Okay peoples, couple things you might want to know about me, this story and my writing styles!

I saw a couple people writing on this and it struck as an excellent idea, so I started reading, most fic's with this summary end up being really vile and mature. This will not be rated anything above pg-13 for cursing and slavery.

I do not nor will I ever support gay anything, so no Draco/harry, snape/harry, Ron/harry or Voldemort/harry in any form any where in this story. If you are looking for something like that look elsewhere.

There is no need for rape in these stories so in this one there isn't.

These are my rules for this story, if you don't like them, tuff, there are others stories out there that I'm sure have one or all of these things.

On a lighter note I am a huge cliché! So be warned of major cheesiness!

I think I can write a decent story without all of these things, so if you're like me and don't like all the gayness and sex descriptions this story is for you! Without stalling any longer I present to you Time Twists!

Find Truth

Kale Ride

Chapter 1

Memories of Many

Hermione stared across the starry sky from the barred window. Azkaban was the most hopeless and desolate place on the planet, but the stars shone brightly at night and she had never seen so many of them. The dementors had tried to repress her hope but she had never let them, for was it not for the hope she would go mad. Hermione closed her eyes and allowed herself to drift away on a sea of memories.

She and Ron were sitting on the wooden bleachers that surrounded the Quidditch Field. Something wasn't right. Five minutes ago the officials had been signaled that the Triwizard cup had been found, at the same moment a burst of blue light erupted from the center of the maze The officials had run in to find out who had won. When the arrived they found no champion, no cup and no Hogwarts contestants. Hermione was starting to get nervous, where was Harry? Cedric?

The minutes passed slowly all the students were directed to stay in their seat. Finally after nearly half an hour after the blue light she could bear it no longer.

"Come on Ron let's go find out what's going on!" Ron nodded slightly dazed as if he was waking up from a dream. Ron and Hermione made there way to the steps and descended. They had just reached the bottom when another blue light broke the night; when it faded Hermione looked on the scene in front of her. There, lying dead on the ground was Cedric, his eyes were wide with fear and his mouth was slightly open. In one hand he held the Triwizard cup, in the other was Harry's shirt. The shirt was stained with dirt and blood, the left sleeve ripped open.

With shaking hand's Hermione took the shirt and held it close to her body, and began sobbing. She wasn't the only one, others were there crying for Cedric, no one seemed to notice the shirt or what it probably meant. She felt a hand on her shoulder, when she looked up she saw Ron looking down at the shirt clutched in Hermione's hands as the tears silently rolled down his cheeks.

The rest of that night was a blur to Hermione, she vaguely remembered searches going out to find Harry, and no one ever had, alive or otherwise. She had lost her best friend that night and hadn't seen him since, no one had. The-Boy-Who-Lived had disappeared, without a trace, forever. Hermione knew Harry wasn't dead, and so had begun to search for him every chance she got. She had also heard that a very unpleasant dark wizard was finally back, just rumors but still.

A year later she had been taken captive by Voldemort on one of her outings during the summer. She wasn't sure but she'd heard another rumor that the day after she had gone missing Ron had received an owl from his best friend Hermione Granger, it was a suicide note. Just like her friend Harry, her body had never been found. Two years had passed since she was kidnapped, three years since Harry had vanished.

Tears once again rolled down Hermione's cheeks as she remembered, hope was still there she just had to look harder for it.

The night wore on for the red haired private investigator, although the sign outside his door read "Private Investigator" the man had never had a client and had only worked one case, the disappearance Harry James Potter, legendary wizard and Ron Weasly's best friend.

Ron took another swig of coffee and grimaced; how Muggles could drink that crap was beyond him. Ron had been going over the story in his head since that night; he squeezed his eyes shut as memories took him.

He was sitting at the desk in his small attic room at the burrow writing and rewriting a letter to Hermione Granger asking her on a date, when someone knocked on his door.

"Come in!" He called without getting up to welcome the intruder; it was Ginny, once again in black. She had never really gotten over Harry's disappearance.

