.

So far... Harry and his friends are on their way to rescue Susan Bones from Azkaban prison. She has Salazar Slytherin's locket Horcrux so they must not fail. Hermione, Ginny, and Neville, remain aboard the converted tugboat, Marinda, a few miles offshore, while Ron and Luna in the rowboat, Bulrush, and Harry in the mini-submersible, Glissando, race towards the island fortress of Azkaban. Now read on...

.

Chapter 52

Chary Potter and the Lost Souls Part 7


.

~~~ The Face of Azkaban ~~~

Side by side, Glissando and Bulrush slashed the cold belly of the North Sea, both craft stabilised and cushioned by the Impello charm. In the dark skyline haze before them, Azkaban was now an angry fist of rock thrust up from the white-churned surf.

Harry frowned; did he detect an increasingly troubled chill in the air? As if in response to his reaction, a silvery-blue illumination on his left told him that Luna and Ron had cast their Patronuses. He fixed his thoughts on Ginny's warm embraces and did likewise. The charms would dissuade any stray Dementors from approaching too closely so giving the youngsters a degree of protection and relieving their anxieties. But right now, what worried Harry most was being on time.

Their speed could only be guessed. He knew they must have attained fifteen to twenty knots because the movement spell could do no better, and neither wind nor tide could diminish the magic one jot. Occasionally a larger wave would crash by them but it did not buffet them nor reduce their pace in the slightest.

As they closed upon the towering black cliffs, Harry's eyes flicked to his watch — five minutes to spare. But the pounding ocean had carved out an overhang in the rock far too deep and high to risk. They curved northeast around the worst of it and Harry decided they were out of time — they had to risk it.

He eased off to allow Ron and Luna to surge ahead as planned and watched as they began hovering Bulrush up from the crashing breakers. To his dismay, the vessel collided sideways against the rockface and fell back into the surf. Harry cast a larger illumination to help them. It revealed Bulrush's starboard gunwale was splintered but the hull remained intact. He had a glimpse of Ron's hooded face. He looked wild-eyed and shaken. Only Hermione's waterproof spell had kept him from a thorough drenching in the teeth of the rain and salt spray; Harry at least was cocooned snugly inside Glissando's bubble.

On their second attempt Ron and Luna did better, and the boat magically clamped itself into position clear of all but the topmost breakers. Harry gulped. Why had he not practised this manoeuvre himself? He recalled Hermione's instruction to use Levioso but he had merely watched. He prepared himself to brave the furious walls of water that dashed and broke and foamed against the immovable stone...

Without warning, Glissando lifted itself freely into the air and swung into position. A stanchion buckled slightly and a taught support wire sagged, but otherwise the submersible was upright and secure. He looked out. It had been Luna and Ron who had hovered him up next to Bulrush. Luna gave him a vigorous double thumbs up and a tight smile.

Glissando's internal hatch control was smaller and easier to turn than the outer one but it took many more rotations for Harry to get the hinged cover wide enough for him to attempt to squeeze out. Immediately, the thunderous noise of the breaking waves below him blasted his ears. Ron was atop the hatch by then on his broomstick and Harry passed up Hermione's bag of supplies and his Firebolt. Seawater dripped and slopped down his collar and sleeves.

"They're late!" Ron, wet-faced, shouted down through the clamour. "Have you realised?"

"What?"

"Madam Bones and Marchbanks! Aren't they supposed to have sent their next Patronus by now?"

Harry paused for breath in his climb and looked at his watch again. "Do you think they might have sent it to Neville? He was there with us all in the parlour when the last one came."

"Or Moody." Ron frowned at Harry. "Nothing for it though. We'll have to go ahead without it."

"But..."

"Let's get up there," Ron took a mouthful of wind-driven rain and spray; he spluttered and spat for a few seconds. "Worry about it when we're up top, yeah?"

Harry nodded and pulled himself free. Together they closed the hatch then looked up to see Luna was already ascending the cliff on her broom, leading the way. Two hare Patronuses were bounding up with her. Harry shook his head in disbelief at her blind courage then he and Ron pointed their broomsticks upwards and hurtled after her.

By comparison to the mooring of their boats, the ascent was relatively easy once they had learned to keep well clear of the rockface, and apart from some initial scratches and bruises, the three were soon peering over the topmost edge, trying to keep the brooms steady beneath them.

"Wassat?" said Ron.

Shredded moonlight glinted on a formidable row of tall metal fingers spiking the sky; they were twenty paces inland and disappeared into the darkness on either side.

"It must be the graveyard perimeter railings," said Luna, holding up Madam Marchbanks' rough map to flap in the wind. "Not very pretty are they?"

They had sensed a growing chill of anxiety during their ascent but now a fearful dread was settling upon them. Dark figures were moving beyond the fence and the three youngsters shrunk back below the cliff edge, clinging to their broomsticks. Harry cast a new Patronus to join Luna's and Ron followed his example. They looked at one another grimly.

"Doesn't look good," said Ron. He squinted to see his watch in the luminous blue light of Harry's stag. Harry looked at Luna. She usually had good ideas.

"We should wait, don't you think?" she said.

"But it's already gone six," mouthed Ron.

Harry inched up to peep over the edge one more time. The bright kingfisher almost startled him off his perch as it dived directly at his face.

"In place but running late. About ten minutes more," came Madam Marchbanks' voice. "Remember, we can only divert the Dementors for about half an hour." then the bird was gone.

Harry released a long breath. Ron was nodding slowly, as if affirming to himself what they had to do. Luna, head on one side, was studying the steeply-cracked basalt wall against which their broomsticks hugged. Her large eyes followed its terrifying drop way down to the glistening sea below, and she was mentally sketching it with her unlimited curiosity. "Oh, we've time to enjoy the flashes of moonlight a bit longer then. I expect it will be dismal inside, don't you?"

As she spoke, another gap in the clouds widened, showed their frozen faces shining-wet and chalk-white, while below boiled the icy sea, thwarted for now, but biding its time.

.

~~~ The Boneyard Crossing ~~~

The eventual departure of the Dementors was so gradual it was difficult to know when to make a move but they dared not wait more than a few minutes before trusting to luck. By then they had dismissed their Patronuses and felt no ill effects other than nervous anxiety. It was now or never.

Their broomsticks seemed most reluctant to lift over the high metal fence and once over, sagged down to the ground, spent of their magic. Strangely, the more powerful Firebolt collapsed faster and crashed awkwardly into the rails. The wind seemed to have failed too and the air was quieter. Harry stood up, hood askew, cursing. At least his broomstick was intact but his head felt sore again where it had collided with the fence.

Luna had taken a tumble too, although she bounded up quickly and handed Harry her broomstick for stowing. "It's movement spells isn't it? That's what they've shielded against. Apparition too, I expect. Any magic that might help prisoners escape."

"How'd we get back over when we return then?" groaned Ron. He peered back up at the sharply-pointed railings while Harry stashed their now-useless broomsticks into Hermione's bag. "Nothing to stand on, no cross-rails we can get a grip on..."

Harry visualised himself stood on Ron's shoulders and Luna trying to scramble up over them. Her hands might just reach the top but it would not be enough to get them all out. He could think of no easy solution and shook his head. "Did you find some good rope when you were scouting for supplies?"

Ron nodded and pointed to Hermione's bag now slung over Harry's shoulder.

"Your wound's opened up again," said Ron, pointing at his bandage. It had been clean when they set out; now a small dark stain revealed the position of his injury.

"Is it dripping?" said Harry. He touched it tentatively with his fingers.

"Don't think so. Hard to tell with this misty rain." He rubbed his face. "It makes you more wet than great big drops."

Harry went back to peering into the bag to examine the rope.

"We'll throw up a loop and climb when we get back. No problem."

Harry had said it quickly and firmly and hoped that Ron would believe him for Harry had no idea if they could do it or not. He looked at Luna for something better but she was staring curiously behind them. He and Ron turned to follow her gaze.

Few had ever beheld the graveyard of Azkaban at night, and those that had were unlikely to describe it even if they spoke at all. For the burial grounds were ploughed with deep furrows, each strewn with the worthless dead, and every cadaver left to be interred only when these ditches collapsed inwards. There were no pathways in this cemetery — its deathly managers needed none — so to cross such a ghastly charnel field demanded a stout constitution, an averted gaze, and a bright day preferably. But right now, every furrow was a gutter, puddled with rainwater, and dark as soot in a cellar save for the salt-bleached bones glistening wetly here and there.

Headstones were few — brought in by bitter relatives to mark their fallen kin — and all slumped wearily from the vertical as if they too wished only to lay down and die. A few other grim heaps were spiked with pitiful wooden posts so corrupt, so ancient and disturbed, that any epitaphs had long since rotted away. The majority of the remains were unnamed and scattered.

Sombre was this land of ruination even without the Dementors. One withered posy was the single sign of decent feelings, and despite the gusting wind beyond its unscalable perimeters, Azkaban Cemetery itself was almost as still as death itself. Yet even here were pearly-white tendrils that arose from the awful remains to stir themselves slowly into forms unpleasant and unwelcome to the trio.

