A short chapter I'll admit…

Chapter Two – The Lair

Harry gingerly opened his eyes; pretty sure that he wouldn't like what he saw when he opened them. He was quite right.

"Welcome," said a horribly familiar deep voice. "Welcome to your new home." The voice was emanating from a Death Eater who was stooped over him. His mask seemed to be leering at Harry, who remained stock still. The Death Eater gestured at the chair behind Harry. "Sit."

Harry carefully rose and sat on the proffered stool and, remembering his Auror training, took in all that was around him. He was obviously deep underground; the rocky walls and lack of sunlight made this easily apparent. The small chamber he was in now was roughly the size of an average living room or large bedroom, with only one entrance. This was guarded by two further Death Eaters, both of whom had wands gripped firmly in their hands. The flickering torchlight illuminated a shadowy fourth figure who was leaning against the wall. The Death Eater who had spoken to Harry sat himself on a stool opposite Harry.

The Death Eater eyed him warily. "Are you hurt?" It was the last thing that Harry had expected. Carefully, Harry shook his head. His captor nodded solemnly. "Pity. Number Two?" He tilted his head towards the skulking figure, who straightened.

"Crucio!" The word was spat out so unexpectedly and with such venom that Harry could not help crying out in agony. It had been over a year since he had last felt the immense stabbing knives of the Cruciatus curse and the surprise of it almost caused him to pass out. He tried to throw off the curse but found that he couldn't. A moment later the pain was replaced by an aching numbness as the curse was lifted. Panting slightly, Harry forced himself back on to the chair.

"As you have just discovered," said the Death Eater in front of him, "you cannot perform magic within this lair. My Death Eaters can. Test the theory if you want to but you will be punished if you do. You should also note that apparition is impossible within a mile of this place, even for my loyal Death Eaters. Escape is impossible and attempts will be punished with various means of torture. Is that clear?"

Harry looked at his captor. "What do you want from me?" The Death Eater laughed.

"You will know in time. For the moment, to cause you great pain would be high on my wish list." He paused for a moment. "And you shall feel great pain… Great indeed."

"And so, the rules. You will stay in your cell. Any attempts at escape or at magic of any kind will result in various forms of torture and pain. Do as asked and your wife need not be harmed. Clear?"

Harry recoiled in horror. "If you harm Ginny then I swear I will kill you," he hissed.

"Crucio!" Once again Harry felt the stabbing knives of pain but they were swiftly withdrawn.

"We'll make the rules here," said his captor matter-of-factly. "Although your sentiment will be noted."

And with that, he got up and strode from view, skulking partner in tow.

*

Those hours in the dark were some of the longest and loneliest of Harry's life. Although it felt like whole weeks were going past it was in matter of fact only a few days. The first thing he did after the two interrogators had left was to test the magic boundary he was supposedly in. He decided that apparition would be best and it was also the one he was most used to doing without his wand. Focussing carefully on Hogsmeade village he attempted to apparate. Almost instantly, three things happened: A light came on by the door; an alarm bell went off; and Harry was hit by the Cruciatus curse. Harry decided fairly quickly that this was not a rule to be messed around with.

He also learnt fast that escape was, without magic, impossible. If he so much as took a step towards the chamber entrance wands were raised. The guards changed regularly and any attempt to engage them in conversation met with the same, painful response.

His waking hours were punctuated by visits from his two interrogators, or Number One and Number Two as they were known to Harry. Occasionally they brought food, sometimes taunts, and sometimes their wands seemingly to experiment on him, but Harry did not know what their aim was. Often it caused him pain and Harry sometimes wondered whether it was just another means of torture for him, but several times they took blood from him and on other occasions he was forced to drink potions, none of which seemed to do anything but most of which tasted fairly foul.

The lair was obviously very busy. At any given time of day or night, (or entirely night to Harry), the corridor outside his cell was a veritable hive of activity. The sound of purposeful movement and urgent but muffled conversation was always audible, and several times Harry distinctly heard screams. Wondering if it was another prisoner or just a Death Eater who had failed at something, Harry was forced to just sit and ponder.

Why was he here? Why were these Death Eaters experimenting on him? Harry knew that many of Voldemort's followers had been almost as terrible as Voldemort himself, but still the Death Eaters had all but caved on Voldemort's death. True, Harry thought, there had been pockets of resistance but these had been small and short lived. So why were there still so many, and what were they using him for? And who were Number One and Number Two?

This final question was answered unexpectedly by Number One on the third day of his captivity. Harry only knew the day by the number of meals he'd had, and he was beginning to wonder if he would ever get out of his cell. Then, just as he finished his dinner, Number One and Number Two entered the room, dragging a third figure who had a bag over his head.

"I've brought you a visitor," said Number One, who sounded very pleased with himself. And, with a flourish, he plucked the sack off the captive's head.

It was Neville Longbottom. "I'm sorry Harry," he said softly; his once weak voice now calmer, a change Harry had noticed upon his return from the next realm. Neville had lost his fear.

"I'm sorry," he repeated, "they caught me off guard."

"You and me both," said Harry with a small, sad smile, which faded fast from his face. Harry looked up at Number One and stated one word very simply: "Why?"

"Why you?" he replied slowly, looking at Harry through the narrow slits in his mask. "No, now is not quite the time for that. Why him? Because he tried to protect your wife." Noting Harry's horrified look with obvious pleasure, Number One continued. "You need not fear, she's still at home. We just need to make sure we are able to reach her without any trouble if needs be."

Harry was completely appalled. "What do you need me for? Your master is dead! I killed him – twice!" Number One merely laughed, whilst Number Two shifted his position slightly. Harry tried another tack. "Who are you?"

"That's a lot easier," Number One said quietly. He glanced at Number Two who gave an almost imperceptible nod. "This is my cousin, Andromidus. And my name is Regalus. I believe that you knew my brother Sirius?"