"Interrogation" sequences straight ahead! If it bothers you, then you have problems.
Harry and his prisoner apparated directly into the dungeons of Lion Castle, as Harry affectionately called it. He levitated the unconscious form of the Death Eater, and shackled his wrists to chains hanging from the wall; They were wet and rust covered from the endless amount of moisture that had been festering in the dungeons for nearly a millenium. Harry picked up a nearby chunk of stone that had been dislodged from a wall, and hit it against each of the chains. Neither of them gave, and Harry nodded his approval. They may have looked weak from the rust, but they were still sturdy enough to hold until he could replace them.
Three hours had since gone by, and Harry was smiling contentedly at his now unmasked prisoner. He had let the man wake up on his own from his slumber, not feeling any need to hurry the interrogation. Harry vaguely recognized him as one of Malfoy's cronies from Hogwarts, but couldn't place a name to his face, nor did he particularly care; He would find out everything he needed or wanted to know without further delay.
"Who are you? Where am I?" The prisoner groggily asked, mistakenly taking Harry's smile as a friendly one.
"I'm your executioner, and you're in my office." Harry cheerfully replied.
This seemed to shock the prisoner into awareness, and made him realize his wrists were chained to the wall.
"Now let's get this straight right away; I don't want to waste needless time with your protestations of ignorance and refusals to let anything go. The only possible way for you to avoid ending up chained to that table over there," He gestured to a long wooden table with a spike ridden metal rack suspended over it, "Is to truthfully answer every question I have to ask, and no lying."
The prisoner's eyes widened in fear, but he remarkably seemed to compose himself a moment later. "Whoever you are, the Dark Lord will find you and kill--"
Harry cut him off by landing a well aimed punch to the prisoner's mouth. "Oh yes, I know. Your little 'Dark Lord,'" He sarcastically stressed the title, while making air quotes with his fingers, "Will find me, and he will kill me. But you're forgetting the fun part; He won't kill me at first, he'll kill my family, making me watch. He might even cast Imperio on me and make me kill them myself, and then he'll kill me. I've heard it before, you wanker, so save your breath. You'll need it for screaming."
The prisoner's face scrunched up in fury at the mocking of his leader, and he thrashed against the wall, trying to kick out at Harry. "You're nothing to the Dark Lord, he wouldn't even deem you worthy enough to kill himself, he'll let someone else do it!"
Harry hit the prisoner again, breaking his nose, and slamming the back of his head back against the stone wall. "That's enough, prisoner. This place is unchartable. No portkeys. No apparation. No communities nearby. There's also some interesting defensive wards in place that block your master's ability to see through his minion's eyes. Delightful place, don't you think?"
"Nobody can hide from the Dark Lord. He will still find you, and you'll be forced to bow before him, before dying." The prisoner spat, hitting Harry with blood.
Harry sighed and wiped his face off, shaking his head in exasperation at the prisoner. "You're starting to bore me, and that's not good for your well-being. I hope you've not forgotten that table over there, because I sure haven't."
The prisoner did nothing but glare.
"Let's start with something simple. Tell me your name."
"Callahan, Peter Callahan." He snobbishly replied, as though his name was of some great importance.
"Never heard of you." Harry absently replied, angering Callahan.
"I suppose you're some filthy mudblood, having never heard of me or my family? That would make sense. The Dark Lord is going to have--"
"Shut the fuck up about Voldemort already." Harry snapped.
"You dare speak his name?" Callahan's voice rose to a demanding shout.
"Raise your voice at me again and I'll pull out your toe nails and shove them into your eyeballs." Harry said in reply. This shut the prisoner up, and Harry continued his interrogation. "I suppose that since you deem your name to be important, you're some inbred pureblood pansy boy. How you lower your 'amazing' standards enough to be a half-blood's bitch is beyond me." Harry deliberately taunted, grinning at the fury that was showing on Callahan's face. "Remember what I said about your toe nails and your eyeballs. I wasn't kidding."
