Disclaimer: HP isn't mine. Alas…
Chapter 24
"Easy, Percy. I've got you," Arthur Weasley said as he steadied Percy. Floo travel on Percy's best day wasn't his forte. Arthur kept an eye on Ron who leaped up from the dining room table as they arrived, the chair clattering behind him unnoticed. Rage was evident even as Ron's eyes scanned his brother's face closely, noting Percy's unsteadiness and the way his freckles stood out starkly against his pale skin. Of course, this didn't stop Ron from having his wand ready and aimed directly at Percy.
"What's he doing here? Come to arrest more of us?" Ron snarled. Arthur frowned at his youngest son. Not now. Let's deal with all of this later, he thought wearily. It had proven to be a truly awful day, and Arthur refused to think about the fact that Harry had probably arrived at Azkaban by now.
"Put your wand down, Ron," Arthur said gently but firmly. Ron looked from his father to his brother, and lowered the tip of his wand a little but did not drop it completely.
"What's he doing here?" Ron asked again. Arthur looked at both his sons as he half supported Percy over to the couch their mother had just recently occupied herself.
"Steady, lad. That took more than you thought, didn't it?" Arthur said tenderly to Percy as he directed his wand to help Percy with his boots.
The memory charms on Percy had been surprisingly strong for having been so recently cast, suggesting multiple applications. First castings were generally when memory charms were at their weakest. Only after months and years of natural reinforcement of the block could it become nearly impossible to break.
Arthur looked around, his eyes searching the room. The front door had been repaired, of course. Ron had been in the process of doing that as Arthur had left for Hogsmeade, once the itching stopped. He and Hermione must have finished straightening up the rest of the living room. "Where's your mum?" Arthur asked Ron.
"She's upstairs taking a bath. She thought it might loosen things up," Ron replied, still glaring at Percy. Dad's protecting you now, but just you wait… Arthur read correctly from Ron's gaze. Not that Arthur could blame him. Arthur nodded his head and a slight smile played on his lips for a moment at the news of Molly's soak.
"So she's feeling better, then?" Arthur persisted, although it certainly sounded like she was recovering nicely if she wanted a bath. Ron sighed and nodded his head. "How about George? Has he woken up yet?" Arthur asked as he helped Percy lift his legs and lie back onto the couch cushions wearily. He suspected Percy had a roaring headache. Ron nodded.
"He ate a little, too. I figure if he's peckish enough to eat Hermione and Ginny's cooking, he's loads better," Ron joked gently. Arthur felt his face brighten considerably, as Ron undoubtedly knew it would, at the comment.
"How are the rest of you doing?" Arthur asked his youngest son, grateful at Ron's ability to sense his need to make sure that his family was indeed okay and reassure him that no, nothing too serious had happened. Another near miss…
"I…" Ron began but was interrupted as Hermione came downstairs.
"She kicked Ginny and I out, saying something about peace and quiet…" Hermione announced as she came downstairs and froze, her foot hovering as it was about to take another step. "Um… Ron….?" Hermione asked, and Ron beamed in pride as Hermione's wand whipped out as well. Arthur restrained from rolling his eyes at the two of them. "You!" Hermione said with anger plain in her face, glaring at the older son, prompting Arthur to physically place himself in front of the couch between her and Percy. Ron he knew would listen, but Hermione… Percy wasn't her family, and he'd just betrayed her best friend.
"Please lower your wand, Hermione," Arthur instructed, his voice stern. Hermione's wand tip lowered, but she kept it ready in her hand.
"I don't know why he's here. *Dad* brought him," Ron snarled in explanation as she proceeded downstairs. Arthur glanced back at Percy. His eyes were still closed, but his breathing pattern indicated he was still awake. He didn't say anything. There's nothing to say, really, is there?
"He's here because he's *family*, Ron. He doesn't need a reason," Arthur said sternly. Ron scratched at his chin angrily. Hermione's face remained eerily expressionless. Arthur concentrated on his son. If he could reach Ron, he would convince Hermione eventually.
"Why'd you bring him here, dad?" Ron asked. "He's got his own flat now."
