Harry Potter: Lost in the 'Verse.
Chapter 11
Markus Scarrs Indelible Tattoos had its fair share of, well – odd customers, being situated in Knockturn Alley they were a common occurrence. However, at this moment in time the inhabitants of the infamous Alley were scurrying out of the way of a rather large man, he was tall – at least two heads taller than a grown man. His hair was a dark ginger, and his beard a darker shade of brown, his eyes where hidden behind a golden framed pair of eyelet spectacles, however even masked – his amber eyes glinted wisely.
Striding with the confidence of a younger man he stepped into the parlour. After stepping up a small staircase, he moved to the left and stood on a slightly raised platform where a few polished wooden chairs where sitting.
On the other side of the staircase, to the right of the door, was a rough wooden floor – along the wall where several large canvases, depicting a variety of different designs from strange runes to a life-size dragon which stretched the length of the building.
The building was an unconventional space, to be sure. It appeared to be built on an incline, and as such came up in gradually ascending levels.
The stairs reached to the very end of the spacious room, then turned right and out of sight. The man observed the writhing dragon drawing, enchanted to move and act like it's real counterpart.
On the opposite wall, hung needles of varying sizes, they all glowed in many a different colour. The upper level, had two large tattoo chairs on them, they had mechanisms in place to help ease of access for the artists and the comfort of the customer.
The man stared at the artwork, he himself was extensively tattooed. Most couldn't be seen but the ones that were, where very well done.
"No use looking at that Mr Lymen, that their tatt is for our... Shall we say, vertically talented customers" spoke a voice. The man, Mr Lymen turned to face the direction of the voice.
He smiled when he clapped eyes with a heavily tattooed man with muscles big enough to take on a Ukrainian Ironbelly - twice, his tattoos where intricate and depicted Rökkr runes and giants. His name was Æsgir, he was of Scandinavian descent and it was rumoured that his parents where followers of the Jöttun, also called the Rökkr or Ice Giants.
"How many times lad, I'm Silas – Mr Lymen is my father, and the bugger's been dead for years! And just what are you saying? Reckon I'm not big enough for your dragon there?" he finished with a wink
"At least once more Mr Lymen, and – well, with all of your other ink I somehow don't think it'd fit. And also, it's a tattoo designed for a giant – the magic that's poured into that thing would kill most wizards!" Æsgir answered with a wink of his own.
"Magical tattoos, why don't the Ministry employ you lot? You could do em some good. "Said Silas "oh they've tried, 'cept these Scarrs have been here since Knockturn was created. Ain't no way they'd betray their roots like that" he answered
"Fair enough, I'm having my shoulders touched up. Is the Old Man here?" Asked Silas, Æsgir nodded and walked through a door.
A few moments later he walked through the door "He's resting just now, I'll start off and he'll take over when he's ready." He said, Silas nodded and removed his long leather jacket. Standing now in long black cargos, goblin forged boots, a sleeveless denim work shirt and a leather waistcoat.
He removed his shirt and waistcoat and sat on the chair, Æsgir went silently to work and the steady buzz of a tattoo pen filled the room.
"Are we seeing your boys today? "came Æsgir's voice after a while, Silas nodded his acquiescence "Good, the 'Ol Man likes to see 'em, 'ere's a question for ya, has he always been called the Old Man o' Knockturn? Or does he actually have a name? "He asked, Silas laughed "Well, I came here seventy years ago, and the fucker was old then too so I guess so yeah" they both laughed. However, it was cut short when a loud stomping could be heard.
"Ya know I must be dreamin', cause there ain't no way a gutter scumbag like Silas Lymen would walk into my shop and start insultin' me" came a growl from the doorway. Æsgir visibly paled whilst Silas grinned.
"Just a joke Ol' Man" Silas laughed
"Better be Lymen, else you'll be out in the dirt" Growled the Old Man.
