Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to Harry Potter, as they belong entirely to J.K Rowling and I am making no money from this fanfiction.
A/N This is my first fanfiction, so please consider that if you review. Any helpful commits (grammer, spelling and storyline criticisms etc) would be appreciated. If anyone wants to beta this work please let me know. I hope you enjoy it and I will try and update regularly.
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Chapter 1: At Home with the Dursley's or with Voldemort?
Harry sat on his bed looking out at the cold dark night. Thinking about the events of fifth year. Playing the 'what if' game. What would have happened if he had trusted Professor Snape? What if he had learnt occlumancy would Sirius still be alive?
He felt so guilty. He could have prevented Sirius falling through the veil. The Department of Mysteries had been a complete stuff up and the bottom line was that it was all his fault.
Harry considered his actions in Dumbledore's office at the end of last year. He knew that his actions had been completely over the top. He knew that Dumbledore was only trying to protect him, it was just that he was so frustrated with the way Dumbledore had behaved towards him the entire year. With the events of first, second, third and forth years at Hogwarts he had come to see Dumbledore as mentor, someone to look up to. But then, we he desperately needed Dumbledore's help, he had found that he could no rely on it. Dumbledore expected him to defeat Voldemort but did not offer to help him. Harry just did not know what to do.
His thoughts then drifted over to Snape and the pensive incident. He could not believe that his father had acted like such a jerk. In many ways, Snape had every right to be as angry as he was towards Harry. He had invaded his privacy- his memories. Although Snape had seen many of his memories during occlumancy lessons, he was trying to teach him (as much as Harry hated to admit that fact). One thing he knew, however, was tat he owed Snape an apology, even if Harry also knew that it was incredibly unlikely that Snape would even listen to his apology, let alone except it.
Just when Harry was starting to drift to sleep he heard something coming from outside. The 'popping' noise could surely only be related to the sound of people apparating. He jumped up, looking for his wand, but suddenly remembered his Uncle locking it in the cupboard under the stairs, despite the 'warnings' from the Order at the beginning of the summer holidays. A feeling of dread began to flow through him. There was no way this would be the Order. Hedwig was at Ron's house after delivering a message and there was no way he would be able to make it to Mrs. Figg's house without one of the intruders seeing him.
He heard footsteps come up the stairs and the three shouts of 'Avada Kedavra' cast upon the Dursley's. Harry braced himself for what was to come. There was no where to go.
Harry's door crashed down as there was a loud 'bang'. At three Death Eaters entered his rather small room.
"Well, well, it seems little Potter is without his wand" said a Deatheater that sounded remarkably like Lucius Malfoy, although Harry had thought that he was in Azkaban. The Death Eaters had obviously broken into the cupboard under the stairs, as the Deatheater whom Harry suspected was Lucius Malfoy was twirling Harry's wand in his hand.
"It is such a shame we were ordered not to 'play' with him before we returned him to the Dark Lord" with that the Deatheater shouted "Stupefy" and Harry felt everything go black.
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Harry awoke in a room that was devoid of light, except for a small line that crept under the door. Feeling around the small two by two room Harry realised that his chance of a lucky escape this time would be very slim. It was unlikely Voldemort would leave a Portkey lying around a second time for Harry to use to escape. Plus he did not even have his wand.
The sound of a jerking lock startled Harry from his thoughts. The door groaned open to reveal to Death Eaters, their faces hidden by the characteristic white masks that Harry so intensely hated.
"Get up" ordered one of the Death Eaters, as the other came towards Harry reaching up to drag Harry along. Harry reluctantly moved to his feet.
Harry was led through a maze of corridors until they came across two large medieval style doors with carvings on them. 'Typical' Harry thought, 'Voldemort would of course have a huge throne room'. The Death Eaters pushed Harry through the doors. Harry was instantly hit with a wash of pain through his scar. As he looked up, he met Voldemort eye to eye.
Voldemort appeared to have regained his original form. Gone was the snake-eyed face that Harry had last seen at the Graveyard at the end of fourth year. Instead, Voldemort looked like a slightly older version of Tom Riddle.
"Harry, good to see you" Voldemort said with a curling smile. Voldemort may have regained his earlier appearance but his eyes still held the same level of cruelty that had once earlier.
Harry felt his insides clench, the pain from his scar was becoming unbearable. Harry felt himself fall to his knees. He did not wish to show weakness but could do nothing to stop his body from collapsing. Voldemort seemed to take absolute delight in Harry's predicament.
"Well, if I remember, I seem to owe you a few presents, one perhaps for the fact that you did not die when I tried to kill you when you were one, then your first year, your second year and finally the graveyard." With that Voldemort shouted "Crucio" not once, but four times. Harry felt the immense pain immediately, as though it were tearing his insides out. It was worse then he had ever felt before, far worse then it had felt in fourth year. The pain seemed to go on and on, until Harry began to feel himself drifting. With that, Harry fell into blissful unconsciousness.
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