Third of three - if you're just seeing this, this has two previous chapters that were updated today. Go read them too!
September 25, 1977, 9:30 PM
HOGWARTS | ENGLAND
"Meghan, please calm down," Kingsley muttered, shifting in his seat, trying to bring his bound hands to the front of his body. Peter shot a glare to the sixth years, who finally quieted down. He turned his hands, trying to loosen the ropes, but nothing worked. He looked across the hallway to try and catch Narcissa's eye, but the Slytherin was focused on her own bounds, face down. Her black hair had fallen loose and now hid her face from view, but he knew the black eye she had gained while trying to help Felix and Peter escape had to hurt.
The other Slytherin was sharing a cell further down with Marlene. Both were oddly quiet after they'd been locked up, and Peter was worried that they were injured. The Death Eaters had taken his bag during the struggle, and all his potions were in there. And they were all wandless, to boot. They were…
Screwed, his inner Sirius replied unhelpfully. Royally screwed.
He still had trouble processing how they got caught. They'd all been so very careful, barely making a sound as they creeped around the dungeons. They had barely reached the first holding cell - the one that held Meghan Greengrass - when Death Eaters had converged on them. The scuffle that followed had been short, but brutal, at least on their side. You-Know-Who's followers hadn't been gentle when they'd grabbed the kids, pushing them into various cells and snatching their belongings.
They were ready for us. Somehow, they knew we were coming.
They hadn't even found Anchor or McGonagall, he thought moresly. He looked at his arms again, tied together with rope. How Muggle of them.
"They don't want to risk you escaping," a girl's voice said. Peter looked up to see Jemma Fawley looking at him from Narcissa's cell. Guess she was alive after all. "The ropes," she added when he didn't say anything. "There was a muggleborn girl who escaped after picking the lock. They don't know how else to protect from muggle methods." Peter nodded his understanding, before leaning back and continued pulling slightly.
"Kingsley, come and try to undo mine," he called, beckoning the younger boy closer. He came, but when he tried to touch the rope, he jerked back, hissing.
Laughter sounded and both boys turned down the hallway to see another boy watching them, lounging against the bars of his cell.
"Can't do that!" he crowed. "Jinxes to protect against others untying them. The Death Eaters aren't entirely dumb."
"Not like some people," Kingsley muttered, awkwardly cradling his hand gingerly. Peter flinched in sympathy at the burns that covered his dark skin.
"Narcissa?" Peter called. "Narcissa!" The Black jerked her head up, blinking to focus on Peter. "Narcissa?" he asked uncertainly, watching her blink.
"What's wrong with her?" Meghan asked, coming closer to the bars.
"I think she's concussed," Peter said. "Jemma, can you go over to her?"
"She's what?" Kingsley asked.
"Concussed," Peter repeated. "They hit her head. Jemma, call her name and try and get her to focus on you."
She shuffled over. "Narcissa?" she asked softly. The other girl screwed her eyes up before turning to see the Ravenclaw.
"Yes?"
"Are her eyes dilated?"
Jemma hesitated before shaking her head. "It's too hard to see in this light."
"Ask her some questions. If she's badly concussed, she'll have difficulty answering them."
"What year - wait." Jemma turned to Peter. "What year is it?"
"September 1977," he supplied.
"Oh Merlin," Jemma widened her eyes. "It's been a while, hasn't it?"
"They didn't let you go home for the summer?" As soon as he said it, Peter flinched and mentally berated himself.
"To who?" she asked ironically, refocusing on Narcissa.
"Whom."
"What?" She spared Peter a confused glance.
He flushed, but continued, "Remus used to correct us. It's whom, not who." He noticed Kingsley nodding slightly next to him.
"Very well. To whom?"
"Your parents?" This time Kingsley asked before Peter could stop him.
"My da's a Death Eater," she replied, her Irish lilt making it less monotone than she probably wanted. "I'd rather not go home to him. Narcissa? What's your last name?"
"Black," she muttered, leaning her head back. "Almost a Malfoy though."
"What d'ya mean?" Jemma asked.
"Was suppos'd to be m'rried off to Luc's."
"Lucius Malfoy?" Peter asked, surprised. "Sirius never told me that."
"T'ld R'mus not to tell him. D'dn't wanna m'rry him."
