Time no longer held any relevance. Minutes felt like hours, hours like days. It was nearly impossible to discern what day of the week it was or even what day of the year. However, relevant or not, time was against the boy who lay beaten and bruised on the cold cellar floor. Somewhere above, the sound of a ticking clock that chimed every fifteen minutes mocked him as he battled with the options that lay heavy on his mind. The only interruption from his solitude had came nearly an hour after Voldemort had left him in a crumpled heap. A Death Eater, Dolohov if he wasn't mistaken, had dropped a plate of scraps inside the door before quickly retreating. Harry had made no attempt to reach the food despite the gnawing of his stomach.

Against the screaming protest from his body, Harry now pulled himself into a sitting position. His t-shirt clung to the seeping gashes across his abdomen and back. The room was a fuzzy black pit around him, his glasses lay broken somewhere beyond his grasp. However, he did not care to see.

Images of Lupin being tortured flooded his mind as he fought the urge to be sick. He couldn't let that visualizations become reality, but on the other hand he couldn't bring himself to torture another person, no matter how cruel they might be. What he wouldn't give to have the energy to stand and pace the room. Anything would be better than sitting there helplessly trapped between the impossible decisions.

A soft click cut through the silent room as the locks on the cellar door were disengaged. A squirm of panic coiled inside him as he tried frantically to establish a plan before Voldemort entered the small room. The sound of footsteps never came though. Waiting, silent and still, Harry listened for any sign of approaching danger, but all was quiet. Raising his head slightly, the boy looked towards the door to find it standing agape.

Confusion mixed with excitement flooded his body. It's a trap whispered the small voice inside his head, but he paid it no mind as he unsteadily rose to his feet. Retrieving his mangled glasses, he placed them lopsidedly on the bridge of his swollen nose. Still no one entered the room. Cautiously, he approached the door expecting at any moment for someone to spring out and restrain him. However, no opposition came as he reached the landing of the stairs outside the cellar.

Harry mounted the solid steps and as quickly and as quietly as he could he ascended into the hall above. To his great relief it was also deserted. Tiptoeing the dark walnut flooring, the boy peered through the first set of heavy doors he came to. Inside he found a poorly lit sitting room, the dieing embers of a fire were smoldering in a grand fireplace. Above the mantel a gaudy mirror reflected the parts of the room he could not see from the doorway. His heart skipped a beat as a figure came into view apparently asleep in one of the high back chairs. Holding his breath, he slipped past the opening and continued his search for an exit.

There were several doors along the corridor, most leading off into different wings of the house. After each door, Harry felt his panic rise a little more. He began to wonder just how big Malfoy manor could be, and if he would ever be able to find a door leading outside. Yet, just when his anxiety was about to peak, he found his escape.

Opening a door slowly, he peered inside to find what appeared to be another drawing room but unlike the first, the back walls seemed to be made of glass. Hope swelled inside him as he quickly entered and shut the door behind him with a soft click. Ignoring the elegant paintings that adorned the high walls, Harry sprinted across the room, hurdling a small coffee table. He pressed his hands against the cool glass, squinting into the darkness that consumed the lawns beyond the doors. He could see rain pelting down in sheets over tall hedges in all shapes and forms. A burst of lightning illuminated what the shadows had been hiding, and to Harry's dismay he could see the wind tearing violently through the trees. This is your only chance a voice reminded him and with that small piece of encouragement, Harry slid open the heavy door.

The cool summer air tore through his lungs as he took in several deep breaths of the first fresh air he'd had in months. Rain washed down upon his face, and he couldn't resist opening his mouth and taking in two deep gulps. He'd forgotten what it felt like to be alive.

A deafening noise broke through the howl of the wind, startling him back to reality. Screeching filled the night air and it took Harry a minute to realize that the door must have been charmed to alert of any intruders. Above, flickering lights began to spring into windows as the residents were awaken by the sounds that reverberated around the lawns. Harry knew he only had minutes to act.

