Chapter Six
Harry woke slowly, testing his various body parts to see that they were all there and very functional; he hadn't been hurt in any way. He opened his eyes just as slowly, blinking at the weird blurriness until he realized that his glasses were gone. He was lying in a bed, very thick and comfy blankets thrown here and there, tangling up his legs and arms. Harry struggled a moment but managed to kick the thick blankets off and started to stand.
The room was completely dark so it wouldn't have mattered whether he had he glasses. As he stood, Harry felt his left arm get jerked back, tied to the bed post by some soft rope, something like silk. "What?" he murmured, trying to untie the knot but it remained stuck fast. Harry sat back onto the bed, taking on the task of freeing himself.
It soon became apparent that the knot was too tight to untie or else it was magical; Harry laid back onto the bed with a sigh. His mind began to wander, thinking back on to how he got to this situation.
Romania, if that was her, had shut him up in a room with a robed Death Eater. The Death Eater must have knocked him unconscious because Harry couldn't remember what happened next. Between the time he was knocked out and he woke up was a dark stain on his memory.
It wasn't much longer before some light shuffling attracted Harry's attention. In the dark silence, ever noise seemed to be magnified a hundred fold. "H-hello? Is someone there?"
A startled squeak made the hair on the back of his neck rise. "Hey! Who are you? Where am I?"
"You-you is in the Master's house," a high-pitched voice answered, trembling slightly. Harry drew back with a gasp as a tiny flame started glowing, illuminating a small house elf's face. In the light, she looked positively dreadfully, so much so that Harry threw himself back, slamming against the bed's headboard. Immediately, the light went out.
"I-I is sorry," the house elf cried and Harry could hear her slapping herself. "I just thinking Harry Potter was light. Bad Missy, bad, bad-"
"No, wait. You just startled me. You didn't do anything bad, Missy," Harry's voice was pleading and the elf stopped hitting herself. She sniffed loudly in the dark, the sound slightly muffled from where she had fallen under the blankets.
"Harry Potter not mad?"
"No!" Harry replied passionately. He leaned over the bed, trying to locate the small elf in the dark.
She sniffed again. "Harry Potter want light?"
"Yes, if you can." The blankets rustled as the elf crawled from beneath them. "Just don't hold them so close to your face, alright?"
Missy tentatively lit another fire, holding it far from her face so it didn't cast such evil shadows on her. Harry squinted, trying to see her clearly when she flicked a hand and returned his missing glasses, cleaned and intact. "Uh, thanks."
"Master says Missy need to help Harry Potter," Missy replied proudly, wiping at the tear stains on her face. The blue fire she lit started floating in the air, growing brighter to that the room came into sight. It was empty but for the dark ebony bed Harry was tied to. "Missy Master's best house elf. Missy says it is an honor to help Harry Potter. Missy do what Master says."
"Oh really?" Harry asked, an idea forming in his mind. Missy nodded enthusiastically. "Well, could you untie me?"
Missy frowned. "Master says Missy do everything Harry Potter want… but," and Harry's heart plummeted, "Master says Missy not do everything. Missy can't do some things." She moaned and clutched her head. "Missy is confused."
"So you can't untie me?" Missy shook her head, still moaning. "I guess you can't go and tell someone I'm here, can't take a message for me, can you?"
"Master says Missy can't talk to anyone, no. Can't leave Harry Potter alone, no, no. Can't let Harry Potter go." She fidgeted under Harry gaze, picking at her clothes: an old bed cloth tied around her, toga-style.
"Do you have to watch men when I'm asleep, too?" When Missy shook her head, Harry felt a bit of hope re-lit itself within him.
"No, Missy must punish herself for not doing Missy's job when Harry Potter sleeping. Master makes Missy watch Harry Potter but Missy has many much to do sir. Master say Missy work hard when Harry Potter sleeping, do much work and Missy can't sleep-"
"Who is your master?" Harry interrupted suddenly, the question making him feel sick. He was in a Death Eater's house, to be sure, but it certainly couldn't be-
"Why, Missy's Master is the best Master. Missy is very grateful, yes she is. Missy knows Dobby is a bad house elf, leaving Master. Missy hears Dobby getting paid, he is an evil house elf, leaving Master and-"
"Lucius Malfoy?" Harry groaned. "I can't believe this. I'm stuck in the Malfoy house."
"Harry Potter is in the Malfoy Mansion," Missy agreed with a nod.
Harry let a minute of self-pity go by before going back to his escape plan. "So you can't deliver a message to other wizards?" She shook her head. "How about another house elf?"
Missy thought about this and nodded. "Missy can go talk to house elf. Missy talk many much times to other house elves."
