The potions cabinet towered up to the ceiling. It was filled with dozens of bottles, each labelled and shining with their own distinctive colour. Draco glanced back towards the hallway as he took a single shaky breath and flicked his wand. A small vial full of a creamy looking liquid dislodged itself from the shelf and floated down into his sweaty palm.

Draco pushed the vial into his pocket as he steeled himself before he stepped tentatively out into the dimly lit corridor.

Along the hall Draco's ancestors glared down from their grand paintings, almost as if they knew what he was doing and disapproved. Draco focused on the floor, his ears strained for the slightest of sounds. But there were no footsteps and the manor remained eerily silent.

Draco was outright defying the Dark Lord. He should be celebrating Potters capture, along with the rest of the manor, however Draco just couldn't help but shake the thought of those vacant bloodshot eyes.

Death was bliss compared to Potter's torment. Draco had almost considered taking his fathers stock of deadly poisons. It would be quick and Potter would probably thank him for it.

There was a small crack in the wall opposite which marked the spot. Draco muttered under his breath and he held up his dark mark. The door melted away instantly, revealing Potter's prison.

Draco stepped instead and tried to look anywhere but at Potter.

"What's that?" Potter asked sharply as he eyed the vial suspiciously.

Draco swallowed, all retorts dying on his lips. Potter wasn't usually this coherent.

"It's a dreamless sleep potion."

Potter's gaze, if anything, intensified as he stared with a haunted longing.

"Why would you give me that?"

Draco didn't answer. Instead he crossed the room and pressed it hard into Potter's grip.

"Just drink it."

There was no denying the tremble in Potter's hand, nor the genuine confusion as his brows creased.

"Voldemort wouldn't want me to," Potter said quietly.

"Just shut up and drink it," Draco said. "My job is to keep you alive, which is hard enough when you're trying to jeopardise it."

Potter rolled the vial gently between his fingers.

"I don't need a dreamless sleep potion to stay alive," Potter said. "So why are you giving me this?"

Draco broke eye contact first.

"You're barely alive," Draco muttered.

He waited, his heart pounding in his chest as Potter slowly moved the vial to his mouth and downed the whole thing in one.

Potter was asleep before Draco had stepped out the room.

Harry woke with a scream as he clutched his burning forehead. Tears welled in his eyes as he pressed his fist hard against his scar.

Voldemort's murderous thoughts consumed his own as all respite Harry had had from the few hours dreamless sleep were shattered in an instant. Harry swung his legs over the side of his bed, he was about to force himself to stagger towards the bathroom when the dreaded door to his prison melted away.

Lucius Malfoy strode into the room.

"Get up, the Dark Lord requires your presence."

Harry stood, barely resisting the urge to collapse back onto the bed. He would have refused, but he neither had the strength nor the mental capacity to deal with Lucius Malfoy right now. It didn't help that he hadn't left the room for days and the room gave no distinction between night and day.

Voldemort was waiting in the Malfoy's drawing room. He was sitting at the far of end of the large table that spanned the room.

Harry gave into his pain as he pressed his hand back to his burning forehead.

"What do you want?" Harry said as his vision swayed rapidly in and out of focus.

Voldemort didn't reply at first, his cold calculating stare pierced through Harry.

"Just kill me already," Harry hissed.

But unnervingly just like before, Voldemort stayed his wand.

Harry opened his mouth to protest, to give Voldemort the fury to finish what needed to be done, but something small and gold caught Harry's eye. At first he thought he had seen incorrectly.

The golden snitch flicked its tired wings as it hovered above Voldemort's chair.

"From Dumbledore's last will and testament," Voldemort said softly, his fierce red eyes never leaving Harry's. "It was left for you. The first snitch you ever caught."

Harry's mouth dried as any response died in his throat.

"Snitches have flesh memories, meaning that it will only open for you," Voldemort continued. "Dumbledore left something inside of it."

Harry didn't look towards the snitch.

"Open it," Voldemort commanded. With a single flick of his wand, the snitch jerked slightly before it flapped feebly to be just in Harry's reach.

