An: Not 100% sure where this came from but here it is.
I personally believe that Aurors are forced to go and interact with the muggle world and learn their ways and many people know of muggles and how they do things because of the second world war forcing them to work with muggles having them see tanks with their own eyes. But Arthur was not an auror and thus did not know of anything.

The man slowly and gracefully walked around the captive. He looked straight into the eyes of the person chained to the chair and asked with a light tone.

"Harry, oh dear Harry. Are you ready to talk yet?"

Harry spit blood on his shoes as his answer. The man raised an eyebrow as he looked down at his captive, Harry Potter, who sat chained to a rusty metal chair.

"Always being so disrespectful to your betters. I do believe that you will crack soon enough."

The man turned and walked out of the door. Soon the two people entered the room, they were his personal torturers. Apparently, even his capture by the enemy could not get rid of his fame. Yet he did not have more time to contemplate as he heard one whisper one of the unforgivables.

"Crucio"

His screams would have been heard if the silencing charms that littered the room stop the sound. Yet it still bounced from one dark stone wall to the next. The torture stopped, but just for a moment. They did not want him vegetative or in a coma. They wanted his knowledge. The torture just got more inventive from there.

*Break*

Harry grinned quietly as his bobby pin finally clicked open the lock. Massaging his sore and slightly bloodied arms he stood up. From where he stood he made his way as quietly as he could to the door. It would take him twenty minutes to break that lock, thankfully his personal torturers were asleep at this time. When the lock finally opened up he almost gave a small shout of triumph but held himself. In silence, he opened the door and stepped out. Closing the door he looked out across the corridor. The corridor was green with mahogany wood. It held doors all along it. He hid in the shadows as he began walking As he crept up along the wall he noticed plaques above the simply said detainees. He shuddered Merlin who knew what went on in there. His torturers so kindly told him that everyone that had been held had their own torture methods.

He put his hands on a door handle but hesitated. What could he do? He owned no wand and neither did the other prisoners. They would be a burden that would get him killed. He slowly removed his hand from the door handle. The only thing that he could do was come back with backup and to do that would need him escaping. Sighing he continued on to the other side of the corridor where a door was located. Opening the door just a crack he looked around. No people there. Opening the door he slid out from the corridor and took in the room. Furnished with expensive wood and silver colours it looked like a normal room. It was brightly lit and that would be a problem. He still kept to the walls even if the light would expose him it was better then walking in the open.

A staircase on the other side of the wall had him wanting to explore but he knew that he needed to get down if he wanted to escape from that godforsaken place. Sneaking down the stairs he checked as best as he could for enemies but found none. Once he found his way down a floor he began to look around to see if he could find his wand before escaping. he Quietly began slipping room from room but found nothing. He found it strange to have so many empty rooms but he felt that perhaps going and asking was not the best course of action. But a thing that he did find was the window that he looked down from. It was a long bit and he would have to walk down a few floors to reach where he could get out without breaking his bones. It made him apprehensive but trudged as quietly as he could downwards. Portraits littered the hallways and rooms, all of them not moving. Deciding it was best not to question how the madman liked to decorate his house, manor, thing.

As he walked down another stone staircase that reminded him so much of Hogwart's own staircases he began noticing the fact that he had not seen a single person and it was light outside. It was morning... and when he listens close he heard footsteps. Many footsteps, Too many to just be a normal morning.

He froze for almost four seconds before auror training kicked in and made him rush through as fast as possible while keeping it quiet should his incredible luck strike again and having them not notice his disappearance. As he ran down the wooden staircase, through a room and up to the window. Looking down he finally thought it was the best he could do. It may just sprain his bones but it was worth the risk. Opening the window he began to make himself ready to do what he was going to do. Yet a voice stopped him

"Harry oh Harry. Is my fine abode not enough for you? Have I not treated you well during your stay? And most of all did you really believe I would not notice you trying to leave?" was said in a normal tone. Like it was just a normal conversation.

As Harry spun around to face The Man as he called him in his head. The Man's red and black cloak stood out from the blue and green room. The Man had his wand out and pointed at Harry.

"Tut Tut Harry. Not answering questions even now? Perhaps this might change how you sing your tunes."

Harry saw the man take out a small vial holding a clear liquid. Veritaserum most likely. His last chance at escape had left him. With a small noise of misery coming from Harry and a small swish of the wand followed by a red light, Harry was no longer conscious.

*Break*

Ron kicked down the door as the leader gave him the go ahead. Several teams of Aurors were breaking and entering a building to where they have finally tracked Harry Potter. The other Aurors began to swarm into the place. Scanning each room for enemies or traps before rushing out. Their first priority was to find Harry.

They had almost searched for an hour and the odds were looking grim. Nothing dark had been found, No enemies had been found nor had a prisoner been found. A shout from the entrance room alerted him that something had been found. Rushing into the room with the others he felt a gasp leave him along with most of his air. There he was dead. Harry Potter was dead. A grin of a cracked person could still be found on his face. Bloodied with cuts all along the body. He fell to his knees in front of him as the other Aurors stood in stoic silence.

"No...no...noNoNoNONO!"

Ron sobbed brokenly while hugging his knees trying to comfort himself.

A nameless auror levitated the body as the others began to leave the room.

The world mourned a lost hero.

Harry Potter finally found the peace that he so longed after while he was a child. Yet he unwillingly left a pregnant widow and the friends that he made along his years of life. it was too late to consider death a blessing that would be the escape of his bleak homelife yet too early to have lived properly and enjoyed the sunrise after the darkest dusk that had been his life.

An:
I know that I have been procrastinating about writing and I could pull up some excuse about having writer's block yet it was pure laziness and not wanting to only write the Light The Fire series.
Reviews make me happy!
Flames are okay as long as they have constructive criticism.
Also, this bit is less checked than my other stories because of again of the laziness