Part 5: Until the End of Your World
"The Ministry wants me to go to Dublin as a representative. There seems to be a dispute over immigration between the two islands and they thought I could work it out. Would you like to come?"
"Sure," Harry shrugged. The past few days had been hard on him. Every time he tried to think of Sirius or his friends, Javen would know and send him a harsh reprimand in his mind. Javen insisted that he work on his dueling skills even though magic outside Hogwarts was forbidden. Not even the long-missed sun could out-do his longing for a long rest from the constant 'lessons' and supervision of his thoughts.
"It'll be fun, and I would think you'd enjoy being outside," Javen insisted. Harry could only nod. The man sighed in frustration. He could tell that the boy was stressed and tired, but he needed him to understand why he was doing this.
He made the boy don a disguise so 'the Death Eaters can't recognize you' and led the way to the street. The trip to the Department of Transportation was uneventful. Harry had managed to transfigure some twigs he found into a new pair of glasses. They were a welcome change to the constant blurred world he lived in even if they weren't perfect. Professor McGonnagal would be proud.
When they entered the offices, a large man reminding Harry of an even more pompous Fudge shook Javen's hand. "So nice to see you," he grinned, "You are the Auror the Ministry of Magic sent, I take it?"
"I am, Sir."
"And who is this?" the man looked over at Harry curiously. Even though the boy couldn't have been 2 feet in front of him, the enchantments around him prevented the man from seeing anyone other than a normal boy.
"My son, Jonathan. Now if you don't mind, Mr. O'Donnal, I would like to get this over with."
"Oh, of course. Right this way, Mr. Granby." Harry sent a questioning look at Javen, but was shrugged off. Jonathan? Auror Granby? Since when did Javen need an alias? It must be because he was the guardian of Harry. The boy felt a wave of embarrassment and shame that it was because of him that so many people had to adjust their lives. With the Death Eaters in constant pursuit of him, anyone with him was in immediate danger. It had already happened one too many times and he did not want to see it happen again.
Early on in the meeting, Harry could tell that it was not going in the direction Javen wanted it to. Mr. O'Donnal felt that immigration should be restricted to Muggle transport only while Javen stated that the Ministry wanted free transportation between countries.
Just as Harry thought the ill-fated meeting was at an end, the Irish representative started agreeing with Javen's ideas. Of course there should be free transportation. I shall see that it is brought before our Department Head at once. It is a good plan, why didn't we think of it before?
Harry was astounded that the meeting had taken such a quick turnaround. He guessed that Javen performed some sort of spell that planted these ideas into O'Donnal's head, but he didn't know how. It had to be similar to the Imperius Curse though, by the way the Irish man was acting. But would Javen do that? Surely spells like that weren't even legal, let alone proper to use at a meeting. After that, the meeting went much faster and it was wrapped up swiftly. Javen and Harry were soon led out the door and back onto the busy street.
Harry had said nothing since leaving the hideout, but he knew Javen knew what was bothering him. He always did.
"You are wondering how I got the representative to agree with me so fast?" It was hardly even a question.
"Well, yeah," he felt strangely embarrassed to have questions at all. His first lesson in life was to not ask questions. Aunt Petunia had been a good teacher. Javen didn't notice or mind this feeling evident on Harry's face.
"I want you to tell me something, son, and answer me truthfully. When you have the power to change something for the better, is it more wrong to use that power so that justice is served, or to have that power and do nothing?"
Harry thought the answer was obvious, but in his years at Hogwarts, he knew that the obvious choice was not always the best one. After all, wasn't it obvious that Sirius was after him to finish the Dark Lord's work? Wasn't it obvious that Snape was after the Sorcerer's Stone? Wasn't it obvious that Hagrid had raised a monster that killed Moaning Myrtle?
Javen was about to chide Harry for those offending thoughts, but their attention was wavered suddenly. A large hand took hold of Harry's shoulders and spun him around.
