CHAPTER 52: Year's End (Part 1)

Grimmauld Place

December 31st, 1995

7:00 p.m.

As he landed on the porch to Grimmauld Place, Remus immediately sought out the railing on the stairs and steadied himself. Less than a week away from the full moon, and his body was feeling it. He felt dehydrated, pale, and with the most recent apparition, nauseous. A slight inconvenience compared to what would come over the next week, bearable yet noticeable.

The manor was empty. With the myriad of New Year's Balls that were happening tonight, it wasn't a surprise everyone was in their respective homes, putting on their dress robes and jewellery to prepare for a long and arduous night in his book. Balls and other events of the sort were never his favourite, too many people and the expectations of speaking to all of them. He would much rather spend his New Year's Eve alone, reading a book by the fire while drinking hot cocoa. He would have never believed it was something people enjoyed if he hadn't met James.

The absence of the Weasleys was surprising, as they had taken to living within the Headquarters ever since Arthur was attacked. The poor man still hadn't been released from the hospital, though he eventually managed to convince Molly and his two older sons to stop staying at St Mungo's overnight. The absence of everyone else, however, wasn't as surprising.

Most members had averted the manor ever since that night. Some, like Mundungus, grew concerned that Harry might escape at night and slaughter anyone in his path. Opportunistic filth Mundungus was, Remus didn't expect anything else from the man. The others… they didn't avert the place because of Harry… but because of them.

The four of them had become outcasts within the Order after what they did that night. But with Sirius expelled from the order and the manor as a whole, and Augusta irrevocably unconcerned with the whole situation, the brunt fell with him and Nymphadora. "I was just trying to protect Sirius," she had told Elphias Doge and Hestia Jones when they confronted her. "You haven't seen what Potter is capable of. If we had hesitated, even for a second, he could have very well killed Sirius and Remus."

"And that justifies breaking the boy's wand?"

"NO! Of course not. I- we- I never expected Sirius to do that!"

She had been marred with guilt ever since that night. Her eyes red and swollen, with deep purple bags under her eyes. The talkative and extroverted young woman turned quiet and dispirited over the past week, it was almost like her very soul had been sucked out of her. Even missing the last meeting of the Order that took place two nights ago, he doubted she had left her own home in that time.

He would be lying if he said he had not withdrawn into himself as well. He'd only been back at Grimmauld Place for the subsequent meetings. He stuck to the shadows, though, not speaking a word and keeping his head down as he tried to ignore the glares. For a moment, he wondered if this is how Snape had felt during all those previous meetings.

It was hard sticking at Shadowfield either. He couldn't bare to look at Sirius in the face anymore, all he saw when he did was that disfigured snarl he had as he tossed Harry down the stairs and snapped his wand. All he felt was the shame of standing by as he did so. There was a difference between holding the boy to make sure he didn't fight back against Sirius, or worse, reach for his wand and start launching curses at the lot of them, and doing nothing as he let Sirius throw his face into the dirt and then destroy the only thing that would ever allow him to do magic.

But even worse than looking at Sirius was looking at Hermione. His most brightest student, one who kept his secret, even from her friends after he'd explained what would happen if people knew. She had nothing for contempt towards him and Sirius, looking at them as though they were entirely different people to the ones she lived with during the summer. A clear disappointment with a hint of pity. He'd taught her for a full year at Hogwarts, spent the previous summer with her, and had lived for nearly six months with her parents. And everything he'd built with her in that time had been shattered so quickly.

Thankfully, her parents didn't know what happened, didn't realise what he and Sirius had done. And though he was glad he couldn't see that same scorn in their eyes, he couldn't bring himself to stay in that house and act as if nothing had happened. Even after Hermione returned to Hogwarts, he didn't know how he would manage to return and look at the Grangers in the eyes again.

"Lupin!" A voice barked from the kitchen. Letting out a sigh, he walked across the deserted hall and into the kitchen.

