A/N: Thanks for the reviews. Sorry Kaylin, your review didn't come up with
the rest. Here's to chapter nine! Please review.
-Anna Dearest
Chapter 9
"Great practice everyone," Harry cheered as all seven players landed on the ground, "Hufflepuff doesn't stand a chance come next Saturday!"
His announcement was met with cheers, also from Remus, Hermione, and Neville who'd taken to overseeing practices. Snuffles ran out onto the field barking with pride. Everyone appreciated the practices, as it was a chance for everyone to forget what they left on the ground. Harry had ordered three or four practices a week, and no one could deny that Gryffindor was superb. It was good to have a Captain that wasn't so outrageously obsessed as to order practices every waking hour of the day.
While Harry may have sounded confident, inside he was sopping with worry. Today was Friday, and the Saturday next week was the first Quidditch match of the season, and his first as Captain. Still, he donned a smile and congratulated his team, never forgetting that confidence was key.
With all the cheerfulness of a Quidditch practice, the Gryffindor team made their way inside the castle, passing the still shining blood-written words as they made their way through the Entrance Hall. Upon reaching the Common Room, Harry and the others took showers and most immediately flopped into their beds. However, Harry and Ron went into the Common Room to find Hermione studying. Surprise.
"Hello, Hermione," Harry said cheerily, "What can you possibly be studying?"
"I have a test in Arithmancy, thank you," Hermione said testily, "and next term we have to choose our new classes based on our O.W.L. scores."
"Next term, Hermione," Ron sighed, "not now."
"Are you going to make it to the Quidditch game?" Harry asked excitedly.
"Are you kidding?" Hermione beamed. "One of my best friends is Captain! I wouldn't miss it."
"Good," Harry sat back, satisfied with her answer; "I'd probably skin you alive if you missed it."
"I wouldn't doubt it," Hermione scoffed. "Where's Faolan, Harry?"
"I doubt know," Harry shrugged. "As much as I hate to admit it, I'm worried about him."
There was a soft tapping at the window that then attracted their attention. Hovering near one of the tower windows was a barn owl with an official looking letter attached to its leg. Harry dashed to the window after a second's hesitance and flung open the glass. The owl soared through the opening and landed on the table where Ron and Hermione sat. Ron removed the letter from the owl's leg and read the name quickly.
"Is there a Mr. Harry James Potter around?" Ron called. Harry closed the window as the owl left and took the letter from Ron's outstretched hand. "Read it aloud."
Harry tore open the letter. "Dear Mister Potter, due to your assistance to the Ministry of Magic, we've arranged with the Daily Prophet for a free subscription to their paper." Harry snorted. "Like that makes a difference, I could have just borrowed Hermione's!"
"Keep reading," Ron whined impatiently.
"We would also like to inform you that tomorrow's issue may hold a personal interest for you. With best regards, Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic."
"What is he talking about?" Hermione asked, curiosity evident on her face.
"No idea," Harry murmured. "I guess I'll just have to wait to find out. I may as well get to bed. G'Night."
**********
The morning dawned bright and early, with all thoughts of the newspaper out of Harry's mind. Stretching and yawning, the sixth year made to prepare for a peaceful Saturday, if only there ever was one. The sleepy castle began to awaken as smells of breakfast lured even the most peaceful sleepers out of their slumber.
Harry, Ron, Hermione, Neville, and Ginny sat chatting happily as they snatched up pieces of toast and predicted the outcome of the upcoming Quidditch match. It was as good a Saturday as the school had yet seen; yet they were all in for a shock. No one gave it much thought as the morning post owls streamed into the Great Hall, delivering news, letters, and parcels to the recipients.
Hermione paid her owl and opened up the newspaper, while Harry, fearing the worst as he remembered Fudge's letter, and awaited her reaction. He didn't have to wait long though, as her eyes opened wide and she spit out her pumpkin juice on the table. She stood there, gaping like a fish and holding her paper suspended in front of her. Harry quirked an eyebrow and hesitantly reached for his own Daily Prophet.
PETER PETTIGREW ALIVE AND WORKING FOR YOU-KNOW-WHO?
The headline read. Harry's eyes went as wide as saucers as he continued on, now reading to his intrigued fellow students, all of which had gathered around them.
"It may be hard to believe," Harry began reading, "but several eyewitness accounts of survivors have led us to believe that one Peter Pettigrew may be alive after all. Many may remember that Pettigrew was believed dead at the wand of the most infamous criminal to ever set foot inside Azkaban, Sirius Black. While the Muggles present at the scene of the crime told us that they had indeed seen Pettigrew die, no body was ever found.
"It is even more shocking to find that Pettigrew may be helping You-Know- Who as he steadily gains power and followers in the wizarding world. It was believed that Black was the second-in-command to He-Who-Must-Not-Be- Named. Is it possible that the Ministry has persecuted and hunted an innocent man, condemning him to the feared fortress of Azkaban?
"Only more evidence and time will tell. From what clues and interviews we have gathered at the Daily Prophet, we may be forced to reassess Black's crimes and see if we can't find another explanation."
Eyes and mouths alike were wider than ever believed possible as Harry finished the article. The whole hall was in silence, all thinking over and repeating in their minds what he had just read. Even those who knew of Sirius' innocence were shocked, as none could believe that someone had spotted Pettigrew, even though he was supposedly still in the castle. Hermione was the first to speak.
