Water dripped down, echoing loudly against the dank interior of the chamber.

A rat scurried across the floor in some shadowy part of the cell.

The sound of cold, cruel laughter bounced off the walls, falling on deaf ears.

There was a form lying in a puddle on the cold stone floor. The figure's chest barely moved as it struggled for breath. In the dim light of the cell, The figure's dark hair could be seen, disheveled and filthy, with blood sticking it together in some places.

The light shone off the puddle as the figure struggled to stay alive.

It was a deep, dark,

red.

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I shot up into a sitting position, gasping for breath. My body was drenched in cold sweat as I fought to regain control over my breathing

I subconsciously reached a hand up and rubbed it across the back of my head, almost expecting to feel the clotting warm wetness that had clumped my hair together not too long ago.

Come on, Harry. Pull yourself together. This is stupid.

I took a long, deep breath and re-ran my hand through my messy black hair.

Looking around me, I realized it was still dark; still early morning. The air was chill after the previous night's rain, and an icy wind whipped around my 'new' clothes, slipping through the seams and riding up the sleeves forming goose bumps on my skin.

It was all rather refreshing.

I embraced the cold and let it bring me to reality and relax my tensed body. I had always loved the early morning--how it was still dark, but not entirely black. How everything was silent and still, and you feel like you're the only living person in the entire area, at least for a couple hours. I thrived off of this cold, solitary time when the universe was asleep.

I stood slowly, stretching all the kinks out of my joints and muscles, before starting walking again on my lonely way.

After about an hour of walking, I could see a sliver of light rising from the horizon. A powerful gust of wind came and stole the breath from my lungs as it tossed my jacket around like a piece of paper.

I wrapped my arms around myself and continued on into the misty dawn.

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Ron rushed around his room in Grimmauld Place stuffing various items into a large green backpack. It was only a couple of hours since Dumbledore had told them of their 'quest', and only a few minutes until the meeting that he had told Molly to get together began. He had told Ron and Hermione that it would be best to leave during the meeting, as everyone would be busy and no one would be worrying about the two teens. He told them he would explain everything to the Order.

He looked over his shoulder as the door opened and Hermione stepped in, a backpack slung over her shoulders.

"Ready?" She asked. Her face was about as pale as Ron's; they were both extremely nervous.

"Yeah. Jus' about."

"Right." Hermione took a deep breath. "Let's go."

Ron zipped up his backpack and they snuck quietly out of the room. They tip-toed past the kitchen, where they could hear the muffled voices of the Order in the middle of an urgent meeting.

Once they were outside the house and it had shrunk back into invisibility, They broke into a run until they were a few miles away from Grimmauld Place, at which time Hermione looked at Ron with a very serious expression on her face.

"Do you know how to apperate?" Ron cast her an incredulous look before saying "But we haven't learned how yet. I thought we didn't learn how 'till later this year."

"We don't," Hermione looked rather sheepish for a second before continuing. "But I read up and it and I can do it now. If you just hold onto my arm I can get us to Edinburgh a lot faster-"

"Uh-uh!" Ron glared at her. "You better prove you can do it first. I don't want to end up splinched or something!"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Fine." She got a look of deep concentration on her face before vanishing with a loud crack. Ron sat there for a second, His mouth hanging open. A second later, there was another loud crack! and Hermione as standing behind him.

"H-how?.?.? Wh-where did you go?" He stared at her bemused before she answered.

"I went to Bristol and came back. Do you trust me now?" Ron nodded slowly, then stepped forward and gripped Hermione's hand and she squeezed back, then they were gone.

They would bring Harry back.

No matter what.

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A car whizzed by close enough that I felt the heat from the metal.

To say the least, it snapped me back into reality.

I walked until I was well out away from the road, then looked around. I didn't have a clue where I was.

Whatever.

To say that I was exhausted was a bit of an understatement. I had been tortured continuously for several months, escaped, and walked on foot halfway across the whole damn country with minimal food and only two pairs of clothes, one of which I had only obtained a few days previous.

I was ready to friggin' drop.

So, I figured I would hang out here for a while. I didn't really care what happened to me anymore; I refused to think about my past, or about what might happen in my future. I had decided to only live the present about two days ago when nightmares had kept me awake and paranoid for the millionth time.

And right now, I needed money so I could buy food. For that, I needed a job.

I started walking around the town. I found out that I was in Glasgow after seeing a sign.

There wasn't much open, after all it was a little past midnight. After about an hour of wandering, I found a place that was actually open. I figured it was just irony that it happened to be a tattoo/ body art shop. So I wandered towards the building and stepped in.

I squinted at the sudden rush of blinding light. When my eyes adjusted, I looked around. I was in a waiting room of sorts. There were chairs and various magazines, a desk was in the back of the room and a door stood slightly ajar behind it. There was a young woman sitting on a stool behind the desk, reading a magazine. She looked up at me as I entered. She had to be around twenty at the most. She had various piercings covering her face; eyebrows nose, lips, and ears. Her black hair was shoulder length with blue and purple streaks.

"Can I help you?" She asked dully, setting her magazine down irritably.

"Uh, yeah." She seemed taken aback at my appearance and scratchy voice, but shook it off after a moment. "I was wondering if you, uh, well, I was wondering if you had any openings." I finished, rather sheepishly.

She gave me a wyrd look. I guess they didn't often get people asking for jobs at two in the morning.

"Hang on a tick." She turned and walked into the room behind her. A few minutes later, she emerged from the door with a tall, thin man with tattoos everywhere trailing her.

"'Lo. My name's Tom. Samantha says yer lookin' for a job?" His voice was gruff.

I swallowed and said, "Y-yeah."

"Are you any good with drawing? Do you have any experience in the field of body art and the likes?"

I thought for a moment, then said, "Well, my friends-" I tried not to wince at the word. "-always said that I was pretty good at drawing; I can do pretty much everything as long as I have a picture. And I was always drawing on my arms with markers and stuff when I was bored back at home."

He seemed to consider me for a moment before saying "Hold on a mo'." Then he walked back out the door behind him and returned a few seconds later with a sketch pad and pencil. "All right," he said. "I'm gonna ask you to draw a few things..."

After about two hours of drawing various things for Tom, he said "Well, you're sure talented enough. How 'bout this. You come back in the morning, and we'll start your training. You can watch Samantha and Derrin for the first couple of days to get the hang of things here and to see how everything works. When you think you're ready, you can try the equipment on yourself, then on either Sam or Derrin. We open at eleven and close at eleven if there aren't any appointments. Got that?" I nodded. "All right. See you tomorrow, or, well, later today then."

"Yeah. Thanks." And I left the shop to find an alley or someplace to sleep for the remainder of the night.