"Because he wants to help. Your brother found out a memory charm had been placed on him, and he came to me to help him find a way to break it," Arthur replied. Ron face lit up.
"What… Has he been under the Imperious Curse? Is *that* why he's been such a prat? Why didn't you say so? Who did it? Was it Malfoy? I'll bet it was…" Ron began, obviously ready to go after whoever had harmed his brother, and relieved to the point of being on the verge of tears that Percy hadn't really *meant* to do what he'd done to Harry. Arthur hated to take away that relief. It's not nearly so simple, Ron.
"Ron. No, Ron. It was Percy's decision. But Harry's interrogation records were falsified. We've been with Remus and Dumbledore for the past few hours breaking those charms to find out what *really* happened," Arthur said, his voice subdued. Ron closed his eyes wearily. The expression in his eyes as he looked at Arthur nearly broke Arthur's heart.
"What did really happen?" Hermione asked quietly. Arthur opened his mouth to answer, but Ron cut in, glaring down at his brother who, Arthur noticed, was now watching them.
"Why, Percy? What did Harry ever do to you?" Ron asked. Hermione slowly made it the rest of the way downstairs, her eyes wide as she watched the exchange between the Weasley men. Percy shook his head and sighed.
"Nothing. It wasn't about that. I *like* Harry," Percy said. Ron blinked several times, his face expressionless before his lips finally curled into a small snarl.
"If that's what you do to people you like, I don't want to see what you do to people you love," Ron said venomously.
"That's enough," Arthur said angrily and reached into his robe pockets. "Rather than waste precious time for something that's *already done*, why don't you do something constructive, like try to help me find a way to free Harry?" he said and proceeded to enlarge two enormous trunks full of parchments, which he then directed by floating into the dining room. Hermione's mouth dropped open in shock as she looked from Ron to Percy. Ron took a step back in surprise.
"Was this from you?" Hermione asked Percy. Her face was still hard, but her eyes held… something more. Percy nodded weakly.
"It's copies of all the paperwork I've filed and processed in the past three months," Percy replied. Arthur walked over to the trunks full of parchment and proceeded to flip open the lid to one of them. Ron compressed his lips into a grim line, and began to clear the dining room table. It was going to be a long evening, and Arthur intended to keep the news that Harry was in Azkaban as long as possible from Ron and Hermione. It would do neither of them any good, and might even hinder their ability to help him search.
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Ron sat on the back porch in the early morning hours nursing a cup of tea. He'd found out an hour ago about what really happened at the Ministry and now couldn't get his mind off of Harry. He thought of his brother now sitting at the dining table along with his dad, Fred, Hermione and Ginny and once again felt the anger rise up inside him, desperate to strike Percy down. How could you? He couldn't even begin to describe how he felt about his brother at the moment. You had no idea what it was like for Harry, night after night. Why did you even bother questioning him, if you refused to believe the answers?
"Ron?" Hermione asked, the screen door slamming closed behind her as she joined him on the porch.
"Here," he replied tiredly. The writing on the parchments was beginning to blur. His eyes were so tired he was surprised they weren't crossing.
"Your mum's back in the kitchen again, so she insisted if I were joining you to bring some pastries," Hermione said, trying to infuse humor into her voice, but too tired to be able to do it properly.
"Thanks," Ron said, taking one from the plate she offered. He could see her face illuminated from the light coming through the windows. The circles under her eyes were accented in the lamplit shadows. Her hair had been roughly pulled back into a bun, which she'd secured with one of Fred's fake wands. Stray frizzy hairs surrounded her face like a peach fuzz halo, and the paleness of her skin was from more than her bookish tendencies.
"We'll find something," Hermione said, her voice unsure. Ron didn't ask if she was trying to reassure herself as well as him. He knew the answer. He hated how his father and Percy were currently discussing possible ways Fudge had hid resources. It seemed so… Normal. Like old times. But Ron found he couldn't even look at Percy anymore. To do so made his stomach clench so tightly he thought he might be sick. Fred didn't look much better.
You almost killed George. He could have landed wrong. What if they'd used stronger curses? How many could have mum endured before it was too much? It was never spoken aloud, but Ron and his brothers were *extremely* protective of Ginny and their mother.