"Alastor," he said tiredly. "I didn't expect you here."

"With Albus gone for his… New Year's ritual," the words were filled with disdain. Everyone knew of Albus' ritual, it was an open secret within the Order and most of the important people in the Wizarding World. And though people questioned it, even regarded it with a hint of wariness, no one could really stop him from carrying him out. Then again, it was probably a good thing for an annual visit to Nurmengard to be conducted, even if just to make sure the wards still held. "Someone has to man the fort. Besides… if I'm not here to take care of Potter, who is? Can't have Sirius sneak in again, can we?"

"I didn't know he would-"

Alastor grunted, grabbing his staff from the wall it was leaning on and limping across the room. "And you mean to tell me you aren't here to harass the boy?"

"You know what he did, Alastor."

"Aye."

"Then how can you stand there and act as if you wouldn't do the same?"

"The same?" He growled. "A light beating and a few nights in a cell may not have been unwarranted, but you snapped the poor bastard's wand. And now you mean to torment the boy after you've taken everything from him."

"He took everything from me as well," he screamed, his voice strangled as he did. "And even then, if I had known Sirius was going to do such a thing, I would have stopped him. Because I'm not looking to torment Harry, I don't want to gloat or to mock him. But after what he did to me, I deserve answers. I deserve to know why the son of one of my best friends, a student with whom I shared my life with, opened myself up to him, could destroy my life in such a careless and heartless manner."

"Five minutes," Alastor gritted out. "Not a second longer, Lupin."

He nodded curtly, watching Alastor limp out of the room while muttering and shaking his head. The man had long turned unhinged, decades of fighting the worst of the worst had not just turned him into an efficient killer, but like Sirius, it had taken a toll on him. Though not nearly as much. Still, he'd been an avid defender of Harry during the myriad of times he'd come up into the conversation. It wasn't hard to see why he did.

The door to the cellar creaked open as he walked across the threshold separating the old Grimmauld Place and the remodelled one. Everything Sirius had abhorred, all that his family treasured, had been dumped into the room. Old reliques and portraits, anything tying the manor to its dark past, thrown away without care or respect. And among those sat Harry, locked away in the cell that had been reserved for whoever Sirius' forefathers decided deserved to be there.

The irony hadn't been lost on him when he and Sirius had discussed placing Harry in that cell, but seeing him now - a pathetic mess on the floor, filthy and utterly despondent - it was hard justifying to himself that he deserved it. He had never looked so small.

"Hello, Professor," he said hollowly, not even meeting his eye. "Last time I saw you, you held me down and let a madman beat over me."

"And the time before that, you told me you couldn't wait to see the Aurors rip me apart, limb from limb." He countered, cautiously stepping across the room before kneeling to meet his level.

"Everyone's been making the rounds. Black tried to blame me, Dumbledore to redeem me, even the idiotic Gryffindors just couldn't keep their noses out of my life. But why are you here?"

"Why am I here?" He repeated, feeling his anger bubbling in his stomach. "Of all the people, you question why I am here?"

"Well, after our last little chat, we both made it pretty clear we wouldn't be speaking again."

"We did… but in my haze… I never thought to ask you why."

"Why what?"

"Why did you do it?" His words came out softer than he wanted them to. "Why… I did what you asked for. I begged you to forgive me. But even then, you didn't care. You… how could you?"

"I left you for dead… just as you did."

"I didn't visit when you were a kid, Harry, that is entirely different to what you did to me."

"You left me for those hell-spawn!" he snarled.

"Left you? I pleaded for you, poured out my heart to you while my body was tearing itself apart, and what did you do? You blackmailed me, mocked me, threatened to put my head on your wall after what the Aurors would do to me. And then, after I gave you everything, you made me look like a fool! Embarrassed me in front of Dumbledore, the other teachers, the other students. Everyone. You tarnished my reputations in the school before going back on your end of the deal and selling me out to the Aurors."

