Malfoy had not said a word since he had exclaimed his curse, damning something to hell though Ginny had no idea what. It made her anxious, this silence and Malfoy himself of course. His face had been a perfect mask when he had first entered, slamming the door open with one open-palmed smack. His face had been blank but that movement showed anger, even his footsteps had seemed aggressively angry until he had seen her. Ginny was surprised that Malfoy was not surprised to see her, but he was not. His face had shed the mask only to become alarmingly pale as he stared at her with wide eyes. Malfoy was quite literally frozen as he nearly gaped at her, but he said nothing. He only stared at her in mute horror tinged with anger. And stared. And stared. And stared.

Ginny was tempted to glance at a clock, certain that at least an hour had passed while Malfoy gaped at her, but perhaps it was only the result of his disconcerting gaze. Time always seemed to pass slowly when you were under close scrutiny Ginny had found. Her second year had lasted a lifetime in her memory with every teacher watching her for signs that Tom Riddle's dark influence had permanently soiled her. She had feared it herself honestly. For months she had studied her face and her eyes in the mirror not sure what she was looking for exactly but convinced completely that if she were becoming evil it would show. She recognized the folly in that now; after all, Draco Malfoy did not look the least bit evil. The question was: how evil was he? The question scared her.

Finally Ginny could not take the silence anymore. "Malfoy," she snapped crossing her arms and nearly tapping her foot, a habit her mother often displayed when she was impatient.

His name did the trick. Like an actor when the lights come on, Malfoy snapped into character. It was the littlest things that marked the difference: his spine straightened by millimeters, his shoulders stiffened, his eyes darkened, and his lips thinned. He looked like his father.

"What in the bloody hell do you think you are doing?" he whispered the words with the velocity of a cracking whip and Ginny recoiled as though she had been struck by them. A chill descended and suddenly Ginny was sure she had made a terrible mistake. Malfoy would not go easy on her; he would be worse. She was certain. He stepped forward and Ginny immediately stepped back, like the move was a well-practiced dance routine. "Weasley, answer me!" He was angry, pissed, enraged. "Answer me!"

Petulance was not the way to go when handling an irate Malfoy, but it was the way Ginny found herself answering. "Isn't it obvious?" Malfoy's hand twitched towards his wand and Ginny berated herself. He was going to torture her, but Ginny did not need to make him desire it by pissing him off. "I'm here for Luna," she said in quieter voice, hoping she did not look nearly as afraid as she suddenly felt.

Malfoy's reaction to that was not one Ginny would have ever expected.

With a great unintelligible yell of frustration, Malfoy released his hold on his wand so that it clattered to the ground, but he hardly seemed to notice. His hands jumped up to his hair to grab handfuls of the silvery strands and then he yanked ferociously on them. He turned his back to her, his spine curved as though a great pressure weighed on his shoulders and Ginny could hear him mumbling to himself, words that sounded like more curses. He looked crazed.

Hands out and by her sides so that she did not appear a threat, Ginny retreated slowly towards the far wall. Her heart was beating erratically in her chest, and fear made it hard for her to breathe. She retreated until she hit the wall and then she pressed herself firmly against it and watched Malfoy with wary eyes.

"What the hell were you thinking?" Malfoy rounded on her suddenly, hands still on either side of his head and eyes a burning silver vortex that Ginny did not dare meet directly. She winced when Malfoy charged towards her, ten hurried steps that drew him up only a foot away. He looked like he wanted to grab her and shake her, but his hands only gripped his hair all the tighter as though he were restraining himself. "Do you have any idea what this means?"

Ginny took a deep breath and released it to calm herself. She spoke slowly, in a calm methodical voice so that Malfoy would realize she had known what she was doing. She needed him to see why she had done it if she were to have any hope of him agreeing to torture her instead of Luna. "It means that if you turn me in, the Carrows will want to handle me themselves. It means Luna will be punished, probably more heavily than she would have been originally. It might mean death," she finally looked into his eyes, unsure what exactly she hoped to see as she admitted what she wanted of him, "but only if you tell."

Malfoy's hands dropped and his lip curled with disgust. "Of course I won't tell, don't be ridiculous."

"I…what?" Shocked did not cover what she felt.

Malfoy looked at her again and unbelievably his mouth twitched like he was fighting a smile. "Don't look so surprised Weasley, have I not already proven that I have no interest in harming you?" His look soured again by the time he finished, and he shot her a hateful look that turned Ginny's blood to ice in her veins. She could not follow him. He was angry that she was there, but he would not turn them in. He would not turn them in.

Ginny shot Malfoy a shrewd look. "You won't turn us in?"

"Of course not!" Malfoy was pacing now, turning back and forth in front of Ginny looking agitated all over again. "Merlin but you are daft! I told you to stay out of trouble! I warned you! Do you not realize that the Carrows want you dead?"

