Disclaimer I do not own Harry Potter and everything recognisable belongs to J K Rowling. Also this story is inspired by 'A Shattered Prophecy' by Project Dark Overlord.
Chapter Ten
Dumbledore listened with disappointment as his Order members explained how their plan was foiled by the arrival of Hit wizards who took the Dark Prince.
"It's all Moody's fault!" Sirius blamed. "He called the Hit squad."
"I didn't call for the Hit squad!" Moody argued. "I sent a distress signal which was picked up by them instead of the Aurors!"
"You should have sent the signal here, at the headquarters." James said, annoyed beyond measure. "The Order would have sent reinforcement."
"And what if there wasn't anyone at the headquarters to receive the signal?" Moody asked in return, his voice low and gruff in his anger. "Headquarters isn't always occupied. What was I supposed to do then? I did what is protocol! I saw we were outnumbered and I asked for back up. I did nothing wrong!"
"Nothing wrong?" James thundered. "You gave the boy to the Ministry! Now we haven't got any control over what happens. Fudge will probably have the boy killed immediately!"
Even as he said the words, James felt his heart ache with sudden pain at the thought. He didn't understand why but the thought of Dementors attacking the boy was deeply disturbing. He dismissed it as anxiety over a child, by normal standards, being destroyed in such a cruel way.
"He won't do that." Kingsley consoled. "The Minister has to give him a trial before he can sentence him to anything."
"Yeah, but I can't see the Minister doing any such thing." Remus said. "He will want information, any information on You-Know-Who. When he has what he needs, or if the boy doesn't comply, Fudge will have him destroyed. He'll want the wizarding world to know he's in control and what a difference he can make as the Minister for Magic. Having the Dark Prince killed will give him more popularity than ever and do wonders for his political profile."
James knew Remus was right. Fudge would do just about anything to gain public favour as so many had such little faith in him.
"There's got to be something we can do." James said desperately. "Dumbledore?" he turned to him hopefully.
With a tired sigh, Dumbledore pulled away his intertwined hands on which he had been leaning, and dropped them down.
"I had hoped that the Order was successful in bringing in the Dark Prince." he started, ignoring Moody's uncomfortable shifting in his seat. "I truly believed we had a chance to get to Voldemort through the boy. It's unfortunate that we failed." he looked up at James. "I'm afraid that if the Ministry has the Dark Prince, there is nothing we can do to influence the situation. Minister Fudge will not listen to reason. His fear of Voldemort means he won't be willing to lure him in a trap. He will destroy the boy, in the hopes of winning public support."
James felt his heart sink at that.
"He's as good as dead." Sirius stated, referring to the Dark Prince.
"Good!" Moody grunted. "One less enemy for us."
James got up from the table and walked out, unable to stay seated. He left the small dining room and headed to the kitchen. Since it was only an informal debriefing that they were having, James didn't feel it was wrong of him to leave.
"James? Prongs, wait up!" Sirius followed him. "What's wrong?" he asked, seeing the distress on his friend.
"I don't know!" James said, sounding furious. "I don't know what it is but something doesn't feel right!"
Sirius thought he understood.
"You mean about the Dark Prince getting the Kiss?" he asked. "I know, it feels weird since he's only a kid and everything."
James ran a hand through his hair, a nervous habit he had developed over the years.
"This sucks!" he hissed. "We did all the planning, we laid out the trap, risked our lives and we don't get to even see him!"
Sirius gave James a strange look.
"See him?" he questioned.
"You know, see him." James repeated. "See what he looks like."
"Why would you care?" Sirius asked with half a smirk and a raised eyebrow.
James paused for a moment, looking at Sirius.
"Aren't you curious to see what he looks like?" he asked. "Under that mask, what he looks like?"
Sirius just shrugged.
"Not really." he replied. "It doesn't bother me. He's the son of Voldemort. He's going to look like him." he dismissed.
James didn't say anything but looked away, his mind still reeling from the fact that he didn't get to see the boy, talk to him or see him without that mask.
"I wish we were the ones who arrested him." he said with a deep sigh.
"I know," Sirius said in understanding. "Just think, if we had him, we would be interrogating him about now."
