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Chapter Six: A scavenger hunt, more stolen wands, and a deepening mystery.

It was still early afternoon when Ron heard a familiar voice humming as it approached his cell.

"Harry?" he called out tentatively, "Is that you out there?"

"Ron!" was the joyful reply, "There you are! How did you end up at the opposite side of prison? It took us much longer to find you than it ought to have done."

"Us? Who's with you?"

"Well," Harry answered, "Let's see, we've got Tonks, Hermione, and oddly enough Fred and George. I didn't even know that they were here, did you? Found them completely by accident. I did a locator spell and tuned it to the closest Weasley and there they were! I suppose they picked up as strongest because there were two of them and they were together. Anyway…"

"Fred and George are there? And Hermione? How are you Hermione? Are you feeling better than you were when they brought us here? What happened? What did they do to you?"

"What?" Tonks interjected, "You don't care about me?"

"Oh, sorry Tonks," Ron apologized, "it's just that, well…"

"Oh, I know. I'm not family and you're not in love with me."

Ron blushed and was thankful still to be in his cell where no one could witness his reaction, "Right."

After a long delay, Hermione finally spoke, "I'm alright Ron, well… not alright, but I will be. I'm starting to feel a little better."

"But what happened to you?"

"That's a good question," Harry commented, "What did happen to you Hermione?"

She sighed heavily, "When I was taken into custody, I was left alone for a few minutes with the dementors. By the time the Ministry Officials thoughts to check on me, one of them was getting ready to kiss me. I'm not entirely sure that it didn't actually. I feel like a part of me is missing- ripped away."

"Is that possible?" Ron asked, horrified, "Can dementors tear away a part of a person's soul?"

"All signs point to yes," cried Harry's inappropriately cheerful voice.

"Is there something the matter with you as well?" Ron asked nervously.

"Definitely," answered Fred and George, "he's making us look sober and sensible."

"And he won't stop singing!" Tonks added.

"He's full of nonsense," Fred agreed, "I think that being here has cooked his brain."

"Too a soupy mush," George finished.

"Right," Ron muttered, "Of course. Well. Can he get me out of here?"

"Of course I can!" Harry chirped, "Alohamora!" the door swung open. Ron exited.

"Oh!" said the voice from the next cell, "Are you letting people out then? Can I come?"

Harry shrugged, "Okay. Alohamora!"

Ron wished that Harry wouldn't be so hasty. He still didn't know anything about the person in the next cell- except that the Ministry of Magic had seen fit to employ him. It wasn't the strongest of recommendations.

A man stepped out of the newly opened cell. He looked to be in his forties and had nondescript brown hair and faded blue eyes with a startled expression, "Odd," he commented, "everything seems so large now that I'm not in that tiny cell anymore."

"Right," said Ron. He decided to cut to the heart of the matter, "Do you remember your name yet?"

"Oh!" said the man formerly known as 'the voice', completely sidestepping the issue, "Are you the fellow I've been talking to? I'm very pleased to see you in person," he held out his hand to shake.

George took the hand that was offered and shook it, "No," he answered, "Not me. I think you're looking for my brother.

The man turned to Fred, "No," Fred corrected, "the other brother," he pointed at Ron, "That one."

It was at that point that Ron began to really question the man's sanity. He heard Harry giggle. And there was yet another person to worry about…

"I'm very pleased to see you in person," the man repeated, this time addressing Ron.

"Charmed, I'm sure," Ron said with a weak smile, "Lovely to see you. So. What was your name again?" but the man had wandered off down the hallway. Brilliant.

"I wonder how long he's been here?" Harry said with a laugh.

"Too long," Hermione answered quietly, "We've all been here too long. We should leave."

Harry shrugged, "Where would we go? We don't even know where we are. I suggest that since we're going to be here for a while anyway, we might as well have some fun. I suggest a scavenger hunt!" his eyes lit up, "We've only got two wands between us, so let's find some more! We'll each track down as many guards as we can find, and we'll steal their wands! It'll be great fun!"

"What about the other order members?" Ron asked, "At what about the man that you just let out? We can't just leave him to wander around! We don't even know who he is!"

