Disclaimed
Author's note: Sorry this is taking so long. L School is hard and full of midterms. When in doubt its bubble "B" right?
The Basement
By Marz
Chapter 25: Bad News is Usually Accurate
I wasn't exactly surprised to learn I'd been knocked out in an unfortunately over enthusiastic post game group hug. It did worry me a bit that nobody noticed I was unconscious until they took the team picture, and couldn't get me to hold the Quidditch Cup up straight.
When I woke up, my head still hurt, and my ears were ringing a little bit. That may have been a valid reason to keep me in the hospital Saturday night, but Sunday was nearly over and Madam Pomfrey still refused to let me go. Well, she told me I could walk out the door, but there was a horrible condition attached.
I rolled over again and pulled up my blankets, to make certain anything the opened-back, too small hospital robes didn't cover was not in view. She'd taken all my other clothes, and charmed the blankets and sheets, so I couldn't pull them off the bed. If I made a run for it, I'd have to do it with the back half of my birthday suit exposed. I'm beginning to think Pomfrey was in Slytherin when she attended school. She wouldn't let me have any visitors either. She even put a curtain around my bed so I couldn't see the people who came in with actual injuries. I thought that was just petty of her. As I tried to fall asleep again, the door creaked open and I heard Ron's voice.
"Madam Pomfrey, could we please talk to Harry for just five minutes. He really needs to…"
She cut off Ron's plea. "Potter needs to rest and you were warned not to come in here again. I am giving you a detention Mr. Weasley. Potter will be allowed to leave when both I and the headmaster are convinced that he is well enough."
"But he needs to know about Azkaban!"
"Another detention! Out!"
"But…"
"OUT!"
I heard the nurse rushing to the door, and Ron's fleeing foot steps. There was a loud click as the door slammed shut. I closed my eyes and struggled to hear what was going on in the rest of the school.
The white curtain around my bed rustled in the light breeze. I could hear the nurse's shoes scraping across the floor at the far end of the room, and distantly I could hear other students, talking in low and fearful whispers as they passed the doors of the hospital wing. Their words were too faint to make out. I knew they were talking about something important. I was sure "Sirius Black" was being mentioned, whether I could hear it or not.
Azkaban, I almost wished Ron hadn't dropped that awful clue in my lap. It was becoming apparent that my health was not the reason behind my imposed isolation, and it was making me more then a little bit mad. I put my hand to my chin just to make certain I wasn't drooling again. There was another click, and I was pretty sure that sound was Pomfrey closing her office door. If she didn't let me out in another hour, I'd have to make a run for Gryffindor tower, bare bum be damned.
I didn't have a watch with me so I tried to keep track of the time by counting seconds. I got through three minutes before I started to nod off. Don't be fooled. Counting seconds is a hundred times more effective at inducing unconsciousness then counting sheep.
I couldn't tell what woke me at first. The room was dark except for a faint orange glow from the wall sconces. My head was cloudy with sleep, but I remembered my original plan of escape. I gave the blankets a tug, but they weren't coming with me. I'd just put my bare feet on the floor when I heard it; cloth dragging across the stones. Pomfrey's coming to check on me. I slid back into bed, pulled up the covers as quietly as I could, and pretended to sleep. The dragging sound came right to the edge of the curtains and paused. A deep rattling breath cut through the silence.
My eyes felt as if they were bulging out of my head as I rolled over. Every muscle was taught in an effort to keep the bed from creaking. My heart pounded in my ears. I tried to breathe more quietly. The figure silhouetted against the curtains slowly ran its long fingers across them, until it came to the edge, and curled around it.
It occurred to me, even as I was screaming bloody murder, that a dementor would have made the room noticeably cold, and would not smell as if it had been attacked by numerous competing perfume sales girls at the mall. A dementor was also unlikely to shriek right back at me and fall across the foot of my bed in an avalanche of costume jewelry and scarves. The only good thing I can say about it is that I frightened her as badly as she got me.
"Excuse me dear," said Professor Trelawney, putting a hand to her chest and struggling to catch her breath. "I was just looking for the nurse."
"Why would she be in my bed?" I pulled up the blankets as I spoke.
The divinations teacher got back to her feet and adjusted her outfit. "I foresaw she would be by the side of her patient," she said stiffly.
"Maybe you should try her office first, next time."