Silas smiled cheekily and said "Me? I'm your best customer! You can't do that" he put on a mock offended expression.
The Old Man stomped over, the two men stared at each other for a tense few moments. Then suddenly the Old Man grinned, Silas laughed and the Old Man let out a chortle of his own, except his sounded like it came from a mouthful of razor blades.
"Good to see you again, Mr Lymen" The Old Man said "You too Mr Scarrs" said Silas.
"Are we seeing the rest of your mighty company today?" Spoke Mr Scarrs from behind him as he took the pen off of Æsgir "Indeed we are, they should be here momentarily" Replied Silas, the Old Man leaned forward "She's waiting to see you in the old cavern" He said so only Silas could hear. Silas nodded and then looked up as the door opened.
In stepped a very tall fellow with long blonde hair and a very pronounced nose, beetle black eyes glinted brightly. "Ahh, Keyrir – you're a tad early but come take a seat" Said Æsgir, the tall fellow – Keyrir, nodded and sat down on a seat that Æsgir had conjured.
"Afternoon Mr Scarrs, Mr Lymen" Spoke Keyrir. Both men nodded respectively at the slightly strange fellow.
Keyrir was an oddity even in Knockturn Alley. His mother was a Goblin, his father a Half-giant, as such he was incredibly tall, very physically strong – all the traits of a Half-giant, however he was not possessed of the brutish nature of many giant and Half-giant. Instead he had inherited the intelligence and facial features of his Goblin mother.
All of this made quite the potent brew for his magical prowess, he could hold his own against at least five Auror's at once and had a spell resistance to rival Basilisk hide.
Not that you'd know it mind, Keyrir was famously peaceful. Preferring to learn of his heritage and travel across the Wizarding World. He was employed by the Goblins to serve as there Chief Scholar, and by the British Ministry of Magic to serve as there emissary to the Goblin Nation. Today, he was getting some of his Goblin magical tattoos updated.
"Ahh, here are your boys now sah" Spoke Mr Scarrs, sure enough a moment later Anthony and Drew Lymen stepped up the steps and stood in front of there father.
"Good lad's, you're right on time. The pen turned of and Mr Scarrs stepped round and clasped both boy's hands firmly. "Always good to see you boys" he said gruffly "You too Granddá" laughed Drew. However, the Old Man didn't share his humour.
Mr Scarrs stepped to his right, then planted a solid punch to Drew's gut. He bent over double and Anthony laughed. "I may be old you little tyke, but I can still knock you down to size" Laughed Mr Scarrs.
"Sorry Mr Scarrs, won't happen again" Said Drew in a laboured voice, Mr Scarrs grinned and nodded "What did I tell you Drew? Don't piss off the Old Man, leave him to his ink and cigars" Laughed Silas.
"You'd best head below, she doesn't like to be kept waiting" Mr Scarrs said. Silas nodded and walked through the door and down a flight of stairs, at the bottom he turned sharply and walked towards a solid wall right at the end. Without slowing he walked directly through the wall as if it were silk.
The boys followed, they stepped through and found themselves in a towering cavern. Most didn't know about the origins of Diagon and the subsequent Knockturn and Drenktern. However, a little is known by our young Master Drew Lymen, here is the knowledge as he knows it.
For thousands of years, the areas of Diagon and its respective counterparts where inhabited by the Goblins, they lived underground and mined their gold and silver. However, as the Wizarding population grew, maintaining their secrecy from the Wand-Wielders was becoming increasingly difficult.
However, the Wand-Wielders weren't the Goblins only problem. The Non-Magicals, otherwise known as Muggles – where growing ever stronger and many feared that they would soon seek to strike the Wizarding World. The Wand-Wielders shared this belief, and many of them had already taken up arms against the Muggles. Some, of course had fled – however, with the Coming of the Four – hope was kindled, the Hogwarts Founders had successfully founded the first All-Wizarding settlement in the whole of Britain. Today known as Hogsmeade.
