Eden

My brain pounds inside my skull. The pain of it blocks up my ears and throbs behind my eyes. I can barely see because of this bloody headache that just won't go away.

Where's Ron, where's Ron?

Nothing can make this headache stop. I've tried everything I can think of - I've tried taking deep, long breaths. I've walked around my cell, slowly. Whenever I've been taken down the corridor to the toilets I've splashed my face with cold water over the sink. I thought that if I had a drink the pain might subside, and so I drank some water straight out of the taps while I was there.

What are they doing to him? Where is he?

But none of it has made it any better, and so now I'm pacing up and down my cell, trying in vain to clear my head.

Whatever they're doing to him, it's all my fault!

It's been a long while since I was brought back here from the great hall. Either that or it has been barely any time at all, but the seconds are passing me by slowly. I really don't know. No-one will ever tell me what time it is. I just have to guess.

They really have been a long while this time, though. It feels like I've been here a lifetime.

Oh God, I hope that they're not taking such a long time because they're with Ron! They can't torture him, they can't-

Of course they can. And they will, if they haven't already.

I curl my fists up into balls, digging my nails in to the soft skin in the middle of my palm.

They can't hurt him, they just can't!

Maybe they won't. Perhaps they only reserve torture for Mudbloods... Muggle-borns. What did Lucius say again?

'You're a Mudblood. That is why I choose to torture you instead of using any of the cleaner methods. Any Death Eater would do the same thing; I am not unusual in that respect. Because any opportunity to teach one of you a lesson should not be wasted.'

Ron's pure-blood. Perhaps they'll take that into account, and leave him alone.

But then I remember Lucius' face, lit up with pleasure as he cast the Cruciatus curse on Ron. The way he smiled as pain shot through my best friend's body.

He hates Ron. I have no idea why, but he hates him, just as much as he hates me for being a Muggle-born.

I grip my hands so tightly that I feel my fingernails pop through the skin on my palms. Blood, my blood, runs warm and wet and sticky down my palms.

I've brought my own friend here. I've led my best, best friend to pain, misery and horror.

And death.

I can't bear it. I spin myself around and I slam my fist into the nearest wall, and I scrape it along the rough stone, tearing at my knuckles, peeling the skin away from the bones. I come to the end of the wall, and I stop, leaning against the cold stone and pressing my forehead onto it. Sweat burns on my skin, rolling down my face and clamping my hair to my skin and I close my eyes, wanting everything to disappear around me.

But the pain in my head goes on thumping almost unbearably, pounding away as my brain fills itself with unanswerable questions.

What are they going to do to Ron?

Why wasn't Harry at the Burrow?

What will Ron's parents be forced into doing in order to keep their son safe?

A loud click comes from the doorway, and I spin around to see Lucius step into my cell. His appearance, as always, is immaculate. He doesn't have a single hair out of place. His robes are exquisitely opulent - black and emerald green, with silver embroidery.

I've always noticed how well he keeps himself, but it's never really hit me like it does in this moment.

It must be lovely to be able to keep yourself in such luxury.

It must be nice to be able to keep yourself clean.

He runs his eyes over me with his lip curled up slightly in disgust.

'My dear girl, you really should try to take better care of yourself.' A small smile flickers onto his face. 'You look terrible.'

It's particularly ironic that his thoughts are so close to my own at this moment. Apart from while I was thinking about how well he keeps himself, he was thinking about how terrible I look.

Same train of thought, and yet completely different opinions.

I scowl at him, pushing away any notion that I might somehow be similar to this monster.

'Well you might look terrible too, if you had to live in conditions like these.'

He comes over to me in two swift strides and grips me by the chin, looking down into my face. He turns my head this way and that, inspecting me like I'm a dirty child.

'Are you ill?' he finally asks, holding my face still. 'You certainly look as if you might be.'

God, he's just... far too close to me.

'What do you care?' I ask, meeting his eyes with a look like flint.

He looks at me closely, his face devoid of expression.

'I can't afford to have an ill prisoner,' he says eventually.

'Oh, but you can afford to torture one, can you?' I wrench my face out of his grip, furious at his artificial compassion. 'How very reasonable of you.'

He brings his wand out of his emerald green robes, and a small shot of pain runs through me, from the tips of my toes to the crown of my aching head. I gasp slightly; a sharp intake of breath taken through gritted teeth.

'I have told you time and time again not to be insolent,' he says quietly, his lips barely moving. 'Why won't you learn to do as you're told?'

There are a million sharp answers I could give to that question. I can feel them all speeding through my brain.

But I don't say anything. I want to, but I don't. The freshness of that shot of pain keeps my mouth shut.

We just stare long and hard at each-other, and as I look into those cold, grey eyes, I wonder what they contain in their depths. I wonder what he's hiding, deep within himself.

He can read my thoughts. It's not fair that I can't read his too.

'Where's Ron? What have you done to him?'

A tiny smile curves on his face, a smile which doesn't reach those eyes of his.

'Ah yes, young Mr Weasley.' His lip curls up slightly in distain. 'If I might say so, you seem rather taken with the boy.'

My face boils as I try to keep my mind blank, determined not to give him anything through Occumelency. But I can't block out the thoughts that flit through my mind. As images and memories and feelings of Ron run through my brain, I think for a moment I see Lucius' face flicker in a moment of genuine emotion. What that emotion is, I don't know - it's gone before I can work it out.

'I have to confess, I felt quite nauseous at the sight of your re-union.' His mouth twists into a smirk, but he can't seem to force his eyes to comply with his lips. 'I have always had a real aversion to Puppy Love. I would have expected better from you - you have, at least, got a little bit of intelligence about you. I wouldn't have thought that you would indulge in such a trivial, foolish ideal.'