"You left me… ALONE!" Harry stood up, his legs shaking under him. "And after everything that happened, after I begged you to help me, promised to try to fix what I had done, you left me. Again. So, you could do what - exactly? Join the Order? Help out Neville? Be there for him when you should have been there for me since the beginning? You - all of you tossed me aside, left me to die, and yet you come down here to whine who I became in your absence?"

"I don't believe this," his voice shook, his heart was beating inside his head and he felt himself seeing red. "You… you're not the victim here! You destroyed my life. I can't even walk out that door without Scrimgeour sending three squads of Aurors to kill me - no questions asked. After everything I did, for the Order, for Dumbledore, for the whole Wizarding World. Even with the voices in my head, pleading me to hunt, to kill, to join Greyback and his pack. I DIDN'T! I risked my life, devoted it to save people, I made sure that no matter what happened, no matter how much I wanted to, how much my body craved for the taste of blood - I DIDN'T HURT ANYONE - NEVER! I was a good person, I was a good man... and you took that from me. You began attacking Neville at every chance you got, antagonizing him and Ron, humiliating them all this past year, even after they went down to the Chamber of Secrets to save your life. Have you really not realised what you've done, huh? All the pain and misery you have wrought to the people who were only trying to help you? You've made us criminals! You've turned us into monsters and victims! You… Harry Potter… are not the victim, here. You're the VILLAIN."

Blackstone House

9:15 p.m.

For almost twenty years, he'd never missed a single New Year's Ball at Parkinson Palace. Even over the past few years, as he moved out of his parent's house and did everything he could to separate himself from the ties that bound him to the Parkinsons, he still found himself there. Not because of some hidden desire to be shoulder to shoulder with former Death Eaters, but because he was forced to. No matter how hard he tried, his father still had him under his thumb with a single word.

Disownment.

His father's favourite word, the one he used every time he mentioned having a friend who wasn't wholly pure-blooded, every time he spoke against the atrocious acts of the Death Eaters past, every time he even tried thinking for himself outside his parent's views. It was that suffocating experience that drove him to buy his own flat as soon as he left Hogwarts. Out of sight, out of mind, and so long as he stayed away from his father, he wouldn't give him a reason to disown him.

If it had only been so easy. Unfortunately, the New Year's Ball was just the tip of the iceberg in terms of what his father asked of him. Other idiotic parties, family reunions, business meetings. It seemed his father was not willing to let him go and live out his life on his own, as he had thought. And any attempts to even avert him would end with the rather unsubtle threat.

But he hadn't endured his entire childhood with his parents just to give up his birthright. Who knew, with his father's temper a heart attack within the next short years wouldn't be completely out of the ordinary. That had been his hope for a while, the thing that drove him to continue playing the part, even after promising himself for seven years he wouldn't cow to his father's whims once he was an adult.

He couldn't have known that continued submission to his father's desires would leave him kneeling in front of the Dark Lord, shaking and pale, as his father spoke for him and implored the Dark Lord to allow him to take his mark. How dearly it could've cost him, to either be forced to be the monster he had hated all his youth or to die out of his stubbornness towards his principles. But for some reason, he didn't. For some reason, the deranged old man so consumed with the Death Eater agenda, the first one in the family to join the Dark Lord and force the others into his service, had spoken up for him. Claiming he had more need of him as his ward, unmarked and working directly for him.

It was only because of that interference that the Dark Lord had let him go with his life and principles intact. Not only that, but a few days after that, his grandfather had him move straight to his manor and involved him into some insane conspiracy to kill the Dark Lord before it was too late to stop him. He had questioned it for months, tried to find any hints of dishonesty in his actions, kept his words curt and ambiguous as to not fall for any traps his grandfather might be setting for him. But the longer he spent time with him, the looser his words got, and after no retribution came for them, he realised this wasn't a ploy. It wasn't an elaborate scheme concocted by his father, grandfather, and the Dark Lord to ensure his loyalty or kill him.

