Ch. 4
A/N: Alright. Here's chapter 4! Just as a little warning, this chapter isn't all that pleasant. It contains some blood, so if that bothers you, you may want to skip that part….
It was cold. And silent. And dark. The air had a stale stench to it that reminded him of old pipes, and there was a faint drip of water that echoed every few seconds.
This was all Harry could gather from his surroundings right now. His eyes were closed, and he couldn't seem to gather enough energy to open them. A moment ago, he had been floating in blissful unawareness, oblivious to his situation and to his potential pain. But something was telling Harry that it was time to open his eyes again. Something was wrong. Very wrong. He twitched his fingers to make sure he wasn't petrified. To his great relief, they obeyed his command. With newfound courage, Harry moved his arms. Nooooo, big mistake! Pain raced throughout his body. Why did he hurt like this? What had happened? And… where the hell was he?
Open them! A little voice in his head commanded firmly. Open your eyes, dammit!
It was a much harder task than it should have been. It was almost as if his eyelids were glued together. What? Why?! That was just an absurd thought. But he wouldn't put the death eaters past doing such a thing….
DEATH EATERS!
The thought caused Harry's eyes to finally snap open. They darted around the small room, into every dark shadow, but he couldn't see anyone else. No, he was most certainly alone in this tiny cell.
It was as if someone had poured a jug full of memories back into his brain. Images from the events outside Sirius's house started flashing across his vision with lightening quick speed. Malfoy. Wand. Sirius. Godson. Rain. Dirt. Pain.
But there was one thought that pushed the rest of them away. He had a Godfather. A Godfather! All his life he had been alone. Why hadn't Sirius come to rescue him from the Dursleys sooner? Where had he been all this time?
Oh no. Where's Sirius?
Harry tried hard not to panic, but it didn't appear to be working. He tried not to imagine Sirius being tortured by the death eaters, cut into pieces and bleeding on the stone floor of- wherever they were….
Harry looked at the doorway of the cell. It must be locked. He wouldn't be able to get out. Could he even stand up? Why was he hurting this bad? Harry looked down at his body, and almost puked. The death eaters had certainly had some fun with him while he'd been unconscious.
The first thing he noticed was the hole. A large, gaping dark hole just below his elbow, on the outside of his arm. It was covered in dried, crusty blood. There was still some fresh blood leaking slowly from the wound and running down his fingers. The smell was awful.
But the hole wasn't the only injury he had obtained. His pant legs had been torn off, and his knee was swollen to twice its normal size. His legs were completely red, smothered in thick, dark, sticky blood. He had no shoes. His shirt was torn in several places; the right sleeve was missing. Harry licked his lips, and a coppery taste invaded his mouth. He'd bitten through his lip yet again, and his chin was crusted with dried crimson residue.
He was helpless. Completely helpless and alone, and stuck in this hellhole. He wouldn't be able to escape. He wouldn't be able to stand on his own. And worst of all, he had no idea where Sirius was.
But he wasn't about to just give up. No way. Harry was never a quitter. Get up! Get up! That little voice told him. Get the hell up, now! "Fine," Harry rasped to himself. He paused for a moment, then began to heave himself to his feet.
Bloody Hell! He'd never hurt this badly before; not even when he'd been bitten and poisoned by a giant Basilisk fang. Tears spilled from his eyes as he screwed up his face in pain. Come on!
He'd raised himself to his knees. An eternity of pain had already passed by, and he wasn't even halfway there. But he'd gotten up! Maybe he wasn't completely hopeless after all.
The sound of echoing footsteps startled Harry into falling. He almost cried out from the impact of hitting his injuries on the ground. The footsteps were coming closer; they seemed to be heading directly toward his cell. Harry knew this couldn't be good.
He decided that the best way to deal with the situation was to appear unconscious. Then maybe they'd refrain from torturing him. Then again, who knows what they'll do if this is what I already look like.
Harry lay down in the same position he'd been in when he'd woken up. His heart beat painfully against his ribs. He could see the silhouette of a man outside his cell door through the little window. Harry quickly closed his stinging eyes.
BANG! Harry almost jumped as the door was slammed open. The man was obviously angry, which wasn't a good sign. He tried to keep his breathing slow and steady.
"Still out of it, are you?" the unfamiliar man sneered. His voice was rough and gravelly, and he reeked of firewhiskey. "Not for long," he slurred. "Ennervate!"
