Thanks everyone for the (SHAME-US)/(SEE-MUS) Reviews. I still think it's the second one though.

Dedicated to Kelley again! HI KELLEY!

Chapter 9

Harry and Voldemort were alone, were in a Dark blue, circular room. It was windowless, and cold, and the center floor had a huge star pentagram on it. Harry was wearing a white ritual robe, and Voldemort supported a long billowy black one.

"Step on to the side opposite of me," Voldemort ordered. Harry stepped over hesitantly. "Good, now stare into my eyes and wait to speak until I say my first line. You do remember what you have to say?"

Harry nodded.

"Ego take vestrum animus ex tu," Voldemort said, not breaking eye contact.

Harry gathered up his magical core, as Voldemort had instructed and said, "Ego volutarie tribuo meus animus huc tu." As the lines went on, Harry remembered what Voldemort had said to him. That he would kill Harry, and raid every house until he found the location of the order. (If he refused that is) He said he would raid every house, to add some persuasion to the deal. Harry knew he couldn't die. He was the prophesized one; the only one that could kill Voldemort. He needed to live.

Harry and Voldemort finished the last line together, and a huge white light erupted around Harry. He felt pain bubble inside of him, as though the light was burning his insides. It circled around him several times, until it shot back inside him again. The impact felt like the pelting of a boulder. Seconds later, the huge white light burst from his chest, tearing it open, and sealing itself again. The light circled around Voldemort, before sinking into him like a sponge.

Harry sank to the ground. It was a painful experience. Hey! Harry thought, I can still think freely.

"Only for now Harry, only for now. Treasure your freedom for the next few days." Voldemort said, reading Harry's thoughts. "Hmm. Now let's try this out. Stand up." Harry felt himself rise to his feet, although a bit hesitantly. "Turn around." And Harry did so. He hated being used as a puppet, but it was to late now.

"Stay there." Harry felt he couldn't move. He watched as Voldemort left the room, in a hurried pace. It was only a few seconds before he arrived, with a little boy who looked the age of six or seven. He threw the little boy on the ground, which looked terrified.

"Well Harry, we have your first torture victim. Proceed." Voldemort said, tossing Harry his wand. "Oh, you can move now." Voldemort ordered, as he saw the wand clank against Harry's arm, and fall to the ground.

Harry was just as terrified as the little boy. He wasn't one to torture. Thinking of a plan, he slowly picked up his wand from the ground. And slowly stood up as well. He slowly faced the boy-

"Get on with it," Voldemort shouted impatiently.

Harry found himself raise his wand and shout Rictussempera all in one quick motion. The boy began to laugh and laugh. Harry had cast the tickling charm. It was after all some form of torture, or else Harry wouldn't have been allowed to perform the spell. Voldemort glared at him and muttered the cruciatious curse. He watched as Harry writhed and wreathed on the ground.

"All right potter, for that little act, I want you to perform your strongest cruciatious curse on the filthy muggle."

Ah, so the boy was a muggle. The poor boy didn't have any idea what was going on. Harry wasn't sure which was worse. Being a muggle and under Voldemort's wrath, or being a wizard. Knowing, or remaining completely clueless and uninformed. He chose the first choice. He was always kept in the dark, and hated it.

Harry felt himself unwillingly shout crucio, and he watched the effects of the cruciatious curse on the little boy. All the while, feeling horrible of his doings. This curse was much different from the time he tried to use an unforgivable on Bellatrix Lestrange. Bellatrix only stumbled a bit and grimaced. And it was certainly a lot different than when he failed to curse Snape. This time, he could feel the strength of this spell, the power erupting from him.

Harry tried to end it, but found he couldn't. He was unable to tell whether he enjoyed the power coming from him or if he just couldn't stop because there had been no order from Voldemort. Harry hoped it was the latter. Although it did feel good to bring his pain of Sirius's death on another's shoulders. No, Harry knew he that he could never enjoy something like this.

"S-Stop," Harry managed to utter out to Voldemort. Voldemort only laughed and shook his head. Harry watched in horror as the curse continued, and strengthened even from his anger. The boy's screaming filled the room, and echoed around. Harry felt as though it continued for hours, although it was only several minutes. Harry wondered what the effects of the curse would be: insanity, death, or severe damage?

"Stop!" the boy screamed as he wiggled around on the floor. "Please Stop! What do you want! PLEASE!"

Harry could not stand the little boy's begging. It only made everything worse for him. The boy's screams began to die down though, to soft whimpers. And then nothing. The boy stopped moving completely. I killed him, Harry thought mournfully, I killed this little boy.

"That was very good Harry," Voldemort said putting a hand on Harry's shoulder. Harry found he couldn't shrug it off. He could only stand there, his face expressionless.

"Now I want you to walk back to your cell, and stay there. No detours on the way." Voldemort said, supporting an almost frightening smirk on his face.

Harry did just that, leaving the blue circular room, and walking through slightly less familiar halls. They had after all, moved Headquarters to where Harry did not know. Harry found he did not miss the picture of the man with the rough face and raggy black hair who laughed at Harry whenever he passed. That reminded him a bit of his fifth and fourth year at Hogwarts, when everyone would scatter away from him, or laugh at him and such. Pointing and ridicule and fear. He was used to it.

When Harry was back at his cell, he found the chains wrap around him again. In the cell, he had a lot of thinking time. This time was limited though, as the soul transfer would be complete then. Harry every so often found little wispy white strings of air that reminded him of his encounter with the dementors in his third year. And how he and Hermione had saved Sirius from the ministry and the Dementors kiss.

