CHAPTER NINE: The Prisoners of Azkaban

The actual location of the island of Azkaban prison has been Unplottable since its inception nearly 500 years ago, as has it's the corresponding port of harbor. Even the most knowledgeable wizards in the world, including Albus Dumbledore, know its location simply as, somewhere in the north of the North Sea. The specific location is actually no longer known by any living soul not even the Auror guardians. For more than four centuries, the only person who might have been able to find the island was Sirius Black, who escaped the prison on foot and made his own way back to England.

The actual process of getting there is known by several high-ranking Ministry and Wizengamot members, but still remains a closely guarded secret. The first steps for Harry and Draco included an apparation trip from Godric's Hollow to just outside a phone booth in northwestern London. Taking the phone booth down to the lobby of the Ministry of Magic, they encountered Minister Scrimgeor and only a few photographers. Harry gritted his teeth and considered that if Dumbledore could risk death to get a Horcrux, then he could put up with the Minister and his spin machine for 15 minutes.

"Sir, we really should be going," Harry announced.

The short delay with Scrimgeor had evolved into a three-hour question and answer session with five reporters on the best of terms with the Ministry, including Rita Skeeter. She had been leading the charge to discover the truth behind Draco "Potter" and that had been the point of most of her questions so far today. It was certainly no longer a secret and a severe lack of facts did nothing to stop it being on the last dozen Prophet covers. The idea of a second Potter who might be more reasonable than Harry intrigued the administration, who had obviously never met Draco before.

"Why did you choose to change your name on your last journey here? How long have you been ashamed to be a Malfoy? Are recently rediscovered documents that claim you are the son of James and Lily Potter accurate? Can you explain how they magically appeared in Ministry files after nearly 20 years? Which family do you prefer? What is your exact relationship with Harry Potter? Do you make any claim to the title of 'the Chosen One'?"

Draco had taken the position that Harry himself had wished he had adopted with Rita years ago. The young man sat there and attempted to bore two holes through the reporter's forehead. He remained simply sitting there and offering no verbal or nonverbal response to any of the questions no matter how disgustingly inappropriate.. Draco sat there with an impassive expression on his face that reminded Harry of the Malfoy days. No matter what type of emotional blubbering Potter he was becoming, Draco would not give this woman the satisfaction of a reaction. Harry had grown tired of this mockery two hours ago and repeated, "Minister Scrimgeor, I'm sure you remember we still have a long journey ahead of us, so…"

"Of course, Mr. Potter," an obviously disappointed Scrimgeor muttered. Excusing the group, he led them to Basement Level Two and down the hall past the desks full of Aurors and into Robards' office. On the way, Harry noticed Shakelbolt's desk was perfectly cleared off, as if he had not been there in months. Draco remembered he had mentioned something about the wedding about being forced to guard the Muggle Minister. It was widely regarded by the Order as a ploy to keep him out of the loop. Luckily, Harry noticed a sly nod from Tonks just before entering the office.

Harry and Draco quickly changed into their wizarding robes, anxious for the journey to begin. The taller man walked to his bookshelf and handed Harry an old tattered copy of Defensive Magic Tactics of the 12 Century. When both young men were holding it, he announced, "Delego Azkaban."

The feeling of a hook behind his navel overtook Harry as he was swept into the portkey. They arrived in a room with no windows or doors. A single elderly witch sat in a rocking chair beside a roaring fire. She smiled at the boys and explained, "Welcome to the way-point, Mr. Potter and… Mr. Potter. I'm Broomhilda Frickey and unless you want your stay at Azkaban Prison to become permanent, you'll follow my instructions to the letter. Nobody in the world knows where we are right now. All you need to know is that this fireplace is the only one in the world that connects to a very particular and special small boathouse."

Harry glanced down at the fire, while she continued, "Both the dockyards and island itself are Unplottable. Even the prisoners and guards have no idea where exactly in the world they are. It will be a three-hour boat ride to Azkaban Island. All wands must be checked in at the dock station. Under no circumstances may a wand be brought up to the main prison building itself. You will follow your guide exactly. Leatchers have been installed since the Dementors left us."

"What's a leatcher?" Harry asked.

