A/N: Yes, another fic. I'm sorry, the plot bunnies are attacking me! I promise to update Not the Same, Never Again tommorow, and I'll probably update Kill You With a Kiss sometime this week so until then, amuse yourself with this! Also, if you're happy to finally have a fic set in Deathly Hallows, you can thank UnknownUnseenUnheard, he suggested that. Until then, I was going to set it in Order of the Phoenix. I'm glad I didn't, the plotline is sooo much better in Deathly Hallows. So, without furthur ado, sit back, and enjoy!

Forever Silenced

Chapter One

Harry shut the door to Umbridge's office with a barely audible click and pulled off his invisibility cloak. The decoy was a success. Umbridge's lackeys would never know someone had inflitrated their Mistress's office. Nor, hopefuly, would the toad herself.

Harry pulled a drawer open, no locket. Hmm...maybe in the cabinet across the room. Just as he was turning, the door was flung open. It was so sudden he didn't even have time to put on his invisibility cloak. He spun around and his heart sank. Umbridge stood in the doorway, looking shocked that he had dared invade her precious office.

"Albert?" she asked, closing the door and unsheating her wand, her toad-like eyes narrowed in suspicion. "What are you doing here?"

Knowing he couldn't talk his way out of this one, Harry drew his wand and threw a Stunning Spell. Umbridge ducked, the spell narrowly missing her. She popped back up, looking livid.

"You're not Albert, are you?" she snarled, sending an Immobulus towards him. He dodged easily, she really was a pathetic dueler, and sent a Bombarda at the desk next in front of her, hoping to distract her. She was flung backwards, crashing against the far wall. She looked up, furious. Then she smirked.

"INTRUDER!" she yelled, and Harry froze, expecting Hit-Wizards to come running through the door. There was a split second where he thought he'd have to run for it. Then ropes came out of nowhere, wrapping around him tightly and sending him to the floor, bound head to toe.

Umbridge picked herself off the floor and stalked over to him. She grabbed him by the hair and hoisted him into a chair, before spelling even more ropes on him. Harry struggled against the bonds half-heartedly, knowing it was useless. Umbridge crossed over to a large cabinet, opened it, and pulled out a crystal flask with a shimmering silver liquid in it.

"Antidote to the Polyjuice Potion," she said triumphantly, striding back over to him and forcing his mouth open. "Let's find out who you really are, shall we?"

Harry tried to spit it out, then throw it up. But it was too late. He felt his fake features melting away like candle wax, leaving his real face behind. Umbridge looked surprised for a moment, then she started grinning. Though he'd admit it to no-one, in that moment, Harry was terrified. Her smile was sadistic, almost in-human, and he fully expected her to burn him at the stake, or start throwing knives across the room at him.

Or even worse, the Cruciatus Curse.

And sure enough...

"I never did get to make you scream, did I, Mr. Potter?" she asked with a girlish giggle. Harry braced himself, mentally yelling that she would not get the satisfaction of hearing him scream.

"Crucio!" she screamed, and all of his resistance crumbled immidiatley as a thousand knives pierced him. He was screaming his throat raw, thrashing back and forth as much as the binds would allow, beating his head against the chair in a vain hope that he would go unconcious.

The pain lifted and Harry gasped in air, still trembling.

Why was no one coming? Surely his screams would have alerted someone, anyone. If Voldemort himself came in, Harry would go with him gladly, he was sure Voldemort would want to finish him off right away. Anything was better than being trapped here with this sadistic monster.

"That hurt, didn't it?" she asked sweetly, drinking in his pain. "Get used to it. This office has a silencing spell on the door, no ones coming."

Terror gripped Harry. She could make him scream as loud as she wanted, and no one would hear, no one would save him.

"CRUCIO!" Someone had shoved him in a pool of acid with spikes at the bottom and lit him on fire, everything was wrapped in mist, he didn't know his own name, he just wanted death to come and take him. Anything but this.

Again, the pain left him. He looked up at Umbridge, terrified, a plea in his eyes.

Please...don't do this to me...kill me if you must...but please...stop torturing me... He would never say the words aloud, but both knew he was thinking them.

She grinned maliciously, raising her wand. He tensed, screwing his eyes tight shut so he wouldn't see the scarlet beam of sheer agony rushing towards him.

"Cru-"

She stopped. Unbelieveably, she spared him. He tentatively opened one eye, then the other. Umbridge slowly lowered her wand, considering him.

"You, Mr. Potter," she murmured thoughtfully "have inflitrated the Ministry. Learned Ministry secrets. Can't have you spreading them to the world, now can I?"

She pulled something from her desk and Harry's heart almost stopped. He recognized it. Never seen it himself, but, in one of his, Ron, and Hermione's long and crazy conversations in Grimmauld Place, Umbridge had been brought up. Ron had mentioned the Blood Quill, and said that what Umbridge had done was foul, wrong, horrible, and a load of other things. Hermione had added in that yes, it was, but she could have done much, much worse.

