Harry Potter and the Eye of Isis

Chapter 12 - Faithful Servants

"Draco Malfoy is not in Slytherin house," Snape said breathlessly. "I've searched his dorm and I could not locate him."

"Mr. Weasley, quick, go back to your dorm and get Mr. Potter's map," Dumbledore instructed. "Perhaps it will reveal Mr. Malfoy's whereabouts."

Ron wasted no time in doing as he was told. He ran the entire way, ignoring everyone and everything in his path. When he returned to Professor McGonagall's office it took a few moments before he had enough air in his lungs to activate the map.

The Headmaster unfolded the Marauder's Map, searching the Slytherin house for any signs of Draco Malfoy. His eyes focused in on one spot on the map, obviously seeing something that pleased him, though he didn't share it immediately.

"Minerva, will you kindly ask Severus to meet us in the infirmary? I have a feeling that Mr. Malfoy may not be himself right now. And please have Professor Flitwick keep watch over Miss Lovegood. She is not to leave the school until we have this situation under control."

"Certainly, Headmaster."

Dumbledore headed for the door and Ron, Neville and Ginny instinctively began to follow him. "I think it best if you all stay with Professor McGonagall." With that comment he left, the Marauder's Map clinched in his hands still.

Professor McGonagall surveyed the three Gryffindors quickly, and her eyes commanded that they sit, which all of them did. She turned to her fireplace and spoke quickly with Professor Flitwick. She then flooed over to the Gryffindor common room, returning momentarily with Hermione.

Hermione's bushy hair was more out of control than normal, her eyes were swollen and she was covered in a bathrobe. Apparently, Professor McGonagall had woken her and not given her a chance to change. Hermione was beginning to realise her current state and she quickly wrapped her arms around her body, trying to cover any parts that the scant robe might be revealing. She opened her mouth to say something but before she could, Professor McGonagall pointed her wand at Hermione and transfigured the bathrobe into a black cloak.

Professor McGonagall looked at her students with uncertainty. "I'm supposed to meet the Headmaster in the infirmary, but I think it best if you were not alone right now...given the circumstances."

"What circumstances, Professor?" Hermione asked.

"Mr. Potter did not return from his meeting with Mr. Malfoy last night. He is no longer on Hogwarts grounds," Professor McGonagall answered matter-of-factly.

Hermione gasped, tears filled her eyes. "I knew I should have told you--"

"Yes, you certainly should have, however, now is not the time to fret over our regrets," she stated. "You will all accompany me to the infirmary."

"Yes, Professor," they all answered.

When they arrived in the infirmary, Draco Malfoy was lying in a cot, with a good deal of hair missing. Madam Pomfrey was moving her wand slowly over his body, probing for anything that may be wrong with him. Professors Dumbledore and Snape were already standing at the cot, and Professor McGonagall joined them.

As instructed previously, Ron, Hermione, Neville and Ginny stayed near the entrance of the infirmary (the opposite side of the room). Three of them stood, straining to hear any of the conversation, but Ginny reached into her cloak. She removed two small pieces of what looked like rubber and her wand. She tapped one of the rubber pieces with her wand and whispered "Exaudio", then set it down on the ground, quickly pointing in the direction of Malfoy's cot. It scampered across the floor until it perched itself just under the cot.

Ginny took the second piece of rubber and tapped it with her wand, saying "Auditor", and placed it in her ear. She looked at Ron, Hermione and Neville (who were staring at her with their mouths hanging open). "What?" she asked innocently. "You don't live as the butt of the twins' jokes and experiments and not learn a few things."

"Can you hear them?" Ron asked his sister.

She nodded. "Come closer, and be quiet, and you should be able to hear them too."

Suddenly, everyone seemed to be hugging Ginny. But this went unnoticed by the Professors in the room, as they were busy talking amongst themselves.

"Where did you find him, Albus?" McGonagall asked.

"In the Room of Requirement," answered Dumbledore. "Someone had placed him inside a trunk, who and why are questions I think we will not like the answers of." Dumbledore leaned over Malfoy taking a better look at the hair that was missing. "I wonder if Poppy will be able to tell us how long he was there."

"Can't have been too long," she answered quickly, "he's showing no signs of dehydration or starvation--"

"The person who put him there could have been feeding him too," Snape interrupted.

