Chapter 1: Happy Birthday Harry

Harry stared around the elegant banquet hall. On either side of him were windows so large they nearly touched the floor and ceiling. Tonight most of the windows were open to let in the cool summer breeze. Harry watched as the emerald, green drapes danced in the wind. Somewhere in the crowd a glass goblet fell to the floor followed by a cheer and laughter. Harry continued to look around. There were round tables around the edge of a dance floor. The tables were covered in table clothes that look of satin and a silver centerpiece with glowing candles. Harry leaned his head back in his dark oak chair. The chandeliers above him could only be described as elegant, especially as the candles lit as it grew darker. Harry was truly in a beautiful room, but he wished he was anywhere else.

To his right he heard the eleven chimes of a grandfather clock. Without moving his head, he closed his eyes and breathed deeply. In one hour a cake would be wheeled into the room to celebrate his 19th birthday. Harry shut his eyes tighter as he tried to remember the golden snitch cake Mrs. Weasley made for his birthday years ago. He'd give anything for a slice now. He was beyond thrilled and grateful when she brought the cake into the kitchen as everyone sang to him. His friends and family were the reason he grew to love his birthday. Harry opened his eyes and watched the people dance in the center of the room. They truly were his family and he wanted nothing more to be with them again, but not here. He prayed none of them would ever join him here.

Harry tried to focus on an old memory as he watched the couples twirl around each other. He could almost hear Ginny's laugh when he twirled her at Bill and Fleur's wedding. That was the last time he saw her. If he had known that at the time he would have kissed her and ignored Ron's presence.

Ron. Harry tilted his head back, letting his head rest against the chair's back as he tried to hold back tears. Even if he ever managed to escape, he'd never see Ron again.

Harry sat on the windowsill of his so called bedroom. The one joy he had in the room was the window. There he didn't feel as much of a prisoner. There he could watch the birds or any animal that came by. Sometimes he would imagine himself in the forest or try to make up a story involving the forest. He had never been good at fabricating stories and spending most of his time trapped in a room hadn't helped much.

Today he was paying attention to the flowers growing beneath his window. They were growing and the snow was gone so Harry at least knew it was Spring.

Harry closed his eyes as he heard the doorknob turn. He hoped it was a Death Eater just dropping something off or giving a message, but he was wrong.

"Good evening Harry." Even months after his capture, the hairs on his neck prickled as Lord Voldemort entered the room. Harry did his best to ignore him as he walked to the red leather chair next to the empty fireplace. He could hear the crinkling of paper so he assumed Voldemort had a newspaper again. For reasons he truly did not understand, Voldemort would occasionally read the Daily Prophet in his room. There was no real reason why he'd sit there, he rarely ever told Harry the news, let alone read an article.

"There may be something that interests you today, Harry." Harry could hear something in Voldemort's smooth voice. Was it anger or annoyance, was it happiness? Harry couldn't help but bite.

"And what might that be?" Harry's voice oozed with sarcasm. He knew he'd be punished for his tone, but he didn't care today. As expected, Voldemort grabbed hold of his long black hair, yanking his head backwards.

"You will not ruin my mood today." Voldemort hissed, an inch from Harry's face. "Nothing will ruin my day, if anything my day is about to get better." With that Voldemort threw Harry forward, hitting him against the window. Harry tried to hold back a gasp as the pain shot through his head. He tried to look away, expecting more, but instead Voldemort simply lay the Daily Prophet next to him and walked out.

Harry whipped around to see if he had truly left. As he turned the chain around his ankle rattled. What was he up to? Harry wondered as he picked up the paper. He knew there must be something in there Voldemort wanted him to see, but he couldn't help it, he needed contact with the outside world. He read hungrily through the Prophet but soon froze as he flipped another page. His body turned to ice, his fingertips felt numb, and his breath caught in his throat. Harry couldn't move, he just stared at the article title, Potter's Best Friend Dead. Underneath was a picture of Ron.

"Enjoying your party?" Voldemort's smooth voice took Harry from his thoughts.

"Extremely." Harry said sarcastically and rolling his eyes. He refused to look at Voldemort, who sat next to him in his grand throne. Voldemort ignored his tone.

"I do believe this party exceeds last year's. Perhaps next year's will be even better." Harry refused to look, but he could hear the smile upon Voldemort's lips. He wanted nothing more than to take the knife they'd soon be cutting the cake with and plunge it through his blacken heart. Harry huffed, if he even has a heart he thought.

Soon the music stopped, and the Death Eaters made a path to the dance floor. Harry watched as a tray table was rolled in by two house elves. The elves had outdone themselves. The cake was magnificent looking with it's three tiers and colorful flowers. Voldemort flicked his wand and nineteen silver candles appeared on the cake.

"Stand up Harry." Harry stood the best he could with the chains around his raw ankles. He did not feel like fighting right now, he only wanted the day to be over. The guests began singing happy birthday as the clock chimed twelve. Harry's face showed no emotion as they sung. Harry scanned the crowd for smooth blonde hair. He found it quickly. Looking sad, but still singing was Draco Malfoy. Harry focused on his face as the guests finished singing. He needed something to focus on. Draco must have know what Harry was doing, because he gave him a small nod. Two years ago, Harry could not have imagined how important that nod would be to him.

As the singing stopped Harry sat back in his chair. He watched as the guests cut themselves pieces of his birthday cake, a cake he'd never get to taste.

Hi everyone! My first story on FF. Please let me know what you think in the comments! Thank you!