Chapter 17

The Other Boy Who Lived

A snowy phoenix was gliding through a dark stone hallway. It was a white, luminous bird – made of vapors and whispers – that was illuminating the black, shadowy passageway. The phoenix twisted and turned, kissing the stone ceiling, floating down to the floor and then rising back up again. The magnificent bird threw off of a pulsing white light that shone into even the darkest corners, chasing away the shadows. It finally pushed through a large metal and stone gate and dissipated into an early morning mist.

In the gleaming wake of the fading white phoenix strode Albus Dumbledore. His bright blue and purple stripped robe clashed fiercely with the dark gothic exterior of the prison. Behind him slowly followed Alastor Moody, half dragging a sickly looking wizard. The wizard had pale skin, sunken cheeks and feeble breath. The haunted look in his vacant eyes was a tell-tale sign that many other previous occupants of Azkaban carried. Dumbledore stared out across the North Sea, the impatience in his eyes slowly turning to anger as he continued to search the sky for the Ministry promised aircraft.

Dumbledore glanced back at the veteran Auror and frail young man hanging limply beside him. Moody did not understand why he had to help rescue a Death Eater from this island fortress, but had grudgingly decided to help. Dumbledore was always so…persuasive. But an Order member had gone missing and time was of the essence; they didn't have the luxury for these little side missions.

Dumbledore shook his head; the Ministry just could not be counted on. Was it any wonder why he had decided to establish the Order?

Azkaban had many magical security enchantments in place, one of which was the ability to prevent unauthorized access to the island. These enchantments prevented countless modes of transportation including apparition, portkeys, thestrals, brooms, carpets and even the floo network. The island itself was unplottable. Only Ministry approved aircrafts or ships were allowed to dock within the island grounds. These enchantments had been created and put in place by highly trained wizards within the Ministry's employ; much too powerful to be bypassed, even by an exceedingly skilled wizard.

"Come to me Alastor. The plane won't be coming."

"If the Minister said he sent it, it's coming. Your little pet can wait for a little longer."

"I have other matters to attend to – Frank's gone missing as you know. If you will please give me Severus, I shall be off. You can wait here for the plane. Please thank the pilot for me, I appreciate him making the trip out here on such short notice."

Alastor quickly glanced back at the prison walls, shadows gliding in and out of the windows.

"I really don't think we should split up."

"Come now Alastor, like you said, I'm sure the Minister will keep his word. But unfortunately I'm in a rush."

Alastor must have had more faith in Dumbledore than in the current Minister of Magic, Millicent Bagnold, because he eventually reached out and took Dumbledore's hand.

And for the second time that morning, Dumbledore did something that was supposed to be impossible. He apparated from within the Azkaban grounds.

Alice Longbottom was a nervous wreck. There had been no word from her husband Frank for almost two days now. He had disappeared during a huge celebratory dinner the Order had been hosting. Alice figured he had gotten lost amongst the throng of revelers – he had never been a big drinker, so maybe the alcohol had caused him to retire early. Sleep it off somewhere. But that excuse rang hollow, no matter how times she told it to herself. Frank would never behave in such a manor.

And he had never gone this long without speaking with her. In fact, Alice and Frank had always spoken to each other every day for the past fifteen years. They had been childhood friends, growing up right next door to each other. They both came from respected pure-blood families, were born within a month of each other – they even looked alike. At Hogwarts, people kept confusing them for siblings – twins even. Some people in life were lucky enough to meet their soulmate early in life, marry their best friend. The Longbottoms had such luck. Popular among their friends, always willing to lend a helping hand, a room was a brighter place when they entered. They had been blessed the year before with a beautiful healthy son, the Dark Lord had fallen – the future seemed bright for this dynamic couple.

But Alice knew something was wrong, deep down in her bones. Frank would never stay out of contact this long, even if he had been traveling half way across the world. Not just to talk with her, he loved saying good night to his little boy. Dumbledore had told her to stay put while he sorted things out – these were still dangerous times, no matter what the Ministry said. The Death Eaters had suddenly lost their leader; they would be angry and violent, lashing out whenever they could. Vicious splinter cells would be forming, fracturing off from the main movement, dangerous and unpredictable

Dumbledore had warned the Order of brazen revenge attempts by lone wolves, urged them to be patient and safe. But Alice was an intelligent, brave – a woman full of life and boundless energy. She was done sitting at home, no matter what Dumbledore said. It wasn't someone he loved that was missing, it was easy for him to be so blasé about it. Dumbledore would later regret trying to force her to stay home while a loved one was in missing and in danger – a mistake he would repeat years later with another Order member.