Callahan thrashed about in rage, but never came close to hitting Harry.
"Now that we've got your insignificant name out of the way, let's go to more important things; How did you know that Ministry forces were going to be at the train tonight, in order to ambush them?" Harry asked.
"The Dark Lord knows all." Callahan almost serenely replied.
"He doesn't know where you are, now does he? That makes you a liar, which makes me angry. I thought I said no lying to me?" Harry clucked his tongue and shook his head in disappointment. He waved his hand, causing Callahan's Death Eater robe to vanish, leaving him in nothing but a plain t-shirt and his boxers. Harry waved his hand again, and the shirt vanished. "For each lie you tell, you earn one mark. So far you have spoken one lie, thus you have earned one mark. Do you understand the process?" Harry patiently asked, as though he was speaking to a well-liked student as opposed to an enemy prisoner. Callanhan just stared. Harry shook his head again and summoned a knife from a table against the wall.
Callahan's eyes widened at the wandless magic, and then widened further in panic when he took in the ten inch long, rusted blade that was in his captor's hand. "No! Don't!" He begged.
"Too late." Harry slowly stuck the point of the blade into Callahan's skin, just below his right collar bone, drawing a hiss of pain from the prisoner. Harry then drew the blade across his chest, ending at the left collar bone. Callahan bit his lip to keep from screaming, and succeeded in doing so.
"Now," Harry continued, "How did you know that Ministry forces would be there to be ambushed tonight?"
"Torturing prisoners is against Ministry regulations, they'll have your head for this." Callahan replied.
"Refusal to answer, and thinking that I give a flying fuck about the Ministry, equal out to two more marks." Harry countered, raising the knife again.
Several screams later, and the prisoner had two additional cuts going across his chest, spaced an inch apart. Callahan was panting, and blood was pouring from the wounds. Harry suspected that he would die of blood loss relatively soon, if preventive measures were not taken. Thus decided, Harry summoned a small fireball over his palm, much to the dismay of Callahan, and directed it towards the prisoner's chest. Callahan screamed as the fire dug into his wounds, cauterizing them and charring the surrounding flesh.
Harry's interrogation was interrupted as the heavy wooden door to the stairs slammed open and Hermione came streaking in, yelling his name. Harry jerked around in irritation at the intrusion, though he had been expecting it.
"Harry..." The prisoner whispered, and a dawning look of comprehension spread across his face. "Harry Potter! I knew I recognized you!" Callahan screamed in rage, "My master was most disappointed when he learned that you 'died' in the Azkaban explosion, he's going to be very pleased to learn that you still live. He wants the pleasure of killing you, himself."
Harry slammed his fist into Callahan's right eye, again knocking his head back against the wall. This drew a gasp from Hermione, accompanied by a louder gasp as she took in the prisoner's state of health. She narrowed her eyes and stalked towards Harry, grabbing him by the elbow and forcefully dragging him out of the dungeon, and into the stairway.
"What the hell do you think you're doing, Harry?" She furiously demanded.
"I was getting information vital to our war efforts, Hermione." Harry heatedly replied.
Remus, Sirius, and Tonks came down the stairs then and stood outside potential swinging range of the arguing duo.
"You're torturing a prisoner! If you torture a prisoner, you're sinking down to their level!" Hermione exclaimed.
Harry raised his eyebrow, and smirked slightly, "This is war, Hermione. Shit happens. If you want to beat your enemy, then you need to break your enemy; Make the bastards fear you before the fight even begins. Why do you think Voldemort has been stomping all over your asses for the past eight years? Because everybody is scared to death of his very name."
"Harry's right, Hermione," Sirius spoke up, "It's time to stop being lenient with Death Eaters."
"We don't have to be lenient, but we also do not have to resort to torture!" Hermione practically screamed.
