{Disclaimer: The Harry Potter World was created by J.K. Rowling and rights are owned by, but not limited to, Warner Brothers and Scholastic Books. I, therefore, own no parts of this save for Andromeda McGee, Wyvern and my twisted, yet original, plotline.}
Chapter 5
Crucible
**"You need people of intelligence for this mission…quest…thing!" "Well, that rules you out, Pip." Pereguin Took and Meriadoc Brandybuck in The Fellowship of the Ring**
Sirius could see the Head Master's grave expression through the green flames of the Floo connection. "Are you sure that she'll be alright?"
Dumbledore paused, contemplating the best way to word what he had to say. "No, I'm afraid that I don't know what will happen to her. Either she will return to us or she will die. It can't be known now. Only Andromeda can decide her own fate."
That was not what he wanted to hear. "Yes, sir."
"Sirius, I won't lie to you and say everything will just fine, for that is not the truth. Delusions do nothing but give us false hopes that we do not need, especially at times like these. You still need to live your own life."
"You mean the Ministry still needs me for whatever quest they're trying to send me on."
"No, that's not it at all. You're abilities do give us an advantage, but there are others that need you as well, like Harry."
"I know."
"Then I suggest you get on with life. It will be the best thing to do for now, until Andromeda decides to come back to us."
"You honestly think that she will return?"
Dumbledore's clear eyes twinkled in the flames. "Of course I do. Andromeda is a strong woman with a lot of life left in her yet. She'll come back." Or so he hoped she would.
"Alright. You still need us to report in a few hours?"
"Yes. I know it will be difficult for both of you but no one else can or will do it."
"We'll go. As long as I don't have to go back to the cells, I'll be fine."
"You shouldn't have to. It's the Administrative building that we're looking for. That should be no where near the actual holding area." A knock was heard on the office door. "I must leave you now. Until eleven." The Dumbledore's head disappeared from the flames.
Sirius turned away. "Shit." He collapsed into a nearby, worn blue chair, cradling his head in his hands. "Why do they do this to me? Why? Can't the world find another scapegoat other than myself?"
"No, Padfoot, I don't think so," Remus entered the room, dropping a sack in an empty chair. The house had been quiet since the children left. The Weasleys had decided to take them for the rest of the summer since both men would be 'occupied' for a few months. Now with Andy out of commission, there were no more explosions to put a bit of spice in their life. Thank the gods for a change of pace, though the change of pace was not something necessarily good.
"Why not?" Sirius decided to be frustrated with everything in general.
"The world enjoys picking on you too much."
"Thanks, Moony," he said sarcastically. "Do you have everything you need?"
"I think so," the werewolf looked down to the pack. "Thankfully Andy brewed an extra batch of the potion. It should last me for at least a month, if not two and we shouldn't be gone that long any way."
"Good. What else?"
"I went through a few of the boxes in the basement, pulled out a couple of knives and some rope. With our wands on top of that and a bit of food, we should be fine. It all depends if we find what we're looking for."
"Yes it does. What are we looking for in the first place? No one decided to tell me that yet."
Remus thought for a moment. "There was a man that was imprisoned in Azkaban in the early 1900's for heresy against the Ministry. The man was named Wilhelm von Fleckingar. He was a brilliant scientist in both the Muggle and Wizarding worlds and wrote many books about magic, its limits, and its uses. He also experimented on how to push magic beyond its normal limits, which is how he was convicted in the first place, for disagreeing with the Ministry's restraints. He kept the books he wrote on his person until he was sentenced to life in the prison. It is believed that they are someplace in the storage of Azkaban."
Sirius took a few seconds to process what had been said before responding. "So we're looking for an old box of books in the basement of a high security prison? Wonderful. That's just how I wanted to spend my first free summer in a long time."
"You don't understand how important this is, do you?"
"Not really," he admitted.
"If these books are located before Voldemort can get at them, they will give us an advantage against him. These books unlock doors to things we never dreamed of doing, Padfoot! Imagine the possibilities!"
"You mean we could fly without brooms or you could be cured or…"
"Exactly."
"Oh. Well, that explains everything now, doesn't it?"
"It should. So you understand why this is so important?"
"Yeah," he was thinking other things as well. Maybe the books would give him access to a way to bring Andy's soul back. He stood up and grabbed a small worn pack. "I suppose we should go. Dumbledore wants to meet with us at eleven."
