Chapter Twelve

If you have anything to say, please say it. Good, bad. In the end, it all helps.

As always, these characters do not belong to me.

Harry was dabbing his busted lip with the hem of his singlet when the greasy voice returned. Harry tilted his head to hear what he had to say, wincing at the movement.

'I suppose you think you won the battle of wits, today?'

'Well, it certainly wasn't brawn,' Harry replied weakly.

After he was dragged back to his cell he was beaten again. They had left him with the re-opened lip and several new bruises to his ribs and cheeks but it was the electrocution that affected Harry the worst. He had never experienced the aftereffects of abuse before. His nerves were strained and his body shuddered with constant nervous shakes. A cold sweat trickled down his back and on his temples and his eyes had the uncomfortable habit of twitching or blinking uncontrollably. The Death Eaters had taken the glasses back so Harry was again blinded by the surrounding darkness; which seemed to be more suffocating since being out in the light.

'Your little trick has merely angered them that much more,' the voice drawled. 'You do realise this?'

'I wasn't going to sit there and let them torture me,' Harry snapped.

'And that is what makes you foolish.'

'I'm foolish?' Harry scoffed angrily. 'So if you were in my situation what would you do?'

'I would never let my emotions determine my actions. Therefore I would never be in your situation.'

'I can never win with you, can I?' Harry asked, abandoning his bloody lip. 'First you accuse me of giving up and now you think I shouldn't fight? You know what; I think I hate you.'

'Then the feeling's mutual. Here.'

The man pushed the same beaker through the vent. The beaker was followed by a small test tube. It was stoppered and inside swished a thicker solution. The light through the vent let Harry glimpse the colour and it was a dull blue. Harry glared at the vent, trying not to crush the tube in his hand.

'Last time I drank your little concoction I had fits and delirium. I'm not going through that again.'

'The effects won't be as severe now that you have the remnants of the first potion in your bloodstream,' the man stated as if it was obvious. 'Enjoyable though it is to see you get your punishment, I advise you to take that. You won't survive long with their next plan.'

'I seemed to recall you saying the same about the electrocution and I got through that,' Harry countered, just to be rude.

'Oh yes? So you're feeling fine are you? You didn't react at all to the shocks?' he asked snidely.

Harry clenched his jaw, his muscles twitching in response.

'As I thought,' the man said in a satisfied voice when Harry didn't answer. 'You'll see that the other tonic will get rid of those symptoms; if you aren't too afraid to take it?'

'I suppose baiting me is your own form of entertainment, considering you aren't allowed to kill me?'

Harry grimaced as he unstoppered the test tube. He drank the liquid in one go, gagging at the after taste on his tongue. He grabbed the beaker and drank that quickly too, gasping. He had hoped that it would lose the awful flavour. Harry shuffled over to the water bucket, grateful that it was refilled. He swished the water around and spat out the after taste to no avail. He took another swig before crawling back to the vent.

'To think I wrote you off as completely stupid,' the man remarked. He grabbed the empty bottles from the vent once Harry pushed them through.

Harry waited for the tonic to take effect and in doing so, something else came to mind. In desperation, he pressed forward so he was against the vent. His heart began to pound as dark thoughts grabbed at his fear and doubt. He swallowed the bile in his throat.

'Ginny,' Harry choked out. 'Can you tell me … is she okay?'

'I'm not a messenger, Potter. Regardless of what the two of you think,' he said curtly.

'But you've seen her. That means she's still alive.' Harry moved even closer to the grate, hope clawing through the fear. 'I need to know she's okay.'

'The absence of her condition may make you feel some form of remorse for bringing her into this.'

'No! Wait!'

Harry slammed his fist against the wall, losing his temper. He took a deep breath to calm down. He needed this man's help and their relationship was already frayed. Harry would have to swallow some of his pride if he was to get this man to do him any favours.

'Can you help her, please?' he asked softly.

'Oh, so he has manners,' the man said sarcastically. 'Worry about your own skin, Potter. You are good at that.'

Harry heard his retreating footsteps. 'No!' Harry called out to him.

Harry's fist hit the wall again but that wasn't enough. He threw his entire body against the wall, screaming senselessly. His fingers clawed at the vent until they were ripped and bloody. He threw his body against in last surge of energy before he slumped against the wall beside the vent, breathing haggardly. He didn't even realise that the shaking had stopped.

