Hey guys! Thanks for reading! And thanks to 'anonymus' the Guest reviewer! :D And to everyone who has favorited or followed so far!

Enjoy!

Chapter 5: Choices

The Hogwarts Express

3rd Person POV

Harry was sitting in a train compartment with his head pressed against the cold window. Luna was reading The Quibbler upside-down and Neville and Ginny were having a conversation about Quidditch. Ron and Hermione had gone out to patrol the corridors once again and had not returned.

With his head against the icy window Harry watched raindrops run down the glass, a hypnotizing phenomenon that had caught his attention. His round glasses were pressed uncomfortably against his face, but he didn't care; his mind was elsewhere.

His thoughts were back, once again, on the red-haired, green-eyed girl. Who was she? In every one of his dreams she had been tortured and every time his heart broke for her. He had tried confiding in Ron and Hermione his feelings about the girl, but they had acted just as he had suspected. Hermione with fear at the connection between Voldemort's mind and his and Ron too scared at the thought of torture to do anything to comfort his friend. Harry sighed deeply, his breath fogging up the glass in front of his face.

Sirius hadn't mentioned the dreams after Harry had told him about the first one and Harry had started to wonder whether Sirius had even believed him or not. He would've told Dumbledore, but the Headmaster had been avoiding Harry and he felt no need to tell him anything.

Harry didn't know what to do. He was frightened for the girl. If he'd had any idea where she was he would've forced the Order to set up a rescue mission, or just gone after her himself. He wished he could save her, but how?...

He was shaken from his thoughts by Hermione's hand on his shoulder. "Harry?"

He turned around to look at her, his gaze distant, his green eyes still lost in thought. "Yeah?"

"Harry!" she called, snapping her fingers in front of his face.

"Oh. Oh, sorry Hermione." he said, shaking his head dazedly as he pulled himself back to reality. "What did you say?"

"I was just going to tell you that we're nearly there and it's time for you to get your robes on." she looked at him with concern, taking in the bags beneath his eyes and his tired air. "Are you alright Harry?" she asked in a hushed voice.

"Yeah. Fine." he said, turning away from her to his trunk. "Thanks Hermione." He sighed again, wondering once more who the girl could be.

Malfoy Manor

3rd Person POV

Leah lay on her bed in the silent guest room, staring at the door leading out into the hallway. If only I could escape. But she knew the effort was futile. She shifted on the bed beneath a thin, ragged blanket and winced as the sensitive cuts on her arms rubbed against the rough material. She thought back to her talk with Bundy over breakfast the week before, when he had told her that he was a house elf, a kind of servant.

Despicable. She thought, remembering Bundy's burnt hands and bruises across his back, the works of his owners as punishment for doing things "wrong". Absolutely disgusting.

She knew Bellatrix would only hurt her more for her sympathy towards the elf, but she couldn't help it. Whenever she conversed with the poor elf she had to keep herself from crying in pity. Tearing her thoughts away from the mistreatment of the elves, she turned to her predicament. She had been at Malfoy Manor (not that she knew the name of it, dear reader, because she truly had no idea where she was) for roughly three weeks, according to Bundy.

Leah slid her left arm from underneath the thin blanket and held back more tears at the sight of the large, imposing tattoo on her skin. The Dark Mark.

Bundy had told her about it when he had delivered her breakfast the day after being given the Mark. As far as Leah could tell, Voldemort had officially branded her as one of his own. She used the sleeve from her old t-shirt to wipe away the tears that slid down her cheeks at the reminder.

I don't want to be his. She thought bitterly, her eyes drawn strangely to the inky-black tattoo engraved on the flesh of her forearm.

Strange thoughts plagued her mind in the sleepless hours she rarely received. The only times she was allowed to be alone and think for a bit were few and far between. Usually she was passed out, "training" as Bellatrix called it, eating or walking down the still confusing-yet-familiar path leading to the entrance hall. But when she did find a few hours in which to think, to dream, she dreamed of a family.