When Ginny had been born, both mother and daughter had nearly died due to complications. Although Ron didn't remember that day, it permeated every aspect of how he and his brothers perceived and treated both women. It was the unspoken reason why any date Ginny ever had would be treated with a scrutiny unparalleled, and why any bad word against their family, especially unkind references to the size of their family, was met with such anger and hostility.
For Percy to break such an unspoken covenant between the brothers was by far the most devastating thing he could have ever done. Yes, Ron had to concede that although Harry was an unofficial member of the Weasley clan, he wasn't blood. *I* think of him as family, and I know mum's claimed him as her own, but I can't expect everyone else to. But not only had Percy gone against Harry and the family directly, he'd endangered them by his own decision as well. That, Ron thought, is something I can't forgive. And Merlin help you if Harry dies, Ron vowed with a far more deep and powerful rage than he'd ever felt before. He may not be blood, but he's more a brother to me than you are.
Listening to the discussion going on inside, Ron realized some of what was making him so frustrated. Percy and his father were still speaking to each other. The tension in the room, although palpable, wasn't what it should be. This is wrong. This isn't how it's supposed to be. This was how his family interacted after a squabble, after Fred and George had done something particularly damaging to the Burrow, or after they'd played one too many pranks on Ginny.
This was Weasley life trying to pick up where it left off. This *is not* how people should behave after having your best friend arrested. It trivialized it somehow, made it seem less important than it was, and Ron had to suppress an equally impotent anger towards his father for taking Percy back into the fold so easily.
"A knut for your thoughts," Hermione said after a while. Ron sighed, reaching a hand back to massage the back of his neck. The tension was beginning to give him a blinding headache.
"I hate this. I can't even imagine what Harry's going through, and you know what? I feel like it's my fault," Ron said after a moment. Hermione's eyes widened. Abruptly, she set the plate of food beside Ron and stood up, settling herself behind him. Absently she brushed his hands away and began to massage his neck. "How can you do it? How is it you're so calm?" Ron asked as he closed his eyes in relief. Already the pressure behind his forehead was beginning to abate. She was remarkably good at this.
"I'm not," Hermione said simply. Ron frowned, but knew she couldn't see his expression. "I want to scream and yell and hex Percy into tomorrow. I want to rush the Ministry and campaign the Daily Prophet and figure out a way to force Dumbledore to rescue him," Hermione said. Ron couldn't help but smile. Hermione was perfectly capable of trying to do all of those things. Of that he had no doubt.
"It makes me sick to think what they're doing to Harry," Hermione continued. "It's disgusting, it's awful, and it makes me ashamed to be a part of the wizarding community that's doing it. Even Muggles are better. They at least try to protect children from abuse and criminals at least have a trial before imprisonment. Poor Harry's had to live with abusive relatives, and you know what? All I can think of is…" Hermione paused for a moment, her hands retreating from Ron's neck. He realized he could tell from her breathing pattern that she was trying not to cry.
"Hermione?" Ron asked, moving to turn around and face her. She placed a hand on his shoulder to keep him still. She doesn't want you to see her crying, Ron realized. He sat back down.
"How could Dumbledore not know? About the Dursleys, I mean. And for that matter, if Dumbledore knew Harry was in enough danger to need a portkey, why even keep him here at all?" Hermione asked. The question stunned Ron. He hadn't thought about it that way.
"You mean…?" Ron began, not sure he even wanted to say it.
"Remus knew the Ministry might come for Harry, therefore also putting Sirius in danger. That's why Dumbledore gave them both portkeys. If he knew this, why keep them here at all? Why not stay at the Shrieking Shack, or someplace hidden? Madam Pomfrey and Snape could still visit Harry, and he would be safe from the Ministry," Hermione said, her voice quivering with emotion. Ron closed his eyes wearily. Surely the ever knowing, although a bit squirrelly, Headmaster wouldn't have done that on purpose, except…
"The talk," Ron said. He now did turn to look at Hermione's tear streaked face. "On Harry's birthday. Remember? Harry was pretty somber after his private talk with Dumbledore, and he's been obsessed with reading all he could about becoming an Animagus ever since…" Ron said. Hermione closed her eyes, wiping the tears away distractedly.