"So, if they think that Pettigrew's alive-."
"That would mean that people would definitely begin to rethink all their accusations, and all that the Ministry's done. They have been chasing the wrong man for years after all," Remus said from the crowd. Remus chuckled softly. "This will be so degrading for the Ministry."
**********
News traveled fast at breakfast that morning, as the Great Hall buzzed excitedly with their number one topic of conversation. What if the Ministry had made a mistake? After all, the accused didn't get a trial that time around. Would he in the future?
Sirius seemed in high spirits that day, yipping happily as each of the Quidditch team's success at the practice that day. Part of him felt like he was already free, simply because now people knew that he didn't kill Pettigrew. Of course some would think it was just his using Dark magic to trick the eyes of the innocent into seeing false images in their heads, or dreaming that they saw him.
It didn't matter right now though; things would only get better in time. They had to.
**********
"Are you ready for the Quidditch match?" Sirius asked Harry on Friday, as they all sat in Remus and Sirius' cozy quarters.
"A little nervous," Harry said, just a bit shakily. Sirius patted his godson on the back and gave him a reassuring smile.
"Well Mr. Quidditch Captain, you'd best be off to bed. We'll be cheering for Gryffindor, especially that marvelous Seeker they have," Remus grinned.
Harry and the others trudged up to Gryffindor tower, all tired from the day's excitement that only an upcoming Quidditch match could bring. They all retired to bed, all finding sleep quickly, except for the team, who either dreamt of victory or failure. Harry however, had other dreams.
**********
He found himself in what appeared to be a pitch-black setting, not knowing where he was except for the faint woodsy sounds of a few birds and other creatures he preferred not to dwell on. He heard faint pops, and now all around him he heard ragged breathing, thick with anticipation and fear.
As the last of who he assumed to be Death Eaters made their appearance, they began to move forward, dragging Harry helplessly along with them. They came to a shore where a fleet of at least three dozen small rowboats bobbed in the water. There was an unidentifiable chill in the air as the sand crunched beneath the feet of the Death Eaters as they crossed the beach and waded into the water, boarding the small boats in groups of fours and fives.
As the last foot hit the wooden bottom, the magically propelled boats lurched forward, dragging Harry in their wake. It wasn't hard to observe the empty boats that trailed along behind the fuller ones as they sped through the water. The only noise was the sound of the water lapping the sides of the small vessels as they steered expertly through the water. At the head of the boat was Voldemort, blood red eyes already blazing with triumph. Part of him wished Fox would sleep so that he wouldn't be entirely too alone.
The air got colder, harsher, and deep in the background Harry could have swore he heard screaming, but he shook his head and cleared his thoughts. This did nothing to help as after what seemed an eternity later, a shadow loomed up out of the fog that covered the black water. First just a speck in the distance, then a solid black outline against the white of the fog and foam that engulfed what appeared to be a barren island, void of any signs of plantlike. The boats roughly bumped the shore and the Death Eaters embarked on their mission at hand. And for the first time, many got a glimpse at what was usually described as a living hell.
Shrouded in the thick fog, the stone cut roughly through the mist, rising up from the very heart of the island itself. A cold like none other ever experienced cut him like a knife. The jagged rock surrounded the rough-cut walls of the tall, endless building stretching before the sea of black robed Death Eaters steadily approaching. A sense of loss and hopelessness threatened to drown Harry as he began feeling the urge to wretch. The screams and wails in the background became more pronounced as he was dragged along. Harry set eyes on the torture and pain of many, including his godfather. The very definition of the words 'hell on earth.' He set his eyes on Azkaban.
Engraved on the wall near the entrance were the words
You have committed the crimes,
And now you must pay,
In a place void of both
Night and of day,
You shall suffer the pain
Bestowed upon thee,
For this is a final place,
You will never leave.
Harry shivered at the words, a chill felt to his very bones. He was in a dream, but the Dementors would still affect him, and he'd be absolutely helpless, unable to stop any of it.
The Death Eaters progressed farther, through the huge great doors of the prison. Sitting at a desk near the front was an elderly wizard, looking up mock cheerfully as the doors opened. The fake smile faded quickly as the first Death Eater raised his wand and muttered the Killing Curse, the look of horror plastered upon the innocent man's face forever more. Gray, shocked eyes stared back at Harry, death behind them, and all horrors at an end.
The Dementors were instantly upon them, but instead of attacking those who would assault their haven, they began to direct the robed men towards areas of the prison, where they were no doubt freeing the incapacitated followers. Harry, however, was forced to follow Voldemort as he swept through the prison, killing some of those who had dared not to join the Dark Side.
Harry was too shocked to notice much of this, and he almost deemed killing them to be merciful on the tortured souls. It took all the will in him not to scream in horror as he saw the prisoners, obviously not in their right minds. Many screamed and lunged at the bars, if they had the little strength it took, as the only humans they'd seen in years marched past their cells, leaving them to sink into their haunting misery. Most sat in the dark, rocking back and forth and mumbling incoherently to themselves as though the darkness and their insanity were their only friends in this hell where they'd been left to rot.
Their physical state was what made Harry felt all the sicklier. Pale, waxy- looking skin, etched with claw marks and bruises, tinged with green and smattered with the crimson-brown of dried blood covered the prisoners. Bones that no human should ever be able to visibly detect protruded from the flesh of the gaunt prisoners, making them seem all the more like skeletal, unearthly beings. The eyes were the worst, staring out, no longer thinking sanely, all of them haunted and dead.
