They were celebrating in the tent when they heard the yelling.
“Sounds like the Irish got their pride on.” George stated
“Stop!” Mr. Weasley demanded. “It’s not the Irish. We have to go now.”
The group ran out of the tent to waves of people running past them. Screaming covered the crowd. Harry could see the glowing of fire, a flash of people in masks and black cloaks. There were people floating above the crowds
“Fred, George, Ginny is your responsibility.” Mr. Weasley roared over the screaming.
Fred, George and Ginny followed the flow of people as Mr. Weasley ran in the opposite direction.
“Come on, Harry.” Hermione urged as she pulled his shoulder to follow.
Harry began to jog, keeping up with Ron and Hermione. He was being jostled from behind as more people joined the group, sprinting away from the people in masks. A tent a few feet in front of Harry exploded in fire. The screams of terror crescendoed around Harry as he slammed into the back of the wizard who stopped in front of him. Harry crashed to the ground in a tangle of limbs. He could only see the sea of scrambling feet and was unable to stand up. A foot stomped down on Harry’s left arm, causing pain to launch through it. Harry covered his head with his right arm, unable to bring his left arm to him. He had to get up or he would be trampled to death.
When the storm of people seemed to thin out, Harry pushed himself up to a standing position. His arm dangled at his side, it was most likely broken. He turned to see that the people in masks were getting closer to him. He took note of the long black cloaks, pointed hoods and skull like masks as he turned to run. He jumped over tent stakes, lungs burning as hard as the fires he passed.
“Potter, you need to listen to me.” The same voice said, waking Harry up.
“Who are you?”
“It does not matter. You need to trust me.”
“How can I trust you if I don’t know who you are?”
“I am the only one who will be able to get you out of here.”
“Where am I?”
“The death eaters captured you. They have the information that they need. They
will not be asking questions. They are out to kill you.”
“And how are you going to get me out of here?”
“If I can get you back into this dungeon, I can get you out of here.”
“And why should I trust you to outsmart the death eaters?”
“I have been outsmarting them for decades.” The voice spat.
“And yet you are here.”
“By choice. I have a role to play and so do you. You need to stay strong. They will unleash unimaginable torture on you. Focus on getting back here and you will be safe.”
“Why should I trust you?”
“You have no choice but to trust me.” The voice cut through the person.
Warmth spread over him once again, darkness cloaking his consciousness once again
Harry heard and felt a tent next to him explode into flames. Searing pain roared over Harry’s back as he was thrown into the air. He crashed hard on the ground, left arm crumpling under him. His glasses flew off his face, landing a few feet from him. Crawling, Harry pulled his wand out of his pocket. He was going to fight back if it came down to it, despite being hurt. A blurry outline of a boot appeared in his vision accompanied by the familiar sound of his glasses being squashed underfoot. Pain erupted through his body as another foot stomped down on his left shoulder. His vision darkened as his hearing dimmed, all he could hear was the sound of his own screaming.
The figure in front of him crouched down. Harry looked up. Dark eyes seemed sunken in contrast to the off white, bone mask. The unearthly black hood made the skull seem like it was floating. The masked wizard grabbed a fist full of Harry’s hair and wrenched back. Harry’s neck bent backwards to an uncomfortable degree. Harry saw a streak of pale blonde hair peeking out from under the black hood. He recognized the slow, deliberate way the dark wizard move Harry’s hair to reveal his scar
“Malfoy.” Harry spat
The masked wizard cocked its head to the side, studying the younger wizard. The foot on Harry’s shoulder pressed down harder, causing his vision to become pinpoints.
“It’s him. Let’s go.” A cold voice announced as Harry lost consciousness.
Harry woke up howling in pain. His scar felt like it was about to split wide open. Letting his head fall, he took a deep breath to quell the rising nausea. The floor was a black tile, scratches giving the tile a weather character filled look. Harry had his feet firmly on the floor as if he was standing, but his body was curved to the left. His shoulder and arm screamed in pain. He picked his head up slowly, looking up. The stone ceiling was high, well over 30 feet. Harry’s arms were spread above him, a rope attached to each wrist. Harry couldn’t see where the ropes attached, but he knew that they were the only things keeping him up. There was a large slash along his forearm, blood streaming down towards his elbow.
