It ain't my franchise just my version of a plot that has been used before and will be used again.
NEED TO KNOW∞ Cannon up until HBP∞ Dumbles isn't dead and harry did more than watch brain movies in his lesson∞ He made a deal with Dumbledore that he wouldn't run into a dangerous situation without adult back up and Dumbles would keep him informed.
Thanks 10thWeasley for beta-ing.
All I'm trying to do is survive and make good out of the dirty, nasty, unbelievable lifestyle that they gave me. - Tupac Shakur
Down the Rabbit Hole
Chapter 1: Freedom Never Smelled so Sweet
Harry was running. Running as fast as he could. He slipped and fell scraping his hands and knees, but scrambled to get back up. His muscles protested the movement wanting nothing more than to stop. He ignored the pain flaring through his battered limbs and pushed himself up and onward. He knew that if he stopped then he would have no chances. No chance to escape, no chances to live!
Harry had been kidnapped and spent a month in the tender love and care of Snake Face and his Corpse Cannibals. He had been interrogated and tortured. They had been brutal towards him. The Cruciatus should be more than just an unforgivable in Harry's opinion. He lost count of how many times they had placed it on him. After awhile though, his captures had grown bored of using the crucio especially since he had taken the initiative to insult them while they did so. Telling them there curses were pitiful and would hurt a bunny. He had known it wasn't smart, but that had never stopped him before.
He hissed in pain as one of his many barely healed injuries ripped wide open allowing his Blood to flow freely from his body. Harry felt the world spin as his liquid life escaped from his body at an alarming rate. It was nothing new for the tortured boy, he had been subject to pain before; he had nearly died more than a few times; and he had been injured to many times to count. Luckily he healed fairly quickly thanks to his magic, but it was not instantaneous and with his magic depleted as it was it would take external help to keep him from dying. He knew he needed help, but right now his only option was to run otherwise he'd be dead.
Harry's captures had gone so far as to branch out to cutting curses and bone crushing curses only to barely heal him so they could do it again. They had taken to physical abuse after an interrogation under the clear tasteless truth serum reviled the abuse his relatives had subjected him to.
But, Harry had gotten away. The Corpse Cannibals as he had taken to calling them had warded against magic. They saw magic as a threat; they thought if they had enough wards against magic he wouldn't be able to escape and no one would be able save him.
They had been right… to an extent. The wards prevented any escape plan the Order of the Phoenix would have come up except if Snape would have blown his cover to save him, but it seemed that Snake Face had at least suspected Snape would try something and had kept him away.
Harry, though, had grown up with muggles, and he sometimes would think like them. Realizing that wizards underestimated muggles, Harry found that he stood a better chance doing things their way, thinking like them could be helpful. He realized that if he did things the muggle way he might stand a chance. So, that's what he did.
The idiots had left him alone for hours at a time, only coming when they wanted to torture him or interrogate him which usually coincided. They had thought he would wallow in self pity and tear apart his own hope more and more with each passing day, days that he had no way of counting and seemed to drag on forever. Those precious hours that he was left alone for he used to their fullest. Pushing past the pain Harry dug. He used a stone he found to dig around one of the large stones that made up the walls of his prison. He slowly dug his way out, scraping his hands again and again against the stones causing them to bleed. It still amazed him that his guards had not noticed his self induced injuries, but considering all the injuries he had gotten from them, maybe it wasn't that hard to believe.
It had been long tedious work filled with pain, but Harry just kept reminding himself of why. He had to get free so he could see his friends again! He had to get free so he could end the war! He had to get free so he could stop the pain! He couldn't surrender. Harry couldn't give up no matter how much easier it would be. If he didn't make it out… If he didn't kill Voldemort then not only would he be condemning himself, but countless others as well.
Harry had to stay strong. He needed to remind himself that it wouldn't always be like this. After Voldemort was gone he would be free! He would be able to live in peace! But, before that happened he needed to get away from the Death Eaters and to safety!
After finally breaking through the wall he was now free… he just had to stay that way. Coming across a guard he was able to take advantage of their surprise and knock them unconscious. He took his clothes to replace the ones that he had taken from him so long ago and he took the Death Eaters wand. Now he stood a chance. Now he was armed, but he still needed to be somewhere safe. So, he ran. He could hear the sounds of the wards going off, signaling his escape, but he ignored them and pushed onward. He ran into a forest. His muscles were burning, begging him to, but he knew he couldn't stop now; not when freedom was so close.
Scorching pain went through his body at every move; branches and weeds slapped against him as he ran by. They stung. Every single one felt like a knife stabbing him but that was probably due to never damaged thanks to the wonderful Cruciatus Curse. If he ever heard that Crucio word again, it would be too soon. Harry wondered if he had been placed under it enough to have sustained permanent nerve damage. Would he ever be able to touch something without the burning pain?
Twigs and stones pinched his bare feet making him realize he should have taken the Death Eaters shoes as well. Harry couldn't worry about that now though. He needed to put as much distance behind him as possible. He didn't know where he was, but he would worry about that later. One moment at a time. First get away then worry about how to contact his loved ones.
He ran into a clearing and stumbled to the ground again. He tried to get up, but then the ground began to shake. Harder and fiercer the Earth shook as each second went by; Harry began to scream. He was in so much pain he felt as though he were in Hell and that if it didn't stop soon he would gladly kill himself. But just when he thought the pain could not get any worse… it doubled and he began to disappear.
Harry stared at his hand in disbelief as it disappeared from in front of his face! The dirt leaves and twigs that the hand had been grasping desperately to the ground fell softly as if the was nothing wrong happening. His alarm grew as the disappearing affect spread up his arm and as his other hand began the same fate. He screamed out in agony and shock as his feet and legs followed the same process as hands and arms. It continued up his torso to his head until he had completely disappeared!
Harry reappeared someplace else someplace that felt different, odd. It looked like a bedroom. It was someplace he had never been. But, now, at this moment, he was too sore and tired to really care about where he was, and he passed out. Right on top of somebody else's bed, and the only notion running through his head was 'I hope I'm safe.'