Hell hath no fury.
Chapter 1
Disclaimer: It is not my intention to impinge on anyones rights to ownership of the story this one is based upon. No money has been made, this is merely an act of fandom.
A/N People didn't seem to respond to my other story, 'The Great Escape' so I decided to write something else. I'm still working on that story but it's been placed on a backburner. I apologise for anyone who was really interested in it but that's just the way I am. I figure that I spend ten or twenty hours a week writing and proof-reading my work. So ask yourself, 'Is it too much to ask for a couple of minutes of your time to post a review?' It's not that I expect everyone to review, I don't, it'd just be nice to know what people think of my work. When people don't respond then I think there's something wrong with what I wrote and I get discouraged.
/ Azkaban, isolation cells \
He watched the power swirl around his hands as he focused on directing it. It boiled in like a heat-wave which was close to what was actually happening as he fed power into the rune array, being careful to make sure none of it was wasted. It was hard enough doing this without all the handicaps they'd placed on him but if he slipped now he'd have wasted the last five weeks of preparation.
One might ask just why he was trying to destroy the nice gift the Ministry of Magic had given him but for that he'd have to go back to the day he'd defeated the Dark Lord Voldemort. The day he'd finally put paid to the maniacal monster that had plagued the magical world for nearly forty years. It hadn't been an easy task and there were many people who wouldn't be around to enjoy the victory celebrations, not least of all Voldemort himself. Then again he had a good excuse having caught a bad case of dead which probably could have been cured if Harry and his friends hadn't gone around destroying those pesky little Horcruxes.
The fight itself had seemed a little anti-climactic when he'd finished it, he'd thought that a Dark Lord that had scared the magical world would have been a bit harder to defeat, but then he really shouldn't have been surprised what with all the good press the Prophet had given him over the years. It had felt like the snakelike man had come to depend on his reputation and hadn't sought to extend his power any further
No one had been more shocked than Harry when after a duel that had lasted for just under ten minutes he'd managed to get a reductor through the older wizards shield. Probably not as shocked as Voldemort had been but then he'd probably began to buy his own press that he was invincible. It had helped that he didn't know that his back-up plan was no longer an option what with the death of Nagini sometime in the last hour you could forgive the evil bastard for not knowing that his plans for resurrection had been foiled. Harry had stood over the rapidly cooling corpse and made sure of the monster by smearing his head across the flagstones of Hogwarts great-hall. That's when the previous three hours of battle had caught up with the teen and his injuries had caused him to collapse to his knees.
He'd hardly protested when he'd been grabbed and the auror had placed these lovely bracelets on his wrists, hadn't even known what they were until after they'd wrested his wand from his hand. Hadn't even read him his rights, but then again he'd seen the way justice worked in this world and known that he had no rights. Not when they put the magic suppressors on him, not when they'd secured his hands behind his back and marched him at wand-point past all of the stunned people who'd fought alongside him and forced him to the minimum safe distance that one could apparate away from Hogwarts and directly to the docks from whence the ferry for Azkaban left. Oh yes he'd seen this kind of justice before, they'd put him away for the good of the people or so they'd told him.
He'd taken out their trash and in the process he'd become their trash, oh it was a fine world he'd spent the majority of his life preparing to defend. Sixteen incredibly long and harrowing years being honed as a weapon, and this was all the thanks he could expect from them. He hadn't been surprised, not really. You see the purebloods might have lost the battle but they controlled just about everything, and that was one thing they couldn't allow to change. Harry had represented change and they'd known it. All he'd have to have done if they'd left things alone was to ask and the public would have made him Minister of Magic in a second. With his good friends behind him he would have done so much to change the way the magical world ran that it would have been unrecognisable in a decade, especially with friends like Hermione to drive him onwards.
So they'd stacked the deck like they were wont to do and pushed him into a magic suppressing cell deep in the bowels of the wizarding prison, not even bothering to remove the manacles thus leaving him doubly suppressed. The only good thing about his situation was that the Ministry hadn't been able to round up the last of the Dementors and so he hadn't been subjected to their special kind of attention. Like he'd said he hadn't been surprised by his treatment and with the way he'd been raised he'd been prepared to let things stand, if they'd left them as they were but they couldn't do that. It'd been two weeks after he'd been brought in and the only way he'd known that, was that he'd timed the interval between the light going on in his cell one day and extrapolated from there how long he'd been here. Two weeks without seeing a soul, not even the person that brought his meal each day and then there'd been a rattle of keys off in the distance that had brought him to the window in his cell door to see what was happening. He'd watched stunned as two aurors had dragged an unconscious Fred Weasley into a cell just along the corridor before they'd slammed it shut and stomped away. He'd often wondered what Fred had done to warrant putting him in here but so far all of his calls to that cell had been ignored. He didn't even know if he was alive or how extensive the damage was to his friend.
