James rolled over restlessly, proceeding to hit his head against a soft, squishy something. He groaned, and sat up slowly, rubbing his eyes groggily. He heard Sirius mirroring his actions from beside him.
He blinked as his eyes adjusted to the unfamiliar room, and the events of the day flooded into his mind. Suddenly, he jumped up, grasping through his robes in an attempt to find his wand.
"They've taken them. Our wands, that is."
James whirled around at the unexpected voice, and was shocked to discover Professor Potter there. Remus was slumped over in the corner of the room, not appearing to have woken. Sirius was sitting up with narrowed eyes, assessing the situation with an almost Slytherin-like attitude.
"What are you doing here? Why are we here? What happened?" James asked in a rush.
"I don't know why you're here," he lied. "I don't know why I was taken here, but I know why they kept me here."
James shot him a questioning look, and Harry added, "I have some history with the Death Eaters." He glared at the floor.
"Care to elaborate?" Remus had woken, apparently.
"Not especially."
Sirius jumped in. "How long've we been out?"
Harry shrugged. "'Bout an hour, give or take."
The four teens span around at the sound of approaching footsteps. An unfamiliar Death Eater observed them through the thick lead bars on the wall, before grinning.
"I see that our honorary guests have awoken. The Dark Lord has called for your audience, and who am I to deny such a request?" He hissed tauntingly.
The Death Eater drew his wand and, with a muttered spell, the bars disappeared. More hooded figures appeared, and each of them grabbed one of the teens, using their wands to conjure robes which proceeded to be bound around their wrists.
The group were lead up numerous staircases, before finding themselves dragged in front of a set of large oak double doors.
The Death Eater who was grasping James stepped forward and rapped his knuckles thrice on the door.
After a curt "Enter," from inside, the doors were thrown open, and Harry along with the other captives found themselves being shoved into a large, overly-grand room.
What really drew Harry's attention was the high chair situated in the centre of the room- a throne, Harry realised with a jolt. Or rather, who was on it.
The Dark Lord sat stiffly on his throne, crimson eyes slitted in a cunning way as he observed the scene before him. Nagini sat at his feet, curled up as tight as seemingly possible.
Slowly, a menacing grin settled upon Voldemort's face.
"How charming. Harry Potter, how charming to see you again," he hissed, his seemingly innocent words laced with a hidden threat.
"Tom," Harry acknowledged, smiling internally as he saw the angry gleam in Voldemort's eyes.
"What a pretty picture: one big, happy family, whole again. Although, it appears we are missing someone." He turned to a Death Eater who stood on guard by the door. "Where is the Evans girl?" He growled.
The Death Eater looked mildly ashamed. "Our source was unable to locate her," he said, wincing as he noticed the Dark Lord's eyes darken.
"Never mind," Voldemort hissed, though Harry could clearly see the disguised anger in his posture. "Why should we need her, when I have all I need right here?"
Harry stepped forward unconsciously, so that he was positioned between the Marauders and Voldemort. "You don't know what you're getting yourself into, Tom," he snarled.
Voldemort laughed: a cold, empty sound that was devoid of amusement. "Oh, I really do, Harry Potter. Come closer, I wish to see your face as you lose your family yet again."
Harry stood his ground in defiance.
"You will regret this, Potter," Voldemort snarled. "Crucio."
Harry fell to the floor as the agonising curse hit him straight in the chest. White hot knives gouged his flesh and his every nerve was suddenly set aflame. Or so it felt.
Harry lay still on the floor, refusing to give Voldemort the satisfaction of his screaming. He could hear the distant sound of James, Sirius and Remus gasping. They had never witnessed the affects of the curse, only the theory behind it.
After what felt like an eternity, the curse was lifted, and Harry shakily stood up, finding himself facing directly into the heartless eyes of Voldemort, gleaming with a fierce satisfaction.
"You will return when you are in a more compliant mood. Yaxley!" The Death Eater who had brought them in stepped forwards and dragged the four teens out of the room with the assistance of several other masked figures.
Harry collapsed as he was thrown into the familiar cell, and he found himself under three pairs of concerned pairs of eyes. Surprisingly, Remus was the first to speak.
"Are you alright?"
Harry nodded slowly, though in reality that was quite the opposite of what he was feeling. His body groaned in protest as the cold stone floor beneath him.
"What was he talking about? About your parents?" James asked curiously, though his eyes contained a hint of concern.
"My parents died when I was a baby," he said, eyes turning to the floor as he felt tears prick at them. "It's a long story."
"Luckily, that seems to be just what we have right now," Sirius offered, failing to disguise his curiosity.
Harry shook his head. "You don't want to hear it. And I don't really want to talk about it."
Sirius ducked away guiltily, and Harry rolled over to face the wall as he felt tears begin to slide down his face. He wished more than anything that he could tell them.