Black Blind Eyes.
Chapter 3: Fortress Azkaban.
"Azkaban."
"What, seriously? This is Azkaban? I thought it would be a bit... grimmer."
"Well since the dementors scarpered and the Ministry set up shop, it has changed quite a bit. Makes for a more pleasant working environment," replied Lupin, giving Harry a strange look.
"Thank Merlin too, I hated going to Azkaban when they still had the dementors around. Barbaric," Wormtail added bitterly, shaking his head.
Yet you still thought it was fine to send Sirius here Harry thought to himself, but didn't voice the opinion. This Wormtail wasn't like the other Wormtail. He had to remember that.
The three of them had been sitting around a table in the room for, Harry guessed, somewhere upwards of half an hour, bar a short period when a pretty young woman called Wormtail away to take a statement. Whatever that meant. They'd made idle conversation, but it hadn't taught him too much. Harry didn't want to let slip how little he actually knew of this place, whilst the older men evidently didn't want to give anything away either.
What little he'd picked up had been very interesting, he just hadn't picked up much. He didn't know exactly why he'd been taken to Azkaban, for example, although he had learned that Azkaban was very different on the other side of the 'portal'. Presumably this Azkaban was far less gloomy than the original; homely even, with the oak floorboards and panelled walls. Even during the short walk down the corridor from the apparition point the building was alive with raised voices and the smell of coffee.
When Wormtail had returned from giving his statement, he had brought two cups of soup with him. "From the cafeteria," he'd said before handing one to Lupin. Thankfully, and much to the werewolf's credit, he had slid his cup over to Harry. If Wormtail was different, at least Lupin seemed the same.
Harry blew on his soup cup before taking a sip. His stomach growled almost contentedly, he couldn't remember when he had last eaten. Must have been Hogwarts, before they confronted Umbridge. God that seemed like a lifetime ago.
Suddenly the handle of the door twisted and three people walked into the room wearing the deep red robes of the auror office. Harry recognised them all, but one of them only from photographs.
"Dad," he whispered to himself, so softly even Lupin didn't catch it. Harry knew he should have been prepared for it, Lupin and Wormtail kept going on and on about it, but until his father was standing before him in the flesh, Harry realised a large part of him had felt it was all some cruel joke. Sure his hair was greyer than in the pictures, and his face more scarred, his eyes haggard – but it was James Potter nonetheless. Harry's heart felt like it had leapt from his chest. This was his Dad.
James spoke, his voice strangely quiet, but to Harry it carried an unquestionable authority. "Remus, Peter, we won't need you here for this, your statement will be adequate information."
"We're going to get paid for this right? We've been staked out at Diagon for bleeding ages, at least that's what it felt like, and those goblins were getting quite restless," Peter said.
"You'll get your money but you might want to stay around for a while, I might have another job for you. And you missed Mattie's birthday Remus, I think your god-daughter might want to see you at least once this year," James added with a smile.
Harry watched as the two men nodded, shook hands with his father, spoke a few words between each other, and left the room leaving him alone with James and the two other aurors. Harry knew them well – Kingsley Shacklebolt and Nymphadora Tonks.
His father took out his wand, conjured a chair in the corner of the room, and wordlessly gestured at Shacklebolt and Tonks, who had already sat down opposite Harry.
Tonks, green-haired today, cleared her throat and began. "This interview is being recorded using an Auror-certified Quick-Quotes Quill, and the time is" – she checked her watch – "11 o'clock, July the 20th 1996. This interview is taking place in interrogation room three of Fortress Azkaban."
Now she looked up into Harry's eyes. "My name is Auror Tonks," and here James Potter coughed loudly making Tonks sigh and roll her eyes, "Auror Nymphadora Tonks. Also present are Auror Kingsley Shacklebolt and Director James Potter. For the purposes of this interrogation, we don't feel it necessary to submit the subject to Veritaserum or more extreme techniques. It 's important that you understand that if we think you are lying to us, withholding information from us, or otherwise hindering this interrogation, we will resort to such methods. Capisce?"
Harry saw his father's eyebrows narrow at this, but he said nothing.
"What do you mean by 'more extreme techniques'" Harry asked in reply, not sure that he'd like the answer.
Before Tonks could answer, Kingsley butted in. "Torture." Harry noted there was not a touch of emotion on his face. It worried him a lot more than he cared to admit.
"Well Lupin and Wormtail didn't believe me at all when I talked to them, so I'm worried you're not going to either. And I really don't fancy being tortured..." Harry trailed off, glad to be interrupted by his father.