Hours passed, blending together in a swirl of tedium. Harry paced his cell, Ginny first and foremost on his mind. His ears strained to hear any indication of life outside the walls but only silence met them. He hoped that his answers were sufficient enough that they did not feel the need to place Ginny under the same scrutiny. His hands shook with anger and fear every time he pictured Ginny strapped to the device, her face pale as she got shocked. He rubbed the bristles on his cheeks anxiously. After his outburst at the vent it was harder to resist the urge to shout for her.

Food was slipped through the door, much to Harry's surprise. Harry ate mechanically, a frown puckered on his brow. Again, nothing was said from the Death Eater who delivered the meal. Nor, did the greasy voiced Death Eater seem to bother in returning to relieve Harry's boredom, even just to snipe. As Harry chewed on the stale piece of bread, he wondered whether the Death Eaters were hoping he would fall into madness by ignoring him. Harry was starting to conclude that they may get what they wished for.

Body weary, Harry crawled over to the mattress, collapsing face down upon it. He drifted in and out of consciousness but tormenting thoughts prevented him from sleeping fully. It was in this state of vulnerability that the Death Eaters came for him. Four of them barged in and unlike last time when they waited for him, grabbed him forcefully and pulled him to his feet. Harry yelled in outrage, his old instincts kicking in. He struggled against them which proved fruitless. Harry was surprised when they didn't fight back; instead they methodically continued the task that was given to them. His hands were clasped in the chains in front of him and he was pushed out of the cell into the hallway wall opposite. Harry grunted, slipping down. The Death Eaters hoisted him back to his feet, pushing him down the hallway back to the torture room.

'Alright, I don't need your extra incentive,' Harry growled.

'Walk then, boy,' one of them replied scathingly.

'I preferred my other escorts,' Harry told them, turning a corner. 'Why can't I have them?'

The Death Eaters ignored him, even when Harry continued to ask questions. Harry's questions kept getting more imprudent by the passing hallways, seeing if he could gain any sort of reaction from them; even if it was just to tell him to shut up. After the fifth jibe went ignored, Harry stared nonplussed at his silent escort. Something had changed since his last release. The air was still cold and the lights were still blinding from his dark confinement but Harry could sense a haunting, harder edge to the place. Harry concluded that the Death Eaters were finished playing their games and were now showing their true colours.

Harry gazed around with a keener awareness, dropping his previous laidback manner. His escort ranged from tall to small, skinny to broad. The smallest one was at the front that might have been mistaken for incompetency but Harry wasn't deceived by his stature. One glance at the man's beak shaped nose, sharp, beady eyes and claw-like hands was enough for Harry to know he was just as aggressive as the broadest man and possibly even crueller from it.

The tall, wiry Death Eater behind Harry glanced at him every so often. His shoulders were stiff, Harry observed and his lips were tight with anxiety when Harry could see them. He didn't seem to want to be near Harry any more than Harry wanted to be there. The two comrades on either side of Harry could be twins. They were only a foot taller than the leader but they were almost double his muscle capacity. If they had clubs, Harry could have sworn they were trolls.

They reached the junction to the hallway where Ginny's cell was. Harry paused, looking down the hallway where he had last seen her. His heart ached and his stomach constricted into a knot. The latest mind trickery he inflicted upon himself was enough to draw him away from his calm demeanour. He had to know whether she was alive. He had to see her, needed to. He pictured the way her red hair shone in the light; the way her eye's glittered when she smiled; the freckles that danced across her skin; the way that same skin felt underneath his fingertips and lips; the feel of her lips against his. Harry's feet started towards her, forgetting about the guards. The right sided troll pushed him back to the centre.

'No! I have to … Ginny!' he called down the hallway.

The small leader turned and punched Harry in the face. Harry recoiled, his vision blackening for a few seconds. He was lead down the hallway by the chain that held his hands together. He stumbled on his feet, only keeping upright by his sheer determination not to fall. Harry tried to massage his face but without his arms or hands, he was just walking making silly facial expressions.

'You shouldn't've done that,' the leader wheezed out, his tone full of delight at the prospect of Harry's oncoming punishment.

