A steady stream of crimson cut a path down the bridge of Harry's nose, collecting on the tip before falling in droplets to the rug beneath his knees. He stared down at the spreading stain, concentrating on the way the red liquid consumed the white fibers upon contact. It was all just a distraction though; something to focus on instead of processing the scene around him. How could they have been so stupid?

‐--

At half one Harry and Ron crept down to a deserted common room, finding Hermione waiting for them in one of the chairs. She wore jeans and a dark blue jumper with a small beaded handbag slung over one shoulder. Her face was expressionless, but there was no mistaking the uneasiness in the smile she gave them.

"I think I've got everything we'll need," she said patting the bag at her side. "I've been packed for months just in case…" She trailed off, unable to finish the thought.

Harry knew exactly what she meant. On his back he carried his own rucksack which he had hurriedly filled with items he thought might come of use to them. It wasn't much, but at least he felt like he had done something to prepare.

"Are we sure about this," he asked hesitantly. A deep since of foreboding had suddenly swelled in chest .

They cast anxious glances at each other before nodding confidently.

"We can disapperate once we've reached Honeydukes cellar," Harry explained as they walked towards the porthole. "Until then we'll just have to be careful. I don't think the invisibility cloak will hide all three of us anymore."

With one last look around the warm room, he turned and pushed the portrait open.

--‐--‐--

"Answer me, Potter!"

Snape's growling demand pulled his gaze up from the rug. The man towered over him, jaw set in furious scowl that brought out every wrinkle etched across his face. Over his shoulder Harry could see Ron and Hermione, each were being held steady by a Death Eater. He shook his head in disbelief.

"I seemed to have missed the question, " Harry said slowly as if he were merely answering a Potions question.

In a flash, Snape slapped him across the cheek with a force that sent the room spinning before him. He blinked several times, trying to clear the magnificent array of stars that now obscured his vision. In his blindness, thin fingers clamped down upon his chin and pulled him back around to stare up into Snape's livid face.

"Don't play coy with me, boy," he spat, now only inches away. Tiny drop of saliva dotted Harry's glasses as he tried to yank his head free. "Did you actually think it would work?"

Instead of answering, Harry shrugged his shoulders and tried again to free his head. He remained silent knowing that whatever answer he gave would be wrong.

"Did it ever occur to you that trying to escape on the very first night might lead to more serious repercussions?"

He dropped his hand from Harry's chin and straightening, turned and advanced towards Ron. He raised his eyes to stare definitely up at the Professor, but Harry could see his lips trembling. The corner of Snape's mouth rose as he withdrew his wand from inside his cloak.

"Don't," Harry growled dangerously, but Snape was already raising his wand.

Without a second thought, and before anyone could stop him, Harry bolted forward. He wrapped his arms around Snape's chest and drove him to the hardwood floor beside the Headmaster's desk. Anger and fear flooded his veins with adrenaline as he swung his fist wildly, connecting with body parts at random. People were yelling around them, but he heard nothing except the blood pumping in his ears. He was focused solely on one thing: hurt Snape as much as possible.

A red jet of light blasted him backwards, sending him sprawling across the floor. The force drove the air from his lungs, but he knew he had to get up. He managed to rise to his hands and knees, sucking in breath after deep breath in an attempt to fill his aching chest.

Professor Snape was already back on his feet, a wild look of fury burning deep in his eyes. His hair fell in black oily curtains around his face completing the crazed persona. Two steps; it only took two swift steps for him to reach Harry and without a word he sent a kick directly into his face.

Harry's glasses were knocked across the room as the dark shoe connected with mouth. Immediately, he clutched at his busted lips, holding his breath as if it would stop the pain from coming. Sticky wet blood began to fill his cupped hand, but before he could inspect the wound another kick caught him in the chest, spinning him onto his back.

"STOP IT!" Hermione's shrill voice cut through the office, but it did nothing to stop the assualt.

The heel of a shoe dug into the center of Harry's chest pinning him to the rug. He turned his head and coughed out the liquid blocking his airway; he was becoming increasingly concerned that he might actually drown on his own blood. The foot twisted, digging the hard sole deeper into his flesh and producing a ragged cry from his throat.

"Just like your father, " Snape hissed above him, punctuating the statement with a ruthless stomp. "Always willing to risk someone else's life for your gain."

If he could have drawn a breath he would have been screaming. The weight on his ribs was unbearable now and he clutched at Snape's ankle in feeble attempt to dislodge him. It was useless, however. He could feel his bones beginning to bow beneath the weight of his Professor;it was only a matter of seconds before they gave way entirely.

