I'm starting another story. Yes, another one. That means that I have three stories going at the same time. I couldn't help it though! I was taking a shower the other day and the inspiration hit me upside the head. I promise it wasn't that I fell in the shower or anything… Has that ever happened to any other writers – inspiration coming in the shower? It seems that's when I have my best ideas.

Oh well… onto the story…

"We've got them! We've got them at last! After almost a year of planning!"

The voice laughed shrilly, triumphantly.

"You… yes, you… contact our Lord now and tell him the news. What are you waiting for? Go!"

There were excited whispers and muffled laughs.

"He… He's on the way. It will be about two weeks before he will arrive, though."

"Well, what are we supposed to do with these two until then?"

"He said to put them in the holding cell."

The Holding Cell

By

Luckyducky

Chapter I

The Holding Cell

Present Time

The floor was cold… so cold. The chill had crept into his very bones, making them ache as if he was an elderly wizard with joint problems. An involuntary shiver ran through his body and he could feel the goosebumps break out all over his body. This just made him even colder, if that was possible.

Plus his head hurt.

Bad.

Hesitantly, he opened his eyes. The darkness was so thick at first that he could see nothing. And then, slowly, his eyes adjusted and rock walls formed around him. The rock materializations began with the ceiling. The rock was smooth and shiny with moisture. His eyes traveled down from the ceiling. Damp rock ceiling that led to damp rock walls that led to a damp rock floor.

No wonder he was cold.

He moved his limbs, experimenting to see if he was injured. For the life of him, he could not remember anything leading up to his current, potentially problematic, situation. His legs moved fine, as did his arms. With at least his four limbs operational, he decided to push himself up onto his elbows. This was when he discovered the pain in his right rib section.

Grimacing, he pressed around the sore spot. It turned out to be a rather large area, but thankfully nothing was broken. It seemed he had gotten away with just a bruise. Suddenly, he remembered his wand. He quickly reached into his back pocket where he almost always stowed his wand away.

It wasn't there.

Disappointed, he pushed himself up further into a sitting position. His side was practically screaming at him. It sure did hurt like hell. As his eyes continued to adjust, he noticed more details of his rock room.

The room, if you could call it a room, was mid-sized. Probably eight foot by eight foot. There was a dull light on the wall farthest from where he sat, but he couldn't tell what it was coming from and he didn't have the energy at the moment to get up and investigate. It didn't exactly seem like he was going to get out of wherever he was anytime soon.

Damn, he wished he could remember what had happened!

Suddenly he heard the scrape of a shoe on rock. He tensed and listened hard for another noise. There! He had heard it again. It came from the wall to the left of the light. Squinting in the darkness, he tried to pinpoint the exact location.

"You have no need to fear me," rasped a voice from the darkness.

"Who are you?" he demanded more strongly than he felt.

"Someone like you."

"What do you mean by that?"

The scraping noises returned and he could see a slight hint of movement in the darkness. It moved, but he could not tell where it was headed, either towards him or away from him. His head hurt so much that he felt disoriented. If this person meant him harm, there was no way he would be able to properly defend himself, especially without a wand.

"I mean I am in the same position as you."

"And what position is that?"

A rough laugh came from the darkness, "A damn shitty position."

He hesitated for a minute as the scraping started up again. Gradually a hand came into the stream of light. He watched it intently as it was the only part of the unknown person he could see. It was motionless for a short period before it slipped, catching itself before the rest of its body hit the floor. Whoever this hand belonged to must be just as weak as he felt, or weaker.

"I asked you who you were," he demanded once more.

"Yes, I believe I remember that. Funny, since I don't remember much of anything anymore."

"Well if you aren't going to tell me who you are, can you at least tell me where we are at?"

"We… we are on the threshold of death itself, young man."

"The threshold? Of death?"

"Yes. It is a pity that ones as young as you and your friend must die here."

"Friend? What are you talking about?"

Another hand materialized out of the darkness, pointing to something behind him. The hand itself was wrinkled and spotted. A gash across the entire top of his hand dripped blood onto the floor. He turned his body in an attempt to keep his eyes on the position of the other person, but also give him the opportunity to glance at his 'friend.'

