Disclaimer: This fanfiction is based on the Harry Potter universe created by
J.K. Rowling Not mine
The plot is based on the Severitus- challenge therefore is not mine either.
Rating: PG13
Spoilers: All five books (SS/PS; CoS; PoA; GoF; OotP)
A/N: Thank you all who took their time to review the last chapter. I really appreciated it. I'm not so sure if you will like this one as much as the last four, though. I warn you now there is Character Death ahead.
Chapter 4: Dementors unleashed
Azkaban
HebridesScotlandAtlantic Ocean
31st. July, late evening
The sky above the small rocky and bare island located about eight miles from Scotland's shoreline was an unnatural pitch black. Thick stormy clouds were hovering above the small island as usual partly hiding the dark, foreboding fortress rising above the stormy Atlantic in eternal darkness. It's the most feared prison off the wizarding world; Azkaban.
Wind ripped through every crook and cranny it could find in the sinister fortress. Dark wizards were shuddering in fright on the prospect off being sent here; at least this was the case until very recently. The real reason for this very valid fear had actually deserted the island a month ago.
However, even though the Dementors had left, the isle has not yet lost the cold feeling off despair and hopelessness pervading every rock and pebble, even the air was filled with its stench. A millennium off Dementor dominion is not easily forgotten by the land.
The effect off the Dementors was such that it sucked all the happiness out off a person leaving him or her only the worst experiences off his or her life, rendering them incapable to think off flight, making them dull and lethargic. Only one was ever able to flee this prison of body and soul; Sirius Black.
Most off its inmates went insane in a matter off weeks or month's. They, the Dementors, were natural Legillimense after all. However the prisoners have to be watched and subdued now by other means. The ministry in it's infinite wisdom has decided to send thirty off it's "most" formidable aurors to guard the five-hundred or so, mostly Dark, Wizards imprisoned here for various reasons; indecent behaviour, muggle baiting, thieves, the usual innocents and of course Voldemorts Death Eater's.
These all were now subdued by potions which for one leeched the magical ability for a limited time and secondly rendered the individual incapable to think very clearly. It had to be reapplied every day, however. An immense task, lest someone would break free from his or her cell even though all cells were charmed to let only authorized persons leave. This complex charm is monitored, maintained and modified in a single chamber deep in the bowels off Azkaban, several hundreds of meters below the deepest cell, by no less than five aurors.
Their work was the most exhaustive. The ministry was punishing its own. Any auror who does not agree with the mighty head of state foolhardiness was sent here to "clear the mind off Anti-ministry thoughts". The aurors were too independent for Fudges taste.
Fitzgerald Fandango was one of these poor souls whose loose mouth had him placed on guard duty here on this godforsaken hellhole. After six hours of maintaining the security charms he was completely exhausted, he tiredly leaned on the battlement watching over the rough sea.
He needed to escape the narrow corridors, the dank walls were not even lichen or mould would grow, the make shift dormitory's for the guards. The air was icy; even now in the summer season, at least it was rich on oxygen. It helped to clear his mind slightly, before he had to patrol the corridors.
He felt immensely grateful that they had five houselves at their beck-and-call though the normally friendly and cheery creatures were as dour as a goblin and the guard staff knew better than to expect more than three meals a day; the same grey indefinable stuff which the prisoners got too though those were laced with their potion. He almost felt pity for those poor bastards who were imprisoned here for life.
The worst part off it was that this stuff resisted any kind off Mme Delicious' charm work of How to turn a spoiled food to a feast. Not even transfiguration would work on the goo (There simply wasn't a British noun to describe it). For that to work one had to understand the nature of the substance he wanted to transfigure, sadly to say no one has yet found that one out. The only way to get it down one's throat was to use illusion charms, though they couldn't mask the taste either. At least these miserable creatures granted the guards the luxury off some kind of fruit as desert with every meal.
"Aye Fandango! What 'ye doing out 'ere!" Oh great, Sully "Sunny-boy" Slogan the worlds largest nag. Gee, what luck; he thought sarcastically, why on earth Fudge promoted this cretin to commander of this bloody castle…
Small pig eyes were watching him beadily out of a face which features could only be described as round. There was an almost smooth transition from "Sunny-boys" triple chin to his enormous chest (Dear god did he have a troll somewhere in his ancestry?). His head was as bald as an egg. The enormous belly which went along nicely with his almost sticklike legs, rounded out the picture quite nicely. It was rather amazing how silent and fast this man could move, if he put his mind to it. Now he had managed to successfully sneak up on Fandango which was a hard task in and off itself. Sunny-boy's lips were drawn into a toothy condescending smile showing ominous black gaps.
Bloody, racist pureblood... "Hey, Sunny-boy! Fancy meeting you here. How did you manage this amazing sportive achievement of climbing up here without a closed-circuit breathing aparature?" He asked conversationally smirking unnoticeably, watching Sully closely as his face turned slowly from slightly flushed to an almost angry black, highlighting his receding brow quite nicely. Sully was by no means an expert on the finer points off muggle technology, however he was still able to recognize an insult when it was thrown his way, especially if Fitzgerald Fandango was the person doing it.
They absolutely loathed each other. Fandango did not only lack a proper wizarding education in Sully's mind, the main reason Sully loathed him was that the muggleborn was more powerful than himself; which he took as a personal insult.
Stupid mudblood! Oh he will get his comeuppance soon. Very soon. Sully plastered a smile on his face which didn't reach his eyes. "Funny Fandango, very funny. Now run along to have a bite and don't pollute my air any longer." He sneered. Fandango smirked in a way he knew would incense Sully even more and with an eerie whistle he descended to the big square courtyard. Feeling restless and by the idea on glutton oneself on the Azkaban houselves idea off food, his stomach churned in protest.
Instead off joining his colleagues in what passed here as a dining room, he took to wandering the corridors. Somehow the fortress seemed more hostile today than ever since he had arrived almost four weeks ago. Damn his imagination! Shivering he pulled his cloak closer. On and on he walked through Azkabans corridors. Now and than meeting an auror on patrol duty greeting them in passing but otherwise he didn't stop for a talk.
