Hey:)

I was just inspired to write this, and if you want me to continue, just review :)

Aisling Aberdyfi xx

Harry writhed in pain, and thrashed on the cold floor. Curses hit him from all sides, and cold laughter resonated through the room. Hurt seared through his body, and he shook in agony. He suppressed his cries, as not to encourage his tormentors.

After a while, the curses died down. Harry's face was pressed down onto the stone, and his glasses were crooked. He brought a shaky hand to his head, and felt something warm and sticky. Blood. His arm could not hold it's self up much longer, and it slumped to the floor. Bellatrix was cackling in the background, reveling in the fact she had taken down The Boy Who Lived. Harry struggled to keep awake, to gather enough strenghth to get up and run, however, the comfort of sleep was too tempting, and Harry was lead into the darkness.

Harry was awoken with a jolt, and opened his eyes to find The Dark Lord sitting in an armchair across the room. He instictively scrambled to his feet and moved back against the wall, to Voldemort's amusement. He chuckled, if thats even possible, and gracefully got to his feet.

"Ah...The Boy Who Lived." Harry nodded slowly, and clenched his fists. He would not show any weakness. Not today.

"Voldemort." He replied clearly, hiding the fear in his voice. The Dark Lord inclined his head. He advanced towards Harry, while he pressed himself further into the wall. Harry began to shake with terror.

"You know why you're here, Potter." Harry blinked. Voldemort was close, and Harry could feel his cold breath on his neck. He shuddered.

"I'm sorry, I don't, Riddle." Harry retorted quietly. Voldemort glared, but quickly composed himself. He strode away, hands clasped behind his back.

"You could be my equal, Harry." Harry shifted uncomfortably.

"You forget Tom, you've already marked me as your equal." He pushed his fringe up and gestured towards his scar. Harry could see the anger bubbling below the surface. The Dark Lord turned abrubtly, and moved with great speed towards Harry. Harry jumped back against the wall and threw his hands down by his sides. Voldemort was so close, Harry could not breathe. He raised his hand and ran a finger across Harry's scar. He flinched.

"Harry, you must learn to respect your master." He hissed. "I shall return later in the evening, to teach you a lesson." And he swept out of the room, his black robes flying behind him.

Harry fell to the ground, his sore legs collapsing beneath him. His body ached, and screamed at him. Only then did he allow the tears to fall, to take hold of him, and shake his frail frame. He was trapped, and there was no way out. Harry hugged his arms around himself, and longed for the comforting arms of Ron and Hermione.

"Crucio!" He snarled, tilting his wand to Harry's head, hate showing through his cold eyes. The curses hit him like bullets, and Harry refused to beg for mercy, which provoked Voldemort further. Harry's body convulsed, and his insides cried out. His side was slammed into the wall, causing many bones to crack, and shatter inside him. It was then that he cried out for mercy, and to make it all stop. Harry waited for the next string of curses for being weak, but none came.

"I think you've learnt your lesson, Potter." He whispered, smoothing Harry's hair. He jerked out of Voldemorts grip, shocked at the touch. The Dark Lord smirked, and retreated, holding his hands up to him. He made a sign to the door, and a Death Eater approached.

"Eat, Harry." A bowl of broth was placed in front the teenager, along with a spoon. It was regarded with a skeptic look, and Voldemort gestured for Harry to go on. He gingerly raised a spoon to his lips, and with a quick glance to the Dark Lord, he swallowed. "It'll do you good, my boy." He annouced in a fairly good imitation of the headmaster.

The broth warmed Harry's stomach, but left his mouth feeling sour. He had given in. Once the first spoonful had gone down, Harry could not stop. The small bowl was empty in a mere 20 seconds. Voldemort smirked, and glowed in victory, whilst Harry sunk in defeat.

"Shall we revisit to my previous offer?" said Voldemort, "Any thoughts?" Harry ducked his head. If he said no, another string of curses would be thrown his way. The teenager sighed; The Boy Who Lived has to make sacrifices.

"I will never join you, Riddle." Harry replied simply. Voldemort suppressed his anger, but fingered his wand, as if ready to strike. "You're evil." Voldemort began to pace.

"I have told you before, there is so such thing as good and evil, only power, and those too weak to seek it." said Voldemort, "You have that power, and I am wiling to help you wield it Harry." Harry couldn't deny he was tempted, but when he remembered that it was Voldemort who would teach him, he shoved the thought out of his mind. He hung his head, and brought his knees up to his chest.

"I don't want that." The Dark Lord exited the room as grandly as he'd entered. A bolt slid across the door, and clanged. And once again, Harry was alone.