Harry blearily opened his eyes. The night before, he has gone to his bed after the clock suspended on the wall had read eight. Hedwig has 'asked' to go to the owlery. The dungeons weren't a place for an owl, after all. After that, he really didn't have anything better to do, so he decided he would go to sleep to test whether his occlumency barriers would hold up while he was asleep. He hadn't had any dreams about Voldemort and his nocturnal prowls, so Harry decided it was a success.

He stretched, waking Nagini, who was stretched out beside him. "Army-Leader, are you okay?" she asked drowsily.

Harry nodded."I jusssst got the bessssst night of ssssleep I've has in a while." Well, that wasn't exactly true. He had some disturbing dreams about something that was bright silver, and giggly, sinister laughing. It wasn't much, and it obviously wasn't a dream from Voldemort, because his scar wasn't even tingling. He shouldn't worry either Nagini or S-Severus about something as trivial as nightmares.

He climbed out of his bed slowly. He needed to use the bathroom, and thankfully, there was one on the other side of the room. He opened the door, and entered the restroom. It was nice looking, the same color scheme as the rest of the house. He did his business, washed his hands, and went back out. He sighed and walked over to his dresser, shivering. If he had thought the dungeons were cold in the afternoon, it was nothing compared to the chilliness in the morning.

He picked out a gray jumper and black trousers. What he wouldn't give for a pair of jeans! He quickly changed clothes, jumping from the freezing floor back onto his bed. He wrapped himself with his blanket. Man, it was cold!

He took a deep breath, resolving to get up. He threw the quilt off and trekked over to his closet. He pulled out a cloak, understanding why Severus wore heavy robes all the time. He was still getting used to using the man's first name. It sounded strange on his lips, like it was something he was forbidden to say. Or think.

He replaced the blanket with the black fabric, warming instantly. He sighed in contentment. Then, he realized that Nagini hadn't moved from her spot on the bed. Alarmed, Harry walked forward to check if she was okay.

Her eyes were closed, and he held a hand out to touch her scales. They were ice cold! Now frightened, Harry asked, "Nagini! Are you okay? What issss happening?"

The snake blinked her eyes open. At least she was alive. "Sssso… cold…" she managed. Harry forced himself to calm down, lest he have a panic attack.

He took his wand from the nightstand, and held it over Nagini. He cast a warming charm on her, but it just bounced off of her. He had to duck because it rebounded at his head. Grrr, Harry thought. Magic-repelling scales. I forgot. In many dreams, he had witnessed many a spell backfire on the caster, trying to attack the huge serpent. Then, another charm came to mind.

He remembered something Professor Flitwick said earlier in his Hogwarts career.

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The tiny professor walked across the front of the room, in full lecture mode. Harry, who was in third year, was dozing off, drifting in and out of consciousness. He hadn't got that much sleep the night before, thanks to Ron tossing and turning, silently mourning the loss of his rat.

Suddenly, without warning, he snapped to attention at what something Flitwick was saying.

"... and, if you ever have the need to levitate an object that repels magic, you can do the feather-light charm just the same. The spell doesn't affect the outside of the object, it makes the object itself lighter. Now, say with me- per fusorius."

Somehow, Harry knew that this information would help him in the future, he just didn't know when.

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Thankfully, he now knew that lesson could possibly save his snake's life. He re-pointed his wand at her, and said the incantation. "Per fusorius." Harry couldn't see the effect the spell had on Nagini, but he could test it. He quickly attempted to pick up the serpent, and sure enough, the ten-foot creature was as light as a feather.

He wrapped Nagini around his torso under his cloak, applying sticking charms in various locations. He could feel her coils tightening as she warmed up. Her head rested on his shoulder as Harry stuck the end of her tail to the top of his foot.

"Thank you again, Army-Leader," Nagini whispered.

"No problem," Harry replied, grunting. The snake was very lightweight, but her mass was also very restrictive. He glanced up at the clock. It was eight twenty. He wondered if Sn- no, Severus was up yet. He walked out of the bedroom, and sure enough, the potions master was sitting at the table, a book in his hand. He came over and sat at the table, and Severus looked up at him.

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Severus was sitting at his circular dining room table, reading an interesting book about potions theory. He absently wondered if Po- no, Harry, would be up by his set time. He closed his eyes as he remembered what he had seen the day before.

Harry, wrapped with the one living thing, other than the Dark Lord, that would be the most likely thing to kill him on the spot. Harry, in a room full of bloodstains. Harry, apparently sleep- deprived and nightmare-haunted.

But, he refused to feel any empathy for the boy.

Right?

The worst part was, Severus had gone through something similar as a young child. His father was a strict disciplinarian, sometimes bordering on the edge of abuse, but it was nothing like what Harry had gone through in his fifteen years of life.

