The next few days were boring as hell. Every morning, Rose would go to the dining room, eat with Crouch in silence, then go back to her bedroom, then eat with him again, be bored to death some more, and eat supper. Every night, she would feel a rush of fear just before falling asleep, but Crouch hadn't come to her since their wedding night and Rose was grateful for that.

She filled her time with reading every book she could find in the house. At first, she was afraid to go outside her room, but soon she decided that it was high time to find something to occupy herself with. The girl would go insane if she had to read, once again, about love affairs of some dull, proper ladies. Now that she thought of it, the books in her bedroom had probably belonged to Crouch's mother. Rose was horrified at the thought that someone could have actually enjoyed those shallow love stories.

Winky showed Rose the library, which was full of more interesting books. There were even muggle ones, such as works of Dickens, Shakespeare, or Agatha Christie. Rose was glad that she could now read all of them because when she was at Hogwarts or when she was working at St. Mungo's, she didn't have much time for that.

However, while reading was tolerable, she preferred painting; it was her favorite activity, but she had no idea if she were allowed to do it here.

The gardens of the manor turned out to be quite vast, but Rose didn't spend much time there. October's weather was cold and the rain poured nearly all the time. From the windows in a living room, the girl could see the beautiful English garden with its pond, wooden bridge, garden pavilion, and variety of trees and other plants. She was sure that it must look wonderful during spring, when everything bloomed. Winky did her best to keep it well-groomed, but Rose had a feeling that no one had entered the garden in a long time. Maybe even since the death of Crouch's mother.

As for Crouch, he hadn't been paying any attention to his wife. He ignored her during meals, and she rarely saw him in the hallway. Rose was waiting in fear for his next visit in her bedroom, but he seemed to forget completely about her existence and that he was supposed to produce a pure-blooded heir. He left her in peace and Rose truly didn't mind, but after a week of his total indifference she had had enough. Winky was kind and always happy to talk with her mistress, but the girl missed the company of another human being.

She often thought about the Order and decided that she should wait for the best chance to escape and not fight her husband openly. Even if she were to be pregnant, she would flee from this hell. No one from the Order tried to make contact with her, but she wasn't surprised; Voldemort could have made it seem like she had been killed. The Ministry would surely want to hush up the case, with great help from none other than Lucius Malfoy. It could take weeks if not months for Dumbledore to find her.

Secretly, Rose hoped that one day Snape would come by, on some kind of Death Eaters' business, but he hadn't appeared so far. She still wasn't sure if she could trust him, but he was her only potential ally in this place.

She made a promise to herself that she would survive, no matter what.


On one of the many rainy evenings, Rose sat at the table in the dining room, playing with her food. Her husband was eating, not glancing at her even once.

'I could kill him now with this knife', she thought tightening her grip on the cutlery. 'Or poison him. Or strangle him while he sleeps'.

She was pulled away from her murderous thoughts by a pair of dark eyes, staring at her silently. She raised her head from her meal and looked back at Crouch. He didn't turn away, just stared at her without a word. Rose shifted uncomfortably.

'Is he using legilimency on me? Oh crap.'

The wizard blinked once and turned his attention back to his plate. Rose relaxed in relief. Maybe he could sense if someone was hostile towards him. It would be quite a useful ability, for a Death Eater.

Rose was tired of the horrible silence between them. Her fear lessened a little through the previous days, especially when Crouch didn't make a move to torment or rape her. Winky was completely devoted to her master and talked about him constantly, and Rose couldn't help but indiscriminately grow curious about her new husband. Of course, she was still afraid of him, but she also felt the strange need to talk to him, get to know him first. Though she supposed it would be easier to bear it the next time, she needed some kind of measure of the man, so she could anticipate whether he would decide to make use of his marital rights again. If she actually had a clue what was going on in that insane head of his, she could predict what he would do next.

Rose decided it was time to make a contact with him. Quickly, before she could change her mind, she asked:

"So, how was your day?"

Crouch was silent for a couple of seconds before answering simply:

"Good."

