Into the Dark

Avery and his prisoner arrived at the outstation located just beyond the village of Hogsmead. Once there, he immediately located and confiscated Harry's wand and glasses.

"Is … is that Harry Potter?" stuttered the guard as he scrambled to his feet.

"Of course it is, you idiot. What are you waiting for? Give me the Portkey."

"But you gotta say the password first … Sir," he added as an afterthought.

"Damn, these blasted new rules," Avery grumbled and then tried to remember that day's password. "Oh yeah … its putus.*"

The guard nodded and handed over an old quill that was missing its nib, then stepped back and began to say the word to activate the Port Key.

"Wait, you idiot, wait!" Avery yelled.

"What?"

"Stupid kid," the aged Death Eater mumbled under his breath as he pressed his hand holding the Port Key to Harry's chest. "Now you can activate it."

~SH~

The Fastness was an immense stronghold; built by wizards of ancient times. It was situated on a large outcropping of rock in the middle of a raging river that cut its way through a dense forest in a far northern land.

The rectangular structure covered the entire outcropping. Its outer walls were flush with the sheer cliffs, so that a fall from any level of the stronghold would result in a straight drop down to the torrential waters below.

The upper levels of the building were illuminated from the light that entered from the numerous floor-to-ceiling windows. In contrast to the upper floors however, the dungeon level was dark and dank. It was built directly into the outcropping, the stone of which formed the walls. The water from the river below made its presence known by affecting the surfaces and air with a cold, oppressive moisture.

The dungeon consisted of one long corridor, along which were positioned numerous small, leaden doors that led to holding cells that were just as small and impossibly dark. Centrally located was a much larger room, the torture chamber, with all of its old apparatus standing in their well-worn positions — waiting to be used.

Access to the Fastness was only possible via Portkey, as it was banked with sheer rocky cliffs, there was no bridge over the river to traverse, nor was there a door for entry. Additionally, Voldemort had established anti-Apparation wards all around the fortress.

~o~

Avery landed on the floor of the reception room with Harry in tow. In the blink of an eye both guards jumped from their chairs and raced over to the unlikely duo.

"Where's the Dark Lord?" barked Avery.

The senior of the two guards reported that their master had been away for the day but would return to the fortress later that evening.

"Alright, help me get this prisoner down to the dungeon."

He levitated Harry down the wide stone staircase that led to the dungeons. Once inside the torture chamber, the Death Eater positioned his prisoner vertically against the far wall and cast Petrificus Totalus. Then he manually spread Harry's legs as wide as they would go and raised each of his arms so that they were perpendicular to his torso and for added assurance, he cast a temporary Sticking Charm.

Finally with a wave of his wand, Avery removed Harry's school robe, shirt, shoes and socks, leaving him bound to the wall wearing only a pair of trousers.

The veteran Death Eater stepped backwards and stared at the macabre sight before him.

Oh, how he loathed this young man for the trouble he'd caused Avery with that fiasco concerning the Prophesy. The Dark Lord had not yet forgiven Avery for his mistake and had continued to assign him to jobs generally delegated to lower ranking Death Eaters.

It was Avery's hope that with his capture and delivery of The Chosen One, he might finally regain favor with his Master.

He pointed his wand at Harry's head and cast, "Silencio."

Satisfied with his work, Avery and the junior Death Eater turned and exited the dungeon.

The heavy door swung closed and with a thud of absolute certainty, Harry was enveloped into a black and silent void.

~SH~

The first thing Harry sensed was that he was cold.

Really cold.

So cold, that he was shivering.

The other thing he noticed was his shoulders — they ached.

In fact, his whole body ached and it seemed as though he was against something hard and moist.

That made him wake up more and he opened his eyes.

Or at least he thought so, but he wasn't certain because everything was still black.

He tried to move and realized with a start that he couldn't; that fact caused his foggy brain to snap into sudden clarity. What the fuck?

He tried to move his arms and legs - but neither worked, so he tried to move his hands and then just a finger.

But they all remained absolutely, stubbornly still.

A sense of panic swept over him and caused his heart to pound and his breaths to shorten into shaky gasps of air.

Always maintain your composure, Severus' sage advice floated across Harry's panicky thoughts.

Calm down. Gotta think.

He tried to recall the last thing he could remember. The Hogs Head.

He called for Ron, or at least he tried to but his jaw wouldn't move and he had no voice.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

His efforts to calm down weren't working and his erratic breaths were starting to make him dizzy, or maybe he was getting dizzy because he was so cold.

Maybe this is just a graduation trick, he hoped desperately. But logic told him that his friends would never place him in such a predicament.

A tremor ripped through him as his body protested violently to the cold. It was as though Harry had no control his over his body; he couldn't make himself move but at the same time, it was shaking and shivering of its own accord. And that cold hard surface he was pressed tightly against was starting to feel like icy needles, piercing into his skin.

Then with a sickening jolt, the memory of the graveyard came roaring back as he realized that the cold hardness of the tombstone had felt just like the thing he was touching right now.

Fuck!

The possibility that Voldemort had him in that graveyard again was too terrifying a thought to entertain.

Can't be happening.

He was overcome with a consuming need to free himself but despite his monumental efforts, he remained stuck steadfastly to the wall while his shivering grew with intensity.

Gotta do something!

He tried to cast, "Finite," but he had no voice.

He tried to cast a silent, wandless Blasting curse, but without movement in his arms or hands, he couldn't.

Then he remembered his surges and he thought that if he could just make one happen, maybe it would break these spells.

But he hadn't had a surge in a very long time and he had never actually made one happen — at least not intentionally.

He knew that several times his magic had surged because he was worked up about something, so he concentrated on his fear and his panic. But nothing happened. All he accomplished was to wear himself down even more.

Determined not to give up, Harry tried to think of what else he could possibly do.

I gotta wait … till someone comes, he reasoned, thinking that when he was freed from these spells, he could then fight back.

He devised a plan of what he would do and what curses and hexes he would use.

Now all he had to do was to wait.

He waited and he waited and the silence persisted as the black got thicker and the cold got heavier, so heavy it felt as though it would slowly consume him.

And as he hung there - stuck to the wall in that pitch black room, his shaking and shivering continued as his exhaustion grew.

The cold was draining him of what little energy he had left and gradually, Harry's focused thoughts slid into dreams.

~He was flying on his Firebolt whilst holding the Snitch above him in victory~

Gotta stay awake. Gotta stay ... Gotta …

~Sev was kissing him while he had the most amazing orgasm~

His time stuck to the wall ticked on. How long has it been?

He couldn't tell.

At least now I'm not so cold …

It seemed as though the blackness was starting to swallow him.

Gotta stay awake …

Seeped of his energy and worn to exhaustion, Harry slipped into his own blackness.

~SH~

*Putus: Latin word meaning pure.