A breath taking cold steadily crept into the underground room. The condensation that had collected on the rough rock walls was slowly dripping onto the dust covered concrete floors, staining it with dark circles. It was completely empty save two stone pillars that served as foundation for the rooms above. That, and a young boy leaning against one of the pillars, his head drooped onto his chest and legs spread wide.

Harry had been in what he assumed was once a basement for nearly five days. He, thankfully, had been given food regularly through a cat-flap in the door. It was a welcome sight, even if it was usually an unidentifiable bowl of mush with odd lumps strewn throughout. Slowly, he had regained most of the strength he had lost after the previous four days of starvation. However, it was little consolation given the fact that he had spent roughly two weeks in captivity with hopes of escape quickly diminishing.

Over the last couple of days Harry could feel his disdain rising. After spending all year ignoring the fact that Harry even existed, Dumbledore had yet to send him any form of help. Perhaps the Headmaster hadn't formed a plan to rescue the boy, but Harry felt as if he was simply being used. Dumbledore was always quick on his feet, coming up with solutions in a matter of a second; this situation should be no different. The thought of it made Harry's stomach sink, knowing that the longer he stayed here the less likely it was that help was on the way.

Then there was the growing guilt that had swept over him again a few nights before, accompanied by the overwhelming grief that shook him to the core. If he had stayed put that night, listened to Hermione, instead of rushing off to the Ministry, none of this would have happened. He would be back at the castle with his friends, celebrating the end of their O.W.Ls, reminiscing at how awful this term had been, and perhaps best of all, preparing to return to twelve Grimmuald Place where his Godfather would be waiting. Instead he was trapped here, and Sirius was… He couldn't come to terms with it yet, like his brain was unwilling to accept the information as truth.

The sound of an old door being unlocked awoke him from his reoccurring nightmare, eyes misty from the usual tears. Harry, still groggy from sleep, scrambled to his feet, wiping his eyes quickly with his sleeve before returning his glasses. It was the first time anyone had entered the dungeon since Voldemort had left him there, fighting to remain concious five nights ago. Clinching his fists, heart racing with anticipation, he prepared to rush the door as soon as it was opened.

The wooden door sprang wide allowing Voldemort and a smug looking Lucius Malfoy to enter the dark room. Running at a dead sprint, Harry was inches from colliding with the smirking pair when chains sprang, snake like, around his wrists, dragging his arm painful up towards the ceiling until only the tips of his toes could brush the floor. "Now Harry," Voldemort said, a touch of laughter in his voice, as Lucius shut the door with a snap. "You didn't really think that would work did you?"

"Worth a shot," Harry snapped, his irritation rising at being mocked like a child.

Voldemort remained by the door, hands clasped behind his back as he gave Harry a piercing stare. "Today we're going to focus on the Order, Potter. Lu…."

"I don't know anything about the Order that you don't already know, " said Harry, quick to cut him off.

Setting his jaw, Voldemort dropped the smile and shook his head incredulously, obviously annoyed at being interrupted. "I don't believe that for a second, boy. You spent half of the summer in the very middle of it, so don't lie to me. Besides," the smile returned here as he motioned to Malfoy senior who was standing quietly behind him. "Lucius here will be the one to interrogate you." With this, Voldemort produced a red arm chair from thin air and sat down comfortably.

Lucius, bowing to the Dark Lord, stalked forward until he was merely an arms length from Harry. This close Harry could see the hunger in those pale, grey eyes as they searched him up and down, looking for the best place to begin. Harry could feel his heart pounding against his adams apple, as he fought back the fear that was building inside him. He knew how keen Lucius must be to have him so vulnerable, after all Harry had caused numerous problems in his once perfect life. He had thwarted his plans in his second year, set his house elf free, destroyed the prophecy he was left in charge of retrieving, and lost him his standings inside the ministry. If ever there was a person who wanted to cause Harry more pain than Voldemort, it was Lucius Malfoy.

"Well now Potter, where shall we begin?" Lucius's words were cold and drawn out, and Harry could hear the excitement behind each. Taking a glance over Malfoy's shoulder he could see Voldemort with his eyes closed, resting the bridge of his new found nose on his steepled finger tips.

"I've already said I don't know anything, or can't you hear?" Harry spat, trying his best to keep the fear from rising in his voice.