He opened his eyes once he heard footsteps coming down the hallway. Sure enough, it was Harry, and he glanced down at his book to make it seem as if he had been reading. Severus discreetly glanced at the clock across from him, and his eyes flicked down. Eight twenty. Not bad. Then again, the Dursleys would have gotten him up much earlier than this, considering the obvious laziness that permeated every surface of that house.

He heard something sit down across from him. It was obviously Harry. He looked up from his book, and immediately knew something was… off. He was wearing his cloak, for one, and his body seemed lumpy.

He frowned. "What, exactly, do you have under your cloak?" he asked.

Harry fidgeted. "Well, Nagini was getting cold, so I put sticking charms around me for her to share my body heat."

Did he hear correctly? Was that ginormous, 90 kilogram snake wrapped around him? How did he manage to walk anywhere?

"Oh," Harry said, sensing his bewilderment. "I also did a feather-light charm on her."

Severus suddenly felt foolish. He leaned back in his chair, breathing out slowly, and regaining his composure. Casting off this latest event, he asked, "What would you like for breakfast?"

He looked surprised that he had asked. "Oh… erm, I would like a piece of toast," Harry replied.

He called out a house elf's name. "Juggle!" he barked. A split second later, a crack rang through the room, and Juggle popped into the room. "Bring some toast for Harry, over there." Severus pointed to him, and she nodded.

"Yes, Master Snape," she said in a squeaky voice. The house elf apparated away, and Severus looked back at Harry.

"Yesterday was rather hectic, so you have an excuse for missing dinner. However, you will be required to eat three meals a day from now on." Harry nodded, and he thought that was the end of that. "I wish to speak with you about your dream yesterday." He watched as the boy's face blanched.

"So… you did read what I wrote." He sounded hoarse.

"Yes, I did. I believe you mentioned the wards around Number 4 Privet Drive falling," Severus prodded.

"Sir, you have to believe me, I did see them planning it, and-" Harry started.

"Harry," he broke in. "Did I not tell you to call me by my first name?" He watched as the boy's- no, young man's- head dropped to his chest. "I do believe you. I also know that the Dark Lord is suspecting a spy in his ranks, but I am one of his most trusted servants." More like slaves, his conscience said.

Harry looked more relaxed after that statement. "But what are we going to do about the Dursleys?"

"I thought you would be less concerned about the welfare of your Aunt, Uncle, and cousin," Severus commented.

Harry looked thoughtful for a second. "Well… I don't think anyone deserves to die like that… not even my Uncle Vernon, though he did… you know." He seemed to shrink down on himself, and Severus saw a pink tongue flash out to touch his cheek. That seemed to bolster him, and he continued. "At the end, Dudley wasn't so bad. He cleaned my wounds for me, at night."

He had never seen this 'Dudley' with his own eyes, but in his mind, he pictured an extremely overweight teenager with blond hair. "What made him 'bad' earlier?" Severus asked.

"Well…" Harry seemed to have trouble with continuing. He glanced down. "Dudley and his gang used to participate in something called 'Harry hunting.' I don't think you need any clarification on what that implies," he said, fiddling with his fingers on the tabletop.

Severus was secretly astonished at his vocabulary. Why didn't he use this type of language in his essays? he wondered. He didn't voice this question, seeing that Harry was feeling uncomfortable. Usually, this didn't bother him, but he didn't want him to close up on him. He thought he remembered something along these lines due to last year's occlumency lessons.

The house elf returned with the toast, offering it to the young man. "Master Harry, Juggle has returned with Master's toast."

"Thank you," Harry automatically responded, picking up the plate.

The house elf looked astonished. "Master Harry is so kind! Thanking a lowly h- house elf like- like Juggle-" she broke off, huge blue eyes tearing up.

Severus resisted the urge to laugh when Harry looked up, alarmed. He couldn't, however, completely keep the smirk off his face. "Don't just sit there!" Harry mouthed, trying to gently peel off the now sobbing house elf. His smirk split into a wide grin, and he couldn't help a small chuckle escaping his lips.

When Harry started glaring at him, he finally intervened. "Juggle, we all know how gracious Harry is, but you need to go back to the kitchens."

Juggle slowly unwrapped her arms from Harry's robes, not noticing Nagini, who was curiously watching the entire scene. "Yes, Master Severus, I is sorry for losing control. Not many people thanks a house elfs, you know." She apparated away, giving Harry one last adoring look.

Harry looked fuming. "You know you could have stopped that from happening, right?" He took an angry bite out of his toast.

"Yes, but it wouldn't have been as amusing."

"So, you do have a sense of humor." He still looked sour, but not as angry as before. "I think many people were starting to think you didn't."

Severus flicked his wrist. He leaned back into his chair, making it groan. "Well, I do find your attempts at writing potions essays funny. It is quite therapeutic to write scathing comments on the margins of your homework." Harry looked stunned. "Yes, I can tell a joke," Severus griped.