Alice sent off an owl to her mother-in-law, informing her that little Neville needed to be watched over, and then began packing her Auror kit. Within minutes she was ready and headed out her door, happy Neville in tow.

"Be a brave boy for me tonight, and say a little prayer," Alice whispered to her son. "I promise I'm going to find out where Daddy is."

Gosh he looked just like a mini Frank…such precious eyes…precocious child…I don't know what I'd do if Frank was hurt…Why didn't I keep an eye on him at the party?

Alice stood on her front porch, guard down, lost in worry for just a few seconds. She never noticed two bushes in her front yard slowly moving towards her, shifting in and out of the shadows. In a few moments Alice was going to keep her promise to Neville, she was about to find out where her husband was.

Alice slowly opened her eyes, groggy and with a dull pain throughout her body. Her hands and feet were bound with thick rope. Her head was bouncing gently along the floor of a deserted hallway – she was being magically dragged behind two men. They were tall and skinny, each wearing dark hooded robes. One wore a mask of fire, the other a mask of swirling green smoke.

"Are we sure they know?" Rabastan asked.

"They must…you doubt it? You think He fell to a child!?" Barty spat back.

"No…no…of course not."

"Can't handle the work that needs to be done? Knew you had a weak stomach!"

"Shut your insolent mouth. Know your place Crouch, I was one of His first followers. My loyalty is beyond reproach. I come from pure, loyal stock. You on the other hand…"

"I am His most loyal follower! I stand apart from my father!"

Their bickering died down as they walked through a doorway and into a large, cavernous room. It was the factory floor to a long ago abandoned radio factory, a casualty of the inevitable march of technology. In the corner of the deserted factory floor, was a large wooden cross. Strung up high on the wooden beams was a battered wizard, his head hanging limply. He was muttering gibberish, an unintelligible language only he knew.

Standing below him, at the foot of the cross, was a bored looking wizard and witch. They were both pure-blood and came from well-respected, upstanding wizarding families. They had been married for ten years and by all outward appearances had a happy, productive marriage with each other. But Bellatrix's eternal love and true loyalty lay with another man. And Rodolphus had always been more concerned about his appearance, consolidating his family's wealth and, rumor had it, young boys. Despite the fact that their ultimate allegiances were not to each other, they got along quite well – a dark, twisted, yet successful partnership. And the one thing that they both agreed on completely was the supremacy of pure-blood wizards.

Rabastan Lestrange and Barty Crouch were twenty feet away from the married couple when they stopped and stood apart.

"We come bearing gifts!" yelled Barty, as he flicked his wand forward.

Alice Longbottom slid forward on the dusty floor as if pulled by an invisible rope. She slammed into the base of the cross, still groggy and unsure of her surroundings.

"Where the hell have you been?" snapped Bellatrix.

Rabastan answered by falling into step alongside his brother, but the young impetuous Barty Crouch didn't cower away.

"Fetching the bitch, instead of staying here and babysitting a zombie."

"What did you say?"

"You deaf Bellatrix? I said we were out doing a man's work, while you were playing wet nurse!"

"The Dark Lord is missing and already you're forgetting your place!" Bellatrix threw off her cloak and waved her hand across her face, her ice blue mask vanishing. Her wand flashed in her other hand, pointed directly at Barty. The bellicose Death Eater held his ground, eyeing the angry witch's wand.

Barty smiled wide. "Do it then!"

"Bellatrix that's enough," said Rodolphus as he stepped in between the two Death Eaters.

"Get out of the way you fool!" she spat.

Rodolphus did not answer her or meet her gaze, but he didn't move aside either. Bellatrix was breathing heavily, full of seething rage, they all were. The last two nights of continuous torture had yielded no results, and tempers were short. Bellatrix looked around and focused her rage on the only other woman in the room. She walked over to Alice and sliced off her bonds, leaned down and whispered…"Say hello."