Smirking, Lucius closed the gap between them and took Harry gently by the chin. "I do hope you keep that Gryffindor spirit for a while. It will make breaking you even more exciting." He reached up with his free hand to brush Harry's long bangs from his forehead, keeping his attention trained on those livid green eyes.

Without thinking, and to get Malfoy's cold fingers away from him, Harry kicked out with his free feet, striking Lucius directly in the shins. Cursing, the man stumbled back, and produced his wand from inside his cane. Giving it a wave, Harry felt a tug on each ankle as chains shackled him to the floor spread eagle. A sharp blow came across his abdomen, causing him to puff out his remaining air. Another strike to the hip, and he was biting back a yelp. It took him a moment to realize that Lucius was hitting him with the end of his walking cane.

Taking a retreating step, Malfoy brushed his silvery blonde hair behind his ears, regaining his calm composure. "Now Potter, I need the names of every Order member you can recall," he said quietly. Pacing slowly to Harry's left, he leaned his cane carefully against one of the pillars. He seemed to be waiting patiently for Harry to answer, eyes locked tightly on the young boy hanging securely in front of him.

"I don't know of anyone that you wouldn't already know about," he answered truthfully.

Lucius took a step closer, eyes narrowing. " That may be true, but I still want to hear the names from your mouth."

"No," Harry began simpily. "There's no use in repeating them if you already know who they are."

Another advancing step. " You realize that there are endless forms of torture besides the Cruciatus curse," he hissed into the boy's ear.

"You already know! There's no reason…" Harry's voice trailed off as a glint of steel was produced from under Malfoy's cloak. A sharp point came to rest at the base of his ear and traced down his jaw line until it reached his throat. White hot fear spread over the boy as he tried ineffectively to crane his neck away.

Lucius was standing close enough now that Harry could feel his hot minty breath on his face. "Please, give me a reason to use this, Potter," the man begged, digging the point slightly under the skin, a drop of blood streaking it's way down the sharp edge.

Harry's insides squirmed at the sound of Lucius's voice. Each syllable was dripping with longing as he trailed the knife down to Harry's chest. "I'm not going to play your games, Malfoy," Harry replied a little braver than he actually felt.

Lucius, smile spread broadly across his face, gave his wand a quick flick. Immediately, Harry felt his shirt disappear and rush of cold air overtake his bare skin. Repressing a shiver, he couldn't help but take several deep breaths to steady his racing heart. He knew what to expect with the Cruciatus curse; an emence pain and then only a dull throb as the effects wore off, but a dagger was different. He had no way of knowing how deep or how far the Death Eater was willing to go with a knife or how to prepare himself for the pain. Locking eyes with Lucius, Harry defiantly clinched his teeth in a silent vow to not give him the satisfaction he was looking for. This seemed to only increase the lust in those steely eyes.

It came hot and sudden. The piercing of flesh as the blade sank through the first layers of skin like butter, sent Harry's nerves on fire. Concealing the pain was no easy feat, but Harry was determined not to give in so easily. Narrowing his eyes, he watched as Lucius never took his eyes off of his, cutting blindly. "Ready to answer yet, boy? No?" By the set glare on Harry's face the answer was clear. "Excellent!"

Blood was dripping slowly down Harry's heaving chest in streaks after several grueling minutes. Lucius, however, had moved to a new patch of skin now, carefully placing the knife tip just above the waistband of his trousers. Harry's eyes widened a fraction and instinctively tried to bring his hands down "Ah I've found a sensitive spot," Malfoy remarked, playfully dragging the knife gently from side to side.

Without thinking, Harry tried frantically to pull his hips back, thrashing against the chains. Lucius slid his long fingers to the small of the boy's back to counter this movement, digging the point deeper into the tender flesh. "That's better,"the man purred, watching Harry squirm with a triumphant look on his face. Agonizingly slow, he drug the knife that was a couple inches into Harry's skin from one protruding hip bone to another. Gritting his teeth more tightly, Harry held his breath in attempt to fight off the scream filling his mind.

With a heavy sigh, Lucius returned the blood covered knife to the holster inside his cloak, admiring his work. "It seems another style of punishment may be needed," he said in mock disappointment.

