Sorry this has been taking me so long. School was such a bitch-ass this semester, and I actually got a decent boyfriend this summer who's been forcing me into have some sort of a life outside of the computer room.

Um, this chapter will be short. It's just about Harry being tortured, then having a nice chat with Voldie.

Anyways, here are my replies to your fun and excited reviews ;)

Szelij : no worries, I have no intention to kill off Siren. Not yet at least. Who knows, maybe I'll change my mind at some point. Something bad will happen to her at the end, though.

Ali : thank you, you're awesome too :)

Nagini Animagus : thank you as well. I'm glad you like it.

FrozenOnyxPhoenix : I'm assuming you've read ahead and know the answers by now.

Gem: glomps

Friendly Advice Giver : I'm sorry I told you to suck my ass (since chances are that I know you...). I was just in a bad mood. Thanks for the comment, though. I was still relatively young when I started this book (it was right after the fourth came out), so that would hopefully explain the crappiness that is the first few chapters of this fanfic.

Chapter 17: Lessons in Pain

Many days must have passed before Harry started begging; begging to be spared, begging to be killed, and begging for his parents. It had been days in his mind, at least. The pain being so graciously given to him was unbearable, and he felt as though death would've been a kind gesture at this point. Once Rebecca plays with you, you'll be absolutely dying to have me by your side. Siren's last words to Harry haunted him like the remnants of a bad dream, and the words repeated themselves over and over again until Harry was sure he'd go mad – not to say, of course, that he hadn't yet been driven to the brink of insanity by Rebecca's eagerness to make him scream as loud as was humanly possible. He watched as she began to bounce around happily while singing a jolly tune, walking around the room and examining the cages of the other prisoners who were still unconscious. The fact that even Lupin and Sirius were still passed out made Harry wonder if so much time had really passed as he'd originally estimated. People didn't remain unconscious for days at a time, after all, did they? Harry remembered spending days in the infirmary at Hogwarts, but noted that even he had awoken at least once every now and then. Sirius and Lupin had barely budged. Normal people do not remain unconscious for so long . . . do they? Coma patients do, he thought to himself. He really hoped that they weren't so incapacitated.

"Bloody ashes, torn eyelashes, deadly bashes, potato mashes . . . "

Harry fought to lift his head a bit higher so that he could see where Rebecca was. She had let him out of his cage, and was now letting him rest for a while on the floor. Why she was letting him rest, he did not know. Perhaps she was too tired from cutting, pounding, burning, and breaking him to give a damn about putting him back in his cage. As he cocked his head slightly up and to the side, he saw her hovering above him. He didn't know how he had ended up lying on his back. Last he checked, his body had formed a small ball against the floor, but he was now in the middle of the room, and Rebecca wasn't the only one watching him. Slowly moving his eyes past Rebecca, he could see two very familiar faces in the cages behind her. Sirius and Lupin were awake. Sirius was sitting down, his leg looking rather messy, and Lupin was standing, both hands upon the bars of the cage. Harry could have sworn they were still out cold only a few moments ago . . .

"Hmm," he said, his mouth too swollen to form any real words.

"Harry, don't move," Sirius told him, his voice calm and resolute. "Whatever happens, stay where you are. Trust me."

It didn't take long for Rebecca to rush over to their cage and stick her dagger quickly through the bars. Sirius yelled out in pain, though Harry couldn't see what had happened to him. "Be mute!" Rebecca yelled at Sirius, her voice raspy, as though she had been yelling for hours. She looked at Harry, pointing the dagger in his direction. "Over his grave, be mute!"

"What grave?" Harry murmured, feeling very disoriented. He moved on his side, trying to sit up only slightly when he felt something hot smacking him in the forehead. He fell backwards, sliding across the floor a few feet.

"You," Rebecca snarled, her face twisted into an expression of deep loathing. "You will be mute! Be mute, or be dead! It is not up to the hand to decide, young hero."

Harry reached up to rub his head. He gently grazed his fingers across his scar, feeling the lines of it and noting that they were more defined now than they were before. His scar hurt at the touch, and he cringed. His body felt like an entire bruise, and by the way his mind was thinking he was sure that he had something equivalent to a high fever. Random thoughts were running through his head, as though he was trying to read a book and do his Potions homework all at the same time. Head trauma? He thought to himself. Yes, I think so.

Harry looked up at Rebecca, and immediately discovered that his glasses had been lost at some point. Everything was blurry. If he hadn't heard Sirius' voice earlier, he would have now been second-guessing his assumption that Sirius and Lupin were awake. From a distance, they looked like they could have been anyone.

"Sirius!" Harry couldn't help but call out to him, though his words were very slurred. "Sirius, help me!" he cried, trying to stand up. He was able to sit up fairly straight, but his legs did not feel like they would be able to hold him up should he try to stand. He pulled up his pants to expose his ankles, seeing large red marks and specks of blood upon them. Letting his hand touch it gently, he noted that he could not feel a thing. His legs were numb. He choked out a yell, terribly afraid that she had paralyzed him. He backed away as he saw her shadow appear upon his legs, and looked up. She was hovering over him, a dagger in hand. "The piggies want to go home," she said as she crouched down, grabbing one of his feet and holding it in her hands between her knees. Harry could see up her dress, and noticed that she was wearing no underwear. She was fully exposed, and Harry couldn't help but stare for a moment before shaking his head and focusing once again on the dagger within her hands. It was getting closer to his toes, and a sick feeling in his stomach told him that she would not hesitate to cut them all off. He looked at his hands, making sure that his fingers weren't gone. They were still there, but for how long? Rebecca was crazy. She wouldn't spare him.

