AN: WARNING: This chapter contains depictions of violence and testing on animals. If you prefer not to read that stuff, skip chapters 14, 16, and 18. Chapters 15 and 17 CONTAIN NO VIOLENCE. And Chapter 19 will contain a summary of important things if you choose to skip skip these.

Penny's body lay spread-eagle on her bed, an open letter still clutched in her hand. The ink was smudged and the paper worn, but still it was legible.

Dear Penny,

I was so delighted to see your edits on the essay. I really think you are a very talented young witch, it was really my luck to have been privileged to teach you. But don't just take my word for it. I am writing with the spectacular news that the Daily Prophet has accepted your work and you will be featured in the first week of October! You have earned this, I'm so proud! I hope you don't mind that I asked Dumbledore to do the write up of your profile. I would have done it myself, but being what I am, I did not want to tarnish your moment, The headmaster was also very enthusiastic about helping and had some wonderful things to say about you, but you will see soon enough, I don't want to spoil anything.

On the nature of your concerns, I am familiar with expression, it is unfortunate that Grindelwald is the only case people know of, but the gift is very rare. You would do well to heed Professor Snape and avoid the Durmstrangs, I would not put violence past them, especially with the history they have with Grindelwald, but please remember it comes from a place of ignorance. There is nothing wrong with you. I wish your dad were here to tell you himself, what a wonderful, kind, and brilliant young woman you are. But I knew your dad very well, and for many years, so I hope you will trust the authority with which I speak on this subject, there would have been no question in either of your parents' mind on this: you are perfect just the way you are and there is no need to fear yourself. It will take time to understand, and I am sure Dumbledore is already working on it, but just allow yourself time to process it. We will figure this out. I am always here for you, don't forget that. I'll do everything in my power to help you.

Harry is very much like your father! I daresay most of us find it hard to believe that Professor Snape has taken a liking to any student outside of Slytherin. Don't let it get you down, it seems like the mentorship is as good for Professor Snape as it is you, Harry will come around eventually, but to us outside observers, you have nothing to worry about trusting Severus Snape. I believe he has your best interests at heart.

I better wrap up this letter, I still have some things to finish today. Before I go, I was hoping to visit you and Harry in Hogsmede on November 6th. Perhaps we could have a butterbeer and check out Zonkos around 3pm, does that work for you? Let me know and I'll make arrangements, and bring some books of interest along for you. I miss our chats at Hogwarts too, Penny, but just because our friendship looks different these days doesn't mean it's any less valuable. Try and stay positive.

Again I am SO proud!
Remus Lupin.

Steps echoed in the hall causing Penny to bolt upright in her bed, head swiveling to the door. Her eyes betrayed no grogginess, but stared with panic at the dark wooden frame, dark circles encasing them like a cage. It swung open, and the dreaded, squeaky shoes crossed the room, their silent frame dressed in maroon robes, flanked by two more, who wore black robes. None of them spoke, not even a greeting. They simply crossed to her, in the robotic motion they did every night. Behind them was the cart they always brought. The first reached for a device on top and made for Penny.

"You know a, 'hello, sorry to wake you,' would be polite," Penny said, eyeing the collar-like device with disgust.

The silent man ignored her and pressed the evil blue button that opened the device. He approached her, aiming for her neck. Penny instinctively raised her arms, having nowhere to retreat to.

"Marshall, do you like that name? I decided on it since you refuse to tell me your actual name. But look, Marshall, can we not have a civil discussion about this. I know you think this is science , but you do realize you are forcing a collar onto a human, an underage human at that. What happened to children's rights?" Penny demanded.

As expected, a hand caught hold of her ankle and yanked her to the end of the bed. The two flunkies descended on her, pinning her hands, while Marshall attached the device to her neck. It buzzed and closed uncomfortably, while three more smaller versions of it were attached to her and ankles and left wrist. Then she was being dragged down the same bright hallway they took her down every night. The emptiness was the only indication of night in the place, as there was not a single window in any of the rooms she was allowed in. It was awful, not knowing the time of day without asking. The morning crew, who were decidedly not sketchy scientists, spoke to her and answered all her questions. But this nameless, silent bunch, who pulled her from her bed each night, never responded.

Penny was nothing more than a subject to be poked and prodded until they found the results they so desired. Tonight they appeared to be taking her to the Never-ending room. Penny dubbed it this because though at first glance the room appeared small, it continued on with no end. Even when it was well lit her eyes could not find the other side of the room. She was forced into her normal seat at the table. She plopped her head onto it, tugging at her neck. Penny was never a very claustrophobic person, but she felt on the verge of becoming one.

