The
first thing Harry felt when he awoke from unconsciousness was the cruel grip of
iron on his wrists and ankles, binding him to the stone table under his back.
He opened his eyes and winced at the pain radiating from his scar. The last
thing he remembered was appearing in a dark field and coming to face to face
with Voldemort, then excruciating pain in his scar and darkness.
He blinked in the pitch black
and tried to move, but his limbs felt like lead weights. Water was dripping
somewhere nearby and the musty smell of damp stone invaded his nostrils as he
slowly became aware of his surroundings.
A door suddenly opened with a
rusty screech at the far end of his cell and Harry squinted at the dark figure
standing in the doorway. The torches lining the cell walls suddenly burst into
flame, stinging his sensitive eyes before he snapped them shut. He listened to
the figure drawing near him, their cloak rustling along the stone floor
quietly. A breath of warm air ghosted across his cheek as the stranger leaned
over his face.
Harry fearfully opened his eyes
a little...and found himself looking into the face of Lucius Malfoy.
"Ah, you're awake, Mr
Potter," he said pleasantly.
Harry tried to speak, but his
throat was so dry that he could only manage a raspy croak.
Lucius smirked. "Would you like
some water?"
Harry pressed his lips into a
thin line and refused to answer.
Lucius took out his wand and
made a glass of water appear in his hand. "Here you are," he said,
holding it to Harry's lips.
Harry looked at him
sceptically.
"I assure you it's not
poisoned."
Harry tipped his head up and drank
the cool liquid gratefully, beyond caring whether Lucius was lying or not.
"Very good, Potter,"
he smiled approvingly. "We wouldn't want to deny Lord Voldemort the
pleasure of hearing you scream because your throat was parched, now would
we?"
Harry choked and looked up into
the mocking face.
"Finished?" Lucius
asked. "Let's hear you speak now, Potter."
Harry glared, refusing to play
his sick game.
"Why do you always have to
make things so difficult?" Lucius sighed, raising his wand.
Harry's eyes widened.
"Crucio!"
A scream painfully ripped
itself from his throat as his body twisted spastically, straining against the
chains holding him down. After a few seconds, Lucius lowered his wand, ending
the spell. Harry fell limp, his eyes watering.
"Maybe that will teach you
to obey me the first time," Lucius spat. "I'll be back for you in an
hour, Potter. The Dark Lord requests an audience with you and I suggest you try
and rest, you'll need your strength."
He turned and swept out of the
small cell, his black cloak swirling around him.
Harry closed his eyes and tried
not to think about what would happen to him in an hour.
* * * * * * * * *
Draco
snapped his eyes open and immediately recognized the sterile surroundings of
the Hogwarts infirmary. He sat up quickly as the day's events came rushing
back. Glancing out the window, he could see the moon glowing from behind a few
thin wisps of cloud. He threw back the blankets and walked to the door,
glancing at the clock as he passed - 11:37pm.
He headed straight for
Dumbledore's office as fast as he could and saw Ron standing by the gargoyle
entrance.
The tall red-head turned at the
sound of Draco's footsteps.
"You!" Ron cried, the
blood rushing to his face and hands clenching in anger.
"Out of my way, Weasley,"
Draco snapped impatiently, trying to brush past.
Ron launched himself at Draco
with a growl. Startled Draco stumbled backwards and fell with Ron landing on
top of him.
"This is your fault!"
Ron cried, pinning Draco's arms down. "If he dies I'll make sure everyone
knows who to blame."
"Get off me, Weasley,"
Draco snarled, narrowing his eyes threateningly.
Ron pulled back and punched him
in the jaw.
"Mr Weasley!"
Ron rolled off and stood up at
the sound of Lupin's voice.
"What do you think you're
doing?" Lupin demanded, striding angrily up the hallway.
"He deserved it," Ron
replied defensively.
Lupin extended a hand to Draco
to help him up. "For what?"
"For deserting Harry
and...and allowing his father to capture him again."
"I'm not responsible for
my father's actions," Draco countered, his hand dropping from his face
after inspecting his jaw.
"If you'd had the guts you
would have killed him the last time," Ron said angrily. "Shows just
how little you really do care about Harry."
"That's enough,"
Lupin ordered.
"He told us you didn't
love him," Ron raged on heedlessly. "But he loved you...he loved you
and you just threw it in his face. You broke his heart when you left. You're
not worthy of him, and now he's going to die and it's all your fault you
unfeeling son-of-a-bitch!"
Draco threw himself towards Ron,
but Lupin caught him across the chest and held him back.
"Ron, leave now!"
Lupin ordered, holding a struggling Draco.