I don't know what he's getting at. I don't know whether I want to know what he's getting at. All I know is that this conversation isn't just embarrassing me, it's also making me feel incredibly uncomfortable.

'Where. Is. Ron?' I exaggerate every syllable, no longer caring if he decides to punish me for my so-called 'insolence'. I just want to know what's happened to my friend.

He raises his eyebrows slightly, but he doesn't curse me, like I half-expect him to.

'Don't upset yourself, Miss Granger. I assure you, you shall be re-united with your young man soon enough.' He twirls his wand leisurely between his fingers. 'Even as we speak, he is being brought here to your cell. I have special plans for the boy-'

Panic collapses onto me, and I start to sputter desperately.

'No, please.' I grip onto the front of his robes, holding on to the smooth, fine material of his lapels. 'Don't hurt him. Hurt me if you must, but don't hurt him. He hasn't done anything, he doesn't deserve-'

He wrenches his robes violently out of my grip.

'Kindly don't dirty my robes with your filthy hands.' Genuine disgust creases his features. 'They were clean on this morning.'

I let the insult go.

'Please don't hurt him-'

He cuts my pleas in half.

'I'm sorry, Miss Granger, but I think it's a little too late for that.' He really does smile now - a smile that reaches his eyes. 'We have already been working on him overnight, pumping him for information. I am pleased to say that he cracked quickly. They all crack.'

His satisfaction seeps through the air, and I feel sick to the pit of my stomach at the thought of what they might have done to Ron.

He's still smiling at me.

'We asked him for everything that you could not provide for us - all about Potter's activities since you went missing, and where he was planning to go in order to rescue you. Not only that, but we asked him to tell us everything he could about Potter's personality - all of his hopes, his dreams, his fears and his secrets. Things that only a best friend would know.'

I take a short intake of breath at that, and my heart sinks as I am reminded of how I've always felt a little isolated from my friends. Ron and Harry are... were best friends. They were friends with each-other before they were friends with me, and they share a room with each-other. I know that they're closer to each-other than they are to me. I've never liked it, but I accepted it a long time ago.

But how the hell does Lucius Malfoy know about that?

'Oh, young Ron Weasley has proved himself to be a gold-mine of information,' he continues, smirking at me horribly. 'But I believe that we have all that we shall ever need from him - the rest I want to come from you. And I think that today you shall show only a very small amount of resistance to my will.'

He returns my puzzled look with a sick, sick, sick smile. 'Oh yes, I think that you'll give in most quickly this evening. You see, I understand your simple Gryffindor mentality. And I can see that it can be used to considerable advantage if we have someone you love under our control.'

'What do you mean?' I frown up at him, trying to ignore this new fear pressing down on me, creeping through my body and turning me cold.

He smiles, looking deep into my eyes. I try to keep my mind blank, hating this violation of my own private thoughts as his mind pushes into mine.

'I think you know what I mean,' he says quietly. 'But if you want me to make it crystal clear for you, I have no objections. I just feel that you might be insulting your own intelligence by making me spell it out for you.'

He begins to circle me, to walk around me as I stand alone in the middle of the room. I feel a small shudder of vulnerability run over me as I feel his eyes bore into me.

'You like to hold out for as long as you can against the pain inflicted on you.' His voice is low, and it seeps through the air, surrounding me like an icy-cold smoke. 'You see it as bravery; you see it as courage. Stupidity, some might call it. You hold out for as long as you can, until you can take no more and you have to give in to my desire.'

The way he says this send shivers through me. It's the wording of it, I think.

'Your irritating ideology and your insufferable idea of bravery made me consider what might be enough to push you into enacting some willing obedience. And I started to wonder - how long would you be able to hold out if someone you loved were suffering in exchange for your silence?'

My heart stops beating for a second as he confirms my fears.

I can't believe that he's going to do this!

What am I going to do?

He comes to a stop in front of me. Almost touching me, but not quite. There suddenly doesn't seem to be enough oxygen in my lungs as the air in the room is pulled tightly around me.

If he leaned forward any more, he'd be touching me.

'Perhaps then you shall discover that bravery is meaningless.' His voice pulls the air yet tighter around me. 'You might finally realise that the entire ideology you have built your life around is a lie.'

He reaches out and runs one of his thumbs down my cheek. It sends the smallest of shivers through my body, down from my gut to my toes. He smiles down at me maliciously, allowing his thumb to come to rest on my chin.

'Or perhaps you can prove me wrong. If you are truly brave, then you will be able to watch your friend suffer for your ridiculous notion of 'what's right'.'

As his thumb rests on my chin, I look up at him and I feel my mouth start to work, coming out with words that I know I shouldn't be saying.

'I wish I could understand you,' I say quietly. 'I wish I could comprehend how you could do things like this. How would you feel if someone tortured your wife in front of you, to get you to give information that you wanted to protect with your life? What would you do if someone were to torture Draco to get to you?'

His features harshen and he lifts his hand from my chin. He slaps me hard across the face. The sting of the blow spreads through my cheeks in ripples.

'Do not speak of my son.' His voice is quietly threatening, warning me not to push it any further.

But I can't stop myself.

'Oh no, I mustn't mention your family. That would make everything too personal, wouldn't it?'

He pauses for a moment before replying.

'And what do you mean by that?' His voice is run through with ice.

I don't know why, but I want to push it further. I want him to realise that I know him for what he is.

'Whenever things get a little personal, you automatically get violent with me before it can go any further. Whenever I mention your family, or when I say your name, or when I try to get through to any trace of humanity you might have, you cut things off before I can delve any deeper.'

'Really?' he asks, his face giving nothing away. 'Well, seeing as you seem so determined to psycho-analyse me, perhaps you might like to tell me more.'

He's goading me. He's luring me into going further. He just wants an excuse to hurt me...

But I don't stop talking.