The Death Eaters paid the grotesque prisoners no mind as they massacred the guards and some of the healthier, disloyal prisoners. As it finally began to die down, Harry felt he could take no more. He wanted to wake up, to never see this place again, and to never see Sirius even dwell on the memories. The stench of rotting bodies and blood, it was all overwhelming and powerful, dragging the poor boy down until he screamed aloud in the most piercing and frightening wail most human beings could ever emit from their bodies.
**********
"HARRY WAKE UP!" Ron yelled again. The redhead was beyond panic now, along with the others in the dormitory. Harry flailed around desperately, his skin pale and drenched in cold sweat. Professor McGonagall was already there, and Crookshanks, seeming to sense the urgency, had made sure to retrieve Sirius and Remus. All stood back horrified as Harry lashed out at the covers and pillows on his four poster bed.
The stern McGonagall ushered all but Ron, Hermione, and the two men out as Harry's dream further assaulted him. Finally, Harry uttered the most terrifying scream any of them had ever heard, making their hair stand on end. It seemed to come from his very soul, as though it was being painfully wrenched from his body in a final attempt to destroy the boy before them. A panic rose in the small crowd. Only one of them had ever heard a scream like that before while he was in. Sirius resumed his human form and ran forward as Harry's wail reached a pitch beyond human comprehension. The very sound tore at Sirius' heart as it came from his godson.only he knew what he might be seeing. He grasped one of Harry's hands as though the very thread of his life hung upon it, hearing only his scream, immediately bringing him out of the dream.
His eyes were wild as they searched the room, looking for any sign of Azkaban anywhere. There next to him was Sirius, as he gingerly sat down beside him, still grasping his hand. Harry's breaths were coming only as shuddering gasps as he tried to forget what he'd seen, but it only came back more powerfully. Cold sweat drenched his forehead, and a few tears ran down his cheek, which he made a futile effort to hide.
Sirius wrapped one arm around the shaking shoulders, the other still grasping the trembling fingers of his godson's hands. It was comforting, and the shaking soon began to die down. Harry breathing evened out, and soon he was just sitting calmly with one of Sirius' arms protectively around him.
"You saw that place, didn't you?" Sirius asked quietly. Harry only nodded after a shocked glance in his direction. "I know it's terrible, but don't dwell on it. That's the key Harry, don't dwell on it."
"I might want to tell Dumbledore about this," Harry said in a quavering voice after a few moments.
"Only if you feel up to it, Mr. Potter," McGonagall said sternly, but her eyes were soft and caring behind her square glasses. She seemed to know what the exchange between Harry and Sirius had meant, and felt sympathy towards the two for seeing horrors unimaginable to the professor.
"I.I need to tell him this," Harry replied firmly. He tried to get to his feet, but found his legs a bit unstable. Sirius was immediately at his side, helping him to the dormitory door. With Remus and McGonagall in tow, they made their way to the Headmaster's office.
**********
Harry could admit that it had been for the best to tell Dumbledore, and he felt much better doing it with Sirius and Remus there, although McGonagall's gaping appearance was slightly less reassuring. After the dream had come out, the morning sun was up and drifting lazily through the window as the story came to a close.
Harry was dismissed afterwards, and McGonagall tried to keep him from playing Quidditch, but Harry assured her that it would help more than hurt, regardless of how nervous he was. He made his way to the Great Hall where Ron, Hermione, Neville, Ginny, and the rest of the Gryffindor team waited anxiously for their Captain's arrival. He gave them a reassuring smile and parted from the ex-professor and Grim-like dog to try and enjoy his small breakfast he forced down his throat. The smile seemed to help as they then began on their own meager meal.
As eleven o'clock drew near, he motioned the team out to the locker rooms, amid cheers from Gryffindor and Ravenclaw. They were playing against the Hufflepuffs, and the Slytherins always sided with whichever team was competing against Gryffindor. Harry noticed with a pang of guilt that Cedric was no longer the Hufflepuff Seeker, though he'd no longer attend Hogwarts regardless, it still was a terrible memory.
Harry stood before his team in the glory of their scarlet and gold robes, each face betraying their eagerness and anxiety.
"Don't worry," Harry began, "I know you're all nervous, as am I. Yet, I have confidence in all of you, as I've seen how well you do at practices. This is my first game as Captain, as long as you make it a memorable one, I'll ask no more of you."
With that, all of the Gryffindor team trooped onto the field, the roar of the crowd deafening as they made their way to the center of the pitch. Harry and the Hufflepuff Captain, burly chaser David Finnic, stood facing one another in friendly competition. Madam Hooch stood between the two teams, the red Quaffle in her hands. She ordered them to mount their brooms, waiting until they complied to toss the red ball into the air.
Both teams left the ground, amid the roar of the crowd and the voice of the new commentator, excitable Colin Creevey. Harry had to admit, he did a great job, despite his high pitched squeals at every Gryffindor score. Harry ignored this though as he focused on one thing and one thing only.finding the golden Snitch.
He wasn't aware of the news of Voldemort attacks, nor the dream and his visit to Azkaban. All he could think of was the wind playing with his hair and the desperation to find the Snitch. That was his one job now, and he'd do it without fail.
