Where do we begin
with this unhappy ending?
Where do we begin
after all that we've done?

Abra Moore; "Family Affair"

There was light. Just past the dilapidated ceiling of this fallen fortress, there was light. It was out there, just beyond his reach. The sun had risen to kiss a warm blue sky. He could see it in his mind. Flowers openly embraced the morning and birds sang its praises while clouds, like the foam of ocean waves, drifted lazily across a gentle azure sky. He couldn't see it, but he could sense it. Outside of the cold, black prison that Harry Potter found himself in once again was a world full of life, color and warmth.

Warmth. Harry had anything but at that moment in time. He knew the blood loss was a result of his unique bodily chill, but knowledge was not going to help heal his leg, nor was it going to keep him from bleeding to death within the next few hours. He was almost certain he was nearing death. Already that which he could see faded in and out of his vision, regardless of the assistance provided to him from his glasses, which were dirty, and one lens was definitely busted beyond all possibility of repair, whether it be magical or manual. The only warmth and apparition of hope allowed to him were the snaking beams of sunlight that made their way every once in a while through the broken rafters of the makeshift ceiling. Something up there had managed to break through the rubble just enough to allow some fresh air and light into the dungeon area. Unfortunately, along with the light and air came increasing amounts of rain. Some fell directly through the hole and onto the ground as it came straight from the sky. However, along with those refreshing droplets, came jets of ice cold water that ran down those same broken rafters. All of it was guided into the dungeon areas, where Harry quickly realized that there were no drains to lead it all back out again. If this went on for much longer while he lay in his immobile state, Harry realized that he might find himself drowning before the sun set.

He looked over to his right to find the black dog, still lying immensely still. The only evidence that it was even alive was the fact that its back rose up and down with the inhaling and exhaling of air from its lungs. Other than that, the dog was out cold, and there was nothing Harry could do that would revive it. Sighing, he rolled his head back over to stare at the ceiling in hopes of catching an extra wisp of light. It was the only thing there to remind him that there was still a world beyond the dark caverns and musty corridors that he had known for the past few months. He'd been so close to rescue, and now, here he was, trapped. A prisoner of fate, which was even more inescapable than the captures prior to this.

It seemed that he would never find a real victory anymore. Harry Potter; the jinxed wizard. Son to two of the most famous witches and wizards of their time; brutally murdered in an attempt to save their son.

'What if they knew that I would be the failure I am now?' Harry thought to himself as he stared dumbly toward the sky. 'I'm not something to be proud of. I'm not anything except for a walking curse. Every life I've ever touched was either ruined or ended because of it.'

A small line of dust fell from the rafters above, and Harry found himself coughing as the irritating substance aggravated his weakening lungs and eyes. He couldn't move his arms at all anymore, therefore he was left to blink what he could out of his eyes. Eventually, he gave up. Expressionless and helpless, he lay in the growing amount of mud and water, mixed bit by bit with his own blood as time lagged on.

"I'm sorry," he sighed after a few moments of sorrowful consideration. "For everything..."

He closed his eyes and realized that perhaps letting the darkness take over was a wiser decision than waiting out a rescue.

Sirius awoke to find himself in his dog form. Why he had transformed, he wasn't sure. Perhaps it had been the sheer shock of the moment, or some internal defensive mechanism that Sirius wasn't aware that he had breached. Perhaps he had subconsciously intended to change and was only now aware of the results of his actions. Nevertheless, it really wasn't the reason why he had transformed that made him truly question his current condition, it was the reason why he couldn't change back.

Growling against the pain in his back, Sirius managed to lift his head. There was no sign of an exit anywhere, and the only openings in the ceiling were so small that nothing would be able to fit through them, save for light and rain. Peering around, he inwardly cursed his inability to determine colors in his canine state. Such surroundings were hard enough to make out as it was with all of the dust and smoke that was in the air, and now with this hindrance of sight it made finding decent footing all the more complicated.

Regardless, Sirius managed to pull himself up on all fours and stumble around for a few minutes. His eyes searched around the dungeons desperately for a sign of anything. An exit, an opening through which he could access the world outside even. He tried yelling for help, but all that came out instead was a sharp bark accented with a whimper of pain, caused by the agonizing throbs that tortured his weakened frame. He waited a few minutes, then tried again. Once more, his barks were cut short, and Sirius began to believe that he'd be trapped in there for a very long time.

He began to lie down in submission when suddenly a human cough came to his ears. Sirius' head picked up, immediately ignoring the pain that it caused him. In all of his worry and desperation to escape, he had forgotten something very important: Harry.

Cursing himself, Sirius lifted his frame and tried to follow the sounds of ragged breathing. A sneeze threw him slightly off of his feet, and after a few minutes of getting his senses back together, Sirius realized that he would have a better chance sniffing his godson out then actually looking and listening for him.