'Well, that was a proper conversation, there's no doubt.', the girl thought, but pushed further, seeing that he wasn't about to hex her on the spot.

"Mine was good too, if you are so eager to know," she said and immediately regretted her decision. Crouch was now looking directly at her with unreadable expression on his face. She gulped, but didn't turn away her eyes from him. Her hands were trembling lightly and she hoped that he didn't notice.

After a moment, her husband chuckled and gave her a smile that sent goose bumps across her skin. It was a sudden change in his features, making him look more like a lunatic.

"I see that my wife feels neglected. Forgive me, my dear, I will pay you more attention from now on." he said, before returning to his meal.

Rose paled.

'What has gotten into me to speak to him like that? He's as mad as a hatter! He had been leaving me alone through all those days and now I was stupid enough to provoke him.'

The girl longed for human company and in her loneliness she had forgotten that the only other human being in this house was a deranged psychopath. He dulled her vigilance with his indifference and waited for her to make the first move. Now she couldn't complain if he tormented her, could she? She was the one to ask for his attention, after all. Bloody brilliant.

The rest of the evening passed in peace. Rose waited in her bedroom, convinced that Crouch would come for her this time. She was lying in her bed, unable to fall asleep, listening intently to any sound outside of the room. Her imprisonment was driving her crazy. She wanted something to happen, to talk to someone, to go on the streets, see the crowds in Diagon Alley. Her unreasonable behavior this day proved that she needed a change, before she would provoke her husband to Crucio her.

It was too late, he would get her sooner or later. But was it really her fault? It would be naïve to think that they were going to live here together without any contact with each other. He would remember her presence eventually, no matter what she said to him.


She woke up the next day, noticing with a surprise that Crouch hadn't come last night. Winky served her breakfast in her bedroom, because her master wasn't home.

'Probably too busy with groveling at You-Know-Who's feet', the witch thought when Winky informed her about his absence. It was good news, though, because it meant that Rose was free of him for the next few hours. As far as she was concerned, he could move to his Lord's place permanently. She preferred him not being there over him being there and ignoring her completely. It unsettled her, because she had no idea what he was thinking and what he would do next.

She spent whole day in the library, reading 'The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes'. It was getting dark sooner as the days grew shorter. October was coming to an end, making space for a cold and windy November. It was warm in the manor, as Winky did her best to please her new mistress. Rose grew very fond of the little creature, who was always happy to talk with her. She admired Winky's loyalty and love towards her master; it was clear that the house-elf cared for him greatly since the day he was born.

"Master was very cute as a child, Mistress! As good as gold. There were no troubles with him, always so quiet!" Winky chirped one of those days, while cleaning Rose's bedroom.

Rose considered it very strange for a small boy to be so shy and silent, though. She always imagined them to be brisk and loud, eager to play and stir up trouble. It was normal for a child to be like that, not to sit obediently and read a book like an adult. Nevertheless she didn't comment on it, knowing that in 'proper pure-blooded families' things were done quite differently from others.

The girl was now sitting in the leather armchair in the library, too lost in her reading to notice that someone had entered the room.

"I see that you like crime novels." said a masculine voice from behind her.

She nearly jumped out of her skin at the sound, but the owner of the voice didn't seem to notice. Instead, he sat opposite her on a sofa, crossing his legs. He was wearing a dark brown, pinstriped frock coat. Rose couldn't deny that he looked quite good in it. For a deranged murderer, that is.

"There's plenty of them here, you can read as many as you want. I enjoy them too, especially the ones about Hercule Poirot." he said casually. Rose blinked a few times, not sure if she heard him correctly, before answering:

"But they are written by muggles." she looked at him with disbelief.

"That doesn't mean I can't enjoy them. Muggles invented toilet paper too, and it doesn't stop me from using it."

He had a point there. Rose stared at him like he grew another pair of hands, but said nothing.

"You know, I have a small request." she slowly told him instead. He looked at her expectantly and she continued.

"I like to paint and I was wondering if I could do it in my spare time here. It's hard to sit in my bedroom all day, doing nothing and as I am to remain here for a long time-" 'The rest of my life probably',she thought, but kept that to herself, "-I could occupy myself with something useful. If it's not a problem, of course."

