There was something about power. It attracted some people like a moth to the flame, others were frightened away by it.
Then there were those unfortunate enough to be ruled by it, consumed and owned by the power of someone else. Not able to identify because of another person.
It was especially terrifying when the person basked in and abused their power.
Harry sat still on the floor, except for his heavy breathing as the wall at his back help him up. His shoulders lifted with every breath that echoed throughout the room. It was always like this.
Voldemort would demand his presence or wish to see him. He would demand things of Harry that the boy didn't want. There was always an exchange though. Voldemort would either punish him before the deal, or torture him for fun after all was said and done if he acquiesced in the beginning. He didn't know which was worse.
The before punishments were usually savage and painful. They began in anger and ended with a satisfied Voldemort. They were routine though. Usually a crucio or another unimaginative spell that's sole purpose was to cause pain.
Then there were the after punishments where Voldemort had time to plan. Where the punishments were detailed, inventively so. They were gruesome and long.
He'd begin everyday, vowing to hold onto himself for as long as possible. Trying to keep hold of the Harry that Ron and Hermione knew. He'd start new everyday, knowing that giving up and changing into something else would be much more worse in the end.
Life wasn't fair for him, but he wasn't the one with the power; he didn't make the rules. His Lord, Voldemort, did.