It's All Just Temporary with a Bit of Necromancy

Chapter 3: No Matter What You Choose

No Matter What You Choose

There had been three more torture sessions since Ron and Hermione had visited him. The last one ending a couple of hours ago. So Harry guessed it had only really been a day since the visit. Harry still wasn't sure what to think of that meeting. They had seemed sincere and horrified at what they had discovered. Hermione had finally told him what the mark on his chest meant which was apparently the reason for all of this. He was a Necromancer and so was assumed Dark. His best friends had sworn to stand by him, they had explained how they tried to contact him over the summer but how Dumbledore had thwarted their attempts. They had promised to help free him.

Harry just hoped he could trust them. He desperately wanted to. If Ron and Hermione ended up betraying him like Dumbledore, Harry didn't think he'd be able to handle it. He was sure that would be his breaking point. Now, he just had to wait for them to come through.

He coughed and felt it wrack his chest, causing his muscles to clench in pain. Harry didn't know how much longer he'd be able to withstand this treatment. He was sure he already had a cold on top of everything else from being in a dank, cold dungeon in just his boxers for who knows how long.

Some way to kick off being sixteen, he thought miserably. He heard the door creak open and light footsteps patter down. So it wasn't an adult. Harry had already started memorizing the footsteps of his torturers. He felt a flicker of hope rise within his chest which only flared higher when a Lumos was cast and he saw Hermione and Ron.

"We don't have much time," Hermione hissed, pulling out her wand. "Ginny is guarding the door and the twins are ready to apparate you out of here. Ready?"

Harry could only give a jerk of his head, Hermione seemed to take that as a yes and began casting some spells. Harry wasn't sure what the spells were since he couldn't hear her murmured words but he could see their effects. The ropes holding him to the chair fell away and two of the bars broke off and clattered to the ground but there was no noise when the bars hit the stone. Ron rushed forward and gathered Harry in his arms, scooping him up like a bride. Harry felt like he should protest but given how he doubted he could stand and his voice protested words, he allowed it to happen. Hermione led the way up the stairs with Ron following. Ginny opened the door for them, holding a bag full of something that Harry didn't know and was too exhausted to care. The youngest Weasley gasped at his appearance in her brothers' arms but beside her eyes widening, she said nothing.

"Harry, the twins are going to take you with them. This bag is full of potions and some spare clothes," Hermione explained as Ginny handed the bag to a twin while Ron passed Harry into the other twins' arms. Ron and Hermione then passed their borrowed wands to the appropriate twin.

Harry hoarsely protested the treatment but they all ignored him. "Stay safe, Harry. We are with you. No matter what you choose," Ron said, staring into Harry's eyes with an odd sense of solemnity that sent a shiver up his spine. He felt like he was missing something very important but was too exhausted to figure out what. Instead, he just gave a small nod, that seemed to satisfy Ron because he stepped back and let his brothers step out the door. Harry felt the breath of a summers night breeze brush across his skin and felt himself relax slightly before the twin holding him disapparated and the squeezing sensation of being sucked through a vacuum disrupted the breath.

If he had eaten at all in the past few days, Harry was sure he would have thrown up when they arrived where ever they were. As it was, he had nothing to throw up and was barely conscious as he felt the twin holding him gently lower him onto something soft. Harry was fairly certain it was a bed.

"Alright, mate, take some of these. Hermione's orders. They will help, promise," one of the twins whispered, holding a vial to his lips and a hand on the back of his head to hold it up. Harry couldn't even protest and dutifully drank the potions pressed to his lips. He counted four before he was lowered down again and left to slip into sleep.