Harry forced a laugh from between his clinched teeth. "I'm surprised Voldemort picked you for this," he said, his voice hiding his pain well though slightly out of breath. He was stalling, trying to give his body time to process this pain before moving on to whatever was to come. "How many times have you failed him? Let's see, you didn't revive him with that diary a few years ago." A flash of anger struck Malfoy's face replacing that confident smile, but Harry recklessly continued. "You plead innocent after his downfall to save your own skin. Hell, you couldn't even get a blue orb from a bunch of teenagers. How could he possibly think you would be able to handle…"

WHAM!

Harry's sentence was cut short by a sharp blow to the face that knocked his head sideways. The cooper taste of blood filled his mouth and the ringing in his ears drowned out Lucius's words as he shook his bruised hand. Stars blossomed before his eyes, obstructing the dark dungeon view. "……learned some manners," was the only words Harry caught as his hearing returned.

Surprisingly, Lucius seemed to be fairly calm as he scanned Harry's face, apparently deep in thought about his next torture method. The corner of Malfoy's mouth rose, forming a sinister grin. "I find… humiliation is the best way to break a cocky attitude," he whispered, taking a step closer. Harry found something off in the way Lucius was eyeing him, something that sent a cold shiver down his spine.

Placing a cold hand on Harry's shoulder, Lucius's eyes broke away from his for the first time that night and trailed down to his belt, hand following suite as it brushed its was down the boy's scared abdomen. Fear escalated quickly inside of Harry, as his brain began to comprehend just what the older man was implying. Surely he wasn't willing to go that far to prove a point.

"There are so many things I could do to you," Lucius whispered softly in Harry's ear, his mouth barely touching the skin. Harry was looking down now, watching that pale hand come to rest on his waistband, a wave of sickness washing over him. A long finger pried the excess leather from the loop and pulling it tight, released the buckle. "Mmm I'm sure I could have you begging in a matter of minutes." He gave the belt a little tug, slowly pulling it from each loop.

Harry's heart was hammering a violent beat against his rib cage now. "I've…. you wouldn't….you can't…" The teenager seemed unable to form a thought as his mind raced with images of unspeakable acts; his scar flaring to life. He was struggling now, fighting away from that hand that was working his belt out of the last notch. With the support gone, Harry's trousers slid down an inch exposing the top of his boxers that were stained with the dripping blood from the gashes above.

Lucius smirked, a yearning look in his eyes as hooked a cold finger under the elastic of Harry's underwear. Closing his eyes, Harry's breath came in fearful gasp. He could hear Lucius laughing as he moved his finger from side to side, stretching the band away from Harry's skin. "Unfortunately, I'm bound by rules, my boy," he said, letting the elastic slap back against Harry's waist. Relief, even if it was fleeting, washed over Harry. A hand reached up to pet Harry's face gently, and he forced his eyes open to stare into his assaulter's amused face. "By the look of it though, it may be the only way to get through to you."

Giving Harry's face a small slap, the Death Eater circled around behind him running his fingernail down the boy's spine. "If you won't tell me the names, Potter, I'll just have to go down the list of members we do know. Let's see," he paused here as if trying to think of a name. "There's the Weasleys, as if that's a real asset."

Harry forced himself not to rise to the bait; instead leaving them in a tense silence. He thought of each Weasley in turn, their warm, smiling faces filling his mind; his scar gave another annoying jolt. However, the quiet was quickly cut through by a sharp snap as Lucius brought the end of Harry's belt across his exposed back. Holding back a cry, Harry felt his face flush a brilliant shade of red. Another strike, and he was biting his bottom lip unable to withhold a small grunt.

"Then there's the Aurors; Shackelbolt," SNAP! SNAP! "And that metamorphagis, what's her name…Ah yes, Tonks." SNAP! SNAP! "Who else? Alastor Mad-eye." This time Harry felt the buckle end rake across his rib cage, producing a cracked gasp from his lips. Teeth gritted tight, as another lick struck his shoulder, the metal digging deep into the skin. "We just found out about that werewolf, Lupin." Harry couldn't hold back any longer. As the buckle popped against his ribs again and again, he let out a gagged cry. The metal was beating against his already raw flesh, and each blow felt like it was tearing his skin down to the bone. This went on for several minutes as Lucius went down the line of nearly every Order member Harry could think of.

"Last of course was your dear old Godfather, but" Lucius returned to view, a wide smirk playing across that pale face. Harry felt the anger stir deep within him at the mention of Sirius. "We don't have to worry about him anymore, do we? How does it feel Potter, to have no one left and know it's entirely your fault? " Rage boiled to the surface, as he watched Lucius raise the belt back and bring it crashing down across his already bleeding chest. Screwing up his face, the boy couldn't contain the scream that broke through his teeth. Whether it was from pain or rage, he had no idea.

