Title: Untitled

Author: Namrata

She was tied to the chair and her wrists were cut and her lips were bleeding and her throat ached for the water that he had placed in front of her, but out of her reach.

"Just tell me," he said softly, bending down so that he was level with her ear. "Tell me where Potter is."

She said nothing. She had said nothing since the damn Death Eaters had brought her in...oh, four days, eighteen hours and forty six minutes ago. She knew exactly how long they had kept her in the dank underground tunnel. She knew exactly who had tied her to the chair and who had hit her across the face and who had performed a multitude of curses. She remembered every curse.

And though she fought to keep her hopes up, it looked as though the last thing she'd remember would be the face of her killer.

He picked up the glass of water and dipped his finger in it. Walking back to her, he traced the outline of her lips gently and she almost died at the feeling of moisture on her skin after what seemed like an eternity.

"I'll give you the whole glass," he coaxed. "Just talk."

She looked back at him sullenly, and he looked at the disheveled brown hair and defiant brown eyes of his captive. She didn't understand...but he couldn't blame her. She didn't know. And there were people who were always watching...

"If I give you a sip of water now," he said, leaning over her, "Will you talk?"

Something undefinable sparked in her eyes, and she stared mutely at him before nodding.

He placed a finger delicately under her chin (even though he knew those who were watching would want him to be rough) and gently tilted her head back (he'd hear about it for not bruising her at least a little), and held the glass of water up to her lips, watching as she sipped eagerly.

"Now, Granger," he said, stepping back to place the glass back on the small folding table. "Talk."

She motioned him forward with her chin, and he walked over to her, bending so that he was face to face with her.

"Talk, Granger," he said harshly.

She spit the water into his face, and said in a voice that was both tired and strong: "Fuck you, Zabini."

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