'If you establish a personal bond with somebody, you won't be able to do your duty properly because you'll be emotionally involved. That's why you always look so cold and distant when you torture me - it's because you're determined that you won't become emotionally involved.'

'Is that so?' He almost looks amused. Almost. 'Pray, continue.'

I take a deep breath to steel my nerves.

'You might as well give up on that idea, because you've got a bond with me now, whether you like it or not.' I have to push the words out of my mouth, to force myself to carry on without wavering. 'You aren't indifferent to me. You lash out at me. You curse me; you sometimes even use Muggle violence against me. Those aren't the actions of an indifferent person.'

He's really struggling to keep calm now. I can see his face almost pulsing with anger as he battles to keep it calm and expressionless.

How far will he go to prove me wrong on this matter?

'But what I want to know is: why do you hate me?' I'm deliberately goading him now, pushing him and pushing him, digging deeper. 'I haven't ever done anything to you. We'd barely spoken to each other before I came here. Alright, so I don't get on with your son, but apart from that, you have no reason to dislike me. I was at the Ministry, but I didn't actually want to be there, and it wasn't my fault you were captured.'

'I don't care about you being at the Ministry,' he hisses, his temper finally beginning to conquer him. 'You were unconscious for most of the battle - if I'm completely honest, I barely noticed that you were there. And I certainly don't care about your petty arguments with my son. Do you really think I care for such insignificant things?'

'Then why?' I know the answer already, of course I do, but I want to push this as far as I can, as hard as I can. 'Why do you hate me?'

'I have told you, time and time again! How many more times do I need to tell you?' His voice is raised, and his face is pale with rage. 'You shouldn't be in our world. You and your kind are nothing more than throwbacks, and yet you move into my world, polluting it, taking it over and making it your own.'

Now I really am curious.

'Is that what it is?' I ask quietly. 'Is that what it all boils down to - fear?'

His eyes narrow at me.

'What?'

'You heard me,' I snap at him. 'Does all of your hate, all of your prejudice just boil down to a fear of losing your position in society? Are you just worried that the Muggle-borns will take it away from you?'

'Why on Earth would that be my reason for hating you?' His voice is raised, and his face has lost all of its colour. 'How could I be worried about the possibility of you taking my position away from me? Look at yourself! A throwback, a freak, lower than the dirt on my boot. How could you possibly take anything away from me?'

'You're right,' I carry on, trying to ignore the fact that my head is pounding so badly that I feel like I'm going to faint. 'I could never take your position away from you, because you haven't had to work for what you have. Others have to work for a living. Normal people have to work hard for money, and privilege, and position. But all you ever had to do was take the trouble to be born.'

The look of absolute and pure loathing on his face actually terrifies me, and I shut myself up before I can go any further.

'Would that you never had been,' he says, without moving his lips.

He flicks his wand at me, and I feel something like nails being scraped down my skin on my face, my arms, my legs. I claw at my skin to try and get rid of the pain, but it won't stop. And there are knives being driven into my belly as the nails continue to drag down my skin. I fall down to the floor, rubbing at my arms and legs, trying to make it better while at the same time trying to stop myself from crying out in agony...

And then the pain leaves me instantly, disappearing so suddenly that I start to wonder whether it was even there in the first place.

I look up at him as he looks down at me with a face so full of hatred that it makes me want to shiver.

'When will you ever learn your place? You worthless, pathetic little girl, when will you ever learn?'

Just as he mutters this, the door to my cell bangs open. My gaze shoots away from his face and to the doorway.

Dolohov and Bellatrix drag Ron into the room by his arms. He's conscious this time, though his face is so white it's almost green, and he's grimacing in pain.

'You two took your time.' Lucius doesn't struggle to disguise the irritation in his voice.

'Well, he did insist upon putting up a fight,' Bellatrix says as she and Dolohov throw Ron to the ground. He falls on his side, grunting in pain. Bellatrix throws him a contemptuous sneer as she goes to lock the cell door. 'It took us some time to subdue him.'

Ron lies on the floor, gasping weakly and gripping his stomach, grimacing with pain as Dolohov chuckles at him.

I feel my own stomach tear in two as I see him like that.

'What have you done to him?' Fury and pity and horror all well up inside of me as I run over to my friend.

But before I can reach him I feel myself lifted up bodily by an invisible pair of hands and I'm thrown back, back, and I slam into the wall. I feel my whole body scream out in pain as it smacks into the merciless stone, and I feel invisible bonds pin me to the wall, leaving only my head mobile.

'You will stay there, Mudblood,' Lucius mutters quietly as Bellatrix laughs at me from the other side of the room. 'I am heartily sick of your pathetic displays of affection to the boy. Do you really think that you have the ability to take the situation any easier for the pair of you?'

Tears flip out of my eyes at the cruelty of it.

'Please-' I begin.

'No.' He cuts my plea in half, killing it dead. 'I have decided that you shall not offer your friend any comfort, or any help. We wouldn't want to make the situation too personal, would we?

At that moment I burn so much with hate that I feel electric shocks run through me. It takes me so violently that I can't speak. I just shake against the wall with fury as I stare long and hard into that cold, smug, evil face.

I've never hated anyone as much as I hate Lucius right now.

I've never hated anyone as much as I hate myself right now. If I had just kept my mouth shut five minutes ago, then I might be able to touch Ron now.

'So, what's first up today?' Dolohov asks, eagerness lighting up his twisted face as he sets up the levitating quill and parchment in the corner of the room. I notice that he's got a black eye, and I wonder just how much of a fight Ron has put up since he was brought here.

A better one than you did, that's for certain.

'First, I want you to give the boy this potion.' Lucius pulls a small, black bottle out of his robes. Dolohov holds his hands out eagerly, but Lucius passes him over and hand the potion to Bellatrix, who looks at it curiously while Dolohov's face falls with disappointment almost comically.