She had then gone off on a spiel about various punishments for lying in the ancient times, several of which were quite painful-sounding, and had left the boys wondering if Hermione really did know too much. One of them had stood out to Harry in particular, the one that had sounded most painful of all.

The Tongue Tearer.

Which is what Umbridge had in her hand. And she looked more than ready to use it.

Umbridge stepped closer and closer to Harry as he struggled, more afraid then he had ever been in his entire life. He was not just thinking of the horrible agony this would bring, but also of the fact that, should Umbridge succeed, he would never speak again.

Ever.

"Scared?" she asked, bringing the needle-sharp pair of scissors slicing together, taunting him. He stared her down, hoping to at least make her squirm with guilt a bit. She merely laughed.

"Defiant, are we?" the pink-clothed sadist asked, inserting the device in between his lips and yanking on the clamps, forcing his jaw open.

He didn't answer, not that he could have anyway. His heart was pounding, and he knew the pain was coming in seconds. She giggled sweetly, and, with one final smirk, she brought the scissors together.

The pain was a thousand times worse than Harry ever could have imagined, like all the potency of the Cruciatus Curse was concentrated in his mouth. He was screaming in agony, horrible incoherent screams that were absorbed by the Silencing Charms. He was choking on his own blood, trying not to thrash around and make the pain worse, all the while hearing Umbridge's sadistic giggles.

It was over in seconds. Through a fog, Harry could see Umbridge removing the Tongue Tearer from his mouth, clamped firmly around his blood coated tongue. He whimpered, a small, choked sound. Umbridge smiled, reveling in his torment. She dropped the Tongue Tearer, and Harry's tongue, on her desk. She turned back, still smiling broadly, and unsheathed her wand.

"I am most curious to see how a lack of a tongue will affect your screams, Potter," she said, and before Harry even had time to brace himself, he was under the Cruciatus Curse again.

His screams were horrible, strangled cries that seemed to tell the world that he was voiceless. Mute. Easy to attack, unable to fight back due to his poor nonverbal casting. He was going to die here. In this pink room, covered with lace and flower petals. When he imagined dying, he had imagined going down with a fight, struck down by Voldemort.

Not like this. Never like this.

And then the door swung open. Had Umbridge's silencing spells failed, had someone broken through? He heard a gasp, heard the door slam, and someone yell out a spell. The agony left and he heard a thud as Umbridge hit the ground, stunned and bound in ropes. He was shocked for a moment, shocked that anyone in the Ministry would be on his side, and not immidiately join in on the torture. Shocked that, at last, the pain was over.

When he lifted his head to see who his savior was, he saw a short, blonde witch, looking at him in horror. Mafilda Hopkirk. Hermione's disguise.

"Merlin, Harry," she whispered, drawing her wand. Harry flinched slightly, before mentally shaking himself, this was Hermione. She wasn't going to hurt him.

She quickly cast a Diffindo, removing the binds, and helping him to his feet.

"What happened?"

Harry looked around for a sheet of parchment, a quill, anything he could use to communicate to Hermione what had happened.

"Harry?"

Harry glanced back at Hermione, took a shaky breath, then pointed at Umbridge's desk. He looked away, hearing her gasp as she saw the Tongue Tearer.

"Is that...oh Merlin..."

Harry nodded, still not looking at Hermione.

"I'll...go get Ron." She ran from the room, horror still etched on her face. Harry glanced over at Umbridge, and noticed something on her neck. Something shiny, gold, and glimmering. He reached out, taking the locket from around her neck. He stared at it for a moment.

The Horcrux.

This is what they had come here for.

What Harry had entered the office for.

What he had lost his voice for.

He put his head in his hands, tears flowing down his face. He would never speak. He was mute.

Forever.


Hermione was walking through the Ministry as fast as possible without drawing suspiscion to herself. She felt sick to her stomach and furious at Umbridge. She was also desprately trying to get the sound of Harry's strangled cries out of her head.

She was also furiously trying to remember if there was anyway to re-attach Harry's tongue. Probably not. The Toad would not have used something that could be undone. And that was the problem. What would they do if Harry couldn't be cured? He would never be able to talk again. Hermione closed her eyes for a moment, remembering the sound of Harry's voice as he joked around with her and Ron, or gave a stirring speech in a DA meeting.

Much as Harry said he wanted to be an Auror, Hermione could always tell he would end up as a teacher. It was the way he spoke in the DA, passion lighting up his face. He was doing what he loved. Now he would never get the chance.

She, Ron, and Harry would have to learn Sign Language. As soon as they got back to Grimmauld Place, she'd buy a book on the subject. And she'd have to work with Harry on nonverbal casting. Until he mastered it, he'd have to stay in the house. He's be defenseless if a Death Eater caught him.

