Title: Soldier
Author: Sybil
Credits: Harry Potter, all related characters and ideas are property of J.K. Rowling. Mahogany belongs to me.
Notes: Been awhile, hasn't it? Aaand the lunatic story continues.

Her senses were overwhelmed by the chaotic whirlwind of penetrating noise as her head smashed against the marble floor. Rolling onto her back behind the stone column, she blinked slowly, trying to subdue the hurricane of colors that obscured her vision. Like a biting rain, dust and plaster began to fall down onto her scarred skin. Mahogany groaned, wishing bitterly to die quickly at the hand of some merciless Death Eater. She was quite sure that no one missed her, they all scuttled off and left her to fight Dolohov alone.

Thinking of the bastard, Mahogany wondered where Dolohov was. She had not seen where he disappeared to when the wall exploded outward. If he was not going to make her just one more glass orb on the mantlepiece, she hoped he was killing whoever was emitting that unearthly, anguished scream.

Her eyes fluttered open, only to be greeted by pitch black. A low groan echoed throughout the chamber, and Mahogany was slightly surprised to find that it came from her own sore throat. Stretching out her fingers, she felt something sticky lying on cold stone and jerked her hand away.

The darkness left Mahogany's current situation up to her vivid imagination, and she let out another small moan. With her luck, there was a pile of grimy limbs being picked over by rats in the corner, and she was lying in a pool of her own blood in a medieval castle waiting to be executed in a most horrible and drawn-out fashion-

A torch flared to life on the opposing wall, illuminating a dry, stone chamber and two imposing figures that stared at the crumpled heap on the floor. Mahogany raised her head slightly, blinking at the sudden light wearily. Through the bars of the cage, one of the figures nudged her harshly with a steel-toed boot. Mahogany just moaned and propped herself up on one arm.

"Wake up, dearie." The grating, familiar laugh that followed was like nails on a blackboard. Mahogany cringed and glared at Bellatrix through black eyes. Bellatrix's companion, Luna, regarded the captive woman blankly, and send shivers down her spine. She may not be in a medieval torture chamber, but her execution was certainly going to hurt.

Backing away from the Death Eaters, she struggled to her feet. "What the bloody hell do you want?" As far as questions go, Mahogany thought hers a rather stupid one. Naturally, she was going to be pressed for information, then killed.

Luna's sharp teeth glinted in the light as she smiled. "The Dark Lord chose you..." She sounded oddly distant, her voice scratchy, with only a hint of the old musical quality. Mahogany regarded her with muted horror, before lunging at the bars of her cage, attempting to grab Luna.

All she recieved for her attempt was a painful shock from the bars that sent her flying onto her ass again. She was barely aware of her own actions, of anything besides the pain coursing through every vein in her weak body. Something self-destructive and homicidal was taking control, that was obvious by now. Frustrated tears strained to spill down Mahogany's dirty cheeks.

"Interesting. Luna here wasn't half as amusing as you are." Draco chuckled coldly, striding down the stairs to the three women. This was entertainment.

"I will kill you!" Her voice rose shrilly in anger, and the look on Mahogany's face was one of pure desperation. She had come to a sickening realization: she was becoming Luna. Here, in this prison, she would slowly rot away, leaving nothing but a heartless shell that murdered on command. Her stomach twisted into a knot. This was the path to hell, and she was skipping merrily down it.

With a scream that echoed throughout the stone chamber, she launched herself upward and grabbed onto the bars of her cell. The electricity sped through her body, causing her to writhe in agony. Still, Mahogany held on, hoping that the power would kill her. This pain was nothing but necessary. Death was a dream, there was no will in her to live in slavery. Even returning to the world had no allure, the joys of being in the Order of Phoenix had lost their luster the second she stepped into Grimmauld Place.

A jet of purple light smacked her in the chest, dropping her to the ground in a heap. Slowly, Bellatrix lowered her wand and pushed the captive away from the bars with her foot. Mahogany's head rolled towards the heavens, mouth open slightly in silent cry.

With her aching head off the floor, she could make out dim shapes up ahead through the screen of dust. The words formed by their frantic voices could not penetrate the low throbbing within her own ears, and Mahogany moved closer. Her fingers tightened their grasp on her wand as she squinted in the dim light through bruised eyes. Shaking her head, she could pick out pieces of the dialogue now.

"Harry!"
"....that way!"
"Ava-"
"NO!"

She broke into a limping run, hobbling clumsily through the long chamber, pushing through a grey cloud. To her side, she dimly spotted a tall, black-cloaked figure. Long ago, the Order had decided against black robes in combat, hoping to avoid accidents. Without thinking, Mahogany pointed her wand and shouted the first thing that sprang to mind. "Stupefy!"

Predictably, her aim was off. A red shot hit the pillar next to the Death Eater, sending chunks of marble flying outwards like shrapnel. A scream sounded, a body hit the floor, and the Death Eater - Dolohov - whirled on the wounded soldier, pointing his wand.

A blast of rushing air and a brilliant white light enveloped the scene, clearing the dust and illuminating everything in a burst of clarity. It was enough to send Mahogany down to have another conversation consisting of four letter words with the floor again. Shouts and screams sounded, and a jet of purple narrowly missed Mahogany's head.

Propping herself up on the better arm, she was greeted by an unlikely vision. She was deathly pale, her stark white skin standing out against the dark robes like the moon on a black night. Only her blank, wide blue eyes offered a splash of color. Without emotion, Luna looked down upon the now lifeless body of Remus Lupin. The dark blood trickling from a blunt wound on his head contrasted with the muted colors of his shell.

There was no time for mourning. She rolled to the side and shoved herself off the floor, in a painful effort to preserve her own life. On her feet, Mahogany pointed her wand at Dolohov's smirking face. The soft, beaten cry that came from her mouth was heard by no one.

The streak of purple light left a deep gash on Draco's pale cheek. Mahogany watched stoically as his eyes rolled up, his muscles went limp and he collapsed on the stone floor. A nasty laugh rose up from the corner, and Bellatrix showed her dirty teeth to Mahogany in a creepy grin.

She had lost track of the time she had been the Death Eaters' abode. Anything before the first day of mind-numbing torture was as hazy as a dream, and about as easy to return to. After that, her mind recalled nothing but excruciating pain that had threatened to tear her apart, although the deep scars marking her body shed some light on to past events.

"The Dark Lord will be very pleased, yes he will." Bellatrix chattered, her high-pitched voice fading in and out of Mahogany's consciousness. Idly, Mahogany glanced down on the stirring Draco, and a tiny smile flitted across her face. Their fight had felt good as it cleared her head of the endless, squabbling noise that had persisted for weeks. How she hated that noise. It was as if someone was speaking to her, but she would not listen.