His voice sounded familiar to Harry. It brought back a memory of a night when Harry was out of sorts, his body feeling crushed and weary …

'You!' Harry gasped, tripping as he was urged forward. 'You were there at that base that night!'

'Indeed I was.' The man grinned, showing a mouth with only a few teeth. 'And now it's time for you to get what you deserved.' He punched Harry in the stomach and as Harry bent over, he came in close and whispered in his ear. 'That was for my friends you killed that night Potter. Once our Lord finishes with you, I'll give that girl your heart in a box.'

'You won't get near enough to even see her face,' Harry snarled.

The man laughed and continued to pull Harry down the maze of hallways like a slave until they reached a door that Harry was familiar with. The weasel man knocked twice on the door and stood back. Yaxley opened the door again, eyes shining with anticipation. His eyes drawled over Harry and Harry tried to look tougher than what he felt.

'What, Potter? No quirks this time?' Yaxley smiled coldly.

'Give me a minute. I'm sure I can think of something,' Harry said conversationally. 'By the way, do you ever change your clothes? You seem to be wearing the same thing as the last time we met. Didn't your mother ever show you that?'

'Funny, I could say the same about you. Then again,' Yaxley added thoughtfully. 'You didn't have a mother, did you? She left you alone.'

Harry had to work to keep his face expressionless but his eyes hardened in hatred. Yaxley's smile widened at his victory and Harry vowed to remove that smile at the next opportunity. Yaxley turned and led them back into the room. Harry stopped just inside the door and was given a pair of glasses again, so that he could see the horror in store for him. He expected to see the table in the middle of the room but a long and thick wooden pole replaced it. As he walked towards it he noticed a small brazier stood a few feet from the pole. He turned his attention back to the pole he was being directed to.

The pole was a few metres tall, rounded, sanded and polished so its surface gleamed under the light. Harry squinted as something else glinted from the light. Two chains hung from a nail on either side near the top of the pole and fell halfway down. Larger circular links were at the base of the chain and they twinkled innocently at him. Harry stopped his walk, realising exactly what it was. His guard continued to pull him forward and Harry struggled against the advance.

He was bleeding from his nose by the time they chained him to the pole. They rattled loudly in the quieted room as he struggled to release his wrists even though he knew it was feeble. Harry growled as they ripped his singlet from his body, exposing his back to the chill. He shivered, his heart starting to frantically beat against his chest. Malfoy strode over, his boots echoing loudly as they slapped against the floor. The pretence of superiority that he usually had was gone and replaced by a hard and snarling man hell bent on revenge. Harry was in real trouble now.

Malfoy stood on the other side of the pole, glaring directly in Harry's eyes. Harry returned the stare, trying to hide how unsettled he was. They stood like that for a few minutes, the room utterly silent. Harry felt the eyes of the hidden Death Eaters upon them but instead of excitement he could feel on his previous visit, it was remorseless and callous. They were here to witness Harry suffer. They wanted to see their enemy suffer.

'This is a little medieval, is it not?' Harry asked flatly, his voice echoing in the silence.

Malfoy smiled sadistically, walking towards the brazier. Harry shifted his head to keep him in his eyesight. His shoulders had begun to ache. He shook his arms to release the tension.

'I'm surprised by the state of your bruises, Potter,' Malfoy stated, his back to Harry while he stared into the brazier. 'Most of them have faded yellow.'

'I wouldn't know,' Harry said indifferently. 'After all, you refuse to tell me what the time is or even what day it is.'

Malfoy chuckled. 'You always have something to say don't you. Well not anymore.'

Malfoy turned then and Harry saw in his hand he held a hunter's knife. The blade was a mixture of a reddish and orange hue and it shimmered as Harry looked at it. His eyes travelled to the brazier and then to the knife and it dawned on him; they had heated the blade. Harry eyed it apprehensively as Malfoy walked slowly toward him.

'This,' Malfoy swung the knife between his thumb and finger, 'was modified to withstand copious amounts of heat while retaining its shape. This has been sitting in that fire since you left this room and let me tell you, it is quite something.'