Turning, he sprinted off of the patio and into the soft wet earth. His feet slipped through the mud as he raced around the hedges. The only thing could think to do was run. If he kept running straight he would hopefully be able to find a place to hide or a town he could take refuge in. Without his wand he stood no chance of fighting and had no way of apparating to safety. Shouts of anger resonated behind him and Harry knew they had taken chase.

Lightning streaked across the sky and a booming roar of thunder shook the ground beneath his feet as adrenaline pumped through his legs. He knew it was the only thing pushing him forwards now. Ahead in the momentarily brightened garden, he could see a towering fence that lined the edge of the property. Atop the iron rods were sharp points which would make climbing difficult. However, he knew he could accomplish it. He'd once scampered up a tree to keep Aunt Marge's dog from chewing his leg off. This should be no different.

A flash of red light grazed his arm, leaving a gash along his bicep. Weaving from left to right, more spells whirled by him as he neared the fence. He was almost there! Planting his feet firmly in the wet soil, he sprang cat like onto the slippery metal, his hands closing like vises around the icy bars. A moment of triumph was all he was allowed before a white hot bolt like lightning shot through his entire body. He convulsed for a minute, unable to pry his hands from the bars, before being launched backwards.

Landing with a splash, Harry could feel his body shaking as the electricity coursed through his veins. He was sure he could feel them melting inside him as he prayed for the pain to stop. Somewhere behind him footsteps approached slowly, the Death Eaters seemed to know he was no longer a threat. A figure now loomed over him, reaching down to haul him to his feet, but a cold voice stopped them.

"I wouldn't touch him yet, Yaxley," drawled the voice of Lucius Malfoy. "Not unless you want a taste of the electrifying curse that's been placed on the fence."

"I'll levita…"

"I'm fully capable of handling this, Bellatrix" Yaxley snapped, cutting across Bellatrix Lestrange's offer. Harry could feel his body being lifted out of the puddle and jerked roughly around. His eyes opened slowly and he was staring up into the downpour of rain.

"Ooo someone doesn't want the Dark Lord finding out they were sleeping instead of keeping watch," Bellatrix mocked in a soft voice.

" What we should be worried about,"Lucius began, apparently cutting off another retort from Yaxley " is how the boy got out of the cellar in the first place."

They were moving now, Harry's body floating carelessly behind the three. He could feel the curse leaving his body as the pain subsided to a numbing tingle. The sense of failure and dread filled him, as they neared the door he had burst through minutes ago. He had been so close. What would they do to him now that he had been feet from escaping?

Without warning his body dropped onto the wet cement. It hurt, his whole body did, but he couldn't afford to give up. Rolling onto his stomach, Harry clambered onto his hands and knees and made to sprint off again. A rough hand attached painfully to the back of his neck, pushing him face first into the veranda. "Still fighting I see, Potter." Yaxley's voice was a deep growl and Harry could feel himself being pulled along to the edge of the porch. Fingers wove into his long black hair and pulled his face upwards. Yaxley was kneeling beside him, his mouth inches from Harry's ear. "Let's find out what happens to those who attempt escape on my watch."

Suddenly, his face was plunged beneath an icy flow of water. Harry placed his palms down on the slippery flooring and pushed against the restraining force to no avail. His lungs, already tired from the run , burned as they fought for precious oxygen. Above he could feel a knee digging into his back making it, if possible, more difficult to move. His head was jerked backwards again, and he gasped for air. Around him he could hear arguing, Lucius commanding Yaxley to stop, and Bellatrix demanding a turn. The water he inhaled caused him to cough violently, waisting what little time he had before his head was forced back under.

The grip on his scalp tightened, riping his hair from side to side and then the cruciatus curse over took his body. Pain, so different and yet just as awful as the electricity, ran through him. Yaxley removed his hand as the boy thrashed over onto his back. A scream broke through his white clenched lips as Harry tossed his head back, yelling into the rain. His back arched and the remaining breath he had was gone. Blackness was overtaking him; he was suffocating.

Lucius could be heard yelling over the sound of the wind and Harry's screams. "Stop Bellatrix! We have orders…"

"This brat tortured me at the ministry. The Dark Lord will understand," she said, her voice full of hatred.