"Yes, I suppose that is true," Madam Pomfrey conceded, "but if he was being held hostage then someone sure went out of their way to feed him quite well. He's in perfect health, aside from the fact that he is unconscious."

"Have you figured out why yet?" Dumbledore asked.

"A sleeping draught, and a strong one at that. It's going to be several more hours before he wakes."

"I could give him a waking potion," Snape suggested, "and some veritaserum."

"To your own student?" Professor McGonagall asked, quite obviously appalled by the thought.

"He knows something," Snape hissed. "He knows who took Potter."

"We don't even know that Harry was abducted, Severus. How can you assume that Draco Malfoy was behind it? Perhaps they did duel last night and something happened to Harry to disorient him. Perhaps he's wondered into the forest?"

"Yes, because it's so lovely in the dark forest this time of year," Snape snapped. "How ridiculous! You know as well as I do that Potter has been kidnapped, and you know who did it too!"

"Severus," Dumbledore grabbed his arm to calm him. "We will get to the bottom of this."

"I hardly think that giving Malfoy veritaserum is the way to go. He's a child and that is very powerful potion. If it's administered incorrectly there could be serious repercussions."

"Yes, I know that," Snape's irritation continued. "I do have some experience in this area, and I think I can handle giving him a correct dosage."

"Yes, yes," Dumbledore spoke to break the tension. "I think it wise to find out exactly what Mr. Malfoy knows, as soon as possible. Severus, if you will get a waking potion and veritaserum?"

He nodded quickly, spun around and stormed towards the infirmary entrance. Ron, Hermione, Neville and Ginny dove out of his way. Not out of respect but because he was in such a foul mood that he would sooner bowl them over than ask, or demand, them to move.

*

Draco Malfoy blinked his eyes twice. He didn't seem to be focusing in on any one thing. Snape peered at him, checking his eyes then nodded at the Headmaster.

Dumbledore sat on the cot gently, drawing Malfoy's gaze towards him. "What is your name?"

"Draco Black Malfoy."

"What is the date?"

"December 15, 1996."

Dumbledore nodded slowly. "Draco, who is the last person you remember speaking with?"

"My father," Malfoy answered, "he came into my dorm room, he said there was a family matter that must have my attention. He asked me if I had challenged Potter to a duel as he instructed me to."

"Did you challenge Harry Potter to a duel?"

"Yes, we're supposed to meet Friday night at the Quidditch Pitch."

"Do you know where you've been for the past five days?"

"At school."

"This is going nowhere," McGonagall sighed heavily, "he doesn't know anything. He couldn't have been helping anyone abduct Potter."

"Harry Potter will be with the Dark Lord soon," Malfoy said in response to her comment. "The Dark Lord will use him and then kill him."

"Use him for what?" Dumbledore began questioning again.

"I don't know. I only know that he requires Potter to complete a task. Something about his bloodline makes him the only person who can do it."

"Do you know where the Dark Lord is now?" Professor Snape asked.

"Sand and sun."

Everyone looked at Malfoy with confusion. "What is that suppose to mean?" Dumbledore wondered but when Malfoy repeated it, it was evident that he didn't know where Voldemort was.

The questioning didn't seem to have anywhere else to go, so it was stopped and Malfoy was ordered to get some rest. Dumbledore asked Snape to take Ron and Hermione to his office, but to leave Neville and Ginny with him in the infirmary for a moment.

*

"Malfoy?" Snape stood over the pale blonde. He wanted to reach down and slap him but he refrained. He didn't want to draw the attention of Madam Pomfrey; he wanted to have a moment alone with Malfoy without any interruptions.

"What?" Malfoy opened his eyes slowly. "What do you want?"

"The truth.... Why wasn't I informed of this plan?" Snape asked quietly. "I am the most senior--"

"I know, but I was given orders not to compromise your position here. I don't think that you should be talking to me right now."

"If anyone asks, I'm just checking on a student from my house."

"Fine," Malfoy gritted his teeth, "just so you know that I do what I'm told."

"How did you overcome the veritaserum?"

"You aren't the only person that can brew it, you know? And I'm certain that you also have something of a tolerance to it, as does the Dark Lord."

"You are quite out of line, young Malfoy. You aren't even among our ranks yet, let alone a trusted, faithful servant of the Dark Lord. You'd better watch your tone with me."