The prisoners seemed more restless, more lucid, watching him keenly. He could feel their eyes following him, as if they were privy to some information he couldn't begin to fathom. On and on he walked through the corridors pretending to take no notice off the strange behaviour some prisoner's showed. Suddenly his mind was flooded by the image from Azkaban seized by the inmates. But no, the potions couldn't have worn off, even if they had there was still the spell to consider which kept any adventurous minds from leaving. His steps quickened though. The prisoner's seemed to get more obnoxious by the minute; finally he reached the intersection leading to his second favourite place, an underground cavern with a channel to the sea. Before Azkaban had been turned into a prison used by wizards, the fortress has been inhabited by a Viking Lord or another Fandango couldn't quite remember the name.
There was also a pier which has not been used in ages. The cavern must have been a means to supply the fortress with food and other necessities in the middle ages. One might think this would be the perfect escape route, Fandango knew better. For one you had to know exactly where the entrance was, it was only by accident he found out about it. Secondly to escape you also needed a wand for the cavern was heavily charmed. Ancient Anti Aparation wards were only one off the security measures in effect here. The cave walls were rather smooth too, yielding no handhold. Nothing could enter the fortress from the sea either. The wards around this place were strong even though they were century's old.
He was about to turn into the corridor when he heard hoarse voices and load banging as if several doors of cell's were opened, though that couldn't be, no one was scheduled for a interrogation were they? His curiosity being pricked he turned to investigate the corridor to his left. Just as he edged around the last corner he stopped in his tracks.
What he saw made his blood run cold in his veins. An auror, only recognizable on his badge was lying in the middle off the corridor covered in blood eyes broken. They would never see anything again. Two prisoners who had been recently locked in for Death Eater activity were standing in the hall bold as brass conversing in low tones, while behind them reined pandemonium.
A small man cackling ran from cell to cell opening them and herding the prisoners out. Suddenly the blond haired looked up, Malfoy as he now recognized him. Steely grey eyes met equally hard blue ones. Acknowledging each other for a second they both drew there wands at exactly the same time. Malfoy was slightly faster. "Avada Kedavra". The curse missed Fandango narrowly.
Training kicking in finally, he rolled away while shouting Impedimenta maxima, slowing the advance off his foes. He retreated in the corridor he came from and started running. Damn those Apparition wards all over Azkaban. He was nearly back at the intersection from where he had heard the Death Eaters voices, damn his curiosity. His auror badge begun to heat up in warning, a sure sign for "Abandon, everybody on his own!". Without the need to inform his compatriots off this predicament he knew what to do. The cavern.
Three irate Death Eaters seemed to follow him and his darn luck had it that it where the more powerful variety off them, Malfoy, Bellatrix Lestrange (where did she come from? He was sure that she had not been recaptured) and Mac Nair. Unforgivables where barely missing him.
Ah, thank god there ahead is the tunnel leading to the outside world. But what was this, waves off an unnatural chill air were washing over him. Dementors! He shouted an "Expecto Patrunum" in the general direction. A silvery cloud broke forth off his wand taking almost instantly the shape off an big winged horse with an draconian head, bat's wings, which would be an all black if it had been a living, breathing animal instead off this spectres pearly white form, charging off in the general direction off the Dementors, keeping them from cutting his route of flight off.
He still had to worry about those Death eaters running behind him, though; shooting curse after curse at him, and missing to his great luck all the same if barely. He was about to turn into the corridor, tunnel more like it, looking like it had been hewn out off the bedrock itself. At that moment one off the death Eaters had aimed true. A cutting curse hitting him on his right leg; letting him stumble.
Lestrange cackled in glee, being the one whose aim had finally hit its mark. Ignoring the considerable pain he now was in he sprinted in an halve hobble along the tunnel, not stopping when he finally reached the quay in the cavern, instead gathering more speed and as he jumped from it's edge into the deceptively calm reservoir he quickly cast an bubble-head-charm before an excruciating pain ripped him around in mid air, half unconscious he dived into the water. Luckily for him, that the victim had to be seen, for this curse to work, as soon as he dived under the black glittering water surface the curse was broken.
He remained under water until he left the cavern for the outside world, thanks to the bubble head charm he wouldn't need to surface for oxygen anytime soon and he still had his wand. Wondering briefly what had happened to his fellow guards, though not having any hard facts he suppressed his wield imagination rather quickly. The altercation with the Death Eaters and him floating in the Atlantic before Azkabans coast had taken less then five minutes.
The sea was rough, though two meters below its surface it was not as noticeable all though his wet cloths wanted to drag him down to the ocean floor. His strength was slowly leaving him. The water was so cold. Whipping out his wand or at least trying to, his motions under water needed simply more strength, and out off shear desperation he apparated away with a strangely skewed sounding pop. Relive flooded Fandango when he felt hard marble below his feet, dissolving the bubble head charm he passed out though one disturbing thought followed him into blissful oblivion; Azkaban was lost.
Slytherin Castle
Death Eater Meeting
8:00pm
"My faithful, today will be a day to be remembered for all eternity. Today the great Dumbledore will fall." An insane cackle escaped the monster who called himself Lord Voldemort. He was on a roll now. This time he wouldn't confide in any off his so called faithful servants. No, no, they would only be told at the last possible moment. When they had to act like the good little weapons they were, as they were lovingly thought off by their master.
He watched his small circle off faithful squirm anxiously, the ones at least who had either escaped capture at the Ministry debacle or had not been involved to begin with. Combined with his allies' they would be enough, he smirked maliciously, sending shivers off fear down his servants back. For two hours straight he had ranted at them. Faithful indeed, remembering the cowardice most of them showed after his prolonged break, they would learn soon. Soon he would close his fist around his enemies bringing the wizarding society to heel.
Soon Nagini, you will feast on a most formidable opponent. Very soon. He hissed in parseltongue sending shudders of fear and revulsion down his servants backs. Oh they wouldn't know what hit them. Every piece was in place now or would be very soon with no one the wiser. The Potter boy seemed to be able all off a sudden to withstand his mental probing, a pity. Knowing that his own shields would only let something slip on very rare occasions, now. It wouldn't matter soon anyway.