"Can you go to Hogwarts and deliver a message to Dobby?" Harry asked excitedly.
Missy sniffed. "Missy no want to talk to Dobby. Dobby is a bad elf. He leaves Master and-"
"Please? I need you to do this." The words sealed the deal and Missy, after a moment's hesitation, nodded her agreement. "Great! You can go right now-"
"Missy can't leave Harry Potter alone. Master says no. Missy can't leave Master's house until Friday," Missy protested, backing away.
"And today's Monday." Harry groaned and flung himself back onto the bed. "I guess I can survive a week, it's not too long."
"A week can be very long, Mister Potter, if you know how to make it so," a dry, raspy voice sounded from a corner of the room. Missy gave a squeak and disappeared, her small fire going with her. It wasn't until Voldemort summoned a lit torch, the shadows treating his ghastly face as bad as they did Missy, that Harry believed the wizard was actually standing there. The pain he'd associated with Voldemort must have vanished along with the wizard's rebirth, as Voldemort passed Lily's protections, because Harry didn't feel even the slightest twinge from his scar.
"Voldemort," Harry hissed. The Dark Lord looked down with an emotionless glare, as if Harry was too beneath him for such displays. Behind him, dark robed wizards flushed in, pointing their wands at Harry like they really expected him to suddenly gain enough strength to attack their leader.
"Potter, we meet again. I apologize for the dishonorable way with which my servants stole you out of your school, but I did say 'by any means necessary.'" Harry scowled darkly, glaring at the ground in an attempt to keep from looking into Voldemort's eyes. Voldemort let a moment pass in silence, wearing away at Harry's defenses until the boy was shivering in fear. He leaned over and, with a long, pale finger, tilted Harry's chin up until the bright green eyes stared into his own. "You do know that all resistance is futile?"
"And how would I know that?" Harry snarled in reply, straining against his bonds, trying to fight against the insane terror waiting to throw him into a panic. Being near the wizard, whose powers were now fully recharged, was like staring into pure blackness, hearing the noise of creatures coming to get you, and being frozen stiff.
Voldemort seemed to shrug. "If you really thought about it, I'm sure you could come up with the answer by yourself. But," and his dark eyes seemed to glint with hate, "I'd prefer it if I was here the moment you realized the truth, just to see that last bit of spirit within you broken. You've destroyed me, boy. Destroyed plans, countless plans that took centuries to think up and to execute. You have single-handily destroyed the most powerful of all the dark wizards. Do you know what that means?"
Wordlessly, Harry shook his head, a defiant frown sticking grimly to his face, forehead covered in a sleek sheet of sweat.
The corners of Voldemort's lips drew up in a grinning, skull-like showing of sharpened teeth. "It means you have the potential—have already shown the potential—to be the greatest Dark Lord in history."
"What makes you think I'd go that way?" Harry snorted. "Why would I join up with you, when you killed my parents?"
"What makes you think I killed you parents, young Potter?" Voldemort countered smoothly. At Harry's blatant look of disbelief, Voldemort pulled out his wand and waved his hand around a few times, watching the smooth motions with an appreciative eye. "It is true that this wand did perform the killing curse on your parents, but that in itself proves nothing. My wand has been used by many of my followers, a special privilege."
"Wormtail, step forward," Voldemort commanded. Harry glared at the mousy man, feeling that endless anger against him against the man who betrayed his parents and who caused so many people so much pain. Sirius wouldn't be so tormented if Wormtail hadn't turned against his best friends; Voldemort wouldn't have risen again if Wormtail hadn't done all he had. Vaguely, Harry wondered if he hated Wormtail.
Wormtail was sweating, looking extremely pathetic and frightened. Harry felt absolutely no pity for the man.
"Now, tell Harry who used this wand to kill his parents," Voldemort was saying as calmly as though he'd asked Wormtail the time.
"What?" Harry's whispered question went ignored as Wormtail started shuddering.
Voldemort looked annoyed. "Verith," he muttered. A coil of black turned from his wand, encircling his target by the neck. Wormtail choked, bringing his hands to his throat and falling to his knees. "Now, Wormtail, tell the boy."
Wormtail's mouth moved soundlessly, his fellow Death Eaters watching him carelessly until his finally choked out, "M-me, mast-"
Voldemort kicked Wormtail squarely in the gut, sending the robed man flying across the room. Then he turned his blood red eyes to Harry and stated, "A simple truth spell. Not as effective as the potion, I admit, especially since extended use of the spell causes excessive damage to both the brain and body. But it accomplishes its use."
