A/N: Alright! This is a three-shot (I hope) that came to me while I was experiencing writers block for As we would have. No it will not take over. Warning: disgusting amounts of angst.
Shatter Me: Chapter 1: Breaking
He stared at the wall. That's all he did now. He didn't even scream. When his mind was searched there was nothing but fear. Nothing coherent, no actual thought or memory. He was gone. Broken. And it had all started that night. When he had killed them.
Broken.
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"Very good, Potter. Now turn around, nice and slowly, and give that to me."
He was hit with a sudden wave of pain, as though his mind was trying to force him to hand it over. At the same time he was hit with a very strong imperio by Bellatrix. The combined force almost crushed his mind. And then he didn't know who he was- why he was not handing it over- his body seemed out of his control he watched as his hand reached out and placed the sphere in Malfoy's hand. His mouth worked by itself as the words came in his voice.
"That worked rather well don't you think? I mean they never once suspected…" he laughed. The death eaters laughed with him.
"I mean it look at their faces! It almost makes up for having to put up with their whining…"
"Harry I know that isn't you. You've fought him before you can do it again! Please Harry I have faith in you." Hermione said.
"Yea mate come on! Kick them out of your mind." Ron added.
"He can't do it. The nargles told me. It isn't just an imperius. Do try not to break later Harry. If you got through it might make our deaths worth it…" Luna piped up.
"What? Death? No Luna I think that you're a little confused. Harry wouldn't kill us. Come on Harry fight th…" Ginny's words trailed of as she glimpsed Harry's eyes. They gleamed red.
"You're right little weasel. He wouldn't. I would. Avada Kedavra!" Harry's voice said. "Bellatrix you have the honor of torturing Longbottom. Collect the whole set. But… nobody touch the blond one. Take her back."
"Fight them Harry. I know you can." Hermione whispered, tears in her eyes.
'I'm trying' Harry thought, desperately trying to break his mind free before anything else happened. He mentally clawed at the imperius and finally it fell away. But not before his mouth moved again.
"Avada Kedavra." Ron. "Avada Kedavra." Hermione. "Now move! The Order is coming… and stupefy me."
"Yes my lord. Stupefy."
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Lord Voldemort walked boldly into Harry's cell. He was flanked with two death eaters, which seemed pretty unnecessary, considering that Harry was chained to a wall, wandless and bleeding. But Voldemort had been like that ever since he heard the prophecy. Not that he'd told Harry what it said. It wasn't like the prophecy concerned Harry at all! The fact that Harry was so delirious made him laugh at his tiny use of sarcasm.
"What? Why is he laughing? What happened? Burn him!" Voldemort, paranoid as usual, hissed. That was all he ever did. Hiss. It was like he was a robot. Harry giggled again as the flesh of his foot melted away. Paranoid Volderoid. Ha-Ha. Then the pain signals final made their sluggish way to his brain and he had to remind himself to scream. There the fear signals had reached too! Fear.
"Much better." Voldemort said in a satisfied way.
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"I'm here to tell you the contents of the prophecy and to make an offer, which may save your pathetic life." Voldemort said one day when he came down. And he began to recite.
"The one with the power to vanquish the dark lord approaches. Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies. And the dark lord shall mark him as his equal, but he shall have power the dark lord knows not. And either must die at the hands of the other for neither can live while the other survives. The one with the power to vanquish the dark lord shall be born as the seventh month dies."
"Now I give you a choice. Break within the year, or I shall kill you as the prophecy dictates I should.
Harry was confused for a moment and then felt slightly betrayed. Dumbledore had to know! And yet he hadn't informed Harry. Some of Harry's resolve fell away right then. He had put his faith into Dumbledore, and been betrayed. Now he would no longer hold out to protect Dumbledore. He was running out of people to protect. He was weakening.
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He was afraid even before Voldemort started down the hallway. The noise of people walking down to the dungeon echoed, and noise meant pain. Pain and fear. That was all his life had become. Oh and guilt. Almost 7 months of hearing that he could have pushed off the curse, that he just hadn't tried hard enough, that he had wanted to kill them had taken its toll.
Sometimes there was fear even when he heard no noise. Because that just meant they were coming soon.
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"How is he still alive?" he remembered hearing one of the new guards ask Macnair in amazement. "I checked the amount of blood in his body today and there is virtually nothing!"
"Magic." Macnair had answered, and they both cracked up laughing. Inside his cell, Harry giggled, and they immediately sent someone in to check one him. Presumable because it had sound like his lungs were collapsing when he giggled.
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Bella came down once. Harry huddled against the wall he was chained to as best he could with the chains so tight he couldn't sit. He felt a blinding striking panic in his gut, some animalistic instinct that he needed to get out right then. He felt like a caged, once powerful, but now helpless tiger. And then he saw the body floating behind her. Sandy-brown hair- amber eyes- shabby clothes- oh no. Moony. Someone else he no longer needed to protect. Like in that muggle song. Another one bits the dust.
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Fear. They brought another body down a few weeks later. He saw it was Tonks. He didn't care much. He was too afraid to care about others. Then again a couple weeks later- little did Harry know it, but it was reaching close to a year- they brought down McGonagall. He didn't recognize her. He didn't understand speech when they tried to tell him who it was. He just felt pure, true terror. When one of them reached for his wand to levitate McGonagall back out, Harry cried out in fear. No words- he just screamed an unadulterated sound that came from nature.
The death eaters in the room glanced at each other and then they ran up and out of the dungeon to tell their lord the good news. Great news. They had done it.
They had broken Harry Potter.
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They moved him to a big spacious room, with a beautiful bed. They healed him and gave him blood-replenishing potions. He didn't notice. He didn't notice much anymore.
He stared at the wall. That's all he did now. He didn't even scream. When his mind was searched there was nothing but fear. Nothing coherent, no actual thought or memory. He was gone. Broken. And it had all started that night. When he had killed them.
Broken.