The Divine Darkness

Chapter 34: I Can Taste it in Your Tears

Nothingness.

Harry squinted his eyes, feeling the claustrophobia. Something was over his head, cloth perhaps... a black cloth. It surrounded his head and cut off his breathing. Despite the fact he was sitting in an uncomfortable chair, the world was still spinning, still nauseating. His magic was just as shocked as it had been a few hours ago. Well. He assumed it was hours ago. He had no way to tell how long he'd been unconscious because he woke up just a few minutes ago with a bag over his head.

A tight string tied tightly around his neck, keeping the cloth securely around his head. Around him, he was aware of the excited buzz. Voices came out muffled and the presence of angry wizards surrounded him.

Where the bloody hell was he?

A man cleared his throat, successfully silencing the crowd. Harry tensed as two bodies stood on either side of him, placing their hands on his shoulders in a vice-like grip. He swore... when he got out of here, Snape was going to pay. And he was certain, that if he didn't get out alive, Tom would save Snape for last, treasuring the man's screams. But how would Tom know it was Snape?

Harry shut his eyes, trying to focus on Tom, on their connection. It was the first time Harry had done so willingly, Voldemort usually the one to do the contacting. But as he attempted to contact Tom, there was nothing but raw rage that met him. The Dark Lord was far too furious to contact.

"As many of you have learned, we have suffered a great loss yesterday." Rufus Scrimgeour. Harry tensed. He was in the Ministry. The enemy's hands. Bloody Snape. "With our losses, we have lost some very proud and honorable men. We have also, regrettably, lost a few Azkaban prisoners."

A few? More like... a good hundred.

"But like all things, it is darkest before the dawn. We have suffered losses, and we have endured the attacks of the dark. But we have gained our footing. We have become stronger, we have gathered together in this crisis. And with our unity, we have also gained the Dark Lord." Murmurs spread across the gathers and Harry sneered. "This here, is You-Know-Who's right hand man, the second Dark Lord. With this...this wizard in our custody, we believe we have a considerable advantage."

There was a slight pause before the string around his neck loosened harshly and the cloth was pulled from his head. Light assaulted him from the cameras as reporters all scrambled to catch his face. "Harrison Regulus Malfoy, a known follower of the Dark Lord. He is also guilty in the charges in the late Albus Dumbledore's death. His charges are also accountable for Neville Longbottom's kidnapping."

Harry slouched in his chair, brooding at the cameras in his direction. There weren't many people before him, only reporters and a few Ministry officials. But yet, there was one person that caught his eye. Neville Longbottom.

The last time Harry had seen the boy, he had been sitting in his own waste and barely alive. Voldemort and he had agreed on waiting to transfer the Horcrux inside Longbottom back into Tom. That was perhaps a big mistake. Because now; the Gryffindor was sitting with his grandmother and the Weasleys. Staring at him. Merlin... he looked different. No longer was he the fat boy, instead, he was tall and thin- the months as Voldemort's prisoner taking a toll on him. His dark brown hair was shaggy and in his face, covering the patch of absent skin on his forehead.

But that's not what caught Harry's attention. It was the way Longbottom stared at him; so maturely, so wisely, as if he'd grown up many years over his capture. Neville sneered at him, turning away from his stare.

"Where will you keep him, Minister?" A short and plump reporter asked, bringing Harry's attention away from the human Horcrux.

Rufus stood proud near the podium, his image reflecting power and confidence. Just seeing him, Harry knew the man was trying to project an image of hope, of success. This was all a political image. Wizards would see Harry captured and see the Minister's strong stance as indication that the light was no longer suffering. But Harry knew otherwise. The light couldn't be winning.