Author's Note: Here's Chapter Four. Yes, I'm fully aware that Patronuses don't kill things; that was just my little spin on things. Everything else should be somewhat accurate. :P

CHAPTER FOUR

DEBARKATION

The Ministry of Magic

Fudge slipped the golden coin into the miniscule slot that most Muggles wouldn't even notice and hurried inside the cramped toilet stall. He almost gagged from the stench, holding his bowler up before his face to ward off the invasive smells. The highly distinguished Minister of Magic climbed inside the toilet bowl, soaking his boots all the way through his socks. He braced himself, wrapping the bowler tighter around his face, and flushed.

The toilet simply imploded, sucking him down through all the piping that connected the sewers of London. He kept his eyes shut the entire time. The experience was quite nauseating. A particularly nasty bend caused him to bang his knee against the piping, and he grunted in pain. Just as his eyes began to water, he was practically tossed out of a marble fireplace into the Ministry's Atrium.

The Atrium was where all visitors and officials were welcomed into the Ministry. Visitors could take the phone booth down to this level, provided they knew the secret code. Ministry workers came and went via the fireplaces on either side of the Atrium. The area was most notable for the golden fountain in the center of the floor. A figure of a witch and wizard, surrounded by a goblin, centaur, and house elf. The latter three were looking adoringly up at the other two. The floor was polished dark wood, while the ceiling was peacock blue with golden symbols moving across it.

For the time of day, the place was nearly empty. It was eerily silent. Cornelius made his way past the Fountain of Magical Brethren to the security desk. It was littered with bits of parchment, all depicting the same words, but with different faces: "HAVE YOU SEEN THIS WIZARD?" Similar memos zoomed around the room in the form of paper airplanes.

The security wizard on duty was fast asleep, head propped up with one arm and drool seeping from the corner of his mouth. "Eric," Fudge began. He got no response. "Munch!" he nearly shouted.

The other man jolted awake, nearly falling out of his chair and ruffling the papers on his desk. "M-Minister," he fought down a yawn. "Why're you here? I don't need to check your wand, sir."

"I know that, you bloody imbecile. I need you to run an errand for me. Fetch Madam Bones and tell her to gather the Wizengamot. Hurry now, time is short. And bring that Weasley boy too!"

Eric Munch nodded and bolted down the corridor towards the elevator. Fudge took the stairs; he had no patience for the monotonous elevator tour guide.

Fudge was spent by the time he reached the courtrooms and the sharp pain in his knee was making him limp. The narrow corridor he had entered was bare except for torches inlaid in brackets along the wall. There were doors interspersed down the hall. Cornelius stopped before the second one on the left. Voices could be heard coming from the other side. Maybe the elevator was faster after all, he thought to himself, and then pushed his way inside.

The bare room was semi-circular, with about fifty witches and wizards dressed in plum robes all sitting on rows of benches opposite the door he had just entered through. They all stopped talking and looked at him as he entered. The only one not sitting, instead standing a few feet away from Fudge himself, was Albus Dumbledore.

Dumbledore turned to regard Fudge with everyone else. His silver hair and beard were dishevelled and his midnight blue robes were wrinkled from overuse. Yet, he had lost none of his authority. His azure eyes sparkled from behind half moon spectacles as he looked down his crooked nose at the Minister. But for the spark in his eyes, Dumbledore was not smiling.

"Severus has just told me what happened," Dumbledore said. "I arrived here at once, trying to convince these fools that Lord Voldemort has returned."

"Don't say his name!" Fudge hissed. Dumbledore ignored him.

A middle aged woman called out from the middle of the Wizengamot with a commanding tone. "What's all this about, Cornelius? That boy Munch nearly dragged me here, just to have Albus spitting nonsense at us. What for, I say?"

Fudged looked to the teenage boy with flaming red hair who sat on the woman's right side. "Percy, note the time and date in the logs, if you please." he turned his attention back to the stern woman. "Madam Bones, it isn't nonsense. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has indeed returned."

Madam Bones's face lost almost all its colour. "What proof do you have?"

Fudge spread his hands, a pleading gesture. "Just my word and the word of Albus. I have just returned from Little Hangleton. The Riddle House." This was met by gasps from all around.

An older, balding man with a thin moustache spoke up. "Why would you go there, Minister?"

"I was taken forcibly," Fudge replied. "Your son looks well, Crouch. I had thought he was in Azkaban until he was sitting next to me."

