Disclaimer:

I don't own Harry Potter, and I owe $28,000 in student loans.

I never invented a great new CPU and I have no intention of taking out a life insurance policy on my husband.

No money has rained down from the heavens only to land on my not-so-humble head.

Therefore, hoping to sue me for more than a cracked mug of lukewarm coffee is simply ludicrous.

Chapter Three

Harry – having drifted off to sleep in his cell – woke to find the door open and a hooded Death Eater standing over him. Before Harry could stop him, he found himself the victim of a full body bind. At least I can still glare at the git. Is that Lucius Malfoy?

The Death Eater levitated him and they maneuvered down several passages. Harry did his best to remember what path they took, however, each stone hallway looked exactly like every other stone hallway. He soon wondered if maybe they were going in circles and this was some sort of bizarre Death Eater exercise regimen. It actually made more sense than some of the contortions Aunt Petunia used to put herself through.

They finally came to a large chamber and Harry was dumped unceremoniously at Voldemort's less-than-pristine feet. At least, he assumed that they were Voldemort's feet. He was still under the body bind, and couldn't look up to confirm that it was Riddle's unclipped toenails right in front of his nose. They look about the right shade of cadaverous white...

Voldemort smirked as he aimed his wand at the immobilized form in front of him. His red eyes twinkled with malevolent laughter as he used his tried and true torture technique. "Crucio!"

It didn't take Voldemort long to get tired of watching Harry's eyes water. He was in a dilemma. He could release the boy from Petrificus Totalus and give him a chance to escape, or watch him suffer while not being able to hear his lovely screams. He shook his head, and had Lucius prop Harry up against a nearby pillar.

Voldemort gestured at Lucius, and his hood disappeared. He then turned to Harry and attempted to smile pleasantly at him, knowing that Harry seemed to hate it when he was anywhere near polite. "Do you know what tonight is, Harry?"

Harry wanted to ask how he was supposed to know what tonight was when he didn't even know how long he'd been there, but the body bind held fast.

"Of course you do. How could you not know the phases of the moon with a werewolf for a friend?" Voldemort stood and paced in front of him. "Tonight is the dark of the moon." Harry wondered if the posturing was for the Death Eater's benefit. "Tonight is a special night, a magical night. Tonight, your powers become mine." He swept his arms grandly to the sides. "Tonight, I shall put an end to the ridiculous rumor that you can destroy me."

Harry rolled his eyes as Voldemort continued. "Tonight, I will show everyone that I – the Dark Lord Voldemort – am immortal and unstoppable."

He tuned Voldemort out as he wondered why he seemed so… wordy. Tonight, I will prove that I have no limit to the number of sentences I can start with the word 'tonight.' While I'm at it, I will kill you slowly with my new technique… death by boring speech. If he'd been able to, Harry would have chuckled.

After what seemed like forever, Voldemort wound down. He turned to Lucius. "Is the chamber prepared?'

Lucius bowed, his blond hair falling forward. "Yes, My Lord."

"Did Snape deliver the poisons?"

"Yes, My Lord."

"Move our young friend to his final resting place."

"Yes, My Lord." Lucius flicked his wand and Harry was once again levitated down a maze of hallways, before being settled on a stone altar. Panicking slightly, he found himself grasping desperately at any distraction he could think of. In this case, he was wondering why it was always a stone altar. Why not a wooden altar? Or, how about we use a glass altar? Is plastic a viable magical substance? Is melamine a type of plastic? Would plexiglass work? Or, could we use a steel altar? Steel conducts electricity, wouldn't it conduct magic, too? Doesn't it have iron in it? Didn't we learn that iron stops magic?

He was broken out of his hysteria by Voldemort lying down next to him, naked. Then, he heard Lucius cast a spell and felt a suspicious draft… all over his body. Tell me he isn't planning on stealing my magic that way! I really would rather he just kill me, instead.

Lucius started chanting a long litany of Latin, taking Harry's mind off his other thoughts. He felt strange, like his magic was tingling just beneath the surface of his skin. He could feel the rage and hatred that was Voldemort's magic boiling next to him. He felt Lucius, like still water from the depths of the ocean, standing at his feet. His magic seemed to reach out and blend with the other two, twining about them into ever more complicated knots, while their magics did the same to each other.