Harry's expression became mock-serious. He nodded solemnly, "Indeed, you are correct," his face broke into smiles again, "What kind of scavenger hunt has only one item? We also have to look for incarcerated order members and for that man who went down the hall that way," he gestured in the direction the man had taken, "Oh! And we should also look for bottles of Butter Beer!"

"How does that help us?" Ron wasn't really sure that he wanted to know.

Harry looked at him as though he'd lost his mind, "It doesn't! What did you think? I'm thirsty is all," he turned to look at the others, "Does anyone else want a Butter Bear?"

"Can I have a Ginger Ale?" asked Hermione.

"Of course you can!" Harry answered magnanimously, "Won't somebody fetch the lady a Ginger Ale?"

Ron threw up his hands in disgust. It looked like he was the only one who really cared about what was going to happen. He would just have to stay with the others, keeping a close eye on them. Somebody had to make sure they didn't hurt themselves…

-

Thirty minutes later, Ron sat disconsolately at a table in what seemed to be some sort of cafeteria or staff lounge. At any rate, wherever they were, there was a decent sized stock of Butter Beer. That had been enough to convince Harry that they ought to stay there for a bit and 'rest up'. Ron had tried to talk him out of it to no avail.

"But we're in the middle of a prison!" he'd protested.

Harry had only shrugged and said, "Makes it interesting, doesn't it? Think of all of the stories you and Hermione'll be able to tell your grandkids!" He had then had the nerve to ruffle Ron's hair. Ron and Hermione both had blushed furiously.

And that was that.

Nothing whatsoever had been done to find the missing order members or the missing prisoner. And they still had only two wands.

Given the tenuousness of their position, Harry's confidence seemed a bit excessive.

"Shouldn't we leave already?" Ron wrestled internally with himself before speaking again, "We still have several items for the scavenger hunt which we haven't ticked off yet," he managed a smile, but it was weak and sickly.

"That's the spirit Ron!" Harry clapped him on the back, "You're quite right!"

Hermione's eyes grew wide, "But I'm not finished with my drink yet!" she protested. Harry had shown off his abilities with wandless magic and transfigured a bottle of Butter Beer into a can of Ginger Ale with a white straw. Hermione was savouring the Ginger Ale. She had been drinking it for almost twenty minutes now and Ron suspected that she could easily take at least twenty more.

Fred and George were sitting on the floor in the corner of the room building exploding card castles with a deck they'd found and laughing uproariously each time one blew up.

Tonks had found a hand mirror and she seemed to be trying to 'liven up' her appearance. It wasn't working. She had managed to change her features several times, but each new configuration was as unattractive as the last and her hair colour had not budged from dishwater brown. Ron sympathized with her, he really did. He just didn't want her fussing with her appearance when thee were more important things they could all be doing.

It was a hopeless situation.

Yes, he was at least out of his cell, but he might just as well have stayed for all the use it did him being 'free'. He still couldn't leave the island and his co-conspirators- or rebels, as Harry insisted they be called, were useless. Worse than useless.

Ron was beginning to have a fairly good idea of what it felt like to be depressed. He was almost tempted to go and build an exploding card castle with Fred and George. Almost.

"Hermione," he said, "You can take your drink with you, but we really ought to be leaving…"

The timing was of course, perfect. At the exact moment that Ron spoke, he heard the approach of a pair of guards. He listened to their voices. They were familiar.

"What are we going to do?" the voice belonged to guard one- the alarmist.

"I don't know," guard two sounded as nervous as guard one.

"How did they get out? Where are they?" he paused, "They're going to kill us, aren't they? They said they'd kill us!!"

Guard two tried unsuccessfully to calm his companion, "Maybe not. Maybe they were jus' trickin' on us," he didn't sound sure. That, Ron decided, was probably why guard one wasn't comforted.

"I don't think they sounded like they were kidding."

Harry had, by that time, noticed the conversation taking place on the other side of the door. A decidedly wicked grin spread itself across his face.