When Harry remained still and silent, he was kicked in the ribs. This time, Harry couldn't ignore the pain. He let out a sharp hiss.
"Get up, you piece of filth!" The man bent down, seized Harry's arm, and pulled him to his feet. Harry crumpled, wrapping an arm around his stomach. He could swear he had at least two broken ribs. "Your dog wants to see you. I'm sure you've missed him." The panic spread throughout Harry's limbs like poison. What have they done to Sirius?
He was dragged out into a cold, stone hallway. There were no windows and no doors, other than his cell. Harry's rough breathing left puffs of steam in the musty air. He closed his eyes in an effort to block out the burning sensation traveling up his bloody legs as they were scraped along the uneven floor. From the pain in his entire body, they could have been walking for hours. When the man readjusted Harry's upper body in his tight grip, Harry realized that he was rapping sharply on a wooden door. There was the sound of rattling chains being pulled back, and the door creaked open.
It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the dim lighting in the room. It was large, and contained multiple people decked out in long, black cloaks. However, it was the figure at the very back of the room that caught Harry's eye. He was sitting in a throne, and the death eaters were parted to form a sort of aisle leading to his seat. Harry didn't need his burning scar to tell him that this was Lord Voldemort.
They were halfway to Voldemort's chair when a low moan sounded a few feet from Harry's right. It was Sirius. There was no obvious injury on the man's body, but Harry could tell that he'd just received a cruciatus curse or two. Sirius was weak and trembling on the floor, just like Harry had been earlier that night. When Sirius took in the sight of Harry's mangled body, his eyes widened.
"Oh God, Harry," he whispered, his voice rasping. The death eater dumped Harry a few yards away from Sirius, right at the base of Voldemort's throne.
"Now, what do we have here?" Voldemort hissed. "I see that my death eaters had quite a bit of fun with you." The death eaters' gales of laughter filled the room. Voldemort stood up and circled around Harry's body until he was face to face with the boy. He leant down.
"I am tired of your little games, Harry. I am tired of chasing after you, and I am tired of failing to kill you. But that all ends now. I finally have you at my feet, where you belong. And once I am through with you tonight, you will be begging me for mercy." His white face was twisted in anger, and his red eyes seemed to gorge through Harry's skin and pierce his soul. Harry didn't break eye contact. He wasn't going to beg, no matter what Voldemort did to him.
Without any sign of warning, Voldemort snapped upright and threw a reductor curse at Harry's right foot. Harry screamed as he felt the bones shatter. Through his gasping breaths he heard Sirius yelling at Voldemort. "STOP IT! LEAVE HIM ALONE!" Harry opened his eyes again, and his hazy gaze settled on Sirius, who had tears streaming down his face and was staring at Harry with wide, horrified eyes. Harry knew from that point on that Sirius was going to be forced to watch the entire torture session.
Voldemort was certainly creative. He never performed the same methods more than once. He used knives, whips, his wand, and his own feet in more ways than Harry could count. Harry blacked out twice, but was revived each time. Once in a while, a curse was thrown at Sirius to stop his frantic yelling. Finally, after what seemed like hours and hours, Sirius and Harry were removed from the torture room.
Voldemort ordered them to be stored in the same cell, mainly because he wanted Sirius to feel helpless even though he was in such close proximity to his godson. They were both chained to opposite sides of the cell. As the death eaters left, Harry remained still, lying in the same position they had left him.
"Harry?" Sirius croaked, his voice cracking. Harry could hear the tears in his voice. "Harry, please…." Sirius broke off and began to sob.
"Sir- us…." Harry attempted to move his head, but fell back in a sharp groan of pain. "Don'…." But Sirius's cries became louder and harsher. He cried for minutes, until it seemed he had dried himself out of tears. He sniffed, and spoke again.
"I'm getting us out of here." His voice was resolute. "I'm getting you out of here. Those bastards are never touching you again." He heard the chains shift, and there was a loud popping noise. Harry jerked his head to the side, trying to ignore the pain it caused, and saw a large black dog standing in Sirius's place. The dog easily slipped out of the chains and bounded across the cell to Harry. It started licking his face.
"Hey…," Harry groaned. With a popping noise, Sirius returned to his human body. He took Harry's head in both of his shaking hands. "Lets get out of here," he whispered, obviously still horrified at what they had done to his Godson.