Eventually, he stopped questioning it and just accepted it. Accepted his grandfather had realised the truth, the threat the Dark Lord could pose not just to the Muggle-borns and people he viewed as unworthy, but to everyone who wasn't him. That acceptance had led him through some unexpected hoops; meeting Potter, interacting with his estranged sister again, forming alliances with other Death Eaters who'd also turned against the Dark Lord, and most unexpected of all, entering Blackstone House with Alecto Carrow on his arm.

His first New Year's Even outside of Parkinson Palace, and the other biggest party in the country. While it wasn't completely free of former Death Eaters, their presence wasn't as prominent as it was in the Parkinson Ball - most notable being Igor Karkaroff, who was speaking with some other foreign politician that had remained in Britain after the scandal from the Triwizard Tournament.

"You see him yet?" Alecto asked.

"We just got here." He rolled his eyes. "He's probably around here somewhere."

"You'd think someone as loud and obnoxious as Potter would be easy to find," she huffed. "The sooner we find him, the better. Merely inking him will take three hours, and that's if he's not resistant to the process."

"What's the tattoo even for?" He hated how much his question sounded like a whine. "And how come he's getting one, but I haven't yet?"

"Because you don't need it, at least not yet." She shrugged. "The advantage you have, kid, is that you're unmarked. No Dark Mark or other questionable tattoo, and you fly under the radar. We're trying to keep it that way, remember?"

"Shouldn't Potter be unmarked too? I doubt Dumbledore or Umbridge would favour a student who already has a criminal branding before even completing his OWLs."

She snorted. "You've met him, haven't you? Potter wouldn't be able to fly under the radar if he was invisible, miniature, and from a worthless muggle family. And since it's not the Dark Mark, they'll probably it's just a stupid tattoo he impulsively got for himself to seem tough."

"Fair enough. Still, you haven't told me what the tattoo does."

"The tattoo? Nothing. It's the ink that's special. The same ink designed by Deimos and Phobos for the Dark Lord to create the Dark Mark. It has a myriad of uses that will be helpful with Potter. It allows for communication between other bearers of the same tattoo, can even reveal their locations in cases of emergency. That's what's important to us at the moment. There are another dozen uses for it, but you'll have to ask Yaxley about it. He's the expert on all things Dark Magic, after all."

"I certainly will… but for now, let's just focus on finding Potter."

"Agreed."

They went across the room, speaking with everyone who stumbled upon their path as their eyes sought out Potter. Carrow handled herself well, speaking for the both of them, something for which he was glad. As someone deep in the Ministry, it wasn't a surprise to see how many people she knew and how easy it was for her to manoeuvre her way through a conversation with those she didn't.

"Well?" She asked after nearly half an hour.

"I don't see him," he whispered, trying to keep the annoyance off his face as he smiled politely to a couple walking towards them. "Can you just deal with them? This clearly isn't working, I'll go search for him on my own."

"And how do you plan to do that?" She berated him. "Go to Augusta and interrogate her on her ward's location?"

"You know," he grinned. "That's a perfect idea."

"I didn't mean - oh, hi, Griselda! It's so nice to see you again."

Kieran scurried away as Carrow was forced to do the regular pleasantries with Marchbanks. It wasn't hard to spot Augusta after he had a moment to himself. Standing proudly with a stern scowl as her grandson was hunched beside her, his nervousness and dread sweating out of him. Before his mind could properly disavow his next action, he took a stride forward and greeted the older woman.

"Madame Longbottom," he smiled, kissing the lady's hand before turning towards her grandson. "Neville Longbottom. Thank you for receiving me in your wonderful home this evening."

Augusta huffed. "Do tell me, boy, how is it that the steward of House Parkinson has found himself in my home rather than at your own ball?"

"Ah," he laughed, hiding his irritation at her tone. "I suspect you've rooted out I have an ulterior motive."

