DISCLAIMER: I own nothing, except an overactive imagination and a bad case of insomnia.

SUMMARY: It was a normal day- well, as normal as things could be with for Ginny with a war raging around her and love sweeping her off her feet- that lead to the most terrifying situation any witch would ever want to be in: captured by Death Eaters and held captive by the man who killed Albus Dumbledore, the man whom he trusted until his dying breath. Will Ginny be able to see past the harsh mask of a man who has endured so much pain that he is afraid to feel? A story of redemption and compassion, of forgiving others and learning how to forgive yourself

Ginny drifted in and out of consciousness, remembering only vague bits and pieces of the following day or so. She could remember being dragged helpless and bound across a cold stone floor, remember a high, cold, terrifying voice. She remembered hearing cold laughter, and feeling a sharp pain in her head as something hard collided with her skull.

She recalled other, less painful sensations as well; a cooling substance being carefully applied to her injured leg, a cold, pale hand gently opening her mouth to pour icy water down her throat.

When she finally awoke, she found herself lying in a bed in a thoroughly unfamiliar room, seemingly alone. Wild, half crazed thoughts began to scurry through her mind. ‘Where was she? Was this some room at Hogwarts that she had never seen? At Grimmauld Place? And where the bloody hell was her wand?’

Ginny scoured her foggy memory, trying to find an answer. She remembered going into Hogsmeade with Harry, Ron, and Hermione. She remembered going outside with Harry to escape the heat of the pub. And then it came to her. Now she remembered the attack, remembered Harry lying helpless on the cold ground, remembered saving him, remembered those spells hitting her back, making her black out.

Ginny swore under her breath and as she realized what must have happened to her. She had been captured by the people who had been attacking her Harry, who most likely Death Eaters. This was no Order safehouse, she realized, but most likely the home of one of the Death Eaters who ambushed the two. She fought desperately with herself, with the icy fear within her chest.

‘Come on’ Ginny thought’ I’m supposed to be a Gryffindor, for Merlin’s sake! I’m supposed to be brave! I’m supposed to be bloody courageous!’

Another thought, slightly more hopeful, entered her mind

‘At least it’s me who got captured, and not Harry.’ The wizarding world couldn’t have lost Harry, and to tell the truth, she couldn’t have lived with herself if he had died while it had been her power to save him.

She tried to sit up to assess the situation she was in, but the slightest movement sent pain through every fiber of her body. She sucked in a sharp breath. Merlin’s beard, that had hurt! What had those sadistic bastards done to her?

‘Alright, Weasley,’ she told herself, ‘calm down. It won’t do anybody any good for you to start panicking now.’

Ginny gave a long controlled sigh. She needed something to focus on other her fear, so she began looking more closely around the room.

She was lying in a low bed, and the room around her was dark, dusty, and looked like it hadn’t been used in quite a long time. From a small window on her left shone a small ray of sunlight trying to push its way into the darkened room. Bookshelves filled with old, thick volumes covered the wall directly in front of her, with a door on her right.

Abruptly, something stirred in the corner of the room next to the bookshelves. A bit startled, she focused in on what she had previously assumed to be a shadow, and to her dismay, she realized it was not a shadow at all, but a dark haired man, a man whom she recognized all too well.

      “You,” Ginny sputtered, the fear she had felt before turning instantly to cold anger. The man, realizing that she was awake, snapped shut the book he had been reading, rose from his chair, and strode across the room toward her.

She couldn’t believe her eyes. There, before her, was the man Harry hated almost as much as Voldemort himself, the man who had betrayed the Order, the man who had murdered Albus Dumbledore. There was something Ginny had been longing to say to him ever since that night two years ago, and, reasoning that she had nothing to lose, she finally said it, or, rather, shouted it.

  “YOU EVIL, MURDERING BASTARD,” she yelled, disregarding the sharp pain shooting through her head as her face reddened to match the color of her disheveled hair. “HE TRUSTED YOU, AND YOU KILLED HIM!” By now she was breathing heavily, her narrowed chestnut brown eyes boring into his black ones.

      “That will be quite enough.” Severus Snape snapped icily, his dark eyes flashing. He pulled his wand from within his robes, directed it at Ginny, and before she had time to think, cried “Langlok.” It was as though someone had stuffed a gag around Ginny’s mouth; she could still breath, but when she attempted to speak, nothing could escape her lips.

