How long had Harry been kept captive in this windowless dungeon cell? Had it been days or years? Honestly, either was likely. Her year-long hunt for Voldemort's Horocruxs with Hermione and Ron seemed like a lifetime ago. The battle at Hogwarts felt like nothing more than a fever dream. Harry knew some of Voldemort's remaining supporters were the ones that captured her right after the battle was won.
Every so often a different cloaked Death Eater, complete with those stupid masks, would come down and torture her for what felt like hours, so they weren't exactly being subtle about their affiliation. Every minute she spent confined she became a little more weak, her strength sapped as her will to live slowly faded in the darkness of the dungeon. It wouldn't be long before her body finally gave out.
Today started differently, which in her experience, rarely meant something good for her. The half dead House Elf that brought her meager daily rations of bread and water didn't come down. Instead, two masked Death Eaters entered her cell. Harry had long ago come to terms with her life ending before it had truly begun, "for neither could live while the other survives" it had said. She could only hope this meant that this was the endless cycle of the fighting and suffering was finally coming to an end.
The two cloaked Death Eaters grabbed her by her arms and pulled her roughly with them as they walked back the way they came, uncaring if she even tried to walk. Harry felt a little pathetic that she couldn't even muster up the strength to walk, but decided that, if they were going to kill her, they could do the work to get her there. They drug her for what felt like the length of Hogwarts before finally stopping and dropping her face first onto the floor. Her head knocking against the hard stone floor hurt surprisingly little compared to every other part of her.
"Ah, good. Put her on the altar," She heard the faux-regal voice of Lucius Malfoy say. Harry really shouldn't have been surprised he was at least somewhat involved. He lost nearly all of his family's political power due to her actions and the fall out of the second Blood-War. The worthless hypocrite would want revenge for the mess he helped create and was rightly blamed for.
The two cloaked Death Eaters grabbed her by the arms once more and lifted her, depositing her roughly onto an unforgiving surface, her eyes cracked open and she gazed out the only window she could see into the darkness of the moonless night.
"Tie her down. Loop the ropes around the hooks on the top and bottom. Make them tight. We don't want her wiggling her way out of this one," Lucius commanded the cloaked Death Eaters.
Harry could only watch while the cloaked Death Eaters tied rough ropes around her wrists and ankles. Lucius was standing near her head, looking down at something on a podium that reminded her of the pictures in the magazines that Bill would send Ron before the war. It looked to be made of some kind of dark stone with pictographs etched around the neck. A shame she didn't know what it said. Probably something that was at least bad if Lucius was using it for a ritual. The cloaked Death Eaters pulled her arms up over her head and secured them along with her legs. Even if she had the strength and her wand, she wasn't sure if she would be able to get out of the restraints. As it was, she was fully at their mercy, just as she always had been.
"Take your places," Lucius commanded. Harry looked around her, only now realizing there were eight more Death Eaters kneeling around her in addition to the two that brought her from the dungeon. The room was lit by many candles that were obviously not intended for their gift of light. That or black flame candles were soon to be popular among the British community.
Lucius opened a large book that was hidden from Harry's view on the podium and began speaking in a language Harry didn't recognize. The Death Eaters kneeling around her began to bow and sit up rhythmically as Lucius spoke.
Harry could only sigh and look up at the drab, dark colored ceiling. All her hard work and she wasn't sure how she was going to die or to what end. This all seemed a little much to just kill her, but any other reason she could think of seemed too outlandish. She had no choice, but to wait and hope that whatever happened to her would not be too painful or at least be short.
A man making a startled noise to her left pulled Harry away from her dark thoughts. The four masked Death Eaters on that side jumped up and backed away while looking down at something that Harry could not see from her vantage point. The room was quiet as what was happening finally came into Harry's view. It looked like a column of pale yellow sand was bubbling upwards in a way that could only be done with magic, though none that Harry had ever seen. It continued on until it finally stopped far above where Harry lay. The column stopped moving for a long, quiet moment until it suddenly fell away, revealing the back of a darker skinned bald man wearing dark robes in much the same vein as the Death Eaters.
