A/N: A quick note regarding Harry's character. I understand that some readers may think that his actions in this story are uncharacteristic. Let me explain my reasoning.
In Deathly Hallows, Harry uses the Cruciatus Curse on multiple Death Eaters - Amycus Carrow the most notable example. Harry tortures Carrow in defence and retaliation of someone who he cares immensely for - Minerva McGonagall.
I'm taking that aspect of his character and amplifying it perhaps more than JKR ever would, but that's the beauty of fan fiction. It exists to fundamentally explore stories and characters, and answer questions that aren't necessarily answered by the author.
Anyway - on with the story!
VIII. 4F-360-98
There is a tiny island - unchartered by Muggles - somewhere in the North Sea.
And on this island, there is a fortress made of iron and black stone.
High, unforgiving walls and a terrible darkness guard the prisoners kept there.
But this fortress is no ordinary prison. It is a prison of magic.
They call it Azkaban.
Harry
My first impression of Azkaban could be summed up by a single word: bleak.
Waves crashed on the rocks that made up the island, and a driving rain lashed the black stone of the fortress. A howling wind constantly battered at my eardrums.
This was arguably the single most unpleasant place on Earth.
"Hospitable wasn't exactly what they had in mind when they built this place," quipped Y.
I had no problem agreeing with him.
As the boat we were on drew close to the island, the wards surrounding it bore down on me.
"Merlin!" I exclaimed.
"Everyone reacts like that the first time," X said.
The wards surrounding Hogwarts - some of the most powerful magical defences ever devised - were designed to be discreet.
The wards surrounding Azkaban were anything but.
Immense magical pressure washed over me. I could feel my magic being stifled. Suddenly, I felt dizzy.
I had new respect for Sirius, putting up with that for all those years.
We reached a small pier, and we disembarked quickly. The pier lead to a narrow - but thankfully covered - stone stairway.
At the top of the stairway was a tall iron door, carved with runes.
"It's the only entrance in or out."
X tapped his wand to the door three times, muttering an incantation. With a coarse grinding noise, the door began to swing slowly inwards. It came to rest with a dull thud. X led the way inside.
Immediately, I was hit with a feeling of abject despair. There was no hope or light in this place.
Only pure misery.
I paused, leaning against a wall for support.
"Deal with it, Harry. Think of a happy memory," said X.
I steadied myself, and started walking again - wondering how on earth X and Y managed happy memories.
"There are no prisoners on this level. Most are kept higher up, and then there a couple in the Pit," X continued.
"The Pit?"
"You really don't want to know. But you'll see."
X pointed to a rack of torches, all alight with a bright blue flame.
"Here, grab one. The Dementors won't bother you."
"And it'll help you see," added Y, taking note of our dim surroundings.
"I thought Kingsley was getting rid of the Dementors," I said.
X snorted. "That's the official story. But ask yourself - if you had an army of prison wardens who had the power to suck the soul out of a person, would you let them go?"
"Hell, where would you send them? This place is as much a prison for them as well. And how many members of the public ever come here? The answer is none. Believe me, Harry, this is the best place for the Dementors."
He had a point.
"Where's the one we wanted?" I asked.
"He's in the Pit."
We entered into a large open space. Stairs led up to the higher levels. Faint sounds came from the cells. Everywhere I looked, a Dementor hovered nearby - thankfully keeping enough distance. A single flight of stairs went downwards.
We went down.
Water dripped from the passageway that led down into the earth. The narrow stairs were steep and glistened black. The wards grew even stronger as we went further into the earth. Finally, the stairway broadened and we entered a cavernous chamber deep beneath the island.
In the middle of the cavern was a deep pit. About twenty great chains - each thicker than a person - dropped down into the hole.
I went to the edge of the pit, leaning over a guard rail close to the edge and immediately wished I hadn't.
The chains receded into darkness.
A darkness made up by - there was no other word for it - a swarm of thousands of Dementors.