"Will I, Bellatrix?"

The high pitched hiss brought an end to Harry's anguish, and he rolled to his side, coughing and retching. Voldemort was speaking again but the ringing in his ears drowned out the sounds around him. He clutched his ribs as his breathing became steady again and his hearing returned.

" and bring Dolohov to me. He is apparently incapable of locking a door and must pay for his ignorance ." Voldemort took a step closer to Harry now, stooping until his face was shielding Harry's from the rain. "Have you had your fun, Potter? Did you think it would be that easy to get away?"

"I…almost…" Harry tried to form a sentence but his lungs didn't seem to be able to expand.

Voldemort laughed and shook his head. "You would have never made it past the fence, dear boy. Now, I think it best if we continue this discussion in the drawing room." Returning to full height, Voldemort motioned for Lucius and Yaxley to pull Harry to his feet.

He was dragged roughly upwards and for a minute he was afraid his feet wouldn't support his weight. To his surprise he was relatively steady given the amount of pain he had been put through over the last twenty four hours. A wand prodded him in the back, and he proceeded to follow Voldemort across the threshold.

Ahead of him, the Dark Lord gave his wand a wave and his cloak dried immediately. He assumed the three behind him were doing the same thing because there was a momentary relief from the wand being kneaded into his back. Harry wished he could do the same. The damp clothes were heavy on his body, making it uncomfortable to move.

Turning into the first sitting room he had looked into earlier, Harry felt a warmth rush over him as the light of the newly stoked fire came into view. Death Eaters were now sitting in several of the high back chairs around the lit room, but it was the figure kneeling bound on the hearth rug that drew his gaze. Remus Lupin's head had snapped up at the sound of the opening door and Harry had only a fleeting glimps of his fear filled eyes before he was shoved painfully to his knees before Voldemort.

Tapping his wand against the palm of his hand, Voldemort eyed Harry for a minute before speaking. "I'm glad I went ahead and had the werewolf brought here tonight. Your escape attempt tonight can not go unpunish…"

"No!" Harry shouted, making to rise but found a hand holding him in place. He struggled anyway, throwing his shoulders from side to side.

Voldemort turned his back on the boy and pointed his wand at Lupin. The golden eyes met Harry's and Remus gave him a short shake of the head before the curse hit him. Lupin's body began to shake as he fought the urge to scream. He had curled in on himself, his face barely an inch from the floor. A roar ripped from the man's throat and gave way to full crys seconds later.

Harry could no longer take it. Forcing his way to his feet, he charged forward reaching an outstretched arm for Voldemort's wand. Strong arms wrapped around him, one hand grasping the fabric of his wet t-shirt the other intertwined in his hair pulling his head back. A soft voice spoke in his ear, it's excitement unnerving. "I don't think so, Potter." Lucius Malfoy breathed. "Let's see how long your friend lasts." The more Harry fought, the tighter Lucius pressed him against his own body.

"Stop, please!" The words were out before Harry had time to comprehend their meaning. Voldemort raised his wand, breaking the curse and turned to look at Harry again. A small murmur broke out among the spectators. Lupin was crumpled on the rug now, his chest heaving in each breath.

"Say that again" the Dark Lord whispered, a cruel smile upon his lips. When he saw Harry's hesitation he made to turn again.

"No! I said stop…please." The last word hurt like fire burning its way up his throat. Against his ear, he could feel Lucius's lips brush him as a triumphant smile formed on his face. Harry tried to pull his head away, but the man's grip clutched tighter.

Voldemort closed the distance between them. "I'm glad to see you are finally learning some manners, boy. However," he paused, eyes fixed on Harry intently before turning and pacing back towards Lupin. He came to a stop at the open fireplace, his long white fingers wrapped slowly around an iron poker resting in the leaping flames. " I don't think we're quite there yet."

Panic overcame Harry, and he began to struggle again with renewed vigour. "No! You can't…"

The Dark Lord smirked as he pulled the red hot steel from the inferno and brought it down inches away from Remus's face. Lupin instinctively pulled away, but with a wave of his wand Voldemort conjured a black collar and metal chain which he pulled taunt, dragging the man back into place. There was another burst of laughter from the watching crowd.