"I apologise, sir," Malfoy responded in a tone that wasn't much better than the first. "I meant no disrespect to you or any...others. I'm trying my best to prove to my father of my loyalty and my desires for the future. I did exactly as he asked of me. You be sure and tell him that when you see him later today."

"I'm sure he already knows that you served your purpose in the instance," Snape smirked. "I will let your father know that you were successful," he stood to leave, but added, "well done, Draco."

*

"You were right," Ron said miserably as he sank onto the floor in Professor Dumbledore's office.

"I know." Hermione paced impatiently. "I knew something bad was going to happen. I should have gone to Professor McGonagall... I shouldn't have let him go."

"I was no help, Hermione, I told you to leave him alone," Ron covered his face with his hands, muffling his voice in the process. "And I...I...we..."

He just couldn't put the words together. His emotions wouldn't gather into a coherent sentence. All he could think about was what he had been doing last night, instead of what he should have done. He should have respect Hermione's feelings and gone with her to Professor McGonagall. He just couldn't stand the thought of getting his best friend into trouble. Deep in his heart he knew more could have been done to protect Harry, and at the very least, he should have gone with Harry to the Quidditch Pitch...followed him if necessary.

"I didn't do that to distract you."

Hermione only sighed at his comment as she fell into a chair near Ron. "You weren't alone last night, Ron, and you didn't make me do anything that I didn't want to. It's just--"

Ron uncovered his face, staring directly up at Hermione, searching her eyes for regret. "It's just what, Hermione? Do you regret--?"

"No!" She insisted. "I wasn't going to tell you that I regretted staying with you last night, but I do regret the timing of it. Ron, I just knew that Harry was walking into a trap, and I think that he knew it too. I don't understand why he went.

"You and I both know that all of his magical abilities were enhanced over the summer. Some more than others, and I believe that Divination was one of the abilities that were enhanced. How many times has he made a comment about how easily lessons come to him now? Almost as if he already knew what the lesson was going to be. And how many comments has he made about how well Divination classes are going? And what about the attack on Hogsmeade? He knew it was about to happen."

Ron nodded slowly. "I know, that's all true, but he didn't seem leery about meeting Malfoy last night. You were the one doing all of the talking."

"But he did voice a concern, even if he didn't want to admit it. Remember? When I told him that I didn't trust Malfoy and he agreed?"

Ron nodded recalling the conversation. "I remember."

"That was something that he felt."

"And I told you to leave him alone." Sorrow filled Ron's voice, as he looked away from Hermione, unable to look her in the eyes at the moment. "I can't believe I didn't go with him."

"We shouldn't have let him go...period." Hermione slid off of the chair and knelt before Ron, knowing that he needed to be comforted and that she needed that very much as well. "Do you think that you can for give me?"

"There's nothing to forgive you for, Hermione," Ron insisted.

She nodded thankfully. "Do you think that Harry will forgive us?

"Would you forgive me and Harry if we were off snogging while you were being kidnapped?" Ron's face puckered in disgust as he realised what he just said. "I mean--"

"I know what you meant," she assured him, "but to be honest with you, I just don't know how Harry's going to feel about what happened between us. I told him a few weeks ago that I fancied you."

"That explains why he has been asking so many questions about you lately. He was trying to tell me, trying to get me to admit to him that I wanted you. I was so conflicted about it until last night. We bicker so much, but yesterday it was clear to me. I wasn't lying to you, Hermione, I--"

Just then the door opened and Professor McGonagall ushered through Neville and Ginny. She looked sternly at Ron and Hermione on the ground. "You are all to wait in here until the Headmaster comes. He needs to speak with all of you." She exited, closing the door sharply behind her.

Neville and Ginny both looked extremely distraught. Ron knew they were upset about Harry's disappearance but their demeanour had changed in the last half an hour. Whatever Professor Dumbledore told them in the infirmary was having a deep effect on both of them.

Neville was hard to read as he took a seat, but his eyes held a fear and sorrow that Ron was certain he hadn't seen before in Neville. Neville noticed Ron's stare and pulled his eyes away. This avoidance was enough to get Hermione's full attention, pulling her off of her knees. Ron, however, remained where he was studying Neville for a moment longer.