"Then what do you propose, laying out a tea set and refuse to offer him anything?" Harry sarcastically asked. "Hermione, that bastard in there would not hesitate a second to cast Imperio on you and will you to suffocate your own mother, and then stab your father to death. He would not hesitate a second to put the Cruciatus curse on you, even when you're unarmed, and hold it until you're gripped by insanity. He would gladly put a body bind on you, and violate you in any way imaginable. Yet you wish to have mercy on these sons of bitches? I watched what they did every night while I was in Azkaban; You would beg for me not to tell you some of the things I saw them do, you would claw your eyes out if you were to see what they did. They are monsters, pure and simple. I will grant no mercy, and I will not just break, but I will shatter every one of them that I come across."
Hermione's eyes were brimmed with tears by the end of Harry's tirade, and she hugged him. Harry looked on in confusion, but returned the hug. Hermione broke out of his grasp, and quietly spoke, "I still don't condone it, but I won't try and stop you." That said, she turned and ran up the stairs.
"Well said, Harry." Sirius spoke up. Remus and Tonks had remained conspicuously silent throughout the mini-speech, and Harry looked at them in question. Remus fidgeted slightly under the gaze, "I will have to agree with Hermione here. Torturing prisoners make you no better than Voldemort himself."
"Oh bugger that," Tonks growled, "Give them everything they deserve, if the bloody Death Eaters are hardcore with their loyalty to Voldemort, then they better learn the consequences of being captured by us."
Harry smiled at Tonks, and she batted her eyelashes in return, making him laugh.
Sirius raised his eyebrows at the two, but remained silent. Remus turned and walked back up the stairs, but before reaching the top, he called back, "By the way, Harry, that was a rather crunching blow you delivered to Charlie back on the train. Madame Pomfrey had a fit when she saw how much blood he lost. He's alive and awake though." He gave a final nod, then followed Hermione's footsteps.
"I have more information I want to get, so I'm going to go back to work." Harry said.
Sirius and Tonks nodded, and turned and made their way up the stairs as well. Harry opened the door to the dungeon and walked back in, eying the prisoner as he did so. Callahan looked very distraught, much to Harry's pleasure.
"I hope you heard the conversation that took place behind that door," Harry stated.
Callahan nodded mutely.
"Good. Then you know how much pain I would very much like to inflict on you. Just give me the tiniest excuse, and I'll show you some agony that Voldemort can't even begin to conjure.
"The Dark Lord knows more about the Dark Arts than you will in a hundred lifetimes."
"Does he?" Harry asked with a smile, which utterly spooked Callahan. "Can you be so certain of that fact? Voldemort cast the killing curse on me; It failed. Voldemort cast the Imperious curse on me; It failed. Voldemort cast the Cruciatus curse on me; I didn't break. I'm the sole survivor of the Azkaban explosion; Coincedence? I think not. I could just break into your mind and rip out any knowledge that I want, but that leaves far too high of a chance of you being left insane." Harry drilled into Callahan's mind as an example, and took control of his brain and ignited his nerve endings, making him scream in pain.
Callahan's body convulsed in agony, and his eyes rolled back into his head. Saliva began running from his mouth as he relentlessly screamed, and he lost his bladder.
Harry finalled let go, and pulled out of his mind. The pain began dying for Callahan, but it was a gradual process. "Do you see what I can do to you?" Harry finally asked, as Callahan returned to as much a state of normalcy as he could, after an event such as that. "The feeling of doing that is intoxicating, and I want to do it again, I hope to do it again. But I'm a reasonable man, so if you tell me everything I want to know, then I won't do it again. Do you understand?"
Callahan nodded, as his body remained trembling slightly.
"Good. Now, how did you know to ambush the Ministry forces on the train tonight?"
An hour later, Harry strolled back into the dining hall of the castle, and met the looks of the occupants. Snape had been added to the group by now, and was sipping a cup of coffee. "The Order of the Phoenix has a spy in their midst," Harry declared.
"How could that be? Dumbledore is so careful." Sirius said.
"Mister Callahan doesn't know the name of the person, but he's male, and is in a position to know things such as when and where Phoenix field agents will be out in force."