"As I was saying… leatchers are small crystal devices that hang from most of the hallways of the prison and routinely siphon off magic from those in close proximity. It stops the prisoners from building up any strength to summon anything or apparate away. In addition there are apparation wards covering every millimeter of the entire island. You will be taking to a private audience chamber to speak with one Mundungus Fletcher. You will have one hour with him before you will be escorted back to the mainland with a return time of midnight. For your own protection we will deviate from this schedule for no reason. Understand?"

Both boys nodded as Frickey grabbed her cane and stood up. She walked to the fire and threw in the floo powder. Without naming a destination, she stuck her head in and announced the two incoming travelers. Harry stepped through first and found he nearly tripped out into a small room with four chairs around the fire. A pair of fierce-looking Aurors quickly grabbed him roughly and pulled him to his feet just before Draco came through. Without a word they led the boys outside.

The hilly countryside reminded Harry of the area around the cave with the fake locket. He also noted that the sun seemed to be in the same place in the sky. It wouldn't surprise him at all if there were somewhere along the coast of Scotland. Harry motioned upward towards the sun to Draco. He just nodded that he had seen it as well and followed their wordless companions down a dirt path. Tied to a small dock was a single rowboat with another Auror, a mid-sized and round faced man in his late-30s. There was no need for explanation as Harry and Draco took their seats and the silent Auror waved his wand. The oars began rowing on their own, pushing them away from shore at a slow, but steady pace.

As the trip continued, Harry and Draco sat there without exchanging a single word. A few times Draco looked over to his brother and cursed how good they had become at reading each other. Both might have been incredibly nervous, but neither wanted to convey that to the other. Draco's right hand never went far away from the pocket that held his wand. Trying to calm himself, Harry thought about what a perfectly lovely day it had been. For all the tears, morose thoughts and fear, he thought it should have been raining since daybreak. But the sun set in the western sky to their left with nary a cloud in the sky all day. Sure enough, the Ministry kept to their timetable precisely. Exactly three hours after departure, a great brick building began to rise out of the horizon.

Azkaban Island itself was the size of several Quidditch stadiums. The only places not covered by the long flat building were the docks and a cemetery on a hill. On the eastern edge of the island and large tower rose out of lower complex. When they were closer, Harry could make out the lights of a few fires in the tower that held the administrative offices for the complex. The island was every bit as desolate and lifeless as they had imagined it. Many a dark wizard, many a cruel and abhorrent person had wasted away and died here. And while the smell might not indicate it too much, the island was a home of pain and death and rotting away. This was no place for a soul to reside. The boat hit the side of the dock roughly jarring them from their evaluation of the island.

"Step off, report to the master at arms," the boat driver ordered curtly.

Stepping from the rocking boat, Harry could have sworn he heard thunder in the distance. At the end of the long narrow dock was a small tollbooth with a scruffy middle-aged wizard sitting in it. The dock was at the lowest part of the island and a 50-meter cliff rose up just behind it with just a single rocky path twisting along to the right. From nearly the top of the cliff, a putrid smell was emanating from a drainage pipe that emptied into the sea. A long scar was visible on the guard's neck as if someone had tried to slice him open from ear to ear, but the head apparently refused to depart.. Both the smell and the appearance of the guard only reinforced the strong desire for one to not be in this place, to run away and to never return.

Coughing, he demanded, "State your name and purpose."

"Harry and Draco Potter, here, to speak with a prisoner, Mundungus Fletcher, with the permission of the Minister for Magic," he answered. The master at arms looked carefully at a logbook. Draco remained silent, but noted that it only had a single appointment listed in it. Taking longer than necessary, the guard tapped the names in his book before he looked back up at them. Harry covered his mouth at the stench from the sewer water running down the cliff not too far away.

Extending his left hand and keeping his right out of site under their view, the guard ordered, "Surrender your wands for the duration of your stay."

First Harry and then more reluctantly Draco placed their wands in the out-stretched hand and watched as he placed them in a metal safe behind him. There were only a dozen wands in there. If there were no other guests and no wands allowed inside that meant the whole lot of captured dark and criminal wizards in England were being watched over by the leatchers and 11 or 12 unarmed wizards and witches. Harry began to feel more of the nervous tension Draco was radiating.

A tall witch with dark purple eyes came out from behind the shack and said in a gentle, but insistent voice, "Gentlemen, please follow me and do not stray."

