Ch 21: Arrival

Unknown, Present Day (Day 7)

"MARK!"

Harry was woken up by Hugh's alarmed voice coming from somewhere near him. On opening his eyes; he found himself lying face-up in a dark room. The ground beneath him was cold and hard; stone probably, and the air carried an ominous chill. The impression was that of being in a dungeon. But, the place smelled nothing like one. Rather, it smelled of bleach and sickly sweet medicine, like a hospital.

Harry realized his wand was nowhere to be found. He fumbled around the floor with his hands but it wasn't there.

Meanwhile, Hugh cried out again;

"MARK! GET UP!"

Hugh's voice was shaky; as if he was holding back a sob. Harry had never heard him sound that grieved.

"Ugh, quit it already." another voice croaked at Hugh.

Even as his eyes adjusted to the dark; Harry recognized the voice. It was Nathan Claymore.

Now that he could vaguely see again; a solid dark stone ceiling came into view. Not wanting to let anyone know he was conscious just yet; he quietly shifted so that he could see the rest of the room. He seemed to be in something akin to a jail cell. He was surrounded by iron bars on three sides, excluding the wall behind him. No entrance or exit from the cell was visible. Nathan was sitting in an old lounge chair a few feet away from the cell. But, there was something different about him. The foxy grin and relaxed composure Harry was used to seeing had been replaced by a grim look and jittery body language. Nathan didn't look like he had noticed Harry. His gaze was firmly fixed towards another cell Harry's right.

On following his gaze; Harry could make out the massive figure of Hugh kneeling on the floor in the cell. He was breathing heavily, his shoulders shaking. He seemed to be cradling someone in his lap; Harry couldn't make out the person's face. Only their pale feet were visible hanging out from Hugh's lap. They were caked with dirt, mud and what looked like dried blood. Their toenails were long, crooked and sullied too. Attached to their ankles were metal cuffs.

Harry couldn't believe he hadn't noticed it before. The cuffs extended into long chain links hooked to a portion of the wall opposite to Hugh. Not for the first time in the last week, Harry had woken up in a strange place with no idea how he got there. He just hoped he hadn't lost another two days like last time. The last thing he remembered was Nathan appearing in his house out of nowhere. There was something else too, but it was fuzzy, as if shrouded in mist. Nevertheless, he had a rough idea of what must have happened. In the exhausted state both Hugh and he had been in, it was highly probable that Nathan had subdued them and brought them here. Whatever this place was, he and Hugh had to get out of here, and fast.

While Harry was thinking of ways to escape, he thought he saw something move in the shadows. It didn't seem like there could be someone else there but Harry shut his eyes and lay still. No one else seemed to have registered anything. For a moment there was no sound save for Hugh sniffling in his cell and Nathan tapping his foot on the floor. Harry was almost convinced it had been just his imagination when he felt a sharp sting in his head. Harry wanted to clutch his forehead but his hands stayed pinned at his side. A chill made its way down his spine, turning his entire body numb in a matter of seconds. The chill arose in his head now, like his brain was being frozen. His surroundings became distant, as if he were separated from it by a thick veil. His eyes shut themselves of their own will. All that remained was a dull hiss through the chill; slowly growing closer, louder.

As it closed in, Harry realized it was a whisper, a familiar one. He knew what it was before he heard it;

"Potterrrr….."

The mist surrounding him materialized; turning into a cupboard under the stairs. The door was ajar, revealing darkness outside. The hiss was almost upon him, clouding his thoughts. Harry felt himself getting smaller. All his strength and courage drained out of him, replaced with terror. He found himself cowering in front of the dark figure now at the door. Suddenly Harry was a child again, and The Dark Lord was coming for him.

A face whiter than a skull emerged from the darkness, scarlet eyes with slits for pupils glowered at him and unnaturally long fingers reached out to grasp Harry. Despair seized him; rendering him unable to move, unable to think. All he could do was stay rooted to his spot, powerless. Just when the fingers were about to grab him, the hiss stopped. His surroundings faded back into obscurity. For a second, nothing happened.

Then he heard the sound of shoes dropping on a stone floor and Nathan gasping in surprise;

"Potter? You're awake?"

"Very observant of you, boy."

A new voice now spoke from somewhere behind Nathan. Harry was still unable to move but his eyes opened up by themselves. He saw Nathan jump in alarm and turn around with his back towards Harry.

"M-master, you're here. I didn't see you come i—"

"Enough!" The man didn't raise his voice but his tone carried absolute authority. Nathan stopped speaking immediately.

"I'll deal with you later. For now, I have an appointment with Harry here."

Harry felt another twinge on his forehead when the man spoke his name. He could see a vague silhouette standing in front of Nathan. Hugh had gotten quiet now too. But Harry couldn't see what he was doing. The figure produced a wand and flicked it.

With a loud crack, a dozen lights flashed on, making dark spots dance in front of Harry's eyes.

"The great Harry Potter. I've been waiting a long time to meet you."