He cast a glance downwards; watching as Ron blocked a goal magnificently, before passing the Quaffle to Ginny. Ginny sped down the field like a bullet; her sights set the three goalposts ahead. Harry cheered to himself as she scored brilliantly.
Harry cast a glance at the score. Right now, it was 50-10 in favor of Gryffindor. Chancing it, he heard a snippet of Colin's commentating. "And they have acquired quite a team this year for Gryffindor, after losing all but two of their players last year. And here comes Scott Wilson, flying past the Hufflepuffs and heading towards the goals and he.SCORES! Excellent job to Gryffindor Chaser Scott Wilson, quite a good Chaser indeed."
Harry attention was then drawn skillfully away from Colin's voice. It was the very thing that made him a Seeker, that draw and skill and capturing the tiny Snitch, and the excitement of being one of the few who could do it with such accuracy. The golden ball was hovering just above the Slytherin stands as they booed the Gryffindors and cheered the Hufflepuffs.
Harry tore after the golden ball as it immediately went into action. The Hufflepuff Seeker noticed this too as he joined in chasing after Harry, though thinking it was altogether hopeless. The Snitch dropped, plummeting to the ground before rocketing upward, immediately changing the two Seekers' direction. The whole crowd seemed to be holding their breath as they watched the two streaks of color whiz past them and upward into the pure blue of the sky.
Harry's let one hand off of his broom and reached out for the tiny Snitch as it charged into the sky. Without hesitance, his arms wrapped securely around the tiny ball as its wings beat furiously. But it was over! Gryffindor had won! As an enormous cheer rent the crowd, no one noticed the shrill of Madam Hooch's whistle as she tried to alert the attention of the team to the two Bludgers that had successfully and miraculously escaped her grasp.
Both teams were oblivious to this as the Hufflepuffs maintained their cheery disposition and congratulated the Gryffindors, who surrounded Harry in the air. Not one of them noticed the two balls whipping upward through the air, both mysteriously headed for the same mark. It took Hermione's shrill scream, Sirius' bark, and Madam Hooch's whistle to let them know anything was wrong.
Doing an abrupt about face in the air, all seven Gryffindors stared open mouthed as the Bludgers hurled at them, too fast for them to do anything. Both struck their mark: Harry. The first hit his left side, causing him to begin to slide to the right, but not before the second hit him squarely in the chest.
Not completely out cold, Harry felt the pain, tasted the blood, and heard, screams, barks, and all others sorts of absurd noises as he began plummeting to the ground. Not knowing what else to do, Neville screamed "Impedimenta!" as Harry's descent continued, only greatly slowed.
Sirius couldn't think straight as he watched Harry's body fall from his broom. He launched himself away from the crowd and towards the pitch as his godson made contact with the ground, thudding and cracking painfully. Sirius ran forward in dog form, nudging Harry, who miraculously had remained conscious, though barely.
"Siri-?" Harry couldn't even finish his godfather's name. Sirius whined loudly and licked one of Harry's hands, begging for a response. He couldn't distinctly hear Malfoy laughing his head off in the background, and involuntarily he bristled at the noise.
"Oh back off Sirius," McGonagall said gently. "He's had worse falls from his broom than this. We just need to get him to the Hospital Wing." The stern professor conjured a stretcher and made her way up to the infirmary. 'Goodness,' she thought. 'It is a good thing he's not made of glass, but two things in less that five hours!'
**********
"Honestly, Madam Pomfrey, it was just a few broken bones! Can I please go back to the dormitories?" Harry begged her like this often, only to find she really was soft at heart.
"Oh fine, but if you even feel slightly dizzy, you'd better be here right away!" she scolded. Harry pretty much leapt from the bed and raced out of the hospital wing, running towards Gryffindor tower.
Waiting outside the portrait was a worried Sirius and Remus. Both looked up at the sound of Harry's footsteps. Sirius, who was in dog form, yipped happily and ran circles around his laughing godson. Remus just smiled a smile of pure relief.
"Better Harry?" he asked.
"Yes, if it weren't for dealing with Pomfrey," Harry answered truthfully. Remus chuckled lightly.
"I know how that is, since she was the nurse in my time too. Congratulations on your first success as Captain, Harry!"
"Thanks," Harry turned slightly red, but all tension fled as Sirius gave another joyful yip, congratulating him in his own canine way.
"See you later, Harry," Remus said, "we just wanted to make sure you were all right, and Madam Pomfrey nearly attacked us. 'Night."
"Goodnight." With a small bark from Sirius, they disappeared down the corridor.
Harry gave the password to the Fat Lady and the portrait swung forward. Harry nearly fell backwards at the noise and the stream of students that came out to grab him and pull him inside like the suction of a drain. As his fellow Gryffindors hoisted him onto their shoulders in triumphant glee, all problems were forgotten. For the students in Gryffindor tower, all that existed was the buzzing of conversation, the laugh of a cheery student, the taste of warm butterbeer, and the refreshing food robbed of the kitchens.
The Gryffindors stayed up late into the night, none of them wanting the festivities to end. After the crowd began to disperse and die down, the fatigued team set their sights on their four poster beds waiting peacefully for them in their dormitories.
All was at peace in the tower as the last student made their way up to bed. Not a sound was heard, not an object disturbed. All was as it should be.
Yet, in the shadows of the tower, there was a secret. And that secret had only one goal.
