_ SEQ CHAPTER \h \r 1

Chapter 10: The Three Unforgivables

Harry was dizzily flying through a whirlwind of nauseating colors before abruptly hitting the hard ground and landing painfully on his left arm. Harry winced when he heard a sharp *snap*. He grimaced looking down at it to see it twisted and he could clearly make out a bone sticking out at an odd angle.  Gnawing the inside of his cheek in pain, Harry looked up and found himself in a small, dark and dusty room. With some amount of panic, he realized he was neither at Hogwarts or Grimmauld Place. Harry bit his lip in worry. He heard a ruffling noise behind him, and swiftly turned around. The last thing he saw was a distinct flash of silver before his world went black.

~*~*~*~

Harry was painfully snapped back into the world of reality with an internal groan. He couldn't move at all and his arm was killing him. The only part of his body he was able to move were his eyeballs, which he was making of good use right now by thoroughly looking around. Harry noticed he was still in the same murky room as before. The walls had peeling, yellowed wallpaper and the only window in the room was covered with some green type of plant from the outside that Harry could only guess was ivy, giving the room its darkness. Harry's nostrils were full of the smell of decay and if he would have been able to move he would have sneezed from the thick layer of dust on the hardwood floor. The grate of the fireplace in the corner of the room held a dying fire whose lights were casting long spidery shadows on the wall. Harry vaguely recognized the room, but he didn't know from where. He caught movement from the corner of his right eye and looked towards it. What he saw made his stomach plummet and a surge of anger flowed through him. There was a short plump man in front of something else he couldn't see. That wasn't what made him angry though. The man was turned away from him but a distinct silver hand could be seen from the large folds of his dark black cloak. He must have felt someone's eyes on him, for the man turned around while chuckling. Upon seeing his face, Harry was filled with fury. All the previous fear was gone to be replaced by solid anger. Harry was looking into the chuckling face of his parents' indirect murderer.

Peter Pettigrew.

His fine sandy blond hair was as gray as ever and his small eyes were filled with morbid delight.

"Potter, Potter, Potter," Pettigrew started in a mocking tone. "You're not feeling all high and mighty now, are you?" Wormtail asked in an over-confident sounding voice. Harry was internally seething with anger and would have retorted if he wasn't in a body bind. The short man continued.

"What's the matter, cat got your tongue?" he chuckled smugly. If he would have been able to move, Harry would have given Wormtail a rather rude hand gesture. Now he was really regretting not letting Sirius and Remus kill the bastard in his third year. Before he could think of any more ways to murder Pettigrew, he continued.

"No matter. My master will be here soon," Wormtail laughed wickedly. "Oh don't worry Harry," the rat continued in a mocking tone, "you'll see your pathetic dog of a godfather again soon."

Harry saw red. He was so angry. No, angry didn't even begin to describe it. How did that bloody bastard have a right to even mention his godfather? It was all Pettigrew's fault; if he hadn't been such a coward, Harry's parents and godfather could have still been alive.

The ivy covered window at the far side of the room blew up and the glass shattered into a million tiny pieces scattering themselves across the hearth rug in front of the dying fire. The faint light of the fire reflected off of the tiny pieces of glass making them shine in the room like diamonds.

The pointy nosed man who's back was to Harry staring at what used to be a glass covered window, slowly turned and stared at Harry maliciously. His narrowed watery eyes were shining with anger and Harry could even detect some amount of fear in them.

"You just wait, Potter. In a few minutes the Dark Lord will arrive and you'll get what you deserve," Wormtail hissed while glaring at Harry with unveiled loathing reflecting off his eyes. Suddenly his smug smile reappeared full force making Harry uneasy for the first time since being in—well, being wherever he was. "Oh but of course before the Dark Lord kills you," he started smiling wickedly, "you'll get to see your precious friend die."

Harry stared at him confused until Wormtail swiftly slid two steps to his right in one fluid motion, revealing what—or rather, who was behind him.

Hermione.

Harry's stomach plummeted and his heart felt like it was being violently ripped out. There was a Muggle tennis ball sized lump in his throat, and Harry tried in vain to swallow it.

Hermione seemingly was in the same situation as himself. She was propped up against the wall, stiff as a board. Her long brown hair, whose bushiness had diminished over the years, was now as frizzy as ever, splaying wild curls over parts of her face. Her magnificent brown eyes were staring directly at him reflecting fear and something else Harry couldn't distinguish. He had never seen that expression on her face before and he wanted nothing else than to look away, at something—anything else, but he could not bring himself to look away from those deep brown orbs.

Harry jumped out of his skin—well as well as anyone can jump when they're under the full body bind—at a noise from downstairs. Harry's scar started to itch more and more until it developed into full out pain. He felt a chill run up his spine from what he knew was about to come. Footsteps could be heard from just outside the door, and Wormtail looked slightly nervous. Harry glanced over at Hermione but her eyes betrayed nothing.

The door creaked open slowly and white hot pain shot up Harry's scar. His eyes were watering since he couldn't close them. Harry stared into the face of his most hated enemy.

Voldemort.

