Blood and Bullwhips.

By Cataclysmic.

Harry Potter.


Chapter 1: Chinese Water Torture.

Not all torture involves blood or bullwhips. There are forms of torture which leave no physical scars on their victims.

Mental torture, deprivation, solitude all forms of torture which can be inflicted leaving no physical scars as evidence. There are others of course, Chinese water torture for example, the slow drip, drip, drip of water.

He could hear it now, drip, drip, drip.

He had read in a book somewhere when he was younger, probably in the public library attempting to hide from Dudley that the Chinese and later the Japanese used water torture as a last resort when torturing for information. It was relatively low budget, only requiring...

Drip...

A bucket,

Drip...

With a hole in it,

Drip...

Filled with water,

Drip...

The drops of water eventually drove the victim mad apparently.

Drip...

That he could believe just from listening to the steady drip, drip, drip of the Dursley's bathroom tap, normally he wouldn't even notice but being locked your room and strapped to your bed didn't leave you with a lot to do.

Drip...

One of the advantages of water torture is that it leaves no physical signs of torture, the victim could go home, in a body bag of course, and no one would suspect they had talked before they died...

Drip...

One little hole in the head, execution style and no one would suspect a thing.

Drip...

Of course, the Dursley's probably didn't mean to torture him until he went mad, not only would he be more of a danger to them mad, but they would also fear the reactions of his 'freak' friends.

Drip...

Nothing, it seemed was going his way lately.

Drip...

Sirius had died, mainly as a result of mass stupidity, his own, Sirius's and Dumbledore's.

Drip...

As far as he was concerned, in times of crisis the brains of intelligent witches and wizards everywhere slipped out their ears.

Drip...

Common sense for sure was lost to them; never did they even think to inform their supposed saviour of what was going on.

Drip...

It was like they expected him to actually win this battle against the Dark Lord with no thought at all on dumb luck, just like the first time.

Drip...

He wondered when the Dursley's would be back, they had left sometime early in the morning and judging by the amount of light in his room it was now past noon.

Drip...

A power the Dark Lord knows not, he had thought a lot about that. Just because Voldemort didn't know about it didn't mean anyone else wouldn't know what it was. Voldemort wasn't the source of all knowledge after all.

Drip...

Why was he fighting Voldemort again?

Drip...

Was he losing it? He knew why he fought against Dumbledore

Drip...

Dumble? No he fought against Voldemort.

Drip...

Voldemort.

Drip...

Voldemort.

Drip...

He heard a car turn up the drive.

Drip...

Maybe he wouldn't have to listen to the water for much longer; he would have something else to listen

Drip...

Maybe he wouldn't going to go mad after all.

Drip...

But he wouldn't count on it.

Drip...

His thoughts got more and more fragmented

Drip...

He couldn't follow his own logic anymore.

Drip...

Drip...

Drip...

The Dursley's came bustling into the house

Drip...

For hours they hovered downstairs before,

Drip...

Retiring to bed.

Drip...

Three sets of snores reached Harry's ears

Drip...

But above it all, all he could hear was a steady,

Drip...

Drip...

Drip...


Hey, hope you like it this is just a little fic to commemorate the end of my formal schooling :( no more highschool!

This story will be continued, there are errors in spelling and grammar in this chapter and the ones I know about anyway are intentional and are meant to reflect Harry's mental state.

Reviews are always nice, and always appreciated.