"This was originally built to contain Grindelwald. But he ended up in Nuremgard. Dumbledore refused to let him be imprisoned here," said Y, joining me at the edge.
"He said that Grindelwald was a monster, but he was still human."
"Since that time, it was used as a form of punishment for prisoners who didn't behave."
"Like solitary confinement?" I asked.
"Something like that, yeah."
X had walked around to the other side, and tapped his wand to one of a row of winches lining the rear of the cavern.
One of the massive chains began to rise, inching slowly upwards.
Finally, the thing attached to the end of the chain began to appear.
It was a golden cage, and stood out in stark relief to the inky blackness.
Inside the cage laid a comatose figure dressed in the simple grey robes of the prisoners of Azkaban.
"They stay in a kind of coma whilst in the Pit. It's the only way they stay sane."
"How does they eat?"
"They don't. The cages magically sustain them."
"I almost think I'd prefer death," I remarked.
"You wouldn't be the only one. Several prisoners, rather than be caged down there, jumped into the Pit. It's half a mile to the bottom."
"And if the fall doesn't kill them, then the Dementors will."
X had levitated the prisoner out of his cage.
"Let's go back up. I don't want to spend any time down here I don't have to."
As we left, I wondered if Sirius had ever spent any time in the Pit.
He had never mentioned it to me. I could understand why.
We made our way back to the ground level.
Y sat the prisoner roughly in a chair, before magically binding him securely.
"Veritaserum?" asked Y.
"No. I want to know what he'll say if he's not compelled to tell the truth," X replied.
Y nodded, and revived the grey-robed figureas I went invisible.
"Ugh…" the man groaned.
"Can you see us?"
The man blinked, trying to get his bearings.
Y slapped his face.
"Focus. You can hear me?"
"Ugh…yes."
"Good. Now, listen."
"There are two ways we can do this. If you cooperate, we will testify at your trial in your favour. You will receive life imprisonment in Barden's Keep instead of this hellhole. If you don't, my friend here will break into your mind, find out what we need to know with Legilimency, and then we'll call in the Dementors. Understand?"
"You're not MLE," said the Death Eater, his voice rusty.
"I'm glad you noticed. Is that a yes or no?" Y asked.
"Yes."
"What is your full name?"
"William Nichols."
"Why are you here?"
"I am a Death Eater."
"You were captured shortly after the fall of Voldemort, is that correct?"
"You don't deserve to say the Dark Lord's name!"
"I don't give a fuck as to what you think I deserve. I asked you a question," Y said forcefully.
"Yes. That's correct," Nichols said.
"Okay. According to our information, you were part of a group of Death Eaters that led research into arcane forms of Dark Magic."
"It was an assignment that the Dark Lord handpicked me for personally. It was of the utmost importance."
"What did you work on?"
"New weapons - curses, ways of mass-murdering Mudbloods."
"Genocide?"
Nichols shrugged.
"If you want to call it that."
"I think I do." Y's voice had a hard edge to it.
"I have reports that you experimented with captured Muggleborns."
"Is that true?"
"Yes."
"And you tested the weapons you were trying to develop on these people."
"Yes." "Tell me about the Death Eaters."
"What do you mean?"
"The structure - the chain of command, so to speak."
"We only answered to the Dark Lord."
"You must have had generals, or lieutenants."
"The Dark Lord had his inner circle - the Death Eaters who had joined him first, or who had known him at Hogwarts."
"Lucius Malfoy, for example."
Y nodded.
"They were his most favoured, and orders were often relayed through them."
"We could gain favour though, and be rewarded if we were successful in a task, and that way, we'd move up the ranks."
"What kind of tasks?"
"There were the Death Eaters who ran the Ministry, those who did research like myself, the best duellists ran combat squads, some would hunt down Undesirables…"
"Any idea how many?"
"There were about thirty in the Dark Lord's inner circle. The rest of us were split into groups all over the country."
