A/n: Written for the Marauders 4 Summer Challenge. I was to write for Prongs, who requested: Lord of the Rings romance with Legolas, Harry Potter anything, Marauders, Tamora Pierce (Kel), Pirates of the Caribbean, angst, Oliver fics, Draco fics, Malfoy fics, Draco/Ginny. So I picked out of those choices what I wanted to write, and here's the result. This is dedicated to Prongs.

Disclaimer: Ya, like I own ANYTHING.

Additonal Marauders 4 Disclaimer: This is actually a serious fic, so be prepared for that. :P (No really, it is.)

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I've heard people ask, "What is it like?"

And the reply often is, "It's cold."

Which is entirely true. The people nod and accept this answer with a shiver before moving on, not truly comprehending what the person means by the words, "It's cold". They think they understand, as they feel uncomfortable and chilled walking down the darkened, grimy hall that separates the cells. The person who gave the reply, however, after less than a few days her, has an entirely different definition and idea of "cold".

To be cold, in this place, is not just because of the temperature. There is a constant feeling of frost coating everything, though you can see none nor can you see your breath. Not that you can much of anything here. Your skin might start out slightly red at first because of the low temperature, but it doesn't take long for it to turn a sickly, pasty white tinged with green or yellow. Very little food that's completely stale or mouldy, with even less water and no sunlight penetrating the gloom will do that to you. On top of that (as if that isn't enough), you feel icy on the inside, right down to your core. You're physically frozen and mentally drained.

All that, I can handle.

It's when They come slinking around, drawing slow, rattling breaths, pouring out cold, polluting my mind, sucking you dry of any warmth or happiness. That is almost more than I can deal with, and a lot more than most people can get through. All you have to do is look around and you will see what I mean.

When they come around to make sure you have no hope of any kind or any fight left in you, I push myself as far back as possible, away from the bars, as close as I can get to that hole in the wall that the architects had the gall to call a window. I shut my eyes tight against It, praying that today, today, it will pass me by…

It never does.

I'm innocent. I think determinedly. You can't do this to me. I'm innocent.

You're wrong. They whisper in the most chilling, sinister voice that no one an hear but me. A trickle of extra cold air brushes past me though It stays in the hall on the other side of the bars. You convinced them to change their decision. You killed them. That killed them. Because of you, they were murdered.

As They slink away, and you are left lying on the disgusting, filthy floor, you are once again utterly alone and completely miserable. Alone with your darkest fears and thoughts and deeds of the past. Shivering, knowing nothing on this earth will ever be worse, that you could not possibly experience anything worse, wishing you were dead, is when you will truly understand.

Only then will you know what cold, and to feel deeply cold, really is.

END

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A/n: Ah, a serious fic. Ooo... lol. Well review me (Padfoot - the one who wrote this one) as I ADORE reviews:D Check out my other stuff if your interested (under the penname Red Bess Rackham). Ok, Padfoot out.