Disclaimer: I still don't own anything, though I wish I did. Harry Potter is J.K. Rowling's, and Star Wars and Indiana Jones belong to Lucasfilm, I do believe.
Chapter Two: Escape from Azkaban
Harry awoke from yet another odd dream about a blonde muggle girl screaming about defamation of character and other absurd concepts. It was his fifth day in Azkaban, and Ron and Hermione had come to visit him every day. They were in the cells on either side. Azkaban had changed a bit since the overthrow of Voldemort. Most notably, dementors no longer prowled the halls sucking life out of the inmates. Additionally, the curtains had changed, all furniture with bite marks on it had been replaced, and bars had been put in to guard against escape. This had been a serious problem since the exodus of the dementors.
Harry rolled over and tried to go back to sleep. For a moment he thought he was at Hogwarts, in his tower dormitory, ready to kick Slytherin's ass on the quidditch field. This was obviously not the case, and you're probably laughing at Harry for imagining it. To his credit, he did not dwell on this fantasy long.
There was one small window to his cell, but the curtains were a bit too short, allowing a piercing ray of sunlight to penetrate the room and metaphorically stab Harry in the eye. He sat up in bed, threw off his gray blanket and talked to himself about his many troubles. "I wish I was in one of the dungeons sometimes," he muttered, "then I could at least sleep past four."
In his rage about the curtains, Harry began kicking everything in reach. Unfortunately, he kicked the wall, which was quite solid and clearly did not want to be kicked. He hopped about on one foot cursing life, and Ron, and Azkaban, and magic, and Ron, and Percy. Then he fell to his knees and clutched the bars of his cell. "What is this hell I inhabit! Or what demon from the depths of hell created thee!" he shouted, his head tilted back slightly as though he were speaking to someone taller than him.
"Are you still mad about the curtains?" asked a fat old Azkaban guard incredulously. He had been drawn to Harry's cell by the noise of a prisoner's imminent insanity and arrived just in time to see Harry drop his head as though he had died suddenly.
Harry stayed on his knees and spoke in a breathless whisper, "You left me here to die. You don't know what it's like in this awful place..." He did not really finish speaking but trailed off into silence. Then he shuddered involuntarily. Nevertheless, his dramatic outpouring of emotion did not impress the guard.
"Listen! I've been here years longer than you have. I've never seen anyone who couldn't last five days, even with dementors roaming the place." He gave a snide look which Harry couldn't see and trudged away.
Harry leapt to his feet and paced the room, looking again and again at the drably colored objects that had become so familiar to him in the past few days. On his ninth turned he paused at the desk (he had a desk and a fairly nice one too) and picked up an old and weathered copy of "Hogwarts: A History". He had never read it but had heard most of its content from Hermione. He read the first page, which was mostly about the significance of Hogwarts through the centuries, and was already confused.
"Hermione! Hermione!!!" he called, turning about in circles as though he wasn't quite sure where she was.
"What? What? You don't have to yell. I'm a few feet away from you." said a voice from beyond the left wall.
"Sorry," Harry said, hanging his head in shame, then realizing Hermione couldn't see this penitence and lifting it again. "I just started reading 'Hogwarts: A History' and..."
"No!" exclaimed voices from both sides of the cell. Then Ron laughed loudly. Being laughed at by Ron was something Harry could not stand.
"I was bored," he said to the wall, then paused. When he spoke again it was in an even more annoyed tone. "Why are you here anyway? This prison experience would have been so much more tolerable without you."
"Well, Percy and I decided we're not family any more after that incident in Las Vegas. So from now on whenever you go to Azkaban, I go as your accomplice. Please don't get sent here often. Stupid Percy and his stupid rules!"
"Ron! Ron!" Hermione interrupted.
"Yes?"
"I was going to criticize you for speaking ill of your elder brother, but then I realized you're probably right to curse him."
"You're...you're agreeing with me?" Ron stuttered, straining to believe what he had heard.
"Yeah! That's right."
"Really?"