She led the way up the winding path. It seemed as if it encircled the outer edge of more than half the island before sharply cutting up past the graveyard filled with dozens of nameless grave markers. At the end of the graveyard they came upon a large metal door cut out of the stone walls of the prison. Taking a key out of her robes, the witch opened the great door and led them inside. There was nothing beside bare rock walls along every corridor. After about fifteen minutes, Harry realized the prison must be enchanted to appear smaller than it really is. Though their pace never broke in the slightest, he suspected they would forever be lost along the many twists and turns and identical stone passageways without their companion. How anyone could learn these passageways in less than a lifetime seemed unbelievable.

Finally, she opened another door and motioned for them to enter. A single wooden table was set in the middle of the bare room with two chairs on this side and a single stool on the opposite. Another door with a small barred window was against the opposite wall and a small grate that smelled like the wretched sewers was on floor in the far corner. The witch closed the door beside them and said, "I will be returning for you in one hour and then we have to get you back to the dock for the return journey."

After five minutes, Draco stood up from his chair and went to the other door, looking down into opening. What he saw frightened Draco and sent a chill down his spine he hadn't felt since the night in the Astronomy Tower. So disturbing was this image that his breath caught in his throat and froze. Harry heard his gasp and walked over to join him. Standing next to him, Harry caught himself, "How… how can they do that to… to anyone?"

They could hear screams in the distance. On either side of the hallway on the other side of the door were cells with thick metal bars and hanging from the ceiling in front of every two cells were small crystal balls with small blue fires burning inside of them. Every few seconds a stream of dark smoke would rise out of one of the cells and float into the leatcher. Harry leaned closer and a sensation of great cold and darkness overtook him. It seemed as if part of him was torn away and he staggered, falling back onto the ground. Draco lifted him up as a thin line of dark smoke floated from his chest and through the bars and then into the leatcher.

"What did it do?" he heard Draco ask.

Shaking his head clear, Harry answered, "It wasn't like a dementor. I wasn't in any memory. My memory, my soul, my… my magic was ripped out of me."

"Sit down," Draco insisted, pulling him back to his seat.

After ten more minutes, Harry started to breath easier, but he still felt a great deal weaker. The he realized that since he had been sitting, every prisoner had gone through it dozens more times. Then without warning the door opened and another overbearing and angry-looking Auror entered, dragging before him a squat man with short legs. Unlike the last time Harry had met him, he now had a long, unkempt beard and was noticeably thinner. His bloodshot and baggy eyes had only grown more prominent. The Auror set him on the stool and left. Harry noted that when the leatcher tried to steal magic from the guard a faint golden glow surrounded and protected him. Turning his attention back to the prisoner, Harry greeting him, "Hello, Dung."

Without looking up, Mundungus muttered, "Wo're you?"

"You know me, Dung. Look at me and think about it."

The lowered head rolled backward and his hazed eyes focused slightly, "Zat 'Arry? Tell Molly I don't smoke no more, no sir."

"We will Dung," Harry leaned forward. Last time they met he had been furious over the older man stealing the few things left of Sirius'. His outrage only grew when Dumbledore told him one of them might be a Horcrux. But sitting here in front of him now and seeing him so defeated and feeling only a small bit of the pain that was a constant for Fletcher, Harry felt an enormous amount of pity for him.

"We need… Dung! We need to talk to you about Sirius' house," Harry explained. At this Mundungus began weeping into his hands and his entire body shook.

Looking up with his dirty face now streaked with tears, Mundungus said, "I'm sorry, 'Arry. I never… wanted to… it was just a bit to get by and I only… I only took things of his family that Sirius hated. Nothin' he'd want you to have. Just things from the Blacks. Stuff Kreacher had hidden away. I… I… n—n—never would… taken…"

As he devolved in sobs, Harry reached across the table and touched his shoulder gently. Mundungus looked up, sniffled and wiped at his tears. In a stronger voice, he said, "He was the only one who liked me, Sirius was. The rest o' them didn't think me no better than the dirt I am. But Sirius… 'e'd forgive a man anything. He… he was me only friend."

Harry smiled at him and sat back down. Mundungus snorted and continued, "When I… I took those things I wasn't thinkin' bout you or Sirius. Just taken something to get a bit o' coin and maybe a thing or two for myself… to remember 'im by."