Even after that he'd only been angry. How could they treat one of his friends like that, one who'd lost his twin in the final battle? That had been the beginning of a slow burn in his chest as the anger began to flare, but at that point it had been undirected, lacking a focus for his ire. That had come in his fourth week in here.
Harry took a deep breath as he remembered what had been driving him ever since. He'd given up on getting a reaction from his friend and was just counting the days when he'd heard that sound once more and the guarded door at the end of the corridor had been opened once more. He'd wondered who it was this time, hoping it was some heinous criminal and not another of his friends. He'd been sadly disappointed when he'd seen not one but two of his friends being escorted into the cell block. At first he'd been hoping that they were merely here to visit him but an ungentle shove had sent Hermione sprawling. That'd been shocking enough, but it was the fact that Ron was the one to pull her to her feet that had been the real shock. He wasn't gentle about it either and Harry could see something that he'd only seen a few hints of before in his friends face. It was as if Ron was angry at the world and he'd chosen to focus on Hermione as the perpetrator of all the injustices within it. Then again he'd done the same thing to Harry a few times over the years but he'd never seen this level of hate before. He'd pushed her into the cell right next to Harry's before he turned to the auror escort and told them he'd be with them in a little while. Harry had wondered what that was about but it hadn't taken long for him to find out.
He'd jumped when he'd heard the first blow, and cringed when he heard Hermione make the first sound she had since he'd first caught sight of her. It was a yell of pain that was quickly followed by more as Ron showed her just how angry he really was. He still shrank when he remembered her pleading with him to stop, the timbre of which changed after a couple of minutes as she pled with him not to 'Do it'. When Ron left the cell ten minutes later Harry could hear her weeping as the red-head straightened his clothes. Now Harry wasn't exactly well versed in what went on between the sexes but you couldn't live in a co-ed boarding school and not get a crash course in human behaviour. He also knew enough to know that Hermione hadn't been a willing participant and that's when Harry's anger had finally ignited.
Ron had smirked as he noticed Harry watching him through the bars on his cell and decided to stroll over.
"What's wrong Harry? Sad you weren't her first or is it that I'll be her last? Not that you were going to get a chance from where you are," the red-head sneered as he moved within reach of Harry's hand's.
"You sick fucking animal!" Harry roared as he reached through the bars with his right hand only to watch as Ron took a half step back. The smirk on his face had grown as he'd grabbed Harry's wrist and gave a viscous twist that had smashed the arm into the bars, pushing further he'd been satisfied when he heard a snapping sound as the bone gave.
"She shouldn't have supported you, you know?" he said almost conversationally as he shook Harry's broken arm again, "Should have left well enough alone, but the stupid bitch never did know when to keep her mouth shut. 'Harry didn't do anything'," he mimicked sarcastically, "'Harry saved you all', well fuck you Harry. For once the Ministry got it right, you're exactly where you deserve to be…" He was so caught up in speaking that he missed it when Harry's other arm came through the bars with all his seeker wrought speed and reflexes. Ron's nose had made a very satisfying sound as it met the wrought iron bar with a sickening crunch, not for Harry though, he was too busy wrapping his hand in Ron's long hair and using it as leverage to smash his one time friends face into the door to his cell. He'd gotten in four or five good blows when he'd finally managed to pull a fistful of Ron's hair out by the roots and the red-head had been able to stumble back out of range clutching his mangled nose.
The gangly teen had been about to retaliate when he'd finally met Harry's eyes and been shocked at what he'd seen there. He'd never seen such a look of malice on the face of anyone, not even Voldemort had a look like that. The ex-Dark Lord had been viscous but he'd been an urbane and cultured killer never really feeling anything at all for any of his victims, they were just a means to an end. The only time he'd ever seen anything like it was when he'd seen Bellatrix Lestrange up close, but then she'd been crazy. Harry wasn't crazy though, he could see it in the depths of those eyes. This was a calculating fury that he'd never seen on Harry's face before and he gave thanks that a sturdy door was between the two as he took another step back under the blast-furnace gaze.
"They were right, you belong where you are…You're an animal Harry. You hear me?" It probably would have sounded stronger if he hadn't been backing away in fear.
