I unfortunately don't own the world of Harry Potter. J. K. Rowling does.

Thank you to my wonderful beta, clovetf!

Just a quick thanks to Allen Pitt, translucent steeds, Loonynamelass, hunter98, Life. Is. A. Ray. Of. Sunshine, Macbec3, xXMizz Alec VolturiXx, whoisaly, xoJaadiexo, Cereah, Sci-fi geek1133, and Eternal Cosmic Sailor Saturn.

Just so you know, I'm writing 6 other stories as well. Thanks! :)

Chapter 63:

Sick

As the bitter cold days of winter wore on, Ariella's exhaustion grew. Her too small clothes were barely keeping her warm, and the nights were freezing, as she slept in a room that might as well have been in the attic.

The meeting had, overall, gone well.

"Come here girl. Let me look at you," her third "master" had ordered. The girl obeyed, bowing as Lucius had demanded of her, waiting for the snake to speak.

"Have you managed to succeed in your task?" he asked.

"I – I'm working on it, milord. I – I've gotten to know him, but he doesn't trust me just yet – I've only just started talking to him two weeks ago," she explained, hoping it was enough…hoping he didn't detect the lie.

The Dark Lord's red eyes narrowed. The wizard pointed his wand at her, "Leginimens!" he yelled.

Ariella was taken aback by the sudden attempt at intrusion. The force hit her hard, forcing her back, and she fell onto the floor. Her mind was being blocked from him.

Voldemort sneered at her, his mouth twisted in a sliming, sinister smile. "It would seem as if even I cannot get into your mind. We shall fix that simply. Crucio!"

Almost by instinct, Ariella fell to the floor, attempting not to scream, as the pain coursed through her, the strongest she had ever felt it. Finally, it stopped, and as she panted, he gave her an order.

"Now, let me in!"

Desperate, knowing she couldn't disobey, Ariella thought of just meeting Harry, conversing lightly, of Ron's distrust, and pushed those images for him to see, feeling his magic poking around as she rose to her feet again.

"Very well. You are dismissed," he told her, seemingly satisfied. She bowed again, backing out of the room, feeling exhausted, violated, and with a burning running through her upper left arm…around Draco's name.

One week after they had returned home, she was in Draco's room, making his bed, fighting to even stand upright and keep awake. As she reached across the bed, the young servant reveled in the softness and comfort of the bed sheets. Slowly, she put her head against it, just to feel the plush fabric against her skin, and closed her eyes, imagining a different life…

Sometime later, Draco entered his room, fully intent on spending time alone, when he stopped cold. Ariella had slipped to the floor, her face against the bed, her hand clutched in the sheets. He went forward, meaning to simply shake her awake, but as his hand touched her uncovered shoulder, and immediately brought it back in shock. Her skin was burning!

"Mo – Mother!" he cried out. Something was definitely wrong.

Narcissa came rushing into the room, after hearing her son's cry. As she took in her servant's state, she gasped, before immediately going into action.

"Draco, lift her onto the bed please," she ordered. Surprised, Draco obeyed, and his mother did not notice the worried look that crossed her son's face as he gently lay her down.

"Get some damp towels and cool water," she then told her son. Narcissa noticed the girl's enslavement mark pulsing and she quickly brought Draco's covers over her servant, hiding it rom sight.

Once Draco returned, Narcissa took a damp cloth and gently placed it on her forehead, before pressing another to her neck.

"Draco, stay with her, will you? I'm going to get some medicine for her," she asked of hr son, who nodded, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. Hesitantly, he took a clean rag and began to press it around her neck, just as his mother had done. She flinched, but did not wake. However, she began to toss and turn for a bit, getting twisted up within the sheets.

Draco had never seen her like this before. And if he were being perfectly honest, it scared him. She might have looked weak before, especially under his father's gaze, but it was nothing compared to how she looked now. She was paler then he was, sweat covering her face as her body wracked with shivers.

"Tilt her head, will you?" his mother asked, sweeping back into the room, startling him. He complied, propping her upper body up, feeling the heat of her fever against his own skin. Narcissa carefully poured a dose of medication into her servant's mouth, before letting her son lay Ariella down again, her body practically limp in his arms.

"That vile wench! Where is she? I ordered – what is going on here?" a newcomer's harsh voice asked, breaking the subdued tension. Lucius Malfoy stood, looking at his servant lying in his heir's bed, being tended to by his family.

Striding forward, Lucius grabbed the unconscious girl's arm, startled at the heat, but he refused to let go. He body lolled upward with his movement, almost lifeless as she hung like a rag doll from his hand.

"Lucius, leave her be. She's sick, can't you see that?" Narcissa pleaded with her husband.

"She has chores to attend to; there is work to be done," he replied coldly.

"Lucius, the girl is unconscious, how can you possibly expect her to work?" Narcissa asked, a hint of desperation in her voice.

"Father, if she is too weak, she will just have to redo all the work you give her. Would you not rather it be done once?" Draco pointed out logically, hoping his father wouldn't detect the real reason he didn't want her to work.

Lucius stared at his son for a moment, before giving a curt nod, throwing the girl back onto the bed forcefully, as if he had touched something rather vile, her arm falling against the sharp edge of the nightstand.

"Alert me when she is awake," he ordered, sneering at her before stalking from the room.

Once he was gone, both Narcissa and Draco sighed in temporary relief.

