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.