A real family.

Never before had she ever known someone who had actually loved her. Cared about her. The closest thing she had felt to true love was Ms. Fawley, the previous headmistress of the orphanage. The proud smiles, the comfort from bullies, it was the only thing she had. Leah found herself wondering what would have become of her if not for Bellatrix and her "adoption". Leah scoffed at the thought. Adoption was bringing someone into your family, not forcing them to join your group that you wanted them to join, trying to convince them to a whole new way of thinking... especially one as the Death Eaters possessed.

Which was exactly what Bellatrix had done. Bellatrix had gotten into the habit of talking to Leah for what seemed like hours a day about how amazing the Death Eaters were, how Leah would find her "rightful place" in society and how it was the greatest honor available to be able to serve the "Dark Lord."

Leah had laughed dryly at her praise and was tortured as a result. It soon became a daily occurrence, often switching between the Cruciatus Curse and one of Bellatrix's favorite knives. Leah trembled, hugging her arms close to her chest as she recalled the nights of pain and terror.

Her fingers traced the thin scars on her arms, sending involuntary shudders cascading over her body. Unfortunately the worst punishment wasn't even from those. It was from the newer, fresher scars that didn't heal overnight. The scars that were retraced nearly every day since the second week of her imprisonment...

***Flashback***

Malfoy Manor

Day 14 of Imprisonment

Leah was sitting on the edge of her bed, head in her hands, crying softly. She was wishing that it had never happened, that she had never met Bellatrix, that she had never met Voldemort. Why me? Why do I have to be singled out? She wondered desperately. She unconsciously rubbed her left forearm, where the Dark Mark was branded into her skin. It flashed white-hot with pain every so often, but it burned a dull ache constantly.

The door flew open suddenly, banging against the wall and admitting Bellatrix Lestrange's menacing figure into the small room, her wand drawn in one hand and a short, silver knife in the other. Leah recoiled, shrinking back onto her bed. She had grown all too familiar with the two weapons Bellatrix wielded.

Bellatrix's jet-black curls were untidier than usual, her dark eyes flashing.

"You. Girl. Come with me!" she ordered, brandishing her knife threateningly. Leah quickly followed her timidly as Bellatrix turned and strode off into the hallway. She really didn't want to follow her, but Leah knew the consequences for disobedience.

They arrived in the entrance hall, but turned down a hallway Leah had never entered before. Bellatrix stopped suddenly at a blank stretch of wall and tapped a non-descript looking brick that revealed a set of stairs leading down to the depths of the house. The wall slid closed behind them as pale green flames popped into existence on torches set along the walls.

Leah looked around warily as the two of them made their way down to a large, circular room that was empty except for more torches set high on the walls, casting eerie shadows across Bellatrix's face.

"Stay here!" Bellatrix ordered, pointing to the space of wall near the staircase. Leah hurried to obey, scurrying over to the said portion of wall and standing shakily against it, her breaths coming in terrified gasps.

Bellatrix flicked her wand at an empty bit of wall and it vanished, revealing a smaller, cell-like chamber connected to the main, circular room. Leah could see something - or someone - curled up in a ball in the far corner of the smaller room.

"Get up, boy!" Bellatrix screeched, her angry voice echoing off the walls of the underground chamber. A small boy, about ten or eleven years old, lifted his head at her yelling, his face displaying utter terror. He tried and failed to stand, his legs buckling beneath him. "I said GET UP!" Bellatrix yelled louder still. Leah and the young boy winced at the harshness in her tone. He hurriedly tried again to raise himself off the dingy, dirt-covered floor and took a few fumbling, terrified steps toward Bellatrix.

Leah's mind was whirring. What's happening? She asked frantically. Bellatrix answered her unspoken question.