Harry stared in horror, soft choking sounds coming from his throat as Wormtail's body shuddered again. Two Death Eaters moved forward at Voldemort's wave, lifting the unconscious body and gracelessly carrying it out of the room. Harry paled at the sticky mess left behind, already stinking up the room. He whimpered and tried to move away from the dark robed wizards, pressing himself up against the bed's frame. The dozens of nightmares that had haunted his sleep for years on end had him shaking in fear, Cedric's death having shattered Harry's bravery and the presence of Voldemort doing him no good.
'I'm only fifteen,' the thought repeated over and over in his mind. 'I don't need this. I don't want this. I just want to go home, go back to school. I wish Sirius was here.'
Voldemort waved his hand dismissively and three Death Eaters advanced on Harry. As one, they raised their wands and their voices rumbled: "Crucio!"
"If you were to die this moment, Potter, who would mourn you?" Harry could hardly hear Voldemort's softly voiced words over the sound of his own screams. "The entire wizarding world, of course. But that wouldn't be the true mourning, only the mourning of a fallen icon, a fallen hero too far gone in legends to be truly seen as another human. They would mourn you as one who is respected, feared, awed, and left totally alone." He motioned for the Death Eaters to back down.
Harry didn't reply to this but a bitter taste filled his mouth, as bitter as the rusty blood flowing from his pierced lip.
Voldemort waved a hand, conjuring up a strict chair to sit in and then he stared, blood-red eyes boring into Harry. "I once told you how similar we are. You agree? Orphans both. I told you before, my 'family' history. Shall we now look at yours?"
Harry shivered but still said nothing.
"A mother and father, dead from fighting too hard. Your father was a powerful, powerful wizard, I admit. I told him many times, offering him positions as my right hand, as my equal. He refused of course. Being powerful is not the same as being intelligent. Your mother, mudblood she was, also had enough magic behind her to be a worthy opponent. But not smart enough to accept me, thought I offered her revenge against a sister that tortured her, a world that she was sent to each summer. They were too good for their own good."
Biting his tongue, Harry winced.
"I suppose you know that she didn't have to die, but she did, preferring death with her husband than life with her son-"
"Liar!" Harry hissed, finally being drawn into the conversation. "You would've killed me."
"Is that what you think?" the Dark Lord asked. "It may have become my goal sometime during the fourteen years spent as something less than a ghost but I had no intention of killing you as a child. Claiming you, yes." His eyes flashed with anger. "But your mother killed herself trying to protect you. Foolish woman." Harry swallowed his tongue but started to scream again as the Death Eaters racked his body with pain again. Voldemort let a minute pass before calling them off, leaving Harry off-balanced and vulnerable.
"After their death, you are sent by that fool Dumbledore to a house of muggles who have nothing better to do than beat you. At the same time, your legal guardian is sent to Azkaban to suffer thirteen years of misery for a crime he did not commit. The werewolf nearly commits suicide before selling everything he owns, disowning his family and the inheritance that comes with it, and sets out to become a vagabond. The once fearsome four of Hogwarts, the Marauders, have fallen apart by death and betrayal.
"The next ten years of your life are spent hidden under a cupboard, feed little or no food, and periodically abused in an attempt to beat any magic out of you. Several times, your magic protects you: growing your hair back, shrinking clothes, freeing snakes. Then you get to Hogwarts, new to magic and the world within it, and you still manage to defeat me, two years in a row. Your third year, you free my servant to revive me and the next year, you live long enough to run from me. Before you even turn fifteen, you have managed to do what thousands of wizards and witches many times your age have never been able to do; defeat a dark wizard."
"You will make a powerful ally to whichever side you chose," Voldemort paused then added cruelly, "If you survive to fight in the battle."
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"All students, report to their common rooms now! Any student caught wandering the halls will not only be assigned detention, but will lose their house fifty points." McGonagall paused to let this statement sink into the confused students' heads. "I will tolerate no horse-playing tonight, Weasleys, so do not tempt me." The twins opened their mouths to protest but McGonagall was already moving on to announce the message to the other classes. Her words were repeated a moment later as cheerful ghosts, happy to be given some task, floated through the air and walls, saying the same message almost word for word.
Dumbly, the Gryffindor sixth-years left their DADA class (leaving behind a suspicious-looking Croaker and the invoking charms he'd been teaching) and making their way to the Gryffindor tower. Halfway there, the Gryffindors met up with their youngers, all looking just as confused as they felt.
"I'm guessing none of you know what's going on?" Alicia muttered sarcastically as Fred gave the Fat Lady her password.
Dean shook his head. "But I'll give you three guesses on who it's about."
"Harry," the Gryffindors said as one then sighed.