He was silent for a moment before replying:

"It's not a problem. You can do what you want as long as it's not getting in my way. Winky will provide you with tools and she'll show you to one of the rooms downstairs. You can make your paint room there."

"Thank you," she smiled at him.

She was very happy, she loved painting, it was the best way for her to relax and forget about her problems. He stood up and picked out one of the books from the bookshelf. He returned to his seat and started to read. They sat in silence for some time, each one occupied with their reading. At first, Rose felt quite nervous, but after few minutes she started to relax. It wasn't that bad, really, sitting with him in the same room, while he was behaving like a normal person. She glanced at him from time to time, curious of his thoughts. It was the first time since the wedding, that he acknowledged her existence. At around seven o'clock, Crouch stood and told her:

"Come, it's time for supper."

Nodding, she followed him to the dining room obediently, where they ate in complete silence, as always. Rose was feeling much better now that she could devote herself to painting and through the whole meal, she considered what she should paint first. She was so glad, she had almost forgotten about her fear of Crouch. He didn't bother her as he ate quietly beside her. Rose wasn't sure why she hadn't been tortured yet, but it wasn't as if she was complaining. Maybe she could survive somehow in here, until Dumbledore found her and took her away.

She finished before him and got up quickly, eager to go to her bedroom and start planning her work but he stopped her.

"Wait," he said without sparing her a glance, "We'll go together."

As she sat down, she wondered why he suddenly wanted them to go upstairs together, since he had always done whatever he wanted whenever he liked, without a second thought about Rose. Once he finished his meal, he offered her his arm.

'Now, that's suspicious.'

They were at the halfway point of the corridor, when it finally dawned on Rose, what was going to happen next.

'Oh, no. No, no, no, no.' She stopped in her track and stared at Crouch with eyes wide from fear. He looked at her with serious expression.

"Don't make me force you. Remember what I told you on the first night?"

She nodded, fighting back tears and he proceeded to lead her down the hallway. He opened the door of Rose's bedroom and ushered her in. She didn't have much time to think of a way to escape when she felt his lips on hers and his arms closing around her waist.


Winter came early that year. At the beginning of December, the first snow had fallen, covering gardens with white blanket. Rose sat in her painting room with a brush in one hand, her work nearly finished. The picture featured a garden pavilion covered in snow. The sky was navy blue and a faint light came from the small building.

Her other paintings hung on the walls. She didn't want Barty to see them; he would probably criticize her works and call them complete rubbish. Unfortunately, soon there would be no space in the room for them and she would have to find another place to store them.

The girl looked at the clock and sighed. It was time for dinner. She went to the nearest bathroom to wash away the paint and proceeded to the dining room. Her husband was already there, as always. He didn't look at her when she sat down either, as always. She took in her meal without gusto. The fear that she had felt constantly running through her first weeks in this house was slowly fading. Crouch hadn't cursed her nor beaten her at all. There were few times when he threatened to do so, when she talked back to him, but besides that no harm was done to her.

Excepting those rare occasions when he would come to her bedroom to claim his marital rights.

Rose felt awfully lonely. She had Winky of course, but it wasn't the same. Crouch barely spoke with her, too preoccupied with his Dark Lord. Most of the time, he was absent and even when he was at home, he didn't seem to care about his wife. She was as good as a piece of furniture.

During nights, the girl often cried herself to sleep, thinking of her parents and the Order. There was no sign from Dumbledore and sometimes she wondered if he was even looking for her. She had no idea how to escape from here and sometimes she caught herself thinking that she would stay in this house till her death, so there was no use in dreaming of fleeing.

From time to time, Crouch would come to her bedroom, but he never stayed for long. It was all just duty for him, duty to provide Voldemort's army with a new pure-blooded recruit. It was great that he wasn't cruel to her, but Rose found his indifference almost as agonizing as his threats. There were times when she just wanted to shout at him, to provoke some human reaction from him, but she wasn't suicidal, so she kept quiet. She wanted to live, even if it meant to be a prisoner for the rest of her days.