Harry quirked up a side of his mouth. He started to stroke Nagini's head on his shoulder, looking more relaxed than Severus had ever seen him. It was probably because he was one: wrapped in his snake, and two: not being attacked by Severus' verbal barbs. He tried not to think of how relaxed Harry would feel if the Dark Lord were killed.

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Harry ate another bite of his toast. He hadn't been just angry at Sn- Severus, for not intervening, but because of the obvious emotional neglect of house elves in general. It reminded him of himself, how he was treated at the Dursleys'.

He was still petting Nagini on the top of the head. "So… what are we going to do about the Dursleys?" Harry asked.

Severus looked pensive. "We will tell the headmaster about your dream. We will follow his judgement, whatever it is."

"Is he in the castle?" Harry asked.

Severus nodded. "He should be. After you get finished with your toast, we can go up to the headmaster's office."

Harry swallowed the last bite of his toast. He already felt so full. He didn't want to know how he'd feel after three full meals. He stood up, whispering to Nagini. "We'll be going to Dumbledore'sssss officccce to tell him about the dream." Of course, the serpent had seen the entire dream, as usual. Harry wondered if Voldemort ever slept. He seemed a bit… nocturnal.

They both silently walked from the kitchen to the front door. Portrait? Whatever. Harry turned to look at Salazar, and there he was, lounging in his picture frame. He waved, and Harry waved back.

"Please tell me you aren't waving to that talkative portrait," Severus grumbled.

Harry chuckled nervously. "Guilty as charged?"

Severus shook his head in exasperation. "What will I do with you?" he muttered.

They finally made their way to the headmaster's office. "Cauldron cakes," Harry said. The two gargoyles leapt aside, revealing the stairway to the room. They both stepped next to the huge bronze eagle, and they ascended. After a few quiet seconds, the eagle's wings slid over to reveal the office.

Harry wasn't sure that Dumbledore would be up that early, but sure enough, there he was, sitting at his desk, smiling at them. He pushed aside some papers as he said, "Harry! Severus! To what do I owe this pleasure? Surely here have not been complications yet?"

Severus made a small noise. "It depends on what one calls complications, headmaster."

Dumbledore, with his ever present twinkle, asked, "What ever is the problem?"

Severus motioned for Harry to continue. ""Well, I guess you have read the pieces of paper I gave you yesterday, right?" Dumbledore nodded. "Erm… I had another dream. I fell asleep on the couch, and Voldemort-" Severus made an almost undetectable flinch- "was planning on attacking Number 4 Privet Drive, since the blood wards fell. I'm guessing that was because I no longer think of it as home, right?" Dumbledore steepled his fingers and nodded again. "I also dreamt that Voldemort was suspecting a spy in his inner circle."

"You know what that means, Severus?" Dumbledore asked gravely.

"Yes," he replied, monotone. Harry wondered what on earth was going on. He resolved to ask once they got back to Severus' quarters.

"Sir, what are we going to do about the Dursleys?" Harry asked.

Dumbledore raised his chin from his fingers. "There still is a twenty four hour guard around the house, and will alert me the second something out of the ordinary happens. I knew the second Professor Snape entered Number 4 Privet Drive." Then, he looked confused. "Why would you be so worried about the lives of the people that… did this to you."

Harry shrugged. "Se- Professor Snape asked something like that earlier." Dumbledore smiled, obviously noticing the name slip-up. "I'll just tell you what I told him. I don't think anyone deserves a death like that… not even Vernon."

Dumbledore didn't look surprised. "Has anyone told you that you are too good for this world, Harry?" he asked.

Harry blushed and shook his head while Severus snorted.

Then, the headmaster's brow crinkled. "Harry, my boy, what is that under your cloak?"

Harry wordlessly touched the top of Nagini's head, and she rose from his robes. Harry saw Dumbledore's right hand instinctively twitch towards his wand, but it stilled just as quickly.

"They have become quite inseparable," Severus commented.

"Yes, I can see that," Dumbledore murmured.

Suddenly, a blaring sound filled the office. The headmaster, alarmed, sped toward a mirror that Harry hadn't noticed before. Surprisingly, Tonks' face filled it, and she gasped, "Dumbledore! No time to explain, but there was a sighting of You-Know-Who at the Dursleys' house!"

Dumbledore frowned. "I'm afraid we were expecting this," he replied, and Tonks' face vanished from view. Dumbledore turned around and rushed toward his desk, grabbing a couple of items.

Harry heard a commotion behind him. Severus had doubled over, clutching an arm to his chest. "Headmaster," he groaned. "I have been called." The headmaster nodded gravely, and Severus ran from the room, throwing the door open in the process. The slam of the office door seemed to reverberate through the now silent room.