"What happened?" Lee asked, and everyone looked to Hermione and Ron.
Ron raked his red hair with a puzzled look. "We have no idea. You know how he's gotten since…" Someone coughed in the uncomfortable silence and Ron shook his head. "Since you know. He wouldn't have anyone near him, wouldn't say a word. It was bloody hard enough just trying to get him to eat with the rest of us. He got to be a worse book worm than Hermione." Hermione nodded with a slight blush. "I'd swear it had something to do with, with Snuffles, but with what happened two days ago… who knows?"
"Who's Snuffles?" Parvati asked, settling into a chair before the common room's fire.
"His dog," Hermione answered quickly. "His aunt and uncle lost it and it got picked up by the pound. And you know how those muggles are; they told Harry to just leave it alone until they picked it up themselves."
"Oh." Lavender waited for something more but Hermione's tone was final. She shrugged. "Well, I can't just wait here for Harry to finish whatever he's doing; if anyone wants me, I'll be upstairs, consulting the stars." Her voice was so dreamy that several second years followed her up the stairs, fully believing in her ability to 'consult' the stars. Parvati joined her as well, and the other Gryffindors wandered off as the remaining fifth years fell into a moody silence. The Quidditch team's sixth years stayed behind as well, off in the corner discussing some strategy or other.
"You know, I agree with Lavender," Neville, of all people, broke the silence. He stared into the fire, not looking to either side. "Harry's always getting into trouble and we just let him. Well, not you two," he admitted quickly, glancing from the fire to look at Hermione and Ron, "but I haven't really helped Harry at all, not since our first year."
"Neville-"
"I'm not using that as an excuse," Neville interrupted Ron. "But, the thing is, if I'm going to help you, I don't want any secrets between us." Ron and Hermione paled, both thinking Neville has somehow found something out about Sirius. "So I better tell you…"
"Tell us what?" Hermione pressed gently, silently letting out a sigh of relief. The secret was still safe.
Neville stiffened, tiny goosebumps appearing on his arms. He glanced around. "Only if you promise not to tell anyone. All of you."
"Of course," Dean agreed hurriedly, Seamus nodding as well.
"You all know that, that I live with Gran, but you don't know why. Well," he gulped fearfully, losing the small glimmer of courage he thought he had, "it-it's because…b-because…"
"Neville?" Hermione stood up, a concerned look on her face. "Neville? Shake out of it!"
"It's-because-my-mum-and-dad-are-at-St.-Mungo's." Neville took a deep, shuddering breath, leaving the others to ponder his words. He'd spoken in such a fast breath that it took even Hermione a moment to sort out the syllables.
She gasped. "Neville! Oh, Neville! Are you alright? Oh, you must feel awful. Why didn't you tell us? This must have been killing you inside-"
"What's that now?" Ron's face was screwed up in concentration. "Something wrong?"
"'Course, you git. Neville just told us his parents are over at Mungo's." Fred cuffed his brother lightly. When he saw Neville's horrified expression, Fred raised his hands in defense. "We overheard you and, don't worry, we're not telling no one if you don't want us to."
"W-we?" Neville paled as George, Angelina, Alicia, Katie, and Lee all tumbled into the small fifth-year circle, all wearing identical sorrowful expressions.
"I'm so sorry, Neville," Alicia sniffed with tears in her eyes. "I never even thought about why you didn't live with your parents."
"We didn't think at all," Katie echoed hollowly.
Neville tried to smile and ended up with a forced grin that didn't do anything to hide the pain in his eyes. "Y-you know, I thought it wouldn't bother me so much, since they've been gone for so long. But," his voice cracked and the three Chasers plus Hermione embraced him in a warm hug as the tears fell.
"What a week," Lee exhaled, exhaustion playing into his voice. He pulled over a chair and slumped into it, pulling Katie into his lap. "When I heard that Black was finally caught, I thought that all that stuff, like those attacks that had been going on, would stop and nothing would happen this year. But noooo."
Fred and George exchanged guilty looks and finally Hermione stood up, throwing her hands in the air. "Fine, you two. We'll tell them!"
"Tell us what?" Seamus straightened his back suddenly. "You guys don't know where Harry is, do you? Keeping it a secret, making us worry and confess our secrets. Bloody good friends you two are-"
"We don't know where Harry is," Ron shouted. The teens looked at him with concerned expressions and he blushed to the roots. "We just might know what he's been up to."
"Up to?" Fred asked.