Ginny, too, was more distraught. She had a torn expression on her face. She looked gripped with fear about Harry's current predicament. She was pale and sickly looking. Dark, puffy circles carved around her eyes, showing that she had cried a great deal at whatever Professor Dumbledore had told her. And while her eyes were hallowed out and sad, there was also a curiosity burning within her. So many questions she seemed to want to ask, and it was apparent that her own brother could answer a few of those questions.

Hermione seemed to recognise the question in Ginny's eyes, so she shook her head slowly, and then looked away from every person in the room. She couldn't stand the sight of another person's inquisitive eyes at the moment; for she knew that last night she had the power to stop this horrible fiasco. Her guilt plagued her. If she had only listened to her instincts (and followed school rules) last night, Harry would be with them.

"What did Dumbledore say to you two?" Ron asked Neville and Ginny, but neither appeared able to answer. Confusion set on both of their faces, neither saying anything, apparently unable to find words. Before Ron could ask what was going on, Professor Dumbledore finally entered his office, holding a large stone bowl in his left arm, after making the four Gryffindors wait for nearly a half an hour. He said nothing as he set the bowl on his desk; he simply motioned for the students to come closer.

Ron finally got up off of the floor and joined Hermione, Neville and Ginny standing opposite of Dumbledore at his desk. They crowded together; all eyes were focused on the large stone bowl that sat upon the desk. Hermione, of course, was deciphering the runes inscribed around the rim.

"In order to determine exactly what Miss Lovegood said, and have a record of it, we are going to place the memory into my pensieve," explained Professor Dumbledore as he looked down at the four Gryffindors. "Now, this will work on anyone who was present that night, but it is best if the person that was standing closest to Miss Lovegood provides the memory."

"But, sir," Ginny interrupted, "Harry was the closest to Luna, and...well, he's not exactly here..." Her voice trailed off as if she had drawn a conclusion already about Harry's whereabouts that she did not wish to speak aloud.

"It's all right, Miss Weasley," Dumbledore said in a very soft, soothing voice. "I meant of the four of you."

"I...I was standing next to Harry," Neville mumbled. "He rushed to her side; I think he knew what was happening."

"Yes, Mr. Potter has been present at the giving of a prophecy in the past. Although the Seer was a different person, I believe that the reactions were quite the same." Dumbledore rounded the desk and stood behind Neville. "Just relax, Neville. What I need for you to do is recall the evening of the Yule Ball, specifically when you walked Luna back to the Ravenclaw Common Room."

Neville nodded, closing his eyes and concentrating on the memory. After a few moments, the headmaster pressed his wand to Neville's right temple and extracted a long silvery strand. He touched it down into the bowl and gave it a stir quickly.

"Very good, Neville," he said with a smile.

Neville opened his eyes and looked around, then peered over the edge of the bowl with everyone else. He saw himself standing next to Luna with Harry bent down over her. He could see they were talking but wasn't close enough to make out any words.

"Wow, that's all it takes?" Neville asked, astonished that the memory had been so easily to remove from his mind.

Professor Dumbledore nodded. "If you will all return to your Common Room, I must study this a bit." When they all rose from there chairs, Dumbledore added, "I'm sure that you all realise that you have missed the train, I will make arrangements for you all to be transported to the headquarters of the Order, and Miss Lovegood as well. I think it wise to keep the five of you under my supervision until I have had a chance to analyse this situation. Your families will of course be contacted and informed."

Five minutes passed before Professor Dumbledore picked up the pensieve and exited his office through a secret passage way. He walked several meters before entering Professor Snape's dungeon office.

"I have retrieved the memory from Neville Longbottom." He informed the Potions Master as he set the pensieve down on his desk. "I'm not entirely certain that it is a prophecy, but it would seem that she saw the truth."

"If that's not a prophecy, Headmaster, I don't know what is," Snape said, peering in at the contents. "Do you really think it is wise to take to five students to headquarters for the Christmas holiday?"

"I'm not worried about the students, Severus; however, I do have some doubts about a certain member of one of the student's families. And for that I must come up with a good reason to tell Mr. Lovegood and Mrs. Longbottom as to why I am detaining their children."

"I've never seen any members of those families at any gatherings."

Dumbledore nodded his head slowly. "Yes, but I have my reservations, and you have lost Voldemort's complete trust--you've admitted as much."

