Princeps by Lomonaaeren

Chapter 4

They land in an oddly-shaped cell, or rather, Voldemort lands on the lip of a ledge above him, and Harry crashes down into a capsule-shaped lower stone chamber. He groans as his head bounces off the wall. The stone is so tight around his body, made to fit him, that he can't even move his arms to draw his wand or get a surprise out of his robes.

"Made to fit you, Professor Salvare." Voldemort cackles at him and leans against the wall behind him. They appear to be at the bottom of a giant stone well, since Harry can see a glimpse of daylight far above him. "You did me more favors than you knew by taking Lucius Malfoy's allegiance from me. I ripped all sorts of information out of his head, including detailed memories."

Legilimency. Damn it. I thought Lucius's Occlumency was strong enough, but it wouldn't have been able to stand up to a determined assault from someone so strong.

Harry ignores Voldemort and concentrates on his bond to Lucius. It's quiescent, which probably means Lucius is unconscious, but still there. He sighs. The muted jangling from earlier makes sense now. Voldemort probably learned about some of the effects of the oaths from Lucius's memories, so he acted carefully to avoid putting Lucius in danger that would have alerted Harry.

At least that means that Lucius is probably wounded in a way he can recover from.

"Pay attention to me."

"I don't see a reason to," Harry says honestly. "I know that you brought me here to kill me or torture me. Or kill me after torturing me. You're not going to say anything interesting."

Voldemort stares at him with his eyes widening further and further, and then he grips his wand and points it at him. Harry braces himself for the Cruciatus.

Instead, Voldemort lowers his wand. "I wish you to tell me where you learned Parseltongue."

"No."

Voldemort nods as if he expected the answer, and then turns and gestures with his wand towards the stone wall. Harry expects the alcove that opens to reveal some kind of gleaming torture instruments.

It doesn't. Instead, it shows Lucius on a flat pallet, his arms and legs bound to the point that he won't be able to move any more than Harry can and his hand bare of his ring. Harry tenses and instinctively lunges for him, but the press of the stone trap around his body holds him in place.

"Yes, I thought that would get you," Voldemort says, in English this time. "Such a weakness, to be bound to the ones who follow you." His eyes glint, and he smiles. "My way is a much better one of handling it."

"When it makes your followers as eager to turn on you as Lucius was? When it makes people fight to swear to me instead of going to you?" Harry laughs. He doesn't mind saying this, now that Voldemort definitely knows that Lucius is no longer a Death Eater. "No, I don't see it as a weakness at all."

Voldemort's humor flees. He stalks forwards to the edge of the stone he stands on, and hisses threateningly, "You will tell me where you learned Parseltongue, or I will torture him."

The oath leaps between Harry and Lucius like a living thing, anticipating pain. Harry bites his tongue to curb the words he wants to say to Voldemort, and instead simply says, "I've had Parseltongue ever since I can remember. I didn't learn it. I can just speak it." There, that's all true, and will sound so to Voldemort's Legilimency.

Voldemort stares at him in silence, eyes tracing back and forth as if thinks there's a secret map to another answer behind Harry's face. Harry, meanwhile, relaxes as much as he can and reaches out for his other followers.

It's going to be hard, from a distance, and with so many of them asleep. But he has to. He has to rescue Lucius, and he has to get out of here, and he can't use Lucius's magic when he's unconscious and can't willingly open the bond from his side.