Harry was amused. The man had been trying to break into his cell for 2 whole hours now and he would have, if Harry hadn't woken up and reinforced his wards. His skill was admirable, never attacking the same place twice. Harry was certain that his occlumency skills were the best in the world. The sleep he had put himself under had ended all magical activity within himself, except for strengthening his occlumency and sustaining his life. Occlumency was the only thing that would have helped in curing his insanity, and it had worked perfectly. A billion years of strengthening his occlumency and his mind was literally unpenetratable. His legilimency skills were quiet brilliant having had a1,00,000 years practice but they were nothing when compared to his occlumency. He was so calm, he barely exuded any thought, his mind almost invisible on the mental plane.

The wards around his bed were brilliantly done, Harry marveled at their deceiving were built in layers. If you disabled one ward, two others sprung up, if you disabled these, then four more sprung up. It was the most complicated bit of spellwork Harry had ever seen from a mortal. The only way to disable them from outside would be if the attacker tried to brute force his way in. He would succeed if he was magically stronger than the ward maintainer or if someone inside dropped them and Harry was sure he was stronger in magic even though he felt and looked like a living skeleton physically. Nathaniel had done an incredible job and Harry felt sorrow at his friend's passing. He was a good man.

Harry knew his attacker was a man. Every time he attacked Harry's mind, Harry had tried to read its in return. He had succeeded only once learning the person behind the probes was a man and then the attacks had become more fleeting and random.

The intensity of the attacks on his wards increased. Harry sighed, the man was tired with this game. He contemplated tiring him out but immediately disregarded the thought, he wanted out and he was unwilling to wait any longer.

He let the pressure increase to what he estimated a normal wizard could bear and then dropped his wards.

His bed suddenly expanded out of thin air and into a large circular room. The wall was black and the room was lit with torches. A sense of darkness hung about the air, as if people had screamed their throats hoarse in here and then some more. The room was lined with four entrances. A person stood at each door, 3 men and 1 woman. The moment harry saw them he knew they were magical.

"You are quite weak." a dry voice cut through the air.

Harry craned his neck backwards, a man stood behind his bed, his presence warped by the shadows. Harry immediately knew this was the man whose mind he'd read.

The man moved out of the shadows. He was tall, with crimson hair and maroon eyes. His body was thin and compact, like that of a runner. He wore a snake-skin cape and a richly decorated helmet, like a general's. An unsheathed sword hung at his waist, a long scratch in its center. His face was deathly white, with the appearance of a death mask or a polished skull that had its skin pulled back to give the appearance of life and was strikingly familiar.

"Mormon?" Harry said incredulously.

Mormon had been one of his most ingenious experiments with magic. Formerly he had been a part of a man named Sam. A pious man and a stout believer in god. As such, he was deeply scared of being possessed by demons from hell.

Harry had spent 5 years experimenting in his labs before he created the first spirit capable of possession using necromantic and soul magic. The principle was simple. If dead bodies could be reanimated, then dead souls could be reanimated too. He'd caught dementors and split them into two. Capturing the smoky whiteness that came out of them and then performed a simple spell to turn them into a soul container, which wouldn't let a soul escape, souls were incorporeal and the only way thing they couldn't pass through was another soul. Then he'd performed a dead summoning, which was basically the summoning of a soul from a person's body the moment he or she died and before his soul could escape to death.

His intention had been simple, a soul couldn't exist without a body. He wanted the soul to inhibit the recreated body of another soul, which would basically, be a prison. By doing this, he ensured that the living soul wouldn't die because it was trapped inside his soul container. Now he had an incorporeal "pet" soul.

He'd then forced the soul into Sam's body and cast a binding spell and the curse of horcruxes on Sam's mind.

Harry knew minds controlled bodies. And Sam's mind was now controlled by a soul. Ergo, Sam was possessed by a "demon from hell" and unable to do anything about it. Pleased with his work, he'd waited for the screams to begin.

However, for an inexplicable reason he never had understood, his pet soul shifted from Sam's mind into his very soul. The result was something he never would have predicted.

Sam's soul had burst into a thousand pieces. Each piece had turned into a sphere that shifted colours. He'd captured a few hundred of these and magically sealed them and experimented.

He was astounded with the results. Each and everyone of them was a living entity capable of magic and possession. They were naught but babies and they were immortal but they could feel pain and suffering. They had a consciousness, and were capable of splitting into two pieces to reproduce. They expressed emotions by changing their colour.

He then learnt how to summon them and caught every last one of them so he could cast an enchantment on the entire species. Now they could never possess anyone unless summoned, otherwise they would be too powerful and dangerous to let loose into the world.

Hundreds of years later, he'd summoned them for the first time to possess one of his enemies, a man named shaham. The man had turned into what he liked to call "a shade" and renamed himself Mormon.

It had been glorious, watching his once enemy turn into an ally and fight against his very own friends, but soon he'd realised shades weren't trustworthy. Mormon wanted to kill him because he believed he was stronger than Harry and wanted to prove it to the magical world by bringing them his head. Shades adored and loved power. Harry then had the fight of his life on his hands, absolutely loving every moment of it much to the dismay of Mormon. He'd soon discerned that shades were unkillable. After 2 long years of planning, he captured Mormon and began to interrogate him. Shade or not, the cruciatus curse still hurt him

Over the course of a hundred years, he'd tortured every tiny secret out of the spirits. Then he cast a spell that rent a tear in the very fabric of reality and thew the shade into the void, watching dispassionately as the he was wiped from existence. The spirits inside him were cruel ones and the world was better off with them dead.

Harry stared as the man in front of him frowned in confusion in response to his question before leaning forward.

In a menacing tone, he growled "Our name is Durza. An admirable attempt at hiding yourself if I might say so. Did you really think Galbatorix would let any magician in Algaeasia deny his summons and hide? Now that you've been found out, you will face your punishment, here, in Gil'ead. Then you shall be sent to Uruba'een to pledge your service to the king in the ancient language. I hope your bed was comfortable, your new quarters shall be...unpleasant.

A sharp probe hit his mind, but his occlumency turned it aside like it was nothing. Durza gritted his teeth and then uttered a strange word.

"Jierda"

Harry gasped in surprised pain, his leg moving in a direction it wasn't meant to be and a crack echoed through the stale air. Tears threatened to come into his eyes. His leg was bent outward at the knee, broken.

Satisfied Durza turned and left.

The 3 men and the woman at the door came forward, two of them grabbed him under the armpits and jerked him off the bed. He struggled trying to keep them from dragging him on his broken leg, but the third man raised his palm and uttered another word.

"Slytha"

Harry tried to keep himself awake, but the effect of the spell was almost instantaneous and he fell into the comforting embrace of sleep