Chapter 18: Torture!
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It seemed as though he had underestimated just how much power it would take though, for he found his reserves of energy were drained and he wasn't able to throw himself out of the way of a the next spell.
Instead a wave of invisible force smashed him into the wall, and he slumped to the floor, his wand barely in his grip.
"Expelliarmus," the final Russian hissed, rage for his dead friends burning in his eyes as he caught Harry's wand, the instrument of his comrades' demise.
"I think I'll have some fun with you before I hand you in, child. Torture is illegal, after all. Stupefy."
Harry could do nothing as darkness rushed up to claim him, drowning out the noises of the world and Loki's distressed cries alike.
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As Harry came into consciousness, he was momentarily confused as to where he was, why he was sleeping standing up, and why there were metal cuffs around each wrist.
'You were captured,' Loki reminded rather unhelpfully.
Harry looked around. He appeared to be in a basement or some other kind of underground facility.
The room's only light was provided by a candle burning dimly opposite Harry from which he deduced that he was in the house of a wizard. He released a sigh of relief.
This was possibly one of the luckiest things to happen to him in years. If the man hadn't sought to torture him, he would instead be in the Russian Ministry of Magic from which escape would be far more difficult – that was if he hadn't already been executed for murder.
Cool steel bit into his wrists, the handcuffs attached to a pipe behind him and stopping him from falling to the ground.
A dirty rag was in his mouth, and Harry felt a shudder of disgust run through him. He called up his magic and pushed outwards with it – and then gasped in pain.
The handcuffs were somehow restraining his mortal magic. That wasn't too much of a problem, however. He had trained for such an instance.
As he had done with Loki all those years ago, he projected his mind inwards, staring upon his magical energies.
The ball of gold, blue, and white writhed, attempting to escape a cage of foreign energy.
The white part was all that was actually trapped, but it was clinging onto the others. With carefulness aided by Loki, Harry forced the white energy from the rest.
Agony shot through him as it had when he had trained for an instance such as this, and he was suddenly glad for the gag, it muffling his scream.
That would take a while to recover from. He had effectively purged all the mortal magic from his body as though he had expended all of it at once in a battle.
Luckily, Asgardian and Jotun magic would be more than enough for him to escape.
He pushed his will upon the handcuffs and ice slowly spread though them. After ten seconds or so, they were frozen to the point where Harry could pour his magic into enhancing his strength and shatter them, magically enhanced or not.
He did just that, and fell into a crouch as the pieces fell to the floor, sounding like broken glass.
Tearing the rag from his mouth, he surveyed the room for his belongings before making his way up the stone stairs. At the top was a door, and when he pulled the handle it didn't budge. He cursed.
Breaking it down would probably alert anyone in the building, but this was his only option. An illusion of silence wouldn't work seeing as he couldn't see the other side of the door.
Taking a few steps back, Harry charged himself on Asgardian energy, and then kicked just left of the doorknob, suddenly glad he had been left with his shoes and other clothes – another stupid move from his captor.
And then he kicked the door again, and then again.
On the fourth kick, the door flew open and Harry dashed from the room, freezing cold energy already surging through his veins and gathering in his palms.
A crimson spell lashed forward and Harry dived under it, rolling to his feet as it crashed against the wall behind him.
Cold ecstasy coming over him as he prepared to attack, Harry thrust his hands forward. A shield of ice formed in front of him, blocking another red spell.
An icicle followed his shield, blasting from Harry's grip and shattering against an opponent's shield as a panicked voice yelled a shielding charm. A woman'svoice.
Harry threw himself to the side, dodging a bolt of sickly yellow that came from behind him.
Why had he assumed that the man had lived alone?! He sprinted and skidded under a table, noticing that he appeared to be in a dining room.
A banishing charm flipped his cover over after a second, but that short time gave Harry a few moments to turn and analyse his surroundings.
As he had already noticed, he was a dining room. The one who he had not recognized as a female stood near the centre of the room, though a second figure – probably the man who had captured Harry with the promise of torture – stood in the corner which had been on Harry's right as he entered the room.
When his cover was banished, Harry was already surging forward. Two colourful spells were sent flying towards him, and he ducked under both, running at the women for a moment before darting towards the man.
He clearly hadn't been expecting it, but managed to put up a shield just before an icicle hit him in the chest.
What his shield didn't block, however, was Harry sliding across the ground and colliding with his feet, knocking him to the ground.
Confident that the women couldn't fire any spells in fear of hitting the man, Harry engaged the man in wrestling.
The wizard, untrained in hand-to-hand combat and slightly weaker than his opponent, didn't stand a chance as Harry caught his fist and squeezed it.
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