For some reason this was deleted so just reposting it.

WARNING: Implied non-con ahead. It was only used to further the plot. I promise it's brief and not graphic but if you are uncomfortable with it please proceed carefully or skip.

Everything around him felt too realistic; the air cool against his exposed skin, the smell: a mixture of mildew and dried blood, it was all too real. Beneath his knees he could feel the sharp prod of rocks imbedding into his skin despite knowing he was actually sitting comfortably in a chair. All he had to do was wake up.

"Concentrate, Potter."

Snape's grating voice came from somewhere to his left but he couldn't bring himself to look. They had been at this for nearly an hour and in that time Harry had faced a torrent of unpleasant memories. He had been made to relive some of his worst moments; times when he had pleaded for mercy and times when he had refused to break.

So far this session he had been successful in pushing Snape out of his thoughts after only a minute or two; he had improved leaps and bounds compared to when they had started a few weeks ago. However, he was now exhausted and his head was aching. He was finding it nearly impossible to concentrate and Snape's constant reminder of it set his teeth on edge.

Cold sweat beaded upon his forehead and he shifted against the ropes binding his wrists and ankles to a tie ring bolted to the floor behind him. He was naked from the waist up, his shirt lay torn to shreds somewhere in the dark shadows to his right, but that didn't matter now. Lucius Malfoy would enter through the cellar door before him at any moment and everything else would become insignificant. This was a memory he had locked away deep within the recesses of his mind, the place he had reserved only for his worst experiences, and yet, somehow Snape had found it.

"Relax and force the memory to change," Snape said, louder this time but Harry was already spiraling.

The soft click of the lock disengaging drew his eyes to the door now opening. Lucius stepped through and then slammed the wooden door with such jarring force that it seemed to shake the very frame. He could see the man clenching and unclenching his fists as if trying to fight back the rage boiling within. In the end the rage won. Harry would never forget the anger that would quickly dissolve into cold sadism.

The first strike came unannounced and had caught Harry on the side of his face. It was an open hand slap the left his ear ringing and a warm flush across his cheek. Another quickly followed and then another and then another. Lucius was panting by the time he had finished his assault, blonde hair disheveled and a gleam of sweat shimmering on his brow.

Looking back on it now, Harry knew that it would have ended there. Had he not been so defiant, so stubborn, it would have ended there. Lucius's anger had fizzled out and he was already straightening his cloak, ready to leave. The man gave one last sigh, as if a heavy weight had been lifted from his shoulders, and turned towards the door. It would have ended there.

"Found out you're no longer the Dark Lord's favorite," Harry asked as he spit the blood from his mouth. He had heard talk, whispers in the corridors, of how Lucius had been passed over for some important job.

Lucius came to an abrupt halt, his body stiffening as his head cocked to one side. Harry could have stopped there but his own anger had blinded him to the warning signs.

"I would have thought," Lucius seethed, turning on his heel to face Harry again. "You had learned your purpose by now, Potter."

Harry shifted again. His shoulders were aching from the restraints and his knees were screaming for relief but he forced a toothy carmine grin.

"I guess after everything you've failed to do-"

A searing pain erupted through Harry's body, burning through his veins like lava. He trashed against the ropes holding him in place but he only managed to flop to his side where he stretched his tendons to near breaking points.

"How does that feel," Lucius yelled. Releasing the curse, he moved forward and pulled Harry back to his knees. He kneeled down and gripped him by the cheeks, thumb and forefinger pressing deep into the hollow spaces. "How does it feel knowing that this is your life now? A plaything trapped in my cellar to be used how I see fit."

"S-sounds like... like how the

...the Dark Lord t-treats you," Harry was able to stammer out between gasps of air.

Instead of rage, Lucius lips peeled back revealing his straight white teeth in a cold hard smile. He released Harry's face with a rough shove and stood up. There was a gleam in his eye that Harry couldn't place but it had sent a wave of unease down his spine.