Her mouth twitched for a second, but she continued to stand by my bed. "The universe is in turmoil and the clairvoyant vibrations are giving me a most retched pain." As she spoke the Divinations Professor put the back of her wrist to her forehead and went into a well practiced swoon. "I was hoping Madame Pomfrey would be able to give me some sort of potion. I fear a great danger is coming, and I must be well enough to search the mist of the future, for I see…I…see…"
Her chin suddenly dropped against her chest and the air left her lungs in one shuddering gasp. She was absolutely still except for the light clinking of her necklaces as she breathed in again, slowly and evenly, as if she had fallen asleep.
"Are you alright?" I asked.
She didn't answer. Can a witch be narcoleptic? It was probably just part of her act, but I thought I should get Madam Pomfrey all the same. Just to be sure she wasn't faking it; I took the pillow off my bed, and whacked her on the head with it, as hard as I could. Her glasses were knocked a little crooked, but she didn't react. I slid out of bed, keeping my back to the wall, and inched past the still professor, towards the nurse's office. The hospital door was closed, but I kept to the wall just the same, in case any other professors decided to burst in. It took forever to side step around the perimeter of the entire hospital main room, but when it comes to avoiding public nudity, I'm doggedly persistent. I looked up every few steps, but Trelawney stood in the exact same place. I finally worked my way to the office door, and raised my arm to knock. A hand closed over my wrist.
Trelawney was no more then a foot in front of my face. She'd moved without a sound. Her eyes were opened but they were rolling around in her head. Her mouth opened and she took another deep rattling breath. I tried to pull my arm free, to no avail.
"It is too late," she growled a horse voice.
"What?" I redoubled my efforts to free my arm, but her grip didn't loosen in the slightest. Her eyes rolled faster and I had a terrible idea that they were seconds away from flying right out of her skull.
"Too late will they see the truth. The legions of the Dark Lord walk free once more. His most faithful shall offer up to him the blood of his enemy and the Dark Lord shall rise again, but in his rising he shall be forever bound to the one he marked. His wrath shall not be stayed, and death shall be a blessing. His most loyal shall cut out the enemy's heart, and leave him to the darkness. When… the end comes…five summers hence… the Dark Lord shall seize his enemy, and there shall be no mercy…death…shall…leave…but one."
"Sibyll! What in blazes are you doing?"
I hadn't heard the nurse leave her office, but I was glad her timing was only slightly off.
"She won't let go!" I said with another exemplary tug. Of course this time my hand came free right away, and I landed on the very cold stone floor. I scrambled up again right away, and put my back to the wall.
Professor Trelawney was blinking rapidly as if she'd just been poked in the eye. "Oh dear, I must have dozed off or a moment."
"You were grabbing a student and shouting something about death," Pomfrey said in her most powerfully disapproving manner.
"Oh! You must have misheard me. I would never do any such thing." She looked at me as if I could confirm her statement.
I stared back, open mouthed. "You said Voldemort is coming back!" The nurse and the professor both jumped as I said the "V" word. "You said it was too late and that the legions of the Dark Lord were free again, then you said something about getting blood and someone's heart and that death was going to leave one! You said…"
"I could not have said that!"
"Yes you did! You said…"
"Harry if you would please calm down," said a quiet voice from the doorway.
I don't know how he knew something was happening in here, but he definitely knew what was going outside, and he had no right to keep me here under false pretenses. I turned to face Dumbledore, ready to glare down any attempts at appeasement. I was about to fire off my thousands of angry questions when there was a gasp from behind me. I turned back again. Professor Trelawney was goggling at me, and Madam Pomfrey was almost laughing.
"What?" I asked, turning to look around the room again.
"Madam Pomfrey," Dumbledore said, "if you would be so kind as to find Mr. Potter some proper outerwear, I think we shall continue this conversation in my office."
Upon our arrival in his office the first sentence out of my mouth was, unsurprisingly, a request to drop divinations class. He waved me toward a chair, and I sat down after a quick look around for rats.
"But why would you wish to end your studies in Divinations?" asked the headmaster, as he seated himself behind his desk.
Because I couldn't stand to be in the same classroom as someone I'd accidentally mooned? I didn't say that out loud of course, as Dumbledore was already having too much fun at my expense. It seemed as good a time as any to put the focus back on my real question.