"You know something Ron, old buddy, old pal? When I get out of here I'm going to enjoy killing you for the things you've done. Mark my words, I'm going to make you pay in ways you're not going to have long to regret," Harry hissed in his anger. Having his anger pass through the normal hot diffuse state that he'd known as a sullen teen rotting at Privet Drive, it had settled into a cold seething place that allowed him to think about what he'd do next. Not that there'd been much that he could do at that time except watch Ron's faltering arrogance begin to fade. Sure it didn't last long before Ron was back to his normal self but it was satisfying nonetheless.
"Like there's anything you can do. You might not have noticed this since it probably feels like home to you, but you're in a prison that no one has escaped from before," he finished triumphantly before turning away and beginning to stalk towards the end of the corridor intending to leave on that parting shot, but Harry wasn't finished.
"One name Ron, Sirius Black," he had the satisfaction of watching Ron's shoulders stiffen, "Mark my words Ron, I'm coming for you. There's no place on this stinking god forsaken world that you can escape to, I'm coming…." He didn't know or care that half of what he'd said was in parsletongue he just knew it had had the desired effect and sent Ron scurrying for safety away from here like the rat he'd proven himself to be. He wondered if Molly knew about her sons activities, or if she approved. Now wouldn't that be something to boast about, she now had a son who'd been head boy, another who'd been quidditch captain, Percy who'd been a prefect and now she could add Ron the rapist. Oh yes she had so many sons to be proud of.
Those threats he'd made had been big words five weeks ago, but he'd meant them, every one of them. He'd tried to talk to Hermione but like Fred she wasn't answering any questions. He couldn't even begin to understand what kind of private hell she was living in and he'd hoped that he could help her in some way but she wouldn't talk. He knew she was still alive though since he could hear her sobbing every now and again.
For the first day after his confrontation he'd wondered just how he was going to deliver on his threats. One thing he knew though was that he needed magic to get out of here and he was being suppressed twice over. In trying to overcome the first layer of suppression he'd noted almost in passing that he could still move his magic internally just fine, he'd used it to accelerate his healing of the broken bone in his arm, a feat that took three days without Skele-grow to speed the process up. Once he'd managed that he'd taken to pushing his magic as far as it could go, noting how the manacles sucked the magic into themselves. Taking care to watch the process with his mage-sight he'd seen that it managed to dampen his power but not only that but it neutralized the purpose of the magic so that even if there was anything left over it wasn't focused enough to do anything with. He'd come to the conclusion after nearly a week of testing that the only way to get rid of them would be to overload them.
Three hours later he'd passed out from lack of magic in his system but he didn't let that deter him. After sleeping he tried again, and again, not stopping each time till unconsciousness beckoned. He had nothing else to do now and he was bound and determined that he was not going to be stopped by some little trinket. What followed was four weeks of the most intense magical focusing that Harry had ever undertaken. Now it took five hours for him to totally drain his magical core, and he was sure that he could feel the metal begin to warm up. While he was recovering he'd tried to discover anything else that might aid him in his bi to escape confinement. It was a pity that he wasn't an animagus like his god-father had been , but that had led him to another thought to explore.
He'd never really been tested for any gifts, other than the few he knew about such as his ability to talk to snakes but there was one thing that he remembered discussing with one of his friends before that final battle. In fact she'd promised to help him see how far he could take his ability once the battle for their survival was done with. That hadn't turned out to be a possibility at the time but there was nothing stopping him from attempting it himself. She'd given him all the clues he needed to work it out himself. So he'd waited until he was exhausted and then attempted it, just something simple to begin with, something he knew he'd done before. She'd told him that it took almost no power being an intrinsic part of who she was, it was like breathing to her and that's the way she thought it should feel for him as well. It was a matter of believing that things would happen and all he had to do was focus on what he wanted to happen. Even with that to guide him it had taken nearly three weeks to make a minor breakthrough, but that had been as far as he'd gotten so far. His hair had been long enough that he couldn't see through his fringe but hat hadn't mattered because he'd managed to shorten it again after only another day and a half of trying. His ability was a far cry from Nymphadora Tonk's casual displays of meta-morphing prowess but he was getting better.
That wasn't going to help him get out of here any quicker though since he couldn't do anything more substantial such as thinning his wrists enough to pull them off. So that left his original plan, but it wasn't paying off either.. Sure he was getting more powerful but it wasn't enough. So he watched the magic boil into the magical artefacts and sighed in frustration, if only he could condense his power even further. That's when he heard a tiny voice inside his head make a suggestion. He'd done this before when he needed to make something incredibly hard seem easy. That was probably why it took longer for him to access his inner Hermione, he wasn't attempting hard here; he was attempting something that was supposedly impossible. Like the adverts said, hard had become easy for him, the impossible took just a little bit longer. What ever the case may be he was willing to give it a try as he watched the magic around one of his hands disappear as he stopped pushing magic through that channel.