James looked up at Sirius, his heart somersaulting painfully in his chest again. Sirius' words made him think about what the boy was going through at Nurmengard.
xxx
It was the faint sound of metal hitting metal that Harry heard when he regained consciousness. His eyes opened but he couldn't focus, his sight blurry and hazy. He could hear people talking, the voices quiet and unfamiliar. It took him a few minutes to fully wake up, for his mind to come out of it's numbed state and when he did, he almost passed out again. The pain was almost unbearable. It was to such an extent that Harry didn't know where the pain was originating from. Every part of him hurt and even breathing was difficult as his sides hurt too much for him to take in a full proper breath.
"Come around, have you? That was quick." said a voice with a heavy Welsh accent.
A face appeared over Harry, smiling down at him. Harry realised at that point that he was lying down on a bed. He blinked a few times, trying to get his eyesight to clear up so he could make out where he was. The action made the middle aged man smile.
"You're in Nurmengard." the brown haired man said, as if reading the question in Harry's mind. "I'm Healer Bennett, the prison Healer. It's my job to fix you up, so you can await your trial."
Seeing Harry's struggle to take in a proper breath, the Healer moved his hand towards Harry's stomach, to assess the extent of bruising, both internal and external. On instinct, Harry's hand shot out, grabbing the man by the wrist.
The Healer looked startled but quickly regained his composure.
"Relax, I'm not going to hurt you." he said, freeing himself from the boy's grip.
Harry snorted but the sound got lost in his grunt of pain as the Healer pressed on his stomach.
"That was one nasty fall you had." the Healer said, making conversation. "You've broken your leg in two places and cracked five ribs." he shook his head as his fingers poked at the broken ribs, making Harry groan in agony. "You're lucky you didn't die." Then taking a look at the boy he added, "Perhaps lucky isn't the right word."
Harry closed his eyes, trying to work his mind through the pain and make sense of what was happening.
He had been caught.
He couldn't believe he was captured. He mentally berated himself for bringing down his shield and giving the four Aurors the chance to hit him. The last thing he remembered was plummeting two floors down and crashing onto the concrete ground. It was no wonder he was hurting so badly.
He opened his eyes and mentally sighed with relief as his vision cleared up. He looked around the room, it's grey walls and lack of windows didn't make him feel any better. He heard the clink of metal hitting metal again and Harry turned his head in the direction of the sound. He saw a man with short blond hair and blue eyes, sitting a little away from him. He had a metal tray resting on a small trolley in front of him. There was a small pile of metal objects in the tray and the man was sitting, toying with one of the items, tapping it against the metal tray. Harry realised it was a dagger, his dagger.
Rage boiled up inside him at the sight of his weapons in somebody else's hands. He narrowed his eyes at the man, his teeth clenching together in fury.
"Don't!" he growled at the man, unable to say more as the pain of speaking just that one word had him panting in agony.
The man stopped toying with the dagger but he smirked at Harry. The Healer turned his head to see what Harry had meant. He saw the man with the dagger and he shook his head.
"I told you not to touch his things." he said to the blond haired man.
The man laughed and stood up, walking over to Harry and the Healer.
"It's not his things any more. It's confiscated artillery." he grinned at Harry in a feral sort of way. "That's some inventory you have here." he said, speaking directly to Harry. "It's a shame. All those weapons and you still get caught." he chuckled.
Harry glared at him, unable to speak as his jaw was clenched tightly together to deal with the pain of the Healer checking him, aggravating his injuries and making the pain spike to new levels.
"Jackson, do you mind?" the Healer said, sounding mildly annoyed. "He'll be all yours in a few minutes. You can mock him all you like then. Let me fix him up first."
The man, Jackson, moved away obediently but his blue eyes never left Harry.
"All right, here we go." the Healer said, pulling out his wand. "This is going to hurt, just a little."
Harry cried out as the spell hit his ribs and all five cracked back into place at the same time. It was incredibly painful but quick. Harry took in a breath, relieved he could breathe properly. His sides still hurt but the pain was more manageable.
"It'll still hurt," the Healer said, taking a step towards the end of the bed, to work on Harry's leg. "I would suggest you co operate and give the guards no trouble while you're at Nurmengard." The Healer said, glancing at the blond haired man sitting beside the trolley again. "It'll be better for you. They won't hurt you if you don't give them a reason." The advice seemed genuine from the Healer.
Harry looked over at the blond haired man with a hateful glower. Paul Jackson, Nurmengard's guard, smirked at Harry, raising his eyebrows at him.
"Okay, brace yourself again." The Healer said and cast the spell to fix the two broken bones in Harry's leg.