Harry, head still reeling from all of these consecutive events, said, "Professor, what can I do to help?"

Dumbledore threw a traveling cloak over his shoulders. "The best thing you can do, my boy, is stay out of danger."

Harry immediately objected. "No! I can help! I can fight!"

Dumbledore looked unconvinced for a split second, the twinkle vanishing from his eyes. Then, he seemed to resolve something in his mind, and Harry braced himself for a solid no.

The actual answer was the exact opposite from what he'd been expecting. "Yes, Harry you may come. But-" he said, upon seeing Harry's hopeful face, "you need to take Nagini from around your body. If I'm not mistaken, feather-light charms only last for thirty minutes at a time. And, you shouldn't have that hindrance in the middle of a battle."

Harry didn't even ask how Dumbledore knew what spell he had used. He released the sticking charms around his body, making the serpent slide to the ground. She was just fine, now that they weren't in the cold dungeons, but she still complained bitterly.

"You know that feather-light charmsssss only lassssst for half an hour, Nagini. And we get to fight The Forsssssaken One!"

Nagini perked up immediately. "Oooh, really?" she practically purred. "I can't wait to ssssee hisssss expresssssion when he noticccccesssss me."

Harry chuckled.

"Harry, if we want to make it to the battlefield in time, we have to leave now!" Dumbledore said urgently.

Harry nodded, and beckoned Nagini to follow them. They ran all the way from the hallway outside the headmaster's office to the front gates, pure adrenaline powering him. Dumbledore was barely out of breath while Harry panted and skidded to a stop beside him. He refused to feel humiliated.

Harry picked up Nagini since the feather-light charm on her would be active for another five minutes. He quickly draped her around both of their shoulders, and they apparated to the front sidewalk of Number 4 Privet Drive.

The scene in front of them was quite an image to behold. There were robed and masked figures, attacking a band of aurors in broad daylight! They were holding off the Death Eaters with bands flashes of light.

Dumbledore rushed forward to help. Harry, meanwhile, took his serpent from his shoulders.

Then, a Death Eater noticed him.

He pointed and shouted at him, causing a few of the black figures that weren't in direct combat look over to him. Harry had to throw up a quick shield, envisioning his occlumency barriers as well. Five Death Eaters advanced on him, casting curse after curse at his weakening shield.

Thankfully, he wasn't called the best Defence Against the Dark Arts student for nothing. He managed to reinforce his shield while casting a few spells at his opponents, disarming one, and casting a well-aimed cutting curse at another.

Nagini had managed to slither away, out of sight, until she appeared out of the grass in the middle of two of the robed figures. She struck one of them in the leg, causing blood to go everywhere. The other two Death Eaters turned their attention away from Harry, and started to frantically cast spells and curses at her.

That turned out to be their fatal mistake. Nagini released her hold on the first man and lunged out to bite another Death Eater daring to try to harm her hatchling. Harry cast a stupefy at the other, causing him to collapse where he stood.

Nagini unlocked her jaw from around the second man's throat. She grinned, baring her red teeth. "Ugh… their blood tasssssted bad…" she muttered.

Harry chuckled. Only Nagini.

Then, he saw something from the corner of his eye. A flash of stark white in the shadows around the house. Harry's brows went down.

"Wait here, Nagini," Harry said slowly. She cocked her head to the side in confusion, but stayed put as Harry walked over to where he had seen it, wand still out.

He tiptoed slowly into the dark sideway. He pressed himself against the wall to make himself less noticeable as he inched forward. The darkness seemed almost oppressive, now that the sounds of the battle behind him were somewhat muted.

There was the sound of fabric swishing, and he suddenly got pinned even closer to the wall. His vision swam before him, black dots appearing before his eyes. He blinked a few times, head spinning, before his vision cleared.

When it did, Harry wasn't sure he wanted to see anymore. There The Forsaken One was, in all this snake-faced glory, pinning him to the wall.

"Oh, Harry…" he whispered sinisterly. "I didn't expect you to be here."

Harry didn't have time to call for help. Voldemort chuckled, and with a crack, they apparated away.(A/N: I was tempted to leave it here too… but I won't…)

He went through the tube sensation again. Somehow, it was worse than all those other times, and once they got to where they were going, Harry collapsed where he stood, not getting the chance to see his surroundings.

Apparently, that was Voldemort's idea, because once he was down, Harry heard a stupefy cast, and everything went black.

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The entire wizarding world was in a frenzy.

Apparently, Harry Potter himself had gone missing in an attempt to protect Number 4 Privet Drive. Albus Dumbledore, headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry refused to comment to any press. "Did he suspect a spy?" "What will he do to retrieve the Boy- Who-Lived?" "Who?" "What?" "When?" "Why?" One would say that the questions were overwhelming, but the headmaster didn't seem fazed.