"Ron tried to get into the hospital earlier, to tell me something about Azkaban." I found my anger evaporate as I spoke. I was too frightened of Dumbledore's answers. "What…did they…I mean…did they get Sirius?" My voice was shaking as I said the last part.
"As far as I know Mr. Black is not in Ministry custody, but beyond that I have no information to give you Harry. This may seem impertinent to you, but all the same I must ask." The headmaster paused to adjust his glasses. "Did Sirius Black ever tell you, even in jest, that he was going to return to Azkaban?"
My mouth dropped open. "Of course not!"
"Did he, at anytime, express an intention to kill the Death Eaters who remain in Ministry custody?"
"No!" A punch in the stomach would have felt comparatively good at this time. "What's Sirius done?"
"I can tell you only the information I have gathered from others. By the time Minister Fudge informed me of the situation, it was over. It is too late."
"The legions of the Dark Lord walk free once more." The words tumbled out of my mouth, and I felt cold. "Trelawney said…I thought she was making it up, like usual."
The look Dumbledore gave at that moment could have bored a hole right through my head. "Harry, you must tell me exactly what she said."
"But what about…"
"I will tell you all I know about Mr. Black's situation, but I must know what occurred with Professor Trelawney."
I didn't have any reason to feel guilty, but I couldn't help it as the headmaster continued to stare. I must have repeated my story eight times before Dumbledore was satisfied that he had every detail. He looked as if he was about to throw me out of his office, so I asked again.
"What's Sirius done?"
*****
It was the first time Hedwig failed. When I first saw her coming towards the window of the dormitory, I thought she had found Sirius, even though the rest of Wizarding world had failed, but the paper clutched in her claws was only a news paper. She fluttered through the window, and dropped the new paper into the steadily growing pile at the end of my bed. Though no one had seen Sirius Black in over a week, he was still in firm control of every front page.
I threw Hedwig an owl treat, and unrolled the newest issue of the Evening Forecast, which sported the headline:
Survivors Tell All: Black Death Comes to Azkaban.
Under it lay a picture of the island. Gray waves splashed against a gray stony shore, over which loomed a blacked cliff of volcanic rock. The faintest hints of barred windows were visible, carved into the shear face of the cliff. I had eight other pictures of the island, and this latest one didn't show me anything I didn't already know.
Though the pictures in the Forecast were not as good as those featured in the Daily Prophet, I'd learned that the articles were much less prone to sensationalism. Hermione insisted I use that word. She seemed to think "sensationalism" was better then "huge stinking lies made up by cowardly bottom feeding reporters who are full of…of Dragon dung." Anyway the Forecast didn't beat me over the head with wild theories about "Black's plans for world domination" or "the real target of the Azkaban Massacre."
The first article in the Forecast actually gave me some hope. The reporter, Bethany Sliverfoot, managed to interview one of the two surviving wardens, and the only surviving muggle. I finished the rest of the paper, and then went through it with my scissors, to sift out the information worth keeping. I discarded the shreds of the original, and went to the folder where I kept the important stuff. With Silverfoot's article, I had an almost complete picture of how it happened.
The Evening Forecast; Saturday, the tenth of June.
Benjamin Archer's Tale of Survival
By Bethany Sliverfoot
Even around Azkaban, early June weather is hot. Humid mist rises around the rocky island, cloaking it even more deeply from the sight of the outside world. The guards of Azkaban may not mind the extra layer of obscurity, but on Saturday, the third of June, it had the wardens concerned. The Dementors do not think about the future. They do not worry about the workings of the world, so long as they have souls from which to feed. They do not strive or plan and the only force holding them to their rigid and secure patrols are the wizard wardens of the island. Thought the Ministry was certain they had the Dementors well in hand, they were not quite confident enough to leave them unsupervised. When the cloud of fog grew so thick that it hid the shallow water markers from sight, Benjamin Archer knew something was wrong.
"I went down to the shore, with the intention of summoning up a breeze to clear the view. At first I couldn't believe what I was hearing. It was a deep chugging sound, like hundreds of kettles over boiling at once, and it took me several more moments to realize it was some sort of muggle engine. It could not have been happening. Muggle devices don't work within a league of Azkaban. Their motorized boats go dead in the water and the current carries them back toward the mainland. I tried to tell myself it was a trick of the weather, but the sound was growing louder and undeniable.
