Into the Arms of the Night

Prologue: Into My Enemy's Arms

Pain. Pure and undiluted agony was all he was aware of now and he had no idea how much time had passed since the last round of torture. He did not know how many hours he had endured this atrocious situation, but he did not care, nor did he feel inclined to look for answers if he managed to miraculously survive. If he did; all he wanted to do was to ensure that all of those who had condoned and allowed his torture in this hell of a place; that they were going to pay for it with their lives if they must.

Because his life would have been the cost, and a life for another life is a fair bargain in the eyes of wizard-kind. It had taken him a long time to acknowledge that notion and to accept the sentiment behind it. The Light side; it's leaders and his closest former companions had broken him; they had shattered him so fully and completely that even he had no desire to fight and to live any longer. Passage to the Void and to Death would be a blessing, and a welcome one now.

He only knew that his body was not fit to fight back now if he had wanted to nor was it functional for escaping in his state because his injuries were too numerous for him to move around much and also too severe for him to risk further injury if he dared to try to move, so he was quite aware that there would be no running away tonight for him.

He could vaguely feel the warmth of his blood pooling around him on the floor of his tiny room while a hazy cloud of dense black fog was surrounding his mind. Many of his bones were smashed or crushed, and his body had been bruised, lacerated, cut up, sold and raped to the highest bidder all for the drunken swine of a man who lived in this hell with him.

Harry Potter was a dispirited and subdued young man now; there was no return for the light's savior to the side he thought held his same wants and desires. There would be no beacon of hope for them to rally to when the time came. He would die tonight and to go like this; it made him want to snarl with anger and growl with fierceness had he the energy to even attempt it.

Except he did not...Naught but lethargy was set into his body now; the slow and gradual fading of light and sound as his life and energy were being drained away. He felt his magic being drawn back into the raw form it was naturally, and being taken back into the earth from wherever it had come from before it had been given to him.

Though Harry found that this slowness to his death was somewhat aggravating; it was as if some unseen hand was purposely slowing time or something around him to prevent his demise; to allow the chance for survival.

He grimaced to himself as the pain in his body surged; there had been no dark lord around to instigate his dire circumstances. No annoying death-munchers who followed the said lord for his power and attention. There were no professors around who have a hateful grudge against you for your father's past sins towards them and your mother's rejection of them.

No classmates who hate you simply because of what you symbolize to them. No scheming headmasters who were plotting how best to turn you into a weapon to kill what they saw as unfit to live in a world of Light.

No backstabbing former friends who had become like ice to you after recent events had taken place. No wary looks from others as your magic became more powerful; so much so that others felt it outside of the body and shuddered to be near it. Shuddered with either jealousy, desire, envy, or fear.  And there were no people who whispered about him perhaps being dark anyways.

No. None of those sorts of people were here and none were the cause of his predicament now. Oh, he knew that they had some blame in it; as they had decided to force him back here again and had all but ignored his pleas in the written letters he had sent, but Harry should have known better. He should have known to make his break for freedom and to hide. To escape days before now when it had become apparent that he could no longer rely on those he once would have.