Rumour had it that the two adult muggles at Harry Potter's residence were killed in the battle, but the young muggle had survived. It also was said that Albus Dumbledore had taken in the muggle boy, giving him a living space in Hogwarts.

There have also been reports of a huge snake that has been fighting for the side of the light. Dumbledore still will not confirm these sightings.

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A while later, Harry didn't know exactly when, he came to. With a gasp, his mind came out from the recesses of his consciousness. He blinked once, then twice, not understanding what he was seeing.

Then, his brain decided to wake up. With a snap, he realized that he was bound, on a pole, in the middle of a room… with what seemed like dozens of Death Eaters sitting around him. Voldemort himself was sitting in a chair at the head of the group, Harry facing him.

"Ah, Harry! Nice for you to join the party!" Voldemort said, smiling evilly. It just barely registered in the back of his head that his scar was burning something terrible.

Harry frantically checked to see if his occlumency barriers were still up. Thank Merlin, he thought. They're not down… or worse, dismantled. The hissing and spitting snake was still coiling around his mind. He checked for his wand- no surprise, it wasn't there.

Harry's response to Voldemort's voice was to spit at the ground as close to his feet as possible.

Voldemort then tried looked like a disappointed father. "No, Harry. You know we can't have behavior like that!" Some of the robed figures around the room chuckled. Then, his whole demeanor changed. "Severus!" he barked harshly. "Spell a gag on him!"

Harry saw one of the black figures lift his wand and silently conjure a rag around his mouth. Then, he remembered that he was supposed to be angry and surprised that Se- no, Snape was a Death Eater.

He took a sharp breath and pulled on his bindings in a seemingly angry way, while cursing Snape out for being a Death Eater.

Voldemort got up out of his chair, seemingly pleased. "Tsk, tsk," he said. "What would your mother think, with language like that?"

Now Harry was truly angry. He cursed Voldemort to the deepest pits of hell, thrashing around in this bindings like a madman. The vile excuse for a human being that Harry was cursing so fluently advanced upon him.

Voldemort yanked Harry's head back from his hair, staring into his eyes. He defiantly glared back, feeling his presence prodding at his brand new occlumency barriers. Harry's eyes watered from the pain in his scar.

"You've been practicing," he said in a mocking tone. He narrowed his eyes, and he felt Voldemort's presence practically slam against Nagini, making his defences shudder. He made the snake coil tighter around him, sealing any spaces that were especially weak.

It was like an exhausting battle of wills. No matter how naturally good his shields were, Voldemort had experience. He was able to jump out of the way of the serpent's jaws and attack in a more vulnerable spot.

Snake, snake, snake, snake snake, snake, snakesnakesnakesnakesnakesnake…

It went like this for a couple more minutes, before Voldemort backed away from his mental barriers. He seemed to not have noticed his barriers growing weaker with every attack on his mind.

"You are better than I imagined, Potter," he growled. "But I will break you." Harry tried not to let his fear show as the Dark Lord turned to address the crowd around them. His eyes roamed around his followers as if he was looking for someone. "Ah, Bellatrix!" One of the stark white masks bobbed up and down.

"Yes, my Lord?" the figure that Harry presumed was Bellatrix Lestrange replied, giving a little giggle at the end of her question.

Voldemort strode over to her importantly. He stopped a few feet from where she was sitting, so that his robes flared out dramatically behind him. "What," he asked, "do you think mister Potter here deserves?" he gestured behind him, fingers flaring out.

Harry swallowed through his gag, sweat dripping down his back. Bellatrix giggled again, saying, "Oh, my Lord, he deserves whatever you give him!" Harry could see her grin under her mask. It only covered the top of her face.

Harry just suppressed a snort of disgust at her words. All these people were puppets. Puppets bending over for their master's will. It was revolting, honestly.

He thought those thoughts to keep his mind off of what was probably going to happen to him. He had heard of terrible rumours about how Bellatrix Lestrange could torture someone to insanity… even without the use of the cruciatus curse.

His eyes flicked over to the corner of the large, dark room, where there was a rack of… things that Harry couldn't quite make out.

Harry heard Voldemort chuckle. It sent chills down his spine, and he made a conscious effort not to shiver. Speaking of shivering, he glanced down to see his state of dress. Thankfully, he was dressed in a ratty shirt and trousers, reminiscent of Dudley's old clothes.

"Why, yes, Bella. He will get exactly what I say he deserves," he hissed, in English, thankfully. Harry subconsciencly leaned backwards as Voldemort whipped back to face him. "Why don't you… entertain us?"

Bellatrix rose from her chair. "I would love to, my Lord."

She whipped her wand out of her sleeve, kind of like how Sev- no, he had to remain nameless there. Harry gritted his teeth against the dirty rag restricting his voice. He braced himself for the curse that was going to come hurtling his way…

Bellatrix glanced over to the Dark Lord one last time, as if asking for permission, and Voldemort gave an almost imperceptible nod. Grinning maniacally, she levelled her wand at his chest, and screamed, "Cruicio!"

