Unbeknownst to him, Harry had been under the 'sick' potion for almost 24 hours. It had been some of the most miserable hours he had ever been under, and that is saying something.
The pain it had triggered kept Harry from getting any sleep. Although half the time, he was delirious. Not having a clue in the world where he was during these phases. He couldn't even remember anything that had happened right after the Death Eaters, or rather Snape, had forced the potion down his throat. Snape was practically sitting on him by the time he had poured the potion into Harry's pried-open mouth.
It had taken six death eaters to hold him down, two more to pry Harry's jaws apart enough to let Snape slip the potion through Harry's mouth.
He had them quickly clamp Harry's mouth shut, plug his nose, and tilting his head back so he would swallow. It took only a few seconds for the potion to work. Harry broke into a cold sweat over his entire body, shivering uncontrollably, head pounding in his ears. His temperature rose and eventually, within a matter of minutes, Harry was completely unaware of where he was, energy gone and drained. He would eventually stare hallucinating many of the terrors that he feared.
Snape had taken the very delirious Harry back to his cell. They would wait 24 hours, before giving the antidote. That much time, they hoped would weaken him enough to give them information. If not, Snape would administer the 'veritaserum'.
Tomorrow night was also the night Snape would be putting his life on the line for someone he didn't even care for; or so he thought. Snape had been keeping a close eye on Harry, making sure he had something to eat and drink everyday, trying to calculate the extent of his injuries, so Madame Pomfrey would be ready for anything and everything. He checked up on Harry only on Albus's orders. He would pay Harry visits, when he was deep in sleep, to have some kind of assessment to report back to Dumbledore.
More than once, Snape would feel something in his black heart stir, every time he had to check the teen over. He had nearly been sick when he first saw the whiplash wounds on the boy's back. He had nearly had a heart attack when he realized the boy had a fractured skull at one point.
Luckily the Potter boy had never woken up when Snape was in the middle of one of his examinations. These were extremely dangerous, if Voldemort ever found out, he would most definitely put two-and-two together and Snape would bet 100,000 gold galleons that he would guess what was going on.
Snape knelt down next to Harry and pulled a vial filled with what looked like a black potion. He gently lifted the boy's head, pulling the stopper of the vial out with his teeth and put the vial to Harry's lips.
Snape could see that the antidote had started working as soon as it reached the boy's throat.
To Harry, who had felt that he had been in a huge oven, while being run over by a train then being chased by a thousand dementors, already felt the antidote begin to work. It was a cool sensation to the oven. Almost like water putting out the fires all over his body. It spread over his face then around the back of his head, down to his arms, torso, reaching to the tips of his toes. It gave him energy to step out of the way of the train and strength for his patronus to chase away the dementors.
Harry was only given a few seconds of relief before the old aches and pains hit. The potion had, thankfully cleared his mind. Marry groaned when he tried to take a breath, his broken rib and his bruised ones kept him from taking a full breath.
Snape helped him sit up as harry started to cough.
"Potter, you are to come with me. The Dark Lord requests your presence."
Harry stiffened and croaked out some rather inappropriate names and labels.
"Watch your mouth. If we weren't in this situation I'd scourgify your mouth out. Now up you get Potter."
Snape stood and pulled Harry to his feet. He swayed a little as a wave of dizziness came over him. Snape held his upper arm to steady him. "I'm going to be a little rough Harry, to keep up appearances so play along." Snape grabbed him to get a firmer hold on Harry and led him out of the cell. Harry let him, for he was still slightly dazed, the puzzlement over Snape's comment showed on his face.
Harry's legs felt like jelly as he walked down the corridors with Snape. ''What did he mean, keep up appearances?' Harry thought as they turned down yet another corridor.
They did not have long to go before they reached the room which only had a chair positioned in it.
Snape threw Harry, none too gently, in the chair. He waved his wand; ropes leaping out of it and snaking around Harry's waist and feet tightly to the chair. As an afterthought, Snape's waved his wand again, tying Harry's wrists to the chair as well.
"Harry Potter," came the high cold voice off to Harry's left. "I will give you a choice," Voldemort knowing full well they would give Harry the Veritaserum whether he cooperated or not. "You can either tell us right now what the Prophecy is now or Severus will be giving you a dose of Veritserum to drag it out of you."
Harry sat there with his jaw shut not saying a word, glaring murder at Voldemort. He was not going to make easy for any of them.
Voldemort obviously got the hint, and nodded slightly to the formally unseen Deatheaters. Two of them came up behind Harry and grabbed his face, trying to pry his mouth open. Harry just gritted harder. Another Deatheater, Bellatrix, at what Harry heard snarled in a disgusted voice to the other deatheaters to get out of the way. They instantly let go, and before Harry could blink, something connected hard with the side of his dace, causing his neck to whip to the side, and a gasp to escape his lips. Snape pounced on the opportunity, before Harry realized he had let his mouth open, Snape yanked his head back by his hair and poured a disgusting tasting substance down Harry's throat, plugging his nose in the process. The instant the vial was drained, Snape clamped his mouth shut. Without being able to breathe, Harry was forced to swallow.