I'd laugh if the situation wasn't so awful.

'What is it, Lucius?' Bellatrix asks, taking the bottle with an almost hungry look in her eye.

'I brewed it up last night. It's an ingenious little potion, although I say so myself. For as long as it holds effect, he will still be able to speak, to scream, but he will be unable to answer any questions that are not aimed directly at him.'

Oh my god!

Bellatrix's mouth twitches up slightly into a smile, while Dolohov just looks confused.

'The boy has already answered any questions we need him to answer, Antonin,' Lucius explains to him. 'But we still have not yet finished in our questioning of Miss Granger. You saw how stubborn she was the other day. Well now I want to see how long she will last under a different kind of pressure. I want to see how long she can watch her friend suffer for what she believes in.'

Antonin starts to grin horribly as Bellatrix lets out a high-pitched little giggle.

'Oh that's almost too cruel, Lucius,' she croons, her voice brimming with glee.

I stare at Lucius' face as it smiles at me mockingly, and I want nothing more than to tear it to pieces, to rip it to shreds.

I can't believe any of it. I don't know how anyone could be so completely and utterly foul!

'Help me, Antonin,' Bellatrix says as she rolls up her sleeves and pulls the stopper out of the bottle. A small wisp of smoke escapes from the rim as the stopper leaves it with a hollow 'pop'.

Dolohov roughly pulls Ron up onto his knees, and wrenches his head back. Ron begins to struggle wildly, pushing and pulling against Dolohov's grip.

'Get the fuck off me, you sick bastards!'

Bellatrix shoots a jet-black shot of light at his stomach as he speaks, and he doubles over, howling in pain. I feel my heart being ripped in two as I watch it happen, and I struggle so hard against my invisible bonds, but I just can't move.

Lucius is smirking at me.

Bellatrix moves to stand over Ron as Dolohov tries to wrench his mouth open. Ron struggles against them, and turns to me, shouting wildly.

'Don't Hermione-'

Before he can make his meaning clear Dolohov rips his jaw open, and Bellatrix stands over him, holding the open bottle over his open mouth. Thick, glooping, dark green liquid falls out of the bottle and into his open mouth, down his throat.

'That's right, baby, take your medicine,' Bellatrix whines mockingly.

Ron gags and chokes. The sickening sound wrenches through me as the liquid spills out over his chin and streams out through his nose.

'Stop it!' I scream. 'Leave him alone! He's going to choke!'

'Now now,' Lucius drawls. 'He's a brave boy, I'm sure he can take it.'

Ron collapses forward, heaving and coughing, drawing huge rasping breaths as the horrible stuff runs down his chin.

I'm so sorry, Ron. I'm so sorry!

Lucius laughs lightly at him, before turning to face me with a horrible, horrible sneer on his face.

'Are you ready to answer our questions, Miss Granger?'

I don't answer him. I just look at Ron as he lies on the floor, gradually getting his breath back and wiping the foul liquid away from his chin.

I feel an invisible grip wrench my head up to face Lucius.

'I want you to tell me... to tell us exactly where Potter was planning on going when you last saw him.'

Oh, God!

'Don't tell them, Hermione!' Ron shouts. 'Don't tell them anything, do you hear?'

Lucius smirks at him patronisingly.

'No need to shout, Weasley. I'm sure that she can hear you perfectly.'

'Shut it, Malfoy!' Ron bellows at him, staggering slightly as he tries to pull himself to his feet.

'How dare you speak to him like that?' Bellatrix's voice rings out, loud and clear as she raises her wand at him 'You disgusting little blood-traitor, how dare you? Crucio!'

And then there are screams. Horrible, awful screams flying round the room, burning my ears as Ron heaves and writhes on the ground.

'STOP IT!' I scream. 'PLEASE, STOP IT!'

'Enough, Bella.'

At Lucius' command Bellatrix raises her wand, and Ron collapses on the ground, whimpering slightly, and I can't move to help him, I can't.

Lucius is watching me.

'Tell us what we want to know, Mudblood.'

I try not to panic. I take a deep breath, attempting to keep my head and try to think things through logically.

If I refuse to tell them, they'll torture Ron again. I can't let that happen, I just can't.

But if I tell them where Harry was planning on going, they may be able to find him, and if they find him they'll kill him, there's no doubt about that. And then not only will my friend die, but the war will be lost. Harry is the only person who can finally destroy Voldemort.

And that's not all. If I tell them where Harry was planning on going, then they could find out that Harry knows about the Horcruxes. And Voldemort can't know that Harry knows about the Horcruxes - he just can't. It's vital to Harry's victory that it's kept a secret for as long as possible; otherwise Voldemort could move them and hide them somewhere else.

I look down at Ron, who's pulling himself shakily up to his feet.

'Don't do it Hermione,' he says quietly. 'Whatever they do to me, I can put up with it, just don't give Harry away-'

His words are cut off as Dolohov grabs him by the front of his robes and punches him in the jaw.

'We didn't ask you to speak, you puny little bastard!'

'Put him down, Antonin.'

Dolohov obeys Lucius' command, and throws Ron to the floor. I look down at my friend, who shakes his head at me silently.

As if it will make it any easier for you to see him tortured if he has allowed you to do it.

'Think about it, Miss Granger.' Lucius is walking over to me, slowly. 'Just think it through. He needn't go through any more pain than he has already been through in the last twenty four hours. Surely he has suffered enough already.' And he reaches me, leaning in to whisper in my ear. 'If you answer my question, then we shall spare him.'

'Just leave her alone!' Ron starts to shout, but he's cut short when Dolohov's booted foot lands in his stomach. I gasp in horror and tears fall out of my eyes as I frantically try to work out what to do.

Ron or Harry?

