The Bus screeched to a stop. Jefferson clapped him hard on the shoulders as though he was a good friend.
"Take care of yourself, Potter." he murmured. Harry shoved a couple of Sickles toward him, shrugged, and stepped down the Knight Bus.
As the bus vanished out of sight, he glanced around him. He was standing at the entrance of a tiny port which was completely deserted. A pair of tiny yachts were tied to the paddock.
A frail, cloaked man suddenly stepped up toward him.
"You're a wizard, are yeh?" he asked disrespectfully.
Harry nodded and said, "Yes, and i'm heading for Azkaban, sir. Which boat shall i use"
The man sneered dissmissively and pointed towards one of the yachts. "Sheffield Port is now ran by wizards. Muggles who have once owned this place completely abandoned it, lucky for you, you'll have no trouble going there." he said.
Harry thanked him and approached the yacht. Instantly, a wooden staircase magically revealed itself at the boat's entrance, which he reluctantly went across.
Unlike the outside, the boat's deck was extremely messy and contained a foul-smelling odor of raw fish.
Life vests were stacked on one corner: enormous, black rats were squeaking under wrecked benches.
Suddenly, a loud explosion sounded from outside. His heart leaping a mile, Harry dashed back outside - and gasped in horror.
The port was concealed in a blanket of flames, fireballs hovering here and there.
Harry caught a glimpse of hooded black robes disappear out of sight near the port's entrance before the old man he conversed with a while ago came running into the boat.
"Run upstairs, we have to leave!" he screamed hoarsely, disappearing up a spiraling staircase coated with slime.
Moments later Harry felt a violent rumble from underneath - the yacht was about to leave. He poked his head out the window and watched as the boat simply drove away from the paddock, which had now burst into flames and crumpled into wrecked pieces of burnt wood.
Harry followed the man upstairs to the captain's deck, a tiny cabin bearing the controls of the entire boat.
"What happened?" said Harry breathlessly.
The old man steered the boat feverishly but managed to answer.
"Death Eaters arrived." he mumbled in a trembling voice.
Harry's jaw dropped. The feeble image of the hooded robes entered his mind.
"I saw them. But why did they have to set the port on fire?" Harry asked.
"I'm pretty sure they want to burn down every possible way of transportation to Azkaban. I believe that the Death Eaters would want to use the prison as headquarters. You see, the Prisoner is way out to sea, at the very heart of its fiery depths. You cannot track it with simple magic, nor ride brooms to get there." answered the man, wiping sweat off his forehead.
"Who are you?" he added rather impatiently.
"Harry Potter, sir." The man's eyes widened. "Well, that explains it! They weren't just here to burn down the entire port... They were probably tracking you down too"
... The journey through the wavy depths of the sea towards Azkaban was very unpredictable. Enormous waves kept forcing the ship to change direction, and the skies were showing every sign of an approaching storm.
Hours later, Harry was awoken due to a sudden bump of the ship against what sounded like rock.
He staggered upwards and dashed downstairs. The old man who before introduced himself as Dancel Donnikins was staring at something.
Fog was obscuring his senses. A second later, the view cleared. The ship had, apparently, bumped into the shore of a tiny, deserted island. In the middle was an enormous, rocky formation with tiny turrets at the top that distinctly gleamed under the thick clouds.
Harry stepped forward for a better look. If this was Azkaban, he now realized how horrible it was to reside there. The ancient, rocky formation was shaped like a castle, only smaller.
It was surrounded by enormous rocks and sand. The walls were covered with ancient slime and the aroma of seawater splashing against it.
It now looked as though the fortress was once a grand citadel, suddenly damaged by nature's catastrophes, and rebuilt very poorly.
Harry jumped out of the yacht as his sneakers crunched on pebbles and sand.
"Be careful - you dont know what resides around the fortress." Dancel muttered hoarsely.
Harry nodded, his heart racing. If any of the Order of the Phoenix members find out he was here, they would be no doubt, very furious with him.
He approached the looming prison, its rocky walls gleaming brighter than ever, dripping with muck.
