Harry lay on the icy dungeon floor, his sleep plagued with nightmares and his conscious driving him insane with guilt.
*** dream ***
He was in a dark, frightening forest filled with the eerie sounds of a cozeness wind sweeping through the trees. He could fell his heart begin to beat at an alarming rate, a sign that an unknown danger would soon be upon him. The tension of the moment filled him until he could hold no more, and when it was about to take control, a warm comforting hand was placed on his shoulder. He turned quickly startled, backing away on horror at the sight that met his eyes.
There stood his mother, her useless skin hanging off her as if its weight had exceeded itself. Almost as though her body was burning from the inside out, her skin becoming too profuse, melting dripping, falling off her blood wet bones. Sections of muscles and tendons were visible through the stretches of skin that was bleeding heavily. Her eyes, far too big for her flaccid face, were staring at him in such hatred that Harry backed away further. His hands reached out for some unseen sanctuary behind him. She stumbled wobbly towards him. She was unsteady on her feet as though she had not walked in quite some time.
"You," her rotting hand rose, trembling and tremorous towards him, "You did this to me." Her voice rasped, filling the evening air with a horrible hatred. Harry shook his head unsteadily. Her skin was starting to darken, turning black and crumbling. She stumbled once more towards him, causing her decaying skin to peel off her like a snake shedding its skin, only to find it has no more left.
Her muscles underneath were a putrid, rotting green interwoven with bleeding black veins creating a messy tapestry of death and disgust. Harry staggered backwards, away from his moldering mother. His back hit something warm and wet. He saw blood dripping down his hands. His father was standing behind him, his state the same his wife's. his dad said nothing, only stared at him with the same hatred that was present in his mothers eyes.
"I, I, no! I didn't, no!" Harry managed to choke out as his parents advanced upon him. He crumpled to the ground, shaking his head in a dreaded denial. "I, I d-didn't mean to," he sobbed, the bodies just continued unflinchingly forward, "I-, I'm-" but his words were cut off when he was brought out of his nightmare when bitter foot shot out and hit the side of his face.
*** end dream***
Harry sat up suddenly, a wand surprising him by appearing right between his eyes. He was still addled by his dream, but less so than he might have been a year ago, he was getting much better at being aware of his surroundings at all times. Lucius Malfoy's menacing voice broke the damp stillness of the dungeon.
"I was sent to bring you up to the dark lord. He gave me permission to punish you if you gave me any trouble." He smirked evilly down at Harry, causing him to look up at Lucius in his most unimpressed manner.
"Good, I am happy for you, truly. Just wake me up if you actually have something for me to hear that might be worth my time. He snorted in obvious incredulity. Lucius just glared at him again as Harry made an attempt to go back to sleep. He was going to die today, and he didn't want to meet his parents looking like shit. He allowed a small smile to grace his lips at the thought of his parents. Lucius became enraged.
"Don't you smirk at me you little brat! Crucio!" Harry felt the pain storm through him, but he just lie there. He deserved everything he got. There was no use striving to rectify a lost cause. Malfoy got more and more incensed at every moment that there was a lack of reaction from Harry, and Harry paid dearly for it. Lucius spent the next half an hour torturing Harry in new, experimental muggle ways. "A way even low enough for you," as Lucius put it between the burning rod and the whips, and when he was finished, Harry looked broken. You could hardly see a patch of skin that wasn't bruised or bleeding. Harry smiled to himself. Just a few more hours and it would be all over, just a few more hours.
Upstairs Voldermort was busy planning for his returning debut into the Wizarding world. Everything was going as planned. Severus was going to cast the spell in Hogwarts at exactly 6:30 when it would be sure that everyone would be in the great hall eating dinner. He was extremely pleased with his letters to the ministry of magic from Dumbledore, inviting them to dinner, not many people would have been able to forge Albus Dumbledore's signature so accurately. He smiled to himself; this was going to be a very grand debut indeed.