The point of the device was to produce a response, and that response would bring out her expression. But to do so it relied on a slow torture, because, of course, asking was an unreasonable way to collect data. Penny just wanted to go back to sleep, she did not have the resolve for tonight's battle. She clenched the table in an effort to muster her willpower, thinking of Lupin's letter. It was the only thing that helped her keep it together. If she could just get through this, give them what they want, perhaps she could go back to Hogwarts and finally meet Lupin in Hogsmede.

Sooner than Penny would have liked, she was being pushed upright, a box dumped before her. Marshall pulled a peculiar item from it, one that reminded her of a very elaborate percolator, except the bottom where the coffee would normally be collected was full of what looked to be pearls. On the opposite end, where water should have been was a sharp looking object attached to a long tube. One of the dark robed minions took it in his hand and turned on Penny.

"We haven't come to drawing blood, I thought we were friends? Is it because I didn't give you a name like Marshall? You can be Oliver if you just put the sharp object down," said Penny, eyes narrowing darkly.

In anticipation of her fight, the collar contracted, and the feeling of a thousand tiny needles erupted over it. She choked and reached uselessly for her neck, Oliver intercepting her right hand. He pressed it against the arm of her chair and then forced the tip of the tube into the thin skin of her hand, until it was completely hidden beneath and only the tube was visible.

"Have any of you tried asking! Or are you just fond of this barbarism?" Penny gasped.

Silence was their response, but she didn't care. The horrible sensation in her neck was ebbing away, to be replaced by the stinging in her in her hand. She wanted to rip the thing out, but the gesture would only serve to make her more miserable. Instead, she sat back and tried her best to divert her attention from her neck. Her three captors moved to their plexiglas room where they observed her, safe from the damned items that would soon make their appearance. The first one glided across the room as though called by a summoning charm and landed in front of Penny. This one was a sphere that seemed to contain spheres within spheres. How many existed like Russian dolls within it, Penny could not tell. But she did not spend much time investigating. She'd experienced enough of these sessions to no longer care what the physical forms of the dark objects were, they were usually deceiving. It was the horrible chill of this one that left her with that made Penny wary.

The object shuddered to a stop before her, Penny knowing what they wanted her to do. She was to reach out to it with her magic. But doing so was never a pleasant experience. However, being slowly choked to death motivated her to do as was expected, though how any of this was to be determined with a group of mutes was beyond her. Originally, they'd just choked her until her expression responded, but Penny caught on quickly.

Tentatively, she reached out, searching for the sphere. It responded eagerly, reaching back. It felt as though it was grasping her, pulling her deep into its center. There was something there, trapped, and did not want to be anymore. It clung to Penny with an icy grip that sent waves of pain through her. She recoiled away from it, trying to break their connection, but it maintained its hold. Penny picked up the object and lobbed it at the plexiglas, but it stopped just short and zoomed back, ramming into her chest. Her throw clearly annoyed her handlers because her collar began its constriction, causing her to begin a coughing fit. Ignore the collar, she was more horrified by the sphere that was trying to burrow deep into her chest, searing flesh as it went.

Screams of pain escaped her lips as her hands reached up in a desperate attempt to pry the object from her. It seared the flesh of her palms, but did not relent.

Feed me! the sphere hissed, emanating excitement with each cry that escaped Penny's lips.

The room around her felt like it was caving in on Penny, but she refused to let herself break. She needed to ignore her collar and focus on the object before her.

She could hear Snape's harsh voice in her mind reprimanding her, Clear your mind!

She was a witch, an accomplished one with who did not need a wand to do magic, yet she was wrestling with this thing as though she were a muggle. She heeded imagined Snape's voice and cleared her mind, searching for her magic, deciding to put the sphere into a box, creating a barrier between them. The box materialized slowly, all the sides taking shape one by one, until it enclosed the sphere, capturing it. It shook violently in the box before falling to the floor.

Chest heaving, Penny's eyes turned to the percolator, a thick substance was moving through it, originating from her hand. In the container, a red pearl dropped from the tubing and joined its pure brethren. The production pleased Marshall, who sent the box away with a flick of his wand. Penny tried desperately to catch her breath, that sphere was only the beginning of a very long night. She sat back down in her chair, trying to slow her breathing. The room was spinning and she felt on the verge of passing out. Closing her eyes she started reciting A Complete Guide to NEWT Potions Making page three, the Elixir of Euphoria , used to induce irrational happiness which can last for weeks, if brewed incorrectly.

