The title for chapter twenty-one is from…Little Women. Congrats to Wickedgreenchild and Easterly Winds. Heh heh. That was a harder one.

Ah'd like to thank GothPhantom and especially CardboardCreative for their help in this chapter. The latter beta-ed this chapter for me. Long story short, Mara and I are in a slight disagreement and I needed a temporary (or maybe not so temporary) new beta. Cardboard kindly volunteered. Her 'destruction of my chapter' was bloody amazing, let me tell you.

Cardboard also wrote my wonderful new summary for me. Thanks muchly, friend.

And I think I had a little bit too much of Casino Royale (James Bond) before writing this chapter.

Chapter 22: Lost in the Wilderness

Fiyero Tiggular had never felt more useless in his life. It had been one whole week since the fiasco in Diagon Alley, and no one in the Order had been able to gain any leads or evidence pointing them to Elphaba's location. There wasn't a single clue in Diagon, or even Knockturn Alley – no whispered rumors or discarded papers that could lead to Elphaba and the Death Eaters.

Elphaba doesn't deserve this, Fiyero thought to himself hotly. Hasn't she already been through enough? He aimed a vicious kick at a nearby rock, resulting in a bruised toe instead of satisfaction.

He glared at the rock as though it were the cause of all his problems. He knew it was irrational to act this way, but there wasn't anything else for him to do. Although he refused to admit it out loud, Fiyero knew it was highly likely that Elphaba would die by Voldermort's hands.

Fiyero emerged from the cluster of trees and collected shrubbery to find Glinda sitting along in the spot where Elphaba would when she had wished to be alone. No, he berated himself, stop thinking about Elphaba in past tense. She's survived attempts on her life in Oz by the handful. It would be murder for her to give up now. Oh…

He cautiously walked over to the recoiling blonde. "Hi Glinda," he greeted lightly, wary of her reaction. Glinda looked up at him, not having noticed his approaching form. He indicated an old tree stump several paces from where she sat, "Would you mind?"

"No. Go ahead," Glinda said quietly, minus her usual sunny demeanor. They sat quietly for a few moments, drawing comfort from each other's presence. Then, Glinda took a breath and began to speak. "Fiyero, do you think that Elphie might be dea- err, not coming back?"

Fiyero hesitated. He was unsure of if he should lie for her sake or be honest. In all likelihood, Elphaba was dead for hours now, but announcing that so bluntly to Glinda wouldn't be the kindest course of action. Glinda had always been touchy.

"Fiyero?" she said his name louder, trying to break him from thought.

"Glinda, I-" Fiyero broke off, planning how to express his intuition diplomatically, or even comfortingly. He decided to take it slow, "Look Glinda, you have to understand that Voldermort is more than unethical. Typically, he doesn't murder prisoners quickly. He likes to- well, let's just assume Elphaba is still alive."

"What does he like to do, Fiyero?" pressed the blonde, realizing his sentence went in a completely different direction. She had an idea of what came next, but dreading it, wishing she was wrong.

"Voldermort?"

Glinda nodded expectantly. Fiyero looked around for a distraction. "Oh, well… he, uh, hey look, a bird! Helikestotorturehisprisoners." Fiyero pointed and blew his words out in one breath, his hair doing a handsome flop as his elbow jerked.

"What?" Glinda furrowed her brow. To Fiyero's dismay, she didn't attempt to look at any birds. "Sorry, what did you say?"

Fiyero almost laughed at how much charm he'd lost through the years. There was a hollow sensation in his gut, reminding him that Glinda was expecting an answer and he was to be the bearer of unbearable news.

"Voldermort likes to kill slowly. There's a chance Elphaba could still be alive… but I fear she won't be well."

Glinda's eyes went wide with a cherub-like look, riddled with sadness. "When you say 'kill slowly', do you mean he enjoys torturing people to death?"

"Um..." Fiyero muttered, practicing several methods of what to say. "Not in Elphaba's case, I don't think. Being that she's a major Order member, he would want to keep her alive. She possesses some valuable information. She wouldn't be killed immediately or hurt permanently, I think."

"Sweet Oz," Glinda breathed, shaking slightly, "But if she's got all that information, then all the more reason to hurt her!"