"This little piggy went to the market," she said slowly, quietly, holding onto one of his toes. She moved her grasp to the next. "This little piggy stayed home." She moved to his big toe, holding it firmly between her thumb and index finger. "This little piggy right here . . . he got cut off, and was thrown all the way down into the sewer . . ."

"No!" Harry yelled, wanting to move his legs but not being able to. He was about to strike her with his hands before he heard the door opening once again. His hands instead moved to his forehead, grabbing at his scar painfully. It was burning like mad, and no wonder. Voldemort had just entered the room. Rebecca immediately stood up and ran to him, looking like she was about to tackle him.

"I made him hurt," she said deviously, licking her lips as she leaned into him, clutching the fabric upon his chest with her hands. "Do you have a present for mummy?"

Voldemort simply stared at Harry, observing Rebecca's work. "Later," he said, pushing her aside gently, much to Rebecca's disappointment. Voldemort eyed Remus and Sirius threateningly. "Try to move, and I'll have you maimed," he warned, his voice low and cold.

"Trying to say we aren't already?" Sirius snapped back daringly, shaking the bars upon his cage viciously with his hands.

Voldemort, with a flick of his wrist, made the cage which held Sirius and Lupin swing wide open. Sirius flew out of it as though an invisible rope was tugging at his mid-section. The door closed before Lupin could escape as well, and Sirius was not thrown up against the wall, hanging in a position that looked like a cross. He let out a yell as Voldemort conjured large, iron nails to pin Sirius' hands and feet to the wall, resembling that of a legendary muggle martyr. With a satisfied grin, Voldemort aimed his wand at Sirius. "Silencio," he whispered nonchalantly, successfully silencing Sirius. That done, he now turned his attention to Harry, who was still grasping desperately at his scar.

"I made him bleed . . ." Rebecca said quietly as she stood at the Dark Lord's side. "I'll be making him bleed more," she added, an insatiable tone to her voice.

"Not now," Voldemort told her sternly, stepping closer to Harry. He crouched down, his head nearly level with Harry's before he reached out to touch the scar upon the boy's forehead, causing Harry's body to jolt as a wave of lightning-hot pain surged through his entire body.

"No . . ." Harry murmured, trying to move his battered body away from his enemy's touch, though without success. He was backed up against a wall, and simply trying to adjust his eyes to the lighting in the room caused him a great deal of physical torment. He was broken, frail, and hopeless. There was no way out of this, and even if there was, Harry had absolutely no motivation to escape.

It seemed as though Voldemort could sense this, and he sighed in a way which would imply that he understood Harry's situation completely. "It is such an unpleasant feeling, is it not?" he asked, withdrawing his finger from Harry's scar. "I, too, once saw the grim reaper shining the glaring light of his scythe into my face. I've stared death in the eyes one too many times in my lifetime, Harry. I know what you must be going through." Inhaling deeply, Voldemort stood up, looking down at Harry with no clear expression or feeling. "It's frightening, knowing that you're going to die," the Dark Lord added, folding his hands calmly behind his back, grasping his wand loosely. It was apparent that he did not feel threatened by Harry now, especially in this state. The boy was as good as dead already. There was nothing he could do to stop Voldemort now. "Believe it or not, Harry, I admire your courage. There is but one thing that I would regret after killing you, and it is that I know I will never meet another wizard quite like you. You have been my greatest foe, and I must say that I shall miss having that. Once you are gone, Dumbledore won't stand a chance, and then nobody in this wide world will be able to stop me. You are my only competition. As much as I shall enjoy not having such competition around, I will undoubtedly miss having something left to conquer; something left to prove myself against."

Exhaling heavily, Voldemort turned his back on Harry. "Siren and I shall rule the world together," he said after a brief pause. "Nobody will stop us. The Slytherins will be avenged, and the faults of our muggle heritage negated." Again he paused, looking at Sirius momentarily, and then to Lupin. It was hard for one to believe that Harry would ever turn on them, but torture had been invented for a reason, and that was to sway the minds of victims – Harry's included. "I shall offer this to you once, and only once, Harry." Voldemort did not turn to face him as he continued speaking. "Join forces with me. We could bring about powerful, new magic, as Salazar and Godric once hoped to do together. Join me, and your friends will be spared. Join me, and you may love my granddaughter with not vice nor guilt. Decline, however . . ." He now started to walk toward the door. "And you shall die with the rest of them, and never see Siren again. I'll come back tomorrow for an answer."

The door opened, and Voldemort exited the room with Rebecca in tow, leaving Harry in a vexing situation. The offer was tempting, but was sacrificing his soul worth protecting his friends? Was morally commending Voldemort's way of life worth having his beautiful Siren in his arms once again?