The effect was almost instantaneous; Harry's eyes glazed over as he relaxed a bit and his mind was wiped of any worry or thought. He sat up a little when someone spoke to him.
"Mr. Potter, Would you be so kind as to inform us of the contents of the Prophecy?"
Harry turned his gaze to the speaker, and replied, "yes." Harry sighed loudly and continued in a long monotonous voice. "The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches…Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies…And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, he will have power the Dark Lord knows…And neither can die at the hand of the other for both must live,.. The one with the power to vanquish the dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies…" harry blinked the glazed look still over his eyes.
The room had gone completely quiet when Harry had begun, but as soon as he finished, the broke out in numerous furious whispers; steadily growing louder. When the discussions became close to shouting matches, Voldemort shouted, "SILENCE!!"
Instantly the room went quiet. The room stayed that way for several seconds before Bellatrix spoke up barely above a whisper, "Master…"
"I want everyone out except Severus." He snapped sharply. They all filed out like disobedient children sent to their rooms. When the door closed behind the last Deatheater, Voldemort motioned to Severus to join him on the other side of the room, away from Harry. They spoke in hushed whispers for awhile.
The glazed look, meanwhile, was leaving Harry. Near the end of the discussion Harry was back to his old self, well what he was before he was given the 'veritaserum'.
He could catch a word here and there of what they were saying, something about "Him…alive…could use…Draught…. Living Death." Harry had no idea what they were talking about other than him. 'Draught? Living Death?' He had heard that somewhere before. Harry thought hard, trying to remember where he had heard it.
He was still trying to rack his memory when Snape and Voldemort broke out of their conversation, both turning to Harry. Snape's lips curled once again into a sneer as he spoke, "Tell me, Mr. Potter, what would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"
Harry swallowed as he felt the blood drain from his face. No, no, no, no. This is bad. They wouldn't. They would put him to sleep for all time!
"No." Harry whispered unconsciously, his eyes wide.
"Yes, Potter, very good. I see I didn't waste all my time on trying to teach you things no one actually paid attention to."
Harry was wriggling furiously trying to loosen the cords that were wrapped tightly around him.
Voldemort laughed at Harry's futile attempt to free himself. "Severus, be my guest, and give the boy what he is squirming for." Seeing as he could not free himself from the cords, he would fight or all it was worth, giving Snape a hard time in the process.
He clamped his mouth shut again, though his jaws hurt like mad from when Bellatrix had slapped him.
Snape reached into his cloak and pulled out three items. "You can either drink this," Snape held up a vial filled with a violent violet colored potion. "Or we can do it this way," he held up a syringe and the vial of creamy white potion.
Harry swallowed hard, his tongue felt thick in his mouth. He swallowed again. He didn't want to do the latter, but he didn't want to drink the stuff either. If he drank it, he was almost positive that the draught would start working as soon as it touched his lips, but yet the other would be much more painful. This would also work quickly, as it would immediately hit his bloodstream. 'Maybe, I could act like I'm going to drink it and I'll drop the bottle to shatter it! Then I wouldn't have to take it! Snape wouldn't think of bringing a second vial would he?' Harry was not completely sure if Snape would do this, but he was willing to take his chances.
He swallowed again and looked up at Snape, "I'll drink it." Snape waved his wand and the ropes disappeared. Harry made to get up, but Snape pushed him back and pointed his wand in Harry's face. He handed the potion to Harry. Harry uncorked the vial and made to bring it to his lips. Harry's lightning fast quidditch reflects helped him as he threw the vial as hard as he could toward the floor. As the vial made contact, it shattered into a million pieces.
Voldemort looked annoyed by this and Snape looked closer to pissed. "Well, potter since you obviously don't want, we'll have to do it the hard way." Then to Harry's horror, Snape pulled out a second vial of the violent violet potion and the creamy white potion as well as the syringe. Harry gulped, paling considerably. Snape waved his wand again and the chair Harry was sitting in reclined placing Harry on his back, his eyes wide with fear. Snape ignored them conjuring ropes to coil back around Harry.
Snape turned from Harry as he began to slowly move the contents of the vial into the syringe. He placed the empty bottle back inside his cloak and pulled out the vial of creamy white potion.
Snape grabbed Harry's wrist, forcing it out flat. He uncorked the bottle with his teeth and poured a drop onto Harry's arm. The potion hissed as it made contact with Harry's skin a small stream of blood-red smoke coming from it. Snape clasped Harry's wrist tightly and inserted the needle.
As soon as the needle touched his skin, his arm exploded into unbearable pain. Harry screamed and screamed try to wretch his wrist out of Snape's iron grip, but it was in vain. Harry screamed louder still as, truth be told, blood vessels were erupting all up and down his arm, mounting the pain to a crescendo.
"Make it stop! Make it stop!" Slowly the potion started to work, making him feel drowsy. Then he felt himself going numb all over. The screams died as Harry slipped into an unconsciousness he was sure he would never wake from again.