A/N: Hello? Anyone there? I'm back! Sorry, sorry, a million times sorry. I have a suitcase full of excuses, but the important thing is that Chapter 26 is FINALLY here. Special thanks to the Cunha family, Steph, Nat, butterbeer and Rads for giving me the encouragement and support I needed to keep going. I hope you enjoy!
Chapter 26 – Below the BeltHarry spent the greater part of Sunday in the Gryffindor common room poring over his homework. After a short trip to the Great Hall for breakfast, he was blatantly aware that although his friends and Dumbledore did not blame him for Parvati's disappearance, the remainder of the Hogwarts population was skeptical. The hissed whispers and snide comments were more than Harry could handle with his already frayed nerves. Ron and Hermione took pity on him and snuck him food for both lunch and supper. Hermione, always the voice of reason, reminded Harry that he couldn't hide forever, but for the time being, Harry enjoyed his reprieve. Harry tried to ignore the fact that his fellow Gryffindors were also keeping a wide berth around him. He'd survived worse and took solace in the fact that Ron and Hermione were by his side, no matter what.
Ginny, on the other hand…
Harry sighed and raised his eyes from the textbook lying in front of him. He scanned the common room; she was still nowhere to be seen. He hadn't seen Ginny since the previous night when she was talking to Dean. She had disappeared shortly thereafter. He tried to ignore the hollow feeling that had invaded his insides. It was unlike Ginny to not ask about his conversation with Dumbledore. Surely, she had been concerned when she left the hospital wing. Had something happened since? However, with sinking realization, Harry had to admit that he wasn't necessarily on her priority list. She had her schoolwork and … Dean. Harry's stomach twisted unpleasantly as a scowl spread across his features. He returned to his textbook and worked well into the night, shutting out the world around him.
After a fitful sleep and a squelching run in the freezing rain, Harry entered the Great Hall Monday morning in dark spirits. The frenzied whispers of students as he walked by did nothing to improve his mood. He slid silently into his seat and nodded grudgingly in greeting at Ron and Hermione seated across from him. He grabbed a slice of toast and tore into it, attacking it as though it were the source of his irritation. Ron and Hermione were wise enough to stay quiet. Harry grasped his glass of pumpkin juice and took several deep gulps before setting it back down. He was about to take another bite of his toast when another blow was thrown his way.
Ginny had finally made an appearance; unfortunately, she was walking hand in hand with the Great Git. Harry watched as they made their way along the Gryffindor table. Dean stopped halfway and was about to take a seat when he noticed Ginny continue along. He tugged on her hand, forcing her to spin around and face him. Harry's insides rolled unpleasantly as a shot of anger pulsed through his veins. From Ginny's stance, Harry knew she was not happy. Harry held his breath in anticipation, waiting for Ginny to release her temper on Dean; the stupid git deserved everything she could give. Harry watched in horror as Ginny's shoulders slumped and she allowed herself to be pulled into the seat beside Dean.
Harry was outraged.
" Harry ."
Harry turned his glare to Hermione, causing her to flinch.
"Harry," she repeated softly, "you need to calm down."
Harry furrowed his eyebrows together in confusion. She nodded towards his hands. Harry glanced down. His right fist had squished his toast to crumbs while his left hand grasped his glass of pumpkin juice, which was now boiling furiously. Harry set the glass down in shock.
"Blimey, Harry. What's got you in such a state?" Ron asked, looking warily at the bubbling pumpkin juice.
Harry scowled and dropped the toast crumbs on his plate. "I didn't sleep well," he responded.
Hermione sighed. "Maybe you should take a break from all of your extra work, Harry."
Harry raked his fingers through his hair. "No. The attack in Hogsmeade proves how much we all need to be prepared. I won't quit now."
Hermione pursed her lips but wisely refrained from saying anything else, for which Harry was glad. He didn't know if he could restrain from hexing her in his current state.
"What's going on with Ginny?" Ron asked, a hint of irritation in his voice.
Harry flinched at Ron's question. "Sorry?" Harry asked, wishing his voice hadn't come out as a squeak.