The Head Master was waiting for them at the front doors of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. "You're right on time. We won't be going inside. There's no need for that." He lead them down to the pond in silence. "We can talk here. It should safe enough. You both understand what your task is?"
Remus nodded. "We're going to search the basement of a high security prison that is no longer in operation in order to locate a box of books that belonged to a long dead wizard."
"Yes. You do realize why the two of you have to do this, correct? I need to make sure everything is completely understood."
Sirius bit his lower lip. He did not relish going back to Azkaban. "Both of us are highly trained in the Dark Arts and the defense thereof?" he guessed.
"That is part of it, yes. Other than that you both are trained to defend yourselves in case of an attack while you are there, you both are familiar with the grounds of the prison and inconspicuous enough to blend in when needed. Report back to me when you find what is there." Dumbledore pulled out a small box from his voluminous robes. "This is your port key. It will take you to the office part of Azkaban. From there, the basement should be labeled on one of the doors. Good luck, both of you." He handed them a small terracotta flower pot.
Sirius felt the familiar yank behind his stomach as the Port Key brought them to the prison. It was just as he remembered it: dark, dreary, and unforgiving. The Dementors were gone along with the rest of the prisoners. No one wanted to reopen it again after the attack last summer. There were other prisons that criminal wizards could be locked up in. He closed his eyes for a moment, not relishing the idea of going back inside the place he had been trapped in for twelve, lengthy years.
"Are you alright, Padfoot?" Remus placed a hand on his friend's shoulder.
"I'm fine," he was hesitant, but would not admit to it. He would do this for Andy. He would do this to get her back. "Let's go."
The interior was lit only by sunlight streaming through crooked window shades. No one had bothered to close them when they evacuated the place. It held an eerie quality to it, like cemetery on a cold winter's night. Dust motes flecked the air, spinning in gentle eddies. Desk were covered with papers that hadn't been touched for almost a year. Their owners had most likely been killed by the Death Eaters during the attack, or if they lived, did not have the courage to return.
Remus wiped the dust off of one piece and read quietly to himself, shaking his head. He didn't know what to think. He knew Sirius did not want to be here at all. He was not the only one who felt apprehensive about being here. This place was definitely high on the list of creepy places that he did not want to visit again. He placed it right after the cemetery near the vampire community. Now that place was disturbing. All the coffins and their owners…He cleared his head quickly of that memory. Obviously all of Azkaban's charm had yet to wear off.
"The basement's this way," Sirius's voice had dropped to a whisper. The place was getting to him as well.
There was a dust covered door clearly marked 'Basement.' Thankfully, the people had been in a hurry enough to leave it unlocked. It opened with a loud creak, splitting the blanket of silence that hung like shroud around them. Sirius peered down into the dark gloom. It looked an abyss to the lower netherworlds. He did not doubt that it might very well be one. Both men lit their wands as they started down the stairs.
The room was enormous. It could have easily been a small, underground lake with boxes and containers as its fish. The men looked around, jaws dropping in amazement.
"This could take forever," Padfoot muttered.
"No, there is an easier way to do this."
"There is? You mean other than go through them one by one?"
Remus nodded and replied in a voice save for small children and mental invalids. "There is such thing as a locator spell, you know."
"I knew that."
"Sure you did, Padfoot." He thought for a moment. "Locate." His wand spun around pointing them toward a far corner.
"That helped a whole bunch. Now how many boxes are in that corner?"
"We simply do it again until we locate the correct box."
The task was not as easy as he made it sound. The boxes were so densely packed together, they either had to move them or climb over them to get to there their destination. The box was a small non descript brown cardboard. It could have been mistaken for something other than what was holding the fate of the world.
"Do you want to do the honors?"
Sirius nodded, having let Remus do the searching. The lid opened to revel a single book. "This is it?"
"It must be," the werewolf pulled it out and flipped back the cover. The only words on it were The Diary of Wilhelm Frederick von Fleckingar. He thumbed through the pages finding all of them blank except for one. "This is odd. Listen to this, Padfoot. 'You have successfully located my belongings. I assume that you have found this after my death or you would have come to me first. You are more than likely searching for the notes of the experiments I performed many years ago. They will not be easy to find, my friends, for I have hid them well. Good luck.' Then he signed it. Underneath is a strange poem thing."
"You mean that our brilliant scientist wrote a poem to hide his findings?"
"Exactly. No wonder he was a genius."
