

Macnair dropped her on the stone floor and left without a comment.

"Ginny!" Harry was completely free now and ran over to her. "Are you okay? Can you move?"

She tried to say something, but her lips were still frozen.

"Hmm. Guess not." He looked around. "There's a pile of straw over there--it'll be more comfortable than the stone floor. Can I move you? ...Right, you can't talk. Well, I'll assume it's okay."

Okay for him to carry her? Who did he think he was dealing with? Of course he could carry her wherever he wanted. She entertained a brief, delicious fantasy of Harry Potter's hands on her body.

Harry placed her gently on the straw, his hands, unfortunately, firmly not wandering. "You're pretty light," he mused.

Why wasn't her Petrificus wearing off? They were only supposed to last a few minutes, just long enough for someone to get away. She'd been under for... at least fifteen minutes now.

Harry sat next to her on the straw, gently stroking her forehead. "I hope you're okay. If Malfoy's done something permanent to you, I'll--"

"You'll what, Potter?" It was Draco Malfoy, standing outside the bars of their cell. "What would you do if I did something to your precious little Weasley brat?" He sneered.

"I'd kill you," replied Harry angrily, springing up. He stalked over to glare at Malfoy through the bars.

"Ooh, ooh, I'm so scared! Somebody help me! Harry Potter wants to kill me!" Malfoy wailed in a high-pitched voice. He smirked. "And you haven't got your wand, poor thing."

"Shut up, Malfoy," said Harry through clenched teeth.

Malfoy opened the door, his wand pointed straight at Harry. "Make one move, Potter, and you'll wish you'd never been born," he said seriously. "I've been learning real duelling over the summer--nothing like that idiot Lockhart's little club--and my father's taught me some powerful curses." At Harry's look of apprehension, he added, "Not just Crucio and Imperius, but some really nasty ones, too. Pity, that little Ginny here can't move," Malfoy continued happily. "I'd so like to test out one of the new variants of Cruciatus on her."

Ginny quailed inwardly. Where was her Gryffindor courage now? she thought bitterly.

"Do you want to know what they do, Potter? Not only does every nerve feel like it's on fire, but with just a few added words you can make the bones feel like they're breaking, the teeth fall out, or the eyes feel like they're being poked out with a blunt spoon." He shivered, almost like a happy puppy. "But," Draco mused, "if I cast another spell on her, it'll break the Petrificus--and I can't have that. It would ruin my plans."

"You bastard!"

"Language, Potter, language, there's a lady around. Well, I suppose she's just a Weasley, so she doesn't count. My father's always told me that the only reason the Weasleys have so many children is because their women are so easy. You'd know, wouldn't you?"

"Take that back, Malfoy." Ginny could see Harry's fists clenching.

"I didn't say anything untrue, did I? Everyone knows that you and Ginny are sleeping together--or at least that's what I've heard from the Ravenclaws..."

"The Ravenclaws? Cho?" Harry asked disbelievingly.

Malfoy smirked triumphantly. "She's a wonderful gossip, did you know? Just let any little thing slip, and she'll pick up on it. Sharp, like all good Ravenclaws."

Harry said nothing. Ginny saw a thin trickle of blood on his fingers--he'd broken the skin on his palms with his fingernails.

"Now, to business." Malfoy muttered something, and thin, snakelike cords shot out from his wand at Harry. "Don't want you interfering."

"What are you doing, Malfoy?" spat Harry, although Ginny could hear a note of panic in his voice.

"Silencio! Just shut up, Harry. It's playtime."

Ginny heard the sound of rustling fabric and fought her panic. No, this isn't happening, this is not happening... But it was. All too soon, Malfoy was on top of her, hands tearing at her pretty skirt and sweater, and muttering a few well-chosen spells to soften certain of her body parts.

Just like Malfoy to take the easy way and leave her in the Body Bind.

Fortunately, he didn't take long. But it hurt, even though she was still under the spell. And she wished more than anything that Harry hadn't had to witness it. Malfoy finished, tugged his robes back down over himself, and left, swaggering. As he closed the door to their cell, over his shoulder he released both their binds.

Harry immediately ran over to her. "Oh, god, Ginny, are you okay?" he asked

But Ginny couldn't speak. She sat up, holding her arms around her, rocking back and forth. Really, she told herself, it was just a nightmare. You'll wake up, in your room at the Burrow, with Hermione on the cot beside you...And Mum will be nagging you to unroll your socks before putting them in the laundry pile...

Arms stretched to hold her, but she jerked back reflexively, before remembering that it was just Harry. "Sorry," she managed to say. Her voice was croaky.

Harry retreated a few inches, crouching on the floor. "That's okay... but are you all right? Can I do anything?"

She just shook her head.

"Oh, god, you're bleeding!" Blood was seeping into the straw and was pooling stickily on her legs.

"Just a little, don't worry. It's normal the first time." The first time...

"It's going to be okay, Ginny... here, you need to put something on..." He pulled off his sweater. "Wear this."

"Won't you be cold?" The words came automatically, part of her still functioning.

"Not as cold as you'll be."

His sweater fell to her knees, which was a good thing. She didn't want to be showing too much skin for a while. She felt dirty. "Violated" wasn't the right word. Contaminated. Not really tainted, but contaminated. Like she'd been stuffed with some sort of poisonous fungus--and considering that it was Malfoy, that wasn't a bad comparison.

Harry had retreated courteously to the other side of the dungeon while she cleaned up and dressed.

"Don't be so far away," she said quietly.

"But--but I thought you didn't want me to touch you- "

"I didn't--but I want you close to me..."

He came over and sat on the straw next to her, a few courteous inches between them.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Harry asked after a moment.

