❝She wore her scars as her best attire, a stunning dress of hellfire.❞
In a world where children are orphaned by dark wizards and destinies are bestowed upon the most unlikely of people, Lily Potter II must choose between what is good and what is ri...
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THE FIRST NIGHT was a quiet one – well, as quiet as a torture chamber could be. Lily Potter was thrown into the largest room of all; it had begrimed stone walls damp with leaky pipe water and a dirt floor stained with dried blood and another substance Lily had rather not take a closer look at.
She had the unfortunate privilege of being escorted to her new room by the Dark Lord himself. With one cold hand gripping her bicep, cutting off most blood circulation, he pulled her down a flight of stairs and dragged her towards the last door where no one would be able to head her screams. A sickening feeling rooted itself right in her stomach as she heard the screams and shrieks of other tortured prisoners.
"Love will always be your weakness, Lily Potter." and with a wicked smile, he shoved her into the room and shut the door with a loud slam, followed by many incantations to keep the door shut.
Hugging herself, Lily pushed her hair behind her ears and took a look around the mucky room – carefully avoiding the oddly colored spots in the dirt. Two small, barred windows at the very top of the wall opposite the door allowed a stream of daylight in, meaning wherever there were, they weren't in the center of the building. Despite the open-bar windows, the room stunk of stale air and coppery blood. To the far corner, a small barter cell was shut in the shadows.
She didn't seem to care about her situation in the least. The look on Fred's face as she walked away from him, as she was taken away....he had George back now but...would he be enough? He found out he had an unborn child on the same day the love of his life and his unborn child were ripped away from him. And what if Harry? Would he go to stupid, desperate lengths to get her back? No, thought Lily, then none of this would be worth it.
She began to pace, shoving her fingers into her ears in a weak attempt to muffle the sounds emanating from the rooms down and across the hall. There must've been a dozen of them, each one occupied, each one holding some poor soul. The pleading screams of the souls about to be tortured, the agonizing shrieks of those just on the edge, the wailing sobs of women being forced into prurient acts and the cries as they witnessed Death claiming lives before their very eyes....Lily ran to a corner and gave up what little she had in her stomach. She wretched and dry heaved until her stomach settle and she turned her back to the sick.
"Potter?"
Lily froze and squinted into the darkness of the cell. In the shadows, a sloven figure sat upright against the wall and drew in a ragged breath. Despite the darkness and the putrid smell brought tears to her eyes, she could recognize that platinum blonde hair anywhere. Draco Malfoy dragged himself across the floor and pressed his face up to the bars, staring miraculously at her through one eye as the other was swollen shut.
"Draco?" she dropped to her knees at the other side of the bars and grabbed his face to examine his swollen eye and cut lip.
"Fuck, Potter," he exclaimed through a swollen mouth, "What did you get yourself into?"