"You captured Peter Callahan?" Snape asked, with a raised eyebrow.
Harry nodded, with a grin. "He was very cooperative after I began taking...extreme measures with him; Squealed like a pig."
"Yes, I heard about your new interrogation techniques. I must say, Voldemort's followers will be a bit more nervous about being caught, if this gets out." Snape allowed an evil grin to surface, as Harry nodded knowingly.
"I agree. We just need to work out how it's going to be done. I can easily wipe myself and everybody elses names from his memory, but Voldemort will know that it wasn't a Ministry abiding group that caught him, when he sees what's left of him."
Harry and Snape's potentially devious plotting was interrupted as Snape's Order of the Phoenix amulet began alerting him of something.
"An emergency meeting has been called by Dumbledore," Snape said. Looks of confusion from the other members met this, as their amulets had not gone off.
"I wonder what's going on," Hermione worriedly said, as she bit her bottom lip.
"Professor," Harry spoke up, "Can you open your mind to me and allow me to watch the meeting through your eyes? I have a suspicion of the meeting topic."
Snape looked extremely wary about letting Harry into his head, and took several long moments to consider it. "Very well. But you better not start poking around in places you don't belong." He scowled.
"I promise." Harry solemnly stated.
Snape nodded, still looking aprehensive about it, and opened a door in his mind to allow Harry access. Harry softly extended his mind out to Snape's, and connected with it. He could now see through Snape's eyes, and hear through his ears. Harry nodded that he was in, and Snape portkeyed away.
Snape, with Harry piggy backing, arrived in Tonks' basement, as that was the default location for all Lion portkeys now. From there, he disapparated to a dark alley connecting to Grimmauld Place, and then he walked the rest of the way to the house at number 12. He entered the house, and swept into the kitchen, with his usual surly expression firmly implanted on his face. The entire Inner Circle of the Order was seated around the table, minus Hermione, Sirius, Remus, and Tonks. Snape lowered himself into his usual chair, and waited for Dumbledore to begin the meeting. Harry briefly wondered where Arabella Figg and Dedalus Diggle were. He was somewhat surprised when Snape's voice echoed in his head in response to the question, "They were killed in Death Eater attacks. Figg; About five years ago. Diggle; Two years ago."
Harry and Snape both paid rapt attention as Dumbledore signalled the beginning of the meeting. Whispers around the table drew to a halt, and everybody watched Dumbledore.
"I believe that Harry Potter is alive, and is in hiding."
That simple statement threw the table into chaos, with shouts of defiance and growls of anger resonating through the room. Snape slammed his fist down on the table, and everyone quieted down, looking at him. "If you're all done acting like first year Hufflepuffs, maybe Albus can explain further," He sneered, while glaring at the lot of them. "I, personally, would like to know how Potter supposedly escaped the claws of death, yet again."
Everyone seemed to quietly come to their senses and agree with this, aside from Molly Weasley, who was still in hysterics, "That brute is going to come after my poor Ron, I know it! He will never forgive him for putting him in Azkaban: It was Ron, on his own, that did it. He was so brave, and now he has a killer after him!" She cried to anyone that would listen, while Arthur Weasley tried to comfort her.
"Yes..." Snape seemed to take malicious pleasure in responding to her, "Potter will undoubtedly be after your...hero," He stressed the word, while raising his eyebrows only slightly, "Of a son, and he will, also undoubtedly, cut him open from head to toe, drain his blood out, then drink it. Especially seeing that Weasley never did, and never will, hold a candle to the power and skill of a peaceful Potter, let alone an Azkaban induced rage and psychosis. So perhaps you should stop your blubbering and allow Albus to explain what he's talking about, so we can take appropriate measures to stop Potter." As he drew to a close, Harry was laughing his ass off in Snape's head, nearly bringing out a smile in Snape.