That's how Harry's life would be. As though the Dementor's kiss had been ordered on him. He would be left like a shell, with and inside. Harry had no hopes anything would turn out all right. Harry admitted it. He had a lot of power. And if he had been a bookworm and study crazy Hermione, he might have been as powerful as Dumbledore. He did although, have that power balled up inside of him, and Voldemort knew it.

"Potter," Harry looked up to see Professor Snape from the other side of the bars. "I heard you actually went through with it. The boy-who-lived is to weak."

Harry remained quiet.

"I tried to help you escape, Potter!" he said Harry's name with disgust, "Not to long ago, when your attempt to summon that mangy werewolf backfired. Those shields were of my doing. You would have escaped, if you had not turned back to save the Longbottom boy. That took a lot of magic boy, and they just began to wear as you stepped foot out that door. You had your chance for escape; you sealed your fate."

Harry lowered his head as he saw Snape turn away, and walk down the hall. If he had continued forward, and didn't stop for Neville, would Snape have saved Neville…? Was Neville even alive? Harry seriously doubted it. Bellatrix probably performed what she had done with his parents.

Harry was left to dwell in his thoughts.

"Ron!" Hermione shouted from the other room. He was studying books, (Reluctantly though) while Hermione rummaged through anywhere she may have thought some leftover items would be found from the beginning of their fifth year. They had decided to try to destroy the Horcruxes. Even though, they hadn't a clue where to start or how to destroy one.

Ron ran into the room to see Hermione banging her palm against her head and muttering, "Stupid… Stupid… Stupid!"

"Well, what?" Ron asked impatiently.

"Mundungus! Remember the stolen artifacts? All we have to do is hunt him down at the next order meeting. He is out of Azkaban, and I might have caught a glimpse of him at a meeting. We could contact him actually. Say we want to do some business with him!"

"Why we don't even know if those are Horcruxes he's stolen? We don't even know what's a Horcruxes, were just hoping to find some magical aura around it and"-

"Oh Ronald do I have to explain this all?" she interjected. "Remember the fake Horcrux Harry carries? Remember the Locket that we were unable to open in our fifth year? Remember Mundungus stealing all the artifacts?"

Ron nodded.

"He might have the locket," Hermione said excitedly. "He may know a lot of information!"

"I suppose…. Hey do you think we should check out Borgin and Burke's to? I mean, the locket was supposedly in there for a while…?" Ron said hopefully.

"Yes, I think we could look there, it might be a start."

Hermione and Ron both apparated to Diagon alley, and slowly quickly made their way through the crowd of dark, and suspicious people. They walked until they found the shop of which Harry had accidentally flooed to in their second year. It was his first experience with floo powder.

The two of them walked into the shop, hoping Borgin would fail to recognize Hermione from their first encounter. They were not positively sure if Borgin would answer their questions, but they could always be hopeful.

Borgin did not seem bothered by them coming into the shop, but looked hopeful from the start the tiny bell by the door rang. They two of them wore black, long billowy robes, and did their best to look as though they belonged in Knockturn alley. This did involve a potion, that was horribly hard to brew, but could change your appearance.

"How may I help ya sir, mam?"

Ron opened his mouth to speak, but Hermione cut him off, "We are travelers, of around the world, we collect items we believe are valuable. Now, years ago we heard of this shop, but we were much busy with other things. We heard of an item we were interested in, and are still. I'm hoping you may still have it. A locket it was."

"Well mam I've sold lots of jewelry"-

"With a black S on the front," Ron piped up.

"One that you bought from a poor woman, ten gallons perhaps?" Hermione said slyly.

"Why, you her? You want it back or something? Too late it's gone."

"No I'm not her," Hermione snapped. "Who by chance did you sell it too?"

"A woman, very dedicated to old heirlooms and artifacts. Dead now. Went by the name of Hepzibah Smith." Borgin replied, showing no sign of pity. "The locket disappeared. Along with a something else she had. Don't quite recall what it was. Would have loved to get my hands on what she was so desperately trying to hide…"

"So you don't know where the locket is… at all?" Hermione asked, slightly disappointed.

"Why are you so interested anyway?" Borgin asked suspiciously.

"I told you, we collect priceless items. The locket would be classified as such." Hermione said defiantly.

"All right then, but I'm telling you, I have about as much idea of where that locket went as you do."

"Oh, well thank you for your time." Hermione said, all excitement gone from when her 'Mundungus discovery' was made.

"Well are you sure you don't want to look at any of the objects I have here, they are after all, pretty interesting as well." Borgin asked desperately

"No, sorry, good day," Ron said, as he and Hermione shuffled out of the shop crammed with dark items.

"Well that got us no where," Ron said, as they made their way back up to Diagon alley. "Mundungus, tomorrow then?"

"Yes, tomorrow I suppose."

And they both apparated away.

Harry played with the little locket he carried with him, letting the chain slip through his fingers. He had put a very strong disillusionment charm on it, days ago. It was not taken away from him, due to the strong disillusionment charm he put on it. He knew it would wear off soon though. Maybe today, or tomorrow. Who knew? Would he even remember what it was tomorrow? Even he didn't know. Harry slipped the locket around his neck.

A/N: I hope you all weren't expecting a cliffhanger. Or hoping for one either!

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