CHAPTER FIVE: Interrogation

In a dark, damp underground chamber, still on the aerial island, Harry assumed, Ron, Ginny (still unconscious), and himself were being held prisoner. The three of them were being kept in separate barred cells, though they were all within eyeshot of each other, as the prison chamber was circular, with cells all around, save for where a doorway led out of the prison to, hopefully, somewhere they had a hope of escape.

Ginny started to stir and moan with discomfort. Harry started. "Ginny! Are you all right?"

She slowly shook off the affects of the earlier blast, and stood up. "Yeah, I'll be fine. Where are we?"

Ron shrugged. "Prison of some kind. Either of you have any idea why we're still alive?" Drooping, he said slowly, "And what about Hermione? Either of you know what happened to her?"

Ginny shook her head. "Not a clue. I've been unconscious for a while, remember? What about you, Harry?"

"Me neither. These people seem like the types to kill on sight, not take prisoners. I have no- AAAAAGGGHHHHH!" Harry screamed in pain as an invisible clamp seemed to close around his mind. He couldn't hear Ron and Ginny screaming, he was in so much pain; the Cruciatus Curse was nothing compared to this.

After a time, the pain stopped, but Harry was still shaken from the after-effects. On his hands and knees, he looked up to see an old man standing in the center of the chamber. He looked somewhat familiar, like something out of a dream. Then the man spoke.

"So, now, Harry Potter, you save me the trouble of tracking you down by coming straight to me. I've just looked at the collective memories of you and your companions of recent events, but I am still not convinced!"

Harry had heard that voice before, but where, and when?

"How did your other companion escape! That trap you laid backfired somehow, didn't it! And you laid several others as well, didn't you! My men are searching for them as we speak, so you've failed! If you'll tell me how I can detect and disable them, I promise to make your deaths as quick and painless as possible!"

Then, suddenly, Harry remembered. "You… You should be dead! You are dead!" Ginny and Ron were looking at him weirdly. "You were that man, that groundskeeper, Frank Bryce! How are you still…" Harry trailed off, putting the pieces together. He nodded his head, understanding and fearful. "Wrath."

Wrath raised his arm and Harry flew through the air, through the bars of his cell, directly into the Sin's grasp. For an old man, he sure was strong; he was holding Harry in the air by the collar of his shirt. "Who told you?" Wrath asked quietly. "Who was it!" he hissed.

Harry did not flinch. "The Great Healer."

Wrath's face contorted with rage. As quickly as he had brought Harry to his hand, he threw him up against the wall in anger, as a child might throw a toy during a tantrum. "How could she! I was supposed to get the first blow in! I was supposed to send in my troops first, not the other way around!"

Ginny piped up, "Look, we don't exactly care for the Great Healer ourselves, but that's no reason to blow up an entire city of innocents!"

Wrath spun around and turned on her. "The world needs to be taught a lesson, girl! They need to understand that there are some of us who would rather see this entire world ended then see that Healer accomplish her goals. And Healing Hands aren't the only ones out there who I need to defeat! Oh no. I have other enemies, yes!"

Ron and Ginny both backed up a bit, frightened by the Sin's delusional speech. "Yes, there are those that would see me destroyed, but I'll get them first!" Pausing, he said quietly, "Maybe, it was one of them that took your friend away."

Ron yelled, "You know who has my wife, then! Tell me, now! Where is she!"

Wrath shrugged. "I don't know. They're good at hiding. They're very good. But no one is perfect! Sooner or later they will reveal themselves, even if we don't see them until they attack in force. They'll bring your wife, Ronald Weasley, and more than likely use her against all of us! But, my dear Ron, Ginny, and Harry, you must not falter! You must help me cleanse the world of its impurities, especially you, Harry!"

Harry, meanwhile, was still recovering from being slammed into the wall, but Wrath brought him to his grasp with another motion of his hand. "You have no idea how important you are, Potter," he said slowly.

Harry was indignant, despite his pain. "I have a fair idea."

Wrath chuckled with horrible mirth. "No, Harry Potter, I don't think you do. Now what do you say? Will you help me, or will you have to die prematurely?"

Harry suddenly had inkling. If he was as important as Wrath claimed he was, then he wasn't about to kill him anytime soon. "You nuke innocent thousands, promise more, and then expect us to help you! You're mad!"

Wrath frowned, and then dropped Harry, flinging him back through the bars and into his cell again with a flick of the wrist. Turning to Ginny and Ron, he said, "You two, talk some sense into him, would you? I'll even give you your wands back to force something out of him. Humans can be so creative at times, can't they?" And just like that, Ron and Ginny's wands appeared in their hands. Harry's did not.

Heading for the exit, Wrath said as he walked, "It's your choice, Harry Potter. Your own doom, or the doom of the world around you." He crossed the threshold of the chamber, and a door appeared behind him.

Ron and Ginny simulataneously cried, "Alohomora," aiming their wands at the bars of their cells. Nothing happened. Ginny swore. "Knew it couldn't have been that easy. Can you believe that guy! Asking us to help him blow up the world! You were right, Harry: he is mad!"

Harry stood up and looked at his wife concernedly. "He's mad, yes. But I don't think the world is his enemy. He was particularly angry at the Great Healer, remember? And what about those other 'enemies' of his? Do you think he's a paranoid delusional, or are there forces at work we can't see?"

Ron laughed out loud. "Harry, you dolt! There's always things we can't see! When have we ever been able to see straight!" Harry and Ginny could not help but chuckle at this bit of gallows humor.

"Too true, Ron," Harry said. "The question is, though, are they our friends, or our enemies?"

Ron sulked. "Yeah. And who in the world has their hands on Hermione?"