"Letter, Ron!"

"Thanks Ginny!" He said smiling as he took it from her, she smiled back then left. Ron looked at the envelope in his hands and opened it, inside was a single handwritten sheet. Ron pulled it out and read

Dear Ron,

I'm sorry to have to do this to you but I must, in my recent travels I have come across new evidence. I can't take it any longer Ron, all this denial when both you and I know the truth. Harry is dead. There is nothing left to do. I must end the misery, this is the only way. Good bye forever.

Your Past Friend,

Hermione Granger

Ron's hands shook as he read the letter over again.

"Hermione!" He shouted knowing he was already too late. He fell to his knees on the ground and sobbed. Feet pounded up the stairs but Ron barely heard them. They entered his room and asked what was wrong, Ron wordlessly stood up grabbed the letter he had been composing and shoved Hermione's letter at his family before running down stairs to the fire place. He threw his letter onto the burning embers and it caught fire. Ron stood, tears still streaming, watching his life burn.

The tears came now as they had that night, the night he had made it his only goal to find Harry and restore the hope of the wizarding world.

Not long after Voldemort took over everything and Ron had run. He had lost everything, his friends, his home and his family, who had gone into hiding. This obsession was all he had left, this devotion to finding out what had really happened that night three years ago at the Triwizard Tournament. The night that had torn his life apart.

Ron sighed and opened the top drawer of his desk to reveal an old shirt, covered with mud and dried blood, ripped at the left sleeve. It was all Ron had left of the life that had never come to be.

Voldemort sat on his black throne in the upper room of Malfoy Manor absently twirling his wand. He had finally done it after all those failed attempts he had gotten it right. He smiled cruelly at the man on his knees before him.

"Did you think you could rebel against me, boy? Did you think I wouldn't find out?" The man said nothing, but stared into Voldemort's face showing no fear.

"Answer me boy!" Voldemort said and flicked his wand; a gash appeared on the man's face. The man did not even flinch; Voldemort watched the blood drip to the tiled floor. Hardship had brought out a new side of Neville Longbottom, he was tough and determined and Voldemort hated that in someone that did not support him. He had to break this boy and he had just the way.

"I have something to show you Longbottom, come!" two death eaters grabbed Neville and followed Voldemort down to the dungeons of Malfoy Manor. They walked to the farthest cell from the door before Voldemort finally stopped.

The door had no handle and no window, Voldemort tapped it with his wand and the door opened into a cell. He then grabbed a torch off its bracket and entered. The Deatheaters toting Neville followed; Neville looked around the cell was dark and cold, made of stone. The only light came from the torch Voldemort was holding.

Neville heard the faint clinking of chains and looked over into the corner, just out side the light cast by the torch, was a man sitting with his back to the wall, his knees were brought up to his chest surrounded by his arms, his wrists were bound in heavy shackles and he rested his head on his knees. The man was visibly shaking, probably from the cold as he wore no shirt.

Voldemort handed the torch to a death eater who immediately let go of Neville and took it. Voldemort walked over to the man and dragged him into the torch light by his hair and threw him down again right in front of Neville. The man was pale, so pale his skin was almost white; Neville wondered when the last time was the man had seen the sun. Voldemort then walked up to the man and grabbed a fistful of the man's jet black hair forcing his face into the light. For the first time Neville saw the figures face, it was thin and ghostly pale; Neville wouldn't have recognized it at all if he didn't look into the man's eyes, the were a bright emerald green, Neville felt his jaw drop as he looked into Harry's face for the first time in three years.

No! He told himself, No that isn't Harry! Neville looked away from the face and onto the forehead of "Harry" sure enough the scar was there, then Neville remembered the only thing that had ever been found of Harry, his shirt. It was Harry! He had been alive all this time, a prisoner, a slave.