Barty Crouch stamped his foot in agitation. "Enough! This is ridiculous! He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named cannot return without the boy!"

Dumbledore interjected. "You all remember Petunia Dursley, yes? She was murdered by Lord Voldemort. The closest living relation that Harry Potter had."

Revelation suddenly shone in Amelia's eyes. "Why have you called us here, Cornelius?" she asked again.

Fudge withdrew the crushed soda can from his robes and held it out before him so that they all could see. "In approximately one hour, this incantation on this Portkey will cause its spell to mutate and transport the entire complex of the Ministry of Magic and all its inhabitants to the predetermined location. The same location that all these witches and wizards have disappeared to."

For a wonder, Percy spoke up. He had stopped scratching with his quill. "You are certain, Minister?"

"Quite," he replied.

"I've never heard of such an incantation," Madam Bones said. "Your work, Cornelius?"

"Not this time, I'm afraid. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did this himself."

"And we are to trust the word of the most feared Dark Wizard of our time?" Crouch asked.

"Well," Fudge began, replacing the can in his pocket. "I don't see what choice we have in the matter."

Hogwarts

Dumbledore looked over his gilded goblet, casting his intensely blue eyes across the Great Hall. He set the cup back down on the table and cleared his throat, sitting back in his chair.

"I had hoped we could gather here under happier circumstances," he said. "Sadly, that is not the case. I'm certain most of you are aware, but for those who remain blissfully ignorant, let me say it now. Lord Voldemort has returned."

He was met by mutters and whispers from all across the room. The Great Hall was not nearly as full as it usually would have been during an evening meal. Dumbledore guessed not more than a hundred students were scattered along the four table's benches. Normally, he would have had them all sit united at the same table, but he didn't want it to seem as if they had forgotten about all the missing students.

The House banners still hung suspended over their respectful tables. Stained glass windows adorned both sides of the Hall, casting in hazy rays of dying evening sunlight. An assortment of food littered the tables: everything from turkeys and ham, potatoes and cabbages, treacle tart and apple pie.

Dumbledore sat at the Head table on a dais at one end of the room. Professors Snape and McGonagall sat on either side of him. Rubeus Hagrid, the gamekeeper, had squashed himself into a chair on Snape's other side. Tiny Professor Flitwick was on a stool next to McGonagall. Alastor Moody refused to sit down, instead lurking in the shadows in the corner, his magical eye surveying everything.

"What do you mean, returned?" a voice called out from among the students.

Dumbledore almost rolled his eyes. "I mean he's walking and talking, Mr. LeCourde. Professor Snape has seen it."

Those at the Slytherin table roused themselves, peering at their House Head curiously. "What was he like?" Pansy Parkinson asked gleefully.

Snape shifted his eyes nervously from side to side, uncertain how to respond. "Headmaster," he muttered from the corner of his mouth, "perhaps it would be better if I went to check on Professor Trelawney?"

"Yes, see that you do, Severus," Dumbledore replied. Snape graciously left the table, much to the disappointment of his House. They shouted after him, up until the ornately crafted doors clanged shut behind him.

"Now then," Dumbledore started again. "As I said before, Lord Voldemort has indeed returned. He has offered his assistance regarding our missing friends and family.

"I know what you all are thinking. Why would we place our last vestiges of hope in someone who kills purely for pleasure? I don't have an answer for you."

Dumbledore pulled out the moth eaten hat, placing it on the table before him. "The choice is yours alone. I cannot force any of you to go. In exactly thirty seven minutes, the spell on this Portkey will transport us to some unpredictable, possibly even dangerous place. If any of you do not wish to go, the Hogwarts Express will take you back to King's Cross station and you can be on your way home."

Nobody moved or so much as voiced an opinion. Dumbledore opened his mouth to say something further, but at that exact moment, the doors banged open once more.

The castle's caretaker, Argus Filch, ran awkwardly up to the Head table, holding his precious cat, Mrs. Norris, protectively in his arms. Some of the students laughed as he passed, but he shot them all glares.

Filch stopped in front of where Dumbledore was sitting, his mouth twitching violently. Out of courtesy and respect for the Headmaster, he remained silent until Dumbledore gestured for him to speak.

"What is it, Argus?" Dumbledore asked worriedly.

