"Well, well," said Lord Voldemort, as Ginny Weasley was thrusted before him, "If it isn't my good old friend Ginevra."

Ginny was aching all over; she had been captured, abused and tortured for Merlin knows how long. Her cell didn't consist of windows, so she had started to get used to the darkness, therefore the bright lights in the room she was in now gave her a headache. Faint bruises covered her body, her lips chapped and mane of long, red hair unkept.

"Hello, T-Tom." she said, rebelliously, and she could feel the few Death Eaters in the room stirring. Her voice was hoarse from all the screaming she had been doing, but still managed to speak loud enough for everyone to hear.

"Crucio."

She had felt the curse many times now, but never before like this. Every bone in her body was literally set aflame and her mind was melting. She was balling her hands and could feel her fingernails penetrating her palms, drawing blood. There seemed to be no sound coming out of her open mouth, but she was, in fact, screaming.

"You insolent little brat," Voldemort seethed, "You will learn some respect, or your precious blood traitor family will pay the price!"

"H-Hidden," she choked.

"Not anymore, Weasley," he said, and beckoned four hooded figures to come forward. They dropped their hoods, and Ginny gasped. It was her parents, alongside with Percy and Bill. Their eyes had a certain mistiness to them, and didn't seem to recognize her.

"Imperiused," she whispered, then turned to face Voldemort. "Others?"

"Dead." he said with relish, and Ginny's heart sank. She shut her eyes, but tried to stay strong, even though tears were leaking. She cleared her throat.

"Why am I still alive?"

"Would you like to die, Ginevra?"

There was a bit of curiosity in his voice, and Ginny knew it was because he feared death more than anything. She, however, did not. She thought Harry and how he wouldn't want her to give up until she had to. She had lost so much to this man– no, monster– before her, and she did not want to lose herself. She would fight, and die fighting, until her very last breath, just like Harry, Ron, Hermione, and most of her friends had done. She owed it to them and to the rest of the world to try as hard as she could to fight his evil.

Ginny shook her head to his question, eyes still closed.

"Curious," said Voldemort, "Well then, take her, to your son, Lucius. Tell him that the Dark Lord if very pleased."

Her eyes widened in horror and she had to bite her tongue to keep from crying out. Draco Malfoy had become a ruthless Death Eater, and was notoriously known for it. He helped train incoming Death Eaters, mostly out-of-Hogwarts students, and was in the Dark Lord's "inner circle", as most called it.

"Of course, my Lord." Lucius Malfoy emerged from the hooded figures, grabbed Ginny's trembling arm and Disapparated.

She staggered onto the floor, feeling sick to her empty stomach because of the hasty Apparation. Her breathing was heavy and rapid, and she could hear footsteps coming their way. Sure enough, she then saw elegant, shiny black shoes in front of her, and a pale blond man staring at her incredulously from above.

"What the..." Draco faced his father directly, "What is this?"

"The Dark Lord wished to give you a gift," Lucius explained, "For your notable performances lately, of course."

"Oh," Draco said, stunned, "I see."

Ginny was slipping in and out of consciousness, but was trying to listen intently on what was happening, since it would decide her fate. Malfoy seemed hesitant and surprised, which struck her as odd, seeing even how she heard of his success from her cell. Some Death Eaters talked about him with admiration in their voice, while others were bitter or jealous. Lucius Malfoy's voice was incomprehensible, though.

"He doesn't bestow these sort of things that often, Draco," said Lucius, "Well...well done, son."

There was a bit of awkwardness in the air, then Draco broke the tension.

"I guess I'll be seeing you later," he said to his father, who then nodded his head and Ginny heard him Disapparate.

Draco sat down on a red velvet chair and put his hands on the back of his neck. He then leaned his head backwards, cracking his neck, and let out a deep sigh. He proceeded to stare at the ceiling for the next few minutes, and the last thing Ginny saw was a malicious smile spreading on his lips and cold blue eyes glancing at her.

Ginny awoke to find herself on the most comfortable bed she had felt in her life. Fluffly, soft silver duvets covered her and about a dozen silver pillows were around her, as well. The bed was enormous, and she realized that it was Draco's. Almost shrieking, she sat upwards and looked around– the room was twice the size of her old room, painted Slytherin green. In a haze, she tried getting off the bed, but didn't realize how high it was off the ground and fell quite noisily. She heard tiny, scurrying feet and saw a house elf in the doorway, with large, turquoise eyes.

"Weaslette must get up, Master said!" it cried.

"Wait– what did you call me?" Ginny said, gaping.

"Master said Weaselette must get up to help Opie with the chores!"

"I'm sure he did," she muttered, "Opie, my name isn't Weaselette, it's Ginny."

"Master said your name is Weaselette, and I must follow what Master says!" Opie said, then held out a tiny hand to help her up.

"Thank you, Opie, but I can get–" she stopped mid-sentence, and looked down to see she was wearing an oversized white t-shirt that reached her knees.

"Opie," she said slowly, "Did you change me?"

"Opie did not, Weaselette!"

Ginny's blood was boiling with rage. How dare he, she thought, and made a mental note to never fall unconscious in this place again.