"Wormtail?" James asked abruptly, causing the other occupants of the room to look at him strangely. "Sorry Auror Tonks, carry on," he said, but fixed Harry with a stare halfway between curiosity and fascination.
"Uh, sure boss. Can you give me your full name and date of birth please?"
Harry swallowed nervously. "See this is the bit they didn't seem to believe. My name's Harry James Potter and I was born on the 31st of July, 1980." Harry waited for it to sink in, but as opposed to howls of derision, he was instead met with slightly raised eyebrows.
"And do you go by any aliases?"
"Well I told this goblin I was Harry Dursley." Harry felt it was best if he made no mention of also being known as the Boy-Who-Lived. After all, apparently Neville was Boy-Who-Lived here, and it hadn't worked out so well for him.
"You've been in contact with the goblins?"
"Only one, he was called Griphook. Lupin and Wormtail had him tied up with me."
"And how much did you tell him?" growled Kingsley. Harry didn't think he liked this Kingsley much, but perhaps he'd always been this intimidating. It's just that back home they were on the same side.
Before he could reply James held up a hand. "We'll discuss that later. Get to the heart of the matter first Tonks, I do have other places to be." It seemed to Harry that there was a sort of good cop-bad cop situation going on, with Tonks the good and Kingsley the bad, with his father directing the two.
"Yes Director, sorry. Can you tell me what you were doing in Diagon Alley before you were apprehended by Bounty Wizards Lupin and Pettigrew?"
Bounty Wizards? Now that was strange. "Well I... there was this portal, the Veil, and I fell through it, and ended up in the Ministry of Magic. And then I walked into the Alley and then I guess Wormtail's told you the rest."
"A portal?" asked Kingsley after an awkward moment of silence. "You seriously expect us to believe that?"
"Is this where you're going to start torturing me? Because I swear it sounds as insane to me as it does to you. I honestly thought I'd died. Maybe I am." A thought struck Harry. "Are you judging me here? To see if I go to heaven or hell?"
Kingsley buried his face in his hands, but Tonks carried on. "I can assure you Mr, uh, Potter, you are very much alive. Now this portal, it was situated in the former Ministry of Magic building?"
"I guess so, but it's not former where I came from. It was in a big circular room in the Department of Mysteries, but on this side of the portal there was nothing. It was like I'd come out of thin air."
"So it's a one-way portal," Tonks clarified.
"Or with entrances in different locations," said James.
"Or a convenient explanation for the lack of evidence supporting his story," growled Kingsley, staring at Harry intently.
"You called this portal a 'Veil'," James stated, with purpose in his voice. "An odd turn of phrase wouldn't you agree?"
Harry nodded, unsure where he was going with this.
"But it's a turn of phrase I happen to like. And your name is Harry Potter. That's interesting too. And from what Peter's statement says it could get a lot more interesting."
Harry said nothing.
"Tell me Harry, and don't worry if this sounds a little strange, but are you a star?"
"I'm sorry," said Harry, completely confused. 'Little strange' my ass. What a bizarre question. "Do you mean like a celebrity?"
James had folded on leg over the other, resting his chin in the palm of his hand. It made Harry think of some sort of therapist, although he'd never been to see one himself. With all my issues, I probably should have, he thought.
"Well what does a star mean to you?" James said, breaking off Harry's train of thought.
"A big shiny thing up in the sky?"
His father closed his eyes for a moment, frustration evident on his face. Kingsley looked like he was bursting to say something, probably quite nasty, so Harry was glad when his father spoke again. "Which you are clearly not. But you brought up celebrity Harry, is there a reason you leapt to that definition first?""
"I suppose there might be." Harry was unsure of how much he should reveal. Sure these were his father and two Order members. But they weren't his father, or his Order members. In fact he didn't know if there even was an Order here. If this Wormtail was nice, well perhaps not nice but certainly less overtly evil, then the reverse could be true for these three.
And if Harry was honest with himself, his father was beginning to freak him out. He couldn't quite put his finger on it – the long scar across his face gave him a certain savage look; the authority held by his voice seemed to cow Tonks and Kingsley so effortlessly; and the odd line of questioning, about the Veil and stars was particularly unnerving. It seemed like his father knew a lot more about the situation then Harry, or anyone else he'd spoken to did.
"That's good. Very good. What does this celebrity involve?" said James.
