Thanks to: laceyowns50, Guest, SiriusSunday and Colin Creevey for reviewing!

Questions:

Where does he (Varanian) go when he's not at Grey locations? Is he just at other places where the characters are not or does he do something else?
Where he goes varies. Varanian's a loner, he likes solitude and does his best thinking in solitude so going off alone is pretty normal for him, Michael just blames him for Annie's death so is being especially critical as well. Varanian's also grieving and wants to be alone to do so without being questioned about a billion other things, he's also kind of afraid being around people after blowing up half the house when Michael yelled at him because he knows he's not particularly stable right now. Sometimes he goes to Jack/One, sometimes he's scouting for new bases or old Shadow areas, sometimes he's working on things, sometimes he's researching ideas, sometimes he's just trying to think, sometimes he's just grieving and trying to cope with his own emotions with the weight of the world on his back

How long it'll be before Varanian's baby is healthy enough to be discharged from hospital, if it'll be well enough to be discharged from hospital?
He'll be allowed to go when he's able to do certain things by himself (like breathe for example) which is usually around the time they should've been born (September 5th) but obviously it can vary and depends on the baby or if there's any complications. So he'd be discharged in about two months if all goes well, the earliest would be late August

What month is the story in now?
July, the current date in story is Friday July 3rd 2024

What did Harry expect Arnett to do to save the prison? Like- do what? Can Harry do better? Or is this basically a case of a freak in power demanding his subordinates do better when even he can't do it, and he's demanding the impossible?
Firstly Harry wasn't mad he didn't save the prison he was mad that he 'lost sight of it' which he thought shouldn't have been that hard so the answer is a bit of both, Harry is being a bit unfair but keeping sight of the prison is a more reasonable request then saving it

Lawson pulled himself to his feet with the support of the surrounding rubble, pain shooting through his stomach wound. The fall hadn't helped his failing health, he really needed healing. Sighing, he began ambling weakly off in the direction of the screaming, he thought he should at least find out what it was he should be potentially running from. He had some ideas.

He made his way through the rubble, not feeling up to climbing anymore so was forced to around and look up to try see what he was missing. There was a large industrial cooling tower embedded nearby or at least a large enough chunk of it to serve as a kind of ramp for him to climb, he walked up it and finally got a look at the scene. He'd found the New Azkaban prisoners.

There were a couple hundred of them which was in line with how many prisoners there had been, their mangled bodies moved like puppets and all in the same striped rags Lawson wore. They were thankfully moving away from him but the people they were headed towards were probably not so thankful, it looked like the Ministry had been trying to set up some kind of checkpoint if the trampled tent and assortment of people gathered was anything to go by.

There were even some wizards, he could make out the Magical Patrol uniforms even from this distance but they were no Aurors, they didn't seem to know how to deal with Inferi. A couple of them were trying vainly to keep the herd back with fire but he'd seen muggle flamethrowers with more flames, bravely putting themselves in between the dead and the ragged muggles who fled screaming. Or tried to flee, the Inferi were grabbing at them as they ran, ripping off flailing arms and tearing through whatever part of them they could get a hold of. More Magical Patrol - who maybe didn't know the fire - were trying to help the ones being hurt, seemingly with little success.

"How did they not notice them?" Whit wondered in morbid shock, "Surely they would see them before they got this close?"

"Probably the same reason we didn't," Lawson admitted thoughtfully, the remains of his stomach churning uncomfortably, "I think they might've been cloaked, the Shadow Master probably put some kind of Disillusionment or straight up Invisibility on them so they wouldn't be noticed until it was too late. Latimer was right, seems like she had something planned."

"Maybe that's why she attacked him," Whit added as Lawson shuddered from the cold, "Didn't want him figuring it out before she could enact it."

"Maybe," Lawson muttered, getting the feeling he was missing something, "What I don't get is why, I mean attacking him proves she can just use the dead underground so why specifically the prisoners?"

"Who knows? I mean, doesn't she have some kind of grudge against prisons? That's why we were in New Azkaban not actual Azkaban in the first place, it's probably just that."

"Maybe… I-"

Lawson was distracted by what sounded like firecrackers but in actuality was help apparating in, presumably someone else had already gone to get help. He felt a short stab of panic as he recognized Auror robes, some Hit Wizards too but Aurors were the ones to fear. They blasted back at the Inferi with a frightful inferno that made the Magical Patrol's attempts look like candlelight in comparison, the Magical Patrol he also realized had been overcome while he'd been thinking.