Harry struggled to keep his fear at bay. In forms of torture this was new to him. He expected to be whipped, maybe even with a cat-o'-nine-tails but being sliced and burnt at the same time was not what Harry had prepared himself for.

'You think you can cut the answers from me?' Harry asked in disbelief. 'I told you everything you wanted to know.'

'Oh, this isn't an interrogation,' Malfoy stood right behind Harry so he couldn't see. 'This is for fun.'

Harry felt the knife against his right shoulder and clenched his teeth as it pierced his skin diagonally down to the end of his shoulder blade. Malfoy's slash only lasted one or two seconds but it was enough. Fire, intense fire and pain erupted from the cut. It was the combination of being burnt and the sting from a cut brought together that doubled the pain to near intolerable measures of will. Harry panted, slight moans escaping from his mouth. He could smell his burning flesh and nearly gagged.

'You're taking the punishment of a thousand cuts to a new level,' Harry managed to gasp out. 'Can't say I'm partial to your modifications.'

Malfoy chuckled. 'Your attempt at indifference is highly commendable but pointless. That's just a taster,' Malfoy added quietly, though his voice carried to the corners of the room. 'Did you know that because it is heated the wound is also cauterized?' Malfoy laughed. 'So there is only a tiny bit of mess.'

Harry could indeed start to feel tiny dribbles sliding down his back from the cut. He pressed his cheek to the pole, hoping it would lend him some of its strength even when he knew it couldn't. It wasn't so much that he would be horribly scarred but more so that nothing he could say would end this. No trickery or quick thinking on his part at all. Malfoy would only stop once he was satisfied or when Harry was incapacitated. Hopelessness threatened to engulf him and it was only the knowledge of that being exactly what the Death Eaters wanted stemmed Harry's stubbornness to not give in.

Sensing his train of thoughts, Malfoy spoke again. 'Maybe for this next mark you could possibly scream? I would hate to think Ginny will be ignorant of what she is about to face.'

Harry turned wide eyed to face him, fear dissipating his stubbornness. Malfoy had the tip of the blade at Harry's left hip and worked the knife slightly upwards and towards Harry's spine. Malfoy cut slower this time and Harry groaned as he struggled to hold down his scream. Charred flesh filled his nostrils and blood seeped down to the waistband of his jeans. Harry's head drooped with his eyes clenched shut to hold his tears at bay. He whimpered, his muscles tensing despite him knowing it would just make the pain worse. His vision was kept flickering in and out like it was an out of focus lens on a camera.

'Not bad, Potter. Not bad,' Malfoy remarked. 'We expected this though. I should probably tell you that if you pass out here, Ginny will have to come in earlier and take the rest of yours, plus her own.'

'Leave her out of this,' Harry said quietly, taking deep breaths.

'Why? She's been almost as much trouble as you have been. Besides, the threat of hurting her is the only one that will keep you in line.'

Harry breathed a small sigh of relief. Malfoy had said only the threat of hurting her worked, meaning that they had not touched her since their arrival here. It was a small light at the end of the tunnel, but Harry was glad that it was there. Harry straightened from his sagged position after the last cut, the chains rattling in response. He twisted to eye Malfoy, wincing as the shoulder cut ached in protest.

'You wouldn't dare scar her,' Harry said with a hard voice. 'Stop threatening me with empty threats. She's a public figure. If you hurt her, they'll ask questions and it will fall back on you.'

'We don't care about secrecy anymore,' Malfoy replied. 'We only needed secrecy to get you and now that we have you, it's over. We have won.'

Harry turned away, his mind spinning restlessly with questions when he noticed Malfoy was serious. The first and foremost question that kept cropping up was what had happened since his capture to spur this sort of mindset from the Death Eaters? He groped for the answer and battled to keep the pain from interrupting. It was a hard thing but Harry concluded it must be something to do with the Order; it always was in the end. Something Hermione had told him from one of their many discussions about exploiting the Death Eaters kept cropping up in his mind. She was trying to explain to him that they were targeting them the wrong way.

'The only way we are going to get them to expose themselves is by going to the government directly,' she told him. 'The Death Eaters aren't silly enough to fall prey to any of our traps. Create doubt in the government's mind, Harry. If they doubt, then they will see what we can and the Death Eater's will be shown for what they really are.'