"Wormtail, you and Bella will go on a little mission for me at Azkaban. I will give you fifty Dementors to claim the castle. Give those unfortunate imprisoned the opportunity between freedom under my service and the kiss. If you come across a mudblood…"letting out a bark off insane laughter Voldemort continued, "Viper will take care off those bothersome aurors and open the gates for you. He bears my mark. Check for it."
With an "I live to serve!" both obeyed their master, apparating away.
"Goyle, Broomwood, McConnet, Greasebeard, Coreless, Canterbury and Monkshed you will help my lady here will help my Lady here with a little visit to Diagon. " Voldemort indicated a regal looking woman standing beside his throne her face too was masked though hers was a silvery mask instead off the common all black attire. A strand off long white-blond hair had escaped her cowl, shimmering in the bright throne room of Slytherin castle. Though the light in the circular room were Voldemorts faithful abased themselves in the presence off their master was oddly muted. As if some kind off darkness simply couldn't be dispelled by charms work. Idly Snape wondered why anyone had even bothered to build in windows; like Azkaban Slytherin castle, fondly named Snakes lair by his builder, too was surrounded by eternal darkness which made the need for artificial lighting absolutely necessary.
Once you entered Snakes lair all sensation off time left and one was left with the unsettling feeling of an unknown dread blanketing you, suffocating you. Only the current master of the castle was immune to it; revelling in his servants and victims fear. He was lounging in a throne like chair, armrests and legs equally, were made of magic crafted lifelike snake's intertwining, their silver heads ending above their master's head, facing outwards their mouth intimidating agape in the room, ruby eyes burning giving the impression off watching anyone in front of the throne closely. In front off this monstrosity at his masters feet, curled up, lay Nagini observing her masters servants hungrily. After all any one off these might wind up anytime for desert.
To the right and half a step behind the throne stood the mystery woman Snape strongly suspected was Narcissa Malfoy in attendance while to his left had been Wormtails place a few seconds before. "My lovely, you will take the rest off my Dementors and wreak havoc in Diagon Alley. Go now."
With an, "I live to serve." Snape's one time friends vanished leaving him alone with the monster, he remained kneeling.
"Ah, Severus, my dear friend, I need some potions which need to be brewed freshly. I'm quite aware that you would prefer a more familiar laboratory environment, though unfortunately I do need them rather urgently." Smirking at this, Voldemort beckoned the potion master closer, "My lord …" "Still now. You will soon know what's going on soon enough. Do not question me" Came the harsh reply, whipping out his wand Voldemort added a "Crucio" for good measure.
After all it was counterproductive to allow his minions to ask questions. His will was law, he thought detachedly as he watched his victim writhe in pain. Holding the curse for just a few seconds this time his potion master would get off lightly. He still wasn't one hundred percent convinced where Severus Snape's loyalties lay. Better to keep him under his watchful eye. Touching his servant on the arm they vanished, reappearing in the potion laboratory.
"I need you to make the factus-servus-potion for me. I finally was fortunate to finalize the mixture. It's almost a pity this beauty will not work on Potter for he is a parselmouth too. There are other ways to bring the brat to heel." Snapes mind went blank before his mind ran on overdrive, while keeping an impassive face for his master. Oh shit, Oh shit what does his supposed master want with this potion. There had been talk about such a potion but until now he always thought it was a myth. The victim would still have a free will unfortunately it wouldn't do him any good, for the body would absolutely belong to Voldemort. There would be no possibility to fight whatever a parselmouth ordered. Though their lay the crux any parselmouth could give the order. Lucky for Lord Voldemort that there is only one other in existance beside him.
The current minister off magic probably wouldn't be a target for he was not considered worth the effort. He will surely be removed soon. Shit he is watching me to closely. He still does not trust me fully. Damn I can't sabotage it. Well let's see….What does it say here…Grounded Basilisk fangs…chopped heads off a runespoor …jobberknoll feathers…griffin feathers…(so that the victim may always speak the truth to the master)…three drops off basilisk poison …stir three times counter-clock wise, let it simmer, when concoction turns yellow …DUCK!...when turning blue proceed with adding scorched ants eyes and chopped mandrake.
Snape was sweating profusely when he added the last ingredients, shredded moonflower picked on the full moon in an ensorcelled wood and three hairs off a transformed not potion induced werewolf, (which poor sod had to gather that particular ingredient?), to his great relieve the concoction did not explode into his face, when he finished under Voldemorts watchful gaze.
Why didn't Voldemort brew this potion himself for surely he was proficient enough to brew this one even though it was difficult as hell and he said he had developed it as well?
"You're wondering why I didn't brew it myself, aren't you. A parselmouths magic unfortunately interferes with this potion rendering it useless, besides you are the best potion master of Europe."
Oh sure, that still does not explain why he was watching me so closely. He still is not sure off my loyalties. I think I should brew a certain other potion very soon.
"My Lord, I live to serve."
"Really! Bottoms up than my dear professor." taking hold of a ladle he offered it the potion master. Who was by now trying hard to keep his poker face and with a quirk off his lips gulped it down. Expecting some unpleasant result Snape was surprised when nothing appeared to happen.
"The potion has another property. It does not work on those already bonded to a parselmouth." He finished. Suppressing a sigh off relieve Snape bowed to his master. "I will take this batch with me make sure to make another one. Unfortunately it also can only be brewed on the night off the new moon." Voldemort ordered while leaving an out off sorts' potion master behind, beginning with a new batch as his hands shook slightly, fearing what his master intended to do with this potion.
An idea began to form in his mind of how to keep his son and his little friends at least partly safe and Voldemort had presented him the solution on a silver platter. His son was safe enough from this potion anyway; everyone else in the order was not. Especially the friends off the late Harry Potter were vulnerable. While adding the ingredients his mind kept plotting.
Diagon Alley,
9:30pm
In a private room in the Leaky Cauldron two wizards were discussing a probable goblin involvement in the second war and what it would entail. While the goblins seemed very reluctant to throw in their lot with the Ministry off magic and wizarding kind in general, Albus Dumbledore or Lord Voldemort was another matter.
Bill Weasley and Albus Dumbledore were sitting in comfy armchairs in front off the currently cold fireplace. Both nourishing a glass off red wine. "…I don't think that the goblins would ever join You-know-who, Albus." Bill pressed out nervously, sweating. It was quite hot in the room wasn't it? Dumbledore was beginning to feel uncomfortably hot too.