"This is a war, for Merlin's sake!" Fiyero cursed, aggravated that Glinda would press something this painful into a conversation. "What do you think is bound to happen to a prisoner in a magical war?"

Glinda averted her eyes from him and looked at the lake as she blinked back tears. A calm breeze swept in their direction, almost acting as a powerful mediator. It asked Fiyero to apologize.

"Sorry," he said quickly.

"No. We can't beat around the bush, and I deserve to know the truth. I'm glad you were honest with me."

"Okay Glinda, listen." He paused as Glinda's eyes swept over him indifferently. "I don't think it's healthy for you to act like this."

She opened her mouth and ejected a syllable to retaliate, but Fiyero cut her off with a hand and a louder voice. "I don't care what lies you've spun for everyone to feel better. For one thing, you've barley eaten this past week. You wander around all night long and avoid me, Harry, and everyone else for that matter. You can't stop living because Elphaba's gone. She wouldn't want you to mourn like this."

"Don't worry, Fiyero," Glinda said softly, "I won't keep living like this, because Elphaba's coming back. I know she is."

Fiyero sighed. "You know that the chances-"

"No. Elphaba's stronger than that. You should know that. She's coming back. I can feel it in every part of me: My bones…my heart."

What she said caused Fiyero to fall silent, forgetting what he was going to say. He watched as she closed her eyes, probably to prevent herself from crying. But really, she recited a small prayer to all the gods she learnt of as a child, and even all the ones she didn't know of.

Please, please let my words be true. Please let Elphie be alright. Please let her be okay. I would never forgive myself

Drip… drip… drip.

Elphaba sighed with exasperation and ignored the spasm of pain reverberating through her. She turned away from the source of water meekly. She couldn't stand this helpless, hopeless feeling. She was at the mercy of others and vulnerable as a young child.

Over the past week, she'd been subjected to any and all torture available at the Death Eaters' disposal. They threw curses and spells as her like dirt. They were determined to break not only her body, but her spirit, despite her impeccable silence about the Order. It just provoked them.

It was a never-ending cycle of torture, interrogation, and mockery. Elphaba wondered casually how much more of this she could take and how much longer it would take for her to die.

Footsteps echoed on stone, the noise increasing in loudness like a hypnotic beat. She didn't turn to look, weary and expectant. The footsteps ceased, the cell door creaked open and the shadow of a looming, poised Death Eater appeared.

"Good morning, Thropp," he sang jovially. His voice triggered Elphaba's recognition, as he was the same person who captured her a week ago.

His voice. It was familiar. Too familiar. It stung her ears.

"I hear you and Malfoy had a swell time yesterday," the Death Eater continued. "I look forward to the same hospitality from you here in your cell. Unless, of course, you tell me what I want to know."

Elphaba turned her face and widened her eyes in surprise. "Ronald Weasley?" she gasped, trying to sit up. Pain shot up from her hips to her armpits, searing her muscles and preventing her from moving, "You're- you-"

It was rare that Elphaba was baffled or lost for words, but this was one of those 'forehead-slapping moments'- if she could reach her forehead, that is. No matter how she disliked or looked down upon the redheaded ignoramus, she never suspected a member of the 'Golden Trio' of spying on the Order.

"Yes?" he glowered at her, "You had something to say?"

"You're the spy. Aren't you?" Elphaba finished lamely.

Ron's gaze bore into her own for a minute, and then his mouth twisted into a little smile. He brought his hands together to emit slow, ringing claps.

"Congratulations," he said sarcastically. "You're the first to figure it out. Don't you feel that bubbly, special feeling?"

Elphaba clenched her jaw. They attacked her verbally even after she was unconscious, especially Ron. Now that she thought back, she could remember his voice in many of the torture sessions. He normally kept his mask on, but that didn't prevent him from mocking her.

Ron stuck a comfortable pose against the walls of the cell. "In fact, I think this calls for a celebration. Just for you. Crucio!"

Elphaba bit her lip to try and keep from screaming, but her teeth cut into her flesh, drawing blood. A choked, defeated cry escaped her as she was claimed under the horrible burning and demented sensations that accompanied the infamous torture curse.