Harry lifted his head slightly, shifting his hands and adjusting the balance on his feet. He grunted as his cuts flared again. A few of the Death Eaters snickered from the darkness but Harry ignored them. The Order must have convinced members of the government that Harry and Ginny's kidnapping was a result of the Death Eaters.

'You've been exploited,' Harry breathed out in wonder.

'What was that?' Malfoy asked sharply, his voice tinged slightly with fear.

Harry didn't answer. He had to outlast this torment somehow and then Riddle too but more importantly he had to help Ginny. He heard a shift in movement behind him and knew he had only seconds before Malfoy slashed him again. He took in a deep breath and abandoning his fear, shouted at the top of his lungs.

'Ginny! Block your ears!'

He managed to yell out before the cherry coloured blade was against his skin. His yell turned into a wail as pain shot from the bottom of his ribs straight across his spine to the other side of his ribs. He clenched the chains that held him there, stifling his cry by clenching his teeth. The rim of his glasses dug into his skin as he pressed the side of his face on the pole. Harry could feel his latest cut bleed more profusely which meant the heat on the blade was starting to cool.

'That, was foolish,' Malfoy said. His voice was dangerously quiet. 'I should have expected it from you. Always trying to be so, chivalrous.'

Malfoy walked into Harry's line of vision. Harry glared at him, his chest heaving from his body's exertion. Sweat ran down his temples and across his upper lip where the whiskers of an unattended facial hair grew. He didn't let any of his discomfort show. A slight breeze tickled his back and his cuts stung and prickled. His legs felt heavy and weak at the same time and he was so close to collapsing.

'I guess that means you are sick of our conversations in between your punishment? Don't worry, the feelings mutual. Now it's time you really get what you deserve.'

Malfoy walked over to the brazier and placed the blade back into the flames. It sizzled when Harry's blood hit the coals. Harry examined the brazier closer and his heart sank. There were multiple knives waiting to be used. Malfoy pulled out a rather wicked looking one with a curved blade. Harry blanched when he saw it was bigger than the previous torture instrument. Malfoy then stood behind Harry again and despite trying to be strong, Harry began to shake. His heart accelerated as he waited for the next blow.

Harry knew then that he could no longer keep his cries of pain silent. He could feel the heat emanating off of the blade as Malfoy leant in close.

'Shall we see how long you can withstand pain, Potter?' he whispered to him and then spoke in a louder voice. 'You will be scarred as a reminder of the power of our Lord Riddle. Let others see that their precious leader is nothing more than a scarred and broken vessel.'

The blade ran from the top of Harry's left shoulder all the way down to his right hip. Malfoy was slow and precise as if he was carving a sculpture from Harry's skin. Harry screamed and he could distantly hear a few Death Eaters cheer at the noise. Harry had barely begun to regain his breath when Malfoy cut into his flesh again, and again, and again. Each scream received more cat calls and cheers from the surrounding Death Eaters. At some point, his back went numb from his inflicting wounds; whether because it was already torn to shreds from the constant criss-crossing of Malfoy's cuts or Harry's body just couldn't take any more pain.

In that time, Harry wove in and out of consciousness. When he felt as if he would finally slip into the blissful darkness, one of the Death Eaters would throw a bucket of icy water down his neck, drenching his head so he was revived to full attentiveness. The cool water slipped down his back and offered some relief to his cuts but then Malfoy would strike a new piece of flesh and the pain would be back in full force. Harry felt his body falling. His legs had finally giving out and his body slid down the pole. The chains rattled on his wrists but held them aloft, so his arms were stretched to their full extent as his body slumped on the ground.

'Get him up!' Malfoy said sharply.

Rough hands grabbed him, lifted him and threw him roughly against the pole. He hugged it blindly, searching for grip. His legs continued to sag as he struggled but none of the Death Eaters cared. Harry opened his eyes, having trouble focusing on anything in front of him. Malfoy's face swam into view and Harry blinked slowly.

'Does this mean you've had enough?' Malfoy asked in a mocking tone.

Blood dribbled from Harry's mouth where he continually bit his tongue or the sides of his mouth. He spat out what he could but he was too weak to do much except let it run down his chin and onto the floor.

'You're right, I am missing one last cut,' Malfoy said.