"There's a ruckus coming from the forest, Headmaster. I wouldn't have noticed if it weren't for the bleeding hippogriff that damn near knocked me out of the clock tower. Scared the wits out of poor Mrs. Norris, it did. But there can't be any doubt, sir. The centaurs are in a frenzy, and heading up to the castle. Acromantulas, too."

Hagrid jumped at the mention of the Acromantulas. "Professor Dumbledore, sir, Aragog'd never hur' anyone. If he's brough' the colony up here, then yeh can be' there's trouble. Yeh can, at tha'."

Dumbledore motioned for him to shush. "Calm yourself, Hagrid. Hagrid!" The half-giant gamekeeper had been blubbering and muttering to himself. He gave a start when Dumbledore shouted his name. Dumbledore turned his attention back to Filch.

"Thank you, Argus. I believe Professor Snape may require your assistance in the North Tower. Sybill has refused to come down from her residence and he has gone to see what all the fuss is about."

Filch nodded and bowed himself away from the table. "Right away, Headmaster. Right away." The man was gone as abruptly as he had arrived.

Despite the relatively cramped room, Dumbledore calmly removed his wand from his robes and directed the tip at his throat. "Sonorus," he muttered. He replaced his wand in its rightful place and opened his mouth. Several of the students jumped noticeably as his voice boomed throughout the Great Hall.

"Prefects, those of you that remain, please escort students back to the dormitories. Professors please come with me to the Entrance Hall."

That was all that needed to be said. Chaos erupted as students rose en mass and began crowding the doors, prefects shouting to be heard over the deafening noise. Dumbledore left them to it as he and the Professors ducked into a side chamber that would take them down a narrow unlit corridor and into the castle's Entrance Hall.

The last of the students were just starting up the marble staircase as he made his way over to the great wooden doors, trailed foremost by Hagrid, with Professors McGonagall and Moody behind him and little Filius Flitwick bringing up the rear.

With a flick of his wand, Dumbledore cast aside the iron locks that clasped the doors shut and pushed one open with both hands, all five of them filing through into the night. The door swung shut behind them.

The castle's grounds were in a state not unlike that which the Great Hall had been. Spiders ranging from the sizes of basketballs to small cars skittered to and fro, thwarted by the arrows that rained down on them from the enraged centaurs. Hippogriffs beat their feathered wings against the sky furiously, sometimes sweeping down low to survey the scene, and then departing again in a huff. One centaur had wandered too far and had succumbed to the spiders' wrath. The five newcomers could only watch, mystified.

Suddenly, McGonagall burst out of her trance and brushed past the Headmaster, pointing her wand towards the center of the chaos. "Incendio!" she screamed, and a jet of flame burst from her wand tip, scorching the grass, creating a wall of fire that separated spider from centaur. Dumbledore beamed at her.

"Excellent work, Minerva," he said.

"It was nothing, Albus," she replied. "Something had to be done about these idiots."

Some of the centaurs still attempted to fire arrows through the flames, and were rewarded by the piercing shrieks of Acromantulas on the other side. One of them, however, noticed the humans and called a cease fire. "Enough!" he said in a rough voice. He whickered, coming over to greet them.

His grizzled black hair was tied back in a loose knot, and his tightly muscled chest shone with sweat. His eyes were dark and calculating and his beard was unkempt. "You are the teachers from the castle, I presume?" Dumbledore simply nodded. "I thought as much. I am called Bane."

Dumbledore didn't have time to offer his own greetings as one of the Acromantulas approached the congregation. It was much larger than the others, perhaps the size of a small elephant. Its wiry fur stuck out at odd angles, and its razor sharp fangs glistened in the moonlight. Most notable of all the spider's features were its eyes. All eight were milky white. It was completely blind.

"Hagrid, is that you?" There was a funny clicking sound when it spoke, as if it were rustling its fangs against each other. Bane eyed the Acromantula uneasily, running his fingers up and down an arrow over his shoulder.

"All righ' there, eh, Aragog?" Hagrid sounded nervous and eager at the same time.

"Something is wrong," Moody growled from behind them. Dumbledore merely nodded so he would hush. The Auror was always suspicious.

Dumbledore calmly regarded the centaur and Acromantula. "What can we do for you?" he said.

Bane was the first to speak. "The sky tells us many things, human. Normally, I wouldn't be bothered to socialize with your kind, but I fear this affects us all. I come to you tonight with a warning."

