Disclaimer: Not mine, and never will be.
A/N: This is the chapter whose content dramatically from the first version of Subservience.
And I know it's been a while so here's a recap of what's happened so far:
Harry was put in Azkaban for the murder of Albus Dumbledore (Bellatrix Lestrange actually killed him). During the Wizengamot trial, he was given Veritaserum that didn't work and he 'confessed' to the crime. Ron and Hermione are shocked and feel that Harry has betrayed them. Harry gets sent to Azkaban where he reaches the brink of insanity and considers his guilt. One day, he sees this 'gold dust'. His eyes slide out of focus and he feels like he's floating about his body. It clears his mind and Harry realizes that he's innocent and he begins to feel betrayed by his friends. Voldemort attacks and Harry escapes Azkaban while nearly drowning.
A/N2: Maria Neuman is NOT a Mary-Sue and she doesn't pose as a romantic interest for Harry. In fact, we'll probably never be seeing her again after this chapter (or maybe the next).
Chapter Four: The First Beginning
It was a startling contrast. I opened my eyes blearily and immediately closed them. From that one brief glimpse, I had been assaulted by a barrage of light. I groaned.
There was an abrupt scream.
I sat up, and forced my eyes apart, wincing at the sudden intensity. My hand snapped to my wrist, where my wand would have been. Except, I reminded myself, it hadn't; it hadn't been there for a very long time. My eyes darted to the origin of the scream.
"Hi," I croaked out, embarrassed. It was just a harmless woman, in a clinical white jacket, looking very scared, with a clipboard thrust in front of her like a shield. "I'm s-s-" I started coughing uncontrollably. The woman rushed forward to help and then backed away slightly as the coughs got worse.
"Water," I rasped, in between too hacking coughs.
The woman rushed away out of the room, presumably to get some water.
I surveyed the room. The walls were a stark white and the bed was white. It reminded me very much of the Hogwarts Hospital Wing. I would have mistaken it for Hogwarts if it wasn't for the obviously muggle needle hooked into my arm and the other machinery lying around me.
Muggles....What if….
Hermione's voice came, shrill, accusing, and raspy in desperation, in disbelief, then, Ron's quiet statements. And then Voldemort. I heard his laugh – his laugh was colder than a grave in winter and his eyes – the colour of blood with onyx slits for pupils, the chalk face stretched over a gaunt skull, those long fingers, and those thin lips that formed the words of death. Death. I saw the grey veil that fluttered in the still air. And Azkaban. The Dementors….The cold….The screams…
I couldn't….I couldn't go back. I couldn't go….They couldn't know about it. I couldn't go back there….Please….
"Mister?" came the frightened voice.
It jolted me back to reality. She didn't know who I was...she couldn't….She would have done something already, came avoice of logic, so long suppressed by the deafening veil of Azkaban. But that did nothing to stop the wave of fear that descended over me or the panic that made my fingers itch for a wand.....I wanted to get away from here. I wanted to go somewhere safe….I didn't want to go back to the screams and the blood and the cold….
"Your water?" She presented me the glass very slowly.
I looked at her blankly before taking the water and tipping it gingerly down my throat. "Thank you."
She stood there dumbly for a moment before she rushed forward and pulled out a horde of metal instruments and began poking and prodding me with them. I winced as she jabbed a bit too hard.
"I'm sorry," she said. "I'm kind of new at this whole thing. I'm –" She looked down exasperatedly. "Try to make the patient comfortable and make sure they know who you are." the woman muttered very rapidly, "That's what Aunt Alma said." Her eyes darted back up. "I'm sorry. My name's Maria, er, I mean Dr. Neuman."
One part of me wanted to run away and crawl into some people-less hole while another part wanted to laugh at the doctor. It was so unreal after suffering so long – such normality. It was hard to believe that such a thing existed anymore.
"I-I'm your doctor," she said rather pointlessly. "Who are you?"
She didn't know who I was. I was safe. I wasn't going to be going back to Azkaban. There wasn't going to any more of it...the Dementors...I wasn't going to....
I gripped a corner of my blanket tightly.
"I mean –" Dr. Neuman looked down again, completely immersed in her own little world, "Be polite, Maria, always be polite without being too forcefully conversational." She blushed. "Well, Mister er…, Mister No-name, you were found in a bad state three days ago on the shore of a beach in Aberdeenshire. You didn't have any identification on you or any lifejacket or anything. The owner of the beach was nice of enough to bring you here, and I've been tending you since then. A-and I'm very interested in finding out about you."
