Author's Note: Okay, guys, please bear with me. I'm sick right now, so my grammar and spelling may be a bit off. I really want to finish this soon however, as I need to start on a James/Lily romance as well as a sequel to this story.

Yes, that's right, I want to write a sequel for this.

I have a plot vaguely mapped out, but I'm still lacking a title and fillers between all the good juicy action, suspense, and of course, my favorite: angst.

Anyway, I hope this story is both readable, comprehendible, and enjoyable.


"This is it," Harry whispered. The gentle swish-swish of one of the nurses feet could be heard fading into silence. Grasping at the knife, a gift from Sirius, with white knuckles, Harry waited for the light in the hall to go out: a signal that it was time for everyone to tuck in for the night. With a sharp inhaling of air, Harry's heart leapt as the lights flickered out, and the gentle snicking of a door could be heard at the furthest end of the corridor. Dumbledore had given Harry this one chance to escape, and he was taking it now.

He waited, just a few moments, to make certain that no one had lingered behind that night. Sometimes doctors would stay late to complete paperwork, or check up on their patients, or to simply avoid going home for the night, depending on circumstances. Harry's own doctor, Abendigo Montel, seemed to be one of those who wished for reasons to not head home right away. His wife was expecting a child sometime next month, or so Harry had overheard, and her mood swings were quite unbearable.

The risk of running into Montel tonight was a high one, made even larger so by the fact that Harry would have to slip past his office in order to get out of Mungos.

Harry's hands were shaking as he pulled the knife up to his face. Gently, he slithered out from under his bed sheets. Desperately trying to steady himself, Harry brought up his left hand to grasp the wrist of his right so that he didn't make noise while picking the lock of his room.

"This is everything," he concluded. The timid click that signaled success seemed as loud to Harry as a terrified shriek. The silence that was soon ringing in his ears again made his situation all the more dire and pressing. One awkward sound would instantly give him away, and his chance would be lost forever.

I can't let that happen, Harry thought to himself as he slipped through the shadows.

For the first time in his life he was grateful for being smaller than normal for his age, it made him less likely to be spotted in the darkness around him.

Wide, green eyes poked covertly behind every corner. He passed every door with the stealth of a wraith. He knew his way out well enough. It was getting there that was the problem. Montel's office, as well as the offices of many other dignified doctors, came and went, causing Harry no more trauma than a pack of restless nerves.

The mental ward of St. Mungos rested between the third and fifth floors near the west wing of the edifice. Harry had been placed, fortunately enough, on the third, making his escape easier for there were less mazes to solve in these endless echoing corridors. Less chances of running into someone that would escort him back to his room, afterward reporting the need for extra security over the chamber that night. Fate had, for once, played Harry a winning hand. He just had to arrange the cards the right way for the winning play.

A few minutes of meandering brought Harry to a staircase. He sighed in relief, hoping to find one of these instead of a lift. The latter would be too risky, enclosing him in a confined space that - if someone were to find him in - would be impossible to escape from. Harry sighed, toggling gently with the doorknob until it clicked open. He slipped into the shadows of the stairwell unnoticed and came out on the first floor.

Shit, he cursed repeatedly as he opened the door. He'd never stopped to realize that this was still a hospital that ran all day, ever day. There were bound to be thousands of people waiting in the lobby for medical care! Harry pressed his ear up to the door.

A multitude of voices were echoing from a thousand different directions. Harry couldn't sift through all of them. Some people were yelling in panic, others were speaking calmly. Doctors and healers of all sorts were shouting for potions, stretchers, and other things that Harry couldn't really hear. It was not the voices that concerned him, but all the eyes that would easily spot him and unknowingly betray him to the staff here at the hospital.

Too bad, A part of Harry's brain thought to himself. Well, I tried.

"That's not good enough," he grumbled in response. "We can't just give up."

As he finished his words, the doorknob twisted. Harry's heart lurched. Someone was coming into the stairwell!

Harry cursed again and threw himself on the other side of the door so that he would be concealed when it opened. He waited, holding his breath, waiting to be discovered.