Ron gave Draco one last glare,
before turning on his heel and striding away.
"I'm sorry, Draco,"
Lupin apologized, as he released his hold on him. "You don't need to deal
with that right now on top of everything else."
"That's okay," Draco
replied, his anger fading as he watched Ron's retreating back. "I can
understand what he's feeling."
"That's no excuse for his
behaviour."
"He's right though, it is
my fault Harry's missing."
"That's not true -"
"Yes, it is." Draco
looked at Lupin sadly. "I had the chance to kill my father when I rescued
Harry from our dungeon and I didn't do it."
"You can't be expected to
kill your own father, Draco, no matter what he's like. Besides, if your father
hadn't taken Harry, then one of Voldemort's other stooges would have done it
and Harry would still be missing. What you have to understand is that Harry's
life has been in danger since his birth, with or without your help."
"You don't blame me?"
Draco asked incredulously.
"Of course not," he
smiled. "And you shouldn't either."
"If only I hadn't left
him..."
"You can't dwell on regret,
Draco. What matters is that you came back and can now work to put things right
again."
"But -"
"We will find him,"
Lupin cut in as if reading his mind.
The gargoyle suddenly opened to
the right of them and Dumbledore emerged with Professor Snape at his side. Severus
looked relieved at the sight of Draco.
"How are you feeling, Mr
Malfoy?" he asked, with the concern he reserved only for his favourite
Slytherin students.
"Alright, I guess..."
"We need your help, Mr
Malfoy," Dumbledore said, placing a hand on his shoulder.
"Of course...anything to
help find him," Draco answered quickly.
Dumbledore smiled and squeezed his
shoulder. "I knew I was right about you, young Malfoy"
"We should get started,"
Snape interrupted.
Dumbledore turned and nodded. "Let's
go, Draco," he said gently.
The four men walked silently
down the hallway towards Snape's potions lab.
* * * * * * * * *
Harry
was jolted out of his thoughts when the cell door screeched open again an hour
later. Two men in Death Eater robes entered and released him from the chains.
To weak to move, Harry let them grab his arms and hoist him off the stone table
to his feet.
"Let's go, Potter,"
the tall, thick-set man grunted, shoving Harry in the back.
He stumbled forwards a few
steps, but managed to stay on his feet, then walked out of the cell flanked by
the two men.
"Turn left," the
shorter one barked out.
Harry, following their
directions, led them through a maze of darkened corridors that seemed to go on
and on. He was tiring quickly, his legs becoming unsteady as he valiantly
struggled to stay upright.
Finally, after what seemed like
hours, they came to a large, green door with no handle. One of the men grabbed
Harry's wrists and bound them together with a piece of rope so tightly that it
cut into his skin. The other one walked up to the door and knocked on it
loudly.
"It's Larson!" he
shouted to whoever was on the other side. "We have Potter."
Harry could hear a faint
muttering coming from behind the door, then -
"Aveda Kedavra."
Harry flinched. The killing
curse, but it was said in Parseltongue, and he only knew of one other person
who could speak Parseltongue - Voldemort.
The words were obviously a
secret password to open the door, as it began to swing forward immediately. The
room beyond was very grand, it looked like some kind of throne room. Shiny,
black marble tiles made up the floor and green, silk drapes hung on the walls.
The room was very cold and smelt of death. At the far end of the room was a
black marble throne on which perched Lord Voldemort himself. A ring of Death
Eaters were standing on either side, all of them unmasked.
The man named Larson grabbed
the rope around Harry's wrists and roughly pulled him forward until he was in
the middle of the room. Larson and the other man quickly retreated to their positions
with the other Death Eaters, leaving Harry standing alone.
"Welcome to my home, Mr
Potter," Voldemort said in a silky voice with sweep of his arms.
Harry remained silent, watching
him apprehensively. Voldemort looked much stronger since the last time he had
met with him. His scar began to sting slightly on his forehead.
"Cat got your tongue,
Potter?" Voldemort chuckled. "That's a muggle phrase, is it
not?"
Harry's hands began to tremble.
He preferred the angry, shouting Voldemort to the one before him. This one was
pleasant and calm...too calm.
"Not in the mood for idle
conversation, Harry?" he smiled. "Oh well, let's get on with it
then."
Voldemort nodded to the Death
Eaters on his right. Four of them stepped forward and stood in a circle around
Harry, their wands raised.
"Imperio!"
Harry felt the familiar calming
sensation of the Imperius curse flow through his exhausted body.
"You can't
breathe..." a voice whispered in his head.
Harry suddenly felt his throat
tighten.
"You are out of
air..."
