I was a bit too hasty with posting this chapter, and for that I apologize. I have made some changes to the chapter and I am now reposting it with said changes. It's not anything major, but enough that people who've already read it should re-read it or be confused during the next chapter. I don't want this story to be cliche, and it was a tad, so I've changed it. Again, I apologize. Please re-read it (or read it for the first time) and don't forget to review! I loves them:)

-Rachael

Quick (or not...) A/N:

After much deliberation, I've decided to change the title of this story. Here's the reason: Stockholm Syndrome occurs after a victim is shown acts of kindness by a captor, and thus develops a bond with that captor and doesn't want to understand that the person/people are wrong. Yes, the philosophy of the so-called Stockholm Syndrome will play a role in this story, but I've felt for a while that the title doesn't fit.

I've recently been inspired by the new Mae album Singularity, and that is where the new title comes from. Here's the definition for singularity:

1. Astrophysics: A point in space-time at which gravitational forces cause matter to have infinite density and infinitesimal volume, and space and time to become infinitely distorted.

2. A point of infinite density and infinitesimal volume, at which space and time become infinitely distorted according to the theory of General Relativity. According to the big bang theory, a gravitational singularity existed at the beginning of the universe. Singularities are also believed to exist at the center of black holes.

What this means, basically, is that in a singularity in space, density becomes impossible to measure and volume equals zero. This is the only time that the theory of General Relativity breaks down, as both density and volume are needed to complete the equation. Also, the geodesics, or path of the matter, cannot be completed in a smooth manner, which is essentially what creates the singularity. (Every freely moving particle in space moves along a geodesic, except for a singularity, which moves along incomplete geodesics.) As Mae themselves said of the word singularity: "It the ultimate unknowable in science... the interface between the natural and the supernatural. "

Sorry about that, guys, I just absolutely love science and things such as singularity and black holes fascinate me to no end. The other day I watched the history channel for about five hours straight because they were showing all this stuff about the universe. Very interesting.

But yeah, long story short: the title is being changed. Eventually, the reasons behind the title change will become glaringly apparent (when remembering the definitions of a singularity). :D And now, I would like to present what I hope will be a long chapter. -ttfn

I saw the map like any other would, looking to find and follow lines that led me to questions. But I can see it in the symmetry it's what was really always meant to be. This singularity is clear from a distance.

Light starts in a dark place.

The story of a car chase,

And I've become the criminal.

And fleeing from this scene,

And being caught in a bad dream,

The truth becomes the unthinkable.

Chapter 3: Light starts in a dark place.

When Harry next woke, he was still in complete darkness. It was surreal; no noise, no light, no anything. It was as if he was alone in the universe, in a swirling mass of a black hole: all alone with no hope. His mind wandered briefly back to his time in primary school, when his class had briefly learned about black holes. He had found the whole concept fascinating, and because he was a 'sickly' little boy and wasn't allowed to go outside at recess, he'd gone to the library to find out more.

That's where he was now: in a black hole, a singularity in the universe where matter ceased to exist and both space and time were infinitely distorted. Where he was distorted.

"Jeezus," he muttered to himself, "I must have hit my head than I thought." He struggled to sit up and gently propped himself against the wall. He figured that they must have hit him with some hexes in the time he'd been out, considering the amount of pain he was in.

He looked around as much as he could in the darkness and decided that he'd rather be in a black hole than where he really was. Leaning back, an involuntary sigh passed his lips and he tipped his head back, staring up as if somehow the ceiling would give him the answers to questions he didn't even know how to ask.

From what he knew about Voldemort and his practices, he figured he was in a dungeon of some sort. He hadn't been very lucid when they had dragged him here, but he vaguely remembered some stairs. Yes, the pain in his head remembered the stairs.

As it was pitch black in his prison, he couldn't see much of anything, but he could see well enough to know that there was no window. 'Damn,' he thought. 'Now there's no chance of letting anyone know where I am or that I'm even gone, unless I leave, and I don't think that's going to happen anytime soon.'

