This chapter is dedicated to my best friend who is currently painting her room, or rather, having friends paint her room, and, ahem, tape the ceiling. You know who you are. (I didn't use your name outright – hah!)
Chapter 3: Flight
An abrupt noise woke me up from my slumber. I sat up immediately and rubbed my eyes, grabbing my glasses. My scar prickled.
The sensation forced my muscles taut and made me inch my way up the wall into a tense ready position.
The pain in my scar felt like a dozen dull pins being drawn up and down over my forehead in the shape of the lightning bolt – irritating only, but filling me with an acute unease. I could feel the pain getting worse. It felt as though the former pinpricks were being pushed with more force, and soon, they felt much more like just-sharpened razors. It dug deeper until I felt like the pain was tearing through my forehead through to the other side of my head. It was unbearable....I was dying....I was dead.
And suddenly, it all disappeared. A haze that had enveloped my mind was gone. I knew by instinct what had happened.
Lord Voldemort was at Azkaban Prison.
A flash of red light briefly illuminated the corridor outside my cell. A dull thump sounded.
I looked out between the bars of my cell. He lay at my feet with a glazed look over his eyes – it was Epp. I reached out between the bars and checked his pulse – it beat against my fingers. I wasn't sure how to feel.
But somehow my mind felt clearer than ever. My thoughts, feelings were all there and accessible.
The dementors must have left to let Voldemort and his Death Eaters do whatever they intended to do with their minds unobstructed. But why now...? The question hung awkwardly – unanswered - in my mind.
Footsteps thudded on the corridor, and I was jerked violently from my train of thought.
There was another jolt in my scar. The meaning was exceedingly clear to me. Voldemort was inside Azkaban now….Dozens of cracks resounded – rescuers, perhaps? I knew I was clutching to a blind hope before the thought was even fully formed. They were Death Eaters; it was obvious. Besides, I knew that no one would be willing to help me now. The fight would belong utterly to me.
The voice that had echoed for so long in my head sounded once more in reality. Voldemort.
"My dear Death Eaters," said the high, cold voice. My scar burned violently in response. Silence settled on the prison as all within earshot seemed to quiet down, "It is finally time to take back what belongs to us. Years ago this place was mine. But I knew it was not enough. I knew that if I let the Ministry think that they had taken it back it would give them false confidence and, they would put in more death eaters. And of course, the recapture of Azkaban would look good for Fudge. I understand that I need to keep him in office. Despite his failings, the fool is rather useful, I suppose we can call it – he does half of our work for us, thinking he's helping his own side."
"But now, I've decided now is the time to take it back and free the loyal death eaters who have waited patiently for me to put my plans in motion…And yes, Harry Potter is also here." Chuckles were heard from the death eaters. "Today, I have decided, today…our dear little hero will join his departed parents. Today, the Prophecy that was made so long ago about that child and myself will be fulfilled and the nuisance will be removed forever - for Lord Voldemort always triumphs in the end."
Kill or be killed? I didn't even have a weapon. The Prophecy would be fulfilled and I would be the one to die.
The throbbing pain in my scar erupted in flame.
Voldemort's pale face was staring intently at me through the bars. His eyes flared and held mine captive like a cobra. His presence wound itself into my mind, easily knocking down the feeble wall I had just erected. I was begging and pleading with Epp. I was lying on my back staring at the ceiling. A burst of gold light surrounded me. I was dreaming about Voldemort killing a girl. I felt the frigid presence of the Dementors. I felt my past tug at my mind. "So you're not insane," he whispered softly. "That is well, it will give me more pleasure to have you die and know that you have failed."
I glared defiantly at him.