Harry couldn't help but notice that Tonks and Kingsley had been conspicuously silent during their exchange, despite the strange turn the conversation had taken. He decided to keep his cards close to his chest. "I won the Tri-Wizard Tournament last year. I'm kind of a big deal."
Harry hadn't meant to sound so pompous, but then again it might help to make his story more believable. You would expect the Tri-Wizard Champion to have a slightly inflated ego.
James smiled. "Well you may be a Potter after all," he said before standing up and opening the door to the room. "Skade, would you come in?"
The woman who strode in was quite unlike any Harry had seen before. An expression of practiced boredom graced her face, a look that to Harry at least matched her snub nose and full pink lips to perfection. Her hair was silver, not blonde or grey or white, cascading over her shoulders, framing her neck and... chest. Her hips swayed as she sauntered across the room, causing both of Harry's brains to work overtime.
James offered her his seat, but she shook her head to stand at the side of the table. Harry's gazed moved slowly, embarrassingly slowly, up her body. She was clad in robes of the same silver as her hair, and when he met her steel grey eyes he could that there was something wrong. Her eyes were wrong.
"What are you?" Harry finally managed to squeak out.
She smiled at that, flashing brilliant white teeth, but Harry couldn't help but notice the smile didn't quit e reach those wrong eyes. "I don't presume to know the correct grammar spoken where you came from, but here it would be more polite to ask 'who are you?'"
Harry said nothing, so she continued on. "I am Skade. It is a pleasure to meet you Mr..."
"Er... Potter. Harry Potter. It's a pleasure for me too. To meet you that is." Curse these teenage hormones. Tonks was struggling to hold back laughter, even Kingsley seemed to have a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. Harry flushed a bright red.
James Potter had closed the door, and finally spoke up, relieving Harry from his misery. "So Skade, is he the one?"
"He is certainly touched by prophecy. Where did you say you found him again James?"
Harry noticed his father swallow and run a hand through his dark hair. "Director Potter," he corrected her. "Pettigrew picked him up skulking in Diagon Alley, and the lad says he came through some sort of portal in the old Department of Mysteries, but he called it a Veil. And he seems to be a minor celebrity of sorts."
"And your son as well," the silver lady added.
"Yes, at least that's what he says. Did you see that?"
"I don't have to be a seer to see that, Director James. Merely being in the same room as you two is evidence enough." Her accent was strange, but Harry couldn't quite place it. Not British, or even American. She must be European he decided.
"So is he the one?" James asked again.
Skade stared intensely at Harry for a moment; her grey eyes making him feel naked under the scrutiny. "All the signs point to it," she stated abruptly, turned on her heels and made for the door. James held it shut for an instant, whispered something in her ear, and let her out.
Harry reached for his soup and took a sip. Still warm, but then again Skade had only been in the room for a couple of minutes. It had just felt like hours.
"Our resident seer," James said, answering Harry's unasked question. "She's very talented."
"I bet she is," said Tonks, almost making Harry snort out a mouthful of soup.
"That will be enough Tonks," James said, his face a picture of calm, but Harry noted a slight strain in his voice. "I think we may be done here. Kingsley, find Lupin and Pettigrew, wherever they've got off too, and tell them to join me in my office. Tonks, I believe you have some cadets to train?"
"Mattie, Cormac and Dennis. But surely there are more important things I could be doing?" Tonks asked.
"Oh really, like what?"
"Missions, maybe? You know, useful things. Things that aren't essentially glorified babysitting."
"I really don't have time for this Tonks. If you don't like babysitting I can always assign you to muggle liaison. Your father was mud- muggleborn wasn't he? Burbage is always looking for more wand-hands."
If Harry didn't know any better he could have sworn his dad was about to say 'mudblood'. His father, who had married muggleborn Lily Potter. Harry put it out of his head; there were more obvious issues to think about than derogatory language.
But then again, was his father married to his mother here? The obvious familiarity between James and Skade, Tonks' comment – the fact that he, Harry, didn't seem to exist here...
"Fine sir, I'll take him along, teach him to wipe his arse, the usual," Tonks said, holding up her hands in defeat and interrupting his chain of thought. "You know how to use a wand at least?"
"Tri-Wizard Tournament remember," said Harry. He didn't like being talked down to like this. Outside of the Dursleys he really wasn't used to it. "But I lost mine in the Veil."
"We'll get you one tomorrow Harry. But for now you can use Tonks' wand," James said, shooting Tonks a pointed glare. "And Harry, I think it would be best if you go by Harry Dursley for the time being. Don't want to give anyone the wrong idea," his father added as he and Kingsley left the room, leaving Harry and Tonks alone.