And besides, even if Voldemort or any of the Death Eaters told any of the Order that he was gone, mockery and all that, they would have to go the Dursley's and check first, having learned their lesson at the end of last year.

'Sirius...' Harry wondered if this was Sirius had spent all his years in Azkaban. He knew that the Dementors only checked on the prisoners a couple of times a day, even the ones they were supposed to watch 24/7. Had he sat in the cold, dark of his cell, dwelling on what could have been if he hadn't made one, lousy mistake?

Harry now knew the feeling. If only he hadn't acted so rashly... if only he had not let his... dislike of Snape skew his judgement... He now realized that there was nothing Snape could have done at the moment, not with Umbridge there, not to mention Malfoy and his cronies.

'I shouldn't have been such a damn idiot. Fuck... If I had just stayed, then Sirius would still be here...' He felt a tear slide down his cheek. So far he hadn't cried for Sirius, not really. And he wasn't about to here. He didn't want his enemies to see him like that. No, he'd mourn Sirius when he got out.

'If I get out...' Maybe he'd talk to Professor Lupin about him, maybe his parents too, since he still didn't know much about them...

'I really wish there was a window in here,' he thought dismally, looking around again. 'I'd love to see the stars...' He lay down again, deciding to not spend his remaining time moping, but try instead to get some sleep. 'Hopefully I'll have a good dream...'

We sleep for dreaming and away it goes...

Harry fought his next rise to wakefulness, not wanting to have to face reality. He opened his eyes and it was still dark. Still eerily quiet. He stood up and stretched his aching muscles. With nothing better to do, he decided to explore his prison in the dark, stretching out his hands to find the wall.

What his hands came into contact with, however, was not the wall. He gasped and opened his eyes, which he wasn't aware he had closed in the first place, and sought out what his hands were touching in the dark.

What he found were two gleaming silver-blue eyes staring at him. After staring at each other for a few moments, Harry dropped his arms and took a step back. "Malfoy," he breathed, "what the fuck are you doing here?" He watched as Draco Malfoy stood in front of him and raised his wand. Harry flinched and brought his hands up to protect his face and stumbled backward, bracing for the blow. Why would Malfoy pass up the chance to cause him pain, after all?

When nothing happened after a few moments, he cautiously lowered his hands and opened his eyes, prepared for the worst. Malfoy, however, was still standing there, holding his wand up which had ignited at the tip to shed light on the small cell they were in.

After a few more moments of silent staring, Malfoy broke the silence. "I was sent to check up on you," he spoke quietly, something that was unnatural for the Draco Malfoy Harry knew. The Malfoy he was used to would be jeering at him and being a pain in the ass as usual. 'Interesting...' Harry thought to himself, before Malfoy continued. "And well, the Dark Lord did say that he wanted you kept alive, so... here." With his foot, he pushed something forward.

It was a tray of food, which Harry hadn't even noticed yet. On it was a sandwich, some crackers, and a cup with what looked like water in it. Harry reached forward and pulled it to him. He hadn't noticed till now how hungry he was. 'How long was I out for?' he wondered.

He looked up to see Malfoy making his way to the door, taking the light with him. He seemed to notice this and after a few moments of hesitation, he sent a small ball of light at the wall, where it stuck like a small torch. He turned to leave again when Harry's quiet voice stopped him.

"Malfoy... thanks." Malfoy turned to look at Harry and then turned and left the room, leaving Harry alone once more.

Tonight I'll do what it takes to feel...

Over the next few days, or what Harry suspected was a few days, he figured out a rough plan of what they were trying to do to him. They only came and hexed him when he was asleep, and other than those times he had no human contact. So he had no contact at all that he could remember, and woke up in varying degrees of pain. He guessed that they were trying to drive him crazy with this isolation.

The sad part was, it was kind of working.

What none of them, including Harry himself, had planned on were Malfoy's visits. Out of all the people to help him in a situation like this, Draco Malfoy was the last one he would have planned on helping him out. But help Malfoy was.