They united the tribes and led a peaceful crusade throughout the British Isles, eventually they came to the area that would become Diagon Alley. In this Godric and Salazar saw an opportunity, the Goblins skill at mining gold was unparalleled. And the Wizarding populace wasn't exactly known for its expertise in the field of numbers.
Thus, Gringotts had been founded, and the first Goblin Peace Treaty, as word of this grew – many travelled from the world over to ply their trade in the famous district.
Around the year 382 BCE, a man hailing from the distant lands around the Aegean had arrived on British shores. He had said that he could build the Witches, Wizards and other inhabitants of the Isle better and more powerful wands than the crudely constructed one's they had been using, and since then his family had never left. This man's name, was Ollivander.
Now, what do Goblins and wand makers have to do with a cavern underneath a tattoo parlour, ye may ask?
Well see we when the Goblins relocated, they took all their gold with them. However, the cave systems used to house their gold, they were simply abandoned – most had caved in by now, but this one was untouched.
These days, the cavern was the Wizarding Black Market. Anything you wanted that you couldn't get through legal means you'd find here – the cavern was also the hideaway of the Abominations Together movement.
Silas and the boys walked through a crumbling arch way into a small anti chamber off of the main cavern. The room was lit by a dozen floating candles, in a dark corner a squelching noise could be heard. Then a thump as a body dropped to the floor, dead.
Then a woman appeared, she wore a long gown with the breast exposed. She would have been good looking, if it weren't for the blood staining her face and chest.
"Ahh Silas, it pleases me to see you again. Please go and take a seat, I'm going to change into something a little less comfortable." Said the woman with a fanged smirk.
Silas inclined his head and led the way through to a smaller room. The woman appeared a few minutes later, she wore a long black dress now.
"Silas, to what do I owe the pleasure?" she said, Silas smiled and said "My Lady Mavenna, these are my sons Andrew and Anthony" the woman – Lady Mavenna turned her head and extended her hand. Both boys planted a small whiskery kiss on there and said "Pleased to meet you Lady Mavenna" she smiled a dazzling smile "So polite, you've trained them well Silas" she said winking at him.
"It was there mother that taught them that" Silas responded with a sad look in his eye. Lady Mavenna smoothed his shoulder gently. After a few silent moments she spoke.
"Now, to business – you know I love your visits but there must be a reason?" she said in a business-like manner, this seemed to shake Silas from his forlorn musings. "Yes, a client has requested that we act as a broker for a – partnership – of sorts, here is your contract which will explain in more detail" he said, handing her a wad of parchment.
Lady Mavenna looked over the proffered parchment "Hmm, I shall have to meet with the rest of the movement, one thing does bother me however" she said looking at Silas, to which he inclined his head for her to continue.
"There is no mention of who the client is, am I to enter an alliance with a stranger Silas?" she asked "Ahh yes, the client – at this time would like to remain anonymous. However, you know, I would not bring you an anonymous contract if I wasn't one-hundred percent sure of the trustworthiness of the client."
Lady Mavenna smiled "Of course Silas, I shall meet with the rest of the movement and send word with our decision" She said, Silas smiled too and stood up "I thank you for your cooperation my Lady Mavenna, however we must be leaving" Lady Mavenna stood up and embraced the taller man "Good to see you Silas" she stood up on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek lightly "Mind if I borrow your Drew?" she said.
"Ask him, boy can make his own decisions" Silas smiled, Lady Mavenna smiled back "Master Drew, may I borrow you a moment?" She said. Drew smiled slightly and said "of course milady" She crooked her finger in a silent invitation.
They walked along a corridor cut out of the rock, Drew could feel a strange humming sensation in his ears. "You feel it to, do you not?" Came Lady Mavenna's voice, Drew nodded "What is it?" He spoke as he walked.
"These old Goblin wards are built to last, there power still flows in the ground around us – even though their impressions on the stone are now for nought." She said in a sage like voice.