Suddenly, he was thrown backwards by an invisible force. He landed in a heap a few meters near the boat and groaned faintly. He managed to stagger upwards into a standing position, wondering what might come next.
A silvery orb suddenly materialized in front of him. And in a fraction of a second, it sprouted arms and legs, a face, silvery hair and a silvery, pointed wand.
The apparition was a woman with floor-length, translucent, silvery-white robes, a few meters of silvery hair, and abnormally long fingers that were clenched on the silvery wand.
The apparition closely resembled a Veela, the ones that performed in the Quidditch World Cup season two years before. Harry stuttered, rooted in his spot.
"A-are you a ghost?" he asked.
The foggy, silvery apparition shook her head calmly, but her eyes were glistening like black coals.
"Why do you trespass upon this land? Present the authorization of the Ministry." the apparition said in a misty voice like a nightingale singing very softly.
Harry shook his head and said, "I dont have one, but i'm here on an important mission. Who are you"
"We are the newly recruited guards of this prison," the apparition said. "We are fairies," she added.
With a wave of her long fingers, Harry was surrounded by a cloud of silvery smoke. Suddenly, identical silvery-white women materialized around him, bearing identical, silvery wands that gleamed perfectly.
"You cannot trespass the walls of these island without the Ministry's permittance." one of them said in a harsh, misty voice.
"I came to ask questions for a prisoner named Mundungus Fletcher." said Harry nervously.
The fairy looked surprised. "He is new here." she said in her mistiest voice.
"I want to see him, please." Harry pleaded. "This is very important"
The fairies exchanged troubled glances, and spoke in a misty, unusual language.
"We will permit you for once, but never again after this. Welcome to Azkaban," the first fairy said, and pointed her silvery wand towards the steel entrance door leading into the fortress.
In an instant, the door slammed open. "Thank you," Harry said, and without looking back, he proceeded inside.
It was extremely hot inside. Not a window was visible. A thousand prison cells lined the first floor, as well as the upper floors. A steep, spiraling staircase made out of pure rock was constructed at the end of the first floor which gradually moved upwards like an escalator.
The warden, an irritable-looking witch in very thin, maroon clothes guided him towards Mundungus's cell. Along the way, she muttered things like "Horrible, stupid place" and "Collywobbles"
"Them new Azkaban guards must've given you a fright," she said as the winding staircase gradually went up.
"Yeah," Harry murmured, suddenly feeling a slight urge of hatred. He was about to see the man who has stolen his possessions - Sirius's memorabilia.
They went across the seventh floor, Harry being careful not to glance at any of the prisoners inside their cells. Finally at the end of the corridor, the warden pointed to a cell where the familiar figure of Mundungus Fletcher lay still, his face buried in his arms as he wept silently on the cold, stone floor.
He looked up as soon as he heard Harry clear his throat aggressively.
Mundungus' eyes bulged out of its sockets. For a moment, he looked as though he was about to burst into tears. "I'm so sorry, Harry... deeply sorry for what i've done." he said.
Harry stood frozen, surveying the moaning prisoner behind the bars that enclosed him. His eyes landed on the man's neck, where a gleaming, golden locket was hidden, the tiny serpentine S scribbled on its front that represented Salazar Slytherin.
"The only way in which you can forgive me is to give back that locket you stole from my Godfather." Harry said, not taking his eyes off the real Horcrux.
Mundungus clutched the locket sharply. "This locket was very valuable. A tiny, hidden compartment was inside this very locket, where it concealed a miniature diamond that glistened forever. The Ministry inspected me the day before i was sent here. Rufus Scrimgeour and his Aurors took the diamond and left me to keep the locket. It was probably a very significant artifact for they were all speechless upon finding its contents." he explained briefly.
Harry's jaw dropped, unable to register what Mundungus had mentioned.
"You still have to give me that locket." he said firmly. Mundungus morosely reached into his cloak, pulled out the glistening, golden necklace and handed it to Harry.
"I have to get that diamond as soon as i can," Harry said. "And when i do, you'll be out of here in no time." Mundungus' eyes lit up, and he grinned apologetically.
"Thank you, Harry." he muttered.
