Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me... sadly. If it did then I would have made Harry's love life a bit different.
Thanks to my wonderful betas. I'll go and hide now!
- .
Ch23: CRUCIO ON THE MEMORY
Don't cry from fear, you know that
I don't cry the rain, no not a tear, you know that
Before you leave
When you go
I think you oughta know
Don't cry for pain
(Ana Johnson - Don't Cry For Pain)
Next time he woke up he found himself in the same cell as before. The pain made it hard to breathe and he could not move his swollen hand so he no choice but to lay still. All of his muscles were sore stiff and his throat was dry too. All in all he felt like a herd of hippogriffs had run over him and another dozen blast ended Skrewts had stung him.
He tried to remember how he had gotten in that situation, but his mind was curiously fogged and made it difficult to focus. What had happened to him?
He suddenly became aware of that he was not alone in the room and he had to suppress the urge to hide in the corner. He raised his head slowly and tried to rise, but immediately he felt sick and coughed up blood. He sat up with a grunt, something that alerted the other dark clothed wizard in the room. Harry looked up into the dark eyes and recognized them as Snape's and instantly he felt a wave of relief through him.
"Professor," he croaked, but his voice was barely above a whisper. "Professor..." he tried again, but it did not sound much better.
"Yes, Potter, it is me and we are alone... for now. I apologize, but I can not get you out of here."
"Why?" pleaded Harry, rocking a little back and forth, nursing his bad hand. "Please..."
The professor sighed, a hint of sadness in his eyes that Harry had never seen before. "I would if I could, you got to believe that. However, there is an anti-apparition and portkey spell over this place, nor do I know exactly where `here' is. I got here by my mark. Here, take this... it is a pain killer and a pepper up potion. It will help you a little."
Harry nodded slowly and took the to vials of potion that were handed to him through the jars and downed them quickly with shaking hands. It helped his thirsty throat a bit too, he realized as the liquid went down. Soon he felt the pain in his body dim to a more tolerable level. His voice sounded slightly better. "Thank you, professor."
"I do what I can, Potter."
"What happened after they broke my fingers?" Harry was afraid to hear the answer.
"They Cruciated you, Potter. Four of them at the same time for several minutes until you stopped responding. I am quite surprised you remember anything from this place."
Harry nodded and rested his chin on his knees, not able to say anything. He only felt a little comfort by having Snape there.
"I'm sorry," he finally said and Snape looked at him with a curious expression. "For revealing the Prophecy. I honestly didn't mean to, it just... I didn't know, I couldn't stop it... you know, I haven't even told Ron about it. I didn't know if I could and I was afraid, I suppose. I didn't want him to look at me any differently and I wanted to have a normal friendship. That's all I ever wanted... to be normal, with a normal family and a normal home and normal friends. I know you don't believe me, but I never wanted to be the bloody Boy Who Lived."
Snape looked annoyed. "Why are you telling me this?"
"I want you to tell them all that I am sorry for how things turned out. I need you to tell them that I don't blame them and that it's my fault; that they must continue fighting and not give up hoping. Tell the Weasleys that I'm very grateful for what they did to me, allowing me into their family and all. And you must tell Hermione that I'm sorry for whatever I did to her that was wrong."
"Anything else?" asked Snape, sounding surprisingly patient and Harry couldn't help but smile a little at the irony.
"Yes, I need you to tell her to take care of Hedwig and Akin."
"Akin?"
"Yeah, it's my snake."
"You have a snake?"
Harry nodded and they had a few more moments in silence.
"I will take care of it, Potter," said Snape, gazing at him with black eyes. "However, I need to tell them you are awake now, we can not avoid it any further."
"Do you have to?" asked Harry instantly, even though he knew it was no use. He felt his stomach twist painfully with dread.
"Yes, or the Dark Lord will know and have me killed. I will try to figure a way out for you. Be strong."
Harry sighed and wished he had a time turner so he could avoid the reality for a little longer. He didn't know how much more he could take.
The door to the room Harry's cage was in opened again almost instantly and he closed his eyes. He could hear steps closing in on him and he could hear someone opening the door to his cage. Suddenly someone grabbed his hand - the bad one - and pulled him out of the cage. Harry whimpered in pain.