They stepped into a room, and Lady Mavenna directed him to lay down on the large bed in the centre of the room. "It is my custom to give a reading to new friends, it allows me to know you a little better" Drew nodded and looked around the room.
"The form of Divination I use is not the same as the western form, I learned under the great Mongolian shamans and the Seidr of the northern climes. It is quite intense. I hope you are prepared." Drew looked up at her, but she was standing at the foot of the bed throwing powder and potion into a roaring fire. Soon the fire blazed a myriad of colour, and the humming in the room intensified.
"Are you ready?" She said, he nodded but not entirely sure as to what he was agreeing to. The second he nodded however, Lady Mavenna tossed the embers into the air and Drew was thrown forcibly backwards by a sudden gust of wind. Chaos assaulted his senses and he was finding it hard to breath, then – he felt a tapping on his chest and looked up, the chaos in the room was still happening but appeared as though it was on the other side of a window. "Welcome to the Spirit Journey Mr Lymen, now I need your consent to impart these images to you" Said Lady Mavenna's voice
"I consent" He spoke slightly shakily, the voice of Lady Mavenna laughed "Don't worry young master Lymen, the experience is a very pleasurable one." She said in a suggestive voice. Before he could ponder this further, the chaos returned – however his attention was very quickly drawn inward. This is the mirage as he saw it.
A boy, was stumbling up a heavy stone set of stairs – a huge wrought iron gate barred his way, he was clothed in rags and he shivered as a biting wind blew harshly about him. The boy had yet to turn around, so Drew mentally looked harder at him – then wished he hadn't. The boys face was a horror, bones protruded out here and there, sightless eyes blazed with an untold fury his mouth appeared to be elongated downward – a lot like a painting he had seen in a Muggle gallery. It was then that Drew became aware of the noise, what he thought was the wind actually turned out to be a high-pitched wailing, coming from the boy.
He was then pulled forcibly out of his mirage and found himself again on the bed in the room, except there was one crucial difference. Hair was dangling over his head, not his own you understand – and he felt a pair of lips on his own.
Lady Mavenna threw her head back "Don't tell me what you saw, that's for you to keep for yourself. By the way, your not a bad kisser" She finished with a wink, Drew blushed red "Don't worry, you're to young to feed on" She said sensing his worry, then she leant down and whispered in his ear "Unless you're into that sort of thing" She turned her head back up, but kept close to his face – meanwhile Drew was internally fighting with both the desire to throw her off of him and leave the cavern as quickly as possible, and the opposite – before he could make up his mind she pressed her lips to his neck, at that he lost all restraint and frantically made to kiss her.
-x-
A cruel wind ripped at the rock surrounding Caer Azkaban, and yet a depressing little boat was making its way shakily across the iron grey water. When it docked, Mr Willem walked out onto the rough uneven shore. "Well hello their ladies! Welcome to your new home" He mocked, all the prisoners where clad in grey prison robes and they did little against the cold. He drew out a massive whip and slashed sharply at them "Get moving" He said savagely, they started moving – one moved slowly, shuffling along as if uncertain about where his feet where going. A harsh slap from the whip jerked him to attention "If you think shuffling along will save you boy, ye best think again. Get moving or I'll make you wish you'd never been born!" He shouted the last part, except the boy wasn't really paying much attention to what he was saying, so Mr Willem stomped over to him and punched him harshly across the cheek. The rest of the company stopped and stared "What are you looking at? GET MOVING!" He bellowed "Get up of your arse before I make sitting a permanently painful experience for you, DON'T FUCKING IGNORE ME!" He bellowed again, grabbing the boy by the chin he forced him upward – his gloves had an enchantment of his own design upon them, they would heat up on his command, making whoever encountered them burn quite significantly. Whilst he himself came to no harm. They heated up the skin on the boy's jaw and it quickly fell away, it was then however, that Mr Willem spotted his eyes – they stared sightlessly at him even when the boy screamed in pain they bore no emotion whatsoever.