A flash of light erupted from the fireplace, illuminating the dark room in a bright green glow. All heads turned to the man now casually stepping over the hearth, sweeping soot from his elegant cloak with a brush of his thin hand. His red eyes fixed on the scene before him before he spoke softly.

"Severus, care to explain?"

--

The sconces that hung on the corridor walls had long ago burned themselves out, casting the halls into an eerie darkness. The only sound to be heard amongst the overpowering silence was the soft patter of three sets of shoes as they decended the stairs. The soft taps seemed to echo off every surface despite their best efforts to minimize the noise.

Harry checked the map in his hands once again even though he had just looked at it. Besides a couple of men further down the corridor, their path was still clear. His nerves were tingling with anxiety and every sound sent his heart into a panicked flutter. Thankfully, they were almost there.

They reached the humped-backed witch without a single encounter. Harry sighed inwardly and pocketed the map. Quickly, he crossed to the statue and gave it three short raps with his wand. The password was on the tip of his tongue when the silence around them was broken.

"Alright, Potter, drop the wand."

Harry whirled around to see two men sauntering from the shadows, wands leveled at Hermione and Ron. Both turned to face the men but instead of complying, raised their wands as well. This brought a smile to one of the man's face, his crooked yellow teeth visible behind his parted lips.

"I think they want a fight, Doyle," he mocked, producing a chuckle from his partner.

They continued forward, both smilingly in amusement now. Hermione was the first to act.

"Stupify," she cried, sending a jet of red towards Doyle, who countered it with ease.

"Ooo the mudblood wants to play," he cackled. Without a word, he sent his own red spell back at her, causing them both to lunge out of the way.

No, no, no, thought Harry as he jumped down to join the frey. This was their only chance; if they didn't escape here and now he knew what was waiting. He couldn't bare to see them suffer for his idiocy.

His first spell whizzed by Doyle's ear, stopping him from advancing on Ron. The man turned his attention to Harry, his head tilting slightly before sending a curse in his direction. Harry attempted to duck, but he felt the sharp pull of something blunt against his hairline, and then the warm flow of blood oozing to the surface. He clutched a hand to his scalp, and raised his wand again but Ron was a step ahead of him.

Doyle was already on the ground, his wand a few feet away from his outstretched hand. Harry could see Ron standing above the man, a wild mixture of surprise and hatred written across his face.

"That's enough, boys."

They both turned their eyes to the other man who had Hermione held tightly by the hair, using her body as a shield. Her face was pulled in a tight grimace as she clutched at the man's wrist. Harry and Ron raised their wands simultaneously, but the Death Eater jabbed his dangerously into Hermione's throat.

"I don't think so," he growled. "Drop 'em" He motioned to the floor with a nod of his head.

There was nothing to be done. They both slowly dropped their wands to the stone floor where they clattered loudly. Doyle, still out of breath, quickly scooped them up and retreated across the hall.

"I think this warrants a trip to the Headmaster's office," the Death Eater said with a crooked smile.

--‐--

"Is this true, Potter?"

Professor Snape had finished his report of the nights events and everyone's attention returned to Harry. He had miraculously been able to pull himself back onto his knees and was now rubbing his crimson stained face with the back of his sleeve. Without his glasses everything had turned fuzzy, making it impossible to read Voldemort's expression. With a swipe of his tongue, he double checked that all his teeth were intact before giving a sarcastic smile.

"I will take that as a yes," he hissed. His hazy outline stepped forward and Harry squinted until he could make out that dangerously playful look he knew all to well. "There are only two reasons why you would have broken our agreement. The first being that you have no problem watching your friends suffer."

His voice trailed off as he stepped around Harry. Harry turned his head to the side, listening as the footsteps continued towards the door behind him. They stopped abruptly and then turned back in his direction.

"The other reason," Voldemort continued as he came back into view twirling Harry's glasses in his right hand. He crouched in front of him and set the cracked spectacles on the bridge of his nose; the office came into sharp focus around him."Is that you thought I wouldn't hurt them."

"We talked him into it," Ron said, his voice wavering slightly.

Voldemort's smile grew but he ignored the outburst. Placing his thumb at the corner of Harry's mouth, he wiped away the blood that had began to roll down towards his chin. Harry jerked away as if he had been touched by a white hot poker.

"I would have thought that after the events over the summer, you would know better," Voldemort whispered sinisterly.

With a soft pat to Harry's cheek he stood and turned to observe the other two captives. "So, which one will it be."

"It was my idea," Harry growled, finally breaking his silence. "If you want to punish someone, then it should be me."

He caught Hermione's gaze and gave his head a small shake as she opened her mouth to protest. The terror in her eyes made his chest tighten with guilt. This was his fault.