"Yes! Without a doubt."
"I love you, Hermione."
"I love you, Ron." I can't believe it took us seven years to say this."
"I can't believe I'm hearing you say it," said Harry in his most irritated voice. "I'm escaping now." He took out his wand, which had conveniently not been taken from him when he was dragged to prison, and tapped the door, muttering "Alohomora." The door sprang open, and Harry strolled leisurely into the corridor, taking his book with him. He had become rather fond of it, the first page at least. "Who's coming with me?" he asked, raising his arms and smiling.
Hermione spoke first. "Harry, you're going to be in so much trouble. What if...?"
She didn't finish her sentence because Ron interrupted her. "I'm coming!" he shouted and laughed merrily.
Hermione paused and considered the situation. "I'm coming too. Let me out, Harry! Let me out! I don't care if I say everything multiple times. Let me out!" She was acting like Harry had a moment ago, shaking the bars as though she had to escape from being crushed by the giant rock in Indiana Jones. Suddenly, she remembered that she too had a wand and used it to open the door to her cell. She saw that Harry was still busy opening Ron's door (Ron had no wand, and both wizards seemed to have forgotten the spell). Hermione performed the spell herself, and all three were free. Well, Ron was free. The others had been freed earlier, as you remember. Actually, none of them were free yet because they were still inside Azkaban fortress. This was a thought which began to trouble Harry.
There was an awkward pause when Ron and Hermione were reunited. Harry had barely begun to worry about an escape route and to give his "Let's get out of here before the guards find us" speech when his two companions fell into each other's arms and started kissing madly. Harry watched them carry on for a minute until they stopped for air. He then used the opportunity to signal that they needed to find a way out. Ignoring the glares he received, he led the way down the hall toward what appeared to be a dead end. "There should be a hidden door somewhere around here," he said, frantically searching for one.
"Don't you remember the way from when they brought us in here?" Ron asked condescendingly.
"Of course not!" Harry practically yelled in response. "I was knocked out."
"Damn! So was I!" said Ron, thinking back as far as he could. Then, turning to Hermione and smiling sweetly, he asked casually, "You don't happen to remember the way out, do you? Darling?"
"No," Hermione responded, "but if we really concentrate and use the Force we'll find the way out...or die trying."
"Use the what?" Harry asked, "And who's dying? I'm not dying just to get out of four weeks in this place."
"I won't answer your second question now, but regarding the first one, I'm ashamed that you don't know the answer." Hermione unlinked arms with Ron so that she could put her hands on her hips and stare down Harry. "The Force is an energy field created by all living things. There's a lot of philosophy associated with it, but the main point is that it gives you the ability to make things fly and control people's minds. It's really a kick-ass weapon, if you ask me."
Harry and Ron stared at her, dumbfounded, and Harry whispered to Ron, "I think she's confused. She's mixing reality with films."
"What are films?"
"I'll explain later. Hermione, let's use the Force to..." But Hermione was already at the other end of the hall, uncovering a hidden door.
"You did it, Hermione!" Ron yelled.
"Of course I did. Reflect for a moment and see what would have become of all your adventures if I hadn't been here to save you." Hermione opened the door only to find the fat guard Harry had spoken to standing on the other side.
Harry gasped. "Gasp! Hermione, cast a spell on him!"
Ron, who was still considering whether Hermione was right in her assertion about their adventures, didn't notice a thing until Harry grabbed his arm and pulled him toward the door. They had already wasted much valuable spell-casting time talking about what spells to cast, and finally Hermione threw up her hands in a gesture of pretended defeat.
"I'm tired of spells," she said to no one in particular, "let's just run for it."
"Good idea, Hermione!" Ron and Harry exclaimed.
The three wizards knocked over the fat guard as they ran past him into the adjoining corridor. Then they slid down a spiral staircase, sprinted down two other hallways, through a hidden door, and out the main gate (luckily unguarded at the time) onto the island beach.