"You know what this means, right?" Whit taunted smugly, making him jump as she breathed into his ear, "They're going to kill you now, fry you to crisp and claim you were just another Inferius. No one's going to know the difference."

"No!" Lawson whinged at her fearfully, backing up, "Not like this, not after I've come so far and I'm so… close."

"Close to the edge," Whit provided and Lawson had half a second to realize she was right before he was falling again.

Snap!

He tumbled painfully down, sure the bruises of his bruises would now have bruises. He struggled back to his feet when he stopped, putting a hand to his still throbbing head and finding a fresh cut. It didn't hurt enough for his skull to have cracked though, the headache he'd had since the torture was far worse. His stomach was a pit of agony but despite the rest of his body aching, nothing felt like broken so… what was that sound? It wasn't apparation and it had definitely come from him.

"The wand," Whit state and Lawson raised his other hand, seeing the Auror's acquired wand had indeed snapped clean in half.

"Great," Lawson sighed unhappily and tossed the useless stick into the ruin, not that it'd be much use anyway he supposed anyway. He wrapped his arms around his injured stomach protectively and just focused on putting one foot in front of the other again, trying not to fall again and to move in a direction that didn't sound like Aurors fighting Inferi, "Come on, we got to keep moving."

"There is no 'we,'" Whit pointed out as he kept on walking, "I'm just a hallucination."

"Can't you just humor me? I'm not going to last for much longer anyway."

"No."

Michael apparated apprehensively back to where he and Latimer had been attacked, he'd stabilized his friend and left him with Tabitha who had conveniently arrived while Ron had been helping him by transfiguring another bed for Latimer. He'd restocked his supplies and returned against his better judgement to keep his promise, he hoped Lawson would be alright with taking him back to the tent before so they'd be safer before he looked at him. He wanted to warn Harry about the Inferius attack as well to be on his guard, Ron had said he'd pass the message on but Michael wasn't sure how fast their communication method went.

"Lawson!" Michael called out as he materialized and held out his arms, feeling mildly smug at having proven himself right, "I'm back! I told you so!"

Silence.

Michael scowled and started looking around, seeing nothing but miles of rubble and not Lawson. Surely he hadn't decided not to wait? Why would anyone do that when he'd just promised he'd come back?! He was sure the guy had a head injury. Had something happened to him? It was impossible to tell if there'd been a scuffle in a place already destroyed but he didn't see a body, except the charred lump of Inferius. Had he just apparated? Michael assumed if he could he would have already done so.

He walked around in circles for a few minutes, he didn't see him even though he was quite sure he couldn't have gotten far. Heaving a heavy sigh, he pinched the bridge of his nose. It was far too early in the morning to be dealing with this. Aside from not particularly wanting to stay in an area possibly with more Inferi – he'd be dead without Latimer, he'd taken one look at that thing and been too buried back in his nightmares to do anything – to look for a random stranger who was kind of shady despite being helpful once, he had absolutely no idea where to even start looking. Ruin stretched out in every direction, Lawson could have gone absolutely anywhere.

"Goddammit," Michael muttered irritably, scouring the area one last time to look for sign of him. Seeing nothing again, he kicked at a random stone in frustration and immediately regretted it as it was apparently more embedded in the ground then he thought and it hurt, "Fuck you, rock."

Seeing no other choice but surrender, he apparated back to the entrance point. Maybe someone from the Ministry would know how to find him, after all he was an inmate of theirs that they'd want to recapture. In fact, Michael wondered if maybe it had been a dumb idea to leave a random criminal alone and unattended. He could have unleashed a serial killer or pedophile or something, suddenly he regretted not asking Lawson what he was supposed to be in prison for but he'd been kind of focused on saving Latimer at the time. He spotted Harry and started to walk towards him, feeling less tempted to mention Lawson with each step. What if he got in trouble for having left him unattended? If he did, could it jeopardize the alliance?

"Hey Harry," Michael greeted him more timidly than usual, noticing he looked frantic the he had earlier, "Did you get-"

"I got the message, yes," Harry cut him off, scowling deeply, "I knew already about the Inferi though."

"You did?" Michael wondered in surprise.