The awkward silence was broken by the metamorphmagus. "So what are we going to do now?" she asked Harry.
"Well I don't know about you, but I'm going to finish my soup."
Sat in the training room Harry reflected on the day's events. If he was honest to himself, it had been quite underwhelming. Yes, he'd met his father, the very father who'd been dead for the past fifteen years, but it wasn't what he might have dreamed it would be. James seemed far more interested in the Veil than in his son, and those cryptic questions hadn't improved matters. 'Are you a star?' 'Why did you call it a Veil?' Why not tell me about yourself Harry?' Why did he not seem to care? Harry supposed he shouldn't be so disappointed – after all, to this James, Harry wasn't his son – in fact from what he'd picked up it seemed like James had a daughter instead. To this James, Harry was merely a curiosity, the son of a James on the other side of the Veil.
But he could have at least pretended to be interested in Harry as a person. Tonks had explained that this James was the Director of the DMLE, essentially the wizarding police, and in a time of war like they were apparently experiencing here, he would obviously be rushed off his feet. But he couldn't even spare five minutes alone with his son. Well not his son, but closer than damn near anything else.
And now he was going to have to fight somebody. Tonks told him that they did this twice a week to prepare young wizards and witches for a life outside of Azkaban. In the war. Harry wasn't quite sure who the war was against, presumably You-Know-Who. Or maybe goblins.
"Ouch," said Harry suddenly, interrupted from his reverie. Tonks had just poked him in the side with her wand. "What was that for?"
"Wotcher Cormac," she said in response, nodding towards the door of the room. Harry followed her gaze to see a boy had just entered the room. "This is Harry; he'll be joining in our training session today."
Harry recognised the boy, Cormac Mc-something-or-other, a Gryffindor in the year above; tall, handsome and by all accounts a good quidditch player. And, according to Katie Bell at least, a major douchebag.
Cormac shook hands with Harry. "It's always nice beating fresh meat, but you have my word I'll go easy on you. Wouldn't want to make a bad impression," he added with a wink.
Too late for that thought Harry. Wanker.
The three of them were quickly joined by another boy Harry recognised, Dennis Creevey ("wotcher Dennis"), and a girl Harry didn't know ("wotcher Mattie") to complete the group.
So this is Mattie, Harry thought. Lupin's god-daughter. James' actual daughter. To be honest Harry had expected her to look like Lily, or maybe a female version of himself, but instead the girl had honey blonde hair and dark blue eyes. Not Potter traits.
The sleeves of her sweater were rolled up to the elbow, her hair pulled back into a pony tail, and she was already brandishing a wand. Harry couldn't fault her on that account; she definitely looked ready for action. "Hi Harry," she said when she reached the group. "I'm Mattie. Pleased to meet you. If you've talked to Cormac at all, just ignore everything he says. My Dad says he was born with a silver spoon in his mouth, but I think it was a silver foot."
Harry smiled at that, and noted Cormac's scowl out the corner of his eye. "And your Dad is..."
"The one and only James Potter," she finished for him, rolling her eyes. "And no, having the Director as your dad is not as cool as everyone seems to think. And before you say anything, I'm not Daddy's little princess either. I can handle myself."
Harry wondered where that sudden outburst had come from, but he was interrupted by Tonks suddenly whistling. "Alright everyone, before we start the exciting bit I thought we might have a pop quiz, make sure you've been listening in my lessons Cormac," she added pointedly, ignoring his moans of derision. "Don't worry I've only got a few questions. Then you can start attacking each other."
"Awesome," Harry heard Mattie mutter at this.
"First up we'll go over a few medical spells. Picture it: Dennis has swallowed some gobstones again, he's choking, what should we do?"
"Put him out of his misery!" Cormac yelled out, and receiving a punch to the arm in response from Mattie.
"Anapneo," said Dennis quietly, blushing.
"Well done Dennis," said Tonks, "I thought you might remember that one." Dennis blushed an even deeper crimson; something Harry hadn't thought was possible. He wondered what the story was behind that. "Okay, what if I've broken a leg and need a splint. What's the spell for that?"
Harry remembered that one from when Lupin had cast it on Ron. Before he met Sirius. "Ferula," he called out.
"Well done Harry, and he's not even been in any of our lessons," Tonks said to the rest of the group. "And finally, what would I need to cast if someone suffers a nasty cut. From Sectumsempra, for example."