And gripping the Horcrux tightly in his hand, Harry sped down the staircase and back to the boat
"Take care of yourself, Potter." he murmured. Harry shoved a couple of Sickles toward him, shrugged, and stepped down the Knight Bus.
As the bus vanished out of sight, he glanced around him. He was standing at the entrance of a tiny port which was completely deserted. A pair of tiny yachts were tied to the paddock.
A frail, cloaked man suddenly stepped up toward him.
"You're a wizard, are yeh?" he asked disrespectfully.
Harry nodded and said, "Yes, and i'm heading for Azkaban, sir. Which boat shall i use"
The man sneered dissmissively and pointed towards one of the yachts. "Sheffield Port is now ran by wizards. Muggles who have once owned this place completely abandoned it, lucky for you, you'll have no trouble going there." he said.
Harry thanked him and approached the yacht. Instantly, a wooden staircase magically revealed itself at the boat's entrance, which he reluctantly went across.
Unlike the outside, the boat's deck was extremely messy and contained a foul-smelling odor of raw fish.
Life vests were stacked on one corner: enormous, black rats were squeaking under wrecked benches.
Suddenly, a loud explosion sounded from outside. His heart leaping a mile, Harry dashed back outside - and gasped in horror.
The port was concealed in a blanket of flames, fireballs hovering here and there.
Harry caught a glimpse of hooded black robes disappear out of sight near the port's entrance before the old man he conversed with a while ago came running into the boat.
"Run upstairs, we have to leave!" he screamed hoarsely, disappearing up a spiraling staircase coated with slime.
Moments later Harry felt a violent rumble from underneath - the yacht was about to leave. He poked his head out the window and watched as the boat simply drove away from the paddock, which had now burst into flames and crumpled into wrecked pieces of burnt wood.
Harry followed the man upstairs to the captain's deck, a tiny cabin bearing the controls of the entire boat.
"What happened?" said Harry breathlessly.
The old man steered the boat feverishly but managed to answer.
"Death Eaters arrived." he mumbled in a trembling voice.
Harry's jaw dropped. The feeble image of the hooded robes entered his mind.
"I saw them. But why did they have to set the port on fire?" Harry asked.
"I'm pretty sure they want to burn down every possible way of transportation to Azkaban. I believe that the Death Eaters would want to use the prison as headquarters. You see, the Prisoner is way out to sea, at the very heart of its fiery depths. You cannot track it with simple magic, nor ride brooms to get there." answered the man, wiping sweat off his forehead.
"Who are you?" he added rather impatiently.
"Harry Potter, sir." The man's eyes widened. "Well, that explains it! They weren't just here to burn down the entire port... They were probably tracking you down too"
... The journey through the wavy depths of the sea towards Azkaban was very unpredictable. Enormous waves kept forcing the ship to change direction, and the skies were showing every sign of an approaching storm.
Hours later, Harry was awoken due to a sudden bump of the ship against what sounded like rock.
He staggered upwards and dashed downstairs. The old man who before introduced himself as Dancel Donnikins was staring at something.
Fog was obscuring his senses. A second later, the view cleared. The ship had, apparently, bumped into the shore of a tiny, deserted island. In the middle was an enormous, rocky formation with tiny turrets at the top that distinctly gleamed under the thick clouds.
Harry stepped forward for a better look. If this was Azkaban, he now realized how horrible it was to reside there. The ancient, rocky formation was shaped like a castle, only smaller.
It was surrounded by enormous rocks and sand. The walls were covered with ancient slime and the aroma of seawater splashing against it.
It now looked as though the fortress was once a grand citadel, suddenly damaged by nature's catastrophes, and rebuilt very poorly.
Harry jumped out of the yacht as his sneakers crunched on pebbles and sand.
"Be careful - you dont know what resides around the fortress." Dancel muttered hoarsely.
Harry nodded, his heart racing. If any of the Order of the Phoenix members find out he was here, they would be no doubt, very furious with him.
He approached the looming prison, its rocky walls gleaming brighter than ever, dripping with muck.
Suddenly, he was thrown backwards by an invisible force. He landed in a heap a few meters near the boat and groaned faintly. He managed to stagger upwards into a standing position, wondering what might come next.