Bellatrix stepped back and walked towards the other three Death Eaters. She casually flicked her wand behind her as she walked. The clasps holding Frank up on the cross glimmered bright and then disappeared. He fell towards the floor and smashed into his wife. Alice screamed in pain and pushed off the body on top of her. She tried standing, but was too weak and fell to a knee. She took a breath and glanced over to the group of Death Eaters.

"Where am I?" Alice gasped. "Where's Neville?" Her voice echoed all across the factory floor, silence the only reply. She slowly turned around and glanced at the man slumped on the ground behind her. He looked familiar…

"Where's my son?!"

Rabastan reached into his robes and pulled out a small bundle wrapped within velvet folds. The small child was sleeping comfortably, swaddled in the warm cloth. Alice started towards them, reaching out with her hands.

"Give him to me!" Alice screamed with a mother's passion. Her first and only child in the arms of an animal was too much to bear.

Bellatrix lazily flicked her wand and Alice was smacked by an invisible hand. She was thrown back and landed next to the body lying at the base of the cross, her headed bouncing horribly off the wood. Alice was exhausted and afraid, she could feel warm blood leaking down her back. Why hadn't I stayed at home? How could I have put my baby at risk?

She looked down at the broken body next to her. Another poor soul the Death Eaters had claimed. She touched his face, it felt…familiar. She brushed the man's hair across his face. No, it couldn't be, no…please God no.

The factory floor was filled with a horrific scream.

Glenn Townsend was late again for dinner, the missus was not going to be pleased. He had only meant to stop off for a quick pint with the lads, but one drink soon turned into four. He knew it was wrong to drink and drive, but who could be bothered to wait in the cold for a cab? Oh, come on, that was a shitty excuse, he just didn't want to leave his car overnight at the dodgy pub. And I ain't no nancy, could hold my liquor better than most of the slobs at the pub.

Plus I'm driving the long way home, past the old radio factory. That area was deserted, no other cars ever came that way. Creepy looking building, that old factory. The mayor keeps threatening to tear it down and build a new shopping center. He should, the damn factory was an eyesore, driving down property values.

A red streak flashed across the road and Glenn swerved the car to avoid it, spinning out onto the shoulder. Jesus, what was that? A comet? God, I'm seeing things. Glenn stepped off the brake and put the car back in drive – he promised himself that he would stop drinking so much…at least during the week.

Fawkes swooped low toward the towering old factory and landed on a thick branch of a large oak tree standing out front of it. His gleaming red feathers were streaked with magnificent gold, his eyes shone with intelligence. The long forgotten factory yard hadn't seen something so beautiful visit it in a long time.

Fawkes settled in on the branch and sat there, staring intently at the factory. He then shook his head, shivering, trembling, glowing a deep dark crimson red. He stretched his great big wings, and floated off the branch. Fawkes soared sky high and began circling the factory, round and round. Faster and faster. When Fawkes became a blinding red blur, there was a flash of fire and he was gone. A single red feather was the only single trace that he had ever been there, slowly floating down to Earth.

The second the feather hit the ground, five streaks of silver white flashed down from the sky. Albus Dumbledore stood in front of the factory, Alastor Moody and Dedalus Diggle to his right, Emmeline Vance and Remus Lupin to his left. The Order had arrived.

"Let's go," growled Moody. His wand was already at the ready and he wanted to charge in.

The rest of the Order members made to follow, but Dumbledore raised a hand of warning.

"Not so fast," Dumbledore calmly said. "We don't want to be rushing in just yet."

"The Longbottoms are in there Albus! We don't have time for tact," Moody urged.

"Yes I agree. Time is of the essence," concurred Diggle.

Moody and Diggle walked towards the factory, Dumbledore and his calm demeanor be damned.

"Take a few more steps and off goes the caterwauling charm. I wonder if Bellatrix will keep any prisoners alive when it goes off."

Dumbledore's words froze the men and they slowly backed away, lining up behind their leader. Dumbledore coolly stared out across the vacant yard in front of the factory. He was always so frustratingly composed, even on the very precipice of danger. The rest of the Order was getting restless, their friends were in there! What the hell as Dumbledore looking at? Beneath his nonchalant demeanor, Dumbledore's mind was a furious whirlwind of activity. He seemed to finally find what he had been searching for. He raised his wand, waved it around and muttered something under his breath.

A blueish mist slowly rose from the factory yard and soundlessly dissipated. Dumbledore then strode towards the factory with the rest of the Order falling in step behind him. Dumbledore stopped in front of a metal door, surveying it with interest.