"You are letting it go to far," Snape warned. "Fear will only make it harder to fight."

Harry knew that but it was too late now. He knew what came next and it was enough to cripple his defense. He had been able to fight past the pain and torture but they held no comparison to the shame and humiliation that he knew was about to come.

Without a word, Lucius worked the silver buttons free on his traveling cloak and shrugged it from his shoulders. Folding it neatly over his arm, he moved to the chair at the far corner of the cellar and layed it over the back. His green waistcoat remaind but he slowly began to roll up the sleeves of his white button down shirt underneath. It was a scare tactic that Harry had seen many times before but something was off in the man's demeanor.

"I see that tongue of yours has yet to be dulled," Lucius said softly.

Harry never saw the wand raise but the Cruciatus curse overtook him again and he folded in on himself in search of relief. At first, he held his breath but a low wine soon escaped through flared nostrils. By the time it was over, Harry was crying in rambles of pleas.

"There we go," Lucius cooed in a thick voice. "But I think we can do better. "

"Potter," Snape called, trying to draw Harry back on path but it went unnoticed over the fear now clouding his brain.

"Look at me,boy," Lucius said, his footsteps echoing in the empty space as he paced forward.

Chest heaving with exhaustion, Harry forced himself to sit up again. He rubbed the side of his face with his clamy shoulder in a feeble attempt to hide the tears spilling down his face. He didn't know why it mattered. Lucius had seen him like this before. Licking his swollen cracked lips, he craned his neck back just enough to stare up at the man now hovering over him.

He would never forget the face that awaited him. The look could only be described as lustful hunger and it turned the blood in Harry's veins to ice. A quick flick of the wand shortened the rope attaching Harry's wrists to the floor and he waa forced to arch his back in order to keep his shoulders in socket.

A strong hand fisted into the back of his hair, pulling his neck back to its limits. A small gasps slipped between his lips before he gritted his teeth. Lucius smile only grew as he stepped closer.

"Let us see if we can find another use for that tongue."

"STOP!"

The scene melted before him and Harry found himself doubled over inside the stifling tent. He was drenched in sweat and panting as if he had just ran a mile. Rubbing his eyes beneath his glasses, he tried to steady his racing heart, reminding himself that it was only a memory now.

"I told you-" Snape began but Harry quickly cut across him.

"You knew that I wouldn't be able to stop that one," he snapped bitterly. His hands had begun to shake with fury and he quickly clasped them together in his lap. "You deliberately picked the worst mememory and then made me watch."

"Do you think the Dark Lord will show you mercy," Snape asked. "He will search out the best tools in order to break you. I am only trying to help-"

"Bollocks! You enjoy watching me struggle with it. You always have," Harry spat. Standing from his seat he made for the exit but Snape grabbed him roughly by the bicep. Harry, however, jerked it away and shoved his way out into the bright sunlight.

By the time he reached the edge of the steep crag they were camped on, Harry's anger had subsided into irritation. The adrenaline that had been pumping though him was now gone and it had left him feeling drained and weak. He sat down, swinging his legs over the precipice's edge and watched the white capped waves roll across the sea.

Part of him knew that what Snape had said was true. The last two Occlumency lessons had been far too easy. He should have realized that there would be a progression at some point but a little warning would have been nice. A small voice in the back of his mind reminded him that Voldemort would offer no warning and that Snape was only preparing him for such cruelty. He pushed that thought away, too prideful to admit it.

Picking up a nearby stone, he flicked it out across the edge and watched as it plummeted into that crashing waves that were battering the rocky shoreline below. A storm was brewing on the western horizon and it's warm breeze blew in the salty smell of the ocean.

Something solid bumped twice against Harry's head and he turned a disgruntled look upwards. Snape was standing there, a small glass of purplish liquid extended out as an offering. Harry eyed it for a minute; part of him still wanted to be angry with Snape but he knew it would do him little good. In the end he took the glass with a roll of his eyes.

