Harry allowed himself to be led back down the stairs into the dark cellar. He dreaded the moment he would be left alone with Remus, knowing he'd try and console him. The last thing Harry wanted was consoling. Ironically all he wanted was another night of solitude.
In front of him, Lupin was shoved forward onto the stone floor and Harry entered behind him. Turning he watched as Lucius levitated the dead body into the room, tossing it lifelessly into the center where it landed with a sickening thud. Cringing away, Harry walked to a pillar and slid down it to the floor, hands wrapping around the back of his head. Neither Death Eater spoke as they left, slamming the door behind them.
Across the room Harry could hear Remus struggling to his feet. "Harry," he said breathlessly as he made his way to where the boy sat. A hand came to rest on his shoulder but Harry was quick to pull away as if it burned his skin. "Harry its alright."
"Alright?" Harry asked incredulously, raising his head to meet those gold eyes. "Professor, I just killed an innocent person." His voice was hollow, but inside disgust and anger mixed together causing his head to swim. Involuntarily, his eyes were drawn to the body a few feet away. Was this the reason Voldemort had discarded the man in the cellar? Was it meant to be a constant reminder of what Harry was capable of?
Remus sighed and sat down in front of Harry, blocking his view of the corpse. Instead Harry was forced to look at the angry blistering welp on the side of Lupin's face. A pang of guilt was added to the many emotions swirling within him. "You had no other choice. It doesn't make you any different than you were before" Lupin said, his voice full of empathy. "I know it doesn't make it any easier, Harry but you can't dwell on something you had no control over."
Harry nodded though he did not agree. He wanted the conversation to be over. He wanted to be able to forget about the terrible act he had committed. Those pleading eyes wouldn't let him forget, however. He saw them every time he closed his eyes; begging him for mercy they wouldn't receive.
Silence over took them, but Harry could see Lupin fighting the urge to say something. He would get as far as opening his mouth before deciding against it and return to wringing his hands together. Deep down, Harry prayed the words wouldn't come to him. He was almost certain the subject would pertain to what Voldemort had said about Dumbledore and Harry didn't feel like arguing his feelings. He didn't want to admit out loud the hate for the old man that had been dwelling inside him all year.
"Harry," Lupin began, finally finding his nerve. "Sirius…" His voice cracked causing a lump to form in Harry's throat. He hadn't expected to talk about Sirius, not now. It was apparent, Remus couldn't either. He quickly changed tactics. " What Voldemort said about Dumbledore…" There it was.
" I don't want to talk about it right now," Harry said firmly, laying his head back against the pillar and closing his eyes. It was evidently enough for Remus. Silence fell between them again as exhaustion over powered Harry and he fell into a restless sleep.
Over a week had passed without Voldemort's presence. Food, if you could call it that, was delivered twice a day, however, the prisoners could barely stomach it. The body that still lay in the middle of the room had began it's decomposition process a week ago and the smell of rotting flesh had filled the space. Harry knew now that this had been the real reason for leaving it with them. This was the least of their problems however.
Lupin's condition, despite the infection of the many burns on his body, had declined steadily. He had grown increasingly quiet over the past few days, unwilling to admit what they both knew was coming. The full moon could only be days away judging by Lupin's demeanor, and with the growing danger, Harry's fear grew as well. He'd imagined they'd discard of him sooner or later, but not like this. Never like this. He'd welcomed the thought of death, for the sweet relief it would bring him, but how would Remus be able to cope. How would anyone be able to live with themselves after tearing someone apart limb from limb?
Fire suddenly sprang into the lanterns around the room, signaling the approach of someone. The door opened and Voldemort, flanked by two Death Eaters, walked in. Harry made no attempt to stand, choosing instead to watch as the door swung shut behind them. He was sure that their presence could only mean trouble for him, however Voldemort pointed to Remus. "Come here, werewolf." So he still hadn't bothered remembering his name.
Remus hesitated for a minute but then reluctantly rose to his feet, taking his time as he approached the Dark Lord. Harry followed suit, coming to a stop a few paces behind Lupin. Voldemort payed him no attention, instead he examined the worn face before him.
BANG! The noise echoed deafeningly around the small room, causing Harry's ear to ringing painfully. At first confusion clouded his mind as he saw, but didn't understand, Lupin falling backwards and then the world stopped. Warm red specks covered his face and arms; blood, but not his own. How had he gotten to the floor and who was screaming?
"Oh God no! No! Remus!" Tears blurred his vision, but that didn't stop him from taking in the horrific scene in front of him. Blood was gushing violently from a hole in the front of Lupin's chest. Harry's hands were clamped tightly over it, trying to control the flow to no avail. He was sobbing, bloody hands reaching up to grip either side of Lupin's face. The former professor stared wide eyed at the ceiling above, however there was no life left inside of them. He'd been given no chance for last words, no chance to plead.