"So all that time, you think Harry thought it was a real possibility he would end up in Azkaban?" Hermione asked, her voice shocked. Ron nodded.
"You know what this means, right?" Ron asked, amazed at the hope that suddenly rose in his heart. Where on earth is this coming from?
"What?" Hermione asked, but her lips were already twitching in the beginnings of an answering grin.
"It means he hasn't given up. He thought this might happen, and he even planned for it. Sirius survived for years by using his animagus powers to buffer the effects of the Dementors. Harry may not have that kind of time… but he's got more than I thought!" he said and stood up, adrenaline renewing his sense of determination to help Harry. She stood as well, brushing off her pants vigorously.
"I still hate him," Hermione said suddenly. Ron stopped short. He knew who she was talking about. He nodded.
"I do too. But look at the information he's provided. As high up as dad is in the Ministry compared to Percy, he is the one who gets to know all the details. If he wasn't helping us, I don't know what kind of chances Harry would have," Ron painfully admitted. So, I won't say anything too awful. I'll just deal with him like it was any other time he'd been a prat… Ron stopped that thought with a snort, recognizing the irony in it. Ah well. Hang in there, Harry. We'll get you out. I promise.
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The sound of the water tapping against wood was the first thing Harry became aware of as he came awake. He was soaking wet and his neck was aching painfully. Nausea welled up within him as nerve endings seemed to be screaming in protest. Why do I hurt like this? What's wrong? What happened? Harry wondered, having a difficult time collecting his thoughts.
Everything felt sluggish and heavy, and Harry realized that he was bound to a hard wooden bench. And if he hadn't been, he realized he wouldn't be able to sit up at all. A sense of vertigo suffused his senses, making it difficult to even tell which way was up. In fact… If it weren't for these straps, I'd be on the floor. Of course, lying down didn't sound like a bad idea.
Harry struggled to open his eyelids and lifted his head. He must have been sitting with his chin on his chest. His eyes felt puffy and stung as he blinked to try to clear them. Frowning, he realized everything in front of him seemed blurry, but he could feel his glasses on his nose. He became conscious of a slow drizzle soaking his lenses, more like a mist than rain, making everything before him unclear.
Forcing his eyes to focus through the blurs, Harry realized he was in a boat. The faint sense of vertigo he felt was it being gently rocked with the larger waves. Fog hung over the water, and Harry realized he didn't where he was, but he knew where he was going. Actually, maybe not. After all, he didn't even know where Azkaban was.
In the grayish white tendrils of mist, Harry could see nothing around him but the murky greenish black sea. The misty rain was beginning to turn into a more solid drizzle, the drops pattering against the water below like tiny pebbles against glass. That, and the gentle hissing of occasional swells foaming white around him were all the sounds that accompanied him. His skin felt coated with dried sweat, rain and salt from the sea. Am I close to shore? How long was I out? If I could find a way to get out of the straps, could I swim? Harry tried to force his brain to think. He was freezing cold, his robes… I wasn't wearing robes earlier… soaked through.
I'm going to Azkaban, he thought, trying to calm the growing panic. I had to try. I had to take the chance. Harry closed his eyes for a moment. It had been a useless gesture. It hadn't done anyone any good. Sirius. I had to try, Sirius, Harry thought, and opened his eyes. Don't panic. You're not there yet. Think. Turning to look around him, Harry realized that he was alone in the boat. It moved forward silently, propelled magically. There were no landmarks, nothing visible in front or behind him. In the grayness, Harry closed his eyes for a moment, and unbidden a memory came to mind...
In the boats, gathered with the rest of the frightened, intimidated, excited first years. He remembered when Hogwarts finally came into view… How enormous, how impossible and yet also how *real* it felt, this new life he'd stumbled into and the possibilities it had opened up… For friendship, for freedom, to learn, to grow, to love and be loved in return... The emotions that rolled to the surface were nearly more than Harry could stand. He hurt, and he was so tired, and sick of how his scar burned. He hated the permanent tremors in his body, and now it seemed like it almost wasn't even his own, as if he were trying to move in molasses.