Snape nodded quickly. "I know that we've decided that I will not go to the Dark Lord the next time he calls, but given the circumstances, I believe I should. I may not have his trust and he may suspect that I have come simply to rescue Potter, but if I don't go--"

"I know, Severus, I know...and given the circumstances, I agree. We have no clue as to where Harry's been taken, but I'm sure he is no longer in the country and none of our operatives know where Voldemort has been for the past month."

"The Dark Lord hasn't used the Dark Mark to summon us in that long either. Where ever he is, and whatever he's working on, only his most trusted followers know about it." The thought of the ordeal that lay ahead of him exhausted him already. He knew it would take a great deal of mental strength as well as physical. Snape let out a heavy sigh as he sank into a large green chair.

"I am certain of one thing though, Headmaster. If the Dark Lord does have Potter in his possession, he will call on the Death Eaters to witness the boy's death. He has become obsessed with proving that he can kill Harry Potter. However, since he gave me specific instructions to make sure Potter was healthy, I believe we have an opportunity to retrieve him. Once I've gone to the Dark Lord I will have to convince him that I am a loyal servant. That may mean doing things that will convince Potter that I am not present to see after his well being. He will be convinced that I am a faithful Death Eater."

"I understand, Severus, and expected no less. I just ask that you not do anything to harm Harry."

"Of course not, Headmaster. I--"

Suddenly, Snape grabbed his left arm. Pain shot through his body, radiating in every cell. All he could do was squeeze his eyes shut as he clutched his arm to his chest. When the pain began to subside he slowly opened his eyes.

"It is time." Snape grimaced. "I've been summoned."

Snape ignored everyone in the corridors as he ran out of the castle. As soon as he was out of bounds he stopped, took a deep breath and Apparated. He found himself just outside a familiar cemetery but did not see Voldemort anywhere. Instead there were three Death Eaters standing at the entrance of the graveyard. After regaining his composure, he approached not having to ask what was going on.

"Snape, you're very prompt today...for once." Bellatrix smiled at him, her eyes laced with delight in knowing something that he did not. "What? You're not babysitting the kiddies?" He simply smirked at her as she handed him an old rag doll. "Over there," she pointed to a tree a few meters away, "it will take you to your next destination."

"Where am I going?"

"To your Master, that's all you need know."

Snape didn't press. If Harry had been abducted and taken to Voldemort, their location would be quite well hidden even from Death Eaters. He gripped the doll in both hands as he took his place under the tree awaiting the unwelcome, but familiar hook behind the navel. When it came he felt as though he were spinning out of control. He tried very hard to concentrate on remaining upright because falling upon landing would not be acceptable.

The portkey was taking him quite a distance considering how much time was passing as Snape twirled to his unknown destination. He finally landed some ten minutes later feeling quite ill, but putting on a strong face, unable to show the sickness that was threatening to overcome him. Not only was he nauseous, but also he was suddenly extremely warm. He felt as though he ought to take off his robe in the warm sun but refrained as he approached another cloaked figure. He couldn't see this man's face even when he was standing directly in front of him.

"You are in Cairo. You are to Apparate to the temples at Karnack. There you will meet the others and the Dark Lord."

Snape nodded. Even though he had never actually been to Egypt he knew the terrain and felt confident he could get there without splicing himself. Moments later he arrived at the south entrance of the temple. He looked around at the splendour of the row of sphinxes just behind him. He found it hard to imagine that Muggles couldn't see this anymore. They now saw so very little of the wonders of Egypt and Snape wondered how it could be fully appreciated without seeing its full beauty.

The anti-Muggle charms were thick in Egypt, there had been so much magic used during the dynasty of the pharaohs. He imagined that Muggles could only see the portions of temples and pyramids that their ancestors had actually constructed before the segregation of magical and non-magical.

Snape quickly glanced for others before he entered the temple. There were some tourists so he tried his best to look inconspicuous as he walked in pretending to take in the sights. He knew in minutes where he was to go. There was a corridor that was lit up with torches, which the Muggles were completely ignoring, almost certainly unable to see it. Several meters down the corridor he came to a room with other cloaked figures in it. He entered and approached one of the cloaked men.

"Severus," Lucius greeted him as he removed his own hood. "How's my son?"

"He's in the infirmary, but he will be fine. He's very proud of you, he idolises you."

Malfoy smiled approvingly. "I presume you know a great deal more of what is about to happen?" Snape nodded. "Good, because I made sure the Dark Lord knew that I quickly infiltrated Hogwarts and brought Potter to him while he sat right under your nose."