"Up to." Hermione frowned at everyone's grins. "Come on, this is serious. Now, what we're about to tell you is secret, just like what Neville said--except maybe more. No offense, Neville, but it's true." Neville nodded, wiping away his tears. "You've got to understand that what we're saying is true, no matter what else you heard or you'll hear. If you're surprised, just think how shocked Harry was when he found out. I mean-"
"Sirius Black is innocent, Harry found out in his third year, and ever since then, they've been keeping in touch." Ron rolled his eyes at the blank expressions on his fellow Gryffindor's faces. "Oh come on, it's not that hard to believe-"
"Ron!" Hermione looked deflated.
Ron could only shrug. "Sorry, Hermione, but we were getting tired of listening to you build up the suspense."
"You do realize," Alicia started with a slow, soft voice, "that we're not going to rest until we've heard the whole story."
"This'll be good," Fred laughed, elbowing George in the gut. "We don't even know everything."
"You knew!" Angelina screeched. "And you didn't tell us! You're fellow Quidditch players?" She playfully slammed a pillow against George.
The twins lifted their arms as a mini-pillow fight broke out. "Hey! Hey! Harry didn't tell us, why should we have told you?"
"If this keeps up much longer, Harry will come back by himself, telling us how he defeated You-Know-Who," Lee joked. When Ron and Hermione shared a look, he said, "Come on, I'm just joking."
"What did you guys hear about our first year?" Hermione asked. "When we left and then came back? Dumbledore said that everyone knew, but he didn't say exactly what they knew."
"First year?" Dean scratched his head. "Isn't that the year when some bloke broke into the school and tried to steal something or other from the third floor?" Hermione nodded. "I heard that you guys saw the thief and stopped him by using whatever you did to defeat that troll in the bathroom. How'd you do that, anyhow?"
"That's not important," Hermione shoved on with a shudder. "Is that what you all heard?" They all nodded.
"More or less," Katie commented. "Nothing too spectacular, which is why we were all wondering why you got so many points. We finally figured it was because you got past that dog without getting your head chopped off."
"You knew about Fluffy?"
Fred scoffed at Ron's question. "Everyone knew about Fluffy. When Dumbledore said the floor was off-limits, everyone got up there to see why. Anyone who knew the unlocking charm got into the dog's room sooner or later."
"Alright, you guys know some of the story, but it's too long so we'll just give you a watered down version." Ron took a deep breath. "At the beginning of the year, Harry overheard Snape threatening Quirrel about something. We got all suspicious and kept our ears open and soon found out that there was something going on involving a guy named Flamel, something called a Sorcerer's Stone, and the dead unicorns in the forest.
"It turns out that Flamel created the Sorcerer's Stone which gives unlimited gold and immortality to whoever owns it, and that the blood of a unicorn can give life to someone no matter how close to dying they are. You can imagine who's name was immediately brought to mind when we heard that bit of information. Up until the end of the year, we thought Snape was going to try and steal the Sorcerer's Stone to give to You-Know-Who. Harry had been with Hagrid when he got the stone to put in Hogwarts and since Hermione figured that Dumbledore was using Fluffy to guard something, we found out where the stone was.
"Right at the end of the year, Dumbledore got called away and it was like we knew that Snape was going to go for it. When we got to Fluffy's room, someone had already put it to sleep. There was a ton of other stuff guarding the stone, like plants, a giant chess game, and a potion riddle. I lasted up to the chess game, won it in fact, and Hermione solved the riddle but everything was set so that only Harry got to the end. I'd sacrificed myself in chess to win, so I was unconscious until Dumbledore came in and got me out of there. Hermione had come back to get me."
"I had to, really," Hermione explained with a self-righteous tone, mistaking the disbelief on their faces. "There was only enough of the potion for one person and someone had to go back and make sure Ron hadn't died. So anyway, Harry went up, prepared to fight Snape to the death, when he met up with none other than-"
"Quirrel!" Ron chirped happily. "See, the bugger was really working for You-Know-Who, and Snape had been trying to get him to confess. Harry fought him and Dumbledore got there in the end to save the day, end of year one."
Hermione went on to relate the next year's events, adding how the boys' had happily excluded her from going into the Chamber but Ron countered saying that she'd been too busy being petrified, at which point Hermione blushed and muttered how she'd forgotten about that. Ron reminded them that he hadn't been there for everything and was only telling them what he'd heard from Harry.
The next year was watered down and spoon-fed to the astonished teens as well, everything up to how Sirius looked like a dirty rascal who needed a bath more than he needed to be shot. Fourth year, Hermione reminded them gravely, they already knew about.
"He's always facing this stuff alone, see," Ron observed, realizing how great it felt to finally tell someone else about everything that had gone on. "Even if we start out with him, something or other knocks us out of the way. Makes a guy feel unwanted, if you know what I mean."