The little ball of light he had spelled onto the wall was charmed to go out when anyone else came in, which Harry had learned when Snape had briefly came in to tell him that the Order was working on a way to rescue him, but that the effort was going slower than they had hoped because of the intricate spellwork the Dark Lord had placed on the premises.

To keep him in.

At first, Malfoy's visits had been just to bring him food. He had also spelled the trays to disappear as soon as he was done. It was Malfoy's job to feed him, but he was just supposed to bring bread and water, not the sandwiches and occasional pumpkin juice that he actually brought.

It was Malfoy's fifth or so visit when Harry finally mustered the courage to ask his supposed enemy why.

"Why are you helping me? Aren't you supposed to be helping them?" Malfoy turned from the door he had been about to walk out of and looked at Harry. He sighed, ran a hand a through his hair, and to Harry's surprise, came and sat next to him.

"Earlier this summer I had a... talk... with my godfather... about everything." Malfoy stole a look at Harry, who was looking back at him while munching on his sandwich. "I'd been having some doubts about this whole thing." He waved a hand vaguely through the air. "I mean, really, following someone is fine and all, but this is servitude! I just can't see myself bowing down to the lunatic upstairs for the rest of my life. And, no offense, but really, he's always been beat by you, a kid! That's just crazy! So, I talked with my godfather, and he said that I should follow my heart, but... I just don't see a way of this. Both my parents are basically forcing me to be here, so where would I go? Ever you're here now... no one else would believe that I really don't want to be a Death Eater... my godfather that there is always a way if you want one, but I just don't see one!"

Harry nodded. "Join the club. I, too, would love to leave this place. But for right now, it's impossible. But that still doesn't explain why you're helping me so much. Won't you get in a lot of trouble if anyone catches you?" Malfoy looked at him again and nodded. "Yeah, I would... but even though I hate you," here he smirked at Harry, who just stared at him. "That's just... schoolboy stuff. You may be a constant pain in my ass, but that doesn't mean I want you dead. Who would I fight with?" After a grin he turned serious. "But really, I don't want you dead, I mean, you're what, 15? It's a tad ridiculous, if you think about it. A true Dark Lord wouldn't get his ass continually kicked by a kid.

"That and, like I said, I don't agree with any of this. I don't want to kill people. But if I stay here, then that's I'll be forced to do. And if I help you, then I figure you'll put in a good word for me with Dumbledore, so maybe I won't have to stay here."

Harry nodded and continued eating, while Malfoy sat and stared into space, thinking about possibility.

Night falls with no grace...

From that time on, Draco's visits became longer and usually involved discussion between them. They had eventually forgiven each other for past grievances and came to an understanding. They talked about anything and everything, from Quidditch teams to possible ways to escape and impossible ways of escape, some of which included dressing up in suits of armor and jousting their way out.

They usually tried to keep things light, as neither one of them liked to be reminded of where they were and the fate that awaited them if they didn't escape. Harry filled Draco in on what Snape had told him during his last visit, that the Order's rescue attempts were still at a standstill. A couple times, though, they did venture into deeper territory during their talks; Harry told Draco about Sirius and what had happened at the end of last year, and Draco talked about what it was like growing up with Lucius Malfoy as your father.

Harry was shocked at some of the things Draco told him; how he had began learning the Dark Arts at age five and how for the most part, Draco had only seen Lucius when it was time for a punishment, which was usually a caning. This had led to some discussions about the Dursley's, and Harry and Draco began to realize that they were far more alike then they had thought possible.

One such visit found Harry laying on the floor, feeling drained from whatever spells they had used on him while he slept. Draco had done what he could, casting a pain relief spell and closing some of his cuts, but that was all he could do and Harry was still in pain and foggy, feeeling like he had hit his head too hard.