"Powdered bryophyta to be mixed with the sap of a 15 year-old Millwood tree, simmer on low heat in an already warmed cauldron for 12 minutes and 54 seconds," Penny muttered to herself. The exercise settled her mind and eased the tension buried deep in her chest.

The exchanges continued this way, for how long, Penny was not aware. But the longer it went on and the more pearls she produced, and the more exhausted she became, rendering her almost completely unable to call on her magic. The feeling reminded her of short circuiting . When Penny ended up on the floor convulsing from a spell on what appeared to be a bewitched jack-in-the-box, her handlers finally relented. Marshall waved his wand wordlessly over her, while the other two cleared the cursed object away for the night and began collecting the peculiar red pearls from their basin.

Blessedly, her collar was removed, but the devices on her wrist and ankles remained. She knew part of it kept track of her vitals, but she suspected they were also used to direct her magic. The concept was derived from old alchemist lore, to which she had viewed as a fable and sorely wished she'd paid more attention to. But basically, by closing off all but one of her limbs, energy, or magic in this case, was forced to be channeled in the desired direction. In this case, through her right wrist and into the percolator. This knowledge gave her the hunch that the pearls they were collecting were some manifestation of her power, though what they did with it, she had no clue. It made her miss the library and access to Snape's brain, in his vast knowledge he'd likely know what they were doing.

Penny pushed past Marshall as soon as she was free and sat up. She was uncertain if she would be able to stand up, but refused to accept the help offered to her. Grasping the table to pull herself onto her wobbly legs, she ripped the irritating tube from her hand. She did not bother to be careful, causing it to bleed profusely. A bandage was placed over it and she was led back to her room where she collapsed on the bed. Lupin's letter laid open where she'd left it. Pulling herself to her pillow, she clutched the letter to her chest, curling the rest of her into the fetal position. The room around her caved in on her, her body aching from the strands of her hair to her toenails. The Department of Mysteries was a hell like she could have never imagined. Lupin's letter offered a small form of comfort.

He believed in her, she had to be stronger, be smarter. She'd given up too easily these first weeks, assuming due process would bring justice. But as each day passed and she was subjected to experimentation that defined her as little more than a rat, she'd come to suspect the ministry had motives they were not being forthwith about. Her docility only served them, Penny did not owe these monsters her cooperation, they needed to return her freedom, or face the consequences. Focusing her mind on the image of a warm butterbeer in hand and Lupin's warm smile peering across at her, Penny dozed off to sleep.

"PENNY!" said Tonks, exuberantly, when Penny walked into the dank mess hall where she ate her meals.

She'd just left the healer, who'd scowled at her appearance, but said nothing about it out-loud. The relief was too great for Penny to care about the motivations, but seeing Tonk's long hair, which was confusingly pink today, and bright smile brought understanding to the forefront of Penny's mind. They wanted her to look presentable for her visitor so as to not arouse suspicion.

"Hi Tonks, are you wearing a wig?" Penny asked, taking the seat opposite Tonk's, who's floral blouse was quite pretty against their pale skin.

"What? Oh, no. Did I forget to tell you I'm a metamorphmagus? I can change my appearance at will."

"Can you change into my escape rope outta here," Penny sighed, looking down at her dismal meal.

"If I could I would. But cheer up, I've brought you a few things, which was no easy task. Yaxley has set up some extreme surveillance on anything coming your way." Tonks said, trying their best to sound casual.

Penny's foul mood brightened at the site of a pumpkin pastie which she nabbed from Tonk's outstretched hand and promptly stuffed into her mouth. It was a sugary bliss Penny had forgotten existed. Laughing softly, Tonks turned over a bag full of items that included many candies, a chess board, some of her clothing and a stack of opened letters.

"They read my mail!" Penny said indignantly, turning one over to see Harry's scrawl on the front.

"Yeah, and mind you, they will read anything going out too and toss anything they don't like you saying."

Penny gaped at Tonks, who's normally bright and handsome features looked grave.

"What, am I a political prisoner now. Don't I get a lawyer or something?" Penny replied, sardonically.

"Yaxley convinced the Wizengamot your case requires the highest security. Dumbledore has made an appeal, but Yaxley is doing all he can to delay it."

". . .Why?" Penny asked slowly, looking up from the letter in her hands.

Tonks glanced around nervously, as though afraid someone were listening, but the room was empty like it always was when Penny ate her meals.

"Yaxley has ties to the MACUSA, and they're definitely interested in a young, malleable witch with magical potential as great as Grindelwald," Tonks said, almost apologetically.

