(HBP) CHAPTER TWO: The Surrender

Ellie learned about twenty minutes later that the Order attack on Malfoy Manor had been a complete bust—and, worse, that Molly had been wounded in the process.

It's nothing a little visit to St. Mungo's can't fix, Fred told her. Now, tell me what's going on there. He's just… leaving you alone?

She was still with Peter, who, to her immense relief, had indeed opted to sit in silence rather than torture her. She suspected that he'd start up when it came close enough to dawn for his relief to arrive, but for now, she was grateful.

Not grateful enough to change her mind about wanting to turn him in, of course. Even now, with freedom far off, it was all she could think about.

That, and the fact that the closest thing she had to a mother had been wounded when trying to break her out.

What exactly happened? she asked Fred, ignoring his question. Who did it to her?

Bellatrix. There weren't many people there—it was just Narcissa, Draco, and Bellatrix. They wouldn't let us search their house willingly, of course, so we had to Stun them. Bellatrix shielded most of our spells and managed to get a mean sort of stabbing jinx on Mum. Dad got Mum out straight away while the rest of us searched the house. There was nothing, though. Empty basement.

I figured as much when I didn't hear any commotion upstairs.

This doesn't mean we won't find you, El. We're already working out where else to look for you. Please don't give up hope.

I'm not, she promised him, and she wasn't.

But it had only been one day.

One day turned into one week, one week turned into two, and the Order seemed no closer to finding her than they had been on day one.

Ellie was in bad shape.

The ways they had come up with to torture her were nothing short of artful. Selwyn liked to try his hand at magical waterboarding—turning the cage into a tank, filling it with water, and "drowning" her just enough to give the illusion of inability to breathe while knowing perfectly well that she had about an inch of air between her shield and her body that would keep her alive. Bellatrix was the pyromaniac of the group, burning her so intensely that patches of her shield fried off entirely, giving patches of her skin first-degree burns. The Carrows' love of acid and mercury had similar effects, causing significant damage to her shield, her clothes, and her outer layers of skin.

And, of course, she ate and drank nothing. Whatever nutrients were managing to keep her alive must have been sucked out of her shield itself—or what was left of it.

She had hit the final Rupert Bowman symptom—bleeding from the eyes—after about five days of torture. By the time Fred reported back to her that raids at the Goyles' and the Gibbons' were unsuccessful, she was losing so much blood, she barely had the strength to stand even when she wasn't being tortured.

It wasn't just the blood loss, though, nor the lack of food and water, nor the intensity of pain and suffering she felt when she was being attacked. It was the intensity of pain she felt regardless of what was happening—that same heavy, sore, anguishing pain she had been feeling for years by then—but magnified a thousand times over.

It felt like death. There was really no other way to put it.

Fred, she said to the boy she loved after three weeks of merciless torture. I think you guys should stop trying.

What? Fred demanded. What are you talking about?

I'm going to die, Fred. I was always going to die, but now I'm going to die even sooner.

He cursed at that. You just have to hang on. We're planning our attack on the Lestrange house next—you're sure to be there. You just have to hang on until then, El. Please. For me.

She wasn't sure it was something she had any control over anymore, but for the sake of her love for Fred, she promised him, anyway.

The Order's attack on the Lestrange house was a bust—but it wasn't just a bust.

Dedalus Diggle died in the fight.

Ellie hadn't gotten to know Diggle very well, but she knew enough. She knew that he had been a kind, eccentric man who had fought bravely against Voldemort before Ellie was even born. She knew that he had been a huge fan of Harry, having even bowed to him once in the middle of Little Whinging when Harry was only a child. It had stuck with Harry, and thus it had stuck with Ellie.

And now he had died for her.

Enough, she told Fred when he delivered the news to her. Enough trying to find me, Fred. Enough of the Order risking their lives on my behalf.

Don't be ridiculous, El. What happened to Diggle was a tragedy, but he knew the risks. And we all know that you'd do the same thing for any one of us.

But she didn't care. Enough was enough. There's no point, Fred. There's no point in trying so hard to save me when I'm an inch away from death already.

Even the Death Eaters were talking about it now. Voldemort still visited about once a week, letting off his steam in the form of teeth-grindingly painful torture. Each time, he scanned her thoughtfully, remarked that she looked worse than ever, and that she'd likely be dead by the time he next returned.

I found someone, Fred told her. Merida Fowler. She's retired, but she was one of the Healers who was assigned to Bowman. She's willing to help you when you get back.

She had to admit, she was surprised. When had Fred found the time to find this Healer? How had he found her?

Help me, how? she asked him. Did she really think there was anything to be done?

She had a few ideas. Said she's been giving it a lot of thought ever since she first heard about you. Agreed to meet with you as soon as we get you back.

But the words as soon as we get you back only served to remind her that they still planned on trying again—that they would never give up until they found her, and that more than Diggle might die in the process.