He bought his current knife up, hovering it inches from Harry's cheek. Harry recoiled with the last of his strength, feeling the heat from the blade. He had no voice left from his screams but it didn't stop him from groaning every few seconds in pain. The Death Eaters began to clap or stomp their feet in unison, the sound getting louder until the sound thudded through Harry's skull.

'You took this from me, Potter,' Malfoy said over the noise, angling the knife closer. His scar in the dim light stood out. 'And now, I'll take it from you.'

The blade was just about to reach Harry's cheek when a lone voice cried out. 'Stop!'

Malfoy whirled around, pulling the knife with him. Harry let himself breathe a small sigh, slumping even further down the pole. The sound of boots rapping against the stone echoed as the Death Eaters fell silent. The figure stopped a few metres out of Harry's line of sight and he captured the attention of everyone in the room bar Harry. Whoever this man was Harry silently thanked. While he preoccupied their attention Harry had the chance to try and get his mind back from the numbing pain.

'What do you think you are doing?' the voice said and Harry recognised it as the man who had vowed to keep him alive.

Harry slid an inch down the pole in surprise. The chains rattled in response to his movement but for once it was ignored. Harry groaned as he tried to remain upright.

'I'm having a bit of fun, sir,' Malfoy said, his voice growing insolent.

'Foolish boy,' the Death Eater said in the same flat tone. 'If Riddle caught you doing this he would punish you and all that were here witness to it.' The Death Eaters all shifted guiltily and some even left the room hastily.

'I don't take orders from you,' Malfoy said sullenly. 'I can do what I want.'

'No doubt but seeing as you are already on thin ice I would have believed you to think before acting again.'

Malfoy made a derisive noise. 'Stick to your concoctions, Snape and leave me to deal with Potter.'

Snape! Harry thought. Why did he recognise the name and why did it cause bile to rise to his throat.

'I come bearing a message,' Snape continued in a bored tone. 'Riddle himself is only a day or two away.' There was a lot of muttering at this. Harry threw up the bile in his throat but no one noticed. 'And you know he wants to deal with Potter personally. Your little endeavour here will have consequences if not resolved and thought out.'

'And how am I supposed to do that?' Malfoy demanded with a slight tinge of fear. 'Tear all of his back skin off?' Harry shivered at the prospect.

'Of course not,' Snape snapped. 'You idiots are under the impression that can you break Potter physically.'

Another set of footsteps strode past Harry, towards Snape and Malfoy. 'Now come on …' Yaxley started but fell silent soon after.

'We will play this to our advantage,' Snape said after a pause.

They began to talk in quieter voices so Harry had no idea of what this plan was. Snape was supposed to be helping him! Harry would have been furious if he had any strength. As it was, he was barely able to stay conscious. He should have been trying to find out what they planned for him but he was trying to find motivation to keep going. Ginny's face bloomed behind his closed eyelids but even then he found himself asking, 'what is the point in fighting?' He couldn't fight anyone in his current condition and unless there was some miracle that would have him healed in the next twenty-four hours he would face Riddle and be too weak to move.

The more Harry thought about, the more he realised he wasn't dreading facing Riddle. He did throw up when he first heard of how close Riddle was but it more from the aftereffects of the pain than anything else. He came to realise he had been waiting for this to happen for a long time. It was like he had been holding in his breath and was finally able to release it. What will be, will be, he thought faintly to himself. He had not given in an ounce since his entrapment and he should be proud of that.

'Keep him there until Riddle arrives. I have other business to attend to,' Snape's voice carried to Harry. He heard Snape's clipped footsteps retreat, followed by the opening and closing of a far door.

'Can we trust him?' Yaxley asked in a hushed voice.

'We have no choice,' Malfoy said through gritted teeth. 'Besides, if Riddle doesn't like it, it was his plan and not ours.'

A flurry of movement and Harry opened his bleary eyes. Two Death Eaters were on either side of him, undoing the manacles at his wrists, pulling his glasses away from his face. The two burly ones that were his guard grabbed him under his arms once his wrists were free from his restraints. He slumped in their hold and they took him from the room. His shoes dragged along the ground as they made their way back to Harry's cell. Harry was so weak he could not lift his head to see where they were going. He let the rhythm of their footsteps lull him into a stupor.

