Disclaimer: Anything you recognize belongs to those with far great intelligence and attention spans then I. Harry Potter and all related material belongs to JK Rowling and Warner Brothers, etc. Only the original ideas or plot belong to me, and they're so enormously lackluster I'd probably be forced to pay someone to steal them. In addition, some of the text in this chapter is taken directly from Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, and is the property and creation of JK Rowling; none of it belongs to me.
Author's Notes: Reviews! I very nearly did cartwheels when I noticed this, however I somehow managed to restrain myself. So now I'll go so far as to follow in the recent trend of responding to reviews! WHOOHOO!
Demented Chook: Love the username. Eh, I think those questions are answered in this chapter!
Kokomocalifornia: Eeek! Didn't realize I had to block-anonymous-reviews thing on. It's off now though! Thanks!
Larna Mandrea: Thanks! Hope you like this one.
Pippin-grl159: Someone made use of my 'ingenious' line! Rest assured I can die happy. Thanks for the review! Perhaps its just my goat that floats...
Slydawn: I'll be sure to do that.
Keran: Thanks!
Sicilian Girl: Sorry about the cliff-hanger! It was too good to resist :D
Lunatic Pandora1: Eurgh, I agree. I've broken one wrist in the past and that was quite enough for me. Although to Harry, it will be something of an advantage.
Note: I apologize in advance if I missed any reviews - I type this up one day and post it as soon as time permits. If I did miss anyone, and I spot more reviews later, I'll reply to all of them in the next chapter. Thanks!
The Flight From Death
Chapter VII: Temptation
What now? Harry thought desperately at the ceiling above him, half- expecting a logical response. Bellatrix had left with the promise of returning with 'Far more food then you deserve', causing Harry to experience yet another wave of deja vu; honestly, if not for her slight accent, Bellatrix could at that moment have passed for Petunia Dursley.
That thought, however, was hardly encouraging.
Before leaving, the Death Eater had performed a simple spell on his damaged appendages (The same spell, in fact, that Alastor Moody had administered to Severus Snape some hour before) to bandage them securely. Reluctant though he was to admit it, the difference was that of a mountain and a molehill: while he was still in dire need of a proper Mending Charm and Pain Reduction Potion, he no longer felt as though moving either of the wrists would cause him to black out.
All in all, Harry was very ill at ease with this treatment. He was far too experienced in the ways of Voldemort to assume that Bellatrix would be provide magical healing and meals without the Dark Lord's consent. Clearly he was up to something, and though he had been thoroughly persistent in demanding Harry's full knowledge of the Prophecy, a part of him was certain that it was something else.
After all, Voldemort had been more then willing to kill Harry mere months before this incident, and he didn't seem the sort to care about the fine print. Harry, according to Voldemort's knowledge of the prophecy, had the power to destroy him once and for all. The obvious solution to this problem was, of course, to kill Harry and destroy the threat.
Yet as Harry sat, pondering the possibilities, it occurred to him that from Voldemort's stand point, there was another option.
The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord is born as the seventh month dies...Born to those who have thrice defied him...
Dumbledore had said that whomever overhead the prophecy had heard no further then this. Did that mean Voldemort had no idea that when it was all over, one of them would have to die because of the other?
...For neither can live while the other survives.
It was this portion that made the least sense to Harry. They were both alive now, weren't they? All this speculation was giving him a head ache, yet he could not help but wonder...
If Voldemort didn't know the ending of the Prophecy, was it possible that the reason Harry had been captured...the reason he was still alive...was not to kill him, but to persuade him to join Voldemort?
Fat sodding chance, a voice in his head retorted boldly.
But as Harry leaned back against the wall to await another intrusion, his mind drifted into a torrent of memories, so that within moments he was immersed in a cold sweat, mesmerized.
You worthless killer...
...We'll both take it.
You're less like your father then I thought...
...Did you love him, baby Potter?
CRUCIO!
...no...Harry...
AVADA KEDAVRA!
"I killed him."
"Ah, here it is, Albus." Arthur Weasley glanced upward from his desk in the drawing room, raising a newspaper victoriously while a wave of his wand banished the remaining stack to one of the shelves.