"A warning?" Dumbledore asked skeptically.

The centaur continued as if he had not been interrupted. "Jupiter sees death in every corner. A vestige of circles, ever present, ever lurking. The dagger shall fall, and the blade will rise."

Hagrid snorted. "What's tha' s'posed ter mean, Bane? Tell us summat we can understan'."

Bane scowled at him. "You humans are so primitive. You do not listen, and you refuse to see what is painted before your eyes."

Tiny Professor Flitwick spoke up then. "Perhaps Professor Trelawney would have more luck with him. Divination is her area of expertise, after all."

"Yes, Filius," Dumbledore replied. "Unfortunately, however, she is not with us at the moment. It will have to wait. Bane, please take your herd over to Hagrid's paddock. I will rejoin you shortly there."

The centaur gave an exasperated huff but did as he was told, rounding up the other centaurs and departing at a swift trot. They were soon out of eyesight and earshot, swallowed by the night. The magical fire died, leaving only smoking grass and the entire colony of Acromantulas.

Hagrid took a few steps closer to the gargantuan leader of the spiders. "Why've yeh brough' the colony up ter the castle, yeh dolt?"

Aragog clicked his pincers menacingly. "There are ravens in the forest. Hundreds of them, it seems. They descended on us like a pack of wolves, decimating my family. We had no choice but to leave."

"Ravens?" Hagrid looked astonished. "I didn't know there were ravens 'round here."

"Nor did I," Aragog said. "But the bodies of my children back there in the forest speak the truth. We will establish a new colony, free of these demons."

At that moment, the castle door opened again, emitting a small pool of light that illuminated the five of them and the great spider. Severus Snape dipped his head around the opening, his mouth open to say something, but he stopped short at the sight of hundreds of spider eyes leering back at him from the darkness. He managed to regain his composure however, and simply said, "Headmaster, Professor Trelawney has requested your presence. I believe it to be quite urgent. I have left her in the care of Mr. Filch until you arrive."

"Thank you, Severus. Filius, Minerva, please remain and begin casting shield charms around this perimeter. Aragog and his kin may stay until we find more suitable accommodations. Hagrid, Severus, Alastor, please come with me."

The quartet retreated back through the doors and hurried up the marble staircase towards the North Tower. Hagrid spoke as they walked.

"Professor Dumbledore, sir, I was wonderin'…wha' is the range on tha' Portkey?"

Dumbledore smiled to himself. 'Yes, Hagrid, I believe it will encompass the grounds, including your house. Perhaps it will extend so far as the lake. We will simply have to wait and see. Lumos," he ignited his wand tip as they entered the particularly dark regions of the castle.

The hallways were eerily silent except for the soft snores that came from the portraits hanging on the walls. Dumbledore began to feel that eyes were watching him, but he knew it was just his imagination. They rounded the last bend to the North Tower and started up the stairs. The trapdoor leading up to the classroom hung open, and the ladder had been lowered for their use.

"I'll wait here," Moody said. "I'm no good with ladders," he gestured to his wooden limb for emphasis.

Inside, the faint aroma of must mixed with scented perfume met their nostrils. The Divination classroom had the feeling of an old attic crossed with a disorganized tea shop. Sybill Trelawney sat behind her desk, clutching the darkly polished wood with both hands. Her face was deathly white.

Argus Filch had been standing in one corner of the room, but came over to greet them now. "She's been like that since I arrived, Dumbledore. Wouldn't dare say a word, 'cept that she needed to see you."

Dumbledore nodded and approached the desk timidly. It was cluttered with an assortment of objects, but first and foremost was the crystal ball that sat directly facing the Divination teacher.

"Sybill, dear, what is it?"

She looked at him then from behind glasses that magnified her eyes to an enormous size. She gave off the impression of an insect with those lenses. Some of the colour returned to her face, and she removed her hands from the desktop. "A-Albus," she stuttered. "I knew y-you would c-come. This p-place we are going t-to…it is n-not safe."

"What are you on about, my dear?" he was truly perplexed.

"I s-saw something in t-the crystal ball," she replied. Her lips went thin and white then.

"What did you see?" he asked.

She took a deep breath and spoke again. Her stutter was completely gone this time. "Not what. Whom." When none of them interrupted, she continued. "Shai'tan. He said his name was Shai'tan."