Dark purple scarring spread along the boy's torso, Mr Willem knew these symptoms – The one with no name had gotten to this one "Jeez, he really did a number on you didn't he? No matter, walk – now." He said emotionlessly, the boy struggled along, but soon he reached the stone steps. A sharp lash from Mr Willem was all it took to get him up there. "Now the fun begins" Was all he said.
-x-
"The pieces are moving, Emrys and Le Fay must make there move soon." Spoke a voice that sounded as though it came from several people. "When they do, our master will be ready." Spoke another gritty voice.
"What does he plan to do with our Tom Riddle problem?" Spoke the first voice again "I do not pretend to know our masters plans Lecherion, you should not either." Spoke the gritty voice "You should be careful, names are a powerful thing Galdring" Taunted Lecherion, then a dark wave of energy surged and hit the formless creature sending it spiralling back" Galdring then spoke "Well it's a good thing you don't have one, abomination" Was all he said.
"My children, what have I told you about your in fighting" a powerful voice spoke, at his words both creatures bolted around "Apologies, Great One – it shall not happen again" They both spoke in their minds "See that it doesn't or suffer my displeasure" The powerful voice ordered darkly. Just when the two creatures thought they were going to get away scot free, they were both struck by a sinister silver bolt that tore through their bodies – leaving them shaking at the end. "Now you know you deserved that, don't you?" Spoke the powerful voice again, both creatures nodded quickly "Good, now all is forgiven. Now, all of you on your knees and praise your Grand Master!" the voice shouted.
The formless creatures were now illuminated by a dark purple sun, that provided no warmth whatsoever as it rose it shone on their hulking bodies, arched over as they knelt at there masters feet. As the dark sun rose in the crushing black sky, more creatures could be seen – all of them knelt shouting a single chant.
"All hail, Medrawt! All hail, Medrawt!"
-x-
Ministry of Magic Medical Facility – 001
"Aurors needed urgently in bay three, I repeat Aurors needed urgently in bay three!" An amplified voice was heard throughout the complex. Quickly a team of fifteen Aurors rushed to the situation, when they entered the medical staff were attempting to hold a patient down – except he kept sending massive waves of energy crashing into them. The Aurors were trained to deal with cases like these, so they all formed a defensive arch and in unison raised their wands and shouted "Protego!" there individual shields all impacted and fused together, the boy was still sending waves and waves of energy, but it impacted the shield harmlessly. Now the healers could observe him without getting hurt, the head healer – McGonagall her name was, ran diagnostic spells over the boy. Except they didn't make any sense, the spells where telling her that the boys magical core was fluctuating – except that couldn't be possible because the boys core was nearly entirely empty!
"I don't know what to do about him, he hasn't been this bad before. I think we will have to sedate him" She said to one of the other healers "But, Healer Snape said… Harry isn't to be sedated unless necessary! "The young healer replied "Does this not look like necessary to you?! The magic that he is leaking could bring this whole building down on our heads!" McGonagall shouted, at her words the rest of the healers jumped into action. They all drew wands out of there robes and pointed them at the writhing boy "On my word Aurors, you will withdraw your shields." Healer McGonagall ordered, they all nodded their acquiescence "NOW!" She shouted.
As the shields were withdrawn, and all the healers shouted in unison "Stupefy!" a tiny voice spoke, the words could barely be heard but as the writhing boy's eyes shut, McGonagall swore she heard him say "He's here! He's here!"
-x-
Anthony Lymen stood again in Markus Scarrs Indelible Tattoos, he was awaiting his brother who had disappeared with their newest acquaintance – Lady Mavenna and was yet to return. His father was sat talking to Mr Scarrs, and Æsgir was sat working on the peculiar looking man – Keyrir, a tap on his shoulder caused Anthony to turn around "Father, how can I help?" He asked, "The Old Man wants a word in the back" He said, Anthony nodded "Keep an eye out for Drew, will you?" He said to his father, to which the older man nodded.