Like a bloodhound, he pressed his nose to the ground and began to search. Within a few minutes Sirius came across a section of beaten floor that was illuminated well enough for him to see what was lying on it. Amongst the tattered debris, puddles, and dirt, lay a mud covered arm. It was rigid and cold, and unresponsive when Sirius nipped at the fingertips. He whimpered and tried to pull a few collapsed rafters away from the body with his jaw. He found one jammed firmly within the left shin of the body, and another just over his chest. The shin had been pinned for some time he could tell, but the other rafters had been a recent collapse. Sirius whimpered again and slipped in past the wooden frames to try and find the rest of the body.

Nose first, Sirius was able to nuzzle an opening through the debris just large enough to slip through. There, he found a nose-full of black hair that reeked of sweat and blood. Another sneeze wracked the dog's body, causing him to yelp once more and reveal numerous broken ribs as well as a bruised back. He paused momentarily to catch his breath and balance, then continued on crawling until he reached a wide enough opening where he could stand on all fours.

Not knowing what else to do, Sirius lay his head over Harry's chest to make sure he was breathing. So far, so good, but his breathing was shallow and sounded watery. Sirius understood that Harry might not make it much longer under these harsh conditions. There wasn't much he could do, however. With his back and ribs in such a rut, Sirius realized that transforming back into his human body would only make his injuries worse, but as a dog he did not own the advantage of being able to call out to anyone who may be up on the surface to let them know that he was down here.

Unable to make a definite decision, Sirius did that which he knew he could do. Clearing the rafters away from his godson's beaten form as best he could, he started to make all attempts possible in reviving him. At first he nudged the boy's head, but that didn't work. Harry's head only flopped over to the side limply, his expression still unresponsive. Whimpering in confusion, Sirius tried nipping at his extremities again, but they were so cold that they had actually gone numb. Harry wouldn't have ever felt a thing in his arms or legs, even if Sirius had decided to rip one of them off.

Now growling and pawing the ground in anger, Sirius tried barking. Nothing happened, at least not that he could see, and so Sirius resorted to the last thing he wanted to do. Prepping himself for a very bad aftertaste, he arched his head and began licking Harry's face around his eyes and nose in hopes that it might wake him up. It took some time, but after a few minutes there was a noticeable change of countenance.

Coughing and sputtering, Harry winced away the sudden onrush of numbness and opened his dazed eyes. Sirius yipped happily, but soon quieted when Harry winced again. He was covered in mud and blood. Also, it appeared to Sirius that Harry had also suffered a head injury during or sometime after he had fallen, and was now feeling the full effects of it.

Harrumphing, the dog lay down next to Harry's side, nudging his head now and then to keep him from going back to sleep. The young man coughed once before forcing his head to turn so that he might find his temporary rescuer.

"Sirius?" asked a weak, fluidy voice. Unable to talk, the dog simply whimpered while wagging his tail. Harry didn't speak again, he merely grinned slightly while forcing one of his arms over to comfort his companion. It was really all they had for one another. The dog's whimper and the boy's tender touch.

"I think we're going to be waiting here a while."

"I told you!" screamed Yanni, over and over again. His rage was so severe that his Romanian accent was coming through in his voice, making it all the more difficult for Hagrid to understand the man's words, aside from his frequent obscenities, that is. "You can't work on the pile! You're too big! I told you, you would cause a collapse! And now look! You've made half of the damned ceiling cave in! If anyone was stuck down there, they're most likely dead or dying by now!"

Scalding hot watermelon tears dripped down Hagrid's wrinkled face. His gaze was diverted only to the ground. He didn't have the strength to look into anyone's face right now.

In his eagerness to help those who were assumed to be trapped in the lowest levels of the keep, Hagrid had snuck away from the med tents and began moving rubble. He'd done fine for an hour. Many were now actually able to see into the basement through small holes and openings in the rafters, provided to them solely through Hagrid's massive strength and willingness to help. However, after stepping on a particularly weakened support beam provided by the workers who were digging persistently overnight, his massive frame had predictably caused a collapse in the rafters, sending massive pounds of debris and beams down into the basement, fully burying at least a good half of the area below.

The intense cracking of lumber and other such elements of the keep brought on the attention of many, if not all of the workers. Few said anything at first upon seeing the massive giant lumbering clumsily and quickly out of the heap, as if he actually had a chance of slinking away unnoticed.

Yanni, however, blinded by rage and reddened in the face due to the factor of raising blood pressure, did not falter in taking upon himself the first chance to completely humiliate the giant right in front of half of the squad.

"You damn, bloody fool! Now go work where I assigned you before I throw your ass out of here!"

Hagrid, not saying a word, walked slowly back to the bay where the element-ridden tents were flailing madly in the sea breeze. No one said anything, but many hearts went out to the big man. He had only been trying to help. Certainly his inability to do anything certainly made him all the more angry with himself, but no one really blamed him. All save Yanni, who blamed any and all regardless of circumstances, unless it was himself.

After a few minutes of quiet consideration, everyone went back to work. Hagrid too. There had been a minor setback, but after all of the progress allowed to them by way of the gentle giant's eager hand, it was worth while. At least now they had a fighting chance of getting down there within the next twelve hours.

It was all they could ask for.

TBC...almost there, folks!