Voldemort's white lips curled into a smile. "Do you find any power out of defiance? Admit it, Potter, you're powerless. You've been tumbling back and forth off the brink of insanity for nearly two years now. You have no weapon, you have no friends, and this time, no one is going to save you. There is no one to die for you; there is no longer anyone who would die for you." His eyes met mine again. "You can't lie to me. I can see it all in your mind. You feel betrayed by your friends. You want to hate them, but you have only those fleeting memories of them for solace. You doubt them. How could Dumbledore have been right when he's dead and everyone who believed in you no longer do?" His gaze got more intense. "Do you still believe in your old ideals? Am I as bad as I was, now that your friends have hurt you more than I ever can?"
"It never would have happened if it weren't for you."
The Dark Lord scoffed gently. "You Gryffindors always try to assign all the blame to one person....But it is they who wronged you with their distrust. Can you not see their weakness – my glory? We share a common enemy. And you too are ready to kill to defend that which you believe in – that which you love. I, Harry, I love magic. You should understand the euphoria of knowing that you have power over those who wronged you – the muggles - your aunt, your uncle, your fat oaf of a cousin. Do you not understand, Harry?"
"You're wrong," I said rigidly. "What you're doing is wrong. I know that they're not all like that."
Voldemort laughed coldly. "Have you seen any proof otherwise? Those who loved you now hate you and those left have always hated you. Where is the justice in that?"
I didn't answer.
"You sense it but you won't allow yourself to see it. You're so close to it, Harry."
"I'm not like you."
He placed the tip of his wand on my cheek. "I have only to speak two words and you will no longer be with us. The Prophecy will be fulfilled and no one will be able to stop me." He broke his gaze and his presence disappeared from my head. "Good-bye, Harry. Avada – "
Something inside me suddenly triggered.
An odd flash of gold light obscured my vision which quickly disappeared. I knew instinctively that the unbreakable charm on one of the bars was gone now. Summoning strength from somewhere in the deep recesses of my body I kicked the bar down. There was enough space for me to slip out. I pushed myself out in another burst of energy.
The incantation of the killing curse was never completed. I pummeled into Voldemort with my shoulder and I saw a faint look of surprise in his features. He faltered. And it was enough to allow me a chance of an escape. I pushed random Death Eaters out of the way as I ran. I took extra pleasure in seeing Bellatrix Lestrange's furious face.
I ran – ran faster than I had ever done in my life with some unknown energy fuelling me.
The furious voice of Voldemort rang down the hallway, "GET HIM!!!"
But I was already out of sight…but I knew I wasn't safe yet. I ran until I reached the main exit of the prison. Yes! I was going to make it….I was going to make it....I was going to make it….I repeated the words in a comforting mantra to myself. I was going to make it.
A suffocating cold hit me…My mind immediately felt clouded and sluggish….The Dementors….They were here – imposing black shapes, gliding silently…deadly…They were coming closer…Water! They couldn't glide across water…I had to reach the water…
I stumbled awkwardly down the small slope that separated me from salvation. I plunged myself into the ice-cold water, robes and all. I kicked and paddled desperately until the prison that had held me for the last year and several months disappeared out of sight. I was free. I was free….I was FREE!!!
I swam on. And on and on and on for what seemed to be an eternity.
What had at first seemed a refreshing cold now clung icily to my body and saturated into my now weighted robes. My adrenaline was running out. Each second was a desperate draining of my energy in the vain attempt to stay afloat. I looked around desperately for any semblance of land but there was nothing there…Black appeared around the edges of my vision…My strength was gone.
The blackness overwhelmed me.
**
A/N: I'm sorry that I took so long to get this chapter rewritten and out again. I admit that I've been rather lazy. But now that it is Spring Break, I'll hopefully get some writing in. I like this new version. I really like what I made Voldemort say.
TODAY IS MARCH 15TH – THE REAL IDES OF MARCH! It was one of the reasons I felt obliged to post this today. I actually wrote this whole thing in one sitting. I know it's shorter than the original, but this seemed like a really good place to end the chapter.
Reviews? Just click the button down there.
P.S. Sorry for the disjointed author's note.
~Lisa