Realizing the truth in his answer, Harry admitted, "I know, Dung. I know you loved him. This is my brother, Draco. Sirius was his godfather, too. We both know you cared for him. He liked you, too."

Mundungus looked up at Draco for the first time, who offered a weak smile as well. Clearing his throat, the auburn-haired Potter spoke for the first time, saying, "There is one thing missing from the house we need to find. It's important for the Order. A large golden locket about this big, do you know the one?"

After several silent moments that stretched on for an eternity, Harry shifted as Mundungus and Draco sat motionless. His brother's had was outstretched indicating the size of the locket and Harry realized that Dumbledore must have trusted Draco enough to take him into the same pensieve memories to actually see the Horcrux before bringing him to the Dursleys.

Finally, the older man nodded and cleared his throat, "Aye, it was hidden in Kreacher's bed under some rags."

"Good man, Dung," Harry said. "Did you sell it or hide it?"

"It's… at Borgin and Burkes, but they didn't see it. Don't know what it is. I sold a whole load of things bulk to some stock boy. Said Borgin was busy and took it with 'im down into the basement."

If they didn't notice it, Harry thought, it might still be there.

Dumbledore had told them that Lupin led a group of Order members there the night after the attack on Hogwarts. It had been abandoned by then and was boarded up ever since. Smiling, Harry turned his attention back to Mundungus and the older man started to return the grin.

"Is there anything we can do to help you, Dung?"

Tears threatened his eyes again as he replied, "Not now 'Arry. After what I done to you and Sirius, the Order done turned their backs on me."

"Well we haven't," Harry declared. "We'll talk to Dumbledore and Scrimgeor and we'll find a way to get you out of here. I promise. No matter what, we'll find away. We care. Sirius did and so will we."

Draco stood up like a bolt and Harry stared at him, unsure of the reason for this reaction. Following the path of his eyes Harry saw the bars on the door behind Fletcher. They were rattling.

"Stay down Dung," Harry said and walked towards the door cautiously.

Looking through the portal, he saw all the cell bars were shaking with increased violence, as were the leatchers. Suddenly a rapid succession of crashes worked their way closer. Looking at the ceiling, Harry saw the last of the leatchers shatter and piles of wands appeared in the corridors. Harry's mouth dropped open when the bars of every cell disappeared. A second later dozens of summoning spells were shouted and wands went flying into the cells as the wizards and witches in them stepped forward.

Draco threw Harry out of sight and to the floor before anyone saw them. Crawling quickly across the floor, he tried to stay low and out of sight. Upon reaching the door they had entered through, Draco began muttering any number of opening charms on the other door but it would not budge. There was obviously no bit of magic he could do to pry the door open without his wand.

Horrifying screams began bellowing from the corridors and Harry reached up as his scar burned hotly. Voldemort had done this. He knew it. Mundungus had by now fallen to the ground beside Harry. When Draco heard his brother muttering something, he crawled towards him and heard, "He did it. He actually did it."

"Who?" Mundungus asked. "Iz it He-Who---Who-Must-Not-Be-Named?"

Harry nodded and whispered under another great scream from down the hall, "No more prisoners in Azkaban."

Harry knew they had to move quickly. They were defenseless with who knows how many murderers running free. Pushing Draco out of the way, he grabbed the bars of the sewer grate and began pulling. The smell coming up into his face turned his stomach over again and again. Soon Draco was beside him pulling as well.

"On three," Harry instructed.

Draco nodded and on count they pulled until their arms were ready to shatter, but the grate gave and came loose with a great screeching. Grabbing Mundungus, Harry threw the two of them into the tunnel as he heard a shouted unlocking charm. He hit the ground first and Mundungus crashed on top of him, burying him in the sewer water and forcing a mouthful down into his stomach. Harry rolled out of the way as Draco fell in the same spot, but managed to land feet first.

The first thing they had to do was run, to get as far away from that opening as possible. The water was still nearly waist high and Harry despite the fear and adrenaline and need to escape, he couldn't be delayed from throwing up the heavy lump in his stomach anymore. As he retched the foul gunk back up, a strong hand grabbed his back and pulled him away from the light of the grate and into the darkness. After a minute of trudging forward, Draco's hand released Harry and leaned him back against the wall. Mundungus was slumped next to him and barely appeared conscious.