Instead he focused what he was saving and began to strengthen the link with his left hand as he forced the extra he'd freed up into the task. Yep, that had an effect, he could feel the metal become noticeably warmer, one might even say hot. Hot enough that his wrist began to turn red at the extended contact, enough that he had to stop and let things settle, but it gave him another idea of how to do this. For the moment he'd wait and think of all the things he was going to do once he got out of her, of course there was no way he was going to leave his friends in here so he'd have to make plans for that as well. Having Hermione on his side would be definite help as would Fred, they were two of the most clever individuals he'd known and if he guessed right then they'd be some of the few people who'd support him. He didn't need to be a seer to know what was going on outside while he was stuck in here, the papers would be having a field day with his supposedly turning to the dark side, he'd had plenty of experience with the magical worlds almost sheep like response to what was printed in that rag.
That brought him to thinking about the people he thought might support him and winced when he found that it was distressingly short. Luna and Neville were possibilities and maybe some of the Hufflepuffs who'd been a part of the DA in his fifth year. He didn't think that Susan Bones would be a part of any conspiracy to get rid of him. Her aunt would have bee a nice addition as well if she'd survived Voldemort's attack, or then again he'd only believed that Voldemort was responsible, there was another possibility that had reared its ugly head and that was that Rufus Scrimgour had been the one to leak the information of her whereabouts and had let the Dark Lord handle it from there. He didn't want to believe it but from what he'd seen so far politics did something to the people who played that game.
One thing he knew was that Rufus was on his list of people who were enemies. He couldn't prove the mans part in the death of Amelia Bones but he could in the fact that he was currently in a cell without a trial. It seemed it was becoming a bit of a family tradition. Hopefully he could make the escaping a family tradition too, only he wasn't willing to wait for twelve or thirteen years to do it. Luckily it would only take him three hours to recharge his reserves and then he'd make his next attempt, though this time he'd use some of it internally to mitigate the heat.
A short time later he had to stifle the urge to give off a primeval scram of triumph as he watched the rune he'd been feeding power into catch fire like a burning nub of magnesium as it burned out completely. He used the next few seconds to cut the wrest of the rapidly cooling metal from his wrist before turning his attention to the other manacle. That one didn't take anywhere near as long since they were only designed to handle magic from within whatever limb they happened to be attached too. It wouldn't do to have an artefact within the prison that would negate their own wards after all.
The next order of business was to get out of the cell he was currently in. Not that that would be hard, the suppressing wards on the actual cell had been designed to deal with the average wizard or witch. They didn't make allowances for strong wandless magic. That seemed to be the norm for wizardkind they always tended to cater to the norm rather than the exception. It took Harry fifteen seconds to locate and met the rune stone that powered the suppression wards that were aimed at wand focused magic. The problem was that Harry was now stronger without a wand than he'd ever been with one. Harry mused that if he gained that much after only a few weeks that it might be valuable to have Hermione create an even stronger version so that he could overcome them too. It didn't even matter if he could overcome them either since he'd get stronger regardless and he was pretty sure he could convince her to remove them once he was finished for the day, or even put a release phrase into them for emergencies, but that all depended on them being able to get out of here. Harry was hoping that normal wizarding arrogance would prevail and that they actually believed that their prison was as un-escapable as they thought it was. You'd think they'd have learned after Sirius had escaped but he was counting on the usual bind-spots that allowed them to ignore uncomfortable truths until their noses were ground into their mistakes.
Slumping back onto the hard wooden board that had been his bed for nearly ten weeks Harry allowed his reserves to recharge one more time. He had a feeling that as soon as he opened his cell door that all hell was going to break loose and he wanted to be ready for it, no, he would be ready for it. That way if it didn't eventuate he could be happy that it was so and if it did then he'd at least be prepared for the worst. An hour later he faced the door and began to force his magic into it, watching with pleasure as the metal began to low like water where it pooled on the flor. Forming it into a sphere he sent it rolling away down the empty stretch of corridor till it was beyond Freds cell where he made it morph into a wall of iron that blocked anyone coming to interfere. Hermione's door joined it a moment later as did the cell door opposite.
Entering the cell his friend was confined to Harry stopped…..
/ To be continued? \
A/N – Alright peoples, it's time to figure out if this story continues, I sure hope it does but that depends on reader response. I don't see any reason to waste time writing a story that no wants to read, other than for my own pleasure. Let me know what you think, PM me, review, send me e-mails, it doesn't matter how but let me know what you think.