The Remembrance
The madness of darkness was wrapping around Azkaban Island like sharp claws. While life hid the real world beyond the memory that was hard to remember, thanks to the immense darkness of the sea, the island surrounded by dark clouds was always hissing as if it was the harbinger of the storm. Unfortunately, while the thunder sounds that whistling beyond the reality and whispering into the unconscious ears are very frightening, they were far from being the most scary image of Azkaban.
The forgotten residents of Azkaban Prison had already passed the age when the storm frightened innocent minds. Pink dreams of childhood were far from rusty prison bars.
Traces of blood that have remained beyond centuries, dried or yet wet the cold hard floor yesterday; final scraps of consciousness engraved on the walls with a sharp stone or dirty nails; smell of urine in the muffled air; All this accompanied prisoners who were sleeping with their eyes open.
The Azkaban Prison, which rises on the island with all its might, was very different from other less terrible examples. With the help of the Dementors, which witches and wizards who comfortably sleep in their warm beds at night were afraid to even remember them, the The prison was reintroducing the darkest, secret and dirty nightmares of the human mind to murderous prisoners at any time... again and again...
As it turns out, the Dementors, who secured the magic world, skillfully performed the most brilliant torture method with their skeleton fingers that they stretched through their dark cloak.
Unfortunately, they were often not allowed to enjoy the delicious taste of the human soul, but they had to make do with the unhappy memories that carry the soul crumbs. What a pity…
Inmates, who did not feel anything in the name of peace, could not be sure about something after months, years and even a life sentence with fear and unhappiness. They could not decide if the predatory screams that broke from the maddened straits, leaked from the bars, or the stifling silence they trembled among their nightmares was more maddening.
Those who pull their knees on their skinny bellies and cry; those who piss himself with screams; or those who laugh with chilling laughter that broke their minds; Inmates of all colors were torn between the crucial kiss of the dementor and the endless nightmares of the soul suckers.
Which was less scary? Is it death that opens the door to obscurity and leaves only empty shells behind? Or are the nightmares that repeat the most painful, unimpressed, most hopeless memories?
The simplicity of these unanswered questions was still occupying unconscious minds that night.
Giggling amongst her usual madness, the scattered-haired witch was muttering creepy rhymes.
Die, spidey, die,
Shut your little eye:
When you wake,
Find a cake,
Die, spidey, die.
The black spider… The hairy spider… Bella will kill you while you watch her…
After looking at the tiny spider with a great interest for a few seconds, she closed his palms. The thought that death was in the palm of her hand reminded the witch her wand. The beautiful wand which caused life to fade away from many eyes.
How many spiders was this witch killed?
Bellatrix Lestrange was one of the meals where Dementors were bored of. The witch, whose consciousness was not in place for a long time, did not have enough nightmares to provide delicious soul crumbs and to feed enough vitamins to the Dementors.
Recalling her most creative, most enjoyable murders, she often did nothing but laugh in pleasure.
The Dementors therefore switched to other, more fresh prisoners.
Still, Bella's laughters, echoing on the walls, were not wiped from the prisoners' ears for a long time.
While Bella was crushing the spider's dead body in her palms, she was looking with curious eyes at blood and tiny spider particles that smeared her fingers.
With her dirty face and faint eyes, she was more like a corpse than a living witch. Like other dear prisoners of Azkaban…
When Bella felt sudden pain in her arm, her faint eyes shone for a moment.
She had a quick conclusion for a mad woman..
The Dark Lord is back!
The long wait was over. Bella had never lost hope. As a loyal servant of her master, she did not hesitate to shout out the magnificence of her Lord against the worthless.
The Dark Lord is back!
Bella has already forgotten the dead spider in her hand and excitedly pulled up her dirty rotten robes. The Death Eater tattoo, which was visible in the moonlight leaking from the bars, was black.
There it is!
The dark mark curled across her skin with its pitch-black glory. As the snake slithered in her thin body, while crawling with pleasure, Bella adoringly caressed the sign.
The Dark Lord is back!
She knew that her master would return. Lord Voldemort would soon come to rescue his loyal servants. And Bella would kiss her Master's robe. Bella would once again present her wand to her Master. Bella would take the worthless lives of mudbloods once again for his Lord.