Trying to alleviate his discomfort he fiddled with the collar off his robes, to no avail. Why did everything start to look so fuzzy, blurring on the edges? His respiration started to become erratic. Bill leaned closer seemingly concerned. What was that glint off anticipation doing in his eyes? Why did his face start to meld as if under…polyjuice! Dumbledore's consciousness was fading fast. With a last effort he tried to reach his wand before everything went black.
Pitiless eyes were watching the headmasters struggle, as he slowly slumped over, falling on the carpet, which did nothing to dampen the fall. The man who posed as Bill Weasley looked dispassionately over the man he once had held in the highest esteem ever. Oh how the mighty have fallen. But something was not right. Frowning he edged closer, noticing for the first time that the man was laying to still his chest not rising anymore.
Rivulets of ice ran down his back. He wasn't supposed to kill Dumbledore with the leeching potion just incapacitate him. Oh shit, who would have thought that by adding two drops more than prescribed would kill the most powerful wizard in the world; after the Dark Lord off course. The dark lord wanted him alive. This really didn't bode well. Lord Voldemort would be furious.
Thrice be damned his stupidity. In a fit off anger and fear he kicked the body lying unresisting on the carpet hoping for any kind off reaction. The broken eyes staring almost accusingly at him; having lost their infernal twinkling for good. The venerable, wise old wizard had already started his new adventure.
After what seemed like hours but couldn't possibly be more than a few minutes, polyjuice wouldn't allow for that, the impostor seemed to ripple at the edges turning back into his proper self. Just as he was about to leave the premises he heard screams coming from Diagon Alley.
Chancing a glance out off the window, he froze. Realizing suddenly really what kind off attitude and action the mark on his left arm demanded. It was not all power. To late…to late…to late…no turning back a small voice in his back seemed to sing. After destroying all evidence he turned the bottle off wine into a port key, with a last regretful glance towards his mentor he was whisked a way by the portkey.
Serafine Gamble was feeling rather irritated or probably one could say she was furious with her current boyfriend, after today probably EX. For two hour's straight he was standing (doesn't he get tired at all?) in the middle off Diagon Alley surrounded by a crowd off likeminded fo…hem…citizens, spouting blown out off proportion tales about Harry Potter. Of how the boy had gone Dark,…the prophet was right all along. The ministry should do something before the boy-who-lived joins You-Know-Who. Idiots all off them! Honestly did they really think the boy would go Dark, for heavens sake? Ok, even if he did use the cruciatus on Lestrange, though what?
Aurors are now allowed to do it anyway with barely any restrictions though it was all hush hush. Knowing some people from the aurors corps because off her auror brother she knew for a fact that she wouldn't trust some off them as far as she could throw them (without magic).
It's not the boys' fault that he had to assume an aurors duty. No one did believe him two month ago, everyone thought of him as a liar, they all had. Where were those shining examples of Ministry officials? Where had Fudge been, cowering in his office no doubt there, when those Death Eaters raided the Department of Mysteries. They left a fifteen year old boy out to dry, fending for himself, for telling the wizarding world about the return off the greatest danger facing them since Grindelwald.
"…We have to catch the boy before he has a chance to join Voldemort or even worse becomes the next Dark Lord!..." A shudder ran through the sizable crowd which now attended Gilmore Bintheads speech. Both admiring and frightened off the fact that he would actually dare to say the You-know-Who's self-styled name. Serafine snorted derisively, as she noticed that couldn't repress a slight shudder and tremor in his voice either at his own daring, shaking her head, that does it! How could those people be though bloody oblivious to the idiocy Gilmore was spouting? How did she end up as the girlfriend off that idiot?
"… We must be united against the likes off Potter!" Oh please what's the fool talking off now? Has he completely lost his marbles? Had they all forgotten about the real danger running loose? Sweeping the sea off people from her vantage point in the background on the make shift pedestal Gilmore's friends had erected; she laid eyes on the one and only Rita Skeeter who was once the star reporter for the piece off rubbish also known as the Daily Prophet but working for the rather …open-minded Quibbler now. She was writing furiously away in her note book.
Just behind her she noticed two familiar redheads; the Weasley twins. Being one year their senior she remembered quite well what hazard they were when planning out their pranks. They now where the owners off a flourishing prank shop called Weasleys Wizard Wheezes.
A devilish grin spread around her lips as she realized who they were going to prank. Coming to a decision Serafine was just about to climb down the pedestal to have a closer look at what they were planning to do and also to move out off the line off fire so to speak; she had seen enough off their handy-work in Gryffindor tower to know that this would be rather unpleasant, when an unnatural cold swept over her, making her shiver involuntary.
The remaining light off the sun too seemed to have dimmed. Glancing uneasily around, she couldn't find the source immediately. Suddenly screams could be heard from people standing in the last rows, it became quickly clear why. They were all surrounded by a loose circle of Dementors. It only was loose though because the crowd Gilmore had attracted was rather large.
The hundred plus Dementors stood in a loose half moon circle, there hoods pulled back. Serafine was shuddering at this image, knowing full well what this means after hearing about them in her sixth year from Professor Lupin. The only decent Defence teacher they ever had in her opinion.
He had been quite surprised that his sixth year classes didn't know about the Patronus charm at all, well they had that fraud Lockheart in their fifth year, which is actually self-explanatory why OWL material had not been covered at all. Thanks to Hogwarts playing host to a horde of Dementors in her sixth year her and some friends studied that charm outside class, feeling threatened by their presence what ever the reason why they were stationed there.
Only a seconds had past before her shocked mind got back to the problem at hand namely Dementors in the back yard off the Leaky Cauldron. Panicking the crowd had already made its move towards the Leaky Cauldron, nearly overturning the pedestal she was standing on, when she shouted "EXPECTO PATRONUM" at the same time as the Weasley twins. Eagle, lion and hawk rushed forward attacking the Dementors. The lion and the hawk had a decisively harder time being fired out off a panicking mob and vanished again soon. A few others too caught on; producing patroni or at least were trying too, though they too didn't stand a chance either, to fight against the masses. Anyhow it seemed much harder than usual to hold her Patronus and it seemed not very effective either. The Dementors still closed in though slightly slower.