"How do you know they want me dead?" and just like that Ginny was on edge around him again, her momentary relief long gone. Malfoy merely shot her a look that clearly said he thought she was stupid, but he did not bother answering her.

He was muttering to himself again, but Ginny was close enough to hear now. "Bloody Gryffindors, I had no idea this would be so hard. What the hell was she thinking anyway? What in the world gave her this idea?"

Ginny let him ramble, unsure what exactly he meant to do with her. So far, he had only said he would not turn them in which was in and of itself a miracle as far as Ginny was concerned. She had convinced Neville and Seamus that her plan would work, and had even somewhat convinced Luna but Ginny had not convinced herself. She had half-thought Malfoy would turn them in. "Why?" she whispered, more to herself, but Malfoy heard her.

Malfoy stopped muttering and turned to her with a wary expression. "Why what?"

"Why aren't you going to turn us in?"

He looked relieved, like he had expected a different question and it was only then that Ginny realized she had never asked him why he had written her the notes. He distracted her again by answering, "Because, as I have already said multiple times, I have no interest in torturing you, or anyone for that matter. Though apparently, you still don't believe me. Merlin knows why considering I've been given ample opportunities thanks to your stupidity."

Ginny was amazed at his ability to make such an endearing comment insulting instead. Her anger flared up expectedly, but she pushed it back down. Anger had gotten her nowhere last time. "You've said you have no interest in hurting me," Ginny allowed, though the sentence made her uneasy, "but why wouldn't you want to hurt my friends? You know who they are." She knew he did. It was fairly obvious who would have helped her, and Ginny had no illusions that her friends would not come forward if it came to that. Malfoy did not deny it. "There is no love lost between all of you. The only one you have ever been ambiguous towards is Luna."

"Ambiguous," Malfoy muttered, running a hand through his ratty hair. "Well, I surely won't be ambiguous now, not after she let you do this."

Ginny stepped forward anxiously, nearly grabbing his arm. "You said you would not hurt them!" Her voice came out high with fear. She was having trouble keeping up with Malfoy's moods, with what he meant, with what he was going to do.

Malfoy shot her another disgusted look, one that she was becoming quickly familiar with. He looked almost disappointed with her. "Yes, I already said that!" Ginny sighed in relief, and Malfoy tilted his head curiously. "It means that much to you?"

"Of course. I did this to save Luna."

And that spiked his anger again. Stepping away from her again, Malfoy glared down at her. "Oh yes, and tell me how this plan of yours saves your friend?"

"She won't be tortured." Ginny thought it was clear enough.

"Yes, but you didn't know that until I told you I would not turn you in. If I had, you would all be tortured, probably by the Carrows."

"I…" Ginny fumbled for the way to explain it. She had known that was a risk, the only real risk she had considered. But she had counted on Malfoy. She had thought, no, she had known he would not turn them in. "I trusted you."

Her statement was met with silence, and Ginny felt a ridiculous blush covering her cheeks. She dared not look at Malfoy. She studied the dungeon wall by the door instead, refusing to even let herself think about what it meant that she had trusted Malfoy. Because she had trusted him, it was unarguable.

"Why?" Malfoy was furious again, standing with his hands clasped tightly behind his back. His feet were shoulder-width apart and his back was achingly straight. He looked like he was facing a firing squad and Ginny nearly laughed for Merlin-knew-what-reason. Maybe she was in shock. She certainly felt like she was in shock. Trusting Malfoy? Maybe she was the mad one.

"I don't know."

Silence fell in the dungeon yet again, but Ginny let it swallow them this time. She had no idea why she had trusted Malfoy, truly, and he must have known that because he did not press her. It was certainly not because he had turned out to be the mystery writer. The fact that he had penned all of those notes only made Ginny uneasy. It was not that she did not think he would hurt her either. Ginny had seen his anger, in the hallway and in the library. His anger when he had entered the dungeon had terrified her. Malfoy had a temper, and she knew that eventually he would snap and when he did, she would be hurt. It was Malfoy's way, wasn't it? He and Harry had gotten in multiple spars in the hallway. He always reacted physically when pushed, and she was pushing him now. But still, the trust was there. Trust that he would not harm her friends because she had placed herself in front of them. Did she expect admiration from him, then? Did she think that he would admire her courage and accept her in Luna's place because of it? But that was absurd. Malfoy had no admiration for courage, none of the Slytherin's did. They mocked the Gryffindors for it.

"This is ridiculous," Malfoy muttered, running his hand through his hair again. He patted his pockets and finally realizing his wand was gone, turned his head to the floor to look for it. "What the hell am I supposed to do now?"

Unable to stop herself, Ginny blurted, "Torture me."

Malfoy stopped to look back up at her. His eyes were wide. "You must be joking. Do you want to be tortured Weasley? I would've never pegged you for one of those types."