"Get up," a cool voice said to him after he had been pushed roughly to the floor. Harry did as he was told - not wanting to lay down anyway - and saw that his `bringer' had been Lucius Malfoy. Harry could not remember the Prophet saying anything about Lucius being rescued, but the part of him that was not terrified was pleased to see that the Malfoy did not look in top shape. Voldemort was in the room too, looking very pleased with himself.
"Changed your mind yet, boy?"
Harry pulled up what was left of his mental defenses. "No. I stand by my decision."
"Well, then. Lucius, grab his healthy hand."
Harry's eyes widened. "Please no..."
"Incarcero," said Voldemort mercilessly while Lucius grabbed Harry's left hand. Instantly Harry's body got wrapped in ropes so tight that he could hardly breathe. Somehow, he remembered himself practicing that spell, and he had thought that `Voldemort wouldn't have any problem conjuring some stupid ropes around a chair!' How right he had been. He could never reach Voldemort's magic level, much less defeat him.
His attention was returned to the present when Voldemort snapped his fingers and a dark clothed man appeared by the crimson eyed man's side. Severus Snape.
"Hold him down, Severus."
Snape nodded curtly and pinned Harry down to the ground. Harry's eyes widened even more when he felt the weight of the Potion's master straddled across his chest and he felt as though the ropes were all that separated them. That thought made him panic even more. Harry wanted nothing more than to ask for mercy, but the dark look from the person on his chest told him to stay quiet.
In the mean time Lucius had summoned a stone and immobilized Harry's hand so he had to keep his fingers outstretched. He began to understand what they were about to do, but there was nothing he could do to stop them as they raised the large stone high up in the air before slamming it down to Harry's right hand with full force.
The pain was unbearable and Harry screamed until he did not have any voice left. It felt as though someone had wrapped a burning plate of metal around his hand and pulled out all of his entrails in the process. Unfortunately they were not finished and while they were at it they crushed Harry's knee as well, making Harry pass out.
When Harry came around again he only got a few seconds to blink before a red Crucio hit him, and though the ropes were gone the potion master was still on top of him.
Two minutes after that he was shaking on the ground, coughing up more blood then before as he had bitten himself badly. He could already feel his mind fogging again.
Think of something, he thought to himself, don't let yourself end up as Neville's parents ... remember ... He tried to think back at his days at Hogwarts, but another round of Crucio - two at the same - interrupted him and held him busy for the next five minutes. He wished he was dead.
When the curse lifted he did not have any breath left. His throat was sealed shut and his lungs did not seem capable of drawing air. His face was blue and he was shaking uncontrollably.
"Had enough yet, Potter? Want me to stop?"
Harry nodded desperately and somewhere in the back of his mind he wondered if he had agreed to something that he shouldn't had agreed on. He curled to a little ball, trying to shield himself from the world. What was the world really? He wished he could move his leg.
"Have you decided to join me? Be as powerful as I?"
Harry looked up, wondering what the man was talking about. Join him with what? Power? How could he ever feel powerful? "My head hurts," he muttered, his attention already wandering elsewhere and tried to cover his head only to find out that his hands were not working.
"It does, does it not? Therefore you must join me so I can take the pain away."
Harry took away his hand and glared at the man suspiciously. Something was not right about that question and he had a bad feeling about it. "How?"
"Quite simple, Harry. With a flick of this wand and a potion and then the pain will be history."
Wand ... potion ... the words sounded familiar. Harry frowned, trying to remember. It had something to do with a big castle, he knew that much. Hogwarts? Yes, that was it. Funny name, he thought. Hog warts. A hog with warts. Whatever a hog meant.
"Look like we overdid it a little, Lucius," the crimson eyed man said to an other man that Harry only vaguely recognized. "He is already losing it. Go and find Severus again."
When the other man left Voldemort kneeled down in front of Harry, regarding him closely with pitiless eyes. Slowly the man reached out a bony finger and touched Harry's forehead.
Harry was surprised by what he felt. His own pain dimmed and a wonderful, powerful feeling shot through him. He could feel his mind being searched, but he didn't do anything to stop it. On the contrary he felt it rather interesting as he suddenly remembered that he had won a prize in class when he was nine years old for a nice drawing. However, he also remembered that the man had killed his parents and then he remembered a red-haired boy and bushy haired girl with rather large front teeth. The memory of the girl warmed him in a much better way than the other man could and he felt his heart flutter and warm his body.