"Now, Thropp" Ron whispered as the curse was taken off, "either I can enjoy myself, or you can be able to see later. Your choice."

"Never," Elphaba glared at the smug Death Eater who bore his freckles proudly. "You bastard."

With surprising force, Ron bunched the front of Elphaba's robes and thrust her off the ground, hurling her against the stone wall. "My parents were married, thank you very much," he said calmly, but with a hint of a threat in his voice. "You'll be dead soon if you don't tell me what I want to know!"

Elphaba hit the wall, bouncing off it to slump on the ground. The nauseating sound of ribs cracking, and the actual cracking, made her wince. Instead of vomiting, however, she shot Ron a wry smile, which he reacted to with visible irritation.

"Try me," she growled. She coughed, wheezing some as she tried to hoist herself up, but was kicked down before she had the opportunity. Like a defenseless puppy, she was sent sprawling across the cold floor.

"Do you care to run that by me again?" warned Ron as his nostrils flared. "I'll forgive you, because I'm a good man that way. If you just tell me what I want to know, you'll be left alone."

"You'll have to kill me first," Elphaba snapped. Sucking in air and wheezing it out was proving a painful task, but she wasn't about to succumb to the pressure. Deciding that breathing was more important than making witty comments, she focused more on evening out her breaths. Her chest was still tight with pain.

"Oh no, Fae," Ron leered. "My Lord would not be pleased if you died. He

wishes to deliver the final blow himself. No matter. You'll be begging for death soon."

"There will never come a day when I beg you for anything," hissed the green captive.

"You're so sure of yourself. It's about time to knock your off your pedestal," Ron shrugged. "Would you beg me for your girlfriend's life?"

Elphaba narrowed her eyes, ignoring how strained her face felt. "Don't you dare touch Glinda, you pathetic, brainless, impotent-"

"Or you'll do what?" Ron raised an eyebrow and waved his wand around in boredom. "In fact, my Lord promised her to me when she comes looking for you. Oh, and I know she will. You can count on that."

Elphaba felt a burning feeling grow inside her, but it wasn't from pain. It was from rage. Baring her teeth, she summoned her remaining energy to transform into her animagus form.

Something went wrong. Instead of the easy transition from human to animal, not a trace of change occurred. With a yelp of surprise, Elphaba was thrown several feet from where she had been lying as a sudden jolt of energy activated in the cell.

Ron smirked down at her. "Oh, did I forget to mention? There's a shield up preventing animagus transformations in here. We don't want any kitties wandering around. Now, where were we?" He grinned. "Ah, yes. Glinda."

"If you so much as lay a hand on her," Elphaba began in a low, inhuman voice, "I promise that I will hunt you down like the murderer you are."

"Somehow, I can't imagine you conducting much hunting in this state," laughed the Death Eater. At that point, Elphaba truly loathed him and thought Ronald to be nothing more than a frenzied little boy. In her physical agony, there was nothing in her world besides her, Ron, and the intense hate she had for him.

However, Ron brought a different tactic to damage Elphaba. He was going to attack her in the lowest way possible: by puncturing the weak wounds of Glinda.

"Look, Thropp. I'll make it simple for you. Tell me everything and I won't lay a hand on your girlfriend. But, stay silent and I'll make her death so slow and unbearable that she'll be speaking in tongues for me to end it all."

Elphaba cast her eyes downward and didn't say anything.

"Come now, make your decision. The night's not getting any younger."

Elphaba thought for a moment. She would rather die than let Glinda get hurt, and yet, betraying the Order wasn't an option, either. How could the Death Eaters get close enough to Glinda? Still, Ron's promising tone was unnerving. What if Glinda really did come looking for her? Elphaba knew that she was the rasher of the two, but if Glinda felt there was no other choice but to strike out on her own…

"Come on, Thropp. Choose," Ron urged, gruffer than before.

Elphaba clenched her fists by her side. "If you think that I'm going to betray the Order, you're even stupider than I anticipated," she laughed bitterly, tasting blood. "You won't get a single word out of me."

And as the first of many painful blows was delivered, the Death Eater eerily calmer, as though he was a different man outside these walls, Elphaba closed her eyes and hoped that Glinda would not leave the Hogwarts Grounds to come looking for her.