"Oh no, Potter, " Voldemort said without turning to him. "You were well aware of the rules. I think the mudblood should be first, after all it is no real loss if she dies."

He came to a stop in front of Hermione and glared down at her with a look of pure disgust. To their left Ron had begun to fight fervently against the Death Eater holding him. A simple spell dropped him to his knees as invisible ropes anchored him to the ground.

Harry made to rise from the floor, but a strong grip on his shoulders kept him from moving. He turned a furious stare upwards and found Snape looking back at him, his right eye puffy and red.

"I swear if you…" Harry's threat was cut off by a blood curdling scream.

Hermione had collapsed to the floor; her body twisted in on itself until it was wrapped in a fetal position. Her fingers were digging desperately at her crossed arms as if trying to claw away the skin beneath her jumper. Even from where Harry sat, he could see the tears striking down her cheeks from her clenched eyes.

He turned away, grinding his teeth but nothing could stop the sounds of her pained cries. They echoed off every wall in the office, rebounding around them until it sounded like they were coming from inside his own head. He swallowed back the lump that had formed in his throat but he couldn't stop the his own tears from collecting on his bottom eyelashes.

"Stop," he cried out angerly but his words quickly dissolved into pleas. "Stop, please! I'll do anything."

Voldemort's red eyes turned to him, breaking the curse immediately. There was an indiscernible look on his face, somewhere between triumph and curiosity. He left Hermione, who was desperately gasping for breath, to stand before Harry once more.

"Anything," he asked with a tilt of his head. The malicious grin had returned, warning Harry of what he was about to agree to.

Harry closed his eyes and pressed his lips into a thin line as he argued with his own sanity; 'anything' was a broad term after all. His hesitation lasted a second to long.

Voldemort spun on his heal, wand poised to strike again.

"Fine, anything…anything!" The words tumbled from his mouth without filter as he tried once again to stand.

"Harry," Ron's warning was cut off by a sharp slap from the man above him. It didn't matter, Harry knew exactly what he was going to say.

Voldemort clasped his hands lazily behind his back. "Who was on guard tonight at Gryffindor tower," he asked, red eyes sweeping the room as he waited for someone to step forward.

A young boy, not much older than Harry, edged his way to the middle of the room. His mousy brown hair fell in curls around his narrow face but it did nothing to hide the embarrassed flush on his cheeks. He stared pointedly at the floor, his hands wringing nervously in front of him.

"What's your name, boy," Voldemort asked with a hint of amusement.

"D-davis, My Lord," the boy replied without raising his gaze.

"Well, Davis, can you enlighten me on what could have possibly been more important than standing guard tonight?"

Davis shuffled anxiously from one for to another before answering in low stutter.

"I w-w-was getting s-something to eat."

The room erupted with laughter from his fellow Death Eaters, many shaking their heads in disbelief. Voldemort smiled briefly and then held up his hand, silencing the room once again.

"Doyle, give Mr. Potter his wand back," he said shortly.

The man standing over Ron tossed the wand across the room where it landed in front of Harry with a clatter. Harry stared down at it with narrowed eyes before looking back at Voldemort, brow furrowed in confusion. What was he playing at?

"I think Davis is in need of a reminder, Potter. Why don't you give it to him."

The corner of Harry's mouth quirked into a lopsided confused grin. "I'm sorry," he asked, apparently having missed something important.

Voldemort turned to him with a devilish look. "I want you to use the Cruciatus curse on Davis to remind him why its important to follow orders."

"You're kidding," Harry laughed as if he were part of some sick joke.

"On the contrary. It is either that or we can see how much longer the mudblood will last."

Harry felt his stomach turn, a wave of nausea creeping up the back of his throat. He swallowed, hoping to force it back down but the feeling remained. Looking away from Voldemort, he let his gaze fall on Hermione who was still curled into a ball, her shoulders shaking with suppressed sobs, and then to Ron who was doing his best to look anywhere else but at him.

"Come now, Potter, I don't have all night."

"You can't… I'm…"Harry's words failed him. He splayed his hands, searching desperately for somethingto say that would stop this. "You can't expect me…"

"So you want me to continue," Voldemort said as he walked back towards Hermione.

"No," Harry replied firmly. Snatching the wand in front of him, he stumbled to his feet and leveled it at Voldemort.Every wand in the room turned to him. Realizing his mistake, he raised his hands, pointing his wand to the ceiling. "I…I'll do it," he quickly stuttered.

Voldemort's eyes narrowed but with a wave of his hand his followers lowered their wands. "When you are ready then."