"Harry Potter? Is it really you? H—how can you…"
"Who are you?" demanded Javen pulling out his wand. The man never lost his gaze on the boy, his dark eyes as wide as a house elf's. The enchantment around the boy must have failed, leaving them open to scrutiny. Why hadn't Javen known it before? Had anyone else seen him? His blue eyes searched the crowds for anyone else that may have also seen the boy presumed dead. Seeing no one, he returned his gaze to the young man before them. Desperately, he raked his mind to find a way to lose him.
"I'm Auror Granby, Harry. Come with me. I'll take care of you."
'He's a Death Eater, Harry,' a strange urgent voice hissed at him in his mind. Quickly, he ripped himself from the man's grip and stood at Javen's side. He would not be taken to Voldemort. Not again. He would die first.
"Get away from him, Death Eater," hissed Javen pointing his wand at the confused man.
Granby's expression went from relief to alarm, "What are you playing at? I've got to get this boy to the Ministry."
"You're not taking him anywhere." Javen's voice dripped with malice. He could see that the man was unwilling to use his wand on him, so he used it to his advantage. The man, although young, would not be as easy to control with a simple Imperius as the Irish representative. But if he said anymore, Javen feared that Harry would begin to doubt his guardian. He had to go. But how? Again, his eyes scanned their surroundings, searching for a better battleground.
'Harry,' he instructed through their link, 'I want you to disarm the Death Eater. Time to put your practice to use.'
Woodenly, Harry drew his wand. Part of his mind screamed at him not to do this. That an incident like this could very well be avoided without violence. But the other, more rational side told him that if he did not obey Javen, he would be guilty of a true offense. And on top of disobeying his guardian he would be taken to the Dark Lord. So wand in hand, he joined Javen in driving the Auror away from the small masses of people and into an alley where the duel would be much more private.
The Auror reacted too slowly. Javen could tell he was just a rookie by the way he allowed himself to be so easily driven. Probably only in his first year out of apprenticeship. He clumsily avoided the hexes that the two sent his way and fumbled his way through a few of his own. Harry was vaguely reminded of Neville who was only good at Herbology mostly because it neither involved transfigured pincushions nor exploding cauldrons.
Granby slowly but surely found his training coming back to him and he was able to hold his own much better. Trying to talk to these two was impossible, he realized. Perhaps if he could Stun the older one, he could talk Harry out of this mindless attack.
As he was flying hex after hex, Harry wondered if he would be remonstrated for attacking so fiercely. But that strange voice added power to his movements and urged him to go faster and fiercer. He saw the Death Eater aim a shot at Javen and sent a Stunning spell his way before he could stop himself. The Stun hit him dead on and sent him flying among the garbage. With an audible crack, his head hit the brick wall and he went unnaturally still.
He stood there in shocked silence, his wand warm to the touch from all the hexes he performed. Again, half of his mind was screaming at him to do something: run, help him, anything. But the other half was calm and allowed a wave of satisfaction to run through his body. He watched numbly as Javen climbed over to check the man's pulse. He didn't need to be told what he had done. Javen wouldn't want him now. He'd killed a man. He would go to Azkaban like Sirius and he would go mad…
He expected to be yelled at, to be shunned, taken to Azkaban, anything but what happened next. Javen transfigured the body into a dead rat and put it in a trashcan. When he approached Harry again, there was a gleam in his eye that the boy decided he didn't like. A gleam reminiscent of Javen's look right after they performed the Contiosa.
"You have so much power, Harry," he praised, "Quick reflexes, a level head, and perfect aim. I am so proud of you! Well done!"
"Well done… I killed a man! I killed him!" Harry shouted through his tears. "Don't you understand? They're going to put me in Azkaban! I killed him!"
"Harry!" Javen's suddenly angry shout was enough to drive the boldness out of Harry's voice, "He was a Death Eater. You killed him in self-defense."
"I killed a man, Father. I'm a murderer," Harry whispered.
Javen took him by his shoulders, "You are what I say you are. And I say you are not a murderer. Do not argue with me. Ever. Now, let's go home before any of his friends come looking for him."
As Harry allowed himself to be led away, his worry was left behind with the dead rat in the trash. Warmth suddenly spread from his head to his toes. That was one less Death Eater. And being praised by his father felt good…
* * *
Sirius allowed himself to be dragged down the stairs by his leash. Wormtail had recently drugged him with a Sloth Potion. No doubt Snape had made it for him. Peter never could pass Potions without the Marauders covering for him all the time.
