Harry was too terrified not to obey. Without looking back at Ron, Hermoine and Ginny, without looking at anyone really, he forced his trembling legs to move forward. The trip across the Hall took much longer than it normally would, or at least, that's was it felt like to Harry.
Still, another, rather distant, but present nonetheless, feeling calmed his distress down a little; as long as Voldemort was taking him somewhere, Ron and Hermoine would probably be safe. As long as he kept walking, nothing bad would happen to them.

Voldemort waited for him to pass and closed the door behind them. Harry heard the dimmed orders from the Death Eaters through the door, but didn't really listen. He was standing really close – too close – to Voldemort, much closer than he'd have liked. His scar started to increase its burning; white-hot pain flashed across his forehead, and it him took a lot not to press his hand against the burning wound. Instead, he briefly squeezed his eyes tight and hoped for the pain to subside. His eyes shot open, however, when he felt Voldemort's hand rest on his shoulder. He pushed him forward and Harry walked, wondering where Voldemort would take him.

"Do you remember what I promised you?" whispered Voldemort from behind, with a low, dark hiss. Harry would have dearly liked to answer with an insult, but he chose to remain silent. He wished Voldemort would finally grow tired of this game. Maybe if Harry pretended not to care, he would stop.

They entered a room Harry had never seen before. It looked somewhat of a conference room, with a large, handsome table in the middle, and beautiful chandeliers, hanging from the ceiling. The room was decorated with paintings. Old men and women, playing cards, while having a drink. Yet, after a few seconds, it became obvious that they merely pretended not to care for what was going on.

Harry looked around and stopped dead in his tracks, causing Voldemort to walk into him. Lupin, Tonks, Shacklebolt, Fred, George, Mr. Weasley and a few others Harry had seen briefly before, back in Grimmauld Place, were laying against the wall, piled up together, unconscious – or were they dead? Harry's heart pounded hard in his chest. He heard Voldemort's soft chuckle replace the hiss he'd let out before. Voldemort stepped away from Harry and pushed him further into the room.

"No," Harry whispered and sank to his knees before the pile of lifeless people. "No, please… Don't be dead. Wake up… Please…"

"Don't be pathetic, Harry," said Voldemort, but there was an odd thrilling in his voice; he was clearly enjoying himself. He took a seat opposite of Harry, and tilted his head; his snake like eyes dilated with excitement. "They're merely Stunned."

Harry stroked Lupin's arm and turned around to face Voldemort. "What are you going to do with them?"

"Well, that is up to you," answered Voldemort very softly, while caressing his wand. "I remember myself promising you to kill your friends, one by one, if you were to misbehave. As it so happened-"

"I didn't mean to," Harry said at once.

"Silence!" Voldemort cried, raising his wand warningly. "I'm very close to having enough, Harry. If you dare to interrupt me one more time…"

Voldemort didn't finish his threat, but Harry got the illocutionary tenor. He pressed his lips together and gave Voldemort a hateful glare.

"Even if you didn't intent to, you still disobeyed. But I will show mercy. You can decide which one of them is about to die…"

For a few seconds, Harry just stared. Then, without being able to stop himself, he shook his head.

"Pick one, Harry," said Voldemort. His malicious glare intensified. "Pick one, or I will."

"No," he muttered, "no, please."

"Ah, I see I can make you beg again… Why, out of your own free will at that! Very good, Harry, very good… Though, I'm afraid, not good enough."

"Don't! Please, I will do anything!" pleaded Harry desperately. He hated himself. Hated how weak he was, how he kept begging to Voldemort. Where was that boy from over a year ago? The boy who refused to beg, refused to play along? Who had fought while knowing there was no defense – no rescue possible? He'd been afraid back then too. And Voldemort had hurt him as well. So, there really was no excuse.

But this wasn't about him now. He would beg, play along, obey –anything, to make sure they were safe. Nobody was going to die anymore.

"Anything, you say…" Voldemort whispered, lowering his wand, still glaring at the boy before him.

"Yes," Harry answered, though still a little begrudgingly.

"I already have the power to make you do anything I want, Harry. Have you forgotten?"