"Yeah, one of the checkpoints the Ministry were setting up was attacked by a hoard of them," Harry explained grimly, putting a hand on his shoulder and disapparating them. The second they reappeared, Michael's nose was assaulted by the smell of smoke and death, "We know what became of the prisoners."

Michael blinked and in the next instant felt his heart seize up inside his chest again, there were hundreds of Inferi before them being contained behind a wall of fire held up by rows of mostly Aurors. They were all garbed in the same striped outfit Lawson had had and looked unusually mangled compared to the ones from Hogwarts, he didn't even have to remember as images from that were already bleeding through to reality. He really couldn't breathe.

"Michael? Are you okay? You've gone very pale," Harry asked him, his voice suddenly sounding a thousand miles away, "There were a lot more casualties then I would've liked but we have it under control now."

"I… need… air…" Michael managed to get out, looking around for somewhere to go and apparating as he did so to the first pile of rubble distinct enough to go to.

He stumbled and immediately fell to his knees, heaving the alcohol he'd had last night onto shards of a broken window. His whole body was shaking violently as he squeezed his eyes shut from the memories of Inferi tearing through his friends, Rose's screams echoed from far away so he put his hands over his ears, he could still feel their blood running between his fingers.

Goawaygoawaygoawaygoawaygoawaygoawaygoaway, his mind urged the memories as he tried to force himself to breathe, managing only short burst. His heart pounded inside his chest and he felt like his head had caught fire, despite the cold beads of sweat he could feel rolling down. He focused on trying to breathe, trying to push aside the memories and just focus on breathing in and out, attempting to take deep calm breaths and ignore the past trying to escape his mind.

After what felt like an eternity but was probably some indeterminate amount of minutes, the memories retreated back to the past and the episode passed. He knelt there for a moment, continuing to let himself breathe while the wave of misery crashed against him. Why did this keep happening to him? Why was he so weak? What he wouldn't give for a drink.

Michael forced himself to his feet, the taste of vomit still rolling around the inside of his mouth. He took a good look around the area he'd escaped to, virtually indistinguishable from every other section of this ruin. At least he couldn't see the Inferi from here- He couldn't even finish the thought, noticing one ambling along away from him. His heart started to pick up speed before it occurred to him the figure looked frail and was moving in a very human way, hunched over clutching its stomach and stumbling along with an odd but distinctly alive and pained gait.

"Lawson?!" Michael called out, almost in disbelief, to the prisoner with a newly familiar mop of dull dark hair, "Lawson! Hey Lawson!"

He started to move towards the figure, waving his arms and slowly it turned. There was no mistaking the fact it was Lawson, he had one slate gray eye but the other was very distinctly fucked. It was bloodshot with the pupil and iris having merged into one pale blue orb, like a disk floating on a sea of lava and the burn scars scattered around it all was like the eye had been splashed with some kind of acid at some point. His face was gaunt – Michael wasn't sure if this was just because of how frightfully thin he was - and very pale, looking worryingly more ashen now then but still framed by wavy black hair.

"Chimael?" Lawson wondered in that… odd way he spoke, perfectly perplexed as Michael approached him more confidently.

"I told you I'd come back," Michael reiterated in exasperation.

Lawson trudged on weakly, clutching at his wound and just trying to focus on just putting one foot in front of the other. He could feel his strength fading and the pain gaining with every single step, the spell he'd cast to buy him time had also inadvertently numbed it a little so he knew it was failing and with that he would resume bleeding to death internally. He shivered, feeling the cold crawling around inside of him, dying was colder than people mentioned.

"Ready to give up and die yet?" Whit's voice asked cheerfully into his left ear.

"No," Lawson insisted, barely managing to stay upright as he stumbled.

"And you know what's waiting for you, right?" his stepfather's voice hissed in his ear and Lawson recoiled fearfully, also hearing the scrape of the spiked bat dragging along the stone.

"Not yet," Lawson pleaded, shaking his head vigorously.

"What are you waiting for?" he sneered and Lawson felt him shove his shoulder, causing him to stagger and fall to his knees, "Give up, you piece of shit."

"Leave me alone," Lawson whimpered, forcing himself unsteadily back to his feet and continuing to plod along.

"You are alone," Whit pointed out.

"Always were, always will be," his stepfather added.

"Surely you can't still expect to find help? You're not even looking up anymore, you wouldn't see anyone."