He looked across the tunnel at Draco who was trying to muffle his own coughing at their new surroundings. The smell was the most foul thing Draco had ever experienced; unable to imagine how he had given the title before to anything less repugnant.

They couldn't have been there for more than five minutes when Draco caught his breath and spoke up, "I pulled the grate behind me. It must have gone back in place or they'd have found us out."

"How… how many Death Eaters are imprisoned here again?" Mundungus asked.

"From the Battle at Hogwarts," Draco listed, "there's Fenrir Greyback, the werewolf, Alecto and Amycus Carrow, Travers, the older Crabbe and Goyle, and the large one, Yaxley and a couple of newer ones, I think they were called Mortimer and Gladflat. And there are all the ones who aren't Death Eaters here, the simple criminals, and they're all, every one of them, in Voldemort's debt now."

"A year earlier at the Department of Mysteries," Harry continued, "we caught Antonin Dolohov, Jugson, Avery Brooks, Sr., John Mulciber, Augustus Rookwook, Cringsley Nott, the two male Lestranges, the axe-man MacNair and Lucius Malfoy."

At the last name, Harry looked over at Draco, who seemed to pale even further. A confrontation with his former-father and kidnapper was something the young man was not nearly prepared for. How do you face the man you worshipped for years and now curse for hurting the parents you never knew? Standing forward off the wall, Harry coughed and tried to take a calming breath only to have his lungs burn in protest of the smells.

Mundungus leaned on his shoulder and whispered, "So… so they're all up dere. Wit wands and powers killing guards and… 'ave we a plan 'Arry?"

Harry closed his eyes tightly and said, "If we find our way to that grate over the boatyard on the eastern end we could… maybe we could summon our wands and then try to apparate away."

"I thought of that first thing while I was pushing you in the corridor. I tried," Draco argued. "The apparation wards are still up, thought that would hurt the escapees... they must be… of course. Lucius and some of the others can create portkeys."

"If you had your wand could you?" Harry asked.

Draco slowly shook his head and Harry continued, "Then we jump. Try and get far enough away from the island to apparate away."

"Before we hit the rocky shore and die?" Draco drawled.

Harry actually forced a bit of a smile and retorted, "Unless you have a better idea."

Draco simply extended his arm down the corridor for Harry to lead the way. He supposed this was the type of insane and impossible situation "Saint Potter" walked through with ease on a daily basis. He just hoped that he would come out the other end as alive and in one piece as Ron or Hermione managed to do. Holding his hand over his mouth, Harry led the way down the tunnel when he came to a turn he guessed randomly and went off to the left.

Every so often, they would walk under another grate and hear screams or maniacal, bone-chilling laughter. After five hours of searching and backtracking, the sounds above them grew quieter. Apparently most of the criminals and Death Eaters had finished their rout and moved on to new horizons.

Harry looked up and said, "If we can't get our bearings we could just be going in circles until we starve to death."

After another hour of walking, they heard almost no noise at all from above them. A low-sitting gate was just a short ways ahead of them. If Harry were to stand on Draco's shoulder he could reach it, perhaps get out and find an idea of which way to go. If most of the Death Eaters and other criminals really had left by now it should be safe enough.

Harry explained his plan to the others and though Draco didn't appreciate holding up a dripping and disgusting Potter over his head, he consented. After the boy climbed onto Draco's back, Mundungus helped Harry balance and stand up straight. With three strong pushes, he forced the grate out of place and pulled himself up thanks to a strong and firm shove from below. Once up, Harry could breathe a bit deeper and easier without gagging. A soft sound was becoming more prominent. It almost seemed, as Harry crawled along the hall, to be… crying.

Edging his way quietly towards a corner in the hallway, Harry heard, "No more… please, sah, Aye can't… no… no…"

Glancing quickly around the corner, Harry saw a single tall wizard standing over a quivering form. Soon Harry recognized the smaller creature as Stan Shunpike, apparently being tortured by a Death Eater. The deep cruel voice shouted, "This is what servants of the Dark Lord are really like you pitiful excuse for a wizard! Crucio."

As Stan's frail form quivered on the ground and screamed, Harry's bones chilled. Taking a deep breath, Harry focused his resolve and yelled, "Accio wand!"

