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Please read this before you continue though:

Above all, this story strives to be realistic and logical and the warnings in its summary are not overrated. War is not nice to anyone, Death Eaters and Voldemort are not a merry bunch of dress-up players, life and people are complicated and the characters don't fall in love by looking deeply into each others' eyes, forgetting all about their history. Not in this story at least. There are some rather graphic scenes that people might get very uncomfortable with, especially in the first half of it. The 'M' rating is more than justified as only mature readers should proceed in reading.

Disclaimer: I'm just playing with the characters; they are all borrowed from someone much richer and better at writing than I am.

CHAPTER 1

This was the first moment of her life where she had absolutely no idea how to get out of it. No sudden idea, no miraculous way out, no phoenix to carry them out into a safe place.

They were totally screwed. The Stinging hex didn't work - and how could it? The minute Lucius Malfoy saw and recognized her and Ron, he had no problem identifying the third boy, especially when his scar was visible. How stupid of her to even think that it could save them! And now they were on their way to Voldemort. She dragged her legs with the last little of strength she had, Harry and Ron both bloodied and panting doing the same just ahead of her. Everyone else she could see wore a Death Eater mask. And now panic started to eat at her insides like a hungry beast. Just bloody perfect.

It didn't take long to arrive at the fortress, she could feel the light tingle of the wards passing them. Darkness hid the most of it from her sight but it was huge with no doubt. She was pushed with her hands bound till she was standing in a dark hall, meeting a new group of Death Eaters. She was surveyed, information were passed, orders were barked, everything started moving again. But now she was pushed in the opposite direction than Harry and Ron which caused a new wave of fierce panic to surge through her and she started struggling against her captors even before she realized it herself.

At one point she managed to scream which startled the man holding her long enough for her to free herself and start running towards where the boys disappeared from her. The next time she remembered she was writhing in white hot pain on the ground, thinking she must be dying as hundreds of knives pierced her skin and bones. It felt like years before she passed out.

When she woke up, cold and sore, to the sound of groaning she was not sure was not hers, she found herself chained on a dirty cot in a tomblike cell. She could not go and look around, but she was sure there were more cells lined around the hallway - she was able just to glimpse the one opposite hers, but she could also hear the odd rumble of chains and a feminine sounding groan from much further away. She was sore from being cursed and her head pounded.

Thousands of thoughts began swirling in her head. Will she be interrogated now? When will they come? What will they ask her? Should she say nothing or try to lie? What about Harry and Ron? Will they say the same story? Are they going to torture her again? And most importantly, how they are going to get out this time?
She had a lot of time for thinking too - it took several hours before she heard someone nearing her cell and by that time she was positively unnerved as her inner musings brought nothing of use. It was a kind of a relief when the Death Eaters finally opened the creaky door. What she didn't expect, though, was them flicking their wand at her immediately in a bored way, acting as it was a daily routine - first silencing her and removing her cuffs, then lifting her to a standing position, petrifying and lastly - what took her breath out of her - removing her clothes. What?! Do they want to humiliate her before they begin? But why to take her voice away then?
She was so shocked she barely heard their conversation.

"Not too bad, this one," the taller one said.

"Nay, I've seen worse... The old git is a lucky fucker, she arrived just in time - only this morning. Still fresh. Far better than he deserves..." the smaller one commented.

"Deserve? I would give him a stick up his ass, that's what would be just right... You wouldn't even know it's there by the look of him!"

They both laughed while her mind reeled. Is she going to be interrogated by someone else then? And why would that make the person happy? Is he famous for liking to torture the prisoners?

Her thoughts were interrupted again when the smaller wizard began casting charms again; this time without any visible effect, she felt just those strange tingling and probing waves of magic traveling around her body, similarly to a health check she experienced at Hogwarts. Since when are the Death Eaters concerned about her health? Was there a Dragon Pox epidemy that killed all the prisoners last month or what?
Still snickering they harshly put her down on her mattress again, binding her in place. The smaller one wrote something on a piece of parchment that he pulled out of his robes. They did not return her clothes and she shivered, feeling very vulnerable and exposed. Maybe it was their point to humiliate her first so she would not fight them so much. But fight she will, she decided. Even if it's the last thing she will ever do, she will not betray her friends and the Order.

She took her time to consider every single detail of her cell - from the iron bars to the front to the hole in the stone floor that was obviously meant to serve as a toilet and she still didn't see any way out. She hoped a chance will present itself when she is transported to a interrogation room or showers or something like that. At least she hoped she would, preferably soon enough as her bladder started to bother her and she definitely did not want to use the hole. Or pee herself, Merlin!

The hole started looking much more attractive as her need grew. She tried her manacles again, not caring for her already bruised wrists. What felt like hours passed and she was past desperate by then, pressing her legs together and praying for anyone to release her. But nobody ever came and she finally gave up, pissing herself like a guilty two hears old. She fought the urge to start sobbing as she sat in the pool of her own urine, shivering in shame and cold.

She tried to sleep to make the time go faster but it was to no avail - she has problems sleeping on the best days and she was not chained, cold, humiliated, exposed, smelly and under a lot of stress. Her mind kept torturing her with endless possibilities and "what ifs".

Finally she heard footsteps approaching. It was a relief to have a proof she was not completely forgotten, even though she was sure she would be made to regret it soon. Oh, damn! Another door creaked elsewhere, they probably did not come for her. Or did they? There were more people moving along the hall and now it sounded as if every cell was being opened. Is it the shower time finally? Thank Merlin!

In a few minutes a masked man opened the door to her cell, flicked his wand at her carelessly and she rose from her wet mattress, her chains rattling as they fell to the ground. Another flick and something black was pulled over her head, blindfolding her effectively and raising a wave of fear - why to do something like that for showering? There would surely be just women so she is no danger to see something she had never seen before. They probably just didn't want her to see the way to get there, she told herself firmly.

She was levitated for few minutes before he roughly set her down on a cold floor. The she felt her hands pushed forward to reach the wall which made her bend nearly to the right angle and her feet were rooted to the cold stone underneath. Then she was immobilized completely so that she could not even flex in her position. Another spell and she was washed - at last! The next one came as a shock as she felt it shave her everywhere, even down there! What? They care how she looks THERE?!