"Busiest night of the damn year," one voice said in a complaining tone. "I can't believe this. Every full moon. It's a mad house."

"Yeah," answered the other voice. "I know. Still, it's good pay, and we're off at one."

They disappeared up the staircase, not noticing the young boy who stood shaking in the corner.

Harry was relieved that they'd not noticed him, but he knew he'd been lucky that time. Next time he would not be so fortunate.

He had to get out. Now.

With one last breath, as though he were diving back into the mysterious black ocean near the gray sanded beach, Harry ripped open the door and bolted into...

...an empty corridor.

"What's going on?" Harry frowned, looking to and fro for some explanation. He whirled his body around numerous times, as though he were expecting someone to jump at him. "Where is everyone?"

There was a ghostly silence for a moment, then the voices started up again. Thousands of them, and they were all coming from the end of the corridor.

That must be where the waiting room is, Harry thought to himself. He was standing in what seemed to be a sort of mud room, though there was no door leading outside. There were, however, racks upon racks filled with coats and boots, canes, umbrellas, purses and shoes. Cloaks lay strewn about of numerous colors and sizes. One in particular had a very intricate design of what appeared to be Celtic origins. Harry admired it, but realized that it would be too conspicuous trying to leave with such an ostentatious piece draped around his shoulders. Someone would undoubtedly recognize it.

Instead, Harry stuck with a traditional full length navy blue cloak. He studied it before putting it on, making sure that there were no distinguishing marks on it. He couldn't risk being spotted walking off with someone's extraordinary materials. A plainer style would do. Harry couldn't afford to stand out.

He slipped the cloak over a regular pair of robes that were in a charity bin, and with his hood drawn over his head he slipped through the lobby unnoticed.

This is too easy, Harry found himself thinking as he passed through the doors. However, as Harry marveled at his succeeded escape attempt, he did not notice the large, burly man approach on his right. Harry felt himself collide painfully hard with a very thick bodied man. He was sprawled on the ground instantly. Harry rushed to pull up his hood when a trash bin sized hand reached down to bring him back to his feet.

" 'Hello good sir," said a voice Harry was quite familiar with. "So sorry 'bout that. Don't know me own strength sometimes. Didn' hurt yeh, did I?"

Harry stared, flabbergasted, straight up into the face of Rubeus Hagrid, the Hogwarts Gamekeeper. His mind froze. His heart seemed to have skipped a beat, and all common sense and want for secrecy was forgotten.

Hagrid, sensing tension, bit his lip and ripped Harry up off the ground a little harder than he had originally intended. It was dark out, so Harry did not have to worry about his identity being betrayed.

Unless he decided to talk.

"I, eh, sorry," Hagrid muttered clumsily, fumbling over something beneath his arm after brushing Harry's shoulders off.

Something clicked in Harry's head. He suddenly had a brilliant idea that would make this experience very fun indeed.

"S'all right, guv," he said with a wide smile Hagrid would not be able to see. Harry put on his best Cockney accent with a personality to match. "No 'arm done."

That familiar, skin crinkling smile came to the giant's face again. Harry felt a wave of relief surge up in him. Hagrid had fallen for it. Don't be rude, Harry's better half reminded himself. "Say, whot's that ye've got there?" Harry asked, pointing to the bundle beneath Hagrid's arm.

"Oh," Hagrid tossed the bag from one hand to the other, tucking it back under his arm hastily. "S' a present."

" 'ow sweet," Harry grinned. It was hard to not laugh at himself. "Oo-sit for?"

"A friend o' mine," Hagrid sighed sadly, and for the first time Harry was aware of how tired and worn the giant looked, as though he'd had a very hard time these past few weeks. "He's sick."

"Oo, I'm sorry to 'ear that," Harry said with a sigh. "I'm sure 'ee'll be gettin' better soon."

Hagrid shrugged. "I'd not be to sure 'bout that."

"Oh?"

There was a temporary pause in which Harry could see tears glistening at the edges of Hagrid's beetle black eyes. He said his goodbye and slipped through the doors of Mungos. Harry watched after him, then ducked into the shadows of the nearest alleyway. Hagrid was no doubt going to visit him, which meant the time Harry had assumed he would have to get away was now drastically cut down to barely anything at all. He had to find an outdoor broom closet, and fast, otherwise Hagrid would jeopardize everything.