Even if she wanted to get up and make a run for it, and from what she’d felt before it would be agony to do so, she would be wandless and confronting a man who not only had a wand, but was undoubtably much more skilled at using it than she was. It seemed she had no choice but to hear him out, so she decided to content herself with giving him a scathing frown.

      “Now that it is quiet,” Snape drawled silkily, pausing slightly to add effect to his words, “ there are a few things I need to say to you without interruption.”

  “As you have doubtless guessed” he began, his voice riddled with an emotion she could only guess was contempt, “you were captured by Death Eaters the night that Mr. Potter and yourself were attacked. When you were brought before him, the Dark Lord has decided that, rather than kill you straight away, you are to be held captive until such time that he decides what to do with you.”

Snape took a deep breath before continuing. “I can only guess that he knows how torturous it will be for Mr. Potter to have no idea where you are, for him to spend every waking moment obsessed with your return, guilt stricken that he let you be captured.”

      Ginny felt as though someone had knocked all the breath out of her. That she hadn’t thought of, although now that Snape mentioned it, she couldn’t believe she hadn’t considered it. She knew that Harry had a very over developed guilt complex, and he blamed himself when his friends were hurt. No, No, NO! Harry couldn’t become distracted! Not now, not when they were so close! She couldn’t bear the thought that he would fail, putting everything the Order worked so hard for in jeopardy, all because of her stupidity.

      Snape continued coldly. “For some reason unfathomable to me, the Dark Lord has decided that you are to remain here until he finds some use for you. I assume this is because he knows this house is Unplottable, and as I am already a fugitive from the law, I am...experienced at concealing myself. Do not try to escape. If you are stupid enough to try, the wards on this house will leave you incapacitated for a week.” There was no emotion in his voice, rather a calm statement of fact.

      Ginny felt as though she would be sick at the thought of being trapped in a house,with this man, essentially powerless. He had proved two years ago that he was capable of murder, twho knew what else he was capable of. As these thoughts raced haphazardly through her mind, she remembered too late Snape’s skill at Legilimency.

      Snape recoiled the slightest bit before saying more quietly, “You will be in no danger from me while you are within these walls. Just because I am a Death Eater does not mean I take pleasure from rape.”

      Ginny was comforted only slightly by this statement. After all, Death Eaters in general, and this Death Eater in particular, weren’t exactly known for their truthfulness. She shifted slightly on the bed, but as she did so, her head pulsed once more with sharp pain, making her flinch.

      Snape’s sharp eyes darted to her before reaching for a green glass bottle on a nearby table and handing it to her. “Drink this. It will help with the pain.”

Ginny lifted one eyebrow incredulously, as if to say “You expect me to drink anything you give me?”

Correctly reading her reluctance, he sighed, “Miss Weasley, do use common sense! If I had wanted to poison you, I could have done so during the last three days you lay unconscious. Besides, do you really think me stupid enough to disobey the Dark Lord’s direct orders?”

      Grudgingly, Ginny realized that he was right. Although she hated Snape, she knew him to be very intelligent, and directly disobeying an order from Voldemort would indeed be the equivalent of suicide. Bracing herself, she poured the potion into her mouth, feeling a warm, tickling sensation as it made its was down her throat. A moment later, she could feel the pain in her head beginning to wane.

      Picking up his wand once more, the Snape said, “Liberas” under his breath, and she felt the invisible gag being removed from her mouth.

Ginny attempted to speak, but nothing more than “What th-.” came out, as she suddenly felt immensely tired, as though a soft, warm blanket was being pressed down over her mind, imploring her to just close her eyes and drift away to sleep. ‘He’s given me a sleeping potion!.’

she realized, angry at the thought of being unconscious and helpless once again.

For a few moments, Ginny fought the urge to sleep, but soon she realized it was inevitable. All she could do was concentrate all her energy on keeping her eyes open, not taking her eyes off her captor until it was absolutely necessary to do so.

Snape studied Ginny for a minute or two, his black eyes boring into hers, before he turned and strode out of the room, slamming the door behind him. Finally, Ginny allowed her eyes to close, sighing at the sensation of warmth and comfort induced by the potion even as doubts began to form in the rational part of her mind.

‘Why was he helping her? Why would he give her something to lessen her pain? Wouldn’t he want her as weak as possible for whatever Voldemort had planned?’

These were some of Ginny’s last conscious thoughts as she fell asleep once more, even more confused than when she had awoken.