He wanted to hurt Lucius; tear him limb from limb, make him hurt worse than anything he had done to Harry that night. With arm and legs restrained, the best Harry could muster was a wad of blood and mucus that he spit directly into the smirking face.

It was enough to send Malfoy over the edge. "You little brat," he exclaimed wiping the spit from his face with the back if his blood splattered sleave. Advancing on the boy, hand raised, he was ready to strike when a voice stopped him.

"That'll do Luicius!"

The voice made Harry jump; in the midst of everything he had forgotten they were not alone. Looking around, he could see Voldemort was once again on his feet, and pacing slowly towards the two of them, a satisfied look to him. Lucius was quick to bow out of the way, his eyes still trained, almost fearfully, on Harry.

"I'm surprised, Harry,"said Voldemort coming to stop in front of him, hands still clasped behind his back. "That was enough to make any grown wizard spill his deepest secrets. I will admit it was invigorating watching it through your eyes; feeling all those raw emotions. You really believed Lucius was about to rape you, didn't you?" A smirk played across that new face, making Harry's anger rise somehow higher. How could he not have realized that Voldemort was inside his mind this whole time?

"Not to worry though, I got some information I was looking for just by the thoughts that popped into that beautifully simple mind of yours," he continued, placing a long finger on Harry's forehead.

"How …" Harry trailed off realizing that each Order member's face had come into his mind while Lucius was hitting him, even some he hadn't mentioned. Instant guilt washed over him, however his rage consumed it. "You bastard!" He spat, eyes livid.

"Now, now Harry I wouldn't speak to me like that; not if you want your reward," Voldemort scolded playfully. With a wave of his wand, the blood flowing down Harry front and back was wiped clean and a shirt appeared over the cuts and whelps. The chains holding him in place released, causing him to crumble to the concrete floor. Unsteady, he climbed to his feet, each movement sending blinding pain over his entire body.

"There now," said Voldemort, walking closer. "Now it's your turn." Sticking his skeletal hand out, Harry realized he was offering him his wand. Dumbstruck, Harry stared suspiciously at the man's face, waiting for the joke to come.

"My turn for what exactly?"

Voldemort's smile only broadened. "I'm giving you the opportunity for revenge, my dear boy. I want you to torture Mr. Malfoy here." His voice was casual, as if asking a simple favor; yet Harry felt there must be some mistake. There had to be a catch he was missing.

"Thanks but no thanks," Harry seethed. The longing to cause Lucius as much pain as possible was still there in the back of his mind, but something held him back. A small voice reminded him of the night he tortured Bellatrix nearly to insanity and how he had felt after seeing her barely able to stand. Shaking the thought from his head he couldn't help but notice the feeling of vexation rising to the surface. Looking to Lucius, who was standing arrogantly beside them, Harry could see that his face held no sign of fear. From the look of it, he didn't believe Harry capable of torturing him.

Something about Lucius's overconfidence drove Harry to reach out and take the wand from Voldemort's outstretched hand and examine it closely. The material was completely different from his own, making it awkward in his grasp . He could feel Voldemort's cold red eyes watching him, and Harry made the only decision possible. Raising the wand, he leveled it a Voldemort's face.

Lucius raised his wand quickly, pointing it at Harry. Instead of looking alarmed, the Dark Lord seemed highly amused. Gesturing for Malfoy to lower his wand he let out a cruel laugh. "Harry, Harry. Do really think I'd give you my wand without thinking you would try to use it against me? Come now boy, I'm no idiot."

"You could have fooled me," snarled Harry , but his hand lowered an inch. "Stupif…."

Before Harry could finish the spell a wave of images overtook him, obscuring his view. His mother yelling, pleading for his life…. Cedric lying motionless, eyes wide and glassy…..Sirius falling helplessly behind the veil, never returning.

"STOP!"

His knees buckled, hitting the concrete with crippling force. Head in his hand, he fought the overpowering agony of grief and pain as his mind tried to tear itself apart. A hand brushed through his hair , causing him to jerk away sharply.