Walking away Anthony found himself a dark panelled room, with many a design on the wall – the only illumination came from a few floating candles here and there, a tall suit of armor stood shadowed in the left-hand corner by an ancient looking tattoo chair, on the right by the window there was a roughly scrubbed wooden table. That was where the old man was sat, the Old Man nodded for Anthony to sit down.
"There's been an attack, St Mungo's this time" He said looking Anthony in the eye "Death Eaters? Or one of the splinter groups?" Anthony asked, the Old Man looked dire "Death Eaters, but that's not what's troubling me – they sent him "The Old Man looked shaken "Him? No yo-you can't me-mean" Anthony stuttered "Don't say his name son, apparently that's how he was summoned. There's something big going down, the Death Eaters are stirring – all the fortune tellers are saying the same thing, something new is here. I've no idea what they mean, but we best ready ourselves – a storm is coming" The Old Man said gravely.
-x-
One is often ignorant of the darkness, until it is all one knows; the black oblivion that ensnares all thought, sends the spirit spiralling into dark and forgotten depths of insanity and sorrow. Well, at least that is how the poets describe it – however let us see how our Hero would enunciate such a description.
All he could see was utter blackness, it seemed to seep into his mind and distort his senses. He could hear screams, and speech in an unintelligible garble – suddenly however he became aware of a biting chill that seemed to tear at his skin what is that? He thought, but then he felt pain, someone was hitting him. Ordering him to move with a commanding voice, he could now hear – though unsure as to where he was and how he got there, soon his sense of smell returned, and he could smell petrichor and sea salt – it would have been nice if not disturbed by the roaring of the cruel wind, and the bellowing of an unknown person. He tried to move, but his sight had not yet returned, and his feet slipped on the uneven ground.
He suddenly felt the lash of a whip, then the ground underneath him shook as the unknown person from earlier stomped over "If you think shuffling along will save you boy, ye best think again. Get moving or I'll make you wish you'd never been born!" He said, but Harry didn't really hear him – he was wondering why the Hel his sight had not yet returned, however a harsh punch from the man brought him out of his thoughts. He was aware that he was on the ground, probably from the man's punch "Get up of your arse before I make sitting a permanently painful experience for you, DON'T FUCKING IGNORE ME!" he bellowed, then Harry felt a hand under his chin and force him up, then a burning sensation spread along his lower jaw – screaming in pain he tried to jerk away, only to be held in place by the mans strong grip. "Jeez, he really did a number on you didn't he? No matter walk – now." Harry heard him say before he began struggling along. A sharp lash to his back and he stumbled up what appeared to be a flight of stairs "Now the fun begins" Was all the unknown man said.
-x-
Albus Dumbledore flew over the writhing North Sea, the shadowy vapour casting an ominous taint over the water. He was going back to his master, of course he could just apparate – but he preferred this method of travel, so a mirror of Harry Potter has arrived on this plain, this should be interesting. He thought to himself.
As he sped on he slowly began to enter mountainous terrain, knowing he would be at the castle soon he sent a Legilemency probe to his master – asking him to join him in the tower as soon as possible. I will be there momentarily, Albus was the reply.
Landing atop the ruined tower he magically removed his armor and hung it on the mannequin, he now stood in black and silver robes with Thestrals depicted in silver embroidery. He then felt a disturbance in the air behind him, drawing his wand he span round ready to curse who or whatever was there into oblivion.
"Albus, you're senses have not dulled with age I see" Spoke the Dark Lord, however Albus did not lower his wand. "When in the presence of one as powerful as yourself, my Lord – it is wise to be cautious" He answered, the Dark Lord smirked lowering his own wand as Albus did the same. This was standard procedure, when every Death Eater returned from a task set to them by the Dark Lord they had a sentence, a short conversation that they would have to recite when they returned.