The sharp stab of pain had Harry clench his teeth together. His body went rigid. He breathed nosily through his nose, trying to deal with the jolt of white hot pain that erupted in his leg. It dulled down but continued to throb painfully.
The Healer stepped away from Harry, pocketing his wand.
"There, all done." he said. He looked at Jackson. "Did you find out if I can give him any potions?"
Jackson shook his head.
"Standard policy." he said. "No potions for prisoners."
Healer Bennett looked uncertain as he glanced at Harry again.
"It's special circumstances. He's considerably more injured than most admissions and...he's young."
Jackson turned to look at the Healer.
"If you're willing to take the fall, then go ahead." he said, "Give him pain relief potion and whatever else it is you want to give him but be prepared to answer for it."
The Healer looked conflicted, as if he was seriously considering giving the boy some pain relief, even if it was against protocol.
"No one will sympathise with you." Jackson pointed out. "You'd be breaking the rules but for who?" his eyes flashed angrily at Harry.
Healer Bennett looked over at Harry as well, his compassion quickly evaporating at the recollection of who the boy's father was.
"I'm done here." the Healer said. "You can take him away."
Jackson smirked and walked over to Harry. Before he could say a word, Harry pulled himself to sit up, not wanting to be told what to do. His action only made the guard smirk.
"Our own little celebrity," he teased. "The son of You-Know-Who."
Harry couldn't help but smirk. The man was so damn afraid, he couldn't say his father's name out loud. How much of a threat could he be?
Gritting his teeth, Harry swung both legs over the edge of the bed. Although his broken bones were all fixed, the pain was still there along with the swelling and bruising. That would only go away with time and some anti-inflammatory potion. Some pain relief potion would do wonders too.
"I can't believe he had you hidden for so long." Jackson continued. "You're a nasty little surprise."
Harry raised an eyebrow.
"Isn't that what your dad said to your mum when you were born?" his voice was still rough and painful but Harry still managed the insult.
Jackson looked more amused than offended.
"Cheeky little bastard!" he chuckled. "This will be fun."
"Can't wait." Harry added dryly.
Jackson turned and pointed at the tray full of Harry's possessions.
"As you can probably tell, I relieved you of your things while you were still knocked out." he gestured to the tray. "You won't be seeing those again." he snapped his fingers and the tray filled with Harry's weapons disappeared with a pop. Harry had caught sight of his silver mask sitting in the tray, among his daggers, knives and ninja stars. His black and silver ring that he always wore, was lying on top of the mask. All of it disappeared, leaving the tray empty. Harry glared angrily at Jackson. "The only thing I couldn't get from you, is this." he pointed at Harry's silver pendant, hanging from his neck. "Pretty little thing," he commented. "Threw me across the room when I tried to take it off." he stared at Harry, his blue eyes hardening. "Take it off."
Harry pushed himself to stand up, so he was looking at the guard at eye level. His legs trembled under him and a crippling pain shot up his leg but Harry forced himself to stay standing.
"Make me!" he hissed back.
Jackson stared at Harry for a moment before he smirked again.
"You're going to make the next few days very interesting!" he said, grinning widely.
He stepped back, away from Harry, making no more fuss about the silver pendant. Harry reached over and took a hold of the pendant, tucking it underneath his robes. He felt the coolness against his chest and the feeling comforted him. At least a part of his father was with him, in this mess.
xxx
Harry walked, regardless of how painful it was, down the long winding corridors with two guards on either side. Jackson was leading them down the dark, cold corridor to Harry's cell.
Harry took in the prison, his eyes darting to all corners. The jet black walls seemed to stretch forever and the fact that there were no windows in sight unnerved Harry. He had read about Nurmengard during one of his study sessions with Lucius. He remembered reading about the wizard that build this place, Gellert Grindelward. He had built this prison for his enemies but he ended up incarcerated in it when Dumbledore defeated him, almost fifty years ago. Grindelward had died in this very prison, a few years ago. After his death, the prison was changed to a holding prison. It's used by Hit wizards and the Ministry now, to hold criminals until their trial.
A hard shove between his shoulder blades nearly made him lose his balance. Harry turned around to glare at the guard that had pushed him.
"Hurry up!" the man barked at him.
Harry's hands curled into fists but he resisted the temptation of lashing out. They were only trying to find an excuse so they could hurt him, he wouldn't give it to them.
