67 For the night is dark and full of terrors

AN: This chapter is pretty dark: several mention of rape, unsavory language... You have been warned.

"Come one, mate!" Ron whined. "We've been sitting here for two bloody hours on a Saturday night! We've already finished all our homework, and read some book about potions! If I spend one more minute here, I'm gonna go nuts!"

Harry rolled his eyes for the thousandth time. He somehow succeeded in convincing Ron to come with them to the library, but he failed spectacularly at getting him to shut his mouth, though he'd still take it as a win. He needed to deal with Ron's laziness one step at a time.

"Alright, fine." Harry finally conceded. "But we're coming back tomorrow, and I won't take no for an answer." Ron pouted at that, but agreed nevertheless.

"The boys are gathered in our room tonight." Ron said excitedly. "If we hurry, we can still catch up for the last few games." Harry nodded.

As Harry roamed the dimly lit corridors, he wondered why on earth they still used lanterns at Hogwarts', the world's supposedly best educational institution. He knew for a fact there were better ways to do so, but then, he remembered Wizards' fear of change, and their uncanny desire to live in the stone age. It really gave off haunted castle vibes, especially since it was in fact haunted by ghosts. He wondered why the British wizards never thought to renovate this place. He'd have to ask Kaiser about it, though Kaiser was unavailable at the moment.

Thanks to his penchant to ask questions, and the recent habit of reading books he picked up from Hermione, he knew that wizards could build structure muggles were incapable of making. The burrow was one such example, though that house was more the result of bad engineering, or absence thereof. He read about Beauxbatons and its marble floors, its majestic gardens and the fountain that stood in the name of the world's most famous alchemist, Nicolas Flamel and his wife Prenelle. Hogwarts founders were obviously not inclined towards aesthetics, since some of the classrooms were, in fact, in a dungeon.

"Come one mate, move it." Ron complained, interrupting him out of his musing. It seems he was going too slow, so he picked up the pace.

Harry was suddenly struck with an unpleasant feeling of foreboding. He had no idea why, he felt something was definitely wrong. His stomach twisted around itself, and his head was hurting. Light seemed to be fading out to black. He panicked. He tried to speak, but couldn't get a single word out. He tried to turn, to check on Ron. That's when it hit him. He couldn't move at all. The only thing he could move were his eyes, and his could make the hazy silhouette of his friend at the edge of his vision.

Footsteps could be heard approaching, but to him, it was like the person was stomping on his chest with every step. He could feel his strength leaving him, but for some reason, he remained standing. The footsteps were getting closer and closer; multiple people, unless his ears were playing tricks on him.

"What do we have here…" the voice sounded like the most sinister thing he'd ever heard. It reminded him of his nightmares for some reason, but he knew this was no dream. "A blood traitor, and… the boy-who-lived." He was now face to face with his assailant, and if his facial muscles could move, shock would've been his defining feature. 'Malfoy!'

"A shame your mudblood whore isn't here with you." He smirked. "Would've loved ruining her in front of you. Make sure she's as bushy down there, if you know what I mean…." He would obviously would do no such thing. The rape scandal from two years ago had alerted all kinds of wrong people. As a matter of fact, the rapist student never made it to Azkaban, but was found dead in his holding cell. Of course, it never made it to the news, but everyone who mattered was informed of it. It was a warning, obviously, but these two didn't need to know that, which would make their words even more threatening to them.

Harry and Ron were enraged. Had they not been bound, they would've launched their most deadly spells at his smug face. Alas, tonight they were helplessly standing there, unable to lift a single finger.

"Don't let all those titles get to your head, mudblood." Draco said venomously. "If it wasn't for your whore of a mother, using a sacrificial ritual to save you, you'd both be dead right now." He then smiled. "Not that it matters very much, the Dark Lord will be back after all. It is only a matter of time."

"Now, what shall we do with you…"

The enmity between Ron and Malfoy began years ago. He was there in half of the skirmishes with harry, and would just laugh with impunity.

Malfoy was an elitist by nature and Ron was the embodiment of mediocrity, someone who was not even worth his time, yet he couldn't help but get pissed off by his attitude and look.

"Get away from him" Harry cursed internally, Malfoy was seemingly in thought and stood between the two friends.

*HIIIIIIIISS- thwak* Harry could only guess what was happening behind him, his eyes getting bloodshot by the second. He could hear Ron's whimpers yet was incapable of moving an inch.

Screaming inwardly, he couldn't believe what was happening right now, Malfoy was silent occasionally cursing, he was seemingly enjoying this more than ever. *THUD* Harry shuddered, he couldn't hear anything anymore as Ron's whimpers died down, and the rest was left to his imagination.

He felt a snake like entity squirming to find it's way around his neck enveloping it. Soon it wasn't just around it but inside; Harry wanted to scream yet nothing came out his breath itself got more ragged he soon would choke from asphyxia.

Malfoy finally stepped in front of him his face revealing nothing but a sinister grin.

"Phantasma"

Harry's mind was on edge and his helplessness soon felt his whole-body sweating, he knew that Malfoy wouldn't kill him, not at Hogwarts, yet he really felt a sense of deadly crisis filling his soul.

"All for the big star of Hogwarts. Your kind disgusts me, mudblood."

Harry's mind was filled with mist, yet he could hear Malfoy very distinctively, the effects of the curse made him shudder and his body was forced to kneel.

The snake was still making his way inside of Harry as it shrank in size, yet it was big enough to move everything in its way. Harry's face was shifting to different colors, while Malfoy only kept looking with a grin on his face.

This was unlike him. Until this year the two fought countless times but most of it was just childish pranks.

Harry was even suspecting that this was not the Draco Malfoy he knew, the one in front of him was too ruthless filling Harry's mind with fear.

The charm was yet starting to take effect, n soon every muscle in Harry's body was aching, in his eyes all he could see was mindless murder and horrific scenes of torture and rape.

The worst part was that he wasn't the subject of said obscenities but the perpetrator, what made it worst was that what he was seeing was psychological no efforts in moving his eyes away could work and even less closing them.

Malfoy assisted to the development of Harry's state, a hint of scorn long ago replaced his grin.

The cries, the blood and the filth that was around Harry couldn't amount to anything he has ever seen, his mind on the verge of breaking he could pass out yet the snake in his chest was now tightening around his heart, he could feel each individual cold scale digging slowly on his flesh.

Long ago he was shivering from the fact that his friend was being attacked behind him, he was furious but helpless, yet now his mind was under constant attack by all kinds of pain that his brain stopped thinking, he forgot about Ron and it was then that his eyes focused again on his surroundings.

Shaking slightly, he could feel that the bones of his left arm were shattered. As more of the mist cleared out, Harry made out the shape of none other than Ron holding his wand with complete contempt on his face.

All the frustration and pain he accumulated suddenly flared up and he was once again immersed in his visions.

Now he wasn't the perpetrator, but the subject he was being dragged in the alleys of the school, the feeling of the rough earth was so vivid that it made him gasp for air yet still nothing entered.

Soon he got to see who was dragging him and it was Dumbledore. Harry knew what he was going to experience when they stop, if the visions weren't perverse enough, he would never recover if these visions happened.

"Shit, someone's coming!" He heard a panicked voice, most likely one of Malfoy's goons. "Run!" his vision suddenly came back, and could see the blond bastard running away. Whatever was holding him in place seemed to dispel, as he suddenly got his control over his limbs back. He dropped on the ground on his shoulder, whimpering in pain. He could hear whispers, but knew not whom they came from. The colors seemed to be fading, before unconsciousness claimed him.