Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Harry Potter characters. Nor do I claim them to be my creations (only in my warped and odd imagination!)

Chapter Seven Dungeons and Dunderheads

The dungeon doors creaked open suddenly. Godric shifted his weight and glanced to Helga and Rowena, he harboured no illusions of what their captors were capable of. And if the dire need for him to sacrifice himself to protect the female founders or Ahawn, Godric would gladly take the mantle.

Two black robed men came in back first dragging a limp body along carelessly. It took a warning glance from Godric to warn Helga not to react in outrage.

Ahawn sat up straight his steady grey eyes watched in morbid fascination as the body was dropped with a thump! Even at the violence of that movement Godric was pleased to hear a weak moan escape the crumpled body.

The two tormentors turned to the body and propped him up against the wall and chained his wrists with the provided tools of the trade.

The strange unfairness of the situation grieved Gryffindor. Here he was perfectly conscious and fit and it was the presumably innocent weak boy that was punished further. He shook his head as the boy was left to drop. Too weak to hold himself on his own legs the boy sagged pitifully.

"You have a problem?" one of the captors spat in Godric's face.
Godric started up into that hateful white boned masked, and simply shook his head in the negative.

The two captors seemed pleased with this result and left the chamber, the door locking with a bang as they left.

For the first time Godric stood and went to investigate the door.
"You're wasting your time, Godric," Rowena sighed, "It's locked. No magic can aide us out of here."
Godric ignored her and gripping the bars looked out. No one was in the hall…

Very quickly and guiltily Godric whipped back around to the boy they had chained mercilessly to the wall.
"What are you doing Godric?" Rowena admonished.
"Releasing him," Godric replied tersely and turned back to survey the lock.
"But…"
"It's cruel what they have done to him," Godric retorted. "Helga release these locks and I'll catch the boy…"

Helga looked apologetically at Rowena as she moved towards Godric and the unconscious boy. "I agree with Goddy," she said simply, wiping her hands nervously on her dress.

Rowena sniffed loudly. "He's probably a mass murderer or something."
"Don't be stupid, Rowena my dear, it does not become you," Godric snapped and turned pleasantly to Helga, "Ready my dear?"

Helga nodded and with a simple incantation the chains unlocked themselves and the boy fell limply into Godric's arms.

Godric lay the boy carefully flat on his back and Ahawn came to peer cautiously over his shoulder. Godric however had eyes only for the boy's condition. His masses of raven hair were mattered with sweat, blood and dirt; his face was smeared likewise; his clothes were torn and bloodied and his chest quivered slightly as he breathed.

"This is the same boy whom I saw in the Entrance Hall," Godric announced gravely and then added more gently, "Poor soul."

"Helga pass me the water jar our generous captors left us," Godric commanded. Helga knew this tone of voice and she dare not protest. She fetched the water jar and watched as Godric ripped his own shirt so that he had a thin strip of fabric. He poured a little water onto his rag and washed the boy's face with a frown of bitterness.

"What have they done to him?" asked a tentative frightened voice in Godric's ear. Godric turned to Ahawn a comforting hand on his son's arm. It was a pitiful gasp that broke the father-son reverie.

Godric turned his head back in time to see the boy's eyelids first flutter and then snap open. Direct and defiant eyes bored into Godric telling him the boy was still lucid and unbroken.

Sighing heavily Godric dabbed the boy's forehead, even in the boy's determined state Godric had seen the fever hidden in the obvious anguish and suffering. The boy licked his lips slowly when he realised he was not in immediate danger. "Where am I?" he croaked.

"Somewhere in a dungeon." Godric's reply brought a tight lipped smile to the lad's face.
"Who are you?" The boy's expression turned from pained to inquisitive.
"I'm Ahawn!" Ahawn said leaning over his father's back, "Are you feeling all right?"
The boy snorted too violently causing severe pain in his torso. "Yeah, peachy," he whimpered sarcastically.

"Can you tell us your name?" Godric promptly gently.
For a moment Harry stared at Godric as if he was completely mad and then turned his head to look at the two female founders. "H – Ha – Harry P- Po – Pot – Potter…" A streak of pain laced through the boy's body he cringed and glanced away embarrassed.

"Harry…" Godric placed a reassuring hand on the boy's shoulder. Harry turned to him with a teary gaze.
"Harry how bad is it?"

As if to answer Harry rolled onto his knees and scrambled to an isolated corner where he promptly emptied his stomach. He wiped his mouth with his sleeve and retched again, sending shivers of pain up his spine.