Bella chuckled like a little girl, stroked her tattoo.
She dreamed of the lives she would take and started laughing.
Bellatrix Lestrange's lame laughter swiftly surrounded the Azkaban Prison.
Curled up two dungeons away,
A skinny dog curled up two dungeons trembled with the laughter of his cousin.
HARRYTOMHARRYTOMHARRYTOMHARRYTOM
The potion master collapsed on the ground with the fear stuck in his chest the moment he felt a sharp pain in his arm. His face was white. Cold sweat accumulated on his forehead. As his breathing accelerated, he put his hand on his beating heart. He squeezed his robe until blood was drawn from his fingers and pulled a hoarse groan from his throat. How pathetic ... Hogwarts' hormanal students, if they saw the current state of the frightened and emotional Severus Snape, first would not believe their eyes, then laugh for weeks.
How pathetic that a brief pain that did not last ten seconds would bring such a deadly truth from the past in a simple man's life.
After an eight-year long, careless period, the Death Eater remembers with a ten-second pain that he was not a simple professor, indeed his poor life was dependent on a sentence of the mighty Dark Lord.
How could he have been so stupid ?! How had he forgotten his past, his terrible identity, nothing more than a servant, a slave ?! How?!
He was immersed in the illusions of a blind man. Nonsense!
He knew the day was coming ! He wasn't stupid! Believing in the death of the Dark Lord was the short dream of children and simple men.
He knew that today would come. He knew that the Dark Lord would return. A blind fool, Albus Dumbledore was able to predict this fact, if nothing else.
But Severus had spent the last eight years in a sweet sleep, playing with potions, walking with pride, cutting points from arrogant students. What did he think, considering himself to be a free man even though he knew he was going to wake up ?!
Beautiful Lily would have laughed if she saw this state of him, would have told him to be more realistic.
Lily ...
He didn't have a single day without thinking of her.
The sweet, red-haired woman who touched his soul with her vibrant emerald eyes occupied every part of his heart.
Whereas forgetting the Dark lord, who possessed his soul, body and will, for eight years was the hopeless dream of a stupid man.
The potion master took a deep breath ... One more ... Another one ... He breathed and exhaled... Occluded ...
Her eyes closed and opened again. He took his hand based on the cold floor and wiped the cold sweat on his forehead with his robe. He took his numb hand slowly from his chest, then staggered and stood up.
The Dark Lord had once again proved his terrible might and was clad in flesh earlier than thought.
Severus knew what he had to do. He knew that his worthless life was only tied to a mind game. Was he ready? Damn it! No way.
But eight years ago, on that dark night of Samhain, in that holy night when the souls roamed the mortal world, when the soul of the beloved Lily migrated to the other realm with the wand of the Dark Lord, he took an oath.
He vowed to protect the son of his bloody enemy, the one who stole the woman he loved, the damn wizard who tortured him halfway through his life.
He knew what he had to do.
He had to protect Harry Potter at all costs.
As a result of that irreversible mistake he made when he conveyed the prophecy, the fact that he took the life of his beloved woman had been poisoning his mind like acromantulas for years. The guilt of the terrible mistake knotted his throat, hurting his already cursed soul.
He knew very well what to do.
Between the two-powerful master, he had to play a dangerous game.
The potion master went to the door after taking another deep breath.
He held the door handle for a moment and loosened his hand. He pulled up the right side of his robe and looked at his arm which stamped with a pitch black tattoo. The snake was whirling in hiss flesh, whispering its terribly silent threats.
Ah! How much would he want to tear off this damn arm!
But nothing was that simple.
He angrily straightened the robe back. He did not want to see the cruel stamp on his flesh.
That tattoo reminded the Death Eater who his owner was.
He hid his unnecessary thoughts behind the steel mask of Slytherin, quickly opened the door and started walking through the cold corridors of the dungeons.
He felt that his soul was cold rather than his body.
The dark days had finally come.
HARRYTOMHARRYTOMHARRYTOMHARRYTOM
In the Malfoy Mansion that evening, Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy were sitting in a luxurious sofa, accompanied by the portrait of the beloved father Abraxas Malfoy.