Harry stayed like that until he heard the banging of a cell door sliding open. He lifted his head a fraction in confusion. His cell door didn't slide open, it swung. Harry wanted to be more alert of this new threat but found he couldn't. He heard the rush of something come from inside the room. There was a screech of someone's voice but it was immediately stifled when Harry was flung against it. He heard the person gasp as they collided together. Harry grunted as his dead weight pulled the two of them to the ground.

Harry groaned at the implication of another form of torture. Maybe he could black out and not deal with this new torturer. The person rolled out from underneath him with a noise of disgust followed by a groan of surprised pain. A light flickered into life but Harry kept his eyes closed. He expected rough hands to grab him and inflict more damage. The hands that ran over his arms were soft and timid. Harry moaned at the gentle soothing of the fingers but it seemed to upset the person even more.

'Oh Harry,' the person breathed, her voice sounding close to tears.

Harry felt a lone tear leak from his own eye. Snape was right. Physical pain could not have broken him. A very faint flowery scent reached his nose as the hands brushed his sweaty hair from his forehead. A choked sob escaped her lips and Harry grunted, his stomach constricting at the sound.

Ginny, Harry thought desperately.

Harry tried to get up. He slowly brought his hands back to beside his head but his back muscles contorted from even the slightest movement. He moaned, his arms falling beside him. He tried to shift his position or even just tilt his head so he could see her but every movement sent ripples of pain down his back and caused him to grunt and moan.

'Harry lie still, please?' Ginny pleaded softly, her voice pained.

Harry did as he was told and his let his breaths escape in small, sharp pants. Ginny was muttering to herself and Harry heard her agitated footsteps as she strode back and forth beside him. Harry heard the slosh of water and then felt it slam onto his back. Harry groaned as the water stung his open wounds but didn't mind the cool droplets that fell upon his left cheek and soaked his hair. Ginny uttered an apology before continuing to urge herself to think of a solution in a panicked voice.

'Hey!' Ginny yelled from the far side of the room, startling Harry. 'I need your help! Please, help me!'

Harry tried to open his left eye to see her but he was too exhausted to even do that. The water helped to numb some of the pain but he was again falling into unconsciousness. In the dimness of his mind, Harry wondered if Ginny was trying to contact Snape. He did say he had talked to Ginny and that she had asked him about Harry but he was the one who sent Harry in here and for whatever reason, Harry was not sure if it was to help or hinder.

Ginny continued to yell, her cries turning desperate with every silent reply. In between her cries, she kept urging Harry to stay awake, to keep fighting and to hold on while she found help. With no way to tell her he would, Harry could only lie there, his teeth clenched together in frustration and pain. A shutter of a grate door opening had Ginny muttering, 'about time!' and Harry heard her rushing to the grate.

'Snape isn't here,' said a young but familiar voice. 'He took off somewhere.'

'Please, you have to help him,' Ginny pleaded.

'I know. That's why I stole these.'

Harry heard rustling and tinkling and something exchanged hands. The boy then spoke again.

'Put that on first; it'll clear the cuts of any infection. The second and thicker cream-like stuff gets lathered over all of them. It'll help to seal them up but in order to do that you need to cover them with the bandages. The bandages and cream have to be washed off and replaced every hour for four hours. That should heal them up enough that he will be able to move without re-opening them. I'll come back with fresh bandages so you know when you need to change them.'

'How do you know all of this?' Ginny said awed.

'I'm good at eavesdropping,' the boy stated. 'Quickly. You don't have a lot of time together.'

Harry heard Ginny come back over and he braced himself. She unstoppered the first of his remedies and Harry could hear the swish of the liquid. As the liquid touched the flesh of his back, it felt like he was being tortured all over again. Fire raced through the cuts and his skin felt like it was bubbling in acid. He screamed in pain, clenching his hands onto something that was in front of him. He tried to remain still but he could not help arching his back as the pain intensified.

'It's hurting him!' Ginny cried out. 'You didn't say it would hurt him!'

'I didn't know!' the boy cried back, clearly afraid.

The pain had become too much. Harry heard Ginny say his name as he finally fell into the darkness, her name hovering on his lips amongst his screams.