Gilmore the brave was one off the first who had turned tail and run. The pedestal, a rectangular wooden construction, was remarkable sturdy for being only make-shift. As the people were milling around it, it gave only a slight tremble. Suddenly curses too began flying left and right as masked figures with white masks begun to appear. The Unforgivables were flying freely.
Imperious curse, turned the fleeing masses against each other, the killing curse, deadly flashes off green light ending the lives of people who were running screaming, trying to run for safety which sometimes only was a step or two away. Too far. The cruciatus curse too was used at liberty, adding another pitch to the cacophony off mindless screams; indescribable pain.
Serafine had to give up her vantage point in a desperate jump, twisting her ankle in the process, as a poor fool obviously under imperious was sending the killing curse her way. This time the pedestal crumbled in a heap sending sharp splinters in the crowd as it was hit with the curse instead. Funny how the brain works in times of stress, it seemed as if everything had slowed down, she watched dazedly as the dark sky turned upside down before she crashed unceremoniously to the ground; laying still for a second dazedly before scrambling to her feet again.
Even though there couldn't possibly have passed more than a few minutes Diagon Alley had turned into a battlefield no, more like a slaughterhouse and still no aurors were in sight. When she looked up and to her left she let out a high pitched scream. A Dementor was bending over a black skinned wizard about to give him the kiss. She tried to fire a quick Patronus though this time it simply wouldn't manifest to more than a cloud off silvery smoke. The wizard jerked once more in the grasp off the foul creature before turning limp.
Serafine couldn't move she was simply sitting there on the ground while people kept running mindlessly around, she was still in danger anytime she could be hit by a nasty curse or a Dementor might decide she would be an ideal snack. She tried to apparate but painfully slammed into what felt like a solid brick wall.
Anti Apparation charms were in place. Suddenly she was yanked up, screaming she flailed her arms around in an attempt to dissuade her attacker, before she noticed the familiar red hair off one off the Weasley twins shoving her with the same motion towards the Leaky Cauldron. Weasley was right by her side holding her right arm thus leaving her wand arm free. Just as they had reached her destination green light filled her vision, a rushing sound and she new no more.
Fred Weasley gasped in shock as he felt Serafine Gamble crumble right beside him. God damn it she had been almost safe! White hot rage flooded his veins clouding his vision, as he saw the black robed figure cackle in glee training his wand at him to finish his work. He heard someone screaming not realizing that it was he himself. With a motion that was too fast for the eye he trained his wand on the Death Eater and uttered two unforgivable words.
The death Eater didn't cackle anymore he two now lay still, motionless like Serafine, victim and murderer. With his last strength Fred pushed through the doorway separating the Leaky Cauldron from the rest of Diagon Alley to an almost safety. Everything went blurry all off a sudden. Feeling thoroughly sick now his stomach heaving, everything he had eaten that day came back up until only bitter gall was left to spit out. Nauseous and shaky he looked back his head spinning.
He had killed a man, a Death Eater but a human nonetheless and …holy shit he used an unforgivable…he would have stood there in the alley way between the leaky Cauldron and the magical barrier for quite some time when his brother George had not doubled back. He still could here the screams off the poor souls left on the other side off the magical barrier; feebly he made a step back, when he felt the desperate tugging on his sleeve. Looking up he saw the concerned look in George's eye. "Come on we have to go back to Grimmauld Place. Dumbledore has to know." In a daze Fred followed his brother to where Tonks was waiting with an unconscious Moody, who was bandaged around the head which was nearly bled through from a gash at his temple; probably one reason why she hadn't used an enervate yet.
It wasn't that good an idea to use an enervate on someone who had might have a concussion, especially if said someone was a paranoid ex-auror who when awakening dizzy might start hexing people first and ask questions later. It was much easier to transport him too. First they had to get out off here.
The common room off the Leaky Cauldron had already been deserted. People still came trickling in hurrying for the floo or Muggle London. Chairs and table were overthrown, some broken, evidence off the uncontrolled mass "evacuation" off Diagon Alley.
As Fred and George reached the pair Tonks pulled an antique looking pocket-watch out off her robes, her face set in a bitter mask eyes brimming with tears. Taking hold, making sure that Moody touched it too, Tonks mumbled "Phoenix ash" and they were gone.
Landing in a park about two minute walk by foot away from Grimmauld Place, their Fidelius charm protected save heaven. Never in their wildest dreams would the thought of having to use another portkey not even ten minutes later have crossed their minds.
They didn't notice either that Grimmauld Place was visible now like any other house in the street.
Safe-house
Isle of Skye; Black Cuillins
10:00 pm
Spinning, it seemed to take for forever though no time had passed as Eric and company reappeared in what appeared to be a ramshackle hut in a heap of entangled arms and legs. An unsavoury smell off mould and dust permeated the air. The hut also was completely devoid off any furniture.
Slowly sorting each other out they moved to stand up, his trunk turned into his necklace and fastened itself around his neck again. Moody let a small moan escape as people bumped into him and his support vanished. Kara wasn't better off though with an indignant squawk she flattered up and settling down not to gently on Eric's shoulder ruffling her feathers annoyed.
As Eric looked around he became aware of two things; one, there was no source off light obvious, so where did the light come from; and two the room was even though quite dirty in good repair. Curtains off cobwebs where hanging down the rafters, yuck he didn't want to meet those spiders, and dust was covering the glass window's and the floor in thick layers.
His friends and the order members were locked in a heated discussion involving him. His headache had evolved from a mere nuisance to almost a fully fledged migraine. Ignoring it as best he could he begun to explore the big empty room. With each step he sent small cloud's of dust to the air. With out considering his action he concentrated on the dust in disgust muttering an absent minded "evanesco pulvis" under his breath; the dust vanished leaving grey polished basalt bordering on the black below.
Eric fainted exhausted and the light in the room went out. Guess it wasn't such a good idea to try to adapt a spell to vanish smaller messes like a botched potion to clean up the thick layers off dust contaminating a surface half again the seize off Hagrids hut.