Harry didn't answer. He glared back at Voldemort, and slowly rose from the ground, to stand between the Order and Voldemort, like a shield. Neither of them said anything. The silence was crushing down on Harry, who was still debating inwardly whether to give in or keep fighting.

"No, you don't," Harry finally said, thinking fast. Voldemort simply frowned.

"If you kill any of them, even hurt any of them, I will never stop to fight, never stop to thwart your miserable plans. But if you leave them alone, I'll do as you say."

"Hahaha!" laughed Voldemort maniacally. "Ha ha, look at you, Harry! Trying to blackmail me. Why, you are more like me than I thought."

Harry shivered. He didn't want to resemble Voldemort in any way. It was like his second year all over again.

"Or maybe, there's a little more of me inside of you," Voldemort added thoughtfully. "I accept, Harry. You've got yourself a deal," Voldemort continued. He rose from his chair and walked over to Harry. "However, I don't need to remind you what will happen if you suddenly decide to do something you did not intent to do, now do I?"

"No," Harry answered, feeling both relieved and defeated. Voldemort scowled. "I mean, no sir."

"Did I tell you to call me "sir"? Do I look like a teacher to you?" asked Voldemort softly.

"No, I'm not calling you a professor, right? And well, I don't see you as my lord either, but you keep insisting for me to be polite, so…" Harry shrugged. For a moment, Harry thought Voldemort was going to attack, but the latter didn't move. Suddenly, he smiled.

"You are testing me, Harry and I warn you to be more cautious. After all, you're still going to receive punishment..."

He raised his wand and Harry steeled himself, but before Voldemort could strike, the door opened and Death Eaters appeared.

"My lord, we've finished the new dormitories. It is all set for tomorrow."

But instead of receiving the rewarding words the Death Eater had expected, Voldemort seemed annoyed.

"Did you honestly think I want to be disturbed with this? Leave! Now!" Voldemort hissed. The Death Eaters didn't need telling twice; as quick as they'd appeared, they left the room, leaving Harry once more to Voldemort's mercy.

"Don't you want to celebrate your victory with them, then?" Harry tried, but wished he hadn't. Voldemort looked livid.

"Silence," he warned, "playtime is over. You've humored me, and so I've been very lenient with you. You are, however, mistaken if you think it is safe to test your boundaries."

Harry didn't trust himself to speak; it was best to stay silent. He held in his breath and eyed Voldemort's wand, as its owner raised it up for the second time.

And there it was again; the blinding, sickening pain, rushing through his whole body. Waves of white-hot fire ran through his tissues, making him scream at the top of his lungs. It was different than the pain's he'd experienced before, but agonizing nonetheless.

Then it finally stopped. He lay on the floor, shivering; his face closed in a grimace. Slowly, his breathing came to back him. He realized the pain had been brief; nothing like the eternity's of torture he'd endured before.

"And now, you will kneel."

Harry looked up. He knew what was coming now and it terrorized him. Not for the inevitable pain, but for something worse than that; even worse than enduring the Cruciatus Curse. He didn't want his back to wear the Mark, didn't want at all for it to become more visible.

But what choice did he have? Voldemort made sure Harry's life was becoming a living hell, now that he couldn't kill him. And with the threat of his friends lives, he really couldn't afford to stand up to Voldemort anymore.

Trembling, Harry slowly sat up right and frantically, thought of ways to stall. Apparently, Voldemort was aware of the many thoughts in his head, for he was chuckling, while elevating his wand. Harry felt his robes around his back get torn apart, with the unmistakable searing sensation, piercing in his back. At the same time, a red vapor emerged at the tip of the wand, spiraling down, until its features became more solid.

"You will receive ten strokes. Now, kneel!" ordered Voldemort, while brandishing his wand.

"Ten?" croaked Harry, unable to keep his eyes off the shiny whip. It seemed to hiss at him, like a hungry, red snake, and it unnerved Harry to the core. Voldemort's malicious grin darkened.

"Yes, ten. And then you've come off easy. Surely, you will agree that you deserve it."

But Harry didn't agree. His chances of getting rid of the already exciting mark on his back, was now becoming very slim. But his stalling time had reached its end.

