Chapter 19

Madness at the Malfoy's

Thud! Harry, Cho, and Mr. Malfoy all landed on a hard marble floor. It looked as if they where in the entrance hall of a building about the size of Hogwarts.

"Well, well, well. I was supposed to have taken only one hostage tonight, never the less I say the Dark lord will be pleased. It seems, Potter, That this time you big head has gotten you in to deep for you to get out. I daresay, I hope you enjoy your stay at Malfoy manor. Though I doubt you will be staying very long. I would imagine the Dark lord has other plans of where you will be staying, perhaps, with your Father?"

Harry gaped at him. He could not have been talking about killing Harry or he would have said parents. Was it possible Harry's dad was somehow, miraculously, alive?

"Take him to dungeon 13M." said Malfoy

Macnair, Avery, and Rookwood scuffled over to Malfoy and after stunning Harry, carried him off to wherever dungeon 13M was. Bellatrix Lestrange had just apperated into the hall with Ron, and Hermione.

"Ahh. I see you have retrieved more. I think the Dark lord will be very happy tonight. Very well. Take the two girls to Dungeon 13F

and the Weasley boy to join Potter."

Harry blinked his eyes open. Someone was slapping his face. He peered up. It was him. No, that couldn't be. Harry was Harry. He sat bolt upright. His glasses were on but he still couldn't see properly. His glasses were cracked.

"Reparo!" said a voice.

Everything came into focus. He focused on his surroundings. They were in a medium sized room. There where five stone beds hanging out of one wall. The beds had a hard looking mattress on each, one tiny pillow, and a thin sheet. There was a small dis-repaired bathroom containing a toilet, sink, and shower. A closet with a few pairs of ragy robes was tucked into a corner. A table with five chairs was in the center of the room. Atop the wardrobe was a chess set, a gobstones set, and a set of exploding snap. There were two windows. One was on the door, to let air flow through, and the other seemed to hook into another cell. Eyes on him Harry saw Ron, Ernie, and... Harry's stomach dropped. It couldn't be, he was dead.

"Dad?" said Harry in a dry, croaked, hollow, weak, dead kind of voice. The man nodded. Harry dropped all sense of self-control and dignity. He ran forward and flung himself at his dad. He embraced every moment of it. He never wanted to let go, for he felt if he did his dad would fade away like smoke.

"How, How did you survive?"

"Voldemort had ideas for me. He said when he conquered the world he wanted his own Quidditch team. (between you and me, he's going a little crazy)."

Harry couldn't help but laugh. He could just picture Voldemort sitting in the top box at the world cup watching Harry's dad play.

"Ahh, here's breakfast." Two death eaters had just entered carrying trays. There where all sorts of food.

Harry had some orange juice and a bowl of fruit loops. Ron was talking to Ernie.

"Yeah, you would think they treat us horribly but they want us to be healthy for some reason. I guess Voldemort's going soft."