Suddenly it felt like the world was shifting again rushing downwards like an elevator which tows had been cut. Taken by surprise the rest off the group couldn't help but taking hold off each other while Eric and Moody remained in blissful oblivion. It was over nearly as soon as it begun.
The trip ended in a large circular cave which walls were made up off black basalt, the black cuillins on the isle off Skye though Eric didn't know that specific fact, yet. Groaning Eric sat up wondering how he got himself in the current predicament. His head felt like stuffed with wool, though it took some time to acknowledge his environment. For some strange reason, possibly magic this room too was filled with a soft golden glow, enough for him to see every detail of the cave they had landed in for some reason.
A full-blown argument raged between the Diagon Alley and the Grimmauld faction now, as he had decided to label both parties, intruding unpleasantly on his observations. His friends were only silently observing, shaking their heads at the immature behaviour off the supposed adults. He was about to make his return to consciousness known with a scathing remark, adults or no, when his eyes fell on some inscription on the floor.
His anger at James Potter rose to new unrealized heights. Never in his wildest dreams could he have imagined that he would learn to despise the late Gryffindor with such a passion.
For you who wants to be the master here,
Be careful in your venture.
Before you may enter halls of stone you will be judged,
By eternal portal build off stone.
Only the one who's found worthy may proceed from here.
Come on and let your self be judged by a drop of your blood.
Though those beware off the Potter name, never shall you be found worthy here.
Oh great, just what I need. My blood is wanted again. Frantically Eric looked around; nope this portal is the only way leading anywhere. McGonagall and the rest were still arguing. Carefully he stepped closer to the portal, examining it. It was huge; twenty feet wide and about forty feet in height.
It seemed to fit in seamlessly into the wall, no hinges or protruding edges were noticeable. Three very fine lines running upwards ending in a semicircular shaped line above those three were marking the portal. Undecided he now right in front off it.
Glancing over his shoulder seeing that no one took any notice off him, though Kara watched him quite closely from Luna's shoulder where she had fled when Eric had fallen unconscious suddenly. With his hand he traced the lines which were edged into the stone. He was rather leery to relinquish even one drop off blood again.
Maybe someone else could try this time? Suddenly he felt a rather sharp pain like the prick of a needle on his finger where he had traced a sharp edge absentmindedly. With a sigh he watched as a drop of his blood touched the portal; cursing James Potter in his head once more for bringing him into this predicament.
Seconds passed in bated breath. Suddenly a bright light begun to emit from the portals edges plunging the grotto into an unbearable brightness, making it necessary to shadow his eyes in pain. It also served quite nicely to shut his companions up or at least turn their attention to the present.
"Potter, what have you done now!" McGonagall exclaimed peeved. He really wished that his old head of house would stop calling by his old name. "Nothing Professor. I'm just trying to get us the hell out off here. Besides have you forgotten? I do not have a claim to that name anymore." Eric replied quietly, his voice bare any emotion.
Embarrassed McGonagall refrained from ripping further into the youth. Everyone else seemed to be torn between absolute bafflement and pity. "What's McGonagall on about?" "Care to elaborate someone?" "Isn't Harry the last Potter left?" Ignoring the jumbled questions and snatches off thoughts he concentrated fully on the portal. His eyes were practically glued to it now.
Other lines were now creeping over its surface depicting vines off leafs and flowers almost lifelike, slightly swaying in a non existing breeze. The artist responsible for this must have been very skilled even if it was done by magic. Slowly both halves of the portal were sliding aside, granting a view to what lay beyond. Enter, worthy one, it seemed to whisper from the stones though it was possibly his imagination.
As he took a step forward crossing the threshold he felt an invisible, yet comforting weight settle on his shoulder. Wards he realized as he was now acutely aware what was going on in the area behind the portals. It was a refuge, as James had stated but probably never realized it was true, because he as a Potter would never be found worthy. No one would be able to enter this perimeter without his consent.
Even Voldemort would have major trouble to breach the wards placed on his…mountain home. Now where did that name come from? It didn't matter, a very fitting name anyway. From what he sensed through the wards it stretched for miles below the mountain range off the Isle off Skye. He could feel the power lying dormant in the wards; they were probably surpassing even those on Hogwarts.
Taking another step he fully entered staring in awe, mouth agape. He had entered a … park (underground; how can anything grow here?). Comprehension dawned on him when he perceived what should have been a ceiling made off black basalt when he looked up and instead saw the starry night sky. It must be something like the enchantments in Hogwarts Great Hall he thought.
It was huge too, probably five times the size of the Great Hall. A winding path led to a small oaken door at least when compared to the huge portal he had just passed. Even Hagrid wouldn't have to duck. Impatiently he turned around to his companions. "Are you coming or are you trying to get out another way? I'm afraid but there is but one way out leading through this beautiful garden. Is Moody awake by now?" Eric's voice turned from impatient to concerned. "Don't you mind li'l ol' me, lad. I'm fine. Just a knock to the head. 'he skull of mine is stronger than that." "Yeah mostly bone instead off brain." Quipped a disgruntled Tonks, trying to alleviate the tension pervading the air and failing miserably. "Lead on than, but I warn you one wrong move…"
"Tonks! If you dare we will hex you into the next century and screw the consequences." Ron cut in angrily, his wand drawn, though he wasn't the only one who had his wand out and trained on the young auror, Ginny, Hermione, Luna and Neville too had their wands drawn. Even Lupin had drawn his wand his eyes glaring dangerously.
Although before Eric could say anything to dispel the tension Molly Weasley spoke up, "I would be careful Tonks with your allegation or I just might throw in a hex as well, auror or no. You don't know the whole facts though please stop accusing the boy." Eric briefly wondered what had transpired in their argument while his senses where occupied elsewhere.
Shrugging slightly he turned his back on the group and started down the path, Luna next to him still having Kara on her shoulder an unconcerned expression on her face. Hermione, Ron, Ginny and Neville filed behind him, shortly followed by Mrs Weasley and Remus Lupin. With a stern look ("Don't you dare to pose any trouble or else…) McGonagall watched as Fred, George, Tonks and a slightly dizzy Moody, magical eye swirling madly in it's socket, as they trudged by before she went last like as shepherd shooing sheep before her, wondering what else could happen tonight. A bare quarter hour had passed since they had taken that portkey.
