Areas of Expertise

-- Oh you guys! I laughed so much at all the reviewers who complained I'd left it on a cliffie! You're lucky I updated today, cos I wasn't sure I could write this chapter. It's not dark enough yet, so it will be revised at some point.

--Bored137654: Glad I've bee of service, hope you feel better.

--Jilliane/Pinktarg/GWeasley - hope you're all happier with this update, although there is again a cliffie!

AthenaMalfoy: Glad you're still liking.

Kirraluv - send em to a circus. Now THAT is my idea of scary. Clowns totally freak me out!

-- I found the quotation after I wrote the chapter, but it's frighteiningly accurate. SP



Chapter Twenty-Nine –



“Pain forces even the innocent to lie.” Publilius Syrus



***



Harry struggled futilely, caught as he was between the two men. Laughing cruelly they threw him roughly onto the floor. Panicked, the boy curled an arm over his swollen belly to protect it. He lay on his side, making himself as small as possible, wishing he hadn’t been so stupid.



A burning pain stabbed through his scar. A vague hissing filled his ears.



“Ahhhh, Harry Potter.” It was Lord Voldemort, tall, slender, malevolent. He spoke softly, with just the faintest suggestion of a snake’s hiss under his words. His red eyes were cold and filled with triumph.



Harry gritted his teeth hard together, determined not to scream as the pain in his head built.



“And, of course, your child.” He leaned down and placed a skeletal hand over the Gryffindor’s stomach. His grey skin scarcely covered his bones, and his long sharp nails made his digits seem even longer than they truly were.



Harry was sure he’d felt a tooth crack at that contact; his head was ready to explode. He blinked blood out of his eyes.



“What sssshall I do with you?” Voldemort asked. He tapped at his thin lips with one finger, eyes thoughtful. “Perhapssss I can persssssuade you to tell me who the father isssss.”



Harry choked out, “No.”



Around him the Death Eaters who had gathered shifted slightly. They all kept close to the walls of the room. It looked like a prison cell, but instead of bars, the walls were made of stone with strange instruments and chains dangling from the brick work.



“Prepare him.” Voldemort ordered suddenly and stepped back to allow the same two Death Eaters close again. The dragged Harry up and turned him to face the cold wall. He struggled uselessly, fighting down bile. He was hauled into position and fastened securely with metal cuffs and chains.



Thick cuffs encircled his wrists, and there was a painfully tight metal collar about his throat. He was pinned up, a helpless butterfly surrounded by cruel hawks, toes scrabbling for a hold on the flag stones.



“Now, we ssssshall ssssee.” Voldemort hissed and delicately brought his wand to bear against Harry’s back.



He said the next word calmly. “Crucio.”


Harry shrieked, back arching away from the source of the agony. He yelled and twisted, his footing lost as he wept helplessly and begged for mercy. His muscles spasmed as each wave of the curse washed over him. He was dying. He couldn’t bear this. He couldn’t.



“Tell me.” Voldemort ordered, wand shifting to press between the boy’s shoulder blades.



Harry screamed over and over, until his throat was hoarse. This was it. This was how he was going to die, tortured by Voldemort for Snape.



“Tell me.” The voice insisted as the wand made its slow burning way down Harry’s spine until it rested against his buttocks.



Harry’s stomach churned. The baby was kicking and fighting against the torment. Harry jerked away from the wand tip. If he could just be free of pain for a few seconds, just be allowed to think…



“Tell me.” The voice repeated, beginning to sound annoyed, and the pain Harry felt increased ten fold.



“Please,” he whispered, throat sore from shouting. “I’ll tell you. Just make it stop.” He panted for breath, his cheeks soaked with his tears and the blood from his bleeding scar.



“Ahhhhhh.” Voldemort exhaled and lifted his wand away.



Harry hung limply in his bindings, too hurt to even feel the stiffness in his strained arms, or the blood that was coming from his neck, where he had rubbed himself raw against the metal.



“Dumbledore.” He choked out. “It was Dumbledore.”



Voldemort hissed in surprise and anger. “Tell the truth!” He yelled, voice forceful. “He would never have impregnated you.”



“He … he has a plan.” Harry gasped out, still struggling to breathe. “He knew you’d capture me and …” he coughed before continuing, “…so he had plans in place. Snape was going to help him.”



Voldemort’s harsh laugh filled the room, echoing off the stone. “Snape? That foolish old man believes Snape is his loyal spy?” He spun around and grabbed his nearest Death Eater. Voldemort touched his wand to the arm, the wood dug in to the Dark Mark burned into the man’s skin.



***



“AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” Snape clutched his arm and dropped to the floor.



Concerned students surrounded him, but, with gritted teeth, Severus stood up, gasping a little.



Dumbledore raised an eyebrow, his face worried.



“He wants me.” Snape said. He was horribly afraid. Everyone who had seen Harry vanish knew it had been a Death Eater attack. Harry had been missing nearly an hour – plenty of time for Voldemort to have killed him.



Dumbledore’s face was drawn and haggard. He nodded. “Perhaps he wants you there to torture Harry. You must go.”



Severus strode off, terrified that his partner was already dead.



***



“We shall soon see.” Voldemort said as they waited for Severus to arrive. Whilst he did so he contemplated the boy. The lad was really far too smooth – he would look much better with some scars. His sharp fingers ripped Harry’s t-shirt from his body.



He pressed one digit against the smooth skin – slowly, steadily increasing the pressure until he broke through and drew blood.



Harry stifled a sob.



Voldemort tore his nail across, cutting the boy open, enjoying the deep redness that welled out of the narrow slit.



Harry snuffled, chest heaving with suppressed cries.



“My Lord.” It was Severus. He sent not a look towards Harry. Had he done so he knew his emotions would have flared out, and Voldemort would’ve known everything.



“Ah, my Severus.” Voldemort withdrew his finger, leaving a throbbing fire across Harry’s back.



The Dark Lord waited whilst Snape slipped to his knees and kissed the hem of the wizard’s cloak.



“My Lord, you summoned me?” He stood up and, at last, glanced at the boy.



“He has told me fascinating news, Severus, concerning the father of the child. I am unsure that he is telling the truth, however, and therefore wish you to administer some of your excellent Veritaserum.”



Severus nodded and reached into his robes for a small bottle.



Harry moaned and begged. “No, I told you the truth. I did. He’ll … He’ll poison me.”



Voldemort laughed. “Foolish child. You think it matters? Once I have the confirmation I will kill you myself. I shall enjoying ripping the child from your body and watching you bleed to death.”



Harry sobbed brokenly.



Severus’ hands shook ever so slightly as he gripped Harry’s jaw and forced Veritaserum down.



A strong hand clamped over his mouth and another pinched his nose until he had definitely swallowed the liquid.



Voldemort hissed in pleasure. “And now,” he said gleefully, “tell me truly: who fathered your child?”



-- Hee hee! *rubs hands in glee*

Harry: Are you channeling Snake features?

SP: Maybe.

Sev: That's it! Someone kill her. *pulls out wand (not that one you pervs!)*

Sp: Hey! If you kill me now, no one will ever know what happens between you too.

Harry: That's a good point Sev.

Sev: Stop calling me Sev!

Harry: Yeah, yeah.

SP: Hmm, I'd better write teh next chapter in case Sevvy changes his mind.

Sev: Call me Sevvy again and I'll crucio you!

SP: Eep!