Ron frowned and waved his hand in Ginny's direction. "Ginny. I don't think I saw her all day yesterday, and this morning she's not even sitting with us. I think she's taken the same broody potion as you, Harry."
Harry scowled.
Hermione sighed. "Can't she spend time with her boyfriend without you two raising your hackles over it?"
Ron snorted. "Stupid prat doesn't even take her to Hogsmeade and now she's spending all her time with him? She deserves better than that worthless git."
Harry cheered silently.
"You can't choose your sister's boyfriends, Ron," Hermione chastised.
"But she could do so much better," Ron complained. "Harry's single again; why doesn't she go out with him?"
Harry stared down at his plate fighting the urge to slam his fist on the table and agree wholeheartedly with Ron. Harry knew Ron was trying to prove a point and meant nothing by his comment, but Harry really wished he could ask that same question.
"Well, that's obvious," Hermione stated. Harry raised his eyes to look at her. She turned her gaze from Ron and looked at Harry. He thought he saw a hint of a smile in her eyes. "First of all, she already has a boyfriend, Ron, whether you like it or not. Second, Harry hasn't asked her to go out with him."
Harry's face burned. The look in Hermione's eyes was making him truly uncomfortable.
"Hmm," Ron responded. "I reckon Ginny's not Harry's type either, so it's not likely to happen anyway."
Harry frowned at Ron. "What do you mean she's not my type?"
Harry could have kicked himself. Not only did his voice come out in a high-pitched whine, but he couldn't be anymore transparent. Why didn't he just stand up on the table, dance a jig, and announce to the entire school that he fancied Ginny Weasley?
Ron shrugged. "You go for the exotic types. First Cho, then Parvati. Ginny's nothing like them."
No, she isn't.
"Besides," Ron continued, "Harry could have any girl in the school. I doubt he'd choose my baby sister."
Harry shifted uncomfortably; Ginny was the only girl in the school he'd choose. Harry snorted thinking how much easier it would be if he could just point and choose.
"Who would you choose, Harry?"
Harry snapped his head toward Hermione. "What?"
"Who would you choose? If you could have any girl, who would it be?" Hermione asked, a smirk playing on her lips.
Harry shrugged, trying to avoid Hermione's eyes. "Don't know."
Hermione raised an eyebrow disbelievingly.
Harry frowned at her and returned to staring at his plate. Hermione was really grating his nerves this morning.
The sound of hundreds of wings filled the Great Hall. Students stared up into the stormy ceiling as their owls made deliveries. A brown barn owl landed in front of Hermione delivering the Daily Prophet. Hermione slipped her coins into the owl's leather pouch and watched the bird take off in flight. She turned to the newspaper and scanned the front page, gasping immediately.
"What?" Ron and Harry asked, leaning towards her to see the paper.
Hermione's hand covered her mouth as she held the newspaper for Harry to read the headline:
Attack in Hogsmeade: Fodder for Potter
Blinking back at Harry was a picture of himself, taken during the Triwizard Tournament in fourth year.
Harry felt nauseous. A slow buzz began to gain momentum in the Great Hall. Harry scanned the room, watching as students huddled together to read their copies of the Daily Prophet. His stomach clenched and his throat tightened.
"Read it, Hermione," Harry choked out.
Hermione glanced worriedly around her, and then recited:
Late Saturday afternoon the small wizarding village of Hogsmeade was attacked by a group of Death Eaters. The attack coincided with a visit by Hogwarts students into the small village. An unconfirmed report states that several students were taken during the attack, and many more injured. Several businesses were vandalized, and worst of all, fear has been struck into the very hearts of our world. A glaring absence was noted on this dark Saturday; Harry Potter was not among the students visiting Hogsmeade. A coincidence? Perhaps not.
Harry Potter, known by many as The-Boy-Who-Lived, has a long history with Death Eaters and You-Know-Who. Once known to tell fantastical stories of battle and triumph against Death Eaters and even You-Know-Who, Harry Potter has since faded from our front pages. Rumours indicated that the Potter boy was involved with the affair concerning He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named in June of this year in the Ministry of Magic. However, the Ministry continues to be less than forthcoming with their information regarding this incident. One must question, what are they hiding?