Harry hadn't heard of Sectumsempra, or for that matter the healing spell for cuts. It seemed that nobody else had either.
"Anapneo?" said Dennis hopefully.
"No Dennis, Anapneo is just for choking. It's not the answer to everything. The spell I'm looking for is Vulnera Sanetur. You cast it once to stop the blood, twice to knit the wound, and thrice to stop scarring if it's not a major wound." Tonks cast a disappointed eye over her students for a moment. "I have to say I expected you to get all of those right. It's basic stuff guys." Basic my arse thought Harry. "But you can redeem yourselves if you can get this one right: How would I find a person who's hiding from me, but still nearby?"
"Oh I know this one," cried out Cormac. "Homer – homo – homorphus?" He trailed off, unsure.
"Homorphus? That's for turning werewolves back into human form. Very tricky to get the hand movements right for that one, but I'm sure you won't be encountering any werewolves, so you probably don't need to know it. Good try though Cormac."
Harry was tempted to point out that he had 'encountered' a werewolf less than twenty-four hours ago, but decided to let it slide.
"Homenum Revelio," Mattie said suddenly. "Swish to the left, flick up, then back down and flick to the right."
"Correct Mattie! A famously flamboyant spell indeed." All of a sudden Tonks clapped her hands together. "Okay, I'm sure you're all bored enough of this quiz by now, so it's time for the fun stuff. Cormac and Mattie on one side, Dennis and Harry on the other. You all know the rules?"
"There are no rules!" the three others cried out in return.
"All right then, what are you waiting for? Go!" said Tonks.
In an instant everyone had their wands out.
"Expelliarmus!"
"Protego!"
"Petrificus Totalus!"
Harry wasn't quite sure what was happening, but the last one got him, and he felt his body seize up, his arms snap down against his body, and he fell backwards onto the hard wooden floor. A moment later he saw Dennis take a stunner to the chest. Harry didn't think this was quite fair.
"I don't have a wand," said Harry by way of explanation as the counter-spell was cast upon him. "I'm not so hot with wandless magic."
Tonks at least had the good grace to look apologetic as she handed him her wand. "Don't break it," she said, but was cut off by a sudden squeal.
Cormac was keeled over on the ground moaning. "He tried to touch me," said Mattie matter-of-factly. "I told him to piss off, but there's no helping some boys. Next time I'll curse little Cormac off," she added as she stood over him.
Tonks sighed, and for a moment her hair turned a shade of grey. "I suppose I should have expected something like this when I put you two together. Cormac and Dennis facing Mattie and Harry. Go!"
This time Harry was not to be taken by surprise. After all, he was the Tri-Wizard champion, and appearances had to be kept up. With a sudden jerking motion he elbowed Dennis, who was still stood to his left, in the nose. He heard a crunch, and saw the younger boy crumple to the floor. Maybe Harry didn't need a wand after all.
He dove over the boy's prone body to avoid a flash of blue light that came screaming at him from where Cormac and Mattie had been. He didn't know who had sent it – it could have been aimed at Dennis for all Harry knew, but friendly fire was still fire after all. Landing on all fours like a particularly ungainly cat, Harry was on his feet in a flash to look around the room.
The once empty space between him and the two others was now a vortex of whirling chairs, desks, books and general classroom debris. Tonks seemed to be to blame for this abundance of cover, the metamorphmagus' hands moved like an orchestral composer's, directing the furniture around the room with each flick of her wrists. Obviously she was proficient in wandless techniques.
Harry had to duck an outlying book that almost knocked him off his feet, and tried to get a fix on Cormac. Hearing a low groan from behind, he turned to cast Petrificus Totalus at Dennis. The younger Creevey's face was a mess of blood, and Harry felt a little bit guilty. The boy was only thirteen after all. Perhaps elbowing him in the face was a little harsh.
A sudden barking noise drew Harry's eyes back towards the others. Through the vortex of furniture he could see Mattie trying to fight off two dogs; presumably they had once been chairs, and ducking jets of light from Cormac's wand.
"Confringo!" Harry cried out, obliterating a table. He needed a clear shot, but Tonks showed no sign of letting up with her spell. He briefly considered stunning her – they had said there were no rules after all, but... well he supposed lines had to be drawn somewhere, and stunning the teacher was probably crossing a line.
Cormac had a similar idea as Harry, and started to cast more spells to obliterate the classroom books and furniture. Chunks of wood and paper splintered out in multiple directions, forcing Harry to duck if he didn't want to be impaled on a chair leg.