Narcissa and Lucius discuss the daily private lessons and magical development of their only son,the most pure and noble boy, Draco, after eating as they did every evening. Then Draco was sent to his room accompanied by a trained elf. Before going to sleep, he continued his book The Purest Pureblood Families of the History of Magic, which his father had chosen specially for that week, for half an hour. The Elf took the book from him and placed it on the table. He covered the noble boy. He corrected the boy's pillow. The Elf took the boy's long hair aside, taking care not to mess it. He turned off the lights and disappeared without making a sound.
Then Lucius hold his arm to his wife and they went to the private hall. The handsome portrait of Abraxas Malfoy started to look at his son and wife high in front of the wide seat as usual and listen to the latest events of the magic world.
Lucius politely conveyed to his wife the stupidity of the new Minister of Magic and how open he was to manipulations. With a high donation to the Magic Games and Sports Department, he managed to reject the Control of Dark Objects Act. It was perfect, albeit pathetic, that the Minister of Magic was so simple and stingy. Because the Malfoy family was famous for its three beautiful features. Their purity, their pale white-blond hair and their everlasting gold… Of course, external sources would also say that they were arrogant, they were spoiled dark wizards who thought they could buy everything with money. How rude!
The two elves offered them luxurious English Tea in embroidered silver cups.
Narcissa calmly listened to her husband from where she sat gracefully. After nodding in a few places, he talked about how much gold Lady Parkinson gave out at the donation meeting for the new department to be opened at St Mungos Hospital, Narcissa talked about how little gold she spilled. Her robe was the fashion of last month, and her hair was pretty sloppy. Mrs. Malfoy said she would not like preparing a marriage contract for her only son with a less noble and less wealthy family.
After listening to his wife's great trouble, Lucius reached out and caressed her hand and said that he would soon stop by Gringotts and deal with the issue. The Goblins could show the financial status of the Parkinsons to Lord Malfoy with enough gold. Hearing this, Narcissa smiled. His husband knew how to comfort her as usual.
As you can see, it was a quiet, beautiful evening.
Lord Malfoy took the glass that the elf replenished, while listening to his wife's sweet speech.
At that moment!
Lucius Malfoy felt a sharp pain in his arm.
The glass fell from his hand and shattered.
Crank!
Narcissa knew the truth very well, even though she wanted to deny it, wanted to think that the stupid elves added something to the tea and hurt her husband. She remembered that stunning truth she should be proud of but was secretly pleased when it was erased from her husband's arm in the past eight years. The Pitch black truth that stamped on her husband's arm…
- "Cissa… Cissa… Dark Lord -"
If Lucius Malfoy saw himself at that moment, he could see that he was white and trembling. While one hand was holding his tattooed arm, he would also notice that he was holding his leg tightly with the other one and shaking. He would be embarrassed to see that all he had to do was grasp his meaningless stutter at that vital moment when he should be proud, hugging his wife and celebrating with joy.
While Lucius stood in shock, he suddenly startled by the sound of his father, staring where he froze.
- "Behave yourself, Lucius. Act like a Malfoy! "
Lucius swallowed. He unnecessarily smoothed his elegant robes with his hands. Narcissa joined her shaking hands on her lap and tried to smile at her husband.
Abraxas Malfoy ordered from the portrait with a sharp voice.
- "You know what this means, boy. First, the Dark Lord will honor his loyal followers of the House of Malfoy. Narcissa, prepare our Lord's room. Lucius, get the Ministry's Files for the past eight years. "
Lord Malfoy stood up with a pale face. He hid all his feelings behind the Slytherin Mask and obeyed quietly. He would not be shaming himself in the face of his dead father's portrait. Responding to his wife's anxious hidden eyes with smiling lips. He headed to his Office.
Then he closed the door. Lord Malfoy mask has fallen. Lucius collapsed on the ground with a weakness that he would not show even to his wife.
The Dark Lord would mercilessly ask for the account of the last eight years he was lost and was not reached.
Lucius Malfoy, Death Eater, the right hand of the Dark Lord, was the one to give the most painful explaining.
An hour or a few seconds later, a loud sound resonated in the manor. This was an indication that the Dark Lord was coming to the Manor.