Could it be that the Potter boy has allied himself with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named? Will the boy we believed to be our saviour bring forth our damnation? Did he orchestrate the Ministry infiltration and the attack in Hogsmeade? It seems the Potter boy's lines may have crossed too many times with the Dark Lord's for us to continue to overlook it. Perhaps it is time for the Ministry to remove their rose-coloured glasses and see the Potter boy for who he really is: the Dark Lord's right-hand man.
Harry stared at Hermione in disbelief. "Tell me that you just made that up," Harry said, his voice strained.
Hermione shook her head, her eyes wide with horror.
"Who wrote that?" Harry spat, grabbing the paper from Hermione's hand.
"There's no byline," Hermione stated numbly.
Ron grabbed the paper from Harry's hands. "Barking mad. Who's going to believe this? It's the stupidest thing I've ever heard!"
Harry swallowed hard as he stared blankly at the table. He felt like laughing. He felt like laughing hysterically. In fact, he probably would have laughed if he didn't feel like crying.
"This is slander," Hermione stated. "They can't get away with this, Harry. There are laws against writing such ludicrous, unfounded, unbelievable... lies."
"It's bollocks," Ron stated, shaking his head angrily.
Hermione nodded. "They'll have to print a retraction. Such defamatory comments have to be taken seriously. They've disparaged you with absolutely no grounds for their statements. We'll see to it that they pay for this, Harry."
Harry rubbed his forehead. "They've got away with it before. Not this bad, but the damage is already done. Everyone will have read it. Everyone will think that I'm … I'm …" Harry squeezed his eyes against the nausea rising in his stomach.
The buzzing in the Great Hall had risen to an all-time high. A headache reminiscent of his days learning Occlumency set in on Harry. He looked across the table at Ron and Hermione, hopeful that they could say something, anything, to rebuke his statement. They stared at him helplessly.
Parvati sat on the cold dirt floor, darkness surrounding her. Time was an elusive thing that had escaped her consciousness long ago. She had no idea if it had been hours or days since she had spent the afternoon in Hogsmeade. She had given up trying to make sense of it all long ago.
She balanced on the edge of sanity; a tightrope on which she carefully tread. Her mind tortured her with thoughts of freedom, while the realistic part of her came to terms with the fact that she was not likely to ever experience freedom again. She had fallen into fits of hysterical laughter, as well as moments of frantic sobbing. For the most part, however, she was silent.
She had come to realize where she was; well, not specifically where, but who it was that was holding her captive. This was the source of both her laughter and her tears; the absurdity and the terror of it. What on earth did He want with her?
Slitted red eyes mocked her in the darkness. The mental attacks left her feeling violated, bereft, and ill. She knew He had perused her memories of her time with Harry. If she hadn't been so terrified, she would have been deeply embarrassed and highly affronted. They were personal memories, many that she had not even shared with Lavender. Who did He think He was, forcing her most private memories from her mind?
Oh. Right. He was Voldemort.
Parvati always shivered whenever she allowed the name to cross her mind.
Parvati spent much of her time wrestling with her thoughts. Fragments of memories swam through her mind, parts of a conversation she had overheard: a woman by the name of Erena, a Seer, and a sacrifice. Parvati shuddered. She was the sacrifice. But what purpose would her sacrifice serve?
As she sifted through all of her memories of Harry, there was not anything she could think of that You-Know-Who would find of any interest. She was a silly schoolgirl with a crush on the famous boy wizard. Much to her suffering ego, Harry had never divulged any of his secrets to her. And even harder on her broken heart, she knew that Harry had not cared for her to the point that her kidnapping would cause Harry bone-crushing grief. No. She was not the girl Harry loved. That she knew. Sure, Harry would worry about her, but no more than he would for Seamus or Lavender or any of the other students in their year, save for Ron and Hermione, of course. But she really was not the ideal target to urge Harry into doing something rash. So why was she taken?