Ron sighed resignedly. Harry was going to do something. It would probably be flashy and unnecessary, but it would end with guards confined and out of harms way less their wands. Ron decided not to interfere. He could use a wand.

Harry swung the door open just as one of the guards was reaching to open it, "Boo!" he shouted.

The guard stood frozen. His companion turned and ran. No idiot, that fellow, Ron thought to himself, He knows exactly where not to be.

The guard didn't run fast enough.

Harry quietly whispered a charm and the escaping guard flew up and adhered to the ceiling.

The remaining guard began to pray, "Dear Lord in Heaven, blessed be thy name. Please be with me in these times of troubles and carry me safely…"

Ran recognized the voice of guard one, "What's your name?" he asked, interrupting the prayer.

The guard gulped nervously, "It's Trevor," he answered. His voice quivered.

Ron studied the man. He had round dark eyes and a large wide mouth with fleshy lips. His body was round and he had no neck to speak of. His limbs were long and bony. They seemed quite out of place with the rest of him.

"Trevor," said Harry thoughtfully, "I know a Trevor…"

Ron could see where that was going. The only Trevor he and Harry knew of belonged to their friend Neville. Trevor was a frog.

"Do you know," Harry continued conversationally, "you sort of look like him."

Ron could see where that was going. He had to admit though, that it was true. The man did look an awful lot like a frog. He was even a bit greenish… like he was going to be sick…

Harry snapped his fingers and Trevor the guard became Trevor the frog.

Trevor the frog croaked.

"And now we've got four wands!" Harry crowed picking up Trevor's wand from the floor. He tossed it to Ron, "Here you are."

"What about us?" asked Fred and George.

"Well," said Harry, "There aren't quite enough wands for you each to have your own quite yet, but it you don't mind sharing for a space, I'll do my best to find another soon."

He pointed at the second guard who was still firmly affixed to the ceiling and shouted, "Accio wand!"

The guard's face fell. The rest of him followed shortly after. Harry had apparently decided not to leave him on the ceiling. Harry handed the wand to George, who happened to be nearest at hand.

Meanwhile, Hermione had picked up Trevor-formerly-the-guard-now-the-frog. She put him in her pocket.

Harry looked speculatively at the second guard, "Do you think a wand that was really just a transfigured prison guard would work as well as an ordinary wand?"

"It's worth a try," answered Fred, after unsuccessfully trying to take possession of George's new wand.

The guard disappeared and a wand clattered to the floor in his place. It looked to be made of cherry wood and was about eight inches long. Fred picked it up.

"Wingardium Leviosa!" Fred pointed the wand at the chair Ron had recently vacated. The chair's resulting movements brought to mind a drunken shuffle.

"Well," George shrugged, "It's better than nothing, isn't it?"

Fred glared, "If you like it so much, how about if you give me your wand and I'll let you have this one."

Tonks was clearly trying not to laugh. She wasn't entirely successful. A strangled titter escaped from behind the hand over her mouth.

The chair continued to dance.

"Would you stop it already?" Fred frustratedly addressed the chair.

The chair danced out the door and down the hall.

"Don't you think… Shouldn't you go after it?" Ron asked.

Fred continued to glare.

"I know!" said Harry, "Let's add a dancing chair to the list of items on the scavenger hunt!"

"Let's not," said Fred.

George snickered.

Hermione pulled Trevor the frog from her pocket and began speaking softly to him.

Ron was at a loss. Was there such a thing as cruel and unusual treatment of a prison guard by and escaping inmate? And if so, would he, as a witness to the event, also be considered culpable… and prosecutable? He didn't know and he wasn't sure that he wanted to know. This was turning into a very bad day. Yes, he had (in theory at least) escaped from prison, but he couldn't leave the island, so it was pretty well a moot point. Also, he was stuck with what might as well have been a handful of refugees from an insane asylum- otherwise known as his friends and family.

Yes. It was definitely a bad day.

"I'm tired," said Hermione.

And that was another thing. Do souls grow back? Well- not entire souls, but if someone was missing only a small piece, would it come back?

Ron hoped so.