Apparently, there was a big meeting going on upstairs in the Riddle living room and Peter didn't want Sirius to cause any more trouble in his quarters. Thus the new arrangements in the dungeon. Sirius didn't know why Wormtail even put up with him. He did not make a very good slave. The other Death Eaters certainly didn't like Peter any more than they did before. If anything, they put him on a whole level lower than Sirius, if that was even possible. He couldn't be a very good hostage if everyone thought he was dead. All in all, Sirius was much more trouble than he was worth.
"And you'd better not cause any more trouble, Padfoot," spat Peter turning on his heel. Sirius snorted at the retreating form of Wormtail to let him know just what he felt about the rat ordering him around. He was too drugged up to do much else so he paced around as much as he could. It was no longer any use to tell himself to be patient. It had been about 2 weeks since the attack on Manticore's Den and where did patience get him? A dead godson and life in the hands of a rat who knew exactly how to keep a big black dog captive.
There weren't going to be any 'right moments'. Peter had him in complete control and would either kill him or keep him around as he felt. The place was too heavily guarded and no one would think to find him here if what Snape had said was right. He was dead to the world and there would be no rescue parties. It was easier to escape Azkaban for crying out loud! Or maybe it wasn't that.
If he only had a purpose to escape he might have found a way. But what motivation was there? There was no godson to protect. And if Remus ever saw him… he would hate him for what he did. Or for what he didn't do. For the first time since being orphaned at school, Remus had a real legal family, albeit a small one. For two glorious weeks, Remus was a real godfather despite strong anti-werewolf feelings throughout the wizarding world. And Sirius took that away from him by not protecting Harry. Why couldn't he do anything right?
He tried to amuse himself with visions of different ways to kill and cook a rat, but try as he might, he couldn't make himself forget like he could before. The drugs were beginning to wear off and he was enjoying the images of Remus and Harry. God, how he missed them…
A soft sound snapped him out of his reverie. Small feet were descending the wooden stairs. Sirius could hear a slight whimper and a struggle not to cry. He could smell slightly burnt flesh with a pinch of blood. He could smell new robes and relatively clean skin. He could feel the fear and confusion that filled the air of the cells like it was his own. He knew who it was before they passed him.
No one was allowed to leave the meetings no matter how much pain they were in. Draco must have fled to be alone the moment the meeting ended. No doubt he was placed under the Cruciatus Curse and a few others. Perhaps he had made a saucy remark at the wrong time? Or maybe he was just an example to any other initiates. Either way, the Dark Lord had made it clear who was in charge and who was left to kiss the hem of his robes. He painfully rubbed his Dark Mark tattoo and favored his right leg.
Sirius had heard stories from Harry about the boy and if he was anything like his father, then Draco was a monstrous boy. But even that could not stop Sirius from feeling pity toward him. His eyes were full of fear and confusion. 'Not so sure now that you made the right choice? Gotten in a little over your head, eh?' Sirius thought, 'And if you make a mistake, your own father won't lift a finger to save you.'
Draco paused when he passed Sirius' cell. He was unusually pale and his normally slicked-back hair was messed up. He narrowed his eyes at the dog as though it had insulted him. The familiar 'Malfoy glare' darkened his face, but the fear still glowed in his eyes.
"What are you looking at, dog?" he demanded weakly, "Haven't you ever seen a Death Eater before?" The boy's voice was full of haughty pride at his new title. Yes, he was all Malfoy.
Sirius could not and did not say anything. His underused mind was beginning to turn. Plans and ideas mulled over in his brain. Maybe he didn't need that git Snape afterall…
"Are you really Sirius Black?" Draco asked, not so hostile. Hostility seemed to take up too much energy that he did not have. Sirius nodded and wagged his tail slightly. He padded up to his cell door slowly so as not to unnerve the child.
"It must suck to be stuck as a dog," the boy continued.
Sirius gave a dog-smile. 'You have no idea, kid.'