The portkey, Harry thought wildly. Do I still have the portkey? I could try to use it before… Before I get there. He tried to move, to reach his fingers into his pocket and feel if the handkerchief was still there. It didn't work, but it's not too late, he thought a bit wildly as he tried to move his hands even a little. His shoulders were bunched painfully behind him and he tried to wiggle his wrists even a little within the leather straps that magically trapped him to the wooden bench, a painful reminder of the Interrogation Chair. Harry's stomach lurched at the thought and he realized… They gave me Veritaserum. That's why I feel like this, Harry thought and was amazed to feel a little better. Hopefully this feeling would pass. This wasn't another step downward.
This isn't working. I can't move even a little, Harry realized with growing frustration. The more he struggled against the binding, the tighter it became. It had also begun to sting a bit. Squinting to focus, he realized his wrists were bleeding now, and the salt of the sea air was making them burn irritatingly. Even if I have the portkey, I can't reach it. It's in my pocket, and no amount of contortions is going to get there. Focus, Harry, focus, he thought, trying to keep his mind from wandering. It seemed so easy for his thoughts to just drift away, and he found it difficult to concentrate. Is this another side effect? He wondered.
What if I try to capsize the boat? Will the straps release automatically? Harry tried to think of any and every angle. He didn't want to think of it as hopeless, but that was what was rising up inside him. Harry, get a hold of yourself. You have no idea where you are. You have no clue where the shore is. If the straps let go, and you manage to capsize the boat, how long will you even be able to swim? Harry doubted he could even walk at the moment.
Would you do it again? Do you regret it? Harry's mind questioned him like a third person, forcing him to face what he'd done. Yes, Harry realized as he relaxed his hands. Thankfully, the moment he quit struggling, the straps ceased to be so constricting. Well, that's something. No. I did it for Sirius, and because we can't do this alone. It's what Dumbledore didn't say. That he can't stave off Voldemort forever alone. That I can't, either. We need help. And I need a family. A real family.
Harry listened to the water tapping and again his mind drifted into memories. Try to concentrate, Harry… Hagrid had come to get him, and given him Hedwig. He'd already met Ron, and wasn't quite sure yet what to make of Hermione. She had tried to help Neville find his frog after all… They'd stepped into the boats, not propelled by engine or man, but by magic.
He'd made a decision that summer that would irrevocably change his life. Choose between trying to be normal, or embracing a world they said he belonged in, but knew nothing about. But he'd known then the truth, and each year since it had gotten more painfully obvious. Though the Dursleys were blood relatives, they would never be family. And I can't go back to the Dursleys, and the Weasleys aren't mine to keep. Sirius and Remus… They're all I have, and they're just as lost as I am. I love Ron and Hermione. They're more than best friends… They're… We work. It's beyond friendship, and beyond blood. And I'd adopt Ron's mum in a heartbeat. But… I'm greedy. I wanted something more. Guilty as charged. Harry had to force himself from shrugging at his own wandering thoughts, remembering the discomfort of the bindings.
The sounds around him began to change, and Harry abruptly recognized the sound of a seagull. He'd heard them on the telly, although he didn't think he'd ever seen one. Am I getting closer to land? What happens now? Harry's heart began to pound in his ears again as fear rose back up to the surface, no longer distracted by his thoughts. You've studied for days to become an Animagus, Harry. You can do this. Should I try it right now? Do people become Animagus sea creatures? Perhaps, he thought, I should try now. Just in case.
And as Harry closed his eyes, allowing the words from the book to float up into his mind, the instructions easy to understand but difficult to really feel, a chill… different from the cold of the sea... began to infuse his senses. It was a chill that rose from the inside, and the mist began to clear a few feet further ahead. Black robed figures filled his vision even as the screams filled his mind.
There was no longer any time for anything as the pleasant hiss of the sea transitioned into wet, rattling breaths. He was on the edge of a swirling precipice of pain, loss, guilt, terror, and loneliness, the cries of the dead clawing into his consciousness. Harry fought, even as he knew how useless it was without his wand. Without his Patronus. The blackness swallowed him up and he fell, not feeling the ice cold, decayed hands against his skin as he was picked up, his limp form cradled against a bony chest as he was carried inside. To Azkaban.
