He woke surrounded by complete darkness. Petrified, he tried to quell his rising panic. His mind was racing with questions as he fought to quickly regain his bearings.

The last thing he knew was that he had been weeding  the Dursleys’ flower beds during the still stifling hot evening hours. But his brain felt so fuzzy at the moment and he could hardly concentrate due to the dull throbbing that radiated from his spine up to his temples.

Even though a fight seemed likely to him, he could not imagine that the Death Eaters would put him to bed on a butter-soft mattress with fluffy pillows and a cosy blanket . That would have been more along the lines of a damp, rat-infested dungeon cell.

But when anything had happened during his stay at the Dursley’s home, they would have brought him to St. Mungo’s, Hogwarts or even to Grimauld place. St. Mungo’s was out of question because by now he would have been smothered by a swarm of medi-wizards and nurses. Hogwards also seemed not to be possible. Neither his dormitory in Gryffindor nor the hospital wing could ever get this dark. In Grimauld place, such complete darkness was could be achieved but there was always this distinct smell of dust, mould and – oddly – cheese in the air. So, when he was not somewhere where his friends would take him to, then...  

Before he could even act on impulse, Moody’s – paranoid but nonetheless invalueable - lessons kicked in. Before summer, he had taught him how to behave in unknown situations and even though he was hard pressed to exert patience under these circumstances, he decided to proceed just as he had been trained to do.

He could almost hear Moody’s voice reciting his endless stream of rules over and over again. So far, he had not moved yet. Should they really have cast monitoring charms on him, then the slightest movement would send them running to him in a matter of seconds. Lying perfectly still, he let his eyes wander. His search of the room proved to be as absolutely fruitless as before. In the pitch blackness of the room, his eyes could make out neither threats nor his wand or any weapons. Nothing at all.

He had to fight the bile rising in his throat as a fresh wave of panic hit him. His wand. Without it, he would be practically defenceless. Sure, as a muggle-raised he knew how to throw a punch if needed but what good would that do him against fully grown wizards WITH wands or – heaven forbid – against Voldemort. Unbidden, another Moody rule popped up in his head.

That was a real bummer, because one of his greatest strengths had always been that he was really good at defence – but therefore his wand was needed. So what about his weaknesses? He almost had to laugh at the irony of that thought. Under these circumstances, he could hardly become any more helpless: In unknown territory, without a clue where his wand was and not the slightest idea who had placed him on the bed or could be lurking outside of this room. To top it off, the pounding in his temples grew steadily to a fully fledged killer of a headache.

There was no way around it, he would have to move to get any information even if there was a chance that it would alert his captors.

He was almost certain that he would find the door locked. That would be the most logical thing to do. But he thought that would have a fair chance of escape when he crouched next to the door to catch the next person that came in by surprise, knock him out, snatch his wand and make a run for it. Not the best of plans, but with a little bit of luck he would be able to make it out of here. Mentally, he set his countdown. He had to be ready when somebody came in.

Muscles coiled to propel him into action he flung his covers aside and leaped out of bed. Or at least – he tried. The bed was surrounded by a cushioning charm that prevented him from even setting a foot on the ground. He sat in stunned silence.

Trapped on the bed – with only a blanket and pillows as weapons – he saw a sudden ray of light shining under the door on the far right side of the room. The next he could make out were faint footsteps growing louder until they came to a sudden stop. The light under the door was somewhat blocked by a pair of shoes.

He heard a murmured incantation.  The door swung open to reveal a dark silhouette against the overly bright illumination of the hallway. Squinting against the sudden flash of brightness, he could hardly belief his eyes.