"I already told you, young man. You have nothing to fear from me."

"I'm not scared of you, old man!" he yelled back.

Quickly, he glanced to his right. To his complete and utter surprise, the light fell upon a splash of red hair.

"Lily!" he cried.

Forgetting about the other man, he scrambled across the floor to where she lay facedown on the rock floor. Carefully he turned her over, her head flopping onto his lap. He smoothed her hair away from her face. There was a small cut on her forehead, but she otherwise seemed to be unhurt.

"She is fine, yes?"

He glanced back into the shadows towards the other man.

"Where are we? Who has done this to us?"

"I have already told you. We are at the thre…"

"Yes, I know. The threshold of death. Well a lot of good that does me. How exactly am I supposed to escape from the threshold of death?"

"You can't."

"Well a fat lot of help you are. Damn crazy old loon."

He continued to stroke Lily's hair.

"What is your name, young sir?"

Sarcastically he replied, "I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours first."

Silence met his reply. The hand that had pointed had disappeared back into the darkness. The other hand resting on the floor was still visible. Reluctant to look at the hand, he turned to look at Lily.

"Lily? Lily, please wake up. Please," he pleaded to her unconscious form.

Her eyes twitched and cracked open, as if she had heard his request. The green of her eyes as she looked up at him, filled him with warmth and relief and hope. He would get out of here, if nothing more than to save her.

"James," she said softly, "where are we?" He saw her green eyes turn frightened as she began to look around the room.

"I don't know. I was hoping you might remember something, because I can't remember a thing."

She pressed her palm to her forehead as she sat up.

"I… I can't remember anything."

"It's okay, Lily. Don't strain yourself."

"No. You wouldn't want to strain yourself."

Lily jumped at the sudden and unexpected voice. Noticing the hand, she scooted backwards until her back rested against James' chest. In an attempt to comfort her, he put his arms around her shoulders.

"Who's there?" she cried.

"Your young friend here asked me earlier where you were."

"Lily, don't listen to him, he's obviously crazed from being in here…"

"You are in a holding cell."

James stopped his whispering and stared once more at the darkness the hand led to.

"A holding cell for what, exactly?" Lily asked softly and much less demandingly than James.

"Young woman, you are in a death eater holding cell. This is where they put those who are to be killed at a later date than their capture."

"You mean we've been captured by death eaters?"

"More or less."

"Oh my god, James. What are we going to do?"

"You can't do anything. There is no escape."

Lily frowned at the darkness, "If there is a way into this cell, then there must be a way out. Just let me find my wand."

"Foolish girl!"

"Hey! You can't talk to her li…"

"You really think the death eaters would permit you to keep your wand, your only defense?"

Lily stopped her searching and leaned once more into James who sat deep in thought. Lily was right. If there was a way in, then there was a way out. Not all hope was lost.

"So how long are we to wait here?" Lily asked.

"Until they decide to kill you."

"Well how long have you been here?"

"One month."

"Why so long?" James asked, shocked. He imagined death eaters would like to kill their victims sooner than that.

"My torture and death will set an example to my people."

They sat in silence for a couple of minutes before James felt Lily jerk in his arms.

"Lily, are you okay?"

"Oh James, I just remembered how we came to be here." She turned in his arms so she could look into his eyes. "We were betrayed. Don't you remember? He betrayed us."

Realization dawned on James as the memories flooded back.

"That bastard. If I ever see him again, I swear I'll kill him!"

"James, I'm so sorry! This is my entire fault! I should have listened to you!"

"Hush! This is not your fault. There is no way you could have known for certain. I didn't."

It seemed, though, that no matter what he said she still felt responsible, and his heart broke into a thousand tiny pieces when she sobbed into his chest. Her hands clutched fistfuls of his dirty shirt as her body shook with her weeping. Through Lily's crying, James heard the scraping begin again. He tried to watch the hand, but it slowly disappeared back into the darkness.

The departure of the hand escaped Lily's attention as she continued to cry.

"James I'm so sorry," she managed to utter through her sobs. "How can you ever forgive me?"

"We're going to die and it's all my fault!"

End Chapter I

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Luckyducky