Wherever You Will Go (Chapter Seven)

Disclaimers: I don't own anything that has to do with Harry Potter, except for some copies of the book, but those don't really count. I also don't own the song "Wherever You Will Go". None of this is mine. Comprenez-vous? So don't sue me.

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"Enervate."

Harry slowly opened his eyes. He knew two things: he was thirsty, and it also appeared that he was in very, very deep trouble. He felt tight bonds around his wrists, which were behind his back. Experimentally, he tugged on them. Tight and magically protected.

Cold fingers pressed on the underside of his chin, forcing him to look up. A smile curved onto the face of the man standing in front of him. "Hello, Mr. Potter," the man murmured. Harry flinched as the man traced his scar with a long finger. He opened his mouth, and tried to say something. The man pressed his finger to Harry's lips. "No talking, Harry. You need something to drink first. You've been out for a few hours." He straightened up, and walked toward the opposite side of the room.

Harry took that opportunity to look around him. The walls were stone, and appeared to be damp. The room was lit by a small, cold lamp that hung from the ceiling, and the floor appeared to be clean. He was kneeling on a blanket, which protected his knees somewhat from the rough stone floor. He turned his head left, and gasped.

Ron lay in a corner, bound hand and foot. He appeared to be asleep. Harry struggled to get over to his friend, but the bonds would not give way. Tears sprang to his eyes. "Ron," he croaked. "Wake up, Ron!"

The tall man glided back to Harry. "Now what did I say about talking, Harry? Here, drink this." He held a cup up to Harry's lips. After looking at it briefly and verifying that it at least looked like water, Harry drank. It tasted like water, and was thankfully cold. The man set aside the cup after it was finished, and conjured up a chair in front of Harry. He sat down, smiling.

"I suppose I should introduce myself," he said, inspecting a long and perfectly manicured fingernail. "My name is Lano. And you, of course, are Harry Potter."

"Ron," Harry gasped. "Is Ron okay?"

A frown briefly touched Lano's lips before his expression became neutral once more. "Mr. Weasley is fine. He is merely sleeping. However, I am not concerned with him; he is only a mechanism to allow me to gain access to the Ministry. I have a slightly more personal interest with you."

Harry didn't like the sound of this. "Oh?" he answered, his tone guarded.

Lano twirled a wand between his fingers. "Yes. I have been watching you, Harry." He smiled again.

"That's nice," Harry replied. Then he frowned. "Is that my wand?"

Lano laughed softly. "Yes, Harry, it is your wand. I cannot allow you to have it, as I know very well what you would do with it."

Harry sighed. "What do you want with me?"

Lano's face twisted into a menacing sneer. "You are a very powerful Auror, Harry. You helped destroy my Lord Voldemort. What do I want with you? I want you dead. And I want to kill you myself." He flipped Harry's wand over and pointed it at him.

Harry had figured it would be something like this. He didn't dignify Lano's statement with an answer, and concentrating on hoping that Neville would bring backup and remember the password. Password..

"Where's Edward?" he asked suddenly.

Lano glanced at the doorway. "He's in the other room. He has not been brought around yet."

Harry tugged on his bonds again, twisting his wrists slightly. Nothing. He sighed mentally, wishing that the Death Eaters would recruit only very stupid people. Unluckily for him, Lano was only the fourth Death Eater of higher-than-normal intelligence that he had ever come across. Even worse was the fact that he couldn't do anything. 'Hurry up, Hermione!' he thought.

Lano watched Harry, amusement in his eyes. He crossed his legs. "How does it feel to be on the losing side for once, Harry?"

Harry watched Lano carefully. If he played his cards right, he could hold out until Neville discovered their disappearance. So, he turned his head away from the strange Death Eater and watched Ron. The redhead's chest was rising and falling rhythmically; he was, indeed, alive. Briefly, Harry wondered if he would be able to hop on his knees over to his friend. It would be most undignified, but in a situation like this, keeping his dignity intact wasn't on the top of his to-do list.

Eventually, Lano left, tired of Harry's silence. Harry waited for a few minutes to be sure, and struggled to his knees. He managed to propel himself across the floor using strange twisting motions, with the occasional fall. When he finally reached Ron, he was gasping with exhaustion. "Ron," he whispered urgently. "Wake up, Ron."

Ron lay on the floor, breathing regularly. Harry nudged him with a shoulder, almost falling over in the process. His heart soared as Ron's eyes fluttered open. "What?" the redhead grumbled. "Can't let me have a good sleep now - bloody hell, Harry, is that you?"

Harry grinned broadly, nodding once before collapsing with fatigue. Ron's eyes widened, and he reached out to stop Harry from knocking himself out on the floor. Harry looked at his best friend, his eyes unfocused. "You're not tied?" he murmured, about to conk out whether he hit the ground or not.

Ron shook his head. "They've got my wand, and anyway, there's no way to get out of here." He made a disgusted face, which changed to one of wonder. "But how did you get here?"

Harry leaned against a wall, glad for some support at his back. "Long story.. want to hear the whole thing or the short version?"

Ron shrugged. "We're not getting out of here anytime soon. Might as well tell me the whole story."

Harry took a deep breath, and closed his eyes for a second. He re-opened them. "First, it's been a year since you disappeared on us -"

"Sorry 'bout that, Harry," Ron mumbled sheepishly. "Didn't mean to." Harry smiled weakly at him. "I know. It's okay. Anyway, about six months ago, Voldemort was defeated." Ignoring Ron's wide-eyed reaction to this, Harry kept talking. "A few months ago, Hermione became the Minister of Magic, and she's doing a damn good job of it so far."

"Stop, stop, stop. Voldemort's gone?" Ron demanded weakly. Harry nodded. "I should know. I was there." A broad smile spread over Ron's face. "We're not screwed, then! Well, maybe a little. Anyway, how did Hermione get to be Minister?"

"They originally asked me, but Hermione's better at that stuff than I am, so I told them to give her the job instead. They did. After she became Minister, she sent out teams of Aurors to find Death Eaters who had fled. This town attracted their attention, and I got sent up here with Edward MacRae." Harry wondered whether or not he should tell Ron about Neville's part in this.

Ron nodded. "And you guys ended up here. Well, three's better than one, even if none of us have wands." He grimaced. Harry nodded silently, and tried once again to get out of the ties at his wrists.

"Oh, hell, are you tied? I should have noticed.. here, lemme see if I can get that undone." Ron moved around behind Harry, and fiddled with the bonds for a minute. Harry felt them gradually loosening, and heard Ron sigh in frustration. "They're magic, the damn things, and I can't get them undone any more than this!"

Harry wriggled his wrists, glad that they weren't restricting his blood flow anymore. "Thanks, Ron, this is much better. Maybe I can slip them off.." He continued trying to get out of the ties, while Ron moved around front and began to work on Harry's ankles.

Within half an hour, Harry yanked his wrist out triumphantly. Soon after, Ron loosened the ankle ties enough to Harry to slip out of them. Harry stretched, and grinned broadly. "Okay, now there's got to be some way out of here." He stood up, and his unsteady legs toppled beneath him. Ron caught him again, and they sat on the blanket.

"There isn't any way out of here except the door," Ron said, "but I'm sure there's a way we can get around that." He grinned. "Got any ideas?"

They began plotting.