Harry worked to straighten himself despite his body screaming out in protest. He could feel the skin on his back crack as he moved slowly, pain throbbing into his toes. Then came the smell of burned flesh and smoldering cloth. The smell itself was enough to make him retch, but Harry took some breaths through his mouth. Trying to ignore the smell, Harry began to inventory his surroundings more.
The inky night sky could be seen through the sophisticated rectangular windows. The wood and stone room would have been cold had it not been for the warmth emanating from the large fireplace. The stone fireplace cast shadows that danced through the dimly lit room. Those same shadows illuminated the sizeable group of people that stood a distance away from Harry, surrounding him. There was one man who stood in the middle of the group.
The man was tall, his cloak seemed to billow around him mystically. His skin seemed transparent. His web like veins were visible even at the 15 foot distance he stood from Harry. The man was bald, face was flat. Where his nose should have been, there were two slits. His red beady eyes seemed to glow harshly in the room. He seemed to be addressing the group of, what Harry assumed were, his followers.
“Voldemort.” Harry gasped before spitting blood onto the floor.
“Ah, Harry. I had almost forgotten you were here.” Voldemort stated. “How nice of you to finally join us.”
“But, how are you...I thought you needed another person to survive?”
“Well as it turns out, fear can be a powerful motivator for even the most cowardly of followers” Voldemort sneered, gliding closer to Harry.
Harry could see Wormtail standing among the group, as well as the man that Harry had been seeing in his dreams. The blonde hair of Lucius Malfoy stood out among the darkness of the room.
“It also turns out that you have some very powerful blood. When dear sweet Lily Potter gave her life for her only son, she provided the ultimate protection. I could not touch him. It was old magic, something I should have foreseen. But no matter, things have changed. I can touch you now.”
Voldemort had been within arms reach of Harry. Reaching out, he had jammed his finger into Harry’s scar. Harry screamed out in pain, body writhing against the restraints. The group began to howl with laughter, jeering as Harry’s pain grew in intensity. Voldemort withdrew his hand after a few minutes, creeping behind Harry as the boy’s body sagged against the ropes.
“The only question left is...what to do with you?” Voldemort wondered out loud.
“What, you don’t want to kill me?” Harry questioned
“There is no doubt, Harry. I will kill you. But it would be too easy to kill you now. I want you to die with a wand in your hand.”
“So give me my wand and I will destroy you again.” Harry challenged.
“Tsk, Tsk, Harry. I know that Dumbledore has taught you better manners than that. Crucio!”
Harry’s body felt like it had been struck by a live wire. His body jerked as unknowable pain danced across his muscles. He refused to cry out in any more pain. He would not give Voldemort the satisfaction. The pain was withdrawn as quick as Voldemort had cast the spell. Harry panted, taking deep breaths through his nose. He had never heard of the incantation crucio, but Harry was very sure that it was illegal. The pain made Harry nauseous.
“Come now, Harry. It isn’t much fun if you don’t play your part.”
“Go to hell, Voldemort.” Harry stated forcefully between breaths.
Harry felt the electricity hit his body again. Through the fog of pain, Harry wasn’t sure how long he would be able to keep this act up. The pain was nothing he would ever be able to describe or imagine. Past painful experiences with the Dursley’s flicked through his mind and he knew deep down that this was the worst pain he would ever experience.
“You have a lot of ruined lives, Harry.” Voldemort stated as he removed the curse. “So why should I enjoy all this fun. There are so many people who would like to thank you for how you impacted their lives.”
One by one, Death eaters lined up in front of Harry. Each one of them having some variation of their own form of torture. Most decided that the Cruciatus incantation was acceptable. Others decided to give a few quick flicks of their wands, causing a slicing pain that Harry could only equate to being cut with a knife. He felt hot liquid streaming down his body knowing deep down that he was bleeding.
Harry had lost count somewhere around sixteen death eaters. He had no idea how many of them actually existed. As they continued their assault on him, his pain grew unbearable. His jaw hurt from clenching. His lungs burned for air. He was wishing that death or unconsciousness would come quick. He didn’t know how much more he was going to be able to take. While there were slight differences in the severity of pain, it still all hurt. Past and present seemed to blend itself. Harry thought for sure he was going to go mad.