"They're ghosts!" moaned Ron in a low whisper. "What kind of...?"

"Intruders?" came a low voice, as thin as the air itself.

"Run for it!" Harry hissed as loudly as he dared. "Before they raise the alarm!"

They tried to leap the furrows but the soft crunching matter underfoot was as unpleasant on the brow as in the trough. Ron tried to stifle a cry as something gripped his ankle and he fell.

Harry was down beside him in the darkness instantly, trying, but failing, to cast a wand light. His magic seemed drained. They could hear a thin muttering around them that lacked audible weight yet carried great import:

"We should alert the guards." "Muds and traitors, no doubt." "Up to no good, disturbing our remains like this..."

One brief flash of the electric torch that Harry fumbled from the bag revealed it was an aged stump root that had brought Ron low. But the murmurings and moaning grew closer while he felt with his fingers to cut the woody growth free with the knife. Without warning, the moon made another appearance. It must have glinted off the blade, for a shout went up to be echoed by many other harsh voices.

"Armed! They be armed!"

"GUARDS! GUARDS! TO ME! TO ME! INTRUDERS IN AZKABAN!"

As Ron's boot came clear and he struggled up he said, "Where's Luna? Has she bolted?"

"We have to keep moving forward, Ron. She'll have to..." He stared ahead. The way was blocked by a multitude of grim spectres, and addressing them was Luna.

"Has anyone seen my great-great-great-grandfather?" Luna's voice drifting back to them seemed to have silenced the ghosts. "He's one of the Dackles, you know. My cousins and I are here to save Mary Dackle. The Dark Lord has commanded us to do his will."

Her words hung in the air on their own for what seemed a very long time.

"I be a Dackle, Obadiah is my given name," came a mournful voice from the throng, "yet who art thou? Thou doest not look at all a true Dackle."

"My grandmother was but a Lovegood," sighed Luna, "though at least she was of pure stock — as is my mother who now is in need of your help."

"Words be cheap here," cried the ancient ghost. "Show me thine stumpy! Be it a true Dackle stumpy?"

Luna thought for only a moment then pulled out Mrs Dackle's little wand from her pocket and extended it forward for inspection as casually as offering a train ticket at any station. As she looked up, the eyes of the apparition glowed wide against the sky behind him. He nodded solemnly. "Only a Dackle can truly wield such. I never thought I wouldst see again..."

"I, your grandson's granddaughter, have dark duties to perform this night, so cannot remain confined nor join you here as yet. How might we free her?"

Still and silent were the ghosts, such that even the wind beyond the railings could be heard whispering — then eery laughter arose to accompany it.

"Ye think to wander in and let escape an inhabitant of this place?" smiled old Dackle. "Azkaban?"

More laughter cackled into the night.

"Yes, that's right," said Luna, in her most matter-of-fact voice, "and I daresay it's rude to laugh at such a daring venture done in the name of Lord Voldemort."

Some of the younger ghosts seem to freeze at the sound of that name. The most recently deceased took a nervous step back. Harry and Ron had been petrified, gob-smacked, since the beginning of this discourse, and remained so.

"It cannot be done," said one, finally, and by the nodding of many heads, it appeared as if he were speaking for all.

"We wish only to enter, find Madam Dackle, and lead her out. I see no reason why it should prove difficult," said Luna, hoping to continue the discussion.

"There be no way out but death," said old Dackle, "as we all do witness."

"Ah," said Luna, "so then there is a way in?"

Dackle stared. "If thou wert vermin, perchance. The beast cages be serviced by lowly troughs. Only minced offal and suchlike can slide twixt those stones."

"You ghosts must be full of cleverness. Can you not do better?" She watched the frowns and doubt spread from face to face. "I would be willing to cheer you with a song in return. It should give you some solace in this mournful place after so long separated from all comforts."

The host of spectres scarcely knew how they should respond.

"What's sh-she d-doing?" whispered Ron, sideways, through his chattering teeth. Harry opened his mouth but nothing came out. He wanted to look at his watch but was mesmerised by Luna and her audience, he was paralysed by not knowing what to do.

"Might we hear the song mayhap thou not return?" said a leathery-skinned witch in Victorian attire.

"Yes."

"E'en thou not survive a moment inside?" she added.

Luna hesitated. The woman's tone of voice had been sinister and the others had become quieter still.

"Yes."

"Thou mayest gain access into Borath's chamber," she sneered.

"I don't like it, Harry," whispered Ron. "This Borath sounds like a watchman or something."

"Might only be his sleeping quarters," Harry hissed back. "If he's on duty at the front then it'll be empty."

"But where is Mr Borath's room?" they heard Luna ask.

The ghost raised an arm and with one crooked finger indicated the way. Her hooded mouth was empty of any jawbone, Luna noticed, and the stifled sniggering that arose around her did nothing to encourage hope, but many of the dead were also now pointing to the back wall of the fortress where, as far as she could tell, there was a window low to the ground and wider than those nearest it.

"Thank you," said Luna, as she tilted her head on one side to think. The apparitions then seemed to lean hungrily towards her in anticipation. A sweet lament came to Luna's recollection, and she reverently moved aside a dessicated femur while she sat upon the high edge of a furrow and began to sing. The melody was delicate and Luna's voice was wistful and pure...

"Doest she wait for heaven's dove?
She who wast my own true love?
"

Harry could hear Ron muttering through clenched teeth beside him. "This is not happening... not happening... not happening..." Harry tugged on his sleeve and gestured with his eyes and a swivel of his head where they should go.

Slowly at first, the pair of them inched away to skirt around the ethereal gathering, aware of every squelchy crunch under their feet. But the apparitions all seemed transfixed by the melody and Ron swore he saw a tear glint in a ghostly eye here and there.

"Wither canst I e'er reach out,
Finding naught but hopeless doubt?
"

Many of the ghosts were wailing faintly behind them by the time Harry and Ron reached the north walls of Azkaban. They had lost sight of their objective after circling around the ghosts but they worked their way along, peering carefully into windows, trying to find the larger one they had been shown earlier.

"There's an open courtyard the other side of this cell," said Ron. "If only our broomsticks worked we could fly over and into it."

Harry squinted at where Ron was pointing. It was an eery enclosure he could see in the half-moonlight. Thick dust drifts lay like grey snow from end to end and all its windows were heavily barred. In the centre of the yard was a dark sludge where a little rain had managed to penetrate but naught else.

"Even if we could fly over into it, I can't see any door," said Harry. "It's to let daylight and air in, that's all. Come on, let's stick to the plan."

When they found the large window, it was a disappointment. What had seemed a dark opening from a distance was a large iron grid extending from waist high down into the filth that had accumulated against the base of the great stones. Though rusty, its bars were thick and unmoving when they grasped them. Ron bent forward to peer through it; he did not want to kneel in the mess. The stench was vile. He staggered back suddenly.

"What?" whispered Harry.

"Half-giant," moaned Ron. "Bigger than Hagrid."

"Damn! Borath? He's there?"

Ron nodded. "But lying down. Might be asleep."

"Well someone like Hagrid's not so bad. Can we sneak past?"

"Harry, most half-giants are more giant than human from what I've heard."

"So?" Harry leaned forward for a look. He had a shock. "The far wall is all iron bars! The door is metal too! He's not a watchman, Ron, he's a bloody prisoner and he's locked in! What use is that to us even if we could get in there? The ghosts tricked us. I knew it."

They heard Luna scampering up to join them.

"You were right about telling lies being for good sometimes, Harry," she said cheerfully. "I need to practise more but they seemed to believe my story."

Ron said, "You were awesome, Luna! "How did you know old Dackle was there?"

"I didn't," smiled Luna, "but the belief in blood supremacy runs in families so there was a chance there might be a Dackle."

"How'd they take it?" said Harry. "The song, I mean?"

"Oh, I think it went very well," she replied. "Some of them were crying, and one tried to dash himself against the spiky rails but he couldn't kill himself again. I don't think they can even get out actually."

"Nobody answered their warning cries, come to think of it," acknowledged Ron.

"That's right..." said Harry thoughtfully. "Dementors won't hear them and I don't suppose they can sense their feelings either because they're dead."

"But what about the human guards at the front? Reckon Madam Bones and Marchbanks took care of them?"

"Let's hope so." Harry took another peek into the dungeon. There was an immense drop of almost thirty feet to the dimly lit floor below; the ceiling was lost in shadow just above the window through which Harry was looking.

"Oh, look," said Luna. "That must be where they push in the food, where she meant us to enter."

Ron and Harry's faces turned upwards and they groaned. A slimy aperture, no more than a separation of huge stones, gaped from the wall a foot above their heads.

"No way," said Ron. "Anyway, we'd break our necks."

Harry dug into Hermione's bag and retrieved the rope. He started knotting a series of loops along its length.

"What are those for?" said Ron.

"Have you ever tried climbing a slippery rope, Ron? It's not that easy without loops."

Ron and Luna joined in and as soon as they had finished, Harry tied one end of the rope around a thick iron slat of the grid then threw the coil up into the dark hole. Nothing happened.

"The other end's not dropped down," said Ron.