"The Wizengamot can't just sell me to the highest bidder like a show pony!"

"Of course they shouldn't but that doesn't mean they won't consider doing it. Listen Penny, since the fall of You-Know-Who, people have done a lot of, err-extrajudicial-things to prevent anything like that happening again-"

"I'm not a dark-" Penny interjected.

"You don't have to tell me!" Tonks replied, hands raised. "Dumbledore has a lot of power and will not rest until you are returned to Hogwarts. It just be. . .pertinent for you to be careful, keep your eyes and ears open. Don't say or write anything you don't want anyone else to see," they pressed.

Penny rubbed her temples, but did not reply. Her nightmare was relenting, how was she supposed to convince anyone she wasn't vying to be a future evil dictator?

"My sleep has been awful, I toss and turn every night, it's impossible to get any rest. But you wouldn't know it looking at me," Penny said, suddenly looking up at Tonks.

Their brow furrowed, today's blue eyes searching Penny's face, clearly confused by the abrupt change in subject.

"Insomnia is a pretty normal symptom of stress."

"I just never imagined it'd hurt so much. Every morning I wake up feeling like I've been thrown down a flight of stairs," Penny pressed.

"Hopefully you'll be back in the Gryffindor dormitory soon enough to remedy that problem. In the meantime, play the wizard chess set I bought when you can't sleep. It's charmed, so the white side will play against you. Arthur Weasley got the idea from automated muggle chess," Tonks replied, a glint in their eye that told Penny there was more to the chess set than met the eye.

With a handsome smile, Tonks got to their feet, sweeping their lovely pink locks behind their ear and bade farewell, leaving Penny to collect her things and retreat to her room to look through her letters. She wasted no time in scanning the words from her brother.

I won the first task!

Thank Merlin, he was safe, but "DRAGONS!" Penny yelled out loud, reading Harry's play by play of him and his broom v. a Bulgarian Horntail. She felt like she'd die from the stress of it and was quietly thankful she had not been forced to witness the event.

Dumbledore is appealing, you'll be home in no time. Don't worry about me, Snuffles is here, just focus on how they're helping you

Penny snorted at this last line. 'Helping.' The ministry had no inclination to 'help,' they were just out to extract what they wanted from her. Nonetheless, Penny could not bring herself to write to Harry about the truth. Not that her letter would make it to him. It eased her worry that Sirius was there, but that put him in a precarious position. But, there were only two tasks left, if Harry just did like he always did, meet impossible odds with skill no 4th year would be expected to have, then life would become much simpler. Her brother's safety was all she could wish for at this moment.

The second letter was from Lupin that made Penny's sour mood evaporate with every word.

Penny,

I can't tell you how relieved I am to learn you have been found safe. The agony of these past two months, well, there aren't words for it. Dumbledore is working on this. Stay strong, I'll write when I know more. Again, I am so relieved.

Sending my love,
Remus Lupin.

Penny smiled, she wanted to hug Lupin for his words. They filled her with a kind of comfort she imagined Jame's words would have if he'd survived. In this loneliness she longed for the guidance of a parent, of that comfort. Lupin never failed to be that person. To be fair, Sirius was her godfather and her closest family, and she loved him. But being on the run made it hard to connect with him, and there was no way he could write to her in here, what with the Ministry still fervently searching for him. But truth be told, Penny just connected with Lupin differently than Sirius. His words had a different impact on her.

Looking down at the third letter in her pile, Penny was confused by the elegant penmanship and flipped it over. Curiously, it had not been opened and read like the others, but remained sealed. She opened to find a letter written in emerald ink.

Penny,

I don't really know why I'm writing, but everyone is saying they found you and you've been taken to the Department of Mysteries, father confirmed the truth of this. It's completely ridiculous, and my father says Yaxley is using it to gain favor with the MACUSA. He seems to be negotiating a side-deal with some officials there who are afraid to lose power in the upcoming election. I'm not sure what he's promised, but father is not fond of Yaxley after he supported a tax increase last year.
Anyway, you've always been alright, even for a Potter. With father's connections I'm able to bypass the security measures they have for you, so if you'd like anything I'll get it to you, I can't even imagine the horrendous living situation there.

Also, beware of Yaxley, he is known to have an untoward appreciation for young girls.

Don't worry about what you put in the letter, as long as it's addressed to me it won't be opened.