Harry refused to look away from his enemy's face despite the pain. An evil grin was plastered on Voldemort's whiter than white snakelike face showing off large yellow teeth. His large scarlet eyes were reflecting gleeful joy and staring straight at Harry. He didn't speak for what seemed like hours, but what was in reality only a few minutes. Instead of saying anything directly to Harry, Voldemort turned to the slightly quivering Wormtail.

"You've done very well, Wormtail," the Dark Lord hissed to the rat with a malicious smile. Wormtail visibly relaxed. "But," Voldemort continued, "you were supposed to bring the boy's other friend as well."

Wormtail's eyes widened and he spluttered. "B...Bu...But my L...Lo—"

"Silence!" Voldemort's cold voice cut in while Wormtail flinched.

"Crucio," the Dark Lord said lazily pointing his wand at the balding man. Pettigrew immediately fell to the floor writhing violently and screaming in pain. The Dark Lord merely chuckled evilly. After less than a minute, Wormtail's voice was already hoarse and the Dark Lord broke off the spell. Not even sparing the twitching body a glance, Voldemort finally turned to face Harry's frozen form.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, savior of the wizarding world, and Dumbledore's gullible little pawn," You-Know-Who started tauntingly. Harry's scar by now was a raw red color from the unbearable pain and his eyes were over leaking with tears from the lack of blinking, but he still refused to look away. Voldemort mistook his watering eyes for real tears. "Aww, don't cry," he started mockingly, "you'll soon be the Boy-Who-Died and see your pathetic excuse of parents again.

"There are just a few more things I have to do," he said nastily. Voldemort pointed his wand at Harry and silently undid his body bind. Harry fell forward before he could steady himself. The Dark Lord laughed an entirely mirthless laugh while Harry struggled to get up. Something poked his hip sharply making Harry hiss before he widened his eyes. His wand! Harry discreetly pulled it out of his robe pocket while getting up. He stood up straight facing the Dark Lord with his wand behind his back. Voldemort laughed again while pointing his wand at Harry but before he could get one word out, Harry brandished his wand and threw a "Stupify!" at him. Voldemort's eyes widened slightly in surprise before he dodged out of the way of the curse. He glared at Wormtail still cowering in the corner, most probably for forgetting to take Harry's wand, before throwing the Cruciatus Curse at Harry. Harry tried to dodge it but didn't quite make it.

Pain above any other filled his body. Harry had been under the curse many times before, but nothing could have prepared him for it once more. His bones were on fire, and tiny white hot needles were penetrating his body. His eyes were rolling around his head and he could hear screams, unaware they were being produced by himself.

When the pain finally ended after a few miserable minutes that seemed like lifetimes, Harry lay panting on the ground. He quickly tried to heave himself up ignoring his shanking limbs, but made the mistake of leaning on his broken arm and falling right back down with a sharp sting of pain. He had completely forgotten about his arm after the Cruciatus. Voldemort was laughing a high, cold, and mirthless laugh, quite enjoying viewing Harry suffer.

After four more failed attempts at getting up on Harry's part, Voldemort's patience seemed to be running out for he pointed his wand at Harry once more, muttering a well chosen word under his breath. Before Harry had a chance to dodge or even figure out what Voldemort had said, the most wonderful feeling enveloped him. He no longer suffered the pain of the previous Cruciatus Curse, or the pain in his broken arm. The searing pain in his scar was just a dull ache which wasn't even comparable to the white hot knife that was cutting it open before. All of his worries were gently pushed away from his mind. All that was left in his mind now was a vague feeling of joy, and even his previously aching muscles were relaxed.

And then he heard Voldemort's voice deep inside his empty head. His voice almost sounded as if it was yelling from very far away.

...get up...

Harry followed the voice's instruction without hesitation, wand still in hand. He was only dimly aware of Voldemort grinning wickedly.

...point your wand at your friend...

Harry slightly raised his arm following the instructions in his blissfully empty mind until another voice inside his head froze him in mid-movement.

Why should I? What's the point of that?

...do it boy! Point your wand...

Harry did what he was told and pointed his wand at his friend, enjoying the empty sensation in his mind.

...kill the girl...

Huh?

...kill her, boy!...

What for?

...I said kill her, boy!...

I'm not killing her! She's my friend!

...KILL HER!!!...

"NO!!!" Harry yelled out loud snapping out of the curse. Harry turned furiously bright green eyes to Voldemort and did the first thing he could think of. He raised his wand to a slightly surprised and frozen Dark Lord and yelled out the two words that had ruined his life:

"AVADA KEDAVRA"

A/N's: Tsk, tsk....doesn't Voldemort ever learn not to duel Harry? Something is bound to go wrong! Oh well, JKR didn't exactly make him the sharpest tool in the shed.

Sorry for the cliffhanger...um...again. ;-) I'm just so hopelessly addicted to them.

Next chapter shouldn't take nearly as long (if school cooperates) and review responses will be next chapter as well, I promise!!

Please review and let me know if you liked this chapter and/or how you like the story so far!! I'd love to know what you guys thought of this chapter especially! Was there anything that could have been improved?

Thanks again everyone for r/r.