Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize in this story, or I'd be rich as heck right now, wouldn't you say?

Chapter Eight

The pain was excruciating. If he knew how to make the pain go away, he would, but he couldn't. They stripped him of everything and put him into this room—this mad room where he was strapped to some kind of machine that stretched him until he couldn't help but scream, the noise reverberating against the bare walls.

The man standing in front of the machine held up a hand and whoever was working the machine let it go slack. He panted hard, glaring at the man with the pale skin and white-blond hair. Lucius Malfoy was one with no mercy and he wished he were free so he could tackle this man and punch him until he was unconscious.

Lucius grinned and stepped up to his side. It was an evil grin; one of those that you wish you could just put a wad of spit into.

"So, Harry Potter," he said, "are you going to tell me where she is?"

Harry growled. "You're never going to have her. I don't know why you want her, but you leave her out of this."

"Ah," Lucius said, now pacing the floor, "so you love this woman and you are trying to save her from her fate. Well, she deserves, no doubt."

Harry didn't say anything—he didn't want to egg this monster on. After several moments of pacing and faced the prisoner again.

"She is one of the strongest Aurors. There hasn't been one to live up to the famous 'Mad Eye' Moody. And she's just as bad as him, putting the most faithful to the Dark Lord in Azkaban. I'm sure she'll get an award someday for her deeds," Lucius exclaimed.

"What do you want with her? I'm the one you want, not her," Harry said.

"You are right, as usual, Potter, but being noble isn't going to save anybody. It never really did. Do you understand that basic simplicity, Potter?" Lucius asked.

"No, of course I don't," Harry growled, not wanting to give the enemy anything. "What else do you expect from me? I'm never giving you any information whatsoever."

"I see, so you want to play that game, do you, Potter?"

Silence. It was better to be killed and not say anything…don't say anything, Potter, whatever you do, Harry thought. He didn't want to be killed, but…

"Alright, then, we're going to play that game, Potter." Lucius turned to the man working the machine and gave him a nod.

The machine started up and Harry felt his bones begin to creak and stretch. Then came the ringing in his ears. It was too much, way too much, the pain…and Harry began to scream.

Harry screamed and sat up. He slowly began to calm down once he realized where he was. He was in Hermione's apartment, safe and sound. Nothing was going to get him here—at least he didn't think so.

Slowly everything came back to him and he remembered that he and Hermione had a fight earlier and she had left in an outrage, saying something about having to meet Dumbledore and for him to rest up and by the time he woke up, she'd be back.

Glancing at the clock on the end table, Harry noticed that it was noon. Hermione should be home by now.

"Hermione? Are you here?" Harry called into the apartment, but there was no answer. A small wave of panic rose within him. What happened to Hermione? Did anything happen to her on her way to Dumbledore's?

Just then, the phone rang and Harry jumped. Standing he walked over to the phone and picked the phone up.

"H—hello?" he said.

"Harry? But this couldn't be, you died…Harry, this is Dumbledore. How did you—well, never mind. Is Hermione there?" Dumbledore's rose from the earpiece.

"I thought she was with you—that's what she said when she left, and then I fell asleep and I woke up and she hadn't come back yet," Harry said, knowing somehow that the other side had gotten her.

"Dear God," Harry heard Dumbledore say. "Listen, Harry, please come to Hogwarts. I'm sure you remember where it is. There are so many things I want explained, especially you coming back, Harry."

"But, professor, what if Hermione's being tortured right as we speak. They would kill her before we ever get the chance to save her!" Harry exclaimed.

Harry could hear Dumbledore forcing himself to breath slowly. It was odd that Harry was trying to do the same thing. Great minds think alike, he guessed.

"I know, Harry, I know. I am an old man, and my choices might not be as keen as the ones I used to make. But please, would you come?" Dumbledore pleaded.

Harry fell silent, thinking. He knew that he should go and find Hermione—to see where she went. He had an odd inkling that she had gone to the Malfoys, but it was obvious she took the instructions with her—even she wasn't that good with memorizing things in a short period of time. And anyways, he, Harry, had a lot of explaining to do about what had happened to him and everything. Maybe it would help in finding Hermione.

"Fine, I'll come, Professor," Harry said finally.

Harry could hear the relief in Dumbledore's voice as he spoke. "I'll be forever grateful. I'll see you in a few, and please, be careful, it's dangerous times."

You could say that again, Harry thought. He said goodbye to Dumbledore before hanging up and turned around. Making sure he had his wand and a few other things, Harry hurried out the door and headed towards Hogwarts.

Author's Note: Happy Easter to everybody, I hope this chapter will satisfy you all. Happy reading.