The room was silent while everyone seemingly tried to figure things out before another Death Eater shouted accusingly, "Who is this Lucius?! That's not our Lord!" He demanded,
At least now Harry knew what the purpose of this ritual was. She wasn't sure they could bring back the piece of Voldemort's soul she had seen in Limbo and somehow anchor it to exist in her body, but Harry couldn't be sure any of that even happened. She'd shrug if she had the ability so she settled for a sigh instead.
"I'm not sure what happened," Lucius' voice wavered slightly with the subtle sounds of turning paper above her head.
Harry didn't care much about the now bickering Death Eaters. Their ceaseless chatter lost any relevance once she learned all they talked about was their hateful ideology. Instead, she watched the unknown man look around the room and the people within it. He turned around, continuing to take in the rest of the room, however now Harry could take him in fully. He was…strange in many ways.
The man looked foreign, maybe from the Middle East, but Harry couldn't be sure. She didn't get out that much. He wore a large flowing black robe with an expensive looking silver belt that hung down his front. His robes were surprisingly simple with no embellishments. Strange to her, but that could be because she was so used to dealing with overly pretentious bigots. It wasn't until he turned just right that the low light caught something on a thin cape she didn't realize he was wearing and made it sparkle nicely. He also wore something on his neck that was also black and had some sort of pattern on it that she couldn't quite see from where she still was.
Why was Harry paying so much attention to this man? She was prepared to die so Voldemort could be brought back again. Or just die. Given how well the Death Eaters first attempt at whatever ritual they were attempting went, her dying was the most likely outcome.
"Then kill him and we'll try again!" Lucius' yelled at the bickering Death Eaters.
"With you in charge?! Not a chance!" Another masked Death Eater yelled back.
The man continued to look around the room with a hawk-like intensity until he looked down to where Harry was still laying pathetically on what felt like a stone slab she was still tied to. She saw the spark of recognition in the man's eyes, much like what she saw in Draco's eyes when Lucius was trying to get him to identify her in their house at the height of the war. The man's head snapped back up as he took in the people around them once more, though this time with intent.
"I'll kill him and do the ritual this time. You clearly did it wrong," A Death Eater, a dumb sounding tenor probably Crabbe or Goyle, growled from Harry's right while taking out his wand.
Harry was struck with an intense concern for the strange man. She didn't know anything about him, but she knew he didn't deserve to die just because these elitist idiots summoned the wrong person. The masked Death Eater pointed his wand at the man quite casually. The man reacted by lifting his left hand and jabbing his hand towards the Death Eater. Harry watched the air above her solidify into a S curve before shooting out towards the Death Eater. It seemed to pass, unimpeded, through the Death Eater and making his robes flutter from the wind before the air dissipated just behind him. The room was still and quiet while everyone looked towards the masked Death Eater, who did not move.
"Vincent?" Lucius questioned without real concern.
There was a soft wet sound before the Death Eater in question literally fell to pieces. It appeared that the attack the unknown man used against the Death Eater cut right through him without any resistance. Harry looked back up at the man, who was smirking in a self satisfied way that she was used to seeing on the faces of Death Eaters, but it looked different on this man. Almost like it was more earned, somehow.
Lucius was saying something, but Harry wasn't paying any attention to him. The man raised two fingers on his right hand, which was quickly followed by a rough grinding sound that ended with more wet sounds. The other Death Eaters must have realized they were being attacked and began returning attacks at the man. Well, Harry would say 'trying to return attacks' since their colorful spells were making contact with the man's body, but did absolutely nothing to him. He didn't even react to being hit and she knew at least a few of them should at least hurt, if not right out kill him. He calmly sent out more of the air attacks and cut them all down in three more gestures.