In a heartbeat the torturer was disarmed and his wand flew into Harry's waiting hand. As the far larger man ran at him, Harry quickly cast again, "Petrificus Totalus!"

The Death Eater continued to fly forward but his raging expression grew stiff and he fell face first to the ground. Harry grabbed Stan by the arm and lifted him back around the corner. "Hang on Stan," Harry said. "I've got you."

"Who's dat? Neville?"

"Sure," Harry said with a smile. Taking Stan's arm he lowered and dropped him into the sewer. A pair of annoyed cries came back up at him.

"Wha' the bloody 'ell is that smell?" Stan whined.

"Who the bloody hell is this burk?" Draco demanded.

Looking into the sewer, Harry announced, "This is Stan. He'll be joining us."

"Fabulous," Draco replied. "Any other visitors joining us? How long until tea time?"

"Well, well," came a voice from the end of the hallway. "Just when a day can't get any better. Harry Potter."

Looking up, Harry saw in the distance a half-dozen Death Eaters led by Dolohov and Greyback. Sneering they raised their wands toward Harry, who without a thought dove backwards down into the sewers as several red and orange spells went zipping past where he had stood an instant earlier. Harry landed in Draco and Mundungus' arms and raising his wand back up towards the ceiling above, shouted, "Reducto!"

The hallway ceiling collapsed down on the sewer opening and large chunks of rocks came falling into the sewers. All four of the escapees dove out of the way and into the sewer muck. Harry was the first one up and saw that he had managed to block the opening to the sewer, but this would give them seconds at most. Holding the recovered wand in his hand, Harry quickly cast the Four-Point Spell and after an instant of wavering, the wand bolted off to the left.

Harry helped Draco support Stan as they trudged quickly off forward, towards the east end of the island. Just as they rounded a corner, a great explosion sounded behind them. Harry pulled them faster making quick turns left, left, right, left, right, right and right again. Harry cast the spell again and found he was heading east once more. Draco leaned across Stan as they took a minute to catch their breath and whispered, "The smell down here will keep Fenrir off our trail for a bit, but we have to hurry."

"Right, we're headed east now, let's just see how far we can take this path," Harry replied. They walked forward down the long thin path, ignoring any turns. The walls grew closer and the level of the thick water raised to Harry's mid-chest. Just before the water grew above Stan's neck, it quickly lowered and the walls grew even wider than before. Harry came to another intersection of tunnels and went to continue forward when Draco pulled them to a stop. He had caught the first glimpse of hope in several hours.

"Look at the water," he said. Sure enough now that the water was lower they noticed that it was flowing down the tunnel to the right. Nearly running now Harry led them down the corridor and three turns later; he literally saw the light at the end of the tunnel. A faint glimmer of starlight was reaching in through the grate at the end. Harry and Draco ran forward as Mundungus followed slowly supporting Stan. When they reached the end both extended their arms and summoned their wands and with a crash the metal lockbox flew up into Draco's outstretched hand. Harry tapped the lock with his stolen wand and said, "Alohomora."

He quickly removed the two wands he wanted and Draco dropped the case and stepped back. Handing Mundungus the old wand, Harry raised his at the grate and shouted, "Evanescoe!"

Sure enough the grate faded into nothingness. Walking close to the edge, Harry peered over at waves crashing on the rocky shore. Despite how far they had come, death was just as likely as it had been when they first entered the prison sewers hours and hours ago. If they failed to pass beyond the apparation wards, they would not survive the leap. It was no longer within their control to survive. Fate would determine the last challenge of the night.

Harry froze as he heard voices from farther down the tunnel. The Death Eaters were almost upon them, so Fate quickly became the preferred choice.

"Are you strong enough to go it alone, Dung?" Harry asked as he grabbed Stan by the hand.

"Aye don't think… Them leatchers did a number on me."

"Draco, take him Side-Along. Aim for just outside the Hog's Head in Hogsmeade. And… and don't die."

Forgetting their dire situation for an instant, Draco gathered the necessary cheek to flash Harry a shit-eating grin. All four crowded near the ledge and breathed deeply. Harry wrapped his arm around Stan and stepped forward once more.