The grumbling of her stomach reminded Parvati that her silent visitor would be coming soon. The stranger had become her only source of hope. They had never shared words. He would slip in quietly and quickly, leaving a small bowl of food and a pitcher of water. He came twice a day and Parvati wondered whether he had been ordered to be the one to keep her alive, or if he was doing it on the sly. Parvati did not want to think of what a single Death Eater could do to her in her weakened and unarmed state. But this Death Eater seemed different; not that she had met many Death Eaters. Fear did not grip her body when he entered her dark room, even though he appeared alarmingly tall against the bright light filtering into the room from behind him. He did not wear a mask during his visits, which also intrigued her, though he did wear the long cloak of You-Know-Who's servants. He always made sure to keep his face in the shadows, the light reflecting off his smooth, bald head, and glinting off his single hoop earring.
Parvati positioned herself near the door. Perhaps today would be the day that he spoke to her.
It had seemed unlikely at breakfast that morning that the day could get any worse for Harry, but as Harry was the king of unlikely happenings, the day became progressively worse.
Harry had expected the whispers from fellow students. He had expected the glares from those who believed the ridiculous drivel spouted in the Daily Prophet. He had expected the sneers and smirks from Slytherins led by Malfoy, who alone seemed to appreciate how farfetched the claim was that Harry was in league with Voldemort.
He had not expected his own housemates to turn on him. He had not expected Ginny to leave the Great Hall without a backwards glance. He had not expected his first lesson to end with Madam Sprout shrinking back in fear as Harry tried to hand her his completed assignment on the healing properties of Fuchsia-fanged ferns. Harry dropped the parchment on her desk and left the greenhouse feeling lower than he ever had in his life.
Defense Against the Dark Arts was no better. While Professor Pandoran hadn't shrank away from him in fear or disgust, she did use him as a guinea pig to demonstrate a new disarming spell. After Harry had been hit with the spell several times, Pandoran had instructed Harry to use a shield to block her next attempt. Harry didn't know if he was simply tired of being knocked off his feet, or whether his frustration of his current situation had been too much, but his shield had been a tad excessive. Pandoran had warned him in their private training sessions that it would be wise for Harry to keep his defensive progress unknown to others. He had become incredibly powerful, but had agreed to keep his growing power under wraps, even from his friends. However, with one simple shield charm, Harry demonstrated to his classmates that with a lazy flick of his wrist and a silent incantation, he could create a shield charm so powerful that his assailant, or in this case, his Professor, was sent flying clear across the room as her own spell reflected on her with impressive force. Professor Pandoran fractured her wrist as a result of her shield-induced flight. The students filed out of the classroom, staring at Harry in horror. Pandoran had suggested to Harry, as he walked her to the hospital wing, that they cancel his training session that night.
During Transfiguration, Harry stared morosely at the empty chair beside him, pushing aside his thoughts of poor Professor Pandoran and allowing them to drift to Parvati. Where was she? Was she all right? Was she alive? The empty chair mocked Harry, heightening his loneliness, frustration, and anger. He did not take in a word of Professor McGonagall's lecture. He doodled on the parchment spread before him, not noticing when the students around him began to leave their desks.
"Harry?"
Harry rose his eyes from the intricate lines he had been tracing on his page to meet Hermione's concerned stare.
"Huh?" Harry replied.
"Harry, our lesson is over," Hermione said quietly.
Harry stared at her. She was nibbling her lip worriedly. She seemed beside herself, not knowing how to fix this particular problem. He glanced to the towering figure beside her and met his best mate's worried gaze.
Harry sighed and rose from his stool, clearing the items on his desk into his bag.
"I'm not up for lunch," Harry mumbled dejectedly. "I think I'll just go to the dormitory."
Hermione and Ron exchanged helpless glances.
"You need to eat, Harry," Hermione urged. "You hardly had a bite at breakfast."
Harry shook his head. "I'm not hungry."
Ron put his hand on Harry's shoulder and gripped it, hard. "You're not going to do this, Harry. I won't let you."
Harry stared at Ron in surprise. "Sorry?"
Ron steered Harry down the corridor in the direction of the Great Hall. "You're not going to go to the dormitory and brood. You're not going to make yourself sick over something out of your control. You're not going to push us away."