He loved Hermione, he really did, but the fact was, she wasn't really herself just now. Ron wasn't sure how to deal with that. How to deal with her.

"I need to sleep," she said, "and I'm thirsty."

Ron eyed her with misgiving as she took a sip of her Ginger Ale. He wasn't sure of the time, but it couldn't be that late. As far as he could tell, it wasn't even time for dinner yet.

Hermione was practically in tears.

Is that a side effect of a fractured soul? Ron wondered.

"Please? Ron? Could you fetch me a drink?" Hermione continued to sip Ginger Ale through the white plastic straw. Ron wasn't sure how to react.

George saved him the trouble, "Hermione," he said, "You do realize, don't you, that you've already got a drink?"

She looked down at her can of soda in consternation, "Oh."

"Right," said George, "Oh." He took the can from her and swished it around a bit, "And it's still half full."

"Can I have it back?"

George shrugged, "Don't see why not."

He took a generous swig and then handed it back to her. Her eyes filled with tears.

"Hermione," Ron rushed to her side, "What's the matter?"

She sniffled, "He… He took some of my drink! I can't drink it anymore. I need a new one!"

"Well alight then," said George, "Can I have that one back if you don't want it? I've never had Ginger Ale before and I think that I just might be developing a taste for it."

Harry transfigured Fred's new 'wand' into a can of Ginger Ale and presented it to Hermione who gratefully accepted it.

Ron lunged in and grabbed it from her before she had a chance to pop the tab, "Hermione! You can't drink that!" he cried, "That's a person!" He turned to Harry, "Change him back! You can't go around turning people into carbonated beverages! What if someone drank him? It would be murder!"

Harry shrugged carelessly and changed the guard-who-was-a-can-of-soda back into a deficient magic wand.

Hermione burst into tears. Full blown "Oh dear God, the place is going to flood" tears.

Ron did his best to calm her, "Shhh, it's okay. You didn't want to drink that anyway."

Tonks came over to lend a hand in the cheering department. She patted Hermione sympathetically on the back. "Don't worry. We'll find you a drink that didn't used to be a human being."

Hermione continued to snuffle for a while longer before eventually quieting down. Tonks kept up the therapeutic back pats. Ron picked up one of the remaining bottles of Butter Beer and offered it to the tearful love of his life.

"Thank you," she hiccupped softly and finally her tears stopped, "I think I need a nap," she confided, "I'm overtired. That's why I'm all weepy like his."

Ron took a careful look at her blotchy, red tearstained face. He couldn't disagree with her there. She certainly was weepy. Her eyes were swollen and red from crying and her lashes damp and spiky.

"Maybe you're right," he sighed, "You might feel better after a short rest."

Hermione offered a quavering smile, "Yes, I'd like a rest."

Now the only question was where to put her and what to do with the rest of the gang while she slept.

-

The group finally settled on the idea of tucking Hermione to sleep underneath an out of the way emergency staircase where she was unlikely to be found. When they found a likely staircase, they were surprised to find it's underside already occupied.

Sprawled under the staircase, snoring lightly, was the man who belonged to the voice which with Ron had conversed over the course of his short stay in his cell. The former employee of the Ministry.

"Should we wake him?" Tonks asked doubtfully.

"I don't know," Ron frowned, "but I definitely don't think that Hermione ought to be left here alone with him to sleep. I don't know if we can trust him," he paused significantly, "He worked for the Ministry."

Harry's expression darkened in anger, "The Ministry…"

Ron held up a hand to forestall any rash actions Harry might be tempted to take, "Yes, he worked for the Ministry, but I think that it was a long time ago. Maybe before they came under the influence of the Dark Lord. He's been here long enough to have lost most of his memories to the Dementors- even the bad ones. While I was talking to him, he couldn't even remember his own name."

"Well," said Tonks reasonably, "He's had time now and is doubtless quite well rested. I say that we wake him up and ask him his name."

"Yes, let's do that," agreed Fred and George.

Ron shrugged, "Alright, I suppose we might as well. There's not guarantee that he'll remember; he seemed not to be entirely in his right mind," on glanced around at his companions as he spoke. He hoped that they would not realize he had similar misgivings regarding their own lucidity, "But, we can give it a shot anyhow. He may surprise us."