A/N: Please review! My description of Azkaban took a little while to sculpt, and I'd particularly like to see what you thought of it. Sorry that it's a bit shorter than usual. Review please! -Anna Dearest
Chapter 9
"Great practice everyone," Harry cheered as all seven players landed on the ground, "Hufflepuff doesn't stand a chance come next Saturday!"
His announcement was met with cheers, also from Remus, Hermione, and Neville who'd taken to overseeing practices. Snuffles ran out onto the field barking with pride. Everyone appreciated the practices, as it was a chance for everyone to forget what they left on the ground. Harry had ordered three or four practices a week, and no one could deny that Gryffindor was superb. It was good to have a Captain that wasn't so outrageously obsessed as to order practices every waking hour of the day.
While Harry may have sounded confident, inside he was sopping with worry. Today was Friday, and the Saturday next week was the first Quidditch match of the season, and his first as Captain. Still, he donned a smile and congratulated his team, never forgetting that confidence was key.
With all the cheerfulness of a Quidditch practice, the Gryffindor team made their way inside the castle, passing the still shining blood-written words as they made their way through the Entrance Hall. Upon reaching the Common Room, Harry and the others took showers and most immediately flopped into their beds. However, Harry and Ron went into the Common Room to find Hermione studying. Surprise.
"Hello, Hermione," Harry said cheerily, "What can you possibly be studying?"
"I have a test in Arithmancy, thank you," Hermione said testily, "and next term we have to choose our new classes based on our O.W.L. scores."
"Next term, Hermione," Ron sighed, "not now."
"Are you going to make it to the Quidditch game?" Harry asked excitedly.
"Are you kidding?" Hermione beamed. "One of my best friends is Captain! I wouldn't miss it."
"Good," Harry sat back, satisfied with her answer; "I'd probably skin you alive if you missed it."
"I wouldn't doubt it," Hermione scoffed. "Where's Faolan, Harry?"
"I doubt know," Harry shrugged. "As much as I hate to admit it, I'm worried about him."
There was a soft tapping at the window that then attracted their attention. Hovering near one of the tower windows was a barn owl with an official looking letter attached to its leg. Harry dashed to the window after a second's hesitance and flung open the glass. The owl soared through the opening and landed on the table where Ron and Hermione sat. Ron removed the letter from the owl's leg and read the name quickly.
"Is there a Mr. Harry James Potter around?" Ron called. Harry closed the window as the owl left and took the letter from Ron's outstretched hand. "Read it aloud."
Harry tore open the letter. "Dear Mister Potter, due to your assistance to the Ministry of Magic, we've arranged with the Daily Prophet for a free subscription to their paper." Harry snorted. "Like that makes a difference, I could have just borrowed Hermione's!"
"Keep reading," Ron whined impatiently.
"We would also like to inform you that tomorrow's issue may hold a personal interest for you. With best regards, Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic."
"What is he talking about?" Hermione asked, curiosity evident on her face.
"No idea," Harry murmured. "I guess I'll just have to wait to find out. I may as well get to bed. G'Night."
**********
The morning dawned bright and early, with all thoughts of the newspaper out of Harry's mind. Stretching and yawning, the sixth year made to prepare for a peaceful Saturday, if only there ever was one. The sleepy castle began to awaken as smells of breakfast lured even the most peaceful sleepers out of their slumber.
Harry, Ron, Hermione, Neville, and Ginny sat chatting happily as they snatched up pieces of toast and predicted the outcome of the upcoming Quidditch match. It was as good a Saturday as the school had yet seen; yet they were all in for a shock. No one gave it much thought as the morning post owls streamed into the Great Hall, delivering news, letters, and parcels to the recipients.
Hermione paid her owl and opened up the newspaper, while Harry, fearing the worst as he remembered Fudge's letter, and awaited her reaction. He didn't have to wait long though, as her eyes opened wide and she spit out her pumpkin juice on the table. She stood there, gaping like a fish and holding her paper suspended in front of her. Harry quirked an eyebrow and hesitantly reached for his own Daily Prophet.
PETER PETTIGREW ALIVE AND WORKING FOR YOU-KNOW-WHO?
The headline read. Harry's eyes went as wide as saucers as he continued on, now reading to his intrigued fellow students, all of which had gathered around them.
"It may be hard to believe," Harry began reading, "but several eyewitness accounts of survivors have led us to believe that one Peter Pettigrew may be alive after all. Many may remember that Pettigrew was believed dead at the wand of the most infamous criminal to ever set foot inside Azkaban, Sirius Black. While the Muggles present at the scene of the crime told us that they had indeed seen Pettigrew die, no body was ever found.
"It is even more shocking to find that Pettigrew may be helping You-Know- Who as he steadily gains power and followers in the wizarding world. It was believed that Black was the second-in-command to He-Who-Must-Not-Be- Named. Is it possible that the Ministry has persecuted and hunted an innocent man, condemning him to the feared fortress of Azkaban?
"Only more evidence and time will tell. From what clues and interviews we have gathered at the Daily Prophet, we may be forced to reassess Black's crimes and see if we can't find another explanation."
Eyes and mouths alike were wider than ever believed possible as Harry finished the article. The whole hall was in silence, all thinking over and repeating in their minds what he had just read. Even those who knew of Sirius' innocence were shocked, as none could believe that someone had spotted Pettigrew, even though he was supposedly still in the castle. Hermione was the first to speak.
"So, if they think that Pettigrew's alive-."
