Untitled Part 1

55

Harry's POV:

Head spinning,

Palms aching,

Throat soaring,

Eyes fighting a battle to remain awoke,
But either way,
Darkness was the only thing surrounding me,
Even when my sight won the tussle.

Every last muscle in my body was struggling to make any sort of movement whatsoever, but that has been going on for the past several hours, and with that being it, I simply had no other choice than to just give up on my worn out state and do nothing—

Actually, there was one thing that kept me just a tad bit more heedful.

And that was the eager curiosity of the reason as to why I'm in this place; to be honest, I don't even know if this is a place or not because of the intoxicating aura, but either way, I need to know what's behind this—
Or shall I say,
Who.

I wasn't capable of seeing anything even when I opened my eyes, but one thing I know for a fact was that I was trapped, and I couldn't do anything about it.
My feet were unbelievably throbbing in a fusion of pain and discomfort, and therefore I bet on anything that my hands are not the only part of my body that are being tied up. I could feel the agony in which these ropes were inflicting on my flesh for the past hours.

Some people would say,

Use your voice,

Scream,

Scream for help,

But that's the thing,

I can't.

The metallic-like taste of some sort of dense tape was pressed in an utter uncomfortable way upon my mouth, hence robbing me of my own will to speak.

The thing that's going to sound really dumb at that moment was that I was feeling just a tad bit thankful that I was at least seated on some chair.
That's how low the bar has gotten.

And now,

All I was capable of doing was waiting,

Funny right?

I have no other option whatsoever than to loiter for what's about to come next,

Or once again,

Shall I say,

Who's about to come.

I thought every last thing that's associated with danger had gone.

But then who's holding me hostage?

And for what reason?

Will I be in good state to fight back?

And most importantly,

Will anyone come for me?

Well, that's except if I actually need someone, isn't it?

Perhaps I'll find out sooner or later—

Actually,

How about I cross out the second option,

Why?

Since my surprisingly working sense of hearing chose to now catch onto a sound of footsteps.

But the real question is,

Unfortunately or fortunately shall I say in that situation?

And once again, I think I'll eliminate the second alternative, and that is because despite my horrible condition, I could still feel the little droplets of sweat gathering up on my forehead, and yes, I could hear the quite inaudible sound of my own heartbeat getting faster and faster by the second.
And boy oh boy,
No matter what anyone used to say,
I will always trust the sunken feeling in my guts,

And guess what?

It's sensing danger.

"Why hello there."

A part of me wanted nothing more than to open my eyes and finally catch a glimpse of that certain someone, however, the other part felt as if there was absolutely no need for that, as the voice of the person was oddly familiar, and I really don't know if I should feel double times scared or relieved at that moment.

But then I though of it, and,

I was going to have to get on with it either way so...
here goes nothing.

I'm not sure why but—

or actually, cross that, I do know why my eyebrows furrowed in a way that screamed what the fuck.

It wasn't that much clear as to the darkness of the ambience, although that small pit of light that was sitting on top of a wand indeed did some sot of favor in helping me try and figure out if who I think was standing there is actually who I think it was.

And despite my utter uncertainty, or you could say bewilderment,

I was actually right on this one.

The person was in fact...

None other than Lucien De Martel.

He just stood there, face glowing in the dark. I wanted to speak—say something, ask him what was he doing here but then reality hit me and I remembered that I couldn't.

I sucked in a harsh breath as soon as I noticed him taking a step forward.

I really don't know how to explain it but he looked rather...
unusual.

Looking up at him with worn out eyes, I caught a glimpse of something that made me sick to my stomach.

Why was he smiling?

And before I knew it, he was just a few inches before my face; it was like he's inspecting every bit of my terrible state.

I almost jumped as soon as I felt a feeling of a finger brush along the place between my jaw and the duct tape.

"Relax," He chuckled silently. "Don't you want to be able to speak?"

To this moment, I'm still not sure of the reason to why he's here, but I'll just find out soon enough.

I tried my best not to wince at the pain that stung on my flesh once he ripped off the sticky material off of my skin—it has been there for a whole day so no wonder it would cause me agony.

Deep and heavy breaths escaped my mouth as I refused to look in his direction, but I knew I had to do something—ask him about this fucked up situation.

"Why the hell am I here—why are you here? Where even are we? Who brought-"

"Shhhh, you're asking a lot, you know that?" He spoke calmly, stepping back until his back collided with the funky wall behind him.

"Well," I began, clearly frustrated. "What do expect me to do? Shut up?"

He placed his index finger along his chin and began pretending to think as a hum escaped his mouth. "Yeah, you can do that." He said sarcastically.

I shook my head in irritation and rolled my eyes before returning my gaze to meet with his using death glares. "Fucking hell, De Martel."

"Okay, okay," He sighed. "I'll explain everything, however..."

I raised my eyebrows in a way that informed him to go on, and he did so.

"If we want to come in terms with chatting,

I would much rather you call me by...

you could say, my real name."

I never thought I would be able to get even more frozen at that moment. What the fuck is that supposed to mean?

I looked back at him in utter puzzlement, awaiting for a response but at the same time I knew that knowing what he's going to say would be far more confusing.

He smirked, glancing at me and then back at the lit up wand in his hand.

"Call me Lucien Riddle."