Ginny flushed and glared at him. "Of course I don't want to be tortured!"

"Then why would you suggest it?" Malfoy shot back, his face coloring slightly in anger again. He turned his back and scooped up his wand, holding it carelessly in one hand.

Ginny's eyes were glued to that wand, but she forced herself onward. "You have to torture someone. You said it was risky enough what you had done last time. You said you would not do it again." She remembered it clearly.

"And I meant it."

"Then torture me," Ginny repeated, standing up straighter and tilting her chin up. She was ready, she was.

"This was your plan?" Malfoy looked torn between more laughter and more yelling. "What the hell kind of plan is that?"

Ginny was becoming tired of his questions. She could only take standing here and awaiting torture for so long. Her nerves were frayed and she felt like throwing up. Courage was easy when it was a split-second decision; it was hard to be impulsive when she had so much time to think. "My plan!" she snapped back. "I wanted to save Luna, and you were already angry with me. I assumed you would relish this chance!"

Now Malfoy did laugh, though he did not sound truly amused. "Of course. Why wouldn't a Malfoy jump at the chance to torture a Weasley?"

Ginny had no answer, but Malfoy did not look like he expected one. He looked like he already had an answer, but if he did, he wasn't sharing it. With a calm face and steady hands, he raised his wand and levelled the point at the center of Ginny's forehead. "Have you ever even been Crucio'd?" he asked, and he looked upset.

Ginny could hardly concentrate with a wand pointing in her face. Her legs wanted to shake, and her knees were in danger of giving out. But she stood straight, head held high. There was no other choice. This was what she had planned. "Yes," she finally managed.

Malfoy hardly looked comforted by that fact. "How many times?"

"Does it matter?" Ginny snapped, anger flooding her. She finally looked around the wand point and glared at Malfoy. He was prolonging this, did he want to torture her emotionally first? "I have been tortured. I can take it. Merlin, Malfoy just do it!"

But he looked unsure. His wand point was hovering, on the edge of going down. Ginny could see the indecision in his eyes. He could not truly be considering letting her go again, could he? That was ridiculous. He couldn't. It would be suicidal, and if Malfoy was anything he was self-preserving. He would not risk his life for hers, and what it would mean if he did… Ginny could not even think what that would mean.

And so she blurted out the one thing she could think of that would make Malfoy do it. "What are you Malfoy, a bloody Slytherin coward?"

His eyes froze and in an instant his wand was back up. Hesitation was a thing of the past, so far gone Ginny wondered if it had even been there to begin with. But she did not have time to wonder for long. The words slipped out and over his tongue with the ease of familiarity. A burst of pain erupted behind Ginny's eyes, and she distantly heard herself scream.

The pain did not allow for thought, any thought. It was just as Neville had described. Pure darkness enveloped her, but the darkness had edges. It was like being rolled in glass. Ginny knew she was screaming, but she could not hear herself anymore. She was not even sure she existed anymore. There was only pain and the dark and pain.

And then suddenly it was over. A flash of grey darted past Ginny's eyes, and then darkness overtook her again, though this was the gentle hold of unconsciousness. Ginny slipped into it willingly, barely registering the slam of a door before she was gone.

When she awoke, Ginny was not surprised to find that she was alone.

It was cold in the dungeon and Ginny sat up slowly, stiff and oddly sore. She wrapped her arms loosely around her knees, curling nearly into a ball. She felt broken. Her mind felt like a cavern, empty and echoing and dark. And Merlin but she felt like somebody else. Ginny Weasley was a distant memory, her bravery long forgotten. Ginny could not imagine enduring that again, ever again.

Malfoy had been right; she should have never done this. Neville had been right; Malfoy was a whole other level compared to the others. There had been no thought during his curse, not even true feeling. Just the dark, and it horrified Ginny.

It was so close to how she had felt with Tom Riddle at times. That darkness that cut her with every move but could not be escaped. She had been a fool, and now she felt broken.

Stiffly, she laid her head on her knees, pulling herself into a tighter ball, trying to pull herself together. She felt like her body was in a million pieces, scattered about her. Her mind was intact, but so, so empty. It was a miracle she even knew who she was, let alone what had happened to her.

But she knew. She remembered everything right up until the moment Malfoy had uttered the spell. Malfoy. Ginny shuddered. She had been wrong about him as well. What she had felt, what his mind was like when he cast the curse, it had been evil. That darkness that cut could only be evil. She had never even imagined it could be like that, and no wonder Malfoy always seemed frozen. Ginny was freezing.

He had not had any expression on his face when he uttered the curse. His eyes had been as dull as doll's eyes. He had not smiled like she had thought he might. He had not looked angry or triumphant. He had looked like nothing, and that was more terrifying than Ginny could have realized.

If he felt nothing when he did that, what was it like when he did feel something?