"What does it say?"
Remus read it softly, each passage echoing in the dark of the dungeons.
Have you not yet found my mean?
Or do you believe that I have wronged?
Given what is said to be
What can be done so easily
As to find my hidden lot
Respect the place the stone dragon sleeps
To lurk by the serpent's enemy
Stays the treasure that I leave you.
Stunned silence bathed the duo as they attempted to translate what had been said. "Well, I say he's gone nutters. I mean, what kind of clues are those?" Sirius spoke up, sounding extremely perturbed.
"I honestly do not know. We should bring this back to Dumbledore. He'll know what to do with it."
"Yeah, that would be the intelligent thing to do." Padfoot paused for a moment. "Hey Moony, if we were able to find this guy's things, do you think mine would be down here too?"
"Probably. We could try. Andy's would be here as well."
"I'll find mine, you get hers." Sirius left before the other man could protest.
Remus focused his thoughts on Andy and spoke the spell once more. It led him to another nondescript cardboard box. He opened it, not knowing what to expect. The only thing in it was the small black purse that she had been carrying on the night of her arrest. He bit his lower lip, remembering the fateful night in full detail. No, he would not let those things get to him. They may be in the basements of the most feared place in the Wizarding community, but it would not let him go crazy yet. "Did you find anything?"
"Yeah, I got my box," Sirius reappeared wearing an odd-looking maroon ski cap with the ear flaps and ties hanging loose. "I found my old hat."
"Are you ready to go?"
"The sooner we get out of this place, the better."
They walked back upstairs to the dusty, deserted office. Remus walked out the door without a second glance. Sirius turned for a moment, waiting as if something would come. He hated this place with every ounce of his soul. It was deserted now, but the memories of Azkaban still lived on within his memories and the memories of the others that had survived their hideous stay in the cells next door. He didn't want to think about it.
Remus had their Port-key out by the time he appeared outside. The werewolf did not ask any questions, for which Sirius was glad for. He held the terracotta flower pot for the other man to touch as well. As soon as both had their fingers on it, they were pulled back to the outskirts of Hogwarts, leaving an open door creaking eerily in their wake. Azkaban was uninhabited once more.
{Author's Note: I think I'll leave it at there for now. That was a freaky enough chapter for me to write without attempting to write more. There will be more, don't worry. There is a cookie for anyone that figures out what the poem means. I am actually quite proud of it. It was written when I had a pounding sinus headache and I had been thinking in Spanish for the past hour. That is a very bad combination, by the way in case anyone was wondering. So if anyone understands what it means, you get a cookie. Or at least you get a very surprised me. I'll be quiet now. I'm rambling because I got a 91 on my Pre-calc test and I am absolutely thrilled by that! By the way, the line from the last chapter when Andy was upgraded from 'harmless' to 'mostly harmless,' is from Douglas Adams' Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy series.
Dy: Twink is a word that my math teacher in eighth grade made up. I used it as a nickname for a hamster that I had a few years ago. The hamster's actual name was Samari, as in samurai spelled wrong. I called him twink for short.
Anna Black: Candy will do that. So will coffee, which is why my friends will not let me have it any more. We have a concert band, a jazz band, and a marching band. I have no clue what level we play at. I'm in the fifth seat, if I can count correctly, in the section even though I just started last May. Clarinets are made out wood! What was she talking about? Mine's plastic, though. It was my aunt's. No, I have not seen the movie. I did realize that you were doing that. It would require me to write a third part and I don't even have the second part written beyond the beginning of chapter 6.
Angelkas: Nope, I don't get it and you don't know who I am so we're even.
Iggie: Though Gaff tape is usually more effective and duct tape would not stick to the giant blow up Frankenstein that we had. Ignore that part, it's useless.
Shasa Perino: Because I am evil, that is why there is a cliffie.
VMorticia: I meant to put a disclaimer in for that when I wrote it, so there is now one in this chapter. Andy has a temper and an attitude problem, but as you said, she would have to be a Gryffindor to run out into the middle of a fight without thinking. I was having a bit too much fun with the fight scene, I suppose. Less coffee for me…Don't worry, it is a nasty curse. The next chapter is not necessarily violence, but its dark and dreary.
Sora G. Silverwind: Yes, it is an evil cliffie, but my job is to be evil. I try to make my curses as interesting as possible.
Peace, Love, and Green Tea, Nataly Ravenlock}