TBC…
Colleen: Yes it has. Hmmm. More to come on that front.
FairyTale: Thanks! Actually, it's been serendipity. I never expected to be able to write Arthur and Percy like I have. They aren't too fleshed out in the books, but they grew on me. I'm glad you like them as well.
Gracie: I'm glad you liked Sirius. I wanted to portray the side of him that everyone fears. He's so blustery (not a word, I'm sure, but I'm using it anyway) that it's hard to believe people didn't see through it. I knew that what he showed on Halloween was a different side… poor Ron saw it, and Harry and Hermione got a little glimpse, but even that was tempered by Sirius' feelings of guilt. I suspect when push comes to shove, he's one scary guy.
Elektra (cool name! You're going to be in a movie soon! g): blushes happily Perhaps. Once I duck the 'Kill Fudge' riot outside my door. Wow, I'm glad I've kept you on the edge of your seat. I'm aware how angsty it seems, so have been really trying to strive to find that balance that makes you still appreciate the strength of the characters. After all, that's what makes them so special. Even in the midst of all that darkness, there's still so much light. 8-) Thanks for putting me on your favorites! I'll definitely keep writing.
Moonlight Yellow: Wow, what an awesome review. Hmmm. Hadn't considered that one for Crookshanks… Mrs. Norris, on the other hand… Thanks! I try. I agree about Sirius. Yes, yes, you're not the only one to catch that. My bad on the gillyweed… I really did mean to say gillywater, but it just didn't look right at the time, and now I know why. 20 Brownie Points for you!!! Consider it gillywater, would you? Although it sure would have altered the story a bit had Percy drunk it… Hmmm… Pot… meet kettle. Draco? 8-) I loved your tag quote at the bottom. Very nice.
Sparks, Phoenix, Practical Magic (great movie), Eva Phoenix Potter (Thank you! Hehehehe… I am evil, aren't I?), Teigra (Never liked them myself), sk8reagle, Moonlight Yellow (ah, more questions about the portkey. You'll see… hehehehe), LittleEar BigEar's sis, Tempest Princess (Yes he has, hasn't he?), coconut-ice agent h/h (g), SpiderGirl05 (Wow. Now that's a compliment and a half. Thanks!), ratgirl, WeasleyTwinsLover1112, Hyper Princess, SparklyPrincess (Thank you!), Sherlock 2k, Lothey (Deep breaths, there…), Anonymous, Arien S G, Blunder, summersun, chobitmaden (hehehehehehe…. Flatterer…..giggles): Well, lots of Crookshanks questions and comments. I'm glad you liked Sirius, and hate Fudge. For all of you who noticed, ahem yes, yes, I put gillyweed instead of gillywater. Brownie Points for all of you! Thanks a million for all your kind comments. I love to hear from you!
PurePsychicEspeon: Wow. Thank you. I'm having my own withdrawals to the HP series. The promises they make… sigh See what they drive a person to do? Write their own version! Thanks! Not familiar with the Gohan reference, but that's okay. I get the spirit of it. Thank you! I agree. It's funny to try to measure just what part Dumbledore plays in Harry's trauma, isn't it? He seems all knowing, and yet so much happens to Harry that you just don't want to believe he'd willingly let happen. I've been working to try to capture that a little more clearly. Remember how poorly the school reacted to Harry's being a Parseltongue. They're a treacherous lot. Thank your cousin for referring you, please. I'm thrilled you like it and hope to hear more.
Tanya: Thank you very much. I asked my beta reader a while ago if she thought I was dragging, because I was definitely accused of that. It's nice to hear the flip side. I've had an idea where I want to go with story since the beginning, but wanted to take my time getting to it. As by now I'm sure you can see, the plot's actually pretty fast moving. I knew once I jumped completely into it, it would go too fast, and then how else would I get my HP fix? 8-) I'm really glad you liked the Percy/Arthur interactions. I'm rather fond of them myself. I'm glad you like it. Thank you!