Abruptly, whatever sanity she had retained vanished and the Seer screamed. Pain blazed in Dumbledore's ears; it sounded like her very soul was aflame. She thrashed violently, falling out of her chair, and was silent.

Snape walked over behind the desk and bent to check on her. When he rose, his back was stiff. "Headmaster," the Potions Master said, "she's dead."

Azkaban

The immense walls of the prison complex served little purpose other than to keep the structure intact. If one didn't go mad within weeks, being emotionally tormented by the Dementors, there was still no hope of escape. The rocky island the fortress sat upon was in the middle of the North Sea. It was Unplottable and completely impenetrable.

Tom Marvolo Riddle, Jr. calmly sauntered up to the rusted and iron bound door and pointed his wand at the hinges. "Expulso," Voldemort muttered, and the door simply exploded, bolts flying everywhere.

The corridor he entered was walled by rough stones on both sides. A single torch sat by a door at the end of the hall. Voldemort ignored this door, instead turning down an adjacent chamber.

A Dementor patrolled the next hallway, creepily gliding back and forth. It was completely hooded and cloaked, with a small opening for its mouth. Voldemort had heard enough stories about the Dementor's Kiss, and had no desire to experience it. "EXPECTO PATRONUM!"He bellowed and slashed his wand through the air. A coiled serpent that had the colour and texture of smoke was expelled from his wand and slithered through the air towards the Dementor. The Patronus wrapped its body around the creature, crushing the life force out of it. When the Patronus died, nothing remained of the Dementor but a heap of robes on the floor.

Riddle hurried on until he came to a stark chamber that was lined with cells on both sides. Despite the late hour, he could hear muttering from behind several of the locked doors.

He stopped before the third door on the right and peered through the thin metal bars into the cell itself. A middle aged woman sat on the floor, staring back at him. She had a crazed gleam in her eye and her black hair stuck up in wild curls. "Master," she crooned.

"My first lieutenant," he replied. "Stand. Come over here."

The woman did as she was told and came to face him through the bars. He passed his wand through to her. "I would have done it myself," he explained, "but I didn't want to kill you with an exploding door."

She smiled at him with decaying teeth and took the proffered wand. "Stand back, then, My Lord," she said.

He backed down the hall a few feet and waited. He assumed she used the same spell as he had, for it had the same effect. Chunks of the cell door littered the small expanse of hall. She burst out of her cell gleefully, her eyes glinting maniacally.

"I say we leave the others here to rot!" she cackled madly.

"But we aren't leaving, Bellatrix," Voldemort said coolly.

She stopped smiling, then. "I don't understand."

"The Portkey should have already been triggered. We'll have to go outside to notice any changes, I suppose. But you've been out of the loop, haven't you? No matter. I'll explain everything in time. But for now, get those doors open. Four, if I do remember."

Bella hid her curiosity and did as she was commanded. She fired her wand at the first cell door, and her estranged husband strolled out.

"Bellatrix, my love! So good to see you!"

"Shut your mouth or I'll kill you where you stand," she retorted.

Rodolphus, for a wonder, looked slightly hurt but came to kneel before Voldemort. "Rise, my faithful servant," Riddle said.

Three more doors exploded in a metal shower and Rodolphus's brother, Rabastan, joined them, accompanied by Augustus Rookwood and Antonin Dolohov.

"Welcome, friends," Voldemort said. "Now that you're all here, let me fill you in on the happy details. The Portkey I brought here just teleported us to another world, so to speak. Indeed, we have moved this island, the Ministry of Magic, and Hogwarts School to another universe."

"How is that possible, and to what end?" Rookwood asked.

"Well, you see, hundreds of witches and wizards disappeared on the day of the World Cup. Presumably, the Ministry-established Portkeys malfunctioned and took them to this uncharted place."

"And now you've trapped us there as well?" Suddenly Rodolphus wasn't so pleased.

Voldemort glared at him. "Perhaps. Perhaps not. In any case, it's done now."

Rabastan spoke up. "What if—er---say, one of us doesn't want to go?"

Voldemort pointed his wand at the other man. "Avada Kedavra!" A jet of green light streaked from his wand tip and struck Rabastan squarely in the chest. The Death Eater crumpled to the floor.

The four of them stiffened as their comrade died before their eyes. Voldemort smiled. It had an odd effect on his snakelike face. "Any other questions?"

Author's Note: Comments, questions, praise, critique? ~ Denmar