Hey, everybody! I know I just updated yesterday, but I've got a lot of college online orientation stuff to get done, so I figured that I could have a little fun and update this short chapter while I've got a moment. Hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own anything. There is an OC in this chapter named Anthea, but no copyright infringement is intended.

Chapter Thirty-seven

I was never let out of the cell. A girl slightly older than I came by and delivered bland meals through a slot on the heavy metal door. The only look outside of my cell I got was through the barred window, but the fact that I had a window quickly lost its novelty.

It was always grey. Nothing but grey and black clouds for miles. The fog concealed the ground and consumed the sun, leaving nothing but a bright spot hidden behind a misty veil.

The Dementors came by the window more and more, their mouths open and wanting. I was paralyzed by the cold they created. My breath constantly fogged in front of me, and I never stopped shaking. I took the thin, hole-riddled blanket from the cot and moved as far away from the window as possible. I curled up into a ball in the corner of the freezing room, covering myself with the blanket.

My blinked rapidly to keep my eyes from closing. I remembered enough from my reading to know that I was going hypothermic, and that the best thing for me would be to get up and move, but I couldn't. I was too exhausted.

Eventually, my eyes closed without my permission. I thought that the cold would kill me, though only a small, faint part of me cared. It was screaming at me to open my eyes again, but the rest of me was silent. I didn't necessarily want to die, but I didn't exactly care if I did.

"You need to wake up," a girl's voice insisted.

A gentle heat passed over me, and the ice that had covered my skin since I arrived cracked and melted, waking me a little.

The warmth gradually grew, dissipating the never-ending ice that had taken me. I eventually managed to open my eyes and found the girl who guarded my cell and brought me meals.

She smiled in relief and backed away a few inches. "Glad to see you awake. When you didn't get your food, I looked in, and thought you were dead."

I didn't say anything. My throat burned at each breath. The sensation was all too familiar, so I knew it was better not to talk.

"I'm Anthea," she introduced.

"...And you're Draco Malfoy," she said for me when I still didn't say anything, giving me a pleasant smile which brought some light into the dark cell.

She sighed and slid a jar closer to me. It contained a small, bright flame that put out so much heat it was almost uncomfortable, but I'd rather be unbearably hot than cold right now.

"Does your throat, hurt?"

I nodded, knowing that I needed to drink something or the burning in my throat would only get worse.

Anthea held up a steaming tin mug and offered it to me. I reached out for it, my still frozen hands shaking. I tried to grasp the mug, but my muscles were so stiff that they wouldn't even hook around the handle.

Anthea slid closer to me and helped me secure my freezing hands around the hot cup. I tipped the mug's contents into my mouth, only caring that it was warm. It turned out that Anthea brought me hot cocoa, and it thawed the inside of me as it streamed into my mouth and down my throat.

"Better?"

"Yeah," I muttered, my hoarse voice cracking as I spoke.

Anthea sat back and leaned against the wall, watching me as I sipped on the cocoa. "So, you're a Death Eater," she finally said.

"I'm not a Death Eater," I corrected, the statement becoming second nature.

"But you've got the Mark." She gestured to my exposed and scarred wrist.

"Never wanted it," I muttered, taking another sip of cocoa.

"Then why'd you get it?"

I hesitated, freezing at her question. There was no harm in answering. Answering would probably be helpful considering that the Ministry would ask me sooner or later, but the words died in my throat.

"Did you believe in him?" Anthea pressed. "You-Know-Who?"

"No," I instantly answered.

"Then, why'd you get the Mark?"

Voldemort's threats to my parents' lives and my own sprung to the forefront of my mind. My hand shook as it normally did when I thought about all that's happened, but the stiffness of my fingers prevented me from keeping a hold on the hot mug.

The tin cup clattered to the floor. The hot cocoa spilled over my hands, the sudden heat scorching my skin. I hissed, and gently wiped the rapidly cooling cocoa on the thin blanket.

"What was that about?" Anthea squeaked.

I didn't answer. Only continued to wipe off the cocoa from my burned skin.

"Well, I have to go," she said, scooping up the tin cup. "I'll be back in a few hours with dinner."

She smiled at me over her shoulder before the door opened on its own. She left me alone again, the heavy door swinging shut behind her.

