They landed hard. Vernon pushed Harry to the ground, where he landed on his side. He rolled over on to his back, shock and disbelief on his features. What was going on?

A sharp pain shot through his scar, making Harry lift his hand to his head. Dread was a heavy weight in his stomach as Harry looked up. Vernon stood over, him staring at something behind Harry. Turning fast enough to cause a crick in his neck, Harry saw that his uncle had been watching.

How he had not noticed them immediately, Harry did not know. Surrounded by Death Eaters, and looking quite pleased with himself, was Voldemort.

“Voldemort!” Harry gasped out as he saw the red eyes resting on him. He suddenly realized how much danger he was in. That--the threat of imminent death--made him gasp more than surprise.

Harry reached for his wand, which was in his back pocket, just to grasp air. Looking at Vernon, Harry saw his wand held in both of the man’s chubby hands. All this happened , so quickly it was almost dizzying as Harry frantically tried to force himself to think clearly.

Voldemort laughed softly and walked forward as Harry scrambled to his feet. His eyes wide. Harry was feeling more useless and vulnerable then ever. The pain in his head was almost blinding. He could feel Voldemort’s glee at capturing him and it made him sick.

“How nice of you to join us, Harry. And look, you brought your uncle--” Voldemort eyes narrowed shortly and he flicked his wand. The Invisibility Cloak flew off the younger Malfoy, whom Harry had forgotten about. Malfoy gasped slightly as the cloak slid of him and into Voldemort thin hand. “--and Mr. Malfoy as well. What a pleasant surprise.”

Harry dared to glance quickly at Malfoy to see his reaction to al this. The blond was pale and terrified as he stood beside Harry.

“Accio Draco Malfoy’s wand,” Voldemort intoned. With a startled jump from the younger Malfoy, his wand flew from his pocket and into Voldemort’s hand.

Harry’s mind was reeling with questions and accusations. Did Malfoy set me up? Why did Vernon do what he did? Is Malfoy responsible for Vernon’s behavior? Harry wondered wildly.

One Death Eater stepped out of the ranks. Harry saw the strands a pale hair escaping the hood on the dark robes. “I did not give you permission to come forward, Lucius. Step back,” Voldemort said coldly.

The elder Malfoy paused and then stepped back with obvious reluctance. “Forgive me, my lord,” he murmured.

Voldemort nodded slowly his eyes calculating. “You are not to come near your son .”

Lucius’s shoulders stiffened but he bowed his head in submission. The masks hid his and all the other Death Eaters’ faces from Harry, who wished he knew who was who. He could see and feel the Death Eater’s eyes on him as he stood there, watching warily. The only defense he had was physical, and against armed wizards who were probably physically stronger, anyway, he wouldn’t stand a chance.

“I’m afraid you have worn out your usefulness, Muggle,” Voldemort said to Vernon. Harry’s uncle never stood a chance. Harry glanced to see the same glassy look in his uncle’s eyes right before Voldemort fired Avada Kevadra at him.

Vernon fell down in front of Harry a second after the green light hit him square in the chest. Gasping in horror and shock, Harry stumbled back as the blue, dead eyes of his uncle stared straight ahead.

Arms pulled and pushed Harry down at Voldemort’s feet.

Breathing heavily, Harry stood, shivering slightly as he glared hatefully at the man who had caused so much pain. The green-eyed boy never met his eyes; although he wanted to show that he was not scared.

That was a lie, though, and Voldemort was skilled in Legilimency. He could not look the man in the eyes; Harry did not trust his mental defenses enough. Then Voldemort would know how terrified he was and use it to mock him.

Voldemort looked at him with interested eyes before turning to Mal--Draco. Harry could not see him as just Malfoy anymore. He looked nothing like his outwardly calm, collected father now.

It did not mean he had changed though. Harry had heard the whimpering sound Draco had made when Vernon collapsed. He may have hated Muggles, but he seemed taken aback by seeing one die. It struck Harry again, just as if it had struck him in the graveyard with Cedric. Human lives were fragile.

The thoughts in Harry’s head, which had seemed to slow down for him, suddenly sped up as someone grabbed him. The same person shoved him to his knees and tied his hands behind his back. Harry struggled against the hands that held him down and suddenly a wand was against his temple.

The pain was worse then what Harry remembered. His very bones were twisting. Harry dropped to the ground against his will. He could not hold himself up in the world of pain that encompassed him.

His scar was burning; his bones were on fire. Everything was ending. He could not handle anymore. Surely, this was the end. What was the use of living if he had to suffer? Moaning on the ground, his back arching of the ground and his face the perfect picture of pain. He wanted to black out so bad he was willing to beat his head against the ground.

Then it stopped and the world no longer revolved around the immense pain. Harry found himself lying on his side. He breathed in the smell of earth greedily, panting from the curse that had held him for who knew how long.

Death Eaters laughed. Their laughter ranging from loud and boisterous to soft with malice. Harry pushed himself up of the ground and onto weak legs that trembled and threatened to collapse underneath him.