"I didn't believe them when they told me what happened. After all, they'd tried it so many times and I knew Wormtail couldn't lift his wand right and…" He bit his lip. It was obvious that something was bothering him. And he didn't look so good. He was becoming paler by the minute, "I didn't know it would be like this." He rubbed his Dark Mark again nervously. He no longer looked like the school bully whom Harry was always complaining about. He was just a boy who had gotten in way over his head. No matter what he said or what his father tried, he was not Death Eater material and probably never would be.
Draco looked at Sirius again, "I'm one to talk. You're the one who's stuck as a dog for that bloody rat." Sirius wagged his tail again in response. He could feel the boy warming up to him. "My father would gut him if he wouldn't get in trouble for it if that makes you feel any better. Why don't you just leave?"
'Hmm… why didn't I think of that? Maybe it's because I'm LOCKED UP!'
He snorted at Draco who smirked, "I thought you were the master of escape."
'Even Houdini needed some help time from time.'
"Draco!" The elder Malfoy's voice roared through the dungeon. Draco jumped at the sound of the voice. Sirius didn't miss the expression of fear that once again flitted across the boy's face before it was cleverly hidden away. He mentally frowned. Afraid of his own father…
"Yes, father?" Draco's voice drawled in the same bored fashion as Sirius remembered Lucius using when insulting the Marauders.
"What are you doing down here?" demanded Lucius, looking suspiciously at Sirius.
"Nothing," Draco's voice lost the bored drawl, "Just walking around."
"In the dungeon? What were you doing?" His tone got harsher and his son winced.
"I—I was curious. I wanted to see if the dog was really Black."
"Why?"
"No reason. I just thought that if he survived… and escaped, then he could give away our hiding place. I was making sure he couldn't get out. He escaped from Azkaban, didn't he?"
Sirius was impressed by the lie… and a little surprised. Was Draco actually wondering if Harry had escaped too? It might have been even bordering on concern. Sirius prided himself on not missing a beat and he knew a lying Malfoy when he saw one.
Lucius accepted the lie and ordered his son upstairs. Giving Sirius one of his own patented 'Malfoy glares' second only to the 'Snape Sneer', he followed Draco out of the dungeon.
Sirius was to learn as the days went on, that he would not be taken out of the dungeon and that Draco would be visiting him often. Sometimes he would bring scraps of food he had managed to swipe off the table. In return, Sirius would sit quietly and listen to the boy talk. He did not think Draco was actually warming up to him, Sirius Black, former godfather to his nemesis. It was more like the boy was confused with his new role and felt like a prisoner. What better way to lose himself than in the dungeon with a fellow prisoner who didn't beat or torture him and who couldn't repeat his secrets?
* * *
Harry lazily floated a pencil in midair. He didn't know why Javen was making him practice this. He had been able to do this since his first year at Hogwarts. But nevertheless, he was told to practice levitation for two hours. During this time, he allowed himself to daydream. Javen was working on something in the other room, probably something for the Ministry. Surely he wouldn't mind.
His eyes floated to the fireplace. He longed to be able to talk to someone. Javen said that the Ministry reported about him to the public as hiding, so there was no need to worry and no one knew exactly where he was. But he knew Ron and Hermione would worry anyway. And he wanted to talk to Dumbledore and Remus. It was boring to be stuck inside all day and night with no outside contact with the world. Javen talked to Dumbledore and Fudge often to let them know how they were, or so he told Harry. It was always while the boy was sleeping, so he never heard the conversations.
A hard object struck him in the face, knocking him out of his whimsical memories of the people he missed. He fell out of his chair with the force of the blow. When he looked up, he saw Javen's angry face over him. He repeated his physical blow with a mental one, leaving both Harry's face and mind smarting.
"I thought I told you to practice levitation, not daydream about Sirius. You disobeyed me." Harry hadn't known he was even thinking of the forbidden Padfoot, until he wiped the memory of his fantastic rescue flight on Buckbeak away. He sat up from his sprawled position to face Javen.