"Probably stuck in the gunge," said Harry, philosophically. "You'd better go first, Ron."

"What! Why me?"

"You're the biggest. If you get stuck or the rope snaps under your weight then at least me and Luna can get away to safety."

Ron did not see Harry wink at Luna but there was enough moonlight to reveal his grin. "Ron, you're the strongest for climbing. Just quickly try the unlocking charm on that door down there then come back up if it won't open. We'll have to think of something else."

They gave him a leg up and he disappeared into the gap except for his feet. His flapping hand appeared again too, along with incoherent muttering. "Can't see."

"Light your wand then, Ron," said Harry.

"Not working," came the faint voice.

"Why am I not surprised?" muttered Harry. He lit his Muggle flashlight and pushed it between Ron's fingers.

"I hope that doesn't mean we can't use any spells at all in the prison," Harry said.

"Well, I'm sure they need some magic to work inside, don't they?" said Luna. "It would be really difficult to manage even a little house without spells."

All of Ron was now out of sight for a while then, abruptly, his face poked out. "It's really low at the front but it angles down three or four feet to the drop and it's slippery so you've got to be really — aaaaagh!"

Harry watched Ron clawing desperately at the stone before sliding away into darkness. His face was lost to them for a few seconds then they heard his voice whispering from the grid at their feet. He was swinging with one foot in a loop of the rope. He mouthed something rude then began his descent.

"You next, Luna, okay? But we'll wait till Ron is safely down and gives the thumbs up."

She smiled and nodded. "But you won't be able to climb up into the gap yourself then, will you?"

"Uuh... no." Harry looked around for something to stand on.

"When I get to the bottom, I'll tell Ron," said Luna. "We can both pull tight on the rope so you have something to climb up into the chute."

"Good thinking."

They watched together down through the window as Ron reached the end of his descent and walked tentatively to the great barred door of the cell to try the unlocking charm. When he looked up at them, he shook his head then began examining the wall.

"What do we do, Harry?" said Luna. "The other food chutes are much too small."

"I think we have to go down to see if we can find a way. Maybe try a blasting spell?"

"But if the giant wakes we won't all three of us get up the rope quickly."

Harry bit his lip. "I can't think of anything else. Can you?"

Luna frowned hard but decided they didn't have time for any more thinking. "We have to go ahead, no matter what."

He helped her up into the slide then waited his turn.