A great scream came from behind Harry, but without turning he leapt and pulled Stan along with him. Looking only downward Harry concentrated on his destination and tried to pull them there without success. He tried to forget the violent and horrible death he was racing towards. He wanted to push everything out of his mind except the dirty old bar. The bar… the bar… the bar…

Time seemed to slow substantially as the ground grew closer. But still it was rushing up at them, now only 15 meters away… 10… 5… 2…

All sensation of falling was gone and Harry was standing perfectly still on his feet on a familiar street. Exhausted he fell against the same lamppost Dumbledore had lent against just two months previously. Stan sat on the cobblestone street breathing heavily. Harry's eyes bolted open and he realized they were the only two people on the street. Standing quickly in panic, Harry turned only to have Draco pop into existence and Mundungus trip forward into his arms. Breathing a long sigh of relief, Harry set the older man down next to Stan.

Finally safe, Harry looked up and saw a new day had already dawned. The sun was up in the east and it would soon start its climb over the lake and Hogwarts. Harry came out of his thoughts when he heard Draco casting a moderate-level healing charm on himself. He looked and saw a long gash on his brother's leg mend itself, not even leaving a scar behind.

"Sorry for being late and all," Draco explained. "Apparently Fenrir only wanted to wound me. We all know how he prefers… fresh kills."

Trying to improve the mood, Harry retorted, "I assumed you just needed to make a big special entrance."

Draco smiled and without raising his eyes spoke in a low voice, "We have to get the Hor—the locket out of there before any Death Eaters drop in. This only keeps working as long as Voldemort doesn't know we're onto his secret."

Realizing the truth of it, Harry asked, "Dung, can you get Stan to Hogwarts and let Dumbledore know what happened?"

"Yeah, 'Arry. Reckon I owe you one or two or fitty for last night."

"Remember straight to Dumbledore, he'll believe you as long as you stick to the truth," Harry explained. "Tell him Draco and I plan to arrive on the train still and don't mention the locket to anyone except him, understood?"

Mundungus wiped the grime off of his face and nodded. Helping Stan to his feet, they started north towards High Street and the road to Hogwarts. Harry stood and helped Draco to his feet.

"So do you have a plan, Draco?"

"What do I look like, Granger?" Draco asked.

Harry smiled at the joke, but a moment later his brother continued, "We apparate to Knockturn Alley as close to the back end of it as we can manage. I know a back door into Borgin and Burkes that Lucius told me about. Hopefully the streets will be mostly deserted at this hour. Unless of course some of the escaped Death Eaters rallied there."

"Alright, we get in and find it before anyone discovers us and we apparate directly to either Grimmauld Place or King's Cross," Harry finished. Glancing at his watch, he added, "We have just over three hours until the train leaves."

And with a pair of completely identical pops, the street outside the Hog's Head was once again deserted by the time the grey-haired bartender carried out the trash and prepared to open for the day. Harry landed near the top of a flight of stairs in Knockturn Alley just east of Borgin and Burkes. As he tumbled loudly down the stairs, Harry realized he should have been more specific. The farthest into the alley he had ever been was in second year when he flooed in by mistake. The deepest image he had in his mind was the top of the stairs he had just descended.

He was rubbing what would soon be a nasty bump on his head, when he saw Draco standing over him. Shaking his head disapprovingly, Draco offered him a hand and pulled his brother up. Apparently, Draco had been farther into the alley than he had and Harry realized he should have just had Draco pull him Side-along. He followed his brother's quick pace north. Nervously, their eyes shot back and forth amongst the shops on either side of the narrow street. They only had a few minutes until the stores opened for the day and at any moment they could be discovered. Just before Harry was about to whisper and ask how much farther, Draco cut off into a side alley running back northeast behind the shops and a high brick wall.

The passageway was just large enough for a single person to squeeze through at a time and allowed almost no light in. But neither was willing to tempt fate by lighting a wand so close to the main boulevard. After passing two small shops, the path cut farther back around the much larger store. Soon Draco paused in front of a completely ordinary piece of wall. Draco furrowed his brows in concentration trying to remember the exact sequence. It had been nearly four years.

He took a deep breath before tapping his wand on five stones. The bricks separated and opened on a thick oak door with a knocker made out of a brass frowning devil. Draco leaned towards it and whispered, "Flibbertyjacket."