Voldemort let go of Harry's hair but Harry continued to look up into one of the faces he had longed to see for the past three years. Although Harry was glad to see Neville he would rather have not seen him. They were now both in the snakes pit; Harry had long ago lost hope of escaping. Although he hated to say it, Voldemort had almost broken him. Voldemort smiled evilly and nodded to the other guard who let go of Neville's arm.

"Well I expect you two have some catching up to do." Voldemort said as he walked out of the cell followed by the deatheaters and shut the door. The cell was once again plunged into darkness. The cell was so dark that Neville couldn't see his hand in front of his face.

Neville heard the clinking of chains and realized Harry was moving, Neville heard a faint clicking noise and the cell was full of light again. Harry was holding what looked like a cigarette lighter (AN: I know that Harry doesn't have the delluminator but bear with me.) Harry and Neville stared at each other once again, as if trying to make sure they weren't dreaming. Finally Neville took the initiative.

"Harry?"

"Neville?" Harry's voice was hoarse from lack of use but Neville could hear his friend behind it.

"Harry I-" He was cut off as Harry jumped up and hugged him, Neville winced slightly as he felt heavy chains hit his back.

"Neville, it's so good to see you, though I wish you weren't here."

"It's good to see you too Harry, we all thought you were dead, except Hermione that is until-" Neville trailed off and looked at the ground.

"Until what, Neville?" Neville did not reply, and Harry grew impatient.

"Neville! What happened?"

"Hermione committed suicide a year after you disappeared." Harry sank into a seated position in complete shock. Hermione dead, no that couldn't be, Harry tried desperately to conjure up a memory of her face but it was faded with the years of darkness. Harry was almost afraid to ask his next question but he had to know.

"Ron?"

"After she died he devoted his life to finding you, mostly for her I think, she went out searching constantly for you. She always knew you were alive, no matter how many people tried to reason with her, she always said that you weren't dead. I guess after a year of searching with nothing to show for it but a bloody shirt, it was too much." Harry swallowed afraid of what came next.

"The Weasly's changed after you disappeared, they were all less happy, I swear even Fred and George stopped making jokes. And Ginny, Ginny was the worst. She wouldn't wear anything but black and started hanging out with the wrong crowd. When Voldemort took over the ministry the whole Weasley family went into hiding and hasn't been seen since. Except for Ron, he opened a muggles private investigators business. He never takes any cases though he spends all his time on your disappearance. Many people do; even though the Ministry made it an illegal act punishable by a life sentence of imprisonment in Azkaban. That's how they got Sirius, Lupin and Luna." Harry cringed at what Neville was telling him, his friends were trapped in Azkaban because of him.

"Never mind that Harry what happened to you?" Harry closed his eye as Neville's words brought back memories of the night that had ruined his life along with so many others.

Harry looked a Cedric's body from where he lay on the ground, stunned. This was strange, it wasn't Voldemort's style to stun his victims, he liked to make them suffer. No, something wasn't right, besides the fact that he was lying unable to move with his arch enemy pointing a wand in his face in the other hand he held Harry's wand. Voldemort flicked his wand and Harry was able to move again, Voldemort flicked his wand again wordlessly and Harry felt the lightness of the imperius curse come over him.

"Take off you shirt." Voldemort commanded as he stuck Harry's wand into a pocket, what he didn't know was that Harry could throw off the imperius curse completely. This curse was much stronger than Moody's, Harry found himself barely able to resist the command.

"Take. Off. Your. Shirt. Harry." The command was stronger this time it took all of Harry's concentration not to obey.

"TAKE OFF YOUR SHIRT NOW!" Harry could not resist the command and removed his shirt.

"I see you've been taught how to throw off the imperius curse Potter. Who taught you?" Harry was no longer under said curse but once again had a wand in his face, still Harry said nothing.

"Crucio!" Harry was on the ground again but would not let a scream escape his lips as burning metal scraped along the inside of his skin. The curse finally lifted and Harry laid breathing heavily on the ground.

"I asked who taught you." Again Harry said nothing and was again tortured.

"Harry you cannot escape me, I will continue to torture you until you tell me." Harry would not allow himself to betray Moody.