Pain that Harry had only felt twice in his lifetime came crashing into his body. He ground his teeth together as it felt like his bones were being simultaneously crushed and his skin was on fire and his internal organs were exploding and his muscles were burning up in flames he could feel his sanity slipping he was thrashing around he didn't know his name anymore he couldn't keep his pain inside any long-

Harry screamed through his gag, muffling it. The curse was removed, and he slumped over in utter exhaustion. If this was what the rest of his life was going to be like, he'd put up a fight. He lifted his head from his chest, glaring at Voldemort as if he was saying, 'Is that all you've got?'

Voldemort apparently got the message, because he looked furious. "Bellatrix! Remove the gag from his mouth. I want to hear his agony!" he yelled.

Bellatrix looked frightened for a second. But, when she realized her master's anger wasn't directed at her, she slashed her wand, making the rag tied around Harry's mouth vanish, having it feel like he was being slapped across the face in the process. He bit his lip, keeping a cry of surprise inside.

"My Lord…" Bellatrix started. Her eyes rose slowly from Harry to Voldemort. "May I be a little more… creative… than just using the cruciatus curse?" she implored.

An evil gleam appeared in the Dark Lord's eyes. "Of course, Bellatrix. I might reward you for such a show of intuition, later."

Harry swallowed again, unable to keep from hyperventilating slightly. He wondered what insane torture was going to be forced on him. But, he refused to go down without a fight. He wouldn't scream again. He wouldn't. Right?

"Accio!" Harry flinched as Bellatrix pointed her wand at the rack of things that he had seen earlier. As the rack came zooming into view, he got a look at the things that were on it. Sure enough, there were various wicked looking torture devices on it. She stopped the rack with a hand and a foot, then poking a practiced finger through the items.

"Hmmm…" she murmured. "Sharp or dull, cold or hot? Oh, the possibilities are endless!" she simpered. She seemed to make a decision, because Harry got a brief view of gleaming teeth as she plucked a short knife from the fray, waving it around.

Harry's eyes followed it's progression through the air. "Oh, ho, ho! You like this little toy, don't you?" she said, slipping behind him so he couldn't see her. Harry instinctively tensed up, the pole scratching against the wounds that were already on his back.

He automatically flinched when he felt the coldness of the knife press against his spine under his shirt. Bellatrix giggled, slipping from behind him back to where he could see her. "Oh, I would just like to see the fear and pain in your eyes, that's all."

Harry's eyes widened when she got closer to his face. She cast the famous sticking charm on the back of his head, making it immobile, removing his glasses. She rose the knife to his face, and pressed down under his right eye, on his cheekbone. She hummed as Harry felt a trickle of blood from that small spot on his cheek. "Pity, you were a handsome one," she murmured as she drew a line from the corner of his eye to under his tear ducts. He gritted his teeth and his nostrils flared as she repeated the action to the other side of his face. His fingers twitched and his legs shifted.

"Awww, is Hawwy-poo scared?" she cooed. Harry's eyes narrowed, and Bellatrix chirped an insane laugh. Her knife moved to his nose. She made two vertical slashes on both sides of it, and two more closer to the middle. She circled the blade, making a crescent between the two.

Harry bit the inside of his cheek raw. He wouldnotscreamhewouldnotscreamhewouldnot scream- Bellatrix cut him horizontally right below his eyebrow. He gasped in a breath of surprise, clenching his eyes closed. She pried his other eyebrow up, repeating the action. She made a small vertical mark at the end of the eyebrow, and then making a smaller horizontal line connected to the first one. She did the same to the other one.

Harry involuntarily moaned out loud in pure pain. Bellatrix, pleased, giggled again and resumed her 'artwork.' He could feel the warm blood dripping down his face, getting into his eyes. His blood was pounding in his ears. Harry was sure an artery or vein would pop from the strain he was putting on them.

She made slashing marks under the ones on his cheekbone, making it swirl at the end. She then connected them with two vertical lines.

By then, Harry was taking great, heaving gasps, biting his tongue raw every time he got cut. To his great dismay, he couldn't hold in his agony any longer. He choked out a ragged scream, and Bellatrix chirped in delight.

Obviously, that wasn't enough for the Dark Lord. He sat forward in his chair, fingers gripping the upholstery. "I want you to make him beg for mercy, Bellatrix," he growled.

"Your wish is my command, my Lord!" she tittered.

She lifted the knife back up to his face. She also took her wand, and pointed it at the sharp blade. Harry flinched as she murmured a spell, and the knife turned white-hot. Harry squeezed his eyes shut, breathing quickly as it came even closer to his head.