He was in a cold room. Very cold. He shivered and looked around. There wasn't a soul there. Every crevice was still. No. Wait. Movement. He jumped backwards as a large snake slithered lazily through the open door and into the hallway.

Harry immediately recognized the snake as Nagini. Careful to not make a sound, he stalked the snake down several levels. Looking out the window, he noticed a gravestone covered hill, decorated with a few rotting trees. It was familiar, but Harry couldn't identify how.

He decided to worry about it later, continuing to tip-toe a reasonable space behind Nagini into the basement of the house. As suddenly as Nagini had appeared, however, she disappeared, leaving Harry alone in the dark hallway. There was a beckoning steel door at the end of said hallway.

He warily made his way to the door and put his hand on the handle, speculating on where his Voldemort-induced vision had taken him this time. As his hand reached for the door, it was opened. Lucius Malfoy stood toweringly in front of him.

"Malfoy, have you informed the other Death Eaters that we have moved our prisoner?" a cold, slippery voice came from within the room. Voldemort.

"Yes, my Lord," Malfoy answered obediently. "They've yet to arrive."

Harry took this opportunity to slip into the room before Malfoy could close the door again. He was now in a room with walls made entirely of steel. Chains decorated one corner of the room.

Harry realized with growing horror that this was designed to be a makeshift torture chamber. His breathing became rapid as he realized that the chains bound none other than Fae. She had been shackled so that she could barely move. And from her current shape, she didn't seem to be up for a struggle anyway.

He watched, unable to interfere, as Voldemort descended on the battered form of the green witch.

"All this loyalty," Voldemort sneered, "and for what? The people you believe are your friends aren't anywhere to be found. Not Potter, or Granger, or even Dumbledore. Not a soul searching for the poor, green witch. Not that they'd know where we are." As if she were a pet, Voldermort lifted a crooked hand and patted her lightly, his tone mocking. "They've abandoned you to die alone. All alone. Just answer what I ask and the sting won't be so bad."

"No!" Harry cried desperately, although Elphaba wouldn't be able to hear him. "Fae, hold on! I promise, we're coming! Where is this place? I need to know!"

"I will not be remembered as a traitor," Elphaba spat, her voice clear for how mangled she appeared, as she glared at the Dark Lord, "You will be defeated someday, even if I'm not around to see it."

"Such a strong spirit," Voldemort mused. "It's a pity to waste. Hmm. Perhaps Malfoy will break you this round."

Harry felt his stomach contract as he saw something in Elphaba's darkened eyes that he had never seen before. Fear.

Before Malfoy could walk over to Elphaba, Voldemort bent down and put a hand on her chin, turning her face towards him. "The Order will never find you. Your screams will go unheard. Your body will be left here to rot in the house of my filthy Muggle father. You're making it hard on yourself, Thropp. Think about it."

As Voldemort turned to leave Malfoy to his job, Elphaba summoned up her strength and spat at his feet. Eyes flashing with rage, the Dark Lord spun around.

"I see now!" he announced, his voice creeping along Harry's spine. "You want to end yourself in the worst possible way. Don't worry, Thropp. I can accommodate your request. Crucio!"

Elphaba's high, withered screaming intermingled with Harry's as a searing pain seemingly split his head in two. His scar was burning and his head was on fire. He was drowning in the flames. Death would be preferable to this.

And then, he was being shaken awake. "Harry! Harry!"

Someone was calling him, tugging at his shoulders. But who? "Potter!"

It was more urgent this time. "Wake up!"

On command, he opened his eyes to meet a worried Madame Pomphrey and an unreadable Dumbledore leaning over his bed.

"Did you have a vision?" Dumbledore demanded, maybe a little too pressingly. "What happened?"

"Riddle House," Harry said, discovering his hoarse throat, "Fae is in the Riddle House."

Coming up: A rescue plan gone (somewhat) wrong and a reason for Glinda and Hermione to panic.

Hehe. Next chapter is the big cliffhanger- although it's probably not the cliffhanger that you might think. OMG, I'm so excited (you might not be, though…)!!!

-Wolfie