"I called down Nathan MacNash and John Fleetwood, the other wardens on duty, and we were getting the brooms, to fly out and turn the ship around, when there was the most god awful clatter. There was a renting sound, like a giant tearing open metal gates. We flew down the shore a little ways and found the ship. It was one of those large muggle fishing vessels, with a mechanical crane on the back to lift up nets full of fish. It had run aground and there was huge hole in the side of it, at least five yards across, and half that high. The hole couldn't have been caused in the crash, the metal was bent outward.
"I knew then it was some kind of prison break. Muggles never try to fish near Azkaban. The waters are as haunted as the island. We had our wands out, waiting for trouble. There was a scream, a woman, and then smoke poured from the ship. Muggles came scrambling out the open side like rats. They ran in all directions, some came at us, some ran to the water and tried to swim. They panicked. There must have been at least fifty of them. They were so frightened…"
At this point Mr. Archer pauses to rub the bridge of his nose. His eyes are haunted as he speaks again.
"The Dementors must have felt them coming a mile away. All those terrified people. We commanded them to remain in the building, but they came rushing out onto the shore. The muggles couldn't see them. Some ran right into their arms. I'll never forget the screaming. The Dementors even chased the ones who tried to swim for it. They glided out over the water in some unholy parody and scooped the muggles out. Some of them tried to hold their breath and hide under the water. I saw an elderly woman dive beneath the surface. She never came up again. Maybe that was for the best.
"The Dementors came towards us as well. They would not stop. They ignored our commands. Only four of the muggles reached us, begging for help, for mercy. The rest were caught. I can create a corporeal Patronus. You have to be able too, before they let you on the island, as a warden I mean. There were so many of them though. We could barely summon a mist to keep them away.
"They were out of control. There was nothing more we could do. We backpedaled towards the prison. When we got inside, MacNash sealed the entrance. The Dementors that were already outside would not be able to get back in, but I knew there were still some inside with us. Jeremiah Burke, the administrator, was in the main office and I had him send a Floo call to the Ministry, telling them what had happened. They said help was on the way, but it would be an hour at least. You can't apparate onto or off of Azkaban, and the Floo network is for communication only.
"MacNash, Fleetwood, and I went over our options. We couldn't leave the island unguarded, but we had to get the muggles out of there. We agreed that using the emergency Portkeys was our best bet. The Portkeys would drop the muggles right in the middle of the Atrium in the Ministry building, and the Obliviators could take care of them from there. The trouble was the Portkeys only work outside the island's security wards, so we'd either have to make the muggles swim beyond them, or take them out to the end of the main dock on the other side of the island. Either way we'd have to go outside again.
"I sent Fleetwood and Burke to do a quick sweep of the main corridors, to make sure none of the prisoners had gotten out while we were down on the shore. Fleetwood headed for the high security block first. It was the last time I saw him alive.
"MacNash went down to the vault to get the emergency portkeys and I was left alone, guarding the Muggles. There were three men and one woman, young looking, and they didn't seem to know each other. They just looked at me with frightened expressions, and when I finally spoke to them they jumped.
"They couldn't remember how they ended up on the boat. Dolores, the woman, said that she'd been shopping in Trafalgar Square when she heard a popping sound. She turned towards it and there was a flash of red light. She woke up in the hold of the fishing boat, surrounded by strangers. They'd tried to get out, but the doors to the hold were locked. About an hour after she woke up the ship ran aground. A man appeared, short and wearing a black robe with a white mask. He pointed a wand and the side of the hull and it just ripped itself open. The black robed man ordered them to get out, but they were too frightened to move. When no one obeyed, the man pointed his wand at them and a blast of fire came flying at them. They ran outside and the invisible things attacked them.
"I knew then that we were dealing with Death Eaters. I used a voice amplification charm to call down to Burke and Fleetwood. Burke called back that he hadn't seen any sign of them. Fleetwood didn't answer. I was about to go to the high security block when MacNash's voice came echoing through the halls. He said he was pinned down in vault, by at least ten wizards. I was going to leave the muggles locked up in the office, but they wouldn't hear of it, and to be honest it wouldn't be that much safer. I let them come along, and as we were going out into the hall, one of the men, I can't remember his name, noticed MacNash's golf bag, behind his desk. The muggles each insisted on taking a club with them. I didn't think it would do them any good, but it kept them moving.