Abraxas Malfoy, one of the first Death Eaters, added his Master to the power stones of the ancient Malfoy Estate to prove his loyalty to the Dark Lord. He placed his Master at a higher level than the current Lord of the manor. The Dark Lord could enter the Malfoy land and the Mansion at any time. While this fact caused Abraxas to boast among the Death Eaters for years, Lucius Malfoy remembered that there was nowhere to hide. Where could he escape with his wife and child while his own house was at the service of the Dark Lord! Foolishess!
Narcissa reopened the head room of the house that had been closed for the past eight years. The loud sound was heard as the houseelves rushed and ready the room. Everyone knew very well what this meant.
The elves were shaking where they stood. Narcissa took a deep breath and became Lady Malfoy and scolded her elves with a few harsh words. As she turned to the door, she stopped Daisy, her oldest and most trusted elf. She whispered quietly.
- "Lock and silence Draco's room. I want you to wait with him all night. If there is no news from us until morning... Take Draco and go to the summerhouse in France and hide. Is that clear? "
Her old house-elf nodded her head with a fearful but understanding expression. The continuation of the Malfoy lineage was entrusted to him.
Two Death eaters, Mr and Mrs. Malfoy, swiftly passed into the hall. As the big door opened slowly, the death eaters fell to the ground and lowered their gaze.
Their master was finally back!
The gold-embroidered gates of Malfoy Mansion were opened wide.
The Dark Lord's hand was on the shoulder of a little blond boy, proceeding as if he owned the luxury marbles under his feet.
Lucius sneaked up, dared to take a look at his Master. The Dark Lord stood before them with his usual charismatic, noble and handsome elegance and magnificent might. This image of his masters reminded him of his youthful passion, his respectful admiration for his Lord. He once again understood why he was a death eater. This mighty man, who spread power from his body, was able to make everyone bend the knee he encountered easily with grace and such terrible cruelty.
However, there was an incomprehensible point in this picture. Who was this boy honored with the touch of the Dark Lord? And at this young age, how did this magical power spread from his body that almost corresponded to the Dark Lord. Compared to Lord Voldemort's pitch black, addictive aura, a gray sweet aura fluctuated from the boy.
Lucius was sure that the boy was not aware of his strength. He had a confused expression on his face, but he was not afraid.
How would he not be afraid of standing beside The Darkest Lord of all time?
Lucius thought the boy did not know his Master. It could be understood that the Dark Lord chose the boy because of his power. But why?
- "Luciusss, Narcisssa… How nice to see you again…"
Death eaters could hear the threat behind these sweet words. The Dark Lord was the harbinger of the most terrifying nightmares with his speech similar to hissing. They trembled with the chill of the future suffering.
- "Look at me!"
They quickly followed the order and looked at their Lord's ruby eyes. They knew very well the reason for the eye contact. The Dark Lord could read the truth from behind the calm looks. And now the weak minds of the Malfoy were completely vulnerable to him.
- "You forgot me, did you, Lucius? Secretly running the entire Ministry without that fool Minister of Magic realizing, who does not deserve to be called a wizard, must have satisfied you. You didn't need your Lord, did you, Lucius Malfoy? "
Lucius pleaded with a senseless effort as his whole body began to tremble.
- "No, my lord! Absolutely not! I searched you - "
The Dark Lord stopped his servant with his voice that did not rise but filled with threats.
- "Don't waste your breathe, Malfoy! Have you forgotten who gave you that power? Who glorified your house? Didn't you remember that your poor soul was ruled by the Dark Lord? Crucio! "
For the past eight years, Lord Malfoy, who was proudly standing in the world of magic, ruled the Minister with his insidious words, with a lot of money, Lucius began to shudder with screams. The pain that flowed through his body resembled sharp knives, stuck in his body in a row. Every spot in his body was burning with pain. In seconds, perhaps hours later, Lord Voldemort canceled the spell. He turned to Lady Malfoy.
Narcissa made no sound, except for a quiet whimper at her spouse's terrible screams. While in her youth, this scene could freeze her blood and could chill her soul, all that changed now was that she was to be able to hide her fear better. Unfortunately, the Dark Lord could pierce the toughest masks.