"We each have our own orders, Lucius. I do what I'm told," Snape sneered at him.

"Yes, of course, your presence at Hogwarts has other uses."

They said nothing else to each other as they waited watching the room fill with Death Eaters. Snape was shocked to see a glimmer of red hair under a cloak when it arrived. His first thought was a Weasley was now a Death Eater, but then he quickly cleared his mind, reminding himself that even that prat Percy wouldn't be dense enough to serve the Dark Lord.

A full hour after he arrived, Bellatrix entered the room signalling that all from England had arrived. Moments later Voldemort appeared before them. His thin body was still unnerving to look at, and the red eyes seemed to have the ability to look through a person as he surveyed each of his servants.

"Today is a great day. Last night my faithful servant delivered to me Harry Potter!" He swept his arm back revealing Harry bound and gagged. He clearly had been through an ordeal already.

Snape couldn't help but feel sorry for the boy. He had been in Voldemort's possession not even a full day yet, but Voldemort hadn't wasted any time torturing him. Blood seeped from the scar on his forehead; his nose and his clothes were cloaked with a mixture of blood and sweat. Snape looked at Harry. He was unconscious and Snape wondered if that was because of the pain he'd been subjected to, if he'd fought tooth and nail (bloody idiotic brave Gryffindor), or perhaps, Voldemort never even allowed consciousness.

"Today I will tell you that this child has been prophesied to defeat me, and some say he has already done so. But I say now that no boy can kill your Lord!" The room erupted in cheers. "I am here today, stronger than ever! And while I will have Harry Potter's blood, it will not be until he has retrieved the Eye of Isis."

Snape looked around at the cheering fools, scoffing at the stupidity surrounding him. They had no idea what the Eye of Isis was. He was certain that they all were going to learn what the Eye of Isis was soon, but equally as certain almost no one knew yet.

"I require the inner circle to remain," Voldemort instructed. "The rest of you will be called upon again shortly to witness Potter's demise."

The chamber emptied of most of its guests, but nearly twenty remained, Snape included. He made his way towards Voldemort, stopping in front of him, bent in a deep bow. "My Lord, do you wish me to stay as well?"

"Of course, Severus," the red eyes turned on him, searching Snape over. "You are still a faithful servant, are you not?"

"Always, My Lord," Snape insisted.

"Good...because I have a job for you." Voldemort smiled ever so slightly. "Wake Potter."

Snape nodded, pointing his wand at Harry. "Ennervate."

Harry was slow to show any signs of life. Finally, he opened his eyes, focusing on the person standing right in front of him. At first he thought someone had managed to rescue him and he was in the infirmary with Snape of all people, but then he looked past the Potions Master and saw Lucius Malfoy, Peter Pettigrew, Bellatrix Lestrange and Voldemort. Anger swelled within him. Snape was a spy all right, but he was spying on the Order not Voldemort.

"You sodding bastard," Harry was weak, but he still managed to saturate his voice with hatred for his Potions Professor. "Everyone trusted you, but I knew better. I know you were loyal to Voldemort."

"How dare you say his name?" he shouted as he trained his wand right on Harry's face.

Just as he was about to shout a curse at the boy, Voldemort grabbed his hand. "No, Severus, I've punished him extensively in the last few hours, and as much as I'm sure it would give you and me pleasure to watch Potter die, he has a purpose to serve first."

"Of course, My Lord," Snape tucked his wand back into his robe. "I just can't stand the filthy half blood, he's so arrogant. At Hogwarts, I must endure it but now that I have your permission to reveal my true intentions, I just cannot stand him."

Voldemort nodded, noting the disgust that Snape clearly had for Harry. "Yes, I understand, and I promise if you serve me well in this task, you may have some play time with the boy before I kill him."

"Thank you, My Lord; that would give me great pleasure." His eyes sparkled at the thought of being able to curse Harry.

Voldemort nodded slightly, surveying Harry. "This anger that courses through you, Harry, is quite becoming. Why I believe that you may even be capable of executing an unforgivable curse now. I know last year you said the words, but you didn't even manage to tickle Lestrange, but now...now I imagine you have enough anger to kill all of us."

Harry's eyes focused in on Voldemort's. He might be in pain, but he had no intention of letting the monster have his way. "Only you, Riddle."

