The flicker, the light.
Harry sat slumped in agony; his chest destroyed by the curse that Voldemort had sent at him. He spluttered and felt the gorge rise in his throat; mixed with thick and warm, bitter blood. Harry watched his wand; only a few inches from his hand, Voldemort had not moved it, for why should he? He could barely move at all. The hollowness had just left it, as a torture and reminder of how powerless he was against him; how the power to aid him lay just out of reach. The power.
Harry wondered why Voldemort had injured him so bad, if he had wanted him alive, this was not the best way to go about it. Harry knew he couldn't live like this for more than a few days. There had to be some end to it. A darkness at the end of the tunnel, a blurred tunnel of torture and laughter. His limbs jumped as his muscles reacted to the Cruciatus curse, with each twitch, a burning pain ran through his chest.
Harry only heard dull echo's of what transpired in the room. Voldemort was talking to his deatheaters, probably boasting about the easy capture. Harry could feel the tension in the room and the monster paced in front of his followers. He felt a small nag at his scar but his mind wasn't able to comprehend it over the living pain that still occupied his veins.
Finally there was a break in the monotonous tones and Harry felt eyes upon his frame. He quivered slightly and flinched at the thought of more curses.
Voldemort came closer to him and Harry looked up at him through a blurred film. Harry made out a sneer on the blunt face, but Harry could also sense an undercurrent of worry. Of course not for his wellbeing, but for something else...
Voldemort lifted his wand and drew Harry relatively gently from the ground; Harry lay limp upon the atmosphere. He let his head loll and his eyes close. He hoped with all his might that he may be allowed some rest from his agony.
There was a change in the air that jolted Harry from his near slumber. He cracked his eyes open and found a dark figure standing near him. A dark figure, with lank greasy hair and cold black eyes.
Harry groaned.
Severus Snape paced in the headmasters office. He was thinking hard upon the recent events. Blacks disappearance; shortly followed by Potters. The man robed in black sneered as his mind rested upon the boy. He had been foolish, and now he was in immediate danger once again.
He had found them all in her chambers; he had also disrupted a curse that should have not been uttered from the ministry official. Potter had escaped due to his untimely arrival. If only he had been a few minutes later...
The portraits snuffled in false sleep, he knew that they were all waiting for the return of Dumbledore and the students, but something seemed wrong. Snape made an impatient noise of annoyance. He was thinking rash. Of course the headmaster would return with them all. There was simply nothing to worry about. All he had to do was wait for the –most likely- unconscious boy and his peers. Snape allowed a cruel smile to fall upon his lips. Oh, how he would berate the boy for his foolishness.
The man rubbed at his left forearm subconsciously, unknowing of the turmoil that was taking place at the side of his master.
There was a glowing from behind the desk and the potions master stopped in step and waited for the appearance of the rescue party. The light reflected off the delicate objects in the room and the professors eyes sparkled for a while.
What he was met with was completely different to what he had expected.
A girl with bushy hair flew from the glowing light; alongside a red head and their headmaster. The girl was sobbing and the boy was barely standing; his face void from any colour. Snape deduced from the display that something had gone terribly wrong.
The headmaster placed a hand on Granger's shoulder and whispered something in her ear. She nodded and made her way to his inner office where she sat. Weasley followed after he stole a glance at Snape.
The headmaster then sat in his chair and let out a sigh; he signalled for Snape to do the same. Reluctantly the professor sat; where he watched the older man place a pair of cracked frames on the desk. An understanding rose within the potions master and he looked at the other man with a hard gaze.
"Potter is dead?" Dumbledore closed his eyes for a second before leaning forward and placing his elbows upon the desk.
"No."
"So he was taken?"
"Yes, Severus, he had found out, Harry was lucky to be alive at all." Snape sat back in his chair and began to notice the itch in his left forearm.
"And, what does he intend to do?"
"I am afraid that Tom will possible try to turn Mister Potter." Snape let out a short laugh,
"And he thinks that the boy will simply comply?" The headmaster shook his head with a small smile,
"I don't know what sort of state he will be in Severus; you must do your best for him." Snape narrowed his eyes. He made no comment on the headmaster's change of topic; of course he was expected to be there upon his master's triumph, for he was part of their inner circle.
It had been hard going back during the summer. His master had not treated him kindly, even with the information he had provided him with. Potter had a godfather.
"I will go when I am called." The old made sighed,
"The later you leave the more trouble you will find." He paused before continuing, "You must leave your strife behind for now Severus, no doubt you wish to decline my request, but even you cannot ignore the suffering Mister Potter will be going through tonight. You must do your very best." The man in black held back an annoyed retort as his arm began to burn savagely. He tensed, but the old man missed nothing. He looked over his half moon spectacles and waited for the man to move from his seat.
Snape stood and walked towards the door. His hand rested upon the handle before he turned back,
"I will report on my findings headmaster, goodnight." And with that, the man in black flew through the door.
The wind whistled past his ears as he walked through the grounds, he made it to the gates and readied himself for whatever he met. Snape passed the gates and turned on the spot and disappeared into the night.
It was gloomy and cold.
Snape strode through the meeting place and wondered why he hadn't been called to the final resting place. Obviously his master had plans. Finally he appeared at the edge of a dark circle. He suppressed a smirk as he passed the deatheaters of whom he did not know.
There was a circle in the middle of the gloom; barely lit by firelight, but Snape could see just enough to make out a hovering form of a young student. Snape almost recoiled at the sight of the broken form. He stopped himself from signalling his distress; instead he placed a well practised poker face upon his face before he turned towards a pale snake like face. His eyes met with red and his shield came down.
The figure groaned and Snape placed a smile on his face as he looked over the boys' condition.
"My my Mister Potter, what have gotten into now?"
The room laughed and Voldemort's eyes glinted in malevolence.
"Heal him and bring him to me. Do not fail me."
Yes yes yes, I added another chapter.
So, I just woke up and felt inclined to write about this one. I thank you for the reviews.
I would enjoy your reviews upon reading my other fan fiction "Harry Potter and the Blood of the Enemy" where the same themes are conveyed. This story is top of my priorities and I intend it to be long. I ask that you consider reading my other texts. if you like this short fiction, I am sure you will enjoy my others, as the same ideas and scenes will be found. The plot is more developed than this and I am positive that I will carry that one on.
Sorry to ramble.
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter
