'Ugh. What? What's going on?' were Harry's first censored and barely coherent thoughts as he woke to darkness. What he was really thinking involved a lot more cursing and groaning and some yawning that sounded like a bear awakening from hibernation. As Harry woke up, the lingering effects of his slight potion addiction left him, leaving him more aware of what was around him in light of the empty feeling of withdrawal.

The first thing he tried to figure out was why everything was so dark, which quickly answered itself as he got up and a pillow that he had buried his head under fell to the side. This, of course made no sense to him, seeing as the last thing he remembered was trying to get back to the tower before he cra...oh. He realized he must have passed out in the corridor because of the potion's rather unfortunate side affects. But that still failed to explain how he got on a bed in a room that he had never seen before. This room was largely dominated by the bed he was sitting on, which had dark satin sheets and pillows; the rest of the rather large room was covered by a dark mahogany wardrobe, a plush black leather settee, a wooden ottoman, and a large onyx marble fireplace. Three walls were lined with books, the last a wall of windows, with two doors the only things disturbing the walls of books.

'First things first: where is my wand?' Said wand was currently at least 3 levels beneath Harry, but he had no way of knowing that. So he did the first thing that came to his mind.

"Accio wand." He whispered to the empty room because being in an unfamiliar place, uninvited at that, always seemed to call for whispering. Nothing happened. Harry tried the summoning charm once more for good measure with the same results. He finally gave up that route, seeing that it would get him nowhere. He decided to look around a bit.

The books Harry perused were all nonfiction, moldy tomes and Harry assumed the rest were the same. The fire place had fresh chopped wood resting in it, but there were no matches that Harry could find and, without a wand, it didn't seem like he's be able to enjoy some time by the fire soon. Out of curiosity, he checked the chimney, but he found, to his dismay, it was too small for even a scrawny boy like himself to shimmy up and escape.

The mahogany wardrobe was found to be filled with clothes, all dark and made of sooth fabrics that felt nice and soft on his hands. Mostly there were cloaks and standard clothing that was just a little nicer than regular fodder the average Joe could afford. Harry shut the wardrobe, less than interested, and moved to the windows. He traced the panes of glass, but found no seam or opening to be had. This was when it first occurred to Harry that he might be among enemies. Though the room was nice, and he hadn't accounted for any bodily harm on his person upon waking, there was nothing familiar here or in the landscape beyond the windows and he was confused. Had he been kidnapped?

Slightly panicked, he threw open the first door his fingers touched and found himself standing on the threshold of a generously sized, posh marble bathroom, complete with an ornate, sunken bathtub. Not deeply impressed by this particular expression of wealth, he closed the door and moved to the next one. With his heart hammering against his ribs in terrified anticipation, he reached his fingertips out to the shiny golden knob and was shocked. Literally. A bold of electricity moved up his arm and spread through his body, setting his already mussed hair on end.

"Ow! What the fuck is wrong with this thing?" Normally he didn't curse, being the golden-boy of Gryffindor, but damn! That had hurt! Both hand and pride hurt by the shocking door knob, Harry decided there was definitely not among friends. Now truly frightened, he moved back over to the windows and looked at the ottoman, contemplating the chances of being able to use it to break the window, creating his own escape route.

Part of him loved the idea if only for its distinct muggle feel that always made him feel superior to the more racist pureblood families with their sheltered children who wouldn't be able to fight their way out of a cardboard box without a wand. A more rational part of Harry told him that it was bloody stupid, it would never work, and there was no way he could jump from such a high window anyway, without suffering damages.

Impulsive Harry promptly punched Rational Harry on the nose. Without another thought towards the consequences, he hefted the ottoman over his head and was preparing to throw it at the window with all of his might when the soft click of a door opening behind him caught his attention. Turnign around sharply, Harry saw none other than Snape entering the room through the shocking door, softly closing it behind him.

Harry, still slightly delirious from the shock, started firing off questions at him.

"Snape! What are you doing here? What is this place? Why am I here? Why didn't that stupid door shock you? And...what's that in your hand?"

Snape, who was quite irate from the constant questions and Harry's presence in general, scowled at him. "That is Professor Snape to you, Mr. Potter. Ten points from Gryffindor. What this place is and why you are here is not knowledge that you are privy to. Now, put down the ottoman, it won't break that glass no matter how hard you throw it."

"Um, okay." Harry agreed, suspicious, and set the ottoman back on the ground before perching on it curiously. "What's that in your hand?" Harry asked, pointing to a small, smocking glass Snape was holding.

"Again this is not knowledge that you are privy to," Snape smirked. "I suggest you drink it without a fight."

"Wait! Wait! Aren't you supposed to find out if I'm on any other potion? You know, for safety purposes?" Harry asked quickly, beginning to doubt for possibly the millionth time whose side Snape was truly on.

Snape hardly controlled the impulse to roll his eyes at the panicked boy. "First, I don't care about your safety or well-being. Second, according to the school's medical records, you're not on any potions regularly, however, your concern surprises me and I feel compelled to ask if you are taking potions that are strictly prescribed." His eyes glinted dangerously.

Harry flinched. On one hand, he didn't want to get in trouble. On the other hand, getting in trouble didn't really matter if the potions mixed strangely and caused him to die or something. "Maybe…." He hedged and blinked innocently at Snape.

"Do not lie to me, you brat! What potion are you taking?" Snape demanded, stomping forward.

"Er...Rhender's Draught?" Harry took on a guilty look.

Snape raised a brow. "So that's how you've been keeping up lately. Unfortunately for you, if Rhender's Draught is taken while under the affects of this potion, it will drive you insane almost instantaneously."

"What? No way am I taking it!" Harry protested, rising to his feet.

Snape sneered, "You will take it whether you take it willingly or I have to force it down your throat."

"No! I'm not going to stop taking the Draught!" Harry insisted, moving around the ottoman to put space between Snape and himself.

Cue eye twitch. "Very well then, Mr. Potter. Stupefy!"

The last thing harry felt was Snape opening his mouth, forcing the potion into it, and massaging his throat. Once again, everything went dark.

"Well done Severus." A voice from the doorway spoke with an amused, hissing undertone.Snape quickly dropped to his knees upon hearing his master's voice. "Events have been sent into motion."

"My Lord?" Snape inquired, for once, not knowing what exactly his master was planning.

"Nothing, Severus. That will be all." Voldemort dismissed him, knowing Snape was fishing for answers and not liking it at all.

"Yes, my Lord," Snape said as he bowed and left the room quickly, with only a single glance back before his closed the door behind him once again.

Voldemort waited until he was gone to move towards the bed where Snape had moved Harry after the young boy had lsot consciousness. As Voldemort examined Harry, still in his Hogwarts robes and wearing a peaceful, drowsy expression of perfect innocence, he pulled the sheets and comforter over the small teenager.

"Soon, my little one, you will be mine. And the light will fall before us."

Voldemort left the room, turning all the lights out with a flick of his wrist, leaving the room bathed in moonlight, the only sound was of a small frog out in the distance.