"Kneel!" cried Voldemort, with narrowed eyes. "Do not make me double your punishment."

"Alright, alright…" Harry hastily pushed himself onto his knees and pressed his hands on the ground, to steady himself. His eyes followed Voldemort, who started to walk around him, until he could no longer see him. He still felt his presence behind him, and closed his eyes. There was a loud sweeping noise –

He let out a gasp of pain when the first stroke hit him. It was familiar and yet ill-at-ease at the same time. The pain burned into his flesh, spread throughout his entire body, as if he was slowly set on fire. He groaned when the second strike blew onto his back.

He lost counting with the sixth. His clenched fists prevented him from falling over. With grinded teeth he waited until the unbearable white-hot fire would finally be over. Though, in his agony, he couldn't stop thinking about the Mark. Each blow would make it more visible, would carve that ugly symbol more deeply into his back.

Please, let it be over soon… He's way past ten now, please.

It stopped. Harry scrambled to his feet, and swayed a little when his head throbbed extra painfully. His back felt raw.

"Out of everyone I've ever tortured, I enjoy your pain the most, Harry," said Voldemort softly, and waved his wand. Harry's robes knitted themselves together again.

"Great," murmured Harry quietly.

"Do not talk back to me. Or I shall have to revoke our little deal. Am I understood?"

Harry shot him a look of pure hatred, before snarling "yes". He turned his gaze away from Voldemort and walked over to the lifeless body's from the members of the Order. They were still unconscious.

"Will you let them go, now?" he asked, and crouched beside them.

"Of course not, Harry. However, they are allowed to be re-educated."

Harry turned to meet Voldemort's eyes again. "What do you mean?"

"They are to be send away, to a secure location, were they will get reconditioned. That is, of course, if you can keep your little promise."

Harry suppressed a shiver. "And the professors?"

"The teachers of Hogwarts will await the same fate. With the exception of some reliable professors, of course," answered Voldemort calmly. He strode over to Harry and beckoned him to step away. Harry did; the burning in his scar told him Voldemort was not at all calm.

"Were are you going to send them?" he asked.

"I think Azkaban will do for now," said Voldemort and turned his back to the Order, to face Harry again. "Now, enough questions. We shall have to discuss what we're going to do with you."

Harry swallowed. He was torn between even caring anymore, since he already had lost too much, or keep fighting. Whatever Voldemort had in store for him, would only be another miserable matter, piled upon the others.

"What do you have in mind, then?" Harry decided to reply. "Send me to Azkaban as well?"

"Surely, you do not expect me to allow you to stay here at Hogwarts, now do you?" replied Voldemort, with a soft smile around his lipless mouth.

"Why not? Why bring me here in the first place, then? You have my wand. I can't exactly pull off a riot here, can I?"

"Do not take me for a fool, Harry Potter," said Voldemort dangerously. "You can acquire another wand, learn new tricks, make plans with your little friends, and I do not want to waste my time to keep an eye on you."

"Well, then don't. I won't mind if you'd finally leave me alone."

Voldemort laughed mirthlessly. He tilted his head, as if he was studying Harry, and then slowly raised his wand. Harry felt his robes shift around his back.

"You won't learn, will you? Another ten strokes it is then."

Harry's insides plummeted sickeningly. He backed away slowly, and ignored the sharp pain when his robes got torn apart again. The red vapor emerged from Voldemort's wand, and Harry stepped back faster now, until he felt himself collide with the wall behind him. Voldemort strode dangerously closer to Harry, until he was mere an inch away.

Harry looked up to the red, merciless eyes and pressed himself against the wall, ignoring the already burning sensation in his back.

"Stop."

"I give you three seconds to kneel," whispered Voldemort.

"No, stop. Please," Harry croaked, both panicking and hating himself, yet again.

"One."

"No."

"Two."

"No. Please!"

Voldemort waited for another second, and then grabbed Harry's shoulder, hauling him away from the wall. Harry fell on the ground hard, and hastily turned around to hide his back. He pressed himself on his arms and pulled himself up.