"What news?" The Dark Lord said quietly, coming to stand beside him. "Bellatrix Black has joined forces with Gellert Grindelwald, the Abominations are gathering in Knockturn, however something else has intrigued me." Albus said equally as quietly.
The Dark Lord nodded his head as a signal for Albus to continue "Harry Potter, it appears he is somewhat more able-bodied than he was at our last encounter. It appears, that we have a mirror in our realm my Lord." Dumbledore spoke moving to a small Pensieve on the opposite side of the room "Ahh, so this boy is the something new the Lavender bitch was speaking of, what did you do with him?" Voldemort whispered.
"He is currently taking up residence in Azkaban" Dumbledore answered – Voldemort started "Just how similar is this mirror to our broken husk of a wizard?" He asked deathly calm "His power has developed more than his counterpart, but it is largely uncontrolled and only brought on with the onset of very strong emotions." Dumbledore answered cautiously
"Crucio!" The Dark Lord bellowed, the spell impacting Albus in the small of his back – without his armor the spell impacted with maximum force onto his thin aging body. He collapsed to the ground and writhed in agony "YOU MEAN TO TELL ME THIS BOY HAS THE SAME POWER THAT HIS COUNTERPART COULD HAVE?! AND YOU LET HIM LIVE!" Voldemort bellowed in his mind, he held the curse for a few seconds longer before withdrawing. Dumbledore shook on the ground but quickly regained his footing and bowed at the Dark Lord's feet. "I apologise my Lord, I had thought that you would want the boy broken before the killing blow was struck" He said without a trace of pain in his voice.
"You are right Albus, however you should have brought the boy to me. Instead, he is now in the – capable but incompetent – hands of the Ministry, they will break his body and spirit that I am sure of. However, if he were to break out and re-join his new-found allies, then we would have a problem. I am merciful this time, Albus but do not disappoint Lord Voldemort again." The Dark Lord said menacingly
"What would you have me do, to remedy my grievous error of judgement" Albus asked, the Dark Lord laughed his high cold, cruel laugh "Such elegance Albus, rise - you need not cower any longer" The Dark Lord answered.
"Leave this mirror to me, it is the matter of Gellert Grindelwald I require your assistance with." The Dark Lord hissed, Albus's face darkened in rage "The murderous swine has fled to his fortress, along with his band of rogues. What would you have me do with them?" He asked darkly "Come, walk with me." The Dark Lord responded, moving down the staircase into the room that now served as Dumbledore's personal quarters. They both descended the cavern that used to house the Phoenix staircase. "It is not enough to simply kill off an opponent such as Grindelwald if it were that simple I would have sent a legion to Norway an age ago. No, to simply kill him is a waste of an opportunity – there will be more like Grindelwald and his death would simply serve as the flame to light rebellion. No, we must destroy him and his legacy – that is what I would ask of you, burn his legacy to the ground, break his spirit so's that none ever follow in his footsteps. You will do this task, Albus." The Dark Lord hissed.
"It would be my pleasure, my Lord Voldemort." Albus answered.
-x-
Harry sensed that he had entered some sort of building, as the din of the storm outside had lessened somewhat. A sharp lash to his back had him moving again, however he soon stopped as he collided with something solid.
The solid something turned out to be a person, who's voice he didn't recognise "Oi! Watch who your pushing swine!" He shouted, the sound echoing from the walls. However, Harry heard the cruel sound of the whip ring out and shielded his face with his hands – but no pain came, however he heard the man in front howl in agony, so he assumed that the whip was intended for him instead.
Then he felt a hand grip his throat from behind "Don't let me catch you causing a disturbance again, filth. Else it's the whip for you as well." He heard the unknown man snarl, he didn't respond – then with a grunt the man pushed him forward and walked away, his boots echoing ominously.