"Stupefy!" the older boy yelled out as the vortex began to thin out, but Harry had seen the spell coming from a mile off, and casually deflected it with a shield.
"Expelliarmus!" Harry shot off in retort forcing Cormac to drop to the floor.
"Stupefy!" the boy returned, but his spell clipped a flying book, sending it shooting off in the wrong direction.
"Expelli-"
Harry couldn't finish his spell. His mouth snapped shut and refused to open. He hadn't seen where the spell had come from. Admittedly Cormac was good, but surely he couldn't be that good. For a moment Harry considered Tonks may have cast the spell at him, but as he heard a shout from behind him he dived instinctively to the side.
It was Dennis. Somehow he was still going. Out of the corner of his eye Harry could see Cormac was now distracted by Mattie, so he grabbed a flying chair out of mid-air and advanced on Dennis. Mentally Harry cursed himself for his lack of knowledge. I can't do wandless magic, I can't do wordless magic, how was I meant to beat Voldemort again? Unless the 'power the dark lord knows not' is an elbow to the face I'm fairly sure I'm screwed.
Slowly Harry advanced on Dennis, using the chair to block each of the spells sent his way. For some reason the other boy seemed unable to move, sitting motionless on the floor. But the upper half of his body seemed unaffected, as he was still flinging curses. Harry caught a couple on his chair and in no time he was looming over his attacker. Harry smiled grimly as he saw the fear in Dennis' eyes. With both hands he swung the chair at the boy's head. There was a sickening crunch and a clatter as his wand dropped to the floor. This time Harry didn't feel guilty. Dennis had been asking for it anyway. He should have known when he was beaten.
Harry stashed the dropped wand, and turned to face Cormac again. Currently duelling Mattie, the older boy was completely oblivious to Harry as he slowly but surely crept around the furniture. Closer and closer. Inch by inch...
But Harry was too slow. With a flourish and a jet of light Cormac disarmed the girl, who flew backwards to land with a thud on the hard floor. Harry didn't know what to do. He couldn't cast a spell, he was too far away to use the now tried and tested 'Harry Potter chair smash'. He was effectively powerless...
Cormac was gloating as he pointed his wand down at Mattie, who still lay on the floor. "Ah, revenge is so sweet. Maybe you'll remember that next time you kick me in the balls. You know, I've always wanted to see you tied up," he said. "Incarcer-"
Harry had slipped off a shoe and lobbed it at Cormac, bouncing it off his curly golden locks. "What the hell?" the boy yelled out, spinning around to face Harry. But what he hadn't seen was Harry's second throw. Dennis' wand arced through the air and into Mattie's outstretched hand.
"Stupefy," said Cormac.
Harry flipped him the bird as the spell hit his chest. There was just enough time to see a flash of blue hit Cormac from behind before he blacked out.
Harry awoke, groggy and lethargic. The lights were too bright, and there was a pounding in his temples. "What the-"
"That was amazing," he heard a girl's voice say as his eyes slowly adjusted to the brightness.
"Hermione?"
"No, it's me, Mattie. That was amazing Harry. We make a badass team. Who's Hermione?"
"Just a friend," Harry murmured as he began to get his bearings. He'd come through the Veil, fought a werewolf, met his Dad, fought a duel – and then it all came flooding back to him. "Amazing? All I did was throw my shoe at him. I'm actually capable of slightly more than that."
"Tonks said that was what a proper auror would have done, thinking on your feet. And the way you sacrificed yourself so I could get in the winning shot – that was really cool too."
"Although a proper auror would know the counter jinx to Langlock," said a friendly voice from behind. "Still, I was very impressed with you two. Cormac is quite a powerhouse, and you combined admirably well to take him down," said Tonks, standing over them.
"Yeah, well, they cheated – Harry almost killed Dennis, that's not in the rules." Cormac put in, scowling, his face a mess of ugly red boils and pustules. "And she cursed me after I was already out."
Mattie looked sheepish at that, but Tonks was having none of it. "You know the rules Cormac."
"There are none," supplied Harry helpfully.
"Bingo," said Tonks with a grin. "Now guys, I hope you've learned a lot from that little game. I'll take you to the medical wing Dennis. And Mattie, maybe you could give Harry the guided tour of Azkaban. I know he's been dying to see the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office."
Harry could think of many places he would rather be, but then again it could be worse. He was with his father, he had a sister... this side of the Veil didn't seem so bad after all. But something was still troubling at the back of his mind. Something was missing. Sirius.