The Last Days of War

As I make my way into Malfoy Manor I am surprised at the lack of guards and charms. Plainly speaking it was very easy to get into. This kept me on edge thinking that it was all one big scheme and when my guard was down they would find me. I walked swiftly under the cloak down the twisted, dismal corridors. If it wasn't for Draco's detailed map I would be lost. I prepare to make the final turn when I hear voices. I quickly slink against the wall as the two death eaters pass. I let out my breath and cautiously walk down the corridor seeing my destination. I walk up to the door and stop just as I was about to turn the knob. I retreat a few steps and go over my plan once more. Another person passes and I am now ready. I walk right up to the door and grab the knob. I turn it to open the door but the door does not open. I stand their confused for a minute or so and feel a tugging behind my navel. The door is a blasted Portkey! I curse myself for being so naïve and find myself standing inside a cell. Bars all around, hard, cold stone beneath my feet and a high moldy ceiling above, there was no way out. How could I be so daft? How could it be that simple to break into this place? I curse myself and walk about the cell using various charms to find a way out. I barley get more than three spells out when I hear a pop. I look around and see two red slits peeking threw adark hood. I know who it is. "So you have finally arrived Harry," it says, making my name sound as if it were poison.

"Yes I have," I say with the strongest voice I have, raising my wand.

"You do know you will not survive," it says, drawing his wand.

"No, Tom you are mistaken. You are the one that will not survive," I say, shooting Expelliarmus at him.

"A 1^st year spell Harry? Come on I thought you were at least going to put up a fight," it says, shooting the Cruciatus Curse at me.

I side step the spell and find myself not knowing what to do now. A flash of green light whipped by my head taking me out of my daze. 'Stick to the plan!' I keep saying to myself.

Blue sparks fly out of my wand hitting it directly in the chest. It stumbles and continues to shoot colorful light at me. I keep moving not letting him get a clear shot. I know he is agitated and it shows with his spell casting. I see an opportunity and take it. I shoot Avada Kedavra and it hits. It falls to the ground and I rush over shooting curse after curse at it. I can taste victory and it taste so sweet... but then someone jumps on me forcing me to the ground. I try and fight it off but they have some sort of knife. I drop my wand and feel around for it. But the person does not let me grab it. I see Voldemort standing above me foot trapping my wand to the ground and the other person sitting atop my chest. I swing with my fist and kick with me feet but it is no use; the person atop me stabs my side. I wince in pain as they push the knife further into my body and I scream in agony as they take it out. 'I must not give up!' is my last thought before someone kicks the back of my head, rendering me unconscious.

My eyes open and I find my self in the same cell. I turned to one side trying to get up but find my self lying in a pool of blood. With all my strength I stand clutching my side and make my way over to the wall. As I sit I say to myself I need to stop the bleeding. I rip the sleeve of my shirt and press it to my side. I need to come up with a plan. I pat my pocket feeling for my wand but it is gone. I find myself cursing and hitting my head against the wall. What am I going to do know? No wand, no plan, and bleeding to death...

I do not know how long I was in the room alone before two people stepped into the room and beat me around. I'd fight but it is no use, I have lost a lot of blood and am very week. In desperation I cry, "Just kill me!"

They give a cold laugh and continue the beating until I black out.

I wake once more but find myself in a different room; some sort of meeting room and I was laid across the table. I try to lift my self up but I wince as I realize I have a cracked rib or two. The wound on my side was not getting better and I could feel my strength dwindling. I have failed. He has won. He will torture me until I die. The door behind me burst open and I creek my neck to see who has entered. It is him. "Enjoying your nap Harry?" he says, throwing something at me.

It was my wand. I scramble to grab it as it rolls down the table. "Come Harry we shall finish this now," it says, drawing his wand to me.

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