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A Lonely String

Prologue: Unleashed

By Gaerdir

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"You only exchange the shackles on your body for shackles on your mind."

– The Book of Regret

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September 2, 2003

Malfoy Manor

Lucius Malfoy awoke in the middle of the night, his peaceful repose disturbed by some sixth sense, niggling at the edges of his troubled mind. He glanced at his lovely wife, made even more beautiful with the worries of the day non-existent, smoothing out the lines in her face.

He sighed. The game of politics and blood superiority had dealt a heavy blow to the dream of the lifestyle they hoped to live with their son. Now, all that occupied them was staying alive in the murky of water of the Death Eater forces, and trying to keep their naïve son away from the whole mess. The Dark Lord was like a whirlpool; once you get sucked into his little games of pleasure, it was hard to escape without drawing immediate attention.

The blonde-haired Death Eater turned to get off the bed, his feet slipping into worn silky night slippers as he got up, ready to go check on the state of his 'precious prisoners', and to make sure his sister-in-law wasn't causing a mayhem again.

A few moments later, he stepped out of his walk-in wardrobe, clad in his usual day attire, complete with the polished yew cane with a silver dragon head instilled at the top. He was greeted by the pleasing form of his half-asleep wife, who was silently staring at him, and imploring him to come to bed.

He shook his head silently, and held up both hands, telling her he would return in ten minutes, at most. She rolled her eyes, pouted in a way that got his blood racing, and then shrugged and turned away. Lucius sighed again, before stepping out of the room, his boots quietly clicking against the hardwood floor, along with the soft thump of his cane.

He checked his sister-in-law's room first, barely managing to disable the protective wards she had added around it. A Flesh-Eating curse flew by him as he entered the room, and he thought for a moment that Bellatrix Lestrange was within, waiting for him like a predator of the night, or like a spider that had entangled a fly in its web.

But she wasn't. Which meant only one thing.

She was downstairs, playing with the prisoners.

Lucius sighed, and pinched his nose, his eyes shut.

Was he the only one with any sense in this house?

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Lucius walked slowly down the marble stairs of his home, trying to not wake any other 'guests' as he made his way down to the foyer of his mansion, cursing Bellatrix the whole way. He strode across to another door, into a dark passageway, his wand, tip alight, held out in front of him, projecting an invisible and irresistible force against the oppressive darkness that surrounded him. He clambered down a steep flight of stairs. At the bottom was a heavy door. Lucius opened it with a tap of his wand, and stepped into the magically enlarged space, closing the door with a soft whump behind him.

He raised his wand higher, and began to walk slowly down the narrow corridor, looking for signs that a cell had been opened and a silencing ward had been set up. Lucius ignored the grubby hands reaching out to him with fingernails jagged and broken from hours of scratching the walls that imprisoned them. Lucius sighed as he came to the inevitable conclusion… Bellatrix had gone directly to the prisoners that the Dark Lord had told them to break. He hurried down the corridor, deciding to bring his sister-in-law to her senses before she caused some irreversible damage.

Bellatrix was swiping a blade clean of blood as Lucius rushed in.

"Bella, what the hell d'you think you're doing?" Lucius all but shouted.

"Cleaning up the trash! Since we can't change her blood…" She looked with disgust at the silent form on the ground before her. "I'm just trying to clean everything else up."

"You…?" It was then that Lucius paused and looked closer at the prisoner. Her blood? Chills raced down his spine.

It was the Mudblood… Granger. But all her hair had been shaved off, and her earrings seemed to have been roughly ripped out, leaving bleeding gashes. Her clothing was all but gone, only enough to cover her modesty. But what scared Lucius the most was the fact that she was slobbering mindlessly on the ground. He bent down and grabbed an arm to wrench her up and drag her to the smaller sideroom where the rest of them were kept.

But he recoiled in disgust when not hot clammy skin met his hand, but slippery, bloody flesh.

Then he realized what Bellatrix had been doing with the blade.

She must have seen the horrified expression on his face because she started cackling madly before grabbing his arm roughly and pulling him forcibly to the prisoners' sideroom; ironically, she did it in the same way he had been about to do the Mudblood.

"Wait till you see what I've done to our resident hero, Lucius!" She cackled.

"Bella… I hope you remembered that he isn't to be killed! The Dark Lord wants him broken to showcase to the public, not dead!"

"I know, Lucy! I didn't kill him… I just wanted to see how long his blood would run for a day!"

Lucius swallowed the bile rising from his gut as the stench of feces, vomit, urine and unkempt bodies assaulted his nose as they drew nearer to the closed door. Lucius wrenched his arm from his sister-in-law's grip, before drawing his wand, and slowly pushing the door open.

He ducked, barely dodging the outstretched hands of an obviously insane Ron Weasley, who was rudely rebuffed by Bellatrix, back against the wall in the small room, hitting it with a sickening crunch. His vacant smile never left his face.

Lucius shuffled in, his worries compound at the sight of an obviously severely damaged Weasley family all moaning or crumpled silently against the walls.

The young woman, however, just twenty two years old, was staring transfixed at the far wall, muttering under her breath continuously. Lucius followed her gaze and blanched, looking away.

"Good Lord… Bella… what have you done?" He said, shocked.

"Nothing really… I kept him alive… I just wanted to see how long boy heroes bled…" She whined insanely.

Lucius took a deep breath and looked again.

Harry Potter had been nailed to the wall. In four places, the middle of his palms and the middle of his feet… It seemed as though Bellatrix had been torturing him in this room instead of moving him out. She had cut various shallow designs into his skin, and had somehow kept them from scabbing over. There were a couple of deep wounds on his arms and chest, but nothing too life threatening… as long as she made sure he had enough blood.

"It's really funny when I do this." She cackled before hurling her silver dagger right at the prone savior, aiming for his stomach.

It hit its target with a soft thunk and lay imbedded there, with no visible reaction from Harry Potter.

"He usually screams long and hard… It's such a delightful noise!" Bellatrix said, confused.

Lucius Malfoy sensed danger approaching, and warily, he looked back at the man Bellatrix was whining about. His eyes widened.

"Bella… he's not supposed to be able to perform any kind of magic in here, is he?"

"Of course not! The Dark Lord warded the place himself!"

"Then… why is there power gathering around him?"

Bella looked confused at his question.

"Pay attention, you daft woman! Get him to stop!"

But they both felt that upsurge of power as he spoke, and as one, their eyes snapped to their prisoner. Lucius managed to utter a small prayer for his wife and son as he turned to meet the suddenly powerful being near them.

The gathering power grew in a crescendo, and then in one defining moment, stood, billowing out in a display of pure strength, before it disappeared.

Harry Potter's glowing green eyes opened, promising death.