"Now, Harry you don't want to go through all those terrible memories again do you? If you want, I can give you a taste of what I am going to do to your friends if you don't cooperate." The hand that had been gently brushing his hair before, grabbed hold and pulled him back to his feet.

Breathing hard, Harry felt as though he would be sick. Eyes on the floor, he felt Voldemort press the wand he had dropped back into his cold, numb hands. He was sure that if he tried to break it he would be forced to watch images of Ron or Hermione being tortured. "I can't use the curse," he said breathlessly. "You have to enjoy watching someone in pain and if you haven't noticed I'm not like you." Harry raised his gaze to stare defiantly into Voldemort's narrowing red eyes.

"I can see your thoughts, Harry. Are you trying to say that you wouldn't enjoy seeing Lucius in as much pain as he's caused you?" Voldemort hissed, repeating Harry's exact thoughts from earlier.

An image of Lucius standing before him, gloating about Sirius's death, floated into Harry's mind, reviving that hatred he'd felt. Griping the yew wand tightly in his hand, Harry fought between the conflicting emotions of what he knew was right and what he longed so greatly to do. Glancing back to Lucius, he stared into that smug face until a decision drove him to action.

As much as it hurt, Harry brought himself up to full height; his skin on fire. Fixing a determined look on his face, he flung the wand back at Voldemort's feet where it clattered to a stop a few inches away. "I'm not like you," he repeated forcefully. He wondered briefly if he was saying it more to reassure himself than anything else, but he quickly chased the thought from his mind, locking his eyes fearlessly with his enemy.

An unreadable expression overtook Voldemort's face, as he stooped forward to collect his wand. For a few minutes he examined the piece of wood in his hands, ignoring Harry completely. "Harry," he paused shaking his head, that black hair swaying gracefully from side to side. "I have given you every opportunity to cooperate with me, and yet I have been met with resistance at every turn. My patience has worn thin."

The boy never saw the flick of the wand, but suddenly he was being drug upwards by only his left ankle. "I have been merciful up to this point, Potter, but no more! Crucio!"

Harry felt the familiar fire spread down to his bones, as he tried to curl in on himself, thrashing violently against the invisible hold on his foot. The already ravaged skin pulled taunt against his ribs, opening the cuts anew, and sending fresh blood down towards his neck. There was no use fighting the scream that tore through his lunges, causing him to yell until his throat tore apart. He felt as if every fiber in his body was splitting, ripping, tearing itself to shreds as the curse rippled through him. This had to be it; he was surely about to die.

The curse lifted, leaving him limp; his shirt pooled around his purple face. Each breath came is short gasps as his lunges refused to expand against the pain. Voldemort was face to face with him now, his jaw set in frustration. "I'm going to give you an ultimatum, Potter," he whispered sending hot breath over Harry's sweat drenched face. "You give me what I want, or I'll collect one of your friends and let you watch as I torture them to death."

Harry felt the blood pulsing to his head, his glasses falling askew. Even after all he had been through, he couldn't repress a snort of laughter. "Good…luck…" he gasped out; each word strangled by his constricting airway. "…at…Hogwarts….." Try as he might, he couldn't form the sentence as his thoughts became fuzzy.

A sharp pain exploded across his face, accompanied by a sickening crunch as his nose collided with a powerful force. Blood flooded his sinuses, leaving him fighting for air as he coughed against the wave of copper liquid invading his throat. "You forget that there are those that aren't under that old fool's protection. Remus Lupin, for instance, is easily within our reach."

Harry faltered. He'd never even thought about those outside of Hogwarts, and Remus was indeed an easy capture. From the last Harry had gathered, he was working with the werewolves, most of whom openly supported Voldemort. Suddenly his plans diminished before him, leaving him grasping for an idea; anything to regain the upper hand.

However, before he could think of an answer, Voldemort continued, waving Lucius towards the door. "I'll give you the night to think on it, Potter. However," he stopped here, his hand on the shinning door handle. "If you refuse me in the morning, I'll be sure to have your werewolf friend here by nightfall."

With a last wave of his wand, Voldemort left the room as Harry fell, head first, onto the floor below. Through the throbbing in his ears, Harry could hear the door snap shut and knew he was alone again. His body ached with every movement as he brought himself up into a sitting position, quickly clamping a hand over his mangled, gushing nose. Now that his one defense was gone, he could feel his last hope dissipate. He didn't care what they did to him, but he couldn't stand back and watch someone else be tortured because of him.