Voldemort was staring at the Death Eater that had cursed Harry. “Why do you insist on learning the hard way, Aidan?” Aidan stiffened just before the Cruciatus curse hit him. Immediately he was on the ground and shaking, but not shaking with pain but laughter. Behind the Death Eater mask, the man was laughing and Harry stared at him in incomprehension.

Voldemort gave the man a look of disgust before lifting the curse and leaving his panting follower to turn away. “Tie Potter up. He likes to try and escape,” Voldemort said with faint amusement.

Someone spoke, “Incarcerous.” Ropes wrapped around his arms all the way now, rather than half way like they had been before Harry had started struggling. His arms could not move now, and Harry glared at Voldemort without speaking.

Two Death Eaters had a hold on his shoulders. Together they pushed him down to his knees as Voldemort looked at Draco.

“I was not aware not aware that you were coming, Draco. Your father never told me. Can you tell me why he did not inform me of your visit?” Voldemort’s voice was silky but dangerous. It seemed casual. Harry knew that Voldemort would wait for the younger Malfoy to lower his shields, then he would attack.

Draco was shaking slightly and he glanced toward the Death Eaters. Harry knew he was looking for his father.

“I--I did not know--” Draco took a deep breath and stared at the ground. Harry watched as the grey eyes got a bit wider and Draco fell to his knees before he gave his explanation.

“I was dragged along when Potter was brought here by the portkey because Dumbledore put me and him in a--a bond,” Draco managed to say.

Voldemort stood staring at Draco with a cold, annoyed expression on his face. “What does this bond do?” Voldemort snapped and turned to stare at Harry now who glared back.

Draco took another deep breath and looked a bit hesitant. Harry realized that he was probably wondering if the bond would hurt him for speaking of it with a man that would try to use it against them.

“Now,” Voldemort hissed impatiently and Draco swallowed before nodding and speaking.

“We can’t be more then--um--ten or fifteen feet from each other, I can’t hurt Potter or tell anyone anything I learn about him if it’s to embarrass him or hurt him. It works the same for him,” Draco said. He seemed to be calming down a bit and trying to think if the intent expression on his face was anything to go by.

“What would happen if you hurt him?” Voldemort asked still watching Harry who’s glare did not lessen.

“Dumbledore said that the bond would hurt me and if I tried to kill him it--would kill me, my lord,” Draco said humbly. Harry looked away to stare at Malfoy.

“Severus,” Voldemort said with a slight hiss as he turned away from the two teens. One Death Eater separated from the others and bowed slightly.

Harry knew he had to act the part. He was supposed to hate Snape with a passion and even more now that he knew he was a ‘traitor.’ There was no way he could attack Snape, which would have been best, but he still had his mouth and his words.

Hissing loudly in surprise Harry looked at Snape with wide angry eyes from his place on the ground. Voldemort had turned to watch him amusedly and the other Death Eaters followed his example.

“You!” Harry growled in anger. Voldemort chuckled as Snape lifted his head and glared at Harry under the mask. “Traitor!” Harry yelled murderously as he struggled against the hands trying to throw himself at Snape.

He did not stop to see if his act was good enough to convince Voldemort. Just remembered all those times when Snape had made him furious or feel sick with loathing. “Dumbledore trusted you, you bastard! I knew it, you’re a bloody traitor!” Harry yells had some Death Eaters laughing as he pulled and yanked and twisted violently.

Voldemort shook his head with a smile that was like a slit in his face. “I have heard of the hatred between you and Potter, Severus, but I never knew you could make him this mad.”

Snape nodded and Harry could hear the smirk in his voice. “He’s very easy to rile, my lord.”

Harry was still spewing insults with conviction. Calling Snape names, screaming and struggling to an extent that had Draco staring at him, looking rather pale.

“Why did you not inform me of this bond?” Voldemort asked. Harry’s eyes widened. He had heard that tone before. It was the one Voldemort used right before he punished a servent who had displeased him.

“I found it irrelevant, my lord,” Snape said with his head bowed slightly. “Another one of Dumbledore’s foolish plans at interhouse unity. It was obvious it would fail. Potter and Malfoy hate each other.”

Voldemort seemed to accept the words and Harry tried not to show his relief. “While that may be, I want everything you learn that could be used in anyway to be delivered to me.” Before there was time for Snape to even nod, he was being held under the Cruciatus. The professor went to his knees but did not scream at first.

Voldemort watched him with a judging expression on his pale, thin face.

Then, Snape screamed. It was a short, angry sound mixed with pain and it made Harry flinch. After one quick moment, Snape was on his feet again. He did not even waver as he stood there, once again the obedient follower.

Voldemort nodded his approval. Harry had finally stopped his verbal abuse toward Snape and was now trying to catch his breath as he watched.

“Go back to to the old fool, Severus. I want a much information about this curse as possible,” Voldemort said softly. There was a frown on his face that showed he was wondering if he would get what he wanted.

If he did not get what he wanted…well, Harry certainly did not want to be around then.

Snape bowed low and then turned. For the first time Harry looked around.

They were in a hall, which, while not near as big as the one in Hogwarts, was still impressive. The walls were made of dark wood and candlesticks floated high in the air, providing light. Voldemort was staring at him with a satisfied and cruel look on his face.