"We met up with Burke in the hall outside the vault. Everything had gone quiet, and nobody wanted to stick there head around the corner to see. One of the muggles had a good idea though. He used the shiny blade of the putter as a little mirror, to see what was what. He turned pale and handed the putter over to me.
"MacNash was dead and they didn't use anything as clean as the killing curse on him. He was splattered across the doorway of the vault, and I could see the Portkey's were gone. The Death Eaters must have been heading for the main dock rather then the grounded boat. Burke and I knew we'd have little chance of stopping them, but we ran for the dock all the same. I didn't realize the muggles were still following us until we were at the entrance doors, which were hanging open.
"One of the muggle men asked me if there was anything out there. I told him probably. I could hear the water hitting the shore, and nothing else. We used the golf club trick again, and as far as we could see it was clear. We jogged down the shore. The near end of the dock came into view, but the far end was hidden in mist. I thought we were too late, but then one of the muggles shouted.
"A blast of green light came at us from between the pilings of the dock, and another blast came from behind an outcropping of rock at the base of the cliffs. Burke and I threw ourselves to the ground, but the muggles didn't catch on fast enough. Two of the men were hit, and fell to the ground, dead and surprised.
"More curses came flying at us and we tried to fight back, but we were pinned by the crossfire. We'd all have been killed if the Dementors hadn't shown up right then. The blasts from the base of the cliff cut off instantly and three of the prisoners went running for the dock. I managed to stun the last one, but the curses from under the dock forced me to duck again. The Dementors fell upon the one I'd stunned. They were coming towards us as well, but Burke summoned his Patronus, and they kept their distance. I always used to tease him about it. His Patronus is a mangy little cat with a missing ear. I'll never do it again though.
"I was focused on the dock and Burke was keeping our souls safe, but I'd left my back unguarded. If it hadn't been for the muggles, well…I owe them my life to be honest, them, and their golf clubs. I should have known the Death Eaters would have a few more tricks up their sleeves, but I didn't expect an Animagus.
"Azkaban is crawling with roaches and rats, and when I saw one coming towards us I ignored it. It went right past me. A second later I heard a pop. I was still turning as I saw the small gray rat expand into a masked Death Eater, ten feet behind me, wand already aimed at my head. The muggle man, I remember his name now, Andrew Pauling, stood up and threw his golf club. It knocked the Death Eaters arm off target, and the woman, Dolores, charged him. She was screaming the whole time, pounding away at him with a nine iron. She broke his wand in half and hit him in the head so many times blood soaked through one side of his mask. Andrew yelled at her to duck, but she was deaf to us. A green light hit her in the back. She's the only person I've seen die with an angry expression frozen on their face by the killing curse. The Death Eater turned back into a rat, and ran. Andrew almost got him with a golf club, but not quite.
"Things were looking very bad then. The prisoners broke cover and crawled onto the dock. The Animagus must have brought them all wands, because curses were literally raining down on us. I was praying for all I was worth and trying to protect my face from all the shrapnel they were blasting loose. Through all the noise I heard something else, a high whirring buzz. It was another muggle boat.
"I looked towards the water and for a moment I saw it, through a thin patch in the mist. It was one of those small fast boats, you know, the ones muggles race and crash all the time. I saw who was driving it as well, and I thought we were doomed.
"The boat was hidden in the fog a moment later, but all the prisoners seemed to have noticed it too. I was surprised that they didn't look happy. A second later a red light sent half of them flying into the water. There was shouting and confusion, and another red light sent them running for cover. They jumped off the dock and scrambled back up the shore, trying to find cover from the hail of red and green light falling upon them. Nothing was fired our way, so I assumed we hadn't been seen. I thought our only chance was to get to the dock, and pray they'd dropped a Portkey.
"We crawled along the edge of the water, dragging ourselves along by our elbows. A high surge of water soaked us. My robes felt as if they weighed a ton, and made sounds like someone slapping a fish. The three of us made it to the pilings without drawing fire. We huddled under the dock, searching our meager shelter for a dropped portkey, but our luck had run out. We sat and listened as curses flew back and forth overhead for another half hour.