"That's because you're weak," his stepfather spat in his ear and Lawson jolted in fear, tripping and falling again.

"It's no surprise that no one ever loved you," Whit agreed as Lawson pushed himself back to his feet, "Just give up and die already."

Lawson opened his mouth to make a retort but closed it again, he was running out of energy to argue with his own hallucinations. He just kept on walking, he was going to walk until he dropped or ran into people. He was pretty sure he was going to die by now though, he could pretty much hear Death calling his name already… Wait, was someone literally calling his name right now? He turned in confusion.

"Chimael?" Lawson wondered, unsure if he was real or not as the tall Healer approached.

"I told you I'd come back," Michael reiterated his lie.

"You didn't," Lawson snorted disbelievingly, "This isn'th back, it's some sother place."

"Well when I went back to the other place you weren't there!"

"Of course I wasrn't, I knew you wouldn't come back!"

"But I did come back!" Michael shrieked, sounding very exasperated, "You would know that if you'd actually waited!"

"Why wait whent I know you're not coming back?!" Lawson wondered equally incredulously.

"Because I did come back!"

"But you didn't! You're not here, you're there!"

"Only because you didn't wait for me there!"

"You didn't come back so swhy would I wait?!"

"Because I did come- ARGH! What the fuck is wrong with you?! You have the most backwards fucking logic of anyone I ever-" Michael yelled angrily, throwing up his arms until Lawson felt his legs buckling, his strength sapped from arguing. The Healer grabbed him before he could fully hit the ground, darkness was choking at his vision again, "Whoa! Okay, do you want my help or not?"

"Kay-yo," Lawson muttered weakly as Michael helped him to lie down on his back, whipping out his wand and starting to run some diagnostic spells.

"You have a lot of old injuries," Michael pointed out the obvious, his tone still bitter from the argument he'd lost, "What happened? Daddy play too rough?"

"Stepdaddy," Lawson corrected and for some reason Michael jolted, looking oddly shaken before going back to what he was doing. He opened his mouth to query the odd reaction but he'd already moved on, his expression switching to one of shock.

"How- How are you even walking around right now?"

"I'n mot," Lawson answered truthfully, he was lying on the ground but Michael threw him a scowl anyway.

"You know what I mean," Michael growled, pushing up his shirt to get to bandages, "This is serious, it must be painful. You could die."

"I'm don't known," Lawson muttered and tried to shrug, shivering as Michael took off the bandages and exposed his stomach to the early icy breeze, "If I was an animinagius, I know dI'd be a cockroach."

"I could believe that," Michael agreed in a grunt, waving his wand over it and frowning, "Why- Why is everything twisted?"

"Cuz they'd twisted the bweam, duh," Lawson explained what he thought should be an obvious answer and Michael sighed, moving his wand back and it occurred to him why before the Healer continued.

"I'm going to need untwist everything before I can heal anything," Michael explained, rummaging around in his medical kit and taking out a Pain Relief Potion, "You're going to need to take this."

"No!" Lawson barked, lifting his head up just to shake it.

"It's going to hurt a lot-"

"I daid no!"

"Are you allergic?"

"No."

"Then why-"

"Stot wasting time, just do it," Lawson told him irritably, drawing his legs up so they were bent and flexing his hands to try brace himself. Michael sighed but put the vial back down regardless, much to his relief.

"This is probably going to hurt a lot, are you sure?"

"Yes. Who sasks for persimmision febrore hurting you?"

"Okay," Michael breathed and flicked his wand, Lawson screamed as he felt his insides twist so painfully he swore he saw stars for a second and his breathing became ragged. He closed his eyes and looked away, flexing his hands again, "Sorry, you're the one who didn't pain relief though. Try to take deep breaths, Lawson."

"You tape deek breaths," Lawson mumbled and screamed again as another wave of agony tore through him, he struggled to breathe through it, "Oh fuck..."

"You're doing great," Michael told him reassuringly but another wave of pain didn't come, Lawson tried to flick his eyes back open and saw Michael still pouring over the wound with a look of concentration, "So what were you in prison for anyway?"

"Probuction and distridution of illegal substantces," Lawson reeled off the official sentence readily, letting his eyes close as he tried to focus on breathing better, "And negligent homicide for the death of daughther."

"And… that means?"

"I was a drug dealer and my daughter died."

