Several minutes later, Harry heard the clunking of boots. The noise stopped near him and someone nudged him in the ribs with their foot.

“Get up, Potter,” said a man.

Harry stayed still, knowing that there was no way he could get up.

“I said, get up!” this time, the Death Eater kicked him in the ribs, causing Harry to gasp in pain. The Death Eater then dragged him up by the back of his t-shirt. Harry winced at the pressure on his ribs. When he was fully upright, the Death Eater grabbed his upper arm in a grip so tight it was sure to leave bruises and pulled him along.

“Lord Voldemort does not like to be kept waiting,” said the Death Eater.

Harry was taken out of the room and down a long corridor, then into another room. The room was full of Death Eaters, who were situated in a circle around a chair that looked more like a throne. Sitting in the chair was none other than Voldemort.

Their eyes locked for a second, and Harry felt the presence of someone in his mind. No! He wrenched his gaze away from Voldemort.

“You think that you can protect your mind from me?” asked Voldemort. “You are not safe from me, not even when you think you're safe asleep in bed.”

Harry rolled his eyes. Those strange dreams he'd been having were just that. They were merely his mind's way of fucking with him.

“Are you so sure, Harry?” asked Voldemort.”

“Fuck off,” hissed Harry without thinking.

“You need to learn to respect your elders, Harry. Or else you'll never see your precious puppy again,” said Voldemort.

Precious puppy?Then it hit him. Voldemort had captured him not to torture him just physically, but mentally as well. He was going to bring Sirius back and kill him in front of Harry.

“No,” he whispered.

“Oh yes, Harry, though it won't be me getting the worthless mutt, it will be you.”

“I won't do it,” said Harry. He wouldn't let them do that to Sirius. He wrenched his arm away from the Death Eater and sprinted for the door.

Not even halfway there, several Death Eaters tackled him. He fought not to scream as his bruised ribs were jarred. They got off him and dragged him to his feet. Harry stared defiantly at Voldemort, now flanked by two Death Eaters.

“Yes, you still need to be taught submission. Lucius… Bella… Severus. You three go teach him submission. Remember not to hurt him too much; he still has to perform the ritual,” said Voldmort.

Harry was dragged from the room, thoughts running wildly through his mind. Voldemort didn't seem to know the prophecy, but then again, he didn't seem too concerned with killing him, only torturing him. There was going to be a ritual… one he'd be forced to participate in… What the hell was going on here?

“Move, Potter,” growled Snape.

“Severus, really,” said Lucius and suddenly, Harry felt a shove at his back. He grunted as he hit the floor and rolled to a stop. He had mere seconds to recover before a Blasting Cure slammed him into the wall, blinding him momentarily. The attack didn't stop there.

“Flamarae,” hissed Bellatrix. All was silent except for footsteps and when Harry could focus his eyes again, he saw Bellatrix kneeling beside him. He flinched when he saw that Bellatrix's wand had a flame at the tip of it.

Cold prickles ran up his spine as the hot wand was brought against the bare skin of his arm. He hissed in pain as he was forced to watch Bellatrix burn the Dark Mark into his forearm. Bellatrix's face was filled with glee when she finished.

Harry closed his eyes, fighting the urge to scream in pain. The burn felt as though it had gone all the way to the bone.

“Beautiful work, Bella,” commented Lucius.

Their cruel treatment didn't end there, instead, they moved on to curses and some of the more painful hexes. Harry lost track of the time that passed, having given up on being rescued. The only person who could have saved him was dead, and the other—well, if this was any indicator, he was as good as dead.

“Potter,” he heard, somewhere near his left ear. Snape. Was he finally going to finish him off, the way he had Dumbledore?

“Potter.” Snape's voice was louder now, and more insistent. He continued to ignore Snape, that is, until he felt Snape slap him.

“Ow,” he moaned.

“Be quiet and listen to me, Potter,” said Snape. “I can't get you out of here, but I have alerted several Order members as to the events about to take place. In the meantime, you're going to have to hang on and keep your damned mind clear. Is it possible for you to actually listen to me for once?”

“Yes,” he hissed, wincing at the pressure in his chest.

“I will return,” said Snape. Harry closed his eyes and lay back, waiting. All he could do was wait.

Harry lost track of time as he lay in the darkness. He remained as still as possible; any movement would cause him pain.

~*~*~

Harry started as a foot connected with his aching ribs. He opened his eyes when he felt the foot kick him again.

“Up, Potter,” said an unfamiliar man.

Harry lay still until he was forced to his feet by magic.

“Come, the Dark Lord is ready for you,” said another Death Eater, moving to guard him from behind.

~*~*~

“And here is the guest of honor, my faithful,” said Voldemort as Harry and his Death Eater guards entered the chamber. “Everything is in place for the ritual. All that remains is to go there and retrieve the puppy. The Portkey, now, Wormtail!”

The circle of Death Eaters surged forward as one and all somehow managed to get a finger on the Portkey. Harry was forced to touch it by one of his guards.

~*~*~

He landed, surrounded by Death Eaters in a hallway he had only visited twice in his life and had hoped to never see again.