Harry quickened his pace, as much as his battered and bruised body would allow him. The shooting pain in his leg was increasing in intensity and had Harry praying they arrived at his cell quickly, so he could sit down. He could see the rows upon rows of empty cells but the guards kept walking by them, leading Harry deeper into the prison. Harry knew they were only doing it to make him suffer, to keep him on his feet as long as possible.
At last the guards stopped at one of the cells. Jackson opened it and stood by the iron barred door.
"Your room, Prince." he mocked.
Harry walked inside, ignoring the claustrophobic effect the small, dark, windowless cell had. He turned to smirk at Jackson.
"I asked for a room with a view."
Jackson raised an eyebrow at him. He slammed the door of the cell shut in response, locking it with a loud click. He leaned against the bars, staring at Harry.
"Rest as much as you can." he advised. "The interrogations will take a lot out of you." he smiled at him. "Night, Prince. Sleep well and I'll see you in the morning."
He walked away, leading the two men away with him. Only once the three guards disappeared from view, did Harry lean against the wall, sliding down it to rest on the floor. His back was against the cold wall and he straightened out his legs, biting his lip to hold in his gasp of pain. He vaguely wondered if there was any point in fixing his broken bones if it was going to continue to hurt so much anyway.
His mind wandered to tomorrow and the interrogations he was going to have to face. He felt panicked, what if they questioned him using Vertiserum? He shook his head to clear it.
"Get a grip, Harry!" he scolded himself. He would just have to face tomorrow when it came. No point in worrying about it now.
Harry glanced up at his cell door. Biting his lip, Harry picked himself up, standing gingerly, trying his best not to put too much weight on his sore leg. He walked over to the door and looked at it, running a hand over the bars, before it rested on the square plate that held the locking mechanism. It needed magic to open it, not a key.
Harry closed his eyes, breathed out deeply and let his magic take over. It took thirty seconds for the door to unlock, the loud click ringing in the empty cell. Harry opened his eyes and smiled. He mentally thanked his father for pushing him to learn wandless magic when he was eight. He had hated it then, argued it was too hard and he couldn't understand it but Voldemort kept training him, refusing to accept Harry's protests. The result was that at the age of sixteen, Harry could do almost as many spells wandlessly as he could with a wand.
Harry sighed and locked the door again, turning to sit back down. He could open his cell door but that didn't mean he could escape. He remembered quite clearly what he had read about Nurmegard. It was a prison built on a small island surrounded by the Atlantic ocean. Even if he somehow got past the guards in his current state, without his wand or weapons, he couldn't go anywhere. He was stuck on the island.
Dejectedly, Harry pulled out his father's Horcrux and held it in his hand, feeling oddly comforted by the emerald jewelled pendant. They were going to force him to take the pendant off. Harry knew it. That was why the guard hadn't tried anything now. That's why he had commented on how interesting Harry was going to make things. Jackson obviously liked a challenge and knew Harry was going to be one.
Harry sighed, tucking his pendant back under his robes. They were going to have to kill him to get the pendant. He would never give it up while he was still alive. Thinking about the Horcrux led to thoughts about Voldemort. Harry wondered how his father was coping. His scar was hurting but not as much as the rest of him. Harry was glad about that.
Then, just as Sod's law would have it, Harry felt the prickly burn in his scar begin to get worse.
"No, no, no!" Harry whispered, pressing a hand to his scar. "Please, father! Not now!"
The burn turned to pain which quickly escalated to agony. Harry pressed his hand against the scar, teeth digging at his bottom lip, to keep himself quiet. The pain only got worse, to the point that Harry let out a strangled moan. His scar felt like it was on fire. Harry dropped to the ground, his fingers clawing at his forehead. It felt like a white hot poker was being held onto his forehead.
Harry cried out, his voice echoing in the empty cell. He had never felt his scar hurt with such ferocity before. Added to that was the pain from his injuries which reduced his ability to withstand his scar hurting.
The burn in his scar continued for what seemed like hours to Harry before it finally began to subside. Harry passed out from exhaustion before he could be thankful for it.
xxx
Voldemort stood in his chamber, his back turned to the Death Eaters gathered there. He couldn't look at them without losing his temper again. He focused his gaze on the window, distracting himself, if only for a moment.
With an iron grip on his temper, he turned around to face the group of wizards. His gaze darted to the only female Death Eater and the rage returned almost ten fold at seeing her bowed head and distressed expression. She had failed him. Bella had failed to bring back Harry. She had returned whereas his son had been captured. It took all of Voldemort's resolve not to reach for his wand and kill her where she stood.