"How big was your group?"
"There were 84 of us."
"How many groups?"
"I don't know, but the Dark Lord took four groups with him when he went to attack Hogwarts."
Y shared a look with X. If four groups had gone to Hogwarts, and that had been a rough third of Voldemort's forces, that meant at the height of his power, Voldemort had commanded close to a thousand Death Eaters. That didn't even begin to take into account low level soldiers like the Snatchers.
Y continued his questioning.
I left the interrogation and made my way up to the higher cells. The odd Dementor passed by me, but they all gave me a wide berth. I was thankful for the torch I grasped in my hand.
I moved up the levels, pausing to peer into the odd cell.
Sykes. Leary. Boone. Macnair.
Each name matched a face I had studied, a file I had browsed.
Each had killed innocents.
I restrained myself. I was not here to set the place alight with Killing Curses.
But there was one person I wanted to see.
A Dementor hovered in mid-air outside her cell.
I removed my Invisibility Cloak.
She sat on the cold floor, in filthy grey prison rags, a number stitched to the front.
Prisoner 4F-360-98.
Dolores Umbridge.
Months here had driven her close to breaking.
But with my appearance, she had been brought back to startling sanity.
"It's… it's you! Why… why are you here?"
"I wanted to see for myself," I answered simply.
"So you've come to taunt me?"
"You chose the wrong side, Professor. That's why you're locked in this cell, and I'm not."
She did not reply.
With a wave of my hand, I unlocked her cell, and stepped inside. She watched on, eyes wide as I broke through the prison's defences.
"Or have you come to kill me?"
"I'm not entirely sure I wouldn't be doing you a favour, and I'm not happy with that. If anyone deserves to suffer, it's you," I answered.
I conjured a chair, and sat.
"Tell me," I began, "why did you side with Tom Riddle? I know you hate Muggle-borns. You know my mother was a Muggle-born. And I know you hate - half-breeds, you call them. Like werewolves. Remus Lupin was a werewolf. His son was orphaned by this war."
"So why?"
"Please, you must understand that I only did it all out of fear, Harry! You must understand that! I could've been killed! What was I to do?" she simpered.
"You mustn't tell lies, Umbridge," I said, rising to my feet.
"What do you mean?" she said in confusion, backing away from me.
"You. Must. Not. Tell. Lies."
With my hand, I levitated her into the air so that she was eye level with me. I stared into her bulging eyes.
"I have become an accomplished Legilimens. I can see into your mind. You don't have any remorse for the people you sentenced to rot here, the families you tore apart, the children you made orphans of."
"I have strength beyond your wildest comprehension now. I know your heart, and it is black. You're evil. Given the opportunity, you would do it all again. You loved the power, loved what you did."
I released her, and she fell to the floor.
"So the rumours are true…" she murmured.
"Rumours?"
"There is talk - I have heard only snippets - that you are hunting. Hunting us. What happens once we're all gone, Harry? What will sate your bloodlust then?"
"I don't have a bloodlust!"
"Than why are you in my cell?" she asked, a spark of shrewdness behind her eyes. Whatever her faults, Umbridge did have a demented intelligence.
"I don't have a bloodlust," I repeated. "What I have is the desire to see justice done."
"And what happens when that desire leads you to become the very thing you hunt?"
Something in me snapped.
"I am nothing like him!"
She drew back at my outburst. I composed myself.
"I can't forgive you, Umbridge, because to do that would be an insult to the memories of the lives you took away. You committed a heinous crime, and for that your punishment must be equally so."
She scuttled towards my feet, grovelling on the filthy cell floor. It was pathetic. I felt disgusted.
"Please Harry… give me a second chance…" she begged, her voice sickly sweet.
"How many people did you give a second chance to?"
"I…"
She could not finish her sentence.
I vanished the chair, and walked out of the cell, locking it with a gesture. The Dementor guarding it shrank away a few inches from my presence, drawing a rattling breath.