"Wizards have drugs?" Michael wondered, sounding surprised and Lawson scowled as his eyes snapped open.

"Yeah," Lawson confirmed in confusion while Michael was rifling through his medical kit, "How have you heen a Healer and not come crossed with any magic drugs?"

"Well technically I'm just a Healer in training, I'm only seventeen."

"What?!" Lawson shrieked so forcefully in shock it aggravated his stomach, he put his hands over his face in despair that after all that he was going to die at the hands of an amateur.

"Come on, you need to drink this," Michael insisted and Lawson lowered his hands, almost attempted to irrationally refuse but he saw it was Regenerative Potion which he needed so took it, "I've fixed enough that it should start to help."

"Why is a kid here anyway doing a Healer hobs?" Lawson questioned as he took the potion, shuddering from the tremors of pain while Michael had already gone back to pouring over the wound.

"Because I'm Gray."

"You're rot Gray," Lawson gave a derisive snort as the world started to whirl unhelpfully around him, he closed his eyes to make it stop, "They would… They'd never would waste time staving me, theirs busy with the heroes stuff."

"You'd be surprised," Michael muttered and Lawson tried to open his eyes but everything was spinning, he still needed to stay awake but the potion was making him feel very dizzy unless he kept them closed. It was a fairly common side effect if he recalled correctly, there wasn't anything to do about it, "So how'd you get out of the prison anyway?"

"Stong lory."

"Because the other prisoners… they…"

"Inferi."

"What? How'd you know that?!" Michael demanded, starting in shock.

"Sawt," Lawson admitted and heard Michael give an exasperated sigh, how else would he have expected him to know it that except for seeing it? Though speaking of the prisoners did make him think of something, "Whag are you going to do with me anway?"

"I'm stabilizing you so I can apparate you to safety, I could really use another Healer to help and you can't work on yourself."

"Anthen?"

"I don't know, you'll be turned back over to the Aurors I guess."

"No!" Lawson protested in panic, snapping his eyes back open despite the whirl of dizziness of caused, "Youc- You can't!"

"C'mon, I can't just-"

"No! You don't dunderstand, they're going to kill me!" Lawson insisted and Michael sighed heavily, his expression riddled with doubt, "How'd you think that I got hurth? It was the Aurors, they want me to die."

"You really expect me to believe that?" Michael scoffed and Lawson nodded his head vigorously, regretting it as it made his head spin so badly he feared throwing up for a second, "Why would the Aurors want to kill you?"

"So I woultn't tell anyone that they were abadoning the prison! Even though I thold them I wouldn't…" Lawson tried to explain, having to close against the dizziness and recalled everything very vividly, "I was tortured so I wasn't there, theg guard gave me the wand-"

"Wait, back up. Who tortured you? The Aurors?"

"Yes!"

"Okay," Michael said with an obvious air of disbelief and Lawson opened his eyes again to see just that, "So you really expect me to believe that the Aurors were torturing you then they said they were going to abandon the prison so they stabbed you? That doesn't make any sense."

"No, I was toratured and then the guard that was a muggles took me to get his families and then we came back and they becided to abadon the prison so they tried to kill me," Lawson told him but Michael continued to look incredibly skeptical, he'd even stopped healing him to meet his eyes, "Plead, they're going to kill me. They can jusc say I was an Inferi and burned me and no one is know, they'll kill me even nore mow that I'm the only lone."

"Your explanation makes no sense, why would the Aurors even do all that?"

"Cuz they think people that have the nightnares are Shadows," Lawson informed him and saw Michael pinch the bridge of his nose, he resisted the urge to close his eyes against the churning in the skies, "Why'd would I lie?"

"Why wouldn't you lie?" Michael countered, going back to healing him and Lawson supposed he had a point… "What do you even expect me to do? I-"

"Waic! I can prove it!" Lawson realized, grabbing Michael's arm to draw his attention back, "Ask them- Ask them the Aurors-"

"They're not going to agree with what you say even if you are telling the truth."

"No, you ask them to heal. I can heal but they can'th, they don't know that how to heal. I treathed this Auror with the cracked kull, they didn't know to fix it but I did so I stalabized him and healed the crack but they don't know how," Lawson tried to explain, his stomach was now churning like the sky and he saw Michael's expression grow stony, "I also healed the brokened arm of the muggle's wife, check and you'll see but they don't know how, they don't even know that she was broken arm. Or the cuth on the baby, none of them know thath the baby had a cub or how found that baby. You can know that, stagic mill knows. It knows thak… It…"

"Lawson?"

