When he descended the stairs behind Yaxley he could hear her voice, crystal clear, calling Lucius Malfoy an insufferable bastard. Later, he would tell her that was the reason he liked her so much, but for now, he quietly followed his best friend deeper into the dungeons.

Yaxley had a bit of a limp from the battle in the Department of Mysteries, and so it was slow going for the both of them, but Antonin was quiet about it, the same way that Yaxley was when Antonin got injured. Antonin measured his steps and every so often Yaxley would look back with an apologetic smile. Antonin ignored those, there was nothing to be sorry for. They were coming to get revenge after all.

"You mudblood cow."

"Trussed up pureblood peacock."

"When I get out-"

Her laughter.

"Don't agitate Mister Malfoy, Hermione." A softer voice, it sounded like a ghost, did the Malfoy dungeons have ghosts?

Yaxley must have had the same thought because his pace slowed even further.

"Do you feel sick, Mister Malfoy that you're sharing a cell with a mudblood and a blood traitor?" She asked, and then laughed.

"Enough, girl!" He growled.

The girl called Hermione was topless, her shirt wrapped around her midsection, covered in her own blood and dirt, even then she was radiant, hissing and spitting at the other man who shared their cell even as she was bleeding out onto the stones. Her breasts heaved with each breath she took and the moonlight made the ghost attending her glow.

A blonde fairy was hunched over her, her hair hiding her face as she put pressure on the wound, her free hand coming up and brushing the wild mane of hair away from Hermione's face.

Lucius Malfoy was leaning against the far wall, his knees drawn to his chest, watching the two of them warily, three streaks of blood across his cheek and a very clear thumbprint on his chin, his hair dirtied and matted. He heard their footsteps first, over the mixture of laughter and gasps of pain.

"Are you here to kill me?" He asked, nonplussed, rolling up his torn shirt sleeve, trying to save face.

Antonin was captivated by the girl on the floor, a wild cat if he had ever met one. He caught her because she was wild. Fiery tempered and bold, the girl that tried to curse him even as she crumpled to the floor. He had to possess her.

He knew that she was the one to attack the great Lucius Malfoy, rubbing her own blood on him in some kind of twisted payback.

Yaxley had his hand on the bars and turned back to him, looking at him expectantly.

"Oh good," a voice said "Look Hermione, we have visitors."

"By all means," Hermione, the mudblood's, words were slurred "Let them in."

"You heard the lady," Yaxley had an almost feral grin on his features. "We've been invited in."

The cell was no bigger than 8 meters squared, it was crowded with all five of them inside, the door clattered shut behind them and while Yaxley approached Lucius in vengeful glee but Antonin was more interested in the two women who were huddled together under the light of the moon.

This was the girl he had cursed, and then, for some reason, kidnapped. It was the way she had looked at him when he had cornered her in the Unspeakables office, that look of fiery passion that struck a chord somewhere inside himself. Like calls like.

Now she lay with the ghost of the Malfoy dungeons, taunting the owner of the manor as she bled out from a stray spell, his stray spell. Guilt, an unfamiliar emotion for Antonin Dolohov, roiled around in his stomach. Did he have the right to kill someone with such fire? Would he have liked to die like this?

Lucius Malfoy finally cried out and Antonin realised he had been stroking her hair. He retracted his hand as if burnt and the ghost she was sitting with looked up at him with clear blue eyes and a small smile.

"Blood replenishing potion, essence of murtlap, water." She drew each word out like she had spent time to think of each one.

Hermione looked up at him, whiskey colored eyes that caught the light and she saw through him so clearly that he was afraid she was a legilimens.

"Go ahead and do it then, finish me off, that's why you came, isn't it?" She spat, her breath smelled like blood and honey.

"No," he said, his accent was thick and he caught himself. He didn't want to say anymore. "Tonight is for Lucius."

Her eyes slid over away from him to Yaxley and Malfoy in the other corner of the room. Her gaze snapped back to him.

"Don't hurt him," She protested.

He sneered, did she fall victim to Malfoy charm as well? Were they just play fighting for the audience?

Antonin went to stand up, but a wet hand came around his wrist and he tensed. "He'll complain all night if you do."

Yaxley laughed at this and stopped what he was doing. Lucius was wheezing in a pile of clothing and hair on the corner. His fingers were scratching at the cobblestone flooring making an unholy sound.

She released her grip on his arm and got up to her hands and knees, topless in a white bra that was now an ugly shade of burgundy, her schoolgirl skirt sticking to her thighs as she struggled to stand up. The ghost of the dungeons pulled her down.

"Luna, no." She grunted, but after a few moments of heavy breathing opted to continue her crawl against the floor.

She stopped next to the blonde man who was coughing up his own blood and sat back on her heels. Her fingers were trembling as she pushed back his mane of blonde hair, her fingers leaving another track of blood across his face as she tucked it behind his ear gently, like a mother to a small child.

His coughing stopped and he watched her fearfully with those silver eyes. She turned his hand over so his palm caught the small bit of light that was flooding the room and spit on it.

Yaxley laughed "She's worse than any torture we could have done."

"See Malfoy," she said, swiping some blood from the wound on her chest with an index finger, from his cut lip with her middle, drawing two lines down his now clean palm. "See now?"

Two streaks of blood, both red glittered in pale light. He looked at her like she had gone mad. She gave him a smile in return, a shuddering breath and she bowed her head.

"There's no difference in our blood, none at all."

The room went silent, and eventually, her labored breathing evened out, and she fell over on top of the injured Lucius Malfoy.

The blonde did not protest, just rolled over onto his back, staring up at the ceiling, letting the blood dry on his hand.

"Blood replenishing potion, essence of murtlap, water." The girl they had all forgotten about spoke up in the silence.

"You're the girl Rabastan brought?" Yaxley asked and looked over her once.

She did not respond, instead, she looked out the small high window in the cell. The ghost glowed in the moonlight, she was otherworldly to the point where Antonin had to look away.

Antonin came down much later to witness a one sided conversation between Rabastan LeStrange and the ghost girl.

He set down three things by the cell door, wordlessly, unnoticed by the younger LeStrange who was sitting cross legged on the floor going over the details of his day almost meticulously.

Her blue eyes flicked up to Antonin's only for the briefest of seconds, and he fled, because like the mudblood, he was sure the ghost was an accomplished legilimens. When the ghost looked at him in the, he felt all his secrets laid bare.

"What is it?" Rabastan asked as he walked down the hallway. He sounded eager for her words.

"Nargles in the dungeon." Her voice floated down the hallway on the wind.

"Oh yes, of course."