In a jumble of black robes, Voldemort stood before him again, grabbing his hair and forced him to the ground. Harry struggled, turning sideways, as far as he could, so that Voldemort couldn't reach his back.

"Would you rather have me kill your friends? The Mudblood, for example? Or your precious, blood traitor friend?"

Harry stopped struggling. This was getting him nowhere. He faced the floor and waited for the inevitable first strike, but before Voldemort could deliver, the door opened again. Both Harry and Voldemort looked up, when they heard a deep, smooth voice filling the room.

"My lord, the arrangements are made-"

The figure in the doorway had bowed a little, but stopped speaking the moment he turned upright. He frowned slightly at the scene before him.

"My apologies, my lord," he said softly, and looked from Voldemort, who was still holding Harry by his hair, to Harry, who was kneeling on the ground. "I see I'm interrupting."

"Ah, Severus," said Voldemort delighted and let Harry go. "Not at all. Enter."

Harry wondered what Snape could have done to spare himself a telling-off by Voldemort for his interruption. Maybe Voldemort didn't care whether Snape were to witness Harry's punishment. Harry felt sick. The thought alone of Snape attending Voldemort's cruelty towards Harry made his inside cringe.

Harry watched Snape stepping inside. His eyes betrayed a malicious glee when he looked at Harry. Harry stared back, hating the man with the greasy hair before him.

"We are ready to escort the remainder of the Order to Azkaban, my lord," Snape said, while turning his gaze away from Harry to look at Voldemort. "Whenever you are ready."

"Very well," Voldemort answered, while lowering his wand. The red, snakelike whip evaporated into nothingness. "There's still a small matter I have to attend to before we depart."

Snape gave a dignified nod and shot a look at Harry from the corner of his eyes.

"It does not include the boy," added Voldemort softly, who hadn't missed Snape's eye-movement.

"Is he to be transported as well?" Snape asked, as if Harry was not in the room.

"Yes. I believe it would be best if the boy got locked up, too, albeit separate from the rest," answered Voldemort. Both he and Snape looked down at Harry, who was standing up, now the threat of getting whipped again had passed. Maybe Snape's arrival wasn't so bad after all, it had saved him another ten strikes.

Testing his luck, he turned to Voldemort and tried to keep his voice steady. "I'm not going."

Voldemort gave him a look of delighted surprise. "And what makes you think you have a choice in the matter, Harry?"

Harry didn't answer. Voldemort turned to Snape.

"How were you able to endure this insolence for five years?"

"Trust me, my lord. I've been trying to quell Potter's cheek since the moment he first stepped into Hogwarts. Sadly, his poor manners have always been justified by others, as he was Dumbledore's golden boy. But had his fate been rested with me… If I had been given a proper chance to amerce his behavior…" Snape's voice trailed off.

"You shall have this chance now, Severus. I shall leave the boy in your hands until I return. I've wasted enough time on him as it is."

Voldemort gave Harry a last malevolent stare, then turned towards the door and vanished. Harry watched him leave and turned to meet Snape's intent glare. Suddenly, he rushed towards him and Harry hastily backed away. His hand grabbed his robes and he pulled Harry closer to him, while shooting another quick look at the door.

"Listen, Potter. It is now, more than ever, of great importance that you learn to shut your mind and study Occlumency! Otherwise I cannot help you."

"Help me with what?" Harry asked bemused, in doubt whether to trust Snape.

"I cannot tell you. Not until you've learned to close your mind, especially with the Dark Lord. Control your emotions, conceal your deepest thoughts. Otherwise, you will imperil the last chance of hope we've got."

"But I don't know how to do that!" said Harry angrily. "You've never explained properly how to-"

"Enough Potter, I have no time for your childish foolishness. Empty your mind, control your emotions. Practice this every day, every lone moment, and practice hard. It is vital!"

"Okay, fine. I will try."

"No, it is not enough. You must succeed. Do you understand me?"

Harry stared at the man's face. He'd never really known whether he could trust him. Then again, Dumbledore had trusted him. And clearly, he was having some best interest at heart, for encouraging him to master Occlumency.

"Yes."