I looked at her for a long time.
"So, who are you?" Dr Neuman asked nervously.
I said nothing.
"What's your name?"
"My name's Michael Simmons," I murmured finally, picking a very common first name and last name.
She brought out a pen and began writing very rapidly on her clipboard. "Can you tell me anything else about yourself?" she asked eagerly. "Anything will do. It's not that I want to know, or anything, it's just standard hospital policy."
My eyes descended to my hands. Her nervousness was unnatural....I was so far from Azkaban, the frigid sea crumbling away the walls, the screams, the bars dark with desperate stains, the creatures who had no faces, and the past....The room was so white, so clean that it didn't make sense. How could a place like this exist in the same world as my prison? How could Voldemort be living in the same world? How could I live?
I was scared. I could feel it coursing through my veins, the cold spreading to the tips of my fingers.
"Mr. Simmons?" came a voice that seemed to echo from far away.
I could feel it in my mind, in the past, and in my shaking hands.
I wanted to leave.
"Harry Potter."
I whipped around at the sound, the hairs on the back of my neck tingling. It was Voldemort's voice. But it was my mouth that moved, twisting themselves around the familiar words. But it was not Harry Potter that I was speaking to. I was looking down at a body; I realized with a lurch, my body. It looked almost peaceful, the way that its arms were lain out beside the body and the way that the eyes were closed. But the scar was bleeding.
"Harry Potter," I said again, my lips curling delightfully, "it has been so long. But it is over." I glanced up at the ring of Death Eaters that surrounded me, and looked each of my followers carefully in the eye. "The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches..." I murmured "Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies....Who has died now with the seventh month."
Finishing my circle, I lowered myself to the ground reverently, bent over the dead body. Pale fingers plucked softly at the pasty, dead skin, and I brought it up to the forehead, gazing at the still-bleeding scar. I took the sleeve of my robe and gently wiped away most of the pooling blood, ignoring as the warm blood absorbed into the fabric and trailed up my arm. I traced the shape that was cut deep into the forehead. I treasured the feel of the viscous liquid that seemed to seep into my fingers. It stood out in such contrast against my pale skin. I pulled out my wand with my left hand, and followed the route that the cut provided again.
"Scalpere fulmen."
A thin jet of silver light eddied out, going deep into the lightning bolt scar. It concentrated there, brilliant silver shining keenly in the night. The light spread, and the thin scar expanded. More blood came pouring out. I ignored it and focused on the spell. It was working. The scar was nearly indistinguishable now. The head was twisted beyond recognition. There was only an oversized incision vaguely in the shape of a lightning bolt left in a bloody mass.
Then there was only green.
I screamed. My forehead was still bleeding. Every inch of my body was covered in cold sweat, and my heart was pounding madly. My scar was burning...there was a fire embedded inside it or a piece of ice or a thousand stabs....
"What's wrong?!" cried an alarmed voice.
I moaned.
"Mr. Simmons! Wake up!!!"
"I'm d-dead...."
"Mr. Simmons!! Please!" I felt cold hands pushing at me as I thrashed wildly. "Please," said the same voice in a low whisper, "please be alright....Please...."
"I'm dead....I'm dead....I'm dead...."
The pain slowly disappeared.
"Please....you will be alright."
I opened my eyes. I was at the hospital and a panicked Neuman was hovering above me. She backed away quickly.
"I..." I trailed off, "J-just go away...."
She ignored me, and came closer.
"Go away," I whispered painfully.
"I won't go away," she said firmly.
"Go...Go away!" I gasped unsteadily. "GO AWAY!"
She looked at me with pityin her eyes.
"GO AWAY!!!" I bellowed. "I DON'T WANT YOU HERE!"
"Relax, Mr. Simmons, just relax," she said in a clinical tone. "I know I may be an idiot with new patients but it's obvious you need someone's help right now."
"How can you....Just go away!"
She repeated, "You need help."
"I....you....You can't even begin to help me," I laughed bitterly. "You wouldn't even believe me."
"I need to help you, Mr. Simmons."
"I could kill you."
"Mr. Simmons...." said Dr. Neuman, seemingly at a loss for words.