When she lay in her bed, she imagined what it would be like to have a loving husband, who would embrace her at nights, sleep with her, talk with her, love her. She remembered her silly, little crush on Sirius, how she blushed whenever he spoke to her. It seemed like it had been years since the last time they saw each other. She thought about her own husband, who seemed to be completely uninterested in anything but his master. To her horror, Rose realized that she actually longed for his attention. Maybe it was her solitude that was driving her crazy, but she kind of liked talking with him, even if that happened rarely. He was not so bad, when he wasn't acting like a psycho. Of all of his off putting behaviors, that tongue-tic of his creeped the hell out of her most. Rose noticed that he did it when he was nervous, angry or just excited.

He was the only person she had seen since October and she once again unintentionally felt the need to have some contact with him.

On one of those cold, snowy days, Crouch had come to her painting room, while she was working. It surprised her, for he had never showed any interest in what she was doing. Sometimes he would sit in the library with her, but that was all.

He didn't say a word, just stood there, eyeing the paintings on the walls, with his hands clasped behind his back. Rose didn't cease her working, glancing at him warily from behind the easel.

"I like that one," he said pointing at the large painting of a young girl in the arms of a man, who was riding in a black chariot. The girl had her head turned back, probably to see what was left behind her. The man had his hand around her waist though, to prevent her from escaping. He was covering the girl with his black cloak, staring straight ahead, hurrying up the horses.

"That's Hades and Persephone," explained Rose.

"Who?" he asked with a frown. The girl rolled her eyes.

"It's a muggle myth. I have read about it in a book, which I borrowed from my classmate, back at Hogwarts."

"Tell me about it." he demanded, before taking a sit in a nearest chair with arms crossed. Rose stared at him, shocked by his insolence, but he didn't seem to care at all.

"Well," she began, "There was a goddess of the harvest, called Demeter. She had one daughter, named Persephone, whom she loved deeply.
One day young Persephone was picking flowers on a meadow, when Hades, god of underworld saw her and grew to desire her. He abducted her and brought her to his kingdom, leaving her mother in despair, plants and living beings dying from her sorrow.
Demeter searched for the girl for many days and when she found out that it was Hades who took her, she asked Zeus, the god of sky and thunder to help her. Zeus ordered Hades to set Persephone free. He reluctantly obliged, but before letting her go, he gave her a pomegranate to eat. She ate six seeds and went back to her mother. When she returned, it turned out that Hades had deceived all of them.
For every seed she ate, the girl was to spend a month of a year with her husband. For six seeds, she had to spend six months with him. Another six, she was to spend with her mother. That's why we have autumn and winter. These are the months when Persephone is in the underworld and her mother is grieving. When she comes back to her, it will be spring."

Crouch listened quietly to the story. When Rose finished, he looked at her for some time, before his face broke into a mad grin.

'Oh no.'

"I am your Hades," he said. "Too bad. You have to be with me the entire year."

"Yes, well, it's not that I have any choice, isn't it?" she sighed before returning to her work. Crouch fell silent then and just sat there for a minute or so. Finally, he stood up, stepped near her and took a strand of her hair in his hand.

She froze, uncertain of his intentions. Was he mad at her for what she'd just said?

He brought his face near hers and placed a small kiss on her cheek. She held her breath, not daring to move an inch. He kissed her on her forehead, stroking her hair tenderly. Rose didn't know what to do. She just sat there, smelling the scent of his aftershave, feeling surprisingly dizzy.

"You are mine," he whispered in her ear. "Never forget that. If you escape, I will always find you, so think twice before trying."

The next kiss was on her lips. Rose shivered slightly, not sure if it was from fear or something else entirely.

'I must be going insane, just like him', she thought. He drew back from her and left the room without another word, leaving her confused and annoyed.


AN:
So, here we have the next chapter. Thank you for the reviews and alerts, hope that you'll like the next chapters too :) Barty is very kind now, but don't worry, I don't plan to make him OOC. He'll show his true colors :D