"So let's get this straight." Alicia took a deep breath and let it out almost angrily. "We got ourselves a resident superhero who's all but conquered You-Know-Who three times, and no one else knows about it?!"
"Harry didn't want anyone else to know," Hermione pointed out. "He doesn't like being famous, or getting pointed at when he walks by. The first ten years of his life, he was totally ignored and now he's the center of attention whenever he walks into a room. It's totally against everything he'd known."
"Well, this is a night I'll never forget," Katie stuck her head under Lee's chin, curling up on his lap. "I think he's great enough, playing Quidditch like he does. Never mind all that other stuff."
"Here, here," Fred agreed solemnly.
"Alright, so with everything going on--and everything that's happened--what do you think Harry's doing right now?"
"Harry's reasonably safe, as long as he's in Hogwarts," Angelina started, answering Dean's question. "So I don't think he's in any immediate danger. I haven't seen anyone wearing dark robes and sending off the Dark Mark anywhere, so Death Eaters are out of the question-"
Neville gave a little squeak. "Oh no!" he moaned. "I just remembered: when I was on the train, I heard Malfoy saying how his father was coming to Hogwarts. Someone asked if Malfoy had to go home and he sort of laughed and said that he wasn't the one going home. I didn't get to hear more because that's when they saw me." He looked miserable. "I didn't even think about it until now."
"Malfoy's dad is at Hogwarts?" Lee demanded, as serious as he'd ever been. Neville nodded and everyone went tense. "Well, scratch the idea of Harry being safe."
"But he'll think he's safe," Hermione pointed out with a tremor of fear. "He won't be ready to defend himself if something happens-"
"Something already happened, Hermione," Ron interrupted, his tone dangerous. He stood up. "I'm going to find Malfoy. You guys go tell Dumbledore what we figured out."
"If you get caught, you'll get in a lot of trouble," Neville shook his head. "You're not going-"
Ron ignored him, already storming out the door. Hermione sighed and muttered, "Reason is lost on that boy," before rushing after him. "I've got to go with him. If we get stopped, I'll just say we're looking for McGonagall because some second year is missing. We're Prefects, anyway. And Ron's a Head Boy. That'll give us some protection."
As the portrait swung shut behind them, a silence fell on the remaining Gryffindors, unwitting members of the newest fellowship against Voldemort. George broke the silence with his low murmur: "Why do I feel like I've just agreed to a fight a didn't know was going on?"
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Sirius sneezed, bringing up a dirty sleeve to wipe his nose. He stared at it, disgusted, and hollered, "Hey, can I get a tissue?"
"Shut yer trap," one of the guards growled but the door to his cell opened slowly, the guard advancing cautiously and Sirius could only imagine how many wands were pointed at him right now. "Don't you move, or I swear-"
"Yeah, yeah," Sirius rolled his eyes. "You'll curse me until my eyes turn green and my insides roll up into little balls kids can play with. Hurry up, will you? I want that tissue."
The guard froze, turning the said tissue in his hands suspiciously. "What, you going to use it to perform some dark magic?"
"Yes," Sirius answered sarcastically. "I'm going to use that tissue to call up some insanely powerful demon who'll eat everyone in this room before freeing me, all without my wand and with nothing else but that piece of paper in your hands." His sarcasm was cut short by another sharp sneeze and Sirius sniffed. "You going to hurry?"
"But you said-"
"Come off it, Jim," another guard muttered. "He's just joking."
Sirius raised his hands in defeat. "If you're so worried, you can come over a pick it up after I'm done." He smirked. "I'm sure you can find something in there to use against me."
That did it. The guard gave Sirius one last glare before tossing the tissue on the floor and hurrying out of the room. Sirius waited until the locks on the door clicked into place before moving, wary of any overzealous wizard waiting for him to make a wrong move. He got to the tissue and picked it up with a disgusted grunt. "Eh. You dropped it in the water!" he yelled, shaking his fist at the locked door. "It's worthless now."
He swore he heard snickers from behind the door and settled back on the dry cot across the room, wringing the soggy paper as best he could without ripping it. And with a defeated sigh, he blew his nose.
"I guess I should be thankful," Sirius murmured to himself, too low for anyone else to hear. "No matter how bad this gets, it's nothing compare to Azkaban. Now that was bad. These guys, at worst, can only make horribly bad jokes that they expect me to laugh at like I'm some sort of weird freak."
He rolled to his back, staring at the ceiling and the cracks in it. Talking to himself had become a defensive reflex from his days in Azkaban, where the only things keeping him sane were the thoughts of Harry, dreams of Wormtail's painful death, and the sound of his own voice droning on and on. Those were the only certain things in the dark and dreary cell.