"That would mean that people would definitely begin to rethink all their accusations, and all that the Ministry's done. They have been chasing the wrong man for years after all," Remus said from the crowd. Remus chuckled softly. "This will be so degrading for the Ministry."
**********
News traveled fast at breakfast that morning, as the Great Hall buzzed excitedly with their number one topic of conversation. What if the Ministry had made a mistake? After all, the accused didn't get a trial that time around. Would he in the future?
Sirius seemed in high spirits that day, yipping happily as each of the Quidditch team's success at the practice that day. Part of him felt like he was already free, simply because now people knew that he didn't kill Pettigrew. Of course some would think it was just his using Dark magic to trick the eyes of the innocent into seeing false images in their heads, or dreaming that they saw him.
It didn't matter right now though; things would only get better in time. They had to.
**********
"Are you ready for the Quidditch match?" Sirius asked Harry on Friday, as they all sat in Remus and Sirius' cozy quarters.
"A little nervous," Harry said, just a bit shakily. Sirius patted his godson on the back and gave him a reassuring smile.
"Well Mr. Quidditch Captain, you'd best be off to bed. We'll be cheering for Gryffindor, especially that marvelous Seeker they have," Remus grinned.
Harry and the others trudged up to Gryffindor tower, all tired from the day's excitement that only an upcoming Quidditch match could bring. They all retired to bed, all finding sleep quickly, except for the team, who either dreamt of victory or failure. Harry however, had other dreams.
**********
He found himself in what appeared to be a pitch-black setting, not knowing where he was except for the faint woodsy sounds of a few birds and other creatures he preferred not to dwell on. He heard faint pops, and now all around him he heard ragged breathing, thick with anticipation and fear.
As the last of who he assumed to be Death Eaters made their appearance, they began to move forward, dragging Harry helplessly along with them. They came to a shore where a fleet of at least three dozen small rowboats bobbed in the water. There was an unidentifiable chill in the air as the sand crunched beneath the feet of the Death Eaters as they crossed the beach and waded into the water, boarding the small boats in groups of fours and fives.
As the last foot hit the wooden bottom, the magically propelled boats lurched forward, dragging Harry in their wake. It wasn't hard to observe the empty boats that trailed along behind the fuller ones as they sped through the water. The only noise was the sound of the water lapping the sides of the small vessels as they steered expertly through the water. At the head of the boat was Voldemort, blood red eyes already blazing with triumph. Part of him wished Fox would sleep so that he wouldn't be entirely too alone.
The air got colder, harsher, and deep in the background Harry could have swore he heard screaming, but he shook his head and cleared his thoughts. This did nothing to help as after what seemed an eternity later, a shadow loomed up out of the fog that covered the black water. First just a speck in the distance, then a solid black outline against the white of the fog and foam that engulfed what appeared to be a barren island, void of any signs of plantlike. The boats roughly bumped the shore and the Death Eaters embarked on their mission at hand. And for the first time, many got a glimpse at what was usually described as a living hell.
Shrouded in the thick fog, the stone cut roughly through the mist, rising up from the very heart of the island itself. A cold like none other ever experienced cut him like a knife. The jagged rock surrounded the rough-cut walls of the tall, endless building stretching before the sea of black robed Death Eaters steadily approaching. A sense of loss and hopelessness threatened to drown Harry as he began feeling the urge to wretch. The screams and wails in the background became more pronounced as he was dragged along. Harry set eyes on the torture and pain of many, including his godfather. The very definition of the words 'hell on earth.' He set his eyes on Azkaban.
Engraved on the wall near the entrance were the words
You have committed the crimes,
And now you must pay,
In a place void of both
Night and of day,
You shall suffer the pain
Bestowed upon thee,
For this is a final place,
You will never leave.
Harry shivered at the words, a chill felt to his very bones. He was in a dream, but the Dementors would still affect him, and he'd be absolutely helpless, unable to stop any of it.
The Death Eaters progressed farther, through the huge great doors of the prison. Sitting at a desk near the front was an elderly wizard, looking up mock cheerfully as the doors opened. The fake smile faded quickly as the first Death Eater raised his wand and muttered the Killing Curse, the look of horror plastered upon the innocent man's face forever more. Gray, shocked eyes stared back at Harry, death behind them, and all horrors at an end.
The Dementors were instantly upon them, but instead of attacking those who would assault their haven, they began to direct the robed men towards areas of the prison, where they were no doubt freeing the incapacitated followers. Harry, however, was forced to follow Voldemort as he swept through the prison, killing some of those who had dared not to join the Dark Side.
Harry was too shocked to notice much of this, and he almost deemed killing them to be merciful on the tortured souls. It took all the will in him not to scream in horror as he saw the prisoners, obviously not in their right minds. Many screamed and lunged at the bars, if they had the little strength it took, as the only humans they'd seen in years marched past their cells, leaving them to sink into their haunting misery. Most sat in the dark, rocking back and forth and mumbling incoherently to themselves as though the darkness and their insanity were their only friends in this hell where they'd been left to rot.
Their physical state was what made Harry felt all the sicklier. Pale, waxy- looking skin, etched with claw marks and bruises, tinged with green and smattered with the crimson-brown of dried blood covered the prisoners. Bones that no human should ever be able to visibly detect protruded from the flesh of the gaunt prisoners, making them seem all the more like skeletal, unearthly beings. The eyes were the worst, staring out, no longer thinking sanely, all of them haunted and dead.
