"What are you doing here?"

Harry froze at the edge of the corridor with a groan of annoyance. Ginny was waiting for him, again. She was making it impossible for him to leave the library almost daily, and at this point he was glad she'd be gone in two days for the Holiday, giving him a much-needed break from her insanity. Madame Pince had already agreed that he could spend his holiday in the library, as long as he promised to help clean up. Apparently, she didn't like the House Elves, or Filch, cleaning in there, afraid they'd do something to her books.

Harry considered his options. He could go back to the library, but he honestly didn't want to. He was supposed to meet Ron and Hermione in just a few minutes, and he was damned tired of being scared off by his stalker. He peeked around the corner to see Ginny glowering at one of the shadowy alcoves down the corridor.

"I await Mister Potter." A familiar voice answered from the alcove.

Harry grinned as Ginny scoffed. Snape had been right. Since the experiment, Harry had begun to heal, and to trust the people around him. Especially the Potions Master, who'd earned his trust tenfold. And the man just kept on earning that trust, every day, by finding some few minutes for them to spend together, whether in his rooms or in the corridors between classes.

"Ugh, that's disgusting. I don't know why you bother. It won't be long before he stops trying to make me jealous and dumps you, y'know. He's just pitying you, because you've got no other friends. Someday soon he'll realize we're perfect and stop play acting just to make you feel better."

Harry watched with amusement as Ginny suddenly began to cower slightly, backing away towards the opposite wall as Snape stepped from the shadows and towered over her. She'd apparently forgotten in her insanity just how scary Snape could be. The Potions Master glanced up and down the corridor, and saw no one, not even Harry. Harry continued to watch with interest as Ginny straightened against the wall with false bravado.

"You can't touch me," She squeaked. "Y-you're still a teacher."

Snape smirked. "There are a great many spells the ministry does not know and cannot detect, including several of my own invention."

Ginny swallowed visibly. "I-I know your spells. Harry taught them to me, and I know how to defend against them."

Snape stepped closer to the Sixth Year. "Miss Weasley, do you truly believe I did not continue inventing beyond my Sixth Year?" He asked querulously. "I can assure you, you have not seen the least of what I've created. There have been a great many spells, and a great many potions. Many of them have been banned by the Ministry."

Harry gaped. It hadn't ever occurred to him that Snape would have continued inventing. It made sense, and he felt like an idiot for not realizing that sooner, but he was also incredibly impressed. The invention of spells and potions required a level of imagination that was very rare to find. He was suddenly honored to call Severus Snape his friend.

"You wouldn't dare," Ginny challenged in a shaky voice.

Snape snarled darkly. "Do not test me, Miss Weasley, and do not make yourself my enemy, or you will regret it. Mister Potter is not your prize, he is not your trophy, and he is not yours at all. You will leave him alone, or I will spend the next term and a half torturing you in unseen ways. Do I make myself clear?"

Ginny nodded shakily before bursting into tears and taking off down the corridor. Harry sighed with relief and made to turn the corner to thank the Potions Master. However, he did not get that chance. Before he had made it fully into the adjoining corridor, several hands descended on him. He tried to cry out but was cut off as a hand wrapped around his mouth. He'd been such an idiot. Snape had taught him a spell just the day before, to warn him about people sneaking up behind, but being so close to his refuge in the library he'd believed himself safe for just a few minutes. He bit down on the hand over his mouth and felt blood gush past his lips.

"Sna-!"

Something hard struck him over the back of the head, and he lost consciousness.

-Break-

"Mister Potter?" A soft female voice called distantly. "Mister Potter?"

Harry groaned. He tried to move, but something was keeping his hands pinned. His body twitched, and something jingled. He blinked open bleary green eyes to find himself in a torch-lit room he didn't recognize. The musty air tickled his sinuses and he raised his head weakly to try and find the source of the person calling his name. As he slowly came to, he realized that he was hanging from a wall, his hands cuffed on either side in thick iron shackles. He struggled against his bindings and again a chain jingled. He looked down and realized his foot was also cuffed, to a long chain that ended somewhere beyond the light. He looked again for the source of the voice and saw a small rectangle of light with iron bars across it. Beyond was a face. A very familiar face.