Sirius gave a half chuckle at that thought. "They probably stuck me in here, trying to make it seem as bad as Azkaban. Nothing is as bad as Azkaban. I can still see the sun; I couldn't see that in Azkaban. I can hear other people; couldn't do that in Azkaban. If I'm really good, I can sometimes get a laugh out of one of the guards… Dementors never laugh."
Sirius waited a moment to let his words sink in and abruptly changed the subject.
"I wonder Remus got back. Wonder what he thought when he saw the mess I left." He laughed. "Can't wait to see him again. First words'll probably be 'Sirius, you dog, you ruined my house!' Ahh… I wonder how Harry's doing."
He closed his eyes at that thought. "Oh, nononononono-"
"Shut up, you," one guard barked but Sirius barely heard him.
"What a mess, eh Sirius. Harry's going to go and do something bloody idiotic. Just for you. You're worthless, you know, getting caught again. Now you're godson, who you're supposed to be keeping out of trouble, will get in trouble trying to get you out of this."
He considered those words a moment. "Maybe he won't do anything-Ah, that's a thought. No, he's too stupid for his own good. Maybe he hasn't heard yet. Yea, that's a possibility. Harry's with those daft muggles, he'll never hear. And Remus'll get me out of here before he finds out."
"Hey!" Sirius yelled. "What's today?"
"September 19," someone answered absently, and Sirius' slightly-canine ears heard cards being shuffled. He perked up.
"Can I play?"
There was a stunned silence and then the same person answered, "Sure."
"Bill! Are you insane!"
"Letting him play? He'll do some voodoo on the cards, make 'em explode or something."
"If the Minister hears about this, he'll kill all of us!"
"Just chill, you guys," Bill chided as the door opened. Sirius blinked to see none other than Bill Weasley standing before him, long hair and all with a telling grin on his face. He winked and Sirius nearly fell over with shock. "Black won't do nothing; he hasn't done anything. Besides, didn't you read the paper? He's got a trial planned in a few weeks. If he's as innocent as he claims, he's not going no where."
The others looked shaky but Bill added, "Anyway, this place is rigged with anti-dark magic stuff, remember? If he does try anything, Aurors'll swamp this place before he takes another step."
The other four finally nodded and Bill motioned for Sirius to step forward, wrinkling his nose at the smell. Sirius grinned wickedly. "They didn't let me take a shower. Thought I'd trigger the shower to give off only cold water or something."
Bill rolled his eyes and muttered a cleaning spell, leaving Sirius with a refreshed, grateful feeling. "Alright, I deal. We're playing B.S. if you know what that is-"
"Course I do," Sirius snapped back good-naturedly. He rubbed his arms. "I'm not that old."
"Right. Oh yeah, these are your other guards. Jim, Hank, Merle, Felix, and me, Bill." Bill shuffled the cards expertly, passing out an equal amount to each of the wizards. Everyone settled onto the floor, shooting looks between themselves.
Hank, sitting next to Bill, went first. "One Ace."
"Two Twos," Merle slapped the cards down.
"One Three," Felix announced.
"One Four," Jim pulled his hand back from placing down his card.
"Bull shit," Sirius smirked as Jim went bright red. Seeing no one else move, Sirius reached his hand up to overturn the last card on the pile. Not a Four but a Nine. Grumbling, Jim picked up the pile, slipping the cards into his hand. Sirius grinned wolfishly and stated, "Two Fives."
The game went on, everyone getting more competitive, more daring. Sirius passed off three fours and jacks, something Jim yelled over when he got caught lying the next round around. Bill sneaked in extra cards between his hands and Hank didn't lie once but he picked up most of the liars. Felix and Merle whispered conspiracies out of the corner of their mouths, glancing at other player's hands whenever they could. And Sirius was an incurable sneak.
Bill was the first to get rid of all his cards, followed quickly by Felix and Hank. Merle dropped out next, and it was just Sirius and Jim battling head to head in a rather pointless two-on-two. Both knew exactly what the other had, and both knew exactly what the other didn't have.
"One King," Sirius passed the cards onto the growing deck. Jim started to sweat and Sirius grinned again. "Your turn."
"Cheating varmint," Jim muttered darkly, but his words weren't meant to be harsh, just an outlet of his nervousness. He sighed and reached out a hand. "One-"
"Bull shit!" Sirius howled with laughter as Jim huffed and scooped up all the cards. He twirled the last card in his fingers and laid it on the bare floor. "One Two. And I'm out."
"Sorry Jim, but you lose," Merle slapped the man on the back with a grin. "Next time, eh?"