Ginny stayed silent, not trusting herself to speak--she knew that if she did, she'd probably start crying.

"Talking about it helps. You know what happened the night of the Third Task, right?"

Ginny nodded.

"Well, after that, when I came back, Dumbledore made me tell him everything. And it was hard, but it felt good to get it out."

Ginny drew a long breath. "So I guess I should tell you how I feel, then?"

"If you'd like. I'll listen."

"Not yet, Harry," she whispered.

A few hours later, they were joined in their cell by three more Weasleys plus Hermione. Ron was sporting a black eye, and a bruised George supported Fred, who seemed to have a broken ankle. Hermione looked unhurt, but pale. Ron had his arm around her.

"Oh, lord, what happened?" asked Ginny, seeing their injuries.

Instantly a babble broke out. Ginny caught words like "Death Eaters," "Percy, that idiot," and "surprise attack" before Harry cut in.

"Stop, stop," he said, waving his arms. "One of you at a time! From the beginning--what happened after your parents left? And where's Percy?"

The four of them looked at each other, then Fred spoke.

"First, we don't know where Percy is. He got an owl from the Ministry and Apparated out. Right when he left, a bunch of Death Eaters showed up and started attacking. Percy had managed to get my wand and George's--he said we had to clean without magic, and that he didn't want us hexing him behind his back"--he snorted disdainfully--"but Ron and Hermione still had theirs. They were good, too," he added.

Ron couldn't help but grin.

"Crabbe and Goyle were there, too, Harry," he said. "I got them both with Jelly-Legs, you should've seen how they wobbled..."

Harry grinned too. Then he sobered.

"But are you guys okay?"

"Yeah, I guess," said George. "Hermione got hit with Crucio." He looked over at Hermione, who was leaning on Ron for support, her face buried in his shoulder. "But she says she'll be okay. And you two?"

"Malfoy was in the kitchen when we came downstairs for tea," said Harry grimly.

"You two were upstairs together?" asked George with a faint smirk.

"We were doing homework!" protested Harry.

"Right, right," said Fred, grinning widely. "That's what I'll tell Mum and Dad..."

"Really, we were doing homework," said Ginny quietly.

Fred sobered at the look on his sister's face. "All right," he said. "But what happened afterwards? We were stuck in some room at Goyle's house for hours."

"Malfoy brought us here and--" Harry looked at Ginny. She gave in imperceptible shake of her head. She didn't want her brothers knowing what had happened. Not yet. "--put us in this dungeon. We've been here the entire time."

Fred nodded. There was silence for a moment. Then Harry spoke. "You said Percy got an owl from the Ministry?"

"Yeah," said Ron. "He read it, said he needed to go take care of something immediately, and Apparated out."

"Was it from Fudge?"

"I dunno," said George. "Could have been. The bit of writing I saw looked like Fudge's."

"Oh, how would you know what Fudge's writing looks like?" asked Ron, exasperated.

George raised his eyebrows. "We'd know," he said cryptically.

Fred nodded. "Yup, we'd know. We just didn't get a good enough look at it."

"C'mon, you two, tell us what's up," said Ron imploringly.

"Can't. Classified."

"By whom?" asked Hermione. Some color was returning to her face.

"Can't tell. Classified."

"Oh, come on," pleaded Ginny, eager for the distraction. "We're family."

"If I told you, I'd have to Obliviate you."

Fred's words clicked something in Ginny's head. That was familiar--being Obliviated over classified information. Why did that ring a bell? Why? She shook her head to clear it, but had an idea.

"Does it have to do with that paper you were writing for Dumbledore?" she asked slyly.

"It might," said George slowly.

"And what about that 'new experiment'? The one that made you feel the other twin's pain?"

Fred grinned. "She's starting to figure it out," he said to George.

"We'll have to do something about it then," said Fred in mock seriousness.

"She might tell--" They launched themselves at her, hands ready to tickle.

It was too much contact. She yelled and pushed them away.

"Off! Get off me!" she screamed, panicked. "No! Stop it!"

They stopped.

"Hey, Gin, what's wrong?" said Fred, holding out his hand to pull her off the floor. She ignored it and pushed herself up into a sitting position.

"You've never sounded so upset about us tickling you before," said George. "Are you okay?"

"And why are you wearing Harry's sweater?" asked Fred. "Did something happen?"

Suddenly all the weight of the previous few hours came tumbling down on her, and she started shaking, hiccuping, and sobbing uncontrollably.

"What is it?" "What happened?" "Are you okay?" came the voices of her three protective brothers. "Harry? What happened!"

She looked at Harry for support. "I can't tell them," she said hoarsely. She was just too embarrassed. She knew it was ridiculous--of course it wasn't her fault--but she just couldn't.

"Tell us what?" asked Ron.

"Ginny was--Malfoy, he--he put Petrificus on us when he kidnapped us, and Ginny's held for a long time, so he--he took advantage of it to--to -"

"He didn't," breathed Fred.

"He did!" exclaimed George, looking at Ginny, who was sitting on the floor, curled into a ball.

"Oh, Ginny," said Hermione, gathering her into her arms. Ginny shook with silent sobs.

"She wouldn't let me touch her afterwards," Harry said quietly to the Weasleys as Hermione comforted the younger girl. "She just--wanted to be alone."

"I'm going to kill him, I swear it," said Ron.

"Not until I do," Harry said seriously.

"Why does everything happen to Ginny?" asked Fred angrily. "First the Chamber of Secrets, and now this..."

"Because," came a cold voice, "she's a powerful little witch with a connection to Harry Potter."

Lord Voldemort was standing right outside their cell.