Then, pain exploded across his forehead- well, worse than the typical Voldemort-was-in- the-room pain. Harry then screamed. His cry of absolute anguish echoed around the large room as Bellatrix pressed the flat side of the unbearably hot knife over his scar.

She giggled again, seeing an approving Dark Lord. Harry opened his eyes, tears blurring his vision. "Harry, I haven't even started yet!" she laughed in mock playfulness.

Bellatrix reheated the very tip of the blade, and she set to work 'drawing' on the rest of his face. His screams rang through the room, all pretences of giving a fight long forgotten. He seemed to choke on his own breath as he struggled to breathe. Blood didn't just drip from his face- it ran in streams, dripping onto his shirt and the floor as he was thrashing around in his bonds for dear life.

Eventually, she tired of using the sharp knife. She backed away from Harry, looking at his face. She considered the knife again, before discarding it back on the rack. The dreaded rack. She quickly picked up something that looked like… looked like… Harry's vision suddenly cleared.

A saw.

The maniac was going to use a saw.

On him.

Who knew where.

Harry yanked and pulled on his bonds with a new vigor he didn't know he still had in him. Laughs echoed around the room, making Harry remember that he had an audience. He slowly settled down, his whole face throbbing in time with his rapid heartbeat. Man, that stung! Understatement of the year, he thought.

Bellatrix advanced on him. She somehow lifted the pole from the ground, and laid Harry down. The thump of his head on the ground seemed to say to him, duh, magic.

Harry attempted to shrink down into the ground in a vain attempt at vanishing from sight.

"Awww, I think ickle-Hawwy is scared!" Bellatrix said as she knelt down at his feet. His bare feet. She hefted the saw in the air, and all of the Death Eaters, plus Voldemort, seemed to hold in a collective breath as she brought the gleaming piece of metal down to his foot.

Time seemed to stop as she rested the serrated edge on his little toe. Harry tried to pull his foot away, but Bellatrix shot another sticking charm at his feet, attaching them to the pole. He clenched his jaw and took in many deep breaths before she began to move the saw.

Back and forth.

Back and forth.

Harry bit his tongue so hard that blood rushed into his mouth. He gurgled out an extremely constricted shriek that lasted for what seemed like hours, but was probably only a few seconds.

Then she hit bone.

Pain Harry was unfamiliar to erupted from his right foot. His back arched and he screamed and screamed until he had no room in his lungs for air anymore. She was cutting his toe straight off. Harry should have known that was going to happen as soon as she laid the blade on his foot, but it was almost like denial that had kept him in the dark.

Harry retched as the pain got too much to handle. Of course, he didn't vomit anything, he had only had a piece of toast that morning.

The last of it was the most sickening. You'd think that once you got past the bone, it wouldn't be so bad, but that theory was disproved by one Harry Potter. He could still feel the strip of skin attaching his toe to his foot be sawed through, and that was the last thing he felt before crashing into unconsciousness.

His ears were ringing.

HPHPHPHPHPHP

Draco Malfoy was laying in bed, wide awake. Earlier that night, he had overheard his father bragging to his fellow colleagues that they had captured Harry Potter, and they were keeping him inside Malfoy Manor. It was the first time they were keeping a prisoner inside their house, ever since the Dark Lord's return.

At first, Draco was ecstatic. Finally, Potter would get what was coming for him! At about eight o'clock, he had retreated to his room, planning to get a good night's sleep. He had burrowed under his blankets, drifting off.

Thirty minutes later, he heard the first shriek. It was masculine, and it snapped Draco wide awake. Wait, were they torturing him? Now?! It sounded like he was in the dining room. That room was close to the bedrooms…

He then heard the Dark Lord bellow. "Bellatrix! Remove his gag… to hear his agony!" Draco swallowed.

It was quiet for a couple of minutes. He looked at his magical clock, and it read 8:45. Maybe they were done making Potter scream. He sighed and shifted around in his bed.

He wished in vain. He heard a loud, pain-filled groan. A few seconds later, Draco was listening closely when he heard the second scream of the night. He flinched backwards, twisting his bedsheets in his fist.

A few tense seconds later, Potter screamed again. This was the worst one of the night. What were they doing to him?! He shivered under all of his blankets. This chilled him absolutely to the bone. He yelled until it seemed like there was no room left in his lungs.

It was quiet for another second. Then, he heard more anguished, raw, throat-rending screams, echoing through the entire left wing of the house. He wouldn't be surprised if even Mother heard Potter.

Draco bit back a sob as he heard Potter seem to choke on his own breath. Not that he cared… he was just unsettled by the sounds.

Suddenly, the cries stopped. About a minute passed before he heard the noises resume. But… this time… it seemed like… he had something liquid in his mouth as he screamed… blood! Did he bite his tongue? Was he internally bleeding? He didn't care, though. Keep telling yourself that, Draco. He knew, deep, deep down, that he didn't have what it took to be a Death Eater.