Jim collected all the cards and actually smiled. "Yea, next time I'll beat you, Black."
Sirius laughed but they shook hands, both grinning madly. "Yea, you and what army?"
"We'll just play a game I know how to beat," Jim replied offhandedly. "Like Rummy. B.S. isn't a man's game-"
"Alright, fellas," Bill stood and stretched his back until the bones cracked. "Fun's over. The Minister's scheduled an appointment in about five minutes, so everyone get back to their posts. And Sirius," Bill glared mockingly, one hand on his hip and the other pointing to the dark chamber, "go to your room."
Sirius pouted but walked back to the cell willingly. Jim caught his back, muttering, "Good luck," before walking away. The phrase brightened his day, making Sirius feel prepared for whatever the Minister had to throw at him.
"Hey, Fudge's on his way up," someone called and the room tensed.
Fudge walked in, a bright smile--obviously fake--painted on his face. "Ah, good morning, good morning. I trust everything's good?"
"No complaint from me, sir," Bill answered gravely. "The prisoner's been polite and quiet. 'Cept for when he talks to himself."
"Talks to himself?" Fudge mused. "You've listened in, correct? There's much to learn about the Dark Lord's plans from this one."
"No, sir. He's been very quiet about it, sir, but from what I've heard, it's mostly just mumbles about Azkaban."
Fudge brightened. "So, he's reminded of Azkaban? Good work, Weasley. You and your family have done much that the wizarding community has to be thankful for. I imagine you're very proud of your younger brother, Percy, correct?"
Bill's tone was flat and emotionless when he answered, "For the most part, yes."
Fudge nodded and moved on, seeing that the formalities were over. Bill motioned and two wizards moved to accompany the Minister to the cell, where he peeped in to see Sirius laying down, eyes closed. "Is he asleep?"
"Let me see, sir." Jim looked in and nodded. "Looks to be, sir."
"Well, wake him up!" Fudge commanded irritably. "I haven't got all day, and there's important news to be told."
"Of course, sir." Jim opened the room, waiting for the others to get into a defensive position before stalking into the room. "Up, Black. Important people to see."
Sirius got up, blinked, and then grinned nastily at the startled Minister. "Fudge."
"Black." Fudge glared.
"No, I mean fudge," Sirius contradicted. "The food. You seem to have spilled some on your shirt."
Fudge bristled but went on, ignoring the taunt. "I've come to inform your, Black, that you seem to have been misinformed, along with half of the wizards and witches over the world. A recent article was published, stating plans for a trial to be held concerning your innocence. I'm afraid to say," he paused and smiled, " that is a lie."
Sirius frowned, standing up. "Excuse me?"
"As soon as the dementors are found," Fudge went on airily, "they'll perform their kiss and everything will be settled. The attacks will quit-"
"You know that I didn't do any of those attacks!" Sirius yelled loudly. "I was locked up in this damn room the entire time!"
"Of course you didn't," Fudge admitted slowly. "But the Ministry needed someone to blame." Sirius gaped. "And you were so conventionally caught. It was only natural, of course. And any attacks after your execution will be blamed on the followers you've picked up since your escape. Those followers will be picked up and arrested, as well, and the wizarding world will finally be cleansed of your kind-"
"M-my kind?" Sirius stuttered, voice unsteady under the tidal wave of information the Ministry was throwing in his face.
Fudge scowled. "The kind that doesn't listen to the rules, that flaunt their success in the face of other's failures. The kind that seem to get everything in the world, and instead of being happy with it, try to get more. You know that when you were an Auror, I was trying to be one as well?"
Sirius shook his head wordlessly. Fudge snorted angrily. "Of course not. You were too busy being popular to see those that struggled to accomplish what you did so easily. If you hadn't been exposed as a 'traitor', my name would have been just another in a pile of nobodies. I had been on a team trailing your friend Peter for almost a month when he faked his death and framed you to be taken down. It's only luck that I was the first Auror to arrive on the scene."
"If you know I'm innocent," Sirius started, mouthing each word slowly, "then why all this? Why did you keep me locked up in Azkaban all those years?"
"If it was found out that, as an Auror, I allowed an innocent man to be captured and thrown into Azkaban, my rule would be over. My judgement would be questioned and then ignored. As it is now, people are already beginning to see through me. Your death, and the capture of your 'followers' afterward, will cement my power. And by increasing the power of the Aurors, my Aurors, will keep everyone in line." Fudge waited for Sirius to drown in the information. "I just thought you should know."
He turned, cloak flaring, and for an instant, Sirius swore that the Minister was none other than Voldemort, swishing his black robes to leave his victims behind, powerless to stop the coming torture.