.

~~~ The Beast Cages ~~~

By the time Harry had reached the others below, Ron was looking exasperated. "Alohomora doesn't work on the door. And there's something else magical going on," he whispered. "See?"

Harry looked closely where Ron was pointing. The long inner wall of the chamber was made of immensely thick stone blocks barely four feet high. This solid base supported vertical iron bars, nearly as thick as a fist, that stretched up into dark shadow and were strengthened by an excessive number of heavy horizontal cross members. Through this formidable barrier came the only illumination — a faintly flickering light — suggesting there was at least one wall torch in the passageways beyond.

As if this hindrance was not enough, against it were the vague outlines of other narrower, translucent bars criss-crossed diagonally. As he stared they seemed to glow and pulse a dull red yet they were neither hot nor cold to the touch. He had the disturbing impression of being on exhibit in a zoo and the effect brought to his mind how tall were the Dementors. He shuddered and reached for his wand involuntarily, visualising those creatures silently gliding the outer passage and sucking the hopes and dreams up through these bars from the exposed and vulnerable prisoners. He pulled away deeper into the cell, followed by Ron. Luna was examining the sleeping monster — rather too closely for Harry's comfort.

"I have no idea what to do, Ron. I wish Hermione was here."

He remembered then her spell book and pulled it out of the bag. He leafed through it for inspiration while Ron held up the electric torch.

"Anything?" said Ron.

Harry shook his head and said gloomily, "There's lots but I don't know what to look for. How'd we know any magic will even work in here."

He took out his wand and found he could cast a small glimmer light. "Some magic works at least."

Ron and Harry looked at each other, slightly encouraged. If one spell worked, then there might be others too. Luna came over to try a light too and Harry gave her the spell book to read.

"Anything to do with getting through wards, doors, gates, that sort of thing," he said.

He went back to worrying over his watch with the same sensation he had suffered as a child. He'd been woken early by hunger and crept down to steal a slice of bread when he'd heard his Uncle Vernon coming downstairs. Harry looked at Ron dismally. "We won't make it," he said finally. "The Dementors will start coming back in just over ten minutes. We can't possibly get through, find Susan, and..."

"Fe, Fi, Fo, Fum, I smell the blood of an Englishman."

The words had been extremely faint, almost inaudible and it was difficult to judge from which direction.

Ron's face, already pale, went white. "What the bloomin' Merlin's toothbrush was that?"

Luna closed the book very slowly and quietly, her eyes were bulging. Harry's mouth gaped as he strained to hear more. They looked at the creature on its straw mattress but the half-giant appeared to remain asleep.

"What might Harry Potter be doing in Azkaban, I ask myself?" came the distant voice again.

"It's a girl! It must be Susan!" said Luna, excitedly, looking at the map. "Her cell's not too far from here!"

"Shh..." said Harry. Something didn't feel right. "How could she know I'm here? Do you think the ghosts knew it was me and told her? Why would they? She's not a Dackle. Do you reckon maybe there really is a Dackle in here?"

Ron was staring at the side of Harry's head and Harry's hand instinctively went up to his dark-stained bandage. Ron whispered, "Sirius did say prisoners become more sensitive to smells and things."

"But How could anyone know me by the smell of my blood! She must have heard me whispering."

"Is 'ickle Potty come to rescue us?"

Harry couldn't stand it any longer. He strode to the barred wall and the other two went with him. "Who are you? How did you know it was me?"

Laughter, a maniacal cackle, echoed down the bleak passageways from a cell further along on the other side. A woman with heavily hooded eyes and thick, dusty hair that might once have been black returned his fierce stare. "The Dark Lord is gracious to those that serve him, Harry Potter."

Ron nudged Harry's elbow and hissed, "Her picture was in the Prophet, remember? It's Bellatrix Lestrange!"

"Could that be a Weasley? And who's his girlfriend there. Might that be Loony Loopy Lovechild with the batty brain?"

"You're the one who's mad," cried Harry, forgetting completely the dormant beast close by in their dungeon. "You're Voldemort's slave aren't you! How dumb is that!"

'Shut your mouth!' Bellatrix shrieked, and there was a look of astonishment on her face. You dare speak his name with your unworthy lips!"

"He's a vile murderer, that's what he is!" Harry yelled, then he lowered his voice. "But he's blind and useless now."

A cunning expression spread across the face of Bellatrix. "The Dark Lord will rise again stronger than ever! Did you think he cannot? He entrusted me to keep your blood, Harry Potter. Only a few drops are needed. Had you supposed it was all used? There can be no escape from his retribution. Even now he prepares a special torment for you and your little friends..."

Harry froze. What was she talking about?

Bellatrix sensed his fear. "He will rise and save me yet again. He will reward his most faithful servant."

Harry tried to speak but his voice cracked. "He doesn't even know you're here. Nobody does. According to the Daily Prophet you fled to Europe. Voldemort thinks you deserted him!"

"You lie! No one could—"

Harry had a flash of inspiration. "Dumbledore arranged it all! Even the Minister himself doesn't know you're back here where you belong. I doubt you're even in the records. And Dumbledore's dead now, did you know? Of course not. So absolutely no one knows or cares if you even exist anymore!" A suspicion that Sirius shared this knowledge crossed Harry's mind but he had no intention of voicing that thought.

"No! The Dark Lord knows all!"

"Oh well, nice meeting you, Bellatrix," said Harry, gaining in confidence. "Enjoy your stay!" He pulled his friends back deeper into Borath's dungeon out of the Death Eater's view.

"No, wait!" pleaded Bellatrix. There was a pause. "Harry Potter has some purpose here in Azkaban, I tell myself. What might it be?"

Ron shook Harry's arm and worriedly pointed to his watch.

"Throw us a wand and I can help you." Bellatrix's voice was wheedling, uncertain.

Harry ran to the bars again. "Tell us how to get through this barrier and maybe we can deal."

"Give me a wand and you will be rewarded greatly: endless treasure, mysteries solved, all that you ever wished to know and have is yours if you lend me a wand for only a few minutes..."

"Don't listen to her, Harry!" snarled Ron.

Luna joined Harry at the long window and cried out, "Would he know where the Crumple-horned Snorkack might be found?"

"LUNA!" snapped Harry.

There was a pause.

"The Dark Lord has knowledge and wisdom beyond any mortal man. He knows all magical creatures."

"Can you give me your word you won't harm my friends, Mrs Lestrange?" called Luna.

"You have my word I will not."

Harry was staring directly at Luna with astonishment but even so he was taken by surprise.

"Incarcerous!" Both Ron and Harry were in the line of fire of Luna's curse. They slumped to the floor, bound, gagged, and helpless.

Bellatrix's eyes flared and something like delight and the fire of hope played across her face. "Throw me his wand."

Luna reached down, seized Harry's wand, then threw it as hard as she could towards Bellatrix. It clattered against the enchantment and fell back. "It's this magical barrier. There's no way through to reach you, I don't think."

"You silly girl! Use the grand emancipation spell. Watch me carefully!"

Bellatrix moved her arm in a slow swish then flicked upwards as she cried. "Emancipare Maxima!"

"Oh, let me try!" Luna raised her own wand and copied Bellatrix's motions. "Emancipare Maxima!"

There was a suffusion of fizzling light across the entire magical barrier, then the delicate, enchanted cage bars vanished.

"Good girl! Now, throw me his wand," cried Bellatrix.

"Just a moment." Luna bent down, picked up the wand, and pointed it at Harry and Ron. They glared up at her from the floor. "Finite," she said softly, then pushed the wand back into his pocket. She stood back as Ron and Harry sat up in astonishment.

"Luna!" hissed Harry. "You nearly gave me a heart attack!"

"But you said it was alright to tell lies sometimes," she said despondently.

"Luna, you were bloody brilliant! Scary, but brilliant," whispered Ron. "So, can we get out now?"

Luna signalled them to lie low. She went to the door and tried to unlock it but without success.

"What are you waiting for!" Bellatrix cried shrilly. "The doors to these cages are moulded into the stone while the occupant lives! They can never be opened! Don't you understand? You can throw me the wand now, then I'll let you out, I promise!"

"We'll have to see if a blasting spell will work," said Harry grimly. He looked back at the still-sleeping half-giant. "We'll have to run for it though."

"Let's do a tiny one in this corner," said Luna. "Ready?" They nodded. "I'll do it softly. Hermione says it's the thought that counts."

"Just do it!" hissed Harry. "Hurry!"

She pointed her wand. "Bombarda," she said quietly.

There was a dull explosion and one of the great stone blocks of the lower wall blackened and was thrust back a few inches while Luna herself was pushed over in the opposite direction to sit down on the floor with a bump and a surprised look on her face, if anyone could have seen it, for a great cloud of filthy, choking muck had risen up, filling the air in the cell. Everything was obscured; the only sense of direction was Bellatrix screaming at Luna. But after a few moments, there was another voice...

"Hoo theh?" came a sleepy growl from behind them. Swirls of the chaff and dust indicated two great arms were ineffectively trying to sweep aside the fog.

Luna pushed upon the displaced stone block but it was unmoving. Harry dragged her well away and thundered, "Bombarda Maxima!"

They were all thrown over by the resulting ear-deafening detonation. There was a muffled roar behind them. Borath had awoken fully at last.

"Come on!" yelled Ron. He had seen that several blocks had been blasted right through the lower part of the wall and he made a dive for the gap. Luna scrabbled after him on hands and knees. Harry cast another blasting curse behind himself though he didn't hang around to see the result. Ron dragged Harry half into the corridor as he was squirming in the hole but on the other side, Borath had him by the foot. With Ron tugging and a last wriggle, Harry felt something ripped painfully away from him, and was relieved to find it was only his shoe that was missing.

"Accio shoe!" He shook his head then pointed his wand at his other foot. "Geminio!"

Harry called out to Ron in exasperation, "it's no good. It's not working."

In the passageway, thick pale dust hung in the air, thrown up by the explosion, and causing them to cough. The stone floor below it trembled as the frustrated goliath pounded the dungeon wall with his great fists, angry that the gap was not large enough for his monstrous body. His bellows had reverted to some other coarse language which Harry thought must be that of the giants.

"The map, Luna, quickly!" gasped Harry, as soon as he had hobbled on a few paces to where the choking dust had thinned out a little and the feeble, yellowish light of an untended wall torch provided just enough illumination to examine the map, and reveal that Susan's cell was not much further along the gloomy passageways.

Other prisoners, temporarily relieved of the Dementors influence, could now be heard shouting, calling, and cursing. The three friends ran onward. The passage passed Bellatrix's cell and they could see her rage was distorting the iron door magically. The metal screeched and groaned as it deformed.

"I don't need your wand, you half-blood scum!" she screamed as they approached. One of the bars was twisting to one side...

"Quickly!" shouted Harry to the others. He and Luna rushed past, but when he glanced back, Ron had stopped.

"Ron! What are you waiting for!"

Ron Weasley seemed to be mesmerised by Bellatrix as she glared madly through the iron bars of the warped door — but it was not her wandless magic that held him.

"Five bars, Harry... The five lines on my amulet, one bent, remember? Here they are!" Ron pointed at the iron bars set into Bellatrix's cell door. He looked both elated and relieved. "It's not me that's locked up in Azkaban looking out; I'm looking in — at her!"

Harry, still one-shoed, struggled stiff-legged to sprint back to grab his friend, panting, "That's great Ron! But a few more minutes and it could be the other way round! Come on! We've got to—"

He didn't finish. Bellatrix's magical fury exploded at Harry; he staggered as if hit in the chest by a heavy sack.

"The Dark Lord will avenge me upon you and your helpers, Potter! You are all to suffer endlessly, especially you and your Mudblood girlfriend! Yes! He is already planning the most exquisite, neverending torment for Granger and—"

"NOOO!" screamed Ron, and Harry saw Ron's hand flash to his wand pocket.

"Don't, Ron! Leave her! Let's go!"

But Ron's anger was not to be so easily soothed away. "Emancipare Maxima!" he yelled.

Bellatrix, alarmed, took a step back... but nothing had happened.

Bellatrix shrieked with laughter. "So the Mudblood is your whore is she, Weasley, you blood-traitor! All the more shall she suffer! She and all of you will face the righteous wrath of the Dark Lord!"

"He knows nothing! And I'll never let you tell him either! wailed Ron. "Luna! Luna! What's the movements! What's the wand moves!"

"No, Ron, I won't tell you," Luna called, distantly.

Bellatrix was now babbling hysterically. They same mad cackling they had heard earlier echoed down the passages of Azkaban.

Harry tried to drag Ron away but he struggled against him. "Come on, Ron! We're out of time!" Even as he said it, an increased chill came upon the air and a fear gripped his heart. "Leave her here!"

"No! No! No! They won't get Hermione!" He pushed Harry away.

"BOMBARDA MAXIMA!" bellowed Ron, and half the lower stone wall of Bellatrix's dungeon exploded inwards.

Through a falling rain of filthy straw and centuries-old soot, a dreadful shriek ended unexpectedly. Within the haze, a large slab of masonry could be seen laid across the dark witch, and she was held there by its weight. Bellatrix was still ranting, but softly mouthing — without breath — her very last curses. Blood trickled from between her lips. She stopped struggling. In her eyes was disbelief.

"I didn't... mean..." cried Ron. "I wasn't..."

A new wave of shouts had erupted from the nearby cells after the loud bang had finished echoing along the narrow halls. Pallid, desolate faces, striped by their cell windows, flashed into view, begging they be helped. Luna came running back then and countered the magical barrier to Bellatrix's cell. Without magic, three of them struggled to pivot the block away from the dark witch, and when they had, it was very evident that Bellatrix's chest was crushed. A final damning glare was fixed in her eyes and, at last, the strange, thick dust began to draw a blanket over Bellatrix Lestrange's motionless form.

They were forced to pull Ron away, were Harry and Luna. He was blubbering and whimpering as they hurried him along the passage. "I've never..."

"It was an accident, Ron!" roared Harry impatiently, for now both his unshod foot and his chest were hurting almost as much as his head. "Come on, snap out of it. We need you!"

Luna had already cast three Patronuses but the air was growing more chilling as they ran. The tendrils of fear crept through them, slowing and stiffening their movements. Feebly, Ron tried to cast his own Patronus but failed. Harry managed only a silvery filament then felt an awful melancholy fall upon him, pulling him down, down...

"Harry! Think of Ginny! We're through! We're here! Look, that must be Susan's cell! We are going to rescue her! Then we'll escape! We've succeeded!" She smiled at Harry and cast a fourth hare Patronus which bounded around him excitedly.

Luna's new Patronus helped Harry to rally a little, and he closed his eyes, focusing on Ginny's last kiss through the hatch of Glissando.

"Expecto Patronum!" A weak, silvery-white stag poured shakily from his wand and took up position in the dank corridor. Harry was trembling but he braced himself to continue.

Luna was peering between the bars of the nearest cell. Harry joined her.

"It's her, isn't it?" said Luna, quietly.

The figure that lay on the filth within the dungeon seemed pitifully small, curled up as it was in a thin rag that reminded Harry of the house-elf, Dobby.

"Susan?" he called. There was no response. Luna removed the magical beast cage enchantment, but to Harry, Susan lay too motionless to be only asleep.

"We have to blast the physical wall as well, Harry," said Luna, explaining it as if to a confused child, "over here, away from her end of the dungeon."

"Yes, yes..." muttered Harry, who was suffering again an encroaching apathy. Had they come all this way for nothing?

Ron was stood aside by himself, ashen, and mumbling. He scarcely noticed the new explosion as Susan's cell was broken into. Harry stiffened his resolve once more and, with enormous effort, cast a second Patronus before following Luna inside.

"Susan?" said Luna, gently.

"It's me, Harry Potter," said Harry, softly. He reached out to gently shake her arm...

A high-pitched feral screech scraped Harry's nerves raw as the dungeon's inhabitant spun around viciously upon him and sank her teeth deeply into his left hand which he had instinctively flung up to protect himself on that side. The creature — for its behaviour was more like a scalded wildcat than a young girl — lashed out with grimy, twisted fingernails, clawing and scratching wildly at his face. Its eyes, savage and red with malice, pierced his, and throughout this tumult, a thin, high voice was uttering itself directly within him, "Harry Potter... Susan has informed me of you..."

It was Luna who released him with a stunning spell cast upon the possessed girl, then she bound her with the same spell she had used on Harry and Ron earlier. Harry, grimacing with near-unbearable pain, pressed upon the back of his hand to try to slow the dripping blood. Nausea added to his misery. Luna plucked Hermione's bag from his shoulder and found a dressing that Ginny had provided for his head injury, and tied it instead around Harry's new wound.

An ominous hush had settled upon Azkaban. The pitiful calls of the prisoners had lapsed. Borath's thunderous bellows were reduced to a whimper, then ceased completely. A yet deeper silence approached along the labyrinthian passages, cold and relentless. Luna wrapped Susan in one of the blankets.

"Have... c-carry her b-between us," gasped Harry. His hand felt as if it had been crunched in the jaws of a tiger. Intolerable stabs of agony brought tears to his eyes and he stared at Ron who merely looked back at him vaguely. Luna took the supply bags and ran back along the way they had come, luminous hares leaping after her, and Ron and Harry, feeling that assurance departing, prepared to follow her.

"R-Ron, m-must ... t-try," stammered Harry. "W-won't m-make it ... without you."

Ron nodded and tried to cast his Patronus. In a near-inaudible whisper he breathed, "Can't... Harry, never killed anyone before. Didn't mean it."

"K-Know you ... d-didn't. W-Worry ... later or you r-risk our lives ... and Hermione's t-too."

Harry hadn't like to say it but it was like a slap in the face to Ron. He stared briefly then nodded and helped Harry pick up the bound and blanketed Susan. Harry grimaced tightly and almost dropped her.

"She's so thin," said Ron. "I can manage her on my own. You need some dittany on that wound."

They hurried after Luna.

Harry and Ron found her crouching out below the twisted iron bars of Bellatrix's cell wall. When she stood up and saw them, Luna said mournfully, "She's gone! She deceived us! Confundus or some other magic, I think. Her injury seemed so real to me."

"Can't be!" Harry pushed past her and ducked inside. There was no sign of the dark witch other than a bloody footprint headed to the gaping hole in the wall.

Harry groaned and sank to his knees, hurting all over. By now, the pain in his hand had dulled to a fiery throbbing ache but continued to trouble and distract him. His Patronus had faded and disappeared. Up above, through the small, gridded window of Bellatrix's dungeon, dark shapes glided back and forth. Distant doors could be heard opening throughout the prison. Ron, with Susan in his arms, stared though the distorted iron bars at the place where the dark witch had lain.

"Ron," said Luna, "you didn't kill Bellatrix and you're not a murderer. Hermione loves you and admires you. We'll tell her how you fought your fears and struggled on to help us escape. Think of her. Think of her holding you, so happy to see you again, so proud of you."

Ron carefully laid down Susan then, and leaned, face against the lonely wall of Bellatrix's dungeon, striving to compose himself. What thoughts struggled through his mind, Luna did not know, what vision raised his spirit, she would never learn, but when his Patronus scampered from his wand, bright and powerful, she rejoiced with him.

"Let's go!" said Ron, lifting up Susan again. "Harry?"

Encouraged by Ron's success, Harry also tried again and managed a new, but weaker Patronus. The two youths staggered off towards Borath's dungeon. Harry was limping badly now. Luna took one last look around, picked up something she had dropped, then hurried after her friends, casting more Patronuses as she ran.

.