It was afraid of me. Some basic instinct of self-preservation told it that I was a greater predator than it.
I took a look back at the woman who had caused so much pain to so many.
"Do you remember what you did, in the summer before my fifth year?"
She didn't answer.
"Funny how things work out sometimes. Goodbye, Umbridge," I said simply, then turned back to the Dementor.
"Feed."
The Dementor glided through the bars of the cell, fixated on the woman cowering in the corner.
I walked away to the sound of her shrieking, and then, all of a sudden, her shrill cries ceased.
Prisoner 4F-360-98 was no more.
"Where did you go?" X asked me as I returned.
"I found Umbridge."
"Oh?"
"Unfortunately, it looked like a Dementor had gotten to her."
"Pity," Y said, his expression blank.
"How is he doing?" I motioned to the Death Eater sitting prone in the chair.
"We've got what we need."
The interrogation over, we returned Nichols to the Pit, shoving him into the cage and winching him down into the ground.
"Will you really testify for him?" I asked Y.
"No. He can rot in the Pit for all I care."
I felt a strange sense of satisfaction.
"Good."
We left the fortress, the iron door closing shut behind us.
As the boat sped away from the island, a weight I had not known was there lifted off my shoulders.
I breathed a sigh of relief.
Azkaban embodied a terrible necessity.
But I would not miss it.
Ginny
I sat down with Hermione in the library. A quick Muffliato ensured our conversation wouldn't be overheard.
"What have you got?"
"Before Amy died, she sent me a whole bunch of information."
"Like what?"
"Attacks, raids, missions - you name it - against Death Eaters and Voldemort's supporters that the Auror Office or anyone in the MLE had nothing to do with."
I nodded, and she continued.
"The Aurors would occasionally follow up in the aftermath of these attacks. There were never any survivors."
"Once, an Unspeakable from the Department of Mysteries specifically informed her that the Aurors had been reassigned from a particular case, and that it would be dealt by someone else."
"The Department of Mysteries? They don't do that kind of thing, do they?"
"When we went there, we barely scratched the surface, Ginny. Mysteries is the one Department that the Reform Bureau isn't allowed to touch. I don't know what goes on in there. No one does. They have a saying: The Department of Mysteries exists to deal with things the public are not equipped to handle."
"So they could be doing something then."
"Yes. Amy thought there was some kind of black ops team."
"A covert assassination squad?"
"Yeah. Take no prisoners kind of thing."
"How does Harry come into it then?"
"Amy didn't confirm it - and to be honest, her evidence is pretty circumstantial - but she thought Harry might be part of it all."
"Harry, part of a black ops team?" I asked, incredulous.
"That was her theory."
"Harry wouldn't kill anyone!" I said, almost angry that Hermione would suggest it.
"Ginny, it's not my theory - it's Amy's. I find it hard to believe too. But then he did kill Voldemort," she reminded me gently.
"Not with the Killing Curse - and only because of the prophecy," I replied.
"Nevertheless, he still killed him. It doesn't matter how he did it. A death is a death."
I was quiet. Hermione, as usual, was right.
But I didn't like to think about it.
"Did she ever see him?"
"No. But she met the two people - the Unspeakables - who are supposedly part of this too."
"Do you think she was right? Do you really think Harry is involved in this?"
"I don't know, Ginny," she replied carefully. "It would explain what he's been doing since he disappeared, but it's hard to picture him coming to terms with killing people. Even Dark Wizards."
"He did say he wanted to be an Auror."
"Yes…but there's a world of difference between a fair trial and imprisonment in Azkaban and taking someone's life by covert assassination. I just don't know, Ginny. I do agree with you. I'm just not sure I can see it in him."
I was silent.
Despite our doubts, part of me couldn't shake the feeling that Amy might just be right.
Endnote: Hope you enjoyed! Please review!