As gently as possible, Sirius unraveled the chains around Harry's wrists, and slipped his arms through. The death eaters had obviously thought that Harry and Sirius would be too out of it to escape, because it only took a few minutes to get his limbs freed. It was lucky Harry was so thin.
Once Harry was freed, Sirius began pacing about the cell, frantically trying to come up with an escape plan. He tried to force the door open, but it was locked. He turned his head up towards the ceiling, and was surprised to see that it traveled upwards about ten feet. And- Sirius almost couldn't believe it- at the very top there was a tiny window, just large enough for a skinny man to squeeze through.
Harry knew what Sirius was thinking. But there was no way for them to get up there! He was in no position to climb the uneven walls- he couldn't even stand on his own.
"I have an idea, Harry," Sirius said quietly, kneeling down next to Harry's torso. He grabbed the long chains and began to wrap them under his arms. "I think I can climb that wall. The stones are all uneven, see? I used to do crazy stuff like this when I was in Hogwarts." Yes, for some reason Harry could picture Sirius climbing the outside of the Astronomy Tower. He almost smiled. "I'm going to carry the end of this chain all the way to the top, and then I'll pull you up. You just have to make sure you don't fall out, okay?" Harry made eye contact with Sirius to show that he understood.
Sirius finished wrapping the chains around Harry's chest and secured them with the tiny hook on the end. He then wrapped the other end of the chain around his own waist. When he was finished, he squeezed Harry's hand once and muttered, "See you at the top."
He stuck his foot firmly in one of the cracks, and with his left hand grabbed a protruding rock above his head. With a heave, he was off the ground. It continued that way for a while; Sirius pausing here and there, trying to find the easiest path to the window. Two feet from the top, he looked down at Harry. His godson had tried to get to his feet and ready himself for the pull. So far, he had succeeded in sitting up against the wall.
"You're doing good, Harry," Sirius called down softly to him, so his voice wouldn't echo. Harry looked up.
"Y-you t-too." Harry's broken voice broke Sirius's heart, but it also gave him strength. With a newfound energy, Sirius heaved himself the last two feet and grabbed onto the window pane.
Luckily for them, it had a latch. Sirius forced it to the side, and the window sprang open. A cool, early morning breeze fluttered past him into the cell. It was just before dawn and the sky was still dark, so it took a moment for Sirius to realize that he was on the roof of Voldemort's fortress. He carefully climbed out the window, planted himself securely above it so he wouldn't fall, and called down to Harry. "Ready?" At Harry's answering nod, he began to pull the chains.
It was a good thing Harry was so light, or they never would have made it. Harry tried to help out by climbing the wall like Sirius did, but he couldn't force his limbs to obey his commands. Every slight movement sent sharp needles throughout his entire body.
"Almost- there-" Sirius grunted, throwing all of his strength into the task. Finally, Harry's head popped through the window and Sirius grabbed him under his arms. He was pulled through, and they both rested a few minutes on the roof. Sirius's arms burned from the exertion. Never do anything like that again after a cruciatus, he thought. Sirius quickly shut the window again so their escape route wouldn't be too obvious.
"Now… what," Harry gasped. They looked around. There was a tree hanging over the shingles to their left.
"Let's climb down that way," Sirius pointed. He gingerly scooped Harry up again, and walked quietly across the roof, careful so that his footfalls wouldn't make thumping noises inside the building. He was about to place Harry on one of the larger branches when a bright light spilled across the lawn below them. They immediately threw themselves flat against the roof and waited.
Three figures seemed to be arguing about something. Their loud voices carried across the grounds as they walked down a pathway. As soon as they were out of sight, Sirius proceeded to help Harry climb down the tree.
The sunrise overhead was glorious. The thick clouds residing in the sky were outlined with pink and yellow, giving off a spectacular glow. The sunrise produced shadows for Harry and Sirius to lurk in as they crept through the grounds. When they arrived at the front gate to the property, they paused.
"W-what if… t-there's a-an… alarm?" Harry panted nervously. They hadn't gotten this far just to be caught now, had they?
"Only one way to find out," Sirius answered. He carried Harry up to the gate, and stretched out his hand. There was a latch that had to be pulled down if the gate was to be opened. The moment before Sirius's fingers touched the latch, Harry opened his mouth to tell him to stop, but it was too late. His fingers grasped onto the piece of metal and- nothing happened.