~~~ Trapped ~~~

They held back, pressed against the wall, as they neared the half-giant's cell. Harry peered anxiously round for Hermione's bag. Luna caught them up and knew what he was looking for.

"Here's the bag, Harry."

He took out his cloak. "How the hell are we going to do this? How can all three of us get past Borath and get Susan up the rope? Hovers don't work. Brooms don't work. Is there another way? How do the guards get up to the graveyard?"

There was little time to think. Ron frowned. "You mean, how'd they dispose of the dead?"

Harry nodded. "Suppose I go up first and throw down my cloak for you?"

"Mobilicorpus," said Luna, softly.

"What?" said Harry, squinting over his shoulder at her in the gloom.

"That must be how the dead are taken out. St. Mungo's use it too. I think we should try it on Susan because she's not conscious."

While Luna used the charm to float Susan from Ron's arms, Harry pulled on his cloak and advanced down the passage. They watched his stag Patronus trotting silently after him then Ron and Luna followed with Susan but kept against the wall out of sight. Their own Patronuses skipped softly around them.

"We're in luck, he's...!" Harry called back, pulling off his cloak. Then he groaned.

"What is it, Harry?" called Ron in a loud whisper. "Should we come forward?"

"Borath's broke his fool neck," said Harry.

"That's great!" said Ron. "I mean, not great for him of course..."

They joined Harry who was pointing at the huge figure that lay twisted upon the filth-matted floor. "I think the idiot tried to climb our rope and... well, look."

"He's bloody snapped it! He's snapped our effing rope!" cried Ron. "Now what do we do?"

Harry coiled up the fallen half but there was no way to cast it up the thirty feet to the food chute, so, reluctantly he stuffed it into Hermione's bag.

"Your lost shoe!" cried Ron, and scooping it up, he tossed it to Harry.

Harry sat in the filth to pull the shoe over his sore foot. "Luna?" he said. "You seem to get the best ideas. What about that mobilus thingy? Can it fly us up? I'm hurting so much I'm not sure I can climb well."

"It only works on dead and unconscious creatures," said Luna, mournfully. "But that's not our greatest problem at the moment."

They looked at her and felt cold fear cascading over themselves. She was staring upwards towards the half-giant's dungeon grid that opened onto the graveyard. Because of its large size they had a clearer view of the gathering of tall dark shapes that was accumulating there, far more than they had realised. A numbness took Harry and he turned away, struggling to think of Ginny. Instead he watched as one of the hare Patronuses faded then and Luna struggled out into the corridor to compose herself. He followed, dragging with him Ron, who looked horrified at what blocked their only escape.

They sat in the thick dust, their backs to Borath's wall, detecting the approach of more Dementors through the prison passageways only by the faint clang of doors and an increasing sense of futility. One by one, their Patronuses failed. Even Luna could not cast one with any form. They looked at each other. At last Harry recognised how much he had depended on Luna. She should have been leader, he now realised.

"Still think they're not real, Luna?" Ron said dryly; he couldn't even force a smirk.

"They seem real, but they are only our fears taking visible shapes."

Ron was too tired to argue. He just didn't care anymore about anything. They all lapsed then into a torpor, awaiting the inevitable. They had done their best but what did that matter?

"Feel that?" muttered Ron. His voice was so faint that the other two barely heard him.

"Yeah ... always been meaningless," mumbled Harry, "never any point ... when ... think about it..."

"Amulet, I meant. Nice ... tell us we're in danger. Like we didn't know."

"No, ... only yours," said Luna, "...pulling to?"

"But... uuh... to myself..."

"Look at it, Ron," said Luna, rather feebly. Her eyes were closed now. "...might mean something, don't you think?"

Ron tugged out his amulet and examined it cursorily. "Nothing. ... I'm an arse. ... Got that right. ... Stupid, pathetic arse..."

Nobody spoke. Harry had not moved for a while. Not far off, perhaps the next passageway, a door creaked open...

Luna drew a quick breath suddenly. "No ... it's a mirror... yes, it's a mirror!" Ron was barely conscious. He sensed Luna stiffen against him. "Ron! Harry! Harry! Wake up!"

But Harry had fallen into darkness and was slumped against Ron's shoulder.