"Now, Miss Potter." Bellatrix began, her lip curling in an evil smile, causing her to look more deranged than usual. "You are going to get your first lesson on being a Death Eater..." She paused, her smile widening as Leah's eyes widened. "The Dark Lord has decided to change up your training a bit, just until you follow us fully..." She crooked a finger menacingly and beckoned Leah to come closer. She obeyed hesitantly, afraid of approaching yet afraid of remaining still. Bellatrix then grabbed the boy roughly by the upper arm and yanked him into the light.

When he had been in shadows she hadn't noticed it, but the flickering green flames cast shadows on the numerous scars on the small boy's skin. Leah stifled a gasp, tears pricking the corners of her eyes. How could they do this to an innocent child? She asked herself.

His ocean-blue eyes met Leah's brilliant green and begged for release. He was trembling and shivering, but Leah knew it was not from cold. He held her gaze for what felt like hours before she finally broke the stare. She turned her head, unable to bear the boy's pain any longer.

Bellatrix cackled at the display, obviously mistaking Leah's repulsion and disgust as apathy. "Very good little Potter. For your task you need only rough the boy up a bit you see, torture him as I see fit. Just so you know, resistance will get you nowhere. You will only bring the same sentence on yourself." Her bottomless eyes sparked with a sickening mixture of malice and excitement. It was obvious she enjoyed keeping the two of them on edge.

Leah, still avoiding the boy's eyes, didn't notice Bellatrix approaching her until she was about three feet away. Her green eyes leapt to the knife in Bellatrix's hand and shuddered, willing herself to stay still. Bellatrix held out the knife and, when Leah just looked at it, forced it into her hand, handle first. Leah just stared blankly at the silver weapon in her hand. "But what-" she started, looking from Bellatrix to the knife. She looked up again and saw the boy who was now trembling violently, eyes fixed on the knife in Leah's hand. Her eyes widened in realization. "No..."

"What was that?" Bellatrix asked smoothly, smiling smugly.

"No." she whispered a bit louder, her eyes flicking up to Bellatrix's black ones.

"Well then, this might get interesting." Bellatrix said silkily, advancing once again on Leah, who took a few steps back. "Are you sure about that Potter?" Leah, nearly petrified with shock, managed to nod her head a fraction of an inch. Bellatrix's smile only widened.

"Well then Miss Potter, you leave me no choice... SECTUMSEMPRA!"

Leah screamed and collapsed as deep gashes were cut into her arms, legs and abdomen, blood creating a crimson river along the floor. The boy stood frozen for a split second, then dashed back into his "room", tears flowing down his cheeks and muffled sobs escaping his mouth. Leah's screams bounced off the walls, reverberating in the stone dungeon as blood poured from her body, her breaths coming short and shallow.

Bellatrix cackled at the sight of her helpless and writhing on the stone floor. Leah felt herself slipping into blackness and tried desperately to cling to reality, but her senses were slipping away, slowing down, fading into nothingness. Darkness finally consumed her and she was sure she could never see another day.

***End Flashback***

If only they had let me die. Leah thought savagely, glaring at the thin, pale lines on her skin. Every day after one of her "lessons" she would wake up, her wounds almost completely healed and Bundy would force her to drink an "extra blood potion" as he called it. Leah's thoughts drifted from her injuries to the boy, wondering where he was. The first "lesson" had been the first and last time she had seen him.

She had been faced with plenty of other victims, but none had been so innocent as the first young boy with the sea-blue eyes. Their tortured gaze swam through her dreams and plagued her waking moments, as did the eyes of all the victims.

Leah shook with silent sobs at the thought of her sessions with Bellatrix, tears rolling down her face and stinging a few of her worse cuts that the Death Eaters had not deined bad enough to heal. She forced the memories out of her head, to the back of her mind, and tried in vain to slow down her breathing.

Leah lay back on her bed, curling into a tight ball and, exhausted from the reliving of her sessions with Bellatrix, drifted off into a fitful sleep.

A/N: Same deal as all the others: 5+ reviews on this chapter and you get an early one! Happy belated Valentines day and all that. :)

Please review/tell me what you think/give me pointers or ideas! I want to hear from you readers! :D And thank you all for reading!

~Megan