"Well, what now? Another alarm?" asked Lupin.

"Not quite," answered Dumbledore. He stared hard at the door. "I must say, this is very interesting. Quite clever actually."

"It's a revolver, isn't it?" growled Moody.

Dumbledore nodded his head

"And what the hell is that?" asked Vance.

Moody looked towards Dumbledore, but the headmaster was more interested in running his hands over the door than giving a magic lesson.

"Only one wizard can go through the door at a time and each time it leads to a random place inside the building," replied Moody.

"Yes, that's correct," agreed Dumbledore. "We're all going to be separated, entering into arbitrary places within the warehouse. Be on your guard, don't trust anything you see in there. Saw Fawkes if you have to identify yourself to each other. Constant vigilance, right Alastor?"

Before Moody could reply, Dumbledore calmly opened the metal door and walked through.

"Crucio!"

"Where is he?!"

"Crucio!"

"Where have you taken Him?!"

"Crucio!"

Stream after stream of red light shot into Alice's body, wracking her with unimaginable pain. It had been over four straight hours of a steady diet of the cruciatus curse, and it had even become unbearable for some of the Death Eaters to endure. The Lestrange brothers were sitting off to the side watching the torture unfold – Bellatrix and Barty had plenty of evil stamina for them all. Frank was slumped in a corner, his brain addled and cracked. Neville had been placed by his father, bundled up in blankets. The baby had tears streaming down its face, its mouth opening and closing in cries, yet no sounds were emanating from the little boy.

"Maybe it's true then, maybe they don't know?" said Rabastan.

"The Dark Lord fell to a child?" replied Rodolphus.

"I don't know what happened, but these people don't know. No one stays quiet for this long!"

"So what do you propose we do? Let them go?"

Alice's renewed screams brought their eyes back up to her. She was hanging from the cross, in a twisted crucifixion pose. Her arms were bent at unnatural angles, torn clothes draped her body, blood slowly dripping down her chest. With each stream of red light her body tensed up in agony, her hoarse voice pleading for a respite. Bellatrix and Barty felt nothing, not a drop of remorse, even as they began to realize the Auror did not have any information on their Lord's whereabouts. If anything, the knowledge that Alice knew nothing angered them even more.

"Stop. Barty, I said stop!" screamed Bellatrix.

"Why? She deserves it. Filthy traitor to the pure-blood cause."

"Alice, hey Alice. Wakey-wakey." Bellatrix walked up the cross, swaying to avoid the dripping blood. She pointed her wand at the hanging Auror. "Aguamenti." A stream of water doused the Auror, but she was too far gone to truly waken from her pain stupor. Alice raised her eyes to meet Bellatrix's gaze, but there was no recognition there.

"Does the water feel good?" teased Barty.

"Alice, tell us where He is…." Bellatrix's eyes flicked towards Frank and Neville. "Tell us Alice!"

Bellatrix suddenly became hysterical – waving her wand threateningly at Neville.

"Or your son will take your place!"

Barty licked his lips in hungry anticipation, smiling gleefully, a hyena about to get a treat. Rabastan and Rodolphus looked at each and slowly got to their feet. Not to protect the child, but rather to get out of Bellatrix's way. Collateral damage was not something she gave much consideration to.

"Give me the child Rodolphus," Bellatrix yelled. She held her arms out. "Rabastan? Come on!"

The brothers stood rooted to where they were. Not shielding the small boy, but not quite ready to actively help harm him either.

"They don't got the stomach for it," sneered Barty.

"Accio child!" yelled Bellatrix. "Accio Neville!"

Everyone seemed to tense up, expecting the child to careen towards Bellatrix. However, nothing happened. The silence was punctuated by Alice's anguished sobs. Not for the imminent danger her child was now in, but due to the throbbing pain – for her mind was too far gone to comprehend anything…ever again.

"Accio! Accio child!" Spittle began flying out of Bellatrix's mouth, a deep rage enveloped her. "ACCIO!"

"Come now Bellatrix, summoning charms don't work on living things. My teachers taught you better than that," said a calm voice.

The four Death Eaters whirled around, panic ablaze in their faces. Automatically, unconsciously, masks appeared on their faces. They shed their robes, revealing tight fitting and light armor underneath. Their wands at the ready, though unsteady, at the unexpected sight of Dumbledore.