Harry closed his eyes and turned in the direction the boy was standing; when he opened them again Davis was looking away from him, his hands trembling at his side. Death Eater or not, it was impossible for Harry not to see a scared kid who made a terrible choice cowering before him.

"I can't-" Harry began, ready to explain his inability to torture someone but Voldemort closed the gap between them and, grabbing Harry's wrist, forced him to raise his wand.

"Enough stalling," he hissed impatiently. With his other hand he seized Harry by the back of the neck and held his head steady. "All you have to do is keep eye contact and say the curse. "

Harry's hand began to shake but those abnormally pale fingers that were wrapped around his wrist like a vise kept his aim true. He took in a shaky breath and forced the word from his clenched teeth.

"C-crucio."

It came out in a stumbling stutter that was quickly overtaken by a chorus of howling laughter from the small group of Death Eaters around the room. Harry's heart was pounding furiously against his chest as he watched the boy in front of him look up hesitantly before casting his eyes back to the floor.

"Last chance, boy," Voldemort whispered dangerously.

A heavy weight settled in his chest, but he knew there was no other option. For Hermione's sake he had to see this through. One more deep breath and he settled his gaze determinedly on Davis.

"Crucio," he growled.

A bright flash erupted from the end of his wand and Davis doubled over, hands coming up to clutch at his side. It began as low whine but as the boy dropped to the floor, he began to shriek in agony. He tossed his body back and his head struck the polished floor with a gut wrenching thump; once, twice, three times it happened before Harry could stomach it no longer.

He turned, breaking eye contact with his victim, and heaved what little food was left in his stomach onto the rug. A cold sweat had broken out across his forehead and he closed his eyes to the sickening cackles and jeers that had swept over Davis's cries. How could they be so cruel?

"There's a good lad," Voldemort praised him. His hand patted Harry mockingly on the back as be addressed the whole room. "Everyone return to your duties. Doyle and Pratt, take those two back to Gryffindor tower, but be discreet. We don't want to worry the other students."

There was a sudden bustle of commotion around them. Harry straightened, trying to make eye contact with Ron and Hermione, but Voldemort quickly spun him into the soft cushioned chair across from the desk. The red eyed man then perched himself on the edge of the mahogany top and watched as the room emptied. Only when the door had been shut with a sharp snap did he turn his attention to Harry.

"I am going to give you a final warning, Potter," he said slowly, all hint of amusement now gone. He leaned forward placing his hands on the armrests on either side of Harry. He was so close that he could feel the breath wash across his face with each word."Pull a stunt like this again and I will kill the girl. No bargaining, no substitutes, no mercy. Do I make myself clear?"

Harry's jaw locked and his nose crinkled in a defiant scowl, however he nodded nonetheless. There was no use in arguing.

"Say it," Voldemort ordered coldly.

"Got it," Harry mumbled.

"Not good enough, Potter."

Harry knew what he was looking for but he couldn't make the words come out of his mouth. It was like surrendering.

"Yes, sir," he spat with as much sarcasm as he could muster into words.

The Dark Lord's eyes narrowed but he seemed satisfied nonetheless.

"Now, I think you owe Headmaster Snape an apology, " he added with a crooked grin.

Snape was standing to the left of his desk, hands folded behind his back. The red skin beneath his eye had changed to a deep purple though the swelling remained. Harry felt a twinge of satisfaction and his scowl shifted to a sneer.

"I'm not apologizing for anything," he replied confidently.

Voldemort gave a high laugh and pushed himself away from the desk. "I guess I will leave that up to you, Severus, " he said as he threw a hand full of floo powder into the orange flickering flame; it burst suddenly to life in a vibrant green roar. "Until next time, Harry." And with that, he was gone.

Harry continued to stare at the fire that had returned to its lazy dancing yellow. A wild idea ran through his mind as he watched sparks sputter from a collapsing log. It was crazy, but maybe just crazy enough to work.

"You may go, Potter."

Snape's words cut through his thoughts and he blinked around in his direction. The man had retaken his seat behind the desk and was eyeing him impatiently. Without a word, Harry stood and walked to the door but suddenly froze, fingers resting on the door handle.

"How do you live with yourself, " he asked turning to look at the man. "I can see why my mother hated you." Without waiting for a response he left, slamming the door behind him.

Since I can't reply to comments on Fanfiction, I'll try and answer everyone's questions here.PearlM21: I'm not going to answer any of your questions for certain reasons, but I will say that I love the way you think. Thank you so much for the comments and speculations!Volespirit69: Thank you! I'm not sure how many chapters it will be; initially it was only going to be a one shot torture fic.Thymiancat, Gemiss, Stacy Damato, Sanmarie, James, and Guest: Thank you guys so much for the reviews! I'm glad you like it so far.