With a slim hand, Voldemort gestured and Harry found himself being dragged toward the thing that was once a man. The two Death Eaters threw him down at Voldemort’s feet and with nothing to hold, him up Harry landed on his face.

Laughter, cold and delighting in his failure to stand, rang in his ears. Harry fought to sit up and it was Voldemort’s hand in his hair that pulled him to a kneeling position.

Pain in his scalp from the pulling fingers made Harry clench his fists rather then show it on his face. The sharp shooting pains in his scar added to his stress and anger.

Voldemort’s hands were not as cold as Harry thought they would have been.

There was still some human in Voldemort. Right now his fingers running over Harry’s face were room temperture. Only slightly warm, like a serpent.

It seemed Voldemort was serpent-like in more than just looks. His slanted nostrils breathed in the scent of Harry’s hair as he bent over the boy’s frozen form. Disgust overcame the fear Harry felt and he tried to pull away from his parents murdered.

Voldemort grabbed his hair again and Harry winced. “Now, behave Harry or I might have to hand you over to my followers earlier than I had planned.”

As his head bent a bit, Voldemort laughed softly. “I knew you would obey.”

Clenching his teeth, Harry held still as Voldemort once again ran his hands over his face and lifted his bangs. The scar would be inflamed, Harry knew. It had been hurting him throughout the time Harry had been near Voldemort.

One long-nailed finger ran over the scar slowly. Harry’s eyers rolled to the back of his head at the overwhelming pain and Voldemort’s hand in his hair was the only thing holding him up.

The Dark Lord chuckled. Then with a sigh--he drew back.

Harry immediately fell, much to the crowd’s enjoyment. It was an effort, but Harry slowly got into a kneeling position. It was a task with his arms tied as tightly as they were, but he managed to stand up.

Voldemort motioned for him to come nearer.

Harry stared back this time meeting Voldemort’s gaze and refusing to move. He felt that his Occlumency walls were strong at the moment. The hatred and other emotions he felt now were powering his mental capabilities.

The entertained and content expression on Voldemort’s face froze over. In addition, Harry heard the Death Eaters still as they saw their lord was unhappy.

Harry enjoyed that moment while it lasted. Then Voldemort gestured again, but this time it had Harry flying over to the lord’s side where he landed into the hard wood painfully.

A hiss passed through Harry’s gritted teeth and pursed lips. Voldemort laughed. “Next time maybe you will obey.”

“Go to hell, Tom,” Harry snarled and kicked out hitting the chair so that it creaked. Gasps and hisses from the Death Eaters had Harry grinning. “Don’t they know you’re old name, Tom?”

Voldemort stood slowly trying to be more intimidating towards Harry, who was still lying in an awkward position.

“Don’t call me by that name--”

“It’s a perfectly good name, a perfectly good Muggle name. A lot different from the one you made up, eh Voldie?” As Harry taunted he saw Draco’s wide eyes asking what the hell he was doing.

The shock of a slap had Harry’s head reeling back to hit the floor. Voldemort had slapped him. It had hurt. Ignoring the pain, Harry sat back up. He wanted to say something that would infuriate Voldemort. Make him angry and maybe he would make a mistake.

The Dark Lord drew his wand before Harry could, though. With a flick of the wand and a nonverbal spell, Harry was withering on the floor from Crucio. Then, just as that ended, Voldemort cast another spell.

Vines shot out of the ground. The floor busted under Harry as the dark green stems came out and wrapped around his body. They pulled him to the ground and Harry found the vines had thick thorns on over them. Thorns ripped into his skin and clothes, tearing them loudly. Harry could not help but scream as the thorns tore into his arms.

In the background Death Eaters were laughing and watching there entertainment provided by their lord.

Harry was breathing frantically. It was worse than in first year when they had fought with Devil’s Snare.

The snakelike tendrils had Harry pinned to ther ground and the more he struggled the worse he was hurt by the unknown plant. A tendril had wrapped around his neck and climbed sideways up his face.

Smaller thorns caused scratches that bled. Harry closed his eyes and stopped moving the best he could. Blood ran into his eyes but he ignore the temptation to open his eyes. The thorns could easily tear out his eyes.

The blood loss was causing Harry to feel faint. “Enough,” Voldemort spoke as if from a distance. The vines retreated but still scraped against Harry’s skin. Carefully, Harry got up.

His arms and legs were extremely shaky, but he managed to stand and wipe the blood from his face. It was quickly replaced with more blood, but Harry ignored it.

“You seem rather tame now, Harry. Have you learned your lesson?” Voldemort asked from where he came to stand in frint of the boy.

Harry spat on Voldemort’s face. It was more blood than spit but angered Voldemort just as much. With a snarl he spoke, “Crucio!”

He held his wand over Harry with an expression of fury. Harry screamed out as the pain from the unforgivable curse added to the pain from the thorns’ markings that covered his body.

For many minutes, Harry screamed in unbelievable pain. His throat was hoarse, his lips cracked and bleeding. Finally and mercifully, Harry blacked out.