"That was sure dramatic," Sirius said sarcastically, and opened the gate all the way. Harry snorted.
They were surrounded by trees. The fortress was obviously in the middle of the woods where no one would think to look for it. Harry and Sirius both agreed that the best escape route from here would be to stay in the woods until they came across a road or something. So that was exactly what they did.
The sun rose fully, but the sky remained dark with clouds. Harry prayed the rain would hold off a bit longer. He didn't want to be sick on top of everything else.
After a few hours of walking, they stopped to rest. Sirius's back was killing him, and the jostling from being carried was hurting Harry's ribs. Sirius placed Harry at the base of a large oak tree so Harry could lean on it for support. Sirius sat down next to him and regarded his godson. The injuries that marred his body were so sickening that it was hard to look Harry in the face. The sight of them made Sirius's blood boil. If he ever met up with those death eaters again, they'd be sorry for what they did to his charge.
A sharp gasp of pain broke Sirius' chain of thought. He focused on Harry again, who was clutching his head in agony. He was whimpering.
"Harry?! What is it?" Sirius began to panic again. Harry looked into Sirius's face and murmured, "He knows."
"What? Who knows what?"
"Volde-" But Harry couldn't finish. His eyes rolled up into his head, and he passed out.
Sirius had no idea what had happened to Harry, but he understood the general idea of what he had meant. Voldemort knew they'd escaped. And he was surely looking for them.
"Bloody hell!" Sirius swore. As fast as he could, he picked up his Godson and bolted through the trees with a renewed strength. They had to get to safety! If they were caught again, they would never get a second chance to escape. They'd most likely be killed on the spot.
It was late afternoon before Sirius finally stumbled onto a road. He had a stitch in his side and his back was killing him from carrying an unconscious Harry, but he couldn't relax. He was sure they were being followed. He looked down at the boy in his arms, who was completely covered in dried blood. What would a muggle driver say if they found them like this on the side of the road? Would they help them, or leave them there?
And where could they possibly go? Hogwarts wasn't even an option; if Sirius walked in there with a bloody Harry in his arms, they would automatically assume he'd done it. Saint Mungo's was out of the question. And they couldn't go to Grimmauld Place; if the death eaters had gotten in once, they could definitely do it again. That left only one option, an option that Sirius wasn't completely sure about either.
The sound of an approaching car startled Sirius out of his worries. He had a task to do, and if he didn't achieve it Harry would undoubtedly die. The boy's breathing was becoming shallow with each passing hour, and Sirius didn't want to push his luck any farther than he had to. With a leap, Sirius was in the road and waving his free arm frantically at the driver of the approaching car. The vehicle slowed and the man rolled down his window.
"You've got to help us!" Sirius cried. "I have to get my godson to a hospital! He's dying!" The driver was shocked at Harry's condition.
"What happened to him?" he asked weakly.
"There was an accident," Sirius replied, already at the car's door. "Please. He's all I have left." The emotion in his voice didn't need to be faked.
"Alright, get in," the man answered, unlocking the door. Sirius jumped inside, with Harry sitting in his lap. With a roar, the car took off at an alarming speed.
"Where are we?" Sirius asked. The man glanced at Harry again before answering.
"Just outside New Forest. There's a town up ahead. If we speed, I think I can get you there in fifteen minutes."
"Does that town happen to be Winchester?" Sirius asked, hope blossoming inside his chest.
"Right in one."
Thank God. Sirius knew that Remus would know what to do. "I've got a friend who lives there. He can drive us to the hospital. You can drop us at his house."
The man looked at Harry again. "You sure about that? He looks like he's lost quite a bit of blood." Sirius tightened his arms around Harry's body.
"He's going to make it," Sirius said, mainly to reassure himself. The man looked at him in pity, and drove on in silence.
When they got closer to the town, Sirius gave the man (Eddie Thompson, was his name) the address of Remus's cottage. They arrived at the end of the long path two minutes later. Sirius thanked Eddie, and the man drove away.
Sirius practically ran up the mossy, overgrown path to the cottage door. To his immense relief, the light was on inside and there was smoke emerging from the chimney. With a deep breath, Sirius reached up and rapped his knuckles on the wooden door.