Harry rolled his eyes. "I wasn't going to. I'm just not hungry."
"Then don't eat," Ron replied. "But you're still coming with us."
Harry was torn between being irritated and being touched by Ron's concern. He turned and looked his mate in the eye. Determined blue eyes blazed into Harry. He sighed. "Thanks, mate."
Ron grinned and slapped Harry on the back. "Anytime."
Hermione threw her arms around both boys before either knew what was happening. She pulled away with a teary grin. "Let's go."
Ron and Harry exchanged amused grins and followed Hermione to the Great Hall. Harry knew that no matter what happened, he would always have Ron and Hermione.
Parvati's ears perked up as the sound of feet shuffling towards her grew louder. Her stomach grumbled in anticipation. It had seemed as though it had been longer than usual since her silent visitor had brought her rations. Her throat was incredibly dry and her lips were chapped and cracked. If she had to, she would even forego the food just to get some water. She was feeling incredibly weak and was slipping out of consciousness more often then she'd like to admit. She raised her trembling fingers and absently smoothed her fraying plait.
The door burst open, breaking the lock to pieces. Parvati gasped in shock. She squinted against the bright light and felt her stomach sink as the realization that the hulking man entering her prison was not her silent visitor. No. This man was much shorter and nearly twice as thick. And he was not alone.
Parvati pressed herself against the wall, fear gripping her insides. The second man stood in the doorway, blocking much of the light from entering the small cell. He was tall, but not as tall as her visitor. In the dim light, Parvati could see that both men were wearing Death Eater masks, making themselves anonymous to her, and possibly, to each other.
"Get over here!" the first Death Eater snarled, grabbing Parvati by her elbow and jerking her towards him.
Parvati held her breath as he leaned toward her, peering into her face.
"So, pretty," he slurred, and Parvati nearly choked on the smell of Firewhiskey oozing from him.
He raised his other hand to her cheek, tracing his finger along her cheek. Parvati jerked her head away, fighting the urge to vomit. Her movement was rewarded with a backhand across her face. Cheek burning, Parvati raised her chin in defiance and glared into the mask before her.
"We're not to harm her," the second Death Eater said, though there was little conviction to his voice.
The squat Death Eater snorted and shoved Parvati towards the door. "You're not worth my master's protection, but I will abide by his wishes."
Parvati stumbled through the door as the second Death Eater moved into the dim corridor. She was being protected? This revelation did not give Parvati comfort; quite the contrary. If she was being protected, that meant that He still wanted something from her. Fear tightened its icy grip on her.
She was led along the same path as her last venture out of her prison, down the damp, dimly lit corridor and up the rickety staircase leading to a doorway. This time, however, the doorway was not flanked with Dementors. Parvati felt an icy chill, nonetheless. Beyond that door was the sitting room where He had attacked her. Was she being brought back for another assault? What more could he take from her that he hadn't taken already? Parvati shuddered at the thought.
She followed the taller of her two escorts up the staircase, while the other followed her, shoving her occasionally in amusement. She silently prayed that if she were going to be killed, it would be quick and painless. She knew she was not scared of death, but she was scared of Him.
She was led into the sitting room where she had first seen the slits that held red eyes. This time, however, a small group of Death Eaters stood in a small circle, and He was nowhere to be seen. Apparently, the orders had already been given. Their conversation came to an abrupt stop as she entered the room and all masked faces turned to face her. Parvati stood before them, her heart pounding in her chest. Why were there so many of them? What were they going to do to her? Parvati took a deep breath and steeled herself. She would not let them make a fool of her; she may be defenseless, but she still had her dignity.
"It's time."
Parvati watched as all but two of the Death Eaters encircling her Disapparated. The two masked figures studied her silently. Parvati stood still, willing her fear not to show. She could tell by their builds that neither of her companions were her silent visitor. She wondered if he had been in the group that Disapparated. If he was part of the plan, maybe there was still hope. Parvati realized she had no reason to put her trust in her visitor; for all she knew, he was simply following orders. But he did not try to intimidate her like the others; he did not take advantage of the situation to demonstrate how much power he had over her. Instead, his presence was always calming, and for Parvati, that was all she had.