"Narcissa," Peter started before stopping, staring at the girl. Remus knew? Why would he know and not Sirius? "She's definitely concussed," he finally said, deciding to file away that knowledge for later. "She's slurring her words." And talking more than she normally would, he added in his head.
"Marlene? Felix?" Kingsley shouted down, and Peter strained to hear a reply from either.
For a long minute, there was nothing, before a voice shouted back, "We're both here, with Justin Clearwater and Charles Macmillan!" Peter deflated in relief as Felix's voice sounded.
"You both are okay then?"
"Well enough." This time it was Marlene who answered.
"What's that mean?" Peter asked sharply. At first there wasn't a reply so he added, "McKinnon!"
"I'm a bit banged up," the Gryffindor finally offered.
"She has a dislocated arm," Felix hollored. Peter could hear an "ow" right after that and imagined Marlene hitting the boy.
"How bad, Marlene?"
"Nothing I can't handle or haven't handled before."
"Felix?"
"It's not terrible, Peter. As soon as we get the ropes off, I can set it."
"You imply that you're getting out of here," Meghan interjected. Peter started, having forgotten about the quiet Slytherin.
"We are," Peter said firmly. No one answered him for a minute and he frowned at Kingsley. The younger boy had turned away, not saying anything. He had settled back on the other side of the small cell and was simply sitting there, not fiddling with his ropes anymore. That's when Peter remembered that he had already been down here before. "Correction therapy". One of the people the Death Eaters had thought they had converted. How long had it been? A couple weeks? He'd managed to convince them that he'd switched, enough so that they brought him back upstairs. He was one of the few, Peter knew. James, Marlene, Amos - they had all just had terrible detentions. Countless others - everyone in his book - had been stuck here for months, like Meghan, or even a year, like Jemma. Some weren't still alive. Peter definitely knew that.
"We will get out," he repeated, looking straight at Kingsley, but the other boy didn't lift his head.
"No one ever told me how optimistic you are," a female voice drawled. Both Peter and Kingsley jumped up.
Or rather, they tried jumping up, but jumping up with tied hands is not the best idea. Note to self , Peter thought wryly, as he lay on his face on the floor. He groaned, pushing himself up as smothered laughter erupted around him. Laughter in a Death Eater prison. I must be going siriusly insane. Then: I did not just think that.
"Cute, you two." Peter managed to get himself upright to see Anchor leading a band of teenagers behind her. She was chuckling as Kingsley finally managed to get upright too. "Well boys and girls, let's go!" Peter watched, amazed as she waved her hand at the last four cells, and the seven teens previously locked saw the bars magically open up.
"How?" Peter managed. "Wandless magic? At what, sixteen?" The brunette glared at him, previous amusement gone.
"I'm seventeen, squirt."
"You're shorter than I am!"
"Guys?" Jemma asked, leading Narcissa out with a hand on her arm. "Who is this?"
"Introductions can wait," Anchor replied, turning to the mass of ten teenagers. "How am I to get all of you out?" she mused.
"Wait," Peter protested. "This can't be everyone!" Indeed, other than the five that had came in that evening, only Jemma Fawley, the sneering boy - Alfred Stevens, he realized - Meghan Greengrass, Justin Clearwater, and Charles Macmillan were there. "There should be others!"
"There aren't any more cells," Anchor shrugged.
"Peter, we were in the second to last cell," Marlene replied, using her good hand to point to Felix. "Anchor was in the last one." Peter noticed how close to the girl Marlene stood and felt shock settle in.
"Are you -"
"I told you all," Marlene said smugly.
Anchor shook her head, though Peter was sure amusement was threatening to break through her face. "I'm not saying my name here. We need to get out." She studied the group again. "Whip was teaching me something before I left. Perchance…" She waved her hand and Peter waited for something to happen. Everyone shifted, confused, and Anchor sighed. "Guess I need more practice. I'm sure he'd have done it. The less fun way then." Again, she waved her hand, and this time Peter found himself unable to see anyone.
"That worked!" Anchor's voice sounded very pleased. "Let's hope I can figure out a way to undo it."
"Figure out?" Meghan repeated. "You mean you don't know how?" Peter felt his stomach flip.
"I'm sure Whip knows how. He'll fix you all when we get to camp."
"Camp?" Peter asked.
Though he couldn't see her, he could imagine a smirk on her face as she replied, "We're going to a rebel camp."