.

~~~ Mirror, Mirror ~~~

With an effort, Luna slid her back up the wall until she was on her feet then closed her eyes tight. Ron heard her softly singing to herself. The words he could not make out but the melody was hauntingly beautiful.

"Expecto Patronum!"

Luna's new Patronus revived Ron slightly. "What's ... mean ... Luna?"

Luna was struggling to find something in Hermione's bag. "It's not here! It's..."

She looked at Harry then. "Ron, we have to wake him!"

"Why? What's it matter?"

"Ron, think of Hermione. She needs you! Think of how she thinks of you!"

Ron blinked. Groggily he struggled up. Luna was shaking Harry but he did not respond. Another door banged open very close. They were coming... The Dementors were coming...

"Quickly! Help me!"

Luna was conjuring human-like phantoms as fast as she could. Ron had not really mastered that art and had to watch as the spectral creatures drifted mournfully away, hopefully to confuse and delay the approaching menace.

Together, he and Luna dragged Harry deeper along the passage, to get as far away from the approaching Dementors as possible, to buy a little time. Susan hovered along behind them.

Luna cast a second Patronus then, and Ron, seeing her face ablaze with a new idea and a new hope, succeeded in producing one of his own terriers.

"Harry! Harry!" Luna slapped his face.

"Chocolate!" mumbled Ron, scrabbling in his own bag.

Together, they crushed and forced some of the sweet chocolate into Harry's mouth. Harry spluttered.

"Mirror! Mirror!" cried Luna.

"Wha...?"

"Your two-way mirror, Harry!" cried Luna. "How'd you get it out?"

Harry blinked dazedly. Luna seemed to be babbling and making no sense as usual, he thought. Get it out?

"Sirius's mirror! It's Christmas! We're happy! You open your parcel!"

Harry groped for Hagrid's invisible shrinking pouch below his throat. Seemingly from nowhere he pulled out the little mirror.

"Mr Black! Mr Black! Look in your mirror! We need your help!" cried Luna. "Which way did you get out? Oh, do hurry to your mirror, Mr Black, please!"

Her reflection in the looking glass swam and swirled, then the face of Sirius Black appeared. He took one look past Luna's shoulder at the dread stone walls he knew so well and his face paled.

"Oh, Merlin! What have you done?"

"Can you help us please? Can you tell us which way you escaped?"

She pulled out the map and held it up to the mirror. "We're here, near the beast cages where they put the most dangerous, uncontrollable prisoners!"

There was a look of horror on Sirius's face and he shook his head. "Did you find the courtyard to the west? Can you get to it?"

"There's no way out from there!" said Ron. "Me and Harry saw it when we were outside."

"Can you reach it from inside?"

"Probably," said Ron. "It's the direction we came from anyway. Depends how long this passage is."

"Go then, and hurry!" His eyes flickered around the perimeter of the mirror. "And get all those thick clothes off ready!"

With that, the mirror showed only Luna's excited face again. "Oh, we have to be naked! I'm sure Mr Black must have a special portal that only works on living things like a dog without any clothes on! How clever! Dementors are not life so they won't be able to follow!"

Ron gaped at her, as stunned as if a Dementor had grabbed him by the throat. "Are you sure he meant that?" he croaked.

They forced Harry to his feet and dragged him away down the passageways. He kept crying out in pain but they could not leave him. The more distance they put between themselves and the Dementors, the more he revived and Luna insisted on him continuing to consume chocolate as they hurried along.

They were compelled to blast through a wall into another corridor but eventually Ron declared that he had glimpsed the courtyard far off through two more cells. The occupant of the first shrank into one corner, quivering and staring at them fearfully through the bars. His eyes were empty except for terror and despair and it was obvious he had no comprehension of anything happening around him.

Harry too, had been in deep confusion for the last few minutes. Now, beyond the worst of the Dementors' influence, he gasped, tried to shake himself, and blinked about. He felt awful, as if he had suffered flu for a year. His hand was ablaze with pain and the side of his head was so uncomfortably sore he could not think straight. His chest felt like one huge bruise and his shoe seemed painfully tight on his swollen foot. "Where are we?"

"On the way to the courtyard. I'm sure there must be a magical portal waiting there for us, Harry! Sirius told us to go this way, remember? But first we have to get through here."

She looked closely at the dungeon wall.

"These are normal cells," she said, and opened the door with a simple unlocking charm. They crouched next to the trembling prisoner. Luna pushed some chocolate into his hands but his wild glare showed he did not understand. She took it from his limp grasp and moved it into a slimy food trough, half worn away by years of scrabbling fingernails. This triggered one of the few instincts left to the poor creature and he reached out to wolf down the sweet confectionery, wrapper and all.

Ron blasted an opening out into the corridor beyond the other side of his cell. They never saw the shocked man move again — not even as they departed through the gap they had made.

Across the way was another smaller cell, this one was empty except for a woman's ragged corpse. They pressed in together then peered out of the window at the courtyard, thick with the same pale dust that was almost everywhere. Nothing stirred.

"Sirius? But why'd he send us here?" said Harry, swallowing another dose of Luna's 'medicine'. "Those prison cells overlooking the court, they all look empty to me. Can you see any way out, 'cos I don't. It's a sealed yard: a dead end."

Ron barked, "Where's your damned portal, Luna? Where?"

"Trust Sirius," said Luna. "He seemed very positive."

Harry shrugged, and now his shoulder ached. At least the Dementors had been outmanoeuvred and outdistanced for a few minutes more, but what to do?

They used a smaller blasting charm to remove only the window this time, then Ron closed the cell door before they climbed out. "It might not be so noticeable which way we came," he said to Luna, "slow them down, kind of thing."

Noticeable or not, they were ensnared inescapably. Each of them tramped the thick white-grey dust drifts to traverse the walls of the yard in different directions but there was no obvious way forward except to blast a way through into more cells. Nothing that might be a magical portal was visible. What was worse, the west end of the graveyard could again be seen through distant bars, and, like blind flies to a jam jar, Dementors were trying to move in their direction, drawn by their anxieties. They cast more Patronuses and wondered what to do. The moon came out more fully to spotlight the trap they were in. There was no going back, and no way to go forward.

.

~~~ Naked Fear ~~~

"Oh, I know why we're stuck! We're supposed to be nude!" cried Luna. She took Harry's bag and began to remove her clothing then stuff it inside.

"What!" cried Harry.

"That's what Sirius told us," nodded Ron, fumbling reluctantly with a few top buttons.

"It's the special magic, you see — that works in Azkaban when other magic doesn't. I'm sure that's it," said Luna. She sounded delighted to have the answer to their dilemma. "I think our clothes might strangle us if the magic forces us away without them. Imagine being pushed onwards with a collar around your neck that won't go!"

"Well, I'm going to use warming charms, then," said Ron. He turned his back on Luna who was already down to her undies.

"This can't be right," frowned Harry. "It can't be. It's stupid."

"Don't get left behind, Harry," called Luna, brightly, as she stuffed her bra and knickers into his bag. He tried not to watch as she cast a warming charm upon herself and Susan then she began removing the binding ropes from the unconscious girl.

"This is not happening," muttered Harry, turning his back like Ron had and started to undo his heavy outer coat. He stared sheepishly up and around at the blank cell windows. There was no indication of anyone being present in any of those chambers. He peeled off the thick coat and shivered. Grudgingly, he removed his sweater and shoes then unbuckled his belt...

CRACK! High overhead, where the moon now shone unblinkingly, they heard a sharp report like someone Apparating far away. Luna's eyes were keenest and she pointed upwards. "Look!"

An angelic figure, robed in pure white, little more than a speck to Ron and Harry, was visible far above. Harry, half out of his jeans, stumbled and almost fell. For the first moments of their observation, the heavenly entity seemed poised, suspended. Quickly were they disabused of that notion, however,

"He's descending!" cried Luna.

The form was indeed dropping like a stone. It appeared nothing could prevent it dashing itself into the horrid dust of the courtyard. Harry raised his wand, trying to think of any spell that might still work here.

"Arresto Momentum!" The cry came from well above rooftop height and it was Sirius's voice.

"S'not working!" yelled Ron.

They cringed as the body hurtled into the ground.

"PROTEGO!" screamed Sirius. His mouth was still open when he whumped into the dust and a cloud of the filthy stuff sprang up around him. He lay still.

Luna countered the shield charm and they crouched over the body. Sirius spluttered the ashy mess from his mouth. "Ah, that one seemed to work anyway."

"Sirius, you must be mental, didn't you even know if that spell would work!" cried Ron, as they helped him up.

"Well... I never had much opportunity to test which magic would be effective and which wouldn't during my last visit." He blinked around through powder-clogged eyes at the youngsters with an anxious grin. He glanced upwards. "I suppose, with hindsight, I ought to have cast the shield charm above the wards but I didn't think of it until... the last second." He began dusting himself off and wiped his eyes with the back of his hands.

"Merlin!" he cried. "You didn't need to take off everything, Luna! It's just a tight squeeze is all. A dog can get through gaps that a man cannot but you were all in thick winter clothes."

Ron glared at Luna and quickly put his underpants back on. Harry still hobbling painfully with one leg in his jeans, kicked them off, swearing at his painful foot, then stripped off his shirt. "Socks okay?" he asked, sarcastically. He shivered, then cast a warming charm upon himself. His wand he Spellotaped across his waist; he wasn't trusting it to the bag in case he needed it in a hurry.

Sirius frowned at the ugly bruising on Harry's chest and the bandages too, but said nothing. He turned to assess the others then looked away quickly. "So, that's Susan, I take it? Here, Luna, put my outer robe on her, it's very thin but at least she'll be decent."

"How come it's white?" grumbled Harry, hugging himself despite the warming charm. He wondered whether to put his shirt back on.

"Uuh... makes no difference to Dementors and I reckoned you'd find me better if we got separated. Why in Merlin's name didn't you come during a bright sunny afternoon?"

Sirius flinched suddenly and put a hand to his mouth to stifle a cry. He had noticed the dark shapes gathering in the graveyard beyond the next block of cells. He looked quickly around the yard to get his bearings. "Better hurry. This way."