"That bad, ha?" Godric said ruefully from where he was sitting. Harry spat out the remaining bad taste in his mouth, although unsuccessfully.

Helga took the water pitcher to Harry. Harry accepted without directly looking at her and gulped down as much as possible. He choked and retched again, almost screaming as he did so. His ribs felt like they were on fire.

Godric took Harry's shoulders gently and lead him back to lean against the wall and sat next to him. "There is a spell I can use to help," Godric offered, "It won't hurt."
Harry looked up at him and almost managed a grimace, "Great kill me while you're at it!"
Godric frowned. "Our situation isn't that bad, boy!"

Harry looked at Godric as if he had two heads. It was bad enough the stranger had no recognition of his name.

"I would be better of dead," Harry retorted with conviction and shuddered at the thought of the hours that lay ahead of him.
"What's that suppose to mean?" Rowena returned from her corner.

Harry looked at her as if for the first time comprehending there were more than two people in the room. "I am Harry Potter…"
"And…" Ahawn insisted.
"The boy-who-lived." Harry shook his head and continued when he saw his words had no meaning to the strangers, "The prophesised saviour of the wizarding world…"
"So…?"
"Our captors are the lackeys Voldemort."

"Who?" Ahawn scrunched his nose up in amusement.
"Lord Voldemort… proud owner of the greatest black wizard our world has ever known…"

"Godric…" Rowena whispered softly in her corner, "I think we have a huge problem…"

Harry sniffed in reply and looked to his feet. "Hogwarts was supposed to be the most secure place on this earth… we've got nothing left." Harry looked among the strangers, "Dumbledore is the only one Voldemort has any reason to fear… Hogwarts the only place he could not penetrate… now there looks like there is nothing…NOTHING!"

"Too right, Potter," a voice snarled through the open bars. The door creaked open and Harry scrambled to his feet to face the Death Eater.

It was with a stroke of apprehension that Harry recognised Lucius Malfoy and the frames of Crabbe and Goyle, Malfoy's very own lap dogs.

"Well, well, well, Mr Potter," Malfoy leered through his bone white mask, "We meet again."
"I must admit I am bitterly disappointed Malfoy," Harry snapped his courage returning ten-fold, "I was hoping your soul had been sucked out by a dementor with your little stay in Azakaban."

Malfoy struck out, the end of his cane connecting with Harry's cheek bone. Harry fell to the ground and turned his face away from his attacker.

"How terribly awful it must be for you Potter. You always put yourself out to save the school… to sacrifice yourself for the good of others around you." Malfoy walked around Harry perimeter slowly, exaggerating each heavy footstep. Harry bowed his head forward so that he would not have to look at the leering Malfoy. "The pity with sacrifice Harry, is that you always end up being kicked in the guts. In allowing Diggory and the pathetic house of Hufflepuff." (Malfoy was interrupted by an angry humph from Helga Hufflepuff), "to share in a Gryffindor victory, you killed the Hufflepuff champion… if you had not attempted to save your loving godfather last year, he would never had died…"

Harry knew that he was being baited into replying to them but he kept his mouth tightly shut.

"Their blood is on your hands, Harry…You killed them…"

"SHUT UP!" Malfoy looked victorious. "SHUT UP! HOW DARE YOU TALK ABOUT THEM! HOW DARE YOU? PUREBLOOD FILTH!"

Harry felt Malfoy's boot contact in the middle of his back and he was sprawled forward. But Harry was reckless in his anger. "You are nothing but a common filthy… murderer… and a shame…a blot to the wizarding name."

Malfoy pressed Harry's face into the hard stone of the floor. "Tell me sacrifice where are the students Dumbledore so carelessly sheltered here?"
"Escaped," Harry hissed, "Gone… vanished…"
"Tell me how and the dark lord will make your passing easier."
"Go and wallowing in your own…"

Thankfully Harry never got to finish his sentence. The dungeon doors opened again to reveal Professor Snape.

"Having fun are we?" Snape asked with an oily smile he turned deliberately to Harry. "I have my own ways of getting answers Malfoy the dark lord requests that you give me some time alone with him."

Malfoy looked annoyed by the prospect, but with a swish of his hand his lackeys followed him out of the dungeon. Snape smirked knowingly as they left and turned to Harry.

"Now for play time."

Harry looked up at his ex-professor with pure hatred and fury in his eyes.
"Traitor..."

"Don't be such a dunderhead Harry," Snape replied silkily, "It could get you hurt one day."