Several minutes passed with neither Parvati nor the Death Eaters moving. Even though she could not see their faces, Parvati could feel their cold, hard stares. She held her chin up proudly with her hands clasped behind her back. Her stomach continued to rumble loudly, almost seeming to echo in the silence of the room. Her mouth was still incredibly dry, and she was almost desperate enough to ask for water. She refrained, however, knowing that if she were to utter a word she'd be hexed before the sound fell from her lips. So she stood silently, fighting the weakness and dizziness that was taking over her body.
The Death Eaters seemed to grow restless as the minutes passed. The taller of the two took to pacing in front of the fireplace. The shorter fidgeted by straightening his robes and polishing his wand with his sleeve. Parvati remained unmoving, not wanting to draw any attention to herself.
A flash of green sparks in the fireplace seemed to be what they were waiting for. The taller Death Eater pulled a rusted teakettle from the depths of his robe and held it toward Parvati.
"Take hold," he ordered.
Parvati knew that one way or another she would be traveling by that Portkey and any attempt to resist was futile. She stepped forward, her hand trembling as she wrapped her fingers around the spout. The shorter Death Eater placed a hand on the belly of the kettle.
"Three, two, one."
Vibrant colours and a gust of wind assaulted Parvati's senses. She squeezed her eyes shut, fighting the increasing nausea and dizziness. She tried to push away the terror building inside her; the unknown was too much. She didn't know where they were going, nor what purpose she would serve. His words echoed in her mind: 'suitable sacrifice'. Was she being led to her death? Would they torture her? Would they … Parvati stopped herself, hoping that her mind was imagining things much worse than what reality would bring.
Parvati and her fellow travelers landed with a resounding crash in a dark, musty room. The Death Eaters righted themselves quickly and lit their wands, revealing what seemed to be a storage room. Boxes of different shapes and sizes lined the walls from floor to ceiling. They were alone in this cramped room, but muffled voices could be heard filtering through the doorway at the far end of the room. Parvati strained to make out what they were saying, but it was of no use. She remained slumped against the wall of boxes, under the careful watch of her masked companions.
The muffled voices stopped. Parvati swore she heard a distant tinkling of bells, like those often heard above shop doors in Hogsmeade or Diagon Alley. Her suspicions were quickly confirmed as the storage room door was pushed open. Parvati's heart jumped into her throat as a slight witch with frizzy blonde hair stepped into the back room. Hope swelled inside Parvati as she recognized the shop owner of Navigating Nostradamus. They had shared such a lovely conversation, surely once she recognized Parvati, the kind witch would do anything she could to help Parvati. She pushed herself to her feet, a hopeful smile twitching the corners of her mouth.
"Erena," greeted the taller Death Eater.
Parvati's eyes darted to him.
The blonde witch nodded in greeting. "They're waiting for you downstairs."
No! No! No! Parvati shook her head as tears welled in her eyes. The hope inside her shriveled to despair. Erena. Parvati remembered Him saying that name. Parvati felt sick as she realized this witch had been part of the plan all along. She had befriended Parvati, setting the trap for her kidnapping. But why?
Parvati stared hopelessly at Erena who was avoiding looking in Parvati's direction. The Death Eaters grabbed Parvati's arms and steered her to a trapdoor she had not noticed before. As the shorter Death Eater stooped to raise the door, Parvati glanced one last time at Erena, a final flare of hope igniting within her. She nearly gasped as she stared into Erena's eyes; they were dark and empty. Erena seemed to be caught in a void, unknowing and unfeeling. The blank look in the older woman's eyes sent a chill through Parvati. They held each other's gaze for several seconds before Erena turned on her heel and disappeared through the storage room door. Parvati swallowed hard. She had no one. She was alone. Any possibility of a future lay in the room below. Fear swelled within her as she began the descent to her fate.
A/N2: I really struggled with this last section. Please let me know what you think by clicking on that lovely review button and leaving a word or two.