There was only one thing she could do for them now.

She had to find a way to escape on her own.

Ellie studied her options carefully over the course of the following week. There were really only two feasible ones that she could see: Aleks and Peter. Peter was the only one who had shown her any semblance of kindness; for that reason, she was tempted to beg or guilt trip him into helping her escape.

But, if she did escape, her top priority would be to take him with her—to bring him back to 12 Grimmauld so that the Order could bring him to the Ministry and her father could finally stop hiding. Could she really do such a thing to someone who had just helped her?

There was no chance in hell, of course, of convincing Aleks to free her. She was his weakness, though, in a different sort of way. Every day she survived—every time Voldemort scoffed that she was sure to die tomorrow and she proved him wrong—impressed him. Every burn, scar, and wound she acquired—every pound of flesh she lost from starvation—seemed to make her more desirable to him. She was the ultimate challenge—and the ultimate prize.

She decided to wait until after Voldemort's next visit to pull the trigger on the little plan she had concocted. Only then would he stand a chance of believing that she might ever surrender.

Voldemort's visit, of course, was so debilitating that a part of her did want to surrender. Wouldn't it be easier, she marveled as he sliced and swiped at her shield with scalding hot blades and scythes? At least, if she surrendered, she would finally stop hurting.

She wouldn't, though—not really. She was too far gone. It was just as likely that Aleks get what he desired out of her and then put her out of her misery than that he actually attempt to use her to Voldemort's advantage.

When Voldemort finally left, Aleks stepped over to the bars with his usual smirk, scanning her naked body—the clothes had fried off days ago—with the very desire she'd been hoping for. He couldn't see much—she was curled up into a ball in the corner of the room, as usual—but he saw enough. "Ready for more?"

Fred, she said, taking a deep breath. I'm going to need some strength from you.

What? Fred demanded immediately. What's going on?

She hadn't looped him in on her plan. She was a bit surprised he hadn't figured it out on his own, but then, he had been busy meeting with healers and planning attacks on various Death Eater bases.

Remember the day you shouted at him through me? she asked him. I need you to be here with me, Fred. Completely. And when the time comes, I need you to help me Apparate out.

Whoa, whoa, whoa. Apparate out? It's impossible. With that magic—

I know. I have a plan. You're going to hate it, but you're going to have to keep quiet about that and focus on giving me your strength.

It's too risky. Whatever you're thinking, don't. I told you, El—I'm going to get you out of there.

I know you are. And this is how.

He remained silent for several seconds—long enough that Aleks was starting to look suspicious. Finally, he sighed in her head and said, Okay. But please be careful, El. Please.

"No more," she told Aleks, taking a deep breath. She did her best to look as pathetic as possible—which wasn't hard. "I want it to stop."

He froze, staring down at her in genuine surprise. He took another step toward the bars. "You… what?"

"I want it to stop," she repeated. "The torture. The pain. Just… make it go away."

"You're a smart girl, Ellie," he said, putting his hands on two of the bars. "Surely you understand what that means, right?"

She nodded, focusing on the charred, blistered skin of her knees. "It means I surrender myself to you."

She had chosen those words with care, well in advance—I surrender myself to you. They were personal. She wasn't surrendering to Voldemort; she was surrendering to Aleks.

It had to be this way. She had to entice him into that cage before he had the good sense to call any of his cohorts.

El, Fred said in her head. Are you sure about this?

Before she could answer him, a deep, almost inhuman groan sounded from somewhere inside Aleks, and his fingers tightened around the bars of the cage. "Prove it."

She wasn't sure what he meant by that. What could she possibly do, here in this cage, to prove to him that she was done fighting back?

There was only one tool she had left. Her body was bruised, starved, scarred, burned, and broken, but it was still a woman's body—fully developed by then, and still curved in the places a man like Aleks might care about.

So she rose shakily to her feet, stood as straight as she could, and forced herself to look at him.

"Do what you want with me," she whispered.

Which, of course, fueled enough rage and madness in Fred for her to feel it.

Which was exactly what she needed.

For a split second, she thought she had failed—that it wouldn't be enough—that the doubt and fear in Aleks would overpower his animalistic nature.

But then those blue eyes darkened, a sneer came over his face, and the animal in him took over.

He walked slowly to the door of the cage, watching her with rapt attention. He pointed his wand at the lock, turning it wordlessly until it clicked open. Then, slowly, he opened the door.

Now, she told Fred. And she let his rage take over.

She Apparated once, then twice—the second time with Peter in tow.

And, finally, she was home.

She escaped AND got Peter?! I hope the happy ending of this chapter was enough to make up for the discomfort of having to read about Ellie being tortured... Told you it wouldn't last too long! Unfortunately, she's still on death's door with the shield situation... Hopefully this Merida woman can help! Stay tuned and don't forget to follow and review!