The Death Eaters paid the grotesque prisoners no mind as they massacred the guards and some of the healthier, disloyal prisoners. As it finally began to die down, Harry felt he could take no more. He wanted to wake up, to never see this place again, and to never see Sirius even dwell on the memories. The stench of rotting bodies and blood, it was all overwhelming and powerful, dragging the poor boy down until he screamed aloud in the most piercing and frightening wail most human beings could ever emit from their bodies.
**********
"HARRY WAKE UP!" Ron yelled again. The redhead was beyond panic now, along with the others in the dormitory. Harry flailed around desperately, his skin pale and drenched in cold sweat. Professor McGonagall was already there, and Crookshanks, seeming to sense the urgency, had made sure to retrieve Sirius and Remus. All stood back horrified as Harry lashed out at the covers and pillows on his four poster bed.
The stern McGonagall ushered all but Ron, Hermione, and the two men out as Harry's dream further assaulted him. Finally, Harry uttered the most terrifying scream any of them had ever heard, making their hair stand on end. It seemed to come from his very soul, as though it was being painfully wrenched from his body in a final attempt to destroy the boy before them. A panic rose in the small crowd. Only one of them had ever heard a scream like that before while he was in. Sirius resumed his human form and ran forward as Harry's wail reached a pitch beyond human comprehension. The very sound tore at Sirius' heart as it came from his godson.only he knew what he might be seeing. He grasped one of Harry's hands as though the very thread of his life hung upon it, hearing only his scream, immediately bringing him out of the dream.
His eyes were wild as they searched the room, looking for any sign of Azkaban anywhere. There next to him was Sirius, as he gingerly sat down beside him, still grasping his hand. Harry's breaths were coming only as shuddering gasps as he tried to forget what he'd seen, but it only came back more powerfully. Cold sweat drenched his forehead, and a few tears ran down his cheek, which he made a futile effort to hide.
Sirius wrapped one arm around the shaking shoulders, the other still grasping the trembling fingers of his godson's hands. It was comforting, and the shaking soon began to die down. Harry breathing evened out, and soon he was just sitting calmly with one of Sirius' arms protectively around him.
"You saw that place, didn't you?" Sirius asked quietly. Harry only nodded after a shocked glance in his direction. "I know it's terrible, but don't dwell on it. That's the key Harry, don't dwell on it."
"I might want to tell Dumbledore about this," Harry said in a quavering voice after a few moments.
"Only if you feel up to it, Mr. Potter," McGonagall said sternly, but her eyes were soft and caring behind her square glasses. She seemed to know what the exchange between Harry and Sirius had meant, and felt sympathy towards the two for seeing horrors unimaginable to the professor.
"I.I need to tell him this," Harry replied firmly. He tried to get to his feet, but found his legs a bit unstable. Sirius was immediately at his side, helping him to the dormitory door. With Remus and McGonagall in tow, they made their way to the Headmaster's office.
**********
Harry could admit that it had been for the best to tell Dumbledore, and he felt much better doing it with Sirius and Remus there, although McGonagall's gaping appearance was slightly less reassuring. After the dream had come out, the morning sun was up and drifting lazily through the window as the story came to a close.
Harry was dismissed afterwards, and McGonagall tried to keep him from playing Quidditch, but Harry assured her that it would help more than hurt, regardless of how nervous he was. He made his way to the Great Hall where Ron, Hermione, Neville, Ginny, and the rest of the Gryffindor team waited anxiously for their Captain's arrival. He gave them a reassuring smile and parted from the ex-professor and Grim-like dog to try and enjoy his small breakfast he forced down his throat. The smile seemed to help as they then began on their own meager meal.
As eleven o'clock drew near, he motioned the team out to the locker rooms, amid cheers from Gryffindor and Ravenclaw. They were playing against the Hufflepuffs, and the Slytherins always sided with whichever team was competing against Gryffindor. Harry noticed with a pang of guilt that Cedric was no longer the Hufflepuff Seeker, though he'd no longer attend Hogwarts regardless, it still was a terrible memory.
Harry stood before his team in the glory of their scarlet and gold robes, each face betraying their eagerness and anxiety.
"Don't worry," Harry began, "I know you're all nervous, as am I. Yet, I have confidence in all of you, as I've seen how well you do at practices. This is my first game as Captain, as long as you make it a memorable one, I'll ask no more of you."
With that, all of the Gryffindor team trooped onto the field, the roar of the crowd deafening as they made their way to the center of the pitch. Harry and the Hufflepuff Captain, burly chaser David Finnic, stood facing one another in friendly competition. Madam Hooch stood between the two teams, the red Quaffle in her hands. She ordered them to mount their brooms, waiting until they complied to toss the red ball into the air.
Both teams left the ground, amid the roar of the crowd and the voice of the new commentator, excitable Colin Creevey. Harry had to admit, he did a great job, despite his high pitched squeals at every Gryffindor score. Harry ignored this though as he focused on one thing and one thing only.finding the golden Snitch.
He wasn't aware of the news of Voldemort attacks, nor the dream and his visit to Azkaban. All he could think of was the wind playing with his hair and the desperation to find the Snitch. That was his one job now, and he'd do it without fail.
He cast a glance downwards; watching as Ron blocked a goal magnificently, before passing the Quaffle to Ginny. Ginny sped down the field like a bullet; her sights set the three goalposts ahead. Harry cheered to himself as she scored brilliantly.