"Oh, you have got to be kidding me," He mumbled. His head was pounding, and his glasses were cracked, and the woman at the door was grinning. "There's no rest for the wicked, is there, Madame Pince?"

The library matron cackled charmingly. "Not at all, dear boy. However, I suggest you get what little rest you can. Soon now, my master and yours will begin trying to… extract that lovely darkness in your soul."

"A, I don't have a master, least of all the creep you serve, and B, you can't just move a Horcrux. It's bound to me. No magic on this earth can change that, believe me, I've looked," Harry told her tiredly.

She giggled delightedly. "Oh! You think we wish to remove it? That's so quaint!" She cackled again. "No, dear child! My master has decided that there is much greater use for you! You see, for the Horcrux to bond to you, there had to be something cold and unfeeling in your heart for it to bond to. You are going to be the Dark Lord's greatest weapon! Just as soon as we break you."

Harry sighed. His head really hurt. "Fantastic," He muttered.

"What was that?" Pince called in a sing-song voice.

"I said 'give it your best shot'!" Harry shouted, jerking against his bindings. He was rewarded with a minute flinch from the hardened Death Eater. "Eleven years of withstanding my brute of an uncle and creep of a cousin, I can't wait to see how you're going to top that. In fact, I recommend you start with Muggle means, because my magic will protect me from most of your weak little spells without even trying."

Pince gaped in genuine shock.

"You think I didn't notice?" Harry demanded. "It doesn't take a genius to see that you're practically a Squib. So, if you are planning to torture me magically, you should probably bring along a friend or two, because I'd be surprised if your spells did anything more than tickle."

The woman stormed away from the door and Harry chuckled weakly when he heard what sounded like a very heavy door somewhere down a corridor slam shut. He rolled his head and shoulders and jerked experimentally at the bindings on his wrists. He was bolted quite efficiently to the wall. There wasn't any give at all, and the tips of his fingers were already going numb. Fantastic. He dragged his legs up into a crunch, putting all his weight on the wrist shackles, and succeeded only in breaking the skin beneath them. He relaxed again and measured out the slack in his body as blood began to trickle down his forearms. He could bend his knees a little, and could almost sit if he extended his arms, but that was it.

He turned his attention next to the chain bound to his foot. He kicked out and the chain shifted and slithered. There was a lot of slack in it, but he was pretty sure it connected to something. He jerked his foot, wrapping the chain around it, and drew the chain towards him. When his foot touched the wall, he did it again. In this way, he drew the chain up his calf, to his thigh, until finally it would pull no more. He wrapped his other leg around the taut chain and yanked with his whole body, causing more blood to trickle down his arms from his torn wrists. Something in the dark side of the room creaked. He did it again, and this time whatever it was gave a sharp crack. Another hard jerk, and the chain suddenly fell loose as something on the other side of the large room collapsed entirely with a loud crash. He flinched at the sound but continued pulling the chain with his feet and legs. It was dragging something heavy with it now. Harry continued to draw the chain toward him until the end finally came into the light. It was attached with a hook to what looked to be the side of a cage. Harry paled as something in the dark, something inhuman, giggled. Fantastic.

The darkness slithered across the floor as a Brollachan rose on its hind legs and opened its shadowy maw in a grimacing grin. Its' bloody teeth were long and sharp, and seemed to grow before Harry's eyes. He scowled at the creature and jerked the chain off his leg until it was loose enough to use. The Brollachan gave another child's giggle and drifted from side to side like a snake about to strike. Harry narrowed his eyes at it.

"Bring it."

The shadowy thing screeched child's laughter as it launched towards him.