*FLASHBACK*

I was heading back to the Gryffindor common room, but stopped dead when I heard voices:

"Why do we even pretend to like him?" It sounded like Ron.

"It should be obvious, Ron," said Hermione's voice. "We're in it for the fame. 'The Golden Trio'?"

"Oh, right," agreed Ron.

What? They only liked me for my fame? My hands started to shake, and my knees went weak. I had to lock them in place to keep standing up.

Was no one truly able to sympathize with me? A burst of adrenaline washed through my body.

I started running. I pushed people out of my way, not caring whether or not they fell. I ran until I was off the Hogwarts grounds, until I was running through a forest that was fast becoming dark. I stumbled; fell. I picked myself up off the forest floor, and that was when I felt their presence.

*END FLASHBACK*

I woke up slowly, and painfully. I was in a cell, presumably one located in or near Voldemort's hideout. They pain was coming from the fact that I was slumped uncomfortably against a stone wall. Huh. He must want me awake for the torture.

Even as I thought that, Voldemort appeared in front of the bars of my cell. My eyes flashed in anger, and I knew he could see it. He laughed at my futile fury.

"I believe," he stated, "that this will be very enjoyable. Not for you, however. Crucio!"

The pain was unbearable, yet at the same time, I found myself receiving a margin of relief from the pain. It almost felt – good. After a few minutes of watching me writhe in pain (and, though he didn't know it, pleasure), he pulled the curse off of me and smirked at my gasping form lying on the floor. He walked away.

Since I had nothing better to do, I decided to experiment with my newfound hobby, masochism.

I pounded the stone walls with my fists, reveling in the sensation of fractured knuckles. Sitting down, something sharp poked my backside. It was a rock. A sharp one.

Smiling, I drew it down the length of my forearm, trying not to be stupid and kill myself. It was a relatively deep wound, and stained my skin red. Pleased with the results, I pulled off my shirt and drew it in messy lines across my abdomen and chest. The pain felt so good compared to the reality of my life. My vision blurred, and I fell into sweet unconsciousness.

A/N: Yes, I'm ending it here! I had some complaints about speed and plot, so I tried to go slower and explain some things. Should I move this to M because of the descriptions? R&R!