- "Ah… Dear Narcissa… The noble daughter of the Black house… Lady Malfoy… After years of luxury, you dared to forget your main purpose. While you were proud of your son, you forgot your Lord, who gave you the power to indulge your son. What would Orion think if he could see this arrogance from her dearest daughter? "
Narcissa was startled, as if slapped, with words reminding her, her own father. Lord Orion Black was a tough and very dark wizard from the first death eaters. He raised Narcissa with great care and if he saw how far she had fallen, he would kill his own and beloved daughter in order to prove his loyalty to his Lord.
- "You remembered, Narcissa Black. I think your father's justice would be appropriate."
While fear of death was besieging Narcissa, Lucius ignored his pain and jumped in front of Narcissa with the thought of losing his wife.
- "Sir - Please, My Lord! Please forgive - "
- "Be quiet, Malfoy! Crucio! "
As Lucius entered a new episode of pain, Narcissa could not stop herself this time and screamed for her husband. Immediately afterwards, she remembered that she was in front of the Dark Lord and closed her mouth with her hand.
She couldn't bear to look at her husband's shaken body any more. He looked at the boy, who had traces of a very vague smile on his lips, standing quietly next to the Dark Lord.
How could he be so calm in the face of this cruel scene?
Another vague move surprised Narcissa so much that she could not believe her eyes.
The Dark Lord put one hand on the boy's neck, gently caressing under his hair. Narcissa was gaping in front of this humane move that the Dark Lord made for the first time.
Among the foggy memories of her childhood, she never remembered that the Dark Lord had touched someone.
The Lord, who was always distant, always sacred, was too great to honor the death eaters with his touch. He was untouchable.
Unlike most lords, he would show his servants the end of his robe instead of making them kiss his ring.
So what made this child so valuable?
The Dark Lord was conscious of Narcissa's gaze. But he kept caressing. Only a peaceful smile, unchanged from the gaze of the death eater on the floor, appeared on the boy's face.
The Dark Lord finally stopped cursing Lucius and continued as if his word was never cut.
- "Yes, Narcissa, Orion Black would already give your dead body as a gift to me. But the Dark Lord is a forgiving Lord. He forgives his weak servants easily. He knows you're weak. Just a little reminder. To make you never forget again ... Crucio! "
Narcissa, Lady Malfoy, began to shudder with pain in screams. The terrible echo of the curse had captured all her cells. As tears wet her face, her nails hit hard marble and broke.
Lucius was unable to even move. He saw the painful state of his wife, but all he thought was that he would not lose his wife. After eight years of forgetfulness, after not investigating and disobeying him, the Crucio curse was considered simple compared to the power and cruelty of the Dark Lord. However, every organ in his body was shaken as if it denied this.
The Dark Lord was more merciful to Narcissa. He cut the curse faster. As if nothing had happened, he continued with a polite calmness.
- "Everyone makes mistakes. I know you're weak, Lucius, Narcissa. The important thing is my belief that you will prove your loyalty again. Are you still loyal to me, to the Dark Lord, to the dark magic? "
- "Yes, my lord. House Malfoy swore loyalty -
- "Sure, my lord. We will prove to you the loyalty of the Blacks -
Lucius and Narcissa drifted with the joy that their punishment was over, and relieved not to die, they kissed the robes of the Dark Lord.
The Dark Lord will quickly get bored of these pathetic situations of his servants, intervened.
- "Enough! Lucius I want everything about the Ministry, Dumbledore and his damned Order to be in front of me tomorrow. Narcissa, I expect you to prepare the next day in accordance with the prom to be held in honor of the return of the Dark Lord. Is that clear?"
- "Yes, my lord -
- "Yes sir-
- "Send the food to the room, Narcissa."
- "My Lord? Room for the child -? "
The Dark Lord passed by them without the need to answer. He moved towards the room, which was carefully prepared for him, with imposing steps like the Lord of the manor. The elegance in his steps was telling that he was sliding rather than walking with his long black robe.
He was taking self-confident steps, proving his incredible strength and his unquestionable immortality.
Two servants were still stunned behind him.
While his footsteps echoed in the Manor, there was a satisfied, sharp expression on his face.
Lord Voldemort was back.
This time, he had the only weapon of Dumbledore, the Boy Who Lived with him.