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Harry gave a slight groan as he adjusted his position on the cold, stone floor. His hands were bound to the wall; his wrists ached along with the rest of his battered body. The results of him defying the death eaters. It was his own fault he was even here, he thought bitterly, he shouldn't have been stupid enough to get captured. As loath as he was to let his defenses down, his weary body couldn't help but drift into a restless sleep.
He was abruptly wakened by someone calling his name. Harry started and glanced at the person on the other side of the bars. "Remus," Harry tried to call, but it came out a whisper. He was so relieved he had to resist tears.
Lupin cast a spell on the prison, and the wards broke. It wasn't longer before he had entered Harry's cell and was kneeling by his side. "We have to hurry," he said in a low, urgent voice, "There isn't much more time." He unchained Harry and then helped him to his feet. "Here, drink this," he ordered, handing Harry a vial of a clear liquid. Harry quickly drank it and his pains were immediately gone. Lupin took a bottle cap out of his pocket and Harry touched it without hesitation. He felt the familiar tug of a portkey and soon he was standing outside Hogwarts.
He finally relaxed, he was free again. He smiled widely as Ron and Hermione rushed from the castle ecstatic to see their friend. He opened his arms to embrace them and then...
He woke up. He looked around his dark cell and he felt the pain of tarnished hope. It had just been a dream. His green eyes filled with tears against his will, and he cried alone.
He couldn't remember falling asleep, but the sudden crash of a metal door made him jump.
"Let me go you bastards!" Harry's eyes widened at the familiar voice. A gruff voice cast crucio, and the boy screamed. He heard the clink of chains in the adjacent cell and soon the retreating steps of death eaters.
Harry struggled to sit further up. "Ron!" he tried to yell to his friend.
There was a brief pause. "Harry?" a soft voice questioned.
Harry smiled through tears. "Ron you idiot, what are you doing here?"
There was a quiet laugh, "There was a raid at Hogsmeade, I don't know why they captured me instead of just killing me." Ron paused for a moment before hesitantly asking, "Is that really you Harry? We thought you were dead for sure."
Harry wished they could see each other. "Yea, I'm still alive. Though I don't know why."
"As long as we're together mate, we can find a way out of here!" the tone in the redhead's voice had brightened considerably. Harry felt hope returning to him too.
"Yea, we'll find a way."
They considered and tossed out plan after plan. They were afraid Voldemort was somehow listening, but they didn't see anyway to avoid that risk. What did they have to lose anyway?
They were in the middle of one planning session when the dungeon door burst open. Harry heard footsteps, it sounded like there was at least two people. He leaned forward to try and see, but they stopped before they reached his cell. Harry tried to fight the rising panic. They had stopped at Ron's cell.
"Our master has decided that you've outlived your purpose," a deep voice uttered, and Harry heard the door of Ron's cell open.
The other one had a soft, elegant voice that didn't suit the dark spell he uttered. Harry wasn't sure what spell it was, all he could hear was Ron's screams. He was screaming madly and Harry struggled desperately to get out of the chains. Eventually the screaming changed to choked gurgles. He's drowning on his own blood, Harry realized with horror.
"RON!" he screamed as he thrashed in his chains. "RON!" He heard another scream and tried to jump up. He tripped and fell against the wall.
He hit his head and then... the sounds stopped. Harry paused, listening intently. He didn't hear anything. Not Ron, not the death eaters. There was no one there. Harry's breathing quickened. Had that just happened? Where was Ron? He tried to quell the rising panic. Had that just happened?
He didn't know. Once again he surrendered to tears.
Harry had been sitting listlessly against the wall. His once bright eyes were dim. They didn't even look up as someone approached his cell.
"Potter," a commanding voice addressed him, "Look at me when I address you."
Harry obeyed and looked up at Voldemort. He looks smug, Harry noted without feeling. And indeed the dark lord was looking triumphant. "Come here," the dark wizard commanded, and Harry's chains released him. He stood up and walked carefully to his captor. Voldemort grabbed his arm and they apparated.
Harry stood disoriented for a moment and then looked up. His heart stopped and something in him shattered.
Hogwarts was in flames. Every tower, every visible portion was completely engulfed in flames that rose impossibly high into the sky. The wind changed and Harry could hear screams.
"They're all inside," he head a voice hiss next to his ear, "All the students and all the teachers are dying as we speak. And you're standing here helpless." Harry didn't even register the other's words. All he could see was his home, the place he loved more than anything, being destroyed. He didn't realize when he fell to his knees, unable to stand any longer. He didn't even feel Voldemort's pale, bony hand rest on his shoulder and push him forward.
Harry fell into his cell. Had that been real? He couldn't muster the energy to care anymore. He rested his head against the wall and prayed for oblivion.
Against his will he woke up again. He looked around with apathetic eyes. The Hogwarts infirmary. What an unoriginal illusion.
"Harry!" a bushy haired woman rushed into his arms. He didn't respond to her embrace. He didn't even feel anything as Ron walked into the room. His dead best friend smiled at him. There were tears in his eyes.
"We didn't think we'd find you alive," he choked out, "Snape and Lupin got you out."
Harry stared dispassionately as visitors came in and out of his room. Dumbledore finally declared that Harry was still exhausted from his ordeal and promptly ushered everyone out. Harry sat on his bed alone.
He waited until he was sure everyone had left before he got out of his bed. He stumbled over to the supply cabinets where he swiftly opened the doors, intently searching for something. He finally found what he was searching for. He picked up the bottle and smashed it on the ground. Without hesitating he picked up a shard of glass and slit his wrist.
He watched his blood flow from his wrist. He couldn't take anymore illusions. He had to escape this fake world. He sank to the floor as darkness consumed him. He was already dead when Madame Pomfrey came to investigate the crashing sound. He couldn't hear her scream.
Voldemort chuckled against his wine glass as he felt Harry's life force disappear. The only way to defeat an enemy is to break them completely. He laughed again and took a sip of wine.
I hope that didn't confuse anyone. I know its rushed. I'm sorry. I just wanted to write something edgy, I didn't want it to be long.
Anyway, please review and tell me what you think.