That's the choice I have been presented with. I have to choose between my two best friends.

Oh god, don't make me choose!

'Do you want to see him in pain?' Lucius whispers in my ear like a demon on my shoulder. 'Because he will suffer, oh he will suffer greatly if you refuse us.'

I open my eyes. Ron is lying on the ground, rubbing at his stomach and breathing heavily.

This is so difficult. The most difficult thing I've ever had to do.

'Come on, girl!' Bellatrix yells with impatience, and a few sparks fly out of the end of her wand as her eyes dart to and fro frantically.

Lucius grips me by the chin and wrenches my face up to look at him.

'You fool,' he mutters, so low that I don't think the others will be able to hear him. 'Don't you see that you have the opportunity to save someone you love? I thought you believed in that useless emotion.' He wrenches my head back to face Ron. 'This boy means the world to you, more so than Potter, I would say. I have seen the truth of that staring back at me from behind your eyes. You could save him, and so easily.'

I don't know what to do!

Ron looks at me, his eyes burning into mine.

'Just don't do it, Hermione,' he murmurs. 'I can take it. I can handle anything these bastards throw at me.'

Lucius finally loses patience. He sighs in exasperation, and walks away from me towards Ron.

'You will remember that delightful little spell I cast on your hand? The one that burned your skin? The one that made it bubble with heat?'

My stomach shrivels up with horror.

'No, please, stop-'

He's not listening to me. He turns to Bellatrix.

'Where do you think, Bellatrix?'

Bellatrix grins at her brother in law, practically licking her lips at him.

'Perhaps down his arms, Lucius.'

Lucius smirks at her, and points his wand at Ron's shoulder.

'No.' Bellatrix moves over, and holds Ron's arm out, turning it slightly so that I can see the pale, sensitive skin along the inner side of it.

'Along here.' Bellatrix runs a finger down the inside of Ron's arm. 'This is were it will hurt him the most.'

Ron stares at her, his expression horrified, as Lucius smirks all the wider at her.

'You always know just how things should be done, Bella.'

He runs his hand lightly over her cheek, just lightly touching her skin with his finger tips, starting just next to her eye and running down slowly to her chin. She grins back at him before turning to Dolohov.

'Give me a hand here, will you?' she asks, throwing the command at him carelessly.

'No, please, stop it! Hurt me if you want me to talk, but don't hurt him, please-'

They're not listening to me.

Bellatrix and Dolohov hold Ron down as they rip his t-shirt from his body. I notice with horror that his stomach is covered with large, horrible bruises, so severe that they're almost black in colour, outlined with purple and red and yellow like a horrible paint palette.

Oh my god, what's happened to him?

'Get off of me, you evil-'

Lucius cuts Ron's words off with a slap across the face.

I don't know what to do, what shall I do?

'Please don't hurt him, please!'

Lucius ignores me, and presses his wand into the underside of Ron's arm - the soft fleshy bit that rubs against his torso.

'Don't say anything, Hermione!' Ron yells, but then the words are swallowed up by his screams as the soft, sensitive skin burns under the touch of the wand. His screams rock through me, ripping me apart, burning me, buzzing through me, wrenching through my heart, my head, my ears.

I can't let it go on, I can't!

'Stop it stop it! I'll tell you, I'll tell you!'

But they don't stop.

Lucius trails his wand down Ron's arm, bringing it slowly down to his palm, leaving a burning, bubbling, shiny red trail down his limb. Ron screams as his face contorts with pain and tears roll down his cheeks. I can't stand it. I do all that I can think of to help him.

I give them what they want - God help me, but I tell them what they want to know. I tell them that Harry was planning to stay at the Burrow for Bill and Fleur's wedding, and that he was then planning to go to Godric's Hollow, to visit his parents' graves.

'And where then?' Bellatrix asks, raising her voice so that she can make her voice heard over Ron's screams. She holds Ron down as he bucks and writhes in her grip. 'Where does he plan to go afterwards?'

I hesitate then, because I know what's at stake with this question. It's not just Harry's safety, but the safety of the entire world that hangs on this question.

Without giving myself any real time to think it through, I give an answer.

'I don't know.'

It's true. Technically it's true. I know what he was going to do, but I have absolutely no idea where he would have to go to destroy the Horcruxes.

Lucius pulls his wand away from Ron's skin as Dolohov lets go of Ron to inspect the parchment.

'She's telling the truth.'

I stop the sigh of relief that threatens to escape from my lips. That quill has one fault, then. It can't detect when I'm hiding something that I haven't been directly asked for.

Thank God for that.

Oh, but Harry, Harry-

I've given Harry away again.

It might be alright. He probably won't go to Godric's Hollow now, and he certainly won't be going back to the Burrow, will he?

'Antonin, get hold of him again,' Lucius says as he moves his wand to Ron's other arm.

'What are you doing?' I ask, confusion flooding me. 'I've given you what you want! What are you doing?'

He turns to me, smiling slightly.

'What does it look like I'm doing, Mudblood?'

'But I've given you what you want!' I say frantically.

'Yes I know.' He grins. 'It's just that I can't bear lack of symmetry.'

He presses his wand to Ron's skin, to the supple, vulnerable skin on the underside of his arm. Ron screams and wails once again as Lucius drags his wand down his arm, burning a bright red line into his skin.

'STOP IT!' I scream. 'WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME? JUST STOP!'

But I'm completely useless. I can only scream and shout, and I am unable to do anything apart from listen to my best best best friend's screams fling around the room.

Eventually, eventually, the screams stop as Lucius pulls his wand away from his skin.

Ron lies on the ground, two great red wells running in tracks down the inside of his arms. I feel my heart being ripped out of my chest to see him.

I'm sorry, I'm so sorry.

I look at Lucius, violent, unbearable rage spilling out of my mouth like vomit in screams and shouts.