As a child, Draco had been known to faint at the sight of even the slightest amount of blood. That was why he had reacted so poorly to the hippogriff slash to his arm. He knew that he probably shouldn't have provoked the animal, but it wasn't like he'd ever tell anyone that.

Potter's screams grew even more desperate, if that was even possible. Draco ground his teeth to stop another whimper from escaping his lips.

Suddenly, he heard a gagging sound, and gasps that sounded like it hurt to draw them in. Draco shuddered. This was all too horrifying… he couldn't take it! Then, everything fell silent. It was an ominous silence, that seemed to permeate everything. Draco prayed to every deity he knew of that Potter was just unconscious, and not… worse. He didn't know why, but it just seemed so wrong that someone… someone that he knew, practically fought with on a daily basis at school, to be brought down to such a level.

He heard more general commotion downstairs, chairs being pushed back and the cracks of apparition outside. It seemed like the meeting was over… his father would be checking on him in just a moment, like he always did after he came back from his various exploits with his colleagues.

However cold they seemed on the outside, they had a secret that they kept just as closely as the fact that they were hosting Death Eaters. Well, perhaps even better, because it seemed like everyone suspected that was what Lucius Malfoy did in his free time.

The secret was this: contrary to popular belief, the Malfoys actually were quite affectionate to each other when out of the public eye. (A/N: I know that this is very, very mushy, but I don't care)

Draco shifted in his blankets, smoothing them out to make it look like he was sleeping peacefully, and had been since eight.

Seconds later, he heard the sound of heels clicking on the hardwood. It stopped next to his closed door, and his father cracked the door open. His head peeked in, curtain of platinum blond hair falling down his shoulders.

He opened the door the rest of the way. He stepped into the room, letting out a sigh that sounded like it had been kept inside all day. "Draco, I know you're awake," he murmured.

Draco sighed and rolled over to face his father. Sometimes, he knew him too well. "Yes, father?" he asked.

His father sat down on his bed, Draco making room for him by moving his feet. "I also know that you heard everything outside." He had a stony mask on.

Draco turned his head downwards. "Erm… maybe I did…?" he stammered nervously. Was he not supposed to listen in?

Lucius sighed again, mask dropping. "That must have been difficult to listen to."

Draco thought it would be safe to ask him a question. "Not that I'm concerned about his general health or anything…"

"Don't pause, it is unbefitting for a Malfoy," his father rebuked softly. Draco nodded.

"What were they doing to Potter?" he rushed out.

Lucius hummed. "How did you know that it was… never mind. Well, they set Aunt Bellatrix on him."

Draco cringed. "Oh, how many crucios?"

His father looked to the ceiling, eyes slightly glassy. "Only one," he answered.

Draco was confused. "Then… why was he screaming?" Maybe things weren't as bad as they had seemed.

"You don't want to know, Draco."

Now he was truly worried. "Yes, I do! What happened?" he prodded.

The way his father scowled made it seem like Draco had gone too far. Then it relaxed. "Just don't come to me if you have nightmares, all right?" he sighed. Draco nodded, eager to hear the rest of the story. "Bellatrix cast a crucio at him, and that was the first scream. He had actually held out for a long time," he said, sounding impressed. "Then, she decided to use more… creative procedures, if you wish."

Then in hit Draco. She… she had been using muggle torture methods!

"Are you sure you want to hear the rest?" he asked upon seeing his son's face blanch. Draco nodded, and Lucius continued. "Bella took a sharp knife… and carved out designs on his face," he choked out. "But, to our great surprise, he did not cry out."

Ahh, that must have been that time of silence in between the two first screams. "Then what happened?" he rasped.

"She heated up the knife, and pressed it on his forehead, over his scar." Draco shivered. "She then resumed her artwork, with the hot blade." He pursed his lips, wondering if he should go further and tell him about Potter's missing limb.

"Then what happened? The worst screams," Draco prompted.

It seemed like his father drifted off, his eyes becoming more distant. "They… she cut…" Then it looked like Lucius regained a semblance of reality. His back straightened, and he said, "She sawed his right pinkie toe off."

Of all things in the world, he had not expected this. He felt sick. He couldn't believe that he had heard that in process, of all things, and not just a cruciatis session. At least with the aftermath of that curse, you only had faint muscle spasming and nerve damage that could be easily healed. But using the methods that Bellatrix had that night… things might be harder to mend.

He cleared his throat, and tried to school his face into one of unconcern. "Father, what condition is he in now?" he asked.

Lucius looked unimpressed. "Draco, I know that you are worried about Potter." He looked gratified at his guilty and nervous expression. He leaned, after looking around, and whispered in his ear.

"I think… it may be time to reconsider our alliances."