Voldemort grabbed Harry by his throat, squeezing hard enough to cause his face to redden, but not enough to choke him. "Don't you ever call me by that filthy Muggle's name. Don't you pretend to have enough gumption to refer to me as anything other than the Dark Lord."

Green eyes continued to meet red, even as the blood swelled further within Harry's face. Knowing what would happen, but not caring, Harry spat on Voldemort's face. "Fuck you."

At that, every wand in the room was pointed at Harry. Several different curses were cast at him at the same moment bringing his body back to the ground, convulsing in utter pain. Seconds turned into minutes, and Harry could feel his mind slipping away...away from the pain. He didn't feel himself as he drifted into a deep sleep. His dreams were filled with sand and blood. When he woke he was alone on a limestone floor. The coolness of it actually felt good against his cheek, but the refreshing feeling didn't last long.

Harry tried to lift his head and found that the only way to do so was to peel his cheek from the ground. He'd obviously been lying there quite some time, bleeding all the while. The dried blood was holding him to the floor, while fresh blood was secreting from his scar.

Finally, Harry managed to get himself to his seat and he immediately began struggling with his hands. He was still bound, but with no one around, he desperately working on the ropes. He realised quickly that this task was going to require magic, so his thoughts came to that. He pictured his hands tied together behind his back. The rope became a clear picture in his mind's eye. Within a minute, he was able to rip his hands free, pulling them back in front of him so he could untie his ankles. Once he was finally free he removed his robe, which tore from his back causing Harry almost as much pain as the cruciatus curse. He bent down over his robe, inspecting why it had caused so much pain, and realised it too was soaked in blood. Harry stretched one hand towards his back and felt the sticky warmth, suddenly aware that his back hurt severely. He brought his hand back in front of his face, looking at the blood. As much as he didn't want to, he knew he needed to get his jumper off so it didn't cling to the wound any further.

With a yelp he yanked, quickly removing the jumper and throwing it on top of his robes. For a moment, Harry thought he saw something shining on the jumper. He picked it up again and stared at it. There were pieces of his own flesh stuck to the inside of the garment. Tears rushed to his eyes knowing the physical damage that must have been inflicted upon him. What scared him more was that he didn't remember anything happening to his back. Why were there suddenly ribbons of flesh missing from his body?

There wasn't time to think about that at the moment though, he needed to find his wand. He hoped upon hope that it was still in his possession and not lying in pieces somewhere, or worse, in Voldemort's pocket.

Again, he leaned over the discarded garments, riffling through the inner pockets of his robes until his hand met the thing he searched for. Harry gripped his wand tightly, cherishing the feeling of the wood in his hands.

"Lumos."

The wand lit up the dark room but Harry still couldn't see much of anything. The walls all appeared to be the same stone, letting Harry know that he was within an older Egyptian building, presumably a pyramid. He began feeling the walls hoping to find a door or a lever to activate a door. Finally, he found a small dent in the wall. It didn't budge and there didn't appear to be a way to force it open, however, it seemed to be Harry's only hope.

Harry pointed his wand at it and whispered "Alohomora."

Dirt trickled down the wall as the stones moved a bit. There was enough movement for Harry to make out the edge of a door. He grabbed it and pulled with all of the strength he could muster. The door opened a meter and Harry decided that would have to do, he didn't have the strength to continue pulling on the heavy slab. Instead he would have to gather the courage to squeeze through the small opening, grinding his back against the rigid walls in the process. Harry bit into his lips to keep himself from screaming as the pain shot through his body. Tears prickled his eyes but he'd done it, he was free of the room that had apparently been his cell.

Knowing that he didn't have the strength to fight anyone, Harry decided his only hope of escape was Apparation. But how to do it when he didn't know where he was? Was it possible to visualise an escape if he didn't know where he was escaping from? And he knew he could never Apparate back to Hogsmeade or the Burrow; International Apparation was said to be extremely difficult, and highly policed. Although, something told him that escaping Voldemort would be grounds for an excuse in the policy.

It was then that he realised that very few people knew that he could Apparate, and no one in the Ministry (besides Mr. Weasley) knew. If he were to be caught Apparating he'd most certainly be expelled from school. As his brain finally began to function correctly, he remembered Professor Dumbledore telling him that he wasn't to reveal the fact that he could Apparate to Voldemort for as long as humanly possible. Since everything was stacked against him being able to simply pop out, he decided he must face whatever, and whoever lay in front of him.

