Voldemort watched with baited breath as Yaxley administered the antidote to the draught of living death. Harry would wake and at last he could begin turning him to the Dark side. After much reflection Voldemort had determined that the initial conversion efforts should not come from him. He and Harry had too fraught a history for anything from him to be well received. Yaxley on the other hand was far less threatening and Harry would be far less likely to dismiss his words as the lies of an enemy.
Voldemort chafed at delegating such an important task, but he trusted that Yaxley would do it justice. After all, the man's story was a perfect example of the fallacy of the Light and of the evils of their stance on magic. He hoped that it would be enough to plant the seed of doubt in the boy's mind.
He watched, hidden once more beneath a powerful disillusionment charm, as the boy woke. His eyes were obscured by his hideous glasses. He would make sure the boy accepted eye corrective treatments from Yaxley. Voldemort watched in fascination as the boy continued to show no fear despite being made aware of his captivity and the fact that he was disarmed in a room with an admitted death eater. The boy was indignant, not afraid. He thought it fitting that his vessel should be so strong willed. It wouldn't do to have his horcrux cowering in the face of his followers. He would be above them when he accepted his place in the Dark.
When Yaxley left without letting the boy question anything. He was at first annoyed at him for not having pressed the point or forced the boy to confront the truth of the Light's lies. But the dumbstruck look on the boy's face followed by the pensive frown as the boy reflected on the encounter showed him that Yaxley had the right of it. The boy needed time to think if he was to ever accept his new circumstances.
As if the boy were aware of his thoughts he suddenly shook out of his reverie and began searching the room. Voldemort was surprised it had taken him this long. If he had ever awoken in a strange place as the captive of his nemesis the first thing he would have done would be to access his surroundings. Miraculously and amusingly the boy had yet to notice the ouroboros necklace around his neck which was his true cage much more so than the four walls that surrounded him.
Voldemort's fingers scratched along the scaled edges of his matching bracelet. He was desperately tempted to toy with the boys magic. To get a reaction out of him. To make himself known. But he knew it would be counterproductive to his long-term goals. If the boy knew that he had been present for the discussion with Yaxley he would dismiss everything that he had been told as the puppeted words of his master.
No, the Dark Lord Voldemort could be patient. In time, the boy's loyalty would belong to him.
0~0~0
Harry watched dumbstruck as Yaxley swept out of his room as though they were not in the middle of a heated conversation and he had not just made earth shattering accusations that threatened Harry's world view. Harry knew this wasn't over. He had no doubt the Healer, Yaxley, would return and make more attempts to sway Harry. The man had suggested that they would be frequently in each other's company. The man did not seem evil. His motives for joining the Dark Lord, if true, were at least understandable.
Perhaps with time Harry could gain his trust and enlist his help in escaping. It was really the only hope he had at present. His wand had been left behind at the graveyard. He had no control over his accidental magic, and even if he did he didn't know the first thing about ward breaking. He had no way of contacting Dumbledore or the Ministry and for all he knew they may have already written him off as dead. Three months was a long time to be missing. Harry couldn't rely on the hope of being rescued. If he wanted to get out of this mess he was going to have to do it himself.
Harry mused on what this meant for his behavior going forward. If his most tangible hope of escape was befriending Yaxley than he would need to quell his animosity towards the man for his allegiance to the Dark. Harry would have to at least put on a facade of cooperation if he was to have any hope of extricating himself from this situation. Could he do it? Could he be friendly to a death eater. Could he pretend to be receptive to the man?
Harry wasn't an idiot. It was obvious enough that Yaxley had been trying to soften Harry to the ideals of the Dark. Whether his representation of the Dark's goals was accurate remained to be seen, but Harry knew a recruitment pitch when he saw one. He had seen his uncle Vernon wine and dine enough potential clients to spot the nuances of a pitch.
Harry had mixed feelings about the man's story. He had never given any thought before to the fact that some branches of magic were illegal. That was just the way it was and naively Harry had never question whether it had always been so.
Harry had also never given any thought before to whether or not there was a wizarding religion. Though upon this revelation it made sense that wizards wouldn't subscribe to the main stream religions which called for their damnation. He tried to think of any exceptions, did he have any religious classmates? He thought Anthony Goldstein might have been Jewish, but then realized that he had no basis for assuming that other than his last couldn't think of anyone who had expressed any Christian sentiments. Though he supposed that made sense. Surely any devout Christian family would refuse to allow their child to go off to a boarding school of witchcraft and wizardry.
Though that just made him wonder about Hogwarts rejectors. Did they just continue to do accidental magic throughout their adult lives or did their magic settle when it matured, allowing them to successfully live as muggles? Did the Ministry obliviate families who rejected Hogwarts to protect the Statute of Secrecy. He bet Hermione would know. Somehow having an encyclopedic best friend had drained Harry of this drive to find information for himself. He had never thought to feel curious about these things before. Harry felt ashamed of his own indolence. Four years he had lived in the wizarding world and he knew very little outside of what was spoon fed him by the Hogwarts curriculum. If Yaxley was being honest and the Ministry and Dumbledore truly had censored Hogwarts than Harry had left himself vulnerable to indoctrination and ignorance.
He couldn't help but sympathize with the injustice that religious practices were carelessly banned by the Ministry's fumbled attempts to thwart Grindelwald. Were people actually imprisoned for practicing their faith or were their books and artifacts just confiscated or destroyed. He really wished that Yaxley had given him an opportunity to question things. Though he supposed that was likely the point. Yaxley wanted him to come back for more. Wanted him to seek out more information.
Whether he was being blatantly manipulated or not Harry was troubled by Yaxley's description of the culling. The notion that the 'good guys' could have regularly engaged in such an awful act, that his own father could have been involved… he didn't want to believe it. Harry had learned about wars during his muggle primary schooling. He wasn't a stranger to the concept that war was ugly and that neither side walked away with clean hands. Merlin knows Britain's history was steeped in blood. But somehow Harry had never applied that concept to the wizarding war. He had been happy to believe that his parents had been paragons of virtue and that they had died as martyrs for righteousness. If that was all a lie… Harry shook himself. It was too soon to be taking Yaxley's words at face value. He would not allow his entire feelings on the war to be reordered by one conversation with a stranger of dubious loyalties.
Harry could be friendly without being blindly trusting. Harry wasn't sure he was a good enough actor to pretend he was willing to entertain the idea of joining the Dark Lord, but as the alternative was likely death he was damn well going to try!
With a fresh resolve not to cave into despair Harry decided to assess his situation. Harry, having never been kidnapped before and certainly never have been kept in such luxury before, wasn't sure what to make of his surroundings. He removed books from the book shelves and lifted candles out of wall sconces all to no prevail. No doors opened, no hidden passages presented themselves, Though on reflection that was hardly surprising. If this was intended to be a prison cell it wouldn't make sense to have back exits out. Harry did not bother trying the door that Yaxley had exited through, it seemed too obvious and he was worried that it would be cursed should he touch it.
When the promised meal arrived he ignored it. The elf, Mipsy, stood sentinel beside the table with the dinner tray. Likely she had been ordered to stand by and make sure he ate something. He was not of a mind to do so even if he did feel bad for the house elf, who could hardly be blamed for having such a horrid master. Eventually his hunger made him cave in however.
After two hours of futilely searching the room for hidden weaknesses, though still not trying the main door, he was finally forced to acknowledge that for the time being at least he was stuck here and starving himself would serve no purpose other than leaving him weak and less able to make a successful escape attempt should the opportunity present itself. He would eat and stay strong, and he would plan for escape.