Awaking with a start, Harry felt a cold sweat covering his body. Fear still gripped his mind as the details of the dream flashed before his eyes. Spinning around, he saw Lupin curled in the fetal position across the room. A small amount of relief washed over him, but he couldn't help but remember the situation that awaited them.
Harry opened his mouth to speak, but faltered. He wanted, no needed Lupin to understand he could not blame himself for whatever happened when he changed. "Remus, whatever happens please don't blame…" His sentence was cut as the door sprang open. Voldemort ambled in, apparently alone. Crinkling his nose, the Dark Lord looked to the body in front of him and raised his wand. Fire sprang to the flaking flesh, consuming it in an instant. Harry's stomach turned, and he looked away hastily.
"There that's better," said Voldemort turning his attention to Harry. He paced forward until he was toe to toe with the boy. Lupin made to rise, but Voldemort flicked his wand without looking, causing ropes to bind him to the floor and a gag to block his speech. "I assume by now you know what is about to take place in just a few short days."
Harry didn't answer, instead he stared up into those red eyes a look of determination on his face. He didn't dare let his enemy see the fear building inside him. A smirk spread across Voldemort's face and he reached down, gripped Harry's throat, and hoisted him to his feet. "I am so glad to see you haven't lost your fighting spirit, Harry." He held him there for a minute, eyeing the resistant look Harry held before dropping his hand. "I have a job for you."
"Who said I was interested," Harry asked, his voice raspy from lack of use.
"Your other option is to stay here, trapped in this small room with a werewolf. You do realize once he turns he will not distinguish between friend and his next meal?"
Stubbornly, Harry set his jaw and glared back. He didn't want to give in, but what choice did he have? "What do you want?"
"I need for you to return to Hogwarts and retrieve the sword of Gryffindor." His tone was conversational, as if he were asking Harry to run a simple errand. Harry couldn't deny the appeal of it though. Leaving the dank prison to return to his home; it was an easy choice. Yet, Harry hesitated.
"You expect me to come back once I leave here?" He asked raising an eyebrow. "What's stopping me from telling Du… the Order everything I known?" Harry didn't know why telling Dumbledore seemed sickening, but a sharp pain had prodded him at thought of his name. He had quickly changed directions, hopefully without notice. Voldemort's smile broadened however, and Harry had a feeling the wizard knew exactly what he was thinking.
"You may tell whoever you like about what has happened here, but I do have some conditions." He paused here, clasping his hands behind his back. " First, there are two things you will omit from your testimony. The first obviously being that you were released to fetch me the sword. A simple escape story will suffice. The other is about my appearance change. I've.."
"Embarrassed by your new face, eh?" It was Harry's turn to smirk. However, the crooked smile was short lived as a hand collided solidly with his cheek. Staggering, sideways a step, Harry screwed up his face as bursts of stars filled the room.
"I've grown fond of being difficult to spot. This new look of mine makes blending into a crowd so much easier," Voldemort continued as if there had been no interruption, leaving Harry to rub his jaw. "Second, you and your friend will return to Malfoy manor any time you are summoned."
Straightening up, Harry gave him a confused look. "What's keeping me or Lupin from skipping the country?"
"The half-breed will be accompanied by a werewolf who is under my control and the threat on your health should be enough to keep him in line. As for you," He placed a long finger against the lightning scar, sending a jolt of pain across Harry's head. "You know I'm capable of seeing everything you do. If you even consider running, I'll know and the repercussions will be severe."
Harry considered him for a minute, not daring to look at Lupin who was trying to talk around the gag. Considering the choices he was given, Harry couldn't deny he would give anything to return to Hogwarts. Swallowing his pride, he gave his head a short nod.
"I need to hear you say it, Harry."
Sighing, Harry gave into temptation. "I'll do it."
A triumphant smile spread across Voldemort's face, bringing back that boyish bravado he'd once held. "Excellent. Just one more thing," Harry didn't like the hungry look that now shined in those red eyes. "You've spent a few short months in captivity and while you're skinny enough, I don't think you're broken enough."
Instincts took over and Harry took a retreating step. Fear as hot as fire washed over him as brass shackles attached tightly to his wrists, hoisting him painfully towards the ceiling. The tips of his worn trainers scratched frantically at the stone flooring, fighting for any form of traction they could find. He fought to no avail though as Voldemort closed the gap, stroking a hand through the boy's long black locks. "Did you really think you would make it out of here without me having a chance to torture you?" He tugged Harry's head back, speaking directly into his ear. The other hand had made it's way to tightly grasp Harry's throat. This was nothing like before. Voldemort was squeezing the airway closed, choking Harry with one hand. "I will have to control myself though. We don't want you dieing accidentally."