"Death Eater scum usually do."

"I'm not-" he breathed out, focused on keeping his calm as he tried to remember the civility he had been trying to beat into Potter's head over the past month. "My ulterior motive is much more… benign, than you might think."

"Is that so."

"Your recently acquired ward-"

"What about Potter?" Neville blurted out, looking somehow red and pale at the same time.

"You're in his year, aren't you, Neville?"

"Yeah," he mumbled.

"Well, my sister and he are… quite close. She figured I could give him a message from her part, I even brought him a gift from hers, if you'd allow me to give it to him."

"I'm afraid I can't," Augusta said, her tone a betraying the falseness of her words. "Young Mister Potter escaped from my custody the very same night I brought him onto the manor."

"He- are you sure?"

"Are you doubting my capabilities, young man?"

"No- of course not." He rushed out, not knowing why he felt the need. "It doesn't surprise me, though, Potter's always been volatile at best."

"Indeed. Though, I'm not concerned. The Aurors will find him eventually, it's only a matter of time."

Kieran gave a non-committal hum before quickly excusing himself from the conversation and seeking out Carrow as his mind began racing. This was bad news, terrible news. Fuck. Why did the little bastard have to go on and run off? Granted, dealing with Augusta Longbottom turned grating after a small conversation, but even then, they had an agreed plan. Where could he be? And why the bloody hell hadn't the boy sought them out by now?

Too lost in his thoughts, he didn't realise he found Carrow until he bumped into her and nearly tumbled the both of them to the ground.

"What's your problem?" She hissed at him.

"Potter's not here."

"What do you mean he's not here?"

"What I mean is he's gone. The idiot bloody escaped from the Longbottoms before he could even get settled down on the manor."

"How the bloody hell did he manage that?"

"How the fuck am I supposed to know?" He nearly yelled, feeling himself getting out of control. "We're so fucked."

"That doesn't make any sense," she said, keeping her cool much better than him. "He knew the plan, and even if he didn't, why hasn't he reached out to us?"

"What are you getting at?"

"I don't think you realise just how hard it would have been to escape, what with all the house-elves and wards and the such. If Augusta was so keen on keeping him as his ward, she would have done a better job at making sure he couldn't escape."

"You think she's lying?"

"It sounds awfully convenient that the boy just escaped."

"You put it past him?"

"Fuck no," she rolled her eyes. "It's precisely what that boy would do. But even if he did, he'd go straight to your grandfather if just to demand he keep up his end of the bargain."

"So if he didn't leave, he must still be here."

"Most likely," she nodded. "We'll have to search around the house."

"And if we don't find him."

"Then we'll have to tell your grandfather because if he's not here it would mean he's somewhere so much worse."

Parkinson Palace

9:35 p.m.

After nearly ten days of the manor being empty and the few people inside either ignoring her on purpose or outright banning her from the meetings, it was a nice change of pace to have it be filled to the brim. This year was the largest the New Year's Ball had been in recent memory. Even with various critical figures missing, presumably acting for whatever current conspiracy they were in, it had been hard to notice their absence at first. But beyond that, many regulars from the Longbottom Ball were now here, presumably swayed away from the party due to the negative publicity Neville and Dumbledore had gotten from the Daily Prophet over the past six months.

She had expected her grandfather to be pleased by the fact. In the past, it had always been a point of contention to mention how people were slowly turning away from the Parkinson Ball to attend the one at Blackstone House. With the topic even been banned by her parents over the past few years. But he didn't seem to care for it, after fourteen years of a one-sided war against the Longbottoms, the only remark regarding what he would have once viewed as a victory was that the large number of guests would serve to have several hundred witnesses place him in the manor tonight.

It was a stupid thing to focus on, a petty and insignificant matter that, given everything that had happened ever since the Dark Lord's return, but it was something her grandfather would have noted. The person she had venerated throughout her entire childhood, the one she had sought to make proud with her recent announcements… and yet, he felt like a stranger to her nowadays. Ever since she returned home for the summer, she hadn't managed to recognise the man.