"I wish there were stars," he murmured. "What?" Draco asked, looking over at him from his place against the wall. He had been lost in thought, not paying attention to anything when Harry spoke. "Stars," said Harry. "I want to see stars." Draco nodded and a thoughtful look came over his face. He came over and lay down next to Harry. They both lay on the floor, staring up at the ceiling, lost in their own thoughts once again.

Suddenly the door to Harry's cell banged open and the little light on the wall flickered and sputtered out, also caught off guard. Draco jumped to his feet, wand out, sure it was over, but Harry stayed put on the floor, lost in a fog and unable to make himself move for anything.

Severus Snape stopped short in shock at the scene before him, Draco Malfoy standing guard over a prone Harry Potter. He shook his head, 'this can be dealt with later.' He swept over to Harry and checked him over. "Damn," he muttered when his spells told him what in all honesty he had already known. He reached into his robes and rifled through his various potions that he kept on him, searching for the right one while Draco hovered worriedly and Harry drifted in a fog.

Snape finally found the potion he was looking for and grabbed Harry, pulling him into a sitting position. Harry groaned at the forced movement, his head swimming. Snape pulled his mouth open and held the bottle to his lips. "Drink, Potter," he said in his best no-nonsense voice. Hearing that it was, in fact, Snape, Harry opened his mouth as Snape tipped the contents into his mouth. Harry swallowed and Snape watched him anxiously. A few moments after swallowing the potion, Harry's body sagged and went limp as he fell asleep, and Snape checked him over again with a diagnostic spell.

With a relieved sigh, Snape lay him back down on the floor and put the empty vial back into his robe pocket. "Severus?" asked a small voice behind him. "What happened?" Snape sighed and stood up. "One of those idiots thought it was a good idea to poison him, even though the Dark Lord expressly stated not to kill him," he growled. Draco swallowed, and Snape turned to him.

"And just what, pray tell, are you doing down here? If it had been anyone but me to come in here, you would have found yourself in a cell next to your new friend here! Draco," he took his godson's shoulders and looked into his eyes. "It's fine that you want to help him. But you have to go about it delicately. You're putting both of your lives in danger by being here, understand?" Draco nodded. "We'll get him out, it'll just take time, okay?" Draco nodded to him again.

And in the meantime our leaves will turn...

The next visit, Draco only stayed long enough to make sure Harry was okay and tell him what Snape had told him. While Harry agreed that it was dangerous, he was sad to see his only chance of companionship go. It was back to being alone...

But Harry had other problems to deal with. The Death Eaters, it seemed, were getting restless and tired of seeing him still alive. The Dark Lord wanted him broken, or some such rot, and it wasn't moving along fast enough for their tastes. Their curses were getting worse and worse, and the strong sleeping charm they would cast on him beforehand prevent him from doing anything while his body was abused.

He would wake up with his body on fire it hurt so bad, and with nothing to look forward to anymore, he was slowing falling into a state of depression. He woke up and lay on the floor, only moving when the food came, and would fall asleep knowing that he would hurt when he woke up.

It was morning or night or whatever when Harry woke one day to nearly excruciating pain. He cried out involuntarily as he opened his eyes. He couldn't move and he couldn't breathe and he hurt and he couldn't breathe and the pain and oh god...

The door slammed open and he heard footsteps and then felt hands on him, moving him. He cried out again at the movement and the pain, but before he could protest any further his head was in someone's lap and hands were on his face and some of the pain was going away and then the hands were in his hair and it felt good...

"Harry? Harry? Are you okay?" Came the anxious voice of Draco Malfoy. Harry fluttered his eyes open and looked into the wet eyes of his friend. "Dray..." he mumbled. Draco's smile was wet, too, and he shifted until they were both more comfortable. Harry closed his eyes, content, when heard Draco whisper something above him. "Harry," Draco whispered. "Harry, look up." Harry opened his eyes slowly again, and looking past Draco, he saw that the ceiling seemed to be twinkling at him.

Stars.

His stars.

Harry smiled at Draco and then fell asleep to the lull of the twinkling lights.

Caged in with a beautiful view, and I was waiting for the night when I could soar with you.