Harry fought against the hold the Dark Lord had on his hair, his mouth agape searching for any ounce of oxygen he could get. A haze started to creep into the corner of his eyes and for a minute he thought Voldemort had forgotten his objective. He was going to die. However, just as the darkness started to overtake him, rancid air flooded his mouth. He gasped until he thought his lungs would tear, a painful seam tugging at his sides. The chains supported his weight as he slumped forward, unable to catch his breath.
Through misty eyes he could see Voldemort advancing towards him, like a lion stalking it's prey. A whip with nine tails and what appeared to be thorns attached to each, swung loosely in his right hand. Fixing a defiant look on his face, Harry brought his eyes away from the whip and locked them with the shining red ones, determined not to give him the satisfaction of seeing his dismay. This only seemed to increase the Dark Lord's excitement.
Walking around until Harry could no longer see him, a voice spoke in his ear. "Let's see how long it takes for you to beg, Harry." Goosebumps spread down his back, as Harry watched Lupin struggling helplessly against the ropes holding him in place.
Without warning, lightning spread across Harry's spine. Thorns dug into flesh, ripping it away as the whip was pulled back for another stroke. Screwing up his face, Harry bit back a scream that threatened to betray him. Again he felt the snap of leather and the pull of tearing skin. Warm liquid rolled down his back, soaking into his shredded shirt. His hands curled into fists around the cold chains while his body swung slightly forward from the force of each blow.
Five licks. That's all it took to produce a sound from the boy. Letting his head roll back, Harry couldn't stop a growl from escaping between his clenched teeth. Voldemort let out a soft chuckle but continued his assault without a word.
The next strike wrapped around his hip bone, thorns embedding deep into Harry's soft flesh beneath his navel. The return tug only caused them to dig in further.
"Stop. Stop stop.."
The words didn't sound like his own. Harry gasped them out, eyes shut tight, willing the excruciating pain to stop. He didn't know if he was talking to himself, begging his brain to block out the agony, or to the crazed man holding the whip.
"I'm sorry, boy. What was that?" Voldemort asked, his voice thick with pleasure.
Harry couldn't answer, his voice faltered at the thought of begging his captor. However, with another smart tug, he melted, completely lost in the pain.
"Stop! Stop! Please! I can't…" But what he couldn't do was drowned by a blood curdling scream as the thorns dug deeper with yet another pull.
He could hear Voldemort walking around to stand before him but he could find the courage to look down at the gaping gashes along his stomach. Sick flooded his airway, and he coughed violently. His head rolled until it was resting on his heaving chest.
"Nothing is sweater than the sounds of breaking your enemy," Voldemort said. Waving his wand, he cut the cords of the whip, leaving the thorns buried beneath Harry's skin. "Now, I think it's time to return you to Dumbledore."
Harry forced his eyes to open. Blood, so much blood, was puddled beneath him. It's dark red color reflecting the scene above. He could feel it running out of his body, covering his clothing in a sticky coating. How much more could he possiblity lose and still survive?
As if reading his mind, Voldemort answered. "You will need a blood replenishing potion soon, so let's keep our goodbyes short shall we?"
The shackles holding Harry sprung open, and he crumpled into a heap in the bloody pool below. Cold fingers curled around his upper arm, dragging him limply to a standing position. He felt himself being spun and the air forced from his lungs. They were apparating, but all he could think about was not falling asleep.
Bright light burned his eyes even through closed lids. Birds chirped, and soft breeze that's smelled like sweat grass brushed his flushed cheeks. The gravel crunched beneath him as he was dropped to the ground. Opening his eyes, Harry stared into the clear blue sky. The Hogwarts gate was before him. He was home.
Rolling to his stomach, Harry winced at the pain that surged through his entire body. He pulled himself up on all fours, his sight swirled around him. Nails scraped his scalp as his head was pulled back violently.
"Remember our deal, Potter." And with a loud crack, Voldemort was gone.
With each pound of his heart, Harry was painfully aware of the blood being pushed out of his body. Grabbing the iron fence, he wasn't sure he could make it to his feet, let alone make the mile long trek to the castle steps. He had to try, however. His only other choice was to bleed out on the white gravel.
Slowly, painfully slow, he rose to his unsteady feet. His breath came in gasps as the beautiful fall light began to dull around him.
Suddenly the gates sprang apart and hurried footsteps could be heard approaching. The last thing Harry wanted to see was quickly making it way towards him, robes billowing behind and greasy hair swinging. Severus Snape, surprisingly pale at the sight of Harry's blood soaked body, stopped a few feet away.
Stumbling forward, Harry looked as if he were reaching for the Professor's help, but with all the energy he could muster, he pulled back a fist and swung it into Snape's long hooked nose. The sound of cracking bone and a shocked face were the last thing his brain processed before he collapsed forward, allowing darkness to take him away.