"I don't want to move her while she's in such a state. Would you mind that she stayed here?" Narcissa asked her son, watching with observant eyes as he rearranged her burning body after being thrown so carelessly by her husband, casting a quick Episky on her now-bleeding arm.

Perhaps there was still hope, both for the girl and for her son…if her son was treating their servant as more then her station, then he was not becoming the man he aimed to be, nor would she be treated as harshly once they were older.

Draco shook his head, desperately wishing for her to be better soon. The longer she stayed ill, the angrier his father would be, which meant a harsher punishment (whatever that actually was) and more work for her.

A few days passed, and Ariella was still unconscious. It was late, and Draco himself was beginning to feel the effects. He had been "sleeping" in a different room during the nights, and been spending as much time as he dared in his own room with Ariella. Though, to be perfectly honest, he hadn't actually been sleeping all that well. Between his hidden concern for her and sleeping in a different room, he couldn't remember ever getting less sleep.

Bringing a fresh glass of water and damp towel, he sat upon the chair next to the bed. Lucius was getting angrier as the hours passed. Though Draco didn't know how she was punished, he would have to be blind not to admit his father was doing something to hurt her...as much as he hated to admit that.

Just – just for a moment…he thought, closing his eyes, his head slumped forward as leaned against the bed.

Ariella awoke with a start. She began to sit up, but quickly lay back down – the room was spinning. Slowly opening her eyes again, she blinked…this wasn't her room. Carefully, she sat up, surveying the room. It was decorated in silvers and greens. Then she felt the material beneath her fingers. It was soft. Scared, she looked down, before realization came to her. She was in Draco's room…in his bed no less.

"So…you're finally awake," a voice drawled, and Ariella's head shot to the right. Her eyes found Draco leaning casually against the bureau, arms loosely crossed. However, what startled her even more was his completion. He was even paler then usual, and dark circles rested under his eyes, while his hair had lost that perfectly combed look.

Then her body reacted. She immediately bowed her head, removing the covers, trying frantically to get up.

"I – I'm sorry. I don't know how – " she began, but Draco stopped her.

"How much do you remember?" he asked, causing her to pause.

"I – the last thing I remember was cleaning your room, adjusting your sheets and the like."

"Ariella, you fell asleep against the bed. When I touched your shoulder to wake you, your skin was burning. You've been asleep for four days," he told her, his voice unnaturally quiet.

"Four days," he choked out, her eyes widening. "Your – you're father's going to kill me."

"No he won't. Mother and I had to talk him out of waking you, but you should be all right," he said. "I hope," he then continued, muttering under his breath.

However, he could see that she was still panicking. Sighing, he cast a quick glance at the door, before coming to kneel in front of her.

"You've been very sick; he can't blame you for that. Just – just don't make him angry; you're still weak, but that's not going to matter to him," he said, his voice quiet. Ariella could have sworn she had detected some concern within his mysterious grey eyes.

She nodded, not quite sure why she was reassured by Draco's words.

"I thought I told you to alert me as soon as she awoke," a cold voice said, penetrating the room. Ariella's eyes went wide as she looked up at the mater she feared the most.

"Father, she awoke not even five minutes ago," he replied, standing up straight, pretending to glare at his servant, as if he was asserting his authority.

"Very well; Draco, you may leave. I will handle this myself," he said, a slight rebuke in his voice.

"Yes, Father," he answered, leaving the room with just one more look over his shoulder.

"You thought you could get out of work, didn't you? By falling ill!...Answer me girl!" he demanded, his stance menacing as he towered over the weakened girl.

"N – no sir, I promise!" she pleaded, to no avail.

"Insolence!" he hissed.

"Please, Mr. Malfoy, I had no intention of becoming ill. I – I'll make up the work I missed, I promise, just please, give me – "

"Give you something? I have been more than generous with you already," he interrupted, his voice low with anger. He then pulled her up, so that his face was inches away from hers.

"It's time you learned once and for all who is truly you master," he sneered, his voice just above a whisper, a smirk on his face as he threw her down.

The Cruciatus Curse caused pain to race through her, wracking her body with writhes of pain. As she panted for breath, she saw suddenly saw the whip coming down, but was not fast enough to turn away fully – it left a stinging strip across the top of her chest. She cried out, but managed to turn to the side as the blows fell down upon her already bruised back.

She then felt his arm grab her, twisting it forcefully as he apparated them to her far away bedroom.

"Never are you to sleep in my son's bed in place of him again, do I make myself clear?"

"Ye – yes sir; of – of course," the weakened girl stuttered out just as he leaned over her.

"A final warning, if you will," he said, before lowering his eyes as they wandered over her thin body, which due to the whipping, was shown more than usual.

"I can do most anything I wish to you; it would be in your best interest to remember that," he snarled suggestively, before leaving the room with a swish of his cloak.

Ariella lay on the floor, quakes still running through her frail body, panting as she gasped for breath, shuddering as she took in Lucius' words, before making a decision.

If she had to become even more subservient, at least here at the Manor, then so be it. But she would survive this. And she would do so without getting taken advantage of, especially not by Lucius Malfoy of all people. She would just simply have to act the part he wished. And, with Draco's orders from their last visit in mind, that should be very easy to do. Because if there was one thing she had learned over the years, it was how to fool a Malfoy. (Something that would be greatly needed only just a few months down the road.)

Anything you recognize is from Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix.

Thanks to all who are reading and enjoying this story. If you have any suggestions, (i.e. would like to see something happen, etc.) questions, or comments, please feel free to private message me. Thanks! ~ Leanora