"I could kill you," I repeated, ignoring her. "I've killed others - my parents, Cedric, Dumbledore, Sirius. I could kill you. I could kill myself. It's so easy, you know....I just....If so many people believe it, it must be true," I said abrasively, mostly to myself. "It's just so much easier that way...."
"You...you need sleep....You'll be more reasonable in the morning." Dr. Neuman reached for the tangled mass of my blankets, and smoothed it out. "Just sleep. You've had a tough while, and I'm sure you'll feel better in the morning -"
I grabbed her wrist roughly before she could continue. There was fear in her eyes – a raw animal fear that I had seen so many times in Azkaban. I knew that that look had been seen in my eyes countless times. I loosened my grip. "Just go," I whispered in a barely audible voice. "I...I don't want to do all this again. I h-h-hate this...."
"It's okay," was the soft response. "We'll help you through this...."
I sighed painfully, and crawled into my blankets.
The world turned, and rippled around me. "...okay....It's okay...."
"...'s not okay," I muttered fitfully. I blinked furiously, and settled into the haze.
A maternal hand swept across my forehead...not a hand, a piece of cloth. It felt deliciously cool. I could nearly see it wiping away blood; the discomfort I had not even noticed until it was gone. I gave a mumbled thanks, and fell into a fitful sleep.
A/N: Scalpere fulmen is literally, 'to cut lightning' in Latin. Again, I'm sorry about the long wait, but with summer here, I should be able to update more often (until September at least.)
Here's a contest. Obviously, I took a long break in writing this, and I believe my writing style changed at least somewhat. If one of you readers can guess between which two paragraphs I paused in my writing, I'll answer a question of your choice about this fic (spoilers!.)
Review replies:
I-want-to-fly: Thanks, I'm glad you like it.
Dragon Voldemort: I'm just a slow updater, but yes, this story is still quite high up on my 'To-Write List'.
Air Pirate 96: Here you are.
Jeanne2: Aw shucks
Dead feather: I hope this isn't too much of a spoiler: his innocence is...how should I say...selective. It is an important issue though. Most of it'll be covered within the next several chapters. Wow, that was cryptic....
R Amythest: Thanks, love the emotions too. I'm an evil, evil angst writer.
Geminidragon: Well, my favourite Harry Azkaban fics are Betrayed by kateydidnt and Redemption by krtshadow. The styles are quite different from this fic, but they're definitely worth a read.
Olivia Wood: Hopefully the next chapter won't take as long.
Authoress: Aw...that just makes me grin.
Andrea: You should be thankful that you didn't read the first version of this fic shudders. I'm really flattered that you like my fic, especially coming from you, the-brilliant-author-who-is-plagued-by-theory-and-other-excuses-and-should-really-continue-writing.
Azntgr01: Thanks!
Froboy: Thanks!
Numba1: Heh...you're interested....An update will come (eventually).
HongMing: Thanks, and I'll try to update.
Rubberduckie713: Thanks though I personally aren't as sure as you are about my writing style. It's gone through a lot with me, and it just keeps on changing....
Nixie dark: Don't worry, everyone will go through their fair share of pain before this fic is over. And there's a sequel (in the far future) with even more additional pain.
Bulma: Thanks, and I'll try!
Kneazles: Yeah, I'm a real genius (engaging in sarcasm since 1989).
Kokopuff: Erised is dead and gone, though it may be rewritten after every other writing project I'm working on right now is finished.
HAZZAGRIFF: Pam and Irv are gone, but you can just worry about Dr. Maria Neuman now.
Mella: That just shows that I'm a filthy liar.
PhoenixPadfoot89: My chapters are short, and getting shorter. sighs
Skysong15: It has been a very long while.
Lop-Lop: When was the last time I actually saw you....
Amrit: You suck. Rupert Grint doesn't. Heh.
Wanderingwolf: Yes, Evanescence does rule....
Gold Silk: Lots more will happen.
Unzum: I hope this wasn't another cliffhanger....
Hahfe: I did it!
Facade1: I didn't wait a month. I waited three months....looks down at feet I'm sorry....
Lindee: You're making me blush.
FayeValentine00: I love it when I inspire violence toward computers....
Ferdia: Thanks!
Tim Gold: Well, romance isn't very prominent in this story. But I can tell you that Harry won't be paired up with anyone, and there will be some very mild Ron/Hermione in the future.
Rain Warrior: I've still not heard of Blue yet.
Mella: I'm an idiot.