She'd ignored it as he ripped her away from her parents, the two people in the world who supported her through everything. The ones who would wake up to tuck her in during the middle of the night when she had a nightmare. The ones who would buy her any book she wanted and encouraged her in her desire to learn even before attending Hogwarts. The two people who she had grown to care for and depend on for the longest time. Taken from her, with her grandfather suddenly disavowing her actions, saying everything they had done, they had taught her to do, was wrong.

Her grandfather's change had been a hard pill to swallow. While not as close to him as she was with her parents, she still trusted him, believed in him. In the man who told her stories about what her family really stood for, rather than the propaganda and attacks that had been aimed at those who still cared about the traditional ways of magic. It was because of him that she sought out to learn as much as she could, so that one day, she might be able to follow in his footsteps and be a part of the Department of Mysteries.

She hadn't realised how much things had changed during her time at Hogwarts. Anchored by Theo and even Harry, she had a strong foundation that was abruptly shaken when the winter break came. It was different to know her grandfather now had wholly different views from the ones he had shared with her in the past, but to see him outright dismissing her from the meetings she used to be allowed to participate in or even just from having a small conversation with him.

In her defence, it had been a long and lonely week. One where neither her grandfather or even her stupid brother would give her the time of day, nor was she allowed to send or receive any owls while she was staying at Parkinson Palace out of some paranoid rule her grandfather had imposed. If she'd had either of them, she wouldn't have hugged Theo the moment she saw him.

"Missed you too," his laugh only served to irritate her more.

"I didn't miss you," she huffed. "So don't get any ideas."

"Well, you didn't respond to any of my letters." He said, as he waved at Blaise and Malfoy, who were on the other side of the room. "Neither of you. Have you heard anything from Harry?"

"Letters are officially banned in this house," she said bitterly. "Can't send or receive them."

"Well, that explains you… but what about Harry?"

"Potter didn't respond to the two of you either?" Malfoy asked.

"No- wait, you sent him a letter?" Pansy asked.

"Of course, I bloody sent him a letter. I sent him three, thank you very much. After what happened on Halloween, I'd rather not let Potter remember I used to be on his bad side. Even if that entails needless minutes of writing every few days."

"He's not going to kill you just because you didn't wish him a happy Christmas," Theo rolled his eyes.

"I'd rather not take my chances. Besides, why are the two of you biting my head off about this? I know for a fact Blaise sent him a couple of letters as well-"

"Oi!"

"Even Daphne sent him one on Christmas."

"Daphne?" Pansy laughed. "I find that hard to believe."

"Well she did. I mean, I don't know how formal or informal it was, but she sent it."

"They don't seem to get along, do they?" Theo asked. "They've been sort of mad at each other for weeks now."

"Well, he was a major arse the morning after we shagged." Daphne said carelessly, dropping into the group with ease as she wore an elegant green dress with her blond hair cascading to the middle of her back.

"You shagged Potter!" Theo, Malfoy, and Blaise exclaimed nearly simultaneously, causing Pansy to giggle despite herself.

"You didn't know?"

"You did?" Theo asked Pansy.

"Of course I did." She rolled her eyes. "We girls talk, you know."

The three guys paled at that. "About everything?"

"Yes, everything." Daphne said pointedly, making the three of them looking even whiter than before. "Still, Potter didn't answer my letter, so I can only guess he's still pissed at me." She shrugged.

"He didn't answer any of our letters either." Malfoy said.

"So he's pissed at all of us?"

"Or he's in trouble," Theo said.

"Trouble?" Malfoy laughed. "Harry bloody Potter. I highly doubt that."

"He's not invincible," Daphne said primly. "Bloody hard to kill, yes, but that doesn't mean he can't be fucked over. Just look at what happened at the Wizengamot."

