Stepping over the Edge

"Never does a star grace this land whit a poet's light of twinkling mysteries, nor does the sun send to here its rays of warmth and life. This is the Underdark, the secret world beneath the bustling surface of the forgotten realms, whose sky is a ceiling of heartless stone and whose walls show the grey blandness of death in the torchlight of the foolish surface-dwellers that stumble here. Most who come here uninvited do not return."
The Dark Elf Trilogy - R.A Salvatore

Chapter 8 - Ante-mortem / Before death

Severus Snape was angry. No, strike that. He was furious. The day had started out well, he had been able to take 50 points from his first year Gryffindor class in the morning and then caught two third year Gryffindors throwing Dungbombs in the Entrance Hall. There was no better start to a day then tormenting Gryffindors. He had thought his luck was made when he heard shouting from the Defence classroom and walked in to find Malfoy and Potter in a fight. Of course, he knew that Malfoy probably was the one that started it but what did that matter? And then Lupin had walked in. Snape had inwardly shrieked with joy. Could this day be any better? He soon found out that it could have been a lot better.

"He begged me to kill him!"

That was not the answer Snape had expected from Lupin's question. He couldn't help but to raise an eyebrow at the two boys. Surely Malfoy could have come up with something better than that. Who would believe that the Golden Boy would beg someone to kill him? Snape had silently decided to have a talk to Malfoy later, improve his excuses a little bit.

Snape's next big surprise had been that Lupin didn't seem too surprised; he did actually look like he believed the young Slytherin. Something was wrong. Snape hadn't been a spy for 16 years without the realisation that someone wasn't telling him everything.

Potter hadn't reacted at first to Lupin's calling but suddenly he had spun around and tried to get out of the room. Well, who was he, Severus Snape, to let a Gryffindor get away when it was time to get punished? He had of course reached out for the boy and stopped him. He was a little surprised over the insult the young Gryffindor had let out but it was nothing compared to the surprise when a fist connected to his shoulder and made him lose his grip. Potter may have been small and skinny for his age but he was a lot stronger then you would think. It had actually hurt like hell.

And then the werewolf had the nerve to try and be nice to the little brat! What he deserved was a nice beating, not a "We won't hurt you, we just want to talk". He hadn't been able to keep the sarcastic response inside and he surely didn't regret saying it. It was a wonder the boy still was allowed to attend Hogwarts, after all the rules he had broken over the years.

Lupin hadn't been too happy about it of course and during their little argument the brat had slipped out. Damn it! Not only did he get beaten by a 16-year-old but he didn't even get the chance to take points from him. Oh, Potter would regret this day.

He flinched suddenly as pain shot through his arm. "This day just keeps getting better and better," he muttered to himself and headed for the Entrance Hall. It was Potter's fault his day had been destroyed like this. Going from tormenting Gryffindors to meeting the Dark Lord was a huge step down in his opinion.

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For a second Harry didn't know who he was or where he was but then the memories started to come back to him. He let out an irritated groan and rolled over on his back. The room was made completely out of stone but in difference from his earlier cell this one was much bigger, about a third of the Great Hall, and there were huge windows all around the walls.

Then he heard that evil cackle again, but unlike all the other times he had heard it, this time he wasn't afraid. He didn't even flinch as the sound cut into his body and forced all the memories of pain back into his mind. Harry pulled himself up from the ground and faced his enemy with a stone like expression on his face. He was so focused on the inhuman creature that stood before him that he didn't even notice all the Death Eaters standing along theHe knew Voldemort would kill him and he welcomed it, but he would put on a brave face until the end. He wouldn't give this creature the pleasure of knowing that he had already won.

"So we meet again, Harry Potter," Voldemort said with was supposedly an amused expression on his face. To Harry it only made him look even lesser a human.

"Yeah, it seems that way doesn't it," Harry replied.

The laughter again. Would it ever stop?

"A Gryffindor to the bone. Always mistaking bravery for stupidity."

Harry just stared at him. It would take more then that lame insult to force a reaction in him.

"It was foolish of you to walk out the gates. Your Headmaster will not be happy," Voldemort said as he smirked. "So what made you do it? Did you want to meet me so badly?"

Harry didn't feel like talking to this creature but he knew Voldemort wouldn't stop talking for awhile if he wasn't provoked. So to speed up the process, he talked back.

"I would rather kiss a werewolf then see your ugly face." There wasn't a single trace of emotion in Harry's voice and his eyes never left Voldemort's.

"Would you really?" He got that horrible expression on his face again, that amused look. "That could be arranged."

Cold green eyes meeting amused red.

"But no, I wouldn't want a werewolf running around. A corpse is much better." He smirked. "But you won't go so easy Harry Potter. We have all the time in the world. Crucio!"

The spell hit Harry straight in the chest and as it shot through his body, with that white-hot pain he had learned to hate, he fell to his knees. It ripped through him, making him shake and tremble, but he did not scream. This time was so unlike all the others, this time he greeted it. As the pain injected him he felt peace in a way not even jumping off the Astronomy Tower could make him feel. Everything else disappeared; it was only him and the pain. Nothing else mattered.

And then it stopped.

Laughter. It rang through the room sending a chill down a spine. But it wasn't high-pitched or cold. It was empty. Harry Potter lay on the floor laughing and it was only interrupted once in awhile by the after effects of the curse making him flinch. Of all the sounds you could hear coming out of a 16 year old boy this was the most nerve wrecking of all.

When he finally got control of himself again he turned towards the Dark Lord with a smirk on his face. "Is that the best you can do?"

Voldemort looked slightly taken back by this but quickly pulled himself together. "No longer scared of pain Potter?"

"Why should I be? You already caused me so much; a little Cruciatus curse is nothing in compare."

Some of the Death Eaters shifted nervously at his calmness but a stern look from their master made them stand frozen to their spots.

Voldemort turned back towards Harry again. "Not scared of pain then. I wonder, are you still scared of death?"

Harry didn't answer; he just stared into those red eyes without the slightest bit of emotion showing.

The laughter returned; that high-pitched laughter that pierced your soul. "So that is why you left the security of Hogwarts. You were seeking death and counted on me to deliver it to you."

He met Harry's eyes and stared into his empty soul. The pain had taken so much of this young boy that there wasn't much left of him anymore.

"Then, you were wrong. Where is the pleasure in killing a suicidal?" He smirked again. "No, I will keep you alive Harry Potter. You will witness the world falling into the darkness knowing that there isn't anything you can do about it. You took me for granted and I'll make sure you regret it."