"Legilimens!" Harry heard the unfamiliar word before he felt the searing pain in his head and his life began to flash before his eyes.

He was four trying to avoid Dudley's small fist.

He was nine climbing up a tree to get away from Ripper the bulldog.

He was eleven and Hagrid was breaking down the door to give Harry his letter.

He was twelve looking at Hermione's petrified body.

He was thirteen talking to his godfather, Sirius, before he flew away on Buckbeak.

He was fourteen and Moody was teaching them how to throw off the imperius curse.

The pain ended as suddenly as it had begun, leaving nothing but a throbbing headache and Voldemort's mirthless chuckle.

"How ironic that it should be my servant to teach you how to keep control over yourself, it doesn't matter. You will do what I want, or you will wish you had never been born as I already do Harry Potter." Harry lay on the ground panting and staring with loathing at the slit pupil snake standing before him. He would show no fear; fear would be his down fall.

"Now, I have just one more matter of business to take care of Harry and then we can be on our way." Voldemort walked up to Cedric's body and placed Harry's shirt in one of his hands and the Triwizard cup in the other. As soon as the cup came into contact with Cedric's skin there was a blinding blue light and Cedric vanished. Harry stared at the place where his last hope had vanished. Voldemort then returned to Harry and grabbed a fist full of jet black hair and pulled Harry to a kneeling position. Harry clenched his jaw against the pain.

"That's better after so many attempts I finally have you where you belong, kneeling at my feet." With that Voldemort turned on the spot and Harry was engulfed in darkness.

Harry had relayed his entire story to Neville as he sat there, his knees once again brought up to his chest surrounded by his arms his chains also crossed across his knees. The skin on his wrists had long since disappeared, but he was so used to the pain he barely acknowledged it any more. Neville looked at Harry and noticed that the Boy-Who-Lived would not survive here much longer. The light in Harry's eyes had almost gone out, he had almost been broken. Almost. Harry stood up and turned away toward the wall, the light fell on Harry's exposed back. Neville gasped as he saw hundreds of scars crisis crossing across Harry's back; worst of all was the brand, Harry had been branded with the dark mark on the back of his left shoulder. Unlike other dark marks it wasn't a tattoo; it was an actual brand, like something that would be done to cattle.

Harry turned back to Neville a question in his emerald eyes.

"Harry what-"

Neville was cut off as a small tap echoed through the door. Instantly Harry whipped out the cigarette lighter and clicked it, once again plunging the cell into complete darkness. Seconds later the door opened and a new light filled the cell, brighter than the last, so bright Neville had to squint and look away. Harry cowered in the corner as the Snake stepped in; Neville stood up and stared defiantly into Voldemort's face. The Snake ignored him and pointed to Harry. "Take him!" He commanded, two faceless Deatheaters walked to Harry and unchained his arms. Harry was shaking uncontrollably as they dragged him from the cell.

"I shall be back for you later." The Snake said before he left slamming the door behind him. Neville stared at the renewed darkness unable to see his own hand in front of his face. A couple minutes after Voldemort had left, Neville herd a scream. He had no doubt of whom the scream was coming from. The screaming continued and Neville gritted his teeth at the sound of the last hope for the wizarding realm being tortured.

Harry began to shake as the two death eaters grabbed him and hauled him from the cell. Harry had to close his eyes against the light in the hallways, he hadn't seen the sun or anything brighter than a torch in three years, he couldn't remember what the stars looked like or what sun felt like as it gently caressed your skin. For Harry it was only darkness, fear and pain. Harry didn't remember much other than the cell he was kept in day in and day out. He had no concept of time, he knew he had been missing longer than a year, Neville had said so, but other than that it could have been a week, a month, a year or a decade he had no idea.

Voldemort stopped outside a heavy wooden door and opened it. The two Deatheaters dragged Harry into the room and to a chain with manacles hanging from the ceiling in the center of the room. After securing Harry's hands to the manacles they went over and stood on either side of the door.