Albus Dumbledore held out a hand, the grayed and fading papers flying slowly into his outstretched palm. Readjusting his spectacles, he peered down at the article on the front page:
Little Hangleton Herald
Riddle Family Deaths Have Doctors Riddled
Moody, who had been peering over Albus' shoulder, laughed bitterly.
"'Riddle family discovered dead...cause of death baffles local experts...' Yes, that's it, alright. And...there it is, Albus, 'Found at their place of residence...'" Moody gestured to the address the editor must have overlooked out of excitement.
Waving his wand, Dumbledore effortlessly conjured a roll of parchment, and with another gentle flick, a quill - fully adorned with ink - sprouted out of the end of his wand.
While discovering the exact location of the Riddle Manor had been a definite jump in the right direction, the Headmaster was far from reassured. If he knew Voldemort - and, having taught Tom Riddle through his years at Hogwarts, and later fought demon who had replaced the student, he considered himself to know the Dark Lord quite well indeed - certain precautions would have been taken to ensure that he would not be outwitted so easily.
Furthermore, it had not taken long to deduce that the man's sinister and despicable sense of humor would lead him to completely reverse the tables that had been set sixteen years ago.
Voldemort would use the Fidelius Charm, however this time, Harry would not be protected from the person who wanted to harm him, he would be protected from the people who would give anything to save him.
And Dumbledore knew just who the Secret Keeper would be.
Fifty Seven...Fifty Eight...Fifty Nine...
Harry continued to stare upward moodily. He had taken to passing the time by counting the number of tiles on the ceiling. At least it kept him from thinking about the number of ways in which Voldemort might brutally murder him, how badly his back was beginning to throb, and his growling stomach.
Sixty...Sixty One...
The door swung open with a creak.
Instinctively, Harry's hand went to his right pocket for his wand - which, of course, was not there, leaving him only to jam his bandaged fingers halfway through the pocket and curse so violently he might have made Voldemort blush.
"Language, little Potter." A chuckling voice only worsened his mood. The single swear word grew into a string of loud obscenities, most of which seemed to involve Bellatrix and a box of Weasley Wizard Wheezes fireworks.
Bellatrix waved her wand lazily, and Harry felt his mouth continue to form words, yet no sound escaped. He scowled.
"The Dark Lord wished me to deliver you these," She began, holding out a small tray laden with half a cup full of soup, some rather dry looking bread, and half a goblet of water.
She waited a moment for a response, however must have remembered her Silencing Spell at the dangerous look on his face. Her grin widened sickeningly, and she waved her wand once more.
"Aren't you going to thank me for delivering your supper, little Potter?"
"I'm watching my weight." Harry drawled in response. His stomach growled mutinously.
"You will eat," She hissed threateningly, "Or I will force you to eat. The Dark Lord does not wish you to starve...yet. He needs you sufficiently energized for what is to come."
"I'm not hungry." Harry growled in response.
"Imperio!"
Eat. You are hungry.
I can't let her win!
You haven't eaten in two days. You will eat.
I...
What could it hurt? Go on...you want to.
In the end, the perfectly persuasive voice in his mind and his aching hunger won out. The moment the food touched his lips he felt a smug satisfaction that was not his own. But he was hungry, and the food was there.
Perhaps it was a combination of hunger, pain, and the need for sleep that caused it, but for the first time in his life, Harry could not fight off the Imperious Curse.
And somewhere beyond the Riddle Manor, in the depths of a graveyard, Lord Voldemort stood, watching the scene through eyes that were not his own, a chillingly high laugh escaping him.
It had begun.
After Notes: I know it's a bit short, really sorry – I'm completely bogged down with horse duties. I'll post the next chapter much earlier to make up for it. Thanks for reading! And please review, they brighten up my day after being mauled by a stable full of hungry horses. =)
Oh, and also to make up for the short length, I'll tell you that the next chapter, Harry will take a risk that will lead to a turning point in his captivity.
So eh..review! Reviews are highly motivating. Really, they should be used for therapy or something...It's 2 in the AM, I'm allowed to be stupid.