Harry had raced off on a Cleansweep by the time Mungos' officials had started to comb the area for their elusive escapee. He could not help but smile as the hospital grew smaller and smaller in the distance, only hoping never to see the place again. Yet, for all his stealth and luck, Harry knew he had only one last asset playing for him, and that was time. His mental clock continued to tick down. Surely they would begin to dispatch wizards to areas in which they were most certain he would head. Privet Drive, though Harry would be damned if he was willingly going back there; The Burrow, which would be pointless because the Weasleys would only drag him back; Hogwarts, in which case Harry was in a very similar state there as he was with the Weasleys; Grimmauld Place, which might give Harry a shot only because the Ministry and Mungos would not know about it; Diagon Alley, where he would surely be recognized and reported; and then there was heading back to the Ministry itself.

Of course, the latter was Harry's plan, but he would have to be careful. No doubt there were now eyes combing every inch of anywhere for him, and even more certainly, the minute Remus Lupin heard of Harry's escape, he would know just where he'd have gone.

Harry frowned. No, he wouldn't have to worry about Remus tonight. The full moon gleamed eerily over Harry's head. Remus would be reverting to his lycanthropic state this night, and would therefore be out of Harry's way. The only real question that nagged Harry was why Dumbledore had helped him. What could he gain by giving Harry an escape route? Surely there was a bigger purpose than simply letting Harry loose onto the wizarding community again?

But what?

It didn't matter. Harry couldn't waste time thinking on it. He could see the Ministry building growing larger and larger. It's windows were lifeless and cold, just as Harry had hoped. No one was expecting him. Not yet.

This gave Harry some time. He could get to where he needed and not be disturbed.

"Finally." Harry smiled, diving into the shadows of the streets below to keep from being seen.


Harry stepped awkwardly into the battered telephone box, closing the door behind him. He shuffled his feet on the floor a little, then reached up to dial. Six, two, four, four, two. As it whirred back into place, that familiar female voice sounded inside the box. "Please state your name and business."

He almost stated his full name, then thought better on it. He stuttered for a few seconds, his mind drawing a blank. The cool female voice repeated her demand. "Please state your name and business."

"Neville Longbottom," Harry said, remembering his temporarily adopted moniker from his third year. It had worked before, had it not? "I'm here to see the Death Chamber."

"Thank you," said the voice. "Visitors, please take the badges and attach them to the front of your robes."

One, singular badge slipped down the metal chute. Harry lifted it in his fingers to read it, and could not help but laugh.

Neville Longbottom

Death Chamber Visitor

The floor of the telephone box shuddered and the pavement rose up past the glass windows of the telephone box. The golden light flared at his feet, swelling up through the box until he was back in the familiar atrium. As the door opened, Harry could hear the flow of water from the fountain. The security desk was left empty again, just the same as it had been weeks ago. This set Harry's nerves on alert, but he made no motion to prove it. His determination set, Harry set out toward the Department of Mysteries.

He headed first for the lifts, jabbing the down button with an extreme enthusiasm set out by gritting nerves and frustrations. He felt so foolish being here, but it seemed that there was no place else he could go. This was it. Everything Harry needed was here, though he wasn't certain how he knew this. His gut instincts had, on occasion, lead Harry in the wrong direction. This time, however, there was no questioning. Beyond the veil was where his answers lay.

Beyond the veil...

Harry lightly pressed the nine button, and with an echoing clang the gates slid closed and the lift began to descend. No one came at the sound of his fall, as Harry had expected. The Ministry was eerily empty. This provided Harry with a valuable security.

"Department of Mysteries," rang the crystalline female voice. Harry jumped at the unexpected interruption of his thoughts. The grilles slid open, and he stepped out into a massively empty corridor. Torches were lit, casting moving shadows every few feet.

He slipped down the corridor and found himself staring, once again, at that looming black door. The door that had haunted his dreams all last year, and even sometimes now. This was it, Harry told himself.