As she slowly followed the portal swung silently shut. Only a small thud could be heard nonetheless making McGonagall spiral around. I dearly hope the boy knows where this is getting. The air was surprisingly fresh for being underground. One could feel a slight breeze moving the air bringing the rich smell off wildflowers, ferns and other plants. It took them a five minutes walk to reach the end of the park in which Moody still slightly dazed was taking advantage of Fred and Georg's broad shoulders for his legs still wouldn't work properly.
Eric was standing before the oak door undecided. "Oh come on Eric, you are a Gryffindor deep down there even if your father is the head of Slytherin house it's only a door for Merlin's sake." Ron exclaimed exasperatedly. Throwing Ron a dirty look Eric opened it with bated breath even though he knew nothing hostile was hiding behind it; that much he could pry from the wards. However the wards made him aware of an alien presence awaiting them. Sighing he pushed the door fully open and entered the room.
The room was bright as day hurting his eyes slightly. Multiple gasps escaped the group as they too entered. Getting Old Doesn't it? Behind the door was an entry hall to rival Hogwarts own for shear size. Twin stairs where spiralling upwards in each corner leading to the upper floors of this …manor house? Castle? It also was blindingly white. In each wall were soothing carved relief's of flowers and vines or of various magical creatures. In the middle, on a thick round carpet depicting a duel between a wizard and a witch stood the alien presence serenely.
She, for certainly the presence looked distinctly female, was very tall had long blond hair flowing down her back, her skin was slightly cream-colored, wearing a glittering golden robe, making them feel distinctly underdressed. Her face was longish with high cheekbones and slightly slanted sapphire blue eyes. But her eyes seemed dead which made her smile definitely haunting. Whatever she looked like she wasn't human.
Eric wasn't even sure if she was alive. Before anyone could say anything she bowed deeply and began to speak in an eerily musical voice. "Welcome worthy one, it's been ages since these humble halls have been filled with voices. I'm Elemira the housekeeper if it pleases my lord. Your wish is my pleasure." Snickers could be heard from Eric's friends, sending them a dirty look he turned back to Elemira. "Ah …well…we are dearly in need of some bedchambers and …some refreshments wouldn't be amiss. A friend off mine needs some medical attention." "Off course my lord. If you and your companions would please follow me?" She beckoned them to follow her. "This could be trap by You-know-who." Mumbled George "I do not trust this woman, neither do I trust my lord there." here his voice grew mocking. "I second that, "Answered Fred though they immediately wished they hadn't.
Eric who had heard them was just about to tell them where exactly they could stuff their opinion when Remus had them both already in a headlock. Man that can't be comfortable, Eric winced. He couldn't hear what Remus was telling the twins but it must have been quiet unpleasant if the green tinge in their faces was anything to go by, once a marauder always a marauder.
Elemira led them up the left hand staircase her movements were flowing as if she didn't depend on knees which bend. As soon as they set foot on the staircase, it started to move, making them jump. Upstairs they entered a long corridor its walls too where made off marble. The reliefs were telling a story of the making of this strange place. Doors on each side off the wall were leading to bedrooms. "
Eric as much as any of us would like to rest here, we have to warn the others." McGonagall began.
"What others are you talking about, there is no one else left who needs to be warned. Father works at the ministry he surely knows that there was an attack on Grimmauld Place and won't go to close either. The place must be swarming with aurors too. Once he gets home he will know that we are safe."
"Well I don't think that they will be exactly swarming that place combined with the attack on Diagon Alley their resources might be spread rather thin."
"Emmeline Vance, Mundungus Fletcher, Dadelus Diggle, Kingsley Shaklebolt must know…"
"As we have already told you most of the order is dead. Many off the order decided to listen in on that moron Gilmore Bintheads speech and payed for it. It was feared that those people would turn into a violent mob. The Ministry had four aurors on duty to watch them not nearly enough to prevent a marauding mob. The mob turned out to be a flock of sheep once the Death Eaters struck."
"Where those aurors order members?" Eric asked, earning himself a sharp look from George. "If you must know there were two order members on Fudges orders Kingsley Schacklebolt and Tonks. Additionally two ministry plants where stationed there Glenny Gudgeon and lets not forget Cristella Cardigan. They didn't stand a chance. How those two ever finished auror training is anyone's guess."
"Anyway," Tonks cut in, "The Fidelius was blown the house is now visible to everyone, or what You-know-who has left at least. The order member's still alive should know by now. Like we already would have known if any off us had stopped to think." Taking a nondescript all black stone out off her pocket, the order member shuddered. Guilty looks flashed between Mrs Weasley, Remus and Professor McGonagall. While McGonagall broke down in tears. "Mr Lupin if you had a means to determine the danger. Why didn't you use it?" Hermione asked hesitantly "These stones only turn black when Dumbledore is dead warning us to be extra alert until Aberforth Dumbledore contacts us. Contrary to popular belief he is literate. It won't matter where we are either. The messages will find us. Who would have thought that such a powerful wizard would die so suddenly? "
Eric's mind reeled how many had died that night. "Elemira is there a safe way to contact people outside?"
"Well there is the hall off souls, the master off these halls can reach anyone on the planet from here."
"Only the master?" "Well anyone who can talk mind to mind with another individual actually but this gift is rather rare. You must know the person you want to contact."
"What about an ordinary firecall, is there a fireplace I can use?"
"My apologies master but the mountain home is not connected to the outside world via floo network. It was deemed to dangerous. It's too easy for an enemy to invade by these means."
"How are we able to get back to the surface than? Are apparition wards in place too?"
"Yes, but to return to the outside world you can use the portals. But maybe we should postpone there use until tomorrow." Agreeing the subdued group let themselves be shown their rooms for the night.
They were shown to large suites consisting of an antechamber up to three separate bedrooms and a bathroom. Making one wonder for what purpose these halls were built. It looked like a refuge. Eric decided to interrogate Elemira in the morning.
He tiredly stretched in this very comfortable four-poster bed barely remembering to clear his mind before he was out like a light his head acquainting him with a very comfortable pillow. It was the first night without nightmares off any kind in a very long time.