There they collapsed on the sand and laughed at their crazy adventure, consciously ignoring the nagging voice in the backs of their minds that said they still had to cross several miles of ocean.
Chapter Two: Escape from Azkaban
Harry awoke from yet another odd dream about a blonde muggle girl screaming about defamation of character and other absurd concepts. It was his fifth day in Azkaban, and Ron and Hermione had come to visit him every day. They were in the cells on either side. Azkaban had changed a bit since the overthrow of Voldemort. Most notably, dementors no longer prowled the halls sucking life out of the inmates. Additionally, the curtains had changed, all furniture with bite marks on it had been replaced, and bars had been put in to guard against escape. This had been a serious problem since the exodus of the dementors.
Harry rolled over and tried to go back to sleep. For a moment he thought he was at Hogwarts, in his tower dormitory, ready to kick Slytherin's ass on the quidditch field. This was obviously not the case, and you're probably laughing at Harry for imagining it. To his credit, he did not dwell on this fantasy long.
There was one small window to his cell, but the curtains were a bit too short, allowing a piercing ray of sunlight to penetrate the room and metaphorically stab Harry in the eye. He sat up in bed, threw off his gray blanket and talked to himself about his many troubles. "I wish I was in one of the dungeons sometimes," he muttered, "then I could at least sleep past four."
In his rage about the curtains, Harry began kicking everything in reach. Unfortunately, he kicked the wall, which was quite solid and clearly did not want to be kicked. He hopped about on one foot cursing life, and Ron, and Azkaban, and magic, and Ron, and Percy. Then he fell to his knees and clutched the bars of his cell. "What is this hell I inhabit! Or what demon from the depths of hell created thee!" he shouted, his head tilted back slightly as though he were speaking to someone taller than him.
"Are you still mad about the curtains?" asked a fat old Azkaban guard incredulously. He had been drawn to Harry's cell by the noise of a prisoner's imminent insanity and arrived just in time to see Harry drop his head as though he had died suddenly.
Harry stayed on his knees and spoke in a breathless whisper, "You left me here to die. You don't know what it's like in this awful place..." He did not really finish speaking but trailed off into silence. Then he shuddered involuntarily. Nevertheless, his dramatic outpouring of emotion did not impress the guard.
"Listen! I've been here years longer than you have. I've never seen anyone who couldn't last five days, even with dementors roaming the place." He gave a snide look which Harry couldn't see and trudged away.
Harry leapt to his feet and paced the room, looking again and again at the drably colored objects that had become so familiar to him in the past few days. On his ninth turned he paused at the desk (he had a desk and a fairly nice one too) and picked up an old and weathered copy of "Hogwarts: A History". He had never read it but had heard most of its content from Hermione. He read the first page, which was mostly about the significance of Hogwarts through the centuries, and was already confused.
"Hermione! Hermione!!!" he called, turning about in circles as though he wasn't quite sure where she was.
"What? What? You don't have to yell. I'm a few feet away from you." said a voice from beyond the left wall.
"Sorry," Harry said, hanging his head in shame, then realizing Hermione couldn't see this penitence and lifting it again. "I just started reading 'Hogwarts: A History' and..."
"No!" exclaimed voices from both sides of the cell. Then Ron laughed loudly. Being laughed at by Ron was something Harry could not stand.
"I was bored," he said to the wall, then paused. When he spoke again it was in an even more annoyed tone. "Why are you here anyway? This prison experience would have been so much more tolerable without you."
"Well, Percy and I decided we're not family any more after that incident in Las Vegas. So from now on whenever you go to Azkaban, I go as your accomplice. Please don't get sent here often. Stupid Percy and his stupid rules!"
"Ron! Ron!" Hermione interrupted.
"Yes?"
"I was going to criticize you for speaking ill of your elder brother, but then I realized you're probably right to curse him."
"You're...you're agreeing with me?" Ron stuttered, straining to believe what he had heard.
"Yeah! That's right."
"Really?"
"Yes! Without a doubt."
"I love you, Hermione."