"Severus, that was unnecessary." Dumbledore sternly spoke, looking at the Potions professor. Snape merely shrugged, not caring either way if Dumbledore approved of his methods for shutting people up or not. "However, I do need to explain myself, so if I can have everyone's silence for a few short minutes?" Dumbledore looked around the table, catching a nod from everyone.
"Good. As you all well know, Azkaban was consumed in a magical explosion several days ago. After Professor Granger was informed of this, I let her sort her grief out on her own, in her quarters. Precisely an hour later, Sirius Black and Remus Lupin entered her quarters; There they remained for several more hours, presumably consoling one another. I decided to check up on them, offer them services from the kitchens, and such. Just prior to knocking on Professor Granger's door, I heard Sirius yell out 'Harry,' and I made my presence known. It took several moments for Hermione to open the door, but once I did enter, I noticed impressions on the rug next to her fireplace, where a chair would sit. The chairs were not there, and Hermione, Sirius, and Remus each had their own chairs in place. After inquiring about Sirius' yell, in which he replied that he nodded off and had a dream, I noticed drops of blood on the floor. I then left, and spent the next couple days mulling over these events, trying to come to a conclusion. I had my suspicions then, but couldn't afford to alienate those three any further by casting accusations." He paused here, and looked around the table to make sure everyone was still following him. They were, with the rapt attention that a first year muggleborn would give to their first class.
Dumbledore continued, "My final bit of evidence came to me just a couple short hours ago, in the form of Charlie Weasley. As you know, Charlie was struck in the head with a near fatal blow, from the masked asailant that was apparently neither with us, or against us," He drew off as Molly Weasley again started sobbing, as Arthur resumed comforting her.
"Charlie is in good health now, largely in part to Madame Pomfrey's significant skills as a healer, and he is awake. He has told me that the last thing he saw before being struck unconscious, was the assailant's eyes. They were a vivid, almost unnatural shade of green." Dumbledore stopped speaking, as Minerva McGonogal gasped.
"Lily Evans...Harry Potter." She whispered.
Dumbledore nodded, having obviously come to the same conclusion.
"How could that be?" Kingsley Shacklebolt demanded, rising half way out of his seat. "He disapparated through anti-apparation wards. Some of the best duelists and Aurors in Great Britain were in our task force, attacking him when he arrived. He held up a shield that deflected everything, even the Cruciatus curse, with such ease that it was like they were flies! His power was palpable, it was almost smothering. He physically attacked the Death Eaters, and was more agile, faster and stronger about it than any person I've ever seen. He literally sliced Theodore Nott in half with a spell that I have never seen or heard of, wandlessly. He manhandled them, and then showed off a talent of pyrokinesis by summoning and directing a ball of fire at their leader. His attention to us was obviously distracted in his face off with their leader, and after he escaped, he was too furious to notice us getting ready to attack. As you know, I sent a dark curse at him, the heart rupture curse, and it hurt him. But he was able to throw it off, and once again, tear through the anti-apparation wards, that time with a prisoner piggy backing. The Harry Potter I knew wouldn't stand a virgin's chance in Knockturn Alley of coming out of there unscathed." Shacklebolt ended his thoughts on the matter by slumping back into his chair, looking more than a bit disturbed.
"Shacklebolt brings up good points," Snape spoke up, "Potter wasn't nearly good enough to stand through that. Not to mention, he was a small figure going into Azkaban, Merlin knows how decrepit he would look after eight years in there." Snape ignored Harry's snort, but almost laughed when Harry muttered about still being far better of a wizard than dear old Ronniekins would ever be, regardless of how he was before Azkaban. "Even though he couldn't have survived that situation," Snape continued in an after thought, "He would've fared far better than Weasley, who probably would've wet his pants in fear. At least Potter was more than advanced in his Defense Against the Dark Arts skill and knowledge." He smirked as Molly started sobbing harder, and Arthur rose to his feet in indignation.
"Severus," Albus warned, "Please refrain from making such comments. Ronald Weasley has contributed more than his share of work for the Light, in the past eight years. His courage is not to be doubted."