Trust me. The voice had stated. I’ve been outsmarting them for decades.
Harry could hear the voice ringing through his head. What else had the voice said.
You need to stay strong. Focus on getting back here.
There was a pause, there was no one in front of him. He was able to catch his breath, feel his body scream in agony due to the torture he was undergoing. He could see the darkness waiting on the edges of his vision. He had yet to actually scream out in pain. It took everything in his power to keep that up. His body was weak, slumped against the restraint. He could feel the loss of blood taking its toll on his mind.
“What about you, Severus?” Voldemort hissed in the silence.
Snape approached the center of the group, standing in front of the boy.
“Snape.” Harry wheezed.
“Thank you my lord.” Severus addressed Voldemort.
“This boy and his father has caused you almost as much pain as they have caused me. It is only right that you should get your revenge.” Voldemort offered.
“You are correct, my lord.”
“Snape...Please.” Harry moaned, looking up at him through the blood and sweat in his eyes. “Please kill me.”
“It is not yet time for you to die.” Voldemort snapped.
Snape removed his wand from his robes, glaring maciously at the trapped boy.
“Crucio.” The deep baritone voice commanded.
Harry’s body violently jerked, the pain the worst that he had felt yet. He could feel muscle start to tear itself from his bones. He felt a hot heat begin to burn in his stomach. A roar of pain tore itself from Harry’s throat. He could hear Voldermort cackle with enjoyment. Snape flicked his wand again, removing the spell almost as fast as he cast it.
"That was hasty, Severus." Voldemort commented as Harry's body slumped once again. He was so weak, that he was unable to pick his head up. He could imagine the sneer of hate on Snape's face.
"The boy has endured much torture. He should be of sound mind when he meets his death." Snape retorted.
While Snape was addressing Voldemort, Harry felt the same wave of warmth that he had felt in the dungeon. Was the owner of the mysterious voice nearby? He felt his pain subside momentarily, still lingering but not as powerful.
"That is very considerate of you. The time for his end awaits."
Snape melted back into the crowd as Voldemort snapped his wand. Harry's body crumpled in a heap as the ropes holding him up vanished. Breathing heavily, Harry peeked his eyes upward. His wand clattered on the ground in front of him.
“Now come on Harry. You have to have more fight in you than this. Your skills are legendary after all.” Voldemort jeered.
You have no choice but to trust me.
Harry slowly pushed himself onto his knees, looking up at the wizard. He could feel the heat in his stomach spread through his body. He could feel the sweat pouring down his face. He thought he could smell something burning. He was sure that smoke was rising off of him.
“How strong are you, Tom, that you can’t fight me without having your followers torture me first?” Harry countered, reaching out for his wand.
Harry saw malevolence flood Voldemort’s blood red eyes.
“Crucio!” Voldemort yelled.
Harry knew it was coming and he readied himself for the pain. The curse had overtaken the wave of warmth he had been feeling. Pain racked his body once again, yet he would not move. He would not convulse in pain any more, would not lay on the floor in pain. He had to stand up to Voldemort.
“Stupid boy. Stop fighting it. You will only make him mad.” The mysterious voice appeared in his mind.
“I’m not going to let him keep doing this to me. I have to fight him.” Harry thought through the haze of pain in his mind.
“You’re going to get hurt.”
“I already am. Unless he kills me, there is not much more he can do.”
“Do not speak that of which you do not know.”
“I'm not going to give him the satisfaction”
Harry felt his body start to burn from the inside out. His mind started to go blank and darkness began advancing on his vision. The internal pain felt like he was standing in the middle of a fire. Its intensity grew exponentially with every second the crucio incantation was held. As Harry began to black out from pain, a stunning blue light cut through the black. The light seemed to be coming from somewhere behind Harry. It was so bright that it illuminated the dark mansion room. He could hear Death Eaters murmuring in concern. Harry bowed his head, looking through the hole between his body and arm. There was no source of light behind him. The light seemed to be coming from him. The pain in his body reached a crescendo. The blue light exploded forcefully from his body, changing to a deep auburn color. The death eaters shrieked in fear. Harry could hear a concussive blow as his body collapsed to the floor, darkness taking over his vision as the color dissipated.