"Good. Now I have endangered myself enough. Forget our conversation and practice hard and quick. And Potter, keep your head down for a while. I know you're proud to foul the air with your insolent tongue, but if you want to survive, if you want to fight, it is important to not draw the Dark Lord's attention. Am I clear?"

"Crystal, sir," Harry answered. He couldn't help himself, despite Snape's warning, he still couldn't stand the man and his loathing behavior.

Snape ignored his little defiance. Instead, he shot another glance at the door and let go of Harry when footsteps echoed through the hallway.

"Remember, practice hard," Snape whispered, and suddenly, drew his wand and pointed it at Harry. He felt something streak across his face like a blunt knife and the blast forced him to the ground. He landed flat on his back, with a crash that knocked all the breath out his body.

Voldemort reentered the chamber, and gave an appreciatively look at Snape. With him, a couple of Death Eaters emerged through the doorway. The room was soon ringing with laughter. Harry slowly got to his feet though his legs were trembling so badly they barely supported him.

"That will do, Severus," said Voldemort, and gestured for the Death Eaters to attend to the members of the Order. They did, lifting each in the air and levitated them out of the room. With a painful whirl in his stomach, Harry watched as the Order got dragged out. He barely noticed Voldemort advancing.

"You will come quietly, or, if you keep resisting, in the most pain you will ever experience. It is up to you," he said, his eyes glaring into Harry's.

"My lord," said Snape softly, and Harry noticed, a little apprehensively, "if you grant me to speak freely."

"What is it?" Voldemort asked, lightly annoyed, and turned to face Snape.

"Will it not be best to let the boy stay here?"

An awkward silence fell upon them. Voldemort kept staring at Snape, considering him, with a slight disappointment in his eyes.

"And where does this sudden affection come from?" Voldemort hissed, after a few minutes of silence.

"Please, I do not care for the boy, my lord. I thought it would be best to let him stay here, so that he can be watched at all times."

"I will be more able to keep an eye on him if he were to be safely locked up, without friends and admirers."

"Of course, my lord," said Snape, giving the same dignified nod he'd given before. "You know best, after all. This thought merely crossed my mind, since you've confided me into your busy plans, and well, it would be a waste of time if you were to keep an eye on the boy at all times as well.

"The boy is cunning enough to try and find the members of the Order, while in imprisonment, maybe conspire in secret, in your absence. If he were to remain here, I can keep an eye on him for you, make sure that he stays in line."

With narrowed eyes, Voldemort kept glaring at Snape. His eyes bore into his, and Snape didn't blink or look away. They watched each other what for seemed ages, and then finally –

"Very well, Severus. You've made your point. The boy can stay here, for the time being, while I shall attend to more important cases," Voldemort said softly, and turned his gaze to Harry.

"However, I want you to report his every move and every conversation. I want you to be sure he'll stay unharmed. You are free to punish him, of course, if he does step out of line, but he must not be harmed too severely."

"Naturally, my lord," Snape said, looking from Voldemort to Harry.

"And Harry, I shall know if you conspire with your friends. I shall know when you misbehave. And I shall come for you myself when you do, and your little bargain will be off," added Voldemort, now directly to Harry, in a soft, dangerous voice. "Do you understand?"

"Yes," said Harry quietly. He tried to keep his mind as blank as he could manage. If he didn't mess it up now, just kept his tongue and obeyed, he wouldn't have to pine away in some lone cell.

"You will meet with me when I deem it necessary."

Harry nodded. What choice did he have anyway?

"And you will thank me for my generosity, won't you?"

Harry hesitated for a moment, but decided to give in. "Thank you."

"Severus, show him his new quarters. He is not allowed to stay with the others."

"Yes, my lord," said Snape, and nodded for the third time. Voldemort turned around and strode towards the door. Without another words, he vanished, leaving Harry and Snape alone in the handsome, dim-lit chamber.

Note:

I warned that Harry and Voldemort will get out of character (as we know them from the books). I kind of like to play with the pair, and test multiple directions. I'm sorry if it gets a little bothersome. As I am already past my original idea (Voldemort taking Harry instead of trying to kill him at the Ministry), I'm kind of making them up along as I go...