I didn't know how far apart Anthea's visits were. The sun never rose or set-or at least its doing so was obscured by the constant cloud cover. I assumed that every three meals was a day, so I guessed that she came by every couple of days.

We talked about random things, though she did most of the talking. She kept me updated on everything Harry, Ron and Hermione did in the news as well as the clean up after the Battle of Hogwarts. She made jokes that were so poorly told that I couldn't help but snicker a little.

She renewed the flame in the jar and brought the usual meals but eventually, something in her visits changed, though I couldn't identify what. Each time she came, my heart was lighter, and the influence of the Dementors-the memories they brought to mind-was shoved away. I looked forward to her coming, though the end of her visits always brought me back down to reality.

Anthea asked the same question every day: why would I get a Dark Mark if I didn't want it? I ignored her question each time she asked, but eventually, the answer burst its way out of me in my irritation.

"He threatened me, okay?" I said sharply, part of me wishing that she would leave. "He threatened my life and my parents' lives."

Anthea fell silent, dropping her eyes to the floor, and it was minutes until she said anything. "That must have been hard."

"It's fine," I dismissed. "It's done, now. You-Know-Who is gone, and my parents are on the run."

"You don't know where they are, so you?"

"No. Why would I?"

"I don't know," she sighed. "Just asking." She glanced at the watch wrapped around her wrist. "Gotta go. Can't leave my shift unattended if I wanna get paid."

The comment made me smile slightly as she got to her feet.

The next time Anthea came, her mood was slightly different. She was still pleasant and polite, but she seemed lighter, like a burden had been lifted. And the time after that, she surprised me by ripping my blanket off of my shoulders.

"Hey!" I shouted, the biting, ice cold of the cell hitting me instantly. "I need that!"

"No, you don't," she retorted, tossing the hole-filled blanket towards the door.

I got up and took a step towards the blanket, but she slipped in front of me, blocking my path. She looked up at me with a challenge in her eyes that confused me. Did she want to fight or was she just having fun?

"You don't need it because I brought you this one." Anthea brought her hand out from behind her back and presented me with a thicker, cleaner blanket.

I looked at her in surprise. How could she get that for me? And why? Who would let her? My first instinct said that it was some sort of a trick, my mother coming to mind.

"You gonna take it or not?" she laughed.

I cautiously reached for the blanket in her hands, and she pulled it away at the last second with a laugh.

My hand lowered down at my side, and my gaze instinctively dropped to the floor.

"Hey," Anthea called, her voice so soft it made me nervous. "You okay?"

I nodded silently.

"Here," she sighed, suddenly thrusting the blanket into my arms. "It was just a joke. Didn't mean to send you somewhere."

I looked back up at her. "Send me somewhere?"

"You looked like you had a flashback or something. Like you mind went somewhere without you."

We were both quiet for a while before Anthea glanced at her watch like she usually did, said she had to go and left me alone in the silent cell, taking the thin, old blanket with her.

Once she was gone, I looked down at the new blanket in my arms. It was softer than the other one and actually smelled like it was washed at least once.

After a while, I wandered over to the cot and laid down on it. I had tried to sleep on it when I first got into the cell, but the cold coming in from the window was too much to bear, so I moved to the corner where I met Anthea. But now that she gave me this better blanket, I might actually be able to sleep well.

My dreams were worse than they ever were before. They came fast and blurred and were so mixed around that I couldn't make sense of them. It was like my mind took every single one of my horrible memories from when I became a Death Eater, tossed them like a salad and threw them back at me in my nightmares.

It was a relief when I was suddenly awake. I didn't register why I was awake, just that the nightmares had abruptly ended. I was shaking, and my heart was beating faster than I could keep up with.

"Are you okay?" Anthea's recognizable voice demanded. I looked up and found her standing over me, her hand on my shoulder and her eyes wide. "You were screaming."

"F-fine," I stuttered, my teeth chattering from the cold sweat that made my clothes stick to my skin. "J-just a nightmare."

I sat up on the cot to prove to her that I was okay, but she didn't seem satisfied.

Anthea didn't speak. Just studied me intently. She suddenly drew me closer to her and wrapped her arms around my shoulders.

I froze and tensed at her contact. What was she doing? I didn't understand it, but the longer she held me close, the more I relaxed. There was something comforting about it. It drove the memories away.

Hope you guys enjoyed and see you soon for the next chapter!