He couldn't respond to Michael's query but was busy as he Lawson tried to turn onto his side, the nausea winning and he felt his stomach twist in an agonizing way as he wretched up some blood and potion. He heard Michael curse and felt himself pushed to lie on his back again, he couldn't see it though as his eyes had already closed at some point. He tried to take deep breaths but it was hard to notice anything but the pain twisted up inside him, his head also continued to hurt and the cold was in his bones now.

He thought Michael was calling his name but it was so far away, he knew he was crashing and he could feel himself falling, falling into a void of darkness. He tried to grab onto to something, to anything to stop himself from falling into the nothingness but he'd forgotten what he'd even been using to stay conscious this whole time. He didn't even know why he'd fought it, the pain and the cold were getting further and further away the more he fell into the dark…

Lawson didn't remember hitting the ground but he was quite sure he was lying there, he opened his eyes and clouds covering every inch of the sky. He was surprisingly comfortable considering he was sure he hadn't been before, he was warm – he didn't even remember the last time he'd felt so warm - and whatever he was lying on was soft. He sat up curiously and found himself in the middle of a field, instead of the ruin he'd become familiar with he saw only grass. Strange grass at that, it was bizarre white grass. Suddenly he had a bad feeling.

He got his feet nervously, noticing he was wearing a white robe and seeing his hands were no longer scarred, if he still had that gaping hole in his stomach then it wasn't hurting anymore. For some inexplicable reason, his head still was though but nothing else hurt. He looked around, seeing the white blades of grass stretching out as far as he could see in every direction and swaying gently against a breeze he couldn't feel. This couldn't be real, nowhere was like this. Was he dreaming? He pinched himself quickly but… nothing happened, not a dream. But if not a dream then… death? Was he dead? Had he really died?

"No, this isn't right. I belong in the bad place," Lawson insisted, feeling increasingly distraught at how calm it was here and then he noticed something else that immediately captured the entirety of his attention, "Whit? Sly?"

He ran towards them without hesitation, seeing them standing perfectly still against the backdrop of swirling clouds. He stopped just a few feet in front of them, both were dressed in white just like him. Lawson raised his hand to reach out to them but felt his fingers touch a barrier and a translucent white film sprang up where he'd touched, it stretched as far as he could see left and right as well as up into the sky. He couldn't get to them.

"Is this real?" Lawson asked, feeling his heart catch in his throat. He lowered his hand, seeing Whit tuck her hair back behind her ears, "Is… Is that really you? Not a hallucination? Not a dream?"

Neither said anything, nor did they move from where they stood but very slowly they smiled. He saw a sad, solemn smile stretch across both of their faces. He gazed at them a moment, feeling his heart ache and tears pricking at the backs of his eyes. He opened and closed his mouth, not sure where to begin but the pair had both started to turn.

"Wait!" Lawson called after them, panicking as they started to walk away, "Don't go! Please, don't go! I don't want you to go! Not yet!"

He reached out to the barrier again, fighting back tears as he rested his hand on it. Beyond the film, he saw them both stop in place. Slowly Whit turned back to him, Sly did more of a half turn. He was further away than she was, calmly they shook their heads.

"C- Can't you at least let me tell you how sorry I am first?" Lawson pleaded as he tried to force the words through the lump in his throat, he could feel the tears roll down his cheeks as he hung his head, "I didn't want you to die, Whit, I never meant for you to die. I wasn't there and I should've been, if I had then I could have saved you and you'd still be alive. I should have never left you alone with her, I'm sorry. Whit, I'm so sorry."

Lawson fell to his knees, burying his face in his hands as his words crumbled into crying. He rocked back and forth, sobbing brokenly. He tried to stop to see them one more time, they'd walked away and were just distant dots on the horizon, black silhouettes walking hand in hand towards the brightest white sunlight. He had to hold his arms up to shield his eyes it was so bright, it was burning, literally he could see the burns creeping across his skin.

"You knew you were never going to the good place," his stepfather's voice sneered from below him…?