"I love you, Ron." I can't believe it took us seven years to say this."
"I can't believe I'm hearing you say it," said Harry in his most irritated voice. "I'm escaping now." He took out his wand, which had conveniently not been taken from him when he was dragged to prison, and tapped the door, muttering "Alohomora." The door sprang open, and Harry strolled leisurely into the corridor, taking his book with him. He had become rather fond of it, the first page at least. "Who's coming with me?" he asked, raising his arms and smiling.
Hermione spoke first. "Harry, you're going to be in so much trouble. What if...?"
She didn't finish her sentence because Ron interrupted her. "I'm coming!" he shouted and laughed merrily.
Hermione paused and considered the situation. "I'm coming too. Let me out, Harry! Let me out! I don't care if I say everything multiple times. Let me out!" She was acting like Harry had a moment ago, shaking the bars as though she had to escape from being crushed by the giant rock in Indiana Jones. Suddenly, she remembered that she too had a wand and used it to open the door to her cell. She saw that Harry was still busy opening Ron's door (Ron had no wand, and both wizards seemed to have forgotten the spell). Hermione performed the spell herself, and all three were free. Well, Ron was free. The others had been freed earlier, as you remember. Actually, none of them were free yet because they were still inside Azkaban fortress. This was a thought which began to trouble Harry.
There was an awkward pause when Ron and Hermione were reunited. Harry had barely begun to worry about an escape route and to give his "Let's get out of here before the guards find us" speech when his two companions fell into each other's arms and started kissing madly. Harry watched them carry on for a minute until they stopped for air. He then used the opportunity to signal that they needed to find a way out. Ignoring the glares he received, he led the way down the hall toward what appeared to be a dead end. "There should be a hidden door somewhere around here," he said, frantically searching for one.
"Don't you remember the way from when they brought us in here?" Ron asked condescendingly.
"Of course not!" Harry practically yelled in response. "I was knocked out."
"Damn! So was I!" said Ron, thinking back as far as he could. Then, turning to Hermione and smiling sweetly, he asked casually, "You don't happen to remember the way out, do you? Darling?"
"No," Hermione responded, "but if we really concentrate and use the Force we'll find the way out...or die trying."
"Use the what?" Harry asked, "And who's dying? I'm not dying just to get out of four weeks in this place."
"I won't answer your second question now, but regarding the first one, I'm ashamed that you don't know the answer." Hermione unlinked arms with Ron so that she could put her hands on her hips and stare down Harry. "The Force is an energy field created by all living things. There's a lot of philosophy associated with it, but the main point is that it gives you the ability to make things fly and control people's minds. It's really a kick-ass weapon, if you ask me."
Harry and Ron stared at her, dumbfounded, and Harry whispered to Ron, "I think she's confused. She's mixing reality with films."
"What are films?"
"I'll explain later. Hermione, let's use the Force to..." But Hermione was already at the other end of the hall, uncovering a hidden door.
"You did it, Hermione!" Ron yelled.
"Of course I did. Reflect for a moment and see what would have become of all your adventures if I hadn't been here to save you." Hermione opened the door only to find the fat guard Harry had spoken to standing on the other side.
Harry gasped. "Gasp! Hermione, cast a spell on him!"
Ron, who was still considering whether Hermione was right in her assertion about their adventures, didn't notice a thing until Harry grabbed his arm and pulled him toward the door. They had already wasted much valuable spell-casting time talking about what spells to cast, and finally Hermione threw up her hands in a gesture of pretended defeat.
"I'm tired of spells," she said to no one in particular, "let's just run for it."
"Good idea, Hermione!" Ron and Harry exclaimed.
The three wizards knocked over the fat guard as they ran past him into the adjoining corridor. Then they slid down a spiral staircase, sprinted down two other hallways, through a hidden door, and out the main gate (luckily unguarded at the time) onto the island beach.
There they collapsed on the sand and laughed at their crazy adventure, consciously ignoring the nagging voice in the backs of their minds that said they still had to cross several miles of ocean.