Another short chapter: sorry I'd forgotten these early ones were a little light! They get longer I promise…
Chapter Three - Regalus and Andromidus Black
Harry's heart went cold. He was being held in a lair run by goodness knows how many Death Eaters, he had been tortured, Neville had been captured and Ginny had been threatened. And all this was the responsibility of Sirius' brother Regalus and cousin Andromidus?
"But… but…" Harry started, his mind desperately trying to comprehend the dire situation he was in, "But I thought you died! Sirius told me you tried to back out of the Death Eaters and that – that you had been killed on Voldemort's instruction!"
Regalus, who had still not taken his mask off, let out a delighted laugh. "So that ploy did work!" His laughter to Harry sounded nothing like that of Sirius; it was far less jovial and had a definite hint of cruelty and malice in its midst. "We did wonder.
"No Harry. The Dark Lord devised a scheme to hide me so completely that I would be thought dead. He even made a fake body that had an adapted form of Polyjuice Potion in it to make it seem as though I were truly dead. And then I hid. Soon the Dark Lord sent Andromidus here to join me, and gradually the numbers of Death Eaters here swelled to nearly thirty. We were the Secret Elite.
"As time went by and the first war was fought, we operated completely in secret, carrying out the most crucial of missions. Not even the Dark Lord's so-called "closest" Death Eaters knew of our existence; not Wormtail; not Lucius; not even Severus. And so we gathered his army, used the Muggle attacks as diversions to speak to the Dementors and at one point had nearly half the Ministry either dead, under surveillance or under our control.
"And then, in a seemingly routine attack on Godric's Hollow, it all fell apart. A half-blood baby had escaped alive from an attack, whilst the Dark Lord had been, as we thought, destroyed. I will admit that some of us almost lost faith. While none of us could return to our former identities several re-entered the community under false names and have managed to take up jobs, raise families, and lead normal lives again. But always we have remained faithful. Andromidus and I personally had always been looking for ways of resurrecting the Dark Lord when, just over three years ago, he managed it without us.
"Needless to say we were overjoyed that he was back. Andromidus was there that night in the graveyard. Within minutes of your… escape, Voldemort had re-established with Andromidus the Secret Elite. We spent the second war co-ordinating Giants, Werewolves and Dementors. And still you managed to face Voldemort..."
He trailed off and Harry allowed himself a small grin which Neville returned. They both regretted it as both were hit by the Cruciatus curse once more. As the pain subsided Harry wrenched his gaze up into the eyes of Regalus. "Why are you telling me this?"
"Why?" said Regalus with a small, twisted laugh. "Just thought you ought to know who was holding you and your friend. We thought you should know how serious we are."
"Yes," Harry murmured, "because it's been a barrel of laughs so far." This time Regalus laughed instead of putting Harry under the Cruciatus curse.
"Still got a sense of humour then?" he asked, almost jovially. "I'm sure we can drive that out of you… Andromidus, take Mr Longbottom away. When he is being… interrogated, bring him somewhere near here, so Harry can hear. Otherwise keep him on the upper level." Andromidus nodded and, placing the sack back on Neville's head, he dragged Neville out of the room and out of sight. A moment later, Regalus followed him, leaving Harry to his thoughts.
*
Harry saw little of his captors and nothing of Neville over the next couple of days. Once he heard Neville scream and Harry felt sick to his stomach. Neville had been brought into this for merely trying to help Ginny, and Harry felt a surge of affection for his friend upstairs. Harry was also grimly proud to note that Neville did not seem to be allowing them much satisfaction with the Death Eaters attempts to torture him.
Harry's attempts to draw more conversation from Regalus proved fruitless, and so he concentrated his efforts on the one thing that mattered most at that moment in time: escape.
His focus on this subject had so far proved almost as fruitless as trying to talk to Regalus. The guards were all strictly loyal and none could be lured into any deviation from either stolid silence or the Cruciatus curse. Their rotation was clockwork and none ever showed any outward sign of tiredness or anything other than their unswerving attention.
He was forced to acknowledge that he would not be able to escape by turning one of the Death Eaters, or by their neglect. Harry couldn't help but be grudgingly impressed with their fervour and unwavering attention to the task in hand, although it did make his life a lot more difficult. He instead focussed his mind on other ideas.
First, he tried to communicate with Neville. Harry knew that thought projection was possible, as an obscure branch of Legilimency. However this proved to be unwise as the alarm bell clanged its familiar, punishment-preceding tune, and Harry was once again hit with the Cruciatus curse.
It was at that moment that Harry realised that to succeed he had to turn off the alarm. Since he had absolutely no idea where the alarm was, or how it worked, this instantly posed a big problem. Harry sat there thinking for a moment, trying to decide how he could possibly escape. What would Dumbledore do?
This was a question he had an inkling he could answer. Dumbledore would use his feelings. He would reach out with his magic, grasping to find an aura of power, the glow of raw magic pulsating somewhere inside the room. He would some how remove the magic around the alarm, but how? Harry decided to cross that bridge when he came to it. Before he could try anything though, Regalus entered the room. He held out a vial in front of him.
"Drink," he said simply.
Harry eyed it warily. "What is it?"
"Crucio!" Regalus spat at him violently and Harry, caught completely unawares, was knocked to the floor as the somewhat familiar agony pounded into his body. As the curse was lifted Regalus held the vial out again. "Drink!"
Harry knew that, one way or another, he would be forced to drink it and extended a slightly shaking hand. He peered at the substance inside for a moment. It was a viscous, muddy-green liquid that seemed to be moving and bubbling whilst remaining stationary. Harry lifted it towards his lips and tossed it back in one go. However, it didn't feel like an ordinary liquid: instead of falling down his throat it felt as though the liquid was working its way up into Harry's head somehow, and a moment later, Harry keeled over.
A quick succession of images flicked through his head: A river; a pavement; a flight of stairs; and finally a bedroom. In this room he could hear a child crying, but he awoke before anything could happen. Regalus took another small bottle from his pocket and took a drop of Harry's blood into it, before leaving the room.
Harry was confused. What were they looking for? Where were the scenes he had just witnessed? Who was the child? This last question sent a horrible thought down Harry's spine, but he quickly repressed it, turning his attention back to the task in hand. He lay back down on his side, facing away from the door, and closed his eyes.
Now what? He had never known how to do this kind of magic; never been called upon to do it. Yet now here he was, trapped by a group of Voldemort's most important Death Eaters, in an alarmed room, with Neville somewhere nearby. Harry shut these thoughts out knowing full well that pressure would make things twice as hard. He closed his eyes, and tried to relax. He let every feeling, every thought about his current plight escape from his mind and, eyes tight shut, began to visualise the room.
There was the door and the guards beyond it, and the four rocky walls around him. Harry could almost feel the hard cell walls around him when he realised, with a moment of delighted surprise, that he really could feel them. In his shock he let go of the feeling, but not before noting how he had felt. He began to reach out again, but didn't know where he should be feeling. He began to systematically comb the walls around him, but an idea struck him. He prepared himself for the Cruciatus curse that was about to come his way, and began reaching out with his thoughts, trying to contact Neville. As predicted the alarm went off and Harry was hit the Cruciatus curse, but not before noting where the alarm was. He would wait for the change of the guards to try again, he decided, but a small beacon of hope now flared in his heart.