The man turned back to Harry, looking down at her with soft eyes and the same smirk still on his lips. He spoke to her in a language that she knew she had heard before, but could not name. The man's smirk slipped as he lightly grimaced. He motioned elegantly over her with his left hand and the restraints fell away from her wrists and ankles like they were made of water. Harry groaned softly when she brought her arms back down to their proper position. She tried to sit up, but her body was just too weak from her captivity to cooperate. Too weak to even flinch when she felt the man slip his hand around the back of her neck and help her sit up. Once Harry was up and stable, she looked up to the strange man and saw him smiling sweetly down at her. This close she could see the pattern on his neck covering was actually two snakes that made a strange design with their bodies with their heads meeting in the middle.
Quick footsteps echoing slightly to her right caught her attention. She looked towards the open doorway just in time to see Draco wearing his usual smart suits skid to a stop. The man raised his left hand again, no doubt to attack Draco with the same ruthless efficiency as he did with the Death Eaters. Harry reacted by grabbing onto the man's arm with a quickness that surprised her. The man looked down at her with mild surprise, but made no move to follow through with the planned attack.
"Please," Harry hissed, her body protesting looking up so she settled for looking at the snake motifs he wore. The man's eyebrows rose slightly, but made no other move. "Not Draco."
The man looked up to Draco, who stood paralyzed with fear. He looked back down to Harry with soft eyes. "Anything for my beloved," He replied in Parseltongue. Harry was confused by the use of the endearment, but chose to not to think about it just yet.
The man lowered his left and motioned to Draco with his right hand, beckoning him to come closer. Draco immediately began to walk towards them, but seemed shocked by it. Harry wondered if the man was using magic to compel Draco to move. Draco walked right up to the table Harry was now sitting on. Only once Draco was right next to her, did Harry realize just how tall the man was. Draco was taller than her by at least a hand and this man towered over him by a full head at least. The man spoke to Draco in the same language as before and the look on Draco's face told her that he didn't understand him either.
"Harry?" Draco asked with a shaking voice. He hadn't taken his eyes off the man on the other side of the table. "Are you…ok?" He winced at the question as he said it. Obviously she was not. "What's going on here?" he asked instead.
"I don't know," Harry replied honestly. There wasn't much here she actually understood, not that she had the energy to even care. "You need to get out of here. Get the Aurors. Tell them everything."
Draco finally looked at her with an incredulous glare. "What about you? What about him?!" Draco's shoulder moved slightly, like he was trying to gesture to the man. Harry guessed the man was holding Draco in place wandlessly. "What's happening Harry?" Draco asked in a quiet voice.
"Your father tried to sacrifice me to bring Lord Voldemort back to life," Harry spoke bluntly. She was far too tired to put anything softly. Draco's eyes got so big that Harry would have laughed at how comical he looked on any other day. "This guy came instead and killed everyone involved. He's a parseltongue. That's all I know."
Draco's eyes flitted between Harry and the man beside her. "What…" He started, but seemed to choke on his words slightly. "What do you want me to do?"
"Be better," They may have had their differences in the past and tried to kill each other a few times, but that didn't mean Draco had to suffer for his family's sins. "The cycle of suffering won't end if we keep feeding it," Harry pleaded with Draco. So many people were unwilling to listen, but maybe Draco would.
Draco looked at her with an intensity she hadn't seen from him for what seemed like forever, but was probably only a few seconds before he nodded slowly.
Harry wanted to cry. She had done so many things for so many people and yet it all seemed so pointless in the end. She wasn't sure what was going to happen now, but maybe Draco could be something else now.
"Thank you, Draco," She sniffed. "For everything."
Draco nodded slowly. The man next to them motioned with his hand and Draco jerked in response. He raised his hands, seemingly to check if he was actually released from whatever spell the man had put on him. The man reached down and took Harry into his arms to carry with more care than she was expecting. His hands didn't aggravate any of her numerous wounds, which left her relieved. Draco stood frozen as he watched the man perform some unknown spell and they were gone.