Bella glanced up at him, almost as if she could feel Voldemort's hate filled gaze on her. She looked down again, squeezing her her eyes shut to block out the disappointment she saw directed at her. It had been years since she had felt the Cruciatus curse from her master's wand. The pain was deserved, she knew that. She had felt the anger through the curse as it tortured her and she knew how badly she had let her Lord down. She thought about Harry, picturing him in her mind's eye, seeing the playful smirk on his face and his laugh rang in her head. Her heart skipped several beats. She had let him down as well.
A few paces away from her, stood Lucius Malfoy. Lucius was called only ten minutes ago by Lord Voldemort. He hadn't understood why his Lord wanted to see him with such urgency but upon arriving he learned what had happened. His mask of indifference was firmly in place but on the inside, he was panicking. Harry had been captured and they had no idea where the Order was holding him. They didn't even know for certain if the Order had him or if the red robed Hit wizards had taken him. If the latter was the case, Harry could be anywhere.
Lucius looked at Bella as he saw his master's gaze fall on her. He felt disappointment well up inside him at the sight of her. How could she allow Harry to be captured? If he had been sent to help Harry, he would not have failed. He would have torn the Order apart to get to Harry.
The doors to Voldemort's chamber opened and a Death Eater hurried inside. The man bowed down in front of Voldemort.
Voldemort took a hasty step towards the man, his eyes narrowing at him.
"Snape!" he hissed. "What did you find out?" he asked with urgency.
Severus Snape stood up, his face hidden behind the skull mask. He removed it so Voldemort could see into his eyes, to see he wasn't lying.
"My Lord, the Order doesn't have him." he replied.
Voldemort closed his eyes, a hiss of anger and rage escaping him. The Death Eaters all took a step back, afraid of their master's volatile temper.
"The Ministry has him." Snape continued, dark eyes taking in the Voldemort's reaction. "The Minister had a team of Hit wizards sent after him. They picked up the distress call the Order sent and got to the Dark Prince before the Order could."
Voldemort took a single step towards the greasy haired professor. His red eyes were blazing with an anger so deep it was terrifying. Snape had to break his eye contact.
"Where have they taken him?" he asked, his voice dangerously low.
Snape swallowed heavily, pushing his fear deep down.
"I don't know, my Lord."
Snape was certain he was going to be tortured. The expression that twisted on the Dark Lord's face gave Snape goosebumps with fear. He saw the look in the red eyes that promised unimaginable pain.
He was right.
The cruciatus curse hit him with full force and had Snape on the ground in seconds. The spell ripped into him, making it feel as though his bones were being crushed, muscles were twisted and torn and his blood boiled with agony. The curse lifted, leaving Snape panting for breath. Snape closed his eyes, took in a deep breath and picked himself up from the floor.
Voldemort had turned his back on him but he raised a hand and the doors behind them smashed open.
"Leave!" he hissed at his Death Eaters. "Go and find out where Fudge is keeping my son! I want the information by sunrise." He turned to look at the terrified looking group. "Don't bother coming back unless you have the location." he warned.
The men bowed and hurried to leave the chamber, visibly worried about how to complete their master's orders. How could they find out such information in so little time? They all left, except for Bella and Lucius. They knew that if Voldemort had wanted them to leave as well, he would said 'leave, all of you.' That was their only signal to leave. Otherwise they were to wait in the chamber. Snape left too, hurrying to get away from the angry Dark Lord. The door closed after him, leaving only Lucius and Bella with Lord Voldemort.
"My Lord," Lucius spoke hesitantly. "We can find out where Harry is from our sources at the Ministry." he said, offering hope. "They can make it so his trial is delayed, that will give us time to rescue him from wherever he's being kept..."
"He's hurt."
The words were whispered but both men heard them just the same. They both turned to look at Bella. Her heavy lidded eyes lifted to meet their gaze.
"We can't delay anything. We need to get to him now." she said with urgency.
Voldemort looked away, trying desperately to hold onto his temper. It was watching Bella's memory of his son's capture that had made him lose control. He saw how injured Harry was, how he came crashing through the roof of the floor above. He saw how the three men dragged him unceremoniously from the wreckage. It was just as well that he heard them say Harry was still alive, it was the only thing that made him reign in his anger so he didn't hurt Harry. He knew that even though Harry was far away from him, his extreme anger would still affect Harry somewhat and Voldemort didn't want to add to his misery. Merlin knew what state he was in and how he was coping.
xxx