The cells, a dungeon really, was dark and cold and damp. It were mostly for
show and because every good castle had one. Of course, the evil lair of the
world's worst dark wizard had to have a dungeon. It wouldn't have been
right without one.
Occasionally one of Voldemort's followers had to spend the night in one of the cells, a minor punishment for minor transgressions. Sometimes there were prisoners but very rarely.
Voldemort liked to kill his victims, not imprison them.
The first cell on the right was empty, the barred door standing open on rusty wet hinges. There was a puddle of fetid water in the back corner and the straw was moldy and smelled bad. There wasn't any window slit in this cell, the only light coming from the hallway. What light did come in didn't improve the contents of the cell any.
Regardless, Peter slipped into the cell and withdrew his wand. With a muttered incantation a chest in the corner suddenly became visible and he pulled out an invisibility cloak. It was amazing the things one could pilfer off of the Death Eaters Voldemort found unsatisfactory.
With a flourish and the whisper of cloth, Peter was suddenly gone from eyesight. With a stealth born of a dangerous life style and an innate paranoia, he exited the cell. Keeping to the walls he passed down the long hall of empty cells until he reached one that wasn't.
This cell was better than the one he'd pulled his cloak from, but only marginally. There was no giant pool of water taking up half the floor space, although the walls were shiny with slime and ichor. Sitting in the middle of the floor with his robe pulled up to avoid the disgusting surroundings, the boy sat in exhaustion. Even captured and afraid, facing certain death, he still retained a touch of defiance and an unbroken will.
Peter looked around again quickly, making sure that there was no one around. If there was, he was surely dead.
"Potter!" He whispered.
The boy looked up, green eyes startled and curious.
Peter pulled a bit of the cloak away so Harry could see his face. "I'm going to let you out this cell but you have to find your own way out."
Harry opened his mouth to say something but stopped, clearly unsure. He had never expected his parents' betrayer to help him.
"I'll need my wand." He said after moment's thought.
Peter pulled out the boy's wand and handed it to him, then used his own to unlock the cell.
Harry creaked open the door slowly, trying not to make any noise. Peter pulled the cloak back over his face and stood there, looking for any hint of an approach.
The dark haired boy with Lily's eyes paused in the open door to his cell. "You're going to be in a lot of trouble if they find out you helped me."
Peter didn't say anything. He just watched as Harry went up the stairs, his wand held ready and determination etched into his every feature. He knew the boy had it in him, had at least a tiny hope of a chance. He knew the trouble he had caused and the consequences. He laughed to himself. Consequences? Who cared about those when there was daring mischief to be had?
He was, after all, a Marauder.
Occasionally one of Voldemort's followers had to spend the night in one of the cells, a minor punishment for minor transgressions. Sometimes there were prisoners but very rarely.
Voldemort liked to kill his victims, not imprison them.
The first cell on the right was empty, the barred door standing open on rusty wet hinges. There was a puddle of fetid water in the back corner and the straw was moldy and smelled bad. There wasn't any window slit in this cell, the only light coming from the hallway. What light did come in didn't improve the contents of the cell any.
Regardless, Peter slipped into the cell and withdrew his wand. With a muttered incantation a chest in the corner suddenly became visible and he pulled out an invisibility cloak. It was amazing the things one could pilfer off of the Death Eaters Voldemort found unsatisfactory.
With a flourish and the whisper of cloth, Peter was suddenly gone from eyesight. With a stealth born of a dangerous life style and an innate paranoia, he exited the cell. Keeping to the walls he passed down the long hall of empty cells until he reached one that wasn't.
This cell was better than the one he'd pulled his cloak from, but only marginally. There was no giant pool of water taking up half the floor space, although the walls were shiny with slime and ichor. Sitting in the middle of the floor with his robe pulled up to avoid the disgusting surroundings, the boy sat in exhaustion. Even captured and afraid, facing certain death, he still retained a touch of defiance and an unbroken will.
Peter looked around again quickly, making sure that there was no one around. If there was, he was surely dead.
"Potter!" He whispered.
The boy looked up, green eyes startled and curious.
Peter pulled a bit of the cloak away so Harry could see his face. "I'm going to let you out this cell but you have to find your own way out."
Harry opened his mouth to say something but stopped, clearly unsure. He had never expected his parents' betrayer to help him.
"I'll need my wand." He said after moment's thought.
Peter pulled out the boy's wand and handed it to him, then used his own to unlock the cell.
Harry creaked open the door slowly, trying not to make any noise. Peter pulled the cloak back over his face and stood there, looking for any hint of an approach.
The dark haired boy with Lily's eyes paused in the open door to his cell. "You're going to be in a lot of trouble if they find out you helped me."
Peter didn't say anything. He just watched as Harry went up the stairs, his wand held ready and determination etched into his every feature. He knew the boy had it in him, had at least a tiny hope of a chance. He knew the trouble he had caused and the consequences. He laughed to himself. Consequences? Who cared about those when there was daring mischief to be had?
He was, after all, a Marauder.