Chapter Four – Riddles and Torture

Pain.

He lay still, battered by the burning agony radiating from every inch of flesh. The cold stone did little to cool the scorching heat, and even the smallest twitch dared the darkness to return.

Harry cautiously opened his eyes, flinching at the pain that even that small movement caused. He was back in the cell, but now the torches along the walls were lit and cast ominous shadows on the floor.

After a moment the agony subsided a little, though the cold did not lessen, so he risked a little more movement and slowly say up to examine his injuries.

To his surprise, the burns were closing over into new pink skin, though he knew he had been seriously burned to the point of almost having no skin left. The pain remained longer, but that too was fading as the accelerated healing continued.

He pondered this strange new development and decided too early that his pain was over.

A sharp, shooting lance of pain in his chest disproved his conclusion, and he clutched at his chest. Every breath tore raggedly at his lungs, and his heart pounded painfully in his ears. Vaguely, he wondered if he was having a heart attack.

The pain stopped abruptly, leaving him flat on his back and gasping for breath. For a moment he just lay there, gulping in air, before he became aware that he was no longer alone.

"Up, boy," a voice sneered, and pain exploded in his side as the speaker lashed out with a boot. Harry groaned as he felt some of his ribs moving freely of his skeleton, though he tried to stand. He got as far as his knees before another Death Eater cuffed him on the ear, sending him sprawling on the floor.

"Idiot!" the first Death Eater snarled. "The Master wants him conscious!"

"He's still aware," the second argued. "Besides, he was being too slow."

"Be that as it may, the Master's prize is not to be permanently damaged."

They grumbled and bickered some more, but Harry hardly heard a word. Finally, the Death Eaters decided to levitate him along to his destination.

----

When he came to, Harry found himself strapped to a table in a small room. The stench of blood reached his nose, and he suppressed a shudder of revulsion and fear.

"Ah, our young guest awakens," Voldemort's voice hissed in his ear. "So rude of you to leave so soon last time, don't you agree?" Spidery fingers touched Harry's cheek, and he feebly tried to jerk his head away as agony spiked in his scar. "Don't worry, Harry – I'll make sure you stay for everything I'm going to share with you."

Macnair moved into his sight, brandishing a sharp ceremonial dagger in obvious delight and anticipation. "You see, Harry," Voldemort's deceptive tones continued, "my Death Eaters and I have not had such an important guest in so long, we want to have a little fun before you have to leave us."

"No thanks," Harry managed to gasp out. "I think I'll pass on that, if you don't mind."

Voldemort chuckled. "Ah, but you misunderstand – we are going to bestow upon you a great honor, the highest we can give you. Refusal is not an option."

Macnair stepped forward and lowered the dagger to Harry's right hand, placing the point on the knuckle of his little finger. Harry tried to jerk away from the bite of cold steel, but the restraints prevented him from even twitching.

"Proceed," Voldemort ordered.

The dagger descended.

Harry's scream echoed off the cold stone walls, and blood stained the already soiled room.

"Now," Voldemort purred as Harry's cry faded to a choked whimper, "we shall begin to see results."

- - - - - -

Chapter Five – Searching

The scene that greeted Hermione upon her early arrival at Hogwarts was a frantic one. Order members dashed from place to place, sending owls and cross-checking maps. One man that Hermione did not recognize was reading a list from a scroll as another man pored over a diagram.

"Miss Granger," Dumbledore said, looking up from reading a letter. "So good to see that you and your family have arrived safely. No problems, I trust?"

"None involving Death Eaters," Molly Weasley answered.

"Hermione!" She turned to see Ron sitting at the Gryffindor table, sorting through owl post. He didn't stop or get up to greet her, which by itself told her how serious the situation was. All she knew was that Mrs. Weasley had appeared at her house and told them to pack anything they needed. When asked why, she'd only replied, "There's a safety problem."

"Ron, what's going on?" she demanded. "Why all the commotion? Is anyone going to get Harry too?"

All the noise stopped, and everyone stared at her. "We are trying to determine Mr. Potter's whereabouts," McGonagall said slowly, "but that will be rather difficult, seeing as the Dark Lord is holding him captive."

It took a moment for the words to sink in, but when they did it all made sense. The rushed departure. Mrs. Weasley's refusal to elaborate. The mayhem and chaos that now reigned at Hogwarts.

At the reminder of the severity of the situation, everyone went back to rushing around. Hermione sat down next to Ron. "Have they gotten a lead yet?" she asked after a moment.

Ron shook his head. "I don't think so. Snape's been trying to narrow down the Death Eater meeting sites, but so far they haven't found where You-Know-Who is keeping Harry."

There was a heavy knock on the door to the entrance hall, and it swung open partway to let a dark-robed figure stagger in. He swayed dangerously on his feet as he walked towards them, and eventually collapsed at the door of the Great Hall.

"I know where Potter is," he gasped out, then fainted.

It was Draco Malfoy.