Yours,
Draco

The letter certainly read like the mannerism of Draco Malfoy, but Penny found it hard to believe it could be real. Perhaps she had misjudged the boy. They had sat beside each other on and off since her first year, and it was true that in the last year or so that became more frequent, but the prejudice of her brother was a hard thing to overcome. This letter, it was something to think on. She needed to tread carefully, but perhaps there was a play here, if Draco were willing, to get her out of this predicament.

At the bottom of her pile she pulled out her final letter, her eyes falling on the name signed at the bottom, Severus Snape. Her heart skipped a beat, chest constricting uncomfortably. She'd asked him to write, but for the man to actually oblige her, she dare not believe it. Almost afraid of what the contents contained, she began reading.

Dear Miss Potter,

Penny gave a dry laugh, imagining her potions master scowling at his page as he etched this salutation. It had to have brought great pain to his dignity.

I expect you have realized by now that you are expected to keep up with your studies even while in the custody of the Ministry. If you intend to pass my class you will do well to finish the attached prompt by the deadline, no exceptions. I warn you not to delude yourself into thinking I will give you special treatment because of your presence in the Department of Ministries, I am told you have been given the best accommodation, so do not bother to try and convince me otherwise. Nevertheless, I am not an unreasonable Professor, and seeing as you cannot attend class physically, I have painstakingly given of my time to create a set of assignments I believe will suffice in ensuring you are held to the same standards as your classmates. I will assign weekly prompts that you will answer with the book I lent to you. I expect well organized arguments, substantiated by evidence, but the length is up to you. See your first assignment below.

Best Regards,

Professor Severus Snape,
Potions Master
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Penny started dumbstruck at the letter. Of course the awful man was threatening to fail her, even though she'd been arrested. That deluded, psychopath simply desired to torment her at any chance he got, she fumed to herself. Yet, out of curiosity she looked down at the prompt, wondering how the infuriating man honestly believed assigning her a NEWT text was a fair way to evaluate her.

Reference pages: 4132, 4051, 3722,

While it is impossible to manufacture or imitate love, amortentia is labeled a love potion because it causes powerful infatuation or obsession. The person under its control will do anything for the person who administered it.
Discuss the differences between these effects and real infatuation. Include historical evidence of the influence of infatuation on persons behaviour.

Penny blinked, reading and re-reading the prompt. She'd never read anything so absurd coming from Snape. Never in all her years at Hogwarts had she seen such a useless and open-ended prompt, so unrelated to actual potions making. It was almost as if his prompt was purposefully ridiculous, like he wanted it to get her attention. She peered back at the numbers, her hunch confirmed. There were nowhere near 4,000 pages in A Complete Guide to NEWT Potions Making, but those sifting through her mail would not know this.

Her brain whirred: Snape was writing to her in code.

Yanking her book free of her bag, she quickly began searching. Page 4, the first paragraph, third sentence and second word. She repeated this process with all the numbers, scribbling the words in order. When she stopped she looked at the message Snape had painstakingly written to her to avoid prying eyes.

Popularity is everything

Brows furrowed, Penny thought perhaps she'd gotten the code wrong. But then a memory came to the forefront of her mind. In her first-ever potions class she remembered distinctly how Snape had interrogated Harry, asking him questions no first year would ever be expected to know. It was the beginning of a mutual hatred between the two of them. Neither Harry nor Penny knew at that time Snape's hatred spawned from a grudge he held against their father, James. But the intensity of his hatred made the memory very vivid in Penny's mind. After humiliating Harry, Penny remembered Snape saying,

"Clearly fame isn't everything,"

The reference had to be on purpose so Penny would know she'd gotten the code right. However, he'd purposefully changed fame to popularity as a reference to the way he referred to her as "popular Penny", usually as an insult to her character. But here he'd flipped the meaning of his quote. Could he be suggesting there was something useful to her popularity? She glanced back at the rest of the prompt, thinking hard.

"Powerful infatuation" she muttered out loud.

He wanted an example of infatuation, he was pointing her away from her book, but where. Then the pretty emerald scrawl caught her eye.

Draco Malfoy.

Snape's message became crystal clear, causing Penny to smirk inwardly. The man never let anything be easy. Of course he made no references to their last conversation. The note's purpose was all utility, but he'd beat Penny with a technicality. She simply demanded he write first, and he did. He was so unlike Lupin in his refusal to be caught expressing any form of emotion. Apparently, it was only acceptable to be vulnerable in moments when he had plausible deniability.

For as annoying as the man was, Penny could not help stare at the letter, clutching the worn bear he'd given her. While everyone else told her to trust Dumbledore's attempts to free her, Penny knew it would be Snape who got her out, it was always Snape.