His lungs seized up, refusing
to work.
"You are choking..."
Harry fell to his knees,
gasping for air like a fish out of water.
"No...I can beat
this..." Harry thought desperately through the haze in his mind, telling
himself that he could breathe again.
"You are choking..."
the voice commanded.
Harry felt his lungs slowly
being released as he concentrated on fighting the curse.
"No!" he gasped, getting to his feet and startling the Death Eaters.
Voldemort alone looked
unsurprised. "Avoiding deadly curses seems to be your luck in life, Mr
Potter," he sneered. "But that's all it is - luck. Too bad you can
not simply throw the next one off."
He nodded to the Death Eater on
Harry's left.
"Crucio!"
Even though he was expecting
it, Harry could do nothing to stop it. The pain was that of falling to the
ground from a five story building. He crumpled to the floor, screaming in
agony, his body thrashing wildly to escape the pain. He squeezed his eyes shut,
praying for it to stop. His scar was burning now and his eyes watered as his
body was completely overwhelmed by the sheer agony, twisting out of his
control. His screams were tearing his throat apart and blood was starting to
ooze from his scar and run down the bridge of his nose. He could feel himself
on the edge of unconsciousness and begged for it to take him away.
Voldemort had his eyes closed
in ecstasy, listening to Harry's tormented screams. He opened his eyes then and
nodded at the Death Eater, who lowered his wand and released Harry from the
curse after ten excruciating minutes.
Harry lay on his back, his
vision fading in and out as he breathed heavily.
"You will be relieved to
know that we won't be trying the third curse on you today," Voldemort
smiled, rising to his feet. "But soon you will wish for it. How long can
the great Harry Potter last? A month? A week? Maybe even a year..."
He made his way down the steps
of his throne to stand over Harry who continued to lie on the marble floor, his
bound hands now covering his face.
"Every day you will feel
Cruciatus upon your body and I will take blood from you to help keep me strong.
The day will come when your strength finally gives out and you will ask for
death, and I will be there to grant you that final request. I will be there as
you ask for an end to an existence that has only brought you pain and
suffering. I can wait forever Harry, but I doubt you'll last that long."
He paused, allowing his words
to sink in.
"Good night, Mr Potter. I
will see you tomorrow."
Voldemort walked out a side
door followed closely by a short, fat Death Eater with a silver hand.
Harry's hands began to shake as
he lay there, clenching his eyes shut. Someone threw his hands aside and jerked
him to his feet. He cracked his eyes open warily. Lucius Malfoy was half
dragging, half carrying him to the green door. He pushed against it and it
opened easily.
"Apparently you only need
the password to get out," Harry mused to himself, half-conscious.
He didn't remember anything about the
walk back, only that Lucius must have ended up carrying him most of the way.
They reached Harry's cell and Lucius threw him inside, Harry hitting the ground
hard without his hands free to stop himself from falling. Lucius walked over
and stood looking down at him for a moment before kicking him viciously in the
stomach. Harry let out a groan and tried to curl into a ball. Lucius untied the
binds on his wrists and dragged him over to the stone table where he shackled
him once again.
Lucius leaned in, his face
hovering close to Harry's. "You are going to pay for corrupting my son,"
he whispered venomously, running one finger down the trail of blood on Harry's
forehead and nose. "There is no one here to take pity on you and I very
much doubt Draco will be coming to the rescue this time. It seems he grew tired
of you, am I right? You're too much trouble for anyone to stay with for long,
aren't you, Potter?"
Harry's heart wrenched
painfully at Draco's name.
Lucius smirked. "You're
here until you die, Potter," he continued. "And remember it's your
choice when that will be, you could be put out of your misery tomorrow if you so
wished to."
He straightened up, steel eyes
still on Harry's face, and licked the blood off of his finger. Harry turned his
head away, feeling sick. Lucius sneered and walked out, locking the door and
extinguishing the torches, leaving Harry alone with the darkness.
Harry's shaking increased until
he felt like he was about to burst, he finally let go of all the emotions he
had kept inside since the throne room and sobbed. The sobs painfully wracked
his sore body and tore at his raw throat. He cried for Sirius, Lupin, and
Dumbledore, knowing that they were probably very worried about him and desperately
searching for him. He cried for Ron and Hermione because he knew that they
would never give up hope of finding him.
Mostly he cried for Draco, his
love, because he knew he would never see him again. He was glad Draco didn't
know that he was in danger this time, he didn't want to cause him any more
trouble or worry. He hated seeing Lucius, who caused him so much pain, but had
the same eyes as his Draco...
He cried because he knew that
at long last the Dark side had won...and he was going to die.