"There was a pause, and I heard the muggle racing boat pull up to the dock. The engine died, and there was a thump on the wooden planks, as the passenger disembarked. The ominous thump, thump, thump of heavy boots inched towards us, and I could see a shadow, covering the thin strips of light that shown down on us.
"'You don't seem happy to see me Peter!' Black shouted that at the top of his voice and he was half laughing as he did. There was another flash of light and a thump as Black side stepped a curse."
Archer pauses again to shake his head.
"I still can't figure it out. What happened after that doesn't make any sense to me. A blasting curse disintegrated the wooden dock above our heads, and a second later we were staring up at Sirius Black. I might have had a stupid expression on my face, or maybe everything's funny to a mad man, but Black laughed at us as if we were the silliest things in the world. The Expelliarmus curse hit Burke and me at the same time, and our wands flew away. Black looked mildly disappointed as inspected his catch. He sidestepped another curse the prisoners threw at him, looking almost bored as he did so.
"'Come out of there', Black said. I didn't see that we really had a choice. I scrambled out, then crouched down on the dock, incase the prisoners took another shot. Burke came next, shaking. Andrew was looking at us confused. Being a muggle, he didn't know what Black's capable of, and when Black offered him a hand up he actually took it, and said thanks.
"'You know how to drive a power boat?' Black asked the muggle, while ignoring us completely. Andrew nodded. 'Anyone else make it off the fishing boat alive?' Black asked him next. Andrew shook his head. Black held out a set of keys and Andrew took them. 'The boat's at the end of the dock. Go slow till you get out past the rocks. Once you're clear, circle south. There's an English Navel Vessel coming up that way. They should be able to get you home alright.' Andrew nodded again and walked backwards, toward the end of the dock.
"Black looked down at us then. I thought he was going to kill us. I remember the way he stared at us from his cell, during the weeks before he escaped. He had the same expression on his face. He looked disappointed. 'Are you going to help me?' he asked. I thought it was some sort of invitation to join You-Know-Who, and I said no, but now I'm not so certain.
"When he had my answer, he just pointed toward the end of the dock and said 'leave.' Burke and I followed Andrew. We climbed into the muggle boat. Andrew put the key into a little slot, pulled some levels and turned some dials, and the engine roared to life. The boat pulled away from the dock, and the last thing I saw was Black's back, before the mist covered everything. We saw a few flashes of light and heard more blasting as the battle continued. After that we reached the open sea. A Ministry found us a few hours later, and we were taken back to Auror headquarters."
There it was. Dumbledore told me they found four of the escaped prisoners dead on the shore, and the Daily Prophet had later confirmed their identities. Rodolphus Lestrange, Augustus Rookwood, Aloysius Redford, and Lydia McClintock had fallen to Sirius. Eight other prisoners were still unaccounted for, and their names had not been released. The soulless muggles were gathered up, and brought to St. Mungo's hospital, but only twenty were found in all. The Ministry assumed the rest had wandered into the sea and drowned. The Dementors were again acting with complete obedience. I suppose the Ministry thought it was a nice tidy ending.
I couldn't help feeling sick as I thought about it. All those people died, and they never even knew what was happening to them. Their families would never know what happened to them. Their kids could've been left waiting outside their schools, wondering why their moms and dads hadn't driven through the parking lot to pick them up yet. Pettigrew was responsible for all of it.
I went to the window and looked out again, hopping to see a huge black dog sneaking across the lawn, but there was only grass waving softly in the moonlight. I went to my bed and flopped down. I was worried for Sirius, but even more I was angry.
It was all worked out. Dumbledore had agreed to it the week before my most recent transformation. I was going to spend the summer at Grimmauld Place. The Dursleys would never have me if they knew I was a werewolf, and now it was all up in the air. My anger was selfish, I'll admit it, but I deserve a little selfishness every once in a while don't I? Sirius had to go chasing Pettigrew on his own! He could have called Dumbledore for help. He could have asked me! I could have helped him, but now all I had was a pile of newspapers and a fading hope that he'd managed to escape eight Death Eaters and made the swim to shore again.
Seamus walked into the room then. He gave my pile of newspapers a weird glance, and then continued onto his desk. I pulled the curtains around my bed, and stared up at the ceiling, trying to convince my stomach to untie itself. They never found the body, I thought to myself. They never found his body.
They aren't looking for a large dead dog said the little voice in the back of my head.
I spent another night without sleep.