Harry's reached out tentatively as he grasp the small ball in his sweaty palm. Harry desperately hoped that Dumbledore was as smart as he remembered.

The snitches wings fluttered feebly against his hands. Nothing happened.

Voldemort hadn't moved. His red eyes remained narrowed as he stared at the snitch. Harry was barely able to conceal a tired grin. Dumbledore must have known he may have to receive the snitch under watchful eyes.

However, Harry's relief was short lived as he heard a familiar voice out of the darkness.

"My Lord, Potter didn't catch that snitch with his hand."

Voldemort looked annoyed at being interrupted, however he nodded allowing the young Malfoy to continue.

"My Lord," Malfoy's voice was oddly quiet. "Potter caught the snitch in his mouth."

Harry's heart sank, the small amount of hope he had vanished instantly. He glared at Malfoy but the Slytherin didn't meet his gaze.

"Open it," Voldemort hissed.

Harry didn't make a single movement.

"No."

Voldemort stood and drew his wand. The pressure was building in Harry's head, a shadow so oppressive that terror consumed every inch of him.

There was no way Harry could resist as his own arm moved against him. Harry was a slave to his own body as his own hand placed the snitch against his lips.

Voldemort released him almost instantly. Harry stumbled, banging into the table. Steadying himself slowly he looked down at the snitch still clasp in his cold hand. His scar was still stinging painfully.

"I open at the close."

Harry stared at the words he didn't understand.

Fortunately, Voldemort also seemed to not understand, but it was apparent he didn't suspect Harry to know either.

Sickness flooded Harry's throat as he swayed, his own thoughts and vision mixing with Voldemort's. His nightly terrors seemed all the more real.

"Can you just quit it?" Harry hissed. He may as well draw attention to the hell he'd been continuously subjected to these last few days.

Voldemort only gave a cold smile as he appeared to float across the room towards him. Harry couldn't help it, he tried to draw away but all strength in his legs seemed to have gone. He wasn't scared of Voldemort but this endless torment was relentless.

Voldemort stopped short just in front of Harry.

"It's not my problem if you cannot close your mind, Potter," Voldemort hissed.

"Just what the hell is the point?" Harry snapped as his vision swirled. Voldemort's own view was shifting dangerously in and out of focus as Harry stared at his own self standing feebly before him.

Voldemort seemed to consider Harry briefly before his mouth curved into a dark smile.

"I want your mind, Potter."

Harry blinked, his pain almost forgotten as he realised the true horror behind Voldemort's words.

"What?" Harry said.

Voldemort towered over Harry.

"I want your inner thoughts torn apart, your mind completely defenceless, the very essence of who you are stripped apart."

The reality was chilling.

"You want to possess me," Harry said, the sound of his own voice barely reached his own ears.

A cold unnatural smile crossed Voldemort's snake like face.

"I am offering you a simple way, involving your cooperation," Voldemort hissed.

The dread that was building nearly consumed Harry.

"My cooperation?" Harry said.

"Don't resist and it will be quick and for the most part painless. Unlike your current situation," Voldemort responded coolly.

"No," Harry said, shaking his head, despite the desperate longing coursing through him.

Voldemort didn't speak again, instead he raised his wand.

Harry barely heard the curse. His screams pieced his lungs as all breath left him. Harry collapsed, slamming hard onto the floor as pain unlike anything he remembered pierced through ever inch of his body.

Voldemort's curse ended abruptly, but Harry remained panting curled up on the stone floor.

"Pain is one thing," Voldemort said softly as he stooped low so Harry could only just hear him. "But resisting this, it would destroy your very being. Give in to me and your mind will remain whole, if absent."

Harry couldn't move, didn't dare. Oblivion would be bliss.

"Why do you care if I don't go insane?" Harry hissed.

Voldemort answered plainly, in an almost bored tone as he spun his wand lazily in his fingers, almost daring Harry to get back up and defy him.

"Because tampering with the mind is a dangerous thing and the outcome can never be predicted."