Knowing he would need as much strength as possible, Harry turned his wand on himself. Trying his best to point it at his back he said the spell he remembered Professor Flitwick using to heal Draco Malfoy. "Medicor." Harry did this again on his wrists and ankles, and while the pain still existed, at least he wasn't seeping blood any longer.

Having put off his escape as long as possible, Harry extended his wand again and began walking towards an unknown destination. He walked for what seemed like hours before seeing light at the end of the corridor. He was drawn to it out of desperation to be free. Fear had given way to exhaustion as Harry entered a room full of Death Eaters. His spirit had given up as he walked into the centre of the room, ready for death. He stood there...waiting.

However, no one took notice of him. Even when he cleared his throat loudly, only a few heads turned to survey him. Thinking that perhaps someone had performed some sort of charm on him, Harry exited that room. He entered a corridor that was lit with green flamed torches, the light was hypnotising as he continued to walk until he met a door. This door wasn't at all difficult to open; Harry was able to just give it a quick shove.

The room was grand in scale. A large green rug covered the cold stone floors, a faux fireplace burned in the corner and two large, comfortable looking chairs sat in front of the flames. Harry noticed a figure sitting in one of the chairs and approached this person. On his way there, he noted a coffin-like box against a wall. As his mind began to wonder about the contents of the coffin, or if it was his, a voice interrupted him.

"I knew you'd be able to free yourself," the eerie voice observed. "It may seem that I have no faith in you, Harry, but I know that you have the potential to be a very powerful wizard. After all, everyone is counting on your ability to kill me."

Voldemort finally turned in the chair, looking back at Harry. His red eyes lit up strangely in the firelight. "Sit, I want to speak with you."

"Why should I listen to anything that you have to say to me?" Harry asked accusingly. "Why don't you just kill me now and get it over with."

Voldemort nodded slowly. "It probably would be wise to finish you now while your spirit is broken. I feel that you welcome the inevitable right now. You wouldn't even fight at this moment, would you?"

Harry didn't answer for a moment. He didn't want to die, but he didn't want to fight anymore either. "I don't care if you kill me now. At least it will be an ending, and maybe I'll have peace in death."

"Some how I doubt that, Harry." A smiled danced on Voldemort's lips. "You're the type of soul that would agonise over all of those you should have helped."

Harry heard the voice in his mind; Voldemort had broken through and was telling him to sit again. As much as Harry didn't want to obey anything Voldemort ordered of him, or hear anything that the monster had to say, Harry found himself shuffling to the chair and collapsing within it. He closed his eyes not wanting to look at Voldemort and wanting some rest. The silence in the room didn't worry him, however, when Voldemort spoke again, Harry realised he had allowed himself to become to fatigued.

"You have very deep feelings for someone," Voldemort realised as he stared at Harry. Harry's thoughts had become increasingly difficult to access since he turned sixteen, but in his fatigue his emotions were coming through. "A girl?"

Harry wanted to beat himself over the head for thinking of her at all in his current situation, but he couldn't help but be sad at the prospect of never seeing her again. He forced himself to banish the thought before her name came into his mind, Voldemort could not know it.

"No, there's no girl," Harry told him as he opened his eyes again. "That would be like gift wrapping you another victim. I would never do that."

"All the same, I have heard that you escorted a certain Weasley to the Yule Ball--"

"She's my best friend's sister!" Harry shouted, making the task of taking Ginny to the Yule Ball sound revolting. "I was doing him a favour!"

"You are very close to the Weasleys, aren't you? They're almost your family now right? You have a mum now, don't you?"

Harry glared at Voldemort; the smile on his evil face was beginning to enrage Harry. "Go to hell!"

"I've renewed your anger. Good, you need some sort of strength for what you are about to do for me."

"I'm not going to do anything for you; you'll just have to kill me."

"All in good time, Harry," Voldemort laughed. "You will perform a task or two for me, or I will kill Mrs. Weasley."

"I'm not one of one your faithful servants. I'm not going to do shit for you!" Harry said sternly. "And I won't let you lay a finger on Mrs. Weasley."

"She, Harry, is the reason that you will retrieve the Eye of Isis for me."