"Worst-case scenario, we should still see him when term resumes in February." Blaise shrugged. "I can't see anything terrible happening to him. Especially while he's at the Longbottom's. I mean, what could they do? Lock him in a cell and torture him for the entire break?"

"When it comes to Harry, I've learnt to expect the worst." Theo said darkly.

"Either way, there's nothing you can do about it. You or any of us. I don't know if you've forgotten what with all the action recently, but we're still just kids. Kids who haven't even passed their owls, much less are able to do magic outside of school."

"I know that," Theo said. "I just can't help but worry. He would have called or sent an owl if he was alright, at least to me and Pansy. You lot…"

"We get it," Blaise rolled his eyes. "But like I said, there's not much any of us could do."

"Harry would know. If he were here, he'd know, he'd tell us."

"But he's not, so we'll just have to wait."

"Well, on the bright side, if Potter ends up not showing up for a few more months, we'll get more hilarious attempts of Malfoy trying to win over the house with his so-called leadership skills." Daphne smirked.

"That's not funny," Pansy scowled.

"Eh, it kind of is." Blaise smiled. "Even Potter would agree there."

Somewhere in the North Sea

10:00 p.m.

They were enveloped in darkness. A thick, unforgiving nothing spanning on all sides. Not a single sign of light, the moon and stars above them having suddenly faded away nearly fifteen minutes ago. An unsettling fact under any other circumstances, but during that moment, it showed nothing but promise to them.

Azkaban stood on an island so small, it could barely be considered land. A tall, dark tower of darkness, it covered nearly the entire land space and was as tall as three Eiffel Towers stacked on top of each other. And yet, it was probably the most heavily guarded island in the entire planet. The wards were nearly unbreakable, the manpower within the prison formidable, unresting, and large. It was a monument that had never been taken, the few idiotic attempts at it had resulted catastrophic for the ill-advised attackers.

But the Dark Lord wasn't one of them. Just as they were nearing them, he felt them. The raw magic pouring from the wards merely a few yards in front of them. With a small raise of his hand, the three small boats the Dark Lord commanded stopped immediately. Three boats and fifteen men would be considered a meagre attempt to take Azkaban, but it was one the Dark Lord thought more than sufficient.

"Hades, Phobetor, Poseidon - with me," the Dark Lord said in a cold whisper.

The three of them stood, each in their respective boats, as they made their way to the front and joined the Dark Lord. He raised his wand, weaving it in very sharp and precise movements that let out orange gashes over the sky. He began incantating, the words foreign and unknown, even to him, but the voice, its high cold pitch being enhanced and mixed by the magic pouring out of the Dark Lord sent chills to the back of his neck.

And suddenly, there was a blast so loud and so hard, it sent the boats rocking backwards as a large chain of orange runes and hieroglyphs began forming in front of them, turning into an enormous dome. Immediately, there was a loud siren coming from the epicentre of the dome, nearly shattering his eardrums as it howled into the night.

It only lasted for a few seconds before the Dark Lord and the other three Death Eaters managed to silence it. They went to work, tapping into the wards in front of him, sending sparks flying everywhere and emanating an anguished scream from the wards themselves.

Even from behind the masks, he could tell the toll the wards were putting on his brothers. Not just them, while not as clear as with his Death Eaters, the Dark Lord was clearly using a colossal amount of effort to attack the protections of Azkaban.

The four of them focused on a single area and in a mere minute, it began to pay off. A single rune, the one closest to them that once shone in a blinding orange light, had turned dark. The rune was still there, only it now gave off a purple light, one that began spreading to the runes in its immediate vicinity.

It was at that moment, that a low, powerful growl was heard from below, sending the water rippling in a gentle yet threatening manner. The growls began to surge, and the water began moving more and more violently within the confines of the dome.

"Ares," the Dark Lord spoke, and he immediately turned his attention towards him.