Harry opened the door to find, once again, the circular room illuminated with blue flames. He allowed the black door to remain open, knowing quite well what would happen if he let it shut. He couldn't afford to get lost now, with time running out and every second just as precious as the one before. This time, however, Harry had instinct playing on his side, as well as experience. His senses propelled him to the right and up five doors, before at last he found himself standing at the very top of the stone tiers.

At their base rested the dais.

He descended the steps with grace, coming to stand next to the ancient passageway that had claimed his godfather's life. Harry felt his body tense unwillingly. Something wasn't right. Once again, he found himself hesitating. What was wrong with this image? The tattered, black veil was swaying lazily in the invisible breeze that emanated from beneath the archway. The stone tiers were still standing, though there was still some evidence of the recent battle that had taken place in this very room only weeks before. There was no one here, and yet Harry knew quite well that he wasn't alone.

Harry stiffened. "Well, this is it," he said with a slightly mournful sigh.

"NO!"

Harry froze.

"Sirius?"

He whirled around, hoping to see his godfather standing at the base of the wooden platform, or near the top of the steps where Harry had just entered. Nothing.

"Don't do it!"

Harry frowned. "Who's there?" He stepped forward. Something cracked beneath his foot, and Harry felt a sharp twinge of pain in his foot. He looked down to find...

...his mirror! Reflected in its shattered surface was his godfather's tormented face. Harry bit his lip against the pain in his foot, the mysterious wound from his dreams reopened in this questionable reality. He leaned down and picked up the mirror, holding it close.

"Sirius?" Harry whispered delicately, as though he were talking to a man who was lying on his death bed. "Sirius, what's wrong?"

"Harry, you can't leave me. Please."

"I'm not leaving you," Harry said with a frown. "I'm coming back."

"Harry, please. Hold on."

His frown deepened. Sirius didn't seem to be hearing him. "Sirius, I'm right here. I'm in the Chamber. I'm coming back. You don't have to worry anymore!"

"Harry, it's a trap. They're trying to trick you. You're not where you think you are."

"I know that!" Harry bellowed. "I just told you, I'm coming back. I know now."

"You can't go."

Angry now beyond comprehension, Harry wanted to curse and fling the mirror across the room. To hell with it. He'd see Sirius and prove him wrong.

Turning to face the dais, Harry stepped forward. He reached out to touch the veil.

"HARRY DON'T!"

This voice was very physical, and present. Harry turned his gaze toward the entrance to find himself staring at Remus. He gazed, stupefied at this phenomenon.

"What-what are you doing here?" Harry asked breathily, taking a step away from the veil.

"I could ask you the same question, Harry," Remus answered lightly. "Come on, get away from there. Killing yourself won't bring Sirius back."

"You can't be....you....you're a werewolf!"

Remus frowned. Not out of annoyance, but out of confusion. "What relevance does this have to you committing suicide, Harry?"

"It's a full moon tonight. You can't be here. You might attack someone."

"Oh," Remus gave a nervous laugh. "Silly, Harry. I took my Wolfsbane tonight."

This didn't convince Harry in the least. Wolfsbane suppressed the violent urges that were typical of a werewolf, but did nothing to prevent the transformation. Something was not right. Warnings were screaming in Harry's head. He needed to get out. Remus seemed to sense this tension, and stepped forward onto one of the tiers.

"Come, Harry," he invited gently. "You're still not well. You need to go back to Mungos."

"I assure you, Professor, I'm quite well now. Thank you for your concerns."

A smile flashed over Remus' features. "No, Harry, you're not. Please. You can trust me."

"Can I?"

There was a long bout of silence in which Harry could hear the wheels turning in Remus' head. At long last, he spoke. His voice was tensed and hard to hear between his clenched teeth.

"Harry, if you do not come with be now I fear I may have to apply force."

The boy grinned, feeling daring. "Yeah? You and what army?"

Of course, no sooner had he asked was Harry's question answered. A number of Ministry goons stepped through the surrounding doors. Wands poised and ready to petrify, or worse, perhaps.