"Opie was told to give Weaselette a tour of the house!" The elf jumped with excitement, "Master said tomorrow Opie will then go to Master's Family Manor to help the other elves, then Weaselette will take Opie's place!"

"No," objected Ginny, "There is absolutely no way I am serving that git. Never in a million years, and I'm not doing any of those bloody chores he says I have to do!"

"Very well," Opie said, looking crestfallen, "Opie will let Weaselette rest while he does chores. Very many chores today, and Master said if not finished when he returns, there will be whipping! Master told Opie to tell Weaselette that!"

Ginny's jaw dropped, and she quickly scrambled to her feet. Even if the whipping meant only Opie, she still would never let that happen. Opie led her out of the room and into the living room, which she recognized the elegant hardwood floor and lavish velvet furniture. The kitchen consisted of a glass refrigerator and white marble counters, which were sparkling clean. There was a small laundry room with an attached balcony outside, which had clotheslines for letting clothes air dry. There was an invisible shield, however, that prevented her from escaping, according to Opie. The dining room was next to it– one large, rectangular wooden table and fancy chairs. She noticed that there wasn't a guest room, then concluded that Malfoy's overnight guests probably were women who shared the same bed as him. There was one small bathroom, with no shower, completely made of white marble, also.

His own personal bathroom, however, was almost as big as his room. She recognized the same white marble that covered every square inch, and a large tub that was the size of her old bed in the middle of the room. There was also a shower, two sinks and a large mirror that covered almost an entire wall. The toilet was in a separate mini room inside this huge one, and of course, made of the same white marble.

Ginny was handed a mop, bucket and sponge to scrub every surface that she could find, while Opie dusted, vacuumed and cooked. After hours of bending her back and on being on her knees, and much cursing on Ginny's part, she learned much about Malfoy's living arrangement from Opie, who worked alongside her. It turned out, the elf was quite a gossip. He explained how Malfoy usually had dinner company four times a week– "Some of them ladies who stay the night!"– and that he only saw both his parents on holidays. His mother, however, came at least once a week for tea– "Dark, one lump of sugar, Opie knows!"– and usually bearing groceries, since he hated shopping for them.

When she approached a window, Ginny saw that they were a few stories up, in muggle London. Though, she knew that this part of London was inhabited by wizards, and mostly wealthy ones that could afford a luxurious pad so close to many pubs, nightclubs and such. Malfoy, of course, would be attracted to this sort of place, as would any young man would, wizard or not. She saw that there were stairs leading down to the street near the window, and when hokey wasn't looking, she tried to smash the glass with a large rock that was part of a plant in the living room. However, it merely bounced back and made a mark on the hardwood floor, as if the glass was actually elastic.

"Bollocks!" Ginny exclaimed, and tried to scrub off the large scratch, but it didn't recede.

As it started getting dark and Ginny was finished helping Opie with the cooking by cutting up carrots, she was startled by the sound of someone Apparating into the living room, and accidentally cut her finger. It began to bleed, and she turned to ask Opie where the first aid kid was, but he had run after to greet Draco. She refused to go to his beck and call, deciding already that she wouldn't be a willing servant, especially to this specific Death Eater. Blood was seeping out of her finger and she wrapped a paper towel around it, tying it tightly. She could hear Opie greeting his Master with excitement, offering him food, a drink, and taking his coat. Then, when the elf revealed that Ginny was in the kitchen, she heard his footsteps coming her way and she continued cutting the carrots with much more concentration. When the door opened, she didn't look up, but knew he was standing there.

She continued to slice the carrots carefully, so that she wouldn't cut herself, and absorbed herself in the task so that she could forget that he was there. After a few minutes of silence, he started to get impatient.

"You can't cut carrots forever."

Ignoring him, she continued her task, and when she was on her second to last one, she slowed down. He walked over, grabbed her hand with the knife and wrestled it out of her. She was a lot stronger than he thought she would be, especially after spending weeks as the Dark Lord's prisoner, but he still managed to pry it from her fingers. She bit her tongue and turned her head away, but he grabbed her chin and forced her to look at him.

"You will look at me when I'm talking to you!" he spat, and she was about to retaliate until she remembered that Opie was still here, and her defiance could bring harm on him. Instead, she merely nodded, and he smirked.

Draco set down the knife on the counter behind her, leaning in. She was repulsed by his closeness, but swallowed and could tell he was enjoying her discomfort. "Weaselette, I thought you'd put up a fight. Good, you're smarter than I thought."

He took out his wand and summoned a bottle of firewhiskey from the decanters and two glasses, then poured them both drinks.

"Have some." he ordered, and when it was in her hand, he made a toast. "To fun times ahead!" Taking a gulp out of the glass, he noticed she was hesitating and instead took a tiny sip.

"Have you eaten anything?"

She shook her head, and he slammed his hand against the marble, but she was unfazed.

"You will speak when you are spoken to," he said, then repeated his question.

"No," she replied, finally looking at him dead in the eye, "I have not."

"Well, you're going to have to wait a bit longer," Malfoy said, "We have guests coming soon and you're going to help me with my bath." Ginny glared at him and he chuckled, pulling her closer. "After that, I'm going to help you become less of a filthy little blood traitor."