"Hold the wards. Hades, Phobetor, Poseidon, open a breach for me."

Three grunts chorused in agreement before they tumbled to their knees from exertion as various runes clustered together and a small gap opened. As it did, Barty stepped up to the Dark Lord's right side and immediately took hold of the wards, liberating his master from their power. Immediately, his eyes were blinded by countless orange runes and hieroglyphs flying across his eyes as he felt his skull pressing against his brain and his very magic being sucked out from him. He nearly screamed as he held on tight to it, as he ignored the pain from his head and kept his eyes open to witness the Dark Lord's undertaking.

As soon as he took reigns of the wards, the Dark Lord flew threw the whole, a mass of darkness flying faster than anything he'd ever seen before. He would have lost him, if not for the monstrous waves that suddenly surged from within the water as a Herculean cephalopod rose from the water. Fifteen large tentacles all connected by a single enormous head with blazing orange eyes that were clear even from where they stood.

Spikes made from rock and sea floor began rising from the air, attacking the massive Kraken in a futile attempt, as the beast shattered them with a mere strike of his tentacles. The Dark Lord flew around it, sending waves of spikes at the creatures before a gigantic snake, made from fire, was launched from within the mass of darkness that was the Dark Lord.

It began surrounding the creature, burning the sea under it as it tried to contain its tentacles one by one. All the while, behind it, a humanoid shape made of water began forming, towering over the beast before it began strangling at its neck. It shrieked and convulsed under the pressure as the snake had nearly confined half of its tentacles and it was beginning to be holstered up into the air. The spikes began landing their blows, drawing out blood from the creature.

And then, with a powerful roar, it freed its restrained tentacles, completely dissipating the large snake into oblivious as it destroyed the prongs that had pinned themselves in it and began attacking the Dark Lord's flying form, forcing him to stop concentrating on his water creation as he dodged the blows.

Another burst from the wards suddenly brought Barty to his knees. He groaned in pain, exerting himself to his full potential as he realised they had turned nearly a third of the dome into the Dark Lord's purple runes. It was only a matter of time, he need only hold on for a little while longer.

His attention turned back to his master, who was still dodging around the tentacles as he fired curses at the creature. A mix of blasting curses, cutting curses, and others, but they were most inefficient against the magical hide of the beast. But it was only a distraction, for the Dark Lord suddenly fixed his curse and headed straight towards the creature, flying into it through one of the gashes that had been made with the spikes that had prodded the beast earlier.

The creature flayed and shrieked, and before a single thought could form within him, there was a blast from inside the creature as its eyes were burned off and blood and entrails were launched out of the holes. The body of the beast completely, stopping for a moment before it began to sink back into the ocean.

But before it did, the Dark Lord flew out of one of its eyes and launched himself completely upwards. He flew with great speed and power before crashing straight into the boundaries of the wards. As soon as it did, it emitted another piercing shriek as suddenly, all the runes turned purple and were flipped upside down, and the hold they held on his mind was suddenly gone.

Barty threw himself backwards, as did the other three Death Eaters. He gasped for breath, feeling relief as he still sensed his magic within him - whole and untouched.

And then he landed on the boat. Covered in blood and guts, his empty eyes showed no signs of emotion or distaste. A part of Barty began to doubt if he could even feel the gore covering his skin.

"Kill the guards," he commanded coldly. "Take out any threats within the prisoners, and leave the useful ones to me."

That's it for this chapter, thank you all for reading!

The Year's End arc has officially started, expect a couple of big reveals to happen within this one. Be excited! :)

By the time I'm posting this, I'm FIVE chapters ahead, and I'm starting the next arc titled What We Leave Behind, which will be an in-depth journey inside Harry as various secrets that have been kept start coming out to the light! If you are interested in learning how to get early access to them, join my discord server using the following link: discord . gg / jyPfbGqhJT

As always, thank you for reading, favouriting, and commenting! I appreciate all of you! :)