Ministry of magic, "Oval Office"
11:00 pm; Damage Control
Fudge was sitting in his chair behind the massive desk, staring blankly into space, taking no notice off the people in his office. It was almost as if a Dementor had stopped and sucked out his soul. Thoughts were running wild in his head. Brown and Dawlish stood ready for action on each side off the door; they had been removed from doing unnecessary guard duty in front off Potter's home.
Funny how all thoughts revolved around that Potter boy even now after Azkaban had been taken, Diagon Alley been attacked and the old black estate in the city has been blown to pieces. It has been a nightmare his resources spread to thin. From the two hundred aurors he still had this morning; thirty had lost their lives in presumably the worst possible way he knew how, namely the Dementors kiss.
Only one auror had been able to flee from Azkaban. He was convalescing in Saint Mungos. This didn't even begin to include the civilians who had died tonight in Diagon Alley because not enough aurors had been deployed early enough. The crowd had turned into a mindless panicking mob trampling anyone who got between them and the exit via The Leaky Cauldron. Even if he had sent more than the four to observe the development off the people's mood it would have changed the outcome only marginally.
Oh if he would have send a fifty or even one hundred aurors they might have been able to drive the Dementors and Death Eaters away, more likely they would have been overrun by the mob too; but still who would have guessed that after such a long break You –Know-Who would choose Potter's birthday for the attack. Besides deploying such a large contingent off aurors would probably have been disfavourably discussed as police terror in the Quibbler too, the newspaper was nowadays as popular as the Daily Prophet, if those terrible events didn't happen.
Though how these events would be rehashed now he shuddered to think about. Everything was Potter's fault anyway; he had one hundred of the auror corps actively looking for him. They will get him soon. That fool Binthead had been actually playing in his hands.
Now the people were out for Potters blood. If he managed it right the whole disaster would be laid at Potters feet and don't you mind that he is only sixteen. Wit the backup off the people he will get his hands on Potter in no time. After he had Potter he would smash You-know-Who. He must show an iron fist now. His eyes turned decisively gleeful at the pure imagination.
Too many people were working against him, Dumbledore, the editor of the Quibbler, that She-wolf Skeeter, Oh and let's not forget those five brats that managed to break in the Department of Mysteries with that Potter. A knock brought him out of his musings and with some efforts he managed to pull himself together. He knew now what to do. He was composed now.
With a nod he gestured for Dawlish to open the door. In filed his head off departments. They were barely seated in front off his desk when he announced before anyone could get his two cents in. "I Cornelius Fudge invoke Martial Law on Wizarding Britain until the threats off You-Know-Who and Potter has been banned, their followers strewn to the wind of oblivion." "I concur!" came the quiet voice from Amos Diggory "I do not agree about Potter but to defeat You-know-who it's probably the only way." "Good enough for now, Diggory" "I concur" This times it was the new Head of magical games and sports Codman Nott. One by one the head of departments agreed until only Arthur Weasley and Amelia Bones were left. The degree had already been passed they couldn't change anything but seal the vote unanimously?
"Arthur, Amelia do you really want your families to suffer because you think that the increased freedom for the magical law enforcement is not needed. Today is one reason you shouldn't hesitate to agree. If the ministry had free rein something like today in Diagon Alley could have been prevented. Think carefully the degree is already approved anyway." "I concur" came the strangled voice from Amelia Bones followed by Arthur Weasley. They felt the magic washing through them, binding them to their word; no way to retrace their steps now.
For good or ill they were committed now to Minister Fudge either until the crisis ended or until a new Minister revoked the Martial Law.
"Now", came the jovial voice off Minister Fudge again, "as my first act I need magical Law Enforcement to apprehend the following persons for treason, Albus Dumbledore, Nymphadora Tonks, Alastor Moody, the editor of the quibbler this Lovegood, Rita Skeeter and those delinquents who broke in the department of Mysteries with that damned Potter brat."
Turning around to Percy Weasley who stood in attendance behind his chair, he asked
"Weatherby what were their names again?"
"Well there was that stuck up Hermione Granger, muggle born off course, Luna Lovegood, her father is the editor of the quibbler. Neville Longbottom, how the poor boy had come to associate with these I can hardly imagine. And it shames me to say, my youngest siblings Ronald and Ginevra Weasley, I couldn't safe them from Potters clutches." He ended mournfully.
Arthur Weasley suppressed an angry look. Oh Percy how could you ever be sorted in to Gryffindor. He speaks with a twisted tongue, a snake tongue he realized. Well two could play at that game. Just you wait make one wrong move and you will fall faster than you had risen. Your mother won't take your side again. I wonder why Fudge does not charge me with being associated with Dumbledore. I have to be careful now. The slightest whisper off accusation can fall any of us now it won't matter if they are true or false.
The meeting ended not long afterwards. No one noticed the bug who had lodged itself over the door hardly to be seen in the dark wood.
When Arthur Weasley left she let herself flop on his hair, hoping he wouldn't apparate anytime soon. No such luck. With a silent plop the scenery changed. Instead of the ministry building she found herself to be in Arthur Weasley's home.
Annoyed she took off to the air again with a buzz observing Mr Weasley. Arthur Weasley after a brief search pulled a strange black stone out off his pocket. Why did he look though devastated? What was so interesting about that simple black stone?
She knew she should rather warn her employer but curiosity held her in place. Mr. Weasley shuffled from the kitchen to what looked like a living room.
His eyes were locked on a grandfather clock, which had nine hands. It didn't tell the time either. It showed the following, the hands with the names Molly, Ginevra, Ron, Fred, George were pointing all to Safety. Arthur had included that one shortly after Grimmauld Place was established as headquarters; though it doesn't necessarily applies to that place only. He was crying in relieve.
As he traced the names, Percy was no longer a part off the clock, Charlie who was at home (in Rumania anyway) and Bill…in prison?. Shock flooded him as he broke down and wept. Having seen enough for one evening Rita fled the room, transformed back and apparated to her employer's home. With any luck she wasn't too late.
A/N: factus-servus (lat) become slave
(pardon I never learned latin in school. This has been pieced together with an English Latin dictionary)