Harry:

He knew the exact moment he woke up and grumbled. It didn't feel like he'd slept at all. Maybe the stupid potion had never worked, he put his hand inside his pocket and pulled out his pocket watch, surprised greatly at how very tiring the simple act felt. The watch had been enchanted so it would show the exact number of years since he'd fallen asleep. The digital digits showcased a number that seemed impossible. He shook it, as if trying to get it to work properly but deep inside he knew the number was correct. He quit what he was doing and instead retreated into his mind to check for signs of insanity. If he was insane, he decided, he would kill himself right now, he could not risk loosing a nightmare into the world again. He remembered how age had changed him, he had become the greatest despair of all of mankind, a quasi-god, with powers that were almost unreal, even for a wizard. Everywhere he went, death had followed. At first, he was amused by it, the high of killing an euphoria. He had become creative in the end, producing the most torturous ways a person could die. Slowly he'd shifted from mass-killings in crowded places to kidnapping a few people every decade. Splitting open their minds and spreading bare their soul. He would find out every single one of their fears and create the most gruesome personalised tortures suited to the persons deepest and most irrational terrors and then he would inflict it upon them day and night sometimes for years.

One of the most horrifying things he had done had been his last kill. The man had been burnt by acid previously and that was his greatest fear. He never wanted to be burnt again.

So he designed a torment for him. He turned every single atom of blood in his body into the most concentrated acid he could think of and then charmed it so that every time the man was almost dead it transmuted into a healing elixir and healed him until he was completely healthy and then turned back into an acid. This had continued for an entirety of six months. The screams of this man had been extremely satisfactory so he had decided to let him die earlier as mercy. It had been gratifying and delightful at that time but now it horrified him and caused him deep anguish.

He remembered the look in the man's eyes when he'd ended his punishment and healed him, he had begged for his death like every other man or woman he'd tortured. They'd all begged on their knees but this one came forward and kissed the hem of his robes.

A flash of recognition had crossed his mind, followed by a feeling of deep loathing as he remembered Voldemort. Unbidden to him, his name came to his mind, and the names of his friends, things he had forgotten a millennia ago. He remembered how horrified he'd become at that very instant as he remembered himself for the first time in a thousand years. He had looked at the man begging for death and a flutter of indecision went through his mind. He raised his wand and cast the memory charm on him instead of the killing curse, erasing the last six months of his life. He cast every healing spell he knew on the man until he became healed fully, he still looked extremely malnourished though, but that would go away with time. He searched the mind of his victim and found that he was a muggle, he had a wife who he loved and who loved him dearly. His wife had been late into her pregnancy when he'd taken her husband. Shame spread through his body in waves.

He'd then bought a magical cell phone and dialed in his wife's number.

"Hello, this is Sahperia Presley, who is speaking?"

Her voice rang clear and soft and beautiful. Suddenly he felt an incredible desire to possess this woman but he clamped down on it.

"You are the wife of Mr Oliver Presley." I stated into the phone.

"Yes I am." Her voice broke a little.

"If you want your husband back alive then you need to get a bag of a 10000 pounds and throw it into the river Thames. Make sure you do it before the week is over or you'll never see him again."

"Wait wha-"

He cut the phone. Most probably the woman would think this was a horrible prank, but out of sheer desperation she would throw 10000 pounds into the river. Muggles were foolish and predictable that way. A lousy ransom for a kidnapping that was this long and baffling for everyone involved. You didn't always kidnap someone for half a year and then ask for just 10000 pounds, regardless, she would get her husband back, bound and gagged lying in her living room when she got back after throwing the money into the river which was at a 5 minute drive from their home. Her husband was well off enough that they could afford paying the ransom.

The money would go into an anonymous trust he'd set up for helping the Presley's through their trauma. Memory charm and healing spells or not, the man's body would not forget his abuse and sooner or later he would face nightmares of being burned alive, that would pass if he got proper psychiatric attention though, so he made sure to donate a few million pounds to the trust himself.

True to his prediction, the next day the woman had thrown the money into the river and he'd apparated her husband into their living room. He'd watched as she came back forlorn and crying and how shocked she'd become when she saw her husband lying on the floor in front of her. Tears of despair had turned into tears of joy as soon as she'd checked he was still alive.

He'd left then and vanished from the world, putting his body under a meditative trance for 10000 years. After coming out of it, he was saner yet still he had the urge to kill something. This was when he'd met a peculiar felllow named Nathaniel who reminded him of Dumbledore. He'd helped him defeat the dark lady who co-incidentally had been his ex-wife, while staying away from the actual fighting afraid the blood and gore would drive him insane again. In return he'd made Nathaniel promise he would perform the ritual he had deisgned to put him under a deep and healing sleep.

Suddenly his mind jerked back to his present situation. His musings had taken but a moment. Now completely alert, he felt a consciousness skim the surface of his mind testing his defences, then withdrawing quickly and he started.

He had slept for a little over a billion years but he'd woken because someone or something was trying to break through the wards around his bed.