'Why didn't you stop? What the hell was that for?'

Lucius twirls his wand between his fingers, smiling down at his handiwork with immense satisfaction.

'I have a long-running feud with the Weasleys. I will never pass up an opportunity to cause one of them any discomfort. I believe I proved that with the incident with the Diary.'

That can't be it. That can't be the only reason why he's done this. No-one could be that cruel!

'Will you heal him?' I don't know why I'm asking. I don't know why I'm expecting kindness from him, of all things. 'You healed me the other day.'

Bellatrix looks at him incredulously.

'What on earth would you heal her for?'

Lucius silences her by raising his hand imperiously. She shuts her mouth like a trap, and looks at me with eyes narrowed in intense suspicion. Lucius frowns at her before he replies to me.

'I don't think I will, Mudblood. I'm not sure whether I'd be able to forgive myself were I to heal a Weasley.'

'You BASTARD!'

Anger blasts through me. Tears rip up from my gut and burst hot out of my eyes and course down my cheeks.

'You're nothing but a sick, disgusting COWARD! How can you do that to a seventeen year old boy just because you hate his father? You sick, sick FUCK-'

I feel a huge invisible fist punch me in the face, and my head reels sideways with the blow.

But it wasn't Lucius that time.

Bellatrix moves over me, her face mocking and furious at the same time.

'You stupid, insolent little girl!' She spits on me, and I feel the small blob of her spit land on my cheek. 'How dare you talk to your betters like that?'

She points her wand at me, and a jet of orange light shoots out of her wand and hits me in the stomach.

And then waves of nausea wash over me, again and again in rippling tides. I buck and writhe against the bonds that hold me to the wall, and my body heaves and heaves, and I feel it coming up from my gut, up my chest, through my throat, and ooooh no, not again!

Vomit comes up into my mouth, over and over again. It spills out of my lips and streams out of my nose. I try to breathe through it and the acid falls back into my throat, choking me.

And then my airways clear and my stomach stops heaving as the curse leaves me, and I see Ron with his arms around Bellatrix's neck, pulling her backwards and away from me.

'Leave her alone you evil bitch! Just leave her alone!'

It's a losing battle from the outset, though. Dolohov waves his wand at Ron, who flies backwards and slams into the wall.

'You stupid little bastard!' Dolohov roars, his face contorted with rage. 'What do you think you're doing? Crucio!'

Ron screams and yells, falling to the floor and twitching in agony.

'No!' I scream. 'Please stop it, please!'

'That's enough, Antonin.'

Dolohov looks for a moment as if he might refuse Lucius' curt command, but he raises his wand, and Ron stops screaming and lies curled up on the floor, twitching and shivering.

And I start to sob, then. Huge, aching sobs of pain, pain, pain.

A peal of laughter rings out from the other side of the room.

'Do either of you really think that you have any control over the situation you are in?' Bellatrix is slightly breathless after her struggle with Ron, but her eyes are as alight and feverish as they ever were. 'Do you think to overpower us? Do you think to escape us?' She lets out a shout of laughter again. 'You really must abandon such foolish notions. We will get what we want, no matter how long it takes - you cannot escape that. You may as well accept it - from now on, you will obey us. You will obey us until we are finished with you, and then you shall die, alone, friendless and weak.'

Sickness washes over me as the truth of her words hits me. Utter hopelessness and despair hit me. I want to cry, to scream, to bleed.

'True words, Bella.' Lucius turns to me. 'You would be wise to take heed of them.'

I close my eyes, wanting to block everything out. But they're not finished with us yet.

'Will you tell us about the Order, Miss Granger?'

Lucius' voice snaps my eyes open.

How can I give them what they want again without leading good, innocent people to their deaths?

But how can I hold out against them without causing Ron yet more pain?

I just keep silent as I try to decide what to do. I feel it all crashing down on me, becoming too much to bear.

'Are you going to answer us, Mudblood?' Lucius asks, watching me intently.

I look at Ron, who shakes slightly on the floor, his eyes shut as tears squeeze out of them, and then I look at Lucius, and at Bellatrix, and at Dolohov.

'How can you do this? To human beings?'

Lucius smiles at me patronisingly.

'Quite easily, I think you'll find.'

I don't know what to do!

I open and close my mouth several times, trying desperately to work out what I should do. Because either I help Voldemort to lose the war, or I let them hurt Ron even more than they have already.

Eventually, Lucius loses patience with me.

'I'm sorry to do this to you, Mudblood,' he says, with no remorse in his voice whatsoever. 'But I'm afraid that you leave me no choice. I simply don't have the time for hesitation.'

He raises his wand, but not at Ron.

'Imperio!'

No...

All thought is gone. All feeling, all emotion, it's all gone far away, leaving me just here floating in the light, warm haze...

And I'm free of the wall. Oh, that's so lovely of you! You'd do anything to help me, wouldn't you?

'Take the knife.'

The knife, the knife. I take the knife. I'll do anything for that voice, anything, anything. Just keep me like this forever, and I'll do anything and everything to please you, oh, I promise I will!

There's a hand in front of me.

'Cut off the thumb.'

No. I can't!

'Why not? What does it matter? Cut off the thumb.'

But it's his thumb! RON's thumb! I can't!

But... so warm, so comfortable. Oh, why can't I stay like this forever?

'Cut off the thumb.'

Yes, oh yes. That voice, that voice tells me to do it. I'll do anything for that voice, anything...

Anything...

The warmth seeps away from me, filtered with screams, and pain, and blood.

Not my blood. Not my pain.

Not my screams.

Horror crashes down on my as Ron lies screaming on the floor, cradling his bloody, bloody hand. I look down at myself. Blood, blood everywhere, sticky and dark on my hands, and on the floor.

Oh my god! Ohmygodohmygodohmygod!