Harry cast a glance at the score. Right now, it was 50-10 in favor of Gryffindor. Chancing it, he heard a snippet of Colin's commentating. "And they have acquired quite a team this year for Gryffindor, after losing all but two of their players last year. And here comes Scott Wilson, flying past the Hufflepuffs and heading towards the goals and he.SCORES! Excellent job to Gryffindor Chaser Scott Wilson, quite a good Chaser indeed."
Harry attention was then drawn skillfully away from Colin's voice. It was the very thing that made him a Seeker, that draw and skill and capturing the tiny Snitch, and the excitement of being one of the few who could do it with such accuracy. The golden ball was hovering just above the Slytherin stands as they booed the Gryffindors and cheered the Hufflepuffs.
Harry tore after the golden ball as it immediately went into action. The Hufflepuff Seeker noticed this too as he joined in chasing after Harry, though thinking it was altogether hopeless. The Snitch dropped, plummeting to the ground before rocketing upward, immediately changing the two Seekers' direction. The whole crowd seemed to be holding their breath as they watched the two streaks of color whiz past them and upward into the pure blue of the sky.
Harry's let one hand off of his broom and reached out for the tiny Snitch as it charged into the sky. Without hesitance, his arms wrapped securely around the tiny ball as its wings beat furiously. But it was over! Gryffindor had won! As an enormous cheer rent the crowd, no one noticed the shrill of Madam Hooch's whistle as she tried to alert the attention of the team to the two Bludgers that had successfully and miraculously escaped her grasp.
Both teams were oblivious to this as the Hufflepuffs maintained their cheery disposition and congratulated the Gryffindors, who surrounded Harry in the air. Not one of them noticed the two balls whipping upward through the air, both mysteriously headed for the same mark. It took Hermione's shrill scream, Sirius' bark, and Madam Hooch's whistle to let them know anything was wrong.
Doing an abrupt about face in the air, all seven Gryffindors stared open mouthed as the Bludgers hurled at them, too fast for them to do anything. Both struck their mark: Harry. The first hit his left side, causing him to begin to slide to the right, but not before the second hit him squarely in the chest.
Not completely out cold, Harry felt the pain, tasted the blood, and heard, screams, barks, and all others sorts of absurd noises as he began plummeting to the ground. Not knowing what else to do, Neville screamed "Impedimenta!" as Harry's descent continued, only greatly slowed.
Sirius couldn't think straight as he watched Harry's body fall from his broom. He launched himself away from the crowd and towards the pitch as his godson made contact with the ground, thudding and cracking painfully. Sirius ran forward in dog form, nudging Harry, who miraculously had remained conscious, though barely.
"Siri-?" Harry couldn't even finish his godfather's name. Sirius whined loudly and licked one of Harry's hands, begging for a response. He couldn't distinctly hear Malfoy laughing his head off in the background, and involuntarily he bristled at the noise.
"Oh back off Sirius," McGonagall said gently. "He's had worse falls from his broom than this. We just need to get him to the Hospital Wing." The stern professor conjured a stretcher and made her way up to the infirmary. 'Goodness,' she thought. 'It is a good thing he's not made of glass, but two things in less that five hours!'
**********
"Honestly, Madam Pomfrey, it was just a few broken bones! Can I please go back to the dormitories?" Harry begged her like this often, only to find she really was soft at heart.
"Oh fine, but if you even feel slightly dizzy, you'd better be here right away!" she scolded. Harry pretty much leapt from the bed and raced out of the hospital wing, running towards Gryffindor tower.
Waiting outside the portrait was a worried Sirius and Remus. Both looked up at the sound of Harry's footsteps. Sirius, who was in dog form, yipped happily and ran circles around his laughing godson. Remus just smiled a smile of pure relief.
"Better Harry?" he asked.
"Yes, if it weren't for dealing with Pomfrey," Harry answered truthfully. Remus chuckled lightly.
"I know how that is, since she was the nurse in my time too. Congratulations on your first success as Captain, Harry!"
"Thanks," Harry turned slightly red, but all tension fled as Sirius gave another joyful yip, congratulating him in his own canine way.
"See you later, Harry," Remus said, "we just wanted to make sure you were all right, and Madam Pomfrey nearly attacked us. 'Night."
"Goodnight." With a small bark from Sirius, they disappeared down the corridor.
Harry gave the password to the Fat Lady and the portrait swung forward. Harry nearly fell backwards at the noise and the stream of students that came out to grab him and pull him inside like the suction of a drain. As his fellow Gryffindors hoisted him onto their shoulders in triumphant glee, all problems were forgotten. For the students in Gryffindor tower, all that existed was the buzzing of conversation, the laugh of a cheery student, the taste of warm butterbeer, and the refreshing food robbed of the kitchens.
The Gryffindors stayed up late into the night, none of them wanting the festivities to end. After the crowd began to disperse and die down, the fatigued team set their sights on their four poster beds waiting peacefully for them in their dormitories.
All was at peace in the tower as the last student made their way up to bed. Not a sound was heard, not an object disturbed. All was as it should be.
Yet, in the shadows of the tower, there was a secret. And that secret had only one goal.
A/N: Please review! My description of Azkaban took a little while to sculpt, and I'd particularly like to see what you thought of it. Sorry that it's a bit shorter than usual. Review please! -Anna Dearest