Lawson looked down, just in time to see scabbed decaying hands breaking through the frosty grass to grab him. He screamed, trying to pull himself free tom the vicelike grip on his wrist but to no avail and in the next second he was being dragged underground, into the dark, with the ground weighing down upon and trying to smother him.

"NO! NO! NO! NO! NO!" Lawson screamed hysterically, terror shooting through every fiber of his being, "NO! NO! NO!"

"Lawson, wake up! You're having a nightmare!" a voice called and Lawson jolted upright in an instant, hyperventilating and trying to yank his arm free of his stepdad but found it was actually just a handcuff anchoring him to a bed? Pain lanced through his stomach again and he tried to look around, still breathing heavily as he managed to gauge he was in some kind of room with other beds of people before Michael pushed him back down onto the bed, "Holy shit, stop moving or you're going to tear open your stomach again!"

"Wha- I don- Wher- I-" Lawson stammered out frantically, had that been just a dream? He wasn't dead? He wiped at his eyes with his free hand, trying to sit up again but Michael forced him back down. His head was hurting too, so much for pinching waking you up from dreams, "I don't under-"

"Relax, okay? You're safe as long as you stay down and stop freaking out," Michael reassured him and Lawson started to relax a little, he guessed he must've just passed out? "You're with Gray now."

"I'm- Wai- What?!"

Harry wasn't sure where Michael had gotten to, the kid had blanched then immediately taken off and he hadn't seen him since. In hindsight he thought maybe he shouldn't have been so quick to show him the Inferi but he wouldn't have expected him to be there if he had an issue, he also sometimes found it hard to remember that Michael was in the same year as his own son. Granted, he also hadn't had that much time to look with everything going on.

They'd dealt with the situation and neutralized the Inferi threat, initial counts put the Inferi total roughly in line with the number of prisoners if you took out the Shadow spies. He'd be lying if he said he was sorry the prisoners had been killed and turned into puppets instead of normal innocent people but despite it being economically better for them to have no prisoners, he still wasn't happy about it and remained pissed at Arnett for losing sight of the prison. They'd deserved better than that, he was supposed to keep them locked up but he was also responsible for protecting them while they were in their custody so in that sense he'd failed them. It wasn't a good feeling, in a way it being better for them made it worse.

They had lost a few handling the Inferi threat but the vast majority of deaths had come from the initial attack, according to reports they'd been invisible or cloaked or something before they were already on the checkpoint and by then it was too late. The whole situation could've been a lot worse and overall he was proud of his people for the fast and efficient response, he had to think of the positive. The other checkpoints had been set up fine but he'd still called in more Aurors than usual, having them put anti-reanimation charms on the dead as a precaution and having a few guard them. He thought they were out of the woods though, the Shadow Master was known to hate prisons so using the prisoners in particular as the Inferi was almost certainly a calculated move.

Harry froze, out of nowhere his ears were greeted by a cacophony of screaming. He looked back at the Aurors standing guard at the tent and saw they were on the ground, for a second wondering why until he noticed the bloody hands sticking out of their bodies as Inferi started to pull themselves out of the ground. Not just the Aurors either, the tent already had Inferi tearing through it from the inside and people trying to flee were being grabbed by more hands popping out from the rubble to grab pull them down for a second hand to punch through their throat or chest.

His mouth was hanging open before he realized it, his knowledge of Dark Magic telling him this was not possible, you couldn't reanimate the dead while they were underground. Another bitterly miserable part of his mind pointed out that this was the Shadow Master, she didn't play by the rules.

He turned on the spot, apparating to the most Auror-heavy checkpoint to get help and was horrified to see the same situation occurring. He went to the next one, and the next, and the next, each and every single one befallen by the same shocking attack though oddly nothing had tried to attack him yet.

"Harry… Potter..." a disjointed voice called at the last one, a breathy rasping voice that sent a chill straight to his heart as he turned to it.

It was one of the broken emaciated bodies of the Inferius, its arms already soaking in the blood of innocents. It raised its bloody arm to the sky and Harry realized it was pointing, pointing to the twisting skeletal snake symbol with its forked tongue sticking out menacingly. The Shadow Mark. It stood black against the sun behind it, forcing the light to an impasse. And below it, Harry saw words:

YOU GO AFTER MY PEOPLE, HARRY POTTER, I GO AFTER YOURS

THERE WILL BE NO PRISONS IN MY WORLD

REMEMBER THIS WELL