That was what Hermione did when anything big happened. Make plans, be logical. Put her own feelings aside. Though granted, she had never dealt with something to this degree. What was one supposed to do when their friend lost his tongue? Not just lost it, but had it ripped out of their mouth by a midevil torture device?

Still, she planned. She already had one for getting the three of them out of there. She just hoped it worked. The first order of buisness, find Ron.

"OW!"

Looks like she found him. Ran right into him, literally.

"I'm so sorry Mr. Cattermole," she said, helping him to his feet.

"That's quite alright," he said, playing the part of nothing more than a co-worker that barely spoke to her.

"Madame Umbridge wants to see the both of us in her office," said Hermione, putting her plan into action. "There's a Mudblood prisoner she needs escorted somewhere. Don't know why she picked us, but I'm not about to question her. Come on."

It hurt her to say Mudblood. But she had to stay in character. You know what they say about walls having ears. In this case it wouldn't hurt to take that saying literally.

"Do you think it's a trap?" he hissed as the two headed back. She shook her head, keeping her eyes fixed firmly forward.

He frowned, but didn't press the matter. They reached the room with hundreds of people printing out flyers. Hermione ignored their stares, walking right up to Umbridge's door, knocking, and pretending to hear a call of 'come in.' She entered, dragging Ron behind her, and quickly shut the door.

"Bloody hell," he gasped, taking in Umbridge, tied up on the floor and Harry, shaking and sobbing. He didn't even ask Hermione any questions before running over to Harry. "What happened to you?"

"There's no time," hissed Hermione casting a quick glamor over Harry and transfiguring his clothes into rags.

"What are you doing?" asked Ron, still staring at Harry. Harry gave her a bewildered look, clearly wanting to ask the same question. He was still crying and, though she felt awful thinking it, it would help in the plan. Ron, unobservant as he was, didn't notice the Tongue Tearer sitting on Umbridge's desk. Nor did he seem to notice that Harry couldn't speak. Hermione was relieved, it'd be so much easier to get out of here if Ron didn't break down into a rant and/or start cursing Umbridge.

Much as she wanted to do so herself, there was no time.

"We're pretending Harry's a Muggleborn prisoner," she hissed, transfiguring some lace into chains, and shackeling Harry's hands together. "It's the only thing I can think of that'll work."

"Right," said Ron, grabbing a chain, leading Harry as if on a leash. Hermione grabbed the other.

"Follow my lead," she said. Before leaving the office, she bent down, grabbed Umbridge's wand, and snapped it in two.

"Enjoy your meaningless life, bitch," she hissed, kicking her in the head. Ron looked at her in awe, probably because she swore, before schooling his face into one of disgust. She did the same. It wasn't hard. She simply poured all of her hatred of the Toad into her face, before opening the door and hauling Harry out.

It was almost too easy. Harry played the part of the beaten-down prisoner well, though Hermione was worried that it wasn't just acting. It hurt her to treat Harry this way, hauling him along like a dog, kicking him, and spewing profanities and insults at him. But it was far, far better than being caught by the Ministry. Especially since she had seen what they were capable of. The evidence was right there in front of her, being pulled along by a chain, broken, mute, and hopeless.

If there was ever anything to shatter ones faith in humanity, it was this.

So many people were hauling along prisoners, they were hardly spared a second glance. Many people, who looked like they'd normally be sitting behind desks, were helping commit this heinous crime, this genocide.

Who knew where the Muggleborns were going? Some sort of Concentration Camp? It wouldn't surprise her. The parallels between this 'Muggleborn Registration Comission' and the Holocaust...it was uncanny.

"Same place as usual?" asked a guard, holding out a Portkey and looking at Harry in contempt.

"No. Diagon Alley. Madame Umbridge wants to show people what their fate will be if they shelter scum," Hermione snarled, clouting Harry over the head.

"No better then the Mudbloods themselves, if you ask me," the guard replied, handing her a different Portkey. "Best to make an example of them, yes?"

"I couldn't agree more," Hermione lied, taking the Portkey. Instantly, she felt a tug behind her navel, and they were gone.

The instant they landed in Diagon Alley, she turned on her foot and pulled the three of them into darkness. They landed on the doorstep of Grimmauld Place and dashed in. It seemed like the Death Eaters watching the place were on break. A piece of luck, for once.

As they walked into Grimmauld Place, Harry still chained up and miserable, Hermione worried about what the future would bring.

It seemed as if things had taken a turn for the worse.


A/N: Yes, the Tongue Tearer is an actual device used in Midevil Times. I believe it was China, but I could be wrong. And yes, they aren't going to wander aimlessly in a tent in this fic, sorry if that's what you wanted. I figured that if I took Harry's voice, the least I could do is let them stay in the house.
Review if you can. If you don't have time to review, favorite the story so I at least know you like it!
Until next time!
-Winged Quill