"But…"
Javen slapped him again and repeated his mental blow. Harry shrunk back, holding his hand up to his cheek. No one, not even the Dursleys had ever used physical punishment on him before. Sure they threatened him a few times, and was used as a punching bag by Dudley more than once, but he was never struck like that before.
"Never speak back to me, Harry! I am your father and you will obey me."
"I—I'm sorry, Father. I didn't…"
"Not only that, you compared your other 'teachers' and me again. You know I don't approve of that. You will ask me for my forgiveness."
Part of Harry's mind rebelled at having to apologize for something that he didn't even think was wrong. Why was it so horrible to think about Sirius and the others? But the other part that was always trying to soothe him from his rebellious spirit told him that he must obey Javen or he would be in real trouble. Besides, whether he understood the reasons for the order or not, the order still stood and it was his duty to obey.
"Do it now, Harry! Perhaps I should report to Dumbledore that your rebellion is becoming quite appalling." He had hit a nerve and he knew it. The last thing Harry wanted was a bad report to Dumbledore. The man had given him more chances than was probably appropriate and championed his cause more than once. He bowed his head to Javen obediently.
"I'm sorry I spoke back to you, Father. I was wrong."
Javen put his hand on the boy's head, "Forgiven." He sighed deeply, "I am not a harsh man, Harry. But I expect obedience and will punish defiance severely. I do not wish to cause you pain and I know it isn't easy. What can I do to help you move on, son? You are not even trying to get past Sirius."
Harry couldn't deny it. He could not and would not block Sirius from his memories. He was the best thing that happened to him in a long time. He was a parent, a best friend, and a teacher; as close and dear to him as Ron and Hermione.
"I forbid you to ever think of him again," Javen finished.
"Father?" Harry's head shot up in shock.
"You are not focusing like you should. When you are properly trained in the ways of the great wizard you are to be, it will be safe for you to think of him. It is for the best."
"But I can't just forget him!" burst Harry, not noticing that he was doing exactly what he had just finished apologizing for. "If I put him out of my mind and heart, then I'll lose him completely and dishonor his memory."
"You dishonor it now by acting like a child. You will obey me. Understood?" He sent another wave of pain through Harry's mind. "Is this understood?"
"Please, don't. He meant so much to me," Harry whispered. He made no apology for his thoughts this time. If wanting to keep Sirius alive in his heart meant that he was rebellious, then he was. Javen could feel his defiance and frowned.
"Very well then, I see you are going to be fighting me at every turn. Hold your hands out, Harry."
Puzzled, Harry stood up and did what he was told. Javen summoned a strip of flexi steel ribbing. He brought it down the boy's hands sharply, creating a large red welt. Harry yelped in pain and quickly retracted his hands to his chest. "I said hold them out. Perhaps it was wrong of me to take you in. Perhaps you would like to go back to the Dursleys. If I cannot instill any discipline in you, it seems to be best to give you to someone who can."
Reluctantly, Harry held out his hand to Javen's steel ribbing. Javen laid into him with a steady, calm determination. He did not stop until he drew blood. Harry tried to block out the pain, but Javen's mental presence told him to not block it out; it was a lesson he had to learn.
Finally, Javen gave the last hard stroke of the steel ribbing, now stained with bright blood. Harry pulled his hands into his chest painfully, trying to make the burning feeling leave them. He vaguely registered the fact that Javen had laid a hand on his hunched shoulder as he was fond of doing. His mind felt that with the beating, a part of him was being ripped away. He had lost his last connections to Sirius. But every time he tried to analyze the feelings of 'wrongness' that filled him, a soothing lullaby drifted throughout his mind, making him want to trust Javen and please him.
"Please don't hate me for this," he said sorrowfully, "Punishing you is just as awful for me as it is for you. I told you I will punish disobedience, Harry. Don't make me ever do this again. All I ask is for your faith and trust in me and my desicions." He let his words sift into Harry's mind, making him feel sincerity and warmth. "Now every time you move your hands, you will remember the need for obedience." Harry curled and uncurled his raw and bleeding fingers, causing fire to jump up and down his arm. It would definitely remind him. Why was he so disobedient? Why did he push Javen into doing something that drastic to make him listen? Remorse spread through him and he apologized for his immaturity.
