“Be quiet and listen carefully” A voice sliced through the darkness, making Harry’s head pound with pain.
Harry couldn’t see, was something covering his eyes? Was he in a dark room? He could feel the cold hard floor beneath him. His body felt like he was on fire. He felt dizzy and weak. Was he sick? Was this a fever dream? No, he could remember the Quidditch World Cup. Where were the Weasley’s?
Harry started to move, panic coursing through his body. He needed to make sure that his friends were okay. Pain racked his body. His left shoulder hurt, actually his whole left arm hurt. Harry moaned out in pain.
“Stop moving and listen.” The voice spat. It was not a voice that Harry recognized.
“Who are you?” Harry mumbled, cataloging the metallic taste of blood in his mouth.
“It does not matter. Answer me, boy. Are you ready to listen?”
“Where am I? Why can’t I see?”
“You must do everything that they say. Everything they ask, you need to answer right away. It is the only way you will survive this. Do you understand what I am telling you? You are messing with dangerous people who would have no greater pleasure than to make your death a long and torture filled one. If you do what they say, they may let you have a quick and painless death.”
“Where am I? Who’s dangerous?”
Harry felt warmth start in his stomach and spread through his body. It was comforting, what he thought being tucked into bed by a parent felt like. He thought he heard a door swing shut as pain left his body. He was unconscious within seconds.
Snape let the hard wood door shut behind him. Waving his wand in front of him, he cleared his throat. It sent chills down his spine to hear his muggle father’s voice come out of his body. The only comfort was knowing that it was the magic that caused that change. He stowed his wand as he silently walked up the staircase to the main house. He paused on the top stair, took a deep breath, and continued into the house. There were sounds of joyous laughter mingled with agonized screams.
Turning away from the noise, Snape stalked toward another staircase. His footsteps echoed as he moved up a marble staircase. HIs mind cleared with each step as his face hardened. The advice that he gave to Harry was honest. They were both dealing with dangerous people. Every single person would be glad to kill them. Killing was a sport for the death eaters. He was sure that the muggle he heard screaming would have a slow death. Now, it may have been unethical for Snape to lie by saying that there was a possibility that Harry would survive this on his own. Snape would give him a slim chance to survive. In the end, they both could end up dead.
Snape’s cloak snapped around the corner as he made a sharp right. He strode to the fourth door on the left and rapped on the door. He opened it when he heard nothing behind it. A group of four people, one woman and three men were sitting in high back chairs around an unlit fireplace. They all turned to Snape.
“He’s ready. It is time for the Dark Lord to rise.”