The farthest corner looked no more promising than any other area but Sirius said, "We dig."

He bent down and began scrabbling with his hands in the grim drift like a dog after a bone.

"What is this awful stuff?" said Harry. "It's everywhere but nowhere so thick as in here. I'm beginning to taste it."

Sirius glanced up briefly. "Scab flakes. The inmates call it rue. It's exuded by the Dementors. Built up in this yard over centuries because there are so many floors above."

"Gross!" cried Ron. "So after they leech off everyone's feelings, this is what they sweat out?"

But Sirius had resumed excavating and did not look up.

"Let me blast it," said Harry, raising his wand.

"Are you sure that will work in here?" said Sirius.

Harry pointed at the twisted window from which they had forcibly entered the courtyard. "So far it only seems motion spells like hovering and flying are blocked inside. Not sure anything works on the outer walls though."

Sirius had stood up and was backing well away. They all did. "Don't hit it too strong then or we'll never get out. Just clear the filth."

Harry steadied himself. He didn't want to be knocked over backwards; it would hurt too much in his present state and wearing nothing but his short pants.

"Bombarda."

A sphere of the choking rue sprayed out from the corner leaving a circular dust crater into which Sirius leapt and began his scrabbling again. Just below the surface he uncovered the round edge of a fractured, gridded cover.

"It's just a drainage pipe," he said, as he tugged the cover away. "It comes out at the southwest corner. You definitely never want to go through the graveyard. You'd never believe how awful that place is." Then he muttered half to himself, "Nobody but a fool would go through there willingly."

Harry exchanged glances with Ron but they didn't say anything.

Sirius examined the powder-clogged drain. "Let's see... I had to dig the whole way before..."

He stood up again. "Aguamenti!"

Sirius hosed the pipe and a thick slurry slopped away down its length.

"It's only about twenty feet. I'd better go first and make sure nothing's about, but come straight after me."

Before their eyes he transformed into a black dog then skilfully worked his forepaws and head into the pipe. He was a big animal but his shoulders were better adapted to forcing into badger holes than a grown man and soon his tail and back paws disappeared too.

"I'd better go last," said Ron, dismally, "in case I get stuck."

"Ron, I'd rather you be stuck in front of me than leave you behind," said Harry.

"You can't push me forward from behind, only my feet, but once you're out then you could crawl back a bit and drag me by my arms."

"Right," Harry turned reluctantly away. "Luna, can you at least put your underwear back on else we'll never even get Ron into the pipe." Luna gave a little giggle and rummaged in Hermione's bag.

Harry peered into the hole. "It's just a gentle slope down." He looked up at Luna. "You're the smallest. If you go first, you can go in backwards and hover Susan behind you the same way, legs first, or pull on her feet or Sirius's long robe if necessary. I'll come down behind Susan with my arms in front and push her shoulders along too, okay?" Luna nodded and went closer to the opening, with Susan floating after her.

"I'm out! Hurry up, all of you" echoed Sirius's voice from the other end of the drain. "Send down your supplies first."

They pushed the bags in and watched them slide away, then Harry helped Luna to retreat into the pipe. She dropped in easily as far her hips then she had to push and squirm a little to continue which she did easily enough. The slippery sludge helped and quickly she had receded until only her arms extended up past her face. Harry wrapped the hem of the long white robe around Susan's feet and fed them into Luna who then began to wriggle her way further down, pulling Susan behind her. Once Susan's hips were successfully past the opening, Harry could see he wouldn't be able to reach her shoulders with the arms extended so he tucked her forearms around her waist where there was the most space. As he did so, something bright and metallic flashed within the parting of Sirius's white robe and Harry felt an added note of anxiety. He knew what it must be but there was no time to deal with Slytherin's locket until they were all safely away.

After Susan's head and shoulders had disappeared into the cavity, Harry turned to Ron. "Okay, Ron? You'll be fine. It's not far. Chuck in a bit more muck and water just before you enter so as to keep it slippy. Once I get to the end I'll turn round and come straight back to help. Remember, arms ahead or I'll have to drag you out by the ears."

Ron nodded but said nothing. Harry could tell he was doubtful.

When Harry pushed his arms and head into the pipe, Susan had already receded half a body length and only the top of her hair was visible.

"Hold on, Luna, she's face down! Can she breath okay?"

There was a muffled reply. Harry stretched forward and tilted Susan's face to one side. "Seems alright. Go ahead."

Luna appeared to be making steady progress although the body hovering charm wasn't really helping here; the main task was overcoming the friction of two bodies. He squirmed after them, partly gripping the pipe with his forearms, and pushing with his knees and feet once they were inside. His socks kept skidding and he wished now he'd taken them off.

He took a deep breath and it was only then that he considered his own situation: how tight and confined his chest and shoulders were when inhaling. As he kicked himself down deeper, his hip bones felt unpleasantly constricted too. Perhaps the slurry was drying out. He had a silly picture in his head of it setting like concrete, gluing them all in place. The more he tried not to think about it, the more he did. As he wriggled after Susan, it seemed as if the iron tube was closing in on him. He was a piston in a cylinder. Air felt in short supply and he found himself gasping. Panic was taking over and he could not shake free of it. His instinct was to break out immediately but that was impossible. He cried out as Ron's hand touched his foot unexpectedly.

"You alright, Harry?"

"Y-yeah..." panted Harry. Red-faced, he was perspiring heavily, yet the pipe was as cold as the weather outside. He tried to pull himself forward, keeping his eyes on the top of Susan's receding head, anxious to get out, but the feeling of being gripped and squeezed almost paralysed him. His squirms only seemed to wedge him tighter. He told himself he was imagining it.

"You really alright?" said Ron.

"Yeah, yeah. You?" Harry tried to crane his neck around but there was no room to see backwards past his own body.

"Just about, only inching slowly along though. You sure you're...?"

Icy sweat tricked down Harry's forehead. He dare not panic Ron as well. "It's okay, I'm making headway and I'm safe, honest," he lied.

"You won't be, Harry Potter," hissed a high, cold voice ahead of him.

Harry's eyes flicked forward again. Pushing upon him was a glaring, satanic mask of evil that Harry, helplessly trapped, could do nothing about. Reflexes took over. He lost control.

"Uh... uugh... no... noooo... d-don't..."

The eyes were scarlet with a venomous hatred, the jaw was wide, the teeth sank once again into his childishly flailing hands that had no room to swing, no leverage, no power... He was a baby once more in his cot. The large bulk of Uncle Vernon, angry at being awoken by his cries, was frightening him and he called and called for his mother... but she did not come.

The pain increased as Susan's teeth bit more deeply. "Aaagh!" The pressure of the molars grinding into his old injury was unbearable and the dressing was quickly soaked in fresh blood but he could not wrest free. He was aware of several voice yelling at once: Sirius shouting to them to hurry, Ron questioning, but only one gave him any hope:

"Stupefy!" It was Luna.

The red eyes that had so terrified him glazed over and closed. The mouth, still clamped over his wound, was now limp and impotent. Harry carefully freed his hand from Susan's mouth and watched the face, now relaxed into normality, sliding away ahead of him. Though her features were gaunt through sparsity of good food, they were no longer contorted by wicked intent. Perhaps it was the contrast, but Harry experienced an odd sensation that she might have been quite pretty once and he had never noticed. Would she ever be again?

"What happened?" Ron was still shouting.

Harry could barely speak. "S-stunning s-spell wore off. B-bit me again."

"Bummer."

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~~~ Escape From Azkaban ~~~

Progress through the drainage pipe had only taken a few minutes, but when Harry clambered out at the far end, the cold air on his naked body was deliciously open and freeing. That did not last long though. His skin quickly chilled and he began to shiver, but it was not the warming charm that had failed — he was closer to the Dementors' influence. Luna was already dressed and hovering Susan, while all around her were several hare Patronuses. She must have worked fast, Harry realised.

"They're coming from the graveyard!" she cried. "Sirius is distracting them! Hurry!"

"HE'S WHAT!" shouted Harry. He took one look ahead. Something was tugging him towards the sea on his left, but he had no time to consider it. They were on a stretch of black cliff outside the western edge of the burial grounds and the wind and rain were no longer appeased by the magic of Azkaban. He couldn't make out where Sirius was but he could feel the influence of the Dementors and that was more pressing than anything else.

"Expecto Patronum!" he yelled, and his stag took up its guard stance.

He took one stride forward, then, remembering his promise, he spun around and dove his head back into the drain. Ron had made good progress but was winded by the exertion. His shoulders were heaving as he struggled to breath.

"S-something's wrong, H-Harry!" Ron gasped.

"Hang on, mate, I'll get you out."

Harry had to push in only a little way to grasp Ron's wrists.

"No... m-my ... amulet ... again," Ron panted. Between Ron's outstretched arms, Harry glimpsed the anguish in his friend's face. "th-think..." Ron continued, his voice choking up, "think it's Hermione."

Harry realised then that was the pull he'd also felt himself. Urgency gave him sudden strength. He heaved Ron towards him twice, and very quickly the two of them were tumbling out of the pipe.

