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Harry was roughly tossed to the hard stone ground and he fell hard but he was far from experiencing any pain. Another wail escaped his lips and his body trembled uncontrollably as his mind conjured up images of horrific things happening to those children. Harry was grabbed by the scruff of the neck and raised to his feet only to be met by Voldemort's rage filled, smouldering, crimson gaze. The man's lipless mouth was pressed into a straight line. Harry closed his eyes before his gaze could reach the snake wrapped around his neck. Harry winced when he shouted, his voice reverberating through the cavern,
"HOW DID YOU GET IN HERE?"
Harry didn't know, couldn't remember. His mind kept rerunning everything he had had just witnessed. Voldemort shook him hard and dragged him to the edge of the island,
"I have half a mind to drown you if you do not start explaining."
Drowning….drowning was so much better than what he was going through. Those images were never going to leave him. Maybe drowning would help. He wanted that oblivion. He was burning for it because surely the images running through his head would drive him insane or kill him.
He got his wish as he was forced down on his knees at the edge of the lake and Voldemort grabbed his head and pushed it over the rim into the icy, cold water. Harry kept his eyes closed, holding his breath, feeling the lack of oxygen scorching up his lungs and slowly, gradually burning away his thoughts. He was glad…more than glad for the blackness that was slowly darkening his mind. His body wanted to struggle, to squirm but he refused to move. He resisted the panic his body was going through with all his will. He was terrified that the images would return if he moved and he didn't want to see them again.
Voldemort had been enraged to discover that Harry had managed to gain access to his memories. It shouldn't even have been possible for him to get into the cavern. He wasn't going to rest until he found out how Harry had managed it. There had been something eerie about seeing Harry standing in what had once been his hell. He was certain that the boy wasn't aware of what he had seen. He wouldn't be able to make any sense of it unless he explained it to him. He had locked them away here because this cavern was supposed to be the most secure location. No one….no one had ever been able to get past the inferi lurking in the lake and guarding the Pensieve. He had ordered them to stay away as he held the boy underwater, otherwise they would have dragged him down to the bottom of the lake by now.
The haze of rage vanished leaving nothing but intrigue and curiosity behind as he held Harry down with one hand and held him in place with the other. Harry resisted, he didn't fight, didn't even squirm. For a moment, he considered that the boy was dead but no bubbles rose from the water and that was proof that he was alive. If there had been any other human in Harry's place, he would have thrashed and screamed and would probably have lost every bit of breath in an attempt to free himself. But Harry didn't, even though every harsh line of his body spoke of panic held in check with an iron will. How long had it been? A minute? It felt like five. He was tempted to test Harry's limits but he didn't want the boy to die. There were too many questions he needed answered.
Finally, he released Harry but the boy made no attempt to pull up. He noticed Harry's knuckles whiten as he held on to the edge of the island. What was wrong with him? The brat was drowning himself. He plunged his hand into the water, grabbed him by the hair and pulled his head out of the water forcibly. Harry spluttered and drew breaths in huge, noisy gulps. He noticed that his spectacles were gone, they had probably slipped into the water. Voldemort dragged him away from the edge. Harry lay on his back, coughed and continued to catch his breath. Voldemort stared down at him. He should have killed him the day he arrived here. A cry escaped Harry's lips and he saw tears streaming down his temple. The boy was crying. He had never seen him cry before but there was something hauntingly beautiful about it. He shook his head and silently contemplated the reasons behind those tears. Was it because he had nearly died? Or was it something else? The boy had nearly died on countless occasions before in this castle so that couldn't be the reason. Was it possible that he was crying because of what he had witnessed? That wasn't likely. After all, why would he be bothered by any of it?
Why…Why hadn't Voldemort just let him die? He had been so close. Those images were coming back, the naked children, those monsters, that darkness…..A cry escaped his lips and he couldn't stop the tears from flowing. He couldn't do anything for them. He should have done something, anything to stop it. He had never felt so worthless before. Maybe he could go back. Maybe it wasn't too late.
Harry's eyes flew open and he jumped to his feet, only to be grabbed by Voldemort by the throat. Everything was blurry and he was grateful for it. He didn't want to see that snake…not now….not when he was going insane. Voldemort snapped his fingers and Harry unwillingly turned his head to see a blurry shape emerge from the water. Voldemort opened his hand and the thing…the shape…placed something on it. Voldemort leaned closer to him and his face came into clearer focus. Harry kept his gaze locked on those crimson eyes. He didn't want to look down. Voldemort smirked and placed his glasses on the bridge of his nose. Instantly everything came into clearer focus and Harry nearly screamed when he saw what the blurry shape was.
A gaunt, skeletal, rotting corpse stood behind Voldemort, it's white and cloudy eyes staring directly at him. Harry closed his eyes instantly and Voldemort gripped his jaw in a bone shattering hold,
"Open your eyes this instant!"
Harry refused to do so and kept them firmly shut. He wasn't afraid of Voldemort. He was afraid of seeing more things that would act as a catalyst to his oncoming psychosis. Voldemort struck him hard across the face and Harry's head snapped to the side. He bit his lip to hold the sound that threatened to escape, drawing blood. The corpse instantly lurched at him and Harry found himself back on the stone ground, with the corpse clawing at him. Harry screamed and kicked at it blindly as it attempted to scratch his face off with its blunt nails and snapped at him. The struggle only lasted a moment because Voldemort snapped his fingers and the corpse jumped away from him, as if burned.
Harry closed his eyes and panted. Before he could recover, Voldemort had grabbed him by his wet hair and had him back on his feet, his back pressed flushed against his chest, his head pulled back and forced to stare at the roof of the cavern. Harry wanted to pull away or grab onto Voldemort's arm to ease the strain, but he resisted the urge,
"There are many things that you and I are going to discuss and it shall be far less painful for you if you cooperate."
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