Harry immediately recognized Mad Eye Moody. He saw Nymphandora Tonks come to stand beside Remus. Kinsgsley Shacklebolt, Elphias Dodge, Dedalus Diggle, Emmeline Vance, Sturgis Podmore, Hestia Jones were also among them. His advance guard. Arthur Weasley was among the faces as well. A twinge of betrayal struck his heart, but he swallowed the feeling for now.

"Please Harry, let us help you."

"Go to hell," Harry spat. This did it, though Harry wasn't quite certain what. The next thing he knew there were about a dozen stunning charms flying in his direction. He dodged most of them, and felt the sting of a few, but never took a direct hit. He slid helplessly behind the veil on the other side of the platform, feeling oddly vulnerable without his wand.

"Potter, get out here now and come back with us!"

"No!"

A roar of anger exploded from Remus. He leapt with frightening agility down the stone steps and pulled Harry up on his feet.

"You're coming with us if it's the last thing you do."

There was an odd echo to Remus voice. His touch burned at Harry's skin, and as he glared into Harry's eyes, there was a flash of foreignness within the glimmering orbs that were always so gentle.

"You haven't fooled me," Harry smiled. "Voldemort."

There was a pause. Then, all of a sudden, the image of Remus rippled away, and Lord Voldemort stood before Harry, sneering malevolently with his wicked red eyes gleaming in the darkness. "Very clever, Potter. I figured you had a general idea of what I'd done, but I never thought you'd believe it was me directly. Very clever."

Harry grinned. "Not too bad yourself. I'll give the pleasure of knowing that you almost fooled me."

The smile was returned. "How lovely to know. However, Potter, I am afraid that I cannot let you go through that veil."

"Well, I'm afraid that I can't stay. I'm expected back for tea tomorrow afternoon."

The smiles were gone. Anger flashed through Voldemort's eyes. "You are a fool, boy, if you think you have no reason to fear me here. I am just as dangerous here as I am in the waking world."

"Perhaps you are," Harry stated. The images of the other faces shimmered, reverting back to their true form. He recognized the faces of Dolohov and Macnair, Malfoy, Crabbe, Rodolphus, Jugson, Nott, and the one that Harry hated almost as much as the monster that stood before him; Bellatrix Lestrange.

She mustered a wave along with a mock-flirtatious smile. Harry merely frowned.

"I am. Rest assured, Potter. I can kill you now. Leave you drifting in a bottomless ocean, and your godfather alone for the rest of his existence. If he can stand it." A furtive grin danced across Voldemort's face. "Aside from you, I do enjoy tormenting him the most. You should have seen the look on his face when he discovered the bodies of your mother and father." Voldemort paused in hopes that this would bring some sort of reaction from Harry. It didn't. "I imagine your death would leave him without purpose. What a pity. His talents were always so highly regarded when he worked against us."

"Which he will do again," Harry said through clenched teeth.

Voldemort shook his head. "Not if I can help it."

A battle ensued all of a sudden. Harry, without his wand, could only duck and run. He cursed as his feet brought him farther and farther from the dais. This wouldn't work. He needed a way to defend himself.

You're a fool, said a voice in Harry's head. This is your world. Summon your wand. You don't need to obey the rules of reality here.

Closing his eyes tightly, Harry mentally summoned his wand. No sooner did he open them did he find it sitting in his right hand, rumbling eagerly to join in on the battle. Harry grinned, standing to face off with the first approaching Death Eater.

Dolohov.

The man was down in an instant, and Harry was fleeing back toward the Dais, drawing up defenses at every angle so that he would not be struck down in his dash. He was able to reach the platform, but stopped there. Bellatrix had leapt into his path, her face bent in a very grotesque smile.

"Hello Harry," she said, inching forward casually. "So good to be seeing you, again."

"Can't say the same for you I'm afraid."

Bellatrix frowned in mock offense. "No? Shame. We're family you know. You and I. My cousin being your godfather and all, we're legally related."

"That so?" said Harry in a very dismal tone, as though he were responding to a very boring question in History of Magic. "Well please don't be offended if I disregard that when I kick your ass."