Harry grabbed the human wand from Fred, who happened to be standing nearby, and jabbed the man in his side, "Wake up! We need to ask you something!"

The man mumbled and shifted in his sleep to try and avoid the prodding of the wand, "G'way. M'sleepin'."

Harry continued to prod.

One washed out blue eye popped open, "I'm not awake. Leave me alone."

More prodding from Harry, "Yes, you're awake," prod, "If you weren't," prod, "then you wouldn't have spoken to me," prod, prod.

"Well, I don't want to be awake! Can't you just let me go back to sleep?"

Harry paused as though he were giving consideration to the man's request. Finally, he gave one last jab with the wand, "No. It's time for you to wake up. It's not nearly night yet! And anyhow, we've got questions for you."

"Questions?"

"Yes. Questions. Let's start with your name. What is it?" Harry looked at the man expectantly. Ron was also quite interested to hear the man's response.

"My name's Kevin," the man finally responded, "I'm pretty sure it is anyway."

"Kevin?" Harry asked, "Is that it? Is that the whole thing?" He was clearly disbelieving.

"Well, no," Kevin answered cautiously, "I don't think so, but I'm having some difficulty remembering the rest of it just now, so if you'll give me some time…"

"What if we don't want to give you time?" Harry interrupted, "What if we want to know now?"

"Then I won't be able to help you," Kevin grumbled. He turned over and attempted to resume sleeping.

Harry nudged his back with his foot, "Wake up, Kevin. We're not done with you yet."

"Shut up," Kevin's voice was muffled by his blanket, which he had pulled up over his head.

"Not. Going. To. Happen," Harry punctuated each word with a light kick.

Kevin sat up and glared at him, "I don't like you."

"Did I ask you to like me?" Harry asked, "No. I didn't. All I asked was for you to answer some questions."

"And I did answer. If I knew the rest of my name, I would have told you. Do you think I like it when you kick me?"

"The thought had crossed my mind."

"Well, I don't. Alright? I'd very much like it if you wouldn't do it anymore.

Harry shrugged, "I'll think about it."

Ron chose that moment to speak, "Er, Kevin? You said earlier that you had worked for the Ministry of Magic. Do you remember exactly what it was that you did for them?"

"Yeah," Kevin spat out, "I remember. They had me working as a liaison to the centaurs. Do you have any idea how demeaning that is? Centaurs don't even talk to wizards! I wasn't doing anything at the ministry except taking up space! And then, to add insult to injury, I get sent here! I don't even know why!"

Liaison to the centaurs? Somehow Ron didn't think that was the sort of job that would attract a Death Eater. It didn't provide enough influence. And why had Kevin been sent to Azkaban?

A/N: Well. The end of another chapter- and this is my longest one yet! I hope you enjoy. You may have noticed that I stayed only in Ron's point of view for this chapter. The reason for this is that I'm trying to keep the two story lines (At Hogwarts and in Azkaban) roughly parallel and at the moment it's later in the day at Hogwarts than at Azkaban. Azkaban needs to catch up. The reason I've chosen Ron's point of view over Harry's is quite simple. At the moment, he is by far the most rational of the two just now. You may be wondering just what it is that's wrong with Harry, and I would like to assure you that an explanation will be forthcoming, but I haven't yet decided just when I'll be giving it. I do hope you'll keep reading long enough to find out.

actionmaster: I hope you enjoy this chapter. It has, as I mentioned above, absolutely nothing in it about what's going on 'outside'. I also thank you for your suggestion to change my setting to accept anonymous reviews. I hadn't realized that I wasn't allowing them. Unfortunately, changing my setting doesn't seem to have encouraged any more reviews. Oh well. There's always later.

littlelemon: I'm glad that you liked the cockroach. Azkaban somehow just seems the sort of place where one would find vermin like that. I'm sure that cockroach is not the last we'll have seen of Azkaban's bug life.

That's it for now, I hope you've enjoyed the read.

Cheers!