"Next prisoner!" shouted a monotone voice that sounded as though it should have come from a machine, rather than a person. The man Harry had slammed into before stomped forward, and then Harry heard a loud clang and he was left in silence.
Harry could still not understand why his sight had not returned with his other senses, did facing off against this worlds Dumbledore have something to do with it? Dumbledore, Harry never thought he would associate that name with the sight he saw at St Mungo's. St Mungo's! That was where I was, but…what happened? How did I end up here? Wherever here is? Where is Gellert and the others?
All these questions where buzzing about in his head, but before he could ponder them further he was bodily dragged into a frigidly cold room and shoved onto a rough wooden chair with no armrests.
"Process the prisoner, Goar" Said a sickly-sweet voice that made Harry's stomach sink with dread Umbridge, Gods she's a bitch here too? Harry thought to himself before being ripped from his thoughts yet again, this time by the large ogre like man – Goar, he thought his name was.
Goar stood him up against the cold stone wall, Harry heard Umbridge approach him "Well well, what have we here hmm? Mr Willem said you were found off the coast rambling about St Mungo's? Isn't it an amazing coincidence that there was a Death Eater attack on St Mungo's little more than a day ago? Hem hem" she laughed her infuriating childish laugh and then gripped his jaw strongly and forced his head up "What do you know about the attack on St Mungo's? Tell me you filthy Death Eater!" She shouted, all trace of childishness gone instead replaced with cruel malice.
"I-I don't know, a-anything about a-any a-atac-ck!" Harry stuttered panickily "And I'm not a Death Eater!" He shouted. "You should not tell lies young man, liars are punished. Goar! Make him talk." She said, Harry's heart froze as she uttered those words that eerily reminded him of her counterpart on his world.
A savage blow to his stomach knocked the wind out of him, he didn't get the chance to catch his breath as the ogre like man landed another solid blow – this time on his left shoulder, he felt his shoulder blade impact the wall and shatter. Pain wracked his whole body, he tried desperately to call on his magic.
However, then something peculiar happened, pain lanced through his body – raising dark purple scaring along his torso and arms, this pain was worse than anything he had ever experienced. Like his very soul was screaming.
It stopped a few minutes later, his breathing was laboured, and his body sagged "Ok Goar, you can stop now. This one isn't any Death Eater, the one with no name dealt with you himself didn't he little boy?" She said.
"W-what d-do y-you m-mean?" Harry struggled to say
"Hem hem, surely you must know of the Dark Lord's most feared servant? You must have heard the stories of what he does to those who cross him? No? Shall I tell you? Very well. It is said that he can produce a Cruciatus Curse so powerful, that it not only tortures the body – but the soul, bending the magic of the victim and enslaving it to his will." She said all this as she walked closer to him.
"Your power is his now, you have no magic. It has been stripped from you." She laughed, a cruel laugh devoid of all mirth.
"Goar! Brand him!" She shouted, and the next thing Harry knew he was thrown to the floor, and whatever rags he was wearing were torn off. Before he could catch his breath, a searing pain coursed through him centred at the back of his neck.
Then he was picked up and slung over Goar's shoulder and marched out of the room. Harry was in shock as he was carried down a long low hallway – My magic is gone? H-how will I get back h-home now? H-how c-could it be t-taken s-s-so e-easily?
For the third time that day he was ripped from his inner turmoil by a voice singing, and percussion made by rough hands on prison bars.
Welcome to/ Ya new home fella!
Welcome to/ the dung heap boy!
Welcome to/ the end o' the line man!
Welcome to, Caer Azkaban!
-x-
Oh, I'm a bastard right? Hahahaha, so this is where the story begins to expand, and we can start to make significant moves in this deadly game of ours. Now, my freaky darlin's – I have some homework for you, who can tell me who Medrawt is? Tell me in the reviews! Any questions feel free to leave a review or PM me.
As always
See you seen my freaky darlin's!