"Oh, I wouldn't be," said Bellatrix with a malevolent grin. "I hope that you feel the same way when I kick yours. And what a mouth. I don't think your mummy and daddy would be to happy to hear their baby boy--"

"Oh, shut it!" Harry spat. He whipped up his wand and sent her spiraling off the platform. She flew with a scream of terror that made Harry grin despite his current circumstances. Harry prepared himself to leap through the veil at that last instant, but something held him back.

"POTTER!"

It wasn't Voldemort's voice. It wasn't Dumbledore, it wasn't Sirius, or Remus, or Ron, Hermione, or Ginny. Yet Harry knew that voice well, for it had always called him by that name in a very drawl tone with a sneering face. It was a face that brought forth the worst in himself and his godfather, as well as the worst of many of his peers.

Harry turned to find Severus Snape at the top of the stairs, his gaze barreling through Harry with what was unmistakable relief despite his true feelings for the boy.

"What the--?" But Harry wasn't given time to react. In an instant Snape drew his wand. A jet of silver propelled from its tip and caught Harry full in the chest. He toppled over, falling through the veil with nothing but Voldemort's angry screams following him into the darkness.


(Maniacal laughter) Okay, one more chapter left to go. Hope this was all right, guys. Like I said, I'm sick so you're going to have to bear with me.

Anyway, I left a few comments for some of my more consistent reviewers. A token of appreciation. All of your words meant so very much to me, but I wanted to address everyone personally. (I know it makes me feel special if someone does that to me in their story.)

Well, here you go. Next chapter will be up as soon as I stop sneezing every ten seconds. Take care, all.


Aurorawolf; Your reviews are always a joy to read. Thank you so much!

AJ. of Gryffindor; Glad you like the story so far. I hope that it continues to your liking.

The Greater Dog; I'm sorry for making you cry. I know I've been near that point numerous times during this story. I really like overflowing my stuff with angst. Sorry.

Elenestar; Your reviews always bring a smile to my face. Thank you so much for all your kind and encouraging words.

WolfMoon; Wow, a celebrity! Lol, just kidding (wink) Congratulations on all your stories that have reached 1000 reviews. I wish I could have something like that sitting on my plate. I'm hoping this story will have a good take off once it's finished, but my stuff seems to die once I write "The End,". Ah well. Glad you like the story. I hope to hear more from you in the future. (smiles)

Lady Taliesin; Your reviews have been a great encouragement and blessing throughout this ordeal. (hugs) I appreciate all of your reviews, you have no idea how much they all mean to me. Thank you so much for your support in this story. (smile)

Ginny M; Lol, your reviews always make me smile. Thank you so much for your kind and encouraging words.

Dracofan99; And your reviews always make me laugh, not to mention blush on more than one occasion. (laughs) You are certainly "worthy" as you say. Your reviews certainly are very encouraging, and I'm thrilled that you like the story so much. Your last review for chapter ten was very sweet. I thank you very much. (hugs) I hope I can live up to your expectations. I don't know about being another J.K. Rowling, but maybe I'll be blessed with a fraction of the popularity that was bestowed upon her.

Totallystellar; Once again, I can only thank you for all of your encouragement throughout this story. Your reviews meant a great deal to me. Bless you.

Snuffles16; First of all, love the name. (winks) Thank you for all your reviews.

Icy Tears; Thank you very much for all your reviews. Do you have an account here? I'd love to see some of your work. (smiles)

Mrs-Osborne's-class; Last, but certainly not least. I cannot thank you enough for all your kind words and encouraging reviews. Not just in this story, but with others as well. I can always count on you to drop in and comment on my Harry Potter stories, and that means a great deal to me. You're one of my most cherished reviewers. Thank you so much for all your kind words, both past and present, and hopefully, in the future as well. (many hugs to you)

To Anyone Whom I Missed; I am terribly sorry! Please, forgive me! Your review(s) was (were) highly appreciated, and I'm sorry I never got around to acknowledging you. Thank you very much


To any and all who are interested in seeing the image described in the previous chapter, please return to my bio page. The link is there under Chamber of Keys.