With this the devil's frown curled into a malevolent smile and the door flung inward abruptly. Harry followed Draco down the damp steps and came out into a cluttered storeroom. Above them, the secret passageway slammed shut. The noise was as daunting as the task itself.

This would be no quick search. From floor to ceiling, seeming endless piles of junk were stacked in moldy old boxes. With no organizational method apparent, Harry pointed towards the far end and said, "I'll start there."

As he walked off, Draco levitated down the highest box in the pile next to him and said, "We'll be fine, assuming the Death Eaters and Borgin, himself, all avoid the building for five months."

"Yeah, but I don't want see Hermione's face if we miss the train," Harry added as he pushed aside a small vase that tried to bite his fingers off.

Draco chuckled and tossed a puss-spewing, red-beaked grasshopper against the far wall and added, "True, if she has to deal with the prefects and students on her own, I'll never hear the end of it."

The search continued. They both tried to keep the atmosphere light for as long as they could, but as the minutes stretched into hours, hope turned to fear and then to depression. It seemed as if they might not succeed when Harry found a small floating paperweight he recognized from one of the cabinets he cleaned out a few years ago.

"This belonged to Sirius' great-uncle Lycorus," Harry announced. Draco set aside the cursed monkey paw he had just found and joined Harry. Together they tore through the remainder of Harry's box. With nothing else present, they split up the next two boxes.

"Got it," Draco said. He held up a hefty golden locket. With a small click the locket opened to reveal a picture of a bright smiling face. The dark-haired woman looked up from the book she was writing in and smiled warmly up at them. On the opposite side of the interior of the locket were the engraved initials of "S.S."

Both froze in place when they clearly heard a voice upstairs, "No one will look for us here, its long since abandoned."

"They can't find us or he might find out," Harry whispered. Draco started grabbing several random items including the monkey paw. Draco said, "Make it look like a robbery." Harry grabbed five random objects. He unintentionally yelped when a miniature clay figurine tried to stab him with a toothpick. An instant later, Draco's hand was on his and he was squeezed through a rubber tube and pulled out of the grimy basement. Draco had apparated them to a safe place, a familiar place. They stood together on a neatly trimmed small front lawn. Draco released him and Harry turned around to get his bearings. There were no Death Eaters or dark wizards or wizarding villages around him.

There was only a quiet little street of Surrey.

"Where… where… Privet Drive?" Harry asked.

"It was the only thing that popped in my head," Draco said. Then with a smirk, added, "I don't see any Death Eaters around, do you?"

"No, but we should go before we find something far worse… the Dursleys," Harry joked. "Let's get to—"

"Harry? Draco?" called a voice. Looking up, they saw Mr. and Mrs. Witchett standing across the street. They apparently had just gotten out of their car and the two groups met in the middle of the road. Mrs. Witchett continued, "What are you doing here? Sarah was looking for you at the train station."

Harry turned to Draco and exclaimed, "What time is it!"

"Quarter-past eleven," Mr. Witchett answered after glancing at his wristwatch.

Harry cleared his throat and explained, "We missed the train, but we can go straight to Hogsmeade and meet the train there."

"Or…" Draco announced.

"What?"

"We could just… jump on the train," Draco announced with a smile.

"Why? There's no reason to," Harry said.

Mrs. Witchett leaned forward and asked, "Is that safe?"

"No less so than anything else we've done today," Harry found himself saying. "But there is still the matter of why to try at all?"

"Besides what we mentioned earlier about Granger killing me," Draco paused. "Well it'll be fun like…"

"Like everything else we've done today?"

"Oddly enough, yes."

"Well," Mr. Witchett began, "You will be careful, won't you lads?"

Harry and Draco looked from them to each other and said together, "Of course."

And then they vanished.

A/N: A bit shorter, quicker paced chapter for you here. Once again, I throw in the disclaimer that I don't own Harry Potter or any of the characters. Reviews have been coming in much fast this last week, but I always want more. I love me my reviews! So please do so... pleeease. I think it would be great if I one day get double digit reviews for a chapter. But not to just use this AN for review soliciting and disclaimers, I also wanted to tease the next chapter, where we get back with the whole gang and arrive at Hogwarts. Plus, hey, maybe a certain Chosen One should destroy that there Horcrux. I hope to have the next chapter up during the week or next Sunday at the latest. Thanks again.