Suddenly he felt his scar explode in pain and he cried out. The finger left his scar and he knew without looking that the mean man had felt pain as well.
However, a new feeling was growing in Harry's chest. The feeling of pure hatred towards the man who was now panting beside him. His mind oddly blank, the only thing he knew was that the man was the reason for his misery and did not deserve to live.
Harry struggled to his feet (something that was not easy) and with a burst of magic he leaped onto the man's back, kicking, hitting and scratching like a wildcat, ignoring his own pain that made his eyes swell with tears. "I hate you!" hissed Harry with a voice that was barely recognizable. "I HATE YOU, YOU BASTARD!"
It was shock more than anything that kept the man from shrugging him off right away, but Harry was soon panting on the floor again with two unfamiliar, strong hands holding him firmly in place from behind and a pair of crimson eyes staring maliciously at him at the front. He knew he was in serious trouble, but what happened after that moment he never knew.
-
Harry was standing still on the hard stone floor, looking up with emotionless eyes at the group of people that were surrounded around him. His injuries were healed and for the last three weeks he had not been Crucioned. However, those weeks were the only time of his life that he could recall. All he knew was that if his Lord wanted him to do something then he better do it. He would regret it otherwise.
He had gotten some training and time to recover the last two weeks. True, he had to learn everything from the start, from magic to theory, but most of the things came naturally to him. Somehow he felt that he had known some of the things before he got to where he was now, but it was hard to tell. He remembered though, the special, satisfying feeling after he had cast two of the `Most Powerful Curses' that he was told were unforgivable to many of those with weak soul. It felt as though his body had been longing for it for a long time. It also felt good to him to hear someone else being tortured and not himself. It gave him a feeling of power and confidence. When he held a wand in his hand then he had all the power in the world.
Harry wondered how killing someone would feel like. He had practiced the spell, but he had yet to try in on a person.
The Death Eaters had been surprised over Harry's `talent' in the Powerful Curses and told him he was a natural. Even the Dark Lord had told him so and promised Harry that with some training he had the potential of an Heir.
However, first he had to take the mark. He did not really like the thought of having that mark on his arm because it worked as an evidence for the Light wizards, but it was a small price to pay. Besides, no one could hurt him when he got as powerful as the Dark Lord.
He took a deep breath: this was it ... this was the moment he had been waiting for ...
He opened his eyes and saw the Dark Lord himself enter the room. The room quieted down instantly and Harry could hear his heart pounding in his ears. It was easy enough to recognize his power even though Harry had only seen him a couple of times during practice.
The man stood in front of Harry, regarding him closely for any doubts even though he felt none. Then the Lord opened his mouth: "Do you understand why we are here today?"
"Yes, my lord," answered Harry. If anyone who knew the old Harry and listened to his voice now they would not have recognized it. Snape was not present.
"Are you willing to take my mark and mark yourself as one of my followers?"
"It will be a honor, my Lord."
"Step forward, my boy."
Harry did so, aware that everyone was looking at him. He kneeled in front of his Lord's black coat and bowed deeply, showing his respect. "From this moment and until the day I die I will belong to you, my Lord. Nothing can keep me from wanting and succeeding in doing my duties and my duties are what you tell me."
"Excellent. Now roll up your left sleeve."
Again Harry did as he had been told. He rolled the sleeve up and traced his finger softly over his pale, clean skin. He was faintly surprised to see a long, ugly scar there that was older than the other scars he had over his body. Memorizing how innocent the skin looked; he looked up at the man in front of him and nodded. He was ready.
His skin would no longer be innocent. The Dark Lord lifted his wand and pointed it at Harry's upper arm, beginning to chant a long and complex spell. Harry could feel it happening; a little sting at first, then the sting got bigger and bigger until it got so bad that it felt as though his skin was burned off. He managed to stay quiet, however, that pain was nothing compared to what he had been through earlier.
His dark eyes that barely had a few spots of green left in them widened slightly in relief when the pain subsided to a more tolerable level. Looking at his upper arm now he saw a red, angry tattoo of a skull with a snake coiling out of its mouth.
"Thank you, my Lord," he whispered.
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