"What is it," he asked begrudgingly. He gave it a small sniff and then crinkled his nose.

"It will help with the fatigue," Snape responded just as stiffly. "By now I am sure even you have noticed how Occlumency can drain the body."

Harry didn't miss the snide jab but drained the contents of the glass regardless. The potion went down smoothly but the after taste was atrocious. He sputtered, tongue coming out as if the fresh air might cleanse it. Thankfully, Snape was ready with another glass filled with clear water. Harry took it, ignoring the amused smirk on the former Headmaster's face, and nearly finished it in one long gulp.

"You should feel better in a few minutes."

He gave a disinterested nod and then turned his attention back to the cloudy sky. The subtle kindness in Snape's actions did not go unnoticed but Harry was nearly sure there was an underlying motive. They had spent the majority of their recent days arguing over there next move and Harry had a sneaking suspicion that this was an attempt to coax him into agreeing.

"We need to decide where we go from here," Snape said after a long moment of silence.

Harry let out an exasperated sigh. It really had been too obvious.

"We have to have a plan," Snape pressed on as if nothing had happened. "Regrouping with the remaining Order members is the best option we have right now."

"I'm not going to put anyone else in danger," Harry argued. "I would be putting a huge target on them just by going to the Burrow. Hell, just thinking about it is probably bad enough."

"When was the last time you had any sort of dream or lapse into the Dark Lord's mind," Snape pointed out vehemently.

Harry had to admit it had been a while. It had been over three weeks since the last time he had heard that voice in the back of his mind. That didn't matter though. If something were to happen and the Dark Lord were to find him there... He didn't want to think about the repercussions.

"Your Occlumency has improved greatly," Snape continued as if sensing Harry's doubt.

"How can you say-"

"You struggled with a memory that had an immeasurable amount of trauma," Snape interjected. "That is to be expected. It does not mean that the Dark Lord will be able to break through those new defenses we've built, especially from a great distance."

Harry considered this for a moment, his fingers tracing the condensation that had built up on the outside of his glass. He wouldn't be able to live with himself if he went to the Burrow and something were to happen. They had lost so much already because of him. However, Snape was right, they couldn't just keep running.

"Let's say," Harry began slowly, hating himself for even entertaining the idea. "I agreed to go. There's no guarantee they would even want to see me and there's no way in hell they would trust you."

"I think you underestimate them. At this moment no one outside of the Death Eaters know you are alive. The Weasleys would be overjoyed to find out that you are safe."

Harry doubted that very seriously; however, he would not waste his breath arguing that point again. It had gotten him no where before.. Instead, he went back to the obvious flaw in Snape's plan.

"But what about you," he asked, raising his eyebrows skeptically. "You think they will trust you?"

"Do you?"

The question was stated so simply that Harry couldn't refrain from looking up at Snape; the professor met his eye expectantly. As much as it pained him to say it, he truly believed Snape was on his side. If it weren't for him, he would still be a slave at Malfoy manor; a plaything as Lucius had so perfectly put it.

"It doesn't matter," Harry said firmly, looking away from those piercing black eyes.

"But it is worth trying," Snape implored. "The worse that could happen is they turn us away."

Harry opened his mouth to argue but quickly closed it as his words failed him. He couldn't belive he was actually considering it. After nearly a month of standing his ground, he truly could not see a better option.

Taking a long drink of water, he gave himself one last opportunity to change his mind. When no other option came, he conceded.

"Fine," he said sourly. "But we're just there long enough too get some sort of plan going. The quicker we leave the better.'

"Tomorrow morning then," said Snape. He turned and left before Harry could consider a change of heart .

A cold weight settled in the pit of Harry's stomach as he watched the distant lightning flicker in the oncoming clouds. A low roll of thunder could be heard despite the sun still bearing down upon him from above. Perhaps it was a sign, some looming omen trying to warn him but there was little to be done now. He had made his decision. Time would only tell if it was the right one.