The door creaked open and without a thought Ginny was scrambling back on her hands and feet, scurrying away and into the wall. Her shoulder cracked against the stone and her hands felt raw as they clawed along the rough floor, but she hardly felt it. Her heart was racing as she stared at the person entering.

"Ms. Weasley?" Filch's voice was unsure, and he stopped as soon as he saw her huddled as she was on the ground. Ginny could see the fear and the concern mingling in Filch's eyes, and she knew she looked a sight, but Filch said nothing about it. "I was sent to get you."

Ginny straightened her clothing, refusing to meet the caretaker's eyes as she did it. She tried to steady her breathing, to slow her heart rate, but she could not. Fear was a deep root in her heart, and she did not have the strength to tear it out. "Yes, of course," her voice was hoarse. She coughed and then stood up slowly, uncertain about the steadiness of her legs under her. But her legs held, and her back straightened and Ginny stood. It was disorienting for a moment, and her head spun until she put a hand to it. The room straightened then, and Ginny shook herself. She smiled slightly at the caretaker. "Thank you, Mr. Filch."

The caretaker returned the smile, though it was not as warm as it usually was. He held the door for her, and Ginny walked slowly out of the room, every step measured and precise. She had forgotten that she was in the castle. She had forgotten that she was anywhere. She had forgotten that the world existed, it seemed.

The hallway was empty and cold with only the stairs at the end of it. They did not speak as they climbed the stairs with Filch barely a hairsbreadth in the lead. He carried a lantern, and it reminded Ginny that she had no idea what time it was.

"What," her voice scratched in the middle of the word and Ginny was forced to cough again to clear her throat. "What time is it?"

Filch glanced at her, concerned, and then away again just as quickly. "Seven, miss."

Seven. Ginny nearly laughed, but she clamped her mouth shut, knowing how hysterical she would sound. It was only seven. Luna's detention had been at six and Malfoy had been at least ten minutes late. They had talked for a while after that, and Ginny had the feeling she had been on the floor for at least twenty minutes. But the torture had felt like it lasted so much longer than what the time was telling her. It had lasted an eternity. An instant eternity apparently. Ginny could not even begin to imagine what prolonged torture like that would do to her mind or her body.

"Miss," Filch seemed hesitant. "Are you alright?"

Ginny was a little surprised that Filch was voicing his concern. He had favored Ginny since her fourth year, when she had stopped some other students from mocking the caretaker for being a squib. Harry had told her about the flier he had once found about learning magic. He had seemed to pity Filch, but Ginny hardly thought the man needed pity. What he needed was respect. So Ginny had given it to him, and Filch liked her for it, but he had never been overt in his concern. She truly must look a fright. "I'm fine, Mr. Filch," she reassured, hand going up automatically to straighten her hair. She was not sure if she was telling the truth, but Ginny knew she at least had to look like she was okay. Neville and Seamus would be waiting in the common room, her friends. "Who sent you?" Ginny asked, wondering if Neville had again ventured out. She frowned at the thought. It was an unnecessary risk.

Filch looked uncertain, and he did not answer her for a long minute as they continued up to the Gryffindor tower. He only answered once they were in the hall where the painting guarding the entrance hung. "Mister Malfoy found me."

Ginny nearly halted, but she forced herself to continue walking as though that were normal. As though it made sense for Malfoy to find Filch after he had tortured her. But it did not make sense. Malfoy had not made any effort to alert anyone when he was done with Neville, and whatever favoritism Ginny may have thought the Slytherin harbored for her, she doubted it now. He had tortured her, and he had not held back. Or had he?

Her head spun and once again Ginny found herself putting a hand to her head to stabilize herself. If that was what it felt like when Malfoy held back, Ginny never wanted to experience what Neville had experienced.

"What did he say?" she whispered.

Filch looked uncomfortable as they stopped outside the portrait. He glanced warily at the Fat Lady and shifted his feet, but Ginny stared at him, beseeching. He sighed. "He marched up, awfully angry, and barked out that I needed to go to the dungeons immediately. He only told me you were there after I asked. Then he left."

Ginny smiled politely at the caretaker and thanked him, acting as though his answer was what she expected. But it wasn't. Malfoy had been angry when he found Filch, but he had not been angry when he had cast the curse. What did it mean?

Filch left as Ginny muttered the password and the portrait swung open for her. She blearily climbed through the portrait hole, hardly seeing what she was doing. Fatigue overtook her brutally, and her head pounded and Malfoy swum before her mind's eye. His grey eyes had been so cold, so very cold.

Ginny heard shouting vaguely, and she forced herself to smile, looking up to greet Neville and Seamus who were both hurrying towards her. She straightened her back and made her smile widen and her eyes brighten. She played the part of the returned hero, and she wondered what part Malfoy was playing, and which part he played, if any, was the real him.