Anger replaced all panic inside Harry as he tried to slam his head backwards into Lucius. "Stop, you bastard! Just stop!" Hate and rage boiled out of him as he cried out but it did him no good. Voldemort was pressing the poke to Remus's face now, smoke rising from the blistering skin. The smell of burning flesh filled the room along with the agonizing cries, and Harry felt bile flooding his throat. This was his fault.

Closing his eyes tight, he tried to block out his senses. Voldemort's voice rang out over the yells. "Look at me, Harry or I'll continue down his body!" Harry forced his eyelids apart to see Voldemort pulling the poker out of the fire again and placing it on Lupin's back. The man howled, arching away from the pain but there was no escape. His shirt was smoldering now, leaving holes where the fabric had burned into the bleeding skin.

"I'll do whatever you want," Harry yelled out, his voice ringing over the jeering.

Voldemort studied him for a minute before pulling the poker away and tossing it back into the fire. Remus was coughing, trying to catch his breath, but he managed to lift his head to give Harry a warning look through teary eyes. Shame washed over Harry, and he quickly looked away. This is the right thing he told himself.

"Whatever I want?" The question lay heavy in the air between them. Harry knew that it was a broad statement. There were so many things Voldemort could want of him; so many things he knew himself incapable of doing. However, given the circumstances he could see no way around it. He nodded against the pull of his hair.

A victorious smile broke out over his captors face. Voldemort motioned towards something in the back of the room and Harry could hear a scuffle break out. Lucius relinquished his hold upon the boy, making him stumble forward a couple of paces. Straightening up, he saw a man in tattered clothing being drug by two Death Eaters to kneel before him. His eyebrows raised slightly. He had no idea who the man was, but it appeared to have been several weeks since he'd bathed or had a proper meal.

"I have only one simple request, Harry. Well, for now." The words drew Harry's eyes away from the cowering man on the floor back to the red ones staring hungerly at him. Voldemort was standing, arm out stretched, offering Harry a wand. "Kill the muggle."

Harry felt his mouth go dry as his stomach sank to the floor. As if far away, he could hear Lupin yelling at him but his words were drowned by the pounding of his heart. Voldemort made no attempt to silence him. " That…that wasn't the deal," Harry said feebly.

The wizard merely shrugged and clasped his hands behind his back. "Given your prior disrespect, circumstances have changed. If you wanted a vengeful cause, you should have tortured Malfoy when you had the chance."

Harry's eyes flicked from the offered wand to Lupin struggling against a Death Eater. Their eyes met and he could see the pleading they held. "You can't do this, Harry. You're not a murder..umph" The sentence was cut short by a punch that sent Lupin's head to the side.

A clash of thunder shook the house as the storm roared back to life. Inside a storm was clashing inside Harry's mind. Without him realizing, Voldemort had come to stand behind him. He pressed the dark wand in Harry's hand and leaned close. "Kill the muggle or I kill the half-breed."

"I can't," Harry said barely above a whisper. "You have to want to for the spell to work."

Voldemort sighed into Harry's ear sending a shiver down his back. "It will work out of necessity. You may not want to, but you have no other choice."

Anxiety had reached a boiling point within him. Glancing around the room, he looked into the faces of the Death Eaters watching apprehensively. They were no longer laughing, their faces only held caution now. Was it because Harry was holding a wand? Did they think him capable of defeating everyone in the room single handedly?

"If it helps, this man was found wandering the streets of a nearby town. Who are you morning for, Potter?" The tone was callous as if the man's life were worthless. "He has no family or friends. He won't even be missed. By all means, you're doing him a favor."

Harry gripped the unfamiliar wand tighter and raised it level with the strangers face. The old man's mouth was agape but no sound emitted from it. However, there was no need for him to say anything. The fear and begging in his eyes said it all. Closing his own, Harry drowned out the sounds around him. Remus's shouts, the rumble of thunder, the collective noise of a dozen people waiting anxiously to see what he would do; all seemed to melt away until he was standing alone in an empty room. No, not empty.