Harry felt himself going hollow as he tore his eyes away from Voldemort's gaze. Harry's mind was his very being but resisting may give Voldemort the knowledge that Harry was aware of his Horcrux's.

Harry swallowed, his mouth dry. He would regret this.

"No."

There had to be another way out.

Voldemort's red eyes sharpened immediately as he observed Harry in an almost predatory fashion.

"I will not offer you this choice again, Potter. Do not resist this."

Harry thought of Ron and Hermione. And Ginny. Would their memories alone be enough to sustain him.

"I would rather destroy myself."

Harry actually screamed from the pain that burst through his head.

"Trust me, Potter, that is arranged," Voldemort hissed.

Harry lay motionless as cold shivers raked through his body. His heart raced as he stared up at the top of the four poster bed. His bloodshot eyes blinked once, twice before he rolled over and groaned.

Every thought was a jumbled mess as flashes of Voldemort's latest victim swam before Harry's eyes. Harry shook his head, trying desperately to shake the image of the witch who had just perished in the most horrific way.

Harry shut his eyes, before he promptly opened them again as blood splashed red across his vision. Harry was slipping into Voldemort's mind so frequently now that Harry was beginning to lose all reason.

The voices didn't help either. Harry was convinced he was hearing things, dark whispers in his head every time he failed to sleep. He would also wake, standing in the middle of the room, cold and disorientated, with absolutely no recollection of his movements. Voldemort was mocking him, testing the boundaries of control.

Otherwise Voldemort had not returned to the manor since. Harry had long since lost track of what day it was, and the only contact he had now was Draco Malfoy.

Malfoy brought food twice a day and often left with no words exchanged. They had used to argue but Harry didn't have the energy, didn't have the desire to find out what was happening in the wizarding world anymore. Not when Harry could see it all first hand through Voldemort's eyes.

It couldn't go on any longer. Harry hadn't had a proper opportunity to escape. He needed to create one.

"I need to get out of here," Harry said.

Malfoy who had been sitting across the room reading a book looked up. Harry didn't see Malfoy's frown, or the disgruntled look at the untouched plate of food by Harry's bedside.

"You chose this," Malfoy said bluntly. "You could have just given in."

"If you're going to say stupid stuff then get out," Harry snapped as heat flushed to his face.

"Well you're not going anywhere if you don't eat something," Malfoy said. "You won't last five minutes."

"Forgive me," Harry said as he tilted his head and smiled coldly. "I don't particularly have an appetite after watching Voldemort murder someone."

Malfoy jerked at this, his eyes widening slightly as his mouth pressed firmly together.

Harry took a deep breath and tried again.

"You can let me out though," Harry pressed, urgently now. "No one would need to know."

Malfoy barely managed to pull his lips apart as he crossed his arms and stared hard at Harry.

"No."

Harry ignored him.

"It can't be that hard," he said. "Voldemort is never here and I could easily have slipped past you-"

"Yeah, and I'll get myself killed in the process," Malfoy snapped as he stood up fists balled, his book falling to the floor. "I don't owe you anything, Potter."

Harry chanced a glance at the Slytherin. Malfoy was Harry's only hope of getting out of the manor alive and the chances of this were slipping away as the start of September drew closer and Malfoy would return to school.

"I would owe you my life," Harry said. "If you just left the door open for a second longer-"

Malfoy scowled and this time he drew his wand.

"Just shut up and stop asking."

"But I guess you're used to murdering people," Harry continued, "What's a little more blood on your hands-"

"I haven't killed anyone," Malfoy snapped as black sparks spat from his wand.

"Didn't stop you trying though," Harry countered.

"Damn it, Potter. Just shut the hell up!"

There was a bang as Malfoy's curse narrowly missed Harry's head.

Harry didn't flinch.

"Deal with it Malfoy. You chose your side."

Malfoy didn't say anything at first, instead his eyes darkened as he turned and stormed out the room.

Harry was pretty sure Malfoy would have slammed the door if he could, but Harry only watched as it melted back to solid. Harry's smile slipped off his face as he stared blankly.

He needed a new plan.