"If that's so," Severus countered, "Then why has he not joined the Order, instead of staying safely tucked away in his office?"
Arthur grew red in the face, and snarled at Snape, "Listen, Snape. My son has done more for our cause--"
"Arthur, please. Let's not start this." Albus' tone was pleading, "We have more important issues to discuss, such as if this masked assailant is really Harry Potter, and if so, how he gathered so much power."
Arthur reluctantly sat back down, though kept a furious glare turned in Snape's direction. Snape merely smirked, and absently wondered how Weasley was able to keep his cool in governmental gatherings.
Harry Potter opened his eyes, and smiled at the curious looks of Sirius, Hermione, Remus, and Tonks. It had been an hour since the meeting began, and he was quite pleased with how it turned out. "My suspicions were proved correct: Dumbledore believes that I live still, and am the 'masked assailant' from the galleon train. The Order's Inner Circle believes him, but are slightly wary. You four are now considered threats to the safety of the Order of the Phoenix, and will gradually be pushed out of the Inner Circle, and fed disinformation while they actively hunt me. The battle lines have been drawn, my friends. Looks like you're on my side of the line." Harry smiled, almost happily.
The other four looked somewhat torn; Their love and loyalty of the Order of the Phoenix was now at an end, and with it, a legacy that took up good portions of their lives. They each met Harry with a gaze of steel, though. They were prepared to stand at his side and march with him into the gates of hell if necessary.
Remus snapped out of his determined mind set, and recalled an event that happened right after Harry disapparated with the prisoner from the train, "Harry, right after you disapparated from the train, an owl flew in through the door, bearing a letter. I saw that it was addressed to you, and took it." He handed the letter to Harry, who looked at it curiously, while discreetly examining it with magic to make sure no surprises were inside.
Harry opened the rough, heavy paper letter, and took out a single piece of parchment.
Harry,
I see that you took advantage of your reading materials, and quite pleased with your success. I'm also pleased with your ability to hide, as this is the fourth time I have tried owling you since Azkaban went up in flames. My owls have all returned, still bearing the letter, leading me to believe that you found somewhere nice and secluded, completely unplottable. This will be very important in the coming weeks, as you will no doubt see. I will keep this letter short, since I'm very impatient when it comes to writing things.
I want you to meet me in Glasgow, in two days time. This is imparative. Write a reply to this letter with your acceptance, and leave it behind the Merlin statue at the corner of Diagon Alley and Knockturn Alley, by six o' clock, tomorrow evening. I will owl you again with an exact location in Glasgow, and a time.
A friend
Harry raised his eyebrows slightly, and took a piece of parchment and scribbled onto it. He set it on a nearby table, and wondered who it was that wanted to meet him.
This concludes chapter 8...you probably all are very disgruntled about my lack of updating skills...I can't offer much in the way of defense, except that I kind of forgot about it for a couple weeks. Anyway, a lot's happened since my last update...went to Ozzfest in Raleigh, crowd surfed during Slipknot...fun stuff. My area of residence(Western NC) has suffered several tens of millions of dollars of flooding damage from Hurricanes Frances and Ivan(the bastards). Water was six feet above the road just a couple miles from my house, washing away lots of things, such as running water and power :P
And now, I'm heading into Jeanne. Going to Florida in about seven hours to grab my mom, and come back home. Hopefully there won't be much action before I get back out.
FFN screwed up my tabbing thingamajigger again. glares
Oh, and if there's any grammatical errors in this chapter...please forgive me. My beta reader is never online anymore(furious fist waving), so blame her. Her name is Katy Roedel, and she lives in Long Island, New York. She has a user name on ffn, but I don't feel like looking it up. Has something to do with the word "Uber"...I think. Anyway, she posted a review to my last chapter, saying "Fuck you!"...etc. So yeah, that's her. Flame her if there's any grammatical errors that upset you :P
By the way, her phone number is...hahaha, just kidding, Katy.