Then, the spell ended. He discovered that he could still feel Voldemort beside him and Lucius at his feet. Had the Petrificus spell not been in effect, he probably would have jumped off the altar – and through the stone ceiling – when Voldemort sat bolt upright. "Why didn't it work, Lucius? And, why do I suddenly have a connection to you?"

Lucius faltered. "I'm not certain, My Lord. I followed the directions in the book precisely as they were written…."

Voldemort stalked over to him and yanked the book away. He flipped several pages and discovered – to his horror – that Malfoy performed the spell before the one he'd wanted him to cast. "You fool. You cast a marriage binding spell!" Voldemort began reading desperately, hoping there was a way to disperse the spell.

When he found no way to end the spell, he dropped the book and pointed his wand at Lucius. "Crucio!" It was a tie as to who was more startled when pink and red roses flew out of his wand. Voldemort turned and attempted the same curse on Harry. As Harry had been unable to see what had pelted Lucius' chest, he was stunned when a daisy nearly went up his nose.

With an inarticulate scream – which Harry couldn't help noticing was a bit girlish in pitch – Voldemort stalked out of the room, knocking over a small table full of poisons as he went. As he nearly ran down the corridor, he collided with another one of his Death Eaters. He discovered – happily – that he could still curse Macnair.

Lucius ignored the echoing screams and walked over to Harry. "This should be interesting. I wonder how 'Cissa is going to take my sudden marriage to Voldemort and you? I don't think either of us ever pictured me practicing polygamy, particularly with other men." He picked up the daisy on Harry's face and met his eyes. "If I release the body bind, will you be a good boy and not try to run off? Blink twice for yes."

Carefully, Harry blinked twice. He wasn't sure if he was going to keep the promise, but he didn't know how to get out of the dungeon maze, either. He'd much rather be able to move than stuck staring in whatever direction they pointed him. The ceilings and walls just didn't seem that interesting, so far.

"Finite Incantatem." Harry was happy to sit up and stretch, then try to rub the pollen out of his nostrils. Then he remembered Lucius was still standing there, and his nude form curled up defensively. Lucius sighed. "Really, Potter, what makes you think I want to look at your scrawny self? Nonetheless, I am not returning those rags that you seemed to think were clothes. You may wear this, instead."

Harry gratefully accepted Lucius' cloak and looked around him. Stone pillars surrounded the altar he was sitting on, and there were candles in a circle on the floor. Roses and daisies were everywhere. There was an overturned table on his right with broken phials and puddles of multicolored liquids surrounding it. He eyed Lucius warily, then stood and slowly made his way to examine a tapestry on the far wall.

Watching him out of the corner of his eye, Lucius picked the book up and flipped to the spell he had used. As he reread the Latin, his mind boggled. No wonder the Dark Lord was furious. He found himself debating how long it would take his new husband to realize that his minions could still cause pain to the two of them.

"What's this one?" Snapped out of his reverie, Lucius looked at the tapestry Potter was pointing to. "It's a rendition of the founding of Hogwarts. The tapestry itself is said to date to the sixteenth century, so there's little or no hope that it's accurate."

Potter nodded and examined it more closely for a few moments. Lucius was struck then by just exactly how short the boy was. There was at least a foot of cloth dragging the floor. He frowned, remembering what he looked like naked. "Didn't those muggles feed you?"

Harry shrugged at him. "Not usually. They tried to get me to eat this summer, but I was so used to not eating in their house that I just couldn't do it. It was like asking me to breathe water without gillyweed."

Lucius shook his head. That kind of abuse usually didn't happen in the Wizarding world. If not because of love, then because no abuser wanted to wake up one morning to find that his favorite punching bag could – and would – out duel him. He pondered just how foolish those muggles must have been. How had they not thought of what would happen when the boy came into his power?

He looked at Harry. He was still, staring at Lucius as if waiting for a response. Lucius raised an eyebrow at him and held out a hand. "Well, then, I imagine you must be hungry by now. Come with me and we'll find something to eat."

Lucius didn't allow himself to wonder who was more surprised when Harry stepped closer and took his hand.

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