Harry looked around he knew this room well, and after he was brought here he was often unable to think for the pain, memories assaulted him as he heard the snake begin to crack a whip.

Harry fought the hand firmly clamped on his hair as he and Voldemort plummeted through darkness and they were squeezed through a tube.

'I have to get away!' thought Harry as he struggled harder, but it was no use Voldemort would not let him go. The more Harry struggled the tighter the tube seemed to become, until finally the tube disappeared and Harry was in circular a stone room with chains hanging from the ceiling. The Deatheaters had also apparated to this spot and were now watching him. Voldemort kept a firm grip on Harry's hair and dragged him to the chains in the center, where two Deatheaters restrained him while Voldemort locked the cuffs in place.

"Welcome, Harry Potter, to your new home." Harry glared defiantly into the face of Voldemort before spitting at his feet. Voldemort narrowed his red eyes and walked over to the wall on Harry's right and removed a wicked looking whip.

"You will learn, oh yes Harry, you will learn." Without warning Voldemort swung the whip ripping open the flesh on Harry's back, Harry clenched his teeth but didn't make a sound. The whip cracked again and once again Harry didn't even make a sound. Over and over the whip struck Harry, but he never screamed.

By the time the whip fell for the fiftieth time Harry was hanging limp from the chains. His back and wrists screaming in protest, as finally Voldemort lowered the whip. His back was torn and bloody as were his wrists. Harry's nightmare had begun. The Deatheaters returned and unlocked the chains binding Harry to the ceiling. As soon as they had released him Harry collapsed in a heap on the floor but still made no sound. The Deatheaters dragged him down a long hall and to a heavy wooden door without a handle. Voldemort came forward and tapped the door with his wand and it opened. The Deatheaters threw Harry in and he landed with a grunt on the cold stone floor. The cell was dark with the only the light from the hall outside to give light to the small room. The Deatheaters then came in and once again fastened manacles around the boy's already raw wrists. After that was done they left without a sound and Voldemort approached the beaten wizard, leaning down to speak to him.

"Well Harry do you now see that you could never have defeated me?" Harry, still breathing hard from the beating looked straight into Voldemort's eyes.

"Screw…you!" Voldemort narrowed his snake like eyes, Voldemort straightened up and kicked Harry viciously in the ribs. Not expecting the blow Harry groaned in pain as Voldemort turned to leave. Just as the snake reached the door he turned again.

"Oh and just so you know, there is no way of escaping. I have bewitched the door so that it can only be opened by a wand the phoenix core in my wand and none other." Harry fought to keep his expression neutral and some how managed it. Voldemort laughed and left plunging the cell into utter darkness.

Voldemort didn't know about the twin cores, he had absolutely no idea that Harry's wand and his own had the same phoenix's feather. Harry felt a flare of hope. As soon as he felt it he felt something else as well. Something was appearing in Harry's pocket just like the sorcerers stone had three years ago. Harry reached into his pocket and pulled out what felt like a cigarette lighter. Harry figured that any light was better than none at all and so clicked the lighter. To his surprise several balls of light fell from the object and hung in the air. Harry smiled weakly, he had no idea how the object had come to be with him but he was grateful for the light. Harry felt weariness wash over him, not wanting the object to be found he clicked it again and the light disappeared as Harry fell into darkness.

That was the night his nightmare had begun and it had continued since that moment. Harry was startled from his thoughts by the whip coming down across his back, Harry screamed in pain, long ago he had found that if he did not scream the beating would only last longer. Tears rolled down Harry's face as the whip struck again. He was dying and he was glad.

Well that's chapter one. This is the darkest thing I've ever written so sorry if it wasn't that good. Also this is 8 pages in word a new personal record. Thi is more an experiment than anything else. i let a few friends read it so i am now publishing it under threat of death i dont, whether or not i continue this story will depend on how many reviews i get. I already have the second and most of the third written so let me know what you think. Review if you want

Find Truth

Kale Ride