Kneeling before him was Bellatrix Lestrange, that sadistic grin pulling her face into a crazed look. She was taunting him, her voice echoing from every side. "I killed him," she said with a cackling laugh. "I'm so glad I was the one to kill my traitorous cousin."

Hatered consumed him and he could feel it pushing him forwards. That voice, the same one he'd heard at the ministry, warned him again of that thin line. Her goading voice overpowered it though; driving him to raise the wand over his head and bring it crashing down with a cry. "Avada Kedavra!"

Through his eyelids he could see the flash of green light, hear her body hit the floor. Satisfaction over took his anger and his lips twitched into a lopsided smile. Cheers erupted around him, and a hand gripped his shoulder sending a spark of pain through his scar. With fluttering lashes, he opened his eyes to the horrific scene before him.

The vagabond lay in a heap on the hard wood floor, eyes wide staring ahead at nothing. They no longer held any fear or pleading, but the lifelessness behind them sent a wave of ice through Harry's body. The room closed in around him, his breath coming in struggled gasps. The wand he'd used slipped from his numb fingers as he turned and retched; his empty stomach heaving the small amount of bile from it's depths. A hand patted him gently on the back as Voldemort bent to retrieve the wand Harry had abandoned.

"Good job, Harry. See how easy that was." The joy in his voice was sickening.

"Easy,"Harry croaked, whipping the spit from his mouth. "I just killed someone!" Oh God, I just killed someone. Inside his thoughts were frantic, but on the outside he was rising to full height. "Why would…what was the point of any of this?"

Voldemort looked down into the youths face, a smile spread across his lips. "Just a small test of your nerve."

"A test? This isn't a game! These are people's lives you're destroying!" He was yelling now, hands shaking with rage.

"Am I any different than Dumbledore?"

"Dumbledore…" Harry faltered. Casting his eyes to his feet, he thought of all the times Dumbledore had withheld the truth from him. How many times had he known Harry was in danger but let things continue in order to get a certain result? Did that make him just as bad as Voldemort? "He's never killed anyone just because he could."

"Directly, maybe not, but inadvertently how many have lost their lives for Dumbledore's gain." Voldemort's voice was conversational, holding no malice for his enemy.

"Don't listen to him, Harry. Dum.." Lupin's sentence stopped abruptly as a muzzle appeared, strapping tightly around his face. Howl's of laughter broke out around the room but were quickly silenced by a wave of the Dark Lord's hand.

"It doesn't matter to me how you choose to view your Headmaster, however I ask you Harry; how has he treated you this past year?"

Harry thought of all the instances where Dumbledore had purposefully avoided him. He thought of how he'd abandoned him at the Dursley's, forbidding anyone to give him any information. How he'd left him to learn Occlumency, the one thing that could have prevented Sirius's death, from a man who despised him. The disdain he'd felt all year for the Professor rose again inside him.

"I would even go as far as to say that your Godfather's death could have been prevented if Albus had taken the time to teach you Occlumency himself rather than putting his trust in someone who had proven time and again his dislike for you."

A slight shift behind Voldemort caught Harry's eye and he lifted his head slightly to see a greasy haired man sitting cross legged in one of the chairs. Snape had been there to see everything, but worse of all this this meant Dumbledore knew where Harry was. Uncontrollable, all consuming fury, for Snape but more importantly for Dumbledore, spread through him like fire. Setting his jaw, he fixed his face with as much hatred he could manage in one look, staring deep into those pit like black eyes before raising them to Voldemort. "Are we done?"

Voldemort eyed him thoughtfully for a minute, head tilted slightly, before nodding. "If you're ready to return to the cellar, you and the werewolf may go." With a lazy wave of his wand, the muzzle and chains we're removed from Lupin. A Death Eater roughly pulled him to his feet, gripping his arm tightly, ready to escort him to their holding cell. Lucius stepped forward and painfully gripped Harry's upper arm. Jerking his arm away, Harry fixed Lucius with a loathing stare before following Remus from the room "Oh and Lucius, take the body down to the cellar as well."