"My, my, haven't you four been busy." Dumbledore's voice was light, but spying Alice hanging on the cross…his demeanor hardened. He shed his robe, revealing close-fitting, silver plated vest and pants – magical armor.

"How did he get in here?"

"You shouldn't have come alone!"

"Take another step and we'll kill the child!"

Frank, Alice and Neville disappeared, reappearing behind Dumbledore at the far end of the factory – the large wooden cross now lying on the floor in front of them.

"You will not touch them anymore," said the angry headmaster. "Not tonight. Not ever."

"Enough!" screamed Bellatrix. "Take him!"

The four Death Eaters sprinted away from each other, four moving and attacking targets. Bellatrix and Barty moved towards their left, firing off spells towards the broken Longbottom family. Dumbledore ignored them, shifted to his left, focusing on the Lestrange brothers. Before the sadistic Death Eater spells could wreak havoc on the shattered family, the cross sprang to life. The wooden stickman stood before the family, absorbing the spells, wooden splinters flying everywhere.

Rabastan fired a spell towards Dumbledore, a red jet of light turning into a metallic spear. Dumbledore flicked his hand, and the spear dropped uselessly to the ground. Rodolphus brandished his wand like a whip – a spiked rope sprang from its tip. He twirled it over his head and cracked it down, towards the advancing Dumbledore. The spiked rope whipped through the air and slammed into the Dumbledore…no, rather, it went through him, as though he were a ghost. The rope shattered against the factory floor, splitting apart at the seams. Dumbledore kept advancing on the brothers, who were now stumbling backwards, fearful.

Bellatrix broke off from advancing on the Longbottoms and headed towards her husband. Barty kept racing towards the family, crazy yells coming from him. He continued firing spells that the wooden stick man kept absorbing, holes ripping throughout its wooden frame.

"Avada Kedvra!" screamed Barty.

The wooden stickman slapped down the spell, its right arm blown apart. It hopped in the air and slammed down onto Barty, pinning him to the floor, Barty's wand harmlessly clattering to the ground.

On the other side of the factory floor, Dumbledore was towering over the bloodied Lestrange brothers, their arms and legs lashed together by a silver rope. Behind Dumbledore came Bellatrix, a long knife in one hand, her wand in the other. She flung the knife at his back, waving her wand at her husband with her other hand.

Dumbledore spun away at the last moment, somehow sensing the flying knife. His concentration broken, the silver rope went slack, loosening its grip on the brothers. Rodolphus rolled away and up, wand at the ready. Rabastan pushed the now limp ropes off him and stood up – the twirling knife slammed into his chest, knocking him back down.

Bellatrix continued forward – "Incarcerous!" – thick ropes shot forward at Dumbledore. Rodophus clapped his hands together and screamed – fire shot forward from his wand like a missile.

Dumbledore moved with the speed of a younger man. He raised his left hand at the thick ropes and waved them aside. The ropes altered their direction and absorbed the fire missile. In a whirl he vanished, appeared behind Rodolphus, grabbed the Death Eater by his neck and flung him to the ground. As he stepped over Rodolphus he muttered, "Stay down", and flicked his wand at the fallen man. Rodolphus tried to get back up but froze, a statue trapped in an unheard scream.

Dumbledore now advanced on Bellatrix, who was frantically backpedalling, firing of spells indiscriminatingly. She looked around, searching for an escape – Barty was howling in fury, trapped under the wooden stickman – Rabastan wasn't stirring, a long knife protruding from his chest – Rodolphus was frozen to the cold factory floor.

Dumbledore was flicking away her spells with lazy flicks of the wand, advancing menacingly.

"Stay away from me!" she screamed, continuing to fire away. Her blocked spells were slamming into the walls and roof, tearing apart the factory room. Bellatrix pointed her wand at some copper pipes lying in a corner. They shot off towards Dumbledore, and Bellatrix turned around and ran towards the Longbottoms. I can use them as a shield!

She ran as hard as she could, sprinting, her legs screaming with fire…but she didn't seem to be moving. Her legs churning hard, running in place. She stopped sprinting, and slowly turned around. Dumbledore was standing right behind her, so close she could see the pores on his sweating face, the ridges on his crooked nose, taste his angry breath. And then…Bellatrix's world went dark.