A silvery orb suddenly materialized in front of him. And in a fraction of a second, it sprouted arms and legs, a face, silvery hair and a silvery, pointed wand.
The apparition was a woman with floor-length, translucent, silvery-white robes, a few meters of silvery hair, and abnormally long fingers that were clenched on the silvery wand.
The apparition closely resembled a Veela, the ones that performed in the Quidditch World Cup season two years before. Harry stuttered, rooted in his spot.
"A-are you a ghost?" he asked.
The foggy, silvery apparition shook her head calmly, but her eyes were glistening like black coals.
"Why do you trespass upon this land? Present the authorization of the Ministry." the apparition said in a misty voice like a nightingale singing very softly.
Harry shook his head and said, "I dont have one, but i'm here on an important mission. Who are you"
"We are the newly recruited guards of this prison," the apparition said. "We are fairies," she added.
With a wave of her long fingers, Harry was surrounded by a cloud of silvery smoke. Suddenly, identical silvery-white women materialized around him, bearing identical, silvery wands that gleamed perfectly.
"You cannot trespass the walls of these island without the Ministry's permittance." one of them said in a harsh, misty voice.
"I came to ask questions for a prisoner named Mundungus Fletcher." said Harry nervously.
The fairy looked surprised. "He is new here." she said in her mistiest voice.
"I want to see him, please." Harry pleaded. "This is very important"
The fairies exchanged troubled glances, and spoke in a misty, unusual language.
"We will permit you for once, but never again after this. Welcome to Azkaban," the first fairy said, and pointed her silvery wand towards the steel entrance door leading into the fortress.
In an instant, the door slammed open. "Thank you," Harry said, and without looking back, he proceeded inside.
It was extremely hot inside. Not a window was visible. A thousand prison cells lined the first floor, as well as the upper floors. A steep, spiraling staircase made out of pure rock was constructed at the end of the first floor which gradually moved upwards like an escalator.
The warden, an irritable-looking witch in very thin, maroon clothes guided him towards Mundungus's cell. Along the way, she muttered things like "Horrible, stupid place" and "Collywobbles"
"Them new Azkaban guards must've given you a fright," she said as the winding staircase gradually went up.
"Yeah," Harry murmured, suddenly feeling a slight urge of hatred. He was about to see the man who has stolen his possessions - Sirius's memorabilia.
They went across the seventh floor, Harry being careful not to glance at any of the prisoners inside their cells. Finally at the end of the corridor, the warden pointed to a cell where the familiar figure of Mundungus Fletcher lay still, his face buried in his arms as he wept silently on the cold, stone floor.
He looked up as soon as he heard Harry clear his throat aggressively.
Mundungus' eyes bulged out of its sockets. For a moment, he looked as though he was about to burst into tears. "I'm so sorry, Harry... deeply sorry for what i've done." he said.
Harry stood frozen, surveying the moaning prisoner behind the bars that enclosed him. His eyes landed on the man's neck, where a gleaming, golden locket was hidden, the tiny serpentine S scribbled on its front that represented Salazar Slytherin.
"The only way in which you can forgive me is to give back that locket you stole from my Godfather." Harry said, not taking his eyes off the real Horcrux.
Mundungus clutched the locket sharply. "This locket was very valuable. A tiny, hidden compartment was inside this very locket, where it concealed a miniature diamond that glistened forever. The Ministry inspected me the day before i was sent here. Rufus Scrimgeour and his Aurors took the diamond and left me to keep the locket. It was probably a very significant artifact for they were all speechless upon finding its contents." he explained briefly.
Harry's jaw dropped, unable to register what Mundungus had mentioned.
"You still have to give me that locket." he said firmly. Mundungus morosely reached into his cloak, pulled out the glistening, golden necklace and handed it to Harry.
"I have to get that diamond as soon as i can," Harry said. "And when i do, you'll be out of here in no time." Mundungus' eyes lit up, and he grinned apologetically.
"Thank you, Harry." he muttered.
And gripping the Horcrux tightly in his hand, Harry sped down the staircase and back to the boat
+ Until the third chapter!