Luna already had their broomsticks out of the bags and was astride hers with Susan half-hovering across her lap.

"You three go!" yelled Harry, moving forward to join her. "I'm going to get Sirius!"

Luna pointed. There was no smile. Through the tall metal fence and across the field of the dead stood his godfather, forked on three sides by a black vee of Dementors. He was backing away from them but his Patronus was weak and formless.

"SIRIUS!" yelled Harry.

Sirius looked wildly over his shoulder, screamed one last word, "GO!" then he was overwhelmed. One Dementor parted its hood and leaned down to Sirius's horrified face.

"NOOO!" yelled Harry. He hammered on the railings with his good hand but he knew deep down he would be unable to help. Into a furrow, his godfather's impotent and empty body fell — alongside those blessed by true death. Dementors cursorily pushed a little of the deathly soil over the still-living remains then turned to look in Harry's direction...

Distantly, he sensed Ron dragging him away, spilling him over his Firebolt, shouting things at him that Harry could not comprehend. Then they were dropping. He had no sense of purpose or meaning or direction. Three broomsticks. Four people clinging together. The great maw of the sea coming up as if to swallow them.

"HARRY! HARRY! HARRY! YOU'VE GOT TO DO YOUR THING! AND I MEAN RIGHT NOW!" Ron was yelling so closely into his ear that it hurt.

The hatch of Glissando was opened. He was being forced down through it. Susan was already slumped inside and he instinctively moved his foot before it hit her. That reflex woke him to act again — that and Hermione's bag falling on his head and the sound of Ron screeching the hatch cover shut. The awful racket of wind, sea, and shouting, reduced immediately to a muffled rumble. When Luna's hover charm lowered the submersible close to the crashing surf he knew he had to move; he could not keep her waiting to release him.

He pointed ahead, cried, "Impello!" then tapped five times on Glissando's control panel.

Spray was flung high around the mini-sub as it crashed brutally through Azkaban's foaming billows, then Glissando was free, but Harry had to know if his friends were safe too. He twisted himself about, grateful for the bubble sphere's all-round view. Ron and Luna were speeding up to catch him in Bulrush, their white faces riven with worry. They exchanged tense waves to each other, Luna managed a weak thumbs-up, then they were gone on their own heading, and Harry had to prepare his own.

Once the Sat Nav was turned on he immediately found that Marinda was off-station — not by much, but it troubled Harry. He felt his amulet. It had been pulling all this time. Not just for Hermione but Neville too, and... Ginny. Had he time to join them before setting his own course? Was it sensing danger for them right now — or in the near future? There was Bulrush on the display. Ron and Luna had clearly detected Marinda's new position and the line of their bearing cut right to it. What could he do that they couldn't? He glanced at the body pressed against his. Susan might have been asleep if he didn't know better. He remembered then his vow to help the girl. Stick to the plan, Harry, he said to himself.

He wavered only a few moments more, then an increasing fear descended upon him from above and he set his course, taking Glissando south, away from that accursed fortress prison.

Harry opened Hermione's bag and rummaged under the clothing for his seabed charts, but he knew this first part by heart. The steep island's surroundings were already cleared; the floor of the North Sea had fallen away to over three hundred feet below; he wished it could be more. He pointed his wand to slope Glissando much more steeply forward, made the incantation again, and tapped five times. Down, down swam the submersible, deeper and deeper than he'd yet gone below the surface.

Yet fear intensified, coming from above. He clamped his eyes shut and visualised Ginny squeezing him tight, her mouth pressed to his...

"Expecto Patronum!"

The stag blazed out into the water around the mini-sub, taking a defensive position to keep the Dementors as far away as it could. Another he cast to follow the first. Then a third. It would not be enough. Something was sucking more than air from his surroundings. An intense cold terror swept over him. It went deeper than his skin. It was inside his chest, it was inside his very heart. One of the new Patronuses was already fading...

He knew then that the Dementors must be right above him. Glissando, although descending rapidly, had not yet attained two hundred feet and even three might not be enough with them directly overhead. If he did nothing, he and Susan could not survive.

He looked wildly about. The Sat Nav showed Marinda further from her correct position, and Bulrush was struggling to reach it.

At that moment, an explosion of gold and red gave him new inspiration. Neville's lion leaping through the dark water! The courageous Gryffindor had accomplished a message Patronus! But immediately its blaze and his voice were failing...—

"Moved... being overwhelmed. Do not come ... us, Luna! ... are lost... trapped in... all is... lost."

The lion had collapsed into a formless, fading glimmer even before the words had ended, and Harry's last hopes died with it. Neville must have assumed Luna was still with him. She and Ron would never hear the warning but instead, continue to the Marinda and share her fate ... the same awful finish that he himself now accepted as inevitable. He laid back, preparing for the end.

The amulet, still pulling, shifted to a new direction then, as if it had abandoned his friends as a lost cause, and pulled for him instead. The sensation was quite clear: he must look at the strange pendant. The metal was wet and shining from his soaking. The smiley, which before had always seemed merely a decorative afterthought, was now seen to be only one part of a fainter, fragmented circle to which he had paid no attention before. As he stared, his tired mind began to see it as an extensive ring of black water. It seemed so familiar yet its significance eluded him. He was sinking into this curious pool and it was leeching all willpower and happiness from him. He thought he heard someone — a woman's voice — calling from under these dark waters...

"Not Harry, not Harry, please not Harry!"

"Stand aside, you silly girl... stand aside, now..."

"Not Harry, please no, take me, kill me instead— "

A shrill voice was laughing, and the woman was screaming. Numbing, bitterly cold, suffocating liquid was filling Harry's brain. Nothing made sense. As the immense circle overwhelmed him, he finally recognised it as the black lake of Hogwarts during the second task of the Triwizard Tournament. Above him, Ron was spraying at an insane speed across the surface to rescue Hermione from Viktor Krum, and Harry knew that he must find a way to awaken from this surreal nightmare — to take one more risk. As the bitter waters of defeat finally choked his lungs, a sense of peace enveloped him. A luminous figure was beckoning him heavenwards — it was his pure-robed angelic godfather. Harry reached out to take the proffered hand, forcing himself to swim up, up from his despair...

When his consciousness surfaced he was still in the mini-sub and for a moment thought that Sirius was truly embracing him, but it was the white-gowned Susan that had fallen across Harry. The chilling fear was still there, pressing down from above, eating away at the last slender idea that had occurred to him in the amulet vision...

Harry dragged both sleeping bags across the control panel to cushion himself and pressed his back against them. Susan, he hugged onto himself, as closely as he could, to protect her from what he was about to attempt. He remembered Hermione's admonition then, from when he had been in the tin tub: "NEVER, EVER, use Impello on its own! You'll dash your brains out!"

He grimaced, braced his feet against the foot of the back wall opposite, and pushed his wand under his arm to point forward along Glissando's path, but he knew that this time he must not tap the submersible.

"IMPELLO!"

The back of his head thumped heavily against the front of the acrylic sphere and he felt his face twisted sideways with an immense force. The water was cold-boiling against the front of the transparent sphere. A tremendous shuddering metallic groan passed through the craft as if it were being twisted apart. Susan had been plucked away and was pinned across his feet and the back of the tiny cabin. Harry's vision greyed-out. In a half-conscious daze he knew he was being slowly crushed, as though the full weight of the mini-sub was pressing against his spine. If he could survive the pain he was sure he would have succeeded in his plan: his own body was pushing the Glissando forward at a colossal rate.

Then the enchantment was spent, the weight lifted from his back, and he sagged down, hurting all over. Blood dripped slowly from his head bandage and his hand. Susan slumped forward upon him again. He struggled to see the Sat Nav. He had rocketed almost two nautical miles in little more than a minute as best he could judge.

Despite his physical suffering, he felt immediately the relief of having left the Dementors far behind — at least for a while — beyond their senses and their cruel effects. But Glissando, now free of control, was slowly pitching and rolling over. So, although he desperately wanted to rest for a few minutes, he had to restore stability and reset his course quickly.

Bones and muscle ached as he raised himself and cast the move spell upon the craft once more. Five times he tapped, and Glissando was back on a level course for home at a depth of almost three-hundred feet.

But Marinda had not moved much from her last position and Bulrush was gone. Did that mean Luna and Ron were safely aboard the tugboat and had switched off their Sat Nav? Or had their boat foundered under an assault from the creatures of Azkaban? All he could think of was Ginny's terror before the Dementors — and Neville's final message: overwhelmed ... trapped ... all is lost...

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—oOo—

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Author's Notes

I think you can see why I couldn't split the above 15000 word chapter. Ideally, I wanted to keep going but the next chapter is already over 8,000 words so I couldn't realistically merge it onto this one as it would be way out of proportion of the other chapters, some of which are only about 3000.

I wish to credit J K Rowling with a few of the lines which are brief, fair use, direct or modified quotes from Half Blood Prince (because I felt they were irreplaceable and the situation unavoidable) to preserve canon as closely as possible unless changed as a consequence of Chary's character.

Many thanks for all comments and reviews. These are most welcome and very encouraging. :)

- Hippothestrowl

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