A thumb, his thumb, lying on the floor, surrounded by blood, severed off.

Oh my god!

The blood the blood the blood!

I scream along with Ron, our screams mingle together to form a cacophony. It fills my brain, it presses down on me and, Jesus Christ, how could I do it?

I tell them everything. I scream it at them. I tell them everything, and anything. I tell them everything I know about the Order, about members of the Order, about what I saw of their activities. I give them names, addresses, personality traits of the members I know of, and names of any possible friends, family members and even casual acquaintances those members might have. I tell them everything, everything and anything to stop Ron's pain.

After a time, when I literally can't think of anything else to tell them, Lucius holds up his hand to me.

'That will do. Check the parchment, Antonin.'

Dolohov runs his eyes over the parchment.

'It's black. She's told the truth.'

Lucius smiles slightly.

'Good. We can move on to the next question, then.'

'No, wait!' I crawl over to Lucius, forgetting my pride which never, ever mattered anyway. 'Please, seal his thumb back on. I know that it can be done, if you don't leave it too long. I'll do anything, please-'

'Anything, you say?' Dolohov asks from behind me. 'I wonder - what would you do, girl, to have us heal him? What price would you be willing to pay?'

He begins to laugh a disgusting, lewd laugh, but Lucius cuts him short.

'Please, Antonin, don't lower the tone.' Lucius looks down at me as I feel tears burn my eyes, and I mentally beg him, beg him to help my friend.

Eventually, he moves away from me and over to Ron, who cowers and moans and cries on the ground.

'Pick up his thumb and hold it on the join.'

I realise that he's talking to me, and so I pick up the cold, fleshy, inanimate object from the floor and I hold it to the severed hole on Ron's hand, trying to ignore all of the blood surrounding it. Lucius points his wand at the join, and a warm, golden light spears out to it, fixing the skin back together, sealing it seamlessly.

Ron stops moaning and looks at his thumb incredulously, the tears drying on his face. I lean forward and I kiss his cheek, holding his face fiercely in my bloodied hands.

'I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to, I didn't know-'

He looks at me, and grips me tightly by the hand, nodding at me with his eyes blank in his face, but saying nothing.

Does he know? Does he really know that I didn't know what I was doing, that I'll never never forgive myself for this?

I hope that he does know.

I'm so sorry.

I hear Lucius' light laughter.

'I hope you're proud of your young man, Mudblood,' he sneers. 'I hope that you're pleased with the snivelling little wretch that can't even endure five minutes of pain without bawling like a baby. You should be well matched, the pair of you.'

Ron's head snaps up as he shakes with anger next to me.

'I'd like to see you last five minutes under what we've both been through, you piece of shit!'

Bellatrix lunges towards him, but Lucius holds his hand out to stop her without looking away from us. And he's smirking.

'I've been through just as much as you have, if not more,' he says quietly, and he's still smirking even though I think I can see the ghost of a shadow crossing over his eyes. 'Oh yes, contrary to popular opinion we don't treat our prisoners any worse than how your side treat the prisoners in Azkaban.'

No. He... he's lying, that's all. The Aurors wouldn't... the Order wouldn't let it happen.

He's looking at me, judging my reaction, and his smirk grows wider.

'You don't believe me, do you, Mudblood? Well, let me tell you, you have absolutely no idea what the new guards of Azkaban do in their spare time. They had to do something to make their prisoners feel as hopeless as the Dementors made them feel.'

'You're lying,' I whisper.

'I'm afraid he's not, Mudblood.' Dolohov steps forward. 'I was there too, thanks to you two and your little friends. I saw it all. Believe me, what we're putting you through is a picnic compared to what they did to me during my first night in prison.'

But... but they wouldn't... would they?

Ron recovers before I do.

'Even if that did happen, that's no sodding excuse!' he blazes. 'What have we ever done to you to deserve this?'

'Do you even need to ask that?' Bellatrix asks, her eyes darting about frantically. 'Look at yourselves; a Mudblood and a Blood-traitor. Do we even need an 'excuse', as you call it?'

'Even if they did treat you as badly as you've treated us,' Ron says shakily, ignoring Bellatrix's question, 'you people deserve it, all of it, for everything you've done. You fucking deserved all of it!'

Oh no, oh no!

Hard rage crosses all of their faces, but Lucius' face goes so cold and so hard that it terrifies me. He turns silently to Dolohov.

'After you, Antonin.'

Dolohov advances on Ron, his wand raised and a horribly hungry expression on his face.

'Oh, you're in trouble now, boy.'

***

Finally, finally, what feels like hours later it finishes. It's all over as Bellatrix and Dolohov drag Ron out of the room. After they have gone, Lucius locks the door and turns to me with a small smile.

'Well, that was a most satisfying... session, wouldn't you agree Miss Granger? We have every last little bit of information we wanted from you. It has taken some time, I grant you, but it is over now. I have what I wanted.'

I sit still, perfectly still on the floor. Still as stone, and the stench of blood fills my nostrils and spreads along my tongue.

Blood. Ron's blood on my hands.

I gave them everything they wanted, after they made me cut off his thumb. Everything they asked for - everything about Harry, and Dumbledore, and Hogwarts, everything that could ever be of use to them. I gave it to them, so that they wouldn't cause my friend any more pain. Ron told me not to, but I couldn't let any more of it happen, I couldn't. Especially after what Dolohov did to him after he told them that they deserved what happened to them in Azkaban. They pinned me to the wall, and I could do nothing to help him as they punished him for what he said.

And then I gave them everything they asked for.

'Tell me, my brave little Mudblood, did you learn something about courage this evening?'

I've never felt so angry in my entire life. It bubbles and steams like a spring deep inside of me, threatening to consume everything. It's going to overwhelm me. I shake as I get to my feet, and clench my jaw, my head pounding so hard it's going to burst.