Javen then gave Harry back his wand from where it had fallen. The familiar and soothing grip of the wand was now an agonizing one. Javen made Harry practice his dueling spells for hours into the night. Soon enough all Harry could think of was the difficult spells and Javen's instructions, struggling to remain on his feet as the evening wore on. And that was exactly what Javen wanted.
That night, as he tried to go to sleep, Harry held his smarting hands to his chest. He tried to ignore the agony of them, but he could not. Javen refused to let him treat the wounds. It was a punishment that could not be forgotten easily. A bitter chill swept through the building, biting at him mercilessly. He snuggled deeper into his covers, trying to escape the Irish cold. However, Harry could not drive the coldness of his spirit as easily as his body.
And for the first time since the beating, Harry found himself thinking about Hogwarts and all the people he met there. He was so lonely. And when the usual memory of Sirius, healthy and happy, came to him, he was forced to banish it quickly before Javen woke up and punished him again.
He longed to talk to anyone; even Malfoy would be a welcome change. Soon, all the loneliness, pain, and anguish overcame him. For the second time in as many weeks, he cried himself sick, and then to sleep.
End Part 5
Lily Skylo: Draco? Oh… you'll see ;) In stories with him in it, he is either portrayed as a good guy or a bad guy so I figure… why not split the difference? And I can't help but love Snape despite how I portray him. Gotta love the redeeming sinners. As for Peter, heck, I even have a soft spot for him. I must be some kind of sadist or something. Harry and Sirius do all the suffering while I barely give the villains much grief at all. Go figure! Oh, you hate Javen now… trust me, he hasn't even started. Just read some of darkphoenix's reviews. She's a special 'fan' of his. And don't worry about Remus. I'll give him a hug for you. He comes back later on. And of course he's always a close second ;)
Darkphoenix4: Really different? I don't think so. I added some new short scenes in the beginning started with the Weasleys and ending with Remus' reactions. I had always meant to in the original, but never got around to it. What do you remember? It's possible I changed more than I thought. And ya gotta love Snape! You're probably right that he would tell Dumbledore though. I just thought that since in the 3rd book even when he knew Sirius was innocent he was perfectly happy with both him and Remus getting their souls sucked out, he wouldn't particularly care that Sirius was a POW instead of dead. But I do think that eventually, Snape would tell Dumbledore. He just never got the opportunity. Yeah, I never really thought of what Sirius would do. Hm… that's an interesting thought in it. I'd have to say I agree with you on that one. Oh and seriously, the Tues. evening after I posted, I twisted my ankle in marching band practice. Was that your bad karma attacking me? I'll give Javen another kick in the butt for you though since I do torture him enough as it is. I do apologize again for doing it last minute and cheating you into reviewing. There's a mad crazy test thing we umass kids have to take that they call the O.W.L.'s. No kidding! It's here: www.owl.oit.umass/edu/ that link should work if you're curious. They're as much a pain in the butt as Harry's and I sincerely feel his pain. :_(
Lady Arwen of Rivendell: Hehe thanks, matey! I'm glad you like the new scenes. I wanted to put them in the original but they didn't make the final cut. Don't worry, you know how it turns out. Those two will be alright in the end. Yeah, a little worse for wear, but still in one relative piece.
Someone Reading: With a sour sweet wind at my back, the briny sea at my front, and a blanket of stars at my head, I'll follow ye to Never Neverland! Ignore me ^_^. It's 2 in the morning. 0_0* You should have a torture fest with darkphoenix. Between you two, you guys would put Helga's House of Torture to shame. Liver on a toast?! Blood and guts?! Cannabalism?! *hides Snape, Peter, and Javen under bed * Hun, I think you need to stop reading this, it may not be good for your health. Jk. Uh… yeah… hehe… tea is nice… tea is your friend… *totally scared * btw, why are you mad at Albus? You can Witch slap me if you want. Darkphoenix is already hexing off my feet and threatening to kill me in my sleep. Why not you too? Besides, it is kinda my fault ya'll are getting upset.
Calimora: It's right here ^_^ Enjoy!