Chapter 7: Enter into illusion
Harry must have drifted off because when he awoke, he found himself slumped against the wall in his cell. He ached all over and shivered from the cold dampness that surrounded him. He looked around him hoping that today he would get out of here. That was when he saw it.
The heavy wooden door stood wide open and beyond it lay his wand. Wary of some sort of trick, Harry eased himself off the ground and crept cautiously toward the door. When he reached the threshold, he glanced cautiously around the corner, whipping his head back inside the cell almost immediately. When no curses flew, he poked his head out again. The hallway was empty. Silently, he bent down and grabbed his wand.
"Lumos." He muttered. Slowly, he ventured down the corridor towards a set of stairs. The silence was deafening but he kept his pace. At the foot of the stairs he paused. "Homenum Revelio." Nothing. Harry still didn't let down his guard. Wand at the ready, he proceeded up the stairs, but no sooner did he reach the top than the man stepped out in front of him. Harry shouted a curse at him, but his wand had turned into a rubber carp. He barely had time to contemplate this before the man pushed him down the stairs.
Down Harry fell, each stone step causing him a great deal of pain. He felt bones break as he fell and knew this would seriously hurt his chances of getting out of here. Everything faded to darkness when he landed as Harry lost consciousness.
When he awoke, Harry was back in his cell, the firmly shut. He remembered very little of what happened, but felt remarkably little pain considering he had fallen down a flight of stairs. Perhaps his abductor had healed the worst of his injuries he hoped. He struggled to get up. Pulling himself into a sitting position, he tried to raise himself to his feet. That was when he looked down and noticed that his legs were missing. He felt around where they should be. Clearly they were invisible he thought. They couldn't be gone. They just couldn't. His hands went to rest on his invisible legs and went straight through to the floor.
Harry's barely suppressed panic suddenly escaped him in a long, drawn-out, terror-ridden scream. He screamed and screamed until his voice was hoarse and he was gasping for breath. How was he supposed to get out of here with no legs?
Taking deep, calming breaths, Harry dragged himself to the door. He grabbed a sharp stone from the floor and began digging at the wooden door. There was no way he was going to die here, Harry thought. He chipped away at the door, splinter by splinter, never stopping for a moment. His family needed him and he needed them. When his hands began to bleed, he dug harder. No matter how many blisters he got, no matter how many times they popped painfully, he needed to see his children. He needed to see his wife, to be held in her arms and comforted. He couldn't let this madman stop him now.