'Fuck you.' My words come out tight, barely escaping my throat.

He smiles all the wider, feeding off of my rage and my pain. He moves closer to me, backing me into the wall.

'I would say that you have finally learned some obedience. You seemed most eager to do as you're told today. It seems that even you have a price, even for what you hoped you would never have to sell.'

I can't bear it. I want to smash up every inch of his pale, smug face. I want to cut him deep, to make him bleed, to make him scream...

To make him feel just as bad as I do.

He's close to me now, making the hairs on my skin stand up on end, pushing hate hate hate up through my body.

'I can scarcely believe how one could do such a thing.' His smile is going to split his face in half, I know it. 'To your own best friend; the boy you love, no less. It would have broken your heart, I am sure, should you have seen the look of betrayal on his face as you plunged the knife into his hand.'

That's it. Anger explodes within me, shatters me into a million pieces.

'You... you sick, twisted... you, you...'

I can barely get my words out. His smile grows wider, and as he breathes a small laugh I snap in half, and my hand flies and I slap him hard across the face.

A bloodied handprint appears on his white cheek, which blooms pink due to the sting of the blow.

I don't care - I slap him again, and again, and I slam my fists into his chest. I hit him and hit him with balled up fists, screaming with rage and pain and frustration and complete and utter hatred.

Lucius grabs my wrists, wrenching me away from him. Rage burns on his face, which is stained with Ron's blood and my handprints. He brings back his own hand, and he slaps me across the face, once, twice, three times, much harder than I hit him. My face snaps with each blow, and I fall backwards onto the floor, tears and moans and words of pain escaping me.

'You made me do it! You made me - I didn't want to!'

He wrenches my head back by my hair, burning my scalp with his grip.

'How dare you?' he whispers, holding my face so near to his own. 'You dare to raise a hand to me?'

'Why not?' I scream. 'You've hurt me! Why can't I hurt you back?'

He raises his wand to my face, snarling with fury. I pull my face back, squinting in preparation for what he's about to do.

But nothing happens. He just breathes a tiny, mirthless laugh, running his wand down my cheek.

'Oh, look at you!' he murmurs. 'You think you're so strong, but in reality you're so pathetically weak.'

'I'm not weak-' I begin to whimper.

'Oh no?' he asks. 'Look at how quickly you have given me everything I want. Just a little pain, a little suffering, and you sing like a bird, a little baby bird. You can't even resist the Imperius curse. What kind of strength is that? You weak, stupid little girl. God only knows why you were put into Gryffindor - the house of the brave, isn't it?'

I feel so disgusting, because I know what he's saying is true. I can remember the sound of the Sorting hat as it whispered into my ear.

I think you're definitely a Ravenclaw. Such a brain - such logic! No? You want to be in Gryffindor? Well, only if you're sure...

I shouldn't be in Gryffindor. I was only put in there because I wanted to be there. I shouldn't be there because I'm weak, weak, weak.

He's looking deep into my eyes, probing deep into my mind, and I try to shut down my thoughts. I won't let him see that, I won't let him know...

It's too late. He smiles again, and for a moment my head pounds so badly that his face blurs in front of me, becoming a smear of pink, yellow, black and red, red, red-

'Is that true?' His voice brings me back from wherever I've gone, and my sight clears to see his grinning face. 'Ravenclaw? No wonder you're so weak. All that house knows is thought and logic.'

'I'm a Gryffindor!' I say. 'The hat put me in there; it wouldn't have done if that isn't where I belong-'

'But it would, Mudblood. It would, because of the absurd notion that it is our choices that make us what we are. Well, you'd best abandon that ridiculous idea. There are some things you just can't change.'

'That's not true!' I say, the words ringing hollow, as if I don't really believe them any more.

He looks at me intently for a while, the anger having left his face.

'Do you genuinely believe that? Draco told me all about your ridiculous little crusade for Elf rights. Oh, we did laugh about that little story. Do you think to change the world for the better, little Mudblood?'

I don't answer him. I just breathe deeply as he continues to look at me intently.

'Are we really so different, you and I?' he asks, his voice quiet and still. 'We both want to change the world. I want to rid the magical world of Muggles, and I go to extreme lengths to achieve what I want. You - you want Wizards to free the elves. You think, perhaps, to make the world a better place by doing so. What measures did you go to in order to achieve your goal?'

He delves into my mind again. I can feel him rooting around, an invisible hand creeping around my brain. I try to keep my mind blank, but I can't stop myself from thinking... besides, what does it matter what he finds out, anyway? Nothing matters, not after what I did to Ron today...

'Well, I never thought I would see such cruelty from you, Miss Granger!' His entire face lights up with laughter. 'Leaving house elves clothes.' He tuts at me disapprovingly. 'That's a terrible thing to do. House elves don't want freedom, and yet you attempted to force it upon them.' His eyes rest intently on my face, and he frowns slightly. 'We aren't so different, after all. Both of us are prepared to resort to cruelty to achieve our ends. The only difference is that I, at least, am prepared to admit it.'

That's it for me, I'm afraid. Tears burst from my eyes as I finally give way.

'I'm not like you, I'm not!'

My words come out in wails, and sobs rock through me. I hate myself for it, and I try to stop myself, but I just can't.

'No, you're right.' He lets go of me and throws me to the floor, and when I look back up at him he's got disgust all over his face. 'We're not alike at all. I would never embarrass myself like you have in front of your enemies. Good god, you're so disgustingly pathetic. It's a shame, really. I might almost have respect for you if it were not for your damned